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#the prompt was 'a set of things you need' so things u need for a movie night :D
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Into the Blackhole
Theodore Nott x gn!reader; fluff
summary: when it all just gets too much, there’s one place you can always find theodore nott, a secluded corner on the second floor of the three broomsticks
a/n: hogmarch prompt 2. it’s apparently my goal to be the last submission for all of these, sorry @thatdammchickennugget (it’s technically still the 13th). i went with the butterbeer approach and this pure fluff. lots of friends to lovers in my submissions, whoops. guess the trope is on the brain
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Bad week. That’s the only way you could describe your current mood. Between the long ass essay Snape had assigned with only 2 days to complete and the howler you’d received from your parents about something that wasn’t even a big deal you needed a break away from the castle.
So here you were on your way to the Three Broomsticks. The path to Hogsmeade is familiar and the fresh air is already starting to improve your mood. With the sun setting soon, there’s a comforting light casted on the village.
The old wooden doors to the pub creak when you open them and it’s relatively quiet for a Friday evening. You decide to make your way up to your usual table to relax a bit before getting a drink. At the top of the stairs you find Theodore Nott already sitting there. A smile spreads across your face.
He looks like his week was just as bad as yours as you slide into the seat next to him. His blue eyes look up to meet yours when you sit down and his expression is immediately softer. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter.
“Bad week?” you ask.
Theo sighs and nods, “why else would I be here. Assuming that’s why you’re here too.”
You laugh softly at that, he wasn’t wrong. Since your first trip to Hogsmeade third year, you and Theo had decided this was the best spot in the village to get away from everything. You’d spent many a night here with and without him, and you couldn’t help but feel glad he was with you this time.
“Want something? I was about to go get a drink when you came up,” he stands from the table, eyes still on you.
“Sure, that’d be great.”
He gives you a nod before heading down the stairs, leaving the seat empty and a hole in your heart.
So, maybe you had a small crush on your friend. Maybe.
♡ ♡ ♡
His footsteps returning pull you out of your thoughts. He sets a cold butterbeer down in from of you and you give him an appreciative smile.
“I know you don’t like warm drinks, as weird as that is,” he teases as he sits back down with his hot butterbeer in hand.
“I’m not arguing about this with you again, Nott,” you tease right back.
He holds his hands up in surrender, which makes you both laugh.
There’s a comfortable silence as you sip on your butterbeer and you steal a few glances at him.
“Wanna talk about it?” his voice surprises you, making you snap your attention to him.
“Just a rough week,” you blink a couple times, trying to think of what to say.
“Yeah, my fathers been, persistent in the whole… mark thing.” He looks down at his mug.
“Oh, Theo, I-“ without thinking about it, you get up and hug him.
He tenses up for a moment at the unexpected touch, but easily melts into your embrace. You don’t ask anything else, you don’t need to. He turns in his seat to make it easier to hug him, his strong arms coming up around your waist.
“Thank you tesorino. I guess I wanted to talk about it, but my friends…” he trails off and you immediately understand. They’ve gone through similar if not worse, it can be too much.
“I’m always here for you Teddy,” the nickname slips past your lips like it’s the most natural thing in the world and you try not to blush at the Italian term of endearment.
“I know you are and-“ he hesitates, “I think that’s why I’m falling in love with you.” The second half comes out quieter, like he’s scared of your response. “Actually, I’ve liked you for a long time.”
His blue eyes meet yours and it feels like it’s just the two of you here in the Three Broomsticks.
Just the two of you in all the universe.
He blushes, “sorry, not great timing on my part.”
“No!” you blurt out, “I’ve had a crush on you forever. Since we met first year.”
Theo looks a little shocked, but it’s quickly replaced with a smile and you melt.
“Wanna maybe turn this pity party into uh- a date maybe?”
You laugh softly, which makes him join you.
“Sure, I’d love nothing more.” You sit back down in your seat, in your and Theodore’s table and you can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face.
“But first, another butterbeer?” he smiles and you happily nod.
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generalsmemories · 3 months
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Unwanted reunion
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader
✧ prompts: “catching the other one crying shortly after an argument and immediately feeling an overwhelming wave of guilt crash onto you.” + "it's okay, we can fix this..." + “playing with their hair until they fall asleep”|| 1k event
✧ contents: hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, implied character death
✧ a/n: if u wonder how in the world i came up with the scenario below. i genuinely don't know either it's a mystery to even me. CREATIVE LIBERTY WINS AGAIN THE PROMPTS WERE LITERALLY INSPO AND NOT WRITTEN DIRECTLY INTO THE SCENARIO. also implied that this took place after the battle with phantylia so keep that in mind.
NOT BETA-READ AS USUAL FELLAS I WANTED TO HAND THIS OVER TO YA'LL ASAP AS AN APOLOGY FOR STARVING YOU ALL FOR SO LONG!! it's mild angst though, so sorry.
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Jing Yuan's can feel a familiar heaviness weigh on his body as well as the feeling of someone wrapping a roll of gauze on his arm. However opening his eyes proved to be a challenge in itself and it's only with great struggle that he can manage to force them slightly open to the bright light.
The first thing he notices is the familiar ceiling of your shared home. A bit weird since whenever he did get injured he would immediately be rushed towards a private room by the Seat of Divine Foresight - which was the safest place for him to stay. Perhaps you had gotten your will again to take care of him - seeing as you're a high ranking healer yourself and quite a stubborn soul.
But his eyes still widen a tiny bit when he sees you sitting by the edge of the bed, one hand gripping his gauzed wound while your other hand is busy trying to find something to keep your hard work in place. You're humming a soft tune again, he never knows what sort of melody you're humming, only that it had become a habit for you after the amount of years you had spent by his side bandaging his battle wounds. Something about helping your mood and staying positive.
"Your recklessness knows no bounds, Jing Yuan." the sternness of your voice snaps him out of the daze he's in, immediately rising up from the bed only to groan in pain when the wounds that you had just wrapped up react to his body folding, "... And still don't know when to rest - even when I'm in the middle of treating you."
"...How much time has passed?" he asks, voice hoarse after having slept for who knows how long. You only hum, setting the bandages aside - the gesture causing Jing Yuan to follow your hand movements which makes him notice the bloodied bandages inside the trash by your legs.
"A couple of days, I was just finishing changing your bandages when you finally woke up. Here, some water." you inform, raising a glass towards his lips, patiently waiting for him to move closer.
You only start to speak again after he's taken several gulps, placing the cup of water back on the nightstand beside his bed. "Why are you so willing to throw your life away?" you ask after a moment of silence, helping Jing Yuan rest against the headboard, eyes never leaving his own that don't dare to even look into your own.
"It's my duty-"
"Your duty is to make sure as many of the Cloud Knights survive a battle. Not gamble your life on a piece that you weren't sure had the capabilities to help."
Jing Yuan bites his tongue at your immediate rebuttal, you were right after all. "The Master Diviner was right there by you. A troop was enough to guard the entrance, you didn't need to leave the master diviner with them to go on this-"
"... Can't you be happy for once whenever we meet like this?" he asks quietly, effectively stopped you from saying anything more. His gaze is cast downwards whenever he mutters the same question to you whilst shrinking a bit after asking. There's no sign of the proud general in your presence - in front of you is just Jing Yuan asking a supposedly harmless question.
Perhaps that's the reason why you can never shove him away immediately.
"... You know what my answer is."
Jing Yuan was no crier. In fact, you think he stopped crying or showing any visible sign of discomfort or uneasiness the day he got the title as General. You're pretty sure you can count the amount of times you've seen Jing Yuan cry on one hand.
Perhaps his ability to hide his own needs and wants so often day by day for the past centuries makes your dismissal of his simple wishes that more gut-wrenching for you. You try to ignore the overwhelming guilt that washes over you every time you have to say the same thing to him.
"... You have a lot of things that you want to get done on the Luofu, Jing Yuan." you murmur softly, extending a hand to run your fingers through his locks, breaking apart any knots that may have formed in his sleep.
"You know we can meet again, but now is not the time - especially now," you gently remind with a sombre smile, your hand moving from his hair to rest against his chin to make him face you.
"It's gonna be alright, okay?" he scoffs at your reassurance, finally coming to terms with your conditions once again like always, wrapping his arms around your waist to fall down back on the bed with you on top.
"Remember the last time you said those words to me?" he says, almost sounding offended at your choice of words to which you only smile against his skin in guilt.
"It was the first time I saw you cry so hard," you try to joke, pressing your hands against the mattress to push yourself off of Jing Yuan, choosing to hover above him instead.
"... I'm sorry," you decide to say in the end after a moment of silence, once again threading your fingers through his hair - an act you knew used to calm him before. At this moment though, you're not so sure.
"Why? Shouldn't I be sorry?" he asks in return, a small yawn leaving his lips as his eyes struggle to stay open. You smile bitterly as you shake your head, still threading your fingers through his hair.
"No, none of it was your fault - what happened back then was out of your control. But this time it isn't. I can wait for a long time, Jing Yuan. I know you're aware of that so don't try to rush anything to meet me again." you tell him, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead.
"So it's time to wake up, dear. Luofu is waiting for you."
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ellemj · 4 months
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Letters to Santa, Part 1: 12 Days of Smut #11
Bucky Barnes x Reader 2-Part Fic
Request/prompt courtesy of @stuckysbike:
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Warnings: profanity, mentions of orgasms, allusions to smut, dirty letter writing, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: I wasn't planning to do any sort of multi-part stuff for this 12 Days of Smut thing, I wanted to churn out a bunch of smutty one-shots so you guys could have a lil Christmas meal every day. But when I started writing this today I kinda fell in love with the last couple of paragraphs and it felt so RIGHT leaving it the way I did. So, it looks like you guys will be getting part 2 of this tomorrow which will be s m u t t y and also a separate smut #12 tomorrow. Thanks to @stuckysbike for this amazing prompt that I’ve been thinking about for DAYS now.
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Dear Santa,
All I want for Christmas is any one of the following, you can pick for me because I’m a little indecisive:
someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present
someone to give me a Christmas miracle (three orgasms in one night, if that’s not too much to ask)
someone to cum down my chimney
With love,
Y/n
            “Oh my god, this is perfect!” Natasha laughs out the words as she waves your letter around in the air. “We have to mail this. I need someone to find the address for the North Pole.”
            “Come on, Nat. Santa’s already put me on his naughty list. I’m not getting anything this year.” You say with a pout, pushing your bottom lip out.
            “It’s true, I saw her submit a half-finished mission report last week.” Wanda points out. You roll your eyes before leaning back on the couch and raising your nearly empty beer bottle to your lips. You take a long sip as Nat, Wanda, and Sharon continue reading each other’s dirty letters to Santa and teasing each other. You’re enjoying sitting through the fun of girls night like you do every Friday night, until you hear the elevator ding across the room. Just as you turn your head to see who it’s carried upstairs, the doors slide open to reveal Sam and Bucky. Sam opens his arms wide upon seeing the four of you piled together on the couch, clearly loving that he’s just stumbled into his first girls night.
            “Is this what I think it is?” He asks excitedly, quickly making his way over to the couch and seating himself on the end of the sectional.
            “A bunch of girls writing dirty letters to Santa? Yes.” Sharon reveals all. You shoot her a faux-angry glare.
            “Sharon, he’s a guy. You’re not supposed to tell him anything about girl’s night.” Wanda reprimands her jokingly. Sharon lifts her hands in surrender.
            “Hey, this is the first one I’ve been invited to, no one told me the rules. I’m also a little drunk, it’s not my fault.”
            Your eyes snap back over to Sam just in time to see him peering over Nat’s shoulder, trying to get a look at your very own dirty letter to Santa. You’re quick to scramble to your feet and snatch the piece of paper from Nat’s hand, narrowing your eyes at Sam.
            “If you don’t have a sled and…eight…no, nine reindeer, then this isn’t for you.” You say coldly, carefully folding the letter and setting it on the coffee table that’s littered with pens, beer bottles, and various snacks.
            “I could have a sled.” Sam offers, eyeing where your letter now sits.
            “You have wings, it’s not the same.” Sharon quips. As everyone continues to joke and tease each other around the coffee table, you’re sitting back and enjoying the nice buzz you feel from the alcohol you’ve consumed so far tonight. After another minute of listening to your friends have the time of their lives, you can’t help but feel like you’re being watched. You let your eyes float around from Wanda to Nat, then to Sam at the end of the couch, and then to Sharon. No one’s looking at you. That’s when you remember the silent sixth person in the room. You turn your head and look over your shoulder, finding Bucky standing in the kitchen, sipping from his own bottle of beer as he stares right at you. Any other person caught staring would look away. That’s the normal thing to do, right? But Bucky has never looked away, of all of the times you’ve caught him staring. Maybe it’s an alpha male type of behavior you could learn about on Animal planet, hell if you know, but whatever it is Bucky has it bad. Sam jokingly refers to him as the bionic staring machine and you’ve never heard anything more accurate. However, you’ve noticed lately that Bucky stares at you a hell of a lot more than he stares at anyone else. Is it wishful thinking? Maybe. You have no problem admitting that the man is annoyingly attractive, and the fact that he tends to be so quiet and elusive only adds to the attraction. Like they say, a crush is just a lack of information. If Bucky talked more, you’d easily lose your attraction to him. You’re sure of that.
            You’re lightly engaging in the conversation with Sam and the girls again, but you can still feel Bucky’s gaze burning a hole in the back of your head as you speak. When he finally silently slips out of the kitchen and disappears down the hallway that leads to everyone’s rooms, you’re relieved. You don’t know why you always find it so hard to relax around him. He puts you on edge for a reason you’ll never understand.
            “Okay, I think it’s time for everyone to get to bed. We have a full day tomorrow with baking Christmas cookies, the gingerbread house contest, and the Christmas dinner.” Wanda reminds everyone. She’s the first one to rise from the couch, gathering up the pens and blank pieces of paper to put them away. You’re quick to start collecting the empty beer bottles from the coffee table, trying to do your part. You’re so preoccupied with straightening up the small mess you all left in the kitchen that you don’t even notice Natasha tucking your dirty letter to Santa into the waistband of her pants. In fact, the dirty letter doesn’t even cross your mind as you finish up in the kitchen and head to your room for the night.
            Natasha thinks of herself as a matchmaker of sorts, or at least someone who’s good at reading chemistry between people. She might not know enough to say that two people are destined to marry and have a bunch of kids together, but she knows when two people would have a good physical relationship. That particular skill of hers is what leads her not only to steal your dirty letter to Santa, but to slide it under Bucky’s door as she passes his room to get to her own a little while later. What a devious Black Widow your best friend is.
---
            Someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. Someone to give me a Christmas miracle of three orgasms in one night. Someone to cum down my chimney.
            Bucky has read the letter a total of four times, each time making his dick a little harder and his chest rise and fall a little faster. He stares at the bottom of the page where you so neatly signed your name. It’s the dirty letter you wrote just earlier during girls night. Bucky isn’t even questioning the fact that this is how the four of you chose to spend your evening. His only question is how and why your letter ended up sitting on the floor right inside of his door after he finished showering. Did you slide it under there yourself? Did someone else do it? Are you expecting him to give you one of these gifts?
            He sits on the side of his bed still staring down at the piece of paper in his hand, but he’s not reading it anymore. He’s thinking back to every single interaction he’s ever had with you, from the most minor to the most memorable. Hell, they’ve all been memorable. Every lingering look, every seemingly accidental touch of your thigh against his when you’re in the quinjet or in the conference room for a briefing, every damn word you’ve ever said to him. There’s always been some kind of a spark between the two of you, a clear sexual tension that was begging to be broken, but neither of you ever did a thing about it. So, why now is Bucky thinking about doing something about it? If you slipped the letter under his door, then it’s obviously something you want him to do. You gave him a fucking menu of choices. But if you didn’t slip it under the door, then who else has noticed the sexual tension between you two and decided that it was their job to remedy it?
            Someone to unwrap me like a Christmas present. Someone to give me a Christmas miracle of three orgasms in one night. Someone to cum down my chimney.
            Bucky folds the piece of paper into a small rectangle before placing it in the top drawer of his nightstand and taking a deep breath in.
All of the above. That’s what he chooses for you.
