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jakesimfromstatefarm · 3 years

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not jealous | jake sim

summary: jake sim is not a jealous person. at least that's what he tells himself. so why does he find himself going through your phone when a certain "bluejay park" decides to text you?

pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. mentions of jay park]

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: angst, cursing (very minimal), one slightly suggestive sentence, jake being cute, some more angst lol, slightly cheesy bc jake’s just too cute ugh

wc: 3.8k

a/n: ok i loved writing this, which is why i went on to almost 4k words LOL oops. but anyways, i love jake a little too much and this type of scenario has been running around in my head for a while now so i decided to put it into words. also i may have created this blog just so i could post this somewhere LMAO anyways yeah this was my first fic so hope you guys enjoyyyy <3

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

At least that's what he tells himself. To be fair, in his past relationships, he never showed any jealously. Then again, he doesn't know if he can call those relationships, "relationships". Does a fifth grade relationship with a girl who he was once dared to kiss during a game of Truth or Dare in the basement of a classmate's house during their 11th birthday party count? He doesn't remember being jealous when the same girl was later dared to kiss his classmate, Sunghoon. (Funny enough, that's how the two boys came to be best friends 'til this day, but that's a story for another time.)

But really, Jake doesn't think jealously is one of his traits, even if he's now almost 20 years old without any experience with love other than his current relationship with you and that short-lived romance in the fifth grade. (What was her name again? Jake would have to ask Sunghoon later.)

So he doesn't know what clicked in that brain of his that lead him to this current situation he was in. He doesn't know why he felt a little spark of anger in him when your phone, which you left right next to him on the couch while you went to take a shower, kept buzzing with texts from "bluejay park". He doesn't know why he couldn't kept his eyes distracted from the messages, although your phone was constantly lighting up because whatever it was Jay had to say to you, he would not shut up about it. He doesn't know why he questioned what your relationship with Jay was for a split second.

In fact, you're close with all of Jake's friends. That's one of his favorite things about you, you get along so well with all his friends you might as well replace Jake himself in the friend group. So he doesn't know what tells him to take a little glance at your phone—at the messages.

But he finds himself doing it anyways.

Hearing that the water in the shower was still running (you were always the type to take long showers), he quickly grabs your phone and scrolls through the lock screen just to find that he couldn't even read the messages since you had your notifications set so no one could read them unless the phone was unlocked (darn you and your settings!) Thankfully, Jake knew your passcode––and you knew his too––or he thought he did. Until the iPhone vibrated, telling him the passcode was wrong.

He must've entered it too fast or something. So he tries again.

And again.

Until the iPhone switches its screen to say: "iPhone is disabled. Try again in 5 minutes."

There's no way. You never change your password. And even if you did, you would tell him—you two even had each other's fingerprints saved into each other's phones in the past (you know, before the world decided that Apple's home button was too lame and decided to just completely get rid of it). If there was an option to save multiple faces for Face ID, you two would be that couple that saved each others faces in your own phones.

That being said, Jake sat there, your phone in hand, frozen. Why was your phone locked? Why was Jay texting you 10 texts per second? Why did he feel guilty about this entire situation?

He hears the shower switch off and in that moment, he swears he feels his heart beat just a little faster. He tells himself there's no way you'll be out before the 5 minutes are up. You followed a really meticulous skincare routine (one that Jake memorized by now) that took an extra 15 minutes of your time after each shower.

"Hey Jake?" Your voice calls out from the tiny bathroom door crack that you left open before you hopped in the shower, "Is my phone out there? Do you mind bringing it to me?"

Fuck.

Jake shifts on the couch. Taps his foot on the ground. Returns your phone to its original spot. Clears his throat.

"Don't you want to get dressed first?" he calls back, quite timidly.

He can hear you stop moving around in the bathroom. Probably telling yourself what an odd response that was. To be fair, it was an odd question, considering the fact that you two have been together for so long, it’s not like he hasn’t seen you undressed before...intentionally or not.

Next thing he knows, the steam is rolling out of the bathroom door and you're stepping out in your towel, eyebrows raised.

"If you didn't want to get up from the couch, you could've just said so, you lazy butt," you smirk at him as you walk towards him and the couch, leaving a faint trail of water drops behind you. Jake's eyes follow your figure as you go to grab your phone and lift the screen towards yourself.

That's when he freezes. You do too.

You cock your head, as if asking yourself why it was disabled. He can hear the gears in your head turning.

"Jake, did you try to unlock my phone?"

He runs through all the possible excuses he could blurt out. Come on Jake, think of something! But he knows he can't lie to you.

Too many beats of silence pass by.

"Maybe," he finally says—or more like murmurs. He looks up to you like a child looking up at their mom, who just them caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. To his surprise, you don't show any hint of anger. A flash of confusion—and is that worry he sees?—crosses your face for a split second before you shrug and turn towards your room to change, dropping the subject. It was natural for you two to use each other's phones anyways. So then why did you have that look of worry?

Jake knows you well, a little too well. But that's what you love about him. He can easily read all your emotions. One of the many things he picked up from dating you for almost two years now. But why would you care if he tried to get into your phone? Why would that worry you? All the possibilities run through head and his own worry begins to increase. He trusts you. He does.

So then why does the thought bother him throughout the entire day? Why does he bring it up during dinner later that night, when you're both cuddled on your sofa, slurping take-out ramen while rewatching your favorite k-drama under the thick blanket that you always keep in your living room for nights like these?

"Huh? Of course I've heard from Jay today, we had that conversation about that stupid meme you boys kept laughing about in the groupchat we're all in, didn't we?" You answer him when he asks if you've heard from Jay lately. You sit up from your warm spot under Jake's arm to put your empty bowl on the coffee table in front of you. When you lean back, you look up at him,

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just wondering," he says, avoiding your eyes by keeping his own trained on the series currently playing on your TV. This would be your third time rewatching this series together. He would never complain to you though, he knows how much you love it and if he were being honest, he was secretly attached to the characters—not that he would ever tell you, he would never hear the end of it from you and the boys.

"You're being weird. Just tell me, or did you forget that I can practically read your mind," you say with a giggle and shove to his side, the one you were currently warmly cuddled into. Jake wasn't the only one who learned how to read emotions; you could read him just as well as he could read you. And like you, that's one of the many things he loved about you. But maybe not in this case.

He toyed around with the contents inside his ramen bowl with his chopsticks.

"I just..." God, how does he word this? Why was he having trouble explaining it? You were the easiest person to talk to. To him, you were the only person he could tell everything to.

"Jaywastextingyouabunchearlier," he blurts out quickly, but not quickly enough for you to miss it.

He feels you shift under his arm. He feels the air in the room shift. Tension.

"What?" Now you're sitting upright, legs criss-crossed in front of you on the couch but turned, so your body is completely facing him. He mirrors you, sitting up to put his ramen bowl next to yours on the surface, but he stays facing the TV.

"Your phone kept going off because of him when you were showering," he says with a little more confidence. But inside, he was nervous as hell, the same nervous as when he asked you out for the first time many moons ago. But it's too late to back out now, he brought it up first, anyways. Guess we're having this conversation now, good going Jake!

"Is that why you tried unlocking my phone earlier? I mean I thought you were just trying to leave selfies on my phone like you always do but you were trying to read my texts?" You question, slightly raising your soft voice. He doesn't know how to react, he hates confrontation.

"It wasn't like that, Jay just kept spamming you and like I—why was he even texting you in the first place? Then your phone got disabled because you changed your password, which you never do by the way, so I–"

"I changed it because my little sister kept getting into my phone when I went to visit my family yesterday! Did you really think I was hiding something from you? You know I can text whoever I want, right? You don't own me."

Okay so now he's managed to make you angry. Good going Jake, part 2!

"Okay but what does Jay need from you so bad that he has to send you like 50 messages at once?" He's standing now. So are you, eyebrows furrowed together as you collect your bowls from the table.

Standing there, bowls in hand, you say, "Jake, that's none of your business! It wasn't even that big of a deal, I don't know why you felt the need to nosy around."

"Well, if he's texting you non-stop, then obviously it's a big deal! We wouldn't even be having this conversation if you would just tell me what you guys were talking about," he murmurs back, eyes narrowing. You scoff as you trail into your kitchen. He follows behind and stops at the other side at your kitchen island as you place the dirty dishes into the sink.

"No, we're having this conversation because you obviously don't trust me! It doesn't matter what we were talking about, it doesn't matter who I was texting! I could be texting your mother and I shouldn't have to tell you what we were talking about! That's why we're having this conversation," you say as you turn back to face him from the other end.

He hates this. He hates fighting with you (which is a very, very rare occasion). He hates that you think he doesn't trust you. He hates his insecurity eating at him, telling him to keep questioning you on why you and Jay were talking in the first place. He was aware that you were close with his friends, but it wasn't until the texts he realized just how close you are with them. It's not that he didn't trust you, he just didn't know how to act when it came to you and other guys. God knows how he got lucky enough to meet you, let alone date you, so the thought of him losing you to someone else actually terrified him. Not only were you his first real relationship, but he wanted you to be his first and only one in life. You were it for him.

"Why did he text you." He deadpans from his side of the kitchen.

You scoff with a hint of exasperation. "You're kidding me."

You stare at him. He stares back, quirking an eyebrow, as if restating the same question back, as if testing you.

You're fuming now. Why was he making it so hard? Why was he doubting you? Out of frustration, you start laughing, which scares him. That can't be good.

"Fine. You wanna know so bad? Take a look," you're one tone level away from screaming as you take your phone out of your pocket, unlock it, and open up your conversation with "bluejay park", sliding the phone across the island to reach him.

Jake stares at the phone which now lies there, unlocked, facing him. Isn't this what he wanted? It is, right? That's why he started this dreaded argument with you in the first place.

Then why does he feel so fucking awful?

He looks back up at you, to see you sighing and looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to force your forming tears back into your eyes.

Yup, he feels horrible.

"Happy? Happy to know we were just trying to plan a surprise birthday party for you but you and your jealously just had to know huh, Jake?" You quickly state, voice cracking, as you tried not to choke up. You weren't sad that he found out about the surprise. You were sad that it felt like he didn't trust you. That he thought you were the type of person to do god knows what behind his back. You hated the feeling of not being trusted. Especially by Jake, of all people.

"Fuck."

Jake's face (and heart) falls with the most broken expression you've ever seen. But you're too sad, angry, tired (a mix of all?) to care. Your only goal right now is to not let him see you cry.

You hurry past him, across your apartment, and into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you, leaving behind a shocked, and regretful, Jake.

His heart shrinks when he hears the door slam shut and a little more when he looks down at the still unlocked phone in front of him. He didn't have the heart in him to look at it anymore. Of course he trusted you, he knew what you said was the truth.

He mentally screams at himself for assuming the worst––for thinking that you, a literal angel, would betray him. First, he thought he was losing you to someone else. Now, he was afraid he just lost you through his own actions.

He hesitantly sulks over to your door, softly knocking when he reaches it.

"Y/N?"

No response.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I let my—”

"Jake just please leave me alone for now," he hears you painfully say from a distance, meaning you're on your bed. He knows the door's unlocked—the lock on your door hasn't been working for a long time now, despite the many times he tells you to talk to your landlord about it. But he doesn't find it in him to open it. He knows he messed up. If he saw you in there right now, crying, he wouldn't know what to do. He wouldn't know what he would to do himself, knowing he was the reason behind your tears.

He nods in silence, knowing you can't see him, but does so anyways and returns to his spot on the couch. He could leave right now, go back to the dorm with the rest of the guys, let you have your space like you wanted. But his heart hurts at the idea of leaving you sad, angry, or a combination of both. He can't leave this unresolved. He fucked up, he has to fix it.

And so he sits on your couch for another hour. The clock on the wall behind him continues to tick as the silent tension in your apartment continues to grow. When it hits 11pm and he's sure you've slumbered off into sleep, he quietly enters your room.

He can see your figure in the dark, your back facing the door as you're curled up into yourself under the comforter. He feels his heart drop a little more when he imagines you crying in that position from earlier. He slowly peels the comforter open and gets into his side of the bed, careful not to bother your sleeping figure.

Laying there, staring up at the ceiling, he's never felt more like a stranger in your bed. It's not that he hasn't slept over before, god knows he's probably slept over at your place more than he has in his own bed. But right now, in this moment, he just felt awful. Like he didn't deserve to be in such close proximity to you. How could he be deserving? He violated your privacy, made you feel like you weren't trusted, doubted your relationship.

These thoughts run through Jake's head as he stares up at your ceiling fan, wishing he could turn back time to a few hours ago, before he checked your phone, before he let his insecurities get to the best of him.

You can feel the dip he makes in the bed behind you when he gets in. Of course you're not asleep. There's no way sleep could reach you when you had the recent events constantly replaying in your head like a broken record.

You knew Jake with all your heart. You didn't have to look at him to know he was probably laying there, hurt, staring up at the ceiling, drafting what to say once you wake up—or once he knows you're actually still awake.

You decide to break the tension by turning to lay on your other side, facing him.

You were wrong. Thanks to the little sliver of moonlight shining through your sheer curtains, you can see him, now laying on his side, already looking at you with so much regret in his eyes. You can almost hear the cracks in your heart physically forming.

His eyes widen when he realizes you're still awake. He opens his mouth to say something, but not before you quickly shift over to his side of the bed and embrace him in a tight hold, burying your face into his chest. Without any hesitation, he returns the gesture, arms holding your body as close to him as possible. As if once he let go, he'd lose you forever.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he breathes you in. He didn't even know he was holding his breath all this time.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry Y/N," he mutters into your hair. He feels his hoodie getting wet from where you buried your face. He pulls you closer, if that's even possible, feeling his own eyes heating up with sadness. He would never forgive himself for making you feel this way.

"You know I trust you right? Please know that. I shouldn't have assumed the worst when I saw your phone. I...I let my insecurities get to the best of me."

You move your head from its home on his chest to look up at him, as if asking him to elaborate. This was new to you, you didn't know he held insecurities in your relationship. But it wasn't because of you, no, you were his entire world. Losing you meant losing everything.

Jake's never been the best at saying his feelings. That's why it took him so long (with the help of his six best friends) to finally confess how he felt about you. He was afraid of letting people in if they could easily walk out. Maybe that's why he never let anyone into his life before you. But oh, were you an exception. The second he met you, he knew he was fucked. But thank god he did, because thanks to you, he's been able to be more open, more vulnerable. He's able to talk to you about anything and everything. He doesn't have that same fear of losing people anymore, not when he has you in his life to reassure him every step of the way. But right now, in this moment, he doesn't know how to tell you that his new fear was, in fact, just losing you.

The sheer idea of you not being a part of his life anymore terrified him.

"I hope you know you're never going to lose me Jake, if that's what you're insecure about," you softly mutter as you wrap your free arm that's not stuck in between both your bodies around him to gently play with the ends of his hair. It's as if you could read his mind, he loves that you know him so well.

"It just sucks that you could even think I would ever do something as awful as what you were assuming...with one of your closest friends nonetheless," you continue.

"I know. I know, and I feel terrible. I'm so sorry. I know you would never do anything remotely close to that, and I know you would never intentionally try to keep anything from me," he sighs. He shifts so he can lie down on his back, bringing you with him to lie on his chest, never letting you go once. "It's just...I just don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you Y/N. Everyday, I ask myself what heroic thing I must've done in my past life to deserve this life with you and I can't help but think you could just as easily be stripped away from me."

As much as your heart breaks listening to him rant, you feel your love for him grow even more. You knew how hard it was for him to put his true emotions into words, and him telling you this reminded you how much trust he had in you.

After some moments of silence, moments of him drawing random shapes onto your back, moments of you two just holding each other like it was the end of the world, you speak up.

"I love you. I'm sorry for making you doubt yourself—"

"No, it's not your fault, I can't help but think things like that. I just don't know what I did to deserve you, and I know that I need to be mo–"

"Babe let me finish," you say with a little giggle in your tone. He immediately stops and mutters a little "sorry". How cute, you tell yourself.

"I was gonna say," you look back up at him so you're making direct eye contact now. "You're the only one that's ever on my mind, Jake. I can't help the way you think, but I can assure you that there is no one else I would rather be with. And I mean that for the rest of life."

You snuggle back into the comfortable hoodie he's currently wearing (you make a mental note to yourself to steal it from him later) and decide to ease the tension,

"So you're stuck with me for life, sorry to inform you Mr. Sim."

Jake lets out a laugh, looking down at you to see you returning his smile with a cheeky one.

"I love you. So much," he says so sincerely, so genuinely, that you almost tear up again from how content you were. Now you were asking yourself, what did you do to deserve him?

Jake Sim is not a jealous person.

No, he just loves you.

A lot.

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loth-wolffe · 3 years

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Make a Wish

Pairings: none. a lil bit of captain rex x reader if you squint.

Summary: the torrent company prepares something for your birthday<3

Word count: 1,4k not proofread

A/n: So!!! i know I've been dead for the past week, but today's my sweetiepie ana @leia-saveourskins birthday!!!! and she asked me to write a little something for her so I came back from hell bc i can't really say no to mi bb ana. congrats bubs!! i hope you have the most amazing day today and always. hope you like this heheh<3 tqm mucho. mwah mwah mwah

Rex had called you to the hangar, something about Anakin needing some help with something, his words rushed as if he didn't have time and you felt confused, it wasn't like there weren't any more mechanics working at the time, and the General had given you half day off, "as a birthday present," he had told you, after a little hug and a congratulations.

You rushed your steps, hair still slightly wet from the shower you took before and the thought of getting more engine oil on you made you roll your eyes.

This better be good.

Once you got to the hangar door, you found it was closed, frowning, you commed Rex.

"The door is closed."

You hear him coughing, a few murmurs are heard and you never felt more confused in your life, what was going on.

"Yeah, sorry." He mumbled, "Ahsoka locked it by, uh, accident." Rex sounded nervous, and for some reason it made your heart beat faster. Did something happen? If it required for the General, Commander and Captain to be in the room, it must be important, but then again, there's no power in this galaxy that could ever torn them apart.

"Its open now."

It's not long before the door opens before you, and as soon as you step into the room, a chant of "surprise!" is heard, keeping you in place as your brain processes the image before you, tears filling your eyes as soon as it settles in your heart.

Everyone is there, your fellow mechanics, Anakin, Ahsoka, the troopers you had become friends with, even the General of the 212th was there, with big smiles on their faces, a big sign with messy letters in aurebesh that read Happy Birthday colored with the 501st blue hung between two ships, it was almost falling off, but the thought warmed your soul. The "ay" looked incredibly smaller as they run out of space compared to the wide H at the beginning, they all had different styles, and you wondered if they agreed to write one letter per person.

