#let me tell you this image really threw me off for a bit bc. i always just interpreted it as a skirt but its a tabard???? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adorerdraco · 4 years

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Not My Type (Like You) ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: you should like do a one shot or even another mini series about amortentia/love potions in general. i’d soooo read that

AU SEVENTH YEAR WHERE VOLDY NEVER CAME BACK <3 f**k that mf !

italics are for flashbacks <3 i love them if you couldn’t tell

Warnings: mean!draco, cursing, more mature themes/ideas, little bit of spice towards the end teehee but not too much bc idk how to write smut to save my life

Words: 4.5K

A/N: I saw a tiktok that kinda inspired this and i couldn’t get the idea out of my heaaaad if anyone knows which one im talking ab send it my way so i can show !!!! ALSO I LOVE THIS ONESHOT I LOVE DRACO AND I AM IN MY FEELINGS this might be my new favoriteeeee

Draco Malfoy was insufferable.

The Prince of Slytherin was unbearable for many reasons, things you've been taking notice of since your first year at Hogwarts when you accidentally had the ”pleasure” of interacting with him when he called you stupid in a class for reciting a spell incorrectly. That day, a hostility blossomed. A hostility that ensued nothing but teasing, mocking, and criticizing that would sometimes go too far and you'd both have to be pulled away from each other by your friends’ before either of you said anything excessively harsh that had no return.

You often felt like Malfoy sought you out to bother you and only for that. You could be sitting in the Quad with friends, conversing and laughing like nothing in the world mattered, and a few minutes later you'd be hurling insults towards the blond across the courtyard after he would yell something infuriating to you with that smug smirk on his face and his goons laughing wildly beside him as if he just said the most hilarious thing they've ever heard.

On the days you’d ignore him, not having the patience or the energy to deal with him, he would still somehow find a way to push your buttons. Little things here and there like passing you in the corridors and tugging at the ends of your hair gingerly like a child but enough to tick you off or sending you notes from across the class in the form a small fluttering bird with a lousy drawing of you usually with a message along the lines of, “Y/L/N, hopefully, this note finds itself in the nest of hair you have today xx DM.”

In all honesty, there wasn’t a day you didn’t encounter Draco and it’s been that way for seven long years. Neither of you ever gotten tired of mildly or spitefully bullying each other and neither of you ever dreamed of stopping. He was one of the few constants in your daily life, and you in his. It was like you both lived on annoying the other, and in the midst of all the chaos that you brought to one another; there was a small, teeny, tiny acquaintance - not that either of you would ever admit it. You may have noticed it the time you bet each other ten galleons for who would win in the Triwizard Tournament your fourth year and he bet on Viktor Krum while you on Cedric Diggory. (he’s very much alive i refuse to think otherwise.)

“So you’re telling me, your mother is the reason why you’re not at Durmstrang,” you scoffed. “This whole time I could have been saved four years of headaches.”

“You’re just jealous some of us have more opportunities than others,” he snarks back pompously. “Unlike you, I hardly believe you would be graceful enough to even be considered admission into Beauxbatons.”

You had gone to see the last task of the competition just like the rest of the schools, all packed tightly onto the stands and watching carefully the exit of the maze. Naturally, you had arrived with your own friend groups, but somewhere during the time of sitting there and even being a few rows behind the blond and his minions, the two of you had met in the middle bench after he was trying to prove something wrong to you.

When Cedric appeared back in front of the stands with the glowing Triwizard cup held high over his head in victory and every Hogwarts student loudly celebrating, you had jumped up from your seat and shook wildly an irked Draco beside you. He roughly shrugged your hands off his stiff shoulder, looking up at you with a sneer that you met with a bright beaming smile.

“Pay up, Malfoy!” You held out your hand towards him, opening and closing your fingers to receive the bet money. “I believe it was ten galleons you owe me.”

He begrudgingly reached into his coat pocket and fished out the coins, counting them defeatedly before tossing them into your palm. “What a waste of galleons.”

“Hey, you made the bet,” you reminded him with a still very bright smile. You shoved the money into your pockets, keeping one of the gold coins in between your fingers, and gave him a small hair ruffle that he harshly recoiled from before you turned to jump back up towards the level of stands your friends were originally sitting at.

“Were you really sitting with Malfoy this whole time?” One of your friends questioned when you reached them, a goading smirk on his face.

“Ooooh, she definitely was,” another friend piped up, wiggling her eyebrows. “They’re obsessed with each other.”

“Shut up,” you smack her arm casually, showing the pair the one gold galleon you were holding. “We are not. I was only sitting with him to get my bet money.”

“Sure,” they drawled in unison, sniggering when you threw your head back in annoyance.

You looked down the rows to see the mop of white hair you just sent into disarray. He was slowly descending the stairs of the stands with Crabbe and Goyle following closely behind him. Almost as if he felt your eyes on his back, he turned back to look at you, his cold gray eyes gazing into yours. It was like everything around you went quiet, the only thing in your focus was him and all you could do was stare back. It wasn’t until your friends started stifling laughter and whispering “aww’s” that you snapped out of the short-lived and odd few second trance you were in. He waited for you to do something before he turned back around, and you did - by holding up both hands; the one golden galleon on your left and your middle finger on your right, grinning to yourself when he rolled his eyes throwing you the finger right back before he finally disappeared into the mob of people below.

