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casspurrjoybell-33 · 6 months

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Wreakless - Photography Exhibition

*Warning Adult Content*

Emmett Locke

We're having a perfectly nice meal on Thursday evening when I mention the exhibit that's being put on tomorrow. It's been on my mind all week but I'm ready.

The canvases are all dropped off and I can finally look forward to it instead of just being nervous.

Strike that, I'm still nervous but there's some excitement along with it instead of just fear.

There are two other people the class that I'm really excited about seeing their work and even if the exhibit tanks... I have learned a ton.

"Tomorrow?" Finnegan gasps, then pulls his cell-phone from his pocket.

"I thought it was Saturday. What time?"

"Three to six, why?"

What is that look for?

"I can't with you sometimes, Emmett. Why?"

This boy really knows how to scoff.

That is a massive eyeroll.

Looks painful.

Oh.

"You don't have to come or anything, darling."

Again, a look.

Oooh, his nose is into it now, he's squelching it up at me and those eyes are not happy.

What?

"Do you not WANT me to come?"

No, no.

"You're welcome, of course Finnegan but I know you're starting production Monday and I remember what happened last time so I don't want you to worry about it."

"I'm worried because you're telling me this now. If you had mentioned it before I could have scheduled around it. I'm gonna tell Megan this is your fault."

Anything but that... I need Megan on my good side so that I can sneak into his office for fun lunches. Yesterday was really, really nice.

"Finnegan, really, you don't have to come."

"Because? No, no, don't answer that. I'm coming."

"It's just photography, Finnegan."

I know how he feels about it and museums so I don't expect him to be interested.

"Just because we're together doesn't mean you have to do shit you don't enjoy."

He reaches out and grabs my hand.

"I don't care if you're smearing shit on the walls and setting it on fire, Emmett Locke... this is your thing and I will support your thing."

Okay, he's scary now.

"You ever watch dance moms? You're scaring me, darling."

"No, I have no time for foolishness. And for the record... I enjoy your photography quite a bit. Is this about the 'art' comment at the Walters? Look, I apologize and even if I don't think it's art, that doesn't mean I can't appreciate it. I don't think golf is a sport but I have no problem with people playing it, Emmett. You can be really good at something that's not... Okay, bad example but whatever. Ugh, you. What is with you tonight?"

Then he mocks me, faking my voice.

"It's only this hugely important exhibition that I've been wanting to do for years. Why would you, my boyfriend, want to come?"

I'm laughing, I can't help it.

He even pushes fake hair out of his face.

I get up and take our dishes to the sink.

"Oh stop."

"No, you stop. I'm coming no matter what you say."

Now it's his turn to blush.

"That sounded SO dirty."

"Yes it did and I may have to teach you a lesson, darling."

When I turn around he's smiling and walking towards me.

"I love lessons and I'm sure you have some pent up energy with tomorrow and all, don't you?"

"I do. We can't have me going into the exhibition all pent up, as you so eloquently put it. We're gonna hammer some of that out right now."

Finnegan Walker

We have a fault on the line and the circuit boards aren't passing.

I wanted to be out of here ten minutes ago to head over to Emmett's exhibition and instead I'm on the floor talking to my engineers.

They seem to have a solid plan, thankfully.

"Look, tweak it and run it again. I'll be back."

I've never been to this campus but the building they're holding the exhibition in is massive and there are a million cars here.

I'm way overdressed so I lose my jacket and take off my tie.

Better.

Still, better to be overdressed than under although it's getting really hard to be under dressed anymore.

Seriously, the things people wear outdoors shocks me.

I wouldn't wear half of that in front of Marten, much less other people.

I sign in and go through the double doors and am taken aback.

It's fancy and really well done and there's a ton of variety.

I pass by six large photographs of faces but they've been edited so all the colors are strange.

It's hard to describe.

A section of small black and white cityscapes ends abruptly and the next student's photos are all of nudes.

Everything is covered, mostly but I'm struck by how angry all of the subjects look.

I see Emmett's now, he has the large corner at the end of the first path.

"Hi, darling."

He gives me a hug and I know he doesn't mind me being here.

It makes rearranging things today more than worth it.

"Thanks for coming," he whispers into my ear.

The first picture I notice is my car.

Well, my old roadster.

The bumper and headlight is smashed in and there's no doubt that he took this right after the accident.

"You photographed this?" I ask, reaching towards it.

"Don't touch the photographs," a guard yells and I yank my hand back.

"Sorry."

Emmett just puts his hand around my waist to reassure me.

"I did. The before and after. That's the theme of my collection," he tells me.

I spend a few minutes looking at all of them and though I recognize two, the rest are all new to me.

"These are really good, Emmett. Not that I'd know but..."

"Thank you. I actually talked to a guy, he wants to buy the rights to the beach one. They supply hotels and doctor's offices, stuff like that."

He's smiling and sounds really proud of himself.

I don't know exactly what that entails but...

"Congratulations, Emmett."

I'll get my lawyers to look over whatever they send him.

"Thanks. He's talking a ridiculous amount of money for a photo. Maybe I can go down to part time at the garage and have more time to take care of you and do some photography."

"More time for photography definitely sounds good to me and I'm not gonna argue with the other part either, Emmett. I'm behind you one hundred percent, do whatever makes you happy."

My cell-phone chirps and I have to check it.

Looks like we're up and running.

"Crap, it's work. I really need to go back soon. I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I didn't expect you at all, really."

I've circled back and I'm staring at the wreck that started it all.

"At the exhibit or in your life, Emmett?"

"Both but I'm really glad you're here. Who knew that you turning on red would be such a good thing for me?"

"It was yellow," I hiss

"But you're right, it was definitely worth it... air bag trauma and all."

Someone important is trying to get his attention and I step back.

"I'm going to go. I'll take you out to dinner to celebrate."

"That sounds good...and darling?"

"Yes?"

I love when he calls me that.

I love that he does it in public.

I love that he loves every single part of me.

I'm a lucky, lucky man.

"Drive safe."

I always do.

**** THE END ****

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kakubun · 3 years

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itching hands

pairings: bonten x chubby!reader

a/n: this was supposed be for december but i'm impatient🕴

warnings: suggestive, bonten

life with bonten series

• × • × • × • × • × • × • × • × • × • ×• × • × • × • × • ×

these men will bark at you if you ever had the time to be insecure about yourself

hold on tight to your seat cause i'm sure these executives won't let you

especially these easter egg mfs, you never know what's in each of these peoples' minds

sanzu

he lets a lot of things slip from his mind and specially his comments about you

he ranges from thirsty to intense staring at any part of your body where if i say so, it's gonna be a lot more pg

eventhough he's weirdly obsessive of how you look, he means good! it's just that his lameo ass can't say or spell it out to you without sounding like a pervert

he enters your apartment in search of any of the haitani brothers to pick up their report on the last mission and maybe you so he could easily find the two since they always muted their phones when busy.

at first, he wanted to reward himself with a little something since he did a little running around here and there, why not look into your fridge? he slowly opened it because of instinct and almost fell on his knees when he saw sweet cakes topped with icing. he reached out to it as if it's begging for him to just eat it up and he drooled with how soft it looked but a grab to his wrist startled him when he looked at the person in alarm, a quirk of your eyebrows immediately lead him to explain what he's here for.

"uh searching for haitani- by the way can i eat that-" you wiped his drool that ran down his chin with a tissue hastily, in full exaggeration the bright pink haired man is an absolute sweet tooth. he finally let his eyes set on you and he looked comedic with his wide eyes when he looked down at your soft thighs in the comfy shorts you wore.

you ignored his staring and sighed, pointing to the label of the sweet cake which had rindou's name on it but you changed your mind due to said man pouting and took out the cake and peeled off the label, offering to sanzu who drooled again but he doesn't know what's his drooling for anymore (rindou can always order another cake anyways). you closed the fridge and stretched, moving into the living room to lay on the sofa.

he felt content with his dessert, all he needed was a place to sit and he just felt that the perfect place was between, between, man he couldn't help it but stare at plushiness of your thighs. he wanted to bite it.

"can i lay myself between your thighs?"

a silent staring contest was held maybe, if people were to walk in at the moment but with a smirk you patted yourself.

"go ahead darling"

after a while

"y/n did you ate my cake!?" rindou gruffly yelled out and he didn't know what did he just walked into, you brushing and massaging sanzu's head while he hums and kisses up your thighs with the empty plate near his feet and rindou massaged his temples to not drag the male between your thighs into a body bag.

but he failed so sorry sanzu.

ran walked in with an amused stare when sanzu haven't noticed them yet and y/n laughed to rindou who was starting to march up to sanzu to grab both his ankles.

ran lazily stumbled to the sofa with his legs spread while watching whatever the hell the two were doing when sanzu finally woke up from his fantasies, fly high sanzu🕊🕊

ran leaned in to whisper to you when you secretly recorded the fight, asking why you finally offered sanzu a place to lay when you didn't let him lay between when he asked you so many times. you looked over at him with your mischevious eyes and he knows damn well he needs to do more than just asking.

extra!!:

"WAAAHH Y/N THEY BULLIED ME !!" you don't if sanzu's faking his loud crying or not with tears begin to slip past his cheek when he pointed at the haitanis and rindou had no shame in admitting what he done when his older brother blinked in confusion.

you tried to hold in any chortles or laughter coming out because the pink boy had his worst when rindou bent his leg over his head while muttering how he should've killed sanzu from day one. you held out your arms and he immediately flopped you to the coach when he pushed and smothered into your scent.

the haitanis still don't why you adore that crazed man baby who likes killing people and making them confess their crimes, you said you found it really annoyingly cute that's why you had haru in your arms who nibbled on you like a baby.

just hope that the treatment with haru doesn't go on and on and you actually do something about it instead of kissing his tears away and cuddled with him.

kakucho

he feels disrespectful to how much staring he does to you on a daily basis

the way you walk, your hips popping and the curve of your hip dips makes him go crazy

he wonders if he could just hold onto your waist or just touch onto your hips, he might faint touching the roughness of your stretch marks as if he's been blessed by pure heaven

he's obsessed with how you present yourself to the others

if only he was a little more bolder, he could admire it closer if he just asked (?)

"have you taken an interest in y/n, kaku?" ran's eyes glanced at kakucho's hard staring at your crossed legs and he stopped, scoffing at ran's word but the older haitani had a plan up his sleeves.

y/n sat nearby kokonoi's table doing their own thing, looking like a sweet thing that had kakucho's glued on them that ran couldn't help pointing it out and it didn't help kakucho's poor heart when mikey suddenly interrupted the conversation.

"kakucho, please assist y/n on where's they want to go at the moment" it made kakucho perk up, startled by the sudden job of bodyguard and he looked back at ran who winked at him. no no no this isn't what he wanted, what was he planning?

it's annoying on how this puppy crush of his grew even more worse, your whole personality draws him towards you, making him feel like a kid again because of how nonchalant you are with him. he felt laidback being with you is like the calm after a storm with his work and shenanigans in bonten.

he watched from a distance when you looked over the things on your list, kakucho also gathered some of the things you wanted into a little basket and cancelling some out so you didn't have to get them anymore and you thanked him with your pretty smile.

he scanned the area around him and held himself back from punching when this one creepo think they're being sleak with how they kept eyeing you, kakucho either think he was a pick pocket or a flirt but he kept a good metres away from him to see what he was doing but he was ready to turn towards you if they got any closer.

you turned towards kakucho, waving your hand to come to you and he immediately went, feeling more pissed off towards the person creeping in on you slowly but he felt your rough palm on the skin of his wrist wrapping it around your waist. he unconsciously squeezed around you, pulling you close as he shot a nasty glare towards the person who backed off, seeing the intense look from the half blind which they didn't dare messing with.

you both walk away, heading towards the counter as you laughed behind the palm of you hand; still in position of kakucho tightly holding onto your waist where he panicked when he realized how hard he's latching onto you.

"hah~ you're so-"

still choking on your laughter, he akwardly shuffles to the side in embarassment and it added more fuel to the fire when he remembered how he held your waist and he excused himself before combusting in front of you and went away for a few seconds.

you have to say but you gotta thank ran for this plan, even if the creepo appeared out of nowhere, atleast you got to see how bonten nunber 3 reacts to his dream coming true~

kokonoi

he mostly admires you in silence and gets distracted if he ever talks to somebody

just his eyes trailing down every curve on your body and just daydreams about them (as in like cuddling pls)

the other executives would notice how his eyes are always on you in every meeting youre in and would tease him about it when you leave the room like ran would comment 'so thats where your head was this whole time hm?'

kokonoi love your pictures, he feels creepy stalking your pictures but he can't help but gush into the palm of his hand of your stunning you look, you make him faint whenever you had suprise pictures of you in dresses and he feel like his whole body is on fire.

ran taps the head of his pen to the temple of kokonoi's head and he slams his phone down and put on a poker face, it faltering when he clenched his teeth already knowing what's coming. ran sneered to how much of a simp he was and flicked the back of his head, pointing towards the door of his office; telling him any moment you're gonna come by and koko swats his hand away, knowing the haitani was just teasing him but his eyes nearly bulged out when you actually swung by.

all sleepy and dreamy like, his heart getting squeezed and the older haitani patting you towards koko who unexpectantly had you in your lap, your weight tapping him out of his daydreams as you hugged him tighter.

"my my, tired baby ain't ya?" he put on his proper poker face he got from the back of his desk, trying not to falter when you sleepily ranted on how work was terribly tiring and he patted your back shakily, not wanting to push you off due to extreme nervousness. he joked with you telling that he could just pay you easily if you work under him and you pushed his chest with your head bonk .

"ywou drhon just-mphm-hrmm" him heating up to how close with you works because he was the best heat warmer you could ask for, he felt bad for moving you to the coach but he just needed a comfortable position for you sleep in because you sitting on him? naaah, he's a puddle by the end of it.

the urge to take a picture was really strong so he took out his phone and angle his phone down to catch your drool slipping out of you and smiled feverishly to how dorky you looked.

koko felt like he could fuck up more of his feelings staring at your sleeping face, he rubbed his finger on your fat cheek you smooshed onto the coach and shifted a little in your sleep to adjust the blanket more closer to you. koko's touches were hesitant, didn't want to be a pervert when all he did was touch your soft cheek.

he wanted to just hold you close to his chest and have you against him but his prickling anxiety said otherwise, his awful thoughts and stubborness entertaining the shit out of him. you nearly give him a heart attack when one of your eyes open when he wanted to take his second picture and you latched onto his wrist. koko squawked and you couldn't help but burst out in guffaws to how panicked he looked when you caught him.

if anyone saw this scene, koko surely would die of embarassment and he'll dig his grave himself but unfortunely he will eventually when the blinking red of somebody's recording was capturing every moment of it.

haitani brothers

the duo who makes you nervous with their hard stares on you

these two are also pretty touchy so it's dangerous when they're handsy with one of your body parts

rindou are obsessed with your chubbiness, poking it just to see his finger bounce back; comedically

he loves being close with you because you're so squishy??? the type of guy who plays with your squishiness like you're a stress toy and holds himself back from biting

you're the greatest fridge or heat bag on the off days he haves, just wrapped up in blankets and you makes him sleep like a baby

as discussed earlier, ran wants to his head between your thighs; don't be suprised when one day he felt like he should get killed by them and you reject his acceptance towards death

he's a leg man and likes sleeping on your lap or kissing them or he just does anything with them (if you don't mind)

you just gotta remember these two are menaces right next to sanzu cause they'll bother you about it like forever if they can

after seeing the endless babying of sanzu, rindou turns to his brother who was lost in his thoughts and tapped his shoulder with the back of his hand. he lifted his eybrow, needing a response to how quiet he became and ran gave him a sly smile.

"you look at y/n like you wanna eat them up" ran shrugged, placing his elbow on rindou's shoulder as he slipped a comment on how he can eat y/n in other ways while rindou scrunched up in disgust. sanzu then emerged right next to rindou, telling them to give their report; damn well distracted when you started brushing and massaging his head a few moments ago.

rindou pointed towards the window, telling sanzu to fetch the files in his car while 'lightly' threatening him to buy another cake for him and the pink haired boy waved him off as if his threatening didn't give him flashbacks to how rindou almost squeezed his organs out of his ribcage when he looked at the empty plate.

when sanzu disappeared out of the house, rindou pulled you by the waist and onto his lap. squeezing your fat and kissing up your neck, he grazed a sweet spot but you swatted him telling him what's gotten into him. ran lay his head on your lap and looked like a satisfied brat when you look back at him then his brother all confused like.

rindou couldn't spare anymore time so he whispered in your ear, telling how much of a nuisance his older brother was and pleaded you to let him do what he wished to do. ran quirked his eyebrows, leaning up to kiss you while you teased him more by placing a finger on his lips.

"using your brother as a way to get me to do your thing instead of asking me in the nicest way? how cruel haitani, don't you know how torturous it is for your brother to put up with you?"

he smirks, knowing how much of a tease you were and feigned his sigh. rindou clamped his hands over this ears to not hear whatever the hell is this and tilted his head comfortably on your neck.

you shifted off rindou's lap, letting the man going after your sweet self place his head on your tummy as he happily shifts himself to a tiny nap to wait for sanzu to get back from whatever he got himself into because they could hear him shouting at the phone when he was unlocking the car door.

you looked over at rindou and placed a finger on your lips, smiling with your eyes closed when you don't want to disturb his sleeping brother in bliss.

ran just doesn't need to know rindou had his many turns sleeping with you this week compared to him~

mikey

he likes sleeping on you, his titled pillow he seeks for at the end of the day

he usually goes to you whenever he has a hard time sleeping and you try your best to advice him on how he should take care od his eyebags and weak body

he likes listening to your whispering before he goes to sleep so he asks you to talk more (command maybe)

"mikey..?"

"mph?"

"please i need to get up"

he uses your entire body as a pillow to swing his leg over ._. . from the very start, he makes you worried that you might've done or said something wrong to him but his thoughts were completely filled with how he can melt into you and be a handy pillow for him if he can't sleep easily.

to break the ice of what he thinks of you, you hummed quietly and awfully close to him on why he was staring at you but he completley dodges the question, rather he wants to show you why he's staring so he asks if he can touch you. he was uo close and personal on the first into with you but he didn't have bad intentions.. because afterwards you were legit cradling him.

sanzu was raising his eyebrows teasingly when their boss was sound asleep on your shoulder and you run your hands to his hair while glaring at sanzu to not make any noise. kakucho tried putting a straight face on but it's complelety leaving him when he heard his boss sleep talk.

he was babbling nonsense to you which you tried to reply to him but his mouth was jammed shut because there was some point where he got mad at you for not replying and sanzu was rolling on the floor and kakucho had to walk out to laugh with sanzu, dragging the pink hair out of the office. you cooed at him to relax instead of thrashing back and forth and he stopped, planting his face into your neck which makes you feel really tickled.

you're just grateful he's getting some sleep and you kissed him good night and a faint smile shows up on his face when you hugged him tight.

(and the other executives in the other room cracking up about mikey and you NSBJSBD)

akashi

he likes carrying you, stealing you away from the other executive when they're disturbing you

you can't feel insecure with this man because he was the dirtiest way with his words that he whispers to you that can turn any guy or girl red

he'll surely gouge out any prying eyes that mock or stare at you for too long

"why cat got your tongue?" your mouth agape when he was busy doing pushups on the mat and his back muscles flex even more when you came by, the smirk on his face didn't help making you flustered while you sat near him. panicking on the inside, he stopped for a water break and sat next to you.

you prayed to not shake so visibly becaue this hot ass man right now makes you lose all sense of human nature with how big he was, he placed his bottle down and shifted closer to you. bending down a little to arch his back to crack a little, he said he needed you on his back for his pushups. he can easily see the confusion you had on your face and he chuckled, getting up to begin and he usher you to start climbing on his back.

"cmonnn~ i'm strong, you're afraid i'll drop you?"

this man wanted a death wish but you think you'll die first because of how much of a tease he was, his back was kinda comfortable so you tugged on him like a koala, he called you needy and he says he's right you'll enjoy it. enjoy what exactly? too scared to ask this man because of the potential of a heart attack.

it becomes a daily thing to be honest, just having you on his back to flex off his strength that you were impressed that he didn't break and kept his composure. he held you close or carries you on his back cause he wants to, running away from the others who were fighting over you.he was a dangerous man because he could easily take your breath away with how secretive he is.

heck, i think he just did.

tag tag: @lucylicious , @turksueme , @haruchyio , @fyotituti , @coconois , @gyros-cum-sock , @ashrakat-lovesbaji , @dragon-chica

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo rev x reader #bonten x reader #bonten x you #bonten #bonten fluff #rain's bonten au #kakucho x reader #rindou x reader #ran x reader #haitani x reader #kokonoi x reader #mikey x reader #akashi x reader #sanzu x reader

783 notes · View notes

let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Bite

Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader

AU: Vampire

Word Count: ~ 5,564

Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who’ve been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜

PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I’m so proud of our girl!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Saturday, October 31st

You look like an idiot.

