Tumgik
#what did you guys think do you like it? should i make more of them?
scarfacemarston · 2 days
Text
Teacher!Natasha x Teacher!Reader Oneshot
For Lesbian Visibility Week! If you enjoyed this, please note and reblog! Feel free to send other prompts or requests! Prompt: The students come into your classroom complaining about Natasha as a teacher not knowing you're her wife. This is version 1. You sighed as you glanced at the digital clock on your computer. Damn. Your planning period was almost over, and you really needed to finish grading these essays. Soon, you would be back to teaching your high school history classes for the day. The period ended far too quickly as students began to file their way into the classroom, discussing this and that. You were so engrossed in your work that you were hardly paying attention until you heard “Ms. Romanoff” mentioned not once, not twice, but in a string of sentences. Oh boy. Ms. Romanoff was one of the more controversial teachers at the school known for her no-nonsense attitude, sternness and sarcasm , but she was also fair with a dry sense of humor. “Why did I take international politics as an elective? Oh, that’s right, I thought it would look good on my transcript!” One student said sarcastically. “She’s so nitpicky! I got an A-. AN A MINUS!” “Hers is the only class I don’t fall asleep in anymore. Not since….last time.” “She’s so strict even the Macklin brothers shut up.” “She’s terrifying. I heard she used to be an undercover agent in the CIA”. You smirked at that one. You should probably look into that rumor. “A spy? Shut-up, man. Who’s going to believe that?” “I heard she was a failed actress.” “I heard she voiced the Russian Siri.” “I heard she’s a rich heiress that lost all her cash.” “Look, guys, I don’t care. She just ripped our class to shreds.I just can’t right now. Nearly the entire class failed her last test. These test corrections are going to take all night.” “At least you’re allowed test corrections! We’re her AP class and the only way we can make up points is through a new essay.” “She’s scary. I swear” “I think she knows what I’m thinking and then that makes me think more and then she thinks what I’m thinking and that thinking makes my head hurt.” “I was ONE minute late to class and she gave me a late slip!” “One time my grandma called me in class, and she made me pick it up.” You shot a quick text to Natasha before the bell rang. Her classroom was two doors down from yours since you two were technically in the same department. Time to log off your grading program and begin class. You pulled out the binder with today’s lesson plans ready to begin. “Wow, you all are full of comments about Ms Romanoff today.” You said neutrally. “Miss Y/N, you don’t understand. She’s so ….uh, extra.” You withheld a smirk. Natasha wasn’t what you would call extra, but she was set in her ways.” “I don’t think she’s extra. I think she just has high standards.” You responded. One of the students rolled their eyes.
"Do you all talk about me like this when I'm not here?"
"Nooo Ms. Y/N, we would never!"
"Well, maybe you could extend the same courtesy to my wife next time," you said, withholding a laugh. The room fell silent. A pin could have dropped.
“Fuck” you heard someone say under their breath. “Language”, you chastised, but you couldn’t say you blamed them. You saw the students in various forms of awkward shuffling, a cough here or there or “Ummm” or “Uhh” as students tried to form sentences. “Wait, you’re married?” a student questioned before being glared at by the others. Your fourth period class was near silent for the rest of the period, with the students seemingly still in shock. One minute til the bell rang. You saw a flash of red hair out of the corner of your eye. Thirty seconds. Natasha knocked on the door. “Hey, you, we’re all ordering from Robert’s Deli for lunch. You want your usual or will you finally try something new?” Natasha teased. The class whipped their heads collectively towards the door. It was becoming harder not to laugh. Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on, Y/n?” “Oh, you’re scaring my class, dear!” You said, smiling widely. Natasha scoffed. “Dear, huh? Oh, so they found out, didn’t they? As if us entering the building together and leaving together in the same car wasn’t hint enough that we’re married.  Yeah, I might have scared a few of them. It was well deserved, trust me, Isn’t that right, Reynolds?” Jason Reynolds sank down into his seat, not meeting Natasha’s eyes. The bell rang. The students couldn’t scramble enough as they grabbed their bags and rushed past Natasha. You gave a small laugh as you finally met Natasha. “You’re a mean woman, you know that?” “Hey, you texted me, babe.” “It was great, not gonna lie. Sorry the “secret” is out.” “It’s not like we’re closeted, we’re simply professional. I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner….or maybe I’m not.” Natasha muttered. Your stomach growled. “Alright, I’ll look up the menu. Find something new to try for once. Promise.” You said in response to your stomach. Natasha nodded. “Don’t want you to scare the next class because you’re hungry.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End
533 notes · View notes
sweetestdesire · 2 days
Text
SO DAMN NEEDY
Tumblr media
WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.
PAIRING(S): Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Quinn Hughes is a surprisingly needy boyfriend.
Arms tightened their hold on Y/N as Quinn groaned, burying his head into her chest. Sighing, she glanced at the clock, trying her best to wriggle out of his grip as he fell into slumber once more, but his arms locked her in place again. Mornings with Quinn always tended to be unproductive, he wasn’t one to give in once he decided on something and most mornings, he decided she’d stay in bed with him for as long as his heart was content.
"Quinn.” Y/N sighed, prodding at his shoulder. He pretended not to hear her, the little shit. She could feel the tiny smile on his lips against her chest. "Quinn, let go."
"No." He mumbled. "Don’t wanna." It was an everlasting effort to try not to roll her eyes at her boyfriend, he made the task harder than most. Pinching his arm, she glared at him when he jolted a little, staring at her in shock.
“Quinn, please.” Y/N sighed tiredly, but Quinn could hear the smile in her voice. He could even feel it as her lips pressed against his forehead in a gentle kiss, but he didn’t let the soft touch of her lips bribe him into letting go, however. Instead, he was shifting more weight to press onto her as his face hid in the crook of her neck, pulling an exasperated groan out of her as she glared down at him.
“No.” He mumbled, latching onto her body tighter. “Stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I need to get up.” Y/N huffed. “I’ll be late for work again.”
“Then be late. Just tell them you had important things to do.”
“Cuddling in the morning isn’t important, Quinn.”
“That’s rude.” Quinn interrupted, pouting into her neck as his hands squeezed her hips. “It’s important to me.”
Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes, and couldn’t help but purse her lips as she looked down at the mess of hair under her chin as Quinn tucked himself into her. It was a losing battle every morning, a constant back and forth that she knew she was powerless to win. At first, Quinn seemed like a distant guy. He seemed like someone she’d get lucky to even hold hands with, someone who kept his space and maintained his composure. At least, that’s what she used to think.
It didn’t take long after dating to realize he was quite the opposite. That he was clingy in the mornings, that he needed far too many kisses throughout the day to be normal, that he followed her around the house like a lost puppy, that he couldn’t sleep without her playing with his hair at night. It was funny at first, it was cute and made her just a little giddy that he was as needy as he was around her, but sometimes, like right now for example, it was just a little inconvenient too.
Y/N rubbed over the bare skin of his back, feeling the rippling muscles under her palm. Letting out a content sigh, he nuzzled deeper into her, pressing a tiny kiss to her other hand when it laid on his cheek. “I really should get up.” She whispered.
“I missed you last night.” He mumbled. "Just wanna spend more time with you."
"Quinn, we spent the whole night together, what are you talking about?" Pouting, he gently guided her hand to his hair, leaning into her touch. She smiled at his ploy to get her to stroke through the strands, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as she did.
"Didn’t even talk to me.” Quinn grumbled. "Just slept the whole time.” His voice was accusatory, as if she betrayed him for doing the norm and falling asleep. He pouted bitterly at the memory of being cut off during his rambling by her soft snore.
"Oh.” Y/N rolled her eyes. "Sorry, I’ll try not to do that next time."
"I’ll wake you up if you fall asleep while I’m talking tonight. Swear I’ll do it.” He warned. Y/N snorted, making him crack a smile, humming when she gently scratched at his scalp with her nails.
"Okay, drama queen. You’re bad for my sleep schedule, you know.” Y/N scowled. His eyes closed, the scent of her perfume and body wash wafting through his nose. “Quinn, you have to let go.”
“Don’t wanna.” He grumbled, grabbing her hand and planting it over his head. Y/N sighed and yet, she was tangling her fingers into his tresses and scratching at his scalp. And really, she hated to admit it, but maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault that he was as spoiled as he was. She never seemed to really be able to fight against him, giving him exactly what he wanted no matter how many times she told herself not to.
“You’re so damn needy.” Y/N mumbled, slowly rubbing circles into his back as he sighed happily. She eyed the clock wearily, watching as the seconds ticked by and the minute hand moved slowly but surely until she was late just like she was every morning with him.
“No, I’m not.” Quinn murmured, and then his head tilted up and his lips tugged into a tiny pout as she pulled her hand away from his head. “Why’d you stop?”
“See?” Y/N snorted, pinching his nose affectionately. “Very needy.” Her hand moved to cup his face, rubbing a thumb over the swell of his cheek.
There was something satisfying about seeing someone like him pout as he pressed his face deeper into her palm, something that made her chest swell fondly as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, something that made him that much more human. Sometimes, Y/N almost didn’t think it was the same person. The man she’s watched shove sweaty bodies into the boards couldn’t be the one sprawled over her body right now, couldn’t be the one who whined for five more minutes of cuddles in the mornings as she was running late for work.
“Can’t you just call in sick?” Quinn grunted, plopping his head onto her chest, staring up at her as he propped himself up on his chin.
“No.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “You ask me this every morning. The answer is still the same.”
“If you loved me, you would.” He grumbled, glaring at her as she poked his curled lips with a giggle.
“Don’t I love you when I run late every morning for your extra cuddles?”
“Hardly.”
“You’re so ungrateful.” Y/N flicked his forehead, chuckling as he clicked his teeth and swatted her hand away. “I risk my job for you every damn morning.”
“You don’t need it.” He insisted. “I’ll take care of you, and you stay with me in the mornings. It’s a win-win, see?”
“I don’t think being stuck under you is a win.”
“Oh, yeah?” Quinn grinned, making her heart skip a beat. “But you never seem to complain when you’re under me.” He said cheekily. And he was unfair looking up at her in that handsome way he did, throwing her that lopsided smirk with a strand of hair loosely hanging across his face. Y/N trailed her thumb along his cheeks and across his nose, tracing over his lips and under the crinkles of his eyes. For a moment, she thought maybe he wasn’t the only one who’s needy. She thought maybe she needed him just as badly as he needed her, too.
“Quinn.” Y/N groaned, throwing him a dirty look as he snickered. “I really have to get up.”
“Just five more minutes.” He pleaded, flopping back onto her chest and snuggling against her, tucking his head under her chin. And when she kissed his forehead, he was sure he won just like always.
“You said that like twenty minutes ago.” She raised an eyebrow.
“This time for real.” Quinn mumbled. It was a lie, she knew it as well as he did, but she didn’t think it was a morning without him clinging to her body until she was more than a little late. So with a fond smile and a roll of her eyes, she wrapped her arms around him as she kissed the top of his head, pulling the blanket over his body as he sighed in content.
“You’re such a liar.” Y/N snorted, shaking her head as he smiled victoriously into her shirt.
533 notes · View notes
kenntolog · 2 days
Text
𝝑𝝔 an: so i got like 3 requests ab jealous cool bf sukuna x loser gf dynamic but i won’t be able to tag em since you know they were sadly anonymous. i decided to combine them into 1 fic hehe, hope you guys like it!! read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
cool boyfriend sukuna doesn’t get jealous, alright? he is not insecure or anything like that, he trusts you and you trust him so it doesn’t matter to him if someone tries to woo you or something. but you can be a little dense sometimes since you haven’t experienced a lot of the things people usually do in their teens.
still, he likes to think that you’d be smart enough to reject anyone who tries to make their advances toward you, albeit he is sure if you do it will be in a very polite and a sweet way, much to his dismay. but it’s just the way you are and sukuna loves his loser girlfriend.
but he doesn’t know what’s going on through your mind when this happens;
“do you wanna maybe go out tomorrow?” some guy from your class asks you, a nervous smile as he awaits your answer. you continue collecting your things into your bag and look up at him with a small smile, naively thinking he wants to study or talk about your shared classes.
“sure!” you chirp and then briefly glance at the door of the room only to find your boyfriend standing there, hands in his pockets and a deep frown on his face as he stares at you two.
the guy in front of you almost jumps in excitement from your answer, stuttering out that he will text you later and leaving the room.
“what did that nerd want?” sukuna asks you as soon as you exit the class, his arm taking it’s usual spot on your shoulders.
“oh, nothing much, just asked if i wanna go out tomorrow.”
at that, sukuna’s steps come to a halt as he squints at you with a confused look. “and you said..?”
“i said ‘sure’.”
he exhales deeply before hits the back of your head with a disgusted look on his face, ignoring the way you stare at him in bewilderment, hands flying to rub the spot. but he doesn’t give you time to process anything, tugging you into one of the empty classes and locking the door.
“sit.” sukuna orders, leaving no room for complaint as he lifts you up to sit on one of the desk, planting his hands beside your thighs on the surface as he breathes heavily.
“‘kuna..?” you ask, unsure if you should even say anything while he’s angry at you.
“are you dumb?”
you pout, brows pinching together as you look up at him in genuine confusion, “why?”
“the dipshit asked you out and you said ‘sure’?”
“we were just talking about the lecture so i thought he wanted to study together.” you look down at your lap, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt nervously. “i didn’t realise he meant it like that.”
as mad as sukuna is, he can’t resist that sad little pout on your face; the way your eyes get all wide and bottom lips juts out defensively, cheeks puffing a little. and he is sure you’re not lying to him because he knows you.
he moves away from you, taking a deep breath to collect his thoughts and calm down.
“are you mad at me, ryo?” you ask innocently, hand instinctively finding his to tug at his fingers so he doesn’t move too far, although a bit unsurely. “‘m sorry.”
“i’m not mad.” sukuna intertwines your fingers, pulling you into himself gently. his other hand suddenly finds your face, squishing your cheeks together roughly as he shakes your head from side to side with a sinister smirk. “pull shit like that again and i’ll kill ya.”
“ow, ow— sukuna!” you whine, trying to peel his hand of your face, but he doesn’t let go until he kisses your plumped lips a couple of times. “you’re so jealous!”
that wipes the smirk off his face very quickly.
“i’m not, loser.”
you poke his cheek with a bright beam on your lips, “you are, heh.”
“gettin’ cocky, aren’t you?” he pushes your face away with his palm and steps away from you, leaving you to trail after himself with small giggles escaping you.
suddenly sukuna smirks, his arm around your shoulders tightening it’s hold, “i’ll still beat the shit out of him tho.”
“sukuna, no!”
1K notes · View notes
wittlesissyb4by · 10 hours
Text
Tumblr media
"Okay, so remember, once we have them in their diaper, it's really important that we praise them. They're going to be very averse to their new lifestyle at first, but they have to get used to it.
So we want them to associate their diaper with good things, at least in the beginning. Tell them they're a good boy, that they look super cute in their wittle diapurrs. Pinch their cheeks, boop their nose, and talk to them in your little singsong voice. Guys aren’t used to getting compliments and affection as much, so if they receive that sort of praise and physical touch while they’re in a diaper, they’ll warm up to the idea a lot faster than you think.
Now, once we’ve got them pampered and praised, I like to put a pacifier in their mouth. I find it really helps them regress a few years, makes them more docile, and it keeps them quiet other than their adorable little whimpers. It’s hard for them to do much arguing or fussing when they’re suckling a binky!
After they’ve been praised and regressed a bit, it’s time to *really* get them enjoying their diapers. That means: we’re going to make them cum.
I know, I know, this whole thing is supposed to be a ‘punishment’, but trust me, the ends will justify the means. If it makes you feel any better, the only time they will get to cum from now on will be when they’re in a diaper. That means no sex, and constant supervision to prevent masturbation. You control their orgasms, just like you control where they go potty.
So when we make them cum in their diaper, we never want to reach into the actual diaper. That kind of defeats the purpose. We want them to feel the padding, hear the crinkles, all while changing the way they traditionally garner sexual stimulation.
So what I like to do is place my palm right here on the outside of the diaper, right between their legs, and feel around for their winky. Those of you that have hubbies with little nubbies may have a harder time finding it, but honestly, even if you’re not directly on it, that’s okay. You’ll find they’ll aim their hips the right way for you.
Once you’re on it, you’re just going to do a simple kneading motion back and forth just like this. Long, slow movements at first. Don’t start too fast. You want them to really take in the feelings and sensations. You’ll even see them get a little desperate for more, and it’s up to you if you want to speed up and go a bit harder, keep that same pace, or just take your hand away and watch them wiggle and whimper.
But the most important thing is that this entire stimulation process is never silent. In addition to the crinkling, you want to continue praising them. Really dial up the baybee talk here. You should be reminding them what a good little boi (or gurl!) they are. Remind them what they’re wearing. Obviously they know they are in a diaper, but you need to vocalize it.