"I–" you started, but words didn't come out, you were left speechless, many emotions running through your mind and your heart that you couldn't pick one to express what you felt.

"Thank you," you whisper, blinking quickly in hopes for the tears to disappear, but they don't, much less when Ahsoka comes for you and holds your hand, leading you towards everyone.

"Ah! it's nothing, the boys insisted we should celebrate." She told you, the mischievous smile she wore told you she was to blame.

"The boys? Snips you couldn't shut up about the surprise party for a week." Anakin said, walking towards you before enveloping in a warm hug, one that lasted longer than the one he gave you a few hours prior. "Happy birthday," he murmured softly in your ear, and you smiled widely.

Anakin hasn't been nothing but nice since you joined the Resolute, times spent at the hangar fixing whatever ship he completely destroyed in his perfect landings, and you were completely past knowing him solely as The General and more as Anakin.

"Thanks, boss."

He chuckled, ruffling your hair before Ahsoka pushed him away.

"Hey, we all want our hugs gramps," she said as she gave you the tightest of hugs, laughing quietly when you hear Anakin huff in annoyance. "Hope we have you many many more years with us."

It took you a while, to be congratulated by everyone, Obi Wan being the first right after Ahsoka, Rex lingering a bit more than most, his cheeks a sweet shade of pink as he stumbles over his words.

"I uh," he scratches the nape of his neck, aware of the line of clones behind him waiting to hug you, "I, I know this isn't much but," his eyes look down to his feet before meeting your eyes, golden eyes filled with nothing but affection, his fingers fumble awkwardly with his belt as he tries to take something from one of the many bags. "I got you this."

He gives you a little bouquet of flowers of your favorite color, already placed in a cup with water to keep them from dying.

"Rex you–" for the second time in the past hour, tears fill your eyes, a lump in your throat makes it hard for the words to be pushed past your lips, "you didn't have to."

"I wanted to." He frowns slightly, looking at the little box in your hands, "like i said, it's not much, but–"

"It's perfect, thank you."

You kiss his cheek, feeling like melting from all the love you're receiving, but mostly because how even now, in the middle of war, between so much death and suffering, they still find a moment to celebrate life, to still be kind, to be thoughtful and caring.

The tips of his ears turn red, and you giggle softly before thanking him again, he nods as he moves for the next person to give you his best wishes, a few give you little kisses on your cheeks, and others give you stiff hugs that made you chuckle.

Jesse is the last one to hug you, along with Hardcase and Fives.

"Happy birthday to not only the best mechanic in the GAR, but to our best friend as well." Jesse says before giving you a bone crushing hug, a loud, breathless laugh leaving your lips as he leaves a very wet kiss on your cheek.

Hardcase doesn't wait for Jesse to leave before he's hugging you too.

"Happy birthday!"

And it's not long before you have all the boys crushing you in the biggest bear hug you've ever had, feeling a bit claustrophobic for a moment but that doesn't stop you from enjoying the moment, your heart swelling with love.

When they all pull away to let you breath, Fives places a hand over your shoulders, walking you towards the Generals and the Commander waited for you.

"We got another surprise for you!"

"Oh really?" You ask, looking at Echo when he places himself on your other side, throwing his arm over your shoulders as well and walking in sync with you and Fives.

"Fives really insisted on it."

You hum, confused once more, but as soon as you meet with the others, you find what they were talking about.

There's a big cake being held by two astromechs, the white frosting perfectly placed under the blue letters that held your name right on the middle, sprinkles of at least eight different colors, one of the corners had way too much yellow and there was a tiny smiley face on another.

"There's no birthday if there's no cake." Fives stated, and everyone agreed.

"We made it, so we're not completely sure if it's good," Tup sheepishly admitted, and you almost melted at the thought.

They were too sweet, incredibly so that your heart couldn't take it.

"Thank you guys, I'm sure it's amazing."

"Oh! you cannot cut it without blowing the candle," Obi Wan spoke, patting his clothes trying to find the candle Anakin made sure he didn't forget.

He placed it on the when he found it, giving you a dashing smile and a wink once he did. R2 was quick to lit it up.

The boys made sure to be loud when singing the happy birthday song, Hardcase and Jesse making their voices as low and loud as they could, making Dogma roll his eyes and Fives laugh for most of the song.

Tears left your eyes a few times, overwhelmed with the affection they all had for you, your cheeks hurting with how wide you were smiling.

"What did you wish for?" Fives asked you at some point, to which you shook your head as you took another bite of cake that –to everyone's surprise,– it was actually good.

"Can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Some say that if you say your wish, it won't happen." He scoffs.

"Sounds like bullshit." You laugh loudly, which makes Fives' face break into a smile.

You don't tell him, though, that you didn't wish for anything. Not really, for everything you wanted was right there, with you, the feeling of home, of warmth. Knowing you belonged somewhere, in a family you found all by yourself, surrounded with joy, and love.

They made sure it was your best birthday ever.

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unholyimagines · 4 years

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Fucking Your Problem

Drew Starkey x Reader

Summary; Part II of Your Fucking Problem

(that’s all you get for a summary bc i don’t wanna spoil it, tho the warnings might give it away)

Warnings; cursing, teasing, fighting, spanking, choking, slapping, dirty talk, fingering, sex toys, i really went for it with this one

A/N; hehe see what i did with the title lol okay i got some serious 365 dni vibes writing this and the song from it (you know which one) kept playing in my head so i had to include the movie somehow (you’ll see) — also i wanna thank you all for all the love you gave the first one, i really hope you like this one too!! gif from google (is it yours?)

“After all the shit you said tonight, you’re gonna have to beg for it, baby”.

And you begged, for two days straight.

Drew had pulled himself away from you the second you both heard the front door opening, Rudy and Chase walking in, and acted like nothing had happened, leaving you more sexually frustrated than ever before.

And after that, all you did was beg. Beg for him to touch you, to give you the satisfaction you craved so much, to even just kiss you, but he never gave any of those. Instead, he watched and enjoyed as he had you squirming for him, whispering dirty things to you and suggesting to fulfill your fantasies, building up the anticipation until he was ready to give it to you, knowing he had control of the situation and trust me, he was living for it.

The shooting for OBX season 2 was starting in a day and you were dreading it, knowing your character had scenes with Drew’s, and you weren’t sure if you could handle it all, no matter how much of a professional you were.

But surprisingly, they had gone better than you thought, Drew keeping it all professional and not even bothering to stay with you after you were done with your scenes.

The boy was really getting to you, in more ways than one.

Contemplating on whether to go find him or not, you didn’t have time to think about it when Rudy had caught your wrist and pulled you to the set of the Château to watch him and JD film a scene.

Standing alone at the sidelines of the area, you kept quiet when the cameras started rolling, not wanting to bother the sound guy in any way.

Feeling completely lost in the amazing acting skills of your new friends, you almost let out an audible gasp when you felt a body press against your back, two hands finding their way down to hold your waist.

“Don’t turn around, and don’t make a sound”, Drew whispered to you, keeping you in place to not alert anyone.

His fingers started brushing over the waistband of your bikini bottoms, occasionally dipping in just below the edge and you felt the wetness pool between your legs immediately, thanks to his constant teasing for the past days.

“Drew”, you moaned as quiet as you could, begging him for more without words, not caring you were out in public.

“What the fuck did I literally just tell you?”, he snapped at you, his other hand coming up to squeeze your throat, making your breathing uneven.

He had learned by now how much of a sucker you were for choking.

The hand that held your throat, let go of its grip and started to slowly make its way down your front, fingers brushing over your chest and down to your stomach, leaving your skin shivering under his touch since you were wearing only a bikini top, due to it being your character’s outfit.

Finally reaching back to your bikini bottoms, he kept stroking the waistband, fingers disappearing deeper into the fabric each time.

You were sure you were already soaking through the fabric, so you whimpered quietly, notifying him of your desperate state.

“What is it, Y/N?”, he cooed into your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Please, Drew, I can’t do this anymore”, you confessed, hoping he would just finally give it to you.

“Oh c’mon, we’re just having fun”, he chuckled darkly, still keeping his voice down.

“Drew”, you whined, pressing your legs together to create some kind of friction, but Drew was quick to pull your legs apart.

“No, Y/N, that’s not how this works”, you didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking.

So you stayed quiet and let his hands wander around your lower half, never actually touching where you needed him the most.

“You know—I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one would notice”, he told you in a hushed tone, your body jolting slightly at the excitement of him finally touching you, but also the thought of doing it in public.

Your reaction caused a low chuckle from him and right after, you felt his other hand reach down to your core, not touching it, just lightly tugging the edge of your bikini above it.

And then heard the director yell ‘cut’ and felt his hands leave you.

Taking this as your chance to scold Drew for making you feel like this almost in front of your boss, you took a deep breath and turned around.

Only to find him—gone.

Once again, he had left you all hot and bothered and nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, Y/N! What did you think? I think we nailed it!”, Rudy’s voice scared you since you had forgotten why you were standing there in the first place, trying to look normal when he came running towards you.

“Y—yeah, it was great”, you lied, not having any idea how the rest of the scene had actually went.

“I know, right? Anyway, since that was the last scene of today, we’re gonna throw a small get together to celebrate the first day of filming, so let’s go home and get ready”, Rudy smiled, his hands pulling you loosely from your waist to leave with him, and his touch wasn’t helping you, but you pushed it out of your mind, no matter how much you craved for any touch right now.

Four hours later, you were spread out on a couch in Rudy’s and Chase’s apartment, laughing at a stupid joke Chase had made.

“Hey Y/N, care to join me for a smoke?”, Drew interrupted your laughing, your face turning serious.

Ever since the night of your fight, you hadn’t told any of your friends what had happened, keeping up the facade of you two not being really friends, so him asking you to join him, made you wonder, or maybe you were just overthinking?

“Uhh—yeah, sure”, you quickly got up, trying to avoid any questions from your cast mates, but Chase was faster.

“Since when do you two get along?”, he chuckled, grabbing everyone’s attention as they were staring you down, waiting for your answer.

“We always have, what are you talking about?”, Drew joked, pulling you out with him before anyone had a chance to question him.

The cold night air hit you like a truck, shivering immediately since you only had a thin dress on.

“Cold?”, Drew simply questioned before pulling a cigarette between his lips.

“No”, you stubbornly told him, not knowing why you lied.

“Always so stubborn, Y/N”, he chuckled, a sudden feeling of anger rising in you.

“Why did you want me here?”, you frowned at him, quickly lighting up your own cigarette.

“Why not? You’re the only one that smokes and I wanted some company”, he explained, but you didn’t believe there wasn’t an ulterior motive behind it.

“Oh, yeah? So you didn’t want me here so you could tease and torment me again?”, you deadpanned, still not being actual friends with him and kind of enjoying the small fights between you two.

“Sorry, princess, guess you don’t always get what you want”, Drew didn’t hold back the smirk that was now spreading on his face.

You stared at him for a minute, scanning his face, trying to find a way to crack him.

“Why won’t you give me what I want?”, you asked, finishing your cigarette.

“And what is it that you want, Y/N?”, he replied, doing the same.

“Are you serious? You know exactly what I want! I’ve literally been begging you, just like you wanted!”, you exclaimed out in frustration, knowing he was just doing it to annoy you on purpose, but all the pent up emotions starting to get overwhelming.

“Exactly, because you’re gonna keep doing exactly what I want, aren’t you?”, he growled, stepping towards you, backing you into a wall until your back was against it.

“Drew—I, uh”, you stuttered, the closeness of his face clouding your mind as he placed his hands on the wall around your head, his face lowering to eye level with you.

“Say it”, he demanded in a low voice and you felt yourself melt before him.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Drew”, you confessed, knowing it was a hundred percent true, you were practically a slut for him now, agreeing to do anything he asked so you would finally get what you had been longing for.

“Good girl”, he purred to you, his face inching closer to yours and you felt your body shiver.

He was so close, you could feel his breath against your lips and then noticed him pausing when your lips were just barely touching.

You hadn’t realized you had closed your eyes so you opened them, to see him staring deeply into yours already, but he didn’t utter out a word.

“Just kiss me, I can’t take this anymore”, you pleaded, hoping he would just forget about his stupid power play and give in.

And right then, you heard your friends yelling inside, calling your name to get back in, ending your moment with Drew.

You hoped for a second that he would ignore them and just close the space between your lips, but he still didn’t move.

You sighed in defeat, pulling yourself away from him to turn around and go back in since the door was right next to you, but then felt him grab you by the back of you neck, pulling you back even closer to him than before.

Your breath got caught in your throat, waiting for it to happen.

“I don’t like it when you try to walk away from me”, he growled at you and you felt his lips lightly brush against yours when he spoke.

“I’m—I’m sorry”, was all you could muster out, not really knowing why you were apologizing, but it seemed like the right thing to do in the moment.

“Don’t make it into a habit”, he finished, letting go of your neck and walking inside.

Leaving you stunned, you watched as he sat down on the couches with everyone, acting like nothing had happened and your mind was going wild.

What was this boy doing to you?

Collecting yourself after another quick stress cigarette, you practically ran back inside as you had forgotten how cold it was, the heat from Drew making you forget, you noticed how everyone had quieted down and the lights were off.

“What’s happening?”, you frowned.

“We’re watching a movie”, JD explained and you eyed around the room to find the only free spot, of course, next to Drew, on the small couch that barely fit two people.

“Great, what are we watching?”, you asked, making your way awkwardly to sit next to Drew.

“Maddie’s been bugging me to watch 365 days, so here we are”, Chase told you, earning a slap from Madelyn.

“It’s basically just porn”, you spoke before your brain could register what you had said.

“Oh, is it now? So, you’ve already watched it?”, Rudy wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“I mean—yeah, everyone was talking about it”, you tried to shrug it off, feeling how Drew’s eyes were burning at the back of your skull.

Halfway through the movie, you had noticed Drew shuffling around uncomfortably, making you smirk to yourself. You were kind of desensitized to the sex scenes since you had already seen it, but imagining Drew doing all the things to you, was not helping you keep calm.

So when you felt his hand grab yours, you turned your head to see him watching you with a serious look.

He started pulling your hand towards him, silently and slowly, making sure everyone else was still paying attention to the screen as you were kind of sat behind them.

“What are you doing?”, you mouthed to him, but didn’t get any answer, but got the idea when he lifted the waistband of his boxers, sliding your hand in until you felt your fingers graze over his hardened length.

A rush of emotions went through you, mostly excitement before you felt him pull his own hand out, leaving yours in and then pressing your hand down on top of his pants with his own, making you fully grab him in your hand. Your body felt like it was suddenly tingling, trying to believe this was actually happening.

You saw him take a sharp breath when you had him tightly in your grip and now it was your time to tease him. You knew he was expecting you to instantly start working on him, but you wanted him to suffer, just like you had.

So you, did nothing.

Simply turned your eyes to the screen, still holding him in your hand, but not moving it even an inch.

“Y/N”, Drew growled, the movie having a loud scene so he could speak without anyone hearing him.

“What?”, you smiled at him innocently.

”Move—your—hand”, he demanded, pausing between every word to make it clear as day, but you only smiled at him.

“Why?”, you cooed innocently.

Expecting him to just sigh in defeat, you definitely didn’t expect your head to snap back when his free hand was in your hair, yanking it back.

You somehow managed to quiet the gasp that escaped past your lips, only to feel his mouth next to your ear, once again.

“Don’t fucking start with me, or I swear I’ll make sure you’re wet for the next month without ever getting the satisfaction of cumming”, he spoke lowly, sending shivers down your spine.

Blinking rapidly for a moment to make sure you heard him right, it was enough for you to start moving your hand, slowly, making him know you had some control, or at least thought you had.

When The Boat Scene was starting on the screen from the movie and the song I See Red began, you felt yourself getting more and more excited, pumping your hand on Drew faster, watching as the couple on screen had sex all over the yacht.

Quiet, barely audible moans and grunts started falling from Drew’s lips made you turn your head to him, seeing how his head was leaning back on the couch, his eyes closed.

The sight only, made you feel butterflies in your stomach, your legs involuntarily pressing together.

You thought about just pulling him out of his pants and taking him in your mouth, but fought against the thought since all of your friends were in the same room.

“Drew, I need you”, you whispered to him, pumping ever faster to show him how much you wanted him.

“I know”, he chuckled before pulling your hand out, making you frown in confusion.

He checked quickly to make sure no one was watching you before placing his hands on either sides of your face, pulling you close.

“Tell me what you want”, he rasped with serious eyes.

“Drew”, you whined, knowing he knew exactly what you wanted, biting your lips in the process.

“Don’t do that”, he suddenly snapped, watching your teeth pull back your bottom lip.

“What?”, you asked, not understanding why and repeating the action.

“Bite your lip one more time, I dare you”, he clarified and you couldn’t help yourself but to do just that.

“That’s it”, he told you, getting up from the couch, catching everyone attention.

“I gotta go, I’ll be back later”, he told everyone before simply leaving.

No one seemed to notice you as you sat there, more confused now that ever.

Did you really make to wrong move? Was he actually angry?

You sat alone on the couch, the movie quickly ending but you hadn’t really paid any attention to it, your mind too occupied with Drew.

“Anyone up for drinks?”, Rudy loudly asked, people getting up and turning the lights back on.

“Yes, please”, you sighed, following him to the kitchen.

Before you could even get the glasses, Rudy’s phone went off.

“Hey—yeah, sure—okay, bye”, the call ended quickly and Rudy turned to you.

“Drew needs you at his apartment, he said it was urgent”, he told you, motioning towards the door as he seemed slightly worried.

“Oh—okay”, you faked a smile before quickly taking off, opening the front door before anyone else took notice.

Walking literally two steps forward, you knocked at the door in front of you since Drew lived just the opposite of Chase and Rudy.

Merely a second later, the door flew open and you felt yourself getting pulled in, the door slamming close behind you.

“Drew—what, uh, what’s happening?”, you frowned, trying to look around the apartment since it was actually your first time being there, but you didn’t really have any time when you were again, pulled, into his bedroom and thrown onto the bed.

Landing on your front, you rolled around on your back and were instantly faced with Drew’s lips on yours, his body hovering over you.

Not wanting anything to interrupt what you had waited for so long, you lifted your hands up to grab his hair, making sure he kept close and didn’t leave you again.

While his other hand kept him up, the other started gripping your waist roughly, his touch needy and desperate.

“Drew, please”, you begged one last time, with swollen lips, between kisses.