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fairyhaos · 7 months
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How To Fucking Write: a guide by fairyhaos
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[masterlist]
this post details:
STARTING A STORY
PACING A STORY
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hi gays and gals and welcome to "how to fucking write", a post (series) where i talk about how i brainstorm for writing, plan for writing, write the writing, and everything in between. nothing too serious here lmao, but i'm definitely planning on making at least a couple posts on this bc a) it's fun and b) i wanna help! so if you find this useful then pls lmk by reblogging + drop an ask if there are any specific things u want me to give my two cents on ^^
okok and now without further ado,,, let's look at the topics i'll talk about in today's post!
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#1 - HOW TO START A STORY.
.. bullet point one : have an idea
the first big thing is that you need an idea. doesn't matter if you're a pantser and don't plan out your writing before you start. that's totally fine! but before you begin, you need at least an idea: maybe it's a vibe, a character personality, a specific journey you want the characters to go on. maybe it's a piece of dialogue. maybe it's the ending- the point you want to end up at after however many thousand words.
whatever it is, it's best to have some inspiration, some idea of what you wanna do. no point in writing if you don't know what you're writing, you know?
(of course, that brings up the issue of Having An Idea in the first place, but finding inspiration to write is a whole other can of worms we can open in another post.)
.. bullet point two : practice
okay, so now you have an idea. how do you put that idea to paper? how should you actually start your story?
it’s all to do with practice.
it’s the most annoying piece of advice in the world, but it helps so much. you just have to write lots and lots and lots, to find the way that works for you. whether you wanna start your stories with pretty scene descriptions, with dialogue, with dramatic one-liners. finding your voice, your style, what’s most comfortable for you, is really really important. and takes practice.
an example, though: for me, i prefer either a line of dialogue, or one-liners that a) help immediately establish a character’s personality or can b) introduce an interesting setting.
[chan + swingset] — one-liner example
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[hoshi + silly] — dialogue example 
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but of course, everyone’s style is different. so i’d recommend playing around! find a list of one-word prompts and just write a few that inspire you, writing the beginnings. it’s important, also, that you’re having fun, because if you’re already struggling with starting to write, it’ll be even harder if you’re doing it while feeling stressed.
.. bullet point three (mostly just for longer fics)
maybe you don’t find a style, in the end. maybe you’re comfortable with all of them, which is totally fine! but then you look at your writing, and you think, “oh… this isn’t as good as i thought.” 
and it makes you want to give up. what do you do, then? how do you carry on with your start?
just put words to paper. it doesn’t matter if the words are terrible, if you’re making up shit and using placeholders for description words or whatever. just carry on, get to a place you’re happy with, like the end of a scene, or maybe a dialogue exchange you really like.
because now, guess what? you’ve successfully created a first draft.
making first drafts is actually so important. seriously. first drafts allow you to fuck up, allow you to write terribly. they help you fumble and trip your way to the finish line (or at least a rest point) so that you can go back and do better.
even if your first draft is terrible, it’s helped you make your way to a point you’re happy with. now you have a vague idea of what you want, even if the description or characterisation or something is way off. because now, you can edit it, or even scrap it and use only a few words from that draft in your next one. or maybe, if you look back at it, maybe it’s even decent enough for you to use. 
whatever it is, when you first start writing that story, think of it as ‘The Worst Draft’. because it probably won’t be as good as you want it, and it’s okay. just write, with no fears of it being bad, because that’s literally fine. it’s not set in stone. the backspace button exists. after your first draft is made, make another. and another, and another, because i promise, after that first draft, it only gets better from there.
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#2 - PACING A STORY.
.. bullet point one : adding things
pacing is always really tricky. however, i do think that slowing a story down is easier than speeding it up, so here we go,,,,
finding out the exact way to slow down a story really depends on what type of story you're writing, but there are a few all-round things you can do which can help pretty much any setting.
if it's a scene with loads of dialogue, and things feel like they're jumping to the end topic too quickly, add descriptions. your readers are blind, writers, and they depend on you to be able to see what's going on. are your characters having a conversation on the street? take a break to describe what they see. are they in a coffee shop? maybe someone comes in with a huge noise, or their coffee arrives at their table. are they hanging in midair with nothing around them? well, describe the actions of the character they're talking to, then.
example: (from my seoksoo fic bc it's the only long fic i'm working on rn)
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by adding character descriptions, movement, thoughts, instantly everything seems to have slowed down. it thickens time, allowing you to move at a more leisurely pace.
if it's a scene full of action, you can do the exact same thing. maybe there's a high-tension moment and something significant happens. slow down time there, describe something small in great detail. talk about the thoughts they're having.
and even if it's just an ordinary scene, describing is important. the setting, the characters' actions, their thoughts. it's okay to write too much. then you can delete things which make things feel like they're moving too slowly.
.. bullet point two : delete
not gonna lie, finding out how to speed up the pacing of the story can often be really specifically tailored to the setting of the story.
with stories that have loads of action (spy, apocalypse, etc) i'd recommend adjusting sentence length. you'll want short, punchy sentences, without loads of commas and clauses, but you'll also want to experiment with having those short sentences gradually get longer. it helps with tension and suspense.
it has to be short. running fast. something to elevate fear. quick, but also desperate, before they then spill over each other, picking up pace, all of the thoughts blurring together and going faster, and faster, and faster, and then-
then the penny drops.
people use the metaphor of music a lot, and it really does work that way. it needs to ascend to its climax: gently, cautiously, before sprinting upwards and only describing things like the barest emotions (the fear they feel, the panic, anger, anything) before everything reaches its peak and comes crashing down in a flurry of action descriptions.
but of course, the easiest way to speed up something is to delete. delete swathes of setting description. delete unnecessary dialogue. delete an entire scene and rewrite with only the things you remember (which can help make sure you only have the essentials in your scene, btw. very helpful).
it might take a bit of adjusting, rewriting, moving things around, but ultimately, quickening the pace of the story depends on the way in which you write things. be concise, be dramatic, and don't dawdle.
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... and that's it ! if anyone has anything else they want advice on (how to structure, how to write dialogue, how to plan etc) then just shoot me an ask, because i'd love to help however i can :)
tagging: @selenicives who asked for this in the first place hehe ^^
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have u done the reader meeting charles' family for the first time🥹🫶🏻//
hey friend I think you got the prompt reversed. they requested reader meeting the leclerc family, not charles meeting the readers family.
Note: I absolutely did 🤦‍♀️ my bad! What's worse is that the piece I mentioned in the I also the right way around - I'm going with "it was late for me" 🤡 thank you for letting me know!
Charles parked the car in his spot in the garage, having just picked you up from your place since it was raining and he didn't want to you to catch an Uber or something like that.
"You don't need to worry, amour, my family won't think you're a 'snobby princess' because I went to pick you up", Charles shook his head, "my mother was the one who kicked me out of my own apartment to come and get you", he kissed your cheek, "ready?", he asked as he unlocked the door.
"Hi Y/N, I'm so happy you could join us for dinner", a blonde woman said, pulling you into a warm hug, "hi, thank you for having me with you", you smiled as you walked to the living room.
"I thought I told you I didn't want your feet on my coffee table", Charles swatted his brothers' feet from the piece of furniture, "That's no way to receive a guest, boys, c'mon", Pascale scolded.
"Hi, I'm Y/N", you smiled, waiting for them to get up and greet you how they wanted, going for a quick hug and a kiss on each cheek.
"I'm Arthur", the youngest one said, "glad we can finally meet you, we've heard so much about you that I feel like I know you", he smiled.
"I doubt I'm that interesting", you joked along as Charles squeezed your waist softly, "I'm sure you are, mon coeur".
"Charles actually made you sound like this unattainable example of perfection", the oldest Leclerc brother said, "I'm Lorenzo, who can believe you're all he said, but can't quite believe you chose him of all people", he winked.
"You should be kinder, Lorenzo!", a woman said as she stepped into the living room, "I'm Charlotte, Lorenzo's girlfriend, it's so nice to meet you, Y/N, I've been needing girl company whenever these three get together", she smirked.
"I'm happy to help with anything you need", you said as you set your things down in Charles' bedroom, "I just need to bring these to the table, it's no problem - but if you want to take the bread and the tapenade while you're here", Pascale smiled as she carried a bigger tray.
"Just so you know, my mother already loves you", Charles said once he caught you in the kitchen alone washing your hands before eating, "it hasn't been too long for me to ruin it that much", you joked.
Charles tapped your butt, "not like that, that's not what I meant and you know it! I mean she loves you since she noticed how happy you make me, and that goes beyond helping set the table or stuff like that", he kissed your lips, "you have a way with the Leclercs, they fall at your feet, amour".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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melonn-soda · 1 year
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❝ LOVE LACED NIGHTS...❞
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warnings: dacryphilia, safewords, creampie, bttm male reader, top fukuzawa, praise kink, aftercare
word count: 3k
prompt: basically u meet the detective agency as fuku’s hubby and hang out w/ them a bit then u get it on
notes: fukuzawa’s first name is used the entire fic btw
fem aligned dni
for someone who seemed to like working alone for a majority of his life, the detective agency was very surprised at the sight of the director mentioning him being married. most of that reason was because yukichi never wore his ring during working hours due to him being scared about your well-being and the enemies that would use you to manipulate his decisions. he was very secretive about his home life and you were no different. of course, you worked your own job, never wore your wedding ring outside of home, and never showed any connection to the detective agency in public. the only person who knew at the time is ranpo, who you saw frequently around the household since you and yukichi took care of him when he was a teen.
now, here you were, in your home, standing in front the detective agency with a cat themed apron on since you stepped away from your cooking at your husband’s call. to say being overwhelmed at the presence of all of them was an understatement, you felt like you were being judged by nearly every person in the room from the weight of their stares. the only people who didn’t seem to be judging you was the sliver haired young adult, the little farmer boy, and dazai (whom you’ve heard so much about). compared to yukichi, you were on the more weaker side; however, looks can be deceiving. you knew how to defend yourself whenever it was needed, quick with your feet and with daggers, yukichi taught you most of the things you needed to know about fighting.
“oh! i wasn’t expecting visitors today.” you said sheepishly, hands tightly wrapping around the spatula nervously. being the center of attention was definitely not something you were used to, preferring to stick to the corners if that were an option, “these are your employees, am i wrong?”
your husband only nodded at you, hands tucked into his sleeves. ranpo was the first to initiate a response, glomping you into a hug that caught you by surprise, “ba! do you have any snacks for me?” he asked, slightly jumping up and down.
“ah- could we at least eat dinner first before you raid the pantry?” you asked, holding him down by the shoulders. watching him pout before a small “fine” was mumbled out of his mouth, he walked off into the living room, already making himself comfortable.
“it seems like you and ranpo are already pretty close.” the silver haired boy mentioned before spoke, a smile on his face. he walked in front of you, suddenly bowing which made you freeze up, “thank you for inviting us into your home, sir. i hope we aren’t too much of a bother.”
waving your hands in front of you, a response spilled out of your mouth, “there’s no need for such formalities.. i’m happy yukichi found people he could put so much trust in. if you are friends with him, then you are friends with me.” you reassured, hands returning back in front of you, “you may all call me [name] because i took on yukichi’s last name and to avoid confusion. do not feel afraid to approach me whenever i’m needed and- if you all don’t mind- may i get names to attach to faces?”
the use of the president’s first name was certainly weird to hear out loud, ranpo far too used to hearing it slip out of your mouth to actually care. everyone soon told their names and you returned to the kitchen to continue cooking the meals you left unattended. kunikida and atsushi came to help, setting the table alongside you as dishes and utensils were placed in orderly fashions. dazai and ranpo were playing a game of chess in the living room, a game common in america for those who possess the abilities to smoke those with their higher intellect and strategic thinking to beat the opposing side.
soon enough, you called everyone over to the dining area, everyone rushing in to sit at a spot and chat while eating after they all thanked you for the hospitality. dazai made multiple compliments about how good you looked for someone in your forties, causing you to fluster and stumble on your words and you thanked him. kunikida, of course, seemed to notice what he was going for and told him to knock it off, the brunet playing dumb and acting like he didn’t know what he was talking about. everyone seemed to be very nice and accepting of yukichi’s and your relationship since marriage between two men wasn’t very normalized within japan. it made you feel relieved over the fact you didn’t have to worry about that issue and face the discrimination that would follow after it, making you wallow in a pit of shame and tears that would break your character.
after dinner, everyone picked up their plates and placed them in the sink, you telling them that you could wash the dishes as they could go and finish their game of chess. yukichi snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a kiss on the back of your head, hair separating his lips that begged to touch your skin. you chuckled softly, brushing your palm against his forearm as you felt him smile in your hair.
“are you enjoying yourself?” he asked, now lowering his head to nuzzle it against your neck, placing a soft kiss just for you to crane your neck away at the ticklish sensation.
you hummed, “they’re lovely people,” you sighed, going back to washing the dishes as you heard bickering coming from the living room, “they seem so happy living this life despite it being at risk almost 24/7. i’m almost kind of jealous. i wish i was able to spend more time with you outside the comfort of our own home.”
yukichi felt the same. he wished he was able to take you out on dinners and shopping but the job he has was way too risky to put you in danger. so he made sure to buy you little but meaningful gifts as compromise for the depressing life you both had to live. even when he returned home, he made sure to make the both of you feel special, dancing slowly to the soft music that buzzed out of the radio as the alcohol started to take its effect. those nights never usually ended the way people think it does: spilled wine and tossed sheets- no. it was mostly just sitting on the bed as yukichi held you dear, your head resting on his chest as the both of you dozed off. your and yukichi’s sex drives weren’t very high but that was because you both got older and less focused on it. when you were both in your mid twenties to mid thirties, those were the heights of excitement in the bedroom. now, you both just wanted to take it slow, enjoy life while you still had it. sex between you two now had become softer and slower, gentle caresses and cries, just focused on the thought of making each other feel good.
you sighed, leaning back into yukichi while smiling. none of that mattered. the only thing important to you now was your beloved and the kid the both of you raised together. now, there was a whole agency you were willing to protect, all of them being too precious to let go. yukichi felt the waves of content radiate off of you, his hold on your waist getting tighter like he didn’t want to let go.
“ewww!!” you heard come from the entrance of the kitchen, whipping your head in that direction, almost hitting yukichi in the process, “you guys are so cheesy!!” ranpo bleghed in mockery, catching the attention of the entire agency. dazai was the next person to poke his head in, overdramatically saying how your relationship with your husband was too romantic for him to handle. kunikida came following after, yelling at the tall man about how disrespectful it is to say things like that. you didn’t mind it, instead laughing at the display of how well the agency members could get along, yukichi laying his cheek onto your shoulder as he watched along too.
once everyone left and said their goodbyes, you sighed and closed the door shut, feeling mentally exhausted after interacting with so many people. ranpo wasn’t going to spend the night here, telling you he was going to a friend’s house- someone named poe from what you remembered. yukichi picked up some of the cups left in the living room, placing them into the sink to wash for tomorrow. the both of you headed to bed, changing into the appropriate sleepwear before crawling into the sheets.
“that was fun.” you said, voice nearly a whisper, the moonlight shining through the window highlighting yukichi’s silver hair and your face. you softly touched his calloused palms, bringing one of them to your lips and just barely kissing it.
“i’m glad you enjoyed your time, love.” he lifted his hand that you just held and pressed it against the side of your head, rubbing your cheekbone affectionately. he pushed himself forward, kissing your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then under your eyelids, cheek, and lastly the corner of your lips before pulling away.
you whined at the loss of desire, wanting him to give you what you wanted, “you’re so mean.”
he chuckled at you, slipping his fingers between yours, “then come and get what you want.” he teased, closing his hand within yours and tugged you toward him, his right arm wrapping around your waist as you were pressed into his chest.
you smiled and pressed yourself against him more, kissing him softly. it wasn’t long before the both of you started opening your mouths, teeth clicking weirdly from the position you were both kissing in. yukichi lifted you off your side, laying on his back as he placed you to straddle his lap. you settled your hands onto his chest, slowly starting you push his nightwear off, yours already starting to slip off your shoulders.
sighing into the kiss, his hands dipped down to the arch of your back, rubbing circles on your hip dips. you hummed onto his mouth, feeling his erection start to poke through his robes, nudging onto your thigh as you continued making out. you pushed your thigh into it, hearing him groan as his eyebrows furrowed from the contact.
giggling, you pulled away from the kiss, “already this pent up just kissing? you’re so cute.” you pecked his cheek once more before sitting up, feeling his grip on your hips squeeze when his face started to redden.
“you try dealing with the affairs of the agency then.” he nearly growled, moving your hips with minimal force since you never fought back against his relief. you knew how much stress his job caused him and you were in no place to shut down his needs, always putting his pleasure before yours.
