#putting hate into his tags is really obnoxious and if you do it you shouldn’t wonder why people don’t like you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunpopz · 2 years

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free falling pt.2

pairing: haechan x afab!reader word count: 7.6k contains: gamer au, smut, perv!hyuck, sub!hyuck, humiliation kink, degredation, solo masturbaiting (m), overstimulation, handjobs, hyuck is rlly wrong for what he does lmao summary: you and haechan finally meet in person, but the circumstances aren't very ideal. how long can he keep himself together?

A/N: this took me fucking FOREVER but finally i'm done T^T. sorry for the wait + please leave feedback preferably in reblog tags!!

link to part one

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annoying ass 🤎 🐻: please call me back annoying ass 🤎 🐻: im sorry annoying ass 🤎 🐻: please dont hate me

your heart hammered in your chest as you watched each message pop in, nervously chewing on your fingernail. the confidence left you the moment it was all over, and while you felt bad for leaving haechan completely in the dark, you weren’t sure where to go from here.

everything you’d just done felt out of character, as if some alternate persona took over. it was sort of empowering, being this more confident and taunting version of yourself, and knowing that your little puppy crush on one of your best friends was reciprocated only confirmed that feeling.

but it was all foreign and uneasy now, you sitting cross-legged on your bed staring at your phone while the room only seemed to feel bigger and bigger around you.

after some contemplation and a self pep-talk, you figured there was no way around directly addressing what got you here without forever being uncomfortable with each other. you just weren’t sure how to go about that, but it didn’t matter because you were picking up your phone before you could talk yourself out of it.

haechan picked up immediately. “hi.”

“hey-”

“i’m so sorry, y/n,” he cut you off and his voice sounded even worse, like he was about to cry. “i don’t know what i was thinking. you deserve so much better. i’ve been so disrespectful.”

woah.

you were, for lack of a better word, shocked at his formal apology considering how he would normally struggle just to admit defeat in any other context. you and jeno would genuinely fight him to get him to say he was wrong at times. “oh.”

“i understand if you don’t wanna be friends anymore,” he continued, clearly crying now. your stomach flipped. “i really fucked up.”

you didn’t even realize exactly how much this invasive habit of his had been eating at him until now, and you honestly wouldn’t have even played with him the way you did if you knew it would end up with him crying to you like this. this felt serious and strange, like something you only experience once, and it lit fire in your veins.

haechan was never open like this. he was open to listening and aggressively caring, sure, but the idea of him crying to you about anything wasn’t even a thought before today. the wet cracks in his voice were the most intriguing part, and you wished you’d facetimed instead just to see the tears drop from his eyes. loud, obnoxious lee haechan was actually putting his pride aside to let himself feel all the shame he had coming to him.. he had to feel really bad.

but if he felt so bad, why did he do it in the first place?

you felt the switch happen within you, as if triggered into slipping into the other “persona” by your friend’s crying, before you spoke again. “don’t cry, haechan.”

his shaky breaths halted immediately, listening carefully to whatever you were going to say. your tone was nurturing and forgiving, merciful, and he felt that he could cry again just from that alone. he sucked it up, though, curious about why on earth you’d forgive him.

there was some silence before you spoke. “what you’ve been doing is simply disgusting,” you started, pausing to hear if he’d make a comment about that. you were met with silence. “and technically, i shouldn’t trust you anymore.”

there was a ‘but’ in there somewhere, he was sure of it. your sentences were leading somewhere, but they were slow and calculated, and he felt the urge despite his self pity to rush you to finish. he once again sucked it up.

“you already knew that, though. and you did it anyways. that’s what perverts do.” you told him, and this time you could hear him suck in a shaky breath after your pause. you smiled to yourself, hiding it as if he were in the room. “so tell me, haechan. are you a pervert?”

his heart skipped a beat, panicking in search of a response to such a question. truthfully? yes. but did he think you wanted to remain friends with one? “uh. n-no? i mean-”

“no?,” you laughed incredulously, mocking him. wrong answer. “you mean to tell me you beat your junk to me like every day, so much so that you’re crying in shame about it, but you’re not a pervert?”

“no! i meant-”

“is that not entirely backwards to you?” you cut him off, igoring his desperate attempts at backtracking with your piercingly judgemental tone. you felt on fire. “it’s completely fine for you to do what you did? are you not apologizing for the very thing you’re now telling me is normal, socially acceptable behavior? you really are fucked up in the head.”

haechan’s mind swam in a lake of pure confusion, feeling as if he was being pulled back and forth. your actions told him one thing while your words said another, and then they’d switch and give off the complete opposite message. he felt lost like maybe he was just too stupid to understand you, unsure what your motives were. did you really think he was fucked up in the head or were you just saying that to tease him? if you wanted to tease him, was it to turn him on or to make fun of him?

“so you have nothing to say for yourself?”

it seemed so easy to piss you off. you were just about to forgive him, giving him a rope to grab just to snatch it back that quick. that’s what confused him.. it felt so fake yet so real at the same time, this territory entirely unfamiliar to the both of you. he didn’t know what it was like to really make you mad, to really disgust you, so he couldn’t tell what was genuine and what wasn’t.

he just felt stupid. completely and utterly stupid, unable to tell what’s okay from what’s not. was his brain really so twisted that he’d end up trying to convince you that he did nothing wrong? he gave up. “i’m sorry. i am a pervert.”

the defeat in his voice thrilled you. it reminded you of the familiar triumph you got from that exact defeat in other contexts, whether that be during competetive video games or meaningless debates. you usually had to work for it, but now he willingly submitted to you due to the shame of his own actions. it was rewarding; felt like justice.

you hummed in agreement, light and appraising, like a teacher encouraging a student for getting a question right. haechan wanted to cry again. “and do you think it’s a good idea for me to stay close friends with a pervert?”

“...no.”

“then you’ll have to make it up to me somehow, right?”

“yeah?”

he was cooperating with your condescending words as if he were being scolded by a parent. you were once again thrilled, feeling the power you had over him as if it were tangible.

you sighed as if reminded about how disappointing this was and he felt scared that he might’ve said the wrong thing again. after some silence, you cleared your throat. “so promise me you’ll never touch yourself to the thought or image of me ever again. can you do that?”

but that’s the thing, wasn’t it? he could apologize all he wanted to, teary eyed and desperate to keep you in his life, but would he stop?

was this instance enough to scare him out of his bad habit?

“yes,” he breathed, voice full of hope. whether the hope was for your forgiveness or his future self, you weren’t sure. “i promise.”

—

your relationship was never quite the same.

weeks went by and haechan still acted as if you knew all of his deepest secrets, doing nice things for you and agreeing with everything you said even when he disagreed in his head. he was still witty and loud around everyone else in your circle, but he behaved like a kicked puppy towards you.

to anyone who payed close enough attention, it would seem like you were blackmailing him or something. it kind of hurt considering you literally weren’t, but he did it to himself.

jeno noticed the change first, having been the third leg of your usually tight-nit trio. he didn’t say anything directly, but he would reference the sudden lack of chemistry between you at times. sometimes it was a joke and sometimes it just came up in conversation, but you felt bad regardless, even if you’d done nothing wrong. he just assumed it was something that would pass and stayed out of your ways.

you missed the person in your life that haechan used to be. his playful nature, his cocky tone, the bright smile that always reached his eyes.. that especially was something you rarely saw, and it was never because of you.

though, one thing that never changed were the good night texts.

you always texted each other good night even if you hadn’t talked that day, sometimes with emoji hearts or smiley faces. as miniscule as it was, it solidified that you two were in fact not on bad terms, and still wanted to keep in touch with each other.

it was also the reason you decided to play with him some more.

there was a gaming convention that had been coming up for quite some time; a decently sized event in a popular city where all the well-known streamers would meet up with both fans and each other. your circle of online friends had your own little community of watchers that only seemed to grow as each day passed, so you’d all been planning to go since it was announced, talking out the meetup and budget every few days.

the three of you were to meet your other friends - yena, jisung, and winter - at a huge airbnb that you all put money towards renting. the event would last three days while the house is rented out for a week, the extra days set aside to explore the city.

you could practically feel everyone’s excitement for the trip build up as the weeks went by, and as you finally entered the large house with a big suitcase in hand and a neck pillow hanging onto you for dear life, it never faultered. you were the second one to arrive (after jeno), barely even able to take in your environment before he jumped from the couch and engulfed you in a tight hug.

“jeno!” you heaved, the breath leaving you as his grip only got tighter. you hugged him back with just as much energy.

it was kind of surreal to see and feel him in person after only interacting with him through a screen for so long. his body was warm and firm against yours, muscles contracting as his arms tightened around you, and you let out a strangled noise while tapping his back to signal that he should release you. “dude, i love you but you’re gonna kill me.”

he let you go and stepped back, hands still tugging a bit on your forearms like he wanted to hug you again. “i’m sorry, this is just.” he gave you a once over, eyes sort of wide. “it’s just.. you’re real.”

a laugh rumbled from your chest as you nodded, agreeing with the sentiment that meeting jeno in person confirmed that he was in fact real. his smile grew as he stared at you some more, then shook his head as if in disbelief before letting your arms go. “i explored a little. the owner of the place left us these goodie bag things in the bedrooms, but there’s only four so you should grab one before anyone else gets here. come, i’ll show you.”

you had about thirty minutes alone with jeno before the others started piling in an hour or so between each other, loud and excited to finally meet in real life. it felt almost dream-like to hear their voices and see their familiar faces in your physical environment. the two-story house was lively with exclamations bouncing off the walls by the time it was dark.

the place was neat with a lot of space; not necessarily fancy but not cheap looking either. it was organized nicely with real wood floors and smooth clean furniture, board games and gaming consoles in their respective rooms to provide the guests with entertainment. none of you would’ve be needing those anytime soon, though, too focused on catching up on each other’s journey’s getting there.

haechan arrived way later than everyone else, walking in clumsily with a flimsy duffle bag and sweats, hair a fluffy mess and crocs on his feet. he’d clearly worn whatever would make him most comfortable on his plane ride without thinking of the part where he finally gets to meet his friends and take pictures. you thought he just had to be acting silly for attention though, considering he was texting the groupchat in sadness every time any of you sent a selfie with each other, complaining about his delayed planes.

it was no secret that attention was something he thrived (and honestly relied) on, but the way his face broke into that happy content smile when everyone shouted his name and ran to hug him definitely added evidence to that fact.

your heartbeat quickened when you saw him, his laugh ringing in your ears. you had felt pretty tired because of all the activity and jet lag, but he was the one you anticipated seeing the most so all the drowsiness left you immediately.

you realized too late that you were just staring at the group hug from a foot away rather than joining in, everyone already releasing haechan by the time you thought to move. it led to a much more intimate-feeling embrace as the rest of the bunch went to sit back down leaving just the two of you there, his expression towards you almost bashful. this greeting was a lot different from jeno’s, with your heart pulsing hard in your chest and your mind much more in tune with your senses.

he smelled nice, warm and thick with how close you were. feeling the body heat of his form through his clothes grounded you a little and you remembered that this was haechan, someone you’d been wanting to meet so bad for the past year and a half. he was often the only person who could make you smile on shitty days and the only person who could never truly piss you off. just a few blunt words from him had given you breakthroughs before, and while most people saw some unpredictable and obnoxious guy, you saw genuine unconditional care and attention. you hugged him a little tighter.

haechan sighed sweetly at that and burried his face into your neck a bit. “hi.”

“hi,” you breathed back, his voice almost hushed like the simple hello was for your ears only. goosebumps rose on your skin, not used to anything about this, but especially hearing him that close. “was waiting for you all day.”

he moved away from you abruptly then, like he shouldn’t have been touching you for that long, and huffed a fake little laugh. his eyes avoided yours when you studied his face (which was even prettier in person, you noted) as he put his bag down against the wall with everyone else’s. ignoring the weird part of that interaction, you turned around to go back to your seat only to be met with both yena and winter staring you down in a mixture of curiosity and understanding. your heart dropped as you sat down, knowing you were about to get grilled.

your relationship with the two of them was definitely closer than your relationship with jeno and haechan in the emotional aspect. you guys bonded easier, and while the guys were more on the ‘i’m hanging out with you to have fun’ side, the girls were more like the ‘i’m hanging out with you ‘cause we just understand each other’ side. they were sweet but honest, the two of them making the most loving environment for you whenever you needed it. that also made them incredibly nosy, because now that you supposedly kept them updated with any substantial drama, they felt compelled to know anything you hadn’t told them yet.

you side eyed the girls sitting next to each other the moment you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, already knowing it was one of them in your groupchat. sure enough, they were already looking back at you with their phones in their hands and anticipation written on their faces. you rolled your eyes.

duckieee 🐤: ??? duckieee 🐤: did u guys fuck or sumthing?? <winter3: yena 😭 duckieee 🐤: im serious !! wtf was that he looked like he was about to jizz himself <winter3: well yeah but we already know he has a crush on them.. that was just like. a very weird energy like we definitely missed something

you bit your lip to hide the smile starting to break out on your face, unable to contain your excitement about the topic of you and haechan. you still felt like you were catching your breath after hugging him, and your eyes flicked over to him for a moment. he was talking to jeno and jisung, likely catching up when his own eyes met yours for a second and looked away just as fast, visibly stuttering in his thought process because you caught him staring. you went back to your phone.

you: wdym you know he has a crush on me? did he say something? <winter3: ? duckieee 🐤: itz obvious as fuck duckieee 🐤: but thats besides the point <winter3: ^^ you: 🖕 you: ok yes something did happen but i can’t say you: you guys need to drop it for his sake duckieee 🐤: omg <winter3: woah <winter3: yk you’re gonna have to tell us eventually right? you: and i’ll be expecting compensation for doing so 💗 <winter3: 🖕🏻 duckieee 🐤: 🖕🏻🖕🏻

some time passed with the group of you just making conversation again, now with beers from an ordered case in your hands, taking in each other’s presence. it was probably the most content you felt in a while, the main event of this entire trip now crossed out in your book. sure, you guys came here for the convention, but meeting up was the part that was most anticipated.

there was a moment of comfortable silence after having talked for at least an hour and you took the time to put your hazy brain to use and observe everyone in the room. your eyes scanned the couches from left to right, seeing haechan next to the girls, jeno next to haechan, and jisung in between jeno and you. out of nowhere, you started giggling.

you got a mixed reaction of confusion and amusement, ignoring a comment from yena about you being a silly drunk while jeno spoke, curious to know what was going on in your head. “what’s so funny?”

you looked at everyone again, watching them watch you, eyes lingering on haechan for a second longer than they should’ve. they all seemed just as content as you, sitting relaxed and sleepy. you fought the urge to laugh again as you structured your next sentence in your brain. “you’re all hot as fuck.”

you laughed even harder as the words processed through everyone, surprise on their faces as none of them were expecting that response. they laughed with you a little too, also tipsy and now clearly even more confused, so you continued.

“it’s just like,” you started, sitting up in your seat so you could try your best to seem serious despite the dopey smile on your face. “you’re all gamers, some trash-,” you looked pointedly at jisung, who jokingly opened his mouth and put his hand on his chest in faux offense, earning giggles from everyone else, “-and you all use discord and twitch and all that, yet you’re all hot. it’s so rare; not even one of you are below 10. i’m saying this genuinely.”

“you can change that ‘you’ to a ‘we’, you know.” winter insisted, her eyes sincere and smile sweet. very typical of her, including you into your own compliment to make sure you weren’t left out. it wasn’t even that you thought you didn’t look good yourself, you just weren’t thinking about it. you thanked her regardless.

jeno nodded along to winter’s words and it made you feel a little bashful now that the attention was completely on you, but then he spoke and dragged it even more. “yeah. i mean this in the friendliest way possible, you’re even hotter in person.”

haechan was at a loss. from the moment he walked in and saw you, he felt like he was back in high school, nervous to even be sitting in the same room as his crush. he thought for a moment that he was going to be fine and easily able to keep himself together, but then hearing your quiet voice up close as your body pressed to his drove him haywire. now as he listened to jeno acknowledge how attractive you were without relunctance or actual feelings attached, he just didn’t understand it.

your presence in and of itself was magnetic, and he could barely focus on any of the conversations you all were having because he just couldn’t stop looking at you. there you were, the same person he had a history of getting off to at any and all times of the day, looking even more mouth-watering live and in action. sure, you were also a close friend who sweetly asked how his day was in the evenings and hyped him up in his most energetic moods, but there was currently a phenomenon occuring in his mind.

psychologically (and he didn’t know the exact science of how, but he knew it was there), he had trained himself to associate you with sex and lust, and he had been aroused all night. you weren’t even wearing anything but casual clothing, skinny jeans and a tank top under a halfway-zipped hoodie, but it didn’t matter. he’d seen you in this exact outfit before, but only through a screen, and now he could see even just the details of the cloth material, the textures of your face and lips, and the strands of hair on your head that didn’t stick with the rest. he wanted you so bad.

the feeling of his face in the warmth in your neck earlier replayed in his mind as well, but this was dangerous territory. he’d deny it ‘til the day he died out of fear, but he had been jerking off to you regularly once again despite his strong will not to when you confronted him. you were like a drug and he had relapsed, learning to either hold his desires off until a call ended or come up with an excuse to turn off both his mic and cam and just beat it out real quick, staring hard at your unknowing face. the latter happened very rarely due to how quickly you caught onto his “bathroom breaks”, but that wasn’t enough to convince himself that he wasn’t as bad, or truthfully worse, than he was before.

to put it simply, he adapted, and as relunctant he was about it at first, he just indulged and indulged until he ultimately gave up on his dignity completely.

but again, this was dangerous territory. you were actually here and he was turned on beyond belief, but he couldn’t just get himself off here. there were too many people and he was likely going to be sharing a room, and he realized it was worse than he thought when he watched you excuse yourself to the bathroom with that usual polite smile, almost having to stop himself from following you just to see more of how your ass swayed while you walked.

yena had created a game, as previously discussed while planning the trip, where each person pulled a paper from a hat with room numbers written on them to decide where everyone would sleep. there were four rooms in total, three of them having two beds and one of them by the game room in the basement. realistically, no one would need that room, but it was nice to have the option for two people to end up sleeping alone.

you were paired with winter, much to both haechan’s relief and dismay. while he knew there’d be relatively no positive outcome of the two of you sharing a room, but part of him just wanted to be in your presence for as long as possible. he ended up with the solo room downstairs, though, which was definitely the best option, and he grew excited knowing that he was now able to get off in peace.

you all grabbed your things and headed into your respective rooms, starting your night time routines. haechan was thrilled to see that his room had a bathroom right next to it, thanking every higher power that he didn’t have to walk up the stairs again if he had to pee in the middle of the night. he could still hear some muffled laughter and conversation from the floor above him as he settled himself, pulling out his facewash with a smile on his face, rushing to finish his routine so he could take care of his pulsing hard on.

as he entered the bathroom, though, it smelled very faintly of something sweet and fruity, which he recognized to be the strong scent of your clothing when he hugged you earlier. sure enough, the familiar navy blue hoodie you wore sat rolled up on the counter by the sink, and he realized you used the bathroom downstairs when you left just a half hour before this.

his dick reacted before he did, his body just automatically intruiged by anything that reminded him of you. and when he picked it up to place it elsewhere, he realized he had a big decision to make.

his thoughts screamed at him to rub himself off on it, mind already becoming void of common sense at the prospect of getting figuratively closer to you. he knew he should just go return it to you, or at the very least place it somewhere else, but he was nearing past the point of horny, that very familiar feeling of caving in starting to creep over him as he barely weighed his options.

he was placing his facewash down and raising the hoodie to his face before he thought to stop, sticking his nose into it and sniffing deeply for a long moment, groaning when he exhaled. he felt nearly dizzy, hand rubbing himself over his sweats to give himself some much needed relief.

the way your face lit up in conversation when it was something that interested you, leaning forward in your seat made his heart race. seeing the goosebumps and hairs on your arm as you walked past him, wafting your lightly sprayed perfume in his space made him want to grab and kiss you. he could reach out and touch you if he really wanted to, and he did really want to, but he had to relax.

in his mind, if he had just been like normal people and displayed his affection appropriately, the two of you could’ve been dating by now. he could’ve been your boyfriend, sitting right next to you on the couch, arm around you shoulder, kissing your cheek every now and then. you could’ve shared the bed downstairs, his hands roaming your body as you made out, groping your ass and rubbing your cunt over your underwear. you would’ve been all like ‘no.. haechan our friends will hear us’ and he’d say ‘let them hear. they’ll know none of them could ever have you like i can.’

he’d fuck you hard and rough, the cheap headboard hitting the wall and the bed creaking as you whimpered at every thrust, wet and loud, skin on skin. he’d watch you try to cover your mouth when he hit your g-spot with a mean laugh, slapping your hand away and forcefully grabbing your face just to come closer and spit, ‘are you stupid? i said let them hear.’

you’d be apologizing and whining his name in desperation, about to cum when he’d see his phone light up on the nightstand for what felt like the millionth time that night, looking over to unread messages of his friends upstairs begging the two of you to shut up. jeno specifically would be angry and exasperated, jealousy apparent even through this ext messages, and he would pick up the phone and take a selfie from a high angle that shows the both of you. you’d be fucked out and teary eyed, his cock deep inside of you and he would be winking and throwing a kissy face, then he’d send it to jeno.

best of all, though, you’d be apologizing for your irrational anger towards him after catching him over a month ago. you’d apologize for making him cry, for calling him a pervert, for making him promise something that you knew he was bound to break just to make yourself feel taller. he’d tell you that you should’ve been flattered by his behavior and you’d cum then, squeezing tightly around his cock as you screamed out his name.

haechan was completely out of his mind.

he knew it whole-heartedly, having placed the bunched up hoodie on the edge of the counter as he desperately humped his now naked cock onto it, eyebrows screwed tightly and sweats and underwear pooled at his feet. the fantasies in his head were all quite stupid, but it was so hot to him to imagine you wrapped around his finger the way he was wrapped around yours. and knowing that when it really came down to it, if he had to tell you about such fantasies, he’d be put in his place immediately. he could only dream.

he was breathing hard, eyes shut and whimpering faintly with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, lost in the feeling of fabric from your clothing on his skin, and so so close to coming when he heard someone clear their throat at the doorway.

fuck. why didn’t he close the door?

haechan jolted, a sharp gasp leaving him as he covered himself with your hoodie at the speed of light and turned just to be met with the sight of you at the doorway. your arms were crossed as you leaned against the doorframe, eyebrow lifted and amusement written on your face. haechan’s heart sank deep into his stomach.

here he was again, caught. this was worse than before, much worse, an actual violation. surely, he’d broken an actual law this time, and as his reality sunk in, he felt doom hit him.

“so.. you were just gonna leave a cum stain on my jacket? and thought that was a good idea?” you asked, deadpan but once again amused, and haechan didn’t know what to say. he felt frozen, just watching you react with ringing in his ears before he could even begin to figure out how to get out of this.

you scoffed at his silence, staring down the stupid look on his face as you walked towards him. he probably didn’t realize it, but his chest was heaving, eyes wide and panicked as he looked down at your judging expression. you just stared at him for a moment, challenging him, then reached for your hoodie when he didn’t budge.

he held it tight to him, resisting against you trying to grab it. you snatched it then, attitude written on your face at his audacity, and he seemed to visbily cower, lowering his face now that his hard leaking cock was exposed.

you laughed, grabbing his face and forcing him to look back at you. his eyes met yours, shameful and a little scared, and you gave him a fake pout. your words came out soft and quiet, laced in disappointment, “you promised me.”

guilty, he sighed in defeat, the sound now familiar to you. “i’m sorry-”

“no the fuck you’re not,” you interrupted him, loud and amused at his apology. “don’t even try that shit with me. just look at yourself.. hard as a rock from my fucking jacket.”

you grabbed his arm and turned him to face the mirror, the reflection of a half naked haechan looking back at him. you moved behind him just as he looked away, too ashamed to see himself like this, and grabbed his dick, stroking slowly.

haechan squealed, eyes wide in shock before fluttering closed and breathing in both deeply and sharply, and you once again laughed. he was fucking into your hand immediately, a new and sort of heavy desperation firing in his veins at your foreign, yet craved touch. you watched him through the mirror, stroking a little faster and twisting your wrist as you hummed, his hands dropping to the counter to keep him balanced.

“easy there, boy.” you mocked, honestly kind of shocked at his instant reaction. after watching his hips stutter at your words, you came up with an idea. “i want you to listen to me very carefully. can you do that?”

he nodded hesitantly, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he chased his high. it was rising quicker than expected since he was already wound up, and he felt like he might die if he didn’t cum soon. you kissed the back of his neck before you spoke, earning a soft moan.

“honestly, haechan? i want you to fuck me so bad,” you admitted in a sweet longing sigh and he moaned again, louder. you couldn’t bite back your smile, using your free hand to tightly cover his parted mouth before you continued. “and i know you want that just as bad, if not more, so i want you to prove to me that you can. if you last this handjob, i’ll let you fuck me.”

he’d never make it past two minutes.

haechan was completely and utterly overwhelmed, lost in the way your smaller hand wrapped around his length. this was more than just seeing the person he had been losing all control over in person; this was your skin on his most sensitive area, your soft hand replacing his as you helped him get off to you. he felt the way your boobs brushed against his back, your breath at his neck, your hand clamped on his face. you were just hundreds of miles away and now you were all over him, your warmth and smell engulfing his senses as you gave him the pleasure he’d craved from you for so long.

you stroked him faster, ignoring his groan and leaning up to his ear in a whisper. “you’re seriously pathetic, you know? i gave you the opportunity to start over and you violate my clothing?”

your words were sharp and judging and haechan keened lewdly, getting deja vu. your breath tickled his ear, the faint smell of beer passing through his nose at your proximity. he felt like he was floating; completely in heaven with you all over him, piercing him with degrading words.