“Up”, he commanded and you happily obliged.

“Strip, now”, he continued, standing in front of you, eyeing you from head to toe, making you feel slightly intimidated.

You lifted your hands to slowly pull down to straps of your dress, tugging it down to your chest, breathing heavily as you were getting ready to reveal yourself to him fully.

The dress slipped down past your chest, your nipples hardening as you watched Drew’s eyes glued to them, not wearing a bra.

Finally letting go of the fabric completely, you stood before him, only in your g string, waiting for him to say or do anything.

He lifted an eyebrow at you, his eyes now looking at your underwear and you began pulling them off, your fingers going underneath the thin waistband.

“This is taking too long”, he suddenly said, pushing you back until your feet hit the edge of the bed and you fell on it.

You watched him take the tiny piece of fabric between his fingers and pull up, not down, but up.

“What are you—“, you gasped when you felt the waistband snap before he removed the fabric completely.

“Did you just—break my favorite underwear?”, you asked in slight disbelief.

“Yes, is that a problem?”, he stared you down, making you feel more intimated than before.

“N—no”, you cowarded, giving up any control you thought you had with one word.

“Thought so. Now, give me your hands”, he said and you did, before he pulled your body up on the bed and pinned your wrists down with one hand.

You didn’t look up until you felt something cold and hard against your skin, realizing he was handcuffing you to the bed frame.

A hot wave of excitement went through your body at this.

“Close your eyes and keep them closed”, he told you quietly before you felt his fingertips brushing over your collarbones, making their way down to your chest.

You didn’t want to close your eyes, you wanted to see everything he was about to do to you, but he stopped his movements when he saw your eyes still open, so you reluctantly closed them.

His touch on your skin continued and it was almost so light that it was on the edge of ticklish, but when he got down to your boobs, it turned rough.

He kneaded and massaged them, you humming in approval.

Every time you thought his palms would come in contact with your nipples, you sighed in disappointment when they never did. He was clearly doing it on purpose, still continuing to torment you.

A moment passed until you were starting to feel annoyed at the lack of touch now, so you started to twist your body slightly, trying to show him what you wanted.

But it wasn’t enough because he still avoided your most sensitive parts.

“Drew, just touch me already”, you sighed, your voice sounding kind of fed up.

“Say my name again”, he responded, not giving you the answer you wanted.

“I will when you give me some satisfaction”, you snapped back, hoping it would trigger him somehow to just take you.

“Trust me Y/N, you’ll be begging for more satisfaction when I’m done with you”, he chuckled before taking your nipples between his fingers and lightly twisting them.

A loud, uncontrollable moan came from your mouth at the contact and you felt shockwaves through you body when he stared tugging and playing with them.

But he was finished with your chest quicker than you would have liked.

Feeling his hands around your ankles, your legs flew apart quickly and you felt Drew sit between them.

You wanted to open your eyes so bad, to see him looking at your exposed self, but knew better.

You waited for a moment, for him to do something.

And then another moment.

And another.

But nothing happened and you felt the anger rising again.

“If you don’t do something, I’ll open my eyes”, you threatened.

“Do that and you won’t get anything”, he was fast to reply.

“I swear I’ll open them”, you told him.

“And I swear, I won’t touch you again”, he said in a stern voice.

“Then untie me and I’ll fucking get up and leave”, you lied, hoping he would believe you.

You didn’t get an actual response, instead, his dark laughter filled your ears.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad”, he told you.

“Do something or I’ll show you how hot I am when I’m furious”, you exclaimed and finally felt his hands at your inner thighs, spreading your legs more apart.

Your anger was forgotten in a second, trying to push yourself towards Drew so he wouldn’t take any longer with touching you.

A single finger went from your entrance up to your clit, a moan falling into the quiet room.

You expected him to just stop there, but to your surprise, he immediately went to rub on your clit, sending your mind into a wild haze.

It was like someone touching you for the first time, the anticipation for this moment making it all worth the wait, but you still wanted more.

Bucking your hips up just a little, Drew got the hint as he removed his finger and you felt him get up from the bed.

You wanted to open your eyes to see what he was doing, but he was quickly back and you felt his fingers pressing against your entrance, gliding in effortlessly, thanks to how wet you were.

Him inching himself in more and more, you frowned a little. His fingers seemed, really thick?

And then you realized, they weren’t his fingers, but a dildo.

“Where’d you get that?”, you quickly blurted out, not wanting to share the toys he might have used before.

“Don’t worry, I got it yesterday just for you”, he read your mind and your stomach tingled at the fact that he had done that.

You were fully prepared to reply, but nothing came out of your mouth when you felt him push the toy all the way in and pull it out, just to push it back in.

It didn’t take him long to find the rhythm that had you moaning and whimpering in seconds.

You thought you couldn’t last for more than a minute and wanted to warn him, but then felt the toy leave you completely.

A pair of hands were around you waist, flipping you over on your stomach.

A sharp stinging pain shocked you, realizing he had just spanked you, hard.

“Mm, Drew”, you moaned, lifting you ass up for him to do it again.

He repeated the action a few times until you heard him chuckle again.

“You’re such a good little slut, Y/N”, the comment earning another moan from you.

He flipped you over again, his other hand holding your waist tightly, pushing you down to keep you in place when his other hand pushed two fingers in, your head falling back in pure pleasure.

“Tell me you want me”, his voice sounded distant through the pleasure you were receiving.

“Tell me, you want me”, he repeated, now more firmly, but you still couldn’t give him an answer.

A harsh slap on your cheek brought you back to reality.

“Fucking answer me”, his voice was loud and clear, your eyes flying open to see him staring at you with a lustful stare.

The slap didn’t hurt, you just weren’t expecting it and it only made you more excited if even possible.

“I—I want you”, you rasped, trying to find your voice.

“Louder”, he demanded, not happy with your quiet voice.

“I want you”, you raised your voice just below a yell, making sure he heard you loud and clear this time.

And it was enough for him.

Watching him get up and remove his clothes, you had to keep your mouth for watering at the outline of his cock in his underwear.

Yes, you had had him in your hand, but the sight of actually seeing him, was mesmerizing.

The world around you seemed to slow down when he pushed down the boxers for you to see him fully.

Not to give away too much, but he wasn’t the average size.

You had to physically shake your head slightly to not stare, but Drew had noticed it and was smirking when he reached to his nightstand to grab a condom.

“You sure you’re ready for this?”, he asked after placing himself between your legs.

You wanted to give him a sarcastic comment, but instead just raised your eyebrows at him in a challenging way, not wanting anything to get in the way of him filling you up.

He flipped you around once again, lifting your ass up until your knees were supporting you.

You felt his hands groping your cheeks before the tip of his dick was at your entrance.

Taking a deep breath, you prepared for him to fully enter you, but definitely didn’t wait for him to just shove himself in like he did.

A mixture between a moan and a gasp loudly fell from your lips, but Drew didn’t give you any time to adjust, quickly finding a fast pace to pound into you.

“Oh god”, you moaned into the pillow beneath you, your hands trying to grip at anything, but the handcuffs restraining you.

“Fuck”, Drew groaned in response before pulling out and flipping you on your back, already pushing back in and finding even a faster pace than before.

“Drew”, you moaned his name, your eyes opening and closing in the blinding pleasure.

“Shut up”, Drew tried to take some control when you noticed him losing control over himself, his pounding becoming slightly uneven.

“Drew”, you moaned again, hoping it would help him reach his peak as you were coming close to yours.

His hands flew up to your neck, choking you, sending you almost over the edge which caused you to tense up your pelvic muscles.

“Oh shit”, the words flew from his mouth, his head shooting back when he came, your own body trembling with pleasure.

A few slow thrusts more and he pulled himself out and laid next to you, your eyes closing with a smile on your face, feeling sleepy after the overwhelming fulfillment you just received.

“Y/N?”, you heard Drew’s voice, but didn’t bother to answer, feeling like sleep was the better option out of anything right now.

“Y/N”, he repeated more firmly and you groaned when you opened your eyes and turned your head to him.

Only to see him looking down at you with a mix of shock and worry on his face.

“What?”, you quickly asked, getting up to rest on your elbows.

He just stared at you for a moment before speaking.

“The condom broke”.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey dirty imagine #outer banks #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron

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ponds-puddle · 3 years

Text

Closer ~{7/??}~

word count: 1.1k

TW: VIOLENCE

“I don’t understand him. I understand most people. The way they move, the way they speak. I’ve always been so good at figuring people out but him? He’s impossible. He has some freaky shield over him that just eats away at me. The not knowing makes me want it so much more. Makes me want to understand and ask so much more. I think I like that about us, about our friendship. Learning new things about him is intoxicating. Every new little story and fact shared between the two of us become these sweet little secrets in my mind. I don’t understand these feelings he brings up in me but the desire to figure it out cannot be described just as simply as a “rush”. It’s a greater than a thrill. It’s like a roller coaster creeping up to the very peak of its mountain. I think when I finally piece together this puzzle that is Shinsou, we will dive towards the ground. Is that weird to say? I think it is. But it doesn’t matter.

It’s exciting.”

With an exhausted sigh, you lifted your bags off of the seat beside you. It was a bummer that Shinsou hadn’t been having a late night, you would’ve liked to see him. You were beginning to forget how boring train rides were now that you were alone. You stood patiently in front of the doors, awaiting them to open so that you could begin your long trek home.

You had forgotten your earphones so, with another sigh, you stepped out of the train and began your silent walk. Thoughts ran wild through your mind, wondering what you would eat once you got home, wondering if Nakoma was alright, where Shinsou might be. Then it became an endless stream of chores you had to look forward to on your day off. You had to do your clothes. It would be nice if you could go grab more sodas because you were nearly out. You had been drinking waters for the past few days and, while you enjoyed a good cold water bottle, you missed the fizz. You had to admit it. If it wasn’t for the coffee you had been drinking this morning you were sure you would’ve had a caffeine headache.

You stopped briefly to grab your phone from your bag, wanting to write down this list, but when you noticed a pair of feet halting in time with you, you froze. Another plus side to your quirk is that you’re hyperaware of movement around you. Downside was its not exactly a fighting quirk. It could’ve been if you trained it that way, but you never thought too much into it. You liked the little things you could do, you weren’t interested in being a hero. But right now you were kicking yourself for not accepting those defense classes your father had offered.

You began to walk again at a slightly quicker pace, your phone now firmly grasped in your hand. With shaky hands you dialed the number of the only person you could think of at this moment. You didn’t put it against your ear, so as not to alarm your pursuer that you were calling for help. You dropped your phone to your side, subtly sending your live location while also praying that he would pick up.

“Hello?” you heard the faint questioning tone of Shinsou as he answered the phone. You walked faster, thankful that you were wearing heels so that he could at least hear the fast pace of your steps. A soft ‘ding’ sounded from his side, showing that your location had sent.

“Are you okay?” Shinsou asked in a panic, “I’m assuming you can’t speak right now, but press a number once if you are okay and twice if not.”

Shakily you tapped two numbers, trying to not alert the eyes behind you.

“Don’t hang up!” he yelled, you heard loud shuffling from his end, “I’m coming!”

Faint tears burned your eyes at his words, relief flooding your system.

The footsteps behind you quickened to an almost running pace and, without a single moment of hesitation, you took off in a full sprint away from him. Your phone flung to your ear, repeating words of panic to Shinsou.

“He’s running at me!” you cried out, swerving your body down a separate street in hopes you could put more distance between the two of you. It was useless though, as his hands reached out towards you and gripped onto your elbow.

Panicked yells ripped out of your throat, you flung your arm carelessly with as much force as you could muster. A solid punch landed, but it seemingly had no effect on the man. His grip was tight around your arm, rough fingertips and nails tearing into your skin. When punching proved useless, you pulled your hand back, lighting your quirk through your fingertips. Pained cries erupted from your body as you forced a large thorn to grow in place of your middle nail before clawing at your attacker. You could feel it as your thorn tore through his skin, and for a moment you felt relief through your pain. You could hurt him. You found a way.

You began clawing desperately at the man’s face. He swore loudly in pain, attempting to gain control of your hands but with no avail. When his hand would come close, you would gash it open in defense.

Loud footsteps were heard from above as a figure raced across the building above you. When it noticed the commotion it jumped to the ground, grabbing hold of the man and ripping him apart from you. You could feel the rage surrounding the hero who fell from the sky. His fists laid repeated blows on your assailant, even as he went seemingly limp in his grasp.

You focused on the figure and felt pain ripple in your chest, “Shinsou,” you cried out, “Shinsou that’s enough!”

He dropped the man without care before turning immediately towards you. Crazed eyes met yours, instantly changing to concern as he reached for you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Be mad at me later please,” his voice cracked, looking you in the eyes, “But please tell me if you’re okay first.” His hands dropped to your arms, inspecting them in a panic. You watched the man in front of you with soft eyes, anger not even present on the list of emotions you were feeling at that moment.

“Oh,” you whispered with teary eyes as you reached for his face just as he had done to you, “Oh my sweet hero boy.”

Shinsou froze momentarily at your words, staring down at you with an array of emotions bursting from his chest. He watched you as your hands relaxed and fell to his chest, gripping onto his shirt and pulling yourself against him. He reacted instantly, holding you impossibly closer to him.

“Let’s get you home, little one.”

taglist! (just ask! some of yall are added bc I remember you reading lol)

@just-a-girl-with-alot-of-issues @tiny-is-sad-100 @delicatefleur @pansexualproblemchild

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yangrdn · 4 years

Text

Cherry Chap Stick

pairing: Mj x Fem!Reader

a/n: it literally took me MONTHS to finish this bc of lack of motivation and time. But oh my god ... it’s finally done!! Bad news: there’s gonna be a part 2 to this, because else I wouldn’t post it now. It’s my longest fic so far, but ig i’ll write more in future or also part it in 2 parts. enjoy!!

part 2

Summary: You ask your crush, or uses to be crush, for help

words: 2.3k

Warnings: none

my masterlist

→ → → → → → → →

Your heart drops at the sight of the two of them laughing at something he whispered into her ear. Peter and Mj have been spending a lot of time together lately and you don't know how to feel about it. You'd be happy, of course, but then again, you wish you could sit there. No, not with Peter, but with Mj.

You look back down to your open spanish book and try to concentrate on the task, blocking out the giggles leaving her mouth after he told another, what seems to be, joke. Your mind is racing 100 miles a second trying to find out the answer to the question in your book and trying to listen to the two of your friends at the same time, until, finally, your teacher tells you to pack your things and gives you the homework for the next week. You quickly pack your things and storm out, trying not to walk with Peter and Mj, but you fail.

"Hey!" You turn around to be met with Peter waving at you and smiling. You smile back and greet him with a quiet 'hello' before letting your head sink again.

"What's wrong? You seem so...off?" he seemed to notice. Usually you're the one talking non stop and telling him about your week and other exciting things, so of course your sudden silence worries him.

"I just...I don't know. I'm just thinking." You sigh and turn your head to him to let him know you are ok.

Your mind was racing 100 miles a second. Two days ago you thought you had a crush on your best friend, Peter, turns out you were wrong. So. Very. Wrong. You were sitting in front of your phone when you realized. Katy perry's voice repeating the words over and over again as you scrolled through the endless amount of videos with the same sound on TikTok. In every single video, the girl was kissing another girl and you just couldn't stop thinking about it. What if the girl could've been you and...her? First you thought it was Peter, but then you noticed the different feeling you got thinking about her and let your phone drop. This was all so new for you.

"About what?" he asks, "you know, you can tell me anything. We're best friends, right?" he says now, much more concerned. You sigh and continue walking after you nod.

You have only liked boys, and now a girl? At first you tried to excuse it as platonic love. I mean, friends are very close to each other, right? Like, hugging and kissing each other's cheeks? Or cuddling and wanting the other to care about you. But the way you thought about her crossed the line between friends and lovers already.

You are sitting next to Peter at lunch, whilst Ned is talking about some new lego set he got a week ago. He seems excited so you try your best to seem interested and look like you're listening. But a certain someone keeps distracting you.

"Are you even listening?" Mj snaps her fingers in front of your face twice and laughs.

"Huh? Uh, yes. I was just thinking...about," you look around the room, "someone." Ned's eyes widen as he sends Peter a look.

"About someone? Uhm, who?" Peter sits up straighter and purses his lips, trying not to seem interested. You bite the inner side of your cheek and look at Mj, but her head is buried back into her book.

You sigh. "It's no one, I gotta go." You take your backpack and leave the room, not daring to look behind you.

After school you don't hesitate before packing your things and going out, leaving your friends confused behind you, calling your name.

First thing you do is run into your room and close the door, after throwing our backpack on the floor. You let yourself fall face-first on your bed and lay there for some minutes on your stomach, thinking about today, and Mj.

"Whyyyyy" you whine and turn around laying on your bed. You didn't even have someone to talk about it. You can't tell Mj, because she would ask how you found out and about who you thought. Ned? No, he would go and tell someone else, even on accident.

Your parents? You don't know how Steve would react. Sure, he is very accepting and you don't think he would bash or embarrass you, but things were way different back then. Bucky? No, he would tell Steve. That leaves you no other chance but to go to your other best friend, Peter. Even if it means risking and telling him you had a crush on him, or at least thought you liked him in that way.

You quickly jump out of your bed and grab your phone, which lays on the floor after you failed to throw it on your bed.

The phone rings twice before you hear Peter's voice from the speaker.

"Hello?"

"Peter, do you have a minute?" you ask, fumbling with your fingers and biting your bottom lip. Your voice probably shaes, because he immediately notices.

"Uh, yeah. Did something happen? Should I come over?" You smile at him worrying and shake your head, forgetting that he can't see you.

"Yes and yes. Maybe you can come over now? It's nothing bad, promise. I just...need to talk, y'know?"

"Yeah, yeah. K, I'll be there in 10," he says and hangs up.

You quickly lay your phone on your desk and run to the bathroom, washing your face and breathing in and out. How are you going to tell him? "oh yeah, hey Pete. So uhhh...I thought I had a crush on you because I was sad when I saw you and Mj together but turns out that I actually had a crush on Mj and was mad that she was with you." ? No, absolutely not.

Your heart starts to beat faster after you hear a silent knock on your door.

"Uh..come in!" You say and leave the bathroom to sit on the bed in the middle of your room. Your heartbeat is so loud and strong, that you're sure Peter can hear it the minute he enters your room.

"Hey! Is everything alright? You sounded so...worried on the phone," he asks and sits next to you.

"Uh..yes? I actually wanted to ask you something and don't know how to start..." You look down at your feet on the floor, knitting your hands and biting your lip again. How are you supposed to tell him you've fallen for a girl? Your best friend?