“i know, love,” you started undoing the sash that kept his robes from falling, “you work very diligently and i acknowledge that.” you pushed away his wear, hand hovering over his pelvis before pressing down lightly against it, feeling him shiver under your form.
“safeword?” he asked.
“quill.”
that was all the confirmation you both need, the older tearing off the robes on your body, leaving you in your boxers, the cold air of the home making a chill run up your spine. clothes were thrown to the floor, blankets shoved to the ground as the tension started to build. yukichi raised his upper half to nibble at your collarbone, rubbing his palm against your hard on, sounds that were heavenly to him spilling out of your mouth. he was always so gentle with you now that old age was creeping up, he was usually more excited and rough when you were both younger but that spark of youth was gone now.
stripping you of your boxers, yukichi pulled you down with him, reaching into the drawer next to you and pulling out the quarter filled bottle of lube. he uncapped the bottle with his teeth, pouring it onto his ring and middle finger before pushing one of them inside you. you squirmed at the feeling, this type of activity having been put off for too long for when you last done this. he stopped to make sure you were comfortable again. prodding his finger in deeper once you seemed fine.
he poked around for a bit, stretching you out little by little, then felt you jolt and whine, burying your head into his shoulder as your fingernails lightly scratched at his skin.
“are you okay?” he asked, knowing that he just hit your prostate. he felt you nod and sigh slowly, resuming his actions.
he relubed his fingers after pulling them out for the short while, then pushing two fingers in, stretching you further. the sensation soon dulled after a few minutes, yukichi pressing down on the bundle of nerves a few times to tease you. finishing up his ministrations, he slipped out his fingers and wiped them on something you couldn’t see. your positions flipped nearly instantly, surprising you as you squeaked in shock. yukichi towered above you, his thin hips locked in tightly between your legs with a shadow cast on his face.
he went to reach over to the drawer again, in which you stopped him by grabbing his wrist, mumbling, “ah, umm.. can we do it..-” your lover looked at you, waiting for your answer, “can we do it without the…” your face flushed hotly and he seemed to catch on, nodding his head and taking the bottle of lube once more.
slicking himself up, he tossed the bottle to the side without a care and started to slip himself inside you slowly. you winced slightly, forgetting how much bigger he was compared to his fingers. you breathed out shakily, relaxing yourself so yukichi wouldn’t have a difficult time with you tightening up. when he was fully sheathed in you, yukichi pressed kisses up and down your neck, attempting to calm you down since he felt you tensing up.
“mnn- ah, you can move now…” you muttered out, feeling him press against your prostrate but not enough to drive you hypersensitive.
he slowly slid his cock out, pushing it back in at the same pace. this was the slow sex that the both of you had gotten used to, rocking into each other with minimal movement. he seemed a little rougher this time, thrusts a little quicker and precise. his grip on your waist was tight, nails digging into your skin as you whimpered and whined.
you could feel every part of him, dragging against your walls deliciously as you slightly drooled at the sensations. this felt better than the last time you’ve both done something like this. he was treating you with the aggressiveness you liked so much albeit gentler. eyes clenching shut, you groaned once you felt him hit your prostate, breathing heavily.
light scars started to rake up his back from your doing, reddening them as they started to swell. you trembled, yukichi hitting the bundle of sensitive nerves repeatedly, soon finding yourself crying out, “a-ahn-! hah, yu~, is too muuuch~” you slurred, tears starting to dribble down your face.
“it’s alright- nn, you’re being so good for me.” he praised, hearing your moans shift up and octave from how much you loved that sort of attention. he nuzzled himself in the crook of your neck, biting and kissing the marks he made afterward, making you shiver.
yukichi thrusted into you a little faster, noises spilling out of your mouth with a staccato. you felt yourself getting closer to your release, yukichi taking notice and starting to stroke you to your finish as he chased after his.
you sobbed in his hold, legs wobbling as you begged silently for him to release in you, “agh… close! ‘m so close.” you felt yukichi’s hips stutter as you started to clench around him, the older soon coming to his close as well.
“do you want me to-?” he started to ask, only to be interrupted with your constant pleases, looking up at him with desperation. he pumped his fist around you faster, causing you to arch your back, shaking vigorously from heightened simulation.
soon enough, you spilled onto his hand and your stomach, yukichi kissing you to keep you silent. you moaned lowly, him pistoning into you before stilling, filling you up as he thrusted slowly to ride out his high. you could feel some of it leak out, dripping onto the sheets as you sobbed from the aftershocks.
“are you okay..?” yukichi asked after a while, keeping himself settled inside, deciding not to move so he wouldn’t overstimulate you.
“mmmn.. yeah..” you mumbled, feeling his fingers brush your eyes, wiping away the tears that dripped. he was always good with aftercare, making sure you were alright, soothing your cries with whispers of praise.
he picked you up, making sure to slide out of you gently. he cleaned the both of you up, grabbing another pair of robes to dress you in as he changed the bedsheets. you drifted off to sleep as he was tidying the bed up, your husband taking notice and kissing you on the forehead, placing you onto the bed and tucking the both of you in for the night.
ranpo unlocked the door to his dads’ home, mumbling, “man, i can’t believe poe wasn’t home. i was really looking forward to reading his novel..”
he closed the door behind him, heading toward the laundry room, tearing off his coat to throw it into the basket. just as he was about to leave the room, he saw a slight shine from the corner of his eye. he thought it could’ve been jewelry of yours that might’ve dropped into the sheets but as he got closer his eyes widened in horror.
he yelled, running out of the laundry room with and embarrassed look on his face, “these guys are so GROSS!!!”
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cloverdaisies · 3 months
Text
HOW TO SURVIVE SENIOR YEAR ☆
ERIC SOHN x reader 𝜗𝜚𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
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˗ˏˋ description:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : a chaotic how to guide on surviving high school with an 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 crush on the skater boy with the locker next to urs.
˗ˏˋ genre: ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭: pretty much chaos & fluff !
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚ word count: ɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆: 5.4k+
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚ dt : ɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆: for bar! @sohnric sorry it’s so late ! ! yk, e v e r y t h i n g that’s been going on & i’m sure you don’t mind! merry late c h r i s t m a s i <3 u very much, i tried to incorporate everything for you… i think these prompts definitely reached the right person!! ৎ୭… so for my bar ! ! …..
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# FRIDAY 21ST SEPTEMBER 1996
# MORNING! 🌥️
The unbearable series of screeching from the school bell, cued the sound of wheels scraping against the pavement outside. A pair of blue cargo jeans complimenting a classic pair of red jordan’s glued themselves to a skateboard as it began flipping and jumping curbs. The wire of a walkman dangling, the flimsy headphones leaking sounds of a noisy guitar through the hallway of the school.
“Eric Sohn. No skating in the corridor and you’re late to class.” A nerdy-looking hallway monitor approached the skateboard wielding boy, holding out some form of citation for Eric to sign with a wavering hand.
“I’m not signing that.” He laughed, snatching the sheet making sure to crumple it into a tight ball before throwing it behind him. “You didn’t see me. Thank me later.”
The hall monitor, whose name tag read ‘Younghoon’ looked down with eyeballs bulging from his skull at the cigarette in his palm, tears pricking his waterline. Eric continued to skate the corridors to his homeroom, biting into an apple with that jaw of his that had to have been sharpened by the gods-
at least…. that’s what you saw….
Eric was a childhood crush of yours, considering you two lived on the same street growing up and you still vividly remember the heart eyes that pumped from your skull when you watched him play basketball on his driveway from your windowsill every night after school. Everything he did was enchanting, he made the simplest things look hot and his charm was next level too.
As for what Kevin sat next to you was seeing: just some dude burping and blowing it into his friends face afterwards.
In your sick love fantasy, you still thought he was the funniest most angelic man to first stick his feet in the soil of the earth.
“If you wanna survive senior year, you need to stop staring at him like that. it’s gross and it’ll leave you the minute it gets heart eyes for anything else. How many times can we have this conversation?” Kevin laughed and scribbled down, ‘1. NO F**K BOYS (especially Eric Sohn)’ in bright red ink at the top of your page.
“So!” Your homeroom teacher waltzed into the room with a wide grin glowing from cheek to cheek. “The class of 96’ how do you feel?! Your time at this school is almost over! Some of us are setting good examples, sat in our actual chairs and not the table Mr. Sohn?”
You giggled as Eric turned with a sigh, crossing his arms and sinking into his seat, secretly you hoped he would catch eyes with you just for a second and share a smile. However, the boy just put his headphones back on and slammed his head on the wooden desk as if he were to fall asleep.
You looked down at the diary where,
“ 1. NO F**K BOYS ”
had been written so passionately by Kevin and thought, if you’re gonna make senior rules, you should at least make the best high school ‘how to’ guide the world has ever seen.
——
The entire school day, word had gotten about ‘Kyu’s first party of the semester’ renowned for his crazy mansion of a house, and parents that were home a concerningly small amount of the time. Happening tonight, you hadn’t even thought about what you were gonna wear yet, or the fact that Kyu himself was Eric’s bestfriend.
Eric had a rather large friend circle of boys in your year, from Juyeon who was into sports to Jacob who was a bit of a music nerd and closer to Kevin if anything. Despite this, neither you or Kevin had received an invite to Kyu’s house for later that day.
# LUNCHTIME ! 🍛
Filling your metal tray and sitting next to Kevin on the end of one of the empty lunch hall tables, before you you could even begin biting in the panini you’d paid for, it was snatched out of your hand by...
“Sunwoo, that was my sandwich.” You groaned, looking at your empty plate and then back at him with a glare. “Do you not have your own food?”
“This looked nicer than my food, just have it back.” He shrugged dumping the half eaten sandwich back on your plate.
“Oh no it’s all yours.” You smiled sarcastically watching as he smiled and took the sandwich back in one animalistic gulp.
“So sorry about that y/n. Isn’t he just awful? I got you a new one.” Hyunjae, as if the entire scene was staged, sits beside you with his hand smoothly rested on his cheek. He pushed a new sandwich in front of you with a carton of orange juice sat at the top of the tray.
You rolled your eyes before you almost tripped over your comically untied laces (how did both of them end up that way?) You flew backwards only to be caught by Hyunjae, once again returning to his cringey script.
“Falling for me, I see?” He smirked lifting you back to your feet as you sat down to retie your laces that had been undone by someone at some point in time.
“Is this just going to happen every lunchtime?” You cocked an eyebrow with a huff, tying bunny ears in your converse and briefly looking back up to the boy.
“Of course, however each time it just gets more creative.” He smiled confidently, you were unaware that these were romantic gestures since Hyunjae made it seem like one big joke with his extravagant concepts.
“Please make it stop.” You rolled your eyes and tucked into the new sandwich, Kevin laughing to himself. You began to zone out as you noticed Eric from across the canteen, sat on the table skateboard propped up and talking to his friends. He looked at you momentarily with a smile before you were interrupted by Hyunjae waving his hand in front of your face.
“Are you guys coming to kyu’s?” Hyunjae asked, biting into his own.
“No. We’re not cool enough.” Kevin began to fake cry, wiping invisible tears and squealing in a high pitched whine.
“He said anyone can come, of course you guys are invited. When has he ever asked anyone?” Sunwoo added punching Kevin the back lightly and taking a seat at the table. “Just show up.”
As lunch ended, you found yourself digging through your locker for the biology notes you’d written the other day. However as you dug through your shelf you just couldn’t find them.
“What you looking for?” A deep voice alarmed you, looking up to see Eric Sohn throwing his jacket in the locker that belonged to him next to yours.
“Oh. Uhm.” You stuttered for a moment, wondering if your eyes and ears were telling you the truth. “Just some notes for biology, we have a test coming up.”
“Oh yeah, you can borrow mine for now. Just slot them back in my locker on Monday.” Eric passed you a few pieces of A4 with neatly printed notes, the cigarette resting on his lips bobbing as he spoke.
“Thanks, that’s uh, really kind of you.” You smiled as he shook his head nonchalantly.
“It’s nothing, don’t stress.” He added before breezing past you to the exit of the school with a confident stride in his steps, his skateboard under his arms.
# EVENING 🌌 :📍Y/N’s HOUSE
“Okay so what are you wearing?” Kevin asked turning around in his sequin shirt and jeans, complimenting his outfit with a crossbody bag and sunglasses.
“Uhm. Not sure yet. Might go for baggy jeans and a sequin top too.. I have a lot.” You showed Kevin the options, watching as he scratched his chin and looked between them.
જ⁀➴ৎ୭ OUTFIT OPTIONS:
(feel free to mix & m a t c h!)
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“Gorgeous!” Kevin smiled, fixing you a few necklaces of his behind your neck. You smiled and looked in the mirror briefly before setting off down the block.
The house pulsated the entire street as guests spilled in the front door to the infectious rhythm playing at max volume from the many speakers around the house. A kaleidoscope of vibrant lights drowned the space, as drinks circulated everyone from the kitchen.
House parties tended to be like some sort of cringe trashy and incomprehensible version of a homecoming dance for adults that you couldn’t seem to understand. Sure they were fun but, high school students embarrassing themselves sure wasn’t.
“Hey Kevin.” A very drunk Ji Changmin sauntered over to us at the entrance, “Who’s the plus one?”
As Changmin looked over with his devilish glare, apart of you started to get nervous. As if you were mixing with the wrong crowd, a gentle flip in your stomach warned you, something was about to go incredibly wrong.
“Hi, I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself with a smile, as he passed you a beer from the many in his arms.
There was one thing that would determine whether someone would survive senior year: alcohol.
“2. PARTIES = STATUS”
Probably one of the most screwed survival tips, but unfortunately for teenagers who were just short of legal age a sip of liquor was enough to emphasise them as ‘cool’. Even if drinking is not your thing, the general consensus of being popular in senior year was to attend parties, host them and make lethal mistakes whilst there.
Throughout the night, you and Kevin found yourselves bouncing from group to group eventually watching Sangyeon and Juyeon play the most intense game of cup pong ever played in the competitive sports world.
♫ ANOTHER NIGHT - REAL MCCOY playing from speakers ♫
“Do you wanna take this one?” Sangyeon asked, holding the ping pong ball in front of you with a raised eyebrow.
“Me?” You asked laughing from the sidelines as he nodded, standing up properly you walked towards the table where most eyes were fixed on the table.
You’d gotten the grips of how to play, grasping the ball with a nervous clench before watching as Juyeon stared down the table with a sly smirk, his arms folded over his white tank top.
Bouncing off the table the ball hit the top of the few cups cups before landing in the fourth, making Juyeon’s total three. The crowd watching laughed as Juyeon threw his head back in defeat, taking the cup and gulping down its contents.
“Taking advantage of beginners luck is dirty play.” Juyeon shook his head at Sangyeon who laughed knowingly. “Whatever. If I land this you’re drinking this.”
Sure enough, as Juyeon bounced the ball across the table it landed in one of the two cups left leaving one. You’d hoped he’d missed not wanting to get to drunk around a group of people you’d never met. Nevertheless you took the cup and necked it’s contents, with a cheering crowd. Juyeon eventually won against Sangyeon, seeing the close of world’s most competitive game of cup pong.
A few drinks through the night, your brain chemistry had already began buzzing and the socialite in you stepped out of hiding, as you spoke to almost everyone you encountered. Hearing commotion from the living room, you dragged Kevin to investigate.
The room buzzed with anticipation as people gathered in a circle, forming a tight-knit group. Nervous giggles filled the air, drowned out by the music playing in the background. Sunwoo placed a bottle in the center of the circle, ready to determine the first pair of an early game of ‘spin the bottle’.
With a flick of his wrist, the bottle spun, its rotation echoing the excitement in the room. Hearts raced as it slowed down, pointing towards its chosen target. The room held its breath as the Sunwoo locked eyes with a girl he’d had a crush on for most of his childhood, their cheeks flushing bright pink as he made eye contact. With a playful smile, Sunwoo picked out one of the ‘fates’ written in the hat, revealing the crumpled paper to the crowd.
“Kiss.” He laughed nervously, smiling as she was, the circle squealed in anticipation. He leaned in to give her peck which raised a “booo” from the crowd at the underwhelming gesture.
“Y/N JOIN IN.” Hyunjae yelled from the group, causing the circle to laugh at how pathetic he was. You jokingly stepped behind Kevin to hide as “Join” began to be chanted in the room, persuading you to sit down in a gap made by Hyunjae and Haknyeon.