You were briskly walking down the corridors, books held tightly to your chest with your friend at your side while you made your way to Advanced Potions with Slughorn after Snape finally made his way into the DADA position. It was an easy class, potions being something you had a knack for and it gave you enough leisure to mess with your “favorite” Slytherin who shared it with you.

“Look there goes your boyfriend,” your friend teases, elbowing your upper arm roughly and nodding her head down towards the hall to the tall blond appearing around the corner and entering swiftly into the class.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you hiss. “I’m tired of everyone saying that. I hate him and he hates me, end of story.”

“You know when you say you hate him, it just sounds like the opposite,” she says tauntingly. “Besides, hate is a strong word and very misplaced. Maybe, it’s just years of built-up tension that both of you have been too nervous to do anything about.”

“Tension? Yeah, I want to strangle him,” you laugh to yourself at the thought.

“Not that tension, idiot,” she shakes her head, “I mean sexual tension...clearly.”

You gave her a horrified look mixed between being disgusted and being offended. You held your hand over your mouth and pretended to gag as dramatically as you could. “I am appalled that you would even say that. I would rather be locked in a room with Filch and Peeves and hear them argue and fight all day than to be with Malfoy like that.”

“Come on, think about it,” she encourages, stopping the two of you a little ways away from the classroom. “You guys 'hate' each other?” She finger quotes the hate, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “When you hate someone, you don’t go out of your way to talk to them every day.”

“It’s not like that,” you wave a hand dismissively. “Also, this isn’t a cliche, this is real life. We hate each other, that is all there is to it.”

You picked up the walk again, your friend to following behind you while letting out a deep and exhausted sigh. You couldn’t help but think about what she said, sure, perhaps at one point you thought Draco was attractive with his bright silver hair, his glittering gray eyes, his little button nose that he would crinkle up every other word he spoke in his charming haughty voice, or the way he’d tower over you in the middle of a conversation gone wrong and he’d be talking lowly to you but all you’d be able to focus on was the sweet scent of apples and cologne that radiated off of him.

“No,” you whispered almost silently to yourself, forcing yourself out of your thoughts and shaking your head from side to side as if it was going to get the image out of your head. He was mean, disrespectful, arrogant, and insulted you daily - even if you both laughed about it or gave props for the perfect jabs.

The first thing your eyes landed on when you walked into the dingy Potions classroom was Draco, his focus trained on the ceiling as if he was deep in thought. Just as his eyes were about to flicker down towards you, and sensing that he was about to, you quickly avoided his gaze and concentrated onto Slughorn who was waiting patiently by his desk with a bubbling cauldron for you and your friend to join the crowd in front of him.

“Great! Now that we’re all here,” Slughorn began excitedly, fixing the sleeves of his robes as he grabbed the ladle in the cauldron and began stirring it while continuing his lecture.

You were trying to listen, capturing only the professor’s last sentence as he called on someone who raised their hand. All attention was thrown out the window when you realized Draco was standing near said classmate, a look of annoyance suddenly clouding his features when his pale eyes met yours.

“What?” He mouthed. You ignored him, trying to turn your concentration back onto Slughorn but nothing he was saying made sense, and right as you caught a word you did understand, a shuffling and an abrupt arm knocking into yours threw you right back out of the loop.

“Watch it,” you snap hushedly when you notice who it is. “Why are you over here?”

“I can’t say hello to my number one fan?” He whispers back, snickering slightly when you scoffed quietly.

“Fan? Says the one who shoved his way through the crowd to come over here,” you grumble, crossing your arms.

“I hardly shoved,” he mutters. “I only moved because I couldn’t see Slughorn from where I was standing. Not everything’s about you.”

“Really? Because to me, it seemed like you came over here for my attention.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, a patronizing smile making its way onto his face. The type of typical boy smile where his mouth is half agape with his tongue smoothing over his teeth as he stared off across the room with his fingertips rubbing thoughtfully against his jawline as he thought of what to say. You stood still as he bent down, nearing his mouth towards your ear and whispering hotly, “you wish, darling.”

Slughorn sent everyone to their paired tables, and as everyone began moving and Draco sauntered off away from you, you stood stuck there, shocked with the lingering chills that were sent down your spine from your archnemesis’ comment.

“I told you, you’re into each other,” your friend sang expectantly from behind you, grabbing onto your sleeve and directing the two of you towards your table.

You were working peacefully at your workspace, cutting up, peeling, and crushing the ingredients that your friend was sliding across the surface to you. In the table behind you was where Draco was working annoyingly quiet, tossing the stripped stems of the roses at you that you had to peel, tiny thorns pricking at your ankles through your socks since the bigger thorns had been taken off for the potion. As payback, you would throw back loose extra pearl dust you ground up, giggling tauntingly when he would frown at you for getting the coarse white powder all over his Italian leather shoes and most definitely inside of them as well.