"What's it about? You know you can trust me, right? You're my best friend, I'll always listen to you." You smile at his tenderness and feel another warm feeling spread through you, which makes you stop for a second. But it's not the same warmth you get when talking with Mj or just looking at her. You sigh.

"It's kind of complicated. I...like someone and

don't know how to feel about it?" You look up and into his brown eyes. You catch him staring at your lips and quickly look away again, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in his presence.

"Uhm...that's great?" he says, which comes out more like a question than a statement.

"Who's it?" he digs in deeper.

"Oh, is it Brad? Or Flash? Well, I don't think you're in love with Flash, because he-"

"That's the problem," you calmly say whilst looking anywhere but at him.

"Problem? So...it is Flash? Or someone else you can't ge-"

"Peter, it's not even a boy!" you sigh and throw yourself back, now laying on your back and hiding your face in your hands. You feel a blush creep up your face and spread at the back of your neck.

“Uh...what?” he asks, in hopes he heard you wrong. “You’re in love with a...girl?” he asks again. You feel tears prick your eyes at the way he says girl, as if he is filled with disgust. You nod once and risk moving your hands away from your eyes, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze. The moment he notices the tears in your eyes, his eyes soften too and he sighs.

“I didn’t mean to sound so...rude. I just- it 's, ugh.” He sighs again and looks up.

“I didn’t expect that, like, at all. Who 's it?”

You sit up and take a look at him before speaking up.

“Will you promise me not to judge?” you ask.

“I’d never, promise,” he says and shakes his head.

“Uhm, it’s one of our friends. Her name’s,” you exhale, “Mj.” You immediately look away when her name leaves your mouth and squint your eyes, scared of Peter’s reaction.

“I- Mj?” he asks, trying to make sure that he heard you right. You turn your head to him and nod, biting the inner side of your cheek, a habit you get every time you are nervous in a situation. He quickly lowers his head low, scared you would notice the tears filling his eyes at the mention of his and your best friend.

These past days, he did notice your gaze resting on him and it gave him hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same towards him. But every time he would meet your longing stares and dreamy expression, Mj was next to him. So you didn’t look at him, you were looking at Mj this whole time. And Mj was only hanging out with Peter so often last week, because he asked her if she could help him, help him to ask you out. All the struggle to think about what you are interested in for nothing.

“Yes? You’re- you’re not mad right? I mean, you like her a-” you get cut off by him.

“I’m not mad. And uhm...how did you find out?” he asks now, directly looking into your eyes. Your cheeks redden and you exhale before explaining.

“Uhm, y’know how Mj and you have been hanging out a lot together, lately?” He nods. “Well, I thought you were the one I had a crush on because I got mad so fast...turns out it was her the whole time.” You feel him shift next to you and sit up straight, inhaling.

“Uh-” His voice cracks and he coughs. “You..you don’t like me? As in, more than a friend?” You shake your head and sigh again.

“No. Like I said; it was Mj this whole time, but I thought it was you because…, you trail off and look up at the ceiling as another rush of embarrassment runs through you.

“Because?”

“I did like you for a long time in 7th grade, but then when we met Mj and she started to hang out with us, with you, I guess I didn’t really think about how I lost feelings for you, and developed some for her.”

“Okay, so what exactly do you want to do now? Do you- do you want to confess? I don’t kno-”

“Ughhhh, why’s life so complicated?” You let yourself fall back, back pressed against your bed and with your hands covering your teary eyes. Peter takes your hands and makes you open your eyes, looking up at him. He caresses his thumb over your palm and gives you a smile.

“Do you want to confess to her? Like, tell her you’re..?” He stops and frowns.

“Bi? I mean, at least I think I’m bi...I’m still new to this, but I guess that’s it, I still have time to figure it out..so.” You shrug and sit up again. You are not wrong. You still had time to figure this all out, and at the moment, that was the label you felt comfortable with. You liked Peter, and then Mj.

“Yeah, that. Do you want to tell her first and see how she reacts? I mean, you should feel comfortable doing that, so if you don’t, it’s ok. But it’d be better if you did- not that I’m pressuring you or anything. I really want you to feel comf-” You let out a breathy laugh as you feel your cheeks heat up again.

You loved how much he cared about you, one of the reasons why you thought about telling him first, before anyone else. He always wanted to make sure all his friends and important people, to him, were safe and felt comfortable with telling him important things. Like right now, he’s thankful that you trusted him enough to talk about this.

“Peter, breath! It’s okay, really, I’m comfortable right now.” He nods and lets go of your hand again.

“Thank you,” you look at him through your lashes and catch a smile from him.

“Always. But what are you gonna do? Do you- do you want to tell your parents first?”

“I don’t know. I just want to think about everything at first, and then later on tell someone else, y’know? Not tryna rush this or anything.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

For the rest of the day, you were thinking about how to tell your parents and if you were right or not. Your mind kept telling you that you don’t like her. Maybe it was just thinking she was pretty? Maybe you were just longing for touch and because she was not touchy, you liked the idea of hugging her and being the only one to do so. But maybe, the thought that kept you up the whole night, you were faking it all and still liked Peter and your mind was playing tricks with you. Regardless, you just couldn’t close your eyes and rest for a second, the thought of your parents, the Avengers or any other of your friends reacting bad and being disgusted.

But then again, if they really loved you, they wouldn’t think any less of you. And you also didn’t know their views on these type of things, so you could be completely wrong.

→ → → → → → → →

》feedback is appreciated!《

#mj x reader #mcu mj #michelle jones x reader #michelle jones #teen!reader #michelle jones imagine #mj imagine #mcu imagine #avengers imagine #michelle jones oneshot

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kissryuwuji · 4 years

Text

krew with phones

did i write this at 3am 2 months ago and never looked at it again? maybe.

Korra has an android, most likely a Sumsang Galazy uhhhh smth idk i don’t keep up with phones. It’s not the one with the pen tho, it’s probably an older generation one bc if she had a latest model she would have too much power (no she wouldn’t)

like if this was in canon, she probably got it at the end of s1. Like imagine aang’s spirit going up to her and being like korra,,,,,,,, here’s a sumsand galazy bc u can’t navigate the city at all,,,,,,,,

anyway she has no idea how to use it but she catches on pretty quick how to text. Makes a lot of typos. Abuses the emojis. She likes the arm, hands, shrug, sports ones.

is appalled by how different the iphone emojis are from android

The type to backspace all the way to the first typo she made instead of tapping it or holding the word or whatever. And then she forgets what she typed and it strays from what she originally had.

Didn’t know the front camera existed. She’s like, whaT!? I’ve been staring at the dark screen to pick food out of my teeth! So now that’s what she uses it for.

Asami has the latest model of iPhone that has the home button bc she actually likes it

she probably has other iphone models just to tinker with them.

I bet by the time iphone releases their next model, she’s already made her own that has more space, better cam quality, faster speed, more durable screen, etc. than their model and the home button is still there.

Does not use emojis very often, and if she does it’s the thinking face with the hand on the chin 🤔 when she’s talking to Korra or Bolin

Also has a work phone, but it’s filled with a lot more stuff than her personal phone

that OR she has a sumsang note or whatever has the pen bc she likes that feature when she's commuting and she can doodle or draw over blueprints

does not put a period at the end of her sentences

Mako has kept the same flip phone for the past 3 years even though it’s all scratched up. He texts slowly bc abc2 def3 ghi4

responds late bc the sound is broken and the vibration thing got weaker

uses a lot of acronyms. Probably makes up his own too, like chl (coming home late) or wduw4d (what do u want for dinner, because the u is the second press and y is the third press).

Don’t expect emojis or emoticons bc he has a character limit. When someone sends him a text with an emoji, it either fails receiving it or it just pops up as the diamond with a question mark in it

If his flip phone allows group messaging, the messages always come individually instead of altogether.

So when he reads one from bolin, he has to go back to the folder, press up, click, read korra’s LOL with a bunch of emojis (he Cannot see the emojis), then repeat.

He can’t message them all at once, so he just sends whatever he has to say to bolin so on bolin’s end there’s just a long line of mako’s messages pertaining to the group chat that he has to relay to the group. But by the time he does that, the group already moved on to whatever else. When he has smth to say, it’s frustrating, but otherwise he wouldn’t mind doing this when he's on break or is bored

If he decides to upgrade his phone (most likely because the others pitched in and got it for him), he gets the blackberry phone with the rolling cursor and he likes playing the ball and brick game on his breaks.

He says he doesn’t miss whipping his phone out and opening and closing it because really it was such a hassle to do but it has sentimental value for being his first phone and it’s kind of muscle memory for him to flick his phone open when he pulls out his blackberry.

Bolin has an LG smart phone (idk what gen) bc he’s the younger sibling.

he abuses the camera and runs out of space and has to constantly delete apps and pictures and videos.

The earliest video he has is probably a probending match so he could rewatch it and learn strategies (not really he just wanted to capture toza’s match)

it's a super shaky video. no you can't zoom in.

his first picture is a blurred sidewalk and his first selfie is probably blurry too because he didn’t know the thing needed time to capture the image or wtv and he got excited and tried it with mako afterwards.

His second selfie with mako was probably two months after he got his phone because he found out you can change the default background so he takes one with mako and mako hasn’t smiled for a picture since he was 8 probably so he kinda just does what FEELS like a smile but it comes out like a straight line.

The camera is not the greatest but bolin probably enjoys how pixel-y it looks until he gets a glimpse at asami’s photo qualities.

Bolin uses the 🤪🤩😬🤯 the most, but also always matches the food emoji to whatever he's currently eating.

Korra's camera roll consists of screenshots she intends to look at later and sometimes theyre of her teeth when she accidentally takes a picture while picking the food out

Asamis personal camera roll starts off with pictures of places shes been to and slowly fills up with candid pictures of her friends. No one ever noticed she snuck a picture of them until she makes a scrapbook

#lok #korra #asami #bolin #mako #krew #i didnt proofread so if theres any repeated stuff no there isnt #jay clowns around #idk where i was going w this so if anything sounds wonkers blame 3am me #also wow first thing i contribute to fandom ✌#good for me #i just have a lot of thoughts for when poor kids have phones #also my self projecting on mako and bolin ✌

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starrysupercell · 3 years

Text

UwU the rest of the outline at per request. @lumpy-veev (still unfinished but it's okay! This should be thought of as a rough draft.) 💙

🦝 "RaR 3" or "Breaking Point" 🐍

It would be an unofficial Brawl, which is not allowed, but it happens, and what can you even do?

I see the two as basically ignoring each other's presence upon finding out that the other is there. Of course, as much as they won't admit it, it's making them think of. Everything.

This leads to even more on edge tense atmosphere whenever they would cross each other's path, because even if it’s a big park, you can only avoid someone for so long, especially when you happen to have common associates. (the Coworkers, Tara, etc.)

It doesn’t help they have growing animosity and take every little thing personally for every interaction.. and it’s only been a month or two.

Rumors begin to pick up around the park-- Just a little chatter at the bar. Just a little observation that those two sure have something between them huh? The gossiper is shushed, because did you forget who runs the place? his connection to Byron?

Luckily, the bartender didn’t seem to hear. He was busy cleaning glasses. The topic’s changed. customers continue to come and go.

One who arrives is Piper, who sits down at the bar. It’s busy, so she waits patiently for Barley to get her usual. (he’s good at that.) He sets down a coaster and the glass in front of her, but instead of a greeting and bustling away this time, he sticks around.

“Byron is well on his way to becoming a topic of interest around here...” he tells her.

She leans forward with a smile. “What have they said? And who, for that case?”

He explains what he heard, and omits the names.

Piper thoughtfully considers this. She had noticed this, but hadn’t chalked it up to a personal history, just conflict of interest. (byron was well off, belle was a thief. he would be cautious) Now that she knew, she wanted every drop of intel.

“I can talk to him. we wouldn’t want our dear coworker being talked about, do we?”

“I do not.” Barley replied, tipping his hat to bid her goodbye as he steps away to another client. He lets Piper take care of this, because he likes letting people come to him if they want to talk, and he feels that Byron would have already approached him if that were the case.

So, it’s another one of their patented teatime tête-à-têtes.

Piper skirts around the issue before dropping the news of whispers about the two.

But Byron doesn’t humor the topic, and refuses to talk about it.

Piper cheerfully pokes at him. “Crossed paths? Did you know her before the Park? maybe previous business associates? She robbed you, but you had good insurance, and one day she tricked you? Ooh~ Former flames-?"

And then Byron stands up and is about to leave wordlessly until that last suggestion processes bc if he doesn’t clarify now, ugh that’s gonna be what Piper thinks is plausible (kind of, bc he gay af) and he does NOT want that to be a thing.

“She’s a relative,” he says with so much distaste before he leaves that Piper is even more intrigued. but at the same time, there’s something that tells her she shouldn’t fan the fire any further.

they’ve had their share of back and forths, and it’s been a blue moon since something had gotten him so upset that he just up and leaves.

she drops it, and as the #1 gossipmonger of the park, the hushed whispers of “mystery between byron and belle?” is completely stamped out with a dismissive attitude and several “Really? I didn’t notice anything.”

If Byron really and truly didn't want this around the park, she'd honor that.

Of course, with QD Edgar on occasional trips with the Gang, that’s the biggest connection the sibs have at the moment.

The first time Edgar name dropped Byron, Belle froze and listened to 2.47 more seconds of the teen's rambles before telling him to get a move on around camp and quit yapping.

Edgar didn't notice this first time around and grumpily went about his way.

But I'm sure there's one thing or another that makes Edgar talk about his dad manager again, and one thing that will really piss Belle off, is comparison.

Tara, who notices the shift in mood, puts herself in between Edgar and Belle and swiftly soothes things over. She suggests getting on with the plan they have (already knowing what Belle will respond with).

"heist cancelled," Belle states, rearing up Elodie and galloping away from camp. (She usually winds down on her own after celebrating a big heist, but never before-- and never had called it quits at that.)

Edgar is put off. Tara muses that it's nothing he could help...

On her own, Belle just contemplates everything. Hours. It brings up familiar memories of being up on the rooftop with her head buried into her arms and knees feeling terrible.

Except now she's more than grown, with her share of things to be proud of and great memories she forged on her own. She's not curled up on herself anymore. She's staring to the long distance of the desert-- her home-- traveling with ease.

That stupid rooftop section of her life is nothing more than a fraction of her well-lived life.

It doesn't make her feel better.

Yet another thing Byron ruins for her without even trying.

She needed a drink.

Not wanting to head back to her camp for the night, and not in the mood to try nabbing some good drink, Belle simply walks into the bar and orders something.

Barley treats her the same as any Brawler, despite what he now knows about her.

As far as he was concerned, she came in there as a customer. And as long as she paid, he saw no problem in serving her...

She drinks quietly, and he keeps an eye on her intake.

And eventually, just like with any other customer with something heavy on their mind and enough drinks, words flow easier.

She doesnt use names, and keeps terms vague. Speaks angrily of her parents. Calls the brother a "dumbass of a pushover."

Now, it isnt like he associates Byron as a (pardon his french) 'dumbass' in any way, but it's the way she uses it that makes Barley connect the dots. The tone wasn't as bitter. Almost fond. Almost.

He lightly prods for a little bit more insight, and she gives up a little more as she drinks.

Unlike the other two members of his Trio, it wasn't in his nature to gossip, so this would stay between them.

Barley listens, because that's what she needs right now. Not advice, not interjections or lectures or deflecting the subject. Just someone to listen.

Eventually he cuts her off before she gets too inebriated (and probably causes trouble.)

{I AM going to write this scene out in depth. And cry while doing so.}

On the other side, after the season and back at the Gift Shop, Edgar is 🤔🤔 over that incident. He considers talking with Colette but 1) she's as mad as a Colette could be at the fact that he hung out with the NEW BRAWLER and TARA and didnt bother getting her ANYTHING. and 2) tbh she's a blabbermouth.

Byron does his regular check of the shop that day. Making sure Colette hasn't run off and Edgar isnt sneaking a nap.

He welcomes Edgar back from his little trivial loot and shoot games.

While Edgar hadn't even thought twice about it before, he recalls that when he had told Byron he'd be working at a different section of the park (namely with the new Brawler, Belle) he had acted just as dismissive.

Like yeah, there was your usual "old man doesn't get the teens" shenanigans, but Byron had never belittled his interest in anything before. Calling his involvement in the season a 'trivial game' sounded... personal.

He outright asks Colette if Byron was acting weird.

Any snippiness that Colette may have had for 2 minutes diminishes when there's a chance to talk with her favorite person in the world that she's seen little to none of for two months, AND about her favorite topic: Brawlers!

She spills everything she knows, because despite Piper's efforts, theres no secret a Brawler can try to keep when shes around.

She didn't find out everything of course. But she knows that there were questions involving Byron and Belle. Piper hushed it up, so for sure there was something.

Edgar nods. "Totally. I think she was close to rippin' my head off once. I brought up Byron once and she was ready to chew me out." (in case i didn't make it clear, Edgar picked up a slight drawl because of belle)

"Cool!" Colette exclaimed. "..I mean, not the rip your head off part. But that is cool too. I meant do we have lore on our hands?? That nobody ELSE knows!!?"

Edgar shushed her. Byron is in his office but the shop wasn't really sound proof.

......cue shenanigans from the Coworkers trying to figure things out in their very amateurish ways compared to Piper by "sneaking" around and "nonchalantly" trying to get him to admit something.

Byron knows they're up to something, and humors them until realizing the topic when Edgar tries bringing up the Goldarm Season.

He shuts them down even faster than Piper.

Of course, instead of deterring them like her, he just confirms their suspicions. Colette and Edgar are "o yeah we are def going to get to the bottom of this."

So, it's plan B! If they even try asking Piper she throws them for such a loop and leaves them so bewildered that Colette even forgets to ask for anything she could keep, and Edgar didnt realize she gave them nothing to work with until they're already out the door and down the street with cake pops in their hands.

So, Plan C! ...Barley.

It's hard to find a time to go there, since it's busy when they get off work. And Barley always seems to be at one place or another....

So the kids choose the perfect time (roughly midday), and just wait for the perfect day... when Byron comes in and checks the shop, then decides on his own that they could handle it for the rest of the shift and leaves them to it.

When the stars align, the teens wait until Byron is out of sight, and close up the gift shop. Their plan is to head to the bar... and maybe try and get something out of Barley..... not much of a plan, but they don't realize it there.

They make haste, running to the bar, because time crunch (when/if complaints start rolling in.)

