#but I’m not shoving all my shit into a teeny part of the apartment or all in my room or something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

septembersums · 2 years

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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 19 | 𝐃𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

pairing: gojo satoru x you

summary: your work crush on gojo satoru finally comes to fruition in the form of rough, angry sex in his penthouse apartment. you never thought you’d be so excited to be broken up with.

There’s something that you’ve always wanted to try. Being with your ex for so many years meant that you never really got the chance to explore yourself, at least not sexually.

He’s a nice guy. He’s rather quiet, rather reserved, and especially so in bed. Your sex life mainly consisted of the basic positions, where he’d climb on top of you and fuck you, and you’d accept it and... honestly remain unsatisfied at times. When he broke up with you, it was bittersweet.

Bitter, because spent the vast majority of your young adult life with him, and change is difficult.

Sweet, because you now have the opportunity to act on a teeny tiny work crush that you’ve developed.

Teeny, tiny, insignificant. You would’ve never acted on it if your ex hadn’t broken up with you.

But he did, and now you’re working up the courage to go into Gojo Satoru’s office and ask him for something.

He wouldn’t say no to you. Gojo always flirts with you, even when you weren’t single. He never cared for your boyfriend, always called him lame, unexciting, boring. When you were alone with Gojo, he’d often times refer to him as a side character, or an NPC.

“Stop that,” you’d say, after a day of Gojo’s teasing your poor boyfriend.

“You’re too hot for him, and you know it,” Gojo would argue, “he looks like the type of guy that would faint if you asked him to tie you up.”

“Gojo!”

“Oh my god, I’m right, aren’t I? Look at me and tell me that hasn’t happened before,” you couldn’t properly look at him, “holy shit. Oh my god. Break up with him, or I swear to christ I’ll do it for you.”

He was half right, half wrong. Your ex-boyfriend didn’t quite faint when you’d ask for something new in bed, but he would give you this bewildered, distant expression and ask what’s gotten into you?

“I’m not gonna break up with him. Don’t be like that,” you’d say, shoving your work crush down your throat and swallowing it.

And then Gojo would laugh a lot, because you could never deny his claims, nor validate them. You’d just sit there blushing, looking away from him, trying not to giggle at his mean-spirited jokes.

Sometimes you did, and he’d never let you live it down.

Regardless, you always knew that the crush was somewhat mutual between the two of you. At the very least, he’d fuck you, and you know that because he never hesitates to tell you.

The first time he subtly cued you in on it being mutual was when you were at the bar with him, Suguru, Shoko, and Nanami after work one night a couple of months ago.

“If you could-- if you could hook up with anyone from work,” Shoko slurred, after having enough drinks to down a grown man, “who?”

Gojo laughed, he wasn’t drunk at all, “I could hook up with anyone from work except you, ‘cause you’d be crying over Utahime the whole time--”

“Shut up,” she hissed, “that’s not the game, ‘n you know it.”

“Fine,” he relented, sitting back in the booth.

He gave you a sly look, blue eyes darting between your eyes and your lips for a fraction of a second, before sighing and saying, “Suguru, obviously. I mean, we’ve already--”

And then you heard a rather detailed story about how he and Suguru occasionally share women, and occasionally leave out the women and just share one another. He’d look right at you during the filthiest parts, lips curved up into a knowing smirk at the sight of your wide-eyed stare.

Satoru only got bolder after that. Meanwhile, you still can’t muster up the courage to just walk into his office and ask for what you want. It’s not like he’ll say no.

He won’t. Of course not. He’s so casual about these things, he’s not quite a whore, but he’s whore-adjacent. Satoru likes sex, he’s too self-indulgent to say no to an opportunity of fucking one of his best friends. Right?

You tap your nails on the desk, deliberating your options as you stare at the door.

Right.

After adjusting your hair a little, you make your way into his office, where he’s sitting with his feet reclined up on the desk, fucking around on his phone. You don’t know how he even sees the screen with his blindfold on, but that’s a question for another time.

“Oh, shit,” he hisses, fixing himself back upright instantly, “I thought you were Yaga. Come in.”

“Hey,” you say, closing the door behind you, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“What’s up, baby?” He asks, smiling at you radiantly like he always does, even when he can tell that you’re stirring and brooding over something, like you are now.

“I-- I wanted to,” you trail off, stammering and refusing to look at him, “I was wondering if we could... if you could... fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying. You’re-- I’ve heard a lot of rumors about you, and...”

“Straight and to the point, I see,” he teases you, laughing at your nerves, “but I heard about you and Mr. Limpdick breaking up. Am I on the right track?”

“You know that’s not his name,” you argue shyly.

“Sure, I do. What I don’t know is why you’re still defending him when he couldn’t make you cum. I mean, I don’t really see the point, but whatever,” he refutes, shrugging, “but if you’re here asking me to fix that,” he leans forward, murmuring smoothly, “I wouldn’t say no.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Of course not,” he replies, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”

Oh.

Oh?

“Okay,” you reply softly, barely able to cover the nervousness surging through your system, nor the way you’re having to shift in your seat when he says such bold, audacious things so casually.

“Wanna come over after work?”

“Yeah,” you reply, biting your lip, “and... I’ve never had... uh, can you... be mean to me? When we do it?”

He chuckles at your shyness, “How mean?”

“Really mean,” you murmur soflty.

“I can be mean to you. I can make you cry if you want me to,” he replies with a cocky smirk, “but we’re gonna need a safeword if you want it rough.”

“Stop wouldn’t work?” You ask, perking up with fear masked by enthusiasm.

“No,” he replies seriously, “anything other than the safeword is encouragement to me, baby. I’ll go harder if you say stop.”

You bite your lip, breathing in deeply at the way the room suddenly feels ten times smaller, “Alright... I’m okay with that. What should it be?”

He laughs, and then he says your ex-boyfriend’s name.

You tried to argue about it, giving reasons like “what if it’s muscle memory for me to say his name?”

Satoru just laughed at you, and then he told you that he knows it’s not, and that if you say anyone else’s name in the first place, he might have to take a breather so that he doesn’t actually hurt you.

He warned you that he can be rough, he can be too rough if he’s not careful, considering his infinite strength and stamina.

You’re excited. You’re unbearably, unreasonably excited.

When you arrive to his apartment later in the evening, you’re bubbling with anxiety and nerves about what’s going to happen, what you’ve been wanting to happen for months now.

You’ve thought about it, and you’ve thought about it a lot, but now that the time’s here you want to run away. Satoru doesn’t let you. Instead, he opens the door and grins at you.

“You want a drink?”

“Okay.”

“You nervous?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Good.”

And then things are relatively normal for a few moments. Though you’ve never been to his apartment before, it looks the way that you’d expect it to look. Impersonal, unused, cleaned professionally by people other than himself.

You get the odd feeling that he’s trying to make you more nervous, rather than to calm you down, like he feeds off of your bubbly, shy energy. He sits close to you but doesn’t touch you, he drags on a conversation about you and how you’ve been fucked before until you almost can’t stand him.

“He really missed an opportunity with you,” Satoru murmurs, sitting so close to you now that he can play with your hair while he talks, “you’re so eager to please, but he’s too stupid to see you for what you are like I do.”

“Are you trying to fuck me or date me?” You ask, teasing him back.

“I’m just reminding you of how much I like you,” he replies softly, “I really do like you.”

“You say that like I won’t think so after.”

He hums softly, “You won’t.”

You shiver, as he leans in and presses his lips to yours, so gentle that it feels disingenuous. Using his technique, he levitates your glass out of your hand to sit it on the coffee table, dragging you closer to him.

Just from kissing, from the way he cradles your neck and licks your lower lip, it feels more passionate and erotic than anything you’ve experienced before. You find yourself needy, chasing after him more so than the opposite, until you’re about to crawl into his lap if he doesn’t offer you more.

He stops you, holding a firm hand against your hipbone, tracing circles on the bone with his thumb.

“Greedy whore,” he scolds you irritably, “you’ll get more when you earn more. Take your fucking clothes off.”

The sudden change in pace startles you, catches you off guard and leaves you fumbling for a response, staring at him confusedly.

“Did I stutter?” He asks, tapping his finger on his knee like he’s counting the seconds it takes you to listen.

You start to slip one of the straps of your dress off your shoulder, attempting to listen.

“Not like that,” he reprimands it, “stand up, and don’t be shy. I won’t like it.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you stutter out, standing up in front of him gracelessly.

He chuckles, “That’s better, baby.”

Satoru sits on the couch with his arms stretched along the back of it, knees spread widely so that you get a full view of the hardness that sits along his thigh. He takes up so much space with his long limbs that it’s unnerving, as you slip the straps of your dress down your arms, reaching behind you to unzip it.

“Slowly,” he demands, hardly over a whisper.

You nod anxiously, as the fabric slips down your body like silk, revealing the matching lingerie set underneath. It’s all black, and you bought it just for him, eager to please-- just like he said.

“You look good,” he says hoarsely, as his cock twitches against the rigid confines of his slacks, “c’mere.”

You stand between his legs, as his hands trail up the backs of your thighs, and he hums affectionately at the feeling of your skin underneath his palms.

“Did you buy that for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

He kisses your stomach, traveling from your navel down to the hem of your panties, “Good girl.”

You whine at his praise, as he kisses your sex through the lace, grabbing your leg to hoist it over his shoulder, as you grab onto him for balance.

He licks at you teasingly through the fabric, wetting it with his saliva even more so than it already is. Until you’re clawing into his hair, whining to beg for more than what he’s giving you.

“Be fuckin’ patient,” he rasps, slapping your ass, “or I’ll rip these off and gag you with ‘em.”

“Fuck,” you murmur, rocking your hips against his lips, impatient, just as impatient as he thought you’d be.

Little did you know, his cock is throbbing in his slacks, and you’re making it just as hard for him to be patient with you.

“Satoru,” you whine.

And his patience snaps with the waistband of your thong, as the room fills with the sound of him ripping it off of your body. He’s standing, tearing your bra off with just as much impatience, hoisting you up onto his hips to carry you to his bedroom, kissing you with every step.

Your back hits the mattress with a thud, as Satoru loses all composure. He’s unbuttoning his shirt, licking his lips as he stares down at you.

“Touch yourself. Get yourself ready for me.”

And you listen, thrusting your fingers between your legs to play with your clit. It’s been so long since you’ve had an orgasm, even longer since you’ve been this aroused, if it’s ever happened before.

Satoru unbuttons his slacks, unzips them, and you’re ready to cum right as he’s freeing his cock from his briefs, running his thumb over the leaky, red tip. He’s so hard that it looks painful, straining against his abdomen as his eyes rove over your body like he’s starving for you.

“Don’t fuckin’ cum,” he says, watching the way your breaths stutter, as he strokes himself to the sight of it.

You stop, unable to hold yourself back if you keep moving for even a moment longer.

He scolds you for it, making you feel like all of his requests have no right answer, like there’s nothing you can do that won’t lead to punishment.

“Did I say stop touching yourself?”

“No, sir.”

“Then keep going,” he says, climbing onto the bed, prowling up to you like a jaguar on all fours, “fuck yourself on your fingers, but don’t cum. A worthless whore like you can do that, can’t you? You can hold back?”

You want to say no, that you can’t, that any amount of stimulation while he’s so close and so threatening will tip you over the edge, but you don’t. Instead, you continue to touch yourself at the same rate, at the same speed, knowing that you’re destined for failure.

“Please--” you whine, as he sucks one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, closing his teeth around the hardened tip, “Satoru, I can’t-- I’m gonna--”

He bites down harder, dragging your hand away from your cunt so rapidly that you can barely perceive it, before he’s thrusting all the way inside of you, bottoming out against your cervix as you fucking fall apart around him.

A string of spit connects his lips to your nipple, as he looks up at you, watching your face with rapt attention as he grinds his cock inside of you to fuck you through your first orgasm. Your brows are bunched up in pleasure, lips locked into a silent “o.”

“I was gonna ruin it, wasn’t gonna let you have it,” he rasps, “but the thought of feeling you cum around my cock was so-- ngh-- god, so fuckin’ good. You feel so good for me, so tight.”

You’re so full of him that it’s indescribable, as he leans down to kiss you, spreading your legs until the backs of your thighs are even with his hips, your knees to your shoulders.

He’s relentlessly brutal, lost in the sensation of your cunt sucking him up and taking every inch with ease. Satoru holds the headboard with one hand, holds your throat with the other.

“Needy fucking bitch,” he growls, spitting into your open mouth, “swallow it-- thank me for it.”

The vowels in your words come out in time with his thrusts, “Tha-ank y-o-ou Sat-tor-u-u.”

His grip around your throat tightens, sweat slicks his bangs to his forehead before he leans up to brush them back. The bed bangs against the wal with every thrust, and you’ve never been fucked like this before.

Never, never, never.

Never felt a cock so big that it feels like he’s rearranging your insides with every movement.

Never cum so many times that it starts to hurt.

Never been choked, slapped, bitten. He does all three in spades. When you can’t answer him because you’re lost in pleasure or he’s choking you, he slaps you-- he makes you thank him for slapping you.

He bites down on your neck, sucks bruises into your skin, tells you that he hopes your fuckin’ ugly boyfriend sees each and every one of them.

“You’re my girl, aren’t you? Yeah? That’s why you’re letting me fuck you like a slut like this?”

You warble out a yes, s-s-sir, cumming around his cock so hard that you can’t speak well.

“Fuckin’ bitch in heat,” he growls, leaning down close to you. He doesn’t kiss you, he licks your outstretched tongue, licks a strip from your jawline up to your earlobe, and then he bites it.

“Want me to cum in this pussy? Want me to fuck you ‘till you’re mine?”

You can’t speak, can’t think, so you just whine against him and claw into his back. You’re drawing blood, it’s going to make him cum.

“God, you can’t even speak,” he taunts you condescendingly, “pathetic little bitch. It’s a good thing I don’t care if you say no.”

As if you’d ever say no, not with the way you’re locking your ankles around his hips to force him deeper, not with the way you’re using your nails in his back to force him to go harder, not with the way you can’t tell if he hates you, and it’s making you love him in return.

“God, plea-se--” you cry, as best you can.

“That’s right call me God, baby-- fuck, I’m gonna cum-- fucking take it, bitch-- fuck--”

Warmth spills out within you, as the lights flicker on and off throughout the apartment, and all of the furniture in the room moves a few feet from the bed in a reckless, unintentional expulsion of his power. You can feel the purple lightning behind your eyes, taste it on your tongue, like he hit you, too-- and he probably did.

“Fuck, are you okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you hum contentedly, as he peppers your face in soothing kisses.

“Was I too rough?” He asks, moving to your jawline and neck sweetly.

“Nuh-uh,” you hum, basking in the affection and hardly able to think at this point after he’s turned your brain into a slurry of feelings without thoughts, “could’ve been rougher.”

He chuckles softly, “Good, ‘cause I wanna go again.”

“Mm, Satoru.”

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jungshookz · 3 years

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teeny tidbits: namjoon and y/n can’t get enough of each other & it shows

➳ pairing; kim namjoon x y/n

➳ genre; lveb!universe!!! smaybe/smalmost/smerhaps smut?? slightly suggestive is what i’m trying to say idk!! namjoon and y/n are obsessed with each other and yoongi likes making a big deal about it because both their faces get really red and it’s funny to him

➳ wordcount; 1.7k

➳ gif sourced from here but please note that it still remains property of its original maker!

»»————-　♥　————-««

“hello, hellooo!” yoongi kicks the door shut behind him as he steps into your apartment, tossing his set of keys up into the air before catching it and shoving it into his hoodie pocket, “let’s rock n’ roll, y/n! i’m ready to raid the supermarket!” he claps his hands as he enters the living room, turning to stare down the empty hallway before pausing

wow

the most exciting part of his week is when you guys go grocery shopping together?

there’s really no way to make that sound even remotely cool

“…anyone home?” yoongi’s brows furrow in concern when he’s acknowledged by nothing but the sound of silence, “y/n?”

you’re usually sitting on the couch buzzing and ready to go when he gets here so it’s a little concerning that you weren’t the first thing he saw when he got here

he turns back to look at the shoe rack, everything suddenly clicking into place when he sees that there’s a pair of larger, definitely-not-y/n-sized sneakers sitting neatly on the top shelf

ahhhhh

okay

now he understands what’s going on

no wonder you barely responded to any of his texts yesterday

you were too busy getting busy with-

“yoongi! good morning!”

“morni-” yoongi turns his head back towards the hallway quickly, his brows practically stretching up to his hairline at the sight of namjoon’s current state

first of all, the man is wearing nothing but a blanket around his waist and it’s pretty clear to see that he’s not wearing any briefs underneath

second of all, his cheeks are flushed, his hair is ruffled, and his skin is glowing

and yoongi isn’t a self-proclaimed genius but he knows that two plus two makes four

“wow, wow, wow! good morning indeed-” yoongi whistles, immediately looking upwards as to avoid accidentally making eye contact with namjoon’s… fifth lim- “i’m hoping that’s a cactus under your blanket and that you’re not just ecstatic to see me-”

“oh-!” namjoon gasps lightly, quickly pulling the blanket up a little higher before turning his hips in the other direction, “i, um, i didn’t know you were coming over today!“ he chuckles awkwardly, his grip tightening on the sheets, “i just came out for some water so i wasn’t expecting to see you- uh, did you have plans with y/n today?”

“yeah, it’s sunday, so… grocery shopping and stuff.” yoongi looks back down before holding his hand up to shield namjoon’s lower half from his poor, innocent eyes, “you’re welcome to come with us, but i’m definitely going to need you to at least put some underwear on-”

“today’s sunday?” namjoon breathes out, pausing for a second before blinking quickly and shaking his head, “jeez, i thought it was saturday! time flies, huh?”

“it sure does…” the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk before he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “…especially when you’re spending most of it railing y/n into oblivion-”

“yoongi-”

“speaking of y/n!” yoongi claps his hands and rubs them together, “is she ready to go?” he hums, leaning over slightly so he can peer into the hallway over namjoon’s shoulder

“she’s, um, she’s actually still in bed but but i’ll go and tell her now that you’re waiting for her-” namjoon smiles sheepishly before pointing towards the kitchen, “do you want coffee or anything? i can make a latte for you! i’ve been practicing a lot with my frother- y/n really likes my milk foam-”

“oh, i bet she does-” yoongi snorts, leaning against the back of the couch before crossing his arms, “maybe next time, my man. you just go and get y/n for m- holy shit!” his eyes widen as soon as namjoon spins around to head back down the hallway, namjoon immediately turning back to glance at yoongi over his shoulder in concern

“what??”

“your back!” yoongi gawks, getting up from the couch to go over and force namjoon to turn back around so he can get a better look, “jesus, it looks like you got into a fight with like, ten cats!” he exclaims, his eyes glued on the fading red claw marks that start at namjoon’s shoulders and end at his lower back

he brushes his fingers over the (obviously fresh) half-crescent nail marks embedded on the tops of namjoon’s shoulders before wincing to himself, “maybe i should’ve gotten y/n a nail clipper for christmas-”

“o-oh-!” namjoon whips back around so that his back is facing the hallway before he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, offering yoongi a nervous smile, “i, uh, it’s- i’m totally fine, don’t even worry about it-”

“joonie, i-” yoongi perks up when he hears your voice only for you to pop out from behind namjoon a second later, “yoongi! ...you’re here?” you ask, ducking behind namjoon slightly and peeking at him over his shoulder

“it’s sunday, moron.”

“...?”

“oh, dear god-” yoongi gasps suddenly, eyes widening as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth, “namjoon fucked you dumb, didn’t he? i bet that banging your head against the headboard multiple times made you lose a bunch of brain cells. now i'm going to have to be the smart one out of the two of us??”

you roll your eyes immediately at yoongi’s sarcastic remark, though his comment about namjoon makes your cheeks warm slightly

last week you slept over at his apartment so this week it was your turn to be a good host

and naturally…

let’s just say that you showed him how good of a host you were on the kitchen counter,,.., in bed,,.. on the couch,.,. in the hallway,.., in bed again.,.,

“anyway- how long do you need to get ready? twenty minutes?” yoongi pulls his phone out of his back pocket to check the time, “i wanna get my hands on a fresh, warm loaf of sourdough so we have to leave soon otherwise they’re all going to be gone and we’ll have to wait, like, five hours for the bakery to restock.”

“right! yes! sourdough!” you clear your throat, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you sort through your thoughts

you didn’t know today was sunday so you weren’t ready to go grocery shopping at aLL

“okay! coffee first, then i’ll change, then we go-” you nod, nudging namjoon aside so you can brush past him

“yeah, i think i’m gonna pop in the shower-” namjoon clears his throat, pulling the blanket up again before gesturing back towards the hallway, “i’m happy to stay here if you guys wanna go off and do your yoongi-y/n-only activities-”

“woah, woah-”

you don’t get the chance to walk past yoongi before he’s reaching over and pinching the back of your shirt to keep you from going anywhere

you let out a little yelp when he tugs you back abruptly before twirling you around so that you’re facing namjoon

“kim namjoon, you naughty, naughty man! what did you do to y/n??”