You took the bottle and spun it, the booze causing nerves to disappear. As the bottle began to slow down, Hyunjae grabbed the glass pointing it towards him - no one protesting considering this was his life long goal.
You sighed, hoping the paper in the hat wouldn’t do you dirty in this situation, looking up you noticed a familiar figure. Eric’s eyes stared down at you, stood from the other side of the circle, rested against the mantlepiece in his tank top and baggy jeans - a bottle of beer gripped loosely in his hands.
All of a sudden, your hands began to shake in adrenaline, Hyunjae’s eyes wavering as he noticed the way you looked up at the other boy. You began to unfold one of the pieces of paper from the hat, “7 minutes in heaven” you could have screamed. This was truly a worst case scenario, as the circle cheered and Sunwoo ushered the two of you to the bathroom.
Hyunjae locked the door with a sigh, sitting both legs in the bathtub and taking a lengthy swig of his beer in a saddened manner.
“Are you not going to do anything?” You asked curiously, folding your arms and taking a seat on the toilet cover.
“No.”He sighed, resting the bottle on the side and turning to look at you with an inquisitive stare, his eyebrows furrowing as if they contemplating internal questions.
“Why not?” You asked further, leaning forward as Hyunjae’s confident demeanour seemed to have suspiciously faltered.
“I see the way you look at him.” He suddenly spat, as if something within him snapped. “You’ll never give it up will you. Everyday, I do something to make you laugh, smile and show you someone cares. Yet… Every time I try, you’re still staring at that motherfucker who wants nothing to do with you.”
“Sorry?” You asked almost confused, the outburst seemingly unnecessary as he went to speak again but was interrupted by an ominous banging at the door.
“I get you guys are probably exchanging cooties in there, but I need to shit.” The sweet sound of Haknyeon’s charming voice and vocabulary echoed through the bathroom causing you to hold back a laugh in the situation.
“Listen y/n. I need to ask a favor.” Hyunjae proposed, stopping you from reaching for the handle of the door. “My parents have been bugging me about having a girlfriend, since my brother has one now and they’re telling me I’m a good for nothing man who will never be able to commit to someone. Which is kind of true. But will you pretend to be my girlfriend to get them off my back?”
“Will I? Hmmm….” You pretend to think for a second before retorting with a loud. “NO.”
“Please. I’ll help you get him, I’ll do everything I can to help you win Eric over. I’m one of his bestfriends.” Hyunjae’s eyes glistened in genuine sparkle, an expression you’d only come across once or twice in your life.
“I’ll think about it. But for now, it’s not a yes or a no.” You closed the conversation, head spinning as you opened the door, Haknyeon spilling into the bathroom and beelining straight for the toilet.
“3. DONT PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE’s GIRLFRIEND WHILST YOUR TRYING TO GET THE ATTENTION OF THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE.”
Oddly specific rule, however as you proceeded down the stairs it seemed you wouldn’t have to convince people you were dating - their dirty minds had already assumed what had happened in that bathroom.
“You’re on.” You looked back at Hyunjae with a smile before linking arms with Kevin to leave, the party only dying down in the early hours of the morning.
# SATURDAY 22ND SEPTEMBER 1996
# MORNING 🌥️
The gentle rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, birds began chirping outside, and the comforting aroma of breakfast drifted from the kitchen. Your eyes stuck together and your head booming with music from the night before, on the floor Kevin was sprawled emitting gentle snores.
The sound of a car horn outside, immediately brought you to your senses, with your fingers your gently moved the curtain to see Hyunjae leant against his car.
“Your dating Hyunjae?” Kevin asked, giving you the fright of your life as he appeared over your shoulder.
“No.” You immediately refuted, getting shivers from the sickly idea of having to date such a inferior choice of male.
“So why’s he here?” Kevin asked with a sarcastic voice, laughing at the stupidity of the scene.
“We’re dating but like just so his family gets off his back.” You sighed, standing up out of bed and beginning to make yourself look more presentable.
“You’re FAKE dating, Hyunjae?” Kevin’s jaw dropped even more than it already was if that was even possible. “That isn’t gonna look good to lover boy now is it?”
“Listen, he’s helping me get him. He’s on the inner circle, if I have a chance of getting Eric this is it.” You sighed taking your clothes to change in your arms.
“I’m calling Jacob.” Kevin suddenly added, pulling out his nokia with its antenna.
“Don’t you dare he said don’t call unless it’s emergencies, he’s in exam mode.” You recalled, knowing Jacob is practically unreachable during exam season.
“This is an emergency.” Kevin emphasised each word with a sarcastic edge.
“It’s not and if you call him, I’ll make your life so difficult.” You pointed at the boy with a warning finger before walking out to meet Hyunjae in front of his car.
♫ ALL THE SMALL THINGS - BLINK 182 playing from the car radio ♫
“Hey.” You smiled, climbing into the passenger seat of his car, the soft top rolled down so the breeze would eventually leave you wind swept. “Where we heading?”
“Bowling with my parents.” Hyunjae grumbled, more than happy you were in his car but visibly stressed with the entire situation.
“Is this all I have to do and I’m not your girlfriend anymore?” You suggested, leaning your head on the side of the car and letting the wind catch your face.
“Should be. Then I’ll tell you all about him.” Hyunjae chuckled, one hand on the steering wheel and another raking through his hair.
The bowling alley downtown was lively, decorated with neon lights and the sound of crashing pins. The smell of hot dogs and nachos wavering faintly in the air. The lanes are filled with laughter and ‘friendly’ competition.
Hyunjae swiftly introduced you to his mother and father, who looked you up and down before sending him an impressed smile.
“I’ll have to warn you dear y/n, they both get a bit competitive.” Hyunjae’s mother smiled as Hyunjae age his dad began squaring up to each other in the lane.
Whilst you were putting on your shoes, you felt a pair of eyes on you from somewhere unable to tell where.
“Hey y/n!” A familiar cheerful voice greeted you, looking up shell shocked you saw Eric, dressed in his work uniform with a lollipop. You felt your heart shatter, Hyunjae had to know he worked here, he set you up, but why?
Eric looked gorgeous in uniform you had to say, his pinstriped shirt and jeans complimented by the blue cap. However, you had bigger issues.
“You on a date with Hyunjae?” He asked, polishing a pair of shoes behind the counter next to you, happening to notice how pretty his hands were. “You look pretty, he’s a lucky guy.”
What did he say?
“Oh Eric! You met my girlfriend! This is y/n!” Hyunjae wrapped an arm around you with a condescending smile, for you everything felt as if it had frozen in time.
Eric swivelled the lollipop in his mouth for a moment, observing the look of shock you’d tried to conceal with a smile on your face and chuckled to himself.
“Landed a nice one there haven’t you buddy?” Eric almost began to patronise his bestfriend, a look of suspicious nature hidden in his big smile like a cheshire cat.
“I’m just going to go to the bathroom.” You giggled before excusing yourself to the toilets across the arena with a nervous pace.
“Well that backfired.” A voice sounded, someone pulling you back from one of the booths in the canteen. Kevin and Jacob sat like spies with sunglasses tuxedos and newspapers had been watching the entire time.
“He set me up.” You sighed putting your hands in your head. “I know he’s jealous of him but i didn’t think he’d go this far.”
“It’s Hyunjae. This is probably hilarious content to him.” Kevin rolled his eyes as Jacob nodded along, them both peering around the corner to watch the scene unfold.
“Y/n have you ever considered that Eric might like you?” Jacob asked taking his sunglasses off to look at you properly before you answered.
“He definitely doesn’t like me like that, maybe as a friend?” You suggested, twiddling your thumbs together over the wooden surface.
“Well he doesn’t seem to like the entire you and Hyunjae thing.” He added looking back over to the icy conversation between the two boys at the check in desk - Hyunjae’s parents stepping in to tell him they were ready to play.
“How can you tell?” You furrowed your brows in confusion, waiting for the reply as he began to speak.
“Duck! He’s coming.” Kevin quickly hid you under table covering you with his jacket as they both got back to their newspapers.
“Kevin?” The sound of Hyunjae’s voice from above the surface startled. “You seen y/n anywhere?”
“No? I saw her come in with you.” Kevin cleverly redirected the question allowing the boy to shrug and walk in a different direction looking for you.
“I told you these disguises wouldn’t work, we needed the moustaches.” Kevin hissed across the table to Jacob, the both of them having watched a few too many over the summer.
“Listen what do I do? Because I can’t tell Eric I’m fake dating Hyunjae because then he’d find out I was doing it because I have a stupid little thing for him!” You exclaimed, frustrated as you’d fell right in to Hyunjae’s trap.
“4. DON’T FALL FOR YOUR CRUSH’S BESTFRIENDS BLACKMAIL”
“I wouldn’t call it little. But hope things work out for you!” Jacob smiled angelically ignoring the pain shimmering in your eyes.
“Me too!” They began to gather their things ave scramble, about to take flight from the situation.
“Where are you guys going?” You asked panicked they were about to ditch you and leave the sticky situation.
“Getting you out of here.” Kevin replied taking your arm and sprinting out of the nearest exit - they may have set an alarm off for opening a fire door but oh well.
“5. DO HAVE FRIENDS THAT WILL GET YOU OUT OF SITUATIONS YOU CAUSED YOURSELF”
# MONDAY 24TH SEPTEMBER 1996
After hibernating in your bed for the rest of the weekend and 13 times Kevin had tried to ring the landline to check if you were okay. It was time to face them all at school and you could not think of anything worse.
“Oh my god. It’s aliveeee.” Kevin acts out a poor excuse of a Frankenstein impression as you laughed and breezed past him to your locker.
“If you see Hyunjae hide me.” You chuckled as he signed ‘rodger that’ with a salute and began rambling about the pasta he cooked for dinner the night before.
All of a sudden you were pushed into the locker, Kevin stood in front on you casually reading a book as Hyunjae walked by with a question mark above his head. He didn’t bother asking where you were, assuming if you weren’t with Kevin you weren’t there at all.
You eventually broke free of the hiding spot, fixing your hair and brushing down your clothes. The sound of wheels rolling down the corridor coming to a halt beside you.
“Were you?-” Eric was about to ask but refrained considering Kevin was signing ‘cut’ and ‘shush’ behind you flailing his arms around like a maniac.
“Here’s your notes.” You smiled, a touch of pink rising to your cheeks as your hand grazed his defined one, the notes you’d borrowed in pristine condition.
“Thanks, cutie.” He smiled, the nickname causing you to freeze up in your tracks, you knew he only said it out of courtesy or like the others that was ‘just his personality’ but it made your heart melt - as you watched him skate down the corridor, his biceps flexing to maintain balance.
You managed to survive your classes without being berated by Hyunjae or any of his friends, having to sadly eat lunch in a cubicle surely wasn’t a high moment of yours.
Soon the bell was sounding for the end of the day as students flocked out of the grounds excited for the school’s baseball match that evening.
“There she is!” You heard an annoyingly shrill voice yell from behind you, as you were about to cross the car lot. Behind you was Eric Hyunjae and Juyeon, walking in a line towards you whilst Eric was on his skateboard.
“Told you I saw her.” Eric laughed as you were clearly avoiding Hyunjae at all costs, you turned with a bitter smile as they got closer.
“You coming to Eric’s big game tonight?” Juyeon asked giving a friendly elbow to Eric, clearly nervous as it was the first big game of the season.
Eric looked at you with an ounce of hope, only to be quickly shot down, but you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes sparkled at the idea.
“No she’s actually got a date with me.” Hyunjae answered for you with a snide tone, eyes flickering towards you.
“No,no. I think I’ll go.” You smiled, “I really like baseball.”
“I don’t wanna interrupt you guys.” Eric looked between you both with something suspicious lingering behind his eyes as he turned his baseball cap to the left.
“You’re not interrupting us! Perhaps this ‘date’ can be on the pitch.” You suggested looking at Hyunjae’s wide eyes, knowing his plan was falling to pieces but he couldn’t disagree, not in front of everyone.
“Cool.” Eric smiled smugly, “See you there.”
You watched as him and Juyeon walked to the pitch for pre-match practice. Not wanting to spare Hyunjae anymore time, you walked at lightning speed in the direction of your house, ignoring him yelling your name from behind you.
“Y/n give me a second.” Hyunjae caught up to you on the sidewalk, grabbing your arm to turn you around. “You don’t have to do this anymore, go get him. It’s clear you’ll always love him and I can’t change that. I’m sorry, I took it too far.”
Despite the fact you appreciated the apology it seemed as if it was a little to late, he’d already tried to bring everything crashing down between you and Eric and now he thinks the both of you are on a date at his game. You smiled at him and nodded, swiftly turning on your heels and rushing home.
# LET’S GO H A W K S, LET’S G O O O !!🏟️
The chanting of cheerleaders and commotion amongst the crowd sang from outside of the pitch, Kevin and Jacob having already bought snacks rushed to a bench with good sight of the pitch.
“I’m so excited for this, there’s literally no way we lose.” Kevin watched as your school team walked out on to the pitch, immediately spotting Eric and making smoochy faces at you.
You didn’t notice too much of Kevin’s torment, as you were captivated by the sight of him. Eric looked up at the bleachers as if he was scanning the crowd for someone in particular his eyes landed on you for a moment - or Kevin maybe even Jacob.
The game commenced, no home-runs were scored by the competition and our team was not looking to beat them either. Time was running out as the ball left the hand of the pitcher, Eric stood in formation waiting for the ball to reach him. He swung the bat behind him and hit the ball with astonishing force triggering a roar from the crowd. He made a run for it, it was a home-run, the winning home-run.
“Go get him girl.” Kevin said as the players began to leave the pitch, watching as you ran off immediately to find him.
You patiently waited outside the locker rooms for him, knowing the other players would be tossing him around and winding him up. He eventually emerged from the lockers, wet hair and a towel around his neck.
“Can I talk to you?” You asked as he caught eyes with you, confused to why you’d waited.
“Sure, where’s Jae?” He asked, following you as you began to walk to somewhere more private.
“I’ll explain all of that.” You sighed, looking back at the boy for a moment, feeling your heartbeat pause in time as the sunlight hit his skin.
You both made your way under the bleachers, Eric already making a joke about what happens underneath them before even getting there.
“Eric. I have to say this otherwise one day I’m going to implode.” You began, your heart facing the adrenaline kicking through your veins and it was as if a theme park was screaming in your stomach. “I like you.”
A silence sat amongst you, the conflict in his eyes bouncing back and forth making you increasingly apprehensive for what he was about to say.
“Y/n I can’t do this to Hyunjae. Listen I really like you but that’s my-” Eric tried to collect himself, holding on to the top of the bleachers with one arm and wiping his forehead with the other.
“Eric we’re not dating! I know you can see that.” You pleaded with him, watching as his gorgeous eyes twisted to confusion.
“You’re not?” He asked, more than confused.
“No…. I agreed to ‘fake’ date him to get his parents off his back and to get to know more about you. But.. he took it too far and I think he might’ve been jealous I liked you.” You admitted, chewing your bottom lip and looking anywhere but at the boy fresh off the pitch in his baseball uniform.
“I don’t know because what if you’re lying to me.” He suggested, you couldn’t get offended because what if you were?
“Eric you’ve known me since we were kids I wouldn’t lie to you, I wouldn’t get anything out of doing that.” You reassured him, watching him contemplate ideas in his head as if mini cogs were turning.
“Y/n I know I don’t show it, but I really was interested in you but Hyunjae I couldn’t hurt him. Do you mind if I?” He asked, pulling you closer to him with his back leant up against the metal beam behind him.
“Of course I don’t.” You smiled, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched that beautiful grin of his spread across his lips, his brown eyes sparkling down with the sunset peaking through the gaps of the rows.
He kissed you, so sweetly, so gently, holding your face with the palm of his hand and bringing your waist closer as your stomach flipped and your heart filled with love. As you parted he brought you into his arms, it was the warmest hug that just felt as if everything was right.
“Now that you’ve said it, it makes sense. I’ve never seen someone avoid their boyfriend so much until now.” He laughed thinking of the time you escaped the bowling alley with Kevin and Jacob and further went to extreme lengths to avoid him at school too.
You giggled in his arms, looking up to his face that smiled back down at you, gently moving in for another kiss.
“I think I won twice today.” Eric laughed, giddy with excitement the grin on his face practically beaming from ear to ear.