When you, and seemingly the rest of the class, had finally thrown in all the ingredients and the potion promptly finished brewing, beautiful clouds of white and pink smoke began rising from the cauldrons, each one having a lovely scent of first; freshly pressed high-priced linens, then a faint smell of a brand new racing broom out of a box with a freshly polished wood handle that then quickly transformed into a sweet harvest of apples, green specifically, and finally...

“Ugh, gross,” you pinched your nostrils closed, turning your body around and sending a scowl towards Draco’s way. “Malfoy, we get it, your cologne is expensive, now stop spraying it. I was smelling all these wonderful things and you ruined it.”

He arched an eyebrow at you, looking at you as if you were crazy. “Are you mad? I didn’t spray anything, I think you’ve finally lost it.”

“Well you laid it on too heavy this morning then, it reeks in here.”

“You’re one to talk, Y/L/N. Did you bathe yourself in that dreadful perfume you wear just now? And that ghastly lip shiner thing you use,” He sneers, crinkling up his nose. “I can’t even think straight, I might vomit.”

“Lip shiner? It’s called lip balm, you prat,” you retort, crossing your arms angrily. “Either way, I haven’t used or sprayed anything either so-”

“For Merlin’s sake!” Your friend suddenly exasperated loudly from beside you making you briskly whirl around to look at her, a look of pure annoyance etched onto her face. “Are you two really that daft? Honestly? Have you been paying attention to anything other than each other? For instance, the potion we just made?”

This gained the attention of your classmates around you in the surrounding tables, turning their heads slightly but not obviously with small knowing smirks on their faces while they snickered quietly and listened. It was soundless as you reached towards the book in front of your friend, pulling it painstakingly slow towards you in fear of the words that were written on the open page.

“Amortentia,” you muttered glumly as you read the page, pushing it away from you dejectedly as everything began to click.

“The reason you’re both smelling each other is because you’re what the other desires and is attracted to. Wow, what a revelation! As if the whole school didn’t already know.”

You were afraid to turn around. You could feel the cold and hard pair of eyes burning holes onto your back and the immediate amount of whispers and giggles of the people around you. Luckily, Slughorn was busy at the other end of the room, working diligently with another pair of students who managed to mess up their potion.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Draco announces finally.

“What’s so ridiculous about it?” You questioned, your heart falling to the pit of your stomach when you turned again and took notice of the way his lips were curling upwards as if it was the most disgusting thing he could have ever heard.

“Think about it, Y/L/N,” he deadpans. “Why would I ever desire someone like you?”

There had been occasions over the years when you were in this situation. None as drastic and as revealing, but there would be times when friends and others would poke fun and say the exact same thing your friend told you earlier. The usual, “they got the hots for each other!” and you would always brush it off and joke about how you could never, and he’d do the same. It was always amongst laughs and jokes, but as you looked at the Slytherin in front of you - there wasn’t a hint of amusement on his hardened face.

“Piss off, Malfoy,” you seethed, biting down hard on your lip to refrain from lashing out either in tears or in insults, you couldn’t decide. “If I’m so revolting, leave me alone from now on, I mean it.”

“I never said that,” he argues. “You’re just simply not my type.”

For some eerie, awful reason, the words tore into you like a sharpened knife going easily through butter. You were used to his insults, his mocking, his comments about your appearances - but this hurt, and you couldn’t explain why. You thought, for a second, possibly, that maybe your friend was right. Maybe there was a hidden attraction you had for the platinum blond that you buried deep away and one that he had for you. There was no way that was the case now, not at all.

And for the first time in your life, you couldn’t be more sure of a simple little fact.

You hated him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You don’t know how long you spent sitting in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, back against the cold tiled wall with your knees brought up to your chest. Your friends had tried to console you after the public rejection and humiliation, but their words only made you feel worse. You felt silly for being so bothered about being rejected by Malfoy, he wasn’t exactly someone you fancied, to begin with.

After dinner, you went off the grid and found yourself where you’re now sitting. The ghostly girl flew restlessly around you, popping out of her stall now and then to chat but then going back into her abyss of nothing when she learned you were still upset. You noticed it made her a little too pleased, considering the fact it was always her who was miserably wailing about her problems in the bathroom. She tried to hide it and let you talk to her about how you felt, but she gave terrible advice most of the time.

“Well, if it was me, I would have never started fancying someone who was mean to me,” she mumbled. “Like when Paul Wighorn made fun of my hair for a whole year and laughed when I cried. I hated his guts then and I still do now.”

She had a point, but she was also Myrtle. Nothing about the overly dramatic ghost made sense.

“I don’t fancy him, It’s just weird,” you trail off. “I can’t imagine a day without him, even if he is a complete arse. We always joked about how we hated each other, but I didn’t think he actually meant it, I guess.”

“I think you do fancy him, though,” she whispers knowingly in your ear, making you flinch from her cold draft. “Stop denying it, it’ll only keep making you feel worse. Amortentia doesn’t lie, silly. Maybe when you drink it, but before that, all real feelings are there, whether you know it or not.”