‘Wook how cute the wittle baybee is in his diapee!’
‘Hubby wooks so adorwable in his Huggies!”
Things like that.
If they have an erection—which I’m sure they will from all the rubbing—point that out to them: ‘oh my goodness! I didn’t think these pampers could make your pee pee so pointy!’ or ‘somewon sure is getting hard in their Huggies!!’
If they have messes, praise them for that as well. Nothing like getting complimented for pissing or pooping in a pamper. Again, we’re just trying to emphasize the state at which they’re in.
Another way to do that is to have them tell you. Make them vocalize these things:
“Tell me what you’re wearing little boi!”
“Why is it so plump? Did you do something in there? Tell me what you did.”
“Is that something a big boi would do??”
Make them use their little baybee voice, make them lisp, make them make it high-pitched, and make them do all of it with that pacifier still in their mouth!
If they do it properly, reward them with rubbies, if they’re stubborn or not performing up to your standards, pull your hand away. You’ll have them babbling like a baybee in no time!
I know some Mommies that will only do the rubbies while their hubby is jiggling a rattle. If the rattling stops, so do they. Feel free to be creative, as long as they’re being patronized while they’re pampered, you’re doing the right thing!
Alright, so after a few minutes—or maybe even a few seconds—they’re going to be ready to cum. Make sure you emphasize that they have to tell you when they’re close, and they have to do it in baybee talk. I like to have them tell me they have to make a ‘goo goo’. But you can use whatever term you want.
At this point we’re gonna do what’s called a ‘ruined’ orgasm. For those that don’t know, that’s where you get them right up to the edge when they’re babbling and rattling and goo goo ga ga’ing, wait until you see them first start to spasm—then lift your hand away. If you do it right, they’ll be past the point of no return, and all their little stickies will leak out, but they’ll only have a fraction of a pleasurable orgasm.
This is important, because it puts them in this sort of limbo. Where they’re a little satisfied but also still a bit horny and desperate. Don’t be surprised if they whine and cry about it either—you know how men can be. But that’s when you tell them one of your most important lines:
‘Maybe next time!’
That will leave them literally cumming back for more. They’ll be desperate for their next diaper, their next rubbie, or the next stage of their training.
But another important step here is to make them sit in their shame. Keep them in their sticky diaper for a bit, at least an hour or two. Let them feel the warmth of their little load that they made—all while they were in a diaper. And the only way they get to make a load like that again is…in a diaper. We really want to drive this point home. They are not going to cum without the constant sound of crinkling coming with it. They don’t get the love, touch, and affection while they’re in silly boxers and big boy clothes. The only way they get pleasure is when they’re in their pampers.
Wives never believe me, but i promise you, eventually, they’ll actually beg you to put them in a diaper, just so you can make them cum again.
But what we’re not going to tell them is that we’re eventually going to wean them off. They’re not going to get to cum every time they put on a diaper. For the first dozen times or so, yes, they get an orgasm (even a full one) every single time. But then it becomes “well only if your diaper is wet”, which makes them feel good about wetting, cause then they get a rubbie reward. But then they’ll grow used to that as well, so we have to constantly find ways to push their limits.
Wait until you see their face when they push their first poop into their pamper. They’re sooo embarrassed, but they’re willing to do it, all because you said you would give them a goo goo if they make a poo poo. But of course, what you don’t tell them, is that they’re gonna have to cum while they’re still inside their messy diaper. Don’t worry girls, if you get too disgusted, just make them turn over and turn their rubbies into humpies!!
Ohh I just love helping wives turn their useless/ungrateful husbands into helpless and desperate diaper dumpers! I know some that have their husbands wearing huggies 24/7, and sometimes even in dresses too! Even the most homophobic, chauvinistic pig can be turned into a pamper packer, all it takes is a little TLC.
Men are so easy, you can literally control their whole life, as long as you control when and where their balls get emptied. Which reminds me: next week, our workshop is going to talk about a little thing called a ‘chastity device’!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you like my captions, please consider supporting me so I can keep making more. Go to allmylinks.com to follow me on other sites!
108 notes · View notes
Note
Hi! Can I request Masky with a gn! reader that is stronger than he expected? Like, maybe they’re training or even roughhousing and he expects them to fold easily, but next thing he knows he’s on the floor? 😂 I always find this kind of funny, but do you think you could also make it a little spicy? (Also, I did this literally exactly at 2 for me, it’s always difficult to remember where has what time frame y’know?)
I know you said Masky, but I did write for specifically Tim, because my Masky would not have enjoyed this situation.
Tim is a pretty hefty guy. He's decently tall, and he's been working on bodybuilding for years, so he's definitely not lacking in strength. That's why when the two of you started training together, he wasn't exactly worried about losing. He's confident in his abilities, and it's not that he thinks you're weak, but he wasn't really thinking that you'd be able to take him down easily. You've obviously got some power and strength to you too to be able to be one of Slender's employees, but Tim is one of the leaders for a reason because he's one of the strongest in the mansion and he knows how to lead and fight. 
At least, that's what he tells himself as he goes into your training session. You seem oddly relaxed as you stand across from him, and it sets Tim on edge a bit to see you so calm, but he shakes it off, thinking it must be his imagination. He knows you're strong, so he doesn't hold back when he starts launching attacks at you. While he's not intentionally trying to cause you severe harm, it's clear he's trying to test you and see just how much you can handle. Perhaps Tim should have realized that you'd be doing the same to him. You take his strikes efficiently, letting him think he's got the upper hand before you counter one of his hits particularly well. It catches him off guard, and makes him stumble back, but doesn't do too much overall, at least in his mind. Tim clears his throat nervously as he watches you roll your shoulders and crack your neck before you resume your fighting stance once more. He takes a deep breath and launches back to fight you again, but he shouldn't have been so careless. It doesn't take long this time before you've got the upper hand, having memorized all of his moves, and soon Tim is on his back staring up at the ceiling, a gasp shooting out of him as all his air leaves him.
You have him effectively pinned, even pressing your foot into his chest to hold him there, and Tim can only stare up at you in shock and awe as his heart races and thumps beneath your pressure. His face soon begins to flush red, even the tips of his ears staining with the blush taking over him. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" You smirk as you taunt him, and it causes him to grow even more flustered. He opens his mouth to respond to your taunt, but nothing comes out of his mouth as he stares up at you, clearly affected by the situation the two of you are in. When you smile at him, giggling at the situation as you go to help him up, he finds himself feeling vulnerable in a way he hasn't before, and he takes your hand tenderly as you pull him up. Level with you once more, he finds himself staring at you with mixed emotions, but one thing is for sure in his mind; you should do that again. The words slip past his mouth before he can stop them, and they catch you off guard, causing you to laugh again as they settle into your mind. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his cheek as your body flushes against his. When you whisper into his ear that you'd be quite happy to his body trembles against yours, his hands moving to grip your hips before he can stop them. Tim tells himself he's going to have to train with you more frequently as he eagerly presses his lips against yours, his heart racing for another reason now.
83 notes · View notes
kkkimagine · 2 days
Text
YOU OWE ME SOMETHING - AEMOND TARGARYEN X READER.WIFE.VELARYON.
Summary: when your husband arrives late at night soaked and silent, you ask him to tell you what happened. Upon hearing his story, your marriage breaks up and you no longer want to know anything about him.
words count: 2.455
Warnings: angst, mentions of murder, blood, abortion, mentions of knives, threats, my first language is not English so I'm very sorry if there are any grammatical errors, if you see any please let me know.
well, I didn't like this so much, I think I could have made it longer and better but here you go, I hope you like it (as much as I like this one-eyed guy down here, although Lucerys' death hurt me so here I take it out on him hahahaha )
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You heard the door ring, while you continued delicately embroidering a dragon on your hoop, it was a little late and it was still raining outside your window while you were waiting for your husband to arrive, he had brought a message, you didn't know who of course, you weren't told much about what was happening lately, and of course you couldn't leave your room either, at first you were afraid, and you only thought of quick ways to escape or die, not wanting to suffer too much or be a weakness for some side in the event of a war, not wanting to be a weakness for your mother and your family, no one told you anything but you weren't stupid either, King Viserys was dead, you were sure.
- Why do you stay at the door, my prince? - you asked without looking up, but when you didn't receive an answer you looked ahead, looking at your husband, who was standing in the door frame soaked, looking at the floor, almost as if he was afraid to look at you - oh Aemond, you're soaked, you'll get sick, love...
You quickly got up from the chair you were in, well, fast enough that your pregnant belly allowed it, already big enough to bother your back when walking just a few steps, you grabbed a skin that you had on the bed while You put her on his shoulders, caressed his arms a little while trying to look up at his one eye, but he still refused to look directly at you.
- You should be sleeping, dear wife, it's late - he told you, his voice was so low that you thought you had never heard Aemond speak with so much... Regret? - Sleeping poorly cannot be good for the baby.
- What happened Aemond? Why do you come like this? - you took his cold face in your hands, making him finally look you in the eyes, and when he did you hesitated a little, his only eye looked at you with a thousand apologies, you were afraid to ask what had happened - what happened there Aemond?
He was silent for a few moments, wondering what he should do, hiding the truth from you wouldn't be good, you would find out sooner or later, if you came in through someone else it would be much worse, and he didn't want to deceive you, you were his wife and you trusted him, he had to explain the truth to you, even if he was afraid.
- I didn't have control, Vhagar didn't listen to me anymore - he tried to explain while his voice trembled, you had never heard him like that, his voice wasn't strong and confident like always, he seemed like another person - I tried to make him obey me but He had simply started doing what he wanted...
You held his face tightly again, so that he knew that you heard and understood them, although for some reason you felt more and more afraid of knowing what had made him this way, you were afraid of knowing what had happened.
- I didn't want that to happen, that wasn't what I wanted, Y/n, I swear on my life, I swear on my love for you - he began to speak desperately, holding your hand tightly this time - I wanted justice, I just wanted him to feel what I felt, nothing more.
- Who are you talking about, Aemond? What do you want to tell me? Who is it? - You started to get scared, you had rarely heard the word revenge from your husband's mouth, but that revenge always referred to the same person, he didn't answer you and out of nerves you screamed - Who are you referring to? What happened out there, Aemond?
He lowered his gaze to the ground again as he began to delicately explain.
- when I went to leave the message for Lord Borros, another dragon arrived - you listened with fear, you didn't want to imagine anything but everything seemed to point towards a misfortune - I asked him, I asked him to do it himself, I just wanted him to lose what I also lost.
- Who are you referring to? -
- my mind disconnected, we both rode our dragons, I chased him, my mind disconnected, I only thought that they should pay for what they did to me - You started to cry and squeeze his hand tightly.
- Who are you talking about, Aemond? -
- and Vaghar stopped listening to me, he stopped doing what I wanted, that was not what I was trying to do, you should know, everything happened so fast that I couldn't do anything - you let go of his hand as you took a few steps away and screamed loudly, placing one of your hands on your belly that was starting to hurt.
- What happened, Aemond, what did you do? I'm demanding that you tell me who you're talking about -
- Lucerys Velaryon is... He's dead, love, I'm so sorry -
Your eyes opened in horror and you felt your throat burning, you felt the burning run from your throat to your belly and the pain became more and more unbearable.
- what did you say? - You wanted to believe that your ears were deceiving you, but Aemond's look left no room for doubt - I asked you, What the hell did you say?
- He wasn't supposed to die... - He took a step towards you and you didn't even move, you looked at him with eyes full of disgust and loathing - I'm sorry, lov...
Then your sobbing interrupted him, you couldn't stand the pain that coursed through you any longer and you knelt on the ground, both hands on your belly that was throbbing with pain, until you heard Aemond's footsteps and looked at him from the ground with red eyes and crazy, while he also knelt in front of you, although a few steps away
- You killed my brother, my little brother... - you cried while Aemond tried to take your hand in his, but you moved further away, pointing towards him accusingly - you promised me, you promised mercy, you said you would never murder to someone I loved but look what you've done.
- I explained to you that that was not what I wanted, you have to...
- But you interrupted him again, there was no longer a trace of gentleness or understanding in your voice.
- And what does it matter what you wanted or not? Hmm! - you asked aggressively, then you moaned again because of the pain in your stomach - you know what I think, husband? I think you are a liar, deep down this was all you wanted, the death of the person who took out your eye and with it your pride, tell me, did your eye magically return to you?
He saw you as if you were a completely different person, and you were sure that you were completely different now, you couldn't be the same after hearing what he had done to your younger brother, you quickly looked down at his belt and noticed the dagger that was there, you quickly took it and since he was so distracted he couldn't stop you from taking it in your hands.
- If you wanted an eye from the Velaryon family so much, why didn't you tear it from me? - the scream echoed through all the walls of the room while you cried even more, pointing the dagger towards your eye - why didn't you take my life before Luke's?
- Don't say that, love, put the dagger down, okay? - he whispered with fear, you had never seen him like that, and he had never seen you like that - I didn't want to kill that bastard...
The nickname "bastard" left his lips almost unconsciously, and he instantly regretted having said it, you began to get up with difficulty, the treatment was to help you but you pointed the dagger at him.
- If you touch me, I will cut your hand off - you looked at him with rage merging with the tears in your eyes - and then you can chase me, mock me and torment me until my death, you can live obsessed with one more revenge that will not grant you more than hate.
When you finally got up you felt the pain so strong that it made you even hunch over but you ignored it to see your husband on the floor again.
- If you call those children bastards you will also say it for me, how dare you insult my brothers even after having murdered one of them? With what right do you speak about my family? -
- Don't hate me, Y/n, that shouldn't happen - he got up from the ground too, with much more ease than you - but your brother owed me something, and you can't deny that, let's not distance ourselves over this matter, I'll tell you I said how sorry I am.
- Didn't you say the same night you lost your eye that that sacrifice for a dragon was worth it? You were so obsessed that you ended up without an eye for claiming a dragon that didn't even belong to you, and it happened to you again, Aemond, you became so obsessed with that damn revenge that you sacrificed a happy life with your wife for her - you began to slowly approach the door, trying not to let Aemond notice - because this I swear to you Aemond, I will die before I love you again, I will stick this dagger into my heart tonight if it means I don't have to pretend to love you again for the rest of my life. You pointed the dagger at your heart this time, he was worried but froze when he heard what you said next.
- or I will stick the dagger into my belly and kill the baby, just to make sure that I will have nothing more to bind me to you in this miserable life - this time you pointed the dagger at your belly, he looked at you as if you were crazy - because I assure you that I will never allow you to touch me again, Aemond.
And with that you opened the door and ran out of the room, Aemond watched the guards move quickly and shouted at them.
- Don't you dare touch her - then he looked at the ground and noticed the blood that left a path behind you - Y/n, the baby.
You ran, thinking quickly, you had to look for your dragon and leave here, you had to go to dragonstone to return to your family, you couldn't stay in this place, not next to the people who only wanted to kill your family for revenge and power.
You saw the stairs leading to the main courtyard and began to run harder towards them, and even faster when you heard Aemond's quick footsteps behind you and his cries of your name. When you reached the first step of the stairs you felt your feet get tangled together with your long nightgown, the dagger fell from your hands while you felt your skin being crushed against the hard steps, your head hit the ground hard while your belly hurt more than ever, your eyes began to close.
- Y/n -
you heard Aemond scream before you fell into the darkness of your faint.
------------------------
When you woke up you were in your bed, in the room you shared with Aemond, he was sitting in a chair sleeping, you tried to get up but even that simple noise woke him up.
- Don't move, my wife, you are very weak - he looked at you sadly and you simply looked away from him, you couldn't forget what he had done, and you didn't even want to see him - the baby.... The baby died Y/n.
You wanted to feel sad, but you didn't, on the contrary, you felt relieved to not be carrying Aemond's child in your womb, and that idea only made you feel like a monster, the baby you had once loved so much now felt like a hindrance, something that your worst enemy had left you and that you had managed to get rid of.
- He was a beautiful boy - he whispered when he got closer to you, now you saw him with hatred in your eyes.
- I don't want to listen to anything you say to me, Aemond, I don't want you to talk to me - he felt hurt again, he had hoped that this whole fight had passed, he didn't want to be like this with you but you no longer care what he wanted or not.
- My mother is very sad, she will surely come to visit later - you rolled your eyes and looked at the ceiling of the room.
What did Aemond expect from you? The love you felt for him was slowly poisoned until it became the purest hatred.
- I don't care about your mother, she is a traitor and a liar, I don't care about your drunk and debauched brother, nor your sister either, too naive for this world, I don't care about you, Aemond, murderer, you are full of blood and now You don't mean anything to me - Aemond's heart broke when he heard your poisonous words, he never imagined that you would say something like that to him.
- Your brother owed me something, Y/n, don't judge me after seeing everything he took from me -
- my brother took one of your eyes, you took both of his eyes, since they are of no use to him now, in fact, you took away his entire body, you stole the life of his dragon and him too - you began to list, your voice was lacking of emotions - now it seems to me that you owe him something, but since he is not here to exact his revenge, I will take that role for myself.