“you like that nasty shit, don’t you?” you asked, relentless with your pace on his cock. at his silence (or as silent as he could be with mindless whimpers leaving his throat), you removed the hand on his mouth to get an answer. instantly, he was heaving loudly as if he had just saved himself from drowning, irritating you as he once again just didn’t seem to think about anyone else in the house. “will you shut up? i asked you a question.”

after your words processed in his mind, he looked up at you through the mirror, eyes lidded and glossy and confusion written on his face. you rolled your eyes. clearly nothing you were saying was registering with him. “dumbass.”

maybe the words you spoke to him actually weren’t making sense in his mind at the moment, but he clearly understood something in your tone that told him you were degrading him, making him feel like his world revolved around you.

your hand started squeezing tighter at the tip and he fell forward, his own hands gripping the counter for balance. a time bomb was ticking in his gut, having been sitting on the edge of an orgasm for what felt like hours now, and he knew he was done for. his thrusts became sloppy and his eyes shut, eyebrows twisting as his pleasure intensified. he was normally so much more talkative, or at least vocally responsive in bed, but you had caught him in an act and were actively putting him in his place, sending his head to the clouds. the thrilling part was that he knew this was only a fraction of what you could do to him had there not been a house full of people in the way.

everything felt surreal. he didn’t even realize the sounds he was making, high and desperate, or the fact that he was starting to shake. you continuously hummed and chuckled at him and it drove him insane, getting no sort of sympathy from you as he lost himself completely just from your hand. one noise he made in particular, a high and desperately pathetic whine, clearly caught your attention because you mocked it in the same tone, lifting the end a bit to make it sound like a question. he was going to lose his mind.

“stop, stop, stop, stop,” haechan begged, breathless and desperate for both an orgasm and something more, still fucking your hand despite his words. you could tell he was close before he even said anything, but you weren’t nearly done, so he was just going to have to figure something out on his own.

as he struggled to hold back, mouth agape with whiney breaths leaving him, a thought occured to you. “when i confronted you a while ago.. were you really crying because you didn’t want to lose me as a friend, or was it because you were scared you wouldn’t have me as a form of free porn anymore?”

he came then, hard and graciously, and you busted out laughing. he couldn’t even fully register what you had just asked him; he just heard the tone of your voice, condescending and merciless, and understood that you were acknowledging his vulnerable tears and invasive behavior at the same time. it was all too much, past the point of too much, and his orgasm nearly knocked him over with the force of it, leaning completely on the counter now as his legs tried to keep his body upright. your laugh was drowned out by static for a moment before reaching his ears again, now quiet and to yourself as you turned his body over so he was leaning on the counter entirely.

then the realization that you were still stroking him, just as fast as before, hit him like a truck.

he wailed openly, torso stiffening as he used his palms on the counter to subconsciously lift his body up and away from your hand, hips pushing into it regardless. you shushed him harshly. “don’t make me cover your mouth again. we’re in a house full of people. not that you care.”

“please,” he begged, voice barely coming out as he looked up and into your eyes fully for the first time, ignoring your words. his recently lidded eyes were now wider and you could actually see his dilated pupils, eyes already watery from the painful pleasure he was recieving.

“i asked you a question, haechan. a very important one,” you reminded him. his eyebrows furrowed, desperation laced in both his breathing and the way he looked at you from one eye to the other quickly, trying his best to explain his confusion without words. you lifted a brow.

he looked away then, eyes landing around the room as he tried his absolute best to remember what you asked him, brain full of absolutely nothing as your hand continued to work him with speed. you could physically see the seperation in his mind from his body, loud whimpers leaving his mouth and hips jerking both away and towards your hand as he tried to think.

“are you too stupid to remember anything now?” you pressed. haechan moaned then, deep and too loud for your liking. irritation laced your words then, mocking him as you spoke slowly. “your name is haechan.. you’re twenty-one years old.. you’re a filthy pervert? a stalker with no self control.. ringing any bells?”

dumbly, he nodded, the slow speaking actually helping him despite it’s purpose. you smiled widely, wishing you could get this on camera. “yeah? that’s you, baby?”

the petname sent a hard rush through him from head to toe, slow and electrifying, and he didn’t even realize he came again until he came back to his senses. he was sitting on the closed toilet seat now, his pants back on and his eyes bleary as he took in his surroundings.

you weren’t anywhere to be seen.

shaking off the feeling of deja vu, he got up on shaky legs and grabbed the water bottle you must’ve left for him on the counter, not noticing how dry his mouth was until he saw it. he downed it quickly, the loud crinkling of the bottle echoing off the walls as he emptied it.

once again, he was alone after your assistance, but it was different this time. he wasn’t confused or sad, nor did he want to reach out and apologize. he just knew now that this was the game you were going to play, and even if he didn’t like it or wished there was more to it, he had to be grateful for what he had of you.

because realistically, he shouldn’t have had anything.

—

creeping through the hallway proved to be extremely unnecessary once you entered your room, because winter was wide awake.

you snorted when you saw her figure lying back on the bottom half of the bed, legs dangling off the edge with her phone held above her face. she was clearly into whatever she was watching, the screen’s brightness being the only light in the room. you made your way to your suitcase to find some pajamas. “why are you still up?”

“i could ask you the same thing,” she bit back, quick and playful. it would be a lie to say your heart didn’t sink a little at the possibility of her knowing what happened downstairs, and she took your silence as an answer. “if you guys are fucking, i don’t get why you just won’t say so-”

“we’re not!” you hissed in a whisper, hinting that she needed to keep her voice down when saying something like that. you were pulling your pj shorts up your legs when she gave you a highly suspicious look, that being the first time she turned her face away from her phone since you came in. you tried to give her a convincing look but a smile creeped on your face regardless, and you cursed your reflex of smiling when embarrassed.

winter scoffed in amusement and turned back to her screen. “i hope you know i don’t believe you one bit, and you should feel lucky you didn’t room with yena because she’d be tearing you apart right now. however, i’m the nice one so i’ll just let you sleep and wait until the morning.”

bless her heart, you thought.

you were settling into the white bleach-smelling sheets of the bed, already feeling the long day catch up to you when you got a notification.

you were going to ignore it considering you’d left your phone on the floor on accident, but when you looked down, you saw the unmistakeable contact name with the brown heart and bear emoji. putting aside your laziness, you reached down and grabbed it, letting the screen unlock with face recognition so you could read the message.

annoying ass 🤎 🐻: goodnight

you felt giddy at the text, heart warming at the fact that he remembered. you mentally slapped yourself for not remembering first, especially after completely demolishing him not even an hour ago.

you knew this relationship was weird. what haechan was doing was weird, and your tolerance for it was weird. but regardless of already having two people curious about it, and possibly three with jeno’s confusion, nobody had to know, so it didn’t matter. you both had something to lose which made you both vulnerable to each other, and it was inevitable that this would only continue to become nastier and more eventful, but that only excited you. the two of you could be weird together.

typing quickly and with a sense of solidarity, you texted him back and shut your phone, ready to see what the next day might bring for the two of you.

you: goodnight <333

- -

TAGLIST: @paymal7 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @zzztaegizz @deepbookslibrariesquotesbear @tyongerine @hellooseulgi @liliansun @neonymphatbest @muiiq1 @scentedponykidpainter @pocketneos @lune1897 @jenocrush

A/N: thank you everyone for the nice words about the first part and showing interest in a part 2!! sorry for the delays and everything. also if some things like timing in the story didn't make any sense it's because i didn't plan that part out so i just wrote whatever pls ignore it lmaoo

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elfqueen006 · 8 months

Text

The Lifeguard Part 1

Sunny Day Jack x Reader

---

Tags/CW: summer camp au, camp counselor au, horror, slasher, enemies to lovers. Reader is a bitch at first but eases up on Jack.

Minors DNI

You were the worst candidate to choose for a counselor, much less a counselor-in-training. You were crass, unqualified, and a slob to boot. But Sunny Day Jack, the camp mascot, couldn’t say anything because the kids took to you like ducks to scattered bread, and the head counselor admired your “can do attitude”. He’d just have to put up with you for the rest of the summer and to steer clear of the water…

Oh yeah another thing: You were the lifeguard.

“Cannon ball!”

Jack looked up from his clipboard to see one of the kids racing across the docks before jumping in the lake, making a large slash that sprayed everyone within distance.

“Hey, hey! No running on the docks, guys!” He said.

You however, clapped and whooped from your chair. “Sick dive, David!” You cheered.

The boy came up from the water and grinned at you.

Jack marched up to your chair and glared at you, “They’re not supposed to run on the docks,” he said, enunciating his words, “and as the lifeguard you should know it’s your responsibility if anything happens to them!”

“And I’ll take full responsibility, Jack-o. Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control,” You replied coolly. You drew your finger down your face like a teardrop and stuck out your bottom lip, “Don’t be a sad clown.”

The kids and counselors giggled upon hearing your joke.

Despite him being the camp mascot, Jack was essentially a counselor himself. Though he had fun – he was responsible. In his late teens as a counselor-in-training, he gradually built himself up to a trusted and respected member of staff.

And yet here you were – a newbie slacker – who was able to reduce him to a common fool with a single remark.

“Lay off,” Skylar said. She was your best friend and polar opposite. Sweet, considerate, and fun loving in a way that wasn’t arrogant or obnoxious. Call it childish, but he thinks he might’ve had a crush on her since this summer started.

She lightly chided you before pinching your leg. Then she gave Jack a sweet smile, brushing her blonde locks from her face. She put a hand on his shoulder and the man just about turned to jelly.

“Don’t mind her, she’s an asshole,” She said with humor, “The kids will be fine. I’m watching them too.”

“Thanks, Skylar.” Jack replied.

He turned to leave but she stopped him, lightly biting her lip as she looked up at him through golden lashes, “I know you don’t drink and all… but the other counselors and I were wondering if you would come with us to the bar tomorrow night? I notice you’ve been stressed lately and I think it’d be good if you let off some steam.”

Jack had a heavy problem with drinking and anything drug related. As in he refused to participate in it and at times discouraged his fellow counselors from doing so, especially when on the job. He knew he came off as preachy, but this place was practically a second home to him. And the staff were like his family. He’d hate to see what’d happen if they fell down a messy path like he did…

Or worse, hurt one of the kids.

Warily, he glanced towards the high chair. “Is she going to be there?”

Skylar bit her lip guiltily, “She is one of the counselors too.”

“Yeah, some counselor…” Jack muttered.

“Hey, sure she’s a jerk sometimes but she’s really cool when it counts!” Skylar said, “Besides, no matter how much she may be, you shouldn’t let that ruin your chance to relax. Don’t you think you deserve that?”

He glowered at you from afar. One of the kids had fallen off a boat and instead of reacting accordingly, you started cackling before being told by another counselor to go and fetch them. But then he looked down and those perfect sky blue eyes looked back up at him. He sighed defeatedly.

“I guess I can make…some kind of compromise. But if it gets too hectic I’ll leave!” Jack said.

“No you won’t,” Skylar said, nudging his arm, “because we’ll need a spotter so we don’t get too drunk and someone to take us home.”

He huffed a laugh, “Right.”

She grinned and sprinted past him, her hair flowing behind her. Halfway to the main cabin, she waved back to him.

“See ya there!”

—

Regret. Sooo much regret. Everyone was a drunken mess. Nay, a frenzy. And Jack wasn’t too far behind. At first he’d been lightly sipping his drink, but it seemed like every inane comment from you drove him to take in more than he intended.

“No no no, you don’t understand. I’m the lifeguard right? Why do these kids come to me like I’m their guidance counselor?” You said.

“You are a counselor!” One of the others replied.

“Yeah but I help with activities and shit, not talk to these kids about why no one will date them at fucking middle school age- like kid! You better go and do some homework!”

Everyone roared with laughter.

“And they’re just gonna sneak in each others’ cabins later sooo-”

“Maybe,” Jack blurted suddenly, “Maybe they wouldn’t be doing that if you educated them properly for once, Y/N.”

You shake your head, “I’m not their sex ed teacher, Jack. Miss me with that.”

“Will you let me finish? If you just did. Your. Jooob,” He smacks his hand in his palm in tune with his words, “then I wouldn’t have to pick up your slack for every time you fuck up!”

The counselors made a collective ‘oohhh’ noise. Things were heating up. Even Skylar watched with interest.

“Oh, okay now we’re getting into it- hold my drink, Ian.” You said, handing your drink to your boyfriend,who drank less out of the whole crowd. Jack also passed his drink to someone.

“Jack, you’ve been on my ass since day one. And you’re just mad that the kids don’t think you’re fun anymore.”

His hazel eyes constricted, “What?”

You shrug coolly.

“You’re out of your mind! They think I’m fun!”

“You’re around those kids waaay too damn much, Jack,” You chuckle, “You got something you’re not telling us?”

“Fuuuck you- FUCK YOU-” He hissed, pointing a gloved finger at you. Skylar pat Ian behind your back and gave him an expectant look. Ian nodded and shook your shoulder lightly, “Baby, that’s a little too far.”

“Yeah, don’t be mean,” Skylar added.

“It’s not my fault he can’t take a little ribbing.” You teased.

The clown rose from his seat, “Oh, I’ll give you ribbing you little-”

A couple of male counselors went to hold him back, but it wasn’t an easy feat. Jack was fucking massive and he almost would’ve gotten to you if not have for the third counselor grappling him from the back of his neck.

Guess he wouldn't be driving anyone home.

—

A massive fucking hangover washed over Jack the day after. He stumbled over his feet as he stepped out of bed. He went to the bathroom and switched on the light. It was a pain on his eyes when he struggled to focus on the mirror. All his makeup was washed off. He was in a regular white tee and his boxers.

He then spotted a blue sticky note on the side of his mirror that read:

Your costume is in the cabinet. Don’t go so hard today, Jack! - SKY

He breathed a laugh. Fuck, he loved her.

When he is dressed in his costume he checks the time and he cringes to see it’s nearly the afternoon. But when he goes outside he’s nearly surprised to see everything is just as it was the day before. Knowing his fellow counselors – knowing Skylar – they had probably just wanted him to rest easy. But it ached to just how easily everyone got along without him…

Everyone had been at their usual stations, guiding the kids, participating in activities… except for you. Your high chair was empty.

Of course.

He walked around to greet everyone and smiled when a few kids from the younger cabins came up to greet him.

“We thought you were gone!” A little girl cried.

“We thought you left us!”

Jack scoffed, “Me? Nooo, I’d never abandon this place. That means I’d leave my kids and we can’t have that right?” Saying this, he ruffled their hair. They laughed, gave him a hug, and went back to their assigned counselors.

Right after, the head counselor, Bill, had come up to greet him. With a smile he slapped him on the back, “Look at you fresh faced and starry eyed! I was worried you were gonna be out of commission for the day.”

Jack shook his head, “Oh no, sir. Not when there’s so much work to be done!”

“That’s nice, well you needn't worry about that for a bit, we’ve got somebody on it.” Bill said.

“...Who?”

He said your name and Jack paled, “She’s got it handled! She doesn’t do much at that chair when she’s on lifeguard duty so Skylar suggested we put ‘er on her feet for a while.”

“That… That’s great, sir.” Jack smiled weakly, something Bill didn’t miss. He puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Now son, I know you kids’ don’t always see eye to eye, but Y/N’s a real swell girl when you get to know her.”

“But why should I?” Jack snapped suddenly, “Why do I need to know her, so she can be nice?!”

“Hey I’m nice!”

The two men looked to the trail near them where you led a line of young teens. Bill pat him on the back before usurping the kids from you and leading them to lunch. You were dressed in a self-made crop top from your original camp shirt and some jean shorts with sneakers. You were somewhat pretty if he looked past your general awfulness. But he didn’t wanna explore you any more than that. Clenching his fists, he started heading in the direction of the cafeteria. But, typical you, you didn’t take the hint and saddled up alongside him.

“Hey.” You said.

“...”

“We should probably hurry up and squash this, the counselors’ are on my ass today. Skylar too.”

“Good.” He remarked bitterly, “I hope they’re on your a- tail- the rest of the summer.”

“Hey, hey- Sunny, hold on!” You step in front of him, blocking his path from the door. He tried to go around you but you kept side stepping him, refusing to let him through. He had half a mind to throw you aside, but he’d have to contain himself. For Bill. The other counselors. Hell, the whole camp. He groaned, steeling himself for whatever drivel you were about to spout.

“Okay so,” You began, “I admit I’m a bitch.”

“No, really?” Jack replied dryly.

“Really. I haven’t been… all that cool to you. Especially last night. But I swear I was only ripping on you a bit, and aside from that alcohol gets me crazy so-”

“This doesn’t sound like an apology.” Jack interrupted.

“Lemme finish, lemme finish!” You urged, “I thought I was only being a bitch in like- a cool way, y’know? And I mean, we’re both adults so… I thought you’d get it?”

Tik tok, Y/N, tik tok.

“I’m sorry,” You said quickly, “okay? I’m so so fucking sorry. And the drinking… It's no excuse because I was being a bitch bitch, not a cool bitch. And I used it as like, more of a booster to my incredible bitchiness so-”

Jack put his hand up, stopping your ridiculous apology, “Alright alright. Apology accepted. Let’s get the hell inside.”

You sidestepped him again, “Wait, no.”

He blinked rapidly before settling his gaze on you with a hard look, “Excuse me?”

“Skylar. She’s been gone awhile, arranging things in the shed.” You said. A flicker of concern flashed across his face.

“Is she alright?” He asked.

“Yeah! She texted me a bit ago. She might need some help though.” You wiggled your brows suggestively.

“...What?”

“Go. Go help her!” Saying that, you shoved his arm opposite to the cafeteria. And for whatever reason he followed your insistent hassling.

He was halfway to the shed, which was right along the forest. He’d gone and fetched things from the shed a number of times but the thought of Skylar being all alone… he didn’t like it. And he couldn’t help but wonder: while your apology was half assed, you seemed to be way more sincere when pushing him in your friends’ direction. Were you trying to …help him with her?

No. No, now that he thought about it, it was more likely you were trying to hook them up.

For some reason that made him snicker.

The thought that counts, I guess.

Soon enough he reaches the supply shed. And for some reason he feels his stomach churn.

He took the opportunity to adjust his hair and jacket, before raising his fist to knock on the door.

“Ian- shit..!”

Jack’s whole body went still. That was…Skylar’s voice. And he was certain of the name she said. Your boyfriends’ name.

He listened further. There was shuffling in the cabin, and creaking. And moaning.

“Yeah..! Right there!”

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, Sky…”

He was sure of it now. That was Ian’s voice. And they were…

Without thinking, he burst into the shed. There was a shriek from the two of them. They stumbled over their feet trying to cover themselves. Ian fumbled with his pants, covering up that flaccid dick of his. Skylar went for her camp counselor shirt. Her shorts and panties were around her ankles. Her black bra pulled over her breasts…

“Wh-What the fuck?!” Skylar shrieked, “Get out of here!”

“Hold on! Hold on,” Ian said, trying to calm her down. Fully dressed, he started to approach the stagnant clown. “You won’t tell Y/N about this, will you-”

Jack struck him across the face. Skylar shrieked as her lover fell to the hard wood and she tried to make a run for it. Before she could reach the door though, he grabbed her by the hair – her beautiful blonde hair – and pulled her back in the shed. No one could hear their screams for miles.

#somethings wrong with sunny day jack #sunny day jack x reader #sdj x reader #sunny day jack #sunny day jack x you #sdj x you #swwsdj #sdj jack #sunny day jack fanfiction #swwsdj x reader #summer camp au #camp counselor au #slasher au #the lifeguard #my fics

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avocado-writing · 2 years

Note

Undercover and photograph prompt for Tangerine pleeeeaaaseeee

@wanderedaway @venusthepirate (lmk if you wanna be tagged for these prompts!)

[ UNDERCOVER ] : while pretending to be a couple for the sake of a mission or other purpose, sender and receiver find themselves giving a Remarkably Convincing performance that leaves them questioning how platonic they really are.

[ PHOTOGRAPH ] : as someone volunteers to take a picture of them on a day out, sender instinctively wraps an arm around the receiver to steady them, holding them close for a photo that turns out to be more romantic than they were expecting.

Warning: canon typical swears

🍊

The party is loud, obnoxious, and downright suffocating. But, it’s where your target is. So here you fucking are.

“I hate all this bollocks.”

“I know, Tan,” you sigh, scanning the room once again, “you’ve only told me fifteen or sixteen times.”

Tangerine huffs, following your lead and looking around. Being salt-of-the-earth, working class folk means you feel deeply uncomfortable in the midst of all the posh cunts. The “I dress only in black, and my shoes alone cost the same as a downpayment for a house”-type. Tangerine is marginally more at ease, though you still notice the condescension with which members of the crowd regard his garish jewellery.

“You see him?”

“Not yet.” You do wish the bastard would hurry up and show. It’s awfully rude to be late to his own assassination. A waiter with a tray walks by and Tangerine grabs a pair of champagne flutes, offering one out to you.

“Ah, I dunno, Tan. Probably shouldn’t drink on the job.”

“Look at this place. At this point, we’re standing out if we don’t drink,” Tangerine reasons. You suppose you can’t fight him on that, considering the drunken guffaws that you hear across the room. Your fingers touch as he passes you the glass, and the two of you retract your hands quickly.

A moment of something dances between you, like electricity.

“You look lovely tonight, by the way,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Tan, you don’t have to -”

“It’s true. You’re… fucking stunning, actually, love.”

You’re not sure if you believe that, but you have to admit your outfit is a cut above what you usually wear. You don’t tend to go in for dresses, usually; they’re too restrictive especially when you need to run and shoot. But this one is lovely. Figure-hugging with cutouts either side, exaggerating your figure and leaving some skin on show. It’s a bit daring, actually. And the fact Tangerine likes it too makes your cheeks feel hot.

You’re rudely ripped from the moment.

“Hello, gorgeous,” you feel a hand on your elbow, “to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

You fight back a recoil as you turn to face the person who’s addressing you. An older gentleman, sweating and blustering, and looking you up and down like you’re a piece of meat. You fix him with a demure smile and step back into Tangerine’s waiting embrace.

“Johnson. Mrs Johnson, I’m here with my husband,” you say. Tangerine’s hand alights on your hip as yours goes up to caress his face behind you. The newcomer looks a bit put out, but quickly recovers.

“I see. Newlyweds I take it?”

Perhaps he just doesn’t expect this level of affection from any long-married couple. You must be faking it pretty well, then.

Yes. Faking it.

“Two months,” you say, wiggling your fingers to show off the prop diamond wedding ring.

“Ahh, lucky man. She’s a beauty, this one.”

You don’t like being discussed as if you can’t hear what he’s saying, but the way Tangerine’s hand tightens suggests you’re not going to have to fight this battle yourself.

“Yes, I am lucky. Now kindly fuck off and stop talking about my wife like she’s property.”

The man harrumphs, but doesn’t know what to say - so he disappears into the crowd while fuming. You smile into your champagne.

“How noble.”

“Well, he was a special breed of cunt.”

You snort with laughter and fizz comes out your nose, leaving Tangerine to grin down at you.

“Picture?”

Gosh, you do wish people would stop talking to you. But an event photographer has clearly eyed that you’re the most attractive couple in the room and gravitated for a good shot.

“Why not,” you reply. Just before his flash goes off you tug Tangerine down for a kiss.

Might as well immortalise the night, even if it is just an act.

#Tangerine x reader #tension prompts

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mrsmess · 7 months

Text

falafel

the way you were just there at that hole in the wall when you shouldn’t even have been there at all and neither should I, but there I was just because my kid got out early and it was a toss between going home or staying in town we rarely get out, we should hang around let’s go get a falafel it’s the only city in the country where you can get a decent one for reasonable money it’s easily done so we gotta get a falafel and sit outside in the setting sun it’s not a big city on a international scale and I’m bad at math it's the one class I failed but there are three hundred thousand people living here and that’s a lot or at least enough so the chance of running into someone you know is not that high or even there but you were there and so was I I was stunned even when you said my name before you told me chance is why you came

a motorcycle thundered by you said I hate that and I said why are you sitting by a heavily trafficked street in a city where you don’t even stay and told my kid of the place where you live it’s real pretty but real far away I went to visit you there when I was nineteen and in a relationship with a boy who was mean and who tagged along and sulked the whole time but your wife was really kind to me and you don’t appreciate that when you’re young and blind you spoke to my kid in that way of yours you’re really good with them which is of course obvious that you’d be when you work as much as you do with them we ate our falafel, spilled food everywhere and loud, obnoxious music filled up the air you told my kid about your girls who where in a big contest the other year my kid said I don’t remember them I always root for the old, bald men I smiled and told you you should enter the contest then but you already did back when I was a kid and you sang that cheesy song with your awful ex wife you were on television but out of my life

next thing I know we’re in your car, you say you have to drive me home and I let you because that’s what we are to each other even if it’s been years since I met you you say you’ve thought about me and I say I think about you all the time too but leave out all my mixed feelings because we’re in a car and driving fast and I already know the moment won’t last we won’t have time enough to discuss the important stuff when are we supposed to? you ask about mom and I say she’s good even if she’s waiting for surgery for some reason at sixty miles per hour I commit perjury I remember when you left and how she cried even if she said she didn’t love you right I talk about my dad, and you say who is your dad again? it’s a joke because my dad is no more a father to me than other men my grandpa for example tried to fill his shoes and you at one point though that was a game you could only lose but you don’t mention yourself in this equation even if you were part of the situation and maybe neither of you were to blame but in this one crucial way you’re all the same Grandpa was too old, you were too young and my daddy was simply too far gone all of you went away for too long

my kid talks in the backseat and I try to divide my attention and give you direction at one point you almost miss an exit and say something sarcastic about my instruction in an infuriatingly ironic tone of voice when neither then nor now gave me a choice I did not ask to be put in this seat and for a beat I’m convinced that you have some feelings to work through regarding me and my mom, some residue and also that I would be willing to do that with you if you would only ask me to but you won’t and I don’t expect you to come in when we’re parked and I invite you to come through as expected you say no and that it’s time to go and maybe you don’t care or you do but don’t think it’s fair to share because to you I’m still four and either way you stack the years you’ll always have seventeen more when we met we were really just two kids at different ages now we’re adults at different grieving stages

I get out of the car, say thanks for the ride and give my love to your spouse and I take my kid’s hand and head for our house I want to say I love you and hate you and why did you abandon me? instead I swallow the sting and cling to common sense laugh about the crazy coincidence like that and destiny isn’t the same thing

#a poem #poetry #stuff I’ll never tell my family and friends #if my life wasn’t rhyming it would simply be true and that is unacceptable

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metize · 2 years

Text

Serious Agency Business (Erwin Pries x GN! Reader) (NSFW)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Mildly Dubious Consent (because Erwin doesn’t know you’re watching him)

Additional Tags: Accidental Voyeurism, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Masturbation, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Reader-Insert, Strangerville (The Sims), Spies & Secret Agents, Glasses, Mildly Dubious Consent

Summary:

You were blushing furiously, not daring to turn off the listening device. You should turn it off, you really should. You shouldn't just sit there and listen to Erwin masturbate. It was an invasion of privacy, it was breaking his trust! And it was mishandling of agency equipment.