“wha- what?” namjoon blinks owlishly, yoongi tsking shamefully before wagging a finger at him

“look!” yoongi gasps, hooking his finger into the collar of the shirt you’re wearing before yanking it down so he can expose more of your skin, “what, were you trying to suck the blood out of her??”

heat immediately rushes up namjoon’s neck and up to his ears when he realizes that yoongi’s referring to the multiple blotches of purple and red staining your skin

maybe he got a little carried away last night

but there were no complaints on your end so namjoon was more than happy to mark you up!

“he-” your face flushes and you slap yoongi’s hand away before pulling your shirt up to hide them, “they’re just hickies, yoongi-”

“first of all, only horny teenagers give each other hickies- second of all, hickies are supposed to be sexy little secrets-” yoongi hums, seemingly uncaring of the way that you wince as soon as he jabs his pointer finger directly into one of them (ow!!), “and these practically scream I’M GETTING LAID and every single single person that we pass by is going to glare at you-”

“why don’t you go and make us some coffee while i go and get changed?” you turn to give yoongi a warning look before pointing to the kitchen door, “go!”

“i’m just looking out for the two of you!” yoongi raises his hands in defense, letting out a laugh as when you start kicking at him gently all while slowly nudging him towards the direction of the kitchen, “is it so bad of me to want to protect you from mr. mosquito over ther- ow, okay, okay-!”

you close the kitchen door shut with a breath, rolling your eyes at the sound of yoongi still babbling away to himself (“i’m realizing now that a vampire would’ve been a sexier example but mr. mosquito was the first thing that came to my head-”)

you turn your head slowly with your hand still on the doorknob, you and namjoon exchanging glances before bursting into giggles

“sorry... you know how he gets.” you mutter sheepishly, making sure the door is closed properly before making your way back over to namjoon

“it’s all good!” he flicks his wrist at you before reaching up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, “sorry about the, uh, the hickies.”

“it’s okay... i like ‘em, so...” you confess quietly, your stomach fluttering at the memory of namjoon’s soft lips pressing against your skin, “sorry about the scratches.”

“no, i like them too... they remind me that i’m probably doing a good job-” namjoon grins as he slips his free arm around your waist before pulling you towards him, another soft giggle bubbling from your lips when he swoops down to give you a kiss, “guess i’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone… i’ll miss you.”

“i’ll only be gone for a couple of hours…” you tease, reaching up to pinch his cheeks together so that his lips turn squidgy, “needy.”

“for god’s sake, i’m taking her grocery shopping, i’m not sending her off to space!” the kitchen door suddenly swings open as yoongi busts through, clapping his hands loudly to break the two of you up before he flicks his wrists to get you to move, “c’mon, let’s get a move on- i want my sourdough!”

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

🌟or something even shorter?

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quirklessidiot · 4 years

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Title: tough luck Pairing: GN! Reader x Suna Rintarou [college au] Genre: domestic fluff and my bad comedy (teeny tiny angst if u squint)

Synopsis: “This is what some people call a bad day, Rin-chan.” [this request of suna rintarou + fluff ]

Warnings: minor bad language but thats it Notes:

omg i was finally able to write something fluffy yay! Hshdhdhd the mind- after all that angst. I hope yall enjoy this domestic college au suna hakhak where can i get one of these.

im posting three requests per week (its to help writers block and well, my english in general, they’ll be posted on random days) ill probably limit it to one when school starts though sike currently have four more requests to finish aye.

navigation

Thesis papers be damned.

You might as well burn your group mates to the depths of hell for leaving you to dry these past few weeks. They weren’t even replying to your messages tonight and you were having a mock presentation first thing in the morning.

You aggressively started to mix more cake batter after frosting the cupcakes.

“Baby?” a low voice echoes throughout the quietness of the kitchen, your steely gaze snaps to find your half-awake boyfriend standing there in his sleepwear, his raven hair completely a mess, if it were a normal day, you’d coo and snuggle next to your good-looking man and annoy the fuck out of him but no, you just had to be in a bad mood, “It’s four am, what’s with all the sugar overload?”

“I’m celebrating the death of my sleep schedule and my sanity. Want a cupcake, baby?” a sarcastic grin makes its way to your lips and honestly, despite his deadpan features, Suna was very worried. He had been bugging you these past weeks to stop living in coffee and instant noodles so he decided to crash your place tonight to scold you, cook yourself a hot meal, and smother you to sleep with his hugs but it seemed like it didn’t work at all and you just violently wormed your way out of his grasp.

He slowly made his way to you, eyes half-lidded, and grabbed the rubber spatula from your hands and snuggled his head on your shoulders like a kitten, “Sleep, Y/N. It’s not worth to stress over those shits.” his voice was blank as usual but you knew he meant well.

“Well those shits will be my downfall tomorrow if they can’t answer the panel’s questions.” You spat as you cracked the eggs harshly on the batter and snatched back the rubber spatula from his hand, letting out a loud huff as you continued to mix aggressively.

“Y/N…”

Silence.

“Y/N…”

“Fine.” you grumbled, “Just let me-”

“I’ll clean up.” Suna sighs, grabbing the spatula once again from your hands, “Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up at seven am, just in time for your class, right?”

“But i can-”

“Y/N.” Suna narrows his eyes, determined to get the last say between you two.

“Ugh.” You grumbled, shoulders slouched, “six thirty-”

“No, seven am. Your class doesn’t start until nine. You need more rest. No take-backs.”

Giving your boyfriend one last stink-eye, you slowly trudged yourself to the bedroom and just flopped yourself towards the bed. Ah, how bad could this day even get?

You shouldn’t have jinxed it.

You were almost late since the professor had moved the presentation time to eight am, thank god your apartment was near your uni, your boyfriend literally watched you shove the most decent outfit you could find and throw yourself out the door in a hurry. In the midst of the presentation, your stomach started to grumble too since you weren’t able to grab a cracker or your usual bread to go before class.

Even worse, your stink of an eye group mates weren’t able to get their parts right.

You were downright ready to throttle them, thank god that this was just a mock defense.

Your mood doesn’t exactly brighten even after the defense, you sit there and look like those cartoons who had fumes coming out of their ears. After class ended, you decided to bring it up to your professor and he tells you it’s too late to take the names out.

Your mood dampens even more.

Exiting the classroom with a scrunched up feature, you stop to see a very familiar figure standing there holding a brown paper bag and a cup of steaming hot milk on his other.

“Mornin’” Suna quietly greets you as he gives you a light feathery kiss on your cheek.

You blink.

“Shouldn’t you be in class right now?”

“The professor was absent, he had some staff meeting so I decided to get you a bento box and some milk. Try to avoid coffee for the time being.” Suna explains as he transfers the cup of milk to his other hand so that he could hold your hand, “Let’s have breakfast, Y/N. You don’t have class until another hour, right?”

Before you could protest, your boyfriend drags you to the field and under the shade of a large tree to eat the bento he bought.

Suna quietly listens as you rant on about how annoying and how much you want to throttle your good-for-nothing groupmates, occasionally wiping the little crumbs on the side of your cheek, “...You should take it easy.” Suna simply replies after you finish your rant, “You’ll get a cold if you keep this up.”

“My okaasan will definitely let me live in the cold if I fail a class.” You shiver at the mental image of your mother giving you a sermon. Suna just sighs as he fixes up your trash, he could never argue with you.

“Come,” he stands up and holds out his hand for you again, “I’ll walk you to your next class.”

The sun shines brightly yet your day doesn’t get any better, you had a pop quiz on one of your weakest subjects and you couldn’t even finish the readings since you were too preoccupied with your thesis and your groupmates.

You inwardly let out a groan as you made your way to the library, your phone rings and your brows contort in confusion at the name of your boyfriend. “Hello?”

“How’s class?”

“You’re such a miracle worker.” You sighed, “You always know when to call.”

“That bad?”

“Everything just sucks, ah life feel so shitty these days-” You confessed, scratching your head in annoyance.

“Hey.” He cuts you off, voice dead serious, “It’s just a bad day, Y/N. Don’t worry, we all have these days. How many classes do you still have?”

“Just two.” you huffed out, completely frustrated by how bad your day was going.

“Take a deep breath and drink some water, alright? I’ll see you after class, let's walk home and order some takeout then sleep early alright? My class ends the same time as you today.”

“B-But…” You stop protesting, realizing that Suna would shut down the idea. Saying goodbye to your boyfriend, you take in a deep breath and do as he instructed.

Thankfully nothing major happens on the next subject and as you were about to proceed to your last class, Suna texts you that he has some milk bread on your locker and your favorite banana milk. A small smile made its way to your lips, one more subject and this wretched day was over then you’ll get to snuggle next to your boyfriend.

Again, you shouldn’t have jinxed it.

Someone had accidentally spilled the banana milk you were drinking all over your white shirt along with his cup of mocha drink (which thank god was cold because if it wasn’t, you’d be suffering a burn)

You had to sit through the whole class with the sticky feeling on your chest and that ugly slosh, you really should’ve brought a jacket today.

“Hey baby- jesus christ, Y/N what happened?”

It’s quite hard to gouge a reaction from your boyfriend most of the times but you can’t believe that something as easy as the big ugly slosh of mocha and banana milk stain on your plain white shirt would actually shock him.

You pressed your lip into a tight line, pissed, as you open your arms, “This,” you exclaimed, “This is what some people call a bad day, Rin-chan.”

Suna shakes his head at your antic and just takes his sports jacket to place it on your figure, he’s awfully reminded of a Pomeranian when you’re angry but he’d never say that out loud.

Instead he softly grabs your hand and tugs it lightly, your quiet on your way home. He notices that maybe the fatigue is slowly sinking in, so the minute you guys enter your apartment, he urges you to change into your pajamas while he orders take out.

After a quick bite, you lay on top of him and snuggle on his neck, humming an unfamiliar tune as you draw circles on his chest, “Thanks.”

“Hm?’

“For being there.” You hummed, “I wouldn’t know what I’d do if you weren’t my boyfriend. So yeah, thanks...”

Suna feels a small smile make its way to his lips, he doesn’t respond, instead he just kisses your head and lets you lay on his arms, “Hey Y/N…” He paused and when he notices that you’re soundly asleep on his arms, his smile turns wider. i love you, he thinks randomly as he watches you sleep, “Goodnight.” he whispers instead out loud, kissing your forehead again and hugging you into his arms.

#suna rintarou #suna rintaro imagine #suna imagines #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro scenarios #suna fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu boyfriend scenarios #haikyuu x y/n

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infernwetrust · 3 years

Text

Never Enough [Jim Mason x Fem Reader] Pt 1.

Summary: The one where you and Jim have been dating for about a year and a half. And even after a year and a half, he still feels like he’s not enough for you, but of course you know he’s more than enough.

Warnings: drug use, swearing, mentions of drug use, mentions of drug abuse, teeny bit mentions of domestic violence, mentions of smut, (don’t worry it’s coming)

WC: 2.1k

A/N: First time writing about Jim. Honestly, he came to me in a dream a few nights ago and I just had to write something. Part 1 of a 2 part series. Thank you for reading! -Juno

Jim had finally convinced you to come to a party hosted by one of his friends. The music was loud and the only thing that lit up the room was a set amount of strobe lights. As you danced next to Medina, you watched your boyfriend closely. It made you warm to see him so happy. Drink in his hand, joint between his lips, he shared laughs with his friends. His hair was a sweaty mess from dancing all evening or engaging in stupid stunts.

He noticed that your eyes were burning into him. He looked up from his cup, his blue eyes meeting yours in a haze and whirlpool of emotions. You could tell sober Jim was far gone, but he was still your Jim. Jim has had sex with you not sober more times than he was sober. Shrooms were his favorite. He liked how sometimes he felt like a feather and sometimes he felt like a brick.

Removing his lips from his cup, he smiled at you, motioning for you to come over, but as you told him, this was his night. You two spent most of the days wrapped up in each other and decided that a few hours not being down each others throats were okay. You shook your head no, biting your lip at him.

"Have fun with your friends." you mouthed causing him to give you a drunken grin.

"You are my friend." he mouthed back, motioning for you to come over again and of course you shook your head no again, turning your attention from him and back onto Medina. It's not that you didn't want to be around him, because trust me, you did. You wanted to walk over there, take a sip of his drink, and press your lips to his. You wanted to jump into his arms and carry you away, but, you meant what you said.

"He can't get enough of you, can he?" she asked, running her hands through her hair.

"I would hope not." you replied. "But it's also good to give the boy some space. We haven't had any time apart really and I know he's been wanting to hang out with his friends."

"Well, I'm getting pretty tired of being inside. Beach house, beach party. Did you remember to bring your surf board?"

"I did! It's in Jim's car and he has the keys.. which means I would have to go ask him for the keys."

"And you know that comes with 21 questions."

"Orrrrrrr, you could go ask him."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"It's not gonna be fun when I get trapped with Jim."

"As if you don't want to. I know you've been staring at him all night."

"Will you please just go get them? Pretty please." Medina giggled knowing that she was just messing with you. She made her way off to Jim, engulfing her brother into a hug before engaging in conversation. After what about 5 minutes but seemed like 30 due to your own mild intoxication, you assumed she asked for his keys because he darted his eyes back and forth between Medina and you. He took his keys out his pocket, placing them in her hands before running his hands messily in her hair and sending her on her way.

"Okay, come on." she said, grabbing your hand. "Let's go get that surf board and change into our suits." Changing, you and Medina stood on the beach, staring at the ocean as the sun set.

"I'm glad I met you." you say to her. "And I'm glad you introduced me to Jim. Surfing was never something I thought I would be doing, but look at me now."

"Do you always have to make me cry, Y/N?" she asked. "We love you, so much. I'm glad I met you too and that you haven't turned your back on Jim and I. Especially, Jim. He's so fragile nowadays, especially with, you know. I don't like to bring it up at all. You convinced Jim to stop abusing those pills, something I've been trying to do for a while. You saved his life, Y/N."

But all of that came with its consequences. In the beginning of your relationship with Jim, the two of you fought constantly. Argue, fuck, and then makeup. And that's all it was for about 2 months into your year and a half relationship. If you were fighting Jim about his pills or trying to throw them away, he was fighting you about another boy that talked to you that day. No matter how many times you tried to reassure Jim that you weren't going anywhere, for the first 2 months of your relationship, he didn't believe you. And of course, that crushed you, but it wasn't enough to make you leave him.

Jim has only ever gotten physical with you once. High off of whatever he did that day, he shoved you a little too hard, causing you to hit your head on the side of the door frame a little too hard. You saw stars before you blacked out and from that day on he never touched you in a way that wasn't caring. Of course you forgave him. When Jim wasn't acting crazy, he was the sweetest boy in the world. Beach campfires, dinners, shopping sprees, Jim showed you nothing but love, because you did the same for him. In reality, you and Medina are all he has.

But Jim doesn't know how much he's helped you either. He was your first. Your first love too. You love him. You are in love with him and he knows that. Because he feels the same about you. Yes, you've dated other guys, but they were no where close as worthy as Jim was to having you. He rushed nothing. You didn't want to be touched right now? He was okay with that. You wanted to make out all night and not go any further? He was okay with that. You wanted to dry hump him just enough for the itch even though you weren't ready? He was okay with that.

4 months. You made Jim wait 4 months for you and when you finally told him you wanted to go all the way, a fire ignited in him. He took care of you. He made it all about you. He made sure you came first and more than once. You still remember his sweet voice asking if this and that is okay or if he was hurting you, but all you kept telling him was that you need to feel him and that you need to feel him now. And once the pain turned into pleasure, you got lost in him. For the next week, all you wanted was Jim inside of you. He was covered, back, chest, arms, and ass, in scratches that stung like hell to touch. He would laugh as you apologized for it, kissing on them, cleaning them up so they wouldn't get infected, but he loved that you loved to mark him up. The two of you caused a great concern, being covered in hickeys. Your parents thought he was abusing you and Medina thought that he was on the streets fighting, but the both of you know why. Jim, he was, he was made for you.

"Medina." you said, snapping yourself out of your own thoughts.

"Hmmm?" she questioned as the two of you continued to stare off into the water.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Everything. Now let's go hit these waves." The evening, well into the night was spent with you and Medina laughing as you toppled over on your surf board a few times. You played in the sand, drawing random things, even playing tic tac toe. As soon as the two of you dried off and decided that you wanted to get back in the water again, just to swim, you felt a strong pair of hands around you. Whoever grabbed you smelt heavily of beer and weed. You were about to freak out when you saw the pair of hands that were wrapped around your body. Jim.

"Heyyyy." he slurred in your ear, wobbling as he struggled to hold himself up. "You two enjoying the ocean without me?" You turned around to meet him, he was so sweaty, not just his hair, but his whole body. His eyes were super red and bloodshot.

"Jim." you said. "Are you okay? You're burning up. Let's get you out of these clothes. Medina you can go ahead and get back in the water, I'll be out there with you in a minute."

"I'm fucking thriving, baby." Jim answered you, almost falling back into the sand, but you grabbed his shirt to hold him up.

"How many have you had and what did you have?"

"Shit, I don't fucking know. Maybe like 9. I smoked a little green. Just kidding, I smoked a lot of green and I took a shroom, baby, I am on cloud nine right now. They tried to get me to take a pill, but I said, no no no, Y/N wouldn't like that." He started to giggle.

"Jim you look like you're about to expire."

"Expire from happiness!" You sighed, getting Jim to sit down in the sand. You took his jacket off, followed by his shirt, moving his hair out his face so it wouldn't get into his eyes. You fought for a little bit to get his pants off, but he did let you take them off of him.

"Come on." you said, struggling to pick him back up. "Let's sit a little closer to the water, cool you down."

"Mhmmmmk." was all he said as stumbled getting up, falling back down hard into the sand. "Mmmph, shit. I'm okay. I'm okay."

"Is he gonna be okay?!" Medina shouted to ask you from the water.

"Yeah!" you responded. "He's just fucking out of it!"

"Hey, don't you talk about me." he slurred, finally getting back up on his own two feet. "I'm doing just fine." You wrapped your arm around his waist and the both of you, mostly because of him, stumbled closer to the water, sitting on the beginning of the sand bar. "You are so fucking pretty, has anyone told you that? Well no one besides me should be telling you that anyways."

"You do, all the time, baby." you replied, giving him a warm smile. As the waves came on shore and went, you made sure that Jim got wet to cool his body down. You got water in your hands to put on his hair, making sure none of it got in his eyes, because it is ocean water after all. And all while you were doing this, he was sitting there thinking how he didn't deserve you. He was sitting next to you, a drunken and high mess in the sand, wondering how he got so lucky.

"Why do you do this for me?" he asked, swaying a little bit.

"Because I love you, Jim. No matter what. We all still have some demons to fight and we're going to fight them together."

"I'm so tired of fighting my demons." You could hear that he wanted to start crying. "I'm so fucked up. I feel like I'm never enough for you. You deserve so much more than what I give you."

"Jim do you remember what we said to each other the first time you ever spent the night at my house?" Well he probably doesn't because he's too intoxicated. You questioned yourself as to why you even asked, but then he gave you answer.

"If it ever gets too much, or you want out, or you feel like you can't do this anymore, the first sign, so we don't hurt each other, say something."

"And I haven't said anything and I don't plan on saying anything. Jim you are more than enough for me. Behind your hard exterior, is a caring guy and that's who I fell in love with." He sighed, slowly laying back into the sand, not caring how many times the water brushed up against him. You did the same, turning your head to meet his gaze. You ran your hand across his cheek, running your thumb over his perfectly shaped jaw. You could tell his was trying to calm down, trying to ride his intoxication, rather than letting it ride him. His breathing slowed from being erratic to almost normal. He grabbed onto your hand, giving it a gentle kiss before placing it on his chest.

"I love you so much, Y/N. And I know I'm a little fucked right now, but I mean that. Sober or not sober." he slurred. "I m-m-m" He hiccuped.

"Ssssh." You put your finger to his lips, just wanting him to focus on calming himself down. "Relax, baby. Close your eyes if you need to. I know and I'm right here with you."

I'll always be right here with you.

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid

#cody fern #cody fern imagine #jim mason #jim mason imagine #jim mason smut #tribes of palos verdes #jim mason x reader #michael langdon #xavier plympton #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon smut #xavier plympton imagine

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bluebirdsbluebells · 4 years

Text

you get what you get - part five

pairing: jj maybank x reader (some topper x reader but it’s not romanticized at all)

summary: one mistake. one little mistake. that was all it took for everything to suddenly flip. you knew that you should’ve stayed in that night, and you were right from the beginning. you should’ve never let the blonde from the beach walk you home, and you were paying the price for it.

words: 3.5k

warnings: swearing, angst, fighting

a/n: this part isn’t that great but it’s important for the chapters to come:)

series masterlist

Your palms were incredibly clammy, and you rocked back on your heels, your stomach twisting and flipping and turning. You were extremely nervous to say the least, and you knew that you shouldn’t have been. Topper was your boyfriend, not your enemy. He loved you; he said that he could never hate you, so why did you feel so scared?