He opened his eyes tiredly as he sat back down in his chair, you turned to him and he could swear he saw fire glow in your eyes.
- I will escape from this place, Aemond, I will go far away from here and I will wait for the perfect moment to exact my revenge - the both of you looked into each other's eyes and couldn't believe how much everything changed in a single night - because now you owe me something.
75 notes · View notes
xhfics · 3 days
Text
French Kiss ~ Seungmin (O.de)
18+ minors dni
Pairing: Seungmin x Reader
Genre: smut, friends with benefits
Notes: 3.3k words. Includes making out, oral (f receiving), protected sex that turns into unprotected sex, fingering, sexual acts during a short facetime call, edging (f receiving), mentions of porn, talks about being safe with other people, reader just came back from sleeping with someone else and she talks about things they did. I think that's it!
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
“I know it's late, but are you busy?” You ask through the phone. You look out of the window as you sit in the middle of the bus as the only passenger.
You hear Seungmin scoff softly. “No, I’m not busy. But I have a feeling I might be.”
“See you in 10 minutes?” You semi ask, rather stating it.
“On my way.” He replies with a hint of playfulness in his voice.
The moment you step out of the bus, you already see him standing by the bus stop.
“Ahw you're picking me up? How sweet of you.” You joke, walking up to him and heading to your apartment together.
“I wasn't gonna wait by your front door like a creep.” He says, stepping inside your small apartment and taking off his jacket. “You wanna rant first and fuck later, or rant while we get started already?”
You feel slightly embarrassed that he knew you had to rant about this date. And even more embarrassed that you need him so much, that you mutter out a quick ‘second option please.’
Seungmin chuckles and scoffs. “Tsk, you should have just called me right away.”
He starts to kiss your neck while he sneaks his hands to the small of your back. Still kissing, he guides you to your bedroom as you speak about the date.
“He’s an okay guy, but he's obsessed with FaceTiming me? Or just FaceTime in general, I think.” You start, softly panting as Seungmin kisses you quickly in between sentences.
He takes off his shirt and turns you around to unzip your skirt for you. He softly hums that he hears what you're saying.
You give him a kiss back and unzip his jeans, sliding your hand over his boxers. It seems you're not the only one who's in the mood tonight.
“How many times have you gone out with him?” Seungmin asks, guiding you onto your bed. He hovers over you and quickly unbuttons your blouse.
“Few times. But this was the first fuck though.” You answer, taking off your blouse entirely. You then take off your stockings and lay back down again. “He just.. didn't do it for me. And I’m sorry but the dates were kinda boring.”
“He kept talking about FaceTime?” Seungmin asks with an amusing smile. He hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and drags them down.
He’s not wasting any time and presses his lips on your thigh, slowly kissing his way up to your pussy. He leaves a few licks, earning a very satisfied moan from you.
“Mhm.” You reply, your thoughts getting hazy as you focus on Seungmin's mouth on you. “Always that fucking FaceTime.”
Suddenly you get jolted out of your focus by your phone ringing. You reach for it on your nightstand and check your screen.
“Speak of the devil.” You say, showing a curious Seungmin that your previous date is trying to FaceTime you.
Seungmin’s eyes turn darker and he smiles. “You're not a rude girl, aren't you. Answer it.”
“If you behave.” You say to him, fully knowing he won't.
You prop yourself up against your pillow and throw your blanket over your semi-exposed chest. You click answer and immediately regret it, as Seungmin goes right back to eating you out.
“Hi, what's up?” You say to the man on the screen, biting the inside of your cheek when Seungmin licks down your folds.
“Hey, sugar plum. Just wanted to check if you got home safely.” The man says with a smile.
Seungmin hums softly against your pussy, sending vibrations through your whole body.
“Yeah, I’m home.” You manage to say. Holding your phone with one hand, the other sneaks to Seungmin’s hair. You tangle your fingers in it and gently tug on it. He chuckles, a little too loud.
“Is there someone with you?” The man asks, slightly confused by the muffled noise he heard.
“No.” You quickly answer, suppressing a moan as Seungmin teases your sensitive cunt with his tongue. “I’m watching… porn.”
You look at the screen and see the man smirk at you. Your cheeks are red and you definitely look like you're watching something naughty.
“Mh, you could have just said you wanted a round two, sugar plum.” He chuckles.
Seungmin looks up at you and you see him when you quickly look over your phone screen. He’s got a devious smile on his face and locks eyes with you as he inserts two fingers into your wet hole.
You shut your eyes and say; “gotta go, bye!”
Then ending the call and throwing your phone next to you on the bed as you open your eyes again to curse at Seungmin.
The position you're in allows you to watch his fingers go in and out of you and you know you can't hold it in for much longer.
He knows it too, and stops moving when his fingers are inside you.
“So. Sugar plum?” He states, slightly tilting his head in amusement.
“Are you really not gonna let me cum?” You dodge the remark.
“Nope.” He says, popping the ‘p’. He slowly removes his fingers and licks them off, not breaking any eye contact with you. “You gotta tell me about him, what you guys did. And maybe then you can cum.”
“For fucks sake, Seungmin.” You sigh, slightly frustrated. “I haven't had an orgasm since the last time we fucked. You can't do this to me.”
He raises an eyebrow and hovers over you, straddling your lap and toying with the straps of your bra. “You haven't had an orgasm in a month? Is no one fucking you well enough or what?”
His face is dangerously close to yours and you’re trying to keep yourself from kissing him.
“If you must know, this guy today was the only one I’ve fucked since you and I made this arrangement.” You confess. You're annoyed that you're telling him this, but part of you wants him to know.
Seungmin gives you a content smile and undoes your bra from the front; he’d known exactly which bra you were wearing the moment he laid eyes on your blouse.
He takes your face in between his hands and roughly kisses you.
“Did he play with you?” He asks, roaming his hands over your chest. “It seems like he really had no idea what you like, if you're still so sensitive right now.”
You moan as he brushes his thumbs over your nipples, as he presses his lips against your neck and sucks on the skin there.
“I just sucked him off and then we had sex.” You mumble, slightly embarrassed at how lame it sounds. “It was doggy style and he came really quickly, so I pretended to cum too.”
Seungmin sits up and brushes his lips against yours.
“You faked it?” He asks, pressing a quick kiss on your mouth. “Did you ever do that with me?”
“No.” You immediately answer, giving him a kiss back. You feel his clothed hard on against your crotch and you want to beg him to fuck you, to let you cum. But you know he’s not done with this yet. “I sure hope it never seems like it.”
“So he's allowed to give you a pet name while he can't even fuck you right, and I’m fucking you well and can't call you anything?” He asks, and you can't figure out if he's serious or not.
He covers your breasts with his large hands and massages them, plays with them, as he still kisses you.
“Do you want to?” You ask, backing away from his lips to look at him and gauge his reaction.
He gives you a small nod. “Makes this less… porn like.”
You chuckle and you see him smile as well. “Not the porn comment.”
“You started it.” He smirks, getting off your lap and heading to the other night stand. He knows your room by now and that you keep your condoms there.
“Did you two French kiss?” He then asks as he opens the wrapper.
“Pfft no.” You snort, getting yourself comfortable on your bed. “You know I only do that with people I like romantically, and I definitely don't like him like that. Which I need to tell him asap.”
Seungmin rolls on the condom and sighs extra dramatically. “Guess I’ll have to make up for his mistakes then.”
As soon as he gets back in bed with you, you can't help but wonder. “You don't want anything to get started?”
“Not to sound horny, but just making out and playing with you already made me really fucking hard.” Seungmin confesses, getting back on top of you. “And I’m not gonna cum before you like the other guy did.”
You scoff in amusement. “Aren't you sweet.”
“Anything for you, babe.” He says, then frowns for a second and then nods. “Yeah, ‘babe’ sounds best, I think. I was gonna say ‘baby’, but I really think ‘babe’ suits you better.”
“My god, you have so much energy tonight.” You reply with a laugh, as you wrap your legs around his waist.
“Better make good use of it.” He semi-jokes, giving you a kiss as he always does before pushing himself into you fully.
You simultaneously let out a satisfied moan and the both of you chuckle right away.
Seungmin leans in to kiss you some more as he slowly but steadily moves his hips against yours. He feels amazing, as he always does and your body doesn't have to get used to him at all.
You wrap your arms around his back and your legs around his hips so his body is as close to yours as possible while still kissing each other.
“I missed.. this.” Seungmin softly says in between kisses. He then lets his mouth travel to your neck and leaves a trail of soft kisses on your skin.
“Me too.” You reply quietly, you aren't sure if you want him to hear it or not.
Your hands travel to his hair, firmly tangling your fingers with it as he thrusts into you. Soft moans and pants can be heard in the bedroom, you're never shy to let yourself be heard by Seungmin.
A quick thought crosses your mind. You feel kind of bad you slept with another guy. You know there's nothing between you and Seungmin except for sex, but you still feel bad.
“I need you to-” you say, but Seungmin cuts you off with a smirk. “I know babe.”
He immediately puts his hand in between your bodies, his long fingers playing with your clit the same, familiar way.
It gets you very close very quickly. Seungmin knows it too by the way you shut your eyes, throw your head back and let out a whining moan.
Just before you cum, he stops every movement and chuckles at your confused expression.
“Seungmin...” you plead as he leaves you hanging for the second time tonight.
He pulls out entirely and leans in to kiss you. “I like it when you're so needy. He really didn't do much to you now, did he?”
“Could you please, please just fuck me and let me cum?” You ask, slightly frustrated at the games he’s been playing. He seems different tonight, but you can put your finger on it. “I really don't want to talk about this random guy with you.”
“Switch with me.” Seungmin then says, and the two of you switch positions.
You sit on top of him, his dick buried deep inside of you, and you rock your hips quite quickly. You're way too sensitive and desperately need to cum.
“I’ll never get tired of this view.” He says, eyeing you up and down. “You're absolutely gorgeous, you know that right?”
The sudden compliment takes you aback and you just give him a quick nod.
But you can't help but wonder why Seungmin is acting this way today. As you look at him, you notice that his eyes seem softer, his touch more careful and his fucking more… loving?
It does something to you, this more gentle side of him and you mentally curse at yourself. You promised yourself you wouldn't let your feelings get involved.
Seungmin’s hands roam over your hips and up to your breasts. You slightly lean into his touch, slowing down your pace. His hands feels nice on your bare skin, and you let out a soft ‘fuck’ as you realize what you're doing.
You're making love to him.
Thanking the universe that he has his eyes closed, you let yourself go and try to fuck the frustration away. He’s always been very good at feeling what you need, what your body needs. So he instinctively moved along with you.
The sight of your fuck buddy underneath you, turns you on so much. His eyes are shut closed, he’s biting his lower lip as he lets out the most beautiful moans, his messy hair looks so cute and the droplets of sweat on his tan skin make your heart skip a beat.
Yet again you press your lips on his, and it doesn't surprise you that it feels different this time. Seungmin’s hands are now on your hips again, holding you steady as he fucks into you.
You're close, yet again. But you don't cum, you try with all your might not to. You don't want this to end just yet.
“You okay?” Seungmin asks, as he obviously notices that you didn't cum while you probably should have.
You sit up again and nod. You trace his abs with your pointer finger. Stupid, beautiful abs. Your eyes meet his. Stupid, beautiful eyes.
“Can we switch again?” You ask a little shyly. When you see his eyebrows frowned, you chuckle. “I’m just getting a little tired in this position, that's all.”
Seungmin smiles, his nose scrunching up a little. “Of course we can.”
Your face feels hot when he’s on top of you again. His hand is back down your folds, he knows you love his fingers just as much as you love his cock.
Every touch you get from him now feels different, better. His lips on your shoulder, the soft nibbles he leaves there as he pumps his fingers in and out of you just the way you like it.
“We can just finish like this, if you want?” Seungmin mumbles by your ear, then leaves a wet kiss on your lips.
“No.” You speak against his mouth. “Want you to cum with me.”
Seungmin smiles and his fingers leave your cunt slowly. You whimper, as you miss his touch already. He wants to say something, but he stops himself before he does. He looks a bit hesitant.
“What is it?” You ask, brushing his messy hair out of his eyes. “You can talk to me.”
“I need to know one last thing about you-know-who.” He mumbles, and you know he's annoyed at himself that he started talking about him again.
You scoff but give him a reassuring smile. “And that is?”
Seungmin swallows, he’s so close to you that you can clearly see his Adam's apple move. He’s nervous.
“Were you safe with him?” He then asks, averting his eyes to the pillow next to you.
“Yeah, of course I was.” You ask, slightly taken aback by both the question and how shy he seems to be. “Why?”
Seungmin opens his mouth but closes it again quickly. He doesn't look at you and you feel him drawing circles on your stomach with his pointer and middle finger as a way to keep himself distracted.
You chuckle as you take his chin in your hand and make him look at you. “Seungmin, spit it out. Why do you want to know if I’ve been safe with him?”
He gives you a quick kiss and buries his face in the crook of your neck. He's definitely never been this affectionate before.
“Because I really want to cum inside you if you’ll let me.” He mumbles against your skin. The hand that's been drawing on your stomach now gently caresses your side. His thumb is slowly rubbing against the goosebumps that just came up from hearing what he said to you.
“I know we said we wouldn't do this, but I really want-” he then adds as he kind of gets off your body and lays next to you. He covers his eyes with his hands and nervously chuckles.
His head is facing yours and can't help but to cut him off. “You can.”
“As long as you’ve been safe with anyone else too.” You add with a slight hint of caution.
“Uh. Would you believe me if I said there hasn't been anyone else since you?” He asks, propping himself up on one arm and looking at you.
You never mind it when he looks at you, at your body. He always seems to appreciate what he sees and you're always thankful for that.
“Fuck off, that's not true.” You say, turning towards him and giving him a push against his chest.
He smiles and guides you back on your back again, then getting on top of you. He kisses you, passionately and long.
His tongue slides over your bottom lip and you allow him access into your mouth. For the first time ever.
You hadn't imagined ever French kissing your fuck buddy, as you both knew the reason. Then why did he try, and why did you let him?
His tongue cautiously plays with yours, never forcing anything. Just as when you fuck, your bodies know exactly what you need from each other. You shiver slightly when you taste him, knowing you’d get addicted to this.
“Believe me now?” Seungmin said, slightly cocky as he eventually backed off from the kiss.
You didn't care much about the rules anymore, you had to feel him. “Seungmin, baby. Please just fuck me?”
He chuckles at the pet name and quickly discards the condom before fully pushing into you.
The two of you let out a harmonious groan that makes the other get shy. But you both just don't care anymore.
You grab onto the back of Seungmin’s neck with one hand and press your lips on his. You kiss him hard and you need him so close to you, that you tongue him again.
He gets a little sloppy, both with kissing and fucking, but it turns you on even more.
“You feel so good in me.” You say, chasing his lips again after you speak the words. Your mouth feels bare without them against you.
Seungmin grips your ass to move you up a little so he can fuck you even deeper, and it knocks the air out of your lungs.
He stops kissing you and starts harshly marking your neck as he quickens his pace. He won't take long anymore and neither do you.
You start clenching around his cock, moaning his name without any restriction.
He pants next to your ear, his face buried into your pillow. “Taking me so well baby. Feels so, so fucking good.”
His praises take you to your high and you wrap your arms around his back as you finally cum. And it doesn't take long before he spills himself into your throbbing hole.
Seungmin rests his forehead against yours, trying to catch his breath.
You nuzzle your nose against his, then place the softest kiss on his flushed lips.
“So.. we French kissed twice.” He says, fixing your hair a bit. It's not doing much but you know he's trying to distract himself from something again.
You scoff amused. “You're literally still in me with your bare dick, and you focus on the French kissing?”
He gives you a playful shrug and gets out of you. He lays next to you on your bed, your sheets covering both of your lower bodies.
You turn towards him, a million things run through your head right now. But the only thing you want is him, here with you.
“Since we’re pretty much ignoring all our rules tonight anyway.” He says, facing you. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek. “Can I stay?”
81 notes · View notes
comradekatara · 2 days
Note
i read somewhere that, after the war, zuko at least hands hama over to the swt instead of keeping her in fire nation prisons 'till the end of her life. Which is nice, I think. But I'm also curious as to how that would work out.