You were on the clock for fuck's sake.

You're the agent in charge of monitoring Erwin's listening device and he's jerking off to a picture of you.

Kinktober 2022 - Day 3: Glasses

You felt bad about lying to Erwin, of course you did. He had been so nice to you ever since you moved to Strangerville, you wondered if he'd hate you if he found out you were a government agent.

You had convinced him, among other people, that you were a lawyer, never elaborating too much on the subject to avoid getting caught in any inconsistencies. You tried to appease Erwin's worries about the lab or the military presence whenever mentioned it, but you felt a sting of guilt every time you dismissed his theories.

The friendship you formed with him had nothing to do with your job, that is until the agency ordered you to monitor the listening devices placed on high-risk individuals. One such individual was none other than neighborhood paranoid ginger, Erwin Pries. When you got this assignment you froze in place, you knew Erwin was being monitored, hell it was hard to miss the tracking device blinking obnoxiously on his vest, you weren’t sure how he never noticed. That being said, you knew you were supposed to keep tabs on Erwin. What made it worse was the fact you were harboring a crush on him, you couldn't help but find his quirky nature and nervous speculation charming.

You accepted your mission, working dutifully on it like any other, as was part of your job. You reached into your bag to grab your glasses as you sat in front of three monitors inside the agency’s HQ. You pulled the glasses out the bag, but immediately realized these weren’t your reading glasses, you recognized the wide lenses and blocky black frame, this belonged to Erwin.

You groaned in annoyance at your mistake, you had visited him before work because he wanted to show you a secret dossier he had gotten his hands on and you grabbed his spare glasses by mistake instead of yours. You put them on and immediately regretted it, your eyes getting assaulted by the high prescription on the lens.

You pulled up your phone to snap a picture wearing them, making a peace sign with your hand. You took them off so you could see your phone screen and send Erwin the picture. Before typing out the message you put on your headset, feeling a little bit guilty about wanting to listen in on Erwin’s reaction to the pic. You tune into his listening device, you heard some mouse clicking sounds, it made sense he was at home on his computer. You grabbed your phone again and sent him a text.

“Grabbed these on accident 😣 sorry” You attached the picture and hit send.

Through the headset speakers you heard the notification ping announcing he got the text. You heard him shift to grab his phone and unlock the screen.

–

Erwin gripped the phone harder on his hand and sighed with a smile.

"Ha, they look so cute…" He leaned back on his chair, double tapping the photo to make it fullscreen.

He'd seen them in their reading glasses before, this wasn't about that. It was because they were wearing his glasses, something that belonged to him.

He sighed again and allowed himself to press his palm against his crotch. He felt his cock hardening under his touch. He imagined you wearing his t-shirt too, waking up next to you wearing his stuff because you were too tired to find yours. You'd be wearing nothing underneath, the edge of his shirt would be just long enough to hide your sex, teasing his gaze.

"Ah… Y/N…" he breathed out before pulling down his pants just enough to get his cock out. –

There was no way this was happening.

You were on the clock for fuck's sake.

"You feel so good, Y/N…" you heard him moan, listening in as the man jerked himself off.

Everytime he said your name like that, it sent a wave of arousal straight between your legs, but there was no way you'd try to relieve yourself, there were cameras in this room you couldn't afford to just touch yourself in the agency’s headquarters. All you could do was sit there and listen.

You crossed your legs trying to alleviate some of the pressure as you listened to the rythmic sound of skin slapping against skin.

–

Erwin couldn’t stop thinking about having his marks on you, leaving hickeys on your skin, nail scratches on your back, all these thoughts of having you wear things that belonged to him escalated into him imagining other ways of claiming ownership of you.

"Fuck…" he groaned, fucking his fist faster. He looked at your picture, holding the phone with his free hand, he imagined cumming all over your face while you wore his glasses, white spurts contrasting with the black frame.

A low moan escaped his lips as he felt himself closer to coming. He aimed his tip above the phone screen, the thought of spilling on your picture bringing him even closer to the edge. He repeated your name like a mantra, his voice raspy and breath uneven.

"Fuck… I'm coming… Y/N… fuck…" he groaned, the orgasm hitting him all at once, making him cum over your pixelated face just the way he wanted to.

–

You covered your mouth with your hand, your leg shaking as you heard Erwin cum calling your name right next to your ear. You were so frustrated all you wanted to do was to drive to his place and ask him a for a round two.

You listened as he went to grab a towel to clean his mess, only to get a text a few minutes later.

"Haha, no worries you can come by anytime to swap them for yours." He sent.

You shook your head smiling, responding immediately.

"Yeah, don't worry, I will."

#THERE YOU GO #IT'S HERE #erwin pries #sims 4 townies #sims 4 erwin #sims 4 #the sims erwin #erwin pries x reader

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haikyuucute · 4 years

Text

Untamable (Ushijima Wakatoshi) [Omegaverse AU]

Pairing: Alpha!Ushijima x omega!reader

Summary: You seemed like an untamable omega to Ushijima

Warnings: Sexual themes, implied smut

Word Count: 5.6k

[A/N]: So I’ve been rlly iffy about posting this bcuz I know that this au isn’t everyone’s favorite. But I rlly like this au and I have fun writing for it, so I figured if someone doesn’t like it then they can scroll past it or blacklist the tag ‘omegaverse’ anyway, so I decided to go ahead and post this

Ushijima Wakatoshi liked order and he liked things that made sense. He was a simple man and he would call it like he’d see it.

And what made sense to him was the dynamic system. Alphas were placed at the top, then betas, then omegas.

He believed this was right because it was ingrained in everyone’s genetics to follow this order.

It was why Hinata Shouyou had affected him so deeply. He was small, his volleyball technique was a mess and yet he and Karasuno beat Shiratorizawa.

Ushijima considered himself to be a very strong alpha— possibly the strongest in Shiratorizawa. His presence commanded every area he was in and omegas would fall silent at his scent, waiting for him to speak first. He had even been dubbed the alpha of alphas in school.

So it didn’t make sense for Hinata to have so much baseless confidence. It annoyed him and got under his skin to the point he thought about it quite often and how he could win next time.

Another thing that got under his skin was the little omega he shared a couple classes with— only she annoyed him far more than Hinata did.

Because while the little orange haired boy was a weak alpha, he was still just that. An alpha.

And yet, you walked around with the confidence of an alpha.

You were definitely the outcast, most omegas found you annoying and most alphas didn’t like to bother with an omega that didn’t know their place. Your scent wasn’t sweet and delicate like an omega’s either, it was tangy and citrusy (not at all a bad smell, even Ushijima would admit it was nice, just not that of an omegas). And worst of all, if you stepped out of line and an alpha tried to put you back in your place, you’d stick up your nose, turn the other way around, and continue with what you were doing in the first place.

This behavior always sat wrong with him but he never had to come into close contact with you, he’d just catch instances of this in class or in the hallways. Always hating the way you demanded to be seen.

And Ushijima knew he wasn’t in the wrong because everyone had found you strange. You didn’t even have any friends until your third year of high school when you shared your first class with the renowned Guess Monster.

Tendou, Ushijima, and you all shared a science class your third year, and though Ushijima had prior knowledge of you, it was the first time Tendou ever really noticed you.

And being dubbed a freak himself, Tendou immediately wanted to befriend you and it was only a short while after that he noticed how much you got under Ushijima’s skin.

So as a fellow freak and probably the only person other than Hinata that could get a rise out of the usually stoic alpha— well, Tendou just had to become your best friend.

Thus it began.

Tendou inviting you to work on group projects with him and Ushijima.

Tendou then inviting you to watch practices.

Tendou invited you to games.

And worst of all— Tendou invited you to hang out in his and Ushijima’s dorm.

And you quickly became someone Ushijima had to endure all day, every day.

You knew right from the beginning when you started hanging out with Tendou that the great Ushiwaka didn’t want anything to do with you. If you tried to talk to him he’d answer with four words at most or blatantly ignore you all together (then again he did that with everyone, but with you it just somehow felt different). And that was because although he was a strong alpha, he had better things to do than put an omega back in their place.

So he put up with you for days— weeks— months— until suddenly he couldn’t.

In what Tendou liked to call the “staring contest of the year” you had outwardly challenged Ushijima. But!— in your defense it was on an outrageously ridiculous subject that you believed you had the right to believe and that Ushijima should’ve respected that regardless of his own biases.

It was an argument that took place in their dorm while the two of them were there. You had casually walked in, an agitated look on your face, exclaiming:

”I hate alphas!” You yelled, pushing their door open. You ignored Ushijima who sent you a slightly irritated glance from where he was seated at his desk, reading a volleyball magazine or something, and went immediately over to the giggling Tendou.

He was up on his bed on the top bunk and you climbed the ladder, seating yourself next to where he was sprawled out, with a pout on your face.

”Should I be offended~” he laughed.

”You don’t count.”

”That’s more offensive than your last statement.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, you’re the exception— but alphas suck.”

He moved closer, throwing an arm around you with a large grin, “Did something happen? Do tell, (F/N)-chan~” he sang.

“Well... I may have gotten into another fight with an omega.”

”Ohoho~ did you win?”

”I guess. She pulled my hair so I punched her and... found out she has a mate.”

Tendou burst into another fit of laughter, and started poking your side, “Did you try fighting an alpha again?”

You swatted his hands away, “I just stood up for myself.”

”And how’d that go?”

”Stupid. He came up to me and did that dumb alpha thing where they stand up straighter and puff their chests out with the expectation that I’d be a cowering little omega in their presence,” you scoffed, “He told me that I shouldn’t step out of line and start fights with mated omegas, which is total bullshit because she pulled my hair first!” You yelled, falling back against his bed. “I hate alphas!”

“You punched his mate,” Ushijima who usually ignored you whenever you were over spoke up for the first time.

You furrowed your eyebrows, propping yourself up on your elbows, “Yeah, cause she pulled my hair.”

”She was wrong too.”

You scoffed, “So what? The alpha was in the right?”

”You punched his mate, he was protecting her.”

You shot up and glared at Ushijima who was still reading his magazine. ”Well I was protecting myself.” You practically hissed out.

Ushijima finally stopped what he was doing and turned around to stare up at you from where you were seated on Tendou’s bed.

Tendou’s eyes flitted back and forth between the two of you, seeing how pissed off you were, and at how Ushijima was taken aback at the tone you used with him, and Tendou’s grin slowly widened.

”You speak as if you’re an alpha,” Ushijima said, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

”I speak like an omega who’s fed up with alphas,” you spat back.

Ushijima slowly stood up and you could smell his scent had changed. It was stronger and more powerful— definitely covering up yours and some of Tendou’s scent. And you could pretty much smell how annoyed and pissed he was with you.

And as a result you felt the omega in you want to apologize and take everything back, bowing your head down, too weak to make eye contact. It was a feeling you had become quite accustomed to with how often alphas did this to you, and you became quite good at ignoring those instincts.

But Ushijima was stronger than all those alphas, and Tendou watched in awe as the most strong willed omega he’s ever met started to shrink in her seat, eyes glued to her lap.

Ushijima stood in front of you, and due to his height he was nearly eye level with you despite you sitting up on the top bunk.

“You’re careless,” He spoke lowly, as blunt as ever, “You speak the first thing that comes to mind with no regard if you offend someone, and you’re surprised when an alpha tries to put you back in your place. You’re an omega.” His voice loud and firm, “Power does not lean in your favor. Learn your place.”

You bit down on your lip hard, finding it difficult to meet his eyes but with everything you had in you, you forced yourself up straight and looked him dead in the eye.

Tendou’s eyes widened at your display but he kept quiet, glancing at how the usually stoic Ushijima looked slightly thrown off guard.

“I will never settle for being submissive,” you spoke slowly, never breaking your eye contact, “And I will never stop striving for independence. You like this power system because it’s all you’ve ever known— I’ll show you that you’re wrong and I’ll do whatever it takes.”

From there the two of you stared at each other for what felt like forever, Tendou holding his breath to see who would give in first. Until it was finally time to go to volleyball practice and Ushijima was forced to look away, making you smile triumphantly.

And so it began. The start of an overly exhausting plan that you were committed to executing.

And if Ushijima thought you were a nuisance before it was nothing compared to now.

A few days after the incident you acted as if it never happened, putting on a cheery and energetic façade. And you actually spoke to him in that same friendly manner you spoke to Tendou and others on the team.

He soon realized there would be no end to your chatter. You’d go on and on about your day, shows and movies you liked, hobbies that you were into, and you’d ask him tons and tons of questions that he’d just ignore but you wouldn’t shut up, forcing him to answer your questions— you even started calling him Waka-kun while you remained (L/N)-san.

But you didn’t care. You vowed that you’d force your way into his heart until he finally saw you as an equal instead of an overly obnoxious omega.

It took months but somehow, by some kind of miracle, Ushijima came to the conclusion... you actually weren’t that bad.

Of course you were still loud, kind of annoying, and spoke out of turn most of the time. But he guessed that some of your better qualities started sticking out the more you hung around him.

For one, you were always happy.

Happiness wasn’t an emotion Ushijima felt often, he knew the feeling of victory when he defeated a difficult opponent in volleyball but that never lasted that long because, well— Ushijima always won...(for the most part). And he knew what it felt like to be satisfied and generally content.

But the happiness you exuded. This absolutely boundless amount of energy and cheerfulness you walked around with despite being put down by practically the entire student body, it made you slightly more admirable in his eyes.

And then he saw your loyalty and devotion towards the team and specifically Tendou. By definition, Tendou was technically your best friend and you made sure to prioritize him in your life because of how grateful you were to call him a friend, this meant inviting him out places and never turning down an invitation he made. You let him talk to you when he was down and comforted and supported him appropriately. And when it came to the team, you were kind of an honorary manager (you didn’t actually have the title because the coach would never trust an omega to do the job) but you gave them water bottles and towels during practice and made sure to attend all their games and cheer for them. So even the team who had been kind of cold to you in the beginning, ended up growing rather fond of you, and you were just as happy to consider them your friends.

But he supposed what stuck out to him the most was how determined you were to be more acquainted with him. You’d ask about his day, his childhood, volleyball, anything really. And you somehow had the ability to pull more than a couple words from his mouth as time went on.

And all from the shadows, the Guess Monster was watching. Observing how a very odd friendship grew between the two of you. And although Ushijima rarely let any emotion of any kind show, after three months Tendou made an educated guess.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was actually falling for you.

From a surface level no one could really tell, but Tendou started picking up on the way Ushijima’s scent would change whenever you were near, it’d grow softer, and slightly more non threatening than his usual scent. It was a small detail but spoke volumes. Other than that, he noticed more and more how he grew comfortable around you, letting you talk his ear off and he’d answer your questions with more than three words. But what gave it away for him was when he had stepped into one of your fights where an omega started yelling at you for acting too much like an alpha. It was the first time he had ever done it and although you told him you could fight your own battles, he doubted it would be the last fight Ushijima broke up for you.

With you it was actually harder to tell if you were starting to like Ushijima back, and this was based off of all your rants he’s heard about you never wanting to mate with an alpha and that you’d much rather mate with a beta. It was hard to picture you with an alpha and even harder to picture you with an alpha as strong as Ushijima.

But he, figured out that yes— you did reciprocate those feelings when he caught a certain sight.

You went out with Tendou and Ushijima one night and stayed up late, you were absolutely exhausted so Ushijima ended up giving you a piggyback ride back to your dorm. And that’s when Tendou noticed the way you nuzzled your face into his neck. He couldn’t tell if you were trying to scent yourself or if you just found his scent soothing enough to fall asleep to— but either way there were definitely mutual feelings there.

The only problem was that the two of you were too dense to acknowledge those feelings.

So as usual Tendou decided to take it upon himself to get the two of you closer.

He came up with a fairly simple but hopefully effective plan.

Not that long ago you came to Tendou and asked if he’d been willing to give you volleyball lessons every now and then after you came to really admire the sport after watching them play for so long. And he agreed of course.

So now it was just a matter of getting Ushijima to take his place—

“I won’t be able to make our volleyball lesson (F/N)-chan,” Tendou suddenly spoke up from where he laid on the floor.

He watched as your head poked over the top bunk where you lay, a pout on your face, “What? Why not?” You whined.

”I’ll be busy this weekend, but!” He suddenly exclaimed, looking over at Ushijima, “Maybe Wakatoshi-kun could take my place.”

”No,” came Ushijima’s answer, from where he sat on his bed.

Tendou frowned at how dense he could be.

You pouted further, “Waka-kun would be mean about it if he helped me anyway.”

”Don’t be silly—“

”I’m not! I can picture it now!” You suddenly made a very serious face, mimicking Ushijima’s, “(L/N)-chan you have awful technique. (L/N)-chan you understand nothing about volleyball. (L/N)-chan you suck.”

Tendou giggled at that, seeing your point, “You’d also be getting taught by a top player in the nation~” he sang.

You paused for a moment, thinking it over, “... We’d probably get in a fight though and I hate arguing with him.”

”You hate it because you lose,” Ushijima spoke up.

”Shut up!” You yelled, moving to hang over the edge of the bed to see him.

He glanced up at your upside down form, “l’m right.”

And since he was always painfully blunt and honest, you knew he actually was right, so you settled on pouting further.

”Y’know people would kill to have someone like Wakatoshi teach them volleyball,” Tendou said, continuing to convince you, “He’s the best of the best, don’t you want to be the best~”

”I’m not that passionate about volleyball,” you deadpanned.

He faltered, until a thought struck him, and he grinned, “Remember that time you tagged along with the team to the beach and we were short one person for volleyball and asked you to play?”

You glared darkly at him for reminding you about that humiliating incident— they were a powerhouse school after all, why the hell would they ask you to play when you had barely any experience. “Yes,” you muttered.

”Well what if Wakatoshi-kun taught you a few of his tricks and you got to show off next time we play together.”

He knew he had you when your eyes widened in realization.

You looked back down at Ushijima from where you hung upside down, “Waka-kun teach me volleyball.”

”No,” he replied, looking down at his homework.

”Please.”

”No.”

”Please.”

”No.”

”Please.”

”No.”

“Ugh— why notttt,” you whined.

”Because you don’t play volleyball.”

”Well I want to show off to the team the next time you guys force me to play.”

”You still wouldn’t be as good as them.”

You frowned, “I already know that, but you don’t always have to say the truth.”

Ushijima couldn’t help himself when he looked back up at you, something in your tone bothering him. And the pout and look in your eyes really bothered him for some reason. But he didn’t like being the cause of it and he really wanted to see it leave your face.

“Fine,” he gave in. He watched as your face instantly lit up, a smile gracing your features and it admittedly made him feel weirder than when you were upset.

You flipped off the top bunk to Ushijima’s bed and threw your arms around his shoulders in a hug, “Thank you Waka-kun~” you sang.

And Tendou grinned from ear to ear, watching as Ushijima’s face tinted the lightest of pinks.

——

“You’re late,” Ushijima grunted as he watched you burst through the gym doors, trying to catch your breath.

”I know!” You panted, “I got held up by a teacher.” You said, throwing your bag to the ground. You made your way over to Ushijima who was previously practicing by himself as he waited. “Now, you can’t be mean remember, this is just for fun. It’s not like I’m gonna be using this in any actual tournaments, this is just to shut the team up the next time they make fun of me for sucking at volleyball.”

He nodded and the two of you started.

You quickly figured out that playing volleyball with Ushijima was very different than when you’d play with Tendou. Tendou was always goofing around and joking with you but with Ushijima he was unsurprisingly very serious, so it was up to you to lighten the mood. But you had to admit he was a pretty good teacher and kept the rude comments to a minimum, which was a feat on its own because he very rarely censored himself and you knew you weren’t doing to well.

It was well into the hour when shit finally hit the fan.

Ushijima asked you to toss him the ball to demonstrate him hitting a spike. So you did and as usual because of his strong spikes, the ball ended up rolling off, landing by your bag on the other side of the gym.

You offered to go get it, and in hindsight you really wished you did. But Ushijima said it was fine and went off to grab the ball.

When he went to pick it up, he noticed the zipper of your bag was opened and something inside caught his eye. He glanced back at you to see you looking down at your phone, before he brought his attention back to the object and pulled it out. His eyebrows furrowed.

It was a pill bottle and the label told him they were heat suppressants. But that wasn’t what caught his eye.

The date said they were prescribed about a month ago and the bottle was already three quarters gone.

He stood up straight and turned, “What are these?” He called out to you, making you look up.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Idiot, are you going through my bag? Put those back and get back over here.” You rolled your eyes.

He only listened to half of what you said as he held the bottle and walked back, “(L/N)-chan, what is this?”

You looked at him confusedly, “They’re heat suppressants or did you forget that I’m an omega and go through heats?”

”More than half of them are gone.”

You faltered, realizing he checked the date on them. But you played it cool and shrugged, “So?”

”It’s dangerous to have that many suppressants in a month.”

You rolled your eyes, “What? Are you suddenly an omega now? They’re my pills, I can use them how I want.”

You could see Ushijima getting frustrated now, “The side effects of this many can be harmful to your body.”

”I’m fine— I’m more than fine. I haven’t had to go through a heat in a while and I’ve been functioning just the same, only it’s better now because I don’t have to deal with heats.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean by ‘a while’?” He asked worried to hear just how long you were putting your body through this. Suppressants were meant to make heats easier, not stop them all together.

“Nothing, it really doesn’t matter,” you said in an attempt to brush it off.

”How long (L/N)-chan?”

You clenched your jaw, looking down at the ground, not answering.

”How long,” his voice became darker and firmer.

You hated it but when he used that tone, you found it difficult to deny, “A....a year.” You muttered.

Ushijima’s eyes widened in shock and horror, and it was probably the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, “You missed four heats?”

”Well.... yeah.”

”You can’t do that to your body—“

”Why not?” You snapped, looking up at him, “It’s my body isn’t it? And my heats are my business. I’ve been completely fine up till now anyway.”

”What about your next heat? You have to have one eventually and if you’ve missed four, your next heat will be unbearable.”

”That’s only for some people,” you scoffed, “I could be completely fine.”

”And if you’re not? You don’t have a mate.”

”Why do you even care!” You huffed.

”Because—“ you’re my omega.

Ushijima completely stopped as the thought popped in his head. He was caught so off guard by that he forgot his argument.

But he did his best to compose himself before stating, “I’m keeping these.”

You scowled, “Like hell you are!” You yelled before leaping for the pill bottle, but he just held it over his head and out of your reach. You grabbed his arm and tried to pull it down but he would barely budge, “Ushijima this isn’t funny!” You yelled out in anger and slight panic.

He ignored the slight sting he felt at hearing his last name, but he didn’t give in, “This is for your own good.”

”Fuck my own good! I need those pills— I can’t go through another heat!”

”You’re an omega,” he snapped, “You can’t keep pretending you’re an alpha. Heats are necessary, learn your place already.”

And there were those words you absolutely despised, ‘learn your place’.

You blinked back the frustrated tears, “I’m leaving,” you scoffed. And with that you quickly ran out, grabbing your bag and leaving a very pissed off alpha behind you.

—

Tendou had no idea how things could get so screwed up the one time he got you two alone together.

You ended up avoiding Ushijima at all costs and Ushijima being who he was was definitely not going to approach you first when he believed he was right.

But Tendou could only handle so much of this stupid fight before trying to convince the two of you to make up.

But you said you’d only forgive him if he gave you your pills back and Ushijima said he wasn’t going to. So when Tendou got you to swear to Ushijima that you’d use them properly was he then able to sway Ushijima into giving them back.

So he did and you forgave him.

Of course there was still some resentment and animosity about the whole thing, but after a couple weeks things were back to normal more or less.

That was until that inevitable day approached.

You hadn’t come to class which wasn’t unusual because you liked to skip every once in a while, so Ushijima and Tendou didn’t think much of it at first.

That was until they overheard a conversation between two omegas not too far from them.

”The entire history hallway literally smells like omega.” The one girl complained.

”Really?” Her friend asked, “What happened.”

She shrugged, “Dunno. I think some omega went into heat, but my god is it strong. I think they locked themselves in a supply closet, there’s a group of as alphas just outside the door.”

”I feel kinda bad. We should tell someone to go help them. Do we know who the omega is?”

”Everyone’s pretty sure it’s (L/N) since the scent is pretty citrusy. Her roommate also told me she takes suppressants like they’re candy so it makes sense.”

Suddenly Ushijima had stood up. Tendou looked up at the alpha with a questioning gaze, but as he watched him just head straight for the door, a grin grew on his face as he knew where this was headed.

—

You were a mess as you hid away inside the supply closet. The heat had randomly hit you out of no where without a single warning. The most you were able to do was quickly lock yourself in the closet. And now you were left trembling in a curled up ball in the corner of the room.

You were hot everywhere and covered in a layer of sweat. Your chest rose and fell in breathy pants and the uncomfortable pool of wetness in your panties was getting really distracting.

And on top of all that, there was a group of alphas just outside calling out to you. You couldn’t make out what they were saying because of how overwhelmed you felt but their scents were definitely accelerating the heat.

And dread filled you at the thought of Ushijima being right. All four heats that you missed just hit you all at once.

This was the most helpless you’ve ever felt.

...Then you smelled it.

A scent far more overpowering than the alphas scents combined. And a scent you knew all to well. Heavy and woody— a scent that made your head spin and squeeze your legs together as a broken whimper left your throat.

The others had scattered in fear, soon leaving you alone with Ushijima Wakatoshi’s scent.

Ushijima walked in, easily breaking the lock. His gaze was intense as usual but there was also something else in his eyes as he found you curled up on the ground of the supply closet, in heat.