You were bound to get caught eventually. It was only a matter of time before Topper actually realized what was going on, and of course you had braced yourself for the consequences, but you were only human, and you couldn’t prepare for everything.

You let out a slow breath, trying to calm yourself down. You had been standing on Topper’s doorstep for almost fifteen minutes, and you were starting to feel like a bit of a creep. You knew that his parents weren’t home because both of their cars were missing, so it was just Topper. You were also sure that he was home because you could hear the very unmistakable Hip-Hop/Rap music coming from upstairs. He had the his window closed, but you could still tell that it was blasting; the house practically shook. You weren’t sure if that was a good or bad sign. You knew that knocking would do nothing to alert him that you were there, and you debated calling him or just walking inside. You actually had tried the handle, and it was unlocked, but you were too scared to step inside. You had never felt like that before, and it was a red flag for you. Unfortunately it wasn’t the first, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last.

“Fuck,” you muttered, running your fingers through your hair roughly before hastily pressing down on the little round doorbell. You stepped away from the door, sucking in another slow breath as you looked up at Topper’s window. Well, it certainly didn’t get quieter. You could’ve sworn the music got at least three times louder, and you could hear Future getting at it, talking about getting rich and fucking hoes and doing whatever the hell kind of shit those guys did. You pressed on the doorbell again, craning your neck up to look at the window, but again there was nothing. You sighed as you pulled out your phone, dialing his number for the fourth time that hour. To no surprise he didn’t answer, and you shoved your phone back in your pocket with frustration.

You rang the doorbell for the third time, and by that point you were beginning to get a little upset. Surely he didn’t want anything to end, so why wasn’t he talking about it with you? He rarely shut you out like that, and it both alarmed and annoyed you. Sometimes you thought he just needed to grow up. Letting out a frustrated huff you twisted the knob, then slipped through the door. It was a comfortable cold inside the house, something that your parents could never seem to quite acquire in your own home. You kicked off your shoes, then looked up the stairs. Topper’s music was a thousand times louder now that you were inside, and you winced as you started up the steps to his room.

You hadn’t informed anyone about what you were doing. You knew that Emerson would’ve told you to take a step back and meditate or something, and Scarlett would’ve just wanted you to down a bottle and forget about him, but you couldn’t. An angry Topper resulted in a series of very unfortunate and uncomfortable events, and you just wanted to get the worst part over and done with.

As you neared his room you felt your palms go all clammy again, and your stomach knotted up. You halted in front of the door, your hand hovering over the knob. From inside you could hear the distinctive yells and shouts from the Backstreet Boys, which you thought was a bit of an odd choice, but you hadn’t gone all that way just to judge Topper’s music taste. Slowly, you pushed the door open, revealing your very flustered boyfriend, who was forcefully typing away at his computer. You stood in the hallway for a moment, waiting for his reaction, but he didn’t even look up. “Topper,” you said, your hand dropping to your side as the door swung open further, but Topper still didn’t look up. “Topper!” You said, a little louder and a lot more firmly. “Y/N,” he replied, and you could barely hear him over the pounding of the music. He wouldn’t look at you, but he stopped his typing. “What an absolutely lovely surprise.” He placed his laptop on his bed, then swung his legs over the side, his hands gripping the sheets. His eyes were fixed on the floor, and his brows drew together. “We need to talk,” you damn near shouted, and he just let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “I think you should leave.” “Turn down the music,” you said, giving Topper a firm look, and he glanced up at you, unamused. “What was that?” He asked, and you felt your jaw tense. It wasn’t going to be easy. “I said turn down the music Topper,” you repeated, stepping into the room. He watched you do so, his tongue swiping over his lips before he stood up.

“I’m sorry,” he said, strolling lazily across his room to his desk. “I can’t hear you.” He locked eyes with you as he pressed down on his speaker, the volume of the music increasing even more. When you opened your mouth to speak, you couldn’t even hear your own voice, and you clenched your jaw, letting out a frustrated sigh. You then crossed the room, trying to reach for the speaker, but Topper stepped in front of you, sticking out his chest to block your path. “Topper,” you said shortly. “Turn it off.” “What?” He asked, tilting his head at you.

“I said fucking turn it off,” you replied, furrowing your brows at him. He was being fucking difficult, and he knew it. The chances of him not caring were high, and that pissed you off even more. He had pulled this card before, but most times he would come to his senses quickly and you would work it out. You could tell that that time was different though.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” Topper said -- well, he shouted --, tilting his head to the side as he stepped away from you. “I think I have something in my ear.” He tapped on the side of his head, then frowned. “Fucking- don’t do this,” you shouted back at him, and he just raised his brows at you as if to say “well, you get what you get”. “Do what? Sorry,” he replied smugly. Just then you lurched for the speaker, trying to hit the power button, but you must’ve hit something else, because the song switched from loud bass to something very different. You knocked the speaker off of the desk, and it brought down one bowl and one large stack of papers. “Fuck!” Topper cursed, dropping to his knees, and you paused, just then realized what was playing. “Is this- is this Britney Spears?” “No!” Topper yelled, trying to reach for the speaker, but he had one of those desks that had a built in back, and it was lodged between the wall and the wood of the desk. “Fuck!” It was fucking Britney Spears singing fucking Baby One More Time.

“I didn’t know you listened to Britney Spears.” You tried to stifle your laughter, and Topper gave you an angry glance. “I don’t! Shut the fuck up!” He stood back up, patting his pockets. “Where’s my fucking phone?” You stepped away, staring at him with bewilderment. Well, that was sure one way to ruin the moment. There was nothing wrong with Britney -- you loved jamming to her music -- but it was just unexpected. In your months of dating Topper you had never known that he was a fan. “Topper-” “Shut the fuck up!” He repeated, throwing his hands out to the sides, his face practically beet red. He then spun around and yanked the desk away from the wall, and the speaker clattered to the floor. He powered it off quickly, and then the room was silent apart from his heavy breathing. Topper stood rigid, and you tensed up as well. The mood had yet again shifted, and you were brought back to the reality of your situation. “Topper I didn’t mean to-” “Get out of my house Y/N,” he said quietly, but his voice was low and cold. You straightened, feeling a pang shoot through your chest. “Topper-” “You have no respect, you know that?” He turned around slowly, dropping the speaker to the floor. His face was contorted with anger as he spoke, and you winced at his words. “I’m just trying to be a good boyfriend to you. I had a small request; a teeny tiny request: that you stay away from that fucking pogue, but no, you wouldn’t listen. Is it so bad to threaten your boyfriend like that? I’m starting to think that you’re not loyal Y/N. You’re sneaking around with this kid, and you lie to me, and then you come into my house and expect me to just take you in and forgive you. This is your mess Y/N, and it’s fucking disrespectful.” You kept thinking that he was going to stop talking, but he just kept going, and with each word you felt a greater pit start to sink in your stomach. Slowly you backed away from him, your face pinching up with hurt, and mostly because he was right. You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew that he was right. You had been disrespectful, and just a bad person. If you had asked Topper to stay away from… Sarah Cameron for example, he probably would’ve done it without a second thought, but there you were ignoring him because you liked the thrill of it.

You rushed down his steps, then threw open the front door, tears pricking at your eyes. You swiped the back of your palm across them as the back of your throat began to close up. You had just made your way down Topper’s driveway and were out on the driveway when you were startled by a familiar voice. “So, how was that?” JJ asked, and you blinked at him, slightly taken aback. He was leaning against the stone wall that lined Topper’s property, his arms crossed over one another. “I have to go,” you said, turning away from him and continuing to walk down the sidewalk, tears still blurring your vision. “Not good, I assume?” JJ said, jogging to catch up with you. You gave him the side eye, then sighed, your pace quickening. “It’s fine, he’s an asshole anyways.” You couldn’t help it; a small sob escaped your lips, and then that was when JJ realized that something was seriously wrong. “Hey,” he said quietly, and he grabbed your biceps, turning you to face him. His expression softened when he saw the tears in your eyes, and then he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your frame. Without thinking you leaned your head into him, and then you let the tears fall, your arms hanging limply at your sides.

“I can’t be here,” you hiccuped into his chest, and JJ’s hold loosened. You pulled back, wiping at your tear streaked cheeks, and he tilted his head at you, concern lacing his features. “What do you mean?” He asked, and you shook your head at him, dropping your gaze down to the sidewalk. “This is wrong,” you said. “I fucked up.” “Hey,” JJ said, dipping down so that he could catch your eye. You looked to the side, and tilted his head to meet your gaze again. You stared at him, then sighed, pulling away from his arms entirely. “Tell me what happened,” he said quietly, and you frowned, shaking your head. “I hate to say it,” you replied, laughing with defeat. “But you’re the problem.” JJ straightened, and he tugged at his red ballcap.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and you side stepped him, trying to head down the rest of the sidewalk. You just wanted to get home. “Y/N.” “I’m going home JJ, and I won’t be seeing you again.” “What?” He asked, grabbing onto your wrist to stop you, but you pulled it out his grasp. “Just like that?” “I told you before that it was stupid of me,” you said quietly, your eyes falling down to the cracked sidewalk. “Well, now I just got my shit rocked for it.”

“Hey,” he said for the fucking third time. Your tears were starting to be ones of frustration, and you spun around, letting out a shaky breath.

“I put my relationship at risk for this JJ,” you admitted. “I knew that and I did it anyway because it was fun. Well I’m done with it now.” You didn’t like telling him to essentially fuck off, but you knew that it was necessary. The truth was that you had enjoyed your time spent with him. Maybe you had enjoyed it just a little too much, and that was what scared you. You had started to begin to want to spend more time with JJ, and less with Topper. As much as your boyfriend pissed you off sometimes, he didn’t deserve to feel unworthy of your time, or of your attention.

Days passed, and you and Topper were still on bad terms. You had tried to call him multiple times, and when he finally answered, the two of you only started fighting again. It had started with JJ, but then slowly it diverged to other things as well; how you felt like he monitored your whole life, and how he thought that you believed he was stupid and irresponsible, and then how you both believed that the other didn’t care about the relationship. Overall, the two of you just fought and fought and fought, and it wasn’t good.

And with all of the shit that had been going on, you had barely had any time for your schoolwork. You were falling behind in your assignments, and for the first time in maybe your whole life you had completely forgotten about a test. No studying, no review, no nothing. You had gone into a unit test with almost no recollection of what had happened over the lessons, and it was the most stressed out that you had ever felt in your entire life. As soon as your teacher started handing out the booklets your stomach sunk, and you thought up every excuse that you knew to leave the room, but you didn’t say anything. Instead you just sat there in shock, and wrote the test with a hollow feeling inside of you. “Y/N?” Scarlett asked, haltering her conversation with Emerson. You staggered out of the classroom, close to tears. “Yeah?” You replied quickly, not making eye contact. “You okay?” She asked, placing one hand on your arm. “You don’t look well.” “Just tired,” you replied, giving her a tight smile. Emerson frowned at you, but you turned away from the two of them before they could make another comment. You practically sprinted down the hallway and out the doors, and as soon as you were in your car you burst into tears. Everything just seemed overwhelming.

You fumbled with your phone, then without thinking you dialled Topper’s number, praying that he would pick up. You hadn’t seen him at school the whole day, so you had no idea where he was. But with no surprise he didn’t answer, so you tried a second time.

“Y/N,” he answered shortly, and your jaw dropped slightly. You hadn’t expected him to pick up, and you were stunned to hear his voice. “Topper- I-” you started, a sob catching in your throat. “Can we talk please?” “I don’t have time for your bullshit,” Topper replied, and your lip quivered at the harshness of his tone. It was understandable that he was upset, but over the past couple of days he hadn’t been holding back at all. “I had a rough day,” you whispered. “Can we talk? I just want to talk. I’m sorry.” “You had a rough day? Tell me about it,” Topper snapped, and you could hear Rafe and Kelce’s banter in the background. “I can’t think straight with all of your whining.” “I’m sorry, okay?” You repeated, swiping at your eyes and dipping your head down so that nobody could see the tears that had begun to trickle down your cheeks. “I just want to talk. I’m tired of fighting.” “You’re being dramatic,” he said. “Calm down. Take a deep breath. You’ll be fine, alright? You need to stop complaining all the time, Jesus. You act like I’m the one that threatened the relationship. You have it easy Y/N, you just make things more difficult because you have nothing else to do.”

You hung up on him. You didn’t even know what you were thinking, but it was stupid for you to assume he would suddenly forgive you. You sniffled, wiping the back of your hand under your nose before you shakily dialled the next number that came to mind. You had gotten his contact just in case you needed to cancel your so-called “surf lessons”.

“Hello?” JJ answered on the second ring, and you let out a half sob half laugh at his voice. “JJ,” you said quietly, swiping at your eyes again. “You got a minute?” “Not really, but for you? Of course,” he replied, and you could hear the distinct whir of a motor, and the silence as he killed it. He was on the water somewhere. “Are- are you sure? I can-” “No, it’s okay,” he replied softly. “What’s up?” “I just had a bad day,” you replied, your voice catching as another tear rolled down your cheek. You propped one elbow up on the window, and then leaned your temple against your palm, sighing. “I completely forgot about this major unit test and I’ve been slipping with the schoolwork and…” “Hey,” JJ comforted. “It’s okay. One missing assignment never killed anybody. Look at me, I can’t remember the last time I handed in a project and I’m still here.” You cracked a small smile, sniffling again. Your head was beginning to ache from furrowing your brows, and you rubbed your forehead, trying to smoothen out the wrinkles. “I guess,” you said, shielding your eyes. “I guess so.”

“How’s it going with Topper?” “I don’t want to talk about it,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. “But it’s not good.”

JJ was silent on the other line, and then you heard him sigh. “It’s my fault,” he said. “I crossed the line.” “No it’s mine,” you protested. “I should’ve listened to him in the first place. It frustrated me I guess. We’re just friends, I don’t know why he’s so upset.” JJ was quiet again, so quiet that you thought he had hung up on you.

“Yeah,” he finally said. “You’re right. I provoked him though.” You swallowed tightly. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you said, shaking your head again, then resting your chin on your palm, looking out at the school. You spotted one of your teachers -- Mrs. Hardy -- and she waved at you as she crossed the parking lot. You gave her a small smile and waved back, then turned your attention down to your lap.

“Is there anything I can do Y/N?” JJ asked, and I heard the engine start to rev up again. “I can come by if you want.” “No,” you cut him off quickly. “I think it’s best if we just… don’t see each other for a bit. For now at least.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, and from the other line the motor sputtered. “Fair enough,” JJ replied, sighing slightly. “I’m here for you though, you know that right?” “Of course,” you answered, nodding at your lap. “I’m sorry to overwhelm you with all of this. Jeez, I’m a mess sometimes.” “This is the first time I’ve seen you ‘in a mess’ Y/N.” JJ laughed. “Something tells me it doesn’t happen often. Calm down, take a deep breath; you’ll be okay.” Topper had said almost the exact same thing, but JJ sounded a million times more sincere, and your heart ached.

“You’re right,” you answered, straightening in your seat a bit. You swiped at your eyes one more time, then started up your car. “Thanks JJ.”

“Hey, I just told you the truth.”

“That’s good enough for me, thank you, really.”

@tangledinsparkles @ponyboys-sunsets @heliopvth @dontjinx-it @jolomez @queen1054 @k-n-e @thewackywriter @alwayshopeless @ilymarkchan @dar3devils @jjsthumbring @nostalthicc @sspidermanss @poguelifeeee @mieczyslawmikaelsonn @maybebanks @itsriasblog @dolanfivsosxox @vnderoos @kaylinfayezink @imsad05 @sidon-and-sybil @alexa-playafricabytoto @uglygal123 @outrbank @toomanypeopleoutthere @annedub @jjmaybnks @hiddleless @ineedmorestyles @babyhoneystvles @lovelyfreshfestival @ravenclawmarvel @maddiebee2019 sorry some tags didn’t work:(

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fics #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #rudy pankow fics #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fics

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shutupandshipit · 3 years

Text

Little Socks - Oneshot

Summary: So, Katsuki thought maybe he was ready to broach a subject the two of them had never discussed before. Not even in passing. "Izu," he said, head pillowed on his arms on the edge of the tub while he waited for his alpha to finish rinsing off and join him.

"Yes, love?" Izuku replied absentmindedly, hands still shoved root deep into his mass of curls. Even wet and brushing his waist, his hair was still thick with a stray curl poking out here and there in rebellion against the water.

Katsuki's omega purred contentedly in his chest at the pet name. He let the sound out, just a quiet rumble from his nostrils, barely loud enough to hear. "Have you ever thought of having pups?"

.....

Or where Katsuki and Izuku discuss having kids, and Izuku lets on about a fear he has.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T

Author’s Note: It’s a Christmas fic, y’all. Pure and simple fluff. Enjoy!

Katsuki and Izuku had been together for the better part of a rather domestically happy decade. Yeah, they had their bad days just like any other couple, but they were good more often than not. Christmas Eve found them getting ready to wrap up another happy year together. This would be their first holiday season together without being on call for some time because even though the country pretty much shut down for the holiday, villainy never ceased. So, heroes took turns being on call during the holidays. This year they weren't even on the list as backups. They had from the 24th of December all the way to the 2nd of January all to themselves.

So, Katsuki thought maybe he was ready to broach a subject the two of them had never discussed before. Not even in passing. "Izu," he said, head pillowed on his arms on the edge of the tub while he waited for his alpha to finish rinsing off and join him.

Katsuki's omega purred contentedly in his chest at the pet name. He let the sound out, just a quiet rumble from his nostrils, barely loud enough to hear. "Have you ever thought of having pups?" Whether it was an outcome of his stupid omega brain or a conclusion he'd come to on his own, Katsuki had wanted children with Izuku since they'd gotten together in their first year as pro-heroes. Not wanting to push, he'd never mentioned the topic and figured Izuku would eventually bring it up. They'd been unmarried, sharing a teeny tiny apartment with four other people, just starting out and living paycheck to paycheck. It had been a bad time, so he'd let it drift to the back of his mind, and waited.

Things were different now though, and Izuku still hadn't brought it up. The idea. The possibility. The, Katsuki was hesitant to say, eventuality.

Izuku stalled for the space of a moment, but didn't raise his head to look at Katsuki. It was harder to tell with the heavy moist air of the room, but a sour note slashed straight through Izuku's normally mint and rainstorm scent. He could hear as Izuku swallowed and continued rinsing conditioner from his hair. "Uh, no, not really. Why do you ask?" That sour note flared again.

A lie if Katsuki had ever heard one from Izuku. Taking the higher road, he didn't call him on it.

Humming, he reached out a hand to wrap a strand of Izuku's hair around his fingers. "Just been thinking that we're in a good place for it. We're at the top of the hero charts, have a steady income. We're not starving sidekicks anymore. We've been married for three years now, and mated longer. I think we're ready."

Finishing, Izuku wound his hair into a knot on the top of his head that Katsuki was going to have to untangle for him later, and waited for Katsuki to adjust so he could climb in between his legs. Izuku leaned back against his chest. Catching one of his hands, he dugs his thumbs into the sensitive flesh of his palm, massaging gently.

"Izu?" Katsuki said against the top of his head when he didn't answer. He couldn't see Izuku's face, but he could feel the tension all along his back.

"That was a lie."

"I know."

"It's just that..." Trailing off, Izuku released a frustrated little huff.

"Do you not want to have kids?" Katsuki's omega whined pitifully in his chest, jumping to conclusions as it always did. He shoved its head down, refusing to take Izuku's silence as confirmation.

Izuku didn't speak until he moved to Katsuki's opposite hand. "It's not that, it's just that... I'm scared."

Katsuki pressed a kiss to the back of Izuku's neck before moving to pepper his shoulders. "Why are you scared?"

Breath hitching, Izuku tilted his head in submission and Katsuki's omega purred at the display. "It's just that... I didn't grow up with my dad around. I haven't seen him since I was four. I haven't talked to him since I was six! The only reason we know he isn't dead is the flowers he sends every year on my parents' anniversary and my birthday cards!"

Katsuki ran his free hand over Izuku's belly, pulling his flush against his body. "I remember the day he left. It was the first day we met and I shared my ice cream with you because you looked so pitiful. Even your All Might balloon looked depressed, partially deflated and almost hitting the floor. It was so ugly."

Izuku snorted out a small laugh which was the whole reason Katsuki had mentioned it anyway. "I just... how am I supposed to know how to be a dad when I never had one around? What if I'm a terrible dad? I don't... want to be a bad dad. I don't want to be like mine was... is."

"Izuku, baby, listen to me," Katsuki said, moving his hand so that he could slot their fingers together, squeezing tightly, "You're not going to be a bad father, you want to know how I know? Because you had a mother who raised you right. You're great with kids of all ages. And you're you. Nobody is perfect, that's not what I'm saying. Everyone makes mistakes. That's why there's two of us. We're a team."

Izuku struggled against his hold, trying to turn and face him, but Katsuki held fast. He snarled, frustrated. "You don't know that though! You can't know that!"

"I do because you're my mate! I wouldn't have chosen some two-bit alpha who was going to be a shit dad," Katsuki told him truthfully, and sighed when Izuku only continued to struggle. He let his alpha turn to face him, but caught his face in his hands before he could talk. "Izuku, just fucking be there and you'll already be doing better."