That’s how you sort of survived senior year.
tagging: @juyeonszn @deobienthusiast 🤍
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sanguineterrain · 7 months
Note
sanne i know nothing about these men but… somehow i know you’ll do something so delicious with that little panicked reach for them (ready to catch them at all costs) if they trip ever so slightly + jason todd…. or dick if he fits better :] they’re vigilantes right like surely the reflexes are turned up to 11
ruby!!! hello my dear <3 i appreciate u sending a prompt for my newest brainrot :D makin me feel warm n fuzzy inside. short n sweet! thank u for the prompt :)
dick grayson x gn!reader. fluffy, reader trips for a second.
****
"...And I was telling her about this new coffee shop that had just opened, and she wants to bring her stupid boyfriend! Like, what is that about?"
Dick smiles as you walk backwards, cup of froyo in one hand, bag in the other. He's offered about a hundred times to carry both, but you refuse, insisting he needs to save his strength for patrol.
That had earned you a very unimpressed look.
"Not to play Devil's advocate, honey, but you also have a boyfriend—watch the pole!"
You dodge the telephone pole before you ram into it. The close call does nothing to discourage you from continuing to walk backwards. Dick shakes his head.
"Sure, fine, but you're actually fun to be around, Gray."
"I'm glad you think so, sweetheart, I really do try. Hot dog cart!"
You walk around said hot dog cart. Dick sighs at you, fondly exasperated.
"Can't I persuade you away from walking backward, dearest darlingest?"
"I'm practicing for my initiation into the Titans," you say. "Anyways. Where was I? Oh, yeah. If you met this guy, you'd get it. He has the personality of desk gum."
"Is that gum you keep in your desk, or..."
"It's the gum kids stick under school desks that you probably have to use a blowtorch to remove. And he acts just like that! You know he made her give up a—"
"Babe!"
Your next step is wrong as you cross a curb. The dip in the sidewalk makes you wobble backwards, and you squeal in surprise, froyo flying out of your hand.
You brace yourself to sit hard on your butt. Instead, a strong arm wraps around your waist and yanks you back to solid ground. Dick's other hand darts out and neatly catches your froyo cup.
"Are you okay?" Dick doesn't wait for your answer, herding you to a nearby table in front of a cafe. He sets everything on the table and takes your ankle in hand, rolling it experimentally.
"Dickie, I'm fine," you say, petting his head. "Just a stumble."
He huffs, then looks at you, hair falling into eyes.
"Now will you walk forward?"
"Only if you'll hold my hand," you say, wiggling your fingers.
"Is that supposed to be a bargain? I'm basically getting two things I want," Dick says with a grin.
He pulls you to your feet and hands you your froyo, but not your bag. When you reach for it, he tuts.
"Ah-ah. How will you hold my hand, then? Plus, you need at least one hand free to balance."
"You'll always catch me, though," you say.
Dick kisses your temple. "'Course I will. Still not getting your bag back. Let me be a gentleman, hm?"
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bakubunny · 5 months
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twelve days of kinkmas: a little tradition (1)
part 2
a/n: starting the month with a little bakugo fluff. was gonna do aizawa smut first, but @neon-gothicc inspired this with her denki fic so here u go i hope u like it friend.
pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader
prompt: mistletoe
tags: pro!bakusquad, mention of alcohol, katsuki has anxiety, shy!reader, first kiss
see the prompts and join the fun here
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If his plan didn’t work, Denki was a dead man. He knew that much. It was early December, and Eijiro and Mina were hosting the first holiday party of the year. After telling them his idea weeks ago when they’d announced the party, Mina had a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and Eijiro was all stupid romantic grins at the thought.
As the couple got decor in place, setting out food and drink for the event, Denki helped set up decorations by hanging things that were a little too high for Mina to reach on her own. When everything was ready and the clock struck seven, people slowly began trickling in as the party started.
Katsuki walked in the front door after Sero. He looked around the room, not noticing much at first. Then he saw it, and turned around to walk out. Sero grabbed him by the coat and pulled him back in.
“Oh, no Bakubro. You dipped on every holiday party last year. You’re staying,” he said.
Denki, the little fucker he is, hung a sprig of mistletoe over every single doorway in the apartment that Katsuki could see. The two blonde men locked eyes, one with a glare and the other a nervous smile.
Yeah, he was a dead man.
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
You were in the main living area where most everyone was gathered aside from him and a few others playing a game of some kind, looking like a dream, and Katsuki didn’t know how to handle himself. He couldn’t pull his eyes from the pretty red nail polish that complimented your outfit. It resonated in his head, the way you laughed so genuinely at every one of Sero’s stupid jokes as you sat near him. He felt like he was going to be sick. At some point, Katsuki caught your eyes glancing at the doorways once you’d noticed the first one, but you’d seemed unphased.
Of course she doesn’t care, you fucking idiot, he thought. You’re the only one who’s bothered by it.
As the night dwindled on, every once in a while people would “follow tradition,” giving chaste kisses to their significant other.
He’d hardly spent time with you at all. Truthfully, he didn’t have the courage to.
You’d been on his mind for years, little bits of banter going back and forth as you worked at the front desk of the agency. But he never had the courage to ask you out on a date. It felt stupid; Katsuki had all the confidence and smooth talk in the world when he’d first become a hero, knew just what to say to charm the pants off of any person he wanted to fuck. Then he met you three years ago, and it all came to a screeching halt. His stomach got tight, his mouth went dry. He’d fumble things in his hands for no reason, feel his cheeks heat up whenever you spoke to him. He fucking hated it. His friends never shut up on it, either.
Katsuki noticed there was no one in the main entryway to the dining room where snacks and drinks were displayed, so he took his chance and managed to get through the entrance and then to the bathroom unscathed. He slumped down onto the toilet and started at the floor for a long moment. Red, tired eyes looked back at him when he got up to wash his hands.
“I should just fucking leave. Don’t wanna be here anyway,” he mumbled to himself.
Another knot tightly wound itself in his gut.
It was too loud. Everyone was getting drunk. And tonight, he just didn’t care. He knew his friends must have something up their sleeve, convinced that he gives a single fuck about you when he’s told them time and again that, no, he doesn’t. That they need to butt the hell out of his love life. Because if he were to admit to them that he did, they’d only get worse.
Katsuki also knew that if he ended up under the mistletoe with you, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold himself back.
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
“Just talk to him, honey!” Mina said quietly with a smile. “Or go take his seat. That’ll start something.”
Your face flared with heat; you’d been debating on approaching Katsuki all night. He looked miserable sitting across the room, but was engaged in other conversation for the most part.
“No, you’re crazy,” you replied.
You stood up and went to grab a glass of water from the dining area. Denki called out as you walked away.
“Hey, wait, can you get me-”
You ran into a wall of muscle with your head turned back to look the other way. Katsuki stood in front of you seemingly dumbfounded and not having noticed you either.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry!”
“‘S fine, you okay?” he asked quietly.
“Kiiiiiss,” Sero shouted from across the room.
“Yeah, it’s tradition. You have to, bad luck if you don’t,” Denki quipped.
One look up and sure enough, you were smack under the entryway.
You stepped back with a nervous laugh and met Katsuki’s gaze. “N-no, it’s okay.”
“C’mon, just a little peck,” Eijiro said.
Katsuki watched your cheeks flush, and the words came out of his idiot mouth before he could stop them.
“Dunceface is right, y’know. Tradition’s tradition,” he mumbled.
With a smile and a sigh, you relented. You pushed onto your toes to reach Katsuki’s cheek and kissed him. As you pulled away, two large hands grabbed your face. Katsuki kissed you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs.
The sudden uproar of noise in the room faded in Katsuki’s head as he kissed you once, twice, and again. His heart hammered in his chest. By the second and third one, you were kissing him back. He almost couldn’t believe it.
For once, he thought, Dunceface had a pretty good idea.
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sorry i forgot to add the tag list 🤦‍♀️
if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡
gremlins: @callm3senpaii @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @neon-gothicc @zazter-den @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @mhadabiandhawks4eva @yazminetrahan @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @ayeohoh-blog @dinomeow @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @nanamisbigassschlong @223princess @pastelbakugou @gold24fish
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nicksbestie · 2 months
Note
hi :3333
maybe johnnie looking after his autistic gf [fem reader] after a hard day at work, like shes overstimulated/overwhelmed n tearful & quiet? and maybe asking jake for advicebc johnnie isnt sure how to help[?]
u dont have to stick to that exactly, feel free to swap their roles around or change a part if it makes it easier to write :3
i loved this prompt <3 i hope i did it justice!!!
Work Day
warnings : none!
pairing : jake/reader (platonic) johnnie/reader (romantic)
word count : 1141
There were a lot of hardships that came with being disabled, and nobody knew that better than you did. It was even worse when it was a disability that wasn’t always visible to the naked eye, because outsiders would doubt the struggles that you faced every day, as if they weren’t real because they couldn’t see them. However, this didn’t mean that nobody saw your hard moments, they were just reserved, as much as possible, for the closest people in your life. 
Like tonight, when you had just sped home from work, desperate to be back in a familiar setting, and had nearly stormed in the door, unintentionally slamming it behind you. You had been through what was possibly your worst day in a long time. Everything had bothered you, even the things that you were normally fine with. You had forgotten how to do some of the work that you needed to know how to do to finish a project which had a fast approaching deadline, and you had piles of other things to complete which had fueled you being incredibly stressed. That had been the start to you being incredibly overwhelmed, and every little thing that piled on after that had made you feel like sobbing and screaming in frustration at the same time. 
Finally getting home, you threw yourself down on the couch, screaming into the cushion before going completely quiet, the tears that you couldn't let out at work coming out of your eyes now. Had you known that your boyfriend was home, and no more than one room away, you would have skipped the screaming part, but you couldn’t take it back. You noticed that he ran out of his room as soon as he heard you, eyes worried when he spotted you laying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, but not really seeing anything. 
“What’s going on?” 
The concern was evident in his voice, but you just didn’t have the energy to talk, so you just slowly shook your head, crying. Though your relationship was relatively new, you knew that Johnnie understood what your silence meant, and you knew you probably wouldn’t be speaking much for the rest of the night. Luckily, the couch was wide enough for two, and he laid down next to you, quiet as well. 
“Awful day?” 
You nodded, not really moving much else of your body, despite him being so close to you. You would’ve normally immediately curled into his side, and the fact that you didn’t was really a testament to how bad you were feeling. Not having the same struggles, Johnnie often felt rather helpless when it came to your bad moments, but he was always there. He just didn’t always know how to help. He was learning, and he was taking in every new part of you with stride, and doing everything he could. However, sometimes, you just needed someone who fully understood you, and Johnnie knew that too. There wasn’t any jealousy there, simply understanding and love. 
“Do you want me to call Jake and ask him if he can come over for a little while?” 
You nodded again, knowing that he was going to ask that, and being incredibly grateful for it. You loved your boyfriend, more than you could put into words, but there were times when you needed someone that didn’t need you to fully explain what was going on for them to understand. Plus, you weren’t feeling very verbal, so it would be a lot easier for someone who could relate to verbalize your feelings to Johnnie. Johnnie gently laid a soft kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling his phone out of his back pocket to make the phone call. Due to the fact that Jake and Johnnie don’t talk on the phone all that often, Jake picked up quickly, immediately concerned. 
“Hey, is everything okay?” 
“Not really, but I’m okay. It’s her, she’s struggling today and I don’t really know how to help.” 
You could practically hear Jake’s expression, knowing it was one of empathy. You’d seen it in person too many times to count. 
“Oh no. Do you want me to talk to her?” 
“She’s not speaking right now. Do you mind coming over? Are you busy?” 
Jake laughed down the phone line, but there was no cruelty behind it. 
“Of course I’m not busy. Even if I was, I’d cancel. I’m on the way over. Am I on speaker?” 
“Yeah, you are.” 
You could hear the sound of Jake getting into his car, and knowing that the two closest people in your life that you cared the most about were willing to drop everything to help you made you want to cry and smile at the same time. As he drove, he asked various questions, having a general idea of what was going on, but still wanting to fully understand before he attempted to help. By the time he arrived at your house, you were wrapped up in your weighted blanket, curled up next to Johnnie, noise canceling headphones over your ears. Johnnie gently tapped you, alerting you to Jake’s arrival without scaring you because you couldn’t hear the door opening. 
You knew they were talking to each other because you could see Johnnie’s lips moving, and you could pick up a lot of the words, but didn’t really care too much to insert yourself into the conversation. A lot of it was Jake explaining why you had shut down, why you didn’t want to talk, because it felt like it cost you too much energy, and how both of them could help. After a couple of minutes of speaking to Johnnie, Jake moved more into your eyesight, waving, and offering a gentle hug. Taking him up on the offer, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing tightly for a little bit of deep pressure therapy before letting go and sitting down on the opposite side of you. 
A fact about your relationship with Jake was that due to the often moments of you both becoming nonverbal, or semi verbal, each of you were fluent in ASL. Johnnie was learning, but not completely fluent yet, and you and Jake began having a conversation of your own. Upon learning that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast, he asked Johnnie if he would mind getting up to get you some food and he could continue talking to you, which, of course, he didn’t mind at all. He immediately got up to get your comfort foods, and you and Jake continued to talk about how you were feeling, and what they could do to help. At the end of the conversation, all three of you ended up just spending a lot of quiet quality time together, watching some shitty comedy on TV and making a bad day a lot better.
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partycatty · 2 months
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Can you do Johnny and a Fem reader thats taller than him? I'm getting KINDA TIRED of the whole 'u look up at him' thing like... no I don't.
the prompt made me giggle bc i have a mk oc that's taller than most people LOL
johnny cage > improv
johnny meets his new partner in his upcoming action movie, he doesn't expect to be outshined.
notes: johnny's like 6'1 probably, so i'm making the reader somewhere around 6'4ish. just taller. like "look down at him" taller.
[ masterlist ]
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a new action movie? hell yeah, no problem, johnny figured as he walked with a sway in his arms. walking onto this set and that set was something he was fairly used to, and he practically owned his little area in this particular studio, considering just how often he picked up their projects. what he didn't anticipate, though, was his usual spot by the temporary living space was taken up by a trailer that was most certainly not his. who uses that color on the exterior?
then again, he thought, maybe something changed. maybe his assistant rented a different model and he was supposed to try it out. so, like the gentleman he is, johnny tries the door to the trailer that opens with a firm click. the last thing he expected was to see a figure at the other end of the trailer, sitting at a screwed-in vanity and humming under their breath.
"excuse me," johnny calls out, crossing his arms as he takes a few more steps inside. "i believe we haven't met."
you swivel in your chair, removing the earbud that was settled in your ear. when you realize who you're talking to, you sit up straight.
"oh," you're surprised he just welcomed himself in. "hello. are... is there something you need?"
johnny swallows, a little weirded out by it all. "yeah, actually. uh... you're in my spot."
"your... spot?" you raise a brow, looking around for the imaginary chair he must have been referring to. "i don't follow."
johnny shakes his head. "it's... nevermind. this spot on the lot is usually for the lead role."
his comment makes your brows knit together. "i am the lead role."
you can see the gears turning in his head as he realizes what he got himself into. you're an A-List celebrity, just like him. johnny wasn't going to be the top dog like always. it all makes sense now, reading the script and realizing why all of the emails were cc'd and never directly sent to his manager; you're the lead, he's the secondary.
all johnny could do was step toward you, now looking down at you as you sat at the vanity. his expression is blank, though there is a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks for being wrong. god, he hates being wrong.
"oh, sorry," your hands grip the sides of the chair, snapping him and yourself from the silent tension. "suppose i should introduce myself."
you hoist yourself from being sat and tower over the actor so easily it's a shock his knees don't wobble out of nervousness. you're tall, so damn tall and it flusters him even further. he doesn't even realize your hand is outstretched, he's too busy swallowing thickly over your shadow overtaking his form.
"you're..." johnny trails off, finally attempting to shake your hand. "nice to... meet you. sorry, i—" he spins on his heel and exits the trailer with a slam. you chuckle, realizing he was covering his face sheepishly, raising his sunglasses to the top of his head. interesting first impression.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
shooting the first scenes came quickly after your introduction, the weirdness of it all still bothering johnny ever so slightly. as you stood side by side he couldn't help but steal nervous glances. his side eyeing was not only incredibly obvious but reminiscent of a dog.
he always thought he was into people smaller than him, considering he himself was a big guy. but the way you'd use your height to your advantage, or the times you could look over him, he was blushing like a maniac. tragically, one of the scenes you two were meant to shoot was one where your characters were in a heated argument.