And even in the presence of an omega in a heat extreme as yours, Ushijima showed an incredible display over his instincts as he barely seemed bothered by it. The only thing that gave him away was how his breathing slowed, taking in deeper breaths as what was probably the prettiest and most mouth watering scent he ever smelled flooded his senses.

His presence commanded the area and the air reeked of his scent, and as tough as you were, even you fell weak to the presence of an alpha while in heat— and the so called alpha of alphas no less.

Your legs were squeezed tight as you buried your face in your knees, covering your nose from his scent.

”(L/N),” he said, voice deep and a touch of anger in it.

You whimpered, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to fall.

”Waka-kun,” your voice came out weak, broken, and muffled, it had even made Ushijima falter for a second, uneasy seeing you act so helpless. “I-I can’t— I can’t do this,” you shook your head, the tears running down your face now. “I-it’s barely even started and— and th-this feels worse than m-my worst heat.” You sniffled, body trembling and shaking now.

”I told you not to take those suppressants.”

A broken moan came out after hearing his rumbling voice and you squeezed your legs tighter— how embarrassing.

In truth, Ushijima greatly disliked seeing you like this, especially after developing such a fondness over the tough and fiery omega that used to drive him mad (and still does from time to time.) But there was still something he greatly enjoyed with seeing how submissive you were being in front of him— as long as he was the only one that got to see you like this. So what you said next, sparked something in him.

”D...do y-you know an a-alpha that... can help?” Your words were broken up with sobs and stifled moans.

And a strong sense of possessiveness washed over him at the thought of another alpha possibly aiding you through this heat.

”That won’t be necessary,” he spoke curtly, “Stand up,” he said, walking forward.

You clamped your hand tighter over your nose, suffocating on his scent, and you shook your head furiously, “I-I don’t know if I c-can—“

”Stand,” and there was no arguing with the Alpha tone in his voice, your body wouldn’t let you.

So on trembling knees you shakily stood up, holding your breath as you used the wall for support as you leaned against it.

Something wild was overtaking Ushijima’s senses at seeing how fragile and delicate you looked, and he stalked forward, eyes heavy with an intense gaze on you.

And he was now in front of you as you stared down at the ground, waiting for what he’d do next as you tried your best to stay composed by attempting to ignore his presence.

Suddenly, he raised his hand to cup your jaw, his other hand gripping your wrist to pull it away from your nose. And the absolute predatorial look in his eyes would’ve knocked you to your knees if the wall wasn’t there to support you.

He stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping a tear away. “From tonight onwards you’re mine.” He growled before lifting your jaw up further.

You moaned at that and quickly nodded, “I-I’m yours.”

”I don’t care if you always want to fight back as long as you understand that right now, I’m in charge.” He said as his thumb traced your bottom lip before tugging down on it. And the second after you nodded, he crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss.

Your resolve immediately crumbled and you easily melted into the kiss, collapsing into him. A cry left your lips which was promptly swallowed by Ushijima. Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly as you tried rutting against his thigh. But he quickly grabbed ahold of your hips, stilling you.

You whined into his mouth, “Please Waka-kun.”

”Patience,” he commanded, making you quickly shut your mouth. “I’m going to take care of you,” and with that he picked you up.

He walked with you in his arms through the deserted hallway, making his way towards the dormitories, specifically his.

And as he walked through the school building, classes having been just let out, he ignored the stares and stunned silence from his peers as they gawked at the sight of the Alpha of Shiratorizawa Academy walking with the little annoying omega of the school in his arms, who was clearly in heat.

But right now all that was on his mind was getting you back to his dorm safely so he could spend the next how ever many days fucking you until all you could possibly remember was his name.

Ushijima unlocked his dorm door, seeing an already grinning Tendou sitting upon his bed, “Well didn’t this work out nicely?” He teased.

”Tendou I need the—“

He raised his hands in surrender, “I know, I know,” he said getting up, his eyes landing on you for a second, “Definitely a sight I never thought I’d see,” he mused at seeing you so submissive in Ushijima’s arms, before practically singing, “Have fun~” on his way out.

Ushijima kicked the door shut before walking over to his bed and dropping you on it. You were sprawled out on your back, absolutely breathless.

His own breathing was beginning to become more and more labored as your heat was pushing him into a rut.

”You’re going to behave?” He asked.

You nodded, a mewl escaping your lips as you rubbed your thighs together.

”Use your words.”

”Y-yes alpha,” you managed to get out, a glint reaching his eye at the title.

”Good. Now....bare your neck.”

You scrambled to do as he said, and a slight smirk grazed his lips at the sight, a sense of pride, similar to when he won tournaments, washed over him.

You kneeled up on your knees, titling your head to the side for him.

He smiled, cupping the side of your face, before leaning down to mark you.

So yes, Ushijima would put up with your fiery attitude and need to go against everything everyone tells you to do, as long as he’d be the one to get to see you like this.

Because for the first time since he’s known you.

You were finally listening.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #ushijima #omegaverse #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #omegaverse au #a/b/o fanfic #a/b/o #alpha #beta #omega #alpha beta omega #alpha!ushijima #alpha!ushijima wakatoshi #omega!reader #haikyuu omegaverse #hq!! omegaverse

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whumpmatsus · 3 years

Note

So. Todomatsu always ACTS like he hates that Karamatsu is so eccentric, but we all know he actually doesn't mind that much. If anyone else made fun of him for that stuff, I can't help but think he wouldn't let it fly. So what about a situation where Karamatsu gets made fun of/bullied/put down by someone OUTSIDE the family for being the way he be and Todomatsu gets an opportunity to go into full protective mode over him??

OH SHIT the youngest of them goes feral

dare I say... RELEASE THE BABY!!!!!

God I love Zaimoku, it’s so good <3

If Totty is being completely, utterly, unfailingly honest with himself, his brothers need his help if one of them is going to be going on a date.

Really, he’s the only one who has any clue about how to act on a date! He could hit his big brothers over the head with a Clue-by-four with that shit and they still wouldn’t really get it.

Even so… part of him thinks he shouldn’t really be following Karamatsu to a date. Karamatsu is the one Totty knows is never going to come running to him for advice or assistance, especially with girls; he’s got the undeserved ego of an avocado toast sandwich. Totty isn’t sure he’d be pleased to know his baby brother tagged along not because he has to sort out a schedule thing at work, but because he wants to keep an eye on Karamatsu.

What else is he supposed to do, though? Just let Karamatsu go alone and totally blow it? His usual behavior aside, Totty really wants his big brothers to be happy and have fulfilling relationships. He thinks if he can be there to keep an eye on things, well, maybe it won’t go so bad. Maybe Karamatsu will have a shot with this woman. Maybe he’ll get a girlfriend!

The very idea was enough to make him feel a little better about lying so that his brother will take him along. It eases his conscience, imagining that if he manages to help Karamatsu out to the point that the second eldest ends up in a loving, joyful relationship, (obviously as opposed to the past few horrible ones he’s had), then a little fib isn’t so bad, is it?

After all, if he were the one in need of something like this, he’d be grateful for his brothers’ help however they did it.

Of course, when he sees the look this girl gives Karamatsu, a look like the kind a baby gives after licking a lemon for the first time, Totty can’t help but wince. This isn’t off to a great start. He lingers by the counter, greeting Sacchi and Aida, trying not to look as if he’s watching his big brother’s date.

“Aren’t you off today, Totty?” Sacchi hums as she turns to start making a drink.

He nods. “Yeah, well, I can’t stay away, I guess, haha.”

Aida jerks her head toward the table where Karamatsu and his date are. “That’s one of your brothers, right? Still as painful as ever,” she teases. “Is he… oh, my God, he’s on a date??”

“Shhhh, shh!” Totty waves his hands a little, hoping to get his friends to quiet down a little. The last thing Karamatsu needs is to be drawing attention. “He thinks I tagged along to talk to you guys about my schedule. But, yes, he’s here on a date.”

Sacchi finishes serving her customer, one of the few in the shop at the moment, and then leans against the counter to look over. “Aw, good for him. He’s not either of our types, but he deserves a shot with someone who’s interested.”

He lets out a soft sigh. “Agreed there. I kind of just wanna keep an eye on him, you know? To make sure he doesn’t mess it up too much. He should have let me pick his outfit, ugh… that aside, he’s doing okay so far, though, I think.”

Aida frowns as she slides a cup of coffee toward her coworker. “Um, I hate to burst your bubble, but he’s got his work cut out for him. I’ve been to some mixers with that girl, and she always finds something wrong with every guy she hangs out with.”

“She’s right,” Sacchi adds. “Good thing you came along so you can carry him home, ‘cause that girl’s gonna tear him to pieces. I mean, she went out with Atsushi and the next day he was in here crying and telling me she made him feel two inches tall. Nobody’s good enough for her.”

Aida clicks her tongue. “Your big brother’s in big trouble, Totty.”

It’s Totty’s turn to frown as he looks toward Karamatsu. Unfortunately, Sutabaa is so small and he’s close enough that he doesn’t have to strain too much to hear what’s being said.

The woman is laughing. However… Karamatsu hasn’t even really opened his mouth yet. “Oh, my God! You’re my date, huh? Last time I let my sister set me up. That bitch, haha. Ah, well… wow, your jacket is hurting my eyes. Could you take it off?”

Karamatsu seems to be trying his best to smile. “O-oh, yes, of course.” He moves to tug it off, folding it over the back of his chair. “Please forgive me. Anyway, my name is Karamatsu. And you, my angel?”

“Ahaha, WHAT?” The woman raises an eyebrow at him. “C’mon, dude. Don’t call me that. I’m nobody’s angel.”

Totty feels himself starting to steam. You’ve got that right.

“A-ah… right, my apologies.” Karamatsu just keeps smiling. The expression on his face reads almost like he’s in pain. “Well, should we order?”

She gives a cursory glance toward the menu, then suddenly her eyes are drawn to Karamatsu again. “Oh, my God, hold on… is… is that your face on your shirt?! Holy shit! Are you really that full of yourself?”

Totty’s heart sinks as his brother’s cheeks flush bright red. This is not going well. And while, yes, Karamatsu probably should have picked a different shirt, what’s really wrong with what he’s wearing? Even though he’s a little over-the-top and dramatic, this woman can’t know whether or not he’s ‘full of himself’ when she’s barely letting him get a word in.

Totty is the most socially intelligent of his brothers, and even he doesn’t think Karamatsu’s actually doing anything wrong. He hasn’t drawn anyone else’s attention like he usually does, he hasn’t gone overboard with any poses, and he’s… kind of just being himself, slightly toned down. It’s not like he’s bragging or being a jerk. Hell, it’s just a strange fashion choice; how the hell does she think it has any bearing on what he’s like as a person?

“Damn,” Sacchi cringes. “She’s not wasting any time, is she?”

Aida gives a pout toward her friends. “He didn’t even do anything wrong yet. He’s been a perfect gentleman.”

“Yeah, he’s just a little odd and, like, a tiny bit painful. But he’s acting really nice and polite.” Sacchi sighs as she props her head up on her hand. “There’s no pleasing some people. Aida, why don’t you go take their order? Maybe you can accidentally spill it on that pretentious top of hers when you bring it to them.”

“Pfff, if only. I’m on it, though.”

Totty continues to fume as he watches his poor brother try to impress this girl, pretty much in vain. He gets the feeling that nothing Karamatsu says or does is going to be good enough. For some reason, that really pisses him off. Despite the fact that Karamatsu can be a bit much, that he’s overcompensating for being insecure on the inside, that everyone rolls their eyes at him… Karamatsu isn’t a bad guy. He tries hard to make other people happy and treats them with respect. Even his brothers who don’t always return the favor.

By the point Sacchi and Aida are finished making their order, the youngest is ready to explode at this woman. She never even told Karamatsu her name, but she’s spent the whole time talking him down. When she asked what he did ‘besides be super excruciating’, and he told her he didn’t really have a job, she laughed at him. He tried to save it by saying he occasionally played guitar at coffee shops, and she responded something along the lines of, “What kind of hipster loser does that these days??”

Listening to it just makes him so angry. She doesn’t think Karamatsu is attractive, she’s called him embarrassing more than once, and no matter what he does or says, she’s not happy with it. Why the fuck did she even bother going out with him, then?

Totty was worried that Karamatsu was going to screw this up; so far he’s actually managed to be a decent date. He wasn’t prepared for his brother’s date to be the shitty one.

Sacchi brings him a simple iced coffee while Aida returns with the serving tray, a fake smile on her face from laughing uncomfortably at one of the woman’s comments. “God, she’s exhausting.”

“I don’t even know her and I can’t stand her,” Totty mutterrs before taking a sip of his drink. “Why the hell is she treating him like that? He’s just… being himself!”

Being himself. Karamatsu’s really not doing anything wrong. He’s trying to talk himself up when this woman gives him a chance to, but who doesn’t talk themself up on a first date? He just wants to impress her.

It makes Totty feel a little guilty to realize that, honestly, all Karamatsu really wants is to impress everyone because he wants people to like him… including his brothers. If Karamatsu feels the need to seek love and acceptance from strangers like this girl, to the point that he’s willing to put up with the horrible way she’s treating him, what does that say about his brothers? It’s not the first time he’s sucked it up and dealt with something he shouldn’t have from someone just because he wants that person to love him.

His attention is drawn by the woman giggling a little too loudly. “Fuck, you wanna go out with me again? I mean, how do you think this is going? I’m two seconds away from sneaking out the bathroom window. You’re so obnoxious, you dress like an edgy middle schooler, and who wears sunglasses inside, especially when it’s raining outside? You’re, like, cringe incarnate.”

Completely contradicting every statement she made, she slid her hand across the table to take his, if only for a brief moment. The wicked look in her eyes, more sadistic than even Ichimatsu, made Totty’s stomach twist in anger. “I might keep you around, though. You seem like a guy who’d keep me laughing for a while. Maybe next time I’ll take you out with my friends so everyone can laugh at you.”

Oh, that’s it.

He doesn’t know if Karamatsu is oblivious to what she means because he’s blinded and deafened by the promise of another date, or if he knows exactly what she means but perhaps thinks it’s worth it. His eyes light up… and behind that hopeful spark is the pain she’s already put him through.

Baby of the bunch though he is, Totty isn’t going to sit around and twiddle his thumbs while some bitch takes advantage of his big brother.

“Oh, that is sooooo not happening!” he calls as he approaches the table. Although he feels a little bad about just stepping in like this, he’s not gonna let her get away with treating Karamatsu like that. Laughing at him herself was bad enough; parading him in front of her friends for all of them to laugh at him when there’s nothing wrong with Karamatsu isn’t gonna happen if Totty has something to say about it.

The woman gives him an unimpressed look. “Who the fuck are you?”

“T-Totty!!” Karamatsu, on the other hand, looks immediately panicked. “I can handle this… please, go back and fix your schedule, and I’ll meet you at home.”

“Wait, you work here?” She tilts her head at him. “Oh, shit, hold up. You’re the asshole who messed up my drink last time I was here.” Her gaze flits between the two of them, and she laughs again.

“― Oh, my God! You had to bring your twin brother along to come on a date? You’re pathetic!” Her hand pulls away from Karamatsu’s. “Oh, you’re definitely coming out with me and my friends.”

Totty hisses and pushes her hand away from Karamatsu’s. He steps in front of his big brother to physically block this woman from him. “Keep your hands off him! You’re not taking him anywhere. He’s never seeing you again, because you treated him like… like, fuck, I wouldn’t treat a rock the way you treated him!”

He hears Karamatsu make a noise of almost-protest behind him; he can just imagine the other man sinking down in his seat and trying to hide his face. “Totty, please…”

“No! No, she doesn’t get to just treat you like dirt, Karamatsu-nii-san! You think my brother’s just some kind of dumbass you can show off to your friends and laugh at and treat him like crap?!” he snarls. “Well, guess what? He may be sort of a dumbass sometimes, and maybe he’s a little painful, and maybe he’s not the perfect guy you’re looking for! But he’s a whole hell of a better person than you are!”

Although Totty could kick himself for not saying anything to Karamatsu before, it might be best it’s coming out now. He doesn’t have a lot of time to really think about it or pretend or rehearse. What he’s saying isn’t practiced, it’s real. “Karamatsu is the kindest person I know, and you wish you had at least half the passion he does for the things he likes! Who cares that he wears a shirt with his own face on it? He was bending over backwards to make you happy, even though everything out of your mouth was word barf about how embarrassing he is! And, by the way, you’re wrong!”

It only takes half a step for him to reach over to grab his coffee from the counter, assisted by Aida who’s smirking as she holds it out for him. “If my choice was between you or him, I’d be way less embarrassed to be seen in public with him than with you! He’s not perfect, but he cares about people, and he’s always there when you need him, and ― and all this stuff you think is embarrassing, who the hell gives a shit?! It’s what he wants to do and it’s not hurting anyone! I’d break my phone before I let my big brother go out with someone like you again! Maybe he keeps striking out with dates, but he’s never going to be that desperate!”

He feels a little bad about what he’s about to do. That feeling is mitigated by the fact that at least his coffee isn’t hot.

“And, you know, I actually am sorry about messing up your drink last time. So here, you can have mine!” Almost before he’s finished speaking, he’s dumped his entire cup over her head.

He doesn’t stick around to deal with the aftermath aside from seeing the look of abject horror on the woman’s face as the coffee makes her bad mascara drip. And even though there’s a little bit of guilt over the fact that he’s leaving his coworkers to deal with her, the fact that Sacchi and Aida are cackling while they gather up napkins eases his mind.

He grabs Karamatsu by the hand and leads him out, tossing his coffee cup on the way. There’s not much choice on Karamatsu’s part, except he doesn’t particularly look as if he minds that.

“You didn’t… have to do that, Totty,” Karamatsu mumbles. When Totty glances over, the second eldest looks more tired than anything. He knows that look; the exhaustion of something not working out, of thinking you had a chance only for it to all go up in smoke.

Totty huffs, marching the two of them in the direction that leads back home. “Of course I did! You weren’t going to do it, so someone had to. God… you’ve gotta stop letting people walk all over you, Karamatsu-nii-chan.”

The shift to the more affectionate honorific suggests to Karamatsu that this is really, truly something Totty cares about. He squeezes his baby brother’s hand with a thoughtful hum. “… If that’s the case, perhaps a romance for me just isn’t in the cards. I… really thought it was going to go somewhere this time.”

At last Totty slows slightly, from an aggressive pace to something a little calmer. He’s still pissed off that someone treated Karamatsu like that, and although he’s a bit upset that Karamatsu sit there and let it happen, he knows what it’s like to want people to like you so much that you’ll put up with nearly anything.

However, that’s also the reason he doesn’t want Karamatsu just putting up with it. He deserves so much better than to have people treat him like dirt. It’s not right to do that to anybody, but… especially not to Totty’s big brother.

“I’m sorry I kind of… tapped into Murder Totty in there,” he sighs. “Did I go overboard?”

Karamatsu shrugs. “Maybe a little. But I wasn’t truly enjoying myself and I didn’t want to go on another date with her. I just… didn’t know how to tell her no. I suppose I really am lucky you were there, too.”

Silence falls between them while they walk, then after a moment, Karamatsu clears his throat. “Totty… did you… mean all those things?”

“Huh? All what things?”

“Those things, you know… you said I was… kind and passionate and reliable.” He lets out a soft laugh. “You… you said you’d rather break your phone than let me go out with her again.”

… Oh. He. Did say that, didn’t he?

He pouts a bit, then squeezes Karamatsu’s hand. “Yeah, I meant it. Of course I meant it.”

Beat.

“But as much as I love you, I’m just glad I don’t have to do that.”

#Osomatsu san #whump #Zaimokumatsu #Karamatsu #Totty #emotional whump #TOTTY TO THE RESCUE!!!!#don't you dare fuck with any of his big brothers ESPECIALLY the most vulnerable of his big brothers #RELEASE THE BABY!!!

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firelxdykatara · 3 years

Text

gods, ok, apparently i’m not done.

atla fandom? we need to have a chat.

(....ok that made me sound pretentious as fuck. and maybe i am, but this needs to be said, cause i’m getting....real, real tired of a Certain Corner of this fandom and as a result, this is gonna be a discourse-heavy post so feel free to scroll past if that’s not your bag. as always, my salt posts all carry the catch-all #salt for ts tag, which you’re free to blacklist/filter at your leisure. i’m Very Annoyed at the moment, which will probably come through in the following post, so just. yknow. be prepared for that. or ignore it, that’s perfectly valid too.)

under a cut bc i do care for my followers and their sanity i swear lmao

there’s a real serious issue in this fandom with not understanding what queer terminology actually means or implies, especially when applied to a fictional narrative.

i’m specifically talking about ‘coding’, here. (if i were in a more meme-y mood, i might have said ‘the atla fandom found out about the term “gay-coding” and haven’t shut up since’.)

to the people who say ‘zuko is gay-coded’, i have this to say: you keep using that word. i do not think it means what you think it means. because he isn’t. i’m sorry, but he’s not! and the fact that this is such a prevalent claim in this fandom is distressing, bc it says to me that none of y’all know what gay-coding is or when and how to apply it! please, i’m begging you, go and look up these terms and what they mean and when they should be used before actually trying to plug them into your critical analysis, because when you misuse them and then call other people delusional for disagreeing with you it casts a pall over the entire fandom and is, i think, the root of some of the worst toxicity this fandom has to offer.

and the thing is, there are cases where gay-coding would apply--for instance, a couple series that are famous for queerbaiting their audience by coding their main characters as being attracted to one another (sometimes even despite their openly stated sexualities) come to mind, but those shows bare no similarities at all to atla and how zuko was written and portrayed! (and it would be funny, if it weren’t so obnoxious and infuriatingly wide-spread throughout the fandom, because the only queer couple we actually seen on-screen in either show wasn’t even queer-coded in any respect, and they’re canonically bi! [yes, i’m shading korrasami, or more accurately i’m shading bryke for refusing to give ka the build-up and development they deserved].)

this absolutely isn’t to say that headcanoning zuko as gay is a bad thing or invalid in any respect. (although the tendency for zukka shippers to do this specifically to keep zuko away from katara and/or invalidate his canon relationship/attraction to girls is more than a little eyebrow raising. especially since sokka is usually allowed to be bi, bc fans have no problem letting sukka stay in the background bc it’s no real threat, while jetko shippers are happy to have both boys be bi. [possibly bc katara is less a threat to jetko bc jetkotara is every bit as valid as any single ship between the three, but zukka can’t exactly let katara join in, and if the potential exists for zuko to be attracted to her then canon giving them the far deeper emotional bond becomes a threat to zukka’s existence? idk for sure--you be the judge.]) i prefer to hc zuko as bi (and always have, long before the atla renaissance), bc i don’t think zuko being attracted to boys is outside the realm of possibility, and it isn’t a threat to my ship since zuko&katara had a deep and emotional bond in canon that is very easy to develop further into something that becomes explicitly romantic--but the headcanon itself isn’t really the problem (although what it’s often in service to can be).

it’s the strange insistence that this is the only way to read his character, bc he was coded that way and so anyone who doesn’t see it must be too straight to understand--and i really shouldn’t have to say why and how that is so incredibly fucking insulting. (the ‘hetero lenses’ comment wasn’t cute when it came from bryke six years ago, and the same sentiment being repackaged and delivered by zukka shippers ain’t cute now.)

calling zuko gay-coded not only demonstrates ignorance as to what the term actually means, and how to usefully apply it in critical analysis, but also validates the frankly bullshit insertion of institutionalized homophobia in the world of atla where it was neither needed, nor wanted, nor ever hinted at in canon. as a queer woman i’m still infuriated by one fucking comic panel shoving institutionalized and systemic homophobia into a world where it was entirely unnecessary (and doing this in the first installment of the franchise showcasing a queer relationship??? making korra and asami worried about ‘coming out’ when they could have just gone on to have cute adventures together and tell people ‘hey we’re dating’ and have everyone else be ‘that’s awesome =DDD’ [because it is, in fact, possible to just have a world without homophobia i promise!!!!!] double yikes, i’m still pissed at bryke about it), and i doubly hate that ‘zuko is gay coded’ has become so widespread that ‘ozai hates him bc he’s gay’ has become a staple in that part of the fandom.

not only does making zuko gay and implying (or outright stating) that ozai hated and abused him because of it completely undermine zuko’s character arc by making his abuse about his sexuality rather than ozai’s toxic pride and anger at seeing himself reflected in his ‘weak’ son, but it comes very close to outright stating that abuse and trauma are inherently gay experiences, and they aren’t!!! they really aren’t, i promise!!!

abuse and trauma narratives exist outside of ‘my dad hates me because i’m gay’. and, quite frankly, there are MORE THAN ENOUGH queer trauma narratives out in the world. we do not need to start trying to retroactively make them canon in a series where they didn’t exist! if you’re gay and see yourself in zuko and project your own experiences on him, that’s understandable and valid. that does not make zuko gay-coded. and honestly, the insistence that he is makes very little sense to me, because you’re essentially trying to give the show credit for work you put into interpreting the characters! why would you want to do that? why not own your own headcanons and take credit for them, rather than insisting they are canon and everyone else is wrong for not seeing them??? like, i’ve said before that i’ve always headcanoned zuko (and katara) as bi, and even support it with my interpretations of evidence from the show, but the difference between ‘i think zuko is bi’ and ‘zuko is definitely gay-coded’ is that i know that bi zuko is my interpretation of canon, and that it is work i’m putting into the show that wasn’t actually intended by the creators/writers, no matter how much sexual tension i read into the jetko swordfight.

and like, zuko’s character arc doesn’t actually parallel a queer one all that well to begin with. it’s easy enough to do the work and twist it sideways just enough to make the general points fit, but the fact is, zuko’s arc is not one of self-discovery. it’s not one of coming to understand something fundamental about himself that he can’t change, that he was hated for, and coming out to his father in a dramatic confrontation where he shows that he understands himself and doesn’t need his father’s acceptance to be fulfilled.

zuko’s arc is actually one of trauma and healing. and those can (and often are--like i said, there are more than enough queer trauma narratives in the world, atla really doesn’t need to be one of them) be part of queer narratives, for sure! but they aren’t uniquely queer. and zuko’s confrontation with ozai during the eclipse doesn’t read like a ‘coming out’ at all. (yes, i’ve seen that post. yes, i rolled my eyes and moved on, bc unlike some people, i’m capable of not clowning on correctly tagged posts i disagree with.) zuko is specifically confronting ozai over his abuse, because his arc wasn’t about discovering anything fundamental about himself (and therefore realizing that ozai was hating him for something he couldn’t change)--it was about realizing that he was not at fault for the way his father treated him. it was also about realizing that the fire nation was broken and corrupt at its core, and that his father was an aspect of that he needed to break away from so that he could help the world begin to heal.

he says it himself:

Zuko: No, I've learned everything! And I've had to learn it on my own! Growing up, we were taught that the Fire Nation was the greatest civilization in history. And somehow, the War was our way of sharing our greatness with the rest of the world. What an amazing lie that was. The people of the world are terrified by the Fire Nation. They don't see our greatness. They hate us! And we deserve it! We've created an era of fear in the world. And if we don't want the world to destroy itself, we need to replace it with an era of peace and kindness.

making this about zuko being gay and rejecting ozai’s homophobia, rather than zuko learning fundamental truths about the world and about his home and about how there was something deeply wrong with his nation that needed to be fixed in order for the world to heal (and, no, ‘homophobia’ is not the answer to ‘what is wrong with the fire nation’, i’m still fucking pissed at bryke about that), misses the entire point of his character arc. this is the culmination of zuko realizing that he should never have had to earn his father’s love, because that should have been unconditional from the start. this is zuko realizing that he was not at fault for his father’s abuse--that speaking out of turn in a war meeting in no way justified fighting a duel with a child.

is that first realization (that a parent’s love should be unconditional, and if it isn’t, then that is the parent’s fault and not the child’s) something that queer kids in homophobic households/families can relate to? of course it is. but it’s also something that every other abused kid, straight kids and even queer kids who were abused for other reasons before they even knew they were anything other than cishet, can relate to as well. in that respect, it is not a uniquely queer experience, nor is it a uniquely queer story, and zuko not being attracted to girls (which is what a lot of it seems to boil down to, at the end of the day--cutting down zuko’s potential ships so that only zukka and a few far more niche ships are left standing) is not necessary to his character arc. nor does it particularly make sense.