Tears filled Izuku's eyes and spilled over just as quickly. Shakily, he asked, "You really think I'd be a good father?"

"Yes."

"You really want to have kids with me?"

Katsuki pressed a kiss to his nose and then his forehead. "Have since we first started dating."

Green eyes grew impossibly wide. "Really?"

"Really really."

Izuku beamed, pressing in for a languid kiss that Katsuki drank up. When they pulled apart, Izuku was still smiling.

"Get back in here, nerd," Katsuki grumbled, pushing on Izuku's shoulder to get him to turn back around. "Tomorrow's Christmas, and I want to get to bed soon."

.....

They woke with the rising of the sun like the did most mornings, but Christmas was a particularly special sunrise for them. It had been the day they'd started dating, tipsy and swaying beneath mistletoe at Yaoyorozu's home. Bundled tight in heavy coats and scarves, they climbed to the top of the roof with cups of steaming coffee to cuddle together as the first rays of sun crested over the horizon. Around them, the world's sounds were silenced with the thick blanket of fresh snow.

Anxiety was a thick cord around Katsuki's throat making it difficult to enjoy that silence, and it was all he could do not to let the anxiety leak into his scent. He tugged at his scarf as he cleared his throat. Izuku glanced over at him with sleepy green eyes and that dopey enamored smiled Katsuki loved so much. "Listen, I know we're not doing gifts till later, but I want you to open this one now." He extracted a thin black box from the pocket of his coat, holding it out to Izuku with a trembling hand.

Sitting up straight, Izuku stared down at the box in confusion. When he traded his coffee mug for it, he frowned and then grinned again. "What's in here, Kacchan? It's so light."

Rolling his eyes, Katsuki huffed, "Just open it, alright."

There wasn't much too it, just a lidded box he'd taped shut and slapped a bow on the top of, but he'd kept it tucked away just for this moment.

Izuku was careful as the sky began to brighten. He peeled each piece of tape off to ball up and tuck away in his pocket. When he lifted the lid and handed it to Katsuki, he just stared down in confusion at the contents.

The anxiety reared up again, hot in Katsuki's stomach, musky and so thick in his scent that even he could smell it. His omega whined just as anxiously, a high whistling trill only he could hear. They waited.

Izuku picked up the teeny tiny pair of socks, one patterned with his hero colors and the other with Katsuki's. He chuckled, and Katsuki's throat clenched. Izuku hadn't turned to look at him yet which gave him time to hide the sheer panic that roared through him. "These are so cute, Kacchan," he cooed, "but it's kind of a weird gag gift. These are way too small for me. They're small enough for a-" He cut off abruptly, eyes having dropped back to see what else was in the box.

Tears bloomed in his eyes as he picked up the picture of an ultrasound, hands trembling as he stared. He looked to Katsuki, smile watery. "Is this- Are you- Kacchan?"

Katsuki nodded, mouth still set in an uncertain line as he looked at Izuku. "I'm pregnant. I found out a few weeks ago, but I wanted it to be a surprise. I didn't know how you would react, and-"

With a happy cry, Izuku launched himself at Katsuki, and the careful grip he'd had on their cups disappeared in favor of making sure they didn't go plummeting to their deaths. Their cups clattered down the roof and dropped into the snow with soft ' thumps '.

Izuku pressed kiss after kiss across Katsuki's face until they were both laughing with the thrill of it. "You're pregnant! I'm going to be a dad! I-I-I-I-" He was sobbing, full-bodied and snotty and grinning. "Kacchan, I can't wait!"

"There's going to be nothing to wait for if you knock us off the roof and kill us, shitty nerd!" But he was laughing and holding Izuku back just as tightly as they rocked to and fro. Their scents tangled and mixed as harmoniously as they always had.

Pulling back and kissing Katsuki again, he said, "Let's name her Katsumi!"

"You don't even know if they're going to be a girl!"

"Taiyo if they're a boy!" Izuku replied immediately, smile blinding as the orange sunrise illuminated his face, "But I just know. It's an alpha thing. They're going to be a girl."

Rolling his eyes, Katsuki just hugged Izuku tightly against his chest, pressing a kiss to his alpha's forehead.

"Best Christmas present ever," Izuku whispered.

Of course just like Izuku predicted, when their baby was delivered, they had a little girl.

#my hero academia #mha #bakudeku #dekubaku #izuku midoriya #katsuki bakugo #omegaverse #omega!katsuki #because I'm so fucking soft for omega!katsuki #alpha!izuku #my writing #one shot #little socks

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baby-grayson · 4 years

Text

Kind Stranger| Part 2|GBD

Read Part 1 Here

Word Count: 2.8k (teeny tiny)

Trigger Warning: quarantine talk Tags (Thank you to the amazing dumpling that taught me how to do this!!): @evergreendolan @someonetogray @vintagedolan A/N: Thank you to everyone who gave me their thoughts on the first part. Please let me know what you think on this one, I love getting any kind of feedback.

Grayson opened his eyes as the earliest rays of sunlight trickled in through his window. He pushed himself out of his bed and began his morning routine in a daze: half asleep as he brushed his teeth and found a clean pair of underwear. His consciousness awoke during his daily piece of avocado toast, which he ate while enjoying the view from their kitchen window. In his groggy state, he left the plate at the table when he went to put a load of laundry in the washer. He took the liberty of moving Ethan’s clothes from the washer to the dryer and starting it for him.

Grayson retrieved his phone from his nightstand, opening twitter for a brief scroll. He and Ethan published their video about Ethan’s acne yesterday; twitter was not very pleased with them. Grayson’s jaw tightened as he read the accusations about him and his brother. Grayson forcefully planted his phone back on his nightstand. He ran his hands through his hair, thinking back to the long nights on the couch where he wrapped an arm around Ethan’s shoulder and consoled him through his journey towards self-love. Without opening it again, Grayson shoved his phone in his pocket before grabbing the keys to the van from on top of his dresser. Walking out of the house, he quickly scanned the entryway and living room. He stopped and went back to place his avocado toast plate into the sink, reminding himself to wash it when he got home. He scanned again, not seeing anything out of place. Silently, he wished Ethan sweet dreams from across the house and slipped out the front door.

His breath left him when he reached the shore at his favorite morning beach. His lips turned down, jaw tightening as he noticed that her footsteps laid in the sand before he arrived. “Of fucking course,” Grayson groaned softly before collapsing down to the ground. It wasn’t enough that his brother was being accused of ugly things by strangers, but he missed crossing paths with Kate for the first time in the two weeks since their nearly silent friendship started. He laid back on the sand, feeling thousands of tiny, jagged pieces creep under his shirt and into the waistband of his shorts.

For a fraction of a second, Grayson thought about grabbing his phone from his pocket and looking again at the comments. He stopped himself quickly. Taking a deep breath, he knew the best way to deal with this feeling was with Ethan by his side. Ethan grounded him. Ethan tethered him back to Earth. Ethan was the cautious, practical mind to Grayson’s own idealistic, fanciful one. Grayson thought about Ethan, at home and laying in his bed. He hoped his brother slept well and long. Poor Ethan was going to wake up to the same storm that greeted Grayson.

No, he’s not going to think about this, Grayson decided dwelling on this topic was no use without his brother. Grayson sat up, his eyes followed Kate’s footsteps all the way to the right and then all the way to the left. Why was he so excited to see her? She was just a girl. A pretty girl, sure. But Grayson had met lots of pretty girls over the years. Damn, Ethan was right…maybe Gray was getting desperate. Next thing you know, he would be writing love letters to the old lady at the grocery store check out counter.

Damning Ethan aside, Grayson was genuinely excited to see Kate. She had crossed his mind more than once during his morning drive. He didn’t know anything about her. Grayson looked down at her footprints again, the only sign that she had already crossed the shore. He squinted.

One footprint was deeper than the other. Odd. He reached over with his own thumb to make sure his eyes were not tricking him. Yup, one foot was a whole half-thumb deeper than the other. Maybe she wears weird shoes. He didn’t think long on this before kicking some sand into the footprint. He swung his shirt from his head and rested it beside him. He laid back. If he couldn’t surf, and he couldn’t talk to a pretty girl, the least he could do was work on his tan.

The sun felt good on his skin. His breathing slowed, and he found a serene inner quiet. On that early Thursday morning, on a secluded beach in Malibu, Grayson found a moment of peace.

“You’re late” He grinned, feeling his face get warm.

“I thought you already left,” he opened his eyes to be greeted by her smile. “You do realize I have to walk back to get to my car right?” she chuckled and kicked off her sandals. She laid her purse in the sand and dropped to sit beside Grayson. He noted a sweet, citrus scent as she settled down on the sand.

“I guess I didn’t think about you having a car, you kind of just appeared here every day” “That’s fair, I’m probably just a figment of your imagination.” If it wasn’t for her laugh, Grayson would have considered that a possibility. “That is a possibility,” he chuckled, “why do you come out here anyways?”

She paused for a moment. Grayson noticed the sea breeze lift her dark locks from her shoulders. “I’m new to town,” she decided on. “Being stuck in my apartment during a pandemic, when I don’t know anyone around here gets real boring, real quick.” Grayson nodded in agreement. “What about you? I’m surprised you’re here without your board.”

Grayson sucked in a soft breath against his teeth, “I like being here. I mean, I like the beach. It’s a good place to get away, have a moment.” “Wow, that’s deep dude.” She looked at him with a glossy look in her eye and her lips pursed. Grayson looked back, feeling his cheeks get warm again. She threw her head back and let out a loud laugh. “I’m sorry. Sarcasm isn’t nice,” she said with a warm smile. Grayson shook his head softly and smiled at her, “I’m down with it.” Was that cringe? It sounded cringe. “But no, I really love the beach. I guess it’s my space to not have to think about the rest of the world.” “Hm..how California boy of you,” Grayson chuckled along with her this time. She was cute, the way she poked gentle fun at him. She was silly. “So you said you’re new here? where are you from?” She started “West Philadelphia born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days” Grayson joined in “Chilin out maxin relaxin all cool, shooting some b-ball outside in the hood” They shared a warm laugh. Grayson grinned as she flashed him one of her bright smiles. “But really, where are you from?” He probed. She laughed, “West Philly, born and raised. Weren’t you listening?!” They giggled together.

“That’s cool,” he responded as his smile grew wider by the second. “I’m from just over the river in New Jersey.”

“Oh, so you’re not a native California boy. So tell me— how long do I have before the water gets to me and I turn into a blonde, Instagram goddess?” There she goes again, soft pokes. Kind of like kindergarten.

“I’m not sure. I’ve been here five years and I have yet to turn into a goddess if that means anything”

She laughed, “Well it’s good to know time is on my side.” She played with the brown leather band of a simple wristwatch. She looked down at the watch face and mumbled, “shit.” She started to gather her purse and sandals from the sand and stand as she said, “I’ve got to go. I’m going to be late for…something.” She wrestled her sandals onto her feet.

Grayson felt a wave of awkwardness wash over his body. Should he offer to walk her to the car? No, that’s too much. Should he ask what she’s going to be late for? Maybe that’s a little creepy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” She pushed her hair behind her ears, looking down at Grayson on the ground. “Yeah I’ll be here tomorrow.” Grayson smiled shyly, more aware of his body language now than he had been for the past half hour.

She started to walk up the beach but looked back at him, “Don’t be late! Bye Grayson” His name sounded good coming out of her mouth.

”Bye Kate!” Shit, I should have asked for her number.

Once she was out of earshot, Grayson groaned out loud and threw a rock into the ocean. He watched the tiny, smooth thing pierce through the rough, complicated ocean surface. Grayson wiped the sand off his body as he stood up and started to walk back to his van.

When Grayson arrived home, he found Ethan at the counter, in his underwear, eating some cereal and dairy free milk. “You see twitter?” Ethan commented as Grayson put his keys down. For a small moment, Grayson had forgotten about the video fiasco. For a second, he had forgotten about every part of his place on the internet. His tough but clearly upset brother brought him back to reality. Grayson moved toward the counter and wrapped a familiar arm around Ethan’s shoulders.

***********

As Grayson settled into bed, later that same day, his mom called him. His mother asked if he and Ethan were willing to fly out to New Jersey to spend the weekend with her. His mother told him that his sister was coming for the weekend and she wanted all of her kids under the same roof for a few nights. Grayson told his mom that he and Ethan would make it out to Jersey for the weekend, wished her a good night, and said he loved her. Grayson used his phone to buy two plane tickets for Friday evening: tomorrow evening.

He thought about Kate. What if he doesn’t show up on Saturday and Kate thinks he’s not interested? Or mean? Or weird? Or a flake? And deep down, in a place he wasn’t ready to touch yet, he wanted more of her. He found solace in how different she was, so grounded and natural compared to his LA lifestyle. His own slice of New Jersey on a California beach.

He wanted to go back and talk to her every day, all day, until they both lost their voices and had to draw pictures in the sand to communicate. He had yet to separate these deep feelings from his general loneliness, it had been over a year since he was more than anyone’s ‘Netflix and Chill’. Ethan had taken to calling him desperate and urging Grayson to audition for the Bachelor. He pushed these thoughts aside, not having the emotional bandwidth to process this all right now. He was going to ask for her number. People still did that right? Maybe it had been too long for Grayson…

**********

The next morning, Grayson felt the beach winds move through his loose muscle shirt. He ran a hand through his hair, still getting used to its new short form. He decided against sitting on the sand since he was not intending to be planted on the ground today.

The decision not to sit started his anxiety. He was changing their routine, what if she wasn’t okay with it? Why didn’t he think of this earlier? How long were they going to spend together? What if she was just being nice? What is it that she called herself? Yeah what if she was just being a kind stranger?

Once more, he ran a hand through his hair. He plunged both of his hands into his pockets to prevent any future hair touching. He took a deep breath in, listened to a wave break on the shore, and released the air from his lung. When he looked up, a dainty, happy figure was walking toward him. “Good Morning” she said sweetly. “Good Morning,” Grayson smiled and took his hands out of his pockets. Oh no, did he just mess up his outfit? “Would you believe this is the first time I’ve seen you standing up?” she placed a hand over her eyes to look up at his face against the light of the sun. “I promise I don’t usually spend a lot of time on my ass” Was that funny? That was supposed to be funny..

She took a moment to look him up and down. Her eyes locked on his. “I thought you’d be taller”

Grayson laughed heartily while she smiled with an accomplished look on her face. He quieted down and found a moment when they were just standing there, looking at each other. A happy Grayson let the moment hang in the air before saying, “Can I join you? I’m curious to see where this beach leads.” A half-truth. Kate smiled and nodded “Yeah, come along. But don’t be disappointed, it just leads to more beach.” Grayson already knew that, but he nodded along anyway, “Still, I feel like a walk” The pair started along the shoreline together. Grayson smelled her familiar sweet, citrus scent. He felt the sunshine down on his arms and the exposed parts of his back, energizing his entire body. Her bright eyes met his and they shared a smile. From a few yards away, they heard a peculiar, gulping noise. Grayson looked up while Kate pointed and laughed at a seagull attempting to eat an entire banana.

Once again, on that Malibu beach, early in the morning, Grayson found a rare moment of peace. He looked down, seeing his large footsteps align with her tiny ones. I should say something, I should say something. Grayson felt his face go hot again. Grayson gulped down again, shaking his palms subtly to dislodge the sweat coming to the surface of his skin. He looked down at her face, beaming brighter than the sun on that Friday morning.

Grayson looked down at their feet, watching her walk along the sand. He saw her right leg dig deep into the sand, gracefully holding her body up. Then, he saw her left leg meekly touch the surface of the sand before trading off duty to the other leg. The footprints…

“Did you hurt yourself?” Grayson gestured down to her left side.

She stiffened. Her shoulders fell back like a toy soldier; small and inviting but erect and ready. Grayson’s eyes wandered to her lips; her full pink mouth sat pursed above her chin. She let out a small breath before replying. “No…I have a bad leg.” Grayson heard the period at the end of the sentence. She was curt with her words, but not harsh. “Oh, I’m sorry…” Was he sorry for asking? Or sorry that she had a bad leg? Well, he was sorry for both, so it didn’t really matter.

She nodded softly. Silence hung in the air around them. On one side of them, the ocean crashed into the shore. On the other side, an eerily quiet LA hid behind the cliffs. “Speaking of injuries,” she broke the silence, “how’s your foot?” “It’s doing better, “Grayson noted, “I’ll probably be back on my board by Monday.” Or maybe Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday… “well if you came out looking like that, I would hate to see the other guy,” she smiled sweetly at him, “even though he’s a pebble” she held in a small giggle. “Funny you say that, I’m leaving tonight to spend the weekend with my mom. I’m worried that I might meet a mean pinecone and injure the other foot,” Grayson joked. “I’ll be here if you’re in need of anymore emergency medicine” she quipped back. “Thanks for the offer,” he chuckled. “But I’m actually going home to Jersey for a few days, so I’ll be too far away for any in person care.” Grayson swallowed hard in his throat. “Could I have your number?”

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Was that funny? Did she like it? Did she like him? Was she just being polite? Was that okay? It probably wasn’t okay. He hadn’t done this for like a year and a half. Do people still use phone numbers? What if she says no, how does he play it off? He felt a single bead of sweat dance down his neck and meander its way down his back.

She looked at him. She really looked at him. She saw the diamond embeds on his canine teeth. She saw the silver chain on his neck, sparkling in the reflection of the sun. She saw the tattoos covering his legs. She saw his muscles bulging through his tank top. He was so LA, so very LA and yet he wasn’t. And that part of him that was so not LA, made her say “Yeah, of course you can.” A/N: Thank you for reading! I really appreciate it! I would love to get feedback on the length. I prefer to write in short pieces but edit them heavily before I post them. I can write longer parts but it will take more time. Also, I know the pacing is a slow so tell me how you do/don’t like that. Thank you again for reading bb <3

#grayson dolan #graysonbailey #graysonxoc #grayson and ethan #dolan twins #fanfic #fluff #fluffy #ethan #ethan dolan

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hovid19 · 4 years

Text

The Cops (Spencer Reid)

So I have a playlist I listen to when I’m super in my feelings and it’s a bunch of songs about love and broken hearts and all of that sappy shit. One of my personal favorite songs to listen to when I’m in the mood I’m in is The Cops by K.Flay. I suggest you give it a listen, because while it is the inspiration for this fic, it’s also just an incredible song!

This fic is very angsty and there’s like a teeny-tiny mention of smut, but nothing bad! I hope you all enjoy, because I had a lot of fun writing this one!

Word count: 2,236 words

You tried the best you could to blink away the tears forming in your eyes. Your head rested on your pillow, hands tucked under your cheek as you stared at the man sleeping next to you. He snored softly, his lips parted slightly, allowing some drool to slip down his cheek. You’d give everything to see this man like this every night and every morning and every hour in between. He was so beautiful. His hair was splayed out on the pillow below him, a mess of knots and tangles from the day before. He was lying on his back, though he was facing you, giving you the perfect angle to stare. Sure, it was creepy, but nothing you hadn’t done before. How do you not stare at something so pretty? You reached out to gingerly move a piece of his hair from his face, feeling him twitch ever-so-slightly under your soft touch. You sighed as you pulled your hand away, finally letting the tears fall down your cheeks. It would be eons before you found Spencer back in your bed again like this. Tomorrow, everything would change. The dynamic between the two of you was never going to be the same again, no matter what you tried to do or say to stop the shift. But, for now at least, he was here.

It had been 182 days since he had gotten down on one knee. The ring was absolutely gorgeous, a classic princess cut with a three carat diamond in the center. It was flawlessly crafted and you assumed it cost Spencer a fortune. Actually, you knew it cost Spencer a fortune. He’d complained to you on multiple occasions about how much money he had been spending recently, though you never presumed it had been on an engagement ring. You knew things were getting serious, but you never suspected marriage– and so soon. It had only been a year and a half. For Spencer, it was bold and daring and unlike him in so many ways. He was calculated and careful– everything planned meticulously down to the shoe laces that threaded into his Oxfords. He was never the type to jump the gun like this, but nonetheless, you were as happy as you could be given the circumstances.

You didn’t know love at first sight had existed until four years ago, when you met the man lying in blissful comatose in front of you. You had been anxious when Spencer– Dr. Reid as you knew him then– started asking you questions about one of your coworkers. You became increasingly more anxious when aforementioned coworker held a gun to your head when you were exiting the Virginia Beach Police Department. Spencer was the one to hold you while you cried that night.

But tonight, you held yourself in your own arms as you sobbed into the satin pillowcase, the cold fabric soft against your cheek. Your brain was on autopilot, shoving memories of Spencer to the forefront of your mind as you tried your hardest to just forget about him– forget about his hand on your neck as he held you close in a kiss and forget about his lips on your ear as he whispered secrets you and you only would ever hear. You took that as proof. Proof that somewhere deep down in his heart of hearts he saw you in the same way you saw him. There was intimacy in you and Spencer’s relationship you couldn’t find anywhere with anyone else. But it wasn’t blatant. No, for the two of you it was holding hands under the table and stolen glances at a friends party and make out sessions in an empty bathroom. He was risking too much for him to not feel the same fire in his heart you had whenever his contact flashed across your phone screen.