The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best.

A bonafide, absolute idiot.

When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.

"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out.

"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning.

"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time.

Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.

Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.

Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight.

Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!

Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else👩🤛

Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!

The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.

Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word.

"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession.

There's no way you think this one looks bad.

"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck.

"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features.

"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too."

"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."

You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter.

"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all."

"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier.

The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely…. something… and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday.

"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool.

"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend.

"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door.

"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh.

---

20 Minutes Later -- The Party

Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week.

"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday…"

"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees.

"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling."

Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests.

Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways.

*knock knock*

A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.

A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies.

Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.

Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair.

"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks.

"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again.

After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this.

"Can't… breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you.

"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here."

The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before.

"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile.

Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side.

Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes.

"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?"

Jackson.

You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down.

Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away.

But alas, she doesn't.

Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight.

For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes.

"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.

You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see."

You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality.

"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.

He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner.

"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying."

Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you.

15 Minutes Later

Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation.

In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people.

"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks.

"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party."

You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?"

"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one."

You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?"

Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me."

"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip.

PFFT

"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!"

Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks.

The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter.

"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me."

Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer.

You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets.

The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else.

You can get your own revenge.

Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them.

It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you.

After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion.

Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away.

"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes.

Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later.

Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen.

"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers.

The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her.

"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall.

Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.

Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge.

A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun.

"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are.

Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover.

Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path.

Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up.

Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you.

Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you.

Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be.

She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers.

"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!"

Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting.

Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.

Damnit. Someone's in there now.

Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath.

"What's wrong?"

There's that voice again.

Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it.

"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me."

The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like."

"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches.

"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas.

You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads.

Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little.

"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.

Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled.

Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters.

When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs.

When did that happen?

You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you.

Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you.

Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.

The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment.

She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy.

You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.

"So, um… thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her.

The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against.

"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time.

There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?

The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now.

"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly.

"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to.

"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out.

"I'm Lisa."

"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease.

"Likewise, beautiful."

The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced.

She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips.

"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing.

"That I'd love to have your body on mine again."

She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire.

You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes.

"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise.

"That sounds wonderful."

She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever.

She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.

She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close.

Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed.

Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off.

When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up.

"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors.

A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof.

"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you.

Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.

"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over.

Shit, Lisa thinks to herself.

Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away.

But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window.

You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now.

"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building.

Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations.

She does a twirl, looking around.

"It's gorgeous."

"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up.

"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company… it’s perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out.

Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms.

"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her.

She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months."

Not a total lie, she thinks to herself.

"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking.

She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains.

Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters.

"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."

"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh.

"Maybe, but it's the truth."

"Sure, Lisa."

She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms.

The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace.

The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song.

Turning Page, you recognize it as.

Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites.

Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too."

How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud…

Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it.

You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you.

"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"

She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is.

"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush"

She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly.

"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"

Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you.

"I would have known what I was living for all along"

You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second.

She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss.

Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping.

She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up.

"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck.

She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late.

Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey.

Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too.

Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her.

"Please…"

That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more.

Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go.

She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.

When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there.

Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before.

Definitely not a hickie.

Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there.

"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask.

"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.

"Same as yours," she smiles.

317 notes · View notes

writteninkat · 3 years

Text

soap | bakugou x reader

You change your body wash to the same one Bakugou uses and the fact that you smell like him has your boyfriend feeling all hot and bothered.

F!reader

Warnings: 18+

Genre: smut

Word count: 1.2k words

Author's note: first post here lol I have a bunch of ideas and I can't just sit still and not post them >_< enjoy !!!

You and the girls of A1 were all forced to move to the common room for a few minutes. The sprinklers in your guys' part of the dorms had a malfunction and maintenance had to go to each room and fix every sprinkler.

"You guys wanna eat a snack while you wait?" Sato asks, pulling out a cake from the oven. The girls' mouths began to water as a sweet aroma wafted in the air.

"Where's Y/N?" Bakugou enters the room with his same old scowl, his hands inside his pockets as he marched over to the common area where al lthe girls are.

He scans the room but the corners of his lips only tug down deeper when he doesn't see you. He huffs, turning to sit at the counter with Kirishima and Sero instead.

"She took a shower after the sprinkler broke since she says she was busy studying that she forgot to wash up," Mina explains, "she'll be out in a bit."

True to Mina's words, you finally enter the room and join in on the girls. Kirishima lightly taps a hand on Bakugou's shoulder, motioning his head to silently say 'your girlfriend's here'.

The blond's vermilion eyes scan the room, brightening when he finally sees you amongst the girls. You looked beautiful, as always. Tonight you looked fresh. You were smiling and chatting with the girls and as much as Bakugou didn't want to interrupt your fun time, he just had to hold you. He didn't get the chance to, given that today was a very busy day for the class.

"Oi, Y/N." Bakugou calls over, unintentionally making a few other heads turn to look at him with the same questioning look you have. The blond tilts his head towards a secluded area and you get the message immediately, excusing yourself from the girls.

Once in private, you don't even get the chance to speak as Bakugou pulls you into his arms, breathing in your scent. "You smell nice." He mutters, his voice muffled as he presses his lips between your shoulder and neck.

You chuckle, "I bought the body wash you use. I realized I really like the smell of it when I showered in your room the other day." Bakugou's body freezes, "So I just had to run to the store a while ago and buy myself a bottle."

"You could have just asked me for one, dumbass. I have a shit ton in my room." You chuckle again, pulling him closer for a hug. You breathe in his scent, pouting that the smell on his body is greater compared to yours. Is it because he's been using this body wash for a long time?

"Hey, dumbass." Bakugou calls out, his arms around you becoming tighter.

"Yes, love?"

"What you're wearing right now."

You look down at your clothes- pink silk pajama sets, The upper is the usual button up with a small pocket on the upper right with black accents. The pants are plain with black stripes at the end.

"I bought it last week, remember when I came back with a few bags? Mom gave me extra allowance after I told her I needed more PJ's. Why? You like it?" You ask, tilting your head to the side to get a better look at your boyfriend's face.

"It has..." his hand slowly runs down from the small of your back, to your bum, cupping both cheeks with his big hands. He pulls your body closer to him, your hips hitting his. "...very thin fabric, doesn't it, love?"

Your heart drops to your stomach at the feeling of something hard poking in between your legs. Bakugou pulls his face away from your neck, showing you just how red it was.

"Our classmates are a wall away." You whisper, moving your head from side to side to check on whether your classmates came to check on your guys or not.

"Yeah? Well I'm a hair's width away from losing my cool. You caused this, you take care of it." He pushes all the blame to you and you can actually notice how hard he's currently panting.

You let out a sigh, slowly trailing your hand down from his chest, to his stomach and finally, on the bulge of his sweatpants. Bakugou lets out sharp and shaky breaths, pressing his forehead on your shoulder as you continue to fondle his hardened member.

You smirk at your affect on the boy. He's usually so strong and brave and he just loves to put up a front, but whenever you're alone with him, everything he shows his classmates just comes crashing down and he turns into this clueless boy who doesn't know how to act properly.

"Bakugou." You whisper seductively in his ear, nibbling on it as you push your hand inside his pants. The grip he has on either side of your hips tighten, his hips rocking forward, as if begging for more of your touch.

"Shit, Y/N-"

"Shhh, we wouldn't want to get caught now, do we?" You tease him quietly, softly running your nimble fingers up and down his length. "But, ngghh-"

You press your thumb on the head of his cock, his teeth sinking softly onto your shoulder. You can feel the wetness of his precum smear all over the head of his cock.

"I said quiet." You whisper, flipping the two of you around. Now his back's on the wall as you push him against it, quickly getting on your knees.

You push the hem of his shirt up, pressing it on his lips. The look on his face- blush spread across, teary eyes and scrunched eyebrows. It has your own core dripping wet.

"Q-quickly." He whines, making you chuckle. Who knew the great Bakugou Katsuki would be begging?

You take the head of his cock in between your lips, giving it a soft kiss as you look up at him. Slowly, you begin to take half and as much of his member inside your mouth. Such a desperate baby, such a big cock.

You place your hand on his hip while the other plays with his balls, fondling them softly as to create a stimulation. Bakugou's hands busy themselves by pushing his fingers through your hair, tugging on it making you moan. The vibration caused by your voice causing Bakugou's eyes to roll back.

You bob your head several times, each time you notice how your boyfriend's hips start to buckle and shake. "Ngghh- Y/N- c-cumming.." Bakugou stutters out, bitting hard on the hem of his shirt.

You pull him out, popping the end as if it were a lollipop. You run a hand down his sculpted abs, gaining his attention. His dick is pressed beside your face as you look at him with lust-filled eyes, "cum for me, love."

That pushes Bakugou over the edge, making you chuckle. You watch him with a smirk as he shoots out hot white ropes of cum onto your hair and face and you didn't even have to do anything.

"Love," you fake a pout, "I had just finished showering."

Bakugou pulls out his phone from his pocket, smirking as he open the camera app. He takes a picture of you and how dirty you look right now, on your knees, cumm all over your face and hair while you wear a sheer silk pajama set that shows off a good outline of your hardened nipples.

Once he has enough pictures for himself, he pockets his phone back and pulls you up to your feet. "Then why don't you shower in my room. After all, you like the scent of my soap so much, don't you?"

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johnsamericano · 3 years

Text

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥 •2•

Hi hi! I'm back with another chapter. This one might not be as good(?, it's a really fluffy chapter so bear with me.

warnings: sugar daddy jae, he's a big baby, tooth rotting, kinda long.

sugar rush m.list.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv @sunny-nyu @nanascupid @silent-potato

“Sir, there’s a girl asking to see you.”

“Hey, I’m not a girl!” He chuckled as his finger pressed the button to communicate with his secretary.

“Let her in.”

Only a few seconds later, your head was peeking through his door.

“I brought you coffee.” You extended your hand out, showing him the carton containing two iced drinks. “Are you busy?”

“Not at all, come in.” You sat on the elegant, individual sofa in front of him, his desk serving as a separation. “Are you here to spy on me? Don't you trust me with your father's case?” He pouted, typing something in his keyboard while your palms started sweating.

How could you not trust the man with the highest case winning index in the whole country?

Briefly, after your encounter with the other lawyer, you'd googled him as well as his company. Because of his incredibly high fees, he didn't have many clients, but those few who had enough money to cost him were almost assured to be on the winning side. So then, why hadn't an excellent lawyer like him popped up when you'd first looked for popular firms? Simple, he wasn't popular.

Just like a hidden gem, only a few had the pleasure to know Yoonoh, and you felt beyond grateful for paying that stupid membership weeks ago.

“No, no!” You were quick to defend yourself, frantically shaking your hands to support your previous statement. “Just wanted to be of help.”

Truth to be told, after receiving your first weekly allowance, an unsettling feeling had been squeezing your heart ever since. Call it guilt or whatever, but it didn't set right to be receiving si much help from him when you hadn't had the chance to do anything in return. The least you could do was trying to be polite.

“You shouldn't be spending your money on me. I'm the one supposed to spoil you, remember?” He grabbed the plastic container by the lid, sipping the bitter liquid with an amused smile. “But thank you.”

“I paid my rent yesterday.” You blurted out, trying to avoid the uncomfortable silence threatening to settle between the two of you. “And I still have money left to save for my father's hospital bills, maybe even buy a present for my aunt.”

He admired how noble you were, making sure those around you had enough before even thinking to do something for yourself.

“I have a party this Friday, would you like to attend with me?” Your presence wasn't required as it wasn't a big event, but by the look in your eyes, he knew you were itching to do something in return for his kindness.

“Yes, of course!” Your orbs sparkled with excitement, finally feeling yourself useful.

“If you don't mind waiting, we can go buy something for you to wear right after I finish with this.” For what seemed like the tenth time in less than ten minutes, small beads of sweat rolled down the back of your neck. Thank God he wasn't able to see them. “Oh, come on, don't give me that look!”

“You’ve already done so much for me. I can buy the clothes myself, don't worry.” With a deep sigh, Yoonoh rose from his chair, taking long strides to surround the desk separating you. “W-what are you doing?” Now kneeling on the floor beneath you, his face was dangerously close to yours, coffee breath crashing against your nose.

“Using mind control to convince you to let me take you out.” He stared at you for a couple more seconds before saying: “Is it working?”

“I think your mind control is broken.” You whisper, unable to hold back the small giggles bubbling at the back of your throat.

“How about now?” He batted his eyelashes, trying to act cute despite his bold features. You shook your head.

Just as you thought it was over, his hand went up to cup your jaw, his thumb drawing uneven figures on the ticklish skin.

“How about now?” He repeated. You stammered, unsure of what to say. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” Aware of your awkwardness and the rising heat in your cheeks, he stood up, walking back to his chair. “But I do want to get you something, would you let me?”

With your mind busy and your guard low, you nodded, unaware of the silly smile on his face.

“I have a few novels on my shelf in case you want something to kill time.”

“Thank you.” You moved to the huge bookshelf facing his desk, grateful your face wasn't visible anymore.

The books were ordered by genre and size, starting from the biggest law-related textbooks to pocket-sized novels, ending with the smallest one he had. The little prince.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Yoonoh didn't seem to be the type to read that kind of heartbreaking yet beautiful book. Nonetheless, as many said, you can't judge a book by its cover.

An hour or two later, you were halfway into the first book of flowers in the attic, immersed in the small world the author had created. Yoonoh had finished his work a few minutes before, but distracting you when you were reading so vividly, seemed like a crime. He enjoyed the way your eyebrows would knit together every time something shocking happened, clearly too immersed in the novel to notice his intense gaze.

“Y/n...” He whispered once he noticed you were starting a new chapter. You blinked twice, hands clutching the book tightly as you noticed he had finished his work. “You can take it home, don't worry.”

“Sure?” He flashed his pretty dimples as his eyes turned into half-moons.

“You can come back for the rest of the saga when you finish this one. Take as many books as you please, I’ve already read them all.”

“Thank you.” Another act of kindness you had no way of returning. His favors just seemed to be piling up before you could even return any. “Would you like to have dinner with me today? I'm a great cook, or so did my father said.” You blurted out quickly, twisting your hands nervously as you waited for an answer.

“I’d love to. But I might have to attend some work calls if you don't mind.”

“I don't, maybe I'll even have time to bake a cake while you're at it.” God, how bad he wanted to take a picture of that adorably nervous smile.

“Great, so it's settled. Dinner at your place after we go shopping.” He had already put his blazer on, offering his arm to guide you out. With shaky fingers and sweaty armpits, you grabbed it, walking by his side with his secretary’s gazed glued on you. So much for a girl, huh?

Once seated in his car, with the book resting on your lap, you allowed yourself to relax. Yoonoh wasn't a bad person, on the contrary, he was very kind, so there was no use in keeping your guard up when he was around.

“Ready to roll?” You cringed at his use of slang, making him drop his head back to laugh. “What? Isn't it a thing you cool young adults say?”

“Maybe twenty years ago, Yoonoh.” It was the very first time you used his name so informally, and, oh how good it felt to hear you saying it?

“Fine, I won't use it anymore.” He poked your arm like a little child, and for a moment, you wondered if he was actually more than a decade older.

Several bad jokes, two dresses, and a quick stop at the grocery store later, you arrived at your apartment. Yoonoh held everything while you entered the passcode, struggling not to drop a can of vegetables that was starting to bend the edge of the paper bag.

“Ready, hand me something.” You both entered with your hands packed with different things. You went to your room to leave the new dresses while Yoonoh set the paper bags down on the kitchen counter.

“So...” He clapped loudly. “What are we cooking?”

“I bought the ingredients for lasagna. Is that okay with you?” He nodded, lips pressed and dimples in display. “Alright, let's do this.”

It would've been of great help if Yoonoh had told you he didn't know how to cook. But of course, part of the fault was yours for not noticing when he tried to add ketchup to the recipe.

“I burnt it.” He looked at the semi-carbonized pasta with disgust, feeling ashamed of having ruined your dish. “Let’s just throw it away and order something.” He was about to touch the hot container until your grip on his wrist halted his movements.

“We just pulled it out of the oven.” You shook your head in disbelief at the man standing in front of you.

“Sorry.”

Despite Yoonoh’s endless complaining, you ate the lasagna. The flavor wasn't that bad when you scratched off the burnt parts, especially when accompanied by a cold glass of wine.

“It’s not that bad.” You repeated over and over again. A phone call interrupted him from self-pitying any further. “Go on, take it.” You continued eating while he spoke in the living room.

It wasn't until a couple of minutes later that you realized he was whisper yelling at whoever was on the other line. It was your first time seeing him angry, and you didn't like it one bit. The way his face turned completely stoic, his eyes cold as his hand rested on his hip. Sweet, caring, Yoonoh was gone.

“I told you I needed it for today.” He said through gritted teeth. “You better get it before I arrive back at the office, or you can find yourself another job.” Even after he hung up, Yoonoh stood in the middle of the shared area, clutching his phone so tightly, it seemed like it would break any minute.

You wanted to ask if everything was alright, if he needed any help, but most importantly, if the things he needed were related to your father's case, but all the words stuck to your throat like insects in a spider web.

“I need to go.” He simply said, not even bothering to fake a smile. “Thank you for dinner, I'll see you on Friday.” With his free hand, he grabbed the coat hanging from his chair and left, slamming the door on his way out.

Was that the real Yoonoh?

A shiver ran down your spine. What had you gotten into? From what you'd seen, it was only about time he would show his true self to you as well.

All the trust you'd built up during the day, had crumbled down in a matter of seconds. The worst part? You didn't even feel entitled to be scared, not after all he'd done for you.

‘Just keep your distance.’ You repeated like a mantra as you got ready for bed, leaving the book you'd borrowed right where he'd left it, afraid it would burn your fingertips even with the slightest touch.

(...)

The week wasn't nearly as long as you'd wanted it to be, and soon enough, you were struggling to zip the dress you'd bought days ago. Your makeup was done, and Yoonoh had texted you he was on his way, yet, you'd been fighting with the zipper for at least ten minutes. Your fingers were cramping, and the clock was ticking.

Just when you'd finally started to drag the small piece of metal, the doorbell startled you, causing you to let go of it.

“Fuck!” Have you ever felt so desperate that tears start pricking your eyes? Well, that was the exact case happening at the moment.

You opened the door with the salty water collecting at the corner of your eyes, surprising Yoonoh, who was wearing his best dimply smile.

“What’s wrong?” He had a bouquet poorly hidden behind his back, probably to apologize for the night he abruptly left and almost knocked down your door.

“I-I can't zip up my dress.” Your voice came out shaky, giving away the emotions burning your gut. Thankfully, Yoonoh didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't mention it.

“I’ll help you.” He, not-so-discretely, put down the bouquet, gently turning you around to your discomfort. His cold hands touched your back as he dragged the zip up, noticing how tense you were but deciding not to comment on it. “Oh! You haven't moved the book from where I left it.”

“I haven't had time to read.” He hummed, crouching to reach for the bouquet and hand it to you. “Thank you.”

“It’s my way of apologizing for the fit I threw a couple of days ago.” A fit? That was one way to call it.

“It’s okay.” You lied as you pushed the corners of your lips to form a credible smile. “Let’s get going.”

The flowers were left on the kitchen counter before you left. The ride in the elevator was awfully quiet, and Yoonoh had no idea what had happened. You were so chatty the last time he saw you, so of course, he was taken aback by the sudden change.

“It’s not going to take long, so we can head out for some drinks later if you'd like...” You nodded, for you knew speaking would only expose your discomfort. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah! Just nervous about the party, that's all.”

You stood by Yoonoh’s side for the rest of the evening, smiling and nodding at his acquaintances’ comments. At one point in the evening, a man, not much older than you, approached you both with a wide smile.

“Dude, I hadn't seen you in ages. Stop sending your workers and come see me yourself.” They hugged. Why were they hugging?

“Y/n, this is my brother, Sungchan.” The man with puppy-like eyes embraced you tightly, almost as if welcoming you to his family. “Sungchan, this is y/n, my girlfriend.” He said it so naturally, it’d take a detective to figure out the truth about your relationship.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. I'm sorry for your father. But don't worry, we'll take those bastards down.”