(and before anyone brings up his date with jin--a) he enjoyed it when she kissed him, and b) he was a traumatized, abused child going out on a first date. of course he was fucking awkward. have you ever met a teenage boy????)

anyway, uh, that was a lot of words, so have a tl;dr: zuko is not gay-coded. there is nothing uniquely gay (or even uniquely queer) about his character arc or characterization, and he was certainly not coded gay in an attempt to sneak a queer character past the censors. if anyone involved with atla was gonna try that, it would’ve been in lok, and as established, they didn’t even manage to queer-code the actual queer relationship before the last few minutes of the final episode. headcanoning zuko as gay is absolutely fine (though if it’s only done to keep him away from female characters he may otherwise be attracted to, that smells more like misogyny than anything else), but insisting that this reading is the only one that makes sense, and anyone who doesn’t agree must be straight (hello, queer woman here making this insanely long thinkpiece) is very much not.

ship what you like, but stop trying to invalidate other ships and other interpretations of characters just to make your ship seem more plausible. it’s really not a good look.

#atla #zuko #zukka salt #more like zukka shipper salt #atla fandom salt #salt for ts #zuko is not gay coded and im so so tired of seeing that argument in this fandom #it's fine as a hc but it's not canon and was never remotely intended and his arc isn't particularly evocative of a gay narrative #long post #queer things

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therenlover · 3 years

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In Sickness And In Health (An 18+ James Patrick March/Reader Oneshot)

This is 18+ content! If you are a minor, this work is not for you !!!

This fic is a sequel to my oneshot Heartsick, but it can be read as a standalone oneshot!

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Tags: Smut with Plot, Weddings, Fluff, Ghost Smut, Cunnilingus, Sick!Reader, Obnoxious Titanic Knowledge

Rating: E, 18+

Warnings: Swearing, Major Character Death, Romanticization of Death, Murder, Unsafe Sex (it’s with a ghost, but just to be safe...), Mentions Of The Reader Having A Long Term Debilitating Illness

Word Count: 5500~

This fic has been crossposted to my AO3 under the same title

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“How are you feeling, my darling?”

James’s voice was soft as he entered your suite, slipping off his shoes before joining you on the bed. He smelled like antiseptic, hair and hands still damp from a recent wash. Underneath, though, was the sharp, coppery tang of blood.

You stretched as you answered, weak muscles shuddering with effort. “It’s a good day. Not great, I still feel like absolute shit, but I don’t feel like I’m actively dying anymore,”

“Well, that’s certainly an improvement,”

Your fiancé offered you a rare, genuine grin. Seeing him smile made the lie worth it.

In truth, you still felt truly terrible.

It had been almost three weeks since Mr. March had proposed, and true to his word he had been glued to your side helping you recover ever since. He helped you bathe, fed you meals, gave you medication, kept you entertained; days with him were filled with small, simple pleasures. You had never experienced anything like that attention before. Unfortunately, though, the time spent with James only seemed to help your mind, and not your body.

After close to two months of bed rest, your muscles were weak. It still took significant effort to do simple tasks like walking to the bathroom or using cutlery. Some days were better than others, but everything generally tended to end up as part of the indistinguishable haze of pain that clouded your memories lately. If nothing else, at least the fevers were less extreme.

The only light at the end of the tunnel was your wedding. It was still two weeks away, (“That’s plenty of time for you to recover fully, my dearest,” James had insisted) but once you were married that meant you could die. Oh, what a happy day that would be. There would be no more sickness, no more achy muscles, not another day of forced bed rest, just peace and quiet and plenty of sex. God, how you missed the sex…

Every day was another day closer to your peaceful end, and yet they seemed to stretch endlessly. Deep down, you worried that you might not even make it long enough to walk down the aisle alive. You shuddered at the thought. If James ended up having to carry you down the aisle you might just die of embarrassment before he had the chance to kill you.

“I can’t believe you killed someone without me,” You huffed, reaching out your shaking arms and inviting James to lay with you. He happily obliged.

“Would you have preferred me to let him live?” James pulled your torso gently onto his chest, letting you rest against him.

“No, but you could have at least let me watch. I’ve been stuck in here for weeks, James. I get bored,”

He ran a hand through your hair. “Perhaps next time darling, but hopefully, you will be well enough to join me before our next victim walks through the door,”

“Who was it this time?”

“A florist. Liz invited him to bring over a few samples before hiring him to do arrangements for the wedding, but they were atrocious. You should have seen them, my love, they were simply grotesque, not to mention that the color schemes didn’t even slightly match the carpets in the entrance hall. Who puts pink and yellow tulips in a wedding arrangement at a hall filled with reds and oranges?”

You gave a soft hum. “Were they all really that bad?”

“Well… perhaps I was a bit harsh, but can you truly blame me? I want our wedding day to be perfect. There shouldn’t be a single flower or ribbon out of place,” He emphasized his question by gently squeezing you to his chest.

“Is it really that important?”

James went still. “What do you mean by that, dearest?”

A sigh pushed through your lips, your chest aching from the effort. “I just don’t understand why we have to wait for this perfect wedding when we could just get married now. I’m not saying I wouldn’t enjoy a big ceremony, I’m sure it would be wonderful, but I’m just so tired James. Why does it matter if we say our vows in front of other people? There’s not gonna be anything legally or religiously binding between us anyway. Getting married to you, in my mind, is just promising to be by your side forever, so why does anything else matter besides you and me?”

Looking up, you noticed that Mr. March seemed to be deep in thought, lips pressed into a line as his thin eyebrows furrowed together. Your heart sank. Did a wedding ceremony really mean that much to him? In an instant guilt began to flood your stomach. You were really ruining a special moment in his life to die faster? Hell, did he even really want you to die? He had always relished in your warmth, enthralled by the thudding of your weak, living heart. Of course, he would hate you for rushing into marriage just to throw your life away. Or maybe he was stalling because it would be too much for him to kill you himself…

“James-” you placated, lifting a hand to his face, but he quickly snapped out of his thoughtful haze.

He gazed down at you with love in his eyes and a wicked grin on his lips. “You’re right! We shall be married this afternoon!”

A jolt of shock ran down your spine.

“What?”

“As you said, our wedding is a binding of souls, my darling! Our love is sacred, withstanding time and mortality, so who are we to bend to the rules of the common man? If an intimate ceremony for two is what you desire, I shall not deny you,” In one smooth motion, James rolled on top of you, arms boxing you in as he loomed above. He looked absolutely unhinged, eyes glinting wildly in the yellow lamplight.

You knew then that there would never be anyone else. No one could compare to James, your James. He would devour you whole and you would thank him all the while. With a sudden burst of energy, you reached up and pulled him into a scorching kiss.

It was sloppy, all battling tongues and clashing teeth, nothing like the soft pressing of lips that you had been sharing lately. How had you gone almost two months without this? Your heart felt like it was about to burst right out of your chest. As James bit down hard on your lower lip, you pulled fistfuls of his pinstripe suit into your hands.

After a few more seconds of desperate, breathless kissing James pulled away. You panted for air below him. “Why’d you stop?”

To your dismay, he climbed off of you. His hard-on was fully visible through his thin dress pants as he stood. “As much as I would love to ravage you now, dearest, I believe we have vows to exchange,”

“Can’t we just do them in bed? I want you now,”

He chuckled at your whining. “I may be willing to compromise on many things, but this is not one of them,”

“Please, Mr. March,” Your words were loaded, innocent doe eyes boring into his very soul, “for me?”

You could tell it was a difficult decision, but James stood strong. “I can’t say you haven’t thoroughly tempted me, but I’m afraid not darling,” he said firmly, “Forgive me?”

With a sigh, you nodded. “Of course,”

The instant you gave in, he beamed. “Splendid! Now, it’s a shame that we don’t have your dress, but I believe I have given you several gowns that would serve nicely,”

“You’re not gonna let me get married in my pajamas?”

“Would you prefer that to wearing a dress?”

The genuine concern in James’ voice was enough to make you fold. The things his voice did to you….

“Darling,” you groaned, fighting your weak muscles as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, “look in the closet. There should be a black zip-up garment bag in there,”

He quirked up an eyebrow.

“Just do it,”

“As my bride commands,” James rushed to the closet, thumbing through gowns. By the time he found it you were on your feet, leaning on a nearby wall for support. “This one, darling?” he asked, pulling it from the rack.

You grinned. “That’s the one. Open it up for me?”

James undid the zip quickly. Once he saw the contents, he gaped. “You know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding,”

Slowly, you made your way to James and hugged him from behind. “Well, it’s a good thing the wedding is happening now... can you help me get the dress on?”

He happily obliged.

In less than 15 minutes you were laced into your wedding dress and sitting at your vanity. James was by the phonograph looking at records while you finished pinning up your hair. It was finally time.

“What would you like me to play, darling? We don’t have the wedding march, but there are some decent options. Let’s see… The Swan? You always have loved Saint-Saëns. Or perhaps Songe d’Automne?” James asked. He had been strangely lenient; bending to your will on the wedding, letting you pick the music, allowing you to tease him with no repercussions. You shrugged it off.

“You would really play the song that played as the Titanic sank at our wedding?”

“I find it strangely fitting,”

With a soft laugh, you put the last pin in place and turned to your groom. “And so it is. I’ll compromise. We have Mon Coeur S’Ouvre A Ta Voix, don’t we? You’ll get your morbidity while I get my romance,”

“That sounds delightful, my dear. Good choice,”

James found the correct record and set it on the phonograph, placing the needle and cranking the arm with a well-practiced hand. Then, as the music began to play, he stood. It was like he was devouring you with his eyes, drinking in every detail of you as he approached. He offered you his hands. “Shall we begin, my darling?”

You joined him in the center of the room without hesitation, taking his offering with a smile, “I think we shall,”

“I admit,” James said, voice sweet and low, “that I am well out of my depth here, but before we begin may I say that you, as you are now, are more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you?”

Your face flushed. “What’s gotten into you, James? Are you getting soft on me?”

“We can only hope not, I have a reputation to uphold you know! I just can’t help but think…” his sentence drifted off as his gaze fell on yours, “I am a hard man, one of custom and habit. My life has been filled with monotony for as long as I have lived. Even killing has become commonplace for me. Things do not phase me the same way they phase you, darling, in all of your softness and perfection. I wonder if this is what will truly make you happy,”

“James!” you dropped his hands in order to cup his face, “I love you. I want to be with you. What would make you think I’m unhappy here?”

He covered your small fingers with his own, voice wistful. “I love you too, Y/N. Don’t misunderstand me, this wedding brings me more joy than you know. I simply wish to say that you will only get married once and I want it to be exactly to your liking. I have been engaged thrice and married once before, all of the pomp and circumstance is old news to me. For you, though, in all your youth…”

In a rare moment of openness, James bared himself to you. It was only right for you to do the same.

“I have never been more sure of myself than in this moment,” you whispered, leaning to let your forehead rest against his, “You are enough. I don’t need guests, or flower arrangements, or a cake to know I love you and I want to spend the rest of eternity at your side. You’re right, I’m young and I’ve made a lot of dumb choices in my life, but loving you isn’t one of them. Take me, James, make me yours. This is where I belong”

As you spoke, you felt him relax against you.

“Well, you’ve certainly convinced me,” he murmured before pulling back and bringing your hands to his still, unbeating heart, “now, on with the show… my queen, the woman who has tamed my heart, you are the only one of your kind. No one else could move me the way you do. The moment I saw you walk into my hotel I knew that you would be mine, but I had no clue of the things you would do to my heart. You have changed me, mind, body, and soul. I can only hope that I’ve changed you in similar ways,”

While he was speaking, it suddenly hit you that this was it. Usually, brides had months of build-up to their weddings, filled with cake tastings and dress fittings and family and friends. You, though, had had only a few weeks to prepare, most of which were spent on strict bedrest while James took care of the planning. Even then, you had disregarded the plans. Tears of joy began to roll down your cheeks. Nothing had ever felt so right in your whole life.

“Oh darling, don’t cry,” he cooed, wiping your tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m just so happy!”

“And you shall continue to be happy. As long as you remain by my side, you will want for nothing! I shall be with you in sickness and in health, through life and through death,” Suddenly, his voice lowered to almost a whisper. “You, Y/N, have captivated me. I wish to never be without you again,”

“You never will be,”

James smiled, squeezing your hands. In an instant, you realized it was your turn. You hadn’t given much thought as to what you would say, but as you gazed into his dark, hopeful, hungry eyes the words came to you as clear as day.

“James Patrick March,” you said, “I have never met anyone quite like you. When I first saw you, I had nothing. I was destitute. The Hotel Cortez was my last hope in life, but then, I spoke to you in the Blue Parrot Lounge and I suddenly knew exactly what my purpose in life was. Somehow, someway, I realized that I had been made to find you. You’ve given me so much, James. You showed me that life was worth living. I can’t think of a future for me that doesn’t include you. From this moment on, once I’m finally Mrs. March, we can finally be what we were made to be… one heart, one mind, one soul. I’ll never let you go. Marry me, James? Stay here with me until the world ceases to turn?”

“I will, darling. I do,” while he spoke, he reached into his pocket. “I had hoped that this ring would be sitting on your finger sooner. It belongs to the woman of the house, the holder of my heart… you, my dearest Mrs. March. Please say you love me, and that you’ll stay with me until nothing of this world remains?

You responded with a grin. “I love you, James… I do,”

Slowly, he slid the ring onto your finger. It was the first time you’d actually seen it up close, and it was more stunning than you remembered. A large, square-cut diamond sat on a bed of smaller rubies, and it was all held together by a delicate silver band that fit your finger perfectly. The red stones were a new addition. Had James had the ring altered just for you? You were about to ask when you caught his gaze.

“May I kiss the bride now, my darling?”

Instead of responding, you surged up and kissed him yourself. It was like none of the kisses you had ever shared before.

There was a passion to it, but it wasn’t desperate. It was more of a low, roiling thing, a time-bomb ticking down to explode. In seconds James’ cool hand had found its way into your hair, pulling you closer and messing up the pinned curls you had put in earlier. You found you didn’t quite care.

Your limbs were beginning to feel weak as you ran out of air, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of your long-forgotten illness or if it was just the power James held over you. Part of you didn’t care anymore. As you pulled back for air, your husband reached around to the lacing at the back of your dress and began to pull at it, earning a few giggles as he loosened it enough that it fell from your body, leaving you almost bare in front of him.

“How I’ve craved you, my lovely wife,” he growled, palming your breasts through your bra, “it’s been far too long,”

His touch felt electric against your thin, soft skin. “Please, Mr. March, more,” You pressed yourself against your husband, feeling how your words affected him. He was rock hard. Something about that satisfied an ache in your heart. Even with you sick and weak, he needed you as much as you needed him.

In a swift movement, he scooped you up and carried you to the bed, setting you down gently before settling himself between your legs. You whimpered as he sucked a deep bruise into your neck. He was an expert with his tongue, licking and sucking the skin like a man starved. It felt delightful, but you couldn’t help but think about how it would feel elsewhere.

As if he could read your mind, James grinned.

“All in good time, you little minx,”

Ever impatient, you fisted a hand into his hair in an attempt to get him to move lower. He stayed put.

“Does my lovely wife want something from me?”

You groaned as he wrapped his teeth around your bra strap and tugged before letting go, the elastic snapping against your already sweat-slick skin. “James, please,”

“Ah, ah, ah! Use your words, dearest. What do you want?”

His tutting made you flush from your cheeks to your chest. There was only one way to get what you wanted, and you knew exactly how to do it. With as much innocence as you could muster in your debauched state, you whispered, “Please sir, will you eat my pussy?”

James couldn’t hold back as he snapped his hips against the sheets. “That’s it darling! How could I say no to such a polite request?”

You released a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. In a blink, your husband was undoing your bra and pulling it off, working his sinful mouth down to your breasts. His teeth grazed your nipple, drawing a high-pitched whine from your throat as your back arched, pushing you up towards his touch. It was like your body was a live wire. Every nerve was alive, buzzing at the slightest touch. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Thankfully, he was quick to move once again. He left a trail of gentle, sloppy kisses down your ribs and stomach before arriving at his desired destination. His hot breath against your soaked panties fanned the flames of arousal building within you. Once again, you whined.

Your husband had always loved eating you out. He never seemed happier than when he was buried between your thighs with his tongue buried between your folds, and once again he was faced with his favorite activity. The hungry look in his eye told you that he wanted it as much as you did.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to remove your garter in front of the hotel. I would have so enjoyed showing them all just how lucky of a man I am. Perhaps it’s a blessing in disguise though… I do hate to share” he murmured, pressing a few torturous kisses to the hot skin of your inner thighs as he skimmed your panties with his fingers, “I suppose these will have to do,” Then, in a sudden movement, he was dragging them down your legs by the lace with his teeth. Once they were removed, he tossed them aside to be collected later. The way he looked at your wetness was reverent. It only made you wetter.

“What do we have here,” he muttered, letting the tip of his nose just barely brush your core, “what could possibly be making you this wet, my darling?”

His taunting was, surprisingly, less severe than usual. On any normal day, it would have taken a good 10 minutes for him to be anywhere near your heat, but you could tell he was obliging your whims as a treat. It was a special occasion, after all.

“You,” you groaned lowly as his breath ghosted over your pussy.

“That’s right, my dear heart, me,”

In an instant James had buried himself in your lower lips, suckling your clit with vigor as your hips bucked to meet him. For once, he let you chase your pleasure with reckless abandon. It had been months since your last proper orgasm, so you were extra sensitive as he licked long stripes up your slit. Soon enough you were keening as you teetered on the edge of pleasure.

“James- James, please!” you shouted as he finally worked a finger into your tight, wet hole, his tongue lazily circling your clit as he gazed into your eyes across the planes of your body.

He pulled off momentarily, making you groan. “Please what, dearest?”

“I wanna cum! Please- OH!”

His lips were back on your clit instantly, his eyes smiling as he pumped in and out of you with his fingers and sucked with reckless abandon. Every muscle in your body felt poised for action, your hands gripping James’ hair at the roots with enough force that you were surprised it was still attached to his head. You tipped over the edge into pleasure the second he curled his fingers upwards, roughly pressing into your sweet spot as he hummed, his voice vibrating against you in the most heavenly way.

Your orgasm was like a wave of pure bliss rolling over you as James pleasured you through it, milking you for everything you had. Only once you stopped convulsing did he remove his mouth. Even then, he continued to fuck you gently with his fingers. “Did that feel good, my love?” he asked, rubbing circles into your still-shaking thigh with his free hand.

“Yes, James! Your mouth is perfect,” you whimpered.

He seemed to enjoy your answer because he slowly pulled his fingers from your sensitive pussy before climbing up your body and rewarding you with a passionate kiss. You enjoyed it thoroughly but suddenly became aware that he was still fully dressed. “James,” you whined against his lips, “you’re wearing far too many clothes,”

He tasted like tobacco and absinthe as he kissed you again, guiding your hands to the buttons on his suit jacket before tugging at his cravat. “Perhaps we should remedy that, darling?”

You were quick to undo each button before ripping the jacket from his body and tossing it on the ground. His dress shirt and cravat were quick to follow. He focused on undoing his pants while you relished in his bare chest, running your hands down the firm planes of flesh. “God, you’re gorgeous,” you whispered, biting down gently on his collarbone.

“No need to call me God, dearest,” he chuckled, shoving down his pants and boxers to free his leaking cock, “though I don’t oppose to it,”

He was a big man, long and thick enough that fitting all of him in was just slightly painful but more than enough to make you feel deliciously full. You drooled as you reached between your torsos to stroke him, but surprisingly James caught your wrist before you could touch him.

“I appreciate you taking my pleasure into consideration, my love, but I won’t last long as it is,” he crooned, holding your wrist to the bed with one hand as he lined himself up against your dripping heat with the other. He ran the head of his cock against your folds a few times, gathering up your wetness in the hopes that it would ease the stretch when he finally pushed in. To you, though, it was just torture, and how James did love to torture his victims.

“Please, fuck me, Mr. March,” you groaned, “I need you! It’s been so long,”

“Such a good little minx,” his voice rolled low as he smiled down at you, “using your words just like I taught you. Perhaps you deserve a reward,” Then, as he locked his hungry eyes with yours, he pushed fully into your heat.

You cried out in ecstasy the second he filled you up, your head lolling back against the headboard as he rocked in and out, letting you ride out the initial pain as he warmed you up for the main event. It wasn’t long before the sting was gone. It was replaced with a dull ache, but that was mostly overshadowed by a sweet, building fire spreading through your abdomen again as James pounded into you with reckless abandon.

Every muscle in your body felt weak, loose and slack as your husband found that spot inside you. Each thrust was a shock through your overstimulated body. It was like you were toeing the line between pain and pleasure, always an instant from falling fully into one or the other. When James picked up his speed once again, you started to lose yourself to the pleasure.

“Mr. March!” you wailed, body jolting as he released your wrist and instead used his hand to steady your thigh and hold you wide open, “ Mr. March! Oh god, please let me cum!”

Surprisingly, despite the fact that he was dead, James seemed almost as breathless as you while he purred into your ear. “Close your eyes, Y/N. Let the pleasure take you. Cum for me, Mrs. March,”

With one last sharp stroke from James, you wailed and let your orgasm overtake you. This time, though, it wasn’t a wave. Instead, it hit you directly like a ton of bricks. The feeling was heady, a high derived from the shockwaves of pleasure mixing with the sweet pain James always provided when he lost control. Distantly, you could feel your thighs covered in your wet essence as your husband gripped them and drove himself into you ceaselessly, quickly reaching his own climax.

Maybe it was that you hadn’t been satisfied so thoroughly since before you were sick, but you felt absolutely exhausted as the last remains of your release drained from your body. Perhaps you had gone too far with the enthusiasm after being on bed rest for so long… Something deep inside you felt whole, like a piece of you that had been missing all your life had finally slotted into place. You fell into a dreamless sleep as that satisfaction resonated through your thoroughly fucked-out body.

When you woke, you almost felt disconnected from time. It was like waking up from an unexpected nap that went on longer than you had intended it to. Your eyelids felt heavy, but the familiar ache in your lungs and muscles that had been your constant companion was gone, replaced with a cool, tingling numbness. You chuckled a bit to yourself. Had sex been the answer to your problems all along?

Slowly, you rolled onto your side, stretching out your arms and legs before curling up in the sheets. Five more minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt anybody.

Unfortunately, your plans for rest were foiled as you felt the bed dip beside you.

“How do you feel, my darling?” James asked. His voice was soft. If you didn’t know him better you would have thought he sounded frightened.

You smiled, letting your eyes flutter open as you took in his face. “Surprisingly, I feel great. I don’t think I’ve felt this good for a long time,”

James smiled back at you, his brown eyes glimmering with some distant emotion. “That’s good. I’m glad you’re starting the road to recovery,”

There was something strange about your husband, you noticed as you sat up, looking around. You definitely weren’t in your own bedroom anymore. Instead, you were tucked nicely into a four-poster bed with soft, red sheets, surrounded by dark wood and art deco accents. Distantly, you touched your chest and registered that you were wearing one of James’ shirts.

“You brought me to your room?” You propped yourself up on his headboard as you took in your new surroundings, watching the golden evening sun filter in through the gap in the heavy velvet curtains.

“Our room, my sweetling,” James corrected.

You hummed thoughtfully. “I like it. I know I’ve technically been here, with Devil’s Night and our little trysts and all, but I’ve never slept in your bed before. It’s soft… nice,”

He offered you a tinny false smile, his hands fidgeting nervously with the edge of the bedspread. “I’m glad you think so, dearest. What’s mine is now yours,”

Distantly, you smelled the faintest traces of the antiseptic soap James used to rid himself of blood. You raised an eyebrow. “How long was I out?”

“Just a few hours. I took the liberty of calling Mrs. Evers to turn down your sheets while you rested,”

“You had time for a kill in just a few hours?”

“Y/N, I-”

As he spoke, you reached out to touch his fidgeting hand only to yank your fingers back to your chest. No… this was wrong.

“Y/N, please, stay calm-”

“Why are you warm?” You asked, breathing heavily, “James? Why are you warm?”