Two years ago, at 9:32PM, Spencer collapsed onto your couch in a messy, blissed-out heap. “You’ll never believe this girl, Y/N,” he had started, hands tugging at his hair in disbelief. “She’s unreal. I didn’t know a girl as perfect as her could exist.”

The sting in your chest was almost debilitating, your knuckles white from their grip on the granite counter in front of you. You were scared that if you let go, you’d collapse into a pile of tears and swears and cries for Spencer to hold you like he had done so many times before. “What’s her name?” You choked the question out, knowing the answer would puncture your heart.

“Natalie,” he sighed, his eyes staring up at the ceiling. You knew his daydreams were running wild with thoughts of her, and you could only hope you could be someone he would talk about to his friends. But you weren’t that girl. You weren’t Natalie, and you would never be. It took a lot to be good enough for Spencer. That big brain of his held only so much space for romantic feelings, and unfortunately, you hadn’t ended up as an object of his affection.

“Well, good,” you replied, finding something to keep you busy enough to stall the burn in your chest. It ached with every syllable he spoke about her. You settled on a bottle of Jameson that was hidden away in your pantry. “I’m just glad you’re happy.”

Six months after that, at 4:19 in the afternoon, Spencer texted you to tell you he had made things official with her. This pain was something new. It creeped into your throat and through your fingers, the pain coursing through every fiber in your body. You were accepting death as an inevitable outcome of this situation. You had heard of dying of a broken heart, and rolled your eyes every time at its mention. But now, sitting against the kitchen island and sobbing into your hands, you wished for the grim reaper to come take you any second and end the torture that your heart was receiving.

Three months later, at 10:47PM, Spencer had you pressed against your mattress, his lips pressing soft kisses to the exposed skin of your neck and collarbones for the first time, but definitely not the last. He had worked his way up to your ear, your legs squeezing tighter around his hips as he whispered, “we’re perfect for each other. Don’t believe anything else.” This was two hours after he had dropped Natalie off at her apartment.

It was an odd situation to catch yourself in. You felt dirty and confused and cheated, even though you weren’t really the one being cheated on. But every time Spencer slipped past the front door and into your bed, you forgot her name, as did he. But every time Spencer’s phone rang on the bedside table, you remembered, and so did he. It was one big mind game, but it was one you didn’t mind playing.

It took a couple of weeks to realize the reality of the relationship you’d found yourself in. It pained you to say that you were his back-up plan, especially when he was your first choice, but you had to face that fact early on or else your heart would split in two further than it had. At least you could have him, even if it was only part of him.

It was a Tuesday when he came over, throwing down his things quickly before pinning you to the kitchen counter. His hands grasped either side of your face, his lips attacking yours in a heated kiss. He knew you would never and could never say no to him. He used it to his advantage. “I want you,” he breathed out, lips moving to nibble the skin of your earlobe. “I want you so bad. Right here.”

You knew he had never truly wanted you. He just wanted your hunger for him, your desperation for him. He wanted you, but not all of you– not completely. You would never be wanted by him in the way you sought. “Take me, then, Spencer.”

That was how you ended up sitting on your kitchen floor, breath ragged and heavy as he zipped up his pants and left. Your lip trembled, tears escaping your eyes. You were his to use, whether you wanted to be or not. He had a way of getting in your head and knowing what to say. It was probably the profiler in him. He knew that no matter what you said, at the end of the day, you would always be his. And no matter how he made you feel and how much he used you, you would let him slip under your sheets whenever he wanted.

You could see the sun peer over the horizon as you stood at your kitchen counter, lips around a half empty bottle of Jim Beam. It was full this morning, but you needed as much distraction as you could get today. You had tried to run away from it all this time, hoping that it would go away on its own and you wouldn’t have to face the harsh, harsh truth of it all. You desperately wished you and Spencer could continue to live in the fantasy you had lived in for the past year that he had been playing both sides. Even though you both knew the casual sex would inevitably continue after today, there was just something so different about sleeping with the Spencer who had a fiancé than the Spencer who had a wife.

He came into the kitchen, arms slipping around your waist as he kissed your bare shoulder. His lips sucked on the skin and you were sure he was leaving a mark. A reminder that you were still his even if you couldn’t really be. “It’s eight thirty.” His voice was raspy.

“And?” you questioned, brining the bottle up to your lips again. “You’re getting married today.” It was a fact, a reminder and a reason. He seemed to hold onto you a bit tighter than before, just for a moment.

Silence enveloped the two of you as you stood there, getting drunker by the second. “I don’t know if I want to.”

You laughed, capping the bottle in your hands and setting in on the counter. You leaned back onto Spencer, feeling the warmth of his body around your frame. If only every morning could be like this. “Then don’t.”

“We can’t keep doing this.” At this, you turned in his arms, pressing your palm against his chest and pushing him away. He frowned, eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“Decide what you want,” you spoke, voice quiet as your eyes flooded. “Decide exactly what you want. You know me, Spence. You know I’m going to be here no matter what. It’s up to you to choose. But either way, just know you’re hurting someone.”

He licked his lips, leaning onto the counter behind him while he thought. You were scared. Petrified, actually. God, you loved this man with everything in you. He could do absolutely no wrong in your eyes and that’s what made him so dangerous. You waited for his answer, nearly holding your breath in anticipation.

“Well?” you questioned after a moment, words biting into the air. “What do you want, Spencer?”

He sighed, dragging his hands down his face. “I want you.” The words were almost silent. “But I want her, too.”

You nodded, a tear falling down your cheek. With that, he turned and walked out of your front door. You slid down the cabinets, a sob escaping your lips. You told yourself when this started that no matter what you’d love him. Even if he didn’t choose you, even if he wrecked you, you’d never fault him for it.

By the time you had collected yourself off of the floor, Spencer was already getting dressed in the back room of the church. He stuck his hands in his pants pocket, fishing for the note you wrote him two and a half years ago, a mere months before he met Natalie. He unfolded it, reading the words as his eyes stung with fresh tears. You wrote it when he had gotten out of jail, a reminder for him to know that he always had someone on his side, even if no one else was.

Even if the cops come calling, I’ll never talk. I love you.

Maybe, he thought, he loved you too. Derek knocked on the door to the room, stepping in and looking at Spencer. He smiled sympathetically at his friend, eyes drifting to the note held in Spencer’s fingers.

“Ten minutes.”

Spencer nodded, reading the words scribbled on the paper one last time before folding it back into his pocket and wiping at his cheeks.

Maybe he loved you too. But he knew he also loved her just as much.

#im sad now #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #mgg #matthew gray gubler #dr reid #angst #fic #criminal minds fic #mgg fic #spencer fic

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bangtansbun · 4 years

Text

Mr. Rochester || Same Badass Me

Pairing: college student!seokjin x college student!reader

Genre: smut, teeny bit of fluff

Word count: 935

Warnings: grinding, unprotected sex (you know the rules), praise kink, fingering (f.receiving), dirty talk, cursing, slight dom!seokjin, quickie, that’s it I think

a/n: sorry this is a day late, I was really busy yesterday even though it was my day off. This is also minimally proof read because I just want to get it up for you guys, so I’m sorry about that. Hopefully you enjoy it regardless

After a few minutes of screaming, happy jumping, and hugging each other, you and Bora got ready for the NYE party. You both agreed to Jin and Taehyung that they could stay to set everything up for the party and that you two would arrive together. You had to admit, you both looked pretty hot in your New Year’s Eve outfits. You were wearing something a little more daring than you usually would, but you felt good in it and you just wanted to keep Jin on his toes.

The two of you arrive at the boy’s apartment to loud bass coming from inside and people already trying to shove their way into the apartment. When Taehyung threw parties he really threw them. You both quickly find your men and part ways to go say hi to them. “Wow, you look so good, baby,” he said beaming down at you in the dark room. His hands were low on your waist and you had your arms around his neck as you got on your tip toes to kiss him. You could feel the beat of the music running through you as the two of you kissed deeply.

Once you had broken away you grabbed his hand to lead him to where everyone was dancing. You quickly glance around to make sure Bora is okay and you spot her leaning against a wall talking to Taehyung. Content knowing that your best friend is doing fine, you begin to lose yourself in the music playing and dancing with your boyfriend. Your back to his chest and your hips swaying to the beat. Jin has his face down in the crook of your neck as you both move together, planting kisses along it. “Let me take you to my room, please,” he says in your ear. “But we just started dancing!” you fake whine to him. “Please, I don’t know how much longer I can wait with you looking like this and grinding on me the way you are,” you’re facing him now as he says those words. You nod, smiling shyly up at him and he leads you up the stairs to his room.

Once you’re there he picks you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around him. You can already feel him hardening beneath you. He drops you on the bed gently and begins taking off his clothes. You hurry to remove yours as well considering this is happening in the middle of a huge party. Before you even think about what to do next, Jin is moving you so your legs are hanging off the edge of the bed, he has one in each hand. He begins kissing up one of your legs as his hand trails it’s way up your other. A low moan escapes your lips as he gets closer to the apex of your thighs. “I’ve wanted to do this again ever since the first time. You’re so pretty and you feel so good, babygirl,” his words have your body humming. He plants a kiss on your clit and then swipes his fingers through your folds before pushing them inside of you. You moan at the feeling of him pushing his fingers in and out of you slowly, wanting to be filled up so bad. “Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, have you missed this too? Do you want me to fill you up with my cock, baby?” he asks looking down at you, his fingers still moving in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. You nod at him, “use your words, babe,” his eyes darkening with lust. “Yes, p-please. I want to feel you inside of me, please, Jin,” you whimper.

At this he removes his fingers and puts them into his own mouth, “damn, you taste so good.” A gasp leaving you when he suddenly pushes his dick into your dripping core. His hands are gripping your hips to keep your lower body steady, as it’s still hanging off the bed. He begins thrusting in and out of you at a reckless pace. “F-fuckkk, Jin. Please don’t stop,” you plead. “God, baby, you feel so good around me and you take me so well,” again, his praises have you feeling like you could burst any second. “Please, I’m- I’m gonna come,” you squeeze your eyes shut as you feel the orgasm about to wash over you. “Look at me y/n, I want you to look at me when you come, you’re so pretty when you come all over my dick,” with this he moves to rub your clit in quick circles. Almost instantly, your orgasm wracks through your body, but you kept your eyes on Jin the whole time, as he continues to fuck you through your high, never letting up his pace. “Shit, y/n,” you feel his thrusts stutter briefly before ropes of his cum start to fill you up. The feeling of his cum being released inside of you, just as euphoric as the first time.

He finally pulls out, panting heavily, as he makes his way to the bathroom to get stuff so you can both clean up. He’s delicate with you and helps you clean the mess before pulling your clothes back on to head downstairs. He pulls you in for a kiss before leaving his bedroom, “you’re incredible, you know that?” You blush immediately and hide your face in his chest as you hug him. With that, you both make your way to join the party again. Perfect timing as there’s only about 15 minutes until the clock strikes 12.

previous ~ next

taglist: @seokjinnieismine @jinjccns

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potaetaezz · 5 years

Text

|| Sweet Like Coffee || 10

prev << >> next

pairing: Nct Dream x Reader [female]

genre/au: fluff | teeny bit of angst (to come) | enemies to lovers | Everyone is just a clueless bunch of weirdos, you get the drill… or so you thought.

warnings: slight swearing, immature content, underage drinking

A/N: its’s my first fanfic so no judgment lol | Jaemin is getting friskyyy | Longer Chp | here we go~

_____________________________________

You did end up regretting it. But not what you expected.

Your lips didn’t meet Jaemin’s, and a part of you was grateful. Something happened to you when you were with him, it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist. You could say anything to him, do anything with him, and there would be no consequences, no regrets. That of course, wasn’t true. The minute you left you regretted your explanation, your candidness of your emotions, your feelings that won you over. You regretted the ‘I care’. You did care, something inside of you was making that very clear. But you didn’t want to. You couldn’t even distinguish how you cared, or in what way.

There was a darkness, a greyness that inked his eyes, that told you to fall for him. There was a loss of control around him. You hated that. But most of all, you hated his ‘type’. His arrogance, his ego, his cockiness. Everyone always wants the ‘bad boy’, but not you. You craved someone who was good for you, someone who treated you right. Someone like Jeno. But Jaemin was confusing your thoughts, haunting your dreams. And you knew, that if you kissed him, those hazy shadowed dreams would come true. Sadly.

What you needed most right now, what you needed most whenever your emotions became too intimate, was space. You decided to take a step back from Jaemin that day. To take a step back from his bad influence, his dark, bitter eyes, his warmth. You didn’t like when your emotions became too inflamed, overly tenacious. For when your heart was aflame, it was all too easy to be swayed, by emotion, by luring eyes. You needed control, for if your feelings took over your power, took over your actions, you could make some very impulsive, unbearably regrettable decisions.

[7:09am]

You woke up to someone gently singing. A soft but hoarse voice. Lila.

‘How many people have the keys to my apartment??’

“Oh good your awake! Look Haechan’s party, we need-“

“Woah, Lila calm your shit okay, is that even today??”

Haechan’s parties were said to be unreal, and even that was an understatement. Crowds of people flowing in from anywhere to meet people, make bad decisions and have fun. No one knew anyone there, or barely anyone, and that’s what was so compelling. Haechan was basically a modern Gatsby in party terms. Of course, it would be amazing to let loose, have a drink, dance a bit. But you weren’t as sociable as Lila, and you couldn’t drink as much as Renjun.

Renjun used to be like you, a little bit shy yet speckled with gregarious traits. But he befriended Haechan last year, and since then he could chug a naggin of vodka like it was water. And as for Lila, put her in the middle of any social gathering and she’d shine. You just- you didn’t know where you’d fit in - at the party.

“Yes, yes it is. Sooo what are you wearing?”

“Wearing? If I’m going uhm jeans—”

She interrupted before you could finish, with a half-suppressed laugh emerging. “Oh no honey, it’s a Halloween party.”

Leave it to Haechan to throw a Halloween party 2 weeks early.

“I’ll see.” You spit out, eyes smiling as Lila’s beamed.

———

Sitting down, staring at the empty whiteboard, you could feel something on you. A stare. Someone’s eyes mesmerising your figure, capturing you intently. Your back burned from the glare. You turned around. Fast. In hopes of catching the culprit with smoldering eyes.

Haechan. What a surprise. He always knew how to catch one's attention.

He quirked his eyebrows and passed a note to you. Once you gripped it, you could tell Jeno was curious beside you. Peering intently into its contents.

‘You better come to the party. This is a personal invitation y/n.’

‘What a Gatsby move.’

You crumbled the note in one hand and shoved it into your bag, making sure both of them watched. He wasn’t going to influence your decision. If you were going, it would be for Lila, or for yourself. Not for some guy.

Your eyes gazed up to Jeno instinctively. He was focusing intently on the work on the board. ‘There has to be something beyond his smile’ you thought, ‘Eyes full of lust, some tantalising charm behind that innocence.’ Your blood warmed at the thought.

“So are you going?” his voice brought you back to reality.

You assumed he was on about Haechan’s party. “I don’t know” You chuckled lightly.

“You should.” His smile almost persuaded you, right there and then.

There was an attraction in his gaze, and you knew hoped he felt it too. You were falling deeper into the wrath of his smile, and you liked it. You wished nothing more than to reach over and fuse your smile with his. Nothing more than to simply talk with him, read with him, stay with him. Your feelings grew deeper and you hadn’t even noticed. Spending time with Jaemin really did confuse you. Little were you aware of how deep your feelings ran, in your veins, in your pulse. Little did you know how your tensions drowned away with the smile on his face. You weren’t an affectionate, sappy person, and you definitely weren’t good at expressing or understanding your emotions. Oh but only if you were. Haechan’s party would’ve gone a lot differently.

———

Arriving home, you noticed Ten was already there. Sitting right in front of the television, remote control in his hand.

“How was school?” He asked, trying to act brotherly.

“Do you care?” you laughed.

“Not really.” and he smiled brightly. “You going to Haechan’s party?”

You shook your head. As much as you like socializing, reading a book snuggled up with chamomile tea in your hand definitely beat it. During your final class, you had reached the conclusion that you were not going. You didn’t see the point, and at home, you could catch up on many missed episodes of your new binge tv show. ‘They’ll be fine without me’.

lunalila560 : comin to Haechan’s?? [5:53]

imaginey/n :nahhh, too tired [5:55]

——

[6:16]

A knock came from the door and in stepped Lila. She brought with her a huge blue gear bag filled with her most stylish clothes and makeup, because your most stylish clothes were probably your Christmas pajamas. She wore a short pink dress, with a black cropped denim jacket resting delicately on her shoulders. Black heels embraced her slender feet. Her hair was tied in two loose braids, with white glitter sprinkled casually over. Her makeup was classic with a dash of extra glitter to contrast. She was beautiful as always, and you were still in your pajamas, stuffing your face with popcorn as if watching a fashion show.

“Okay so…” she began. She held out a clothes hanger, your new Halloween costume hanging from it. “You’re coming, I don’t care what you say.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest. Lila had clearly put effort into your costume, knowing fully well you would’ve actually worn jeans. She was always so organised like that.

“So what am I?” You sat on the edge of the couch, leaning into her beaming eyes, curious of her plans.

“Lara Croft.”

You nearly choked on air as your eyes filled with uncertainty. Ten chimed in with appreciation. You shook your head but she argued; “Just trust me.”

Lila knew you so well, too well in fact. The outfit was unarguably perfect for you. Not too revealing, comfortable, something you could dance in. She wanted you to wear shorts, but knowing you, she chose green cargo pants with a slit around the thigh instead.

She plaited your hair, pulling out the messy bits at the front. Made your makeup look effortlessly casual. Smeared brown paint like ‘dirt’ on your body and grey tank top. Tied a bandage around the slit in your pants as if you were injured. And of course, who could forget a (toy) gun in your hand. You couldn’t deny you actually liked it.

———

Lila walked beside you up Haechan’s driveway, wearing her version of ‘Jessica Rabbit’. Your breath trembled. You could already hear the music. There were a few people outside. You were late, by approximately 2 hours, which meant the party already started. You gulped. Butterflies dancing in your stomach. No. Wasps, stinging.

By the time you had reached the porch, it was too late. Lila’s arm linked in yours preventing your escape. The sweat clammed your palms, and your armpits, which you prayed the dirt could hide the stains. Before Lila grabbed the doorknob, her eyes met yours. Telling you that it was going to be okay, that it was safe, that you should breathe. Little did she know the reason for your racing heart. But before you could blink, she pulled the door open, music shrieking in your ears.

The party was loud, real loud.

The house was beautifully designed, but there were way too many people to appreciate it. The place was crowded, people everywhere, streaming from the top of the stairs, out of the innumerable rooms up there, and people headed straight into the kitchen downstairs, or what you assumed was the kitchen. The lighting was dim, you could barely make out Lila’s face beside you. People were hanging over banisters, screaming, chanting. Music blaring, deafening your ears. And everyone was clearly very, very drunk.

Lila’s shout met your ear, yet you barely heard her; “Kitchen….drink?”

It didn’t matter for her hand tugged yours into a room, the kitchen. You bumped into everyone, dancing, laughing. You focused your eyes on the floor. You weren’t ready to recognise people yet. You needed alcohol for that. And lucky for you, you were nearly there.

You looked up when Lila came to a halt.

‘Holy shit.’

There wasn’t enough counter to hold all the bottles. From vodka to whiskey, it had everything. You didn’t know where to start. Lila did, however, as she shoved a cup filled with something in your hand. Before you knew it, you too were laughing. You were very nearly drunk on the atmosphere, on the music. You took a gulp of the vile concoction before you felt the heavyweight of a stare settling on you. That familiar glare. You quickly forgot about it as Lila refilled your drink. If anything was going to make this night easier, it was alcohol.

“You came!”

Renjun screamed beside you. He had a rather large glass in his hand.

“Ms.Croft.” He added, “enchante.”

A laugh escaped your mouth easily, “And what may you be?”

“Ayy matey, tis’ I, Jack Sparrow.” He completely failed the accent, but A for effort.

“How fitting.” you quirked your eyebrows, “a pirate always does have a drink in his hand.”

He bowed, his pirate hat falling off. Then, nearly collapsing on the floor with laughter. You couldn’t help but laugh with him.

Your eyes wandered to Lila who was already talking up a ‘Joker’.

The alcohol buzzed in your veins, your body warming up to its comfort. You followed Renjun to another lively room. He began chatting aimlessly with people, and you stood beside him. Your body swayed to the music, feeling looser than it did an hour ago. You were lost in conversation when a finger tapped your back. You turned to see Haechan, standing a touch too close.

“Pleasure to see you here.” His voice engulfed in lure.

“Pleasure to be here.” Words slipped easily.

“Nice gun.” He sniggered, eyes judging it but the smile on his face loving it. You held it out, pointing it at him. You pressed the trigger, releasing a pathetic squirt of water. His hands were up before you could attempt a wink.