You sat quietly, taking in her words before something came crashing down onto you like a wall of bricks.

“I suppose that means he’ll have to stop denying it too,” she adds thoughtfully.

“Myrtle,” you rush to get up, smoothing your hair down profusely and fixing the wrinkles in your clothes. “You’re a genius.”

“I am?” She asks excitedly. “What did I say?”

You waved her off, giving her another thank you before rushing out of the bathroom and into the empty corridors. You were trying to go back to your dorm to sleep, hoping that when tomorrow came you would be bold enough to confront the Slytherin Prince but it was thirty minutes past curfew, something you didn’t notice until you were bustling down the steps in a rush and came face to face with the man of the hour himself doing his Prefect patrolling duties.

“Go to your dorm, Y/L/N,” he sneers. “I’ll take away house points, don’t test me,”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That I’ll take away house points? Watch me. Five-”

“No, you twat,” you groan, swatting his arm with your hand. “I don’t believe that I’m not your type.”

He stayed wordless for a moment, biting the inside of his cheeks and clenching his jaw as he peered down at you from his lanky height. “Why not?”

“Because I didn’t think you were my type until the amortentia made me aware of it,” you answer quietly. “Actually, my friend had a hand in it, but it was mostly the potion.”

Silence, again. Still and deadly. You could hear the large clocks around the school tick and tock, the hundreds of paintings snoring peacefully or chattering quietly. You avoided looking up at the boy in front of you, all of a sudden feeling small under his gaze until you felt cold fingers brush against your cheekbone and then softly through your hair causing you to finally look up into the soft wandering almost blue eyes.

“I didn’t find out with the amortentia,” he muttered almost reluctantly as if it was the most difficult thing he had to reveal. “I’ve known I’ve liked you for a while.”

“How long is a while?” You curiously wonder aloud.

“I’m not telling,” he smirks. “Perhaps you’ll figure it out one day.”

Both hands came up to rest on your cheeks, slightly cold but soft and tender. It sent chills throughout your body as he took a step closer to you and then closer, backing you carefully into the diagonally ascending stone wall that went in the direction of the stairs. Your breathing was getting uneven, you noticed the way you accidentally switched to manually forcing yourself to inhale and exhale normally when he leaned down with his face now being mere centimeters from yours. It was torture, having your eyes closed and feeling the way his nose was brushing against yours, minty breath warm against your lips as he ghosted over them with his. He was so close, you smelt everything that was in the damn potion that got you here. It sent flutters of warmth down your body, trickling down and seeping deeply into every bone in your body as if this is was the remedy its been needing. This is what you’ve been missing.

When you finally felt a soft pair of lips being pressed into yours, it felt almost unreal that you were there. It was awkward the first couple of seconds, both of you wondering how in the world had you gotten yourselves in this position, but after you relaxed and he found his Prince of Slytherin confidence - it was magic. His lips moved languidly against yours, affectionately and full of longing. He kept his hands on your cheeks, still timid to move anywhere else while you kept yours resting lightly on his sides. It scared you a little, how fast and how easily you melted into each other, like if this was something you’ve been doing with him for years rather than torment the other for laughs.

You hated the feeling when he pulled away, a gust of freezing castle air passing through the space between you and cooling your lips and face from his contact. His hands dropped down to his sides and he looked down at you with a small smile, a teeny bit smug, but happy. You wanted to feel the same way, but a question still loomed over your head, overpowering the giddiness you were vividly feeling.

“Why did you lie earlier?” You question softly, directing your gaze to the floor. “In class, I mean.”

He thought about his answer for a second, sighing deeply when he realized he had to uncover more truths about himself to you. You took a mental observation at that, he didn’t like to talk about feelings. “You didn’t say anything. Didn’t even look at me. I thought I’d beat you to it and reject you before you could reject me.”

“What made you think I’d reject you?” You coaxed. “Other than the fact that I made you a sworn enemy at eleven.”

“Exactly that,” he laughed lightly. “You’re unpredictable, Y/N.”

You smiled to yourself at the realization that he finally used your first name. “So are you, Draco.”

“Not really,” he grins. “Like in just a few moments, for example, I’m going to start snogging you.”

You opened your mouth to encourage him but shut it quickly when he closed the space between the two of you again, this time much closer than he was before. He was flush against you, and when you say you could feel everything; you could feel everything. You were almost begging for him to lean down and kiss you again by the time you felt his hands on you again, running delicately around the exposed skin of your hips when your shirt hiked up an inch on accident. He leaned down again, and with the advantage of his lowered height, you let your hands slide up his arms, biceps, and ultimately the nape of his neck where your fingers continued up into his hair. The breathiest gasp escaped his throat as you tugged at the ends gently, smirking to yourself when he closed his eyes in delight at the touch.

His lips came down onto your fast this time and hastily, pressing himself impossibly closer into you. You could feel his grip tighten against your hips, his hold moving upwards onto your waist as he continued to kiss you fervently. His teeth bit down softly on your bottom lip and you wasted no time in parting them slightly for his tongue to meet yours. You tugged at the platinum strands of hair again, feeling triumphant when a low groaning sound emitted from his throat at the sensation as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss further.