James steadied himself with a deep breath before reaching over to rub gentle circles into your thigh above the blanket.

“I… I may have taken the liberties of… Y/N, please understand that I only did what I must. You were wasting away! And a promise is a promise…. What I’m trying to say is-”

“You killed me?”

“Precisely,”

Your husband bit down on his lip, averting his gaze in the hopes of avoiding your wrath. To his surprise, though, you threw yourself into his arms, peppering his face with kisses as you laughed joyously. You were free! Free from pain and sorrow and th e endless trappings of mortality. And James was the one to free you.

“You brilliant man!” you shouted, excited giggles escaping from your lips as you squeezed his frozen body to your own, “I didn’t even notice! Oh my god, and on our wedding night too? That’s so romantic! How did you do it? Did I have a heart attack and die from the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my whole damn life? Well… existence. I’m not quite alive anymore, am I? What did you use? Did you send me down the body chute?”

As you babbled, James slowly began to function again. You truly were his perfect match. “I slit your femoral artery just as all your muscles began to contract,” he explained, reaching up a hand to cup your cheek, “and I came to my own climax as you showered me in your blood. You didn’t feel a thing,”

You happily settled yourself against James’ chest. “You’re right. If anything, it felt kinda good…” you paused, “What about my body?”

He grinned. “You’re dead now, darling, we can revisit killing you during your little deaths at any time you like. As for your body, I didn’t put you down the chute. I cleaned you up, retrieved your ring, and took you to your casket. It’ll be bricked up in a wall within the week,”

“Aw, James, you had a casket ready for me and everything!”

“I commissioned it the day we first met. After we slept together and I led you to your suite, I went right to Liz and had her make an order. I spared no expense. Dark wood, red velvet lining…”

“Mmm,” you hummed, “It’s a shame we’ll never get to christen it… unless…”

“Darling, you cannot truly be thinking what I presume you are thinking,”

You giggled, pushing James flat onto the bed. Slowly, you leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Wanna go fuck over my dead body?”

James Patrick March had never gotten hard quicker in all his 126 years of existence.

-------

a/n: Welp! That’s the first smut I have ever written in my entire life. I hope it wasn’t terrible! This oneshot was great practice for a future instillation of Till Forever Falls Apart, so look forward to that lol. Let me know if you liked this and what types of oneshots you’d like to see next! Also, I love comments, so feel free to comment if you feel so inclined.

Please do not upload my works to other sites, thank you!

#james patrick march #james march #james march x reader #james patrick march x reader #evan peters #evan peters x reader #ahs #ahs hotel #smut #ahs smut #fanfic

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danny-chase · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Damian Wayne & Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne & Bruce Wayne Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Damian Wayne Centric, Panic Attack, Sickfic, Sick Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, he gets half a hug, Damian Wayne is a sweetheart, Dick Grayson is a Good Brother, Damian Wayne is a good brother Series: Part 10 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Sequel to Pneumonia, Damian decides to spend his day home with Richard.

Full story under cut

Footsteps echo through the hall, light, but heavy enough to be intentional. Too carefully timed to be confident in their placement. And with too little bounce to be Richard’s.

Nor would he waken if they were Richard’s and that’s really his first clue. Briskly throwing off the sheets and flattening his hair, he throws open the door before his father can make it the rest of the way down the hall. The footsteps stop in their tracks.

He leaves the door open as invitation, yet it’s unnecessary – father doesn’t approach. From what little time they’ve spent together, Damian finds it strange – his father is single minded in his work but yet so indecisive in his home – well – really this wasn’t his home. “How is he?” The words come out too harshly and he grits his teeth, hoping for leniency – father is to be respected, not talked to in such a manner.

Nor was father was pleased the last time he erred in his judgment. Ever since he’d failed the first time he meant, he’d been treated like a plague, locked in his room then, and avoided now.

…But he’d heard stories from Richard about a softer man than the one he’d met a year ago. A man whose love was stronger than his hate – who took in children and saved their souls.

It was odd that such a man had shied away from his own son. Damian couldn’t understand what he’d done wrong – he understood the skirmish with Drake was wrong – but Richard spoke of a man who could forgive. And yet. He’d only seen forgiveness from Richard.

He’d thought perhaps, that had been his father’s influence.

Another footstep resounds around him, and the realization strikes – he hasn’t moved. Huffing – at no one in particular – he silently strides forward, yanking his dresser drawers open to retrieve a set of perfectly folded clothes.

“Damian.” Father stays just out of sight beyond the door. Its nerve wracking – almost painful – waiting for information. Richard promised he would be fine, last night, he promised Bruce could take care of the things – would be back – would fix it.

He’d almost believed him, but for a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

It was odd, seeing him waver – especially because he’d seen for himself how much Bruce cared for him. He’d read the worry in his expressions and the thinly veiled pain as he stitched his successor’s side. Father was back – he’d believed that much – though he didn’t believe it when Richard said it – and that was… a complicated thing.

Suffice to say, he’d kept watch from afar until he heard the doorknob turn, leaving once father began to speak.

An awkward clearing of the throat makes him turn. Father stands in the doorway, looking stern but unsure, finally having decided to make an appearance. It’s irritating, how tall he seems; his head mere inches away from the top of the doorframe. “What?” He can’t keep panic from slipping into his voice. Swallowing, he makes another attempt. “How is Richard?”

Frowning, father shakes his head slightly looking displeased. Damian’s heart sinks to the floor – Richard couldn’t – he promised – he –

“He’s not doing as well as I’d hoped. His blood oxygen level fell last night, I had to put him on an external canister to raise it.” Damian lets out a long breath, his pulse returning to normal as father continued. “He’s stable, Leslie came over an hour ago. She predicts a full recovery, just don’t expect him to bounce back too quickly.” His father paused, giving him a curious look. “You look flush, are you alright?”

Suddenly full of the desire to be alone, he shuts the door. “Yes. One moment.” For a moment he thought – never mind that now. Turning back to his clothes, he kicks off his pajamas, hastily changing. He runs a hand through his hair, breathing steadily – everything is fine.

He can hear his father hesitating, the floorboards groaning as he shifts his weight. “School starts in an hour. I’ll drive you.” It takes all the willpower he can muster not to let a groan escape his lips. School’s awful on the best of days, a miserable prison with miserable teachers not paid enough to put up with his obnoxious rich classmates’ egregious behavior.

“I’m not going.” Richard needs monitoring after all and his father had fulfilled the task last night. For proper care, he needs properly awake caretakers.

“You will go.” The response is firm, but not without minor hesitation – something Richard had taught him to look for – something he could exploit in interrogations – something he could exploit here (for a good cause of course).

His argument must be flawless – rational and logical, nothing else will suffice. Pulling on his socks, crossing the room, he flings the door open, storming into the hall, in a display of righteous fury. “The benefits of my attending school today do not outweigh the benefits Richard would receive if I monitor his progress and allow you sleep in order to be prepared to monitor him tonight. Firstly, I know the material already.” His father makes a noise to interrupt, but he continues unperturbed.

“Secondly, I understand the social benefits are a concern to you. Ask Richard, I have made a friend. His name is Colin and he’s much better than any of the awful children at that school. And I’ve met with Lian and Irey and Jay.” The Titan’s children were annoying, but he wasn’t lying. It was awful, but he’d made it through the ‘playdate’. “Thirdly, as for extracurricular activities, Grayson has provided me with all necessary materials to pursue my interests. And…” He trails off, finding his father’s eyes tired, the bags under them unreasonably puffy. Gesturing vaguely, he pointed back at a mirror in his room. “Just look at yourself, you expect to watch him well like that?” They can debate all they’d like, but if father refuses to sleep much longer, the argument will be decided in his favor.

The eyes shift to the mirror and back, then to him, to the floor, then covered by a hand. His father turns, muttering something he can’t quite hear, but he makes out the words from reading his lips. ‘What the hell has Dick been teaching you?’ A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth – he’s won. Perhaps, with further needling, he’ll be out of school for good, but today, he doesn’t press his luck.

Father drops his hand with a sigh. “Fine. Keep up with your studies.” He takes a few steps back. “You can sit in the room but don’t bother him.” Damian holds back an eye roll, as if he would bother Richard while he’s recuperating. “Call if anything changes, I’ll make breakfast.” Father turns, Damian’s eyes follow, watching him stride down the hall, ducking into the kitchen.

As the kitchen door smoothly thuds shut, he turns back to his room, swallowing down the odd sensation that stirs in the base of his throat. His steps are silent – mindlessly so, as he pads over into the adjacent bathroom to finish his morning routine.

He emerges – the strange feelings sticking with him – he supposes he ought to feel relieved, but dread builds in the pit of his stomach instead at the prospect of seeing Richard.

Father said Richard would be fine. Leslie said Richard would be fine. Richard promised he would be fine.

None of them are liars – but what if they missed something? The thought wracks his mind on an endless loop. The hallway seems to stretch out as he takes a step towards his brother’s room. What if something changes before he gets there? What if the medication doesn’t work – what if it’s a super virus or an antibiotic resistant bacteria? Their enemies could come up with ridiculously effective toxins, pathogens aren’t that much different.

Richard promised. He tries desperately to hold on to that thought, stumbling forward, forcing himself closer to his room. His heart pounds harder the closer he inches, his head joining the party and thudding along in time. He feels like the deer slipping on ice on that dumb movie Richard made him watch; it’s as if his legs have forgotten to function.

He’s nearly there – the hallway spins slightly but it’s just a few more steps – he needs to get control of himself but he can’t breathe. Two more steps. Two more steps and then he can. See Richard.

Halfway through his next step, he trips, falling face first onto the floor, unable to do anything but choke out unsteady breaths, his mind screaming the counts to a breathing exercise learned as a child long ago.

Pathetic. He would have been killed in the League for less. He mastered control of his emotion as a child – this – this is unacceptable! He reaches a hand forward, sheer willpower the only thing keeping him from curling in on himself – he has to keep moving.

His hand connects with a foot, he looks up, finding a flush face with bleary eyes staring back. “Damian?” Richard’s voice is rough and quiet, guilt floods his stomach – Richard shouldn’t be out of bed – he shouldn’t have panicked like this – this is – “Woah, buddy, breathe.” There’s a hand resting on his shoulder, the next time he looks up, Richard sits next to him on the floor, tapping his hand in time to a new count, one he learned here a few months ago.

There’s a million pieces of his mind scattered about the hallway and the longer he sits there breathing, the more pieces settle back into their places. Richard’s verbal count shifts into coughs, but he keeps his hand steady. When he finishes, the tapping’s all that’s left.

Damian shakily pulls himself up on his knees, not quite sure what exactly happened. Richard gives him a small sad smile, his eyes full of sympathy – sympathy that Damian doesn’t want – feels guilty for receiving – sympathy he’s never earned. It’s overwhelming – and something’s wrong with him – because he doesn’t cry – hasn’t cried since he was nine – and he’s nearly eleven and he’s over this.

He can’t cry because everything’s okay – Richard’s arms are open in an invitation, his hand receding from his shoulder, but close enough to hover. He’s fine. Richard is fine. Tired, yes, but his side’s not gushing blood, and his coughs subsided. Damian wipes his eyes on his sleeve, glancing around – ensuring they’re alone – before sliding up against the wall next to Richard, scooting under one of his shoulders. A muscular arm drapes over his shoulders, hand settling back on his shoulder.

He’s warm, a bit uncomfortably so, and his breathing sounds raspy, but as he leans against his brother’s chest, he hears a steady heartbeat and it’s unbelievingly reassuring. The hand on his shoulder is firm, but not tight; he can slip out; he’s not trapped.

Really, he ought to be ashamed, of needing comfort like some sniveling third-grader, but it’s different – coming from Richard – someone he’s seen far too many times on the wrong end of some twisted concoction of fear gas, crying and screaming – needing comforting himself. Fear gas. Maybe this was an after effect – he files away the notion to mull over later – perhaps run a blood test on himself later.

Richard’s grip tightens as he coughs, turning to face away. Damian’s gut drops – Richard was supposed to be on supplemental oxygen. Guilt claws at his insides as he quickly stands, pulling his brother along the best he can. It gives him appreciation for Nightwing’s smaller frame – his brother is way heavier and bulkier than he was a year ago – supporting him takes nearly all his might. “Come on.” He urges, dragging Richard into his room, this times his steps steady and stable.

They’re both out of breath by the time they’ve made it to the bed. Richard plops down, bouncing slightly on mattress, gasping for air. Biting back his guilt, Damian quickly traces the path of the nasal cannula, shoving the nose piece into Richard’s hands. “Here.” He watches the man fumble for a second before settling it place.

He slides down, tucking himself into a tight ball beside the bed, listening as gasps turns to wheezes, wheezes to coughs, coughs to rasps and back again, as Richard learns how to breathe like a normal human being. “Thanks.” He grunts, nudging Damian with his shin.

Damian huffs, he shouldn’t be thanked – he caused this mess! “For what?!” He half-shouts, quickly lowering his voice before he can say more. He needs to stay calm – he’s not supposed to be a disturbance. “It’s my fault you-”

“Damian.” Richard groans in an annoyed way, not an ‘I’m about to hack up another lung’ way. “Thanks for staying in to keep me company. It’s sweet.” Some company he is, forcing his brother out of bed to come pick him up off the floor. “Quit pouting, I’m fine.” The leg nudges him again. A third time when he doesn’t respond. He pushes back. Richard nudges him again. Damian scowls, what’s he supposed to even do in this situation?! “Let’s play Mario Kart or something.” Richard says, as if he’s overheard Damian’s thoughts.

Just as he pauses to mull over the suggestion, the door screeches on its hinges, shaking him out of his musings. “We should get that oiled.” Father mutters, carrying a tray of breakfast foods. He freezes in his tracks at the sight of Damian on the floor. “Everything okay?” Unfreezing, his motions are rigid and forced, his lips pursing into a straight line, brow furrowing, contorting into deep worry lines.

Richard swings his legs back onto the bed. “Just left to use the bathroom, Damian helped me back.” The lie sounds natural, comes far too readily out of his mouth. Damian swallows, staring at the floor as his father ponders whether the statement rings true.

It seems he’s decided to let it slip if he knows. He grunts an acknowledgement, setting the tray aside the bed, passing each a plate. It’s funny – how their dishes are so plain – just pure white, no décor. It struck him as odd when he’d first used them, now no longer odd, but fitting. The bland dish fits right in with Richard’s bland room.

Father leaves as quick as he came, and Damian’s left to reflect on the empty room as he munches on a bagel. He hasn’t spent much time in here, out of respect for privacy, he’s seen it before, but never thought what it would be like to live in it. “Don’t you get bored of looking at the walls?” He mutters, after swallowing a bite. His own walls are cluttered with his possessions; trophies from fallen enemies, keepsakes from his mother, and gifts from his brother (even a friendship bracelet from Brown is tacked to his corkboard). Richard’s are bare, save one faded poster. His eyes linger on the grinning young acrobat, gracefully swinging with his parents in the background.

Richard hums, curiously following his gaze. “Walls are walls, I don’t normally look at them. I just come in here to sleep.” He nods towards the television. “If I’m bored I can watch a show.”

Damian rolls his eyes. “When’s the last time you even turned it on?” He stands, spinning, taking in a full view of the room. “Room color effects your mood.” It’s something Richard used an excuse, to get him to pick a new color for his bedroom when they first moved in. “And potted plants are good for overall wellbeing.” He has a few on his dresser, he even set up an automatic watering system. He could hang some ivy over the balcony. Though… maybe not ivy.

Richard smiles to himself, letting out a little raspy noise that he supposes could be a laugh. “You’re really into it, huh?” Damian feels heat rise to his cheeks, he’s not ‘into’ anything as trivial as room décor. “Go wild, you can order whatever online and have it delivered.”

Damian turns his attention back towards Richard, hastily scoffing as he finishes speaking. “I’m not interested, I just wondered how <em>you</em> of all people could have such a bland room.” A flash of annoyance runs over Richard’s face, lingering long enough for Damian to properly identify it. It’s surprising to say the least; Richard almost never looks that way at him anymore.

Annoyance fades as Richard gazes out past the balcony. “I… lost a lot of stuff in the move.” Damian kicks himself mentally – Richard last lived in New York, but a month ago he overheard him and Drake talk about an old apartment back in Blüdhaven. He’d done some snooping in old casefiles, Richard’s stint there had been quite extended. Extended enough to have his property demolished by a villain even before the entire city was leveled by a nuclear explosion. “Damian.” Richard looks at him, face carefully neutral. “Don’t worry about it, let’s play cards or something.”

Don’t worry about it – how can he not worry about it?! He’d be devastated if he lost the gifts from his mother – some things aren’t replaceable. He gives the room another glance – it’s still empty – but he could fix it slightly. Maybe consult with Drake about the former apartment, if necessary contact – he shudders – the Titans during – he gags – one of their playdates for advice. “Damian are you okay?” Richard looks perplexed.

He shoves his plans back down, first things first, walls and flooring. He turns on the spot, marching out the door. “We’re fixing your room.” He mutters, storming down the hall to grab his laptop.

When he walks back in the room, Richard is staring at him. “What?” He demands, as Richard’s eyes follow him all the way to a chair aside the bed. He’s a bit annoyed at the chair even, it’s from the kitchen, probably dragged in here by his father last night. He adds ‘seating’ to his mental list – if Richard’s ill or injured, it would be nice for Pennyworth or him to be able to sit somewhere.

Richard shuffles back, edging closer and sitting upright against a mountain of pillows. “Nothing. I just thought you weren’t interested.” He cocks an eyebrow as Damian pulls up a paint comparison site.

“I’m not.” He spits. “I don’t want to look at your boring walls anymore.”

Richard laughs again, in his modified way. “Mm. Yup. Sure.”

Damian ignores the comment, already delving into the program, comparing colors against the wall - connecting to the TV to display them, and weighing the pros and cons of each one. Richard watches, providing occasional commentary, rating each color on a scale from one to one hundred. They argue over shades of green, and the correct way to make purple pop – nothing serious, nor work related. Later the room will be full of things, but for now he’s content to let their conversation fill the void.

#bad things happen bingo #batfam #batfamily #batman #dick grayson #damian wayne #absolutely no one requested this so hella self indulgent lmao #oh trying out a new writing style so if it's different that's why #my writing

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yuzukult · 3 years

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i’m bad too 06 (m) || kdy & reader

title: i’m bad too - drabble series pairing: kim doyoung x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, goodboy!doyoung, nerdy!dy (basically he’s a dork) & badgirl!reader, hitman!au, oc-isn’t-a-hitman-but-she-could-be!au, there’s just a lot of unspoken things happening here lol word count: 1.7k warnings: blowjob/handjob (lucky doyoung), sexual usage of ‘oppa’ lol don’t judge a/n: still tryna learn the correct jargon for warnings but this is a drabble so.... very minimal stuff here lmfao

please let me know if anyone wants to be tagged! taglist: @wownajaemin @crescent-iak @ncttboo @byunbaekby ← previous chapter || next chapter →

Doyoung makes you watch an obscene amount of superhero movies. For clarification: Marvel-Cinematic-Universe-kind-of-movies. However, you barely complain. If it means more time with him, you’d even watch Sesame Street just to be in his arms.

He doesn’t like to watch those movies where there’s a way deeper message hidden behind the plot. He lives for the action, sprinkle of comedy, and occasional love interest. But not a ton. Too much romance might set unrealistic expectations, according to him.

Albeit you sort of think he still has a vastly different depiction of love in comparison to you.

For one, in this alternate universe where there’s villains and superheroes, you, without a doubt, are a villain. You’ve tried explaining to him that you fit the stereotype—the whole leather attire plus motorcycle really takes the cake, but he doesn’t even know what you’re up to half the time. In fact, almost every single event you’ve performed a task, you’d show up at his front doorstep, hands remaining dirty from a mission for the Boss, and he’d welcome you with open arms with no idea.

Doyoung doesn’t even have an ounce of a clue what you do.

He’s such a nice guy. Girls practically eat that shit up when they meet him, often overlooking the fact that he holds so many great boyfriend qualities. When you’re sore from “work,” (he questions what you do all the time but you just shrug nonchalantly) he’d always slip off your socks, massage the soles of your feet and finish off the rest of your body with no resistance. He doesn’t expect anything in return—not even sex. Doyoung just gives and gives, nearly never taking.

On one side, you’re glad that most women don’t recognize how perfect of a significant other he is. It gives you time to figure yourself out; how do you become good enough for Kim Doyoung? You’ve already dropped smoking. You’ve been putting more effort in your studies, granted he is your tutor. And you’ve spent the majority of your free time with him. If you ever needed to review material, you’d do it with him, just to show how much you’re trying.

Even if there isn’t a label for the two of you.

You’re friends—but you’re definitely more than just friends. You fuck, but you’re not just fuck buddies either. You’re exclusive but you’re not straightforwardly dating. Doyoung doesn’t hide the fact that he wants you to officially be his girlfriend, although he never forces the idea upon you. He’s content with the circumstances he’s under even though he hopes to have you be his and his only. Nonetheless, it’s under your terms and he never forgets to remind you that.

Honestly, you thought that you might be okay with this. That is, until a pretty gal with shiny black hair, toned body, and gentle voice named Joy came into the picture.

Joy is a given nickname. Her actual birth name is Park Sooyoung, a name as beautiful as the beholder, but people had gotten into the habit of calling her Joy, since… well, she’s such a joy to be around. She’s part of the school’s cheerleading squad, called the ‘Red Velvet Queens,’ plus extremely involved with other extracurriculars, including the competitive tennis team that Doyoung is on. There’s a lot of bitches on the squad, especially with the encounters you’ve had with them, but Joy isn’t one of them. She’s an angel. She’s the woman version of Doyoung.

Doyoung likes to wait outside in the parking lot, right in the unspoken designated spot where you leave your bike. You’ve offered him a ride to school since he often stands idly, except he politely declines, and you speculate that it’s from fear. He remains cute in your eyes despite being a bit of a wuss.

Today, however, he’s not alone. It’s a daily routine that the view of Doyoung leaves you breathless, heart pumping like you’ve gone running, but today is different. Your blood is boiling, smoke whistling out your ears like a kettle on a stove from the heat that lingers around your neck region. Joy stands beside him, the widest grin smacked across her cheeks, lips stained as red as her cheerleading uniform. You wobble on your bike into the parking spot, shutting off the engine before kicking out the stand, pulling the helmet off your head while obnoxiously chewing on a piece of gum in your mouth.

Joy’s gaze meets yours.

She’s sweet, and none of this is her fault. But you kind of hate her presence right now, just because she’s got all of Doyoung’s attention.

Spitting out the gum on the asphalt, you shuffle through your pockets for a toothpick. This stupid toothpick that you’re stuck with because you quit smoking cigarettes for that charming boy. Popping the wooden stick in your mouth, you rake your fingers through your greasy hair, slinging the backpack over your shoulders before walking past Doyoung.

“Sorry, Joy, I’ll catch up with you later,” You hear faintly before his heavy footsteps are rushed, catching up with yours. “Hey-Hey! Where are you going? We’re supposed to meet here. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

You shrug. He’s not happy with that response.

Hand grasping on your shoulder, he halts you in your steps to turn you to face him. As much as you hate to admit it, but you feel this green-eyed monster gnawing on your insides and you’re not a fan of it. “What’s wrong? What did I do? Talk to me.”

“Nothing. I’m busy. You still wanna tutor me later or are you busy making plans with Joy?” You snarl, munching on the pick. Doyoung’s eyes lighten up; he knows the problem now. “Are you jealous?”

“That word isn’t in my dictionary.” It’s a blunt reply, and your unfazed stare is there to support it. “Why would I be jealous of a nice girl like Joy who wants to get with a good boy like you?”

Doyoung likes you, no matter how hard you try to push him away. Your dilemma before was that you always thought a guy like him, so generous, so kind, could never love someone with a charred heart like yours. And yet, here you are, evidently jealous of a girl practically his equal when he’s done nothing but proven to you that you’re the only one he sees.

You want more, and the longer you continue to deny and swallow these feelings, you’re even more desperate to be held by him. In the midst of a tutoring session, you’ve managed to unbutton his cute sky blue dress shirt, unzip his trousers and suddenly his dick is in your mouth.

“We’re supposed to review l-limits,” He stutters over a moan, fingers reaching to comb back your hair. “S-So I told her I couldn’t hang out with her today.”

“Mm,” You hum against the tip, tongue gliding down his shaft. “I heard you the first time.” His thighs tighten when your mouth envelopes down his dick to the base with his head thrown back in the chair of your bedroom. He’s glad that he noticed you take initiative to lock the door today since you often don’t, and the possibility of one of the staff members entering in while sucking on him is kinky but he’s still scared of your brother.

Doyoung lets out a soft gasp when your tongue swipes over his slit where a pearly bead of precum sits. “S-Shouldn’t we— oh fuck—be reviewing materi—ohh?” He sighs; your hands are everywhere; it’s hard for him to focus on anything when you’re gazing up at him through your pretty long lashes with tinged pink cheeks from his cock hitting the back of your throat. He melts under your touch when you graze over his thighs, claiming the territory that he’s succumbed to you willingly. You kiss the head of his cock and he bucks into it. “We’re reviewing a different kind of material. Have you ever been sucked off by a girl before?”

He shakes his head ‘no’, looking down at you with hooded eyes. With his arousal still in your grip, it twitches, yearning for your attention. You hate to admit it, but you’ve obviously tainted his ‘good boy’ persona with him in your bedroom like this, but Doyoung doesn’t think that. Disheveled hair, mouth gaped open, and sweaty forehead is a view of him you engrain in your memory.

Doyoung is a good boy, but he has a body of a bad boy. There’s no way that tennis is the reason behind those washboard abs, toned thighs, and built arms. He’s not as muscular in comparison to Johnny, nor his friend Lucas, but Doyoung is gorgeous like this, perfect in your eyes.

That’s why when you moan around his girth and he sputters, you think he’s got a halo over his head. He’s so pretty, so gorgeous, and you want to see him in all types of forms. Your hand wraps at the base of his dick, mouth wrapping around the red and angry tip, it’s glistening with your saliva as you start pumping him at a pace that leaves his jaw slack, groans bouncing off your bedroom walls.