“I’m not following...” You blinked repeatedly, eyes going back and forth between Yoonoh and his brother.

“Sungchan is a doctor. I asked him to look at your father's case for further evidence. My assistant was supposed to pick up the report the day we had dinner, but she forgot to drop by. Now we’re a day behind schedule.” The dark cloud surrounding him seemed to be slowly dissipating as you heard his explanation. “This is an important case, and I want to be as meticulous as possible.”

Thank you didn't seem the right thing to say at the moment, at least not with Sungchan standing there, so you simply grabbed his hand, squeezing it to let him know how grateful you were.

To your surprise, he didn't even flinch as he locked your hands together, causing a small giggle from Sungchan.

“Okay, love birds, I'll get going.” He waved you goodbye, making his way to another table where his friend waited for him.

“Can we talk?” You whispered in his ear, afraid one of the numerous attendants would hear you.

“Sure.” Without letting go of your hand, he drove you to a small, private garden just outside the ballroom. “Are you gonna tell me what's wrong now?” His thumb caressed your knuckles with gentle strokes.

“I’m so sorry.”

“What for?”

“I pushed you away at the minimum trouble when you were only helping me.” He hummed as if he already knew about it. “And it will probably happen again, so please, be patient with me. I'm going through-” Your face collided against his chest as his arms draped over your shoulders, squeezing you tightly.

“Call me reckless, but I've wanted to do this for a while.” Your hands hung at the sides of your torso, unsure what to do next. “You can push me away, I'll understand...”

Instead, your palm found its place in his back, rubbing up and down the designer jacket. Your hair started turning messy from the night breeze, some strands striking Yoonoh’s chin as his embrace only grew tighter.

“Let’s get out of here.” He mumbled, crawling the back of your head with his hand. “Sungchan can deal with my father's friends.”

“Are you sure?” His hum vibrated through his chest, making you giggle at the odd feeling.

Once seated in his car, his hand found yours like a magnet, the warmth emanating from it comfortably enveloping your skin.

The calmness of the atmosphere was interrupted by a call from his brother, who seemed to be anxiously explaining something through the phone.

“Just tell him I had a work emergency.” With that said, he hung up, placing his hand back again on top of yours. “Sorry, he said it was urgent.”

“It’s okay.” An unsettling feeling pinched your stomach, but you decided to dismiss it, immersed in the chilly weather of the dark streets.

You arrived at the river, where Yoonoh asked you to wait for him while he bought a couple of beers. It was a sight to see, both of you clad in fancy clothes, barefoot and chugging down can after can.

“I think I like being with you.” You declared, mind fuzzy from the alcohol intake.

“I think I like it too.” The tips of his ears were rosy, revealing he was as intoxicated as you, maybe even more.

“Would you like to visit my father with me tomorrow?” The words flew out of your mouth before you could even realize. Afraid you'd killed the mood, you tried to excuse yourself, only to be interrupted by his lips grazing your ear, placing a timid kiss on your lobe.

“I’d love to.” It was the sweetest peck, no ulterior motives behind it, just pure affection.

“Are we going too fast?” In your drunken state, what you had felt like a real relationship, not a simple agreement. And this sure felt like a first date.

“We’re moving at our own pace, I believe.” He dropped his head on your shoulder, pressing against it to relieve the dizziness clouding his mind. “Are you okay with that? Maybe you don't want to be with an old creep like me, and I'd totally get it. Just don't let me get my hopes up if that's the case.”

“You might be old, but definitely not a creep.” Your fingers combed through his abundant hair as your mind wandered into the future, grateful for the fact that he wouldn't become bald soon. “Or are you?”

“I don't think so.” Anyone who walked by would've seen a couple of goofs, too intoxicated to talk without slurring the words, but you were living in your own, comfy bubble. “I should get you home before it gets too late. Come on, I'll call a driver.” He tried getting on his feet to no avail, stumbling back a little before falling back on his ass.

“My apartment is nearby. You can stay for the night.” You grabbed both pairs of shoes as his arm surrounded your shoulder for assistance. “If you keep supporting your whole weight on me, we're both gonna fall.” People on the street shot you a couple of funny looks, which was understandable since it wasn't usual to see two drunk idiots walking barefoot in the middle of the night.

“How long till-” Hiccup. “-we get there?” His stare seemed to worsen with every step. “God, I think I might throw up.”

“Stop acting like a teenager, we're almost there.”

As soon as you arrived at the small apartment, you sat him down on the little step where you changed your shoes. You left both pairs on the rack, proceeding to put on slippers to enter the house.

“Don’t leave me here!” He whined, stomping his feet like a little kid.

“Just wait for a second!” His attitude was starting to get on your nerves to the point where you couldn't feel the effects of the beer anymore.

You grabbed a rag from the kitchen cabinet and dampened it under the sink. Yoonoh was half asleep when you walked back to him.

“My head hurts.” He mumbled as you sat in front of him, placing his left foot on your lap. “What are you doing?”

“I don't have any slippers that will fit you, and I don't want your dirty feet making my house dirty.” With utmost delicacy, you wiped away the dirt from his toes, noticing the small scratches caused by the gravel he walked on.

He touched your hair while you finished with his other foot, tangling the strands with fascination.

“Done, get up.”

He followed your indications as you guided him to your room, where you laid him down on his side in case he threw up.

“Are we visiting your father tomorrow?” He asked while snuggling under the covers.

“Sure.” You cleared his forehead from the strands falling in it, grazing the soft skin of his forehead. “Sweet dreams, gigantic baby.”

#nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct angst #nct fluff #nct jaehyun #nct jung yoonoh

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bluecookies02 · 4 years

Text

Dabi x Reader- cûm soaked silk

Summary: You're the league's relatively new addition, during a fight Dabi saves you, immediately catching your attention and clouding your mind. Eventually after a row of success the league organizes a party and Dabi comes over so the two of you can prepare.

Warnings: cum play, creampies ,throatfucking, light alcohol consumption, pinning, panties theft.

/masterlist/

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Here you are once again waking up at 2 in the afternoon. With a quick stretch and desperate grasp for consciousness, you feel the familiar pain of a long night spent gathering supplies and fighting the trash that calls themselves heroes.

Thankfully, it was a night full of victories for the LOV so the pride you feel is stronger than the strain on your tired body. In everything you remember from last night, one moment sticks out so clear that you can't help but blush and let a smile escape the corner of your lips.

"A little danger looks good on you."

That was the most Dabi had said to you since you joined the League. A small-time hero aimed their quirk at you and your heavily scarred teammate was quick to throw you against the nearest wall, his body covering yours. There was nothing but anger in your heart and a lust for blood painted on your face until your eyes met his stunning blues.

All it took was those few words from his all too calm voice and that lazy, lustful look from his heavy-lidded eyes...you were hooked. With a final stretch, you tried to shake him from your mind.

Freshly showered and with coffee in hand, you grabbed your phone off of the nightstand. You skimmed your missed messages to get an idea of the day ahead of you. Nothing unusual. Some blood-soaked selfies from Toga, early morning ramblings from Twice, a short but thoughtful message from Kurogiri thanking you for your efforts last night, and a lackluster message from your boss inviting you to attend a gathering at the LOV hideout for a few drinks and to officially welcome you into the fold.

Well, at least you had something besides a mission to look forward to. You'd been wound so tight for months doing everything you could to help the league and uphold Stain's ideals. You needed tonight. Besides, he might be there. Before you had the chance to shame yourself for letting him back into your thoughts, your phone rang. An unknown number.

You got out a sleepy, half-hearted, "Hello," before you heard it. That honey-coated voice that caused a chill to run the length of your spine before his warmth washed over you.

"I see our crusty leader is throwing you a party. That's quite a surprise. So when are we going?"

Like always, he was so matter of fact. So sure of himself and set in his intentions. As much as his words made you want to melt into the floor, he said a little danger looked good on you, right? Fine. Then you would live dangerously.

You caught your breath before meeting his cool tone with your own subtlely beckoning statement. "Why don't you come over and we'll discuss it over a drink? If you've got my number, I'm sure getting my address should be just as easy for you." He let out a chuckle, wicked and low.

"See you in an hour dollface."

With that, you both hung up. Your heart was going to implode. What had you gotten yourself into? You bit your lip and smiled. It took no time for you to pick out the perfect outfit. No worn-out villain clothes tonight. No. This called for something exceptional.

A little black dress, some thigh high stockings, and the perfect lace lined lingerie would get you more than just a passing glance from the stapled stud you had set your sights on. As you laid the outfit neatly on the edge of your bed, it hit you. "Shit." Your alcohol-fueled stress relief had left your house completely dry. Whatever.

Fashionably late with a bottle in hand seemed better than facing this man without a little liquid courage. A quick text and you were out the door. "Heading out for a bit. Give me 30. Let yourself in and get comfortable."

Getting your address was simple. He was a man on a mission and after last night, he had a hunger. Saving you was the first thing on his mind during yesterday's battle. You were reckless and he could relate to you. A woman with convictions was his weakness. In a world full of fake meaning, your passion was as fiery as his quirk and he wanted more. Needed more of you.

The thoughts that crossed his mind after pinning you to that wall were less than noble. He wanted to feel you, to sink his teeth into your soft flesh. God he hoped you were a fighter behind closed doors too. Maybe he could overpower you.

He wondered if you knew how much you had him worked up and if you were just as desperate for a release as he was. Before he knew it, he was at your front door. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

"Get comfortable? Alright, doll. Let's see what you're all about."

He was surprised upon entering your apartment.

"Pretty classy place for such a reckless fighter. What are you hiding in here, little miss?"

He was eager to get to know you better. He couldn't simply flop onto the couch and kick his feet up. He knew you were more than a simple yet dedicated member of the league. You had dirty little secrets somewhere and he was out to find them. A few unlabeled pill bottles in the bathroom, empty champagne bottles in the kitchen...nothing too out of the normal considering your line of work.

When he finally made his way into your room, it was as well put together as the rest of your flat. He sifted through your nightstands and found...nothing. He let out a little sigh of defeat and sat next to a small pile of clothes on the bed. Running his hands under your pillows in a last ditch effort, he finally found something.

"So you are a naughty girl. You don't disappoint after all."

His wicked smirk was a sight to see as he held your toy in his hand. He had seen these before in a questionable marketplace. So he knew two things for sure; you had taste and he wanted you even more now. He'll make you forget you even own that little toy.

He was praying that this was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to your kinks. He made a mental note and tucked the vibrator back under your pillow.

He moved his attention to the outfit you had delicately placed across the mattress. If that was what you were planning to wear tonight then you knew exactly what you were doing to him. He could imagine the way that tiny dress would hug your curves and tease him with glimpses of all the places of your body he wanted to devour.

The fishnets were a filthy addition and he might let you keep those on while he had his way with you someday. His thoughts continued to spiral and he could feel his growing erection pressing uncomfortably against his jeans.

That's when he saw them. There they were. Those perfect, lacey little panties. His hunger for you hit primal levels as he grabbed your panties off the bed and tugged at the hem with his teeth. His free hand was already rubbing his aching cock through his pants as he imagined sliding those panties over and letting himself inside you.

Oh, the sweet moans you would make. How would his name sound when it rolled off your tongue as you begged for him to wreck you? He knew you wouldn't be back for another 20 minutes and he couldn't hold out any longer.

He made quick work of laying back on your bed and freeing his now rock hard cock from its clothed cage. He grabbed the black silk panties and wrapped them firmly around his base as he began pumping and stroking.

He bit his lower lip at the electric feeling taking him over. He was a man possessed and he would get his release by any means necessary. The veins along his shaft were throbbing as he thought of you all dolled up and desperate for him. He wanted to know how you would look on your knees ready and waiting for him. He could almost feel your hips gripped tightly in his hands as he imagined ruthlessly hammering every inch into you. His deviant thoughts and the feeling of your panties sliding sweetly along his length was an intoxicating combination. His other hand reached for his heavy balls, massaging them, trying his best to spoil himself for the remaining time he had.

All it took was the thought of your pussy gripping and welcoming him inside you with that black lace causing the perfect amount of friction between your swollen lips, clinging desperately for that pathetic amount of friction-... He couldn't help himself. Thick, hot ropes of cum were coating the cotton lining of your panties, his release overflowing and pulling all the way to the base of his cock.

He milked out the last few drops and watched as they soaked into the thin fabric.

Well, this would either get him kicked out of your flat or he would get the confirmation he needed that this overwhelming lust was mutual. All he knew was that he needed a drink.

With perfect timing, you returned home with a bottle in each hand just as he had placed the underwear back onto the bed and got himself situated on the couch as though nothing had happened.

Your heart almost skipped a beat. You assumed he would show up so that was no surprise. What you hadn't planned for was just how good he would look; the track lighting of your apartment showcasing him like a work of art. He looked so comfortable, so natural sprawled out on your furniture. Like he had always belonged there. This was your home but his presence filled the place. Fuck, what you would give for him to fill you instead. Before you could fall even deeper down that rabbit hole of attraction, he greeted you as only he would.

"So are you gonna pour us a drink or are those just for show?"

You felt the heat rise in your face and you could only imagine the color of your cheeks as he let his eyes work their way from the whiskey in your hands to the rest of your body. "Sure thing. Gimme a sec. And I said to get comfortable, not scuff up my table with your big dirty boots, ass." His little laugh was warm and kind despite your attitude. A few drinks, some light conversation, a couple of shared nervous laughs and glances...before you knew it, it was getting late. A nice buzz enveloped you as you excused yourself.

"Not so fast, doll. Where do you think you're going?"

The look in his eyes made you weak. You couldn't tell if it was the slow burn of the whiskey or the equally smoldering quality in his tone that made you blush. "Sorry, blue eyes. I gotta go get ready. You don't want me missing my own welcome party, do you? Behave while I go get dressed," you giggled. That laugh, innocent and a clear give away to your inebriation, was enough to cause his desire to come bubbling over.

He was one sip of whiskey past the point of being calm and he needed you. He quickly made his way behind you, grabbing your hips and leaning in to whisper in your ear...

"You should know by now, behaving is not something I do, hopefully, you can behave like a pretty little thing you are. Now let's get into that cute little room of yours and you're going to get changed. Slip out of those clothes and give me a nice show."

With those words, he gave your neck a few light kisses making sure to let his lips trail your skin before pushing you lightly towards the room. You were a warm mix of goosebumps and giggles. You were going to give this man anything he asked for, do everything that left his mouth before even finishing his sentences.

This was happening and you wondered why it hadn't happened sooner. The look in his eyes was ravenous and you were ready and willing to let him feast. The second you both made your way into the bedroom, your body was against the wall; his own body covering yours once more. This time, however, there was no battle, no rush, and the only dangerous thing in the room was the man staring you down with lust in his eyes and whiskey on his tongue.

You began unbuttoning your blouse and it was as if he couldn't pepper your skin with kisses fast enough. His lips worked every inch that was exposed as you tilted your head back and practically ripped your shirt the rest of the way off. The blouse fell behind you as Dabi's teeth lightly grazed your neck.

His left hand made its way up to the clasp on the front of your bra. He looked down unhooking it with ease as your breath hitched in your lungs. He let his lips and tongue playfully work down from your neck to your now exposed breasts. His bottom lip was about to glide over your nipple when he suddenly stopped and looked at you with that wicked half-smile.

He grabbed your chin and pulled you in for a passionate kiss. His original intention was to make it quick but the two of you were swept away in the burning taste of cheap whiskey and overwhelming desire. His arms wrapped around your waist as your hands softly glided through his hair and over his scarred cheek.

With a final soft bite to your bottom lip, he pulled away. "Is everything okay?" The aura about him had changed to something far more dominant and primal.

"I said put on a show, babe. So let's see it."

He sat back on the bed as he looked over your figure. You couldn't tell if his stare was more anticipatory or predatory but either way, you were soaked and dying for his skin against yours. You turned around and looked back at him with a dark and coy smirk before facing away.

You slid your hands down your body until they made their way to the zipper on the back of your skirt. As the small metal tab fell, Dabi bit his lip and felt something else rise up. You placed your hands on the wall above your head and spread your legs lightly.

You gave your hips a little shake and the skirt fell to the floor. Turning around to face him, you ran your thumbs across your hips and into the waistband of your panties. You teasingly lowered them barely an inch. His eyes lit up. That's when you snapped the band and let the panties back up. Slinking towards him, you placed yourself between his legs with your arms around his neck. "I think you should take these off...Don't want to have all the fun to myself."

"I thought you'd never ask, babe. But you'd look better in these. Why don't we change things up a bit?"

With that, he picked up the little black panties from the outfit laid out on your bed. You blushed. Now you were wondering what else he had seen. As you took them from his hand, you noticed something felt off about them. Your fingers slid across the slick and sticky substance that was still warm. Suddenly it hit you and felt your own temperature rise. "Dabi did you..."

"I said...put them on....go on."

His voice was deceptively calm but inside he was on a one-way track and there was no stopping him tonight. His cock was literally aching to be inside and the thrill of seeing you slide those panties on, getting you nice and coated with his cum before he had even entered you; It drove him right over the edge.You shyly slipped off your panties and began to put the others on. You stopped with them about halfway up. "Babe, I dunno. Is this really...."

"Looks like you need a little help."

Before you could blink, he had come right up to you and pulled the cum soaked panties the rest of the way up. You barely had time to catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of his lips so close to you when he began to run his fingers over your clothed slit and press his still warm fluids closer inside you. When he heard a small moan escape your lips and felt the silk against his fingers go from dampened by his own doing to soaked with your juices, he knew he had you.

He let his fingers slide past the fabric and past your folds trailing his sticky cum along them. He dipped two fingers into your cunt, pushing his cum into you, picking up the gushing out liquid each time it dared to drip out of you.

With just two minutes of that, he was throbbing and you were crying out, begging to feel him inside you, begging to get a fresh coat of cum in your greedy pussy.

"All fours, on the bed...Now."

With a firm slap to your ass, you did just as you were told. Only, he didn't get behind you like you were expecting. No. After quickly undressing himself, he stood before you hard and ready. Your jaw dropped and you were about to tell him how bad you needed it but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes.

"You're gonna be a good girl and get me nice and wet before I let you feel this cock filling you up and stretching that pretty pink pussy of yours. Do you understand?''

You nodded as he moved his hand to the back of your head and the other to the base of his cock. He guided you forward and you let your tongue gingerly trace the veins of his shaft before wrapping your lips around. With every pulse of his hips, you would play with his tip and graze it with your soft tongue before taking him all the way into the back of your throat.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back. A few expletives left his lips as you let out soft moans and began to drool, his length becoming a bit too much to handle. Your mouth became a sloppy mess, his cock twitching each time your throat tightened around him. He could feel himself getting warmer and dizzier, the sight of you splattering around his length, your eyes watery and your hands struggling to keep you up made it unbearable for him to hold for much longer.

You can feel the mess dripping onto the sheets as you rub your thighs together.

He slides out of your mouth with a small pop and runs his thumb across your lips glistening with spit. The look you gave each other said enough as you arched your back and he made his way behind you.

His earlier fantasy was becoming a reality as he put one hand firmly on your hip and used the other to slide his tip up and down your warm and aching lips. He let go of both just long enough to grip the sides of your panties and burn them clean off. He yanked away the remaining fabric and lined himself up with your quivering entrance.

"Is this what you want, gorgeous? Hm? Do you need it?"

"Yes! Please Dabi! Fuck! I need it.C'mon.Please." And with your final desperate cries...he did just that. His every inch slid into you just right. His cock twitched as soon as he bottomed out, his hips jerking into you out of instinct.

He was the only man you knew who could pound your pussy so ruthlessly while his hands still explored your body so sweetly. it was intoxicating, addictive. You needed more. You needed him. Despite him holding your hips down, you managed to sway your hips just right, meeting his thrusts one by one.

He watched you gasp and loose balance, dropping on your forearms as you buried your head into the cushion. He admired the way your pussy took him so well, his cock disappearing all the way in and then coming back out. He was hazed, forgetting how much time passed as he plowed in and out of you, the intoxicating rhythm putting a strain on his muscles as he couldn't have it in him to slow down.

You were a teary mess, whines and cries coming from your sore throat as you begged for him to make you cum.

With another hard slap across your ass and more praise for the way you took him so well...that was it. You couldn't take it anymore. He was pounding that spongey spot just right and his hands were sending shivers through you. You couldn't hold back anymore and he could tell. You were clenching down on him as he continued to slide in and out. He grabbed you by the waist, towering over your back as he held your body flush to his.