"if we let them go now, this entire mission would have been for nothing!" his character shouts, running a hand through his hair and fidgeting with the prop gun on his hip. "i'm sorry, but i can't let you get in the way."
you weren't blind, you could tell your presence made him anxious. thankfully, just as his specialization is doing his own stunts, yours was improvisation. and boy, was now a time as ever to take advantage of this skill. letting out a faux-angered growl, you grab both of johnny's hands and slam them against the wall above his head. you lean down to get to his eye level, a snarl on your face that leaves johnny a stuttering mess. your frame was much larger than him, and with the way you bent down, he was completely caged within your grasp. you noticed the director stand up straight in amusement.
"listen here, you son of a bitch," you follow the script flawlessly, tone straight like you didn't pin your co-star to the wall. "you're gonna take an order and that's that, are we clear?"
johnny looked like he could agree to murder right about now. His eyes are hazy as he wets his lips and darts his eyes between yours. "loud and clear."
a loud "CUT!" saves johnny from further embarrassment, and you pull away from him like it was nothing. if the director was complimenting either of you, it fell of his deaf ears and johnny's far away gaze as his hand falls to his chest to check his racing heartbeat.
"you alright, lil guy?" you fold your arms and stand in front of him, a smirk toying at your lips, but you knew his fragile ego wouldn't be able to handle your full cockiness. however, you were sure the insertion of the nickname got to him like a metaphorical gunshot as he clutched the fabric of his shirt.
"peachy, doll." his grin was so strained he looked to be held at gunpoint. you had never seen an actor, of all people, to struggle this hard.
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ikinremu · 9 months
Text
|| Nsfw || R U mine? || Tommy Shelby
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Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader
A jealous Tommy smut oneshot! Please feel free to request oneshots/drabbles/blurbs on my page :)
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The glare of Tommy's eyes punctured your chest, shooting through you like the spear of a dart. Usually this gaze you'd been subjected to would set your heart racing - but today was rather different. You peered across the well-lit hall, an idea suddenly sparking in your mind. Your relationship with Thomas Shelby was exceptionally complicated - that was no secret, though earlier that morning, said relationship had crossed a bump in the road. It was a simple situation - he'd pissed you off. And in this moment, you knew exactly how to return the favour.
If there was one thing to note about Thomas Shelby - it was that with a substantial amount of provoking, his jealousy could defy the scale. You knew that like the back of your hand, and had no shame in using it for your own petty games.
You ambled through the throngs of people, passing figures adorning silk dresses, waistcoats and suits as you approached the bar. To your delight, a familiar face loomed behind the polished, wooden island, bottles arranged on the collection of shelves behind the man. You took it upon yourself to perch atop one of the vacant bar stools, swivelling the copper plating slightly as you adjusted yourself to a suitable position.
"Frankie?!" You lifted your lips into a graceful smile, the barman flickering his gaze away from the stained cloth bunched between the hooking of his knuckles - looking to inspect who had called for him.
"Oh, hello!" He chuckled, his thick, untamed brows raising ever so slightly, "Fancy seeing you 'ere"
"Tommy brought me." You spoke, the mention of his name prompting you to send a swift glance in his direction. And as you'd suspected - more so planned - his focus was completely set on you. "And.. you too, I thought you strictly worked at the Garrison?"
As Frankie began spluttering out a rather tedious monologue about how he 'wouldn't miss an event like this..', you allowed a wave of smugness to wash over you.
Tommy hated Frankie, he utterly detested the man. You were unsure as to why, always had been, but you certainly knew it was a long lasting affair. You'd never cared to get involved in what you viewed as such a minor situation - this very moment finding you particularly grateful for your lack of interest.
"But anyway, can I get you somethin?" The barman's voice suddenly snapped you back into the room, dark eyes briskly wandering across your person.
"I'll just have a French seventy-five please." You requested, sporting a sweet smile as Frankie nodded in response.
"Coming right up."
As your view alternated from the front of his waistcoat to the back, you turned your head to scan for Tommy's whereabouts - though this time it wasn't so simple. All you could truly see was some rather eloquent looking groups making small talk beneath the hall's chandelier.
Before you knew it, the man responsible for completely baffling you was stood directly to your right.
"Tommy." You beamed, presenting a weak attempt at concealing your self-acclaimed victory.
"We best be off." He spoke, the low tones of his voice snaking into your ear, "Something needs takin care of at the Garrison."
Internally, you called very obvious bullshit - however, externally you found yourself willingly demounting the copper plated stool.
"Bye Frankie, we've gotta leave!" You exclaimed, briefly eyeing the sight of the man turning to face you - looking somewhat disheartened. He offered a rather idle wave, granting himself a sip of what would've been your beverage.
The sound of Tommy's muffled disapproval lingered aside your ear as the two of you exited the hall - his fingers still tightly clutching your lower arm. The pair of you took a sharp turn, a sleek door swinging open, soon clanking against the doorframe as it trapped you inside.
It wasn't so much a room you'd arrived in, more so an ill-lit cupboard.
"Garrisons had a redo, has it?" You mimicked curiosity, apparently nowhere close to amusing the man stood before you.
Tommy's piercing eyes returned to you, shooting a warm buzz down your body.
Mere seconds passed of you awaiting the gruff tone of his voice, but instead you met a significantly different form of response from his lips.
His callous hands went to cup your jaw, lips intertwining with your own in a deep, messy kiss. In a rather instinctive sense, you melted into the embrace, his tongue snaking a path between your lips.
Without breaking contact, Tommy stepped forward, surrendering you to a fairly harsh bump against the wall. His left palm weaved it's way down your silk-clad stomach, sneaking it beneath the gentle ruffles of the dress he'd treated you to. He reached the now sodden fabric of your underwear as his lips pressed further against your own, his nimble fingers beginning to trace supple circles around your pulsing clit.
"This what you wanted, eh?" He grunted, softly nibbling the skin of your ear.
You nodded, an arch hollowing out between your back and the wall supporting it. A whimper escaped your throat as you helplessly sank into the feeling of your panties being dragged down your legs.
"Off." Tommy huffed, pitch pupils sending a clear signal in the direction of your black dress.
Before you knew it, any previous cover of yours had been wholly discarded, leaving your body shamelessly bare - Tommy being a single garment away from matching your state. His underwear was shortly hauled down and tossed away, releasing the sight of his erect cock.
"On your fuckin knees." He grumbled, gently tilting his chin towards the polished flooring. 
His words alone had the power to intoxicate you - and weren't afraid to do precisely that. A roaring flame couldn't help but ignite in your lower abdomen, tantalising your growing arousal as you kneeled before him.
The intense wetness of the earlier kiss transferred from the plumpness of your lips to Tommy's tip with a single connection. Pushing your lips further, his cock slid down your throat with one swift motion, the sweet warmth of your mouth wrapping his length.
"Such a good cocksucker, int' that right?" He taunted, words parted by the vibrations of his low groans.
You began sliding your now dripping mouth up and down his shaft, finding the perfect rhythm as his throbbing tip slapped the damp surface of your tongue. Now presented with enough slickness, your soft hands began trailing teasing strokes over his erection.
"Get up." He instructed, watching as your brows contorted into a rather notable furrow. "Up."
At the repetition, you complied - taking a puzzled stand.
The familiarity of Tommy's large hands gripped your behind, beginning to grope the smooth flesh as the two of you took a collective fall against one of the chipping walls.
"Spread your legs for me." The heat of his breath tickled your neck, his mouth trailing sloppy, open-mouth kisses down your clavicle. The split second of your legs parting, Tommy somehow bridged the minute gap between you.
His cock pushed into you, your own drool serving as a lubricant as he filled your tight hole in the most pleasing way - the pair of you slipping sharp moans at the sensation.
As he marked his first thrust, a burning desire seeping through you, Tommy suddenly buried his now reddened face between your exposed breasts. His hips began relentlessly bucking, increasing in several factors as his hot tongue flicked at your hardening, left nipple.
"Fuck!" A breathy whine fled your mouth. It took no longer than a second for his leaking tip to locate the importance of your sweet spots, hard length slamming deeper into the mess of your dripping arousal. His moistened lips nibbled at your pebbling nipple, licking tender circles around the areola.
"Frankie couldn't have you like this, could he? Eh?" Tommy grumbled, detaching his assault on your left nipple.
And there was the jealousy.
"He couldn't fuck you like I do." He punctuated his words with a gloriously deep buck of his hips. "You're mine, mm?"
"Shit!" You moaned, the next words reducing to the simplicity of panting. "I'm yours, only yours. I only want you Tommy.."
A familiar sensation possessed the very pit of your stomach, the beginning of a euphoric release winding itself up.
"I'm getting close." You whimpered, pearly teeth digging into the thin layer coating your bottom lip. Your tight hole pulsed at a rigorous pace, soaking walls clenching around him.
"Fuck, with the way you're squeezing me, so am I." Tommy groaned, pounding deeper into your sopping cunt.
The alluring knot within your stomach expanded, winding tighter and tighter until you felt your arousal peak. The orgasm tore through you, the heavenly sensations transporting you to a whole different realm as you called out - the volume of it taking yourself aback.
"You gonna let everyone know how good i'm fuckin you?" Tommy's pinkish lips curved into that ever so familiar cocky smirk, delivering one final thrust as you felt a warm inflation spread within you.
Your head lolloped atop Tommy's shoulder, strands of your now completely disgruntled hair flopping over with a sense of accompaniment. Placing a gentle peck on your lips, Tommy slid out of you - a rare smile on his face.
You return the soft nature of his expression, "Oh and I think everyone got the message."
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Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! As I said, please feel free to use the requests/asks feature on my page - it’d be greatly appreciated <3
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thecreelhouse · 3 months
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and what if i said “on your knees” prompt with st…s…ste…. oh i can’t even say it……
loml hello!!!!!!!!! 🥹 hope u like this bestie<3
———
“O-okay, you’re— you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” Shoving Steve against a filthy wall in some stranger’s house, you’re determined to make Steve think of something, anything else, other than being trapped in the Upside Down. “C’mon, Steve. I’m not fucking stupid. You’ve been staring at me non-stop lately. Any reason why?”
“Because you’re- you- well,” Steve is trying his hardest to be a gentleman. Or, whatever else is close to that at this point. After diving through the watergate, he’s shirtless and wrapped in bandages, and you’ve only got a mini-skirt on (Yeah, great fashion choice before doing anything related to this hell of a different dimension. Great job!), and somehow lost half your shirt in the process.
You’re not a believer in much, but you’re sure as hell this is fate, or something close, pressuring you to finally make Steve realize you like him just as much, if not more. With your hands holding his arms to his sides, you glance up at him with the biggest gaze, one that sets off the storm awaiting inside him.
It’s the same stare he’s dreamed of time and time again, staring up at him while you’re choking on his cock.
“We could be stuck here for a very long time, y’know.” You purr, running your hands up his sides, careful as your fingertips run over his bandages. “The others are at Nancy’s anyway. We got time to kill. I literally saw you palming yourself when we were walking down the street away from the group— dude, please tell me you’re aware you weren’t that sneaky. You know that, right?”
“I— I don’t want to be mean.” Is all he can bring himself to say, but you laugh, startling him.
“Steve? As much as I love when you’re a gentleman, I’d fuckin’ love to see the old you tell me what to do. C’mon, babe, I know it’s still in you.”
You’re both the worst and best thing to happen to Steve Harrington. You’ve been such a badass through this entire adventure— it’s what you’re calling it, not him— and now you’re begging for King Steve to make a special appearance, boss you around and maybe make you cry, if he’s lucky. He wishes that thought alone, the idea of you crying while he’s ruining you, didn’t make his dick so goddamn hard. You realize how conflicted he looks, wanting to be respectful, wanting to treat you like a person, not just another piece of ass he’s chasing for one night only. You also see the way his eyes darken when you ask him to be his old self, to be mean to you, and you’re determined to lure that part out of him.
“I’m a big girl, I can tell you to stop if I need. Promise, Steve.” You’re hoping this helps, it comes off as begging, like he’s in control, but you’ve got the reins here, even if it’ll all be in his favor. “C’monnnnn, you nearly died, don’t you wanna—“
Steve’s fingers wind through your hair, soft at first, but once he has the handful he was searching for, his grip tightens, hard. You whine at the way he tugs your head up closer to his, nearly meeting him at eye level, but you’re on your tippy toes regardless.
“Nearly died saving your sorry ass. We nearly fucking died, and all you can think of is getting off? Seriously?” Steve’s eyes drop to your lips, pouting with need. “Open.”
Your eyes widen at the way he’s switched so suddenly, mouth falling open on his command. He spits into your mouth, thriving over the sight of you gagging on his own spit, without even kissing you. “That enough? Or you need more?”
Unsure what he was asking this for, you shrug, pussy throbbing as he tugs harder on your locks. “Heard you had the best mouth in our class, wanna prove it?”
Dizzy, you nod softly, in awe of how quick it was for him to jump back into his old ways. “Please? Can I?” A mixture of his spit and yours spills between your lips, right onto yourself. He watches the mess you make with a smirk, one that would’ve killed you back in high school, and still kills you now.
“Only ‘cause you sound so goddamn pathetic right now.” Steve loosens his grip on your hair, but has enough of a hold to push you towards the floor. “On your knees, honey. You said we got time to kill, don’t fuckin’ waste it.”
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savventeen · 9 months
Text
you say the stupidest (sweetest) things
pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: 16+ (for swearing) wc: 4.5k prompt: seungkwan + "things you said at 1am" summary: you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession warnings: insomnia, mental health issues, dissociation mention tags: fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, reader is a little unhinged but who isn't tbh, they're also highkey allergic to genuine expressions of love/affection but they're working on it, banter, stimming, wrestling like children to try and work through emotions, reader is some flavor of lgbt+ (they make an "i've never done anything straight in my life" joke), reader's pov is dramatic bc they're dramatic oops a/n: this is for @dokyeomin as a part of my emergency commissions (check out the post here) and this was only supposed to be 1k but it 100% got away from me... i hope you still enjoy the fluff and all of the attached nonsense <3
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From: Y/n 🔪 [11:47pm]
yo kwannie if i impulsively decide to go to the 24h convenience store how harshly do u think they'll jusdge me for buying every flavor of gummy candy available *judge i wanna see if i can melt them down into one Ultimate Gummy u know for Science
Seungkwan pauses brushing his teeth and stares down at your messages.
To be fair, it's probably not the strangest thing you've ever texted him. He's known you since your second year of college, after all, so he has about half a decade of experience with all of your various y/n-isms under his belt now.
Which is how he knows to trust his gut when it tells him that this probably isn't your usual brand of nonsense.
He spits the toothpaste into the sink and dials your number. You answer on the second ring.
“Before you say anything,” you start, “I was only half-serious about the gummies thing. Like, it's a fun idea, you know? In theory. But in actuality? I do not want to deal with the mess that it would create. Or the smells. Well, the smells might actually be pretty good depending on—“
“Uh-huh,” he interrupts dryly. “Y/n, when's the last time you slept?”
The beat of silence that follows is enough to confirm his suspicions, and the hesitant “Um” that follows is just the icing on the cake, really.
He sighs. “The fact that you have to think about it says enough.”
“I don’t need to think about it,” you argue petulantly. “I just… don’t wanna tell you.”
“Y/n...” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Look, I know, I'm sorry.” And you do sound a little bit sorry, at least. “I'm just. Having an episode. Don't worry about it.”
His shoulders droop as the words sink in. “Episodes” are what you've taken to calling your intermittent bouts of serious insomnia.
Generally speaking, you sleep about as well as the average twenty-something with a caffeine addiction. But every few months or so, it's like your brain completely forgets how to shut off and you end up staying awake for 40+ hours straight.
“Well,” he says, putting his toothbrush away and going back to his bedroom. “You know that ship has sailed, right? You know I'm gonna worry about it.”
Your deep sigh crackles over the line. “Yeah, I know.”
“So. Where're we at this time?”
He mentally braces himself. The two of you have done this enough times now that he knows that you know there's no point in trying to lie or beat around the bush.
“Uhhhhhhh, I'll be hitting the 46-hour mark in about 20 minutes.”
“Aish.”
The fact that you can say that so casually makes his heart hurt. He knows that whenever he doesn't get enough sleep, he makes sure everyone knows it and thus babies him accordingly. But you've always been so intent on hiding anything and everything you struggle with. It's taken years for him to bully himself past the walls you keep hidden behind shit-eating grins and an over-willingness to help.
“Okay,” he says, moving to the dresser to grab an extra set of clothes. “I'll be over in an hour.”