“Baby,” He calls out the term of endearment raspily, heart racing and abs tightening. A familiar feeling stirs in his stomach, and he knows he’s about to combust. “I’m about to cum, I need a tissue, I—”

“Cum in my mouth, oppa,” You whisper, quickening your movements but calling him “oppa” is what snaps within him, ropes of cum shooting down your throat along with a string of curses and a breathy moan escapes from his lovely lips.

“So,” Doyoung begins, fiddling with his fingers anxiously across the lunch table from you. “You called me ‘oppa’ the other day. That was uh… new. You’ve never called me that before.”

Tying your hair up in a bun with a bobby pin between your teeth, his cheeks flush pink at the thought of you giving him a blowjob in your bedroom the other day, his fingers streaking through those luscious locks, and him cuming in your mouth. Popping out the pin, you slide in to push back a short piece of hair. “Yeah, well, there was a reason for it. You know why.”

Doyoung blinks blankly, utterly confused. “I… don’t. W-Why’d you call me oppa?”

“So you wouldn’t get nervous and just let me swallow.”

#neosmutcollective #doyoung smut #doyoung x reader #nct smut #doyoung #nct 127 #nct u #gyukultfics

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dat-town · 3 years

Text

colour the world with you

Characters: Yeonjun & You

Genre: fluff

Setting: witch shop au

Summary: The crazy hair coloured guy working at the witch shop where your grandma has you run errands for her keeps getting on your nerves.

Words: 3.7k

Author’s note: title is from TXT’s Your Light

For @restlessmaknae to fill your holidays with colours, smiles and happiness.

You told yourself you weren't a believer. People talked about magic as if they had seen it happen but you were doubtful, even when your weak grandma asked you to get a potion for her. When doctors couldn't help, she always turned to alternative methods even though you thought just taking her pills could have helped her. But no, she insisted, put the money into your hands and told you to ask for Han halmeoni's usual. You gritted your teeth but despite not saying it, you were upset how people out there could take advantage of naive elders with their expensive fake herb drinks. Though, you knew better than anyone that arguing with your grandma wouldn't have led anywhere since she was just as stubborn as you. So you agreed with a smile and promised you would get the potion the next day.

Finding the shop called Magic Island – what an obnoxious name for real – was easier than you thought. Witchcraft wasn't hunted or looked down upon as it used to be but you really didn't expect to find it between a coffee shop and a bookstore. From outside it seemed like any other store with its glass windows though it was more colourful and lively than most due to the flowers by the door and the dreamcatcher on the door. You double checked the name and the address then tentatively pressed down on the handle.

As soon as you crossed the threshold, the smell of herbs and spices, burning candle scents and warmth hit you in waves. The whole place gave off a very soothing and welcoming vibe and while the interior was even more colourful than the outside, nothing stood out as much as the vivid blue hair of the guy behind the counter.

"Hello, how can I help you?" he inquired, voice mellow and smile kind. The thin, light blue sweater he wore showed a bit of one of his collarbones and the dangling earring he had in one ear had small blue stones in it. You felt like you had never seen anybody like him.

"I came to pick up something for my grandma, Han halmeoni's usual potion," you recited the rehearsed speech before you could have blurted out something rude. At the mention of your granny, the cashier boy's eyes lit up and he smiled wider.

"Ah, just a minute," he excused himself and leaned down, opening small cabinets full of folies and cans under the counter until he found the glass of the thick green liquid. "Is halmeoni alright though? Has her knee been acting up again?" he asked while he rang up the product and you shouldn't have been surprised that your grandma probably told him about all her life.

"It's her waist this time," you said curtly, wanting to get over the payment as soon as possible. But even after the machine beeped accepting your credit card, the boy with his crazy hair switched on his employee of the mouth smile and kept you there with his rambling:

"It seems like you're quite stressed and anxious recently. Wouldn't you like some chamomile-lavender tea? Or we have a peppermint-citrus cream for headaches, too or–"

"I'm fine," you cut him off not too nicely. Argh... you hated when cashiers were so noisy and he even acted like he knew you just because you weren't in a good mood today but that had nothing to do with your usual exam stress. He couldn't have known about that anyway. And as if some cream would have helped!

The next time you saw the boy he had yellow locks. The unnatural, bright yellow like the fermented radish you liked so much with your traditional Korean dishes. Of course, you didn't go to his shop out of boredom or happiness but for your grandmother's sake you didn't want her to travel across half the city just to get her favourite tea leaves for better digestion. It had been about two months since you had visited the colourful shop, so the changes shouldn't have taken you so aback – after all every shop was usually decorated according to the season – and yet, for a moment you just stood there in the bright warmth of the sunlit room full of buttercups and sunflowers. It almost seemed like the same cashier guy as last time had a hair colour to fit the enterieur but that sounded a bit too ridiculous. Who would have dyed their hair because of their workplace's new decoration? Though who worked at a witch shop in the first place?

"Hi! How can I help you today?" the boy, Yeonjun according to his name tag, flashed a beaming smile at you. He seemed really giddy all the time, maybe being surrounded by all these herbs all day long did something to his brain… or maybe got him high.

"I would like to have a packet of Island of Calm tea," you told him straight, wanting to make it a real quick in and out.

"Ah, for your grandma? I'm glad it helps her," the boy smiled at you sweetly and started humming an annoyingly cheerful song while preparing the packet neatly. He wrapped it up, put on a sticker with good wishes before he would have turned to the cashier machine.

You had already prepared with your wallet but instead of letting you know the price, this Yeonjun guy decided to play with your nerves.

"Sorry about the other day if I came off too strong. We have amulets too if you prefer…"

You slammed down the money on the counter, grabbed the tea and turned to walk out on him before he could have finished that. But...

"It will rain today. Take an umbrella," he shouted after you which only made you snicker.

Hah, who was this guy? He should have minded his own business! The weather forecast didn't say anything about rain anyways.

"I'm fine," you bit at him and walked out.

It didn't even take 10 minutes though for you to get soaking wet in a sudden summer downpour. Under your breath you kept cursing the guy from the magic shop although he had nothing to do with the rain. He just had a good guess.

You really didn't want to go back to the shop. It gave you the chills, like that uneasiness in the stomach that made you want to throw up. You didn't want to go back because you didn't want to hear that crazy hair coloured guy's unwanted preaching about your stress level. You might have been a bit on the edge these days but you were okay, you could handle it. Even if you wished your group partners to Hell sometimes because they couldn't even answer your questions about the schedule and the presentation in your KKT group chat, even if your teacher was a pain in the ass moving the classes as he pleased as if you had nothing better to do. Even if an upcoming family gathering was unnerving you because you didn't want to hear them comparing you to your relatives. It was just a bad time, it would pass, you told yourself, nothing to whine about.

So you took a deep breath, list in hand and you raised your chin before you stepped inside the so-called magic shop. You planned ahead: going to the counter, handing over the list, pretending to get a phone call and leave. Easy and interaction-free. But the moment you stepped inside, the sight this time took your breath away. You really didn't understand how and why the store changed its interior so drastically and so frequently but this look was even more breathtaking than the ones before.

The whole place had a pink hue, it even smelled like cotton candy and everything had this rosy colour from afar. The ceiling looked like a pink sky with white cloud decorations made of cotton. The dreamcatchers and amulets hanging down all sparkled in the shade of blue hour and you forgot why you came for a moment.

"Pretty, isn't it?" A voice spoke up from beside you and only then you realised that the cashier boy wasn't behind the counter like usual but instead he was walking between the shelves in the book section, holding a few volumes in his arms. You jumped at his sudden closeness, blinking up at him surprised and it took you a moment too long to process what you had been seeing.

The guy had bright pink hair.

And it looked strangely good on him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned and only then you realised that you had been staring. At the way his locks looked against his tanned forehead. At the way he pulled his mouth into a gentle smile and suddenly you felt like the air was getting sucked out of your lungs. What the hell were you doing? Why did he suddenly have such an effect on you?

"Yeah, I'm fine," you muttered, clearing your throat, stepping away.

You walked up to the counter confidently and the boy didn't try to stop you. He didn't say anything, not even as he followed you and took your paper with the list your grandma suddenly needed after you complained to her about the nosy guy in the shop. He prepared the small box with different herbs, creams and lucky charms wordlessly which was a bit unsettling. You only met him twice before yet it seemed like it was out of character for him. But you tried not to think too much into it and just watched him work.

When Yeonjun read your total out loud for you and you handed your card to him there was something knowing in his eyes that you couldn't quite put a finger on.

"You know you should really stop saying you're fine when you aren't," he spoke up finally when he gave you back the plastic but instead of letting it go, he looked down on your hand intently. Not understanding the reason behind it you followed his gaze and saw that you managed to cut your finger earlier with the paper when you got startled. You didn't even feel it up until then even though it drew a bit of blood, a few drops drying on your index finger.

"Let me," the boy muttered as he let go and looked around on a shelf not far from the counter.

"It's nothing really," you protested but you felt bad because he shouldn't have been worried about you just because it was him who got you scared. You should have paid more attention.

"It could get infected," he reasoned as he got back with some lotion in a small capsule. He took your hand, gentle and you realised that his hands were soft despite the calluses on his fingertips. Not to mention, it was endearing how attentive he was, even sticking out his tongue a bit in concentration as he put a plaster over the oil-coated wound.

"Thanks," you breathed not really knowing what else you could say and you couldn't even anymore, not with the way he smiled at you, warm like the Sun and soothing like spring breezes.

As you were leaving you couldn't help but think that the way he said those words about you pretending to be okay was about more than just your scar. Maybe he had a great sense for such things.

It was not until you got home that you noticed the extra object in the packet you bought at the shop. You even double-checked with your grandma's list but a scent bag of herbs for better sleeping weren't on that and you didn't even pay for that, so how?

The answer was ridiculously easy: the cashier guy must have sneaked it into your bag, yet you didn't get his reason and why he always tried to have a say in your life but then you looked down on the cute pink plaster on your finger and decided to accept the gift. Even though you didn't believe in it, you put it under your pillow for the night like you were instructed. You almost forgot about it because by the time it was bedtime for you your head was full of unnecessary drama and thoughts that were driving you crazy. On nights like this it was hard to fall asleep because you had too many what ifs going on inside of your head. But this time, even before you could have realised it, you were already drifting off to sleep, tense shoulders relaxing, head empty. You didn't remember when you last slept so well.

So maybe it was confusion, gratitude or the mix of those two that led you back to the Magic Island only a few days later, this time without your grandma having to make you. This time you were expecting the change of interior, so the universe-like violet colours and planets flying around (must be some kind of trick) didn't take you that aback. Yeonjun was nowhere to be seen even though the bells rang prettily above the door when you arrived.

For once, you decided to take a look around, so tentatively you wandered deeper into the store, into parts you hadn't been before. You had seen tarot cards in one corner and Ouija boards in another, there were books about ghosts and other dimensions. There was a whole section about curses and a closed off one for potions. You were reading some of the ridiculously long tea names (and why does The night when the world has burned, we are… has chilli in it anyways?) when you heard someone clear their throat. You turned around to face them but your hello died on the tip of your tongue.

Now Yeonjun's hair was purple, that dark but warm kind, like nights on which the sky seemed to embrace you.

"Does halmeoni need something else?" he looked up at you with a genuine, kind smile.

"No, I... Actually I just wanted to thank you for the scent bag," you muttered under your nose, a bit embarrassed but determined to be a bigger person and not act petty over an act of kindness.

"Did it help?" Yeonjun's eyes lit up immediately, straight up happily when you nodded. The smile on his face widened. "Then you're welcome."

You just stood there, uncertain, not knowing what to say or do because apparently he was well aware that he gifted you that and it seemed like he didn't expect anything in return. Not to mention that he figured out that you barely had any sleep lately and cinnamon was one of your favourite scents. Was it just a coincidence? Or did the bags under your eyes betray you like that? Was cinnamon just a lucky guess?

"How did you know?" you blurted out eventually, not getting over your internal struggle. For a moment Yeonjun just looked at you, really looked as if he tried to figure you out and he was rather tentative when he spoke up:

"You don't believe in magic, do you?"

You raised an eyebrow as if asking: seriously? at which he let out a chuckle. His laughter made such a pleasant sound!

"Well, then you could say it was just a good hunch," he shrugged and his carefree attitude made you even more curious, throwing you more recklessly into the unknown.

"And if I said I believe in it?" you wondered out loud and the cashier guy looked back at you as if it was a challenge. Maybe it was since you were interested in how he would try to convince you about magic being real.

"It's your aura," he said simply, looking at you and at the same time around you and started explaining: "It has a different energy based on your mood and well-being. It wasn't that hard to figure out based on that."

You hummed, trying to see whether your rational mind could take it as an answer but even auras and halos and such seemed too... intangible for you. Yeonjun must have sensed your hesitance because a moment later he straightened his back and tilted his head.

"It's easier to show you," he offered, waiting, patient. He must have learned that being pushy with you didn't work because the more he insisted, the more you resisted. But putting it this way: him offering a chance for you to see and believe but with no pressure, it made you halt. Because all your life you had liked certain things. You liked plans, schedules, believing in things you saw or experienced. Maybe that's why magic had always been obnoxious for you: you had met with too many liars and fakes.

You slowly, tentatively nodded.

"Close your eyes," Yeonjun smiled at you encouragingly and albeit not liking the idea of becoming vulnerable even this much, you obeyed. About five seconds passed before the boy called your name. "You can open them."

Not expecting any big change, you were at a loss of words when Yeonjun stood in front of you with silver grey hair. And not just that! The shop's interior changed in a blink of a minute, too. It was no longer purple but rather monochrome, serious, angular.

"How?" you gasped in awe.

"Magic," Yeonjun smiled and laughed at you before explaining that his mother was a witch, so he's partly one too and that the shop is enchanted, changing based on his mood or will, similarly as his hair colour. It was still unbelievable but you couldn't deny the obvious, so instead of protesting against it anymore, you threw your dozen questions at the boy to which he answered very enthusiastically.

After that afternoon, you slowly started to become a regular at Magic Island. Not only when your grandma had an errand to run but you visited the shop even when you got tired of your scent bag's type or due to another excuse. It was easy to come up with those when you had so many questions. With Yeonjun by your side guiding you through a whole new world opened up in front of you. After your uni classes, you sometimes dropped by to read a book between the shelves about auras and the harmony with nature or potions that actually worked until Yeonjun found you there. Sometimes he called you out on never buying the books but it was only a friendly, teasing banter that ended up with him inviting you over for some herb tea matching your mood (a lot of sweet strawberry and rose mint lately). On other occasions, he joined you on the floor, leaning his back onto the bookshelf too, his arm almost brushing yours as he asked about what you were currently reading about.

He also told you a lot of fun stories and while chuckling over his jokes your stomach didn't ache only due to laughter. You hated to call this feeling as 'butterflies in your stomach' but you had no better word for it and being so good at reading your aura, Yeonjun must have known, too. Yet, he didn't say anything, so you decided to take matters into your hands.

When you opened the door of the magic store on that chilly December afternoon after finally finishing with your exams before winter break, the first thing that hit you was the cinnamon and plum scent. You inhaled deeply and smiled at the Christmassy atmosphere inside the store with the festive decoration. Yeonjun must have had the holiday spirit these days, you thought and it seemed like right because the boy walked out of the storage room in a cute snowman sweater and with faded lavender coloured hair.

"Heya, how was the exam?" he turned to you with a bright smile which you couldn't help but mimic as you walked up to the other side of the counter.

"Manageable," you shrugged, happy that you were finally done with it. Then before you could have chickened out during your conversation, you blurted out: "Do you perhaps have the opposite of love potions?"

"Like an antiserum? Did someone give you a love potion?" Yeonjun wiggled his eyebrows but his tone was kind of worried. Cute, you noted.

"No but I'd like this stupid crush gone," you sighed and even grimaced for impact, watching the boy's reaction closely but he seemed more curious and a bit confused than anything.

"Why?"

"I just..." You vaguely threw your hands up and pouted which Yeonjun must have found endearing because the mischievousness was back in his glittering dark eyes and the smirk was on his lips again as he leaned provocatively closer.

"And if I like you back?" he raised an eyebrow and the confidence in his voice made your jaw drop.

The audacity!

"I'm not talking about you!" you retorted right away but more out of pride and teasing than honesty. You couldn't hide that too well from the witch boy either as his grin only widened seeing your blushed cheeks.

"Too bad," he snickered playfully, his lower lip jutting out in a sulky pout. Then he pulled back in an instant, brushing his lavender hair out of his eyes with an overdramatic sigh. "And I was about to suggest a hot chocolate date..."

"A date you say?" you breathed with a hopeful smile and rested your palms on the counter while this time it was you who leaned closer. Not that it meant a lot because with Yeonjun's height, you just had to angle your neck even more sharply. At least until he decided to scrunch down to your level, dark orbs glimmering in the colourful lights of the shop.

"That I say," he nodded and briefly looked up prompting you to do the same only to see a white mistletoe slowly growing and hanging down above you.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, mister," you flicked his forehead but giggled anyway knowing all too well that your aura must have been just as pink as your cheeks. But you didn't mind one bit, not until it was Yeonjun who made your world so colourful.

#txt scenarios #txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun fluff #txt fluff #stories

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byeongqueen · 3 years

Note

Hiii, your writing is amazing. Could you do a SFW alphabet with Seoho?

There you go, sorry it took so long !

Pairing: Lee Seoho x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Alphabet

Word count: 1.277

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He is affectionate, and will show it rather with words, or little attentions that come out of nowhere, rather than big displays of physical affection.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Would probably start by you hating on how loud he could be. Like if you started knowing each other in class, you’d be probably annoyed by him because of that, but soon learn that he’s a complete sweetheart.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He likes it, but it’s not his favorite thing in the world. Like he’ll obviously cuddle if you two are reading, or watching a movie, but he’s not the type to lay in bed just to cuddle.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He’s like a godmother fairy. He might not have the initiative of cleaning most of the times, but if you ask for help he’ll gladly do it, and boy is he good at it. He likes when everything is tidy and clean.

He might want to settle down someday. That’s not his first priority right now, but he can well imagine a domestic life.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Even if Seoho is an emotional boy, I don’t see him crying in front of his partner. He might do it later on, when he’s alone, or with someone very close that could comfort him.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

He is one faithful guy, I just know it. As for marriage, he’d probably want to as well, just to experience the magic of the moment.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Gentlest boy, especially emotionally. He’s always careful of not saying something he could regret, and if he does, by mistake, he’ll spend days making it up to you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He likes big hugs when in private. If you’re not alone, he’ll still have probably an arm wrapped around you. If he gets jealous, or carried away by an emotion, he’ll probably bear hug you though, not caring if anyone is here.

His hugs ar as soft as they’re full of force, and love.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He could probably say it quite fast ? I see him as someone who is not scared to say it, and will probably repeat it a lot.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s very good. I mean, if Seoho was the one singing me lullabies, I’d wish to be a child to. He doesn’t want children on his own that fast, but he still enjoys it when you’re having nephews or young cousins over.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Not lazy mornings, but you won’t get out of bed at 6 am as well. You might both spend an hour or so just cuddling when you have the time to, just enjoying each others presence.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He likes to go out at night a lot. Because of his job, most of his days and nights are spent at the company, and they don’t really have a lot of time to go to the cinema, or eat out. So when it’s just the two of you, he’d want to do that a lot. It also happens sometimes that some of the Oneus members will tag along.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It’s not that he’s not open, but he’s very hard to read? He won’t hide things or anything on purpose, that’s just his character, the way he is.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He is clearly not the most patient one of the members. He’s not the one to yell or anything, but if he’s annoyed, he’ll clearly make it understandable.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Seoho has amazing memory. He’ll probably even remember details that you’ve forgotten yourself.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time he took you out to dance. He loved how you felt under his hands, how beautiful you looked.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He wants to be protective, but he also knows that you can do it yourself, and that he shouldn’t always intervene. He tends to get scared about you a lot, but tries to control it.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Expect a lot of spontaneous dates, or hang outs. Like the boy will text you, ask if you’re doing anything, and if you say no, he’ll be like « good, because i’m already at your front door ».

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Not telling you when something bothers him. Well its not only just not telling you, it’s actually not telling anyone, and letting things bottle up.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not that much ? He has a lot of confidence in his looks, so he’s not going to check himself in the mirror every 5 minutes.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Seoho attaches himself easily to someone, and deeply, so I think yes. He’s going to be okay as long as his mind is occupied, but at night for example, when he’s alone, he might miss you more than ever.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

I know you saw that coming, but singing. The boy sings all the time, and to be frank, that’s not something you mind. If it could have come across as annoying before you guys started dating, now you’d feel it extremely weird if he doesn’t sing during the day. It’s often an indicator that he doesn’t feel good.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He seems like he doesn’t like very loud or obnoxious people. He doesn’t want all the attention on him, so he probably won’t like a partner that tries to get it on themselves.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

The kind to put his head on your shoulder, or in the crook of your neck to fall asleep. He’ll probably shift around during the night so he can hold you close to him.

#oneus #oneus fluff #oneuswewriters #lee seoho #seoho #oneus seoho #seoho fluff #sfw alphabet

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

just the girl

request from nonnie!!! “Hello gorgeous! I love your writing! Could I please get a George one where the reader is younger(like harry) and she is kind of shy but George loves her and flirt with her but she thinks he is just messing with her?”

word count: 4.4k

pairing: george x hufflepuff fem!reader

A/N: okay i strayed a biiiiit and didn’t make her like suuuuper shy but i definitely made her oblivious and i hope that’s okay?? also, i’ve had “just the girl” by the click five stuck in my head whilst writing this so that’s where the title idea/end dialogue come from lol

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am | send me a quick message if you’d like to be added darlings!

The only thing to ever distract George Weasley from his schoolwork has been pranking and mischief; it’s always been that way, ever since he was born, with his twin by his side. But now, he thinks, watching you across the Great Hall after not having seen you due to a very long summer holiday, everything else might just need to be put on the back burner.

How had he never noticed you in this light before? A thought crosses his mind now: he’s been far too preoccupied with creating types of chaotic mischief across the castle. Maybe he needs to rethink his priorities a bit. It’s not that he’s never thought about girls: hell, he thinks about them nearly all the time. But not like this. He’s never been so captivated in his entire life.

Your smile is lighting up nearly the entire Hall; how everyone at every table isn’t staring at you is beyond him. George can hardly help himself; his eyes are glued to you. His friends notice this and someone punches him in the arm, earning a sharp yell and a glare from him.

“Ow,” he says through gritted teeth after coming back to reality. He groans at what’s coming. He then turns to Fred, who’s laughing a bit, and says, “You’re a right git, you know that?”

“Oi, go over there and talk to her, would you?” Fred suggests, making the entire group of rowdy Gryffindors roar with laughter, “or at least quit the staring—you’re making yourself rather obvious, you know.”

George feels his throat tighten as he sinks into his seat; next to him, Ron is giggling quietly into his cup of porridge. “Go with the latter, mate—stop looking at her, would you? Merlin! You’re going to frighten the poor girl.”

He feels his heart begin to pound a bit harder against his ribcage; he hates feeling nervous—probably more than he hates sitting through Potions class. He swallows thickly, turns to his sister and says quietly, “Oi, Gin, you and Luna are friendly with Y/N, right?”

Ginny looks up from her bowl of cereal and nods her head before shooting a cheeky grin at her brother.

“You’ve spent quite some time with her before then, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course,” Ginny replies, taking a swig of her drink, “but so have you, you git. She hangs out with us all the time. You’ve known one another since your third year.”

George frowns. “Yeah, but.. I don’t know her nearly as well as you. Always sort of gravitates toward you, doesn’t she? She’s sort of.. turned off by my pranks a little bit.”

“Then stop the pranking,” Ginny winks.

George lets out a scoff. “Right. D’you not know me but at all?”

“It’s not that she’s turned off, George,” Ginny tells him and he feels himself relax a bit. She scoops up some more cheerios onto her spoon, “her life just doesn’t revolve around pranking people. She’s sort of shy. But I promise, she gets a rise out of your mischief.”

“She does?”

Ginny rolls her eyes as she entertains the idea that her brother might quite possibly be in love.

“Yeah, she does, so—talk to her then, would you?” Ginny tells her brother, taking a long swig of her drink. “She’s on the Hufflepuff team this year! New Chaser, she is. There, already have something to chat about other than pranking, alright?”

You? Quidditch? Girl of his dreams, you are. That aspect excites him. What he’s afraid of, he thinks of now, is trying to get you to open up to him. Maybe it won’t be as difficult as he thinks, considering you’ve known one another for quite some time now. A smile tugs at the edges of his lips when he watches your head fall back as you laugh—a laugh he can’t hear, but wants too more than anything else.

If there’s one thing George Weasley loves, it’s a challenge.

— -

George is finding it quite difficult to spend any time with you, much to his dismay. Not only are you in a different house, but you’re two years younger which means you’ve got absolutely no classes together. He reckons that Herbology wouldn’t be as boring if you were in class with him. He frowns at the thought.

So when he sees you rounding the bend in the corridor one day after emerging from an afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, he immediately seizes his chance for a chat.

“Oi, Georgie!” Fred calls as George leaves him, Ron, Harry and Neville in his dust, “where’re you off to, then?”

“Sorry boys,” George calls back, winking, “Have got a few things to take care of—meet you later in the common room.”

He leans against the wall and watches you, a dazed sort of grin grows on his face when he notices that smile again. He feels a pang in his heart when he thinks of just how long it’s taken him to really notice it.

You meet his gaze and clutch your books tighter into your chest; when you pass him, he ignores a few other Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws by your side, acting as if you’re the only two in the corridor. “Hey, beautiful.”

You roll your eyes and can’t help but smile. “Hi, George,” you reply sweetly, not stopping to hold a conversation. He’s quick on his feet, though, and follows you down the other end of the hallway. He feels poorly for you when he notices that you’re headed for the dungeons. “Good summer holiday?”

“Pretty good—happy to be back, though. And you?”

You ignore his question and wiggle your eyebrows at him. “Not getting into any trouble already, are we?”

“Not currently, dunno about later.. too early to tell,” he smiles a bit smugly, tugging on your arm and pulling you back, leaving your friends walking toward the dungeons without you. You turn around, now face to face with him, and he’s leaning casually against the wall, his arms folded across his chest.