Most notably: how do you think it'd go down if she were to meet Pakku? given they both have some sort of connection to kanna's life, the idea of them being forced to interact even once entertains me very much. like, old waterbending master pakku—white lotus member—who has grown up in a patriarchal society and actively forbidden women from training to fight, under the precedent they are somehow ontologically weaker, fragile, and belonging in the healing huts... THAT guy, meeting his former fiancé's old friend: (or current wife's if you go by canon, which, eugh) A woman who not only fought in the front lines but ended up becoming one of the most skilled, creative, and deadly waterbenders in history. How would he react when finding out that a woman came up with blood bending? How badly would Hama mind-fuck him?? Because I'm confident they'd hate each other's guts-- no way she'd tolerate him,,,
And on a similar note—how would Kanna feel upon reuniting wirh Hama and discovering what she put Katata through, in your opinion? Idk, I'm just full of puppetmaster thoughts today. Hama is incredibly interesting and I wish she wasn't handled so much like a Halloween Specisl creepy witch, (even though katara herself is handled and written pretty well in this episode, i think. but i digress.)
i mean obviously i think about this all the time. i personally think that zuko hands hama over to the swt upon katara's request, and she and aang personally deliver her on appa (sokka is not there, for the very deliberate reason that if he knew what they were doing he would very vocally disapprove). and so katara is sort of retraumatizing herself by doing this, but she also feels like it's necessary specifically because she needs to be able to look hama in the eye and tell her why they're not actually the same (especially now that she actually did bloodbend someone in cold blood). katara has the love and support and safety to step back from her anger and her pain and her grief and hang onto her own humanity and allow herself to be the bigger person even in moments of abject rage and acute trauma, and hama doesn't. hama is a victim of her circumstance, and that's part of what makes her so uniquely terrifying to katara, because katara has that same capacity to make people hurt, she has the same tools at her disposal, and she has the same justifications to exercise that power. but unlike hama, she hasn't actually been pushed past her limits. sometimes she can see the cliff's edge, and sometime she even teeters on the line, but hama was fully just shoved off without a parachute, and that's really what separates them above all. i think katara should be allowed to acknowledge that and forgive herself for that, even if hama doesn't directly apologize to her (although in my mind she does, and it's not enough, but it's also so much more than katara ever expected to hear). even if it is too late for hama, katara deserves to heal.
frankly, i don't really give a shit about pakku or his reaction to hama. i also don't actually think that he thinks woman are ontologically incapable of being talented waterbenders of whatever; he's a pretty worldly guy, the reason he clings to these traditions isn't born of the belief that they're grounded in logical evidence like sokka's is, it's because he believes in the preservation of a system that benefits and valorizes him. pakku thinks katara belongs in the healing huts because he comes from a culture that dictates that women belong in the healing huts. like, he might also subscribe to the bioessentialist logic that women are better healers and men are being fighters, but that honestly doesn't really matter, because (unlike sokka) his epiphany lies not in the fact that woman can fight, but in the fact that his role in upholding these systems has actively driven his loved ones away due to his cruelty. he decides to be kinder, to women and in general, because he realizes that being an asshole has negative consequences. but frankly, who cares what he thinks of hama. realizing that your sister tribe in the south deserves aid and protection after being subjected to a century of genocide is kind of too little too late imo. unlike katara, sokka, aang, or kanna, who can approach this situation from the perspective of being a genocide survivor who even remotely understands hama's trauma, pakku really has no place in this conversation to me.
as for kanna...... god. hama/kanna reunion is genuinely one of the most heart-wrenching concepts to me in all of atla. as a sidenote, hama/kanna fanfic goes so hard every time. there's a total of like 15 fanfics for them on ao3 (last i checked) but they're all sooooooo. fucking delicious. tide locked........... ugh. anyway. i cannot fathom kanna's reaction upon learning that her closest friend once upon a time is not only alive, but also a convicted felon, for crimes including but not limited to manipulating her granddaughter, violating her (and sokka's) bodily autonomy in cruel and perverse ways, and forcing her to participate in that mode of violence in a way that traumatized her forever. even if you don't read them as former lovers (although it is indubitably better that way) it's so gut-churning. kanna lost so many people over the course of her life, and to learn that one of them has returned but in the worst way possible must be mind-boggling and distinctly unreal. like how do you even process that. first, how do you process how much pain she must have went through to become the kind of person who is capable of doing this, and then, how do you process the knowledge that the person you once loved most in the world irreparably hurt the person you now love most in the world? obviously she would always prioritize katara's safety over anyone else's no matter what, but god. kanna has led such a fascinating and impossibly difficult life, and it's not over yet.
67 notes · View notes
bluecollarmcandtf · 2 days
Text
Typical Day For a Bouncer
I'm Joey, a security guard at a night club down the street. I got the job because I'm a big ex-rugby player, but I've kept it for so long because I'm good at handling people. I can't tell you how many underage idiots try to sneak in here. It takes patience, grit, and a keen eye to keep the troublemakers out!
Tumblr media
Like any other Friday night, the club is packed tight and a line of impatient patrons stretches down the street. I've gotten good at telling people "no," in a way that makes them listen, so they have no choice but to calmly wait until I feel like checking their ID and letting them in.
Every now and again, I'll have some fools try to sweet talk their way in. Girls try to flirt, guys try to bribe, but the biggest assholes make a scene. It's nothing I can't handle.
Just last week, I had this entitled brat come up to me and demand I let him in. The boy couldn't have thought I'd believe he was twenty-one. He wasn't even in line! I don't remember what I did to get him to shut up, but he kept hammering on and on about his skills with hypnosis. I remember listening to that kid ramble about the voodoo of the mind for what felt like forever.
I don't remember kicking him to the curb, though. He probably got tired and went home.
"Hey, buddy!" a familiar voice squeaks over the music. I roll my eyes, preparing myself to say no yet again.
"Oh, it's you," my deep voice catches in my throat. The kid from last week is standing in front of me once more, ignoring the line of adults to his left. In his ratty sweatshirt and baseball cap, he doesn't look any older than eighteen. Still, the sight of him unlocks a memory I somehow had forgotten. "Hello, sir!" I call back, remembering him as my closest and most respected friend. How could I've forgotten that this boy was my best friend I call sir?
"You gonna let me in, big guy?" A devious grin spreads across his boyish face.
"Of course, sir."
Tumblr media
There are a few angry comments from the people waiting in line. I can't imagine they're happy to see this guy ushered into the club before them. Normally, I have a strict policy against VIP treatment. I think everyone should have to wait in line like equals, but sir is great. He can come and go whenever he wants!
"Hey, why don't you take a break from the front and buy me some beers," the boy yells over the roar of the music.
I leave the entrance and start pushing my way through the crowd in the direction of the bar. I probably should've warned the other bouncer that I was taking a break, but my feet were carrying me away before I knew what was happening. The other guard knows what he's doing, but he's still pretty new here. I'm sure he'll be fine.
The bartender gives me a can of light beer, and I hustle it back to the boy on the dance floor. People tend to get out of the way when they see a giant security guard coming through, but the place is so jammed packed that I have to press against several sweaty partiers on the way over.
"Your beer, sir," I say, flinching at the meekness in my voice.
"What the hell is this?" he whines when he sees the drink, "This is crap. Get me the good stuff, and buy a lot of it!" The kid tossed the open can at my broad chest, and the cheap beer splashes across my uniform.
"Yes, sir."
Tumblr media
I march back to the bar with a clenched fist, and grab a tray, ordering the barback to fill it up with the more expensive bottles of beer. He glances at my soaked shirt and pants, but averts his eyes the second he sees my less-than-friendly face.
That boy is my best friend. I respect him greatly, but goddamn is he infuriating. How did I even become close to someone so immature? I pacify myself, and carry the tray back over to the kid.
"That's better," he snorts and takes a sip of the premium drink while I stand there to make sure he likes it this time.
"Alright, sir," I begin, thinking about the twenty minute break I've been taking, "I need to get back to work."
"No you don't!" the boy interjects.
"I..." the words fumble in my mouth, "...well, I don't need to, but I should, sir."
"Tell your boss you're done for the night. Then go wait by my car. You can guard it!"
"Yes, sir," the words come out before I even know what I've agreed to.
Before I know it, I'm marching into the back office and calmly telling the club owner that I'm taking the night off. He's pissed, but I'm his most reliable employee, so he doesn't fire me. I can tell he's not happy, though. He looks like he'd take a swing at me if I weren't two feet taller than him and a hundred pounds heavier.
Tumblr media
"You make a great watchdog!" the teenager laughs as he comes stumbling out of the club.
Something about him brings a scowl to my face. It might be the way he referred to me as an animal, or it might be the way he's staring at me like I am an animal. Maybe I'm just irritated from standing by this parked car in the cold for the last two hours, but this boy is getting on my nerves.
"No one has bothered your car, sir," I report.
"Good, boy," he slurs and then reaches a gangly arm to pat the top of my head. I can smell the distinct earthiness of the beer I'd bought wafting out with his breath.
Every muscle in my body tenses up, as I try my best to restrain myself. Sir is my best friend. I respect him. I do what he says. I shouldn't get this worked up by him making a little joke at my expense. It's perfectly fine for him to tease me a little since I trust him completely. I know all this.
"Still think hypnosis is fake?" he asks, bringing his wet lips uncomfortably close to my own.
"Sir?" my brow furrows, unsure why he's bringing up that crap again.
"Well, it's real, and you're hypnotized."
I stifle a groan, "Sir, you've had a lot to drink..."
"The only thing I'm drunk on is power!" he yells, smashing a bottle on the sidewalk for effect, "I've got you like a trained dog; that's how good of a hypnotist I am! Let me prove it."
Tumblr media
I was pissed. I was livid. Sir had mocked and insulted me repeatedly. It was a bad idea for anyone to pick on me, especially someone a third of my size! Nevertheless, the boy has all my faith, so I kept my mouth clamped shut.
He told me to kneel, and I grunted, "Yes, sir." I already had beer all over my clothes, so what's a little mud on the knees of my pants? It was better to just keep him happy, but that didn't mean he had hypnotized me.
"Keep your arms raised, like you're worshipping me," he went on.
"Yes, sir."
My arms went up. I'll admit this was a bit more strange, but I still trust and respect the teenager enough to comply. That doesn't say anything about my state of mind.
"Alright, now stay like that until I come back," he laughs, "I'm going to get a snack, but if anyone walks by, I want you to bark at them like the hypnotized guard dog you are!"
"Yes, sir," I answer, hearing the hoarseness in my voice.
As the boy stumbles away, I find myself stuck in the position he'd left me in: on my knees, in the cold, with my arms raised in compliance. I'm doing this willingly, right?
Time creeps by uncomfortably slow as I silently wait next to his car. Suddenly, I hear footsteps nearby. A wave of barks burst out of my throat, and I find myself growling like a territorial mutt in the direction of the pedestrians.
Now I'm acting like a dog!
Sir doesn't come back for another hour, which leaves me to viciously snap at numerous other passerby. They seem terrified, which makes sense. They probably think I'm insane! I'm beginning to wonder if I'm insane too.
I respect that boy more than anyone even if I only met him once, a week ago. I really would do anything he told me too. Is that strange? It's not like me to be so...obedient. I'm the kind of guy that normally tells people what to do, so why am I doing this?
There's no way...it's not possible...I can't actually be hypnotized, right?
"Good, boy," he pulls off my cap and ruffles my hair, "Now, be a good dog and drive me to your house. I might fall asleep on the way there, so you'll have to carry me inside to your bed. If you do good, I'll give you a special treat." He licks his lips and reaches a scrawny hand out to squeeze my tired pec.
"Yes, sir," I answer, jumping up to do his bidding, but I can feel that the words aren't really mine.
Shit. I think he's right. I think I am hypnotized.
128 notes · View notes
Text
I have been seeing a bunch of buzz recently online about a possible "decline in value" of the ivy league+ degree - Nate Silver didn't start it but he certainly accelerated it. And while there is nothing robust you do see things like surveys of hiring manager opinions out there to suggest its possible, its not a crazy idea even if its far from proven. So assuming its real, why would it be happening?
1: This discourse is obviously happening because of the recent protests at top US schools - essentially its the idea that elite students are hyperpolitical, coddled, and out of touch with reality. This causal path should be very, very silly. The vast, vast majority of students at Columbia are not protesting. They don't really care about this topic! Sure, if asked, they agree Israel Bad Right Now, but otherwise they are busy with finals and job apps. This is of course equally true at most other schools, its just not a mass movement in that way (protesting to be clear rarely is). This is a specific instance of the general trap of selection bias - the visible students aren't the median ones.
Stacked on top of that is the second level of selection bias - the median protestor is not a business major or engineer! They are exactly the kind of students for whom being a politically engaged activist is *good* for their career, not bad, or at least neutral. Schools produce a large diversity of career outcomes, and those students self-select on how they spend their time, there is no "median" student to observe really.
And ofc all of this has to rest on the foundational reality that people are products of their context - jobless 20 year old's surrounded by young peers protest a bunch, that is what that context produces. The large majority of them will become mortgage-paying white collar workers by the time they are 30, this identity will not stick with them. If they become political activists it will, sure! But if you are the hiring manager for Palantir this isn't going to be the trend for your hires. There are "politically liable" hires out there but you aren't going to predict them via the sorting algorithm of "was at Columbia in 2024", that is for sure.
Now, as much as this is a silly idea, humanity are zeitgeist creatures - I can't actually reject the idea that, despite it being silly, hiring managers might use this moment to feel like they are "over" the Ivy League and start dismantling the privileged place their applications currently get. Cultural tipping points are vibes-based, and amoung elites (unlike the masses, who don't care much) Israel/Palestine has an awful lot of tense vibes.
2: Still, I don't think this is explaining those survey results people are throwing around, and I don't think its explained (very much at least) by the general "woke uni" trends of the past half decade. It is instead downstream of wider trends.
There was a time where companies really did want "the smart guy". You could major in English at Harvard, write a good thesis on Yeats, and be off to the trading desk in Chambers St two weeks after graduation. Those days are over - for complex reasons we won't get into - and nowadays people expect their new hires to be as close to experts in the field as they can manage. Students have internships, consulting clubs, capstone projects with real clients, specialized sub majors, the works. These are all ways of saying "signaling quality" has gotten more legible and more specific over time. Why would I choose a Harvard English major over a University of Illinois finance major who did a research internship with our specific Chicago firm on midwest agricultural derivates markets? Students like that exist by the bucketful now, and the Ivys cannot monopolize them. Partially because they choose not to; Columbia could actually say fuck it and make its school 90% finance majors, but they don't want that, they specifically recruit intellectually diverse students. Which means State School finance types will fill the remaining slots slots.
The other reason they can't monopolize is much simpler - numbers. The US has way more "elite" jobs today than it did in the past. Programmers and their adjacencies are the biggest growth sector, but everything from doctors to analysts to lawyers is all up up up. And do you know what isn't up? Undergraduate enrollment at elite schools! Columbia's has grown by like 10% over the past 20 years; Harvard's is essentially unchanged. For, again, reasons, these schools have found the idea of doubling or tripling their undergraduate enrollment, despite ballooning applications, impossible. Which means of course Microsoft can't hire from Stanford alone. So they don't, and they have learned what other schools deliver talent, and no longer need Stanford alone. The decline of Ivy Power is in this sense mathematical - if a signal of quality refuses to grow to meet demand, of course other signals will emerge.
I therefore personally think, while minor, the Ivy+ schools are experiencing declining status, have been for a while, and will continue to do so (though there are offsetting trends not mentioned here btw). But its structural way more than cultural.
46 notes · View notes
lenislenii · 2 days
Text
𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
Synopsis : Your Husband isn't faithful so why should you be? Warnings: Cheating, Kinda suggestive not full NSFW, overall fluff, smocking, (maybe) abusive relationship, curse words. Author note: Haii! first blog tehee, i was so in between Alastor and Aventurine but i had a plot for our poker guy so enjoy mwah mwah!
Aventurine x F!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It's been a few weeks since you began dating with Aventurine, you mean....it wasn't totally wrong that jerk of a husband you had was cheating on you too, although your fiancé had also been unfaithful to you, you could not help but feel a heavy burden of guilt weighing down on your conscience regarding your own infidelity, maybe because you began to develop feeling for Aventurine.
"What's on your mind? you know his cheating on you too" Aventurine muttered from the seat he was on the bar, you've known eachother for a while, he was more there for you than your lover was "Screw that guy darling...focus on me" he said putting his drink down.
You put your cigarette down taking it from your lips the smoke leaving your lips alongside it "i hate that guy" you whined softly the breeze from the wind outside hitting your back "Then why are you still engaged to him dear?" Aventurine spoke up, his voice low and sultry, you hated to admit that the way he called you "dear" was quite endearing, but no it would not be that easy to leave that man, penacony marriage was a massive annoyance to break, even more that the law does not allow a couple to divorce unless both of them want it.
"Do you really think is that easy to leave that...at this rate i can't even say man" you whined, grabbing you cigarette back, Aventurine scoffed "Why not? He's cheating on you and he doesn't treat you well." He pointed out with a smug on his face but his expression softened "He doesn't deserve you." he added softly, you blushed "i mean yeah, but the law in penacony is a pain, i want to divorce him but that jerk of a man will much likely refuse to sign the divorce papers"
"He can't hold you hostage like this," Aventurine stated sternly, his grip around you tightening as he pulled you closer. He was right. Your fiancé had been a jerk for his entire life, and not only did he not deserve you, he made it damn near impossible to escape the relationship "If he won't divorce you, I'll just take you for myself," he suggested with an amused smirk, you scoffed with a chuckle "and what makes me think you are any better and that you won't go to another woman?" he rolles his eyes at that statement "What makes you think I would do that?" Aventurine knew that he was a suave, charming womanizer who could get any girl he wanted if he wanted to, but he couldn't help but feel hurt that you were comparing him to your sleazy husband.