“Wait. What?”
“You heard me.” He tosses the clothes onto his bed before going to grab one of his duffle bags, firmly asserting, “You've got an hour to mentally prepare yourself for my arrival.”
“Honey, you've got a big storm comin',” you quote at him without hesitating.
“You sure do,” he assures with a snort. “Better get ready to feel the wrath of my friendship.”
“Why do you have to love so aggressively?”
He rolls his eyes while he throws his clothes into the duffle bag with one hand. “Because it's the only way you'll accept it, idiot.”
“No, it isn't.”
Your pout is so audible through the phone that Seungkwan has to stop and glance at the screen in disbelief.
“Y/n. Y/n L/n. Do not stand there and lie to my face like that.”
“I'm not lying!”
“Not—” He gesticulates wildly with one hand like he's going Can you believe this shit? to an invisible TV audience. “Okay, tell me this: what did you do the last time I sincerely monologued at you about how much you mean to me as a friend, hmm? No bits, no bullshit, just me telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are.”
A beat. “I'll hang up on you, Kwannie, don't test me.”
He barely resists the urge to shove his face into the bedspread and scream. “You're literally proving my point right now!”
“Kwannieeee,” you whine, because you know he's right.
“Also, because I'm never letting you live it down, I will remind you exactly what you did."
You say his name again, but it's muffled, and he assumes it's because you're hiding your face in shame.
“I gave you a sincere, heartfelt speech about how much your friendship has changed my life for the better and made me become a better person—” he ignores your wordless pterodactyl screech, “—and how do you respond? By staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, slowly raising your arms to give me double finger guns, winking, and then slowly backing out of the room like an awkward mannequin!”
“...”
“Well?” He puts his free hand on his hip. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“… I’ve changed a lot since then.”
Seungkwan rolls his eyes before moving to continue packing his overnight bag. “It was literally three months ago.”
“Yeah, and? Doesn't change the fact that I've changed,” you assert.
“Into even more of a nuisance? Yes, you're absolutely right.” He smiles when he hears you scoff playfully.
“Listen here, Boo Seungkwan. You know that well-rested Y/n is ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. What do you think sleep-deprived, zero-impulse-control Y/n is going to do the second you get to their front door?”
“Stop referring to themself in the third person, hopefully,” he mutters, finally zipping up his bag and heading to the door. “And then after that, they're going to let me bully them into resting.”
“Hmm. The council has heard your proposal, briefly pondered it, and deemed it “unnecessary” on the basis of: they're a bad bitch that can't be stopped by neither time nor physics nor any god of your choosing.”
Seungkwan scoffs as he puts the call on speaker and sits to put on his sneakers. “Well, “the council” can go fuck right off.”
“What if the council would like to fuck right on?”
Pausing in the middle of tying his laces, he blinks down at his phone. “I'm— what?”
“Okay, real talk, what do you think it would mean in this case? Like, would this be like a 'hop on' versus 'hop off' situation? Or more like an 'I'm down for this' versus 'I'm up for this' kinda situation? Because it would have very different outcomes depending.”
Seungkwan decides that this is a debate better left for another time. “I think it means that I'm going to be at your house soon and that if you're not in your pajamas with hot Sleepy Time tea and the series Planet Earth ready to go, there will be consequences.”
“Booooooo, you whore.”
He finishes tying his laces and jabs his finger at the phone. “Consequences, Y/n.”
“Ugh, fine.”
“See you soon, love you, bye.” He hangs up before you can get another word in, but doesn't move from his seated position in the entryway.
Slowly, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out, taking a moment to lean back on his hands while he stares at the back of his front door. Specifically, at the large collage of sticky notes and pictures and doodles that have taken up residence there.
A few of the notes are ones he's gotten from other members of your shared friend group over the years (the one from Chan that reads "if u eat my rice i'll eat ur kneecaps xoxo" hangs proudly in the center, right next to a picture of him sleeping that Seungkwan managed to capture from an extremely unflattering angle). But most of them are from you.
Dumb puns, meme references, bullshit animal facts you made up just to get him to laugh… almost all of them are stupid in that extremely charming way that only you somehow manage to pull off.
But the one he's staring at now is almost completely hidden by other notes and pictures that have been added to the collage. It's a pale blue, the ink starting to fade a bit with time — the first note you ever gave him, back when you two were just people who happened to sit next to each other in an astronomy class.
Even though most of it is hidden, he doesn't need to be able to see all the tiny words you crammed into the small space to already know exactly what it says.
how do u make a space party? u planet :P u looked sad today, hope this makes u feel a little better also if this is 2 forward feel free 2 pretend i don't exist. or punt me in2 the sun idk u'd be doing me a favor tbh
He'd almost skipped class that day because of how bad he'd been feeling, but he'd decided to try and push through. And before that day, neither of you had interacted with more than a polite greeting and the occasional question about the homework.
But then you'd passed him that note, and he'd passed one back that said “that's dumb. but thank you” with a smiley face, and you'd passed another one back that said “do u think lizard people have ever been to space?” and the rest, they say, is history.
Seungkwan shakes his head with a sigh before standing up and grabbing his bag and his keys, striding determinedly out the door. He's got a best friend to take care of.
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Seungkwan should be at your place soon, and you're not quite sure what to do in the meantime.
You have your laptop hooked up to the monitor in the living room with Planet Earth queued up, you have the kettle filled with water and ready to go on the stove, and you have mugs and teabags ready on the counter next to it.
The Required Tasks™️ have been completed as much as possible without the arrival of your best friend, and now all that's left to do is wait.
Which, normally, you're not the worst at. You're excellent at entertaining yourself, actually, mostly because there's always something to think about. Whether it be about cute dogs that you've seen over the past week (I wonder if the pomeranian down the street will let me pet him next time), potential plot twists for the new fantasy drama you're a little bit obsessed with (what if Gregothy was cursed the whole time???), or generic ponderings of the human existence as a whole (do souls have the metaphysical equivalent of a fingerprint?), you're pretty much always thinking about something.
Which is totally fine and dandy and cool or whatever when you have the ability to, you know, shut it off. For example, when you need to do something simple and necessary like, oh I don't know, go the fuck to sleep.
You also hate when that manic mental energy somehow translates into kinetic energy as well. It makes you feel like a hamster in a cage, watching yourself running and running and running on that stupid wheel until you exhaust yourself.
Tonight's metaphorical wheel: stimming like wild in the kitchen. Flapping, rocking, (gently) slapping, making weird and fun mouth sounds, the whole shebang.
And again, normally stimming is fun. Stimming is great. But stimming because you feel like if you don't stop moving you're going to literally vibrate out of your skin is, to put it lightly, Not It.
It takes you about ten minutes to work out all of the energy until you no longer feel like your blood was replaced with pop rocks.
With a groan, you lower yourself to the kitchen floor and lay down face first. Because despite how exhausted you feel in every possible way, there's still something like an itch in your conscious, a fucking pea underneath the miles of mattresses that refuse to let you just. Fucking. Sleep.
Your pity party must've lasted longer than you realized (or, more likely, you dissociated for a hot second there) because suddenly someone's knocking at your door at the same time you get a text from Seungkwan.
And you know it's a text from Seungkwan specifically because you got Vernon to help you change your notification settings so that whenever Seungkwan texts you, the "i love you.. bitch" sound clip plays instead of a normal text tone.
For a fraction of a second, you contemplate slowly inching your way to the door like an uncoordinated caterpillar, but you swat the thought aside like you’re swatting a gnat and you awkwardly roll to your feet and make your way to your front door.
Without hesitating, you unlock the door, swinging it open with a flourish and sticking a finger right in Seungkwan's face before he can utter a single syllable, forcing him to cross his eyes.
You open your mouth wide like you're going to say something, pause for a moment, then tap your pointed finger to his nose with a quiet "boop."
He blinks, expression turning deadpan, and sighs. "I should have expected this, honestly."
“Yep!”
You let him into your apartment, and he makes himself right at home, mildly bitching at you as he goes to get the tea ready, and something within you shifts.
The inside of your head is still a bit of a dumpster fire, unfortunately, but inside your chest... something clicks into place that you're not sure that you're ready to name. Whatever it is, though, it's soft and warm and kinda feels like your heart is being hugged.
Smiling to yourself, you follow him into the kitchen.
💤 💤 💤 💤 💤
It was pretty much straight to “business” after that, and it only takes Seungkwan one cup of tea and two episodes listening to David Attenborough's dulcet narrations for him to knock right out, leaning heavily against your shoulder on the couch.
Which means it's now the perfect time to sit there and Admire Your Bro™️.
It's rare to see him so still, you think. He's an active guy, in pretty much every sense of the word, and you always feel a little honored when you get to be witness to his quiet, vulnerable moments like this one.
He looks so serene, face smoothed out and painted in soft twirling shades of blue from the screen of the monitor, though you can't see too much of it from this angle. Mostly you just see his cheeks and stupidly adorable button nose.
And you've seen the same thing a million times before — in all kinds of states and expressions — and despite how much you've tried to ignore it, each and every time you've caught yourself noticing just how cute Seungkwan is, it's caused that thing in your heart to scrunch up, full of the L-word feeling that you've kept unnamed for what feels like forever now.
Except, maybe that thing in your heart is tired of scrunching up. Maybe it's decided that it's tired of forever.
Maybe that thing has finally decided to burrow itself out of the walls you've built up because you find yourself finally allowing yourself to think, Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.
You don't realize that Seungkwan has completely stilled against you, but you certainly notice when he suddenly throws himself forward so he can turn around and stare at you incredulously. Only he overshoots a little bit and ends up falling off the couch with a squawk and a dramatic flail.
"Oh my god, Kwannie are you okay?!"
He stares at you from where he fell, wide-eyed like you've grown a second head or like the time you'd tried to convince him that birds weren't real and actually just a government conspiracy.
"Am— am I okay? No??"
Now it's your turn to move off of the couch, coming down to his level to see if maybe he hurt himself when he fell. "Fuck, okay, did you hit something? Do you need an icepack?"
Seungkwan being Not Okay is maybe one of the worst things that could ever happen in the entire universe and you're trying not to panic as you reach out to check for injuries.
"No, no, stop—" he bats away at your hands and you stop in your motions, now kneeling in front of him. "I'm not hurt!"
Your brain does the cartoonish screech thing as it comes to a halt, and you furrow your brows. "But.. you just said you're not okay?"
"I'm not!" His eyes are still wide in shock, but he also looks confused and maybe a little bit like he's about to cry?
Oh no. If he cries and it's somehow your fault (because it has to somehow be your fault) you think the world might actually end.
"Okay, uh. I am— confused,” you start, sure you must look as lost as you feel. “But, um, what can I do to help?"
He swallows, and a part of you realizes that he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. "Did you mean it?"
Knowing that it's significant but not yet knowing why, you maintain eye contact. "Mean what?"
"What you just said."
You blink. "...that I'm confused?"
He shakes his head. "No, before that."
You have a hard time remembering what you just said when you're not sleep-deprived and worried you've just somehow accidentally caused irreparable emotional damage to your best friend. "Uh... when I asked if you were okay?"
"No, fuck," and it's a shock for some reason, hearing him cuss right now. You hear him say much worse things all the time, but you think it might be the way he said it — with a kind of desperate vulnerability that you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.
That thing in your chest twinges and you think maybe you're the one who's gonna start crying.
He says your name like a plea, and then he's on his knees right in front of where you're kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to cup your face in his palms. "You said— Y/n, you said "holy shit I think I'm in love with you.””
Oh.
You're pretty sure your heart falls right out of your ass and bounces across the rug, judging from the way it comes to a dead stop. You blink at him. Full of new and sinking kind of dread, you whisper, "...I said that out loud?"
He laughs, but it's tinged with incredulity and sounds a little too close to a sob for comfort. "Yes! You did!"
And wait, no, your heart is still stuck in your chest, because you can feel it start pounding against your ribcage in double, triple, quadruple time. He must see the fear in your expression, because suddenly his eyes are narrowed in a determined scowl and he growls, "Oh no you don't."
Then you find yourself going down with a yelp as Seungkwan octopuses himself around you, trapping you within the confines of his surprisingly strong arms and legs as he basically tackles you to the floor.
You try and wiggle away even as you know it's useless, and he grits, "Y/n dammit, answer my question."
"Why were you even awake?” You deflect, getting an arm free and trying to give him a wedgie. “You were supposed to be asleep!"
"I was supposed to be asleep?!” He screeches, easily evading your reach and poking your ribs to get you to reflexively pull back your arm. “You're the one who hasn't slept in literal days! And stop avoiding my question!"
"No!" He has you trapped once again, and you resort to licking his arm.
"Oh my god!"
He muffles his scream into your shoulder, long and frustrated, and then he just... goes limp. He loosens his hold and just lets his full body weight kinda crush the parts of you he's ended up lying on and just... lays there.
This is your chance, you know — to wiggle free and escape and run away from your feelings just like you always have.
But, for some reason, you don't — that scrunched-up thing in your chest holds you back. You stay there, lying beneath Seungkwan on the floor of your living room at one-something in the morning, and the two of you just breathe.
"It's okay, you know," he murmurs after a moment, so quiet you barely hear him over David Attenborough still narrating softly in the background. "If you didn't mean it. It's okay."
Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.
And you realize how easy it would be to play it off, to blame it on the sleep deprivation, the way you blurted it out like that — to say (to lie) you meant it completely platonically, like the way you propose to Mingyu at least once a month when he cooks you all dinner.
And you also realize, quite shockingly, that despite how a part of you still desperately wants to run away, the larger part of you wants to stay. Doesn't want to run. Doesn't want to lie anymore.
You swallow heavily, briefly close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. "And if I did? Mean it?"
This time, you do notice when Seungkwan goes still. Slowly, he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes.
When he doesn't say anything, just continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, you try to continue.
"Would you— would that— would it be okay? If I meant it? When I— when I said that I'm in love with you? Is— because um, like you said, it's okay if it's not, and uh—"
Your nervous rambling comes to a stop when he once again cups your face, but it's gentler than before, closer to a caress. The whole time you'd been talking he'd been slowly sitting up, and now he's on his knees next to where you're still lying down on the floor, looking down at you like all the hope in the world is somewhere to be found in your expression.
"Y/n." he says your name like it's something precious, and you feel the absurd urge to burst into tears. "It would be very okay." His thumbs make gentle arcs across your cheeks. "And just to be clear: you mean it in a non-platonic sense, right?” He chews on his lip. “Hopefully, in a very much romantic sense?"
Staring at him staring at you, eyes bright with hope and a little bit of wonder... you can only imagine you must be looking at him the same way. Your chest feels like it's full of helium but also like something warm and gooey is sloshing around in there. And all that hope and wonder and holy shit is this actually happening? is causing your tongue to stick to the roof of your mouth, and all you're able to get past your lips is a breathless, "Hopefully?"
"Oh my god," he groans in frustration, but it's light and airy and makes you think of amusement park rides and fairy lights and how you want to annoy the shit out of this man for the rest of his life, if he'll let you. He's shaking his head, smiling, beaming, and he asks, "Why can you never give me any kind of a straight answer, huh?"
"Because it's my life's purpose to be the bane of your existence until the day we die," you say, reaching up to hold his face too. "Also because I've never done anything straight ever in my life."
And then your body is moving before your brain can think it though, dragging him down until you can press your lips to his and finally, finally know what it's like to kiss Boo Seungkwan.
He makes a little noise of surprise, one that you can feel buzz against your lips before he melts into you. And oh, any thoughts you might have had are forcefully ejected from your brain because all you can focus on are his lips pressed to yours, the way they move slowly, gently, turning this chaste kiss into the most scorching experience of your life. His nose bumps against yours and the heat of his warm breath sends tingles throughout your body, and his hands, fuck, his hands are still holding you gently but also with a firmness that feels like he doesn't want to let you go.
And then he's pulling away, and you whine at him because this may be the cruelest thing he's ever done to you ever in your entire life. "Noooooo, why'd you stop?"
"Because, as much as I'd love to continue to make out with you on your floor while an old British man narrates about life on the Serengeti—” he mercifully ignores the way you choke on your spit at the way he talks about making out with you so nonchalantly "—it's past someone's bedtime."
Your mouth drops open in offended shock. Was he actually going to put you to bed like a child? Like you both hadn't just declared your romantic love for each other? "Are you fucking serious?"
He just stands up and crosses his arms, looking down at you with a single raised eyebrow. You take the part of you that finds it annoyingly attractive and promptly smother it, crossing your own arms from your position on the floor.