“Better be careful—I hear Snape’s just dying to give out detentions. In a right foul mood, he is.. and it’s only the first week.”

“Shame you’re heading to Potions, then.”

“Would much rather be out on the pitch, mind you.”

“Oh yeah,” George replies, suddenly remembering what Ginny had told him, “how’s it feel then? Heard you’re one of the new Chasers this year. Heard you’re pretty wicked.”

“Yeah?” you raise your eyebrows and George can’t help but feel his insides constrict at your glistening eyes. “What else have you heard?”

He laughs a bit, running a hand through his messy hair. “That Gryffindor’s got a run for their money now.”

“Glad to hear my skills are being spoken about so highly amongst the houses.”

George is loving this; you’re a lot less shy than he remembers—nothing at all like you were when you two first met. Maybe more has changed over the summer that he doesn’t know about yet. His heart’s thundering at the thought. “Don’t think for a second we’re going to take it easy on you.”

There it is—that laugh he’s been dying to hear. He’s nearly putty in your hands at the sound of it. Luckily, though, George is pretty good at hiding his skittishness and replacing it with a flirtatious grin or banter. He bites down on his lip to keep from grinning like mad when you say, “Do your worst then, George.”

The bell rings suddenly, making you both jump, signaling five minutes until the beginning of the next lesson. You raise your eyebrows and nod toward the dungeons, “Better get going. Don’t want the wrath of Snape upon me.” You grin a bit and walk backwards down the empty corridors and George is nearly losing it at how bloody adorable you are, “See you later?”

“Yeah,” he says, confidence engulfing him, “see you.”

He can’t help but shake his head in admiration when he watches you turn back around, sling your arm behind your back and wiggle a few fingers at him in a wave as you vanish down the staircase.

— -

“Hey—what the bloody hell was that all about this afternoon? Thought you two were supposed to cause some type of diversion on the fifth floor corridors after lunch? You were nowhere to be seen!”

Ron’s face turns sour as his elder twin brothers just laugh at this. To him, Fred replies, “Think of our mischief as being on.. a semi-hiatus. Few days, tops.”

“Merlin,” Ginny mutters, looking down at her shoes, “what did you two do already?”

“We didn’t do anything,” Fred tells his sister. He leans back into the couch and relaxes. “Georgie here has some other things he needs to take care of first.”

Harry and Ron make obnoxious sounding kissing noises; Ginny, on the other hand, just rolls her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re actually going after her.”

George raises his hands in confusion. “You’re the one who told me to go and talk to her more.”

“I didn’t think you were actually serious!”

“Ah well—should pay more attention to your older brother, then, shouldn’t you?” George asks, looking rather smug. He takes a long swig of his tea before placing his feet up on the table in front of him. “Besides, she’s a lot less shy than you seem to remember, Gin.”

Ginny rolls her eyes again, mutters something that slightly resembles a whatever, you git, and turns back to the book she’s clutching very tightly in her hands.

“So,” Ron begins again, turning his attention toward the twins, “Few days, you say?”

“Yes,” the twins chorus together. Fred continues, “Really, though, we’re trying to steer clear of Snape for the time being—bloke seems to show up wherever we go, he’s in a right awful mood and I, for one, don’t feel like starting out the new year with a weekend full of detentions under my belt.”

Under her breath, Ginny mutters, “because that’s so different than every other year?” George playfully chucks a throw pillow at her, and is delighted to see her finally chuckle a bit.

“What’s the plan then, George?” Harry asks, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. “I reckon you’re going to take it easy on her now that she’s our opponent, yeah?”

The boys erupt in laughter, prompting Ginny to move to the other side of the common room to immerse herself in conversation with Hermione, Parvati, and Katie. To the group, George just replies, “Haven’t got a plan, really. Just going to try and wing it.”

— -

Harry lets out a huff, looking positively dreadful. He’s crouched down behind the twins at the entrance to the changing rooms and he says to the two of them, “This has got to be illegal, hasn’t it?”

“Nah—not illegal if we don’t get caught,” George winks, not taking his eyes off of the pitch.

“Relax, mate, it’s fine,” Fred says in a hushed whisper, “that’s why we’ve got the Invisibility Cloak. Merlin, Harry, it’s like you’ve never snuck out before.”

The twins laugh and Harry relaxes; sneaking out is nothing new to him.

They should be in the Great Hall, working on their assignments due for their lessons, but George had insisted on coming to spy on the competition. Fred nearly yelped at the idea; Harry needed some persuading. But honestly, George doesn’t care at all about the competition. He only cares about you.

He’s enamored at your Chasing skills—you’re a lot faster than he originally thought, getting the quaffle through the hoops each and every time. He’s feeling a bit nervous at how Gryffindor is going to bear with you and the other new Chaser and new Beater. It’s probably the best team Hufflepuff’s had in years.

“Eh, new Beater isn’t that good,” he hears Fred saying to him and Harry, but he’s not paying a lick of attention, “and they’ve still got the same Seeker as last year, and you know his weaknesses, Harry, so I reckon we should be alright.”

Everyone lands on the pitch with ease and heads right toward the changing rooms. George can’t help but notice the way the yellow color of your robes makes your eyes sparkle even more. Fred then says, “Ready to go then? Have got a massive Charms essay to finish up.”

But George ignores this; instead, he lifts the cloak from over him and is again visible to anyone in the surrounding area. He laughs at whispered yelps from both Fred and Harry, and he swears he hears a, If we’re caught I’m going to murder you, mate!

He frowns at this but continues to ignore it; adrenaline is coursing through his body like a rapid fire. He walks toward the group with his hands in his pockets, looking as if he’s just been out for a casual stroll, when once again, you meet his gaze.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

“Seeing you two times in one week?” you ask, placing a hand on your hip. “Aren’t I a lucky one.”

George smirks at you and wants nothing more than to sneak you into the Gryffindor common room later tonight. This scheme, he thinks, would definitely, probably, most certainly earn him detentions for weeks, if not months. “Well I may have heard you were out here, came to see you.”

“Is that so?”

“I just can’t help myself.”

“Not spying on us, are you, Georgie?”

“Spying? Never,” he replies gleefully. Making you laugh is just about his favorite thing. He nods toward the pitch, glad to see that the rest of the team has made it inside the changing rooms, leaving you two alone, “how’d practice go?”

“You Gryffindors better prepare—best lineup we’ve had in years. I daresay we might actually be able to get our hands on the cup.”

George laughs at this, not at all caring about the fact that if Fred had heard you say this, he’d nearly be up in arms at the thought of Gryffindor losing. George, however, doesn’t mind that much. Not if it means he’d get you in return. “I’d like to see you try.”

You release your hair from it’s ponytail and George cannot shake the feeling that he’s got something very sharp lodged in his throat. He clears it once, twice, three times before finally feeling it subside. You grin, elbow him playfully and say, “Don’t worry. I will.”

— -

Hogsmeade is absolutely swarmed with students, it being the first trip of the school year, and all. In fact, it’s so crowded, that George can hardly see through the sea of people. He follows his brothers into Honeydukes to pick up some much needed candy items before heading back to Hogwarts for the evening feast.

“I reckon you can never have too many chocolate wands,” Ron says brightly, pulling as many as he can off of the shelves. Quite a sweet tooth he has. Then he notices some caramel cobwebs and grabs a fistful of those, too.

“Ronald, leave room for dinner, would you?” Hermione teases him as he pays for his goodies; she then steals a wand out of his hand and bites into it, smiling giddily. Ron turns a bright shade of pink.

“Zonko’s next?” Fred asks the crowd, examining the sugar quill he’s just purchased. He then gingerly sticks it into his bag and heads toward the exit. “C’mon—we’ve got to get back soon and I’ve a lot I need to purchase still.”

And so everyone follows Fred from Honeydukes and back out onto the very crowded street. George is now losing all hope of spotting you, and Ginny’s been no help—when asked if you’d be here today, Ginny merely shrugged her shoulders, noting that she hadn’t been able to talk with you much recently due to your very different schedules as well as being in different houses. George huffs a bit and then freezes: he notices you, standing with two of your friends, in a line outside of Madam Puddifoot’s.

Harry notices this and slings an arm around George’s shoulders, “Mate, you’ve got to be kidding.”

“No self respecting bloke will step foot into Madam Puddifoot’s,” Ron chimes in, mouth full of chocolate. “I mean, it’s meant for couples who need to spend less time snogging and more time coming up for air.”

George agrees; he slams his hands in his pockets and keeps his eyes on you. Just the sight of the tea shop alone is making him cringe; of course he wants to be with you. But George Weasley isn’t much of a corny type of bloke, and he reckons you’re not that type of girl, either.

“Yeah, but she’s not with anyone, is she? A guy, I mean,” George tells them, shrugging them off and handing Fred his purchases. “Hang onto that for me, will you? Thanks. See you all back at the castle.”

As George nearly skips across the cobblestone, Fred shakes his head and throws his hands up in surrender. “Oh, yeah, sure thing—I’d be more than happy to carry all this junk for you, mate.”

George just ignores this; he can feel his heart begin to flutter when he watches you run your fingers over the spine of a notebook you’re holding—a new item from Scrivenshaft’s, he’s sure of it. He grins to himself before quietly stepping behind you, and gently taps you on the shoulder. “Didn’t take you for a Madam Puddifoot’s type.”

You whirl around, obviously a bit frightened by his sudden appearance. You bring a hand swiftly to your heart and say through some nervous laughter, “Blimey! You gave me a fright.” The two of you begin to laugh and George notices your two friends peering at you both before erupting into whispers. You turn back to him and shake your head as if to say, Ignore them, and continue on, “I reckon this is about the cheesiest place in all of Hogsmeade! But I have to admit—I’m a sucker for her tea.”

“So not here on a date, are you?”

“A date? Merlin, no! The reason I even step foot in this place, besides the tea, is to seemingly laugh at all of the couples in here—have you ever taken a peek around, George? Some of them are so clueless it’s actually painful.”

He’s nearly melting at your banter, and is surprisingly uplifted to hear that you’re not the type of girl who is looking to be all sickeningly sweet on a date in what’s been deemed as the most romantic spots for young couples. He reckons you’d much rather be throwing quaffles through hoops instead.

Suddenly, the door opens and a jingle signals the entrance of the next group—you, George, and your two friends. He raises his eyebrows and says, “Well let’s take a peek then, shall we?”

And it’s exactly as you’ve described, and exactly what he expects: couples, hardly drinking their tea, but instead peering lovingly into one another’s eyes as if in some type of hypnotized trance, or with their lips locked together without coming up for any air. You turn back to George, wiggle your eyebrows at him and begin to laugh, keeping your voice low. “What’d I tell you?”

“Merlin,” he replies breathlessly, spotting Seamus Finnegan tucked away in a corner with a Ravenclaw. “It’s worse than I thought.”

“Yeah, but—” you stop, handing him a cup of steaming hot liquid, “try the tea! It’s worth it alone to deal with all these people in love.” Your face turns sour at your own words, and you and George find yourself falling into laughter yet again. George swears he hears whispering from your two friends a few feet away.

“You’re right, it’s delicious,” he replies, not breaking your gaze, “and yeah, it’s… a bit much,” you giggle sweetly and turn to look at two young Slytherins attached at the hip, “but I reckon if you’re with the right person, it’s not so bad.”

A soft smile spreads itself across your face, and George can feel his insides go warm and gooey. “Oh yeah? Going soft on me?”

He sips his tea again lightly, poking you gently in the ribs. “With you? I just might be.”

— -

When George pops through the portrait hole that evening, a very smug grin plastered onto his face, it only takes the lot about five and a half seconds before bombarding him with questions and a bit of teasing.

“Oh lookout, there he is now—been snogging her in Puddifoot’s this whole time, have you?” Fred frowns and chucks a throw pillow at him, but George is quick and catches it.

“Nah, he couldn’t be, mate,” Ron tells Fred from the ground as he leans against the couch, “you’ve got to properly ask a girl out before getting to that level, and we know Georgie hasn’t gotten there yet, has he?” Raucous laughter echoes throughout the common room from him, Fred, and Harry.

“Leave George alone,” Hermione and Ginny scold together. Then Hermione continues, “Just because you three don’t know how to properly treat a woman—”

George stands up a little straighter. “Ah—cheers, Hermione.”

“So you’ve done it, then?”

“Reckon my dating life isn’t really any of your business, Ron,” George replies cheekily. He then quickly heads up to the boys dormitory, changes into comfortable clothes, and comes back down, only to climb back out through the portrait hole and into the corridors. “Hey, where’re you off too?” Ginny calls.

George ignores this; he jumps back out, not paying a lick of attention to the singing of the Fat Lady, and is delighted to see that you’re still standing there, leaning against the wall, picking at the sleeves of your sweater. You look up and grin; he’s beginning to feel those nerves again. “Ready?” you ask.

The two of you head straight for the pitch, now surely very dark—it’s almost after hours, but he doesn’t mind, and he’s happy that you don’t either. Whilst spending most of the afternoon making a mockery out of those couples in Puddifoot’s, you and George had fallen into an animated conversation revolving Quidditch, which seems to be a lot about what you two discuss these days.

You’re both hovering above the ground; the pitch is nearly completely black. George can only see you in the moonlight shining down on you both from the night sky. You say to him, blocking the goal posts, “Do your worst, Weasley.”

He’s not used to acting as Chaser, and you, a Keeper. But despite his ruddy awful tries at launching the quaffle through the goal posts, and your creative, albeit a bit dangerous, attempts at blocking these potential goals, you two still end up falling into a fit of hysterics and nearly falling off of your brooms. George could stay here for hours, into the dead of night, not a care in the world..

He feels his heart begin to race a bit and frowns at the sight of a few lights turning off within the castle. It’s evident to you both, now, that it’s far past curfew, and if Snape catches you both out here, you’re done for. Without saying anything, the both of you land on the grass and slowly make your way back toward the castle. “I reckon Keeper is definitely not on my list of Quidditch skills,” you tell him, laughing lightly.

He shrugs and grins at you, “You’re better than you think you are.”

“I should play with you more often—full of compliments, you are.”

“Can you blame me? I just—you’re kind of brilliant—”

“Oooh,” you say a bit teasingly, jabbing him in the ribs, “you about to confess your love for me, or something?”

He just smiles.

A bit taken aback, you ask skittishly, “A-are you?”

His grin deepens at your flustered words. “Well, yeah, I am.” he says plainly, as if it’s obvious.

Your eyes dart back and forth between him and the castle. It’s obvious to him that you’re feeling a bit nervous now. “Are you serious?”

George laughs haughtily, placing his broom down on the ground as he inches closer to you. “Haven’t I been making myself obvious?”

“I—I mean,” you stammer, tripping over your words as if the sight of him is making you tongue tied. There she is, he thinks. Shy, sweet girl you’ve always been. “You’ve.. you’ve always been flirty! I kind of just thought it was a joke?”

He pretends to fall back dramatically, and is delighted to hear you laugh a bit. “That hurts, Y/N, I was kind of hoping you’d be able to tell that I’m mad for you.”

A grin tugs at your lips, and George feels his nerves begin to subside at the dazed look on your face. “Soooo, you weren’t joking?”

“I’m always joking, love,” he says playfully, now just centimeters from you, and he snakes an arm around your waist, “just not about this.”

You swallow thickly, and now he’s leaning in. His voice is nearly a whisper.

“If you want me to stop—”

“Don’t stop,” you tell him breathlessly.

When his lips touch yours, he feels a chill declare war on his bones; it’s as if all of the adrenaline in the world is surging through his body at this exact moment. He’s quite sure he’s short-circuited, and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as your fingers creep gently across his shoulder blades and into his hair. It’s slow and tender and soft, the way first kisses should be, the way he’s been imagining it.

Both of you pull away gently, and he hovers for a moment and smiles before pulling away fully. Your arms are still draped over his shoulders and his hands tighten around your hips; he’s definitely not going to sleep tonight, not after this, and he fully plans on going to class in the morning with some kind of hangover. “It’s crazy how you went from being just some girl—”

You grin lazily and he feels as though he’s about to spontaneously combust.

“Now you’re just the girl,”

You roll your eyes at this. “Ugh, has Madam Puddifoot’s made you corny, now?”

“Nah, it’s you,” he replies, pressing his forehead to yours, “you just bring out this side of me.”

You shoot a smug smile his way. “Hmm,” you begin, pausing to consider the conversation and think for a moment. You blink a few times, and he’s a right mess at the feeling of your eyelashes brushing his cheekbones, “can’t believe the effect I have on you. Can’t bloody wait for our match then, huh? Try not to get so flustered, Georgie.”

He grins against your lips and before kissing you fully again, he says, “Can’t make any promises, love.”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, thank you for reading and requesting loves x

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todisturbtheuniverse · 3 years

Text

FIC: Adjacent Truths

Rating: M Fandom: Stardew Valley Pairing: Shane/Female Farmer, Shane & Jas Tags: Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Friendship, Pre-Relationship Word Count: 1900 Summary: Jas overheard something Shane can't take back, and it's eating him alive. The farmer notices. Also on AO3. Notes: Post-4 Heart Event—a direct sequel of it, if you will. Content warning for suicidal ideation.

When Jas had still been just a baby, Charlotte had told Shane that something changes in your brain after you have a kid. Hormones, chemicals, neurons firing, all fine-tuning, honing in on the sound of the baby's cry, making interpretations on an instinctual level. He'd panicked when Jas had started crying apparently unprovoked in his arms, but Charlotte hadn't even twitched. "She's just hungry," she'd said, with her tired-happy smile.

"She seems mad about it," Shane had said, looking down into the scrunched-up, red face, the tiny mouth open in a hiccuping wail.

"She gets that from Patrick."

But Shane wasn't, had never been, Jas's parent. By the time he'd learned to sort her hungry-crying from her tired-crying and everything else, she'd been nearly out of babyhood.

And there was no easy fix, anyway, for the way he'd made her cry this time.

She avoided him after what she'd overheard. He didn't blame her. She was a smart kid; it was a good time to cut her losses, free herself of any emotional attachment she had to him. Marnie would be a better guardian than he was, anyway. Maybe the ranch wasn’t doing all that great, but no one in the valley was, and they all managed to keep limping along somehow. Once he was gone, they'd probably be just fine, lightened by the absence of his dead weight.

But he kept hearing her. That was his brain's special talent: replaying, over and over again, the bad moments, so that he wouldn't forget how terrible he was. The sound of her sobbing echoed around in his head with the hundreds of other unpleasant things that repeated themselves there: the song he’d been using as a ringtone when he got the call about Patrick and Charlotte; the stuffed pig that Jas wouldn’t let go of that first week, the one that made the most obnoxious oinking sound; the disinterested scratch of the social worker’s pen on paper, changing the course of their lives forever.

“You want to talk about it?” Lydia asked.

Jas still went to the farm with him on Saturdays. She just didn't make conversation during the walk. The first words she spoke were to Archimedes, and then she waded into the woods, heading for the treehouse, silent.

He didn’t talk much, either, but that was how it had always been. Lydia would tell him about whatever project she was working on; she would remind him again that he could come back later for Jas instead of helping; and then, inevitably, they would get to work. Because he still wasn't enough of an ass to pawn his goddaughter off entirely on someone who hardly knew her.

It was a low bar, but it was what he could clear.

“Talk about what,” he said, and swung for the tree again. He was glad that the damn sprinkler system hadn’t had another crisis since last weekend. If Lydia had put him to that kind of fiddly work today, maybe he wouldn't have cleared that bar.

“Whatever it is,” Lydia said. She watched the tree, eyes darting between trunk and canopy, waiting for the moment it began to tip so that she could warn him out of the way. “I can’t read your mind, but obviously something’s been eating you the last few days.”

He swung the axe again. She hadn't traced his mood back to The Incident. Maybe she didn't want to bring it up if she didn't have to, or maybe other people just didn't spend as much time thinking about how much of a loser he was as he thought they did.

Sounded fake.

“I don’t know,” he said. Thud. “Maybe you’re imagining things.”

Lydia was no saint. Sometimes, just like everybody else, she got impatient. Usually it was because of the sprinklers. But those sometimes were rare, and she wasn't taking the bait today, as usual.

“Maybe,” she said amenably, and lapsed into silence again.

After a few more strikes, the tree creaked warningly. “Now,” she said, and they both hustled out of the way of the trunk. It fell slowly at first, then faster, faster, until it hit the ground thunderously right in the space they’d cleared for it.

Lydia was the mastermind, but at least Shane wasn't terrible at brute force labor.

She picked up a second axe; they both positioned themselves along the fallen tree to start chopping. She needed a fair amount of lumber to get that barn built before winter hit. It was hard for him to imagine thinking so far ahead. The farm was just overgrown enough that she could probably collect all the lumber she needed right here, instead of having to buy it. He didn't need to ask if she'd be able to afford it, if it came to that.

“But maybe I’m not,” she said, picking up the conversation after five minutes, like it’d never been dropped. “I mean, you’re cutting up this tree like it’s personally offended you, so there’s a chance. Just saying. I know you think I talk too much, but I’m a good listener.”

Shane took a deep breath. He fully intended to let out a heavy, annoyed sigh, the kind that usually sent anyone who’d dared take an interest scuttling.

But, as happened too often with Lydia, a stream of words came out instead, like he was powerless to stop them. One more thing he couldn't control.

“Take your pick,” he said, and went on dicing up the tree like it deserved the cutting. “Morris is on my ass about saying the catchphrase whenever I spot a customer.” Thwack. “Gus is on my ass about my tab, which is nowhere near as bad as Pam’s, but apparently it’s a problem when you’re not best friends.” Thwack. “Marnie is on my ass about looking for a better job, like there’s a lot of options in Pelican Town.” Thwack. “Jas won’t even look at me, let alone talk to me.”

They'd established a pleasant kind of rhythm. Lydia’s axe fell not far behind his, creating a rhythmic one-two-beat, one-two-beat.

“Jas,” Lydia said after a moment.

His axe fell out of rhythm. “What?”

“You told me to take my pick. I say Jas is the item on that list that’s really bothering you. The other stuff happens all the time.”

It was no use telling her it was just a figure of speech. It was, but at the same time, she was right. All that other stuff was background noise, compared to Jas.

He hated when she was right. Except when he didn't mind. It was always hard to tell which it was until much later, which didn't help a lot with in-the-moment reactions.

He settled for hitting the tree again.

“Why do you think she’s not talking to you?” Lydia asked, taking up the rhythm again behind him.

“You know why.” He said it to warn her off, in case she’d forgotten—but he didn’t think she had. He wasn't that lucky.

“Maybe. But tell me again.”

Lydia didn't believe in hiding things, letting them fester. She was completely fine wearing most of her bruises out in the open, cheerfully admitting that something had gone wrong and she was working on it—again, most of the time. She had a couple secret bruises that he'd poked, accidentally or intentionally.

But he was all secret bruises, or at least, he'd have liked to be. As long as he kept hanging around her, though, she'd keep digging them up to air out. The obvious solution was to stop hanging around her. He wondered, again, why he hadn't done that yet.

“She overheard something she shouldn’t have,” he said, “because someone dumped a canteen of water on me and made a scene.”

Lydia actually laughed, a little breathless, in the middle of her swing. “Oh, I see. It’s my fault.”

She was kind of refreshing, was the thing. Everyone else at The Incident had taken it so damn seriously. Granted, that was exactly two other people—Marnie and Jas—and one of them was seven, so maybe that wasn't surprising. But still. It was nice that someone had heard the thing he said and wasn’t afraid to talk about it.

“Maybe,” he said.

“I panicked,” she admitted. “Not my finest moment. I’m sorry.”

He grunted in acknowledgment. They went back to the beat, one-two, one-two. In the distance, Archimedes barked.

“So she knows you meant it,” Lydia said, after a moment.

His axe hit a little crooked, and the rhythm stuttered again. He looked up at her. She realized he'd stopped, and she stopped, too, returning the look.

It wasn't that she didn't look sad, or worried. It was just that those things seemed secondary to a kind of openness, a thoughtfulness, like she was solving some kind of puzzle. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing, or whether he liked it or not.

“Haven’t told her otherwise,” he said.

He expected a lecture. He gave one to himself more or less every hour. Put on a good face for Jas, or Just tell her you were having a bad day and didn’t mean it, or Tell her you’re going to be around for a good, long time, even though you don’t know, even though it might be a lie. The kid had already been through hell. He should've figured out some way, any way, to keep her from going through more by now.

He just couldn't. He didn't know why.

But she didn’t lecture. She said, “You don’t want to lie to her.” As if she understood.

He went back to his wood-chopping. “I don’t know how to lie to her.” He wished he did. That would have made this a lot easier.

But then, if he lied, she wouldn’t see the inevitable coming before it hit, which would make it all the harder for her.

Lydia went back to chopping, too. “I don’t think you need to, for what it’s worth.”

“Yeah? You got an age-appropriate way to explain wanting to die?”

Finally, she hesitated, but only for a one-two beat of the falling axes. “Not really,” she said. “But Jas has already been through a lot. She knows stuff that most kids don’t at her age. So you can tell her adjacent truths.”

“Lotta syllables.”

Finally, she gave an impatient little sigh. “I mean things like—you’re sorry that she had to hear that. That it has nothing to do with her, and doesn’t mean you don’t love her. That things are just hard for you right now.” She breathed heavily on the next swing, more exasperation than effort. “She gets that you’re grieving, too, Shane.”

Trust a person like Lydia to paint it in such nice strokes. Like his best effort, which fell far short of winning any prizes, would be sufficient to a needy little kid.

But maybe...well, saying something could always make things worse, but the idea hadn't come from him. It was a start.

“I’ll plagiarize,” he said. “Thanks.”

It seemed like she was going to let it lie there, but then she spoke up again. “Like I said, I’m a good listener, so. You need an ear, I’m here. Day or night. I mean it.”

She wasn't wrong. She was a good listener. But she had some kind of future ahead of her, still, and he'd poisoned enough people with his failures. It was out in the open now; it didn't need to be rehashed. Next time, he would keep his mouth shut.

#sdv shane #sdv farmer #shane/female farmer #universe writes #depression cw #suicidal ideation cw #friendship #pre-relationship

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