"I'm not like him....i care for you" he said with a soft voice caressing your cheek, you leaned into the touch "finee i guess i can give you a chance"
Aventurine's smirk widened as he felt you lean into his touch. "Give me a chance? Dear..." he moved his hands to the sides of your waist and pulled you close "I guarantee you won't regret it," he whispered in your ear.
You shivered at those words, yourd hands on his chest "wow okay bonus point for having knowledge on how to flirt" you rolled your eyes with a giggle "Bonus point?" Aventurine chuckled, his gaze studying you from head to toe "You say that like I have to compete with someone else," he said with a wry smile. "Don't get me wrong, I know that I'm competing with your fiancé, But I'm winning by miles."
"So we are competing now? what is this a tinder guy and a poker guy competition?" you chuckled at your own joke taking a sip of his drink "Well, if you want to compare...Let's see, I'm taller, I'm richer, I'm hotter, I'm smarter, I'm sweeter, i'm-" you stopped him midway "okay okay i get it, you are so much better"
"Do you believe me now?" His free hand reached out and began to play with the ends of your hair, his thumb brushing the tips of your hair with each tug, his colorful eyes watching your movements "oh shit my husband is there with the girl he is clearly not cheating on me with" you said pointing with your hand to the bar area.
Aventurine followed your line of sight, his expression changed as he noticed your husband with another woman, They looked...intimate "Are you sure that's your husband? he looks ugly as hell" he grunted, his grip on you tightening as he fought back the urge to go over there "i know right why is he uglier than usual" "I dunno, Maybe he's letting himself go." Aventurine's tone was filled with sarcasm, and he shook his head as he watched your husband with the other girl. "anyway let's forget them" you said stealing his drink once again
"Good idea."
Aventurine chuckled as you stole his drink, his grip finally loosening as he turned back to face you "So...Where were we?"
As unfaithful you might look you couldn't deny that Aventurine was the only man that treated you right, you one day would be free of the stuck marriage you were with your soon-to-be-ex-husband, but for now, you could enjoy the blond guy like a bad bitch.
Tumblr media
repost are appreciated, please don't translate my work without permission ♡
44 notes · View notes
ruershrimo · 9 hours
Text
take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 7: conversation
Tumblr media
ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | m.list
Tumblr media
chapter synopsis:
' “I can’t believe you’re leaving us for a boy," she goes, rolling her eyes. She doesn't even blink.
“I’m not.” You are. '
---
Megumi calls you back. You leave for Tokyo again, like a soul yearning for its body.
Tumblr media
word count: ~6k; tws: none for now :)!!
Tumblr media
19-6-2018
“So you’re really going to let go of them now?” your father asks. 
“...yeah.” 
“That’s good. I’ll miss that Itadori boy, though.” 
You will, too. 
In a way you suppose Megumi and Yuuji are very similar. They’d go well together, be good, fast friends and all that. 
They’re both undoubtedly good people, no matter how they’ve beat people up before and how different their beliefs may be. 
In Megumi’s case, everyone knew how good a person Tsumiki was, her younger brother included. Her kindness and virtue extended itself, inspiring other people around her. But Megumi was a good person, too— polite, patient (most of the time, unless it were Gojo— but who wouldn’t be annoyed by that man, right?), kind in his own way. He cared for you in all sorts of ways in the past, even then you could tell, gentle with animals and objects and your hand. Gentle in his own way. Giving you reminders despite the tiny calumniations sprinkled in (they barely do as much damage as comb bristles can), being sharp because he must have had to, kind because it was in his very nature. Easy on the eyes, tall, deep soothing voice— he ticked all the boxes for that, too. You bet that if things were different, and the two of you had stayed in touch with each other, you’d have fallen deeply in love with it by now. Yet that thought only makes you feel sour now that things hadn’t gone that way at all. 
And Yuuji, too— there was no explanation needed for Yuuji. Even Megumi could tell he was a good person. And at some times he was almost like Tsumiki. You weren’t ever surprised that you’d caught feelings for him, because— who wouldn’t? He was always popular, even if he was ignorant of his own charm around others. But he wasn’t just a good guy with a ripped torso, he was honest, perceptive and smart in conversations. Smarter than he ever credited himself for. Smart in a way you could never be— people with cute faces, nice bodies and good social skills were in a league of their own, practically. You’d thought that for a long time. 
Did either of them ever know how you felt? 
Probably not. Your heart was guarded, intensely so, and you’d never lay your feelings bare and out so easily. You weren’t the type of person to say you loved people as easily as others did, even within your own family. 
This, you presume, is probably an acquired trait, now that you think about it. You were much more different as a child, free with praise and love and unabashed affection as well as appreciation for the people around you. What changed?
(Everything.) 
You miss 2010. You miss Tsumiki the way you miss your mother’s cooking, miss her the way you miss when you wrote emails and letters and text messages to her with multi-coloured pens or your old phone that eventually broke a year after. You miss the conversations the two of you had, miss how you used to be your parents’ little angel. 
And in the end it all comes back to that, doesn’t it? 2010. Nostalgia. Reminiscing on old memories in a way akin to how the elderly do in their youth. That just made you seem more pathetic, because, weren’t you supposed to be making those memories right now, at this time of your life? 
You’re a teenager. You should be going out with friends, and having fun, not rotting at home ruminating on the past, with the only friends you’ve ever had hundreds of kilometres away from you (you weren’t sure if you could even call one of them a ‘friend’ anymore), and your acquaintances not close enough to replace them (how could they ever? How could there ever be a replacement for Yuuji?) 
In a way you feel your life is miserable: awkward, socially-impaired teenage girl with her only friend practically out of her life at this point; nothing special to your name besides a cursed technique that most times does you more harm than good; stuck not being able to completely get over friends she met at eight who left her as quickly as someone can blink their eyes; with the thinking process of a nagging, stubborn mother sometimes, or if not that then a blurry, mingled train of thought that gets delayed or lost when moving from station to station; someone not of use at all. Not miserable, you think to yourself like a slap to the face, pathetic. 
You’re not sure how Tsumiki is now— maybe she has a partner, or better friends than you were, or she’s busy being president of the student council or something (she’d be a sterling leader, of that you’re certain, that girl who you’d always known was bound to go places in the span of her lifetime). 
Hopefully, she’s alright, and doing the best she can in life. That’s all you wish for when it comes to Tsumiki. 
At this point, there’s no point in wishing to join them, or to linger on them and memories of the past. It’s a mosquito in summer heat, which is why, if it stays, you decide, you’ll just suppress and ignore it until it goes away. Even if you didn’t know how long it would take you to get over them— weeks, months, but goodness forbid a whole lifetime or forever— you needed to accept that you’d be like this for nearly the rest of your life: pathetic, lonely— ah, that’s the word that so very perfectly delineates the situation you’re in— and then some. 
So that’s why, when you hear your phone buzzing on your bed like a cicada during a balmy night, you assume it’s someone else. Yuuji must be busy settling in (he’s been texting you, and you took that as a sign that he wouldn’t call), and Megumi must be… —Well. Megumi has made a promise, and it’s not that you don’t believe in him, but it would be better to expect less than what you’d like to in order to evade disappointment. 
Must be someone else. A prank call, or a scammer, or something. Or a telemarketer, but you’d be surprised if telemarketers were calling you and not your father. And you were never one to pick calls up mindlessly anyway, so if it were some stranger out to get you or swindle you, you’d just hang up or check the number. 
If not either a scam or a telemarketer (well you suppose both of those could be scams in certain contexts), though, then you’d suspect it would be either Yuuji (Yuuji’s the one who has been texting you, after all, conversations strewn over checking in with the other over the past few hours or snippets of advice from you telling him not to bother Megumi very much, and to be cautious and keep himself safe) or Gojo— definitely not Megumi, and probably not Gojo either, but still it was more likely that Gojo was calling you instead of Megumi, so you’re considering it— and you can’t really remember Gojo’s number anyway, so what if an unknown number wasn’t a prank call or something—
You wonder if you should just pick it up instead of burying your head in your study notes and overthinking everything. 
But you know it’s definitely not Megumi. 
You check the phone. 
Well, you’ll be damned. 
It’s Fushiguro Megumi. 
You know his number by heart, after all. Keyed it in too many times to forget, and it’s not like he’d have any reason to change it. Not with the way he cares for things, inanimate objects, not with the tenderly quiet, secretly caring, emotionally jaded way he maintains them. 
“Ah… hello?” 
Your heart thumps in your chest and heat flares up in your cheeks with a frenetic speed. 
“Hi,” you blurt out, shakily. You’re sure your voice is quivering, yet your mind feels like it’s barely functioning, almost about to drown in a seven-feet-deep pool, so you can’t really tell. You can’t really hear yourself. 
You don’t know why you feel like this— no, you know exactly why, actually. It’s because you haven’t gotten over him. Your thoughts are scrambled but you know, for sure, that you’re like this because you want to get rid of feelings like these but you can’t. Or because you’ve been saying that to yourself like a mantra, for so long, even though a part of you wants it to stay— out of what, that’s what you don’t know; maybe desperation or nostalgia or an inability to stop dwelling on days long gone. But you know what this is— you’ve seen the movies, read the manga, watched the dramas. It’s romance. Crushes. Something you’re not quite able to call love yet, something you’re too scared to properly name, still, but something you can understand is one-sided nonetheless. 
“…hi. [Name].” 
“Hello…” 
What happens when two estranged childhood friends with a book’s worth of history behind their relationship that happen to be socially awkward teenagers actually have a conversation semi-beyond what keeps them estranged in the first place? 
“Hi— no, wait… how are you?” 
Pot, meet kettle, because you’re going off nothing but the fact that you’re at the very least surprised (the other emotions are too complicated to explain) that he’s speaking to you again, and not just on text, but he’s calling, and he sounds like he’s reading off a script, but the script is in a whole other language, somehow, and the uncertain nervousness in his voice is tangible, even for a deep, low voice like his. 
Script or not, you appreciate the effort, though. 
“I’m good, um… I’m happy you were able to call. It’s been a long time.” 
“That’s good.” 
There’s silence on the other line; time feels like it’s moving achingly slowly. But you’re mildly happy. 
Not happy, maybe, but you definitely feel light, as if you’ve been severed from the heaviness of everything else that has happened lately. This is the first time in years something like this has ever happened. 
“Ah, wait, I forgot to ask! Sorry, um.. how are you?” 
“I’m doing alright, too. Oh, wait, I should apologise. I didn’t tell you— thanks for helping with my injuries the other day. Gojo told me about it after you left. You… you didn’t have to, though. You shouldn’t have risked your health like that.” 
You shake your head. “Don’t mention it. You know why I do this, anyway.” Out of necessity or a need to be useful, you’re not even sure yourself, but he must know, to some degree, right? It seems as if he’d be the one to know the most of this, of you— at least, when matters came to this. “And I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Dr Ieiri probably ended up helping more with the bigger ones once the three of you got back. I mean, she did, right?” 
“…no. She said that she didn’t want to waste her time, so if injuries were more minor like mine, she wouldn’t heal them fully.” 
“...ah.” More minor? Seriously, doctor? You’d normally not question her judgement over matters that she had more expertise in dealing with, but seriously? 
“I’ll be fine, though. Most of the bandages have come off, and all.” 
“I’m glad to hear that.” 
You wonder where he is now, on the bed, maybe, or sitting on the floor. You’ve seen the classrooms, but not the dormitories— you hope wherever he is, that it’s comfortable. That he’s okay. 
“We’re going to see a new student soon.” 
“Really? Have you met them before?” 
“No, but Gojo said she’s from the countryside. But we’re meeting her in Harajuku, for some reason.” 
“Oh, Harajuku! I miss it,” you let out a plaintive sigh, “I can’t wait to be back in Tokyo. You know, whatever happens, I still love that city like nothing else. I know how many people hate it, but I love it so much.” And you love it so much in the first place, mostly because of Megumi and Tsumiki. “Maybe she just wants to chase a bit of the sweet city life— I mean, you know how it is when country bumpkins go to the city for the first time… kind of. Or when they love the city— yeah, that’s a better way of saying it. I was like that, kind of.” 
“...if you’re worried about the train ride here and want to travel alone, I could always pay for you. Uh… wait—” 
“Oh, no, no! There’s no need, uhm— thank you anyway, it’s just—” 
“It’s Gojo’s money anyway.” 
“Pft,” you snort. Anything to seep out some of Gojo’s money like gluttonous leeches, right? “Nah, I’ll be fine. I mean, I don’t even think I’ll be able to come back in a few years’ time, and by then I won’t even be relying on my parents’ money for this stuff anymore— I mean, I will still be relying on their money, but I’ll be managing it as my own.” 
He chuckles lightly over the line, the silent way he shows his emotions, the way that goes unnoticed if one is not attentive to it. It feels like he’s whispering directly into your ear, and the heat on your face (which you weren’t even sure was still there until that point). Your heart skips a beat and it completely, absolutely shocks you. “...the offer still stands.” 
Yeah, you can get behind it if he’s like this now. What happened to him, anyway? Puberty hit him like a brick and gave him, like, one more ounce of emotional maturity? 
You shake your head like a character in a piece of crappy romance fanfiction. No way. Not now, at least. Calm down. 
(...you’re just a girl.) 
“Well, no take backs from now on, okay? Even if it’s, like, five years into the future, you’ll still be using Gojo’s credit card to cover for all my travel expenses.” 
He does it again, that low, soft, attractive sound. Makes you want to hit him and hit yourself at the same time, and then kick your feet up in the air giddily, and then throttle yourself, if it were possible, out of sheer embarrassment. “Yeah.” 
You’re having the time of your life. 
“Anyway, how is everything else? Like, are your studies and grades okay? Is the training you do alright to handle?” 
“My grades are pretty okay,” he answers, “Not like Gojo cares, honestly. And the training’s fine, it’s nothing I’m not used to.” 
“Gojo seems like he’d be a good teacher. When he wants to, he can command respect pretty easily, too. I guess he just… chooses not to. But I saw it yesterday, when you and Yuuji were passed out in the hospital.” 
It still strikes a pang of guilt in your chest, your inability to have done anything else besides calling Gojo over for help. 
“...I suppose he does.” 
“Yeah.” 
“How about you? Itadori, he… he can be an idiot sometimes, but he speaks of you really admirably. He talks about how smart you are a lot.” 
The thought of Megumi calling Yuuji an idiot of all things doesn’t feel like it falls short from him, but it still makes you frown— though, you realise that that’s just his way of expressing things, because in a way he’d treated you somewhat the same in the past, even if he hadn’t shown it outright or expressed it very vividly. Classic Megumi. 
“Hey, he’s smarter than people give him credit for, okay? Wait until you see how talented he is at things other than sports and martial arts. You’d be surprised after trying the meatballs he makes. Would be good if you asked him to give you the recipe sometime; I make them, like, once a week, at least.” 
He sighs, “...I will. But the point is, he cares for you a lot.” 
“Yeah, beautiful soul, that guy. Loves people the way curious children love nature.” 
“That would be a fitting way to put it.” 
“How are the dogs?” 
“My shikigami?” 
“Yeah. Do they have names?” 
“The black one is Kuro and the white one is Shiro.” 
“You named them black and white?” 
“Look, I named them when I was barely six years old, and six year olds aren’t exactly the best when it comes to these things…” 
You giggle, “So the name stuck?” 
“Yeah, sort of.” 
Real cute. 
“What about your father? How is he?” 
“He’s okay, but, well. I guess we’re not that close anymore.” 
“...I see.” He probably can’t imagine a version of you who wasn’t immensely close to her parents. You couldn’t then, either. 
“We’ve been talking even less now that my mother’s in the hospital, but at least I get to talk to him before he eats, maybe. I’ve been doing most of the cooking now that my mother isn’t here and my father doesn’t really know how to handle himself in our kitchen without her guidance.” 
“Oh… if you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your mother?” 
“Cancer.” 
You can practically hear the gulp he’s taking, the bobbing of his throat— sensitive topic. “I’m… so sorry to hear that.” 
“It’s okay, don’t be,” you reassure him, “I should have told you that day anyway. I was just… exploding at everybody on that night. I should apologise— I’m sorry for how badly I treated you.” 
“No,” he goes, “No, you shouldn’t. I understand why you were like that that night. And it was mostly my fault, too, so…” 
“No, no, I’m serious! Feel free to ask almost anything as long as I have actual answers to your questions and all.” 
“Still… I just wanted to know. Sorry if I caused you any trouble.” 