"I'm not a baby," you definitely don't pout.
"Hmmm...” And then the bastard fucking pouts at you. “But you're my baby."
You blink at him.
"Welp, that was nice while it lasted,” you grunt, rolling to your feet, “but I suddenly need to relocate to Antarctica and become a penguin herder.”
He pulls you into his arms with a laugh, and you let him, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.
“You know,” he starts after he's held you for a few moments. “This isn't how I ever imagined how us confessing to each other would go.”
You snort.
“But also,” he continues, “it feels very 'us' doesn't it?”
"Yeah,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head from his shoulder.
“Mmm, is someone finally sleepy?” he teases, starting to waddle you both towards your bedroom. “Did all the emotions finally wear you out?”
Instead of nodding, you lightly kick him in the shin and the sappy part of your brain that is currently in charge of everything thinks that his indignant squawk is one of your most favorite sounds.
The sappy part of your brain is right, of course, and when you wake up in your bed 15 hours later and accidentally smack him in the face, the urge to run is a little bit smaller than it was before. And the way he flushes bright red after you sleepily kiss him on the cheek is an image you're going to cherish until the day you die.
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irisintheafterglow · 3 months
Note
hello!! I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night ^^ I was wondering if u could write about bakugou x deaf reader? Like bakugou’s mom is HOH (which is why she’s always screaming :0) and bakugou knows sign because of that so he can communicate w deaf reader which surprises them!
simple complication, miscommunication (pro!bakugo x deaf!reader)
wc: 2k
cw/tags: established relationship, story of first meeting, strangers to lovers, implied fem!reader but no specific pronouns used (reader does use makeup), guy being an asshole but it's ok because kats scares him away
note: hi!!!! this is probably one of my favorite (if not THE favorite) prompts i've ever received. i'm actually majoring in deaf studies and focusing on increasing deaf/HOH rep in popular media. SO! i really love this prompt. i'm hearing, so i'm always still learning from the deaf and HOH community and acknowledge that i have a lot more to learn! because of this, this is mainly from kats' perspective because i don't think it's appropriate for me, as a hearing writer, to write from the perspective of a deaf reader. i talked way too much, sorry for the long note, and i hope you like this!!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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He can’t remember the last time he was this nervous to see his own mother. 
For the twentieth time, he confirmed that the windows were clear of smudges, the floorboards were as shiny as his Hero Award trophies on the living room shelves, and the wiring on the doorbell light was functioning correctly. Everything was as it should have been. Still, an anxious churning in his gut tells him something is wrong and he throws the front door open without thinking, determinedly jabbing his thumb against the button next to the doorknob. As usual, the bright orange light by the “FRONT DOOR” sign above the hallway flashes once. Everything was working as it should have been, so he couldn’t pinpoint why he felt so nauseous. He tests the door light several more times and completely forgets that you were getting ready in the bathroom. 
When he spots you, you’re wearing his bathrobe and a makeup brush is tucked behind your ear. Your eyebrows furrow in concern of why the door light started flashing an hour early as you peek out from the hallway. He gives you an apologetic look, the corner of his mouth turning down in clear dissatisfaction. 
Sorry. Testing the door light. Your mouth opens into an oh of understanding and you nod, taking note of the subtle ways your boyfriend was trying to hide his nerves. His head appears around the corner of the door when you knock your knuckles against the wall to get his attention. 
You’re gonna break your jaw if you keep it clenched like that. His frown only deepens and he can tell you’re trying not to laugh from the way your eyes sparkle. It’s nice that you’re excited to see Mrs. Bakugo again, but he’s already anticipating the tidal wave of disapproving comments about the new place you recently moved into together. Shut the door, Katsuki. You’re letting the warm air out. He reluctantly obeys, following you down the hallway to the master bathroom and hopping up onto the counter to watch you finish your makeup. He’s careful to sit in a spot where you can sign without having to turn to face him; you catch his eye in the mirror’s reflection and put your brush down with a sigh, raising your eyebrows expectantly. Food done? You already know all his dishes have been done since this morning, but you’re still trying to help him take inventory of the things he doesn’t need to worry about anymore. 
Just need to throw some extra stuff on the salad. I’ll do it before we eat. You nod, returning to tapping a neutral color onto your eyelids when you catch his shoulders sag as he huffs. The makeup brush is carefully set down again and your eyebrows return to their expectant position. 
Wanna tell me why you look so… Your fingers flutter around absentmindedly for a few seconds while you look for the right word. Dejected? 
I’m not dejected. 
Your pouty lip says otherwise, you respond with a small smirk. I’ve loved you long enough to read your body language, no matter how stiff or angry. You scrunch your face up in mock wrath and that finally makes him break the tiniest ghost of a smile. Tell me, please, so I can help you. He shakes his head and you set your mouth in a thin line in light-hearted irritation.
You don’t need to help with anything. My mom can just be a lot sometimes. You know that. You shrug, fondly remembering the first time Katsuki brought you to meet his mother. To your boyfriend’s horror, his mother got so excited to sign that she knocked over her wine glass on three separate occasions. And she really likes you, so she might end up accidentally revealing some embarrassing shit about me. 
That’s what I’m hoping for. You shoot him a wink and Katsuki can feel his face become a little warmer. I’m praying that the woman brings baby photos. His face turns a deeper shade of red and you burst out laughing, your smile a sight that he’d never get tired of. Hey, you rap your knuckles against the marble again and force him to look at you. We’ve seen scarier stuff than your mom. 
At least in those situations, I can blast my way out. 
Sure. But, if you blast your way out of tonight, you’re paying for property repairs. He sticks his tongue out at you defiantly and you copy the gesture, smiling to yourself when he slides off the counter and wraps his arms around your torso, resting his chin where your neck meets your shoulder. Your fingers gently trace his cheekbones and he meets your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. We’ll be fine tonight, Katsuki. I promise. Can’t be any worse than our first meeting, hmm? You feel his chest rumble against your back as he groans, hiding his face in your skin as it heats up again. 
The first time you met Katsuki was a very abnormal case of wrong place, right time. A high-threat crime boss had swiped a political candidate off the street the night before the most important debate of the season, following him as he went out to pick up snacks for his assistants. The candidate was a passionate supporter of public policy protecting the liberties of Pros, and to lose him right before an election would be catastrophic for agencies across the country. To the rest of the city, it was a public emergency; for Katsuki, it was a Tuesday night. 
“Pro on the scene, clear out!” His boots cross the police tape and the cops part the way for him like he was an activated grenade, avoiding his gaze and conveniently finding new tasks that were out of his firing range. Someone from some federal agency approaches him blabbing nonsense about how disastrous this would be if the press arrived and he all but tunes them out, his focus zeroing in on a scene happening just outside of the barricaded perimeter. 
It wasn’t uncommon for policemen to command passing civilians to keep moving, but something about the confrontation he quietly approached felt different. In any other case, the civilians would ask the police about something they weren’t allowed to disclose and then they would leave, maybe sticking around to get their ten seconds on the nightly new segment. You were clearly not like those civilians.
“Hey! I’ve got a job to do, so you better get the hell out of here or I’m gonna charge you for disturbing a crime scene!” The cop was screaming at you to the point where his voice broke and you didn’t even flinch, continuing to stare daggers into him from pure frustration. He tries to yell again and you cut him off with a series of ridiculously exaggerated gestures, looking at the policeman like he was dumb as rocks. “I don’t have time for this, and I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying!” But Katsuki does. 
“Oi!” The cop doesn’t hear him as he storms across the concrete, palms crackling. 
“Fuckin’ crazy–” You look ready to bite off the accusatory finger the cop points in your face when a strong gloved hand wraps around the asshole’s wrist, unceremoniously shoving him out of the way to listen to you himself. “Who the fuck–”
“Get lost, fuckface, and take the uselessness with you,” Katsuki seethes, putting just enough heat into his hands for the guy to yelp and scurry away. He turns around to find a scowl intense enough to rival his own and he takes a deep breath, wordlessly encouraging you to take one too. You watch with caution as he tugs his gloves off and stuffs them in his belt. Sorry about him, he signs and you blink, taken aback. These kinds of scenes make everyone on edge more on edge. 
You know sign?
My mom, she’s hard of hearing. Growing up, she taught me sign as a second language. You nod, still eyeing him a little suspiciously. I need to get back to work, but I just want to apologize for him again. You look like you’re about to respond but he looks down, fishing through a pouch of his belt and pulling out a crumpled slip of paper. This is some coupon I got a while back from a business we saved. Buy yourself a coffee. You take the ripped rectangle with a look of disgust and shock and he nods politely, turning to leave. Before he’s even one step away, he finds himself being yanked backward by the collar of his shirt, readying his Quirk to fire on pure instinct and whirling to stare you down like a bull facing a matador. His palm is scorching against your skin when he grabs your wrist, but you don’t relent. What the fuck are you doing? 
I know where they took him. Give me a map and a marker. His eyes widen and he loosens his grip but doesn’t let go, gently guiding you around the barricade, through the crowds of cops, and into the detectives’ truck. He pushes past the people surrounding the table and pulls up a digital map of the city on the touchscreen. 
Everything’s electronic now, so use this as your map, he explains and you nod in understanding, hesitantly tapping a finger on the screen and receiving a bombardment of paragraphs about crimes in the area. Dynamight’s hand moves up and down at the edge of your vision and you look up, still unsure how you’re supposed to use such a complicated piece of technology. I know. It’s over-engineered and stupid. Do you know the exact address where they took him? You shake your head and he grimaces, running a hand through his hair.
I don’t know the address, but I know the directions of how to get there. On this map, where’s the convenience store? His pointer and index finger swipe around the screen, spreading out as he zooms in on the 2D representation of the site where the candidate was taken. You copy his actions and zoom out slightly again, making sure to remember which rectangle was the convenience store. Is there a way to draw on this? Dynamight pushes a button on the edge of the table and a marker pops out. Cool.
It’s the only cool function this thing has. Everything else just makes my job harder, he signs and swears he can see the slightest smile on your face while he hands you the marker. Miraculously, you’re able to copy the navigation route you saw on one of the thug’s phones while you waited in line at the convenience store. You circle the building in bright pink and the Pro wastes no time, barking out orders to surrounding cops and re-donning his gauntlets and one glove. His ungloved hand helps you down from the truck and he pulls you aside, away from the commotion of the crime scene. Do you live near here? 
A few blocks down, yes. He fishes around a pouch on his belt again and retrieves a black ballpoint pen, handing it to you despite your obvious confusion. 
Write down your address, he signs and he holds out the back of his ungloved hand to you. 
Why? 
I’ll come find you after we make the arrests. Maybe you can let me buy you a coffee. A smirk appears on your lips and Katsuki finds his face heating up. 
Is it gonna be with the tattered coupon? He rolls his eyes and you laugh, a sound that he finds he wants to hear again and again. You later explain to Katsuki and the detectives that you were questioning why the guy in front of you had his brightness so high, and the visual eavesdropping was purely by accident. Everything following the investigation felt like happy little accidents, too: Dynamight showing up at your door one night with two coffees and the last muffin the cafe had, Bakugo crashing onto your apartment’s fire escape after a particularly dangerous operation, Katsuki asking you out to dinner officially for the first time, his mother spilling her wine several times the first time she met you. 
You knew you were in for a lifetime of more accidents when Mrs. Bakugo burst through the door fifteen minutes early, excitedly asking what venues you were looking at for your upcoming wedding. 
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namis-gf · 3 months
Note
Just saw that you’re open for one piece requests and thought I’d drop by.
Would you consider writing back rub and back kisses hcs for katakuri or marco please? And best of luck with the come back ^^
anon ur so insane how did u KNOW i was thinking obsessively about katakuri for the past two weeks straight... ur too good. i meant to stick closer to the prompt but the plot kinda got away from me, sorry!
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summary: strawhat!reader x katakuri meet again after many years apart during the whole cake island arc. luffy has been trying to convince him to join his crew with no success, but maybe he might listen to you?
word count: 969 words / 0.9k
cw: none? i think?
whoever said katakuri was 48 year-old eldest daughter syndrome is absolutely correct. he has so many hangups when it comes to both physical and verbal affection, most of the time preferring to passively sit by and let people bother him. case in point, your captain. instead of immediately setting sail for zou to meet up with everyone, luffy has taken it upon himself to convince the minister of flour that his presence is desperately needed on his crew. permanently.
and, if you're going to be polite about it: things aren't going well. you've watched for two days straight, luffy yelling either to the gentle giant's face (which is still quite a distance from the ground), or attempting to scale the walls of katakuri's home. neither of those particularly difficult for the rubber boy, considering the house slash castle itself seems to be basically falling apart.
you wait. nami often sits by your side, either grouching about the time, plotting your captain's demise, or napping on your shoulder. chopper and brook have taken to an almost betting ring of sorts, getting the remaining residents of komugi island to guess whether their leader will stay or go. so far, the odds aren't in luffy's favour. as usual, you might add.
at the end of their fourth extra night, luffy returns to the sunny. he looks a little downtrodden, yawning, but has somehow gotten a hold of a handful of mochi. "i think katakuri was trying to kill me again, but he lost. the food he makes is really yummy though, shishishi!"
with a sigh of your own, you offer, "let me talk to him, i have an idea."
"you do?" luffy replies, mouth full of sweets, "go ahead!"
"call if you need anything!" chopper chimes in.
nami only shakes her head. "if you don't come back, we'll assume you got trampled to death or something. so don't do that please."
"don't even worry about it, i'm basically a pro social hustler," you tell them, and begin the walk to the castle.
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"so you are not a bard, or a songstress, or a very small jester. your presence here confuses me, you did not seem like someone who would ever become a pirate," katakuri tells you, his tone as solemn as ever.
"is this a roundabout way of saying i don't have any talents?" you mock-gasp with flair, "oh you wound me so!"
he stares at you wordlessly. okay, it looks like jokes are off the table.
"but you missed me right?" you try instead, putting on your biggest smile. "you missed me so bad, must be why you look so grumpy all the time."
"is your captain aware of..." he pauses, considers, "does the strawhat know of your past?"
"sort of?" you shrug your shoulders, shifting forward to adjust like you aren't already lying on one of his legs (truly the world's largest couch). "there was never exactly a good time to bring it up, ya know? like how was i supposed to say 'uh hey guys, i used to work here as the world's worst gardener before i got fired'."
"hm, that does seem difficult," katakuri nods. "i could not tell how much they knew, but you are lucky that none of my siblings happened to remember you well enough to say anything."
"small blessings for sure," you do your best to contain a laugh, however the echoing chambers of an empty castle only make it louder. "anyways, cut the bullshit. you're gonna come with me, right?"
his neutral expression shifts into something like a frown, and yet you can tell he isn't exactly angry at your presumptuousness either. "i would like to accompany you. but my duties to my... mother and the family take precedence."
"and if you left, she'd send the whole gang after you."
he sighs again. "yes, that is the most probable outcome. and i would not wish to put the strawhat crew in danger."
"that's charming," you reply, "but also really stupid. and i know you aren't a dummy, right? you've been hanging around this dreary archipelago for your whole life! don't you want to, i don't know, do something? go on an adventure?"
he doesn't respond immediately, but a large hand clumsily pats your head with his pointer finger. you grin, knowing victory must be in sight. "your totally evil mom doesn't even leave her place that often, so she won't even notice that you're gone! and tell me right now that you don't think luffy would be chomping at the bit to fight her again? be serious, mochi-mochi."
all of a sudden the ground shifts under you, and you make an embarrassing yelp as you're dragged up and up and up. katakuri holds your body by the back of your shirt, and you're only partially worried that he could drop you. death by splat on marble floor isn't appealing in the slightest. you're suspended by a shirt pinched between fingers as he squints slightly, as though looking for a secret in your expression.
"fine," he eventually says, "i will go. but if something goes wrong, do not say i didn't warn you."
"ah, you're bringing me back to old times!" you hum, making a familiar grabby hand motion for him to drop you on his shoulder. "except i think uh, the last time you warned me-"
"you got fired, yes," he says amicably, but acquiesces to your request. "left or right?"
"right! i wanna look like a really mean parrot, mr. pirate," you exclaim, laughing as he drops you gently where you'd asked. feeling mischievous, you press a kiss against his neck and watch as his face goes pink. "we should probably go make sure that you won't sink the sunny, though!"
"... and you somehow did not think to check something like that before?"
FIN (FOR NOW)
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