His pace deep and more meaningful, his cock dragging along your velvety walls that were squeezing him of every drop he had left. The feeling of him throbbing as his warm cum painted your insides white threw you over the edge, your legs shaking as he continued with small ruts into your shivering cunt.

You were breathless, smiling, and spent. To your surprise, so was he. His blue eyes half lidded and his breathing ragged.

He carefully slid out of you and you both fell back into the mattress. After taking a moment to appreciate his sweat sheened body you sheepily asked, "Soooo...about the party...?"

"Yeah, yeah. It was great, wasn't it? Now shut up and come here," he said teasingly, welcoming you into his arms.

You're not sure when you fell asleep with your head on his chest or how you ended up with this man in your bed but you were happy to sleep in that day, your body already hooked on the warmth of his embrace, begging for it to not be just for this one night.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

So that was a wild ride, the backstory about this one is kinda long but i'll keep it as short as possible.

One day this lady jumped into my dm's (a few moths ago) requesting a Dabi x Reader x Overhaul fic.

Hovewer I didn't exactly get to it yet, but we continued talking throughout the months, her mentioning how she would love to start writing but was too scared of messing something up.

So we came up with a rough idea about dabi jerking off in the reader's panties and it went uphill from there!! Drafts and drafts, massages and thirsts we collabed on this and ended up with this little 4k word thing. So taking all of this into consideration, if you liked this spicy fic go give a follow to @issamomma the mentioned lady and a wonderful woman and now my dear friend.

Like,comment and reblog with ideas you might want the two us to collab on again. Hope you loved it and enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed writing it.

___________

requests:closed

commissions:open

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#dabi x reader #dabi x reader lemon #dabi #dabi lemon #bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #villan x reader #bakugou x reader #shigaraki x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #bakugou #my hero academia #mhafanart #myheroacademia

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

The Dark Team (part 13)

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>

(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman, @idontknow296, @beksib, @spythoschei, @geekwritersworld, @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 @toe-vind-ek-jou @joscelyn02, @t00-pi, @irwxnhugsx )

Warnings: creepy man, hungover (alcohol mentions), abduction mentions.

Chirping birds woke you up as the light hit your face. It was a slightly sunny morning, you could see. A cold one, too. Your head ached; yesterday’s wine was stronger than you’d think. You remembered very little, and the hangover weighed on your feet as you tried to stand up. Soon, that weight redistributed up to your head, dizziness almost throwing you back in bed.

With much more effort than before, you got up and walked slowly to the kitchen, glancing around. Last night, a sticky kid fell asleep on the doorframe. You chuckled and decided to not wake him up. Loki was nowhere to be found; must be sleeping in his own room, if he had one by then.

An ibuprofen and some cold water later, you checked the time. It was so early; six in the morning. You decided to get working already; maybe someone on the team was awake. If not, you could at least take things off your to-do list for the day and get time free at noon to play videogames with Peter, or help him with that Lego Stark Tower he has been trying to build for almost two weeks now. A nice walk in the park to get some fresh air until some coffee shop opened; that’s what you needed.

The streets were emptier than you’d imagine, and then you realized it was saturday. Peeping in, a coffee shop next block was already opening, and people were lining up to get in. You made sure to have brought money and a laptop with you, and as you reached your pockets you realized you had your suit on, under normal clothes. Well, at least I’m prepared for anything now. Even a sunday morning in a lovely coffee shop, you thought, laughing to yourself. If Tony saw you like this, he’d recall that word he says you inherited from him. Paranoid. But no, Stark, I’m just hungover. Good to know your first instinct once you get up off bed is to suit up. Tony'd be proud. And a little disappointed, too.

You got a table far from the window, wall behind your back making sure nobody could eye your laptop. Once you were settled in and your coffee was getting cold, you started working. You were so glad you were out of the public eye, so you could afford yourself all of these outside activities. Sounded stupid, but if you were to have dinner with Sam, or Steve, or Thor, you’d have to also deal with paparazzis all night long. Actually, in dining out with Thor, paparazzis would be the least of your problems.

“Hey”, greeted Bucky from the other line. “It’s so early, what are you doing up?”.

“Buck, it’s already ten”.

“Oh”, he said, and you heard a sliding curtain by his side. “Oh, there it is. Sunlight”.

“Why are your times all twisted?”.

“We stayed up until five”.

“Doing what?”.

“Let’s say the mini bar was not so mini”.

“Oh my God”, you laughed, and checked for your work on the laptop. “At this point, I think the only one who didn’t get drunk last night is Spidey. Ah. Listen, I’ve arranged today’s plan, and it has to go right or else you can get abducted again. And we don’t want that, okay?”.

“I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do now. Didn’t we already get the stick?”.

“That’s the point, there’s more… you know, bottles hanging around” you lowered your voice. The coffee shop was almost empty, but just in case, you kept it under your breath. “That’s why you gotta get into Hydra’s last base again. Do not go alone”.

You instructed Bucky and then he tried his best to put you on speaker to the rest of the team, but failed. None of them could actually figure out how to do it; Steve was even less familiar with cell phones, and Thor… well, not even elaborating on him. The only Asgardian who seemed familiar enough with Midgard’s technologies was sleeping soundly on the compound. You had to explain the plan thoroughly another two times individually, and then finally hung up and got to work, sending them coordinates and turning off Hydra’s hacked security cameras.

Once they were already in, you had not much more to do. At least for a few hours, they’d be completely submerged in there, and your help wasn’t needed anymore. You still planned for some outcomes and didn’t even notice the man standing in front of you.

“Excus…”.

“OH... my God”, you gasped, taking yourself off your hyper focused state. The man chuckled. His teeth, yellow, seemed like he didn’t know anything about dental hygiene. His clothes were perfectly cleaned, though, in a tidy office-type suit; but his hair was hidden by a peaked cap that barely let you see his eye expressions. Very weird looking. Hard to read. Just now unemployed? Dressed like that to get attention? You frowned and closed all tabs, opening a fake account of email and some cheap online magazine. “What do you need?”.

“Can I sit here?”.

“No”.

He smiled weirdly and manspreaded in the chair you told him not to sit in. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“What are you doing?”, he asked.

You ignore him and keep pretending to read your mails, eyeing how many people were in there too. It was getting fuller than before. If he wanted to steal your laptop he’d have to do it in front of all of these people, and cross the whole coffee shop. He wasn’t planning on stealing. You made a security copy of all the files anyways.

“You have pretty eyes”.

You ignored him again, but now understood his intentions. God, people could be so shameless sometimes. You literally told him to go away. You’ll repeat it, just in case he would actually listen this time.

“Go away”.

He chuckled and stayed in place.

“I just want to talk, sweetie”.

“Sure. I’m not interested”.

“You have a boyfriend?”.

“I have a very strong fist”.

He got closer, leaning on the table, and lowering his voice said “You’re working on the supersoldiers mission, yes?”.

You froze. Suddenly, the creepy man was a bigger threat than you’d anticipated. Your hand hovered over the gun in your pocket, holding strong eye contact with him.

“Who are you?”.

“What do you have in your pocket?”, he teased.

“Wanna find out?”, you threatened.

Looking over his shoulder, an all-too-familiar fifteen year old hid behind a pile of coffee cups from the bar counter, holding his breath to not laugh. You sighed and broke the tension.

“Funny. Very funny. I almost shoot you, you know”.

“That’s not a very good instinct”.

“Not an instinct, I truly wanted to shoot you”.

“You sure were, pancake”, he said as he transformed back into himself, still in those ugly clothes covering half his face. As he looked down to himself, he frowned and changed his clothes to an Asgardian armor. “But your mortal bullets would be no more than a caress to my skin”.

“Let’s give it a try, shall we?”, you cocked your gun, joking. He laughed, and Peter got increasingly nervous as you played with your toys in a public and safe place, surrounded by civilians. “Don’t worry, Pete, it’s fake”.

Peter sighed in relief as you clarified and put it back in your pocket, and Loki smirked, knowing perfectly well you just lied.

“Why don’t we get something to drink, too, mr. Loki?”.

“Yeah, whatever you want, kid”.

“Not a kid”.

“Apologies. Actually, can you order it? I’m afraid Midgardians don’t usually take kindly to my presence”, he asked. Peter nodded.

“I do, mr. Loki”.

"What?".

"Take it kindky".

Loki smiled and raised his eyebrows, a bit confused. Muttered an “I’m glad” and instructed him to get an americano, while you packed your laptop in the backpack.

"How's the incognito working out for you in your shiny armor?"

"Better than before. At least now I'm comfortable while getting the same bad looks I always get anyways".

"Shapeshifter can't manage to hide, how ironic", you said, giving him one of the new earbuds, with an attachable mic. "Since you have good strategy plans and you sort of know what you're doing, work with me".

"I thought we were already working together. You know, in this stupid thing called The Dark...".

"Yeah", you interrupted him, rolling your eyes once again. "From behind the scenes, I mean. This is so you can listen to whatever my earbud hears. Don't bite your tongue if you have any inputs, I'm running out of solutions".

Your phone rang again as you were getting up.

“Yes?”.

“It’s all gone to trash, y/n. We need a new plan, I can’t find Buck anywhere. What’s your backup?”, rushed Steve’s voice. It sounded like it was from a public service phone, and the static didn’t let you hear Steve’s surroundings. Loki looked at the floor, concentrating. He didn't find anything either, and was too far away to read his mind.

“Wait. What do you mean you can’t find him? You were supposed to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t get kidnapped again”, you said, opening your laptop again and looking for Bucky’s location. He didn’t have it on him.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant with ‘it’s all gone to trash’”.

“Okay, don’t freak out. Where are you?”.

“Hydra’s last base, top of the buil…”.

“Hold up, I have another incoming call”. You put him on hold and see who’s calling. It was Bucky, this time. You sigh out of relief. Peter watched you two concerned while approaching you with two coffee cups. You gestured to him to not talk, and Loki had started to type things in your computer. “Buck, where are you? What happened?”.

On the other side of the line, you didn’t get a specific answer. You heard muffled noises that you still couldn’t quite figure out what they meant, and more than one person behind the phone.

“Buck, you there?”, you asked once again. Bucky’s voice filled the silence with a heartrending scream of agony. You almost dropped your phone, and your heart beated to the speed of light. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. They have him. “Buck!”.

“Three hours”, called someone, probably one of the Hydra butchers. “You have three hours”.

“Three hours for what?!”, you tried to hold them on the line while tracing the call. It was from a specific coordinate, nobody could get there unless they teleported. Luckily, you had the perfect person for the job. Loki looked at you quizzically.

"Do we not have better people on it? Can't Stark go?".

You returned to Steve’s call, while thinking about some other alternative than taking you three there (including Peter). “They have Bucky. Location’s very far away from where we all are, so you try to get out of there and go to Asgard with Thor; they’ll try to kidnap you too, and Hydra’s resources are global. No, don’t argue, you screw up, now you do exactly as I say”.

“Do you think they’re the same that hijacked the ship on the first part of the mission?”, asked Loki once you cut the call.

“They might. We have to go get him, there's no other way. The rest of the team comes back tomorrow and they can't leave”.

“No, I have to go”, said Loki. “But I’m supposed to stay with you two and make sure you’re not endangered, and I’m sure if I leave you here all alone, you’ll try to come by your own means”.

“Which means”, you added, “if you take us with you, you can make sure we don’t endanger ourselves”.

“This is a terrible idea”.

“But the only one so far”, you convinced him. “Pete, feeling like going on a dangerous mission?”.

“Hell yeah!”, he said eagerly. Loki was not very fond of his enthusiasm.

“I can do this”, you assured him. “Do you trust me?”.

“Yes”. He didn’t hesitate. “But I don’t trust them. You two will stay behind me facing the danger, alright? Nothing of wanting to play heroes”.

“Got it. Let’s suit up, fellas. Bucky’s waiting”.

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angry-geese · 3 years

Text

Blood Ties - Chapter Twenty Seven: Tongues & Teeth

soulmate au Choso x Reader

Warnings: not sfw (smut towards the end), male masturbation, slightly un-consensual phone sex, mutual pining. light angst, and mention of injury.

synopsis: honestly i have nothing to say for myself

word count: 3.6k

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masterlist

[Remaining time until Tsumiki must declare participation in the games: 10 days]

Nanami is drunk. Very drunk.

More intoxicated than he’s been in a while. Nanami hardly drinks. Unless he’s at an event, or Gojo has convinced him to go out drinking. The older he gets, the longer his hangovers last, and the more it takes for him to recover from them. Drinking alone was never something he enjoyed. Drinking with Gojo was something he enjoyed even less. Nanami much favors quiet days, and even quieter evenings.

The hallway he finds himself in is dark. Must be the dorms. He remembers his years spent here. They're not something he looks on with typical fondness. Many of it is something he tries his best not to remember. Despite that, he looks back at his time spent here with a certain respect.

Leaning up against the wall, between a door and a fake plant, is a man. Your brother. What was his name again? Yours is—no, his name is different from yours; you're half siblings. It's something with a W.

"Whitford," Nanami says.

James visibly cringes. "The hell- don't call me that. We're the same age, you can use my name, honorifics aren't needed."

"James," he says, and his name feels weird on his tongue, "I need to speak with you,

"I don't know how else to go about asking this, so I’ll just come out and say it: your cursed technique can join two people by the string of fate, right?"

"Yeah, sure," James says, "why?”

“I was just-” Nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “thinking about you. And your sibling. I brought them soup.”

He holds up the tray, which James glances at, before deciding he doesn't want to steal anything off it.

“Yeah they told me you tried to kiss them,” he says.

Nanami’s face turns red as his head jolts back in James’ direction. The corners of his mouth curl into a scowl.

“I wouldn't take it personally,” says James, “we’re brothers, we're going to talk. If it makes you feel better, it's only us three that know. And if I had to take a guess, it's going to stay that way,

“Why bring this up now, though?

"Would this change anything?" James continues, "at the end of the day would this make anything different?”

"Is it possible?" Nanami asks.

James shrugs. He wipes his palms across the front of his jeans, before unceremoniously shoving them into his pockets.

"Certain things were set in stone by powers far greater than us," says James, "and there's no fixing that. Well, saying that implies there's something to be fixed—that something's broken. And I don't think that's the case."

James abruptly turns to Nanami, and the look he casts into his eyes is nothing short of invasive. The two men lock eyes and freeze. It feels as if he can gaze into his soul.

“Don't misunderstand me. I am no passive bystander to fate. But if certain things are already set in stone, then so be it,

“From the standpoint of a sorcerer: your souls are both very different.” James says. “You are very calculated, and careful—you are very cold and professional. They tend to lean towards the more rash side of things. They’re impulsive, and reckless,

“Putting it plainly: you're too different to be a good match. That's not to say different souls can't make good partners—they can—but yours will clash in a way that will hurt a relationship. In no way will you two truly thrive with one another,

“You consider yourself to be a solitary person, do you not?”

Nanami finds himself needing another drink. James pats around his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. He offers one to Nanami, but the man declines.

Kento Nanami isn't petty, or spiteful, or one to seek revenge. He's not one to seek out the destruction of others solely for his own gain. But in this moment he feels a flicker of emotion. Of anger—maybe jealousy.

He knows it's unreasonable. Nanami knows that what he’s feeling is not fair to anyone else involved. He knew he was out of line the moment he tried to kiss you.

He took the lesser evil.

Jujutsu sorcerers are idiots. Working at a desk all day is idiotic. So Nanami took the lesser evil. He grew into a bitter, silent adult. Those little disappointments; the bakery is out of your favorite bread, more and more stray hairs on your pillow, running late and missing the train on your way to work. Those little losses are what makes an adult an adult.

Nanami has an obligation to look out for you, because he is an adult. And while you’re one too, he was given the job to look after you. He’s aware that this is entirely for selfish reasons. At one point in time, Nanami would have separated his work from emotions. These strange, confusing emotions. But he’s let them cloud his judgement. And now he’s paying for it.

A person can go through their life loving many different people. People change as they grow, it's only natural for relationships to change with that. That doesn't make you any lesser of a person. You are still worthy of love even if you find yourself changing.

You could do better than an old man like him. Nanami is well aware of that. He knows that you two will lead vastly different lives. That's not to say you won't live fulfilling ones. You will. But not in the way he wishes to live with you.

Who knows. Maybe he’ll even like Choso if he ever has the chance to meet him.

“Will he make them happy?” Asks Nanami.

James shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe. But I don't think they're the type of person to look for happiness within other people.”

…

There's a knock on the door. Which you’re quick to answer, opening your mouth to tell whoever it is to leave.

There's only one person who bothers to knock.

You sit up the moment you see him. Nanami. Out comes a sigh you didn't know you were holding in. The sight of him makes you relax a bit. It's good to see him, despite the circumstances.

Part of you expects him to scold you. For being so stupid. For letting yourself get hurt. How he’d reprimand you for making such a dumb mistake. You’d much rather be scolded than have to sit in silence. Because the silence with him is no longer comfortable. There's a silent tension between you two. And you're not sure how to fix it.

He looks like he’s been through hell. The dark circles under his eyes are more prominent than ever. His skin is dull, and lacking much color. He’s lost a bit of weight. Has he been eating enough? Despite this his cheeks are quite flushed, along with his neck. In his hands is a tray—looks like food. He sets it down on your nightstand. On it is what looks to be a cup of tea, a bowl of soup, and some kind of steamed bun. No telling what that is. You hope it's red bean paste.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Oh, you know,” you say, “as long as I don't breathe it doesn't hurt.”

Your hearing has returned for the most part, but there's a low, constant ringing in your ears. Not loud enough to impair your hearing by much, but what little silence you had previously is now completely gone. It's worse in your right, than it is your left. But usually you can't tell the difference. The burn left an apple size scar on your leg, and tore through one of your last good pairs of pants. You're more upset about the pants than the scar. Scars can make for good stories. Sometimes.

“I smell wine,” you say flatly. “Are you drunk?”

The warm, stuffy air does little to hide how flushed his cheeks are. You're more offended that he was drinking without you than anything else.

“Yes,” he says.

“Shit, Kenny,” you say with a laugh, “didn't take you as the type to drink alone.”

He scowls.

Using your nails, you pry the plastic lid off of your soup cup. It's not the most appetizing color. Looks to be some kind of broth. Smells pretty good, though you think it could be greatly improved with some noodles, and maybe meat.

Not meat. Not after—maybe it's a blessing in disguise you weren't given anything heavier. You doubt you could keep it down. The appetite you do have isn't a particularly big one.

The steamed bun is much better. It's some kind of dough with a red bean paste filling. Though it's likely a few days old, it's still pretty good, and not too rich that you struggle to keep it down.

“Are we still friends?” You ask.

The abruptness of your question catches both of you off guard. While you're not necessarily one to beat around the bush, it's rare that you concern yourself with such things. The opinions of others—especially those of people who are considered your senior—aren't typically of concern to you.

But Nanami’s opinion is something you hold dear. He is one of the few people that you bother yourself thinking about. And he is one of the few people you don't want to disappoint.

Perhaps if you weren't bound to someone else, you would be more forgiving. You would allow yourself this bit of uncomplicated love. But you doubt you could ever love him in the way he loves you. All you want is his friendship, not his love.

You don't think the two of you would make the best pair anyway. He's too serious. The two of you are both too set in your ways of life to change for one another. You love him only in the way a ship could love an anchor.

Nanami’s eyes find yours. You want to shrink under his gaze. To pull the covers over your head like a child hiding from a monster under the bed.

“Yes,” he says, following this with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

…

Phone Call II

Choso is the first to call you this time.

You're nearly asleep when you hear your phone. It rings once, then twice, then that's about the time when you realize it's not a part of some dream.

You lay with your phone on your chest. It's on speaker. Your arm moves to cover your eyes, shielding them from the little light in your room.

“Are you alright?” He asks. “You sound tired.”

Your shoulders relax a bit at the sound of his voice. It brings a strange sense of comfort with it.

“I'm fine,” you say. “Just a bit tired after that last job, that's all.”

“What happened?” He asks, worry hinting at his voice. He could make himself sick thinking about you. It's one thing being separated like this, it's another when you’re running off on dangerous jobs. While he knows you’re capable of protecting yourself, he still wants to be there to help.

“It's… stupid, really.” You say. "I'm fine though. Just gotta sleep it off; that's what Shoko said."

The conversation doesn't stick to any topic in particular. You chat about idle things in day-to-day life; what goes on in Tengen’s barrier, the school. All quiet. You tell him it's been about the same at Jujutsu Tech, and the lack of news on Kenjaku, or the culling game. How long before Kenjaku makes his next move? Before he eventually tries to merge with Tengen? It makes you wonder how long this moment of peace will last. Well, “peace” may not be the best term for it. But if you’re not actively being hunted by cursed spirits, other sorcerers, or jujutsu higher ups, you’ll consider it good enough.