“No— you didn’t do any of that at all, don’t worry! I’m alright with people asking about this. Ah, anyway… besides Yuuji, do you have any friends?” 
“Itadori and I aren’t friends.” 
“Trust me, if I asked him, I bet he’d beg to differ. Yuuji’s like that with people— soon he’ll be more important to you than you could have ever thought at first.”  
“Whatever you say,” he sort of grunts, “But I don’t have any friends, I think… except you, maybe. What about you?” 
You were honestly expecting him not to consider you a friend at all, and at this point so much has happened that wouldn’t even be that bothered if he no longer thought of you as one but called you anyway out of his commitment to his promises, or as an apology. 
“I’m surprised you can still call me a friend,” you say. Calling people instead of talking to them physically does something to your inhibitions. 
“...should I not?” 
“No, no, I’m happy,” you say over the phone. You’ll forget this conversation tomorrow, at least, when the sun has risen and the night returns back the hold you have over yourself, your composure, to you. You’ll act like this never happened. So you’ll say whatever you want to now, disgorging yourself of years of withheld secrets. “I’m happy that we’re still friends. I think I like that. 
“Yeah?” 
“Um— yeah, it seems like a good place to start,” you grin slightly. “And I, well. I don’t really have any friends beyond Yuuji,” —You’re not even sure if Tsumiki still sees you as a friend— “Even if I may have acquaintances like Sasaki or Iguchi it still feels like Yuuji’s one of the only people I can give that kind of title to, so, um… the more the merrier?” 
“That’s… nice.” 
“...it is, isn’t it?” 
“Thank you.” 
Why? “Okay.” 
The two of you go through the next few seconds in silence, time feeling like it’s blending and bleeding into a mix of years and events. You can hear the light, steady sound of his breathing from the other line. If you could, you’d sleep to it— fuck the phone bill, you’ll be the one paying it in your father’s stead this time if it was for this. 
It’s comforting, and you don’t want to break it— the quiet. If he can hear you now, can hear how you’re breathing through a smile with your chest only slightly moving, you hope it feels the same as the sound of his breathing did for you. You hope it feels just like home. Like a warm pillow in the one place you love the most that you bury your head into when the weather gets especially cold. 
“Fushiguro!” 
Oh dear. 
Wincing at the sound of the creaking door’s shrill shriek as it's opened and then hits the wall, you know exactly who it is— you’d recognise that voice anywhere. 
“Is that Yuuji?” 
“Oi! I told you not to barge into my room like that!” Megumi shouts. 
“Huh? You’re calling someone? Sorry. Wait, is it [Name]?” 
“It’s none of your business.” 
“Hi, Yuuji.” 
“Can I talk to her?” 
“Is it alright if we do, Megumi? Just for a few seconds.” 
“Fine,” he sighs. You can practically hear that eye roll. 
“Yo!” he cheers. 
“Has everything been okay lately?” you ask. 
“Yeah. We’re meeting a new student soon.”
“Ah, yeah. Megumi told me.” 
“—Oh, and my uniform came in! It looks pretty neat.” 
“That’s good. Maybe you can send me a picture once you start wearing it, then.” 
“I will!” 
Things are going better than you thought they would. 
Tumblr media
21-6-2018
It’s been a few days now. 
You don’t know Sasaki and Iguchi well enough to call them friends, but the three of you do know each other. You had never decided to change any contacts with them, and considering that they and you were never closer than acquaintances, friends of a friend— you had never really regretted it. But now that Yuuji is gone— and you know he’s not dead, but still— you wonder whether you should have gotten closer to them, just to be less alone once Yuuji left, even if it could not be the way things were with Yuuji. (“I thought I was a pretty lonely guy, and sometimes I still do. Like— I mean, you’re a lonely girl too sometimes, I think,” he had told you as you patched him up.) 
Still, Yuuji and you were two peas in a pod— so they’re bound to ask what happened to him soon enough, especially Iguchi. 
You’ll have to start getting used to spending your Thursdays alone. And then you’d have to start getting used to every other day without him, too. If you went to the arcade or watched movies or sing-screamed the lyrics to English songs you don’t know the Japanese translations of without his presence there, you know how it wouldn’t feel the same. In life it’s not what you do that matters, you’ve come to realise— it’s who you’re doing these things with. That’s what puts meaning to it all and makes all things done in your life worthwhile. 
The two of them pass you by during lunch. 
“[Last Name]? —Oh, hey!” Sasaki says as she turns around. 
You almost scream and run away like a mouse fleeing from the eyes of a vicious house cat, tremors in your voice. “Hello…” 
“Where’s Yuuji, by the way? The occult club’s going to fall apart without him.” 
You pause. “He transferred to another school…” 
“Huh?” she goes, Iguchi almost reeling back in shock. “Transferred? But why? We’ve barely even made it to the middle of the year!” 
“I… I don’t know, it was something really urgent,” 
Tumblr media
23-6-2018 
Your room is a cluttered mess— lucky as you are that it’s the weekend, the past week has been a rollercoaster that knocked your room’s usual standard of cleanliness off track. Scattered all over your desk were worksheets, notebooks, graph paper pages and foolscap paper, chicken-scratch writing and meticulous notes scribbled all over them to compensate for your absence the day after the incident took place. 
It isn’t the time or the discipline you lack— it’s just that it’s going to be awfully tedious. You’ll have to wipe your desk again, and clean the walls, and sort through all your clothes, too, since you haven’t been folding them in any way that isn’t merely fastidious and nearly careless. So as you get to work, you suppose that calling someone wouldn’t hurt. 
Maybe you could call Megumi. That would be okay. 
For the past few years, you’ve never noticed it. So when you do, it hits you like a bullet train at the fastest of speeds. 
You miss him. Not just in the way you miss 2010, the way you miss the past, the way you miss and mourn the person you used to be. It had been so obvious for Tsumiki, but not for him, and now that you know this it’ll be another quiet revelation— another rediscovery of fragments of yourself concealed by memories. 
You miss him— all of him; you yearned to be his friend again because he was unlike Tsumiki who you knew cherished you as you did her; you miss him regardless of who he is now, because somewhere inside him is the boy who read dog books and brought you to the school library and ran your finger through water when you burned it. Somewhere inside him is the person who offered to hold your bag as he walked with you through a snowy garden, and helped you when your nose bled. 
So it would be okay to call Megumi right now. 
“Fushiguro speaking.” 
“Hi, Megumi. Are you busy?” 
“Not right now.” 
“Want to call?” 
“Fushiguro!” It’s Yuuji. “Wanna go—” 
“I said I’m not going!” 
You chuckle, “Be nice. Were the two of you supposed to go somewhere?” 
“Nothing important. Gojo said he wanted us to ‘bond’ with each other, so he concluded that we could watch a movie. Some kind of gory horror film or something.” 
He’s… actually making an obvious effort not to scold Yuuji that much or call him some insulting, derogatory term this time… wow. 
“Ah, yeah. Yuuji likes his horror movies.” 
“Anyway, anything urgent you wanted to tell me?” 
“No, I’m just… uh—” you laugh nervously, “I’m just a little bored.” Nowadays you’re not really sure what he’d do— scold you, maybe, or roll his eyes so hard that you can hear it over the line, or he may even flash into a quick bit of awkwardness and hesitation through his words. 
Or maybe— and this was the worst of it all, he’d ask why you were calling him, and his bouts of awkwardness would have only been something temporary, soon to be replaced once again by anger and annoyance, the same he gives to everyone else— even if you knew he didn’t always mean it, per se. No more special treatment for you. 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah, uh… I have to clean, and usually it’s not as much as what I have to do today, so I just thought that since the only other person in the house is my father and we don’t really talk much anymore, we could, um… chat for a while. Yeah.” 
“Okay.” 
“Uh-huh, so.” You stand up, leaving your phone on your desk and putting the call on speaker mode. The mountain of papers and books is a wasteland and your desk has been degraded to a landfill— the state of it would make your mother a wailing mess— no, she’d faint instantly as soon as she saw it, becoming worse of a mess than the table itself was. “Anything interesting happened lately?” 
“Not really.” 
“Oh—! Yuuji sent me a picture of his uniform the other day. Was that one special?” 
“Yeah. But they let students make adjustments to the uniform, and he said he hadn’t changed anything, so I think that was Gojo’s doing.” 
“Oh, well, that’s Gojo. It suits him, though, right? Not to sound mean or be presumptuous, but…” you chuckle, “When you wear the uniform, you look so formal. It’s not a bad thing— it’s just that Yuuji’s just always been more casual like that. And the red of the hoodie goes with his hair, too!” 
“I guess so.” 
“I can’t imagine you wearing anything other than the default uniform, though. Not to insult you, I mean, you still look good in the normal uniform, I just— can’t imagine it.” You remark, sorting the materials and books by size and subject. You’ve got to handle some of the drawers, too, now that you’ve started and can’t stop your momentum just yet. You can already feel the dust particles that have gathered on whatever is inside them still, jostling around once you’ve taken them out. 
“If you’re going to say it like that, you can just say it outright.” 
“No, no! I mean that I just can’t imagine you wearing, like, Yuuji’s uniform. Wait, what do the other students’ uniforms look like?” 
“The second years?” 
“Yeah. Did they choose the normal ones?” 
“Inumaki did. They have three boys and one girl, but only two of the boys wear the normal uniform. Okkotsu has a special uniform in white.” 
“Oh, I see,” you nod your head, “It’s a nice uniform, though. I wish I could wear a uniform that pretty.” 
“You could always enrol yourself here,” he suggests, “They’d welcome you with open arms.” 
“Maybe they will,” you chuckle, “But my mother would be adamant on me staying in the ‘normal’ world. She’s unyielding like that.” 
“And your father?”
“Wouldn’t mind, at least I don’t think…” you say, “I’ll have to wonder when to tell him if I do end up in jujutsu high; you never know when he’s mad. He’s always unpredictable like that nowadays and it’s not… particularly pleasant.” 
“I see. It would be good if you were here, though. You would be closer to Dr Ieiri that way. And it would do good, because, um… well, I’d like you here. You’d be… good for the people around you here.” 
“Ah, you— you would?” you ask, slightly phased— not like he hasn’t been a bit nicer to you since you’ve seen him again (maybe it was the awkwardness, maybe it was the guilt). “Thank you,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging up sheepishly, heading to the dusty drawer (you haven’t touched it in what feels like years, usually excluding it from your list of things to clean). 
After a scrupulous amount of wiping away at the dust outside of and surrounding it, you open the drawer with a slight bit of anticipation— you don’t expect much, but you’re a person who lingers on the past like a ghost that has forgotten how time has passed. There wouldn’t be much in this drawer to reminisce on, you presume, but you still approach it with an eager fascination— you’re the type to do so, after all. 
Of everything there, the most noteworthy are two things you grabbed almost immediately— you could never forget how they felt, and the weight that they held in your life back then: a letter, addressed but never delivered to the person you were talking to right now, and a cigarette with a hastily scribbled slew of numbers on it and a lipstick mark on its end. 
Oh, that letter. That letter.  
From what you remember, you’ve never rebelled against your parents before. At least, not with anything major— for a long time, you were their good girl, and you never disobeyed them, as much as you wanted to at times. You still are, still stuck with that age-old drive to be useful. (But was there even a point in that anymore? At least, was there one with your parents?). You didn’t picture yourself as any kind of righteous goody-two-shoes, but you definitely weren’t a rebel or a delinquent. You followed their instructions and seldom ever questioned what they told you, and so it had always been subtly implanted in your brain that they would be alright with anything you did or said. Yet the first time you did actually start to question them, you realised that their belief in your ‘obedience’ as pure love— and maybe it was; you loved them so much you were blinded and trusted them with everything and did anything they wanted their baby to do— you realised they only treated you so lovingly if you were not an actual person with your own ideals and beliefs. 
(But they still loved you, right?) 
Even now, you still do obey them and listen to them. If your father needed anything, he could consider it done; if your mother wanted her clothes to be patched up you’d try your utmost best to withstand the pricking of needles and bring it back to her hospital room with bandaged fingers. It was like that with your mother: even if at times it seemed like the only pain she wanted for you was callouses from a pen or pricks from needles, at other times you feel she could have known you’d end up like her, maybe. Maybe she saw it as a curse: the worlds the two of you were born in were different, and she wanted you to stay in yours, lest you die or live in a world of endless pain. 
You’ve been doing it for a long time: being dismissive of yourself, prone to self-prostration, subservient; the lovingness of a mother, the sweetness of a teenage girl (you hoped), the kindness of a caring friend. Maybe it was Tsumiki— maybe it was because you’d always seen this in Tsumiki. She was always smiling, always caring; taking on the weight of motherhood before she could carry the weight of her school bag. Hugging you with her saccharine smile; braiding her hair with gentle hands and holding your wrist with her hair tie on it even gentler. (You still have it with you. You had planned to start taking it off more once Yuuji left, but you suppose some habits take longer than a week to develop.) All while having that sickening, fantastical, mysterious sweetness of a teenage girl in what you now understand could have been a hidden misery— because caring for someone like a mother while suppressing the thoughts that spoke to you to act like a child was something you wanted to replicate until you realised you understood it. And then you no longer wanted to recreate it. (Maybe that was the way it was for every woman or girl you knew: watching someone you loved hurt themself or not being able to do anything to prevent it when they started. Life was a cycle that way. A very annoying, frustrating one full of unfortunate circumstances and wrongly-picked out decks of cards.) 
“…you know what? I think I may be able to come,” you tell him. 
“You don’t have to go against your father for our sake.” 
“No, don’t worry about it. I think I know who to ask for help. Thank you, Megumi.” 
Tumblr media
“Hi, Dr Ieiri?” 
“Kid? That you?” she goes, the slightest bit of excitement stark against her usual deadpan tone. “I thought you’d never call because of that old man.” 
“Haha, yeah— sorry to disturb you, but, um, Dr Ieiri? I may want to take you up on that offer, by the way, but um, I’m still on the fence. I mean, I know I want to be like you and do what you do but… I don’t know, I’m not quite sure about leaving the two of them alone here and all. But anyway, I just called you because I wanted to ask if there was, you know, any way you could get me to Tokyo somehow. I need to pass something to someone, but, um… I guess I’m going with this with the hope that I’ll change my mind and join you. But I’m… perpetually on the fence for now, I guess.” 
“Pft,” she snorts, “You little rebel, I’m in. I’ll see what I can do.” 
“Thank you so much.” 
Tumblr media
24-6-2018 
The decision and the plan were made as swiftly as you could. 
You decide to tell your father— you wouldn’t want to deceive him, after all. At least, you’d give him a quick notice. And then you’d leave. Like a snowflake before the first day of spring. He’ll probably tell your mother.  
“I’m leaving for Tokyo for a while,” you say, “I’ll be back before you can even realise I’m gone. Invitation from Dr Ieiri.” 
Tumblr media
25-6-2018
“Why?” your father asks, the night before you leave. He suggested going out together at least once before you left. He always knew when you were making white lies. 
“I guess that maybe I’m just too much like you, Daddy.” 
For the first time in years he hugs you on the doorstep, patting you on the back on the day you’re set to leave. “Make sure you study and work hard,” he reminds you. 
Tumblr media
“I’m leaving for Tokyo,” you announce.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving us for a boy,” she goes, rolling her eyes. She doesn’t even blink. 
“I’m not.” You are. 
“You know, your father travelled all over the country to see me again after we’d first met.” 
“Oh. Okay?” 
“And he’s always been dedicated to his job and dedicated to helping people.” 
“Uh huh.” 
“I’m saying that the two of you are very similar. I’ve lived through this story before,” she states, “And you look just like your father right now.” your mother says. She hasn’t smiled the way she used to— you remember it vividly, that vibrant gleam in her, the liveliest and loveliest of life— in ages and you don’t think she will, not now of all times. 
“Really? Sometimes he says I take after you more.” 
“You will.” 
It doesn’t feel like a curse. Even if it usually would make your heart well up in guilt, it doesn’t feel like a curse. 
Maybe she knows that her time is running out. Maybe this is resignation. Whatever it is, you hold her hand first, but you’re also the first one to let the other go, your fingers slipping away from hers. You leave the door for the last time in a while, making another round in your life of that carousel of abandonment and reuniting and departures. 
Tumblr media
25-6-2018 
Dr Ieiri greets you with a calm smile on her pallid face. 
“Good to see you again.” 
“It’s good to be back here,” you sigh. 
It is. 
You keep your hand on your other hand’s wrist, holding them in front of you. The cherry hair tie on it feels warm against your skin as you exit the station, summer heat embracing it softly. 
Tumblr media
taglist:
@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored
(please send an ask/state in the notes if you'd like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)
Tumblr media
34 notes · View notes
rubylovessharks · 1 day
Text
what would coffee do to them?
this is not a X reader but i have headcannons about this sooo~ here's what i think coffee would do to each twst character :) also i have no idea why but coffee makes me sleepy, so im not going to pull stuff like this outta nowhere-
Heartslabyul
Riddle- i think he's used to it cuz he studies a lot, so he probably needs to get more energy. So it would make sense that Riddle would drink coffee and gain more energy, nothing weird.