He was dressed in a suit, a very Gatsy suit.

He held out a drink, one that smelled sweet accompanied by a strawberry floating on top. He winked, properly, as your hand grasped it. A wink followed by that carefree laugh. You spent some time with Haechan, talking about things you couldn’t remember, drinking things you couldn’t distinguish and dancing, as awfully as you’d imagined. The alcohol began to race, rush through you, bubbling, fizzing. You lost track of time, of faces, of songs.

“Have you seen Jeno?” you asked.

“Oh, lover boy? Nope.” he laughed

Your heart sagged just slightly. You reminded yourself that these parties last all night.

‘I’ll see him later.’

Yet again, you felt a set of eyes find you within the growing crowd. It wasn’t Haechan, you soon realised for you were with him, dancing. You scanned the room, but there was no one you recognised.

Until there he was, walking sauntering down the stairs, holding your gaze. His eyes wandered from yours to your ripped tank top, down to your boots. Taking in all of you. His stare full of deceit and depth, but none the less intoxicating. He stopped in front of you, looking down at you, into you. His teeth taunted his lip, bit his lip. A smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Haechan disappeared, everyone disappeared, as if it was only you and him in the room.

You pulled out your gun, a smile taking over your mouth. “Hands up, Jaemin.”

He did as he was told, hands following your order.

“And don’t you dare bite that lip.” You added, confidently.

You traced his outline. His body embraced by a black suit. A white shirt peeking out behind his blazer. A black bowtie drawing your eyes to his neck, and then back up to his gaze. While you were admiring his suit, he pulled his own gun out to point at you.

“Fair play.” he chuckled.

“What even are you?”

“You see, Ms.Croft” he began with that deep voice of his, “I was going to be your prince charming, but now, I’m your savior. It’s Jaemin, Na Jaemin.”

You couldn’t hold back a giggle as he winked. He surely was charming, but he was definitely no prince.

You forgot a lot, but the alcohol wasn’t going to let you forget how close you had been before. How close you had been to his bitten lip or his deceitful stare.

“Care for a drink?” he asked.

“Of course.” but this time it was you who winked.

It was when the drink met your lips that his head turned to the corner of the room. Yours followed. It was dark, you were borderline drunk, but you could always spot Jeno in a crowd.

You dropped your drink. Your breath hitched.

Jeno wasn’t smiling at you, he didn’t even notice you. He was too busy sticking his tongue down some girls throat. His hands roaming her body, his mouth desperate, his teeth tugging at her lip. He was on fire yet your eyes watched, like ice.

You knew there was a part of him that was aflame, seduction lurking inside of him, he just didn’t want to show you. Disappointment tugged at your heart. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. You were frozen. You didn’t feel jealous or hurt (maybe a little bit). You felt pathetic, stupid for letting yourself believe that even the tiniest part of him was interested in you. Stupid for beginning to like him.

His mouth tore away from her, taking in oxygen when his eyes found you. Found you staring right back at him, at the girl, at their intensity. You almost saw a dim speck of regret in his eyes, but it was too dark to be true.

You panicked, his eyes still watching you. You looked to the ground, and then to Jaemin. His expression changed, from understanding to pure desire. You inched closer, making sure Jeno’s eyes were locked on you. You closed the gap between your beating heart and Jaemin’s. He looked into your eyes as if he was searching for something. Temptation speckled his iris. His hot breath meeting your cheek. Control disappearing from your grip.

Slowly, the music faded and so did the crowd, so did Jeno. It felt like it was just you two in the room, alone, a fraction away from each other. Your heart raced, breath shaky. His mouth searched for your ear, his voice ragged; “You’ll regret this.”

You opened your mouth to speak when his lips crashed against yours. You pulled away for an instant to see lust overtaking his gaze. Then he devoured you, lips moving in rhythm. Body melting into his. You could taste the desperation in his mouth, feel the want on his tongue as it plunged down your throat. His breathy sounds taunted your ear. His hands worked their way around your body, feeling each crevasse, each line until they settled a bit lower than your waist. Pulling you impossibly closer. His teeth teased your lips. Your mouth felt bruised but you couldn’t let go.

His kiss was intoxicating. His passion ignited something in you. You couldn’t hold back a slight moan as his lips moved to your neck. Your fingers intertwined with his hair, pulling it. Want racing through your veins. His tongue demanding more of you, until you broke away, gasping for air. For a moment you tasted the alcohol on his breath, and it brought you back to reality.

His smirk settled on you again.

His mouth dived for your ear once more, nibbling slightly before his hoarse voice spoke.

“He’s still watching.”

_____________________________________

See you next time -> Wednesday 23rd xx

_____________________________________

57 notes · View notes

zukofenty · 4 years

Text

Day 4: bad decisions

➜ The one where Katara (might) be in love with the campus drug dealer.

“So why won’t you go out with me? Is it because I’m a drug dealer?” Zuko’s mad, twisting the rings on his fingers while impatiently waiting on her answer.

“Not exactly,” Katara quips, averting her eyes from his fiery gaze. “It’s mainly because you don’t tip when we go out to eat.”

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, humor, teeny bit of angst, DrugDealer!Zuko

➜ Words: 5.3k

➜ Warnings: I love DrugDealer!Zuko more than I love myself 😩

AO3, Zutara Month Playlist, @zutaramonth hi i love u!

➜ Notes: hehe listen to “Bad Decisions” by Miss Ari! life changing!

“Zuko’s dead? ” Katara nearly screams into the phone. She pulls on one of his hoodies and is scrambling to find her slides and keys.

Toph sighs. “We all knew this would happen. The sky’s blue, Beyonce needs to stop forcing her boyfriend on us. Basic facts. Get it together , Katara.”

“Toph, how does your disdain for Jay-Z make it into every conversation you have?” Suki wearily states. “All we know is that a dealer got shot near the frats today. So in conclusion, Zuko’s dead.”

“Donezo.”

“Bitch is gone .”

“God bless his beautiful ass.”

“A moment of silence for his fake Chanel blouses.”

Katara does her breathing exercises. “ Enough .” She hears a knock at the door, and immediately grabs her expandable baton. “Oh my god , someone’s at the door.” She whips out the baton to its full length.

Toph gasps. “Bitch, it’s 2 in the fucking morning. Are we getting a two for one deal tonight?”

Suki cheers. “I call dibs on her Fenty highlighters.”

“Oh hell fucking no ! You do not have the range for Trophy Wife, whore!” Toph shouts right into the microphone. Katara winces, and takes out an Airpod. She’s heaving, nervous at who could be at the door. Toph and Suki were trying to negotiate with each other on who was getting Katara’s brand new Hydrating Foundation when she takes an experimental glance out the peephole. Her gasp reverberates through the phone.

“She’s died, Suki! She’s died!” Toph wails, her screams nearly unintelligible.

“ Zuko? ” Katara screeches at the top of her lungs, launching herself at him so violently her other Airpod pops out.

He chuckles when she locks her legs around his waist, his arms coming out to support her from underneath her ass. It’s domestic, and he relishes in the attention. “Hello to you, too.” She’s smiling at him and it’s beautiful and soft and everything he wanted to see after the shitty night he’s had. Dealing in college was an easy route to Balenciaga and bitches. Everyone did it, it was as easy as catching HPV at your school. Yet, Zhao, the Kingpin of dealers, just had to get his side-chick pregnant and then just had to get shot by his girlfriend. Even if he did get shot up because he was a slut (#FreeZhao), the campus dean had called the cops and was in the process of launching an extensive campaign to fuck up any current dealers. Even if you possess the slightest hint of addy for your ADHD, you still had to haul your ass to the campus police station. It wasn’t fair though. Coke is what makes college campuses around the world run as smoothly as they do.

“You promised me you’d stop,” she’s murmuring in his ear, curled up beside him in her cramped twin bed. Her roommates went back home for the weekend, so it makes it just that much easier to pretend you two could be like this. Lost in the sheets, hopelessly in love with her head on his chest.

“If I didn’t, I probably wouldn’t have been able to get you this,” Zuko whispers in her hair. He slides a ring on her finger and she smiles lazily back at him, placing a tender kiss on his cheek. God, is this what love feels like? If she accidentally got pregnant with Zuko’s spawn she wouldn’t immediately reach for Plan B? The ring was a simple thing, just plain silver because she wanted one to be “edgy,” obsessed with rings after playing with the handful that adorn Zuko’s fingers. After making sure she was sound asleep, he lets himself smile. Finally , he’s getting somewhere with her.

Seemingly a too perfect, impenetrable forest, he’s finding himself finally being let into her world. As corny and lovesick it sounded, Zuko understood how easy it was to love someone when he laid eyes on you. All those damn John Green books were right, he begrudgingly admits ( Eat shit John Green.) She truly could not do one wrong thing in his eyes, her soft giggles as she attempted to explain commas and semicolons and gerunds or whatever the fuck he doesn’t quite remember because he was busy being infatuated and trying to make her laugh. They’d met freshman year, and have remained in this weird limbo ever since. Where he would call her to remind her to eat when she was stressed, and he could plant kisses in her hair when he’s showing up to her apartment at night, cuddling her without her pulling away because it always felt right. At the same time, Katara felt so unattainable, so out of reach. It’s never progressed past simple, flirtatious touches. Yet, being with her feels different than any other relationship he’s been in, as though his heart was permanently and solely hers.

It was easy to fall in love. Katara was so kind, yet so dead set in her ways. Never detracting her focus from school, she had no time for anything else in her life. Her older brother Sokka had raised her when their parents had disappeared shortly after producing the “accident” child. They handed Katara off to him, who hadn’t spoken to them in years. While Sokka was in college and attempting to care for Katara at the same time, he had struck gold with recording labels interested in his music producing work. Soon, he was making songs you could regularly hear on the radio and not just on Soundcloud, and the royalties were ensuring Katara got the best. The best schools, clothes, life. Even if her brother was obsessed with flexing his regular Bugatti purchases on Instagram, she wasn’t nearly as preoccupied. She was always in oversized hoodies that once upon a time ago belonged to Sokka before he decided on dressing like a 30 year old hypebeast Instagrammer still trying to hold onto their youth. Always volunteering her time and doing things rich people had time to do to make themselves feel good about their tax breaks.

It made Zuko feel jealous in a sense, with his uncle struggling to make ends meet his whole life. He ran a small fried chicken and tea shop (Iroh was convinced about this combo) in his neighborhood, and he hated to admit that he was ashamed. That he dreamed of shoving Chanel anything up his ass. He would take the perfume sample cards from the mall that said Givenchy , pinning it to his wall as inspiration for what he would buy in the future. It didn’t make sense to him, when Katara had all this money and couldn’t care less. She penny pinched when she didn’t need to, wore clothes from Forever 21, as though Sokka wouldn’t drop thousands for the Fendi boots she always talked about.

“Damnit, you’re dick sick, aren’t you?” Toph sends her a look that screamed pity. Katara tried to fix the frown, but her eyes always revealed everything. So she nods in agreement, and Toph wraps her up in her arms. Zuko had invited her and Toph to a quote unquote “exclusive party” thrown by the rich kids whose parents owned the university. The Olivia Jades of the world. Schmoney shmoney . It didn’t help that she felt so out of place, circling all throughout the frat house before settling on the cleanest couch near the one window that wasn’t broken. She wanted to be a part of Zuko’s world for a night, see where he was disappearing to on the weekends.

Although Toph spent the better part of the evening prepping her hoe fit, Katara stuck to an uneventful long t shirt (Zuko’s shirt, of course) paired with thigh high boots. She had planned on only staying half an hour, tops. She didn’t drink, smoke, it just wasn’t her thing. Her worst fear was contracting herpes from a wax pen. Even when she was a college freshman and people were busy coming back upchucking all over the communal dorm bathroom, she instead dutifully held hair back, and changed drunk girls’ clothes. She quickly learned the tricks of the trade after cleaning up Sokka’s messy weekend self during his quarter life crisis phase. Admittedly, she was boring . So, she reasoned 30 minutes gave her enough time to walk around the place and see Zuko schmoozing with rich kids, and then leave to have enough time to do her skincare before bed.

“More like sick. He deals coke now! Coke! That’s a prison drug, ma’am. The real deal,” she whimpers into her tits. She had caught Zuko in one of the trust fund babies’ enormous rooms in the frat house, daddy’s credit cards and student IDs out and about with lines of something she’d only seen in movies. Since all the dealers were on the low with the campus crackdown, and since it was midterms season, the demand amongst the student population was unbelievably high. Zuko was the only brave stupid enough to keep selling. Katara had burst into the room to alert Zuko that Toph and her were about to make a dramatic exit without him to go back to her place and watch John Tucker Must Die instead of studying.

She had expected a lot of things, hell even coke (maybe). What she didn’t anticipate was seeing a girl in Zuko’s lap, kissing up his neck, wearing practically nothing. He had an assertive hand on her thigh, massaging it, manhandling her like Katara wished he would do with her. He’s talking and acting like he belonged with the assholes of your school. Like he wasn’t the gentle guy who Katara always saw in sweats always talking about his half sister, or memories of his uncle’s restaurant. She had made eye contact with him and promptly shut the door, feeling as though her heart would burst any second now.

So Toph and Katara go back to her place, calling up Suki who Ubers over, ready to rag on her (sort of) mans. Both Toph and her were in Suki’s t shirts that she “gave” to the duo. Both girls ignore her protests when she shows up and demands for them back. “Hey, that is premium Aliexpress Yeezus Tour shirts! They don’t sell fakes like these anymore!”

Katara was eating Target generic brand ice cream out the container, her heartbreak palpable, especially to Toph. The two girls were best friends after becoming roommates freshman year. Katara’s a sweet thing, too sweet in Toph’s opinion. Always remembering little things, people’s birthdays or favorite brand of instant Udon packages. She was always the one defending Toph against those who found it too easy to take advantage of her. Toph, in turn, was always there to mend her big heart after no one remembered her birthday freshman year. In many ways, Katara won a permanent place in Toph’s heart. She was always the one showing up to her dance performances, even if they were a two hour bus ride away. Always making sure to take off her makeup after recitals when she was too tired to move. It hurt her to see Katara like this, in pain.

“All I’m saying is that he uses you to play house. It’s time to cut the cord. Don’t be Beyonce, don’t keep letting a man bring down your worth. Plus, you don’t have the range to come out with Lemonade in the middle of all this heartbreak and betrayal.”

She scoops Vanilla bean into her mouth, eyes downcast. “What do you mean? Just because he comes here and sleeps over all the time?” She settles her head in Toph’s lap when she sees Suki begin to straighten her back, prepping for the rant she was about to deliver.

“Katara, sweet, pure, virginal Katara.”

“Hey!” Katara yelps.

“I’m going to be honest with you, and it’s going to hurt. Like pap smear at the gyno hurt.” Katara nods, interest piqued. “Do you see you on his Instagram? Do you? Any posts, any tagging done when I know you took this photo of this overpriced matcha soy latte?” Suki tries her hardest not to break her tough girl role when she sees hersad fucking eyes. Why are they built like that? Like she could break her heart with just a watery glance? “Tell me, who do you see on Zuko’s Instagram and Snapchat?”

“Hotgirls,” she jumbles the words in her haste.

“Louder!” Suki shouts.

“ Hot. Girls. ” she admitted defeat. Toph strokes her hair gently to try to comfort her.

“That’s the thing with guys like Zuko, ok? They want the hottest girls on campus to suck and fuck, but they’re even more cruel with girls like you. Girls who are meant for dating to marry and cute gender reveal parties and pastels and shit. He knows that you guys aren’t meant to be together, the universe says so. But he’ll still play with your feelings because he likes pretending he deserves you. Pretending that in this world, girls like you and guys like him can be together and make it work.”

Katara’s jolting her head out of Toph’s lap in protest. “Well, what if I want to be a slut? What if I want to be the kind of girl that Zuko wants?” She was tired of being the cute girl who looks like she goes to volunteer at the community center regularly and is destined for some picket fence with a balding, accountant husband and loud, undisciplined kids. She wanted sex, hell she wanted to wear skimpy clothes without worrying what Zuko was going to think about how her tits looked, or if her pants showed enough of her ass to be considered hoe. Katara wanted the confidence of those girls Zuko would put on his social media, she wanted to be them. Being with Zuko felt like being with someone who got her, and she liked, hell loved the attention he gave her. As though she felt pretty, and not adorable. He was someone she just couldn’t get out of her head, someone that was so dangerous to her because she was feeling herself change for him. Is it wrong that she liked it? The way he called her gorgeous when he comes over, or how he lazily grinds against her ass when he’s half-asleep, hands on her hips grounding her.

Suki squeezes her chipmunk cheeks between her musty hands, and interrupts Katara’s protest about an acne breakout. “Even if you try changing everything about you to become exactly what he wants, do you really think he’s going to treat you the same when it isn’t on the down low?”

Ouch.

Suki’s honesty still stings, but it was the cold hard truth. She was willing to change herself, be someone for a guy promising her trips to Paris when he could never meet when the sun was up. Suki’s words hurt as bad as the dress Toph was squeezing you into. “You wanted slutty, I’m giving you waist trainer, Insta model slutty!” She had convinced Katara to go on a date with some guy who was “perfect” for her. Code for boring, she was sure of it. Probably an engineering major who didn’t know how Twitter worked.

Even with all of Toph’s efforts, Katara decided all the shapewear in the world wasn’t going to contain her “post depression ice cream for all three meals” belly. So, she decided to keep it simple with her “knock-off Ariana” outfit as she calls it. Pairing just a pair of thigh high boots with a long sweatshirt.

“Look, I know you secretly get off to the thrill of dating a lame drug dealer, knowing the cops could bust down your door and cause a scene at your apartment. I know you live for the drama. But I promise, this guy will be good for you. Let’s just have fun for one night. Please put the dress back on? I know you haven’t washed that hoodie in a week,” Toph pleads with Katara.

She just rolled her eyes while Toph reapplied a layer of gloss to Katara’s lips. Deep down, she just knew in her heart there was no getting over Zuko. At least immediately. But, it didn’t hurt that Jet was cute, harmless fun. He was taking her out to a diner near her apartment, frequented by students at their college deluded by the aesthetic photo ops, and not too concerned about how the restaurant was serving up microwaved Mac n cheese. He showed up looking exactly like his Instagram photos and in a well ironed H&M button up. She could feel Toph hiding behind her futon, snapping clandestine photos for Suki, who was in the bathroom with the Taco Bell shits.

“ How dare you?! ” Jet screeches, dropping a cold fry in disbelief. “You’ve never watched anime?”

“Ok, a scream was not what I was expecting. I just asked if Teen Titans counted. Sue me.” Katara’s laughing, and hates to admit that it was fun being with Jet. He’s nerdy and sweet and most importantly so, so tall. A good guy.

“It doesn’t! ” he huffs petulantly.

Katara juts out her lip. “How can you ever forgive me?”

“Hmm. I guess a second date. Maybe an anime sesh will have to do. Your place, and we’re pulling an all nighter.”

“Why not your place?” she questions.

“I live in a living room, and I don’t have a mattress. But why not? My place it is!” His aggressive thumbs up makes her laugh so hard it sends her into a choking fit.

“So, we’re watching Teen Titans first, right?” she teases, pounding at her chest to stop the coughs.

His smile reaches his eyes. “You know, I was kinda scared going out with you tonight. No offense, but you have, like, no pictures on your social media. All Toph promised me was ‘you’re really pretty and heartbroken as well. ’ And, not to try to win any brownie points on this date, but I have to agree, you’re really pretty.” Katara rolls her eyes, and he blushes.

“I was expecting something along the lines of ‘ Goddess like,’ but I guess ‘really pretty’ works, too.” She’s laughing along with his obnoxious giggles, and she feels almost lighthearted. Not quite ready to fall in love again, but considering the possibility. “Let me guess, she cheated on you?”

“Worse. Walked in on her with...drumroll please!” Katara lightly began drumming her fingers on the dining table. “You guessed it! My brother!” he sheepishly admits, bringing out the jazz hands and everything to emphasize his point.

She audibly gasps. “That’s some Kdrama shit right there! Please tell me you started a fist fight with him, kicked a nut or two.”

“Nah, I had an essay due. No time for that shit, you know? I just shut the door, banged out my paper, and haven’t spoken to either of them in about four months.”

She takes a sip of her milkshake. “That’s healthy!” Jet tilts his shake in Katara’s direction in agreement, before taking a long gulp from the cup.

He quirks a perfectly shaped brow towards her. “So, let me guess. Your guy saved his side chick’s name as Chick-fil-a in his phone, you found out and tried to strangle him with his belt, and he pressed charges?”

“Oddly specific, but sadly no. Let’s just say he had the biggest heart. Big enough for bitches on the side as well.” Jet makes a grunt in disapproval. “It wasn’t like I could be mad, anyways. We weren’t in anything official. But it felt like it could’ve been something, you know?”