"Tell me a story," Choso says. His words stop your train of thought dead in its tracks.

"About what?" You ask.

"Something happy," he says. "Your childhood. What good memories do you have of it?"

“My childhood? Okay…” You say, your brows furrowing. “Can't say I have too many interesting stories.”

You're not certain about happy ones either. If you were to think hard enough, you suppose you could come up with something.

You've got one.

"You know those ramunes? The sodas that have a marble in the neck?" You ask. "Growing up there was this market down the street—owned by an older woman. It was the only place in town that sold those. We'd show up there at least once a week, using whatever allowance we had on those sodas,

"I used to smash the empty bottle against the pavement to get the marbles out of the necks. I'm sure there was an easier way to get them out, but I always liked breaking them. That was half the fun, ya know?

"Of course my mom would throw a fit over this. James and I were enough trouble as is—not to mention we were getting glass all over the driveway. I kept most of them. They’re still somewhere in my mom’s house—I had to leave them behind when I moved out for college.”

Why is this particular memory happy to you? Is it the act of destroying something? Or is it the act of hoarding all those glass marbles? Or is it the simplicity of it all? Back then you had no more worries than missing the saturday morning cartoons, and getting home before the streetlights came on.

You always had to be back before 7:00, or before the streetlights came on. It never seemed fair when in the winter it got dark around 4pm.

“I never knew you went to college,” Choso says.

“Yeah, I dropped out halfway through freshman year,” you say, “so I didn't go very long.”

“So you didn't know you were a sorcerer?” He asks. “Even when you were younger?”

“I mean, I’ve always assumed something was wrong with me,” you say, “but nah, never this.”

“I don't think anything is wrong with you.” Choso says.

You can hardly stop the snort that you let out. “I appreciate you saying that, but, I mean…

“I have another story, if you want to hear it?”

“Of course,”

"When I was a kid—like real young—my cousin threw a baseball through the window of our house.” You say. “It was an accident, really. James had caught all of the other ones. He had no way of knowing this one would miss,

“He was already in trouble with my mom for getting caught drinking. James took the blame for that, so he didn't get into any more trouble.”

“Your mother got mad at him for drinking?” Choso asks. “Drinking what? Water?”

“Not like that,” you say, giggling at his concerned tone of voice. “He was left alone, and got into her stash of booze. Drank too much and had to go to the hospital to get his stomach pumped. God that one made for an awkward dinner,

“I realize this one isn't particularly happy, but I remember it the clearest. And… I don't know. Maybe I finally felt the need to tell the truth. I mean, I’ve been lying about it for almost two decades now.”

You think when you get back, you'll tell your mother who really broke the window.

The thought of that place makes your chest ache. It's not your home. It's been a long time since you considered it to be. But there's no thinking of home, without thinking of the people within it.

Will this culling game affect other places in the world? You assume so. It can't only be Japan that's affected. It's only a matter of time before this spreads. Now it's starting to feel like there's no damage control.

Hell, maybe there isn't any. For all you know, the Jujutsu higher ups that are still alive have fled to opposite ends of the globe. Not that you blame them. If you’re going to die, might as well do it in a pretty place.

You don't put much thought into how you’ll die. If it happens, it happens.

"You deserve an uncomplicated love, Choso," you say.

Another moment goes by before he finally speaks.

"What makes you say that?" He asks. The slightest bit of worry gnaws at him. Has he done something to make it seem like he doesn't love you back?

"I just… have been thinking recently." You say. "You know sometimes I think my brother is right. But I’d never tell him that. He doesn't need a bigger ego than he already has.”

Your joke lands flat on its face. Choso doesn't laugh. Oh well. Humor was probably different a few hundred years ago.

"I'm alright with a complicated love," says Choso, "as long as you're still with me."

"Of course I'm with you," you say. Your voice cracks on the last word.

"Are you sure you’re alright? You sound upset…”

There it is again. That worried tone of voice. A feeling akin to a sword through the pit of your stomach overcomes you.

“Yeah,” you say.

You killed someone again. And this time you hardly hesitated before you did it.

Is this how human beings become cursed spirits? This guilt? This sadness? Such needless loss of life?

Maybe you just want someone to judge you. For some kind of cosmic punishment to happen. Karmic justice, or whatnot. To finally face punishment for the bad things you’ve done.

There's only so much you can do to fight off sleep before it takes you under entirely. It's more than being plain tired: it's exhaustion. Mental and physical. Yet you seek to push yourself past your breaking point. To burn yourself out past the point of no return. And it pulls you under, letting you slip into comfortable darkness.

He says your name softly. Once. Then once again when you don't respond. You must have fallen asleep.

Choso tries to memorize the sound of your breathing. Oh how much better it would sound if you were next to him. How your breath would catch in your throat when he'd run his fingers over your hair. Or the curve of your spine. Or your palms. How he'd study each scar. Each callous. His fingers would lace with yours. Or you’d mention how cold his hands were, and bring them to your chest to warm them up. You’re always so warm compared to him. So human.

He wonders if you still wear his shirt. Do you bring it to your nose hoping it still smells like him? It must smell like you now. Like your lavender shampoo, and the faint scent of vanilla, and stale cigarettes. The smell of sweat and iron.

The thought of you wearing his shirt makes something deep inside him stir. How it would hang off of one of your shoulders. How you would tuck the hem into the waistband of your pants so it wasn't too loose. Something akin to a rubber band tightens in his stomach. It's a tension he's never quite felt before.

But he needs to do something about it.

Choso still isn't entirely used to this body. It took him quite a while to figure out that the pain he would feel in his stomach was hunger. The dryness in his throat was thirst. And when he would get tired, his limbs would get heavy and he would find himself irritable. And it took him time to realize the pain in his chest was longing for you.

There's still many things for him to learn. The ways and technology of modern society are often lost on him. But he's learning. Slowly.

His hand snakes under his waistband, wrapping around his half-hard cock. The other he uses to cover his mouth. To stifle the noises that threaten to escape him. His teeth dig into his fingers. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to leave dark marks on his skin.

He tries to imagine how you would feel. The warmth of your body against his. Your much softer hands across his skin. The little sighs and grunts that would spill past your lips. Such thoughts send a throb right to his hardening cock. Precum beads at the head, leaving little white droplets across his closed fist, and a pale ring around the head of his cock.

His mind drifts to the noises you'd make when he touches you. From the sound of your breathing, to your voice. You make a lot of noises in your sleep. From quiet whimpers, to full on words. Never any sentences though. And the little you do say seems completely incoherent.

Do you think about him in this way? In such a lewd manner? Do you ever touch yourself like this? All needy and breathless. Choso hopes you do.

His strokes are slow and clumsy at first. He’s too restless to really settle into it. The thought of getting caught is ever present in the back of his mind, despite anything he does to try to calm it. He doubts anyone is going to walk in; Yuki is still on watch, and Tengen doesn't do a whole lot. But the threat is still there.

The thought of your hands wrapped around his cock only throws gas on the fire. He tries to remember the taste of your lips. Of your vanilla scented chapstick. Of cigarettes. He’d run his tongue along your teeth. Your hands would bury in his hair and tug.

There's no stopping now. With a whimper, he spills across his hand, and onto his bare thighs. His lower stomach is a mess of sparse dark hairs and droplets of cum.

The wrongness of it all doesn't hit him until he looks at the mess he’s made.

He shouldn't have done that.

#jjk x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #blood ties #jujutsu kaisen #not osha compliant #choso #choso kamo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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lokis-army-77 · 3 years

Text

If You Please

Chapter twelve

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2588

This is technically a reader insert but without the (y/n) and all that. She also has no name mentioned so feel free to imagine as you please.

Follow the reader through the events of the Captain America movies and experience her love for Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: none

Note: Normally I am the type of person to be date accurate when writing things and if you are too, I'm sorry. I messed up on the dates, so the battle of New York happens like a month after it should. This is also a short chapter because it's a filler and I'm trying to just get to the Winter Soldier but have everything make sense.

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Masterlist

A few days later I had received a small archivist job in the WWII department of the Smithsonian. Thankfully the made-up resume and a few fake SHIELD recommendations came in handy. I would officially start the following week after a few background checks were cleared. In my free time until then, I unpacked all the boxes in my apartment. It started to feel more homely and warm when all of my things filled up the space. When I didn’t feel like unpacking anything, I started taking long walks to the VFW building. I hadn’t joined in on any of the meetings yet, I just stood by the doorway and watched, listening to the stories people told.

One day that week as I stood back in the hallway after the meeting had ended, a man came up to me. He was a little taller than I was and had the brightest smile I had ever seen. I had watched him in the meetings before, he was usually the one hosting them, giving advice to all who needed it.

“I’ve seen you standing out here for the past three days, why don’t you come have a seat next time? It would be more comfortable than standing out here for an hour.” He said as he leaned his back against the wall right next to me.

“I have thought about it, but I tend to get here after you have started. I don’t want to interrupt anything by just barging in.” I said over my shoulder at him.

“You won't interrupt anything, just come on in next time, we’d be happy to have a new face around,” He pushed himself off the wall and walked down the hall.

After that, I ended up joining the meetings and even spoke a few times. I learned that the man who came up to me that day was Sam Wilson, pararescue, who had served two tours in Afghanistan. From the first day he came up and talked to me to now, we quickly became friends.

The days had turned into weeks and I was finally able to live relatively by my own means. The Smithsonian was great, in the archives, no one was really around and I could spend a whole day without any interruptions, which allowed me to just concentrate on what I was doing. After closing, I normally walked to meet Sam, who was usually way too excited to see me, even though we saw each other almost every day without fail.

“You’re late today.” I jumped, startled out of my thoughts at the sound of someone talking to me. I looked up, spying Sam standing next to one of the small trees outside the VFW building.

“What do you mean late?”

“I mean you usually get here at three-thirty. It's four right now.” He said looking down at his watch.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize. I've just been lost in my thoughts lately.” I sighed.

“I know we’ve only been friends for what? A month? But I already know when something is bothering you, What is it?”

“Nothing really, just my brother. Since moving here he's called at least twice a week to check up but it’s been radio silence for the past two weeks, he doesn't even answer when I try calling him. I'm just a little worried that something bad is going on, considering his job.”

“Well, maybe he’s just really busy at the moment, or he's somewhere he can't call you. You know how it is being out on those military missions.”

“I know, it’s just the last time we were apart on a mission,” I trailed off and looked up at Sam, he raised his eyebrows, quietly waiting for the end of the sentence. “Someone close to us passed. It’s still fresh in my mind like it happened yesterday. I was there that day and I was too far away to even know what had happened, now my brother and I aren’t even in the same vicinity as each other, there is no telling what could happen and it makes me nervous.”

He gave me a small apologetic smile and patted my shoulder before leading me from the tree where we stood to where his car was parked. “What do you say we hang out at mine and just watch some tv? Get your mind off things? Or we can talk about it, either way, it’s better than dealing with it alone.” I nodded my head and grabbed onto the car door handle as he unlocked it.

Walking through the front door after him I took a quick look around. It was cozy, way more decorated than I thought it would be for a man in his early thirties living alone.

“Make yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink?” He asked neck-deep in the fridge.

“Okay, I’ll just have some water,” I called out as I made my way further into the living room. The couch was backed up to the wall a few feet away from the dining room table. I sat down on it and scooted as close as I could to its right arm. A few moments later Sam came over with two glasses of water and a bag of chips. He handed me my drink before crashing down into his own seat. “Thank you,” I said before taking a long sip.

He nodded as he said “No problem.” Before he got himself really comfortable he searched around for the TV remote. As he pressed the ‘on’ button the TV came to life. “What in the world is that?” He sounded concerned so I quickly looked at the screen.

“Breaking: Attack on New York City. This afternoon at 2:15 several unidentified aircraft descended onto Earth's surface. Strange beings, some are calling aliens, Accompanied these ships and are causing havoc in Manhattan. Eyewitnesses have stated that they have seen Iron Man, and what seemed to be Captain America, leading a team of three others fighting back against the invaders. The battle seems to be over but updates are still coming in, let's take a look at some footage of the downtown destruction.” My eyes went wide and my heart stopped as I listened to what the reporter was saying. I kept my eyes glued to the screen as it changed to show a destroyed street. As the camera panned around I spotted Steve fighting against two of the creatures, before the clip quickly changed to show one of the large ships crashing into the New York skyline.

“Oh God Steve, what did you get into?” I murmured to myself.

“You say that like you know him personally.”

“Uhh.” I just gave him a wide-eyed look of surprise. “I do, he’s my brother.”

“Now really isn’t the time to be joking about things,” He gave me a pointed look.

“I swear I’m not joking, he really is my brother. I can explain later, I need to try and get a hold of him.” I pulled out the small flip phone from my pocket and dialed the number for Steve's cell phone, it rang and rang but no answer. I hung up quickly and dialed the number Fury gave me at the beginning of the month. After two rings he answered.

“I assume you are looking for Captain Rogers.”

“Where is he? Is he okay?” I tried to keep the worried tone from coming through in my voice.

“He’s fine. He is in the middle of a debriefing. I’ll tell him you called.”

“Okay, thank you.” As soon as the words left my mouth he gave a quick hum and then hung up. I looked over at Sam whose eyes hadn't left me at all. “Everything is fine, he's in a debrief so that means that whatever happened in New York is definitely over.”

“That’s good to hear, hopefully, those things don’t try to come back again.” He shook like a shiver ran down his spine. “Now please explain how Captain America, a man from the 1940s, is your brother.”

“I can hear the skepticism in your voice.”

He held his hands up in defense, “Hey, I'm not the one saying I'm the sister to a 90 something-year-old man.”

“Look, it’s a long story that I would rather not get into now but the short version is that I was born in 1921, Steve is my older brother, we both ended up taking the super-soldier serum and fought against HYDRA in the second world war. We ended up crashing a plane into some Ice in the Atlantic ocean and were found and unfrozen last October.” “If you are really Captain America’s sister, then why are you never mentioned in anything?” I looked at him and shook my head.

“Well for starters it was the forties and I was a woman fighting on the front lines. Credit is never given where it is due. But there is also the fact that I was a part of the SSR, which was very secretive, after I died.” I put my fingers up in air quotes, “They should have erased most, if not all the files on me, per protocol. The only reason Steve is well known is because of his time going cross country selling war bonds.” I paused for a second before quickly adding, “I’m sure if you look hard enough, you’ll find me in the history books somewhere.”

Sam just sat there not really saying anything. This was the first time I think he had ever been quiet for more than five seconds. I let out a deep sigh and stood, grabbing my bag from the floor. “Thanks for having me over, but I think I need to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood and walked me to the door.

“Don’t be late. I’ll see you.” Sam waved me off and I headed down the street.

About half a year later while sorting through some archive files, I came across Peggy Carter. I felt a pang in my heart as I stared at the photo of her standing next to Howard Stark. Other than Steve and Bucky, those two were my closest friends. I fell down a rabbit hole after that, finding any information on the two that I could find. They had both helped found SHIELD in 1965, they had both gotten married and had children of their own. Peggy's children had stayed out of the public eye, but in true Stark fashion, Howard’s son evidently took over the family business and was living the high life. I pulled out a newspaper from the stack I had on the table in front of me and was shocked at what I saw. The title read ‘Howard and Maria Stark Die in Car Accident’, I knew Howard most likely wasn’t alive anymore but seeing the photographs of the wrecked car in the newspaper cast a somber mood through the room.

I laid the paper down on the table and ruffled through more of the papers before determining that we had no information on if Peggy was alive or not. That sent me into a frenzy of looking through phone books to try and find her and calling every retirement home in DC that I could. The only lead I had to go off of was a small interview from a newspaper, talking to Peggy about the seventieth anniversary of V-E Day, stated that she was living in Washington, DC.

After eight failed calls, finally, on the ninth, I had finally found a home which had a Peggy Carter as a residence in room 204. I rushed to pack up my things and left my office early. I ran down the back hallways as fast as I could without drawing too much attention. When I made it out of the building I ran full speed to the road to hail a cab.

Amazingly the traffic was almost nonexistent and I made it to the retirement home in only ten minutes. I fumbled out of the cab and I raced through the front doors of the building. I must have startled the women at the front desk because as soon as I rounded the corner to the staircase, they were yelling after me. I took the steps three at a time in my haste to get to the second floor. I stopped running when I was outside of room 204. I couldn’t see anything clearly through the frosted window so I knocked hesitantly and slowly opened the door and stepped in.

There in the middle of the room, against the wall was a single bed. A woman laid there quietly with her eyes closed. The closer I came to her the more familiar she looked. I let out a relieved gush of breath. There she was, older now, but still the Peggy I once knew. I nervously grabbed one of the chairs in the corner of the room and brought it over to her bedside so I could sit. Gently I gave her a small tap on the hand before just holding it in mine. She stirred but her eyes never opened.

All of a sudden one of the nurses from downstairs came into the room, with an angry and shocked expression.

“Ma’am, You can't be in here. If you want to see a patient, you have to sign in.” I ignored her, my eyes trained on Peggy's face. The commotion of the woman barging into the room had made her open her eyes and look around. I just watched as she scanned the room, first to the door on the left, to the wall in front of her, past me sitting on her right, then to the window behind me.” Her brows raised and she lifted her hands to her eyes to rub. The shock on her face was evident as she turned her head to stare directly at me.

“Hey Carter, long time no see huh?” I gave her the biggest smile that I could.

“Is it really you?” She reached her hand out to mine and grabbed hold.

“It is, it’s really me.”

“Ma’am, I mean it, you can't be here.” The nurse tried again, this time Peggy shot her a glare.

“Ms. I’ll have you know this is one of my best friends and she can be in here if she wants to. Now leave us alone.” The young nurse nodded her head and rushed out, even in old age she could still put on that commanding tone that struck fear in every man. She slowly turned back to me, almost like if she looked back for me, I would be gone. “How? How are you here?”

“It’s a long story Peg, are you sure you want to hear it?”

“Look where I am, I have nothing but time.” She laughed out and I let out my own small laugh as I shook my head.

In addition to what I had been doing, like hanging out with Sam, after that first visit, I made it a priority to see Peggy once or twice every two weeks, depending on how she was doing. Dementia had put a lot of stress on her, and seeing me after almost seventy-five years and looking relatively the same as I had when frozen took out a giant toll on her.

And that's how the next 10 months went until Steve eventually moved into an apartment directly under me.

Tag List: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @underc0vercryptid-reads @geek-and-proud @intothesoul @leyannrae @starkleila

#james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #winter solider x reader #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction

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mopeytropey · 4 years

Text

a beer bud series: chapter 11

author’s note: times are tough. stay safe. read some fluffy fic. take care of each other.

Timeline: this is set just before Lincoln and Octavia's wedding, probably in the realm of chapters 11 and 12 of apu, after Clarke has given Lexa a key and asked her to move in (because they are both too gay to function)

Beer: La Ferme Urbaine FARMHOUSE ALE

Influenced by the Belgian saison style, La Ferme Urbaine features a complex blend of German hops, pilsner and pale malts, wheat, rye, oats, and spelt. The beer pours a hazy straw color and delivers a spicy, dry finish.

ABV 7.8%

Posted to AO3 here, or below the cut:

:::

“This is going to require some intense renovations.” Lexa stands with her hands in her front pockets, neck craned towards a dilapidated two-story house on a small corner lot. Its Victorian architecture is nearly eclipsed by peeling paint, broken windows, and a sagging porch, but the way Lincoln’s face beams, it’s as if the house shows no signs of disrepair. “You sure you’re up to task?”

“Hell, yeah.” Lincoln’s confidence is as strong as the late afternoon sun, glaring in a burning orange glow as it reflects off the windows of the historic city buildings surrounding them.

He then launches into an animated diatribe of improvements and restoration projects, pacing the perimeter of the property as he gestures to certain aspects of the house with broad hands. He and Octavia have likely discussed these visions of their future home endlessly as they await inspection reports and closing signatures to make everything final. Their initial offer had been accepted almost immediately, and Lexa has to believe it is thanks to, in part (if not entirely), the authenticity of her good friend’s charming demeanor.

“It’ll be a massive undertaking, but with the right help—”

“You planning to swing a sledge with me during the demo stage?” Lincoln grins.

“God, no.” Lexa nearly shudders. “Though I imagine Clarke might enjoy the destructive release of aggression after some of her more challenging bar shifts.”

Lincoln chuckles and returns to stand by Lexa’s side as they continue to gaze up at the house. “Yeah, Octavia too.”