You knew you were done for when one of his hands slowly slid up your upper body, stopping first at your collarbones with warm fingertips fluttering over the skin, before he moved it upwards completely and he now had his large hand wrapped comfortably around your neck. You gasped in delight into the kiss, a swarm of butterflies going directly to your lower stomach as he squeezed against the artery in your neck meticulously, the coldness from his Malfoy family crest ring only adding fuel to the fire. He tore his mouth away from yours with his hand still clutched firmly around your throat and you were almost sent into orbit with the look he was giving you. A look filled with desire, adoration, and intensity - his pale gray eyes were much darker, almost a dark blue that resembled the starry night sky on a summer night.

Lips reattached themselves roughly and feverishly against your jawline, peppering long and tender kisses all the way towards your ear and then down towards your collarbones where he was beginning to undo the rest of the top buttons of your school dress shirt. You felt him smile against your hot skin when you’d writhe underneath him, emitting weak whimpers that you couldn’t hold back that he ended up having to clasp a free hand over your mouth as he whispered into your ear to stay quiet.

It didn’t matter that you were in the middle of a poorly lit corridor where anyone could walk past and see the frenzy that was unfolding, nor did it matter to Draco that his Prefect duties were long forgotten. Your friend was right, and everyone else for that matter; it wasn’t hate you felt for the blond at all, it was years and years of a craving and a hidden yearning packed with displaced tension.

And now, you were both exactly where you wanted to be; together.

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ootahime · 3 years

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analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga 😈

this series will probably have more than one part because tumblr only lets me upload ten images per post </3

warning: there are disgustingly long paragraphs in here and delusions

chapter 32

utahime’s first introduction! akutami lets us know right off the bat that she thinks gojo is an idiot (so true).

chapter 32

i love the contrast between miwa and utahime’s reaction to gojo’s appearance.

chapter 33

NAH BC TELL ME WHY HE WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO NOT GET HER ONE LMAOOOO!! when he traveled overseas to meet with yuta, he picked up the tribal protection charms and thought to himself, “let’s get enough for the kyoto students as a gift since i am such a great and caring teacher, after all. mmm, i should skip utahime to make her mad~” this guy puts way too much effort into getting on her nerves. his mind = utahime brainrot

chapter 33

she’s laughing at him here because he’s getting disciplined for being a lil shit. i wonder...what would he say if he saw her laughing at him like that?

chapter 33

this interaction between them is a little strange don’t you think? i feel like over the years he’s learned how to pick up her mood based on the way she’s acting towards him. you’re probably thinking, “well any person can figure out how a person’s feeling based on the way they’re talking or acting.” yes, that’s absolutely true, but it’s kind of different with this. she’s acting normal. utahime has a rather indifferent expression on her face and what she says is spoken in a calm tone, but gojo still asks her if she’s mad at him. it’s likely that he knows her well enough to be able to notice these subtle things. even if she wasn’t actually mad at him, he was being considerate for a split second, then he went and said, “of course. i didn’t do anything wrong and all.” what a guy LOLOL. to me, this implies that maybe he made her genuinely angry in the past to the point where he realized that he went too far, and thus decided to be more careful of her feelings. she has definitely gotten annoyed at him so many times after that so whenever she seems angry, he probably asks himself if he took it too far. i’m curious to see if he can pick up if she’s upset with something that’s not involving him. would he console her? how does gojo satoru console someone?

despite him always annoying her, she’s still courteous and brings him a cup of tea during their talk. she didn’t have to go out of her way to get tea for him but she did. that’s the kind of person utahime is. a kind and caring woman who would never put her students in danger. in the anime they were sitting far away and not facing each other like they’re doing in the manga. she also has her own tea cup. i think that little panel of her placing the cup down on the table and him picking it up to take a sip is a nice little detail. it just proves that her hating him most of the time isn’t actually pure hatred but annoyance because of his shenanigans and teasing.

chapter 33

i touched upon this a little bit in my previous post, but i wish to go more in depth about this panel. first of all, he ends the sentence with her name twice. two times too many, mr. gojo. i like how they can be serious with each other too LOL. i wish we got to see them talk about the traitors because they did figure it out together after all. does it always end in bickering? can they interact with each other like adults all the way through? somehow, i feel like that’s not possible when it comes to these two. furthermore, notice how gojo confides in utahime about his suspicions. from what we know, she is the first person he brought it up to. i mean, i guess he has to start investigating the schools and would need extra assistance to save time, but he could have done it himself if he really wanted to. by deciding to ask for her help we know that he thinks she’s trustworthy, smart, and strong enough to face whatever considerable risks this task may entail.