It was like an unspoken agreement, an energy that the two felt when they met each other. A “my heart was just shattered into a billion pieces but hopefully a rebound will lessen the pain just for two hours tonight” kind of vibe. It felt good with Jet, like the two of you guys had known each other forever. He serves her with corny joke after joke, and she lets herself laugh. She hated being around men, and besides, Sokka threatened any that even made eye contact with her for longer than 20 seconds. Aside from Sokka, Zuko, and Aang, the kid she babysat, Katara was afraid to let any other men in her life. Three was already enough emotional labor.

They both go out for boba afterwards, and Jet makes sure to pay for their drinksand then drop his change into the tip jar. He knows that Katara swoons immediately. It always works. That’s why 30 minutes later, she’s slamming him into her futon. Soon after, he’s shirtless, pressing at her core with impatient fingers. She’s grinding helplessly in his lap, his moans egging her on. He insisted she keep the boots on.

“I was not raised to leave my shoes on in the house. That’s just vile ,” she protested. Jet silences her with a gentle kiss, and a press of his throbbing cock against her.

“Please, baby. Make an exception for me tonight,” he whispers against her lips. Her shorts and underwear are suddenly missing. When the fuck did he do that? She’s dizzy and horny and so full when he starts fingering her. His fingers so fucking long and is making her whimper and ready to have his kids. She closes her eyes because staring at Jet’s fucked out ones made her want to combust. She was focusing on the feeling of being stuffed while trying to tamp down on the fear of losing her virginity, because that seemed like the logical course of action with how the night was playing out. Damnit, what if it hurts like a pap smear ? She thinks pathetically. In the middle of all her inner monologues, she’s suddenly shoved off of Jet’s warm body, tumbling on the ground. She opens her eyes to see Zuko pummeling Jet to a pulp.

“Not the face, Zuko! Not the fucking face! He’s too pretty for this!” Katara yelps, shoving Zuko’s muscular frame off of Jet. Jet sends her a sad smile before slipping his shirt over his head and heading out the door.

She’s fuming, too angry, too confused. “What the fuck was that ?” She’s at maximum screech levels tonight, much to her neighbor’s dismay.

“You tell me!” Zuko cards his hands through his hair. “You’re fucking some other guy? Don’t know if you’ve forgotten, Katara. But this,” he gestures between the two of them. “Did you forget about us? Forget about me? What the fuck?”

“Hold up, Walter White.” She’s sticking a hand out in his face. “We are a situationship, at best. Don’t you dare accuse me of whoring around when we aren’t even official.”

“I thought what we had, what we were...I don’t know? It’s different,” Zuko rubs at his neck awkwardly. “Did you not feel the same way? Why do you care about all these labels all of a sudden? Why didn’t you fucking tell me you wanted us to make it official?”

“It’s because you’re supposed to know! You’re supposed to know that I hate what you do, that I hate loving you, because it hurts me.”

“So why won’t you go out with me? Is it because I’m a drug dealer?” Zuko’s mad, twisting the rings on his fingers while impatiently waiting on her answer.

“Not exactly,” Katara quips, averting her eyes from his fiery gaze. “It’s mainly because you don’t tip when we go out to eat.”

“Bullshit!” he howls.

“You need to tip at least 20%!”

“Katara.” He takes a deep breath in. “Why don’t we just make this official?”

She’s worrying at her lip. Trying desperately to remember the breathing exercises her therapist had recommended before she started crying and did something crazy like suck his dick because he looked hot when he was angry. “Zuko, as much as you’d like to keep pretending that we could ever be a thing, I can’t. I can’t keep holding onto this fucking unrealistic dream. These unrealistic expectations! What do you want me to do? Pray for the day you get bored of dealing or hanging out with the rich kids or making out with sorority girls so you could come back to me at night? Because I’m fucking pathetic and let you back every single time?”

She sees him spluttering, trying to desperately hold onto a solid response that could sway her decision. “Katara, you know how much I care about you. But you would never get it! You would never get someone like me!”

She scoffs. “Try me. What don’t I get about you, Zuko?”

“That being with those people, and dealing makes me feel like more than just a poor kid with no parents and no fucking future.” Zuko huffs out the confession as though he was holding it in for a millenium.

“I get it, ok I understand but-”

Zuko steps back from her, as though she’s slapped him straight across the face. “No, Katara. You don’t. You don’t fucking get it. You get to cosplay as poor. Pretend that you have to budget when Sokka could easily handle everything if things go wrong.”

Katara’s angry, angry at herself. For hurting Zuko with her careless words, for looking so fucking stupid. “Ok, fine. You’re right.” She surprises even herself at her confession. "I don’t get it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be fucking worried about you? That I’m terrified about what could go wrong? One wrong move and you could fucking die! You think the dean is going to let any of those rich assholes take the fall for anything? No, they’re going to blame it on the disposable kid on Financial Aid,” she wails at the top of her lungs.

She searches his eyes for any understanding, for any reaction to what she was saying. His jaw is set in a determined look, the kind of look she knew was unwavering, was unable to be changed no matter what. She sucks in a breath of air, praying for any sort of strength. “How about you do you, and I do me?”

“Yeah, sure,” Zuko squeezes out. He’s rushing out the door, slamming it on his way out.

“I knew I could smell the cock on you! You rode that dick like a stolen car, didn’t you?” Suki bellows, cackling.

“Please, I will fucking block you,” Katara wearily threatens, without any might behind it. She’s, predictably, in one of Zuko’s old t shirts from when he played soccer in high school, slapping on moisturizer before she could retire to bed. “Zuko stopped anything from happening when he came in and went 'New York after Hottie said she looked like Beyonce' on his ass.

Toph grunts over the line. “So what’s the deal with you guys? He’s dealing you drugs and dick now? You’re fucking the weed man for weed? Or are you fucking the dick man for dick? At least you’re not fucking the tweet man for tweets.”

Katara pauses in patting in the cream on her face. “How does this make any sense to you? Like do you not hear yourself speak?”

“It makes perfect sense to me, slut.”

Suki jumps in before low blows could be dealt and the girls start making fun of each others foundation not matching. “You know what, I bet Zuko’s selling whole ass cilantro and/or oregano and no one says anything because he’s fine.”

Katara pauses in applying her lip balm, a call from Zuko popping up threatening to end her call with her girls. “Zuko’s calling?” she questions.

“This late?” Toph is in between bites of her pepperoni Hot Pocket.

Suki sighs. “Listen, Katara. Girls don’t win when it comes to love, we never win. Maybe you should take a break from all this Zuko mess, and I don’t know. Pick up a hobby. Go back to therapy.”

But Katara knew something was wrong. She could sense it, just feel it inside her. Something was inherently wrong. As though the universe was whispering this to her, pleading with her to listen. “I’ll call you guys back, ok?”

“This is the future Stephanie Meyer wanted. For girls to be pathetically in love with pale, emo guys,” Toph miserably whimpers after Katara leaves their call.

Katara heart felt like it could fall out of her ass and then jump back in her mouth with how loudly it was beating. She’s running, clad in only the t shirt and her slides. They were threatening to slip off at any second from how fast her feet were forcing them to pound at the pavement. Word of the wise, don’t fucking run in slides.

“Don’t fucking hurt him!” She screams, expandable baton whipped out and ready to pummel any bitch dumb enough to hurt Zuko while she’s around. A few guys were standing around Zuko’s limp body, about to lay another painful blow against his bruised visage when she starts wildly beating them with her baton. She’s shrieking at the top of her lungs, scaring them enough for all of them to disperse. They all ran off before they had to deal with whatever the fuck Katara was doing. Crazy wasn’t in their agenda that night, only beating up good looking dealers.

“Oh, Zuko.” Katara immediately lets go of the weapon, dropping down to her knees to look at him.

Turns out, everyone wants a shot at the king.

She sits herself down and gently cradles Zuko’s head in between her hands before placing it in her lap. He closes his eyes and musters the strength to give her a small smile.

“Thank you, Katara.” She’s trying her best to hold back her tears. The gravel is scraping unforgivably against her legs, the cold causing her throat to begin to itch. She’s shivering as she types in “911.”

Zuko lifts a battered arm to swat quickly at her fingers. “Can we just Uber to the hospital? I don’t want to drop two racks on an ambulance.”

“Zuko!” Katara squeals. It works, he’s got her to smile in spite of all the drama, all the tears. It’s so easy for them to be like this together. Just enjoying the moment, just being themselves. “You know, I’m sorry for ever saying you look like an angry snake. You still do, but I’m sorry.”

“I hate you,” he says without any commitment to the spite.

“You don’t.”

“I know.” He lets her finish ordering the Uber before speaking again. “I love you.”

She runs her fingers in his hair. “I know.”

“Say it back, please?” He has the audacity to pout despite being beaten nearly half to death.

“I’m scared,” she can’t bring herself to break eye contact with his intense gaze.

“I know.”

“Zuko! What happened?” Iroh’s running as fast as he can, still clad in his sleepwear. He sees the pretty girl that the nurses warned has refused to leave the boy’s side for the past few hours, never letting go of his hand. She’s even had the gall to snap the nurses who would show up to their shift a few minutes late.

He sees his nephew rub comforting circles in the girls’ hand with his thumb, looking at her before he could make eye contact with his uncle. Right when he’s about to say something, he’s interrupted.

“He was protecting me. We were walking in a bad part of town because I really wanted to get ice cream, and...we got mugged.” She finishes lamely, whispering the last few words. “They hit him first and then were trying to steal my purse. They got even more mad when he started yelling ‘don’t hurt her!’ He jumped in front of me before they could do anything.”

The two share a look and a smile. Zuko’s grip on Katara’s hand grows impossibly tigther.

#zutara #zutara fanfiction #day 4 zutara month #katara #Zuko #zuko x katara #zutaramonth #zutarafic

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babbushka · 5 years

Note

Not sure if you're still doing prompts but could you do N with Flip? maybe newly married?

Anonymous said: Please do N from the list with our fave Flip💕💖💕💖 Congrats on passing your school thing 💖💖 your writing is a treasure💞💜💝💘💖💖💗💓

Thank you both for requesting!! I hope you like what i came up with :) (and thank you for the kind words!!!)

Word count: 1600

Warnings: none!

The house was perfect – it waseverything you had ever dreamed of, from the days of you and Flip sharing histeenie tiny apartment.

He never needed much space whenhe was a bachelor; just enough for a bed and maybe a couch, somewhere to passout after a long shift at work. That all changed when he met you, and as youbecame a bigger part of his life. Slowly, the need for more space becameapparent, he all but insisting you move in with him as you two became moreserious.

He couldn’t have ever imagined hewould get to marry you, that you’d say yes to a lumberjack like him. He couldn’tbelieve he’d get to wake up to you every day, smile with you and cry with you –let alone buy a house with you.

But a house was bought, andfurniture was moved in, and the Zimmermans (damn, did he love the sound ofthat, Mr. and Mrs. Zimmerman)officially had their first place together.

He let you pick out just abouteverything, only asking he could have a spot on the wall to put a shelf to displayall his baseball trophies from when he was a kid. There was a great bigbackyard, and the bedroom was on the second story along with a little room thathe hoped one day would belong to his child. For now, it was storage – you two had only been married for just about threemonths afterall.

The house was brick all around, alovely reddish color that contrasted well with the lush greenery that surroundedthe property. The driveway was nice and big, definitely wide enough for him topark his Chevy and you to park your Pontiac. Flip wasn’t much one forarchitecture, but you were happy with the layout, and that was enough for him.

You had installed a little mezuzahand planted black-eyed-susans in the front of the house, lining the stone walkwayto the front door from the driveway. The flowers made him smile as he walkedinto the house every day from work for the past two weeks, a sunshine greeting.

He smiled now too, as he approachedthe front door reaching for his keys.

“Shit.” He grumbled, realizingthat you had the key today since you needed to run some errands – including makinga copy of the keys.

He knocked on the door, andwaited for you to come let him in.

“Who is it?” He heard your voicecall in a sing-song manner from the stairs. He felt a little leap of joy in hischest, getting to see you at the end of his day was his most treasured moment.

“The milkman.” He replied backsarcastically, a smile already on his lips.

He looked down at the black-eyed-susansand they seemed to smile with him. You decided to play with him, and onlyopened the door as wide as the little security chain would allow. He couldalready tell you looked delectable, your turtleneck tucked into a long plaidskirt. It just so happened to match the pattern on his flannel, and wondered ifit was possible to fall in love all over again.

“I didn’t know we had such a handsome milkman.” You said teasingly,eyeing him and drinking him up from the little sliver the door gave you.

“More handsome than your newlywedded husband?” Flip asked with a grin, you immediately shaking your head.

“No one is more handsome than my husband.” You said, making him getall flustered – a rare sight.

“C’mon ketsl let me in.” Hegestured to the chain on the door and you laughed.

“No entry unless you know thepassword.” You declared, making him raise his eyebrow.

“This is my house.” He said, crossinghis arms in front of his chest.

“Mmm I do believe it’s our house.” You pointed out, cheekshurting from smiling. You did have a point there, Flip thought with a shake ofhis head.

You knew it was unfair to him, having completely made up this gameright at that moment, but you decided it would be fun to make him suffer alittle longer. “Can’t you guess what it might be?”

“Let me think.” He took a stance likehe was deep in thought, finger tapping against his chin. Your eyes weresparkling with restrained laughter. “Is it…‘(Y/N) is the most beautiful person inthe whole wide world?’” He asked, making you blush.

“No, but you’re charming.” Youhummed, making Flip chuckle.

“Hmm, how about ‘I’m the luckiestman in the universe?’” He tried again, and you shook your head.

“Very close.” You encouraged him.

“I love my wife?” He asked aftera moment of thought, and you smiled shyly, blushing more beautiful than the redin your skirt.

“I dunno, do you?” You asked,looking up at him through your eyelashes, your cheeks a pretty pink.

“I do.” Flip said resolutely, andthat must have been it because you grinned and closed the door enough to takethe chain off, opening it wide for him.

Flip scooped you up in his arms,closed the door with a nudge of his foot, and carried you bridal style to thecouch.

With you all bundled up in hisarms, he began peppering kisses all over your face, making you laugh and laugh.You finally got a hold on his own cheeks, and held him still so you could kisshim properly, your tongues indulging in one another. He tucked some hair behindyour ears and traced your cheekbones as you kissed, the sun coming in throughthe brand new windows.

“Did you have a good day?” Heasked you, kissing your cheek.

“I did! It was very productive.”You nodded, winding your arms around his neck and lazily tangling a hand intohis hair. “Had the folks down at the hardware store make a copy of the key.”

“You can keep the original, I’llhold onto the copy.” He said, kissing the side of your nose.

“Okay.” You nodded, tugging onone of his ears playfully. You loved those ears, and you loved how they madehim blush. “Was work good?”

“Quiet today, thankfully.” Herelaxed against the couch, and took your hand in between two of his own. Theypractically dwarfed yours, and he admired the diamond ring on your fingerhappily. “Got to come home early to my favorite girl.”

“I better be your favorite.” Youteased, pillowing your head on his shoulder, also looking at the ring. It wasthe most beautiful diamond – simple, not too big. It was set to be pretty flushwith the gold band, and on either side of the big diamond, two smaller oneswere embedded into the gold.

“You know you are, ketsl.” Flipsaid easily, lifting your hand to kiss at the ring.

You blushed, so in love that youwere practically swooning – you hoped this feeling never went away.

“I’ve only got a couple moreboxes if you want to help me unpack the rest of it.” You gestured to the pileof cardboard you had shoved into the corner of the living room.

It wasn’t much left, mostly décorthings that weren’t of pressing matter to get unpacked right away like thethings for the kitchen and bathroom. Flip regarded the boxes, glad that youwaited for him, he did want to help, wanted to help with everything.

“Oh yeah? Need me and my bigstrong muscles?” He joked, running his hands down your side.

“You bet honey.” You grinned, squeezingat his biceps. “What good are they if I don’t get to see you flex every one ina while?”

He flexed for you and youshimmied in his lap, making him push you over to lay down onto the couch with alaugh and kiss you all over again.

“You’re so beautiful.” He sighedhappily, standing up from the couch when his tickling and kissing attack wasover. He reached out a hand for you, and pulled you up to stand too. “I can’tbelieve I get to come home to this every day.”

“I love you so much.” You beamed,“I’m so happy.”

“That’s all I ever want.” Flipreplied truthfully, releasing his hold on you. You smiled and took off his parkafor him, walking to the mudroom to hang it up on one of the new brass hooks. Hewatched you appreciatively, the way your hips swayed as you moved.

“Well… thereis something else I’m wanting right now.” He admitted, licking his lips.

“Mmm, why don’t we leave theboxes for now, and instead survey the bedroom?” You asked, positioning yourselfin the doorway of the mudroom, all curves and limbs in a way that you knewwould drive him wild. You were just as eager for it, and you let your posturebroadcast that.

“I love the way you think, ketsl.”Flip hummed.

Without warning, you ran past himwith a laugh, making a beeline for the stairs. He had a feeling you’d lock himout of the room and make him guess another password, so he immediately followedyou up the stairs, going at it two at a time. He grasped you by the waist and thetwo of you dissolved into a fit of excited giggles, unable to keep your handsoff of each other as you stumbled towards the bed, barely breaking to breathe.

It was going to be a long andhappy time spent in that house, you both already knew.

Tagging some pals! :) As always, if you’d like to be added or taken off the list please just shoot me a message! @fullofbees @spinebarrel @oh-adam @dreamboatdriver @bad–bad–man @thecurlycaptain @bourbonboredom @driverficarchive @aweirdlookingtree @rosalynbair @redhairedfeistynerd @adamsnackdriver @glitzescape @arwarz @adamsnacc-kler @kyloxfem

#reader insert #flip zimmerman x reader #flip x reader #flip zimmerman/reader #blackkklansman #prompts #my writing #gosh i can't remember right now who came up with the flip playing baseball hc #but i hope it was alright to include it here #!#Anonymous #cowboy answers

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bumblebeeskies · 5 years

Text

𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧!

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦

𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: in which a boy who has a metal arm and a girl with bad lungs fall in love, even though they shouldn’t.

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: patient! bucky barnes x patient! fem oc

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: mentions of blood.

𝙖/𝙣: this took me so long to write and i’m very happy with the results so pls give ya girl some support :) i’m actually super excited to write this one, so buckle up partners, this is going to be a roller coaster. this will be like the movie “five feet apart” but with my own little twist! hope you enjoy and feedback is always welcomed! also thank you @go-romanoff, @eh-applejuice, @marvelmorvel for supporting me, y’all are the best.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1,240

___

The iodoform smell of the hospital room is strong, burning her nose as she sits on the rather uncomfortable mattress they had provided for her. It’s distinctive, overpowering as its chemical aroma hovers about. She should be used to it, really. The familiar phenolic and sterile scent is something she’s used to.

Ellie fiddles with a small photograph; over and over she flips it, staring at the faces upon it. Her fingertips graze against the photo softly, tracing the outlines. A sudden wave of homesickness rushes over her.

It was taken a long, long time ago - pre-diagnosis. There she stood, ten-year-old Ellie next to her older brother, Jamie, who had just turned twelve that day. He had begged their mother to take them to the beach - how could she refuse when it was his birthday? Oh, what a happy day that was. If Ellie thought hard enough, she could hear the humming of the ocean’s waves, or the smell the salty breeze that fanned against her cheek. Feel the golden hues of sand between her toes every time she walked. Those memories brought a sad smile upon her lips.

Ellie ponders, often way too much, what it would be like to have healthy functioning lungs. Because if she had such a lovely thing, she wouldn’t be stuck in a patients room all alone on a Friday night. She could be with friends or family, or just enjoying life, not from such an insensate room that felt suffocating.

There is a knock on the door and Ellie abruptly shoves the photograph under her pillow for it not to be seen. Claire - one of the few nurses that take care of her - burst in, a beaming expression setting on her face. Ellie wishes, oh so desperately, that she could be as ecstatic as the middle-aged woman.

“Hey dear, got a couple things for you.” She holds a pudding cup in one hand and two pills in the other. She gestures for Ellie to take them, and she does. Ellie puts the blue pills into the pudding, mixing them around; it was easier this way.

Claire eyes her solely, crossing her arms. “Where is your nose cannula and why isn’t it on?” Ellie takes a mouthful of the pudding, shrugging. Claire sighs. “how many times do I have to tell you to put that on? It’s serious!”

“Look, I’ll put it in right now.” Grabbing the all too familiar oxygen tube, Ellie adjusts it comfortably behind her ears, setting the tubes in. Claire hums in approvable.

“Keep that in for the rest of the night, young lady. I’ll be back to check on that iv drip later.” With a stern look, Claire is about to leave the room, but she stops without warning, glancing back.

“Oh, and one more thing, Remy told me to tell you to text him back. He’s having a crisis, again.” With that, she leaves. Ellie laughs to herself and takes one more bite of pudding.

Remy - a best friend ever since Ellie was a child - knew what it was like to feel imprisoned inside a hospital room all day. And if Ellie could, she would burst into his room and sit besides him, but she knew she couldn’t. Because if she did, both Remy and she would be exposed and that wouldn’t be good.

Cf was a thief and it took everything.

As if on cue, Ellie’s phone dings, and it doesn’t take her a moment to guess who it is.

remy:)🌸: hey you didn’t text me back! guess who has bronchitis again? this bitch!