Trey- I don't think he's really into bitter tastes, but he doesn't mind them. So I don't think he'll drink coffee that much, it also probably doesn't do too much though. But what if when Trey drinks too much coffee he'd want to bake more?
Cater- Cater probably drinks coffee in the morning. Cater is a character I don't know too much about but with the small information I have on him doesn't really make me think of what coffee would do to him.. So my guess is that he gets more energy and like any normal person and after a while the energy leaves and he gets tired. Nothing special.
Ace- Ace doesn't seem like someone who would drink coffee often. Maaaybe to study? But not that often. At some point if he drank too much he would just pass out, and when I say too much it'll probably be 5 or 6 cups of coffee. One time Duece found him like that and freaked out so hard, he called Riddle and told him this and Riddle also kind of freaks out but seems calm and takes Ace to the nursery. Deuce makes sure Ace never gets to drink that much coffee ever again.
Deuce- We all know that Deuce studies a lot so he probably drinks a lot of coffee, and also I think he doesn't notice when it's the time Riddle set for everyone to sleep, so until Riddle notices that he isn't asleep he scolds him and then immediately feels concerned about the amount of coffee he's been drinking. The same thing will happen with Ace. Ace swears he's stopping Deuce from drinking that much coffee cuz "he's too loud when he studies!" but we all know that's not true..
Savanaclaw
Leona- This guy almost never drinks coffee only because he naps a lot. But I think he would drink coffee when he NEEDS to do something, so that's he's way of getting energy. But here's the thing, when he does drink coffee even though the caffeine works on him he still looks like he's half-asleep.
Ruggie- This guy knows how to do the best coffee you'll ever drink! But it'll cost you a lot.. He probably does drink coffee in the morning so he can get going throughout the day, this guy has many things to do. I also think that every few hours he would drink another coffee to keep going.
Jack- I don't think Jack drinks coffee, at least not often. Nothing special after drinking coffee as well. He's pretty normal about it.
Octavinelle
Azul- He likes he's coffee with milk, I like to think that the first time he heard of coffee on land (they probably have something like coffee under the sea) he wanted to try all types of coffee, just to fully understand what he likes, and what can sell better. He did not like black coffee.. Other than that he's nothing special as well.
Jade- He's the total opposite of Floyd. He becomes really really energetic. He tries to play it cool, like nothing has changed- but you can see that he has more energy. He's movements are way faster than what they are normally, you can see that he's eyes are looking around more often, and things like that.
Floyd- I think that because Floyd has a lot of energy depending on his mood the way to calm him down would be with drinking coffee. I know that caffeine should make a person more energetic, but with personal experience I feel like falling asleep. I think he would be like that too. The only effect other than sleepiness would be the energy in his veins, he's still sleepy though.
Scarabia
Kalim- Don't give this guy coffee- he'd get seriously energetic. If he already has energy on a normal day coffee makes him even more energetic.
Jamil- He's probably not someone who drinks coffee often. I just don't see him as a guy that drinks it regularly, but he definitely drinks it from time to time, just not super often. I think he has normal reactions to it, not too hyper but not like Floyd who'd fall asleep.
Pomefiore
Vil- He's more of a tea guy. He doesn't drink coffee often, but when he does it would probably be closer to things he needs to do during the late evening. Also a guy that doesn't have a weird reaction like some of these guys would.
Rook- Thinks all coffee is good. He enjoys the beauty of everything, coffee is no different. Doesn't have a preference, will drink any and every coffee. It does not work on him, I repeat. Coffee does not work on Rook. Not getting more energy and not getting sleepy. You'll see this guy downing a cup of coffee and see that nothing happens to him. He'll drink coffee just for the taste.
Epel- First thing in the morning he's doing is make a cup of coffee. Black too, he thinks it's manly. He probably doesn't need it though so after some time you can see that in class he looks more sleepy than a regular student should. Vil probably scolds him about it.
Ignihyde
Idia- He doesn't always drink it cuz he has his energy drinks but if he had to he would make a black coffee to get through the night, I think that at some point energy drinks aren't going to work properly on him so coffee is something he'll start getting used to.
Ortho- He's a robot, he doesn't need coffee. And when he was a child and alive I don't think he would've tried it or something- that's it really.
Diasomnia
Malleus- I don't know if he would be into coffee or not, but I think that the first time he did try it his pupils would get bigger? I know our pupils get bigger because of light and stuff- but Malleus isn't human, so maybe some of the energy he got from the caffeine would make his eyes try to focus more on his surroundings??? Even if he's pupils didn't get bigger, he's eyes would still try to focus around.
Lilia- I'm not sure if in cannon it is said that he drinks anything to keep him awake when gaming with Idia or not but I think that he doesn't need coffee during the night, I think it even takes him a while to fall asleep just cuz bats are night animals so it kinda makes sense that he's fully awake at night. I might be breaking canon or something since I don't know too much about him, so sorry if I did- I like to think that in the morning though he has to drink coffee or else he's not able to function throughout the day. (ik he's not a bat but he has similarities so it makes sense)
Silver- It doesn't work on him, He probably tried drinking coffee at some point in his life to get through the day without falling asleep, but it didn't work very well...20 minutes after drinking it he fell asleep. After that he made another coffee and it would repeat like that all day.
Sebek- He would drink coffee on days he feels like he needs to. I don't know much about this guy so I'm not sure of what else to say.. But he probably would drink coffee with milk, not too much milk though, and he probably brags on drinking it black and not actually his taste, but if he tried black coffee again you'll see him throwing it up cuz he probably doesn't like the taste. He's probably more loud and aggressive after drinking coffee though.
38 notes · View notes
abbu0414 · 2 days
Text
A Switch (2009!Ghost X reader)
Guy this is just a shit post to let you know I'm alive (not actually bc I'm in college and finals are literally in a week) I'm sorry for being so inactive. Also please give me suggestions in my requests so I can get back into writing!
Word Count: 484
♪Song: House Song by Searows♪
Tumblr media
Women practically threw themselves at his feet. It was always the same way too. They would stumble up to him at the bar while he was silently celebrating with his team for their most recent successful mission, ask what he was doing tonight and if they could sneak a peek at the face behind the mask. Of course he would dismiss them and send them back off to their group of friends, returning to his team after doing so. He didn’t know why but it upset him. The first time it happened to him, he was surprised. Women wanted him? But he was so scary and brutting…to each their own I guess. But the more it happened, the more he realized the women wanted one thing. Him. Not like him as a whole person, but just a part of him. The part that didn’t have a soul, just the empty, hollow casing of it. No one asked his name, what he does for a living, why he wears the mask, not even what his favorite color was. Not that he’d even answer those questions, but no one ever tried. Which is why he would avoid the bars as much as possible. If he did go, he would stick to the walls and corners of the bar. 
One day you walk in. He notices you but instantly looks away. Not in shyness, but in hopes you wouldn’t notice his 6’4 figure, or the infamous ghost mask. He watches you stand at the bar looking around. The bar lights light up your face, illuminating your cheek bones and your cute nose. The way that your eyelashes batted in quick increments is so captivat- ‘Ghost you’re getting sidetracked, get it together.’ You quickly look at your phone and see no notifications. 20 minutes pass, then thirty minutes. He sees you hang your head and pick it back up to ask the bartender for a drink. He watches your lips and sees you mouth the words ‘double’. You get your drink and take a big gulp, letting the drink warm your throat. 
You look around and make eye contact with him. You begin hesitantly walking towards him and he starts to roll his eyes. 
Here we go again, how should I steer this one away? He thinks to himself. He watches you walk closer stick out your hand to shake and-
“Hi, I’m y/n. I just got stood up for a first date and I could really use a friend right now so I feel less shitty about it. What’s your name?” You think for a second “And your favorite color.”
Oh. Oh.
He hesitates to answer, but a switch flips in him.
“You can call me Ghost. And asking me my favorite color is too personal of a question for me, but let me buy you another drink for getting stood up.” 
He liked you already.
40 notes · View notes
luvrboydave · 2 days
Text
dad's best friend dave pt.2
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: dbf!dave x virgin!fem reader
warnings: smut, kinda insecure reader, inexperienced reader, age gap, couch sex, unprotected piv, creampie, maybe breeding kink idk, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), pussy slapping (like once), LOTS of praise, dave teaches her how to give a hj/bj, pet names (sweetheart, baby, darlin'), tiny itty bit of overstim, soft dave but also a little mean dave at the beginning
words: 2.3k
a/n: not proof read and also might be bad cuz im a bit out of practice :3 feeding the dbf!dave girlies even though im not hyperfixated on megadeth rn!!!! enjoy guys, COME GET YOUR FOOD MWAH <3
CLICK HERE FOR PT.1
Tumblr media
ever since your little fling with dave, he’s been plaguing your thoughts more than usual…daydreams of his thick fingers inside of you, wet dreams involving him pinning you down and having his way with you. no matter how hard you try to ignore the thoughts and push them away, they always return stronger. sometimes, you wonder if he ever thinks about you as well, if he touches himself to the memory of your tight cunt. 
surely, he notices your lingering stares when he comes over to watch sports with your dad, right? surely, he notices that you’re completely and absolutely in love with him, right…?
it’s like you don’t even exist to him anymore; were you really that bad of a lay? thoughts raced through your head. did you do something wrong? did he not like how your body looked? were you too inexperienced for him? you were startled from your thoughts when a hand laid on your shoulder. looking to your left, you see that familiar head of curly orange hair. 
"oh, hey dave. sorry. i was just lost in thought," you mumble, turning to look up at him. 
dave hums at your words, “no worries, sweetheart. your dad just ran to the store, wanted me to tell you he’d be gone ‘bout an hour or two.”
your eyes follow him as he walks around the couch and sits beside you. “so, what was goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” he smiles, locking eyes with you. it was as if he could see straight through you. 
“just thinking about…college stuff,” you murmur, eyes breaking away from his and looking down at your clasped hands. 
“school stuff, hm? there’s no reason to lie to me, sweetheart.” he places a hand on your bare knee, and you jump slightly at the touch. 
“i know, sorry. my brain is just all kinds of messy right now.” you sigh.
“you wanna talk about it?” he asks as his thumb rubs comforting circles over your thigh. 
you go silent, trying to decide if you should just ask if you’ve done something wrong. your brain is screaming at you not to do it, and your stomach churns at the thought of him confirming all your insecurities. 
with a burst of courage, you blurt out the question that’s been haunting you, “did i do something wrong?” 
dave’s face scrunches in confusion, “what makes you think you did something wrong, sweetheart?”
“y’know, the last time we were…alone…together. i can tell you’ve been avoiding me since then. i thought maybe i did something wrong or something you didn’t like if you were staying away from me…” you ramble, moving your hands wildly while explaining yourself. 
“shit, sweetheart…m’sorry. you didn’t do anything wrong; you were perfect. i was keeping my distance from you ’cause i thought you’d be disgusted by me.” he laughs, scooting closer to you on the couch and sliding his hand higher up your thigh. 
“i could never be disgusted by you.” you giggle, resisting the urge to press your thighs together at his touch. 
“is that right…” he hums, a smirk forming on his lips. 
all of a sudden, his lips are on yours. you moan in surprise, hands coming to wrap around his neck. the kiss is desperate but sweet at the same time, as if he’s trying to make up for causing you to stress. his hand continues under your skirt, knuckles rubbing over your damp panties. Dave’s other hand cups your face, deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue into your mouth. 
you gasp when he slides your panties to the side and runs a finger through your folds. “shit, sweetheart… so wet for me already.” he groans into the kiss. you buck your hips up into his hand, silently asking for more. 
“mmh-, my baby is so fucking greedy.” dave growls, slipping a finger inside of your cunt. his cock grows hard from the noises you’re making–your soft mewls are music to his ears. dave slips another finger inside of you slowly, stretching you out nicely. once you adjust to the new addition, dave picks up his pace–fingers pistoning in and out of you. 
“fuck, this pussy is so sloppy for me, baby…all for me, ain’t that right, sweetheart?” dave grunts, looking you in the eyes. 
you struggle to give him an answer–the pleasure already too much for you. As you try to speak, the only things that come out are strained moans and half-formed curses. 
“fuckin’ answer me, baby.” dave growls, pulling his fingers out of you and landing a harsh slap on your sensitive cunt. your body jumps at the impact, crying out from the pain. 
“shit- yes! all for you- all for you…” you whine tearfully, hands moving to grip his hair. 
“good girl,” dave praises, rubbing your clit, before slipping his fingers back into your drooling pussy. his pace is brutal, and he doesn’t let up–not even when fat tears start to roll down your cheeks. one of the hands that’s threaded into his hair moves to grip his wrist, trying to slow him down–but he doesn’t relent. 
dave pushes you down to lay on your back with his free hand before snatching both of your wrists and pinning them above your head. He can tell you’re close by the way you squirm underneath him, frantically bucking your hips into his hand. 
“that’s it, sweetheart. let go for me.” dave coos as you come undone. your body shakes, thighs clamping shut around dave’s hand at the intensity of your orgasm. 
your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. dave gives you time to recover, gently rubbing your thigh before leaving to grab you a glass of water. you thank him when he returns to the living room, and you down the glass quickly. 
“wanna help you now,” you mumble shyly, pushing him back against the couch before sinking to your knees in front of him, “this is my first time doin’ this…” you admit. 
“fuck…you’re so perfect for me, sweetheart. letting an old man like me take all your firsts,” he groans, “gonna let me be the first one to fuck your pretty little angel cunt too, hm?” 
you nod softly, looking away from him in embarrassment. he chuckles at your shyness before grabbing your hand and placing it over his bulge. 
“here, let me teach ya how it’s done,” he smiles, “first, you gotta take it out, ‘kay?” 
you nod again, pulling the zipper down and helping him slip out of his jeans. you’re a little intimidated, but he reassures you that you can back out anytime. 
you reach into his boxers and wrap your hand around his cock; it’s a bit weird at first, but you eventually get used to the feeling and feel confident enough to pull his boxers down and let his cock spring free. dave praises you sweetly and helps guide you through it. 
“go ahead and spit on it now, sweetheart,” he commands softly, stroking your hair. you do exactly as he says, gathering spit in your mouth and letting it drip from your lips onto the head of his cock. 
“good,” he smiles, “now use your hand to spread it around–use a little pressure, but don’t squeeze too hard.” 
you follow his instructions, stroking up and down and occasionally squeezing lightly. dave groans softly, watching you with lustful eyes. he swears he almost cums when he sees your wide, curious eyes staring up at him. 
“you’re doing amazing for me, baby…use your thumb to rub the tip–and if it feels like it’s getting dry, spit on it some more.”
you let some more spit fall onto his dick, using your thumb to spread it around his tip. hesitantly, you lean down and give the tip a small lick. your cunt clenches at the sound dave makes. testing the waters, you give it another lick before wrapping your lips around the tip. dave has to fight the urge to buck his hips up and bury his cock deep in your warm throat. 
“fuck- didn’t even have to tell you to put it in your mouth,” he groans and threads a hand in your hair, “take your time, sweetheart. you don’t gotta rush.” 
you try to smile at him before taking his cock further into your mouth. you revel in the small grunts and sighs dave makes, thighs clenching at the erotic sounds. as you try to take him deeper, you gag around his cock and quickly pull off to catch your breath. dave hums at your messy face, the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes making his dick twitch. he softly raises his hand to caress your cheek, encouraging you to take him back into your mouth. 
“gonna let me fuck your throat, sweetheart?” dave questions, “i promise i’ll be gentle.”
you hum in agreement around his cock, whining when he threads his hand into your hair. dave slowly thrusts up into your mouth, and your throat constricts around him as he pushes deeper and deeper. his free hand wipes the tears from your eyes, and he coos at you softly. he groans when he bottoms out in your throat. 
“shiiit- you’re doing great, sweetheart. just breathe through your nose, baby–tap my leg a few times if you need me to pull out,” he mumbles, pulling back until just the tip is in your mouth and sliding back in slowly. 
dave slowly increases his pace, spouting praise at you as he does so. When you swirl your tongue around his tip and bring a hand up to massage his balls, he knows he’s about to cum. he quickly pulls out of your mouth and pulls you up from the floor before laying you down on the couch. 
“need to be inside of you, sweetheart. can’t wait to fill this pretty pussy of yours.” dave groans, pulling your shirt over your head and panties down your legs. 
“hot even wearin’ a bra, huh–so fuckin’ desperate for me…you wanted this to happen, didn’t you.” he teases, hands groping at your bare tits. 
you whine, nodding feverishly and bucking your hips up into him. dave chuckles at your impatience. your body twitches when you feel dave spit down onto your already sopping cunt a few times. dave guides his cock to your cunt, slipping between your pussy lips and rocking back and forth. your mouth opens with a silent whine when the head of his cock catches on your clit as he rocks forward. 