“I’m so excited for you.” Lexa smiles up at him, nudging their shoulders together as Lincoln meets her eye with a grin of his own. “About everything.”

His upcoming nuptials (which have explicitly been banned from being referred to as a wedding) are less than two months away, and Lincoln hopes to have the keys to their new house in hand before the ceremony. He and Octavia seem happier than ever—real life exemplars of a healthy, supportive relationship between two friends in love. Lexa feels a kindred satisfaction at having found something similar with Clarke. Perhaps no one would have predicted these outcomes, but she and Lincoln have done rather well for a couple of kids who spent years feeling unwanted and unloved.

“What can I say: I’m living my best life.”

“Truly,” Lexa laughs, leaning into the nook of Lincoln’s armpit as he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

Even for early April, the weather has warmed, and the sun hangs in the sky for longer intervals. There’s no longer a bite in the air, even in the cooler, evening temperature. The breezes coming in off of the harbor have a fresh scent, like rejuvenation in the air that will soon breed blossoms on all the trees and fresh shoots of grass beneath their feet.

Lexa is perfectly comfortable in her jeans and a soft, grey henley layered with a pastel flannel that she has permanently borrowed from Clarke’s side of the closet. A closet that they now share in an official capacity. Lexa’s mouth slopes into a stupid grin at the thought of their now shared space. Her stomach swoops because of the new gold key in her pocket that she can feel between her fingers.

“I could say the same for you,” Lincoln tells her, somehow reading her thoughts. “You get all your stuff moved in yet?”

Her breath stutters at the mention of it, at the vision of scattered boxes and her random belongings that have slowly infiltrated Clarke’s space. “My lease isn’t up until the end of the month, so I’ve been moving things gradually.”

“Not ready to fully commit, huh?” Lincoln jabs with a teasing grin.

“I feel exceptionally confident about it, thank you very much.”

“What? Just like that?” Lincoln laughs. “Where is the torturous, internal Lexa struggle? Where are the mountains of anxiety about making the wrong call or moving too fast? Is this what four months as Clarke’s girlfriend has done to you?”

Lexa shrugs as if her chest hasn’t just snapped like a rubber band at being called Clarke’s girlfriend, a title that still sparks jittery excitement. Particularly when she is still grasping the house key that Clarke has recently given her. “Apparently.”

“Well, it’s a good look on you.”

“Thanks.”

They’ve stopped at the house Lincoln intends to buy with Octavia on their way to food and beer at Dockside, having fallen into the habit of visiting the girls during their longest shift of the week. With the mention of Clarke and the newest development in their relationship, Lexa feels a sudden wave of impatience to continue their walk to the bar where she knows Clarke and Octavia will be waiting to greet them.

Lincoln releases a long, contented sigh. “Should we head down to see the girls?”

Lexa exhales in turn and attempts to answer in a measured and completely unhurried manner: “Sure.”

:::

It’s just shy of six when Lincoln pulls open the front door of Dockside, allowing Lexa to walk through into the familiar establishment. Her eyes perform a practiced scan of the room, but Clarke isn’t immediately visible as she and Lincoln head straight for the half-empty bar counter.

Octavia is chatting with other customers as Lexa and Lincoln approach, but she winks at Lincoln, her mouth curving just so, mid-conversation, which has him beaming as he slides into a bar stool.

“That’s my future wife,” he stage whispers, and Lexa can’t help but smile at how ridiculous being in love with Octavia has made him.

They’d been more than halfway to the bar when Lexa had received an S.O.S from Clarke about caffeine and sudden fatigue and exaggerated pronouncements of loyalty, commitment, and sexual favors if Lexa would bring her coffee. Of course, it strictly goes against her better judgement to enable Clarke’s reliance on caffeine in unhealthy measurements.

Then again, Lexa has lost almost all ability to ever actually tell her no because being in love with Clarke has made her better judgements ridiculously feeble.

As such, she stands beside Lincoln with a small half-caf drip in a paper cup from Clarke’s favorite roaster, a generous concession without fully giving in to her girlfriend’s unredeemable habit.

“Clarke’s in the back if you want to bring that to her,” Octavia says as she approaches.

“Oh. Okay.” Lexa starts for the black swinging door of storage before Octavia calls out again.

“Sorry—not the stockroom. The other back.” She’s jutting her thumb over her shoulder when Lexa turns around, indicating the narrow corridor behind the bar counter that leads to Clarke’s office and the back entrance.

“Oh. Right. Thanks,” Lexa smiles. “I’ll be right back,” she says to Lincoln.

“I’m starting a timer on my phone,” he calls after her. “Just because I’m curious to see how long it takes you to deliver a cup of coffee.”

She just manages to stop herself from flipping him off before pushing through the door, leaving him with a meaningless scowl.

:::

Clarke looks up from whatever she’s been working on as Lexa steps into the open doorway with a smile she intends to curb by biting her lower lip.

“Hey.”

“Oh my god, I can't believe you actually brought me coffee. I love you.” Clarke says it offhand, a bit theatrically even, but Lexa’s stomach flip-flops all the same.

She enters the office with a slow stride and gently places the paper cup onto Clarke’s desk. “That’s half decaf, by the way.”

Clarke’s face falls as she eyes the beverage with sudden disdain. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we have to break up.”

“Ouch. It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Get over here.” Clarke has already snared her wrist with a widening smile, pulling at Lexa’s arm so that she is forced to lean across the desk and meet Clarke’s waiting grin. “Hi,” she almost whispers after their lips part.

“Is this how you typically break up with people? Because it’s actually pretty enjoyable,” Lexa murmurs into the space between their lips.

“Shut up,” Clarke laughs before they are kissing again, Lexa’s palms flat against the desktop while Clarke’s fingers thread into her hair.

It’s still a soft greeting and nothing obscene—two people happy to be in the same space again after a short time apart—but Lexa feels the quickening of her pulse all the same.

“Thank you for my fake coffee.”

“Clarke.”

“Lexa.”

Never before has she felt so unapologetically mocked by a single person yet utterly enamored in spite of it. Lexa pinches her lips together and looks away from Clarke’s teasing smile.

“I have to get back out there,” she announces, finally pulling back to stand at her full height. “Lincoln thinks he’s being clever by setting a timer for my return.”

Clarke stands with a laugh. “I’ll come with you. I need a break from these orders anyway.” She holds her fake coffee with one hand and finds Lexa’s fingers with the other. She kisses Lexa’s shoulder cap and regards her fondly. “I’m never getting this shirt back, am I?”

“Especially not now that we’ve broken up.”

The genuine hurt that immediately darkens Clarke’s eyes coupled with her protruding lower lip stops Lexa from moving towards the office doorway.

She stills her movements entirely as Clarke says, “I don’t want to joke about breaking up anymore.”

“It was your joke to begin with,” Lexa softly reminds her, nevertheless smoothing the pad of her thumb over Clarke’s lower lip.

“I know,” Clarke says, frowning still. “It was a stupid joke, and I don’t like to think about it.”

A soft press of her lips to Clarke’s forehead has her leaning into the touch, releasing Lexa’s fingers to curl an arm around Lexa’s waist.

“If you think you would be able to get rid of me that easily, Clarke, we might need to revisit some previous conversations about my intentions in being with you.”

“I seem to recall some very persuasive measures that we engaged in alongside those conversations,” Clarke says, her smile pressing into Lexa’s neck where she has tucked her head beneath Lexa’s chin.

Lexa hums through a smile of her own. If she didn’t know Clarke so well, it would be easy to mistake her perpetual, single-minded focus on sex as a complete lack of sentimentality.

But, Lexa isn’t fooled.

Clarke thrives on crass innuendo and well-meaning objectification (both of herself and Lexa), but she can also be openly sensitive and affectionate. Vulnerable in her need to be near Lexa—to feel safe and connected—as often as possible.

Lexa can’t say for sure if they will always be so desperate for each other’s company, if small fractions of time spent apart will continue to breed an urgency for reuniting. She has been in enough relationships to know that attachments usually fade and the needs of each person most often change over time.

Still, something tells her that when it comes to this relationship, Clarke will break the mold of every truth Lexa has previously known.

“The point is: I’m not going anywhere,” Lexa tells her, and Clarke looks up at her with a renewed smile. “Although, you’re still not getting this shirt back.”

Clarke kisses the underside of her jaw and tightens the hold she has around her waist. “You can keep all of my shirts as long as I get to keep you.”

“Deal,” Lexa answers, finally leading them out of the office.

Lincoln will roast her for having taken an exorbitant amount of time to deliver Clarke’s coffee, but having Clarke hugged against her side, Lexa finds she doesn’t exactly care.

:::

In an hour’s time Lexa has been fed no less than six times—small plates of food from the kitchen’s rotating menu like an assembly line in front of her and Lincoln—and an empty beer glass is no sooner bussed than another full one appears. As it turns out, dating a bar manager and sustaining a lifelong friendship with her business partner’s fiancé is a pretty good gig for libations and keeping well fed. By 8:00, she’s not necessarily sober, but the continuous parade of appetizers that Octavia and Clarke slide in front of Lexa and Lincoln keep her from tipping over the edge into properly drunk.

“This one is my favorite.”

“You’ve said that about the last three.”

Lincoln crunches into his charred nopales and street corn tostada as if to be sure. “Nope. This is the one.”

Lexa smiles around a second bite of her Korean short ribs and savors the balanced marinade—a perfect blend of smoky sweetness and tangy spice.

She is washing it down with a saison from Rhode Island as Octavia swings out of the kitchen and approaches their end of the bar.

“How good is that corn?”

“The whole thing is amazing,” Lincoln tells her.

Octavia swipes an avocado off his plate without hesitation. “What about the Kalbi?”

It sounds conversational, the way that Octavia, as a friend, is asking Lexa about her meal. But, in spending the past year of her life in proximal relation to her, Lexa has determined that, in some capacity, Octavia is actually always working.

“These are easily some of the best short ribs I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah,” Octavia grins. “I’m obsessed with them. Jane has been on staff for less than two months, and she’s already killing it back there.”

“Be sure to extend my compliments to the chef. Beer is incredible, too,” Lexa adds.

“What did Clarke bring you this time? The Foolproof?”

“Their farmhouse, yeah.” Lexa’s attention is drawn to the kitchen doorway again as Clarke exits carrying plates of food. She doesn’t glance in their direction as she drops the plates farther down the bar, but her smile is warm and bright, and Lexa can’t look away.

There’s a generous crowd strung along the bar counter, plus a few of the nearby tables that keep rotating with guests who stay for a drink or two before heading off into the night. Clarke is engaging with the three men who have just received their plates of food, and Lexa’s ears attune to the friendly pitch of her voice while Octavia and Lincoln momentarily hold their own conversation.

Lexa sips her saison and enjoys the way Clarke handles herself in conversation—confident, approachable, friendly, but with a distant professionalism. It’s not until she registers the distinct tone of patriarchal arrogance coming from a few of Clarke’s guests that Lexa realizes Octavia and Lincoln have also clued into the nearby exchange.

From what Lexa can gather, over the din of other surrounding patrons, the men are attempting to challenge the accuracy of Clarke’s knowledge on one of Dockside’s pours. Clearly first-time patrons, to these men, Clarke is easily mistaken as the beautiful bartender in a nice dress with a friendly demeanor who pours their pints and delivers their food. They would never suspect that she is also the unassuming curator of every beer offered within the establishment and a well-read expert in the field of craft brewing.

If she didn’t find misogynistic biases against women in male-dominated fields to be nauseatingly unforgivable, Lexa would almost feel bad for what these guys have coming to them.

“This should be good,” Lincoln mutters with a deviant smile, and Lexa flicks her gaze to find Octavia looking half-amused, half-poised for lethal intervention.

In short, Clarke absolutely eviscerates the men’s inflated egos by seamlessly rattling off a short history on the brewery in question, explaining their evolution of kettle sours and dry-hopped IPAs with thrilling precision, all while maintaining her hospitable smile. The cohort of sexist men are left silenced and stunned as Clarke moves on to tend to the rest of the bar, leaving their gaping jaws in her wake.

“What a bunch of fucking morons,” Octavia grumbles with an eye roll just before another table of guests catches her attention and she is pulled away.

“I love it when she does that,” Lexa says, smiling in Lincoln’s direction.

“It is really gratifying to watch someone’s fragile masculinity skillfully shattered,” he agrees with a satisfied smile. “I’ll never understand it, that intrinsic need to be an expert on everything, but it’s entertaining as hell to see O and Clarke flex on these random assholes who waltz in here and mistakenly try to out-beer them.”

Lexa's smile widens as she and Lincoln clink their beer glasses together. “It really is.”

:::

“One strand of lights.”

“No.”

“A single banner. A classy one.”

“No.”

“Candles. Come on, O, no one can say no to candles.”

“Watch me.” Octavia, who up until this point had been withholding eye contact, gives Clarke a pointed glare. “No.”

Lexa smiles at Clarke’s frustrated groan while sipping her glass of water. Three-and-a-half pints of beer and countless plates of food have left her feeling fully satisfied if not also ready for bed. Clarke won’t close the bar for another few hours, and though Lexa acknowledges this is the reality of their chosen professions, she also wishes to steal Clarke away and take her home for a cuddle.

“Think about Lincoln,” Clarke continues, beating her dead wedding horse, much to Octavia’s dismay. “You’re depriving him of this fanfare, this pizazz, this well-deserved—”

“Don’t drag him into this,” Octavia interjects.

Clarke’s jaw drops. “He’s literally one half of the reason we’re celebrating! And honestly, with how difficult you’re being about this whole thing, it might be more like 70/30.”

Octavia rolls her eyes and starts to walk away, busying herself with clearing empty glasses from a table whose guests have just vacated. “When you two leave, will you take her with you?”

Her voice carries across the now mostly empty bar, and Clarke scowls at Octavia from where Lexa and Lincoln sit at the far end of the counter. They often lay claim to this section of the bar during their Wednesday night visits, and it always feels like a sacred, little huddle.

“That’s a tempting offer,” Lexa answers as Octavia breezes past them to deposit the empty glasses into her bus tub behind the bar.

Her comment successfully erases the look on Clarke’s face as their eyes meet, and she watches Clarke’s frown melt into a dopey smile.

“I’m not leaving you to close by yourself. Stop being so dramatic,” Clarke admonishes, though she is still smiling as her eyes leave Lexa to look over her shoulder at Octavia.

“I’m not by myself,” Octavia grunts, hoisting her black bin of glassware and dirty plates off a low shelf. “Jane and Murph are in the back. Take the orders home and finish them there. You know the last two hours of the night are the slowest midweek. I’ll be fine.”

“Stop trying to get rid of me just because you’re throwing a fit about candles,” Clarke shouts after her even though Octavia has already pushed through into the kitchen.

Their small end of the bar counter temporarily swells with music blaring from the line cooks and back-of-house staff, a stark contrast to the lo-fi hip hop Clarke has playing on a lower volume in the main room.

“I should get home either way,” Lexa admits with a short stretch of her arms, pulling taut the muscles of her back. “You fed me too well, and now I’m sleepy.”

“You’re a grandma every night of the week—in bed before ten or cranky as hell the next day.”

Lexa furrows her brow at Clarke’s unnecessarily accurate depiction of her sleep routines, but Lincoln laughs openly while nudging her shoulder.

“This one’s never been able to burn the midnight oil. Needs that beauty rest to maintain her cheerful disposition.”

“I’m officially breaking up with both of you.”

“Hey.”

Clarke’s pout is back, the color of her eyes saturated in renewed hurt at Lexa’s bad joke. Three-and-a-half beers have also made her forgetful, apparently.

“Sorry, sorry.” She reaches for Clarke’s wrists across the glossed wood of the bar and is gently rubbing her thumbs across Clarke’s pulse points when Octavia reemerges. “Just Lincoln then.”

Lincoln offers a good-natured shrug. “That’s fair.”

“See?” Octavia eyes the affectionate gesture between Clarke and Lexa with a practiced look of exasperation. “You could be doing this loved up shit in the privacy of your own home.”

“Says the one who is about to profess her undying love and commitment publicly in front of all our closest friends,” Clarke argues.

“I feel like if you keep reminding her, she’s more likely to back out,” Lincoln muses, and Lexa wonders if he is only half kidding.

Octavia pins him with a look. “Never.”

It’s a charged moment just for them, despite the fact that Clarke and Lexa are caught in its crosshairs, Lincoln grinning as he catches Octavia’s crooked smirk.

“I really should go,” Lexa reiterates quietly, not wanting to interrupt. Her day will start early the following morning with a delivery just south of Boston, and traffic will be nauseating through Sumner Tunnel. “Are you sure you don’t—”

“Seriously, get her out of here,” Octavia interjects. “She overworks and stays late out of guilt and loyalty, and it’s entirely unnecessary.”

“Keep insisting, and I’m gonna say yes,” Clarke shoots back, almost threatening if not for her smile.

“Good. Then you can stop badgering me about fucking tea lights.” Octavia flicks the side of Clarke’s head and smacks her ass as she passes by to clear more tables, and somehow Clarke is charmed by the violent affection.

“I’ll stay and keep her company,” Lincoln offers. “You guys should take off. Enjoy the early night.” He then leans in closely to them both, his head bent in conspiracy. “And, I really do like those paper lanterns that you guys string up on the deck sometimes.”

The way Clarke’s entire countenance glows, eyes sparkling in victorious mischief, has Lexa’s smile growing in kind.

“I. Love you. You wonderful, wonderful human.” Clarke places her hands affectionately on either side of Lincoln’s face and looks as if she might actually plant a kiss between his eyebrows. “I will not let you down or betray your confidence.” Her tone is gravely solemn as if they are alluding to something far more serious than wedding decor.

“Give me a second to gather my things from the office?” she then says to Lexa, her voice shifting to that delicate timbre that turns Lexa’s beating heart to a useless puddle.

She tells her, “Take all the time you need.”

“I’ll be quick.” Clarke reaches for her fingers, giving them a quick squeeze, and disappears into the back hallway.

“Did I mention we did very well, ending up with these two?”

Lexa looks over to catch Lincoln’s giant grin and feels her own lips stretching into a smile. “I’m proud of us.”

Lincoln very nearly giggles. “Me too.”

A beat or two of amicable silence passes between them, in which time Octavia has returned behind the bar to tend to her few, straggling guests.

“What are the chances Clarke already has a shitload of decorations she’s been stockpiling for this party?” Lincoln contemplates aloud.

Lexa’s response comes without hesitation.

“Oh yeah, without question.”

:::

#a beer bud series #apu #a pleasant undoing #brewkru!

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amethystpath-writes · 4 years

Text

BTHB Communication Suddenly Cut Off

@badthingshappenbingo

Original work!

Communication Suddenly Cut Off

******

Hero adjusted her shoulder, elbow on the arm of her chair. "No way!" She dropped her spoon into her bowl of cereal. "She actually said that to him?"

On the other end of the line, Friend laughed. "Oh yeah. I don't blame her a single bit! I mean, he was borderline stalking her. You remember when we were at Max & Erma's and he dressed up as a waiter just to see her? Insane."

Picking her spoon back up and shoveling it into her mouth, Hero mumbled a 'Yeah, guess you're right'.

"So what have you been up to? I missed you at the party today. You doing alright?"

Bending forward with legs bent on the cushion, Hero put her bowl on the coffee table in front of her. She grabbed her phone with a hand instead of holding it between her head and shoulder. Hero was cramping enough without having to take up weird body positions.

"I'm alright," she said. "Just exhausted from work, you know?" Exhausted from fighting a villain you hopefully know nothing about.

Friend was silent for a moment. "I get it. It sucks not seeing you though. Maybe we could have a movie night." Her voice pitched at this. "Be exhausted all you want that way. I'll get us some popcorn. And! I'll get the nacho cheese stuff to sprinkle over it!" Hero smiled in her seat. "I'll pick up a few movies from Redbox, too, so we don't have to watch a bunch of oldies. Okay, that's it. That's the plan. Now," Friend hummed then began mumbling, "It's five o'clock and Mom needs eggs from the store. I'll try to be there by-"

The line went fuzzy, a quiet chshhhhhh. "Friend? Hey, you're cutting out." Hero stood from the chair, walking to the window. Maybe there was better reception there? If it was on Friend's end then it didn't matter much, but she could at least try. "Friend? You there?" She pulled the phone away, the screen of her phone lighting up. Hero was on a second call. No name though. Weird. She hung up, or at least tried to. The screen hadn't changed when she tapped the little red phone. Hero tapped it again, but nothing happened.