Ellie giggles at that and instantly responds;

ellie🧚‍♀️: im sorry :( want me to stop by and bring snacks? i need to get out anyways

another ding, signaling that he has replied;

remy:)🌸: nah b im good, imma crash. you should still get out though, being stuck inside the hospital room isn’t good for your health bby!! nighty night!

He was right, though. If Ellie stayed cooped up in the dull patient's room any further, she would lose her mind.

Truth be told, she was nervous about staying here for a month. Yes, she had known about her lungs not working normally as others but when she found out that her lung function decreased, well, that scared the shit out of her. Waiting years for a new set of lungs was tiring, and unless some miracle happens where her cf magically disappeared, then she wouldn’t have to worry about whether she was going to wake up the next day.

But with Remy alongside her, and on the same boat, she gets through it, somehow.

Ellie decides to get out, and it’s not long before she’s up and moving. Picking up the portable oxygen tank at her bedside, she pulls the strap over her shoulder comfortably. Next, she grabs her medical mask, it is light pink, and she pulls it over her nose. One last thing; a pair of light blue gloves to cover her hands. A precaution.

Walking out into the large hallway, she grins as she noticed a teeny drawing of a rose taped to the outside of a half-opened door, an overturned hydro flask keeping it open slightly. She draws a heart on the dry erase board Remy has hung outside the door, to let him know she had stopped by, before taking off down the hall toward the doors that’ll lead to the main part of the hospital.

She’ll have to take the elevator, down to the b wing, across the bridge into building 1, and straight down to the nicu.

Ellie knew the hospital as well as the house she grew up in. After spending days, months, and years staying in emergency rooms, she was ought to discover her new home from home. every winding corridor, hidden staircase, or secret shortcut, explored over and over again.

Before Ellie can open another set of double doors, it opens by itself - a group of nurses and doctors wheeling in a man who is covered in large amounts of blood. Immediately, she pushes herself against the wall to avoid bumping into them. She can’t help but watch as they all scramble to get him inside a room - most likely the operation room - yelling inaudible sentences to each other.

Ellie’s breath hitches at the sight of the blood.

Not much she can catch, but the one thing she spots the most is the where his left arm should be intact, but there is simply nothing but thick, gushing blood seeping out the wound. A nurse did his best to put pressure, but it didn’t stop the red substance from oozing out.

Ellie races back to her room, shutting the door with haste. She pulls her mask down, doing her best to slow down her rapid breathing. She had to control it because if she didn’t, her lungs wouldn’t know how to cope.

Taking one last deep breath, she peels her gloves off, setting them onto her metal tray, then the mask next. She crawls into bed, pulling her covers over her body, trying her best to get comfortable.

She wants to sleep. She wants to be able to close her eyes without seeing the previous events that just had occurred only five minutes ago. Every time her eyelids shut, the same scene of flowing blood appears and she shifts on the bed in discomfort.

That night, Ellie didn’t sleep, a one-armed stranger stuck on her mind.

#bucky barnes #marvel #the avengers #bucky barnes fic #the winter solider fanfiction #patient!buckybarnes #bucky x oc #bucky x original female character #james buchanan barnes

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lotusillustration · 5 years

Photo

night raid

my first attempt at writing fic is under the cut... pls heed my warning that it is likely extremely shitty

tw for implied ptsd flashbacks, and gang-style violence. self beta’d, etc, etc...

Burning Ties

Phosphophyllite stood on top of a dingy looking abandoned storefront, staring at the spotlights lighting their former school’s grounds. Behind them, stood Padparadscha and Yellow Diamond, the trio dressed in white clothes - the clothes of their former enemy gang, the Lunarians. Each also held a distinctly-Lunarian gun, far more ornate than the guns Obsidian created for the Lustrous. The Lunarians, it seemed, cared far more about aesthetics.

This has to be a trap Phosphophyllite thought, looking down into the gardens, If we go down there, Bortz will-no Phos, pull it together! You’ve already committed to this!

At Phosphophyllite’s signal, the two seniors jumped off the roof, landing on the asphalt below with a quiet thud. As they was about to join them, however, they heard a voice behind them.

“Phosphophyllite.”

They spun on their heel in reaction to hearing their name, to see Bortz standing across from them on the roof, gun cocked, and pointed directly at them. It was as though time sped up, too many things going on, as Bortz grabbed Phos by the collar and held them up like a rag doll.

Yellow Diamond and Padparadscha landed on the ground below, and found themself facing a small group of armed Lustrous. Watermelon Tourmaline, Hemimorphite, Zircon and- who is that?

A figure dashed towards the pair, shoving their way past the other three Gems present.

Oh, shit Yellow thought, recognising the Gem charging towards them, wielding a handful of medical tools.

“Rutile!” they screamed, desperate to get through the them, “Padparadscha’s up again! They can fight! Isn’t that what you wa-“

Yellow was interrupted by a gunshot.

Rutile crumpled to the ground at Padparadscha’s feet, dropping their weapons to clutch their bleeding stomach. Blood pooled around their younger sibling, and their breaths became short and laboured.

“My…own…” Rutile rasped, before collapsing unconscious.

“Padparadscha? Why didn’t you just disarm them? Shove them aside? You know you could’ve overpowered them without-“

“Yellow,” they were cut off by a voice, and turned to face their former student, the now 20-year old Zircon...Yellow Diamond only just realising just how much the orange-haired Lustrous had matured over the past seven years. They stood staring blankly at their former leader, teacher, but held their gun pointed to the ground.

“Zirc! It’s not what it looks like. I-I just wanted to see if they were telling the truth about the others being ali-“

Another gunshot.

God, would Yellow even get a full sentence out tonight?

The shock from the sound and flash wore off, and they realised what they were looking at - Zircon clutching their bloodied chest, and Padparadscha evenly staring them down, still pointing their gun at the orange-haired junior.

“Padparadscha! Seriously! What the fuck! You- they’re going to die!” Yellow cried, a feeling of panic setting in. Why was Padparadscha doing this? They just killed their own beloved partner, and then shot Yellow’s former student unprovoked . They were about to open their mouth to speak again, before hearing the sound of glass smashing, and the smell of petrol filled the air.

Cinnabar?

They turned to the source of the sound, and now smoke billowing up from the building they had been standing on prior. Wait, shit, where’s Phos?

Too late, they saw another petrol bomb flying directly towards themself and Padparadscha.

Bortz dropped Phosphophyllite to the ground, staring them down. They pulled out their own gun, held at the ready to match Bortz.

“You don’t need to protect Kongo, he’s an evil person. The Lunarians said-“

“I won’t trust what a Lunarian says,”

The two were circling each other, threatening but not attacking, and never breaking eye contact.

“It makes sense!”

“You just wanted to believe them,”

“We need to change!”

“You wanted to change because you were weak,”

“It’s for our own good!”

“Don’t pin this on us,” Bortz snarled, before stepping backwards. As their foot hit the ground, they clipped a weak spot on the roof with their heel, causing the concrete to crumble beneath them. Bortz stumbled, and Phosphophyllite moved forward, planning to use the positioning to their advantage, before hearing the sound of breaking glass - a shard flying out and cutting into their leg.

They turned to the source of the sound, as smoke filled the air and the petrol ignited, causing flames to leap up in between Phosphophyllite and Bortz. Through the smoke, they saw Cinnabar jumping off the roof and aiming another petrol bomb at the seniors.

They lost sight of Bortz in the smoke, and suddenly Phosphophyllite looked down at their arms. The arms, that had been horribly burnt in a car bomb over four years ago, the arms they had lost all feeling in.

They hadn’t felt the burns.

In shock, they started at the blistering skin - their blistering skin, gold and black tattoos warping under the flames. Snap out of it they thought, before looking down and jumping to the ground where Yellow Diamond and Padparadscha had gone.

What happened here?

Yellow Diamond was wrestling with the flames to pull Padparadscha free, and two collapsed bodies over pools of blood lay nearby. Zircon? and…Rutile? Their former partners? Wh-what?

The senior-most Gem pulled Padparadscha or of the flames, screaming, crying, every emotion at once flickered across Yellow’s face.

“Padparadscha!” Phophophyllite screamed, in vain - how could someone be conscious after that? They collapsed to the ground, covering their face with their blistering hands.

“This isn’t what you wanted to happen, was it?” a gentle voice said, putting a hand on their shoulder.

The small, familiar frame of Euclase was knelt next to them, looking into their eyes, a sad smile on their lips.

“Phos, please. We need you in our future. You know that,” they started into Euclase’s always-sincere eyes, one blue, one white, and then looked away.

“What have I done?” Phosphophyllite whispered, looking at the hysterical Yellow Diamond, the collapsed Padparadscha, and Zircon and Rutile bleeding out.

The screeching of tires broke the silence, pulling everyone’s attention to two fancy, white cars. A figure in a white dress stepped out of one of them, arms crossed.

“Collect those three. Make it quick,”

Cairngorm. What are they doing here?

Three Lunarians Phosphophyllite had never seen ran towards each of the trio, grabbing them and shoving them into one of the cars. Cairngorm sat in the front seat,

“Drive,” they demanded.

Phos was crammed in the back of the car, Padparadscha slumped against one window and Yellow shaking and crying against the other.

“God Padparadscha, why? Your Rutile? and my Zircon? Why?! You could’ve overpowered your partner with ease, and Zircon wasn’t even threatening us-“ the words came out in choked, hysterical sobs, before drifting into unintelligible muttering.

Phos sat still, staring forward. What the hell had just happened? They were only there for 20 minutes at most, and what did they get from it? A dead Rutile and Zircon, a potentially dead Padparadscha, a hysterical Yellow and - oh god , what had happened to Bortz after the fire started?

This wasn’t the plan - Phosphophyllite just wanted to see Sensei, and what do they get for it? Four of their elder brothers killed?

They were about to shove their face into their hands, but finally got a good look at the damage done to their arms. They grimaced, and felt the world warp before their eyes.

My name? It’s Phosphophyllite.

I’m fifteen years old.

My partner is Antarcticite, who I might have just a teeny-tiny giant crush on.

Most of the rest of the gang is out of town for the Winter, since the Lunarians seem to all but shut down for the season. I asked if I could stay behind this year, and met Antarc when they were released from prison.

I’m on patrol with Antarcticite. We get ambushed by a group of Lunarians on a dingy side street, between apartment blocks. We fight back the group, and I breath a sigh of relief, before turning to face my mentor.

Their face suddenly falls from relief to the realisation that something is very, very wrong.

The last thing I ever feel in my arms is Antarcticite pushing me aside, as hard as they can.

I don’t have time to be confused.

The snow-covered car - god, the car, why the fuck didn’t we notice that - explodes. I see a flash of light, then darkness.

I never see Antarcticite again.

They came to again, to the realisation that they were hyperventilating, crying, their tears running off the now-warped golden tattoos they had all the way down their arms, hitting the singed flesh. It might’ve stung, had they been able to feel it.

The tattoos.

The tattoos that Red Beryl gave them, painstakingly over a few days until they were complete.

The last part of them that connected them to the Lustrous.

#hnk yakuza au #greasy twink #my art #my...writing??#also shinsha is meant to look Fucking Malnourished #but I couldn't figure out how to draw it properly #their lifestyle is entirely #sleeps all day bc they're a nocturnal fuck #go out for night patrol and drink at least four cans of cheap ass canned coffee and smoke at least one (1) entire pack of cigarettes #retreats indoors before the sun rises #that's why their Signature Move is bombs and stuff bc they would probably snap in half if anyone so much as pushed them #tw self harm /

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junionigiri · 6 years

Text

Work In Progress [BNHA] [Preview of Chapter 1!]

Rating: T for strong language (since Bakugou is in it )

Summary: For the year’s Interscholastic Fantasy Festival, Class 2A is working on a musical! The reluctant Bakugou is assigned to work on the script with Uraraka, who proves to be a more eccentric writer than he thought.

Relationship: Kacchako <3

Notes/Warnings: This is a preview of a part of chapter 1. Since there’s the main story and the story within the story, the chapters are pretty darn long. I’ll start publishing the chapters in full once I’m five chapters in ^^’ Apart from Bakugou’s language and liberal 4th wall breaks I don’t think there’s anything to worry about in this fic~

Bakugou seriously did not want to work on Uraraka’s dumbass script. It’s not that he was bad at writing--in fact, beyond his good grades, he knew he was pretty good at it. Principal Nezu had personally informed him that the essay he submitted on “Why I Want To Be A Hero” was one of the most well-composed ones he’s ever read.

It’s just that Bakugou hated fantasy. And hated fiction-writing (because fiction was not real, therefore it was a waste of his fuckin’ time).

Most of all though, he hated having to work with other people to achieve any kind of common goal. Look at his damn stats for cooperativeness in the character book and anyone with half a brain would get it. And to cooperate for a stupid ass waste of time like the Fantasy Festival? Who the hell thought up of the stupid Fantasy Festival anyway?! Weren’t there more important things in society to worry about?

And the fact that he was working with Uraraka fuckin’ Ochako was in itself pretty aggravating. It’s not that he hated her--in fact, she was one of the few to earn Bakugou’s (grudging) respect, since their infamous Sports Festival encounter when they were first years.

However, since their encounter at the festival, Uraraka learned not to be the tiniest bit afraid of him anymore. He knew that this girl wouldn’t be the type to just shut up and do what he tells her to, and he really didn’t feel like making such an effort just to write a stupid play.

But now that he knew that fuckin’ All Might was counting on him to write the script, well… he couldn’t get out of it now, could he? Bakugou was many things, but a disappointment to All Might, he’d rather not be.

So that was how he found himself stomping his way away from the common areas to his room, with Uraraka bouncing right behind him. They were going to sit down there to look over her draft, but it was overrun by the costumes, set-design, and props people with all their shit.

“Why your room?” Uraraka said, huffing as she struggled to keep up with Bakugou’s pace. “I don’t think girls are allowed there…”

“Let ‘em try to kick you out, Round-Face,” he growled as he tapped on the elevator button impatiently.

“If you say so, Explodey-face,” she teased, earning her a growl which was received with a giggle. This was what Bakugou was talking about. This damn girl knew no fear.

They eventually made it to his room, with Bakugou stomping the entire way and Uraraka skipping like an oblivious little red riding hood romping through the forest with a picnic basket, the purest picture of ignorance and innocence, unwitting of the ravenous wolf who lurked in the foreboding shadows of the dark, nightmarish wood.

Ugh. Really, Bakugou? Already gearing yourself up to write this fuckin’ fantasy shit? You guys haven’t even sat down yet. Don’t be too fuckin’ eager.

“Uwaa, your room’s amazing, Bakugou! I didn’t think it would be so neat and sparkly~”

Much to his annoyance, Little Pink Riding Cheeks was already making herself right at home next to his desk. He felt a vein or two pop over his forehead, like in animes if they were in an anime. “Why the fuck wouldn’t it be neat and sparkly?! You expect a guy like me to just live in a dump?!”

“I’m just sayin’, I wish my room was as neat. I knew you were great at lots of things, but even cleaning?” she said wistfully. “Hey, I have an idea! Next time, let’s go to my room, and--”

“I ain’t helping you clean your damn room, Round-Face.”

She pouted and innocently twiddled her thumbs. “I -wasn’t- going to say that, but, you know, now that you mentioned it…”

He grit his teeth so loudly Uraraka gasped and asked him if his teeth were okay. “Let’s just…!!! Get this fuckin’ script over and done with already!”

“Eh, fine, fine. Sorry for teasin’ ya! Watch yer blood pressure, a’ight?” She reached over to open her bag and pulled out a messy folder that was crumpled, filled to its limit with papers with tags pointing in all directions. A post-it with a messy scrawl on it flew out as she pulled out the mess. “So, this is what we’re gonna be workin’ on!”

“What the fuck is that mess? Did you fuckin’ sit on it and flush it down the toilet and set it on fire?”

“How rude!” Uraraka puffed her cheeks. “I only sat on it once! On accident! And I don’t bring homework to the toilet! That’s just unladylike.” She opened up the folder and revealed a disorganized array of handwritten scripts scrawled on legal pad, post-its, sketches, more post-its, reference photos of their classmates with post-its on them, receipts, a grocery list, and a few folded-up paper bags from Tokyu Hands.

Bakugou’s fingers itched. He spent so much energy restraining himself from fixing the mess that was now taking over his desk that he barely heard Uraraka’s spiel.

“So, in the meeting which you missed, we drew lots. Everyone’s working on the production and stuff but all of us will be acting in the play too. Some of us bit parts and stuff, but yeah. I asked everyone what they wanted their roles to be. Based on those ideas, I sketched out my ideas on what their characters would be.”

She pulled out the sketches, and Bakugou had to admit, they weren’t badly done. He would go so far as to say that she might have a talent in drawing. They were scratchy and messy, but Uraraka seemed to place great care in drawing out the likeness of each classmate, and the details of each character and costume and even background information were at least 70% fleshed out for each of them.

“So based on the lottery, Deku-kun’s the lead character. You, me, Tsuyu-chan, and Todoroki-kun are gettin’ large roles, plus we gotta pay attention to All-Might-sensei’s important cameo. We’re gonna write the story based on all of this! And, if we want to allot time for practice and stuff, we have to finish most of the script in a week!”

“The f-- I’m gettin’ a large role too?! Nobody said that!”

“It ain’t my fault you weren’t at the meeting, Bakugou-kun.”

The blonde boy scowled as he went through the sketches. The fucking nerd Deku’s role was that of a ‘Squire’ (but his costume made him look like a fucking hobbit). Uraraka had a hood (fuckin’ coincidence from his red riding hood fantasy earlier) and a staff, and she was a ‘Mage’. Frog was a froggy lookin’ barmaid. IcyHot was a Prince (probably of the Land of Half and Halfs where people were always shitty and constipated). All Might was a Legendary Knight in exile (also fitting, in a morbid sort of way).

And Bakugou was… a Bard. His sketch had him wear fuckin’ poofy pants and a stupid fuckin’ hat with a feather on it and a stupid shitty tiny harp that the chubby babies in those old fuckin’ European paintings had. He all but made the paper disappear from a blast from his fist. “Oi, Roundface. Who’s the fucker I gotta kill besides you for giving me this pansy-ass role?!”

“Hey, it’s your fault. You weren’t there yesterday.” Uraraka repeated, not even the least bit apologetic. “And that thing you destroyed was a brilliant joint effort between me, Kirishima-kun and Kaminari-kun. Nice goin’, Explodey-face.”

“Fuck y’all! I’ll kill those idiots!” He shredded the paper further. “Gimme that pencil!” Within seconds, he sketched out something different, muttering expletives the entire time. After he was done, he dumped the pencil on the desk, almost breaking it into tiny little pieces.

Uraraka gasped. “Wow, Bakugou! That’s really impressive! A Dragon Tamer, huh?” She traced his sketch with one finger, which showed him with a fur cape, tattoos, a necklace made of the fuckin’ skulls and teeth of his enemies, pants and boots, and lots of fire blazing in the background for extra badassery. She grinned at him teasingly. “So you have been thinkin’ about this so-called fantasy shit too!”

“Fuck you,” he said, shoving her in the face unceremoniously. “Now I know that I gotta change that fuckin’ script of yours. Let’s just get this fuckin’ shit over with.”

“Okay…” Uraraka pulled out the legal pads, but shielded them from Bakugou. “Um. Just so you know, Bakugou, these are really, really, rough drafts, okay?”

His jaw jutted out in annoyance. “The fuck you mean by rough drafts. I thought I was just gonna edit your shit.”

She gave him a ridiculous look. “Well, you are. But also, I started workin’ on this just a week ago sooooo you gotta help me finish like a teeny bit of it.”

“How fuckin’ teeny do you mean.”

“Um. Like. 50% of it, mmmaybe…?”

Bakugou could almost see the smoke coming out of his own fuckin’ nostrils.

“Anyway, that’s exactly why we can’t waste anymore time, right?” said Uraraka, a positive beam glowing out of both ears. “And don’t you worry! The story’s practically finished in my head!”

There’s probably nothing in there but a single light bulb struggling to survive, thought Bakugou in annoyance. He put his palm to his face and tried his hardest not to yell at her. “Fine, Uraraka. Let’s just fuckin’ start already. No matter what, I’m kickin’ you out of my room by 10 PM.”

“Okay! Glad ya see it my way, Bakugou-kun!” She smiled and pulled out the first page of the script, which read:

- Deku and the Final Fantastic Lord of the School of Wizardry!: The Legend of the Airbender’s Song of Ice and Fire -

(A Work in Progress)

Act One, Scene One: In Which Deku-kun Leaves His House and Adventure Begins

Written by: Uraraka Ochako

“The fuck? Are you trying to outdo Class B’s lameass play from the last year’s cultural festival, Round-face?”

“It’s a work in progress! We can edit it out later.” Uraraka said as she scribbled Explodey McSplodeface next to her name on the by-line.

#bnha fic #bnha #boku no hero academia #kacchako #kacchako fic #bakuraka #bakugou x uraraka #bnha fantasy au #kinda

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