Bursting through the doors of the Bar, Barley gives them a look. "Don't.. do that, please."

Colette apologizes enthusiastically, and urges Edgar forward. "Ask him! I'll keep watch!"

She hops over to the door and peers through it periodically.

Meanwhile, Edgar is stammering because he didnt plan anything to say, he expected Colette to talk to the robot.

"If you two think I allow underage drinking, I most certainly do not, no matter what Penny says." Barley warns.

"Uhh, no it isn't that. ...Umm. do ya know... well, you would know about Byron, and not Belle, I guess. But they've been acting weird lately, and we want to know why."

. . .

Barley pauses in consideration.

Options and questions flood around his mind, and he still had no answer.

Wonders if he should even mention Belle's visit some time ago, or the fact that he knows more in depth about it than Byron would care for, or that if Piper found out he knew more than her, and then told these two over would she be offended? ....Actually, in that case, why was he considering telling them anyway? Well, if they were interested in the topic for genuine reasons...

Edgar doesn't even know what to do either. Barley's not saying anything.

Colette squeaks, and scrambles from the door. "Edgar!! Any luck here? Because we're out of it over there!"

"What?"

"I think I see Byron heading here!!"

Who would have thought.

this is where i kind of dropped off the outline, but to continue/wrap it up, Barley points them to the curtain that covers the back room. There's an exit there which he tells them about, but the teens stay to EAVESDROP bc they care.

Barley and Byron chat. the conversation dips into the area having to do with Belle.

Byron frowns. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you're trying to get me to admit something, Barley. I can understand Piper, but you?"

"Me?" Barley asks. "Sir, you know I never mean harm."

"..." Byron stares at him unconvinced. "If Piper did put you up to this, you can tell me."

"U.. Believe it or not, I am among others in this park who care about you, Byron."

"...." wouldn't that be nice. But Byron believes him. My bad. He humors his coworker for now. "Fine." And asks for a drink.

Barley gets him his preferred one. [Lol I'll come up with it eventually.]

They talk. Barley finds out a little more. But just a little bit. Byron... it isnt like he has practice talking about ☆~feelings~☆

The teens listening in leave before too long. Colette is like O.O;; and Edgar decides that all they wanted to know was the relation between Byron and Belle, and they got that.

She agrees, and they both leave through the back door.

Byron didn't get as drunk ofc, it's still his working hours. Just enough to loosen up a bit and get through mild robot therapy.

After his leave, Barley sees him off, and then goes to check in the back. They're gone and he has a brief "oh, thought they would have gotten the hint to, listen in. Oh, well."

[There's one more event, involving the Coworkers interacting with Belle one last time, but still unplanned <3 it leads to the meet up and the fight... somehow though. I'll release that when I think of it.]

I can also see Piper being ":0 you knew before I did? And didn't tell me? You're mischievous, Barley!" In a very light hearted way at the very end.

Barley frets ;;; "I am not!"

#Brawl Stars #Townsfolk Trio #Belle #SCT #Coworkers #My Outlines

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plusultra420 · 4 years

Note

hi there! i was wondering if you could do an angsty todoroki x female reader where he and endeavor get into a really bad argument? she tries to comfort him but he then lashes out on her? happy ending, please! thank you so much! 💞💞

sure thing!! like my bio says, all my writings will be gender neutral. only they/them pronouns are used, but you can substitute them for whatever pronouns you'd like while reading! although i don’t think i actually used any pronouns for (y/n) anyways... whoops lmao.

i couldn't bring myself to make todoroki do anything super mean bc he's too much of a Good Boi™ asdkfhlkfhdhjfsdakfa

that being said, i hope you enjoy!!

masterlist

It was a pleasant evening. You had made your way over to your boyfriend, Shoto's house around noon, and had been hanging out ever since. The both of you were currently relaxing on his bed, your legs sprawled across his, both your noses buried in books. "SHOTOOOOOOO." The word seemed to shake the entire room. Probably because it did.

You sat up, looking over at Shoto with concern. He sighed, eyes swirling with anger and annoyance. You placed your hand on his shoulder in a reassuring manner, but he just removed it with a sigh. Getting up from his bed, he stalked to the door. "I'll be right back." The door slid open, swallowing Shoto, and then shut with a violent smack.

Verbal bullets fired rapidly, voices booming. Now it was your turn to sigh. You knew how much Shoto hated his father, and everyone knew how much of a pain in the ass the Number Two Hero was. You wished you could help your boyfriend, but it really wasn't your place at the moment, seeing you were in Endeavor's house.. You looked back up at the door as the shouting increased in volume.

It was about half an hour later that Shoto stormed back into his room, slamming the door after him. You, who had lain down again, trying to focus on reading, quickly sat up again. "Hey, are you alright?" His gaze met yours with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. He'd almost forgotten you were here.

"I'm fine." The words came out stiff, unfriendly. You could tell he needed some time to cool off, but you still felt horrible leaving him like this.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You asked cautiously. He seemed to tense, still standing a ways from you and his bed.

"No." There was an edge to his voice, one that you often heard when he addressed his father, but never you.

"Okay, well, if you change your mind, I'm all ears." You gave him a small smile.

"I said I'm fine." You sighed, hopping to your feet. He glanced at you as you made your way over to him, placing your arm on his shoulder like you had earlier.

"Shoto, c'mon, you know everything he says is bullsh-" You were cut off when he smacked your hand away from him. You let out a small gasp, surprised at his actions.

"Damnit, (Y/N), I said I'm fine! I don't need your pity party. You're not my therapist. Just leave me alone." He stalked over to his bed, grabbing your book and throwing it in your general direction. You lept towards the book in a flailing panic, hoping it wouldn't get damaged by your boyfriend's carelessness.

"I... Fine. I'll see you later, I guess. Or not." You whispered that last part, collecting the rest of your belongings and stalking out the door. You passed Endeavor on the way out, who gave you a sideways glare that you happily returned.

A frown graced your features as you marched home, tears gently pricking at your eyes. It hadn't really been what Shoto had said that upset you the most; it was the way he said it. His tone was so frigid, so belittling. And, yes, his words had hurt you. It's just...he'd never lashed out at you before.

It was upsetting on so many levels. All you'd done was try to help him feel better. Why'd he have to be a dick about it? You heaved another sigh, flicking a tear off your face. Whatever. He was just upset, and you were in the way. Heat of the Moment stuff he didn't mean.

...Right?

__________________________

Shoto couldn't sleep. His sheets were tied in knots around his legs from the amount of tossing and turning he'd been doing. How could he have said such awful things to you? He'd just been so angry... All you'd tried to do was make him feel better.

Gods, he was such a dick! He needed to apologize. Now. The boy shot up from his bed, making his way to his phone. He was instead slammed into the floor, forgetting his legs were currently a Gordian knot.

Ripping his legs free of the linens, he sprang back up, dialing your number as fast as humanly possible.

rrrrrrr.

Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging sys-

Shoto ended the call. Well, it was 4am; what did he expect. Regardless, he grabbed a jacket, slid on some shoes, and ran out of the house. He ran faster than what felt like he'd ever run before. When he got to your house, he went around to where your room was and blasted a column of ice beneath him, using a bush as a structural base, until he was at equal height with your window.

__________________________

Your were rudely awoken by a rapid tapping noise. Opening your eyes, you glanced around your room, spotting a shadowy figure behind the blinds on your window. The fuck? Leaving the warmth of your bed, you begrudgingly made your way to said window. Pulling the chord to lift the blinds, your eyes met a heterochromatic pair.

"Shoto?" You question aloud, opening your window so he would climb in. "What the fuck are you doing here at-" You glanced at your alarm clock. "FOUR IN THE MORNING???????"

"I came to apologize. I was a total dick earlier and you were just trying to be helpful and I'm not good with this whole feelings thing and I said things I didn't mean and-" The boy's frantic rambling was cut off as you connected your lips with his. When you pulled away, you cupped his face gently, rubbing your thumbs across his cheeks.

"Apology accepted." A soft smile graced your face as you placed your forehead against his. "Since you're here, do you wanna come in?" Shoto smiled, humming a 'yeah' in response. He crawled through your window quite clumsily, which was fucking adorable to watch in your opinion.

The two of you made your way over to your bed, cocooning yourselves under the warm sheets. Shoto wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, tracing patters onto your shoulder. You returned the favor, savoring his affection. "I love you." He sighed, pressing soft kisses onto your drooping eyelids.

"I love you too." You yawned, sleep dragging you back into the depths of unconsciousness.

#bnha #bnha x reader #fluff #mha #mha x reader #oneshot #x reader #one shot #shoto torodoki #todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki #shoto

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dammit-stark · 4 years

Note

Ooo ooo, an au i loooove is flower shop au! Where one character runs a flower shop and flowers with symbolic meanings are used- ugh the fluff/flirting potential 🥰🥰

fun fact: i’ve somehow managed to never write a flower shop au before this??? which is absurd bc it’s a friken classic so this was super fun I really enjoyed this hehe

SEND ME YOUR FAV AU AND ILL WRITE YOU A DRABBLE :)

...

He knows that it’s Pepper’s birthday. He knows because she told him a week ago, pointedly inserted it into all of his various calendars, threatened him with violence and selfish resignation as his assistance. He knows it’s her birthday.

Still, the morning of when JARVIS alerts him that he forgot to get Pepper a present, it catches Tony by surprise.

“Fuck,” He says, rubbing his face as he sits up in bed, “JARVIS, what am I supposed to get her?”

“I’m afraid you did not program me to be able to advise on gift giving, sir,” JARVIS replies, and Tony, his infernal creator, knows it’s said with joyful malice, “But if I may suggest something. Miss Potts has expressed an appreciation for fresh flowers in the past. Sir.”

Tony sighs, pulling on the nearest pair of pants, “You’re a life saver, JARVIS. Send Pep a happy birthday message, will you?”

“Very well, sir.”

“I’m gonna get some flowers. Don’t tell her I forgot.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony grabs his keys and opens the front door, stopping with one foot over the invisible jamb, “And stop mouthing me, JARVIS. You might sound polite, but I programmed you, I know when you’re sassing me.”

JARVIS is tellingly silent. Tony closes the door behind himself.

So, flowers. Flowers. How hard can flowers be? He passes four flower stands on his way to the burger joint he likes a block from the tower, and he’s positive there’s a quaint little shop the next block over. Surely, he can figure this out.

Except when Tony gets to the shop, a pink and blue awning hanging over him like an insufferably ironic storm cloud, he’s at a complete loss.

Would she like pink or blue? Roses or carnations? Tulips? Lilies? Daisies? Something yellow? Maybe something orange like her hair? Would she be offended by that? Probably. Isn’t there a green thing she likes? Surely, she’s mentioned it before. It’s gotta be somewhere in the recesses of Tony’s unfocused brain, somewhere.

He’s standing at a loss in front of a vibrant display that looks distinctly like the photoshop color picker exploded.

“Excuse me, sir. Can I help you with something, sir?”

“Don’t call me sir.”

“Sorry?”

“I get enough of that from my robots, I don’t need it from- attractive flower salesman. Hi. Tony Stark. Nice to meet you.”

Aforementioned flower salesman blinks, and Tony notes with satisfaction the dee blush high on his cheeks.

“Uh, can I help you find something?”

In a moment, Tony’s moving again, hands fluttering, mind whirring, mouth working without the rest of his body’s knowledge, about as per usual. He picks up a colorful bouquet of various wild flowers, smells it, and puts back with a scrunched nose, “I need a birthday present for my assistant. Something that says ‘Thank you for being in my life. No I didn’t forget your birthday, see. Love you’.”

The salesman looks at his shoes when he talks, nodding, “Well we have a variety of flowers that can express love or lust. A mauve carnation, for example. Or coriander is a lovely way to express the same sentiment. Red roses obviously mean love, and calla lilies symbolize beauty. We can assemble you a beautiful bouquet with these if you would like.”

Tony scrunches his nose like he smelled another disagreeing flower fragrance, “I don’t think you understand. I was thinking of something a little more.. platonic. More gratitude and friendship than sex and love.”

Steve’s head shoots up from the spot on the floor that he had been all but staring a hole through, and his eyes are wide, “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. We don’t really bat for the same teams, if you know what I’m saying.”

The blush returns to Steve’s face, but there’s an excited, hopeful glint in his eyes. And when he speaks, the words come out faster, rushers “Daffodils and peach roses then,” He says with confidence, “Appreciation. Yellow roses, too, maybe. For friendship.

Oh! And we can’t forget about alstroemeria! Better known as Lily of the Incas, they’re beautiful flowers that are most popular in bouquets for platonic love and friendship. What do you think?”

Tony smiles, and Steve’s breath audibly hitches, it’d almost be funny if Tony wasn’t so wooed by all the flower talk, “That sounds great. I’ll take all of it in one big, gorgeous bouquet.”

Steve moves behind the counter, “It’s gonna be pricy.”

Tony’s responding grin is knowing and cool, and his eyes squint minutely at the corners with this joyfulness, “Don’t worry. I can cover it. How fast can you get it done? Can we make this happen today? I know it’s last minute, but this’ll really save my butt.”

Steve reads down the long list of invoice orders ahead of him. He looks up to tell Tony that it’s impossible and- “Give me two hours.”

Apparently his heart (and eyes, and dick) put Tony at the top of the list. Tony has no idea, just smiles cheerfully, and nods, pulling out a shiny black credit card from his back pocket. Steve had always thought the black card thing had been a myth, an urban legend made up by money-grubbing banks and capitalists, but when he slides the card through the machine, it doesn’t bounce.

“Alright,” Steve says as he hands the card back, “I’ll see you in two hours.”

When Tony opens the front door to leave, he wiggles his fingers in a funny goodbye and disappears back into the New York streets. He’s starting to be glad he forgot Pepper’s birthday in the first place, even if she potentially hates him forever for dropping the ball.

Two hours later, Tony returns, and the bell on the green painted door to the quaint shop rings as he enters. Steve is nowhere to be found. A grumpy-looking, long-haired curmudgeon mans the counter instead.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up an order for Stark,” Tony says with a charming smile, one hand coming down to slap the blue painted countertop.

The florist, his name tag reading BUCKY :) in big, ironic letters turns around still frowning, and roots around for Tony’s bouquet. When he turns around, he’s holding two bouquets. He sets them both on the counter. Tony stares at them.

“I’m sorry,” He says, pointing at the redder one of the two, “I only ordered one.”

Bucky points with malice at the unfamiliar bouquet, “Yeah, I know. Apparently this one’s on the house. It’s from Stevie.”

“Stevie, huh?” Tony quips, the corners of his lips turning into a smile.

“Steve, yeah.”

“Tell Steve to call me then. So I can thank him.”

Bucky shakes his head, looking boring and maybe even irritated. He points at the on-the-house arrangement, “His number’s on the card.”

Tony smiles and scoops both bouquets up into his arms.

“You guys really have great service,” Tony jeers, and Bucky continues looking unamused and uninterested, “Thanks, Bucky!”

When Tony gives Pepper her gift, she’s duly impressed by the thoughtful layers to it. Tony proudly tells her what all the flowers mean.

She watches him dubiously from over top the crest of flowers, “So who told you what to get me? Who do I really have to thank?”

Tony shakes his head and refuses to think about JARVIS or Steve (just in case Pepper secretly has mind reading abilities, you can never be too safe), “I did it all by myself, Pep. Come on, give me some credit.”

She still looks suspicious, her nose in a lily, but eventually she nods, “Yeah, sure. You pass. Even if you didn’t think it up yourself, there was obviously some forethought since you can’t just go out and get a custom bouquet the same day. Good job, Tony. You’ve set the bar for next year.”

Tony groans.

It’s quarter to eleven, and Tony’s been staring his own bouquet, carefully placed in a genuine crystal vase on his kitchen counter, for almost an hour now. He finally gets up the nerve to google the symbolism surrounding the flowers and-

They’re all variations on lust or pining. A couple that have alternate meanings of love that Tony tries not to dwell on. He carefully punches the number into his phone and presses dial.

“H-hello?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“Who is this?”

“Tony Stark from the flower shop this morning.”

It sounds like something is dropped, something fumbled, and Steve’s a little breathless when he finally speaks, “Did you, uh, get my flowers?”

Tony’s smiling even though he knows Steve can’t see him, and it’s all kinda ridiculous, but he sees that beautiful bouquet in his kitchen and sees red roses behind his eyes, mauve carnations dancing in his vision, “Yeah,” He says, smiling like an absolute idiot, “I should give you some daffodils in exchange, I appreciated them so much.”

Steve snorts, and Tony imagines him smiling too.

“What? Is that not how it works?”

“I’m glad you appreciated them, Tony Stark. I meant it.”

Tony feels a feeling in his stomach, something like purple lilacs rising through him.

“Wanna go for dinner sometime?”

He imagines Steve’s smile looking like a field of daisies.

“I’d love to.”

#Stevetony #flower shop au #drabble #ask

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somenewsarah · 5 years

Text

Always Been You

Requested: Yes: “Hey luv x I was wondering if you could write an imagine with Dracoxreader where Draco gets in a fight with this dude the reader is dating bc he’s just using her but after Draco beats him up he acts like nothing happened bc he doesn’t want the reader to know he likes her.”

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: Fighting, soft!draco

Genre: Fluffy Fluff

Word Count: 2.1K

It didn’t take long for Draco to notice you; no, in fact, the first time he laid eyes on you was in second year. Professor Quirrell had just announced that there was a troll in the castle, and you’d bumped into Draco in your haste to get out of the Great Hall, and back to the Ravenclaw common room. He’d never forget how wide your eyes were, or how your voice sounded when you apologized for the collision. He’d never forget the way you looked at him, and from that day on, he was almost infatuated with you.

Now, in sixth year, at the height of Lord Voldemort’s return, you find yourself bumping into the Malfoy boy a lot, almost like he followed you wherever he went. You’d find little fixes on a tear in your bag, or a new book addressed to you in your common room. At first, you thought it was your boyfriend, Marcus Belby, who was your secret advocate, but you were beginning to wonder… No, you were being silly again.

You sit in the common room, reading through that night’s potions homework from Professor Slughorn when Marcus himself enters. He plops down beside you, and you offer him a small smile.

“Hello, handsome,” you tease.

“Hi,” he says, giving you a tight smile. “Doing homework? Great, mind if I grab my books and study with you? These potions lessons are giving me so much grief.”

“Sure,” you say, sighing softly. He ruffles your hair as he gets up. This was normal for you. It wasn’t a secret that you were one of the cleverest witches in your year, tailing closely behind Hermione Granger, but Marcus usually only appeared when you were doing your homework. You didn’t mind it, though. He’d been busy with the “Slug Club”, a club made by Professor Slughorn for his star pupils. You weren’t in it, but you were happy for Marcus, nonetheless.