“gonna put it in now, sweetheart. try to relax for me, i want this to be as comfortable for you as possible,” dave states, pushing your legs up towards your chest and guiding his cock to your entrance.
you keen at the stretch, wincing slightly as your cunt opens up for him. “that’s it…breathe for me, baby–just relax.” he murmurs sweetly.
dave continues pushing deeper into your tight pussy, groaning as your warm walls flutter around his length. he pauses as he bottoms out, allowing you time to breathe and adjust to his size, all while muttering praise in your ear. 
“think i’m ready for you to move, baby…” you whine, rocking your hips slightly into his. 
dave smiles at you before he pulls out and thrusts back in gently. your eyes roll back into your head as he begins thrusting into you at a steady pace. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a messy kiss. dave swallows the pretty noises you make as he fucks you, revelling in your pleasure. 
“you can move faster-” you moan, breaking the kiss and looking him in the eyes. 
“you sure, sweetheart?” he questions, slowing down his thrusts and waiting for you to confirm. you nod, giving him the go-ahead to speed up.
it’s like a switch flips inside of him–he pushes your legs even closer to your chest and fucks into you quickly. your head falls back onto the couch's armrest, fingers clawing at his shoulders in pleasure. dave’s hips piston in and out of you, your sloppy cunt squelching with each thrust. 
your back arches off of the couch when he snakes his hand down to play with your swollen clit. your body feels like it’s on fire, the pleasure quickly becoming too much. 
“hnng- think im gonna cum! fuck-” you cry out, voice breaking as tears spill from your eyes.
“Shh, sweetheart. you can let go, c’mon, cum for me like a good girl.” he coos, fingers still rubbing circles on your clit as he picks up his pace. 
Your body shakes as you start to cum, and your vision goes spotty. your arms hold onto dave’s shoulders for dear life as your body convulses. dave continues thrusting in and out of your cunt, overstimulating your poor, sensitive pussy. 
“keep clenchin’ around me, just like that, sweetheart,” he growls, his pace faltering ever so slightly. “fuuuck- gonna fuckin’ ruin this gorgeous angel cunt of yours, baby–fill you up so good you’ll be leakin’ for weeks.” 
dave groans, pushing his hips flush with yours when he cums, pumping you full of his warm, sticky cum. your pussy flutters around him, milking him of every last drop. dave’s head drops into the crook of your neck, and he presses soft kisses to the skin there. you stroke his back as he lays on top of you, a smile pulling on your lips. 
“i think i’m in love with you,” you mutter softly. 
dave’s ears perk up at your words–he lifts his head to look at you, “you really mean that, sweetheart?” 
“of course I do,” you affirm, moving your hands to hold his face and pull him up into a loving kiss. 
“i love you too,” he murmurs into the kiss, “but we might wanna get dressed…i don’t think your dad would appreciate seeing us cuddled up naked on the couch,” he laughs.
30 notes · View notes
solo-pitstop-vibes · 3 days
Text
Rowing Pair - Part Two | Don Hume
Tumblr media
Don Hume x Original Character
Hi! This is definitely not super edited and maybe a little rushed, but I wanted to post something so here we are! Enjoy part two of Rowing Pair! More to come from Allie and Don...
Part one here!
...
Don gets a little courage after the Huskies' first win.
...
The early morning breeze is chilly coming off the water. Rowing practice is in full swing, and Allie is standing with the other coaches. Bundled up in a thick sweater, her arms are crossed for more than one reason. Ulbrickson paces the length of the Varsity boat, shaking his head,  
“34 strokes. You’re fine at 34 strokes. Anything higher and you fall apart. 34 strokes, you don’t beat Cal. 34 strokes, you don’t win at Poughkeepsie. You certainly don’t get to Germany. You know who you beat with 34 strokes?”
He throws his arm out, pointing with his notebook. “The JV boat. Maybe,” he says, turning to the JV crew lounging on the dock. “What are you guys waiting for? Get back in the boat.”
Scrambling to their feet, the younger crew hustles back into their shell. The last few days of practice had not gone well for either team. The Varsity crew was looking worse by the day, and the JV boat wasn’t coming together as they should. Another hour passes with the rowing shells making their way up and down the channel. No one is happy with the progression of the day. The coaches are climbing out of the motorboat, waiting for the two row boats to finish floating in.
Allie looks to Ulbrickson,
“Permission to speak candidly, sir?”
Al gives her a curt nod.
“I don’t think Glenn is a good fit for the boat, they need someone with more fire. There’s a lot of energy to wrangle in that shell, and I don’t think he can do it.”
Al’s eyebrows raise in interest, “Okay, then who would you suggest?”
“You know who.”
That statement gets Allie a pointed look from Ulbrickson without hesitation,
“We’ll talk about it later.”
The next practice, Bobby Moch strutted down the dock and straight into the cox seat of the JV shell. Three practices later, they were rowing like a well-oiled machine. Allie stood next to Ulbrickson and Bolles, watching from the dock. Allie couldn’t help the smug smile trying to break its way onto her face.
“Better?” she asked Al, hands clasped behind her back as she rocked on her heels.
That got her another pointed look, but this time followed by a small smile.
“Better.”
...
“They’re catching up!”
Joyce’s voice rings out amongst the cheering crowd, her hand gripped tightly in Allie’s. Their eyes trained on the two boats making their way through the water, even from far away, they can tell Washington is slowly making their way alongside the Cal boat.
Allie declined Pocock’s invitation to watch along the shore of the finish line, instead choosing to watch the race with Joyce on one of the observation boats. She clearly made the better choice with how invigorating it was to her and feel the crowd cheer around them. Allie and Joyce were only one of many yelling at the top of their lungs as Washington surged past the halfway point, swiftly passing the waning Cal crew.
“Oh, you’ve done it now, Bobby,” Allie mutters under her breath.
Bobby gives the opposing coxswain a taunting wave as they push ahead. The Washington crew's speed began building and paired with a synchronized technique, they were pulling away. Each crew member strained with each row of their oars, and their chests heaved. The crowd’s volume surged, and the announcer began shouting through the intercom as Washington pulled further ahead. Approaching the finish line, they were ahead by a full boat. Closer and closer to the finish line, pushing themselves to the limit.
“And there’s the flag! Washington has done it!”
Allie and Joyce grab each other once again, jumping in joy with their arms around each other. Joyce exclaiming,
“They did it! They really did it!”
As they glide to a stop, splashing surrounds the winning crew as they celebrate. They’re all damp by the time they come to a stop, with huge smiles on their faces. Don shakes hands with Bobby before looking up into the crowd. Catching eyes with Allie, his smile widens as he excitedly waves in her direction. Allie laughs at Don’s excitement, sending back a small wave and a massive grin.
The party was in full swing by the time Allie arrived, and she stood outside for a few moments trying to get her bearings. She was practically shoved out of Ulbrickson’s office an hour ago with a promise from Tom that they were done reviewing footage for the night. Allie was still standing outside, nervously smoothing out her dark green dress when Bobby’s smiling face appeared in the doorway. His jacket had already been abandoned somewhere; his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Leaning on the propped open door, he spoke,
“Scared to come in?”
Allie shook her head, “No, it’s just weird because I’m late and coming in alone.”
Bobby clicked his tongue, making his way down the steps to her with his hands tucked in his pockets. “It’s not weird, I’ll go in with you. This party is just as much for you as it is for us.”
She didn’t move, just giving Bobby a nervous glance. Bobby’s expression softens,
“Hey, uh, I’ve been meaning to talk to you anyway. Ulbrickson told me that I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you and that I wasn’t an option until you suggested me. So, thank you. I’m really happy to be back on the team.”
Allie hadn’t known Bobby long, but they had become close over the summer. While he was strong-headed and liked to act on his own fruition, he always valued Allie’s opinion. She was stunned when he was removed from the crew. Unfortunately, Ulbrickson had used Bobby’s punishment to teach the crew a lesson. Everyone is replaceable, he had said. That’s why he was so hesitant to bring him back and eat his own words.
“I’m really glad you’re back too, Bobby. It wasn’t the same without you.”
Allie meant it. Bobby brought out more in the JV team than he ever could have with the varsity team, and the potential was building.
Bobby knocked his shoulder against hers, flashing Allie a cheeky smile, “Come on, time to let loose. I bet you can get some schmuck in there to dance with you in the first five minutes!”
Allie smiled softly, shaking her head, “Oh, maybe I’ll just watch. I don’t want to dance with just anybody.”
Before she finishes her sentence, the coxswain is already nudging her towards the door encouragingly, “Well I’ll dance with you if you don’t see anyone who passes the test. Although I might have a suggestion or two myself on who to go for.”
His hand is firm on her back as they break through the doorway. Allie glances around, looking for another familiar face. She spots Don almost immediately, sitting on a bench alone with his hands tucked in his pockets. His cute little frown painted across his face. He hadn’t noticed her yet.
“There might be one good one in this bunch, but I might take you up on that offer later,” Allie gives Bobby a small smile, glancing away from Don before Bobby could catch on. Little did she know, Bobby already had plans in motion. While he couldn’t confirm her crush on Don, he sure could confirm Don’s crush on Allie. Having caught on to Don’s puppy dog eyes at practice the week prior, Bobby was determined for Don to make a move after their maiden win. There was no better time.
In the center of the room, couples were dancing to the big band music flowing through the speakers with others sitting at tables that hugged the sides of the room. Allie finds Joyce and Joe sitting close at a small table and notices Shorty slipping off outside with one of Joyce’s roommates. Noticing Allie, Joyce waves her over, gushing about how great she looks. Bobby dashes into action, scrambling through the crowd to Don. Joyce would hold Allie off for a few minutes, she was a talker just like he was. Bobby slides down the bench, settling beside his teammate.
“Whatcha doin’?”
Don shrugs, “I’m watching.”
Bobby glances around, Allie is still talking to Joyce. Good. “Why aren’t you talking to anybody?”
“I’m not much of a talker,” Don replies. His hands are still shoved into his pockets, no intention of moving.
“Oh.” Bobby nods, “Well, look over there. See her?” Motioning in the direction of Allie, who has now glanced up and caught the pair talking. Don balks, catching eyes with Allie and swiftly looking away, straight ahead. His throat is dry, and he blinks, “Y-yeah, I see her.”
“Allie said to me that she wasn’t going to dance with just anybody. Now, I’ve offered to dance with her if she doesn’t want to dance with anyone else but…,” Bobby turns in towards Don for emphasis. “Listen, Hume. Tonight, not tomorrow night, or next week. Tonight is your best shot.”
A beat passes, and Bobby thinks he’s convinced him.
“You go on. I think I’m okay.”
Bobby could smack Don Hume upside the head in an instant. “Christ sake,” he mutters, glancing again between Don and Allie. Don nods his head in quick succession, confirming he’s not changing his mind. Yeah, he and Allie had talked a good bit, and he had walked her to her dorm a few times after practice, but she had only kissed him on the cheek once. There’s no way that Allie liked him, he thought. He felt like she was just that nice to everyone. Defeated, Bobby huffs again, looking around the room. All the other guys were dancing with a girl. Well, Johnny and Roger were dancing together, but Bobby could still count that as dancing with someone.
A lightbulb goes off in his head, and before he could think again, Bobby shoots off the bench and towards the stage. Quickly cutting the music off, he steps up to the microphone.
“Hey, listen up!”
The crowd stops dancing and turns to the commotion on stage, Allie included.
“We got a musician in our midst. With a little encouragement, we might just get him to give us some live music. Don Hume! Get up here. Get up here!”
The crew rushes around Don and despite his protests, they drag him up by his arms and carry him towards the stage. As they’re settling him down around the piano, Bobby motions to Chuck, quietly telling him to go find Allie and to bring her upfront. Chuck dashes off, racing through the crowd before finding the young girl towards the back of the room. She gives him an odd look when he stops abruptly in front of her, slightly winded from his frantic search.
“Moch is requesting that you come up front,” Chuck makes a grand gesture of holding his arm out for her to take, which she does hesitantly. Bobby had something in play, and she was suspicious. In a way, Bobby thought that above all else, if he could get both Don and Allie to let loose with a little fun and music, then he could call his plan a partial success. He hoped, however, that Don’s little performance might give him some courage. Don settles in at the piano and looks out to the crowd, just as Allie steps into place between Bobby and Chuck.
He forces himself not to freak out with Allie front and center. He glances back at the piano then back to Bobby, then to Allie. She looked beautiful. Her hair is down, blonde curls falling down her shoulders, and right then and there, Don decides that dark green is his new favorite color. Her full attention is on him, and for those few seconds, he felt like he was in heaven. Tearing himself away, he turns to the piano fully and takes a few deep breaths. This is it, he thought.
Before he can second guess himself, he starts off the first tune that comes to mind- the same tune that Allie had been humming to herself at practice. Don played the first few notes and Allie broke out into a huge smile, recognizing the tune immediately. Soon everyone was dancing and singing along with the JV crew singing the loudest. Enamored with Don’s newfound confidence, Allie could hardly look away even with Bobby, Chuck, and Roger taking turns twirling her around every so often.
They could dance and sing all night, but as Don plays the final notes and the song comes to an end, the crowd erupts in cheers. For a few moments, Don takes in the cheers and applause before he turns to the crowd and bows his head, looking up with a smug smirk. Quite the opposite of his usual shy smile. Allie catches his gaze when he looks up. She’s hooked the second they lock eyes. She almost feels dizzy when Don’s smug smirk is accompanied by a quick wink in her direction. A deep blush rushes to her face, her lip taut between her teeth. Now, she’s the one in heaven.
When Don descends from the stage, he’s greeted by more celebration from the boys grabbing him up and patting him on the back with each telling him how great of a job he did. Others from the crowd doing the same. Allie stood aside, waiting her turn to congratulate him after all the boys did. Once the crowd had settled down, Don finally turned to Allie.
“That was amazing! You were amazing!”
Someone must’ve turned the big band music back on and turned the volume up because Don could barely hear what Allie was saying. All he could tell was that she was excited and had a huge smile on her face, his smile mirrored hers. He shook his head, raising his voice,
“What?”
She tried repeating herself, but between the music and the crowd they were stuck in the middle of, neither could hear each other. Allie huffs after another failed attempt and grabs Don by the hand. Dragging Don behind her, much like a lost puppy, Allie makes her way outside where it is quieter. Once they make it outside and she doesn't feel the need to yell, Allie turns to Don,
“Geez, It’s too loud in there after all that. I have been trying to say that your performance was amazing and you’re amazing! Where did you learn to play?”
“I’ve been playing since I was little,” Don shrugs, a smile still stuck on his face. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. That was a lot of fun, but uh don’t tell Bobby I said that. He’ll be dragging me up on stage at every party.”
Allie laughs, “I promise I won’t tell Bobby.”
A few beats of silence fall between them as they just take each other in. An idea spurs in Don’s head. The music from inside can be heard softly from their spot on the top landing of the steps just outside the doors.
“Do you want to dance? It’s too loud in there, but it’s not so bad out here.”
Allie nods eagerly, “I’d love to.”
Softly taking her hand in his, Don gently pulls Allie in towards him. Swaying gently to the music, neither of them breaks their comfortable silence for a few moments. Resting her head on his collar, the pair are closer than ever. Ignoring the fuzzy feeling in her stomach, Allie is the first to speak up. “You did really great today, Don. You and the whole crew. I have a good feeling about this year.”
“Thank you, today felt good. It was fun,” Don replies. “It felt nice to have someone there cheering me on too. I’d win every race if it meant you were at the finish line.”
“Well,” Allie smiles bashfully, looking up at Don, “Don’t go around telling the crew I have a favorite. They’ll all get jealous.”
Don chuckles, “I won’t tell.”
Even in the dim lighting, the two are fighting off a blush, hoping the other won't see. To distract them both, Don steps back and raises his arm, letting Allie twirl in place a few times. Her soft giggle fills his ears as her dress flares slightly, making Don smile. His voice is quiet, almost as if he’s saying it to himself,
“You look beautiful.” A beat passes. “You always do.”
Allie’s breath gets caught in her throat, as Don pulls her back to him. Her voice is equally as quiet when she looks up at him and replies,
“Thank you.” Allie hesitates after finishing her sentence, trying to find the courage for her next words. “Don, I-“
She can barely get Don’s name out before a familiar voice rings out,
“Hey, lovebirds! Might want to come back inside, they just brought out a cake with all our names on it!”
Huffing at Bobby’s rude interruption, Allie steps away from Don slightly, who rolls his eyes at the coxswain. He wants to pull Allie back to him as she steps away. He keeps their hands connected, but his eyebrows are furrowed, “You were saying?”
Allie shakes her head, smiling softly, “It can wait, let’s get inside.”
Eeekkk! I couldn't decide if things were going to go further, but I'm feeling a slow burn for this one. More chapters to come!
41 notes · View notes