Next time she tapped the counting timer that told her how long she was on a call with Friend. The phone call returned normally and the other disappeared. She shook her head.

"H-ero? I th-ink-"

Hero cut to the chase. The call wasn't getting any better. "What time?"

Chshhhhhh.

Damnit, Hero thought, and peeked at her phone again. 'Unknown Caller' it read for a second time. "Hello?" she said impatiently. No answer. "Hellooo?" Nothing.

She hit the home screen, tapping the text message icon then tapped on Friend's contact. 'Hey. Phones are acting weird. What time do you think you'll be here?' Hero typed. Hitting send, a red and encircled X appeared. 'Message failed to send' it said below. She touched the X and then touched where it said 'Retry'. The X reappeared. Hero repeated the process once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. Nothing, nothing, nothing. "What the hell?" Her phone was slow sometimes, but never this bad. "She'll get here when she gets here I guess."

Her phone began to ring just as she tossed it on the couch across the room. Sighing, she went to pick it back up. 'Unknown Caller'. No. If it was important, they could leave a message or text her. Hero didn't pick up from numbers she didn't know, or from numbers that didn't appear on screen. She pushed the lock button on the side of the phone, rejecting the call.

"How rude, rejecting my call."

Hero froze. Her shoulders drew tight, her spine straightened so much that it cramped as badly as when she held her phone with a shoulder. Her jaw clenched and her eyes went wide, staring vacantly at the couch cushion in front of her. Was Hero breathing? If she was, she didn't feel it.

"Won't talk to me on the phone and now not in person either, hm?"

Goosebumps rose along her arms as she heard the villain stepping closer. How had he gotten in? She turned. "How did you find me? Where did you get my information? What else do you know?" Information being both her address and phone number, maybe even her specific phone if he was able to block her communications the way he did.

Villain looked so casual, he always did. You'd never expect him to be a madman who plotted humanity's demise. He looked like a fancy historian; brown pants, black turtleneck, plaid and half buttoned jacket. He had his hands planted in his pants pockets now. Hero still had no idea how he managed to get inside of her apartment.

He chuckled at her uptight-ness. "Can't we just chat for once- for a minute before you question my how-comings and motives?"

"No," Hero responded shortly.

Villain fake-pouted. "How's come? You and your friend seem great. I would love to gossip to you the same way."

Hero rolled her eyes. Her shoulders were still tense, but she was relaxing- not so far that she wasn't prepared, but just enough that she wasn't uptight beyond movement. "You didn't answer me. What else do you know? How did you learn anything about me?"

He smiled at her. "Now that's a fun story. Guess I get to monologue after all."

"Make it short."

"Or what?" He dazzled her with a wider smile, one that showed teeth. Was it just her or were they sharpened? It was just her, definitely just her- and her anxiety, her terror.

Villain strode to the chair Hero had been sitting in just minutes ago. He plopped down, ankle on knee, arms on either side. "Go on," he told her. "Sit."

"Maybe you should stand."

He chuckled without moving. "Darling, I don't think you understand how easy I have been on you. In multiple ways, actually." His eyes fell from her own to the couch behind her. "Sit." Villain looked at Hero again and she swore something changed in his eyes. They almost seemed darker. She obeyed.

"Now, I think you recall that little stalker of your friend?" Hero squinted, but nodded. "Did you know he's able to take up the appearance of anyone he wishes?" He didn't wait for a response. "In that, he's also able to project his own appearance onto bystanders, even control what they would do as him. Very talented, very...mindfully aware."

Hero shook her head. "Where are you going with this?"

He shushed her, softly, as if she was a baby. "He came under my employment about a month ago. Remind me," he said, "how long ago it was that your friend became ill."

Her eyes went wide and she nearly launched from her seat, realizing what he meant. Villain might attack her if she acted out so suddenly though. Hero remained seated.

"What have you done with her?" she demanded. It made sense what he said. Whoever his worker was, he made himself look like Friend 2 then made anyone else appear like him. But where was Friend 2 if she hadn't been with Hero and Friend all along?

"Nothing too dastardly. She isn't starving, but I'm sure she would appreciate a nice chicken dinner."

"And Friend?" she asked, somewhat panicked. Friend was okay, she had to be. Yeah, the phone call ended somewhat abruptly, but that was just because Villain interfered. Beyond that, she was fine, right?

Villain shrugged. "What do you think?"

Her eyes stung with tears she refused to let fall. She shook her head. "Why are you here? What are you doing?"

"Entertaining myself mostly. You're my opponent. I wanted to brag."

"I'll kill you," she swore. "If not tonight, I will find you like you did me, and I'll kill you when I do."

Villain's eyes twinkled from afar. "Cute. Very cute." He laughed heartily. "I told you already that I've been easy on you, right?" Again, he didn't wait for an answer. "I'm here for more than bragging rights. I want you to come with me. I've given you opportunity enough to back down on your own; I'm giving you another now. Come with, or I'll have to force your hand."

Her eyes became squinted and her lip lifted. "I'm sorry?"

"Surrender," Villain said simply. His legs uncrossed and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "If you don't I'll take you away forcibly."

Hero huffed a laugh. "As if you could. When have you ever bested me?" In truth, she was terrified. He was being serious, no amusement crossing his features. And the number of times he'd mentioned 'going easy on her'...what if he was telling the truth?

"Try something now then. Lunge at me." His lips were in a straight line. No emotion.

She considered him. Serious. He's serious. Villain was inviting her to attack him. Maybe she should take the opportunity.

Without another thought, she leaped from the couch, ready to tackle Villain, even though he was in a chair. She would have knocked the whole chair back if she could. But, something stopped her, a- a wall of sorts, one that glimmered like a bubble. "What-?" She touched that wall. Her fingers couldn't pass through. Shaking her head, she spun on a heel trying to return to the couch. Unfortunately she ran into another wall. "You're doing this," Hero muttered, facing Villain once again. She swallowed seeing his smile.

"So, you'll come with on your own. Otherwise I can push you along myself, and I think that would be rather humiliating, don't you?"

"This doesn't prove anything. You can push me, but you can't command me."

"Isn't it the same?" Villain sighed seeing Hero's fiery stubbornness. "Fine then. Let's have a little charade." He stood from Hero's chair, face forming into something...something Hero didn't quite understand. "I forgot to grab something to drink before I came here. Do you have something for me to drink, Hero?"

Her lips moved. "Yes, of course, Villain. Let me show you to the kitchen." Her hand flew to her mouth afterward. She hadn't said that. She hadn't said that. Hero's eyes found Villain's.

"Lead the way," he said.

Hero's feet moved on their own, leading the two to her kitchen despite how she tried to resist. She couldn't even feel herself pulling back. There was no resistance except for in her thoughts. She began unwillingly talking again. "There's some water bottles in the bottom right drawer. Fruit punch juice boxes on the left- though my younger cousin will be disappointed when she finds not only me missing, but her juice as well." 'When she finds not only me missing.' So this was how Villain would take her, by commanding her just like she said he couldn't.

What was almost worse was that what Villain made her say was exactly right. Water bottles, bottom right drawer. Fruit punch juice boxes in the left drawer. One of three things could have happened. One, Villain had that stalker, body-switching guy, go through her home while she was gone. Two, Villain himself went through her house while Hero was absent, or when he somehow snuck into her house while simultaneously messing with her phone today. Three, he had access to her mind. The last one would have sounded ridiculous if it weren't for the way Villain was controlling her now.

"You're realizing you have no choice now, aren't you?"

Hero nodded her head. She couldn't tell whether it was her doing it or if Villain was still possessing her. Either way, he was right.

"Why?" she asked. Villain tilted his head. Hero believed he could have gotten his answer if he wanted. Still, she continued, "Why are you doing this? Taking me? Is it not enough that you've taken my friends?"

Her body turned to the exit. She began walking through, walking to the front door of her apartment. They were really leaving. She was going to get sick.

"I'm tired of you fighting is all. It will be much easier to accomplish my goals if I don't have to worry about turning you away every time."

"Then kill me." She swallowed after she said it. Hero didn't really want him to kill her, but she also didn't want to be taken. Villain said Friend 2 was okay, not starving, but would certainly be happier if she was given more. Hero had a feeling she wouldn't be given the same treatment. Villain might actually starve her because of her putting a kink in all of his plans, for not surrendering when she was given multiple chances to.

"Am I really so awful to be around?" Villain asked behind her as she led the way to the elevators. "I should think my style makes up for any unpleasantness. This jacket was bought yesterday. I'm rather dashing in it, aren't I?"

Just as unwillingly as before, Hero said, "Yes, very."

******

Requests are accepted!

#not a prompt #long post #hero x villain #creepy villain #creepy whumper #hero whumpee #vilain whumper #prompt: communication suddenly cut off #fandom: original work

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onebangtanstan · 4 years

Text

Power Style - Chapter Twelve : The group

I am in shock. Everyone is turning to me, following his gaze. They're starting to understand what is going on.

"KIM NAMJOON ARE YOU SERIOUS???" I'm yelling.

Yoongi tries to catch me as I start walking angrily towards Namjoon. As I'm arriving near him, I extend my arm and point my finger at him.

"You and me. Outside. Now."

He follows me out, and we're now facing each other once again. This is starting to become a habit. The cold doesn't even bother me at this point, my body is so hot from the rage.

I put a distance between us to be able to fully look at him while I spit my anger. He's standing as if nothing was wrong, with his hands still in his pockets, smirking at me.

I start scolding him.

"How could you do this?! You know how photoshoots work. And you just randomly decide to change your whole aesthetic?! As if it couldn't have waited until tomorrow?!" I am telling him off as if we was my child. I barely see the boys come out, I am too focused on him. "This is my job, and probably the biggest account I've ever done, and the only thing you seem interested in is how to fuck it up for me! What the fuck did I ever do to you?!" I can't see anything but his smirk at this point, which only enrages me more. I can't stop. "You are the most arrogant, annoying, disrespectful, ungrateful-" I vaguely hear someone call out my name "-cockiest piece of-"

"GINA!" I finally turn around to the sound of Jin calling me. He's standing right beside me. "Don't give into him." He whispers, looking deep into my eyes. He's right. I start to realize what I've just done.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No. What did I just do?" Jin takes me in his arms, which instantly heats me up. I didn't realize it but my body is numb from the cold.

"Breathe, Gina, breathe." Tae and Kook are beside us now too.

"Dude, even I wouldn't have went that far, and that's saying something." I hear Jimin talking to Namjoon.

Hobi is on the phone and soon hands his phone to Namjoon. Someone is obviously on the line, because I immediately hear a voice coming out of the device. Given the look on his face, he's probably being told off by someone above him, and he doesn't seem happy about it.

"Are you okay?" Hobi asks, arriving near our little crowd. "Do you need anything?"

I think of something. Something I haven't done in a very long time. But it's the only thing I can think of right now.

"Um.. I don't know.. I think I.." Why am I embarrassed? "To be honest I thinks I need a cigarette." I can tell that they weren't expecting this, but I see no judgement on their faces.

"Don't move." says Kook before running off to the parking lot.

He's back a few seconds later with a packet of cigarettes and a lighter.

"They're all yours. My drivers treat." I smile at him.

"Could I have some time alone guys?" They all nod, Jin takes me in his arms once again and proceeds to give me his coat.

As they walk back inside, I start looking for a place where I can sit down. Once that's done, I hold the packet in my hand and stare at it for a long time. Fuck it. I take one out and light it up, feeling the nicotine spread to my body.

I sit there and smoke my cigarette while staring ahead of me, contemplating what I just did. I hope this doesn't cost me the account, or even my job. I royally fucked up on this one, I never should have snapped that way at him. He's my fucking client.

I hear footsteps coming towards me, making my eyes focus again. I see Namjoon walking towards me.

"Please, just go." I tell him.

"I just want a light." What? He smokes? "Don't make that face, it's one cigarette here and there. Plus, I don't owe you anything. Give me the lighter."

"You do owe me this campaign." I start. "As for the rest, I agree. But it's not an excuse to treat my like shit."

"Please may I have your lighter?" He says ironically.

I simply lift my eyes up, handing him it. I can't get mad again.

I look up at him while he takes his first puff. Ok, he's hot. The hair colour really suits him, but it doesn't excuse the fact that he did it in the middle of shooting a campaign.

"Gina," The tone he's using startles me. I've never heard him talk to me like that, calmly, no anger in his voice. "I was just on the phone with my boss. I would like to apologize for what I did. I know it could have compromised all the work you've done." Sounds like a fake apology, but ok I'll take it.

"Look, Namjoon. We don't have to like each other. It's what I told you yesterday. But we are going to have to find a way to work together. We'll be seeing each other everyday for the next 6 months or so, and I can't be in this state of mind every time we see each other. And I most certainly can't fuck this account up, if I didn't already, it would jeopardize my entire career."

"Don't worry about that, the blame is on me." This feels weird. It's the first time we're talking without fighting. "As for work, I agree. What if we don't talk unless it's about Fila and the promotion? Would that work out?"

"Yeah I guess. We don't have a reason to talk other than that so yes." Wow. That was mature of him. "But it doesn't fix your hair problem."

"I'm an ass, I'm not stupid. I had a wig made exactly like how my hair looked yesterday."

That fucker. So it really was just to piss me off. He wanted to make a grand entrance, and he wanted that reaction of me. I swear t- Stop. Don't start again.

I simply stand up, finish my second cigarette -that I lit up unconsciously- and head back inside.

The atmosphere is tense when I walk in, and all heads turn to me. I sense a general relief when they see that I have calmed down.

"All right guys, we're shooting today. We've lost enough time, so let's speed everything up to finish in time." I direct to my staff.

The boys are almost done with makeup, while Namjoon is heading towards them, his wig in his hand.

"You are such an asshole." Jimin snarks

30 minutes go by, and we are all set to go. We start shooting, but we can still sense the tension in all of their faces.

"Guys, it's not working." I let them know. "Let's take a 15 minutes brake, have a coffee, some food, some air, I don't know, but let's all come back with a good energy, okay?"

Everyone scatters around the room. I sit down on my chair and just stare vaguely at the set up. A cup of coffee appears in my vision. The hand holding it is attached to Jin. He's standing beside me, Yoongi, Hoseok, Tae and Kook around him.

"Thank you" I smile at him as I grab the cup.

"What do you need Gina? We'll do anything to make your life easier." Jin is now kneeling down beside me.

I think for a bit but know exactly what has to be done. "Could you make us laugh?"

"WorldWide Handsome, at your service, you know?" I giggle. I knew this could lift my mood.

For the rest of the brake, I just watch Jin head over to each crew member, asking them if they know BTS. Kook is back to being the carefree boy he usually is, Tae and Hobi are having a dance battle with Yoongi as a judge.

From the side of my eye I can Jimin and Namjoon near the toilet, but don't pay too much attention to them. I focus on the others.

"All right people, let's get back into it!" Everyone takes their places, and we can already feel the mood has lifted up. Jin keeps telling jokes the whole time we shoot, making everyone relax as time goes by.

We take all the pictures we need before lunch. The company has ordered a bunch of food for us, and while we're waiting for it to arrive, I have a look at this mornings' shots. They are very good. I can see each of their personalities in them, but also their complicity. I stare at one particular pictures of them, and I think it will be the main visual for the campaign. I guess Jin had just made a joke, making Jungkook and himself laugh. The others all have a little smile on their faces. They look really cute.

"Hey, they're good looking men." Jin is looking over my shoulder. He points at himself. "Especially this guy."

"He's Jin from BTS, do you know them?" I smile at the sound of his laugh "He's known as WorldWide Handsome."

"I can see why." He answers.

The food finally arrives, and we all dig in. Well, almost all of us. I see Jimin roaming near the buffet, trying to decide what to go for. He ends up putting his plate back down and grabbing a apple and a bottle of water.

We finish eating and start cleaning up behind ourselves. I notice the apple on the table, half-eaten, and no Jimin. This is fucked up. He looks great, why does he do that to himself? I shouldn't say that, I know why he does that. Part of the reason I became an addict in the first place was because I thought I was fat. Nope, not going to think about that. I quickly clear my mind and focus on the filming part we have to do this afternoon.

The boys get changed while we arrange the set for the filming. I gather everyone around, staff and band, to give my directions.

"Okay everyone, we don't have much time to do this, and we will most likely have to do only one take per person. I'm gonna need everyone to put out their best work in order to make everyone else's lives easier. Do we all know what we have to do? Okay perfect, we can do this guys!"

Everyone rushes to their place, while I fill the boys in on what I'm going to need from them. They take place in front of the camera.

"Are we all ready? Aaand Action!"

We film all afternoon. Everything goes smoothly and I feel very relieved knowing we'll be done today. The only thing left will be the editing, and we'll be spending all weekend on that.

"We have everything we need guys! Thanks so much everyone, it's wrap!" I start clapping at my team, and everyone tags along.

I then head to the band.

"Thank you, you were brilliant today." Well almost. Thanks Namjoon. "I'll keep you updated during the weekend on how the editing is going. You can go now, thanks again."

As they head back to the dressing room, I start helping my team pack everything up. We have to empty the whole place since we won't be needing it anymore. I notice Namjoon and Jimin leave, but to my surprise, the others are helping out.

"Hey, no you don't have to do that."

"We said we wanted to make your life easier. This helps you all leave sooner." Jin says, as he picks up a cable.

"Yeah, and you and I have plans, so I'm staying until you're done. Might as well help out." Hobi tells me.

"Thank you guys, I really appreciate it."

We all get back to cleaning up, and we're done in about 30 minutes.

The crew leaves one by one with their respective equipment, but I have to stay until everyone is gone.

Jin comes up to me. "I have to go, but call me tonight?" He's holding my face in his hands. I nod and smile back at him, he answers with a kiss on my forehead. Yoongi leaves with him, and simply waves goodbye at me from afar.

Tae and Kook both give me a hug goodbye not long after Jin left. "Dinner at mine on Monday? To celebrate the launch." Tae asks.

"Absolutely!" I tell him.

Everyone is gone now, expect for Hobi who is just sitting on the floor. "Are we good to go?"

I check one last time if everything is in order, grab my stuff, and head out the door. I lock it behind me and turn to him, a smile on my face. "Let's go."

#bts #btsfanfic #fanfic #kpop #seoul #jin #tae #jin x oc #rm #rm x oc #hobi #hobi x oc #yoongi

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carreraleigh · 5 years

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Between Games and Truths

Part 1.

Pairing: Ethan x MC (Lia)

Rating: PG

Words: 1367

A/N: This is the first Ethan x mc story that I wrote and I'm really happy with the result, hope you all like it! And thank you so much again for reading this first @vienroose, you know how much I appreciate your guidance. Love u.

Summary: Ethan and Lia go to the conference in Miami, Lia saves Ramsey from an uncomfortable situation and Ethan doesn't know how much more he can resist his feelings.

Tags: @courtesan-of-garage @the-red-jhon @vienroose @lovehugsandcandy @zig-nazario @client-327 | if you want to be in the tag list just ask.

"Where is she, where is she" Ethan said and checked his wristwatch, impatient "She's five minutes late" he looked at the main entrance, watching people come and go excitedly. He was about to call her again until he received a message.

"I'm here" - Lia.

Ethan put his phone in his pocket and sat down next to the bar, he ordered a drink and continued to scan the crow. The bartender put a glass of whiskey in front of him and Ethan drank it in one gulp, his eyes looking at anyone who was passing by, until a figure blocked his view.

"Ethan Ramsey" he heard his name and payed attention to the girl who was in front of him "I can't believe it" she extended her hand, he hesitated to take it, but finally agreed.

"Sorry, do we know each other?" He said with a forced smile, he was not in the mood to talk, not while Lia hadn't arrived at the conference yet.

"I'm a big fan of yours" the girl moved her hair, trying to expose the great neckline that her dress had, bringing her breasts up. He looked at her for a second, then returned to pay attention to the people who were arriving.

"It's good to know that someone values my work" he said seriously, not paying attention to her "Now, if you'll excuse me" he tried to head for the door, but the girl blocked his path.

"I was thinking we could get to know each other better" the girl put a hand on his chest, he looked at her, surprised at her movement.

"¿And your name is?" he said, annoyed.

"Ashley" she said and winked at him.

"Ashley" he took her by both arms "Look Ashley, I don't know what you want, but whatever you're thinking is not going to happen"

"Why?" She said taking a step forward, trying to shorten the distance between them "Are you waiting for someone special?"

"It's not that..." Ethan was going to speak, but was interrupted by a voice behind him.

"Good evening" the girl said as she cleared her throat.