“Got it,” he smiles, sitting next to you on the small couch. He opens his books and begins looking over your own homework, fixing his wrong answers and almost copying word for word what you’d written.

“How’s the Slug Club?” You ask, hoping just for a small conversation.

“That? Yeah, it’s alright,” he says, pulling his lip between his teeth as he continues writing.

“Would you maybe want to tell me about it?” You prod.

“Y/N, we don’t have to talk about everything, do we? I mean, why can’t we just sit quietly and study together?”

“I suppose you’re right,” you breathe, not wanting to argue. You go back to your own homework, trying to refocus your brain.

Weeks go by, and soon the ground is covered in snow, the air is frosty, and you wanted nothing more than to stay outside and enjoy the fresh air. You walk towards the Black Lake, one of your favorite spots to read and think because of the seclusion, when you bump into the blond himself.

“Draco, hi,” you smile, waving at him.

“Y/N,” he smiles sweetly; it wasn’t a smile anyone saw often, but you were glad when you got to see it. “I was just heading back into the castle, care to join me?”

“No, sorry,” you say. “I was heading to the Black Lake to do some reading. Maybe some other time?”

“Sure,” Draco says. He hesitates as if he wants to say something more, but turns on his heels and continues towards the castle.

As you continue on your way, Draco turns back once to look at you once, then straightens himself up. He walks briskly through the snow, but he doesn’t make it far when he hears your name from a group of Ravenclaws sitting on the stairs.

“Y/N’s really great,” Marcus Belby, Y/N’s boyfriend, starts. “Honestly, she lets me copy all of her homework and always asks me about my day. I don’t have to put in much effort. I just need to prepare for my N.E.W.T.S and then I’ll be able to get out of this.”

“Why would you get out of it?” Another Ravenclaw boy, Terry Boot, chuckles. “Sounds like you’ve got it made, Belby.”

“Oh, I do, believe me. This is my most brilliant idea yet,” he laughs.

Draco straightens himself up and marches over to the group of boys, still laughing and talking about you like you were nothing but a tool for them to move forward.

“Gentlemen,” Draco starts, clearing his throat. “Might I have a word with Belby, here?”

“What’s this about, Malfoy?” Marcus starts, standing him from the bench he was perched on. “Anything you need to speak with me about, you can do in front of everyone.”

“Very well. I couldn’t help but overhearing you talking about Y/N?”

“Yeah, what about her? Need some homework help? Belby’s got some tips,” David Hilliard roars. The boys laugh, and Draco huffs, trying his hardest to compose himself.

“No, I came to tell you to keep her name out of your grimy, selfish mouths,” he says, gritting his teeth as he watches them roar even harder with laughter.

“I don’t know who you think you are, Malfoy, but I’ll talk about my girlfriend anyway I’d like,” Marcus says, puffing his chest out at Draco. His face was dangerously close to the blond boy’s. “Now run along, mate, before you say something you regret.”

The laughter had died down and now everyone in the group was staring between Marcus and Draco. The air is tense as Draco’s jaw locks. Almost as if he can feel your presence coming from the black lake, he tries calming himself, but the glint in Marcus Belby’s eyes was enough to piss him off.

You watch from the top of the hill as Marcus shoulders up to Draco, and you cannot bear it to move. You clutch your books against your chest, watching. Marcus says something through his teeth, but you can’t hear what, and lucky that you didn’t, because Draco takes the first swing.

His fist connects with a loud ‘pop’, and before you know it, you’re running to the scene. Marcus recoils back, but leans forward with all his weight and tackles Draco to the ground.

“Draco!” You shout, running faster to get to the group.

The fight is in full swing now, Draco and Marcus are rolling around in the snow, each getting in cheap punches where they can. Marcus is on top now, railing his fist into Draco’s face, but he doesn’t stay there long. Draco pushes him off just as you reach the scene. You grab Draco’s arm, pulling him out of the snow just as Marcus lunges again. You insert yourself in the middle, glaring up at Marcus.

“What are you two idiots thinking? You’re going to get expelled!”

“He took the first hit,” Marcus growls, pointing at Draco. “He should be the one expelled!”

You turn to look at Draco, but he simple spits some blood from his mouth and turns, walking back towards the castle. You move to follow him, but Marcus grabs your arm.

“What?” You snap, your eyes ablaze as you glare up at him.

“Don’t chase after him,” he warns. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“Don’t presume to tell me what to do,” you say. You snatch your arm away, and turn on your heels. “I’m going inside, we’ll talk about this later.”

You stalk behind Draco, following him as he turns corners in corridors. You turn the last corner, and he’s stopped, waiting for you with folded arms.

“You’re following me because?”

“Draco, what happened?” You demand, crossing your own arms and staring up at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N. Just leave me alone, alright?”

“No!” You push. “Not until you tell me what happened out there! Why did you punch Marcus?”

“It’s none of your business. Just go, I mean it,” he says, running his fingers through his blond hair. You sigh and reach up, wiping a bit of blood from his cheek.

“Draco,” you whisper. He looks down at you, his eyes stormy and grey as ever, his jaw clenched. “At least let me take you to the hospital wing to get this taken care of. You’re bleeding everywhere.”

“Y/N, it’s fine. Just let it go. I’ll be fine,” he assures you. “Just go.”

“Draco,” you finally explode, stamping your foot like a petulant child. “You don’t get to have a full-on fight with my boyfriend, then tell me that it’s none of my business and to just go away. Stop shutting me out, dammit!”

“You don’t know the things he was saying about you! You don’t know what I stood there and listened to. Trust me,” he says darkly. “He deserved every hit I gave him.”

“Wha- you hit him because of me?”

“Just drop it, Y/N.”

“Draco, please,” you beg, trying a different approach now. You give him your biggest eyes, your lips forming a perfect pout. The pout does the trick.

“Y/N,” he sighs, rubbing his hand down his face. “He’s using you. Okay? He’s using you because knows how incredible you are.”

“Incredible?” You ask, tiling your head.

“Yes, incredible,” his voice is almost a whisper. “He’s using you to help him study for his N.E.W.T.S, because he knows that no matter what, if he’s using your notes, he’s going to pass because he knows how incredibly smart you are. Everybody knows how incredibly smart you are. And funny, and brave, and stubborn.”

You look up at Draco, your mind swimming as you process his every word.

“So,” you start, swallowing hard. “He… he doesn’t like me?”

Draco shakes his head sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I just thought- I guess I thought that after all the gifts and the little things that kept happening this year, that maybe it was him… But I guess not,” you say, your eyes searching the floor.

“You gave him credit for that?” Draco asks, a mild taste of disgust in his tone. “Forgive me for saying, but he hasn’t been the most romantic creature.”

“How do you even know that?” You ask, your voice raising an octave.

“Because no real romantic would take credit for someone else’s work,” he scoffs, dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand.

“It was you,” you say suddenly, the thought coming from absolutely nowhere.

“Of course it was me!” He explodes again. He paces the length of the hallway. “Who do you think gave you that green bag you liked so much in Hogsmead a few months ago? How do you think that same green bag continues to be repaired seemingly out of nowhere every time you rip it by putting too many books in it? Where do you think all of those books come from?”

“Draco-“ He stops in front of you, taking your hands in his own.

“It’s always been me, Y/N, because it’s always been you. Since that moment in second year- do you remember? You bumped into me trying to get out of the Great Hall because of the troll,” he says, his eyes searching yours.

“Yes, I remember.”

“Ever since then, Y/N. Every time something bad almost happened… When Professor Slughorn first started teaching and you couldn’t get the potion right, I dropped the right ingredient in to keep in from exploding in your face while you were in the cupboard. And when your robes ripped because Pansy stepped on them, I repaired them. And when you went with the Durmstrang boy to the Yule Ball and he left you, who was there?”

“You,” you whisper, your eyes locked on his. He pulls you towards him slowly, and his hand reaches up to brush a loose strand of hair from your face. “But, why?”

“Because you’re special to me, darling. You always have been. You intrigue me without even trying,” he says softly, letting his index finger trail down your cheek.

“Why did you never say anything?”

“Because I knew who I was destined to be. Who I am now, is not someone I’m proud of- is not someone you can be proud of. Because you deserve more than who I am now,” he says, dropping his hand. He steps away from you and fixes the collar of his shirt. He turns to walk away.

“Draco wait,” you say. You grab his arm and, dropping the bag off your shoulder, you pull him to you, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him softly.

He doesn’t kiss you back at first, almost as if he were still registering that it was even happening. But soon, he’s holding onto you like you’re his lifeline, kissing you back hungrily.

“It’s always been you,” he whispers, finally pulling away from you. “And it’ll always be you.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” you whisper back, smiling up at him.

He grins down at you, then pulls your face back up to his and kisses you softly. Finally, your world feels like it’s spinning on the right axis, and you feel at home.

#requests open #taking requests #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fluff #ravenclaw #draco malfoy x reader #slytherin #fighting #fluff #angst with a happy ending #jealousy #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #hogwarts

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diamondcamefromhell · 4 years

Text

Dance

Summary: this was a request by @rosasteri [who may as well be dubbed my creative muse bc the request i get from them make me super inspired ]“ hi, can I request Jaskier x reader? jask, geralt and reader stay in tavern. jaskier plays his music, but other bard comes and jaskier decides to take a rest. people start to dance so jaskier offers to reader his hand and trying to convince her to dance. but reader doesn't know how to dance so Jask teaches her “

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2,019

A/N: i really dont have anything to say, lmao, for some reason im at a loss for words today - spent most of it writing original story, and now have an this dying rge to read percy jackson, so guess i know what i will do tonight, lol, either way

any and all feedback is appreciated and can be left anonymously on my ask page <3

I heard raindrops outside before Jaskier strung his lute again. I peak out the window to see lighting strike somewhere far away. The tavern, however is dry and safe. A fireplace is lit near me, providing a good bit of warmth. I lean my back against it now, looking at Jask.

His shadows remind me of the monsters Geralt slays, splashed across the floor. The wood creaks beneath his feet, but his music overpowers it as his singing fills the room. I hear Geralt grunt in front of me as he chugs his ale. Our eyes meet, and while he seems annoyed, he also looks happy. He got rid of some noonwraiths today, so we were celebrating. The townsfolk were welcoming to their newly found hero and his sidekicks.

Jaskier prances to our table, as if to check if his friends were paying attention to him. He made it really hard not to. I wink at him, as he offers me a smile, dancing away now. I sip my wine, taking eyes off the bard to look at the witcher. His gaze was glued to the window, but a smile was on his lips. I decided not to bother.

I hear some disturbance come from the entrance, as a man rushes in. He’s wet from the rain, but I doubt he cares about that. From underneath his jacket he pulls out a lute, inspecting it to see if there is any rain damage on it. I see his shoulders relax and the answer is clear.

Jaskier seems to notice a fellow bard too, stopping his lute. He waves the guy in, allowing him to take the honours of entertaining the guests, as he drops next to Geralt.

“I need a break.” He exhales the words, taking his ale and sipping it.

“Oh yes, being a bard is sure tiring.” Geralt teases, as Jask nudges him.

“Try to do it yourself, then.” I smirk at them, twirling the drink in my glass. “Y/N, do you think being a bard is easy?”

“Easier than being a witcher.” I mumble, chuckling. “But sure, it’s not easy.”

“I have to entertain the masses, you know what happens when they aren’t pleased?” Jaskier dramatically throws his hands in the air, looking to Geralt and back to me.

“They throw rocks at you?” I can’t help but let out a laugh and Geralt’s comment, who in response smirks. “Because that’s what some do when they see a witcher. They throw rocks or whatever happens to be at their disposal. One time it was a cat.”

“Oh no.” I say, now fully laughing. I see Jaskier break character too, as he giggles. “Cats hate you, Geralt.”

“Feelings mutual.” He smirks, as I giggle again.

The silence between is comfortable, but soon the rained upon bard fills it. His lute sounds different, not the sounds I’m used to, but it’s still pleasant. His voice now fills the tavern and I steal a glance at Jaskier, to see what he thinks.

From what I can tell, he likes it. His lips are curled in a smile, and he’s nodding along, without realizing it. I relax, glad he’s not getting competitive. Our eyes meet and he sticks his tongue out.

“I wont try to overplay him.” He says, as I smirk.

“Not again.” Geralt corrects the bard, who flushes red, downing his drink.

“Shut up.” He practically gargles at us.

I laugh. One time at a similar evening, another bard came in and Jaskier wasn’t happy about it. He also wasn’t on his first ale. Or his fifth, for that matter. So he tried to overplay the other guy, and things went wrong faster than Geralt and I could grasp. Our good friend was trying so hard, he danced into a pillar, breaking his lute in half, and then crying.

We helped him out. After we stopped laughing.

I see people spring to their feet now, as the empty space is filling up with patrons, dancing. Couples and friends alike start to move. In turn, bard makes his melody more cheery. I appreciate that, nudging my head side to side in beat.

“Y/N! Let’s dance!” Jaskier yells suddenly, startling me. I stare at the bard, who is already on his feet.

“Jaskier, you know I don’t dance.” I say, as he rolls his eyes.

“Stop being a party pooper and just do it.” He teases as I cross my arms. He grabs my shoulder shaking me.

“I don’t know how to dance!” I argue, and he stops the shaking only to start poking my arm.

“I’ll teach you.” He argues back and I see Geralt raise his eyebrows.

“Teach Y/N how to dance into pillars? Don’t let her embarrass herself like that.” I give witcher a thankful look, but Jaskier is relentless.

“Geralt, fuck off.” He puts his hand right up Geralt’s face, before looking to me again. “Y/N, let’s go!”

“Fine!” I finally give in, as Geralt looks like he is really close to losing his shit and hitting Jask or, gods forbid, his lute. I’d rather avoid another broken-lute-and-cry situation, as funny as it was.

I lazily stand up, and before I can even gain proper footing, Jaskier drags me out. I nearly run into one of the dancers, but at a last second, Jask pulls me out of the way. I glare at the bard who offers me an apologetic smile.

I straighten up, as he starts to step around, dancing. I blankly stare at him, not moving an inch of my body. Jaskier sighs, grabbing my hand and waving it around.

“Loosen up, Y/N.” I roll my eyes.

“I’m dancing. It’s called a statue.” I tease, as Jaskier nudges me, laughing.

“Just step around.” I raise my eyebrows. “Like you really need to use the restroom, but in time with the music.”

“What now?” I laugh, as he rolls his eyes, pulling away.

I try to take his advice the best of my ability, stepping around a little, but timing it with the music. Jaskier grins and I can tell he’s trying to hold back a laugh. I stop, getting embarrassed, once he realizes that, he laughs and hugs me.

“I’m sorry, it’s just your legs, they move, but from waist up you look dead.” He laughs in my ear as my face heats up.

“Well should I just act like I’m dying and shake all around?” He snickers, pulling away. His hand still on my shoulder now slides to my hand.

“Let me lead you.” I press my lips, nodding.

“Sure.” I say, through my teeth.

“Do the leg thing.” I am not sure what he means, so the bard sighs. “The toilet dance.”

“Right.”

I do ‘the leg thing’ as Jask gently moves my arms around. He sees that I am not showing much, if any, restraint, so he grows more confident and bold in his moves. I feel like a ragdoll, dragged around, and he starts spinning.

Until I trip, falling and getting under his feet. He crashes on top of me, and I swear I hear Geralt laugh.

“I can’t breathe!” I grunt, as I feel Jaskier vibrate on top of me. It takes me a moment to realize he’s laughing. I try to push him, but the bard just won’t budge. “Jaskier, for the love of god!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He says, finally lifting himself off me. I glare at him as he extends his arm to me, helping me up. He breaks out into laughter yet again. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” I say, cleaning my dress with my hands. I feel my cheeks heat up as I see people snickering looking our way.

“Like you hate me.” He pokes my cheek, removing his hand before I can punch it away.

“But I do.” I respond, as the bard ends his song. People cheer for him, as Jaskier and I stare at each other. I struggle to keep a straight face, breaking into a smile. “I hate you.”

“Sure you do.” Jaskier purrs, winking at me, before the bard plays another song, and he starts dancing around.

I don’t wait for him to drag me around again, and I start moving. I do the toilet dance, not forgetting my upper body this time. Jaskier looks me up and down, smiling. The tune pics up in speed, and I struggle to keep up, scared of tripping.

“Don’t be so scared.” I hear the familiar voice, as if he just read my mind. I give a quick glare at the bard, before focusing back to my feet. “You’re thinking too much.”

“If I don’t, I’ll be falling too much.” I hiss, still not lifting my eyes, until his hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me.

“Just look at me or close your eyes, and listen to the music.” He does a twist, grinning. “Let the music carry you.”

“I’m not a musician, Jaskier. Music doesn’t carry me.” He beeps my nose in response, an even bigger grin painting across his face.

“Music has a power to carry anyone. You just need to allow it to do it.” He waves me closer to himself, so I lean in. “And the secret is, nobody knows how to dance. That’s why nobody also judges others. We all just… allow ourselves to move.”

I step back, taking a deep breath in. I close my eyes, listening to the fast-cheery tune. I focus on the bards voice, as it wraps around me. I try to let go off my anxiety and fears, letting my body lose. I try not to think of what I’ doing and who may be watching. I follow the notes like my body is the instrument.

It feels freeing, as if some weight has been lifted off my chest.

I open my eyes, expecting to see some judgemental looks, hear some laughter, but just like Jaskier said, nobody was judging me. I even stole a glance at Geralt, who was simply paying no attention to us. I look at the bard, as he gives me an encouraging nod.

The song dramatically slows, and he now steps closer, extending his arm. I never danced with anyone, but Jaskier seemed like a good practise. We were great friends, so if something went wrong, I am less likely to want to dig myself into a hole.

His hand lands on my waist as I put mine on his shoulder. He takes our free hands, lifting it to the side. I know males lead, so I try to do the same thing. Give in to music, and follow the energy, which in this case was my partner. Our eyes meet and his blue ones shine, reflecting the fire. I smile, not even realizing we are, in fact dancing.

“You’re a natural.” He says, gently pushing me so I would turn.

“Maybe you’re a good lead.” He pretends to be surprised, twisting me around.

“Yes, I think that’s it.” He finally agrees, winking, as I let out a giggle. “See, dancing isn’t that bad.”

“I guess so.” I am reluctant to agree, I know he wont let me live this down. “As long as no pillars happen to be in a way.”