i didn’t point this out in my other posts but see how he makes a hand sign in the last panel when she throws the cup at him? gojo is manually activating his infinity. why though? about a year after the whole star plasma vessel incident happened, gojo develops the ability to keep his infinity up at all times by using the reversed curse technique to consistently heal himself to prevent exhaustion. this means that it really makes no difference whether he leaves it on or off. there are a few times where we can witness someone actually touching gojo. for example, yuuji giving him a hug. did he turn his infinity off, or was it able to deduce that yuuji was not a threat? the erasers and pencils shoko and geto threw at him during his demonstration of his new ability aren’t dangerous normally, but is it the speed that makes them dangerous? even if it did hit him, it wouldn’t hurt. how does the infinity know when to allow an incoming object to touch gojo? i believe it is up to gojo himself to let things touch him; his infinity restricts anything and anyone. some people say it could just be the fact that water is not dangerous to him, so therefore, he has to manually put his infinity up. i thought this was a reasonable explanation as to why he put up the hand sign when the tea was thrown at him, but then i realized that it couldn’t be. remember the second opening? it’s raining and everyone is carrying an umbrella, then it pans to gojo with a bouquet in his hand and rain drops slipping off his infinity. if he DID manually put his infinity up to prevent getting soaked then that implies that he chose to turn his infinity off. you can argue and say that jujutsu high is a safe place with students so there’s no need to have his infinity there, but do you remember when he stepped on the ants in front of gakuganji and yaga? the ants were perfectly fine after which insinuates that his infinity prevented his shoes from crushing the ants. he most likely had his infinity on during the baseball game even though he was in a safe environment. how does this long tangent relate back to utahime? well, it simply indicates that gojo trusts utahime so much to the point where he can be vulnerable around her. turning off his infinity symbolizes completely letting down his guard in a way.

how about what happens next? utahime throws the tea at him, he turns on his infinity to deflect it, and he responds with, “scary! hysteric women aren’t popular, you know!” why would he even say that LMAO?? utahime doesn’t even try to deny what he said either. she just hits him with the good old, “i am your senpai!” could it be that he’s trying to poke fun of her relationship status? maybe, maybe not. doesn’t he like people a lil crazy? he did say that all jujutsu sorcerers have to be a little crazy because they’re willing to put themselves in danger constantly.

chapter 0 p.1

i wonder who he’s thinking of when he said that. could it be utahime? it seems like he’s reminiscing or thinking about someone. he wears an amused expression on his face as he laughs - almost like he’s seen his fair share of how scary women can get :>>

chapter 34

the pattern behind gojo and utahime is called yagasuri “fletching,” a traditional japanese design. this design is inspired by arrow fletching. it's a lucky charm for weddings and other celebrations since it's based on the Japanese belief that an arrow shot once never comes back. brides were given kimonos with this pattern for good luck during the edo era (1603–1868) to ensure they would not have to return to their original family home. this pattern can have numerous meanings such as steadfastness or determination to achieve a goal, or a wish for the happiness of the bride. there is a belief that a bow and arrow represent the fight against evil. honestly, this meaning fits the narrative of the story. utahime and gojo are unearthing the traitors that are feeding intel to the curse users and cursed spirits. they are in the middle while the kyoto students surround them, which could mean that it’s their job as adults to protect these children from the grasps of evil slowly making itself more prominent. do you also notice that the arrows are pointed toward utahime from gojo? from all the images i’ve seen, the arrows are usually pointed downward. what could this mean? is gojo trying to protect her (in the future (?)) or does he have a big fat crush smh...

i think it’s a good time to mention utahime’s clothing. she’s wearing miko attire. miko are shrine maidens who were once thought to be shamans (you connecting the dots?). in their service to shrines, miko used to perform spirit possession and takusen (in which the possessed person acts as a "medium" (yorimashi) to communicate the divine will or message of that kami (god) or spirit; also included in the category of takusen is "dream revelation" (mukoku), in which a kami appears in a dream to communicate its will). this was back in the old days, of course. to become a miko back then (shaman), one needed to have potential. neurosis, hallucinations, odd behavior, and hysteria (HYSTERIA HELLO???) are some of the signs that a person is being called to shamanism. when a miko is communicating with a kami (god) or spirit by acting as a medium, she is in a trance-like state, and so she must learn techniques to control herself when this happens. chanting and dancing were used to accomplish this, so the girl was taught melodies and intonations that were used in songs, prayers, and magical formulas. all of this could give us insight about utahime’s technique and explains why she’s good at singing :) maybe she can’t control herself when she uses her technique which is why she isn’t shown using it because it should be used for dire situations. i imagine being possessed by a spirit or god must consume a lot of cursed energy. it makes sense that utahime and gakuganji wear traditional clothing. they’re the staff of jujutsu high’s kyoto branch. in chapter 0, kyoto is known as the sacred land of jujutsu. it’s more traditional compared to tokyo. if you want to learn more about miko, you should check out the wikipedia page!

chapter 34

i swear he tries to annoy her every chance he gets. i bet he sets a goal for himself to see how many times utahime lectures him about respecting his seniors every time he’s within the same vicinity as her. at least he called her utahime-sensei!!!

chapter 40

this isn’t even a gojohime moment tbh...i just wanted to share a pic of them sitting next to each other HEHE. why are they sitting next to each other anyway? it’s not like they have assigned seating.

----

that was so long and i apologize for the gargantuan paragraphs you guys had to read through. i’m writing this at 4 in the morning and i’m feeling borderline delirious so i apologize if there are any errors. i’ll edit this when i have time <3

the next part should come shortly.