Ethan turned around and saw her. Damn. Lia wore a tight blue dress, her hair was elegantly pulled back, exposing her neck and collarbone, her eyes and lips were highlighted by the makeup she was wearing, she was smiling warmly, her teeth were extremely white and the shoes she was wearing made her a few inches taller. She had a martini in her hand, holding it with elegance. Ethan didn't take his eyes off her.

"Rookie" he said after a moment, regaining his composure. Lia looked at Ashley, who was standing next to Ethan and looking her up and down. lf looks could kill, Lia would already be ten meters underground.

"Ethan" Lia approached and took Ethan's hand, intertwining his fingers "Who is this girl, love?" she looked at Ashley, who was still looking at her angrily.

"She..." Ethan tried to find the words, but they didn't come out, and he never ran out of words. He remained focused on his hand, feeling how his skin and Lia's were rubbing.

"Ashley" the girl extended her hand in disgust, Lia took it with a smile.

"Nice to meet you, Ashley" the sarcasm could be heard in her voice "I'm Lia, Ethan's girlfriend. What can we do for you?" Lia put her arm behind Ethan, and he automatically did the same. Ashley looked at Ethan, he smiled at her as he pressed Lia closer to his body.

"I just came to say hi" she faked a smile "I'm glad someone has already come to keep him company" she looked at Lia "Excuse me"

Ashley turned around and walked away from them. Lia broke into laughter, delicately covering her mouth. Ethan looked at her again, still not saying anything while she laughed, his face was serious, but his heart was pounding harder than ever. Their eyes met again, and Lia noticed Ethan's serious expression. It was there that when they realized that they were still hugging, Lia stepped to the side, he did the same and cleared his throat.

"You're finally here" he said as he put his hands in his pockets, still staring at her.

"Yes, I'm sorry" she put her martini on the table "I had some problems with my makeup" Lia looked away, embarrassed. Ethan sighed and put his hand on Lia's arm, squeezing her.

"Thank you" he said, and when Lia's eyes met his gaze, he was smiling. He looked at her with an intensity in his eyes that she had never seen, and that made her curious. Ethan had never been someone who showed any kind of feeling in his expressions, he always kept that serious face, the deep look, you never knew what was going on in his mind until he said it, but that look was different.

"I could see from the distance that you needed a little help" she said, pulling back the lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face "I hope it didn't bother you"

Ethan was still looking at her with a smile, and inside he felt something he couldn't explain. Yes, he had seen her many times at work, yes, they had already been alone in a room, but that was the second time he had really admired her, the first time was night they she went to his home to talk about Dr. Banerji. This was different. He noticed for the first time how pretty her brown eyes were, and that she had a small mole next to her right eye, his lips were fleshy and well defined. A thousand images came to his head, and all involved things that he certainly couldn't say in front of all those people. He cleared his throat trying to get those thoughts out of his head.

"Not problem at all" he returned to his serious expression "I'm glad you arrived" he took out his wallet and gave some dollar bills to the bartender

"For the martini" he said.

"Ethan, that's not necessary," she said.

"You've earned it, Rookie." He smiled and offered his arm "¿Shall we?"

Ethan and Lia approached the stage seats, where a person in a suit stood talking into the microphone. Lia could see her name and Ramsey's name in the front seats. The two sat and turned their gaze to the stage. Lia took an agenda from her purse and began to write down what she was hearing.

Ethan looked at her as she wrote frantically in her agenda, trying not to miss any word of what they were listening to. He thought about the first time he had seen her, and how rude he had been with her that time. He was sure that Lia wasn't going to last a week in the hospital, that she was going to leave crying at the first obstacle, but there she was, next to him, taking notes and listening carefully. She was there because she deserved it, because although it was difficult for him to admit aloud, he had to eat back all his words about her. Suddenly he was so eager to hug her, to kiss her, to have her by his side, and he hated that sentiment because he thought it was totally unprofessional. She was a resident, he was the boss, and if anything he had learned from his relationship with Dr. Emery, is that love and work should never be in the same sentence, ever.

¿But why did he still feel his heart speed up every time he looked at her?, ¿Why did he run out of words with a single touch of her skin when she grabbed his hand?

He was losing control, and he didn't know how much he could resist.

"Lia" he said her name, and she turned to look at him. Lia saw how Ethan's eyes shone with the same intensity as a few moments ago. She looked at his lips, which were half open.

"¿Yes?" she said timidly. Ethan stood up abruptly, and without looking at her he straightened his tie and said.

"I need some air" he made his way to the balcony as fast as he could. Lia watched him leave, ¿was it something she had done?, ¿something she had said angered him?, maybe he had been bothered by the scene at the bar. Thousands of doubts crossed her mind at that moment. She let him go, trying to give him space, and her attention went back to the agenda.

Ethan went out to the balcony and, for the first time after hours, he felt relaxed. He sighed in relief and approached the balcony railing, he could see the entire city from there. His heart was still beating fast. "I don't know how much longer I can resist" he said to himself as he looked at the sky, trying to find strength to continue repressing those feelings that threatened to come out.

He stood there for a few moments, losing the notion of space and time, submerged in his thoughts, until a voice called him back to earth.

"Doctor Ramsey" he heard Lia calling him "Doctor Ramsey" her voice felt closer "Doctor Ramsey" he could hear her voice now right behind him.

He closed his eyes, trying to control himself. He felt Lia's hand on his shoulders trying to make him turn around, but he refused.

"¿Is something wrong?" she said, he still didn't look at her "If you feel bad or uncomfortable, we can..."

"Fuck this"

Ethan didn't let Lia finish the sentence.

He kissed her.

#open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #choices #playchoices #pixelberry

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leftbouquetfestivalus · 7 years

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this is a little sample of my book i hope some of you like it i just posted the cover of my book

SCANDALOUS

by Danni Hawkins

CHAPTER ONE

I'm sitting in class waiting for the last bell to ring.

I cannot wait until class is over., I look down at my watch. Fiftteen more minutes left until school is over. Why can’t this class can’t just hurry up?

I’m tapping my nails against my desk. I didn't realize how loud I was tapping my nails until Miss Gale call my name.

“Winter” Miss Gale yells my name, and I look up at Miss Gale. her.

Miss Gale is the assistant teacher who complains over every little thing. “Can you stop tapping your nails against the desk?

“"So I can't tap my nails against the desk now?

“You can, but I thought you would have a little more Respect when your classmates are doing their work. Can you try to care about other people besides yourself” she said with an attitude.

This bitch is worrying about me tapping my nails against the desk when the whole class is making noise.

I stand up. “I do care about other people. Who do you think you are?

Miss Gale picks up her head and looks at me. I am about to say something rude that will put me in detention, but I keep it to myself.

“Winter, are you done making a scene?

“That was no scene, but I will show you one if you’d like me to".

Miss Gale picks up her head and stares at me.

“Winter, one more disrespectful comment, and I will send you to detention and call your father.”

“Okay, call him. He's never home anyways.” Now everybody is staring at me.

“I'm warning you, Winter. You’re skating on very thin ice.”

“That’s okay. I know how to ice skate.” I have the whole class dying laughing.

Miss Gale takes a deep breath. “Know what, Winter. I'm going to take a walk. When I come back, I hope you have controlled your mouth.” Miss Gale walks out of the classroom, and I just roll my eyes at her, take a deep breath, and sit back down slowly in my seat.

My name is Winter Juliana Marian Marino. I live with my dad, Marcus. He's a lawyer. My mom, Diane, left us when I was younger because she chose her stupid career over us. Well, that's what my dad told me. She never once picked up the phone to call us. No letters, no “Happy birthday”s, no nothing. That’s the least she could do.

I don't get how a mother could leave her family like that. We were happy. They argued like all married people do, but the way they looked at each other… Nobody could fake that. It was nothing but love. I remember when Diane would hold me in her arms for hours and never let me go and kiss me all over my face and read me to sleep. What was so bad that she packed her bags and left? How many arguments did she have in her head before she decided she couldn't take it anymore? Or did she just leave and never look back?

My mom met my dad when he was moving from Italy to New York. Marcus used his Italian accent to hit on Diane. He claimed he was lost. That was a lie; he knew perfectly well where he was. What female doesn’t like a man with an accent? Of course she fell for his charm. The rest is history.

Marcus is Italian. He has big, green eyes, blonde hair, and a porcelain skin complexion. Diane is Trinidadian with a chestnut skin tone and short, curly hair. I think half of her hair was weave. My older brother Rome and I have caramel skin complexions and green eyes. Rome keeps his hair gelled up and spiky, and I have long, dark brown, curly hair. I prefer my hair straight, and it usually takes up to an hour to straighten my hair every day. I have my mom's curvy figure. The boys at my school say that my figure can cause car accidents. Idiots! Who makes up these dumb pick-up lines, and who’s dumb enough to fall for them?

Every boy at this school tries to get with me but never succeeds. It’s just not happening. They’re just not my type, and it’s a waste of my time.

My older brother Rome is away at college. He goes to the University of Miami. I miss him a lot. When he used to attend high school before I enrolled, every female wanted him. He's not even cute, but his name still travels around. Like, get over him; he's not even thinking about you.

I don't see the attraction these females have for him. The things he does are total turn-offs. He eats with his mouth wide open, and you can see all his food mashing up together. That's just plain nasty! Like, close your mouth.

Caridad's dumb ass walks into class. She’s always late. Walking behind her are her dumb butt-lickers. She's just mad I won't lick her butt like they do. She sits right in front of me. She turns around in her seat to face me. She stares at me and smiles like I just amused her, and she flips her hair. I personally believe Caridad is jealous of me because I don't take her crap, unlike her butt-lickers. They do everything she tells them to do. It's like they don't have minds of their own. It’s sad to watch. I stand up to her; I will never let someone like Caridad boss me around and treat me like crap, like I'm nothing. That will never be me. If I have something to say, I will say it. I won't bite my tongue for anyone, especially not trash like Caridad. I'm not afraid of anybody, and definitely not Caridad. Nobody puts fear in my heart. She needs to know she cannot control everybody. Every time she gets some type of attention, positive or negative, she shows off like she's so important. It's whatever. It's not always about you; get over yourself.

Caridad flips her hair and continues to smile and stare at me. She really has nothing better to do with herself than harass me. “Winter, I love your green contacts. What store did you buy them at?” she laughs, and so do her butt-lickers.

“Caridad, unlike you, I don't wear fake shit.”

“I do not wear anything fake.” She laughs and looks around to see if anybody is paying attention to her. Her voice gets louder so that everybody begins paying attention. “I'm all natural.” Caridad flips her hair and throws her arm in the air dramatically.

“Caridad, the weave in your hair is FAKE.” I remember when we were in middle school, I walked in the bathroom and saw her taking off a wig. The length of her real hair stopped at the beginning of her neck. “The contacts are FAKE. Everything about you is FAKE. Don't try to deny it; you will just embarrass yourself. You’re just a wannabe. Look at your fake, wannabe-bougie ass.”

"Well, I heard you were adopted.”

This bitch wants to get slapped. “You didn't hear shit about me because I'm not adopted. Caridad, keep spreading lies about me, and I…” I have to take a deep breath. “Know what, forget it. You're not even worth it. You’re just mad you're not me.”

“Trust me, Winter, I don't want to be like you.”

“Yes, you do. You try so hard to be like me. It's cute though.” I just smile at Caridad. “I think it’s adorable that you look up to me.”

Caridad flips her hair. “Please, Winter, don't flatter yourself.”

“Caridad, everybody knows you want to be just like me. You even dyed your hair the same color as mine and got the same bag as mine—even though mine is real. What, you get that bag from the 99-cent store? But who’s counting, right?” I hear someone say, “Oooh, she got you! Check mate!” Everybody starts laughing, and Caridad gets really quiet. I can tell she’s embarrassed now. She continues to insult me, but I get bored of her and ignore her.

I have one best friend, Terri-Ann. She's got a dark brown skin complexion and short, bouncy, curly hair. Every time she moves, you can see her curls bounce, too. I tell her everything. Terri is the sweetest person you can meet, but don't get on her bad side. She will make your life nothing but hell—I’ve seen her do it.

The bell finally rings. I grab my books quickly and walk out of class. I bump into Jay, almost knocking him down, but I catch him before he falls on the floor. “My bad, Jay.”

Jay is conceited, and not in the sexy way. He carries a mirror in his back pocket, and he takes it out just to look at himself. Really, who does that? He hits on every girl who gives him some type of attention.

“Did you see Terri?” I asked Jay.

“Um…no, but I saw her earlier.”

“Well, if you see her, tell her I was looking for her.”

“Okay, I will, Winter. No dance today?”

“No, not today.” I take dance lessons at a studio three days a week. I want to be a professional hip-hop dancer and teach choreographed dancing.

I drive home and walk inside. “Dad?” I call out. No answer. He's probably still at work. I take my mug that I made in pottery class out of my bag and place it with the rest of the family photos on the mantel in the living room. Marcus has removed every picture of Diane. I walk into the kitchen and make myself a sandwich. I'm really fed up with Caridad. She gets under my skin. I don't show it, but she gets me so angry. One of these days she's going to catch me on a bad day where I say, “Fuck self-control,” and fuck that bitch up.

Marcus walks into the living room.

“Hey, Dad. When you get home?”

“Around two, I think.”

“Well, I was calling you.”

“Sorry, I had ear plugs in my ears.”

“Dad, why did you have ear plugs in your ears?”

“I'm working on this big case.” Marcus is a workaholic. Ever since Diane left us, all he does is work, work, and more work. I think that's how he deals with his pain. He never takes a vacation. The last time we went on a vacation, Diane was still here. We went to Disney World.

“Dad, you need to take a vacation.”

“I know, it's this case.”

“Dad, there's always going to be a case.”

I sit on the couch next to Marcus and finish my sandwich.

Terri storms through the front door like she lives here. Anybody could rob us because Marcus never locks the front door.

Terri sits next to me on the couch. “Hello, Mr. Marino,” Terri greets Marcus.

“Hello, Terri,” Marcus says back. Marcus walks out of the living room and into the kitchen.

“O.M.G., Winter, my mom is driving me crazy.”

“What happened this time?” Terri thinks her mom is out to ruin her life.

“So I was in the dining room texting Mark.”

“As usual,” I say. Terri smiles. Mark is Terri’s head-over heels, can't-live-without-you boyfriend. They've been dating since junior high school.

“My mom came in the kitchen and said she thinks Mark and I are getting way too serious.” Terri didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“So what did you say?”

“I told her how I felt. I said, ‘Instead of worrying about my relationship, worry about your marriage. You can’t even keep Dad home.’”

“You said that?”

“Yes,” Terri says quickly, acting like what she said was nothing.

“Terri, that was harsh. What did your mom say?”

“She slapped me in the face, so I left. I should call A.C.S. on her. That’s child abuse, you know.”

“Terri, you’re sixteen years old. That is not an A.C.S. case, and you probably hurt her feelings.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“She’s your mother, and she deserves some respect.”

“I know, but she never gives me room to breathe. She’s always hovering over me. Winter, it’s like I’m suffocating. All she says to me is, ‘You'll thank me one day.’ Thank her about what? All she said was that she thinks Mark and I are getting too serious and that I’m just a teenager who can't control my emotions.”

“Do you talk to her?”

“All the time.”

“Terri, just talk to her.”

“Are you even listening to me? I always talk to her.”

“Terri, that’s not what I mean. I want you to really talk to her and make sure she hears you, not just listens to you. She is your mother, and you need give her some respect. At least she cares and didn’t leave you for her job.”

“You’re right.” Terri takes a deep breath; she doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, but then she looks at me. “I’m sorry, Winter, you’re right.”

“Don’t apologize to me; apologize to her.” I change the subject. I hate talking about my mother; it gets me upset.

“So how's Mark treating you?”

“Great!” Terri blushed. I really don’t want to know what that’s all about.

Marcus walks in the living room wearing a tacky, red, ripped apron around his waist. “Dinner time.”

We walk to the bathroom to wash our hands. My dad has cooked smothered pork chops, mashed potatoes with gravy, and string beans, as well as homemade iced tea. Nobody utters a word; the meal is so good, nobody has anything to say. I even have a second plate.

After we finish eating, Terri stands up.

“Mr. Marino, that was excellent,” Terri says, rubbing her flat belly.

“Winter used to tell me how much she enjoyed my cooking. Now, look!” I roll my eyes, and Marcus stands up.

“Well, I will see you kids later,” Marcus says, leaving the dining room.

I start to wash the dishes while Terri cleans the table. “Terri, you know you don’t have to clean.”

“I know,” Terri says as she grabs the rag out of the sink.

“Winter, can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.” Terri rolls her eyes at me, and I laugh, saying, “Okay, go ahead, Terri, and ask me.”

“Why don’t you date anymore?”

If I had known she was going to ask me this question, I would have said “No.” I look up at the ceiling, thinking, Not this again. She had asked me the same question a couple of months ago. “Terri, didn’t we discuss this already?”

Terri hands me the dishes. “Yes, but I need to keep pushing you. Look at you. You’re beautiful and popular, and you’re the captain of the dance team and, don’t forget, my best friend. Any guy would love to date you, but you shut them all down. You don't give any guy a chance.”

“Terri, it’s not all about dating. There’s more to life than guys. Guys will come and go and break your heart and some.” I smile and continue, “There will be the one guy I’ll fall in love with, and nothing else will matter. But first I want to explore, Terri. Have fun, party, go out. I’ll find a guy, but when I do I want to be ready.”

“Winter, you haven’t been dating since middle school.”

I roll my eyes; here we go, again. “Terri, stop. Please. When I start dating, you will be the first to know, so drop it.”

Terri lets out a breath in frustration and says, “Fine.” She looks down at her watch. “I better get going before my mom sends the police squad looking for me.” She smiles and kisses me on my cheek before leaving through the front door.

I head upstairs to take a nice, hot shower. I walk downstairs into the kitchen, open the freezer, and take out a gallon of strawberry ice cream. I sit on the couch pretzel-style, watching a movie and eating ice cream. I fall asleep without realizing it; when I wake up, my gallon of ice cream is all melted. Half-asleep, I head upstairs to my room to use the bathroom, and then I climb onto my bed and fall right back to sleep.

The next morning, Marcus wakes me up by shaking me awake. “Winter.” Marcus continues shaking me. When I open my eyes, he looks mad.

“Yeah,” I whine.

“Get up.”

“Give me a few minutes.” I throw the covers back over my head to go back to sleep.

“Winter, if you don't get up now, you will be late. You don't have another few minutes to sleep.”

I sit up quickly on my bed. “What?”

“I said, you don't have—!”

I cut him off. “I heard you the first time.”

“What happened?” he demands. “You were supposed to have been up and almost ready by now.” I can hear the attitude in his voice.

“I know. I know, Dad. I forgot to set my alarm clock last night.”

I brush through my messy hair.

“Winter, hurry up,” he says sternly before leaving my room.

I jump out of my bed and take a quick shower. I usually take a longer shower than this, but I'm running late. I blow out and straighten my hair quickly; it isn’t really as straight as it normally looks. I grab my brush out of my dresser, brush my hair into a neat ponytail, and curl my bangs. I put on my sliver hoop earrings—not those fake ones you buy in the 99-cent store—that fake shit is cheap. I wear the real silver earrings with the real diamonds.

I get dressed and apply my red lip gloss that makes my lips nice and juicy and plump. I make my bed; I don't usually make my bed, but what the hell? I'm feeling lucky today. I know, I know: You don’t have to remind me. Marcus tells me all the time that I take a long time getting dressed, but you have to pay a big price when you’re beautiful like me. You can’t rush perfection.

I grab my book bag and head downstairs. Marcus has already left for work. He left on the countertop my favorite blueberry muffin. I take a big bite and pour a cup of hot, fresh, steaming French vanilla coffee. I inhale the aroma and sip on my coffee slowly, so I won't burn my tongue. I grab my keys off the coffee table, and I walk out the front door. When I arrive at school, I park in the students’ parking lot.

I get out and spot Terri and Mark kissing like there’s no more air left. “Get a room!” I shout jokingly.

Terri smiles, shakes her head at me, and continues to kiss Mark. As I walk over to Terri, she breaks their kiss.

“I forgot to set my alarm clock this morning, and my dad had to wake me up. He was mad.” Mark kisses Terri on the lips quickly.

“I’ll see you later, babe,” Mark says to Terri and kisses her again on the lips. “Later, Winter.”

I just nod my head. I don’t really talk to Mark. We only say “hey” and “bye” to each other for Terri’s sake. It’s not that I don't like him; we just disagree on a lot of things that will turn into arguments, so for the love of Terri we just don't say anything to each other but “hey” and “bye.”

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