“You will never forget it, will you?” He says through his giggle, and I shrug.

“Maybe. But I wont forget this either.” I say, as he gives me a kind smile.

The song ends and I don’t let go off his hand, dragging us back to our table. We sit down and Geralt looks at us.

“You two danced well.” He says and I am taken back, as it is rare to get a compliment from witcher.

“Thanks.” I whisper, looking at the table.

I let go off Jaskiers hand, my heart beating faster. I don’t hear whatever he starts to blabber about, and I notice Geralt look away too. A different song picks up, and I cant stop my feet from dancing under the table.

I look out the window to see the rain has passed. The sky is clearing up.

#jaskier request #jaskier x reader #jaskier fluff #but not really??#witcher imagine #jaskier imagine #jaskier one shot #tagging makes me so tired #after like two tags im so over it #but exposure #i want it #pls

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bxcksdoll · 5 years

Note

can you write a steve x stark!reader when carol brings tony back to earth and y/n is with her father, steve is worried as fuck and then when tony and steve have that scene where tony argues with him y/n starts crying bc she's done with all of it

A week had passed since the snap. Since the extinction of half of all life. The extinction of everyone’s happiness. The fight was lost and there was nothing left to do. The avengers sulked around the compound, nothing left to lose anymore. Most had given up hope of your father, Tony Stark, returning. But not you.

You and your mother, Pepper Potts, would never - could never give up on the thought of Tony returning. The others wallowed in their self-pity and loathing whilst the two of you waited in hope and anxiousness that he would return.

One night, you sat by your window reading a book; lately, you had desperately searched for ways to take your mind off the horrors that had taken place a week before. Nothing could truly make you forget or even feel much better but you kept on looking for distractions. For an escape.

The words on the page before you were simply a blur. You merely glanced at them, not breathing them in with a full heart and soul as you did before. You doubted that feeling would ever return.

As your eyes slowly dragged over the blurry letters, you began to hear a low, distance sound. At first, you thought nothing of it and suggested to yourself that it was, what was left of, your imagination. However, to your surprise the sound became louder until a bright light formed in the corner of your eye.

Turning your head towards the light, a miraculous spectacle arose before your eyes. The light shone painfully through your dazed features as your eyes adjusted to the figure of a spaceship flying towards the compound.

Throwing the unforgotten book across the room, you scrambled from your position against the window and flung your bedroom door open; your feet carried your once exhausted and drained body through the halls, down to where the ship was landing. When entering the room next to the exit, you noticed Pepper was already there.

“Mom,” you called, a mix of hope and relief in your voice.

Pepper turned around, clutching her hand to her chest. “It’s him. I know it is,” she responded, tears visible in her eyes.

Moments later, Steve burst into the room; his entrance almost made you as anxious as the spaceship. The realisation dawned on you: Tony didn’t know about you and Steve. The two of you had grown much closer since the snap took place - you had always been close but his fight with your dad had created some distance in your relationship. You had never been together with Steve but you both certainly felt a strong connection.

“What the hell is that?” Steve asked, pushing past you to open the outside door. After him, all the avengers rushed out to witness the continents of the spaceship. You flung to Pepper as the two of you jogged over to the landing ship.

As it hit the ground, the doors slowly opened and a frail, small man stumbled out. Steve began to ran faster, catching the man on his feet. At the sight of him, you stopped in your tracks, tears pooling in your eyes. However, Pepper carried on ahead, running faster.

You couldn’t believe the sight of your dad, he looked so weak and exhausted. A crushing pain shot through your chest, pressing down on your ribs as you continued to walk towards him.

“D-dad,” you cried. Tony turned to you, a sad smile covering his lips as he grabbed your shoulders and brought you in for a tight embrace. He felt skinnier but heavier; he leaned his body weight on you as though he wasn’t able to support himself. Pepper noticed this and held him up as you all walked back to the compound.

Tony was provided with adequate medical care he so desperately needed and a wheelchair in case he grew weaker. Now, the avengers stood around a table. Discussing the dreaded events of the previous week. You hoped against all hope that Steve and Tony wouldn’t bring up the accords but, of course, everything went back to them.

“Tony I’m gonna need you to focus,” Steve wished for a possible chance of a second chance with defeating Thanos and Tony was his only hope.

“And I needed you, as in, past tense. That trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy,” Tony guilt-tripped Steve, from his wheelchair. “Do you know what I need?” Tony swiped some objects off the table and stood up, swaying slightly. “I need a shave.”

“Tony-” Rhodey cautioned as Tony began to rip off his medical tubes.

“I remember telling you that what we needed was a suit of armour around the world, remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not - that’s what we needed!”

“Well that didn’t work out, did it?” Steve replied, calmly, hurt visible in his blue eyes.

“I said we’d lose and you said ‘we’ll do that together too’ but guess what, Cap? We lost. And you weren’t there.” You saw the hurt in Steve’s eyes, the everlasting guilt.

“Dad, it’s not Steve’s-”

“Ah! Don’t interrupt me, Y/N. The adults are talking,” Tony patronised you. He always saw you as a child. He continued with his speech whilst Rhodey tried to get him to sit down. However, Tony wouldn’t comply and the situation was getting out of hand.

He walked over to the tall blond. As Tony stood by Steve, barely able to support his own body weight, attempting to stand as tall as he could. Seeing your dad like this made your heart shatter. He was your idol, you hated seeing him broken like this.

“I got nothing for you, Cap! No clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust, liar,” he whispered the last part. His incessant behaviour hit you hard, you always hated seeing the two men fight but this was too much. They had closely avoided death and still were arguing. Silent tears ran down your cheeks as you attempted to brush them away; you didn’t want anyone to see you like this - you felt you had to be strong.

“Here take this,” Tony tore his arc reactor from his chest as placed it in Steve’s hand, “you find him, you put that on, you hide.”

Suddenly, Tony fell to the floor. Finally unable to support himself. You rushed over to up, unable to hold your tears back now. Rhodey helped you carry Tony to a bed and Pepper stayed by his side.

Walking out of the room, you were met by a sorrowful Steve. He was utterly guilt-ridden with the pain he caused Tony and felt responsible for the depressed expression that appeared on your face.

“Y/N,” he breathed, choosing his words carefully. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I hope you can forgive me and I hope I haven’t caused Tony too much pain. I didn’t realise that the accords would have torn us all apart and that without them we could have defeated Thanos. I’m extremely sorry, I truly am,” his glossing eyes stared into your own. Your heart beat ferociously inside your chest, heartbroken that he’d ever think that.

“Steve, you have nothing to apologise for. It wasn’t your fault, you know. My dad is just sleep deprived and emotional right now. He understands you’re not to blame but he, deep down, he blames himself. Don’t beat yourself up about this,” you smiled, reaching up on your tip-toes to give him a hug around his shoulders. He, slowly, placed his arms around your lower back, squeezing you lightly but securely.

“Thank you, Y/N. You’re the only thing I have left,” he mumbled into your ear.

Your stomach flooded with butterflies, appreciative of his words but also devastated for him that he had lost so much. You leaned back, your face inches from his.

“Oh, Steve, I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “But, you don’t have to worry. You’ll never lose me.” Next, you took the heart-leaping risk and leaned further into him. You captured your lips with his, lightly at first. It took a moment for Steve to response, the pure shock of your action had him frozen. Then, he kissed you back, harder than you had. You shared a long, tender kiss - the most beautiful kiss you’d ever experienced.

Leaning back from your lips, Steve brushed some hair from your face and placed his forehead on yours. “You’ll never lose me either, Y/N.”

Tag list: @xmarveled

A/N: hey guys :)) I’m back! And I’m gonna start posting my fics under the hashtag #niv’s mind so if you wanna find my fics that won’t be on my master list (since it’s getting kinda crowded) it’ll be on that!

#niv’s mind #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot

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disgrays-on · 5 years

Text

unfinished (much like jason in this fic)

Pairing: Jason Todd // Reader

Summary: “taken care of me real good lately,” there’s almost a sultry note to your voice, the words falling gently from your lips like the first few drops of rain against his burning skin, “will you let me return the favour?”

A/N: wrote this a while ago bc being thirsty for jason todd is a constant mood for me but i dunno if i’ll ever finish writing it so have this incomplete and unedited piece instead. and yes, i am pleased with the title of this post.

nsfw under the cut, please keep that in mind!! if sexy times aren’t your thing, might be best to just skip this one.

“taken care of me real good lately.” there’s almost a sultry note to your voice, the words falling gently from your lips like the first few drops of rain against his burning skin, “will you let me return the favour?”

see, jason knows what you’re asking for. and rationally, he knows that you’re not asking for much. sit back and let you have your way, have your fun, have your fill. it’s all for him, you tell him all the time, for him to unwind. a moment to relax, a moment to decompress. he’s been needing it for a while now. but still, it’s hard. relinquishing control. goes against much of what he’s known and all of what he’s taught. lowering his guard down fully is scary business. it leaves him open and defenceless and, more often than not, it means nothing but trouble. and he supposes that’s what you are. trouble. with your pretty eyes and pretty smile and scheming mind.

jason’s insides swirl and churn as you shift closer, eyes never leaving his. one of your hands move to cup his face, a thumb running smoothly over his cheek, “is that okay?”

the feeling of desperate helplessness has never suited jason’s tastes very well. sparked a different kind of fire, now green and icy-hot, triggered his instincts like blaring alarms. but this is you: the saccharine sweetness who has made promises and has kept each and every one, who has traced his skin with pepperings of kisses like you’re connecting the stars and building your own constellations, who has looked at him and has seen more than just sharp jagged pieces to mash together, like a twisted version of a jigsaw puzzle, in the visions of someone who has long ago died. giving into you is simple.

“it’s just you and me now,” you promise him. it’s awful just how well you knew him, “you don’t need to worry about this too.”

he leans helplessly into your touch, the clever words he wants to say drying up at the tenderness and affection. this is you giving him a moment to breathe, a way out, to return to what the both of you had been doing before. the romcom you’ve been meaning to watch is still playing on the tv, quiet but not inaudible, flashes of different colours washing over the room. there’s a half-eaten slice of the chocolate cake that you’d made earlier on in the day on the coffee table, and more in the fridge. there are several more movies lined up that the both of you could see to. one word and you’d settle into his side comfortably instead.

but he needs this. finds himself grasping for this moment like he needs it to live.

“i- yeah, it’s-” words are hard when you’re so close and he's so hyper-aware of even the slightest point of contact. he manages an ugly croak, running his tongue across his bottom lip afterwards, “yeah.”

he can’t look away from you as you settle on top of him, straddling his legs. can never forget this sight, will never forget it. your next movements are careful. slow and deliberate. always so thoughtful, his angel. jason carefully slides his palms down your sides, and settles them over your hips.

“haven’t told you enough lately,” you murmur, your fingers sliding down to rest on his shoulders. your lips move to brush just barely against his own before you pull back slightly to continue, “just how much i love you. my pretty bird.”

“so strong and so brave,” you coo, fingers smoothing down his arms before they crawl so slowly under his shirt, mapping out scarred skin and toying with the waistband of his sweatpants. in the grand scheme of things, the words are nothing. but he feels like everything when you say it. kisses follow the trail that your fingers have made, down his jaw and down his neck, presses a beat longer against his pulse point.

this isn’t the first time you’ve done this, no, but he finds himself at the precipice of a whining mess every single time. you sing him praises, you make him feel so good, and jason simultaneously feels as if he's undeserving of it all and as if he's on top of the world. his stomach is wrought with emotions, and a complaint is just rising up at the back of his throat, but as if you know - and he wouldn’t be too far off in guessing that you do - you swallow it all down with another kiss. he feels overcome enough like this, like he's a too-full glass of water, just seconds away from spilling over. but then you slide off of his lap and onto the floor, making home just between his legs, and everything halts.

“very humble,” you hum. your fingers slip below his waistband, rolling the elastic of his sweatpants down, and he helps you take the rest off. you leave feather-light kisses on the inside of his thighs, up and down, nipping lightly, a gentleness that squeezes his heart, “always wants to do everything by himself even though he doesn’t need to.”

his cock gives twitches of interest when you press your cheek against his member straining against the fabric of his underwear. your eyes meet his, daringly, boldly. you moan out quietly, “and so good too. to me, especially.”

it’s almost alarming how easy he has turned into liquid putty under your fingertips, a luxury that he allows no one but you to be privy to. awful how much he wants you, wants to feel your warmth around his cock, wants anything and everything that you would offer. he groans quietly, throwing his back slightly when you turn your head slightly, mouthing against his bulge, sweet little purrs of contentment rumbling in your chest as your fingers kneaded his thighs.

“please,” he pleads, unabashedly desperate. the feeling of your warm breathing against him sets off a tightness at the pit of his stomach. he knows there’s only one way he’ll get what he really wants out of this. he reaches out for your face and you waste no time in taking his hand and pressing it to your lips.

“do you deserve it?” he feels the curl of your smile against his palm, “deserve my mouth around your thick cock?”

he melts. god, nothing but trouble, you were. his mouth runs faster than his brain wants to work, “i do, sweetheart. might not feel like it sometimes but i do.”

your fingers slot neatly into his, quiet laughter escaping your lips like the soft rings of wind chimes, “i know, jay, i know. i promise i'll give you what you want. told you i’d take care of you, didn't i?”

you don't break eye-contact - and jason doesn't dare to look away, breath bated - as you tug at his boxers. cold air rushes into his lungs at his sharp intake of breath when his cock slips out and rests flush against your cheek. you're too much sometimes, he thinks, too kind, too giving. indulges jason as much as he indulges you, and it’s way too often. he drinks in how you look right now, flushed and flustered as if this wasn’t your plan all along, the television casting a warm glow over you.

you look at him, dark eyes through dark lashes, and it takes a lot out of him to not just climax from that alone. his hand moves to card softly through your hair when you slip a hand around his cock, your tongue tracing the outline so languidly. you murmur against his skin, wet and sloppy, “you always make me feel good, jay. wanna do the same.”

he has to restrain himself from bucking too hard when the tip of his dick slips into the warmth of your mouth, lips parting so prettily around his cock.

“oh, doll, you do. you make me feel so good,” he groans, fucking your mouth with the thinnest restraint he’s ever practised, “so good to me, take care of me so well.”

#jason todd #red hood #batboys #batfam imagines #batfam headcanons #batfamily #batfamily imagines #batfamily headcanons #jason todd imagines #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanons #red hood imagines #red hood x reader #red hood headcanons #batboys x reader #batboys imagines #batfam

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imsvg · 5 years

Text

firsts

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Pairing: MomoJirou (Momo Yaoyorozu/Kyouka Jirou) Words: 2182 Summary: In which Kyouka and Momo share a late-night conversation, leading to something much...greater. Fantasy AU Links: FF is here! AO3 is here!

even though she might never read this bc she doesn't know i write fanfic, s/o to my beautiful gf who helped me through my first year of college and the countless late-night talks we had that inspired me to write this.

"Do you miss home?"

The question is unexpected. Kyouka turns and sees Momo cuddled in her fur blanket, wrapping it around her as tightly as she can to protect herself from the bitter bite of the winter wind. Her nose is red from the cold, its color slowly spreading to her cheeks. As she exhales, her breath materializes momentarily, before it disappears as quickly as it appeared. Her eyes, those warm, brown eyes, shimmer in the silver moonlight, like pools of honey, as she stares straight up into the night sky, fixated.

Kyouka averts her gaze and stares down at the oversized cloak she wrapped around her body. She buries her chin and mouth in its thick fur, curling herself into a smaller ball, bringing her knees closer up to her chest.

"Yeah," she finally says, "I do."

"…How often?"

Kyouka takes time to think. It's strange how her feelings suddenly dissipate once someone asks about them. "I—mm—it's hard to say, really. Sometimes I miss home a lot, other times I don't—up to the point where I don't even think about it."

She hears a soft hum. Kyouka turns her head again, and finds Momo in that exact position. "Do you miss home?" she asks.

Momo moves. She does what Kyouka did, tucking her chin and mouth in her blanket, bringing her knees up against her chest. The bard can hear the faint clink, clink of the knight's armor.

"I do," Momo begins, "but I find it kind of…stupid."

Kyouka raises an eyebrow in slight surprise and interest. "Why do you think that?"

The bard watches as Momo's eyes become unreadable—Kyouka catches hints of somberness and cynicism, but nothing…concrete.

"Because, you know, I don't come from a far place." She laughs. It sounds…degrading, and it sends shivers down Kyouka's spine. "I only live in the neighboring district. I don't come from across the continent like you, or Izuku. Even Iida and Shouto live farther away compared to me, and they only live in the next towns over. I think, if we were to be honest, I don't think I really have a right to be homesick."

The bard is at a loss for words. She sits there, letting the information simmer inside, digesting it slowly. It feels like forever until she finally says, "I…I don't think it's really about who deserves to feel that way or not. I mean, if someone died one way, and someone else died another, in the end, both of them died. Things like this is—mm—is something I think can't be measured by who does and doesn't deserve something. Y-you know?" She turns her head and sees Momo staring at her blanket. The knight seems far away and distant, clearly lost in thought.

Kyouka's body begins to heat up from anxiety. "U-uh, I don't think what I said made sense but—"

"It did." Momo raises her head and gives Kyouka a soft, warm smile. Tension leaves the bard's body, melting away like ice. "It did, don't worry."

"…Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"What do you miss about home?"

"What do I miss…?" Momo repeats the question, but in a way that sounds pensive rather than asking for clarification. A moment passes and she breaks out into laughter. It sounds so rich, so full of life, so unlike her previous one. This one sounds more like Momo, Kyouka thinks to herself.

"My definition of home isn't…orthodox, I guess you can say. I don't think about the place I live in now. I think about the place I used to live in."

"Did you move estates?"

"No, I didn't. I've been living in the same house ever since I was born. But it was different back then. Mother was alive, Father was always there and smiling. The staff laughed with joy whenever they served us. The hearth was always alive as the sun set, keeping the cold at bay. I would sit in between Mother and Father, sharing in their warmth as we watched the flames dance in front of us. They wouldn't wear their armor. They looked like…regular people. They weren't renowned heroes of Yuuei's army, nor were they folk heroes. No titles, no family name to uphold—we were just…people. Like the ones who walk in the market every day."

The nostalgic smile on Momo's face melts away. Something heavy settles in the air, and Kyouka suddenly feels colder.

"It's not the same as it used to be," Momo says softly, "but I wish it was."

Silence settles between them.