#gojohime #gouta #gojo x utahime

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whosjunglejim4322 · 4 years

Text

Best friends brother!Johnny

Warnings: voyeurism, jerking off, blonde johnny bc yes this is a fair and just warning, spitting, inexperienced (of age) reader, finger fucking, teary eyed orgasm

You know it's wrong, on so many levels. You should retreat back to the room, should leave him to do whatever it is he's doing. But it's as if he did it on purpose, cracking his door open after hearing your footsteps and rummaging downstairs as you fixed yourself a glass of water.

It had been closed when you passed previously, warm light illuminated underneath the door, from somewhere inside his room.

There's always been a...tension, for lack of better term, between the two of you for about two years now. It's incredibly hard to not seem so obvious around him, with his plush pink lips and tall, lithe frame. He'd purposely make eye contact with you during dinners or movies, just to watch you squirm and look away, cheeks hot.

Its not fair, he carries a tangible aura around him, the type that makes your belly warm and heat spread throughout your inner thighs. Maybe it's a crush, or simply just you, being irrationally attracted to a man who's pretty and definitely has big dick energy.

But still, you can't ignore the voice of reason that echoes in the back of your head as you fight the urge to sneak a peek, having heard soft, but purposeful expletives in a low voice that could only be his.

It's not even necessarily panick that you feel, inching closer and closer on the tips of your toes, your brain filled with vivid, fever inducing images of what he could possible be doing, even if it's already blatantly obvious.

A part of you wants to rationalize, but the other half has not even a hint of doubt that he's doing it on purpose, a cruel punishment of some sort.

Tonight he'd caught you staring a bit too hard, a bit too shamelessly. Your bestfriend and their parents were engrossed in a coversation after dinner, you and Johnny on opposite ends of the long grey couch.

He was wearing a black tee that fit snug around his biceps in an unmissable way, slim grey sweats on his bottom half that allowed his thick thighs, among other things, to be seen clear as day when he sat down.

As always, your gaze gravitated towards him like a magnet, pupils wide as you divulged in raking over his entire figure. From his tousled, and recently dyed golden hair, to his elegant yet sharp profile, and then lower. And lower. You were confident enough that everyone else was too distracted to notice, that he too was engrossed in the conversation being had.

But then you felt it, his eyes, burning holes into you. This time, when you met eachothers stare from where you were sat, something deranged and idiotic inside of you decided that you wouldn't look away this time, that if he wanted to play this game with you as he seemingly had been for the past couple years, that you'd play along too.

Something about it felt oddly safe, like, what? Your bestfriends older brother is going to rat you out and tell everyone that you're staring at him? Not likely.

So, you glanced from his lips and then back to his hooded eyes, something inside of him whirring at the small but obvious notion.

To your surprise, he was the first one to break. You had almost gasped, as if the whole time you'd been in a trance and forgotten where you were, who he really is. He cleared his throat, running his slim fingers through the front of his hair before standing, quickly.

"Feeling tired, gonna go to bed early."

He'd stated, politely yet in a manner that felt all too unusual in comparison to his usually steady, confident tone. No one else seemed to notice, but you definitely did. You felt stupid, staring at his broad back as he trotted to his room.

Once he was at the top of the staircase, you could have sworn he threw you a glance over his shoulder.

He didn't leave the room after that, and now here you are, being severely unhinged and deciding that it's a good idea to listen closely, and eagerly, to the pants coming from behind his door.

Maybe you're letting your fantasies get the best of you. What if he's not even doing that? As unpleasant as it is to think, what if all this time you've just been this hormonal mess around a person who is just existing as the sexy and somewhat flirty man that he is?

Afterall, he is effortless in nearly everything he does, it's not like it's hard for him to capture the attention of others. Maybe he's weirded out, what if it's all just in your hea-

"Fuuuck, Y/N."

Your eyes go wide, heart pounding so loudly you're almost scared he might hear it. You feel like every nerve in your body has been struck with a live wire.

There's no fucking way.

But then he moans again, louder this time, and you find your inhibitions almost completely disappearing as you saunter in the dark to a position where you can peek inside to get a clear look.

Nothing prepares you for the sight, not the thoughts your subconcious conjures up on nights where the need to relieve yourself becomes overwhelming.

He's so pretty, his head thrown back against his headboard, heart shaped lips parted and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You don't even pay attention to what he's doing yet, too focused on the way his adams apple bobs as he swallows, the shape of his jaw.

But it's impossible to ignore the way his bicep is flexing under his minisrations, leading your eyes south to where his large hand is gripping the base of his thick shaft.

Fuckfuckfuck.

He's big, the tip slightly darker than the rest, almost plum in hue. You can't take your eyes off of his long fingers, the way they're wrapped around his dick. You wonder how it would feel if it were you, jerking him off like this, being the source of his guttural groans.

It's just all so filthy, the sounds, the way he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

You feel slick between your thighs, overwhelmed at the sight of his manhood that surpasses any and every expectation that your daydreams have created, deciding to watch his face again and tuck the memory of his lewd expressions into the back of your mind for later use.