It's suffocating. The bard's throat feels like it tied itself into a knot. She struggles to find air and words, no thought coming to mind. Slowly, she turns away, feeling as if she had asked a question she shouldn't have.

"Sorry," is all she says.

Kyouka hears a sigh. "It's fine," Momo says, "it's not your fault."

"Still, I probably shouldn't have asked in the first place."

A weight rests on Kyouka's shoulder. Strands of wild, black hair tickle the side of her cheek. Something rich and vibrant, like perfume, hits Kyouka's sense of smell, filling up her lungs and chest with something…warm, sweet, like caramelized sugar.

"I think talking about it made me feel a little bit better about it," Momo says, her voice carrying soft vibrations that run down Kyouka's arm.

Subconscious tension leaves the bard's body. She relaxes, and gingerly, places her face on top of Momo's head. They stay like that, wrapped up in their blankets and cloaks, sharing what little warmth they can with one another. They stare at the sky together, in silence, watching the stars wink at them from their place in the heavens. Kyouka recalls the vague shapes she memorized diligently when she was a child, sitting underneath the night sky with her parents as her mother sang songs of myths and legends and her father plucked his lute.

"—ka? —ouka? Kyouka?"

"H-huh? Wh-wha?" She blinks, and notices Momo lifted her head to stare at her quizzically.

"Are you okay?" the knight asks.

"Y-yeah. I was just…lost in my thoughts, sorry."

Momo nods understandingly, the look of concern melting off of her face. "I'm guessing you didn't hear what I said, then," she says with a playful smile.

Kyouka feels her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "N-no. S-sorry."

"It's fine, don't worry." Momo readjusts herself and places her head back on Kyouka's shoulder. "I asked what you missed about home."

"The food," she says without hesitation. "I mean, I know that the food here is, comparatively, way better, but the food from back home has something else that…this place doesn't have for me, yet. And—and I think it's the fact it's missing warmth. N-not like literal warmth; you know, more like the emotional kind. And I think it's because of this lack of warmth that I miss my parents' stories."

"Their…stories? Like, the stories they told during their travels?"

"Yeah. They'd recite epics and poems and songs and myths and legends from memory when I was a kid. They would sing and dance, and I would learn their craft. And while I learned how to play lute, they would recount tales of when they sailed across the sea and traveled throughout the continent in troupes and adventuring groups, performing in streets and pubs. It was all so normal and so mundane compared to the other stories they would tell me, but I always thought their stories were the most fantastical of all."

Momo laughs again, this one soft and delicate like an aria. "They sound like amazing people," she says quietly.

Kyouka feels her face flush. It's not in the usual, embarrassed way, however; this is something full of pride, full of honor. For the first time ever since she came to Yuuei, Kyouka finds herself taking pride in her roots. For once, there is no shame about her lack of training, money, nor luxury. For once, she doesn't feel the need to hide herself, her stories, and her talent.

For once, she actually feels proud to be who she is.

"Yeah," she says with a small smile, "they are."

The weight on Kyouka's shoulder is lifted, and the bard turns to see the knight staring at her. Kyouka takes in the way the moon shines down on Momo, silver moonlight gleaming off of her plate armor, causing those brilliant brown eyes to shimmer like gems. The knight's wild black hair sways in the soft wind, individual strands dancing as she continues to stare at the bard, and Kyouka swears she's looking at a goddess, like the ones her parents would sing of. There's something about Momo that makes her seem…ethereal, other-wordly, as if she was plucked from the heavens and planted gently on this mortal realm.

Kyouka's lungs ache because she forgets how to breathe. She releases the breath she's been holding for so long, exhaling softly, but it hitches in her throat when she feels something cold kissing her warm cheek. She reaches up and grabs onto Momo's hand, wrapping her fingers around the cold knight's.

"And you," Momo begins quietly, "you're just as amazing."

"No," Kyouka says with a breathless laugh, "you are."

Momo returns the same laugh, and it's only then does Kyouka realize how close they are to one another. She can feel the knight's warmth, her scent, her forehead pressing against hers…with every passing moment, they get closer and closer, their noses brushing against one another, lips sharing the same breath—

Kyouka feels her heart beating in her skull, her chest. It's erratic, pumping blood and adrenaline throughout her body, warming her face and ears, coloring her cheeks, pushing her closer and closer and closer and closer—

Their lips touch, and suddenly Kyouka doesn't know how to function. She feels entranced, as if she's under a spell, as if she lost control of everything. Her heart beats faster than ever, rattling inside of her ribcage, its beat reverberating throughout her body. Her lungs forget how to breathe again, but she doesn't care, not when she's kissing—oh gods, she's kissing Momo, she's actually kissing Momo, and her lips are chapped, but so, so soft, and they're moving against hers, and Momo moves her hand to pull her just a little bit closer, and—

They break away. Kyouka sucks in a breath through her nose, the cold air doing nothing to cool her down. Her heart is rampaging in her chest, and she swears she might pass out at any moment, because by the gods she just kissed Momo—

"Are you okay?" Momo asks, her warm breath buffeting Kyouka's lips as she pulls back her hand.

The bard blinks, remembering where she is, before saying, "Y-yeah. I just—wow." She pulls back a little more and runs a hand through her hair, laughing breathlessly. "Wow."

"Is…that a bad 'wow?'"

"N-no! I'm just—wow—I'm just—that's…I've never done something like that before. I'm just kind of—blown away, is all. I-in a good way, of course." Kyouka clears her throat, embarrassed at her blunders. "A-are you okay?"

Momo smiles, and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "More than okay. If I'm being honest I've, mm"—she turns away, her cheeks turning as red as Ejirou's hair—"been wanting to do that for a while."

Kyouka feels her face heating up. "Y-you have?"

"I—I know it's strange I just—couldn't help feeling that way. You just…make me feel safe. I don't know how else to describe it. There's just something about you—I don't know if it's your songs or your voice or just your mere presence—but I just feel so…so safe every time I'm with you. Like nothing could go wrong. Like…like you're home." The knight looks up, almost sheepishly, and quietly asks, "Does that make sense?"

A crooked smile tugs on Kyouka's lips. "It does. Because I feel the same way whenever I'm with you, too."

"Do you?" Momo's eyes widen with surprise.

"I do," is all the bard says before she twines their fingers together.

"…So what now?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do we do now? Are we…you know…."

The suggestion makes the tips of Kyouka's ears burn. "H-honestly, I don't know. But what I do know," she continues, squeezing Momo's hand in hers, "is that I want to stay by your side. And I don't want to lose you."

The knight smiles, then nods. "I want that, too."

Nothing else is said between them after. They continue sitting there, just as they had been throughout the night, but Kyouka notices differences. They're closer together, their hands are locked together, and there is something burning in Kyouka's chest, like an ember, sitting underneath her heart.

The bard doesn't know what love feels like. But as she sits next to the knight, holding her close, Kyouka wonders if this is the beginning of something similar.

The thought makes her smile.

it's been a hot second since i last wrote anything, so i'm really sorry if i'm rusty. i guess you can say that this is a continuation of the first MomoJirou fic I wrote a while back, but I wrote them kind of independently from one another. I remember mentioning a whole fantasy AU I was writing for BNHA, and while my motivation for that has kind of wavered, im on summer break from college now. so maybe i'll be able to put smth up for that? im just not sure what course i want to take for that story. it sux.

but anyways, i hope you enjoyed this oneshot. if you want more of these two in this particular universe, please let me know! i'd love to flesh out the whole fantasy au with just these two to give me some sort of foundation for the bigger project.

thank you for reading! i love you!

#i write #momojirou #jiroumomo #momo yaoyorozu #jirou kyouka #bnha #bnha fanfic #wlw

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dawnpil · 5 years

Text

first draft

summary: you were raised to be careful with your heart around witches, but one pretty word witch is determined to change that. pairing: young k x reader genre: fluff bc honestly what else do i write notes: a continuation to a series i started literally a year and a half ago, oops (stone witch!wonpil)

you know about the day house boys, of course

you’re starting your junior year and they’re the most popular people on campus, after all

hell, you’ve got one of wonpil’s hematite rings for focus

your favorite scarf is one dowoon knitted warmth into the fabric of

you’ve seen brian around the house, but you’ve never gone to him for his magic

out of the witches his magic can do the widest variety of things, which means he charges the steepest price, and you’re just a broke college kid

your friend, who goes to brian every full moon, tries to explain how his prices work

but you’re not having it; you need your voice too much to lose it for three days, and you’re not sure you have anything else he’d want

here’s the thing: word magic evolves constantly, and word witches always need to know what phrases are going in or out of style

so from what you’ve gathered, brian’s price for his magic is to take a customer’s words for varying durations of time

and you can’t have that, not with your three a.m. spot on the campus radio

besides, you don’t really have a need for his magic: you’re never in enough trouble that dowoon’s woven charms don’t work, or wonpil doesn’t have some sort of stone for your problems

you avoid his magic successfully for two and a half years, but you don’t avoid him

he’s in your fundamentals of linguistics course your second semester, soft black hair falling in his face as he takes diligent notes

when you go to pick up dowoon’s charms at the start of fall sophomore year brian’s curled up untangling thread with nimble fingers, and he throws a soft little smile your way

you’re not sure what makes you proceed to drop your wallet and dowoon’s charm four times before you make it back out the door, but your friend is convinced it was brian’s smile and won’t accept any other answer

you shove their arm, tell them that they shouldn’t be projecting their own infatuation onto you

but it happens again near winter break, when you’re selecting a few pieces of onyx and rose quartz for your friends back home

brian’s wandering wonpil’s shop, inspecting the little baskets of crystals, and when you turn to head to wonpil’s register you nearly run into brian

startled, you start to take a step back, eyes wide, but he reaches out to stop you

it’s a good thing he does, or you’d have knocked over the table of crystals, and you really don’t have the money for that

his hands are warm on your shoulders, his dark eyes apologetic, and this close his chest is a whole lot broader than you’d thought from a distance

“sorry,” he says, and his voice is more musical than you’d remembered from linguistics. “i should have been more careful.”

this time you don’t lose your fine motor skills, but you do forget how to speak

he’s just. beautiful, this close up

so you stare at him and try to remember how to form words and after a moment he laughs gently, the sound honey-sweet

“i didn’t even have to cast seen and not heard to enchant you. interesting.”

is he flirting? you think maybe so. your friend thinks definitely so.

that really kind of terrifies you; it’s not that you don’t trust the day house witches, just that you were raised with tales of enchantments and love potions and falsities, and that kind of cautionary bedtime story is hard to forget

so you take to avoiding him as much as possible; you send your friend to get your hematite and carnelian recharged, and even as the warmth charm in dowoon’s scarf starts to fray you refuse to go get a replacement

if you could never set foot in day house again you’d be perfectly content

despite this you still think about him, about the silk in his voice when you go to karaoke night, about the way you always seem to find him in the library hunched over his textbooks at odd hours with coffee cups littering the table, about the way sometimes you daydream about holding his hand on the way to the coffee shop just off campus

you try to ignore these thoughts, try to ignore him, and bury yourself in your work for the rest of sophomore year

but the thing about junior year is that your classes are getting more serious, and as a creative writing major you’re expected to have new work for two different classes almost every week, and it’s draining

your carnelian is losing its charge quicker than ever, because this far into the semester you’re struggling to find creativity this constantly and on top of all your other work

it completely loses charge a day before a ten-page story is due for workshop and you’re stuck with a blinking cursor and a blank page

your roommate looks over when you slam your head onto your desk and understands immediately

“go to brian,” they say. “he’s got a spell for writer’s block, according to momo.”

if you weren’t so tired, so frustrated, so desperate you would never have considered it

but it only takes a few minutes’ persuasion for you to be lacing your boots and shoving your laptop into your bag and heading for the familiar little house

jae’s the one to open the door for you, feathers in his blond hair, and he grins

“please tell me you’re here for younghyun. he won’t shut up about you, not after the open mic last tuesday.”

you consider turning around and leaving—the poem you’d read at the open mic was much more personal than you’re usually comfortable sharing, and to think brian was so focused on it terrifies you a little

but then you think about how close you were to crying out of frustration, about the days of staring at that blank page and ticking cursor, and you nod at jae

“he’s upstairs,” jae says, “third door on the left.”

brian’s playing guitar when you find his room, sitting on his bed plucking at chords with his black hair falling over his face as he bends over the instrument

you freeze, in the doorway: you had no idea the room jae was sending you to was brian’s bedroom, since wonpil has the shop set up downstairs and sungjin works out of the kitchen. this is oddly intimate, and you almost turn tail and run

before you can brian looks up, his fingers stilling, and he smiles, and your resolve melts

he beckons you in to sit at his desk chair, and he sets the guitar aside to look seriously at you. “what are you here for?”

“writer’s block.” you run your hand through your hair with a sigh of frustration, and he smiles sympathetically

“writer’s block like you don’t have any ideas or writer’s block like you don’t know how to start putting them into words?”

there’s no magic in his voice, not yet, but there might as well be, with the enchanting lilt in every syllable. you could listen to his voice forever, you think

“the—um, the second one,” you say, fidgeting under his dark eyes, and again he nods

“my price is your words for a period of time.” it’s your turn to nod. “with this spell it’s usually a day, but i know you’ve got the radio show in a few hours and i wouldn’t want you to not be able to do your job.”

he pauses, considering, and you tug at your sleeves as you try to find a way around having your words taken away

“why...why do you take people’s words? like, what about them is the reason they’re your price, when you could be making money or something?”

“it’s how my magic works,” brian explains. “the more people use a certain phrase, the more power it’s imbued with, so i take people’s words to see if they can give me new spells.”

this fascinates you—your parents had never let you learn about magic, and as a result hearing the littlest bit about it is making you think of questions you never knew you had, and you want to learn everything about this

it’ll be good for stories, anyway, you think, good world-building and maybe an opportunity for new types of characters and stories

and you might have a way out of this, a way to pay brian fairly while keeping your words

“what about languages other than english?”

he pauses at this. “i have a few korean spells i got from my mom, but i hadn't thought about other languages. which one were you thinking?”

you’ve taken spanish courses for a few years, and you speak it with your roommate and their friend, enough to be reasonably conversational, and when you explain this to brian he nods and you spend another five minutes hashing out a schedule for you to come over and teach him

finally the business has been arranged and you set up your laptop at the little table he keeps in his room for this purpose, and he sets a mug of coffee and a bagel next to your things

“odds are you’ll be writing for a while, and the spell makes it hard to take breaks. if you need anything else let me know and i’ll grab it for you.”

his eyes are soft obsidian, and despite your overall hesitation about magic you wonder if there isn’t some sort of enchantment that’s making your heart beat like this

but a second later he sets his hand on your shoulder and murmurs “use your words”

it’s like a dam bursts: suddenly your fingers are flying over the keys, your mind racing sentences ahead faster than your hands can manage, and the story you’ve had rattling around in your head is taking shape on the formerly blank page

when you resurface a few hours later, a completed draft sitting in front of you, brian smiles as you take a bite of the bagel

“got something finished?” you nod, and return the smile

“it’ll need editing, but i got the draft done for workshop, and that’s what’s important.”

a glance at the clock says you barely have enough time to rush to the dorm basement the radio uses as its studio, so you gather up your things and down the last of the coffee and clamp the bagel between your teeth as you tie your boots

you’ve got one foot out the door when he calls your name and you turn, a question in your eyes since there’s bread in your mouth

“call me younghyun,” he says. “younghyun’s for friends.”

is that what you are now? you debate this with yourself for a week; you’ve only gone to him for one spell, though the first of your spanish sessions goes well

he’s got plans for de nada and de tal palo tal astilla freaked you out a little bit when he used it to perfectly replicate the origami rose you got from a girl in one of your workshops last semester

you think if you aren’t friends yet you’d like to be, now that you’re losing your fear of his magic

on the nights you lie awake staring at the fairy lights strung above your bed thinking of obsidian eyes and nimble fingers and lilting words you let yourself admit maybe you want to be more than friends

it takes another two weeks for anything to happen

it’s the last of your spanish sessions, the last of your payment for the spell, the last of your excuses to spend time with brian

he seems nervous the whole time, too distracted to remember en boca cerrada no entran moscas and as a result he has yet to make the silencing charm work

no matter how much you coach him through the syllables slowly, his attention is elsewhere

to be fair, yours is as well: trying to figure out where his mispronunciations are is giving you an excuse to stare at his lips, and regardless of whether he works magic into his words his voice is ridiculously easy to lose yourself in

before you know it the time is over, and you sigh and remind him of the list of phrases you’ve given him so he can strengthen the spells without your help, and he hesitates with his backpack slung over one shoulder but can’t seem to bring himself to say anything

as you study his now-familiar features you give in, and this time you’re the one to stop him halfway out the door

“one more phrase,” you say, and he turns and you square your shoulders

“tú me gustas.” i like you.

he’s like a deer in headlights, eyes wide, but he recovers fairly quickly and crosses back to you

“i thought you weren’t a witch,” he says, a smile playing on his lips

“i’m not,”you say, though your voice barely makes it above a whisper; his hair is flopping into his eyes and all of your restraint is going into keeping your fingers out of the dark curls

“then how can one sentence be so enchanting?”

he grins when this time you’re the one to get flustered, and he reaches out and takes your hand and your words get stuck in your throat

“what kind of word witch am i if i can’t find the words to confess to the person i like?” he says, then shrugs. “since you confessed first, can dinner be my treat?”

the first time younghyun kisses you he meets you just offstage when you finish a reading of one of your short stories in the little student-run coffee shop: your papers are still clutched in the hands you throw around his neck, and there’s a smile on his lips as they press against yours, and the moment weaves an enchantment you know has nothing to do with younghyun’s magic and everything to do with younghyun and the way the two of you fit against each other like a perfectly-crafted metaphor

dating younghyun is coffee shop dates to people-watch and pick out threads of language, is borrowing his hoodies even when it gets too warm for them, is laughter and falling in love with the way he scrunches his nose when he’s acting cute, is resting your head on his shoulder at a poetry reading and pressing kisses to his jaw between poems

dating younghyun is him waiting outside the studio at 3 a.m. with hot chocolate and that assignment you needed to print, is running your fingers through his hair until he relaxes enough to sleep after getting anxious about a test, is teaching each other the languages you speak and rewarding each other with kisses when you remember vocab, is closing his laptop and pulling him to bed when he refuses to stop working, is coffee and ink-stained hands and switching languages mid-sentence

more than anything dating younghyun is like a story, a draft that gets better the more you pour time and effort and love into it, is the magic of surprising turns of phrase, is a collaboration you couldn’t ask for a better co-author for, and you know for a fact this is going to be your magnum opus.

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