But it's as if your heart stops, when you lift your gaze to see that he's already staring right at you, eyes lowly lidded and indescribably dark as he continues to jerk himself off.

It feels surreal, like maybe this is all a dream and you'll wake up soon and greet him in the kitchen during breakfast or something and all of this will just be another reason to be overwhelmingly nervous around him.

But it is real, in fact you're sure of it because that's his voice, clear and resonant calling your name, beckoning you with a lascivious, yet welcoming cadence.

"Come here."

Your feet move on their own accord, brain not yet in sync with your body, still trying to comprehend the fact that this is all really happening.

You know you look nervous, bewildered as you step into his room, a room you've seen and snuck into many times before with your bestfriend to steal vinyls from his collection. Except now, said bestfriends older brother is stroking his dick while you suddenly rethink being so overly confident earlier tonight.

You instinctively close the door, too worried about someone seeing despite the fact that your bestfriends room is on the other side of the house, his parents on the first floor.

You realize as soon as it clicks shut, that you've solidified it; whatever is about to happen. Though you're not as scared as you thought you'd be, more so fascinated and unbearably aroused as you approach him where he's sat on the bed.

He pats the space between his legs, just below his knees as to not make you apprehensive or nervous. You do so, eyes wide with curiosity and exhilaration. You fold your legs underneath yourself, heart hammering from behind your ribcage as you sit.

"You know," He begins lowly, hand still wrapped around his hard cock, stroking slowly, as if he has all the time in the world. As if this whole thing is as casual as eating dinner together. "It's rude to work me up so much and then not even say hello while you're spying on me."

Your cheeks burn, gut twisting with a mixture of arousal and embarassment. You look everywhere but his eyes, knowing they're on you, examining your every expression.

"I-I'm sorry I wasn't trying to spy, I just heard you and-"

He interrupts with an amused chortle, loving every minute of your shy fidgeting.

"And what? Just had to look, huh? I knew you would, always had eyes for me," He states in a manner that has your sex throbbing between your legs. "You were really bold tonight, I mean look how hard you made me baby, could barely stand it."

You can't resist peering up at him through your lashes now, his countenance hungry and full of desire; it almost has you whining, the source of your sexual frustration sitring right in front of you professing that you're the reason his dick is being fisted in his palm.

"I didn't even know that you thought of me like that, to be honest."

He chuckles, head cocking to the side ever so slightly.

"I do, I have for a while now, after I knew for sure that you felt the same way. You think you're so slick, staring at me like that."

His hand quickens in pace and you finally find some courage within yourself, his admittance leaving you slightly breathless but the comfort of his room and the quiet of the house allowing for an appropriate atmosphere.

As appropriate as this could be.

"Johnny, I want to touch you."

It almost comes out as a whisper, you can see him swallow.

"Go ahead baby, you can touch me."

Your fingertips trace the inside of his thighs before you hesitantly grasp his dick in your hands, disbelief clouding your senses at the realization of what's happening, and that it can't be taken back now. Not that you want it to.

You take mental notes of the moment, the softness of his golden skin, the slight stickiness of his precum and the curve of his length. It's so pretty upclose.

His own hand is suddenly wrapping around yours, dwarfing it completely as he shows you the pace he enjoys, the contact causing you to squeeze your thighs together.

"Just like that," He bites down on his plump bottom lip, a flutter of heat suddenly rushing between your legs. "Have you ever done this before?"

He removes his hand but keeps it close to yours, allowing you to work as you shake your head in a silent confession.

"Are you okay with this? Really?"

You both regard eachother with a shared gaze, the softness of his voice giving you more butterflies than you'd like to admit.

"Yes, yes I'm really okay with it."

At this you pick up the pace, twisting your hand in the same manner you saw him demonstrate earlier, taking pride in the groan that leaves his throat. You feel like you're on fire, but in a good way.

"Y-You moaned my name earlier." You state, free hand wandering over the thighs you've dreamt of riding, and over his agile hips. His skin is silky.

He hums in admittance, cock twitching.

"I was thinking about you, about this. I've been cumming to the thought of you more often recently."

Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

Your surprise must be written all over your face, his arm reaching out towards you, smooth knuckles caressing your sweltering cheek.

More often, as in, he's done it before. As in, you haven't been the only one fantisizing. It feels like your head is spinning.

"You're really so clueless, don't even realize how fuckin' horny you make me."

He bucks into your fist, your senses becoming overwhelmed. It's the arousal fogging your brain that finally leads you to speaking more than just a few words per sentence.

"I just wasn't sure, I spend more time than I'd like to admit thinking of all the things I want you to do to me, all the things I want to do to you," Your palm twists over his tip, his mouth slightly agape as he listens with rapt attention.

"Your dick is much prettier in person, you should feel how wet I am right now."

It feels as if you've just run a mile, out of breath. A bead of pearlescent precum cascades down his frenulum.

"Can I?" He asks, the strain in his rough voice evident. You nod eagerly, gasping as he suddenly reaches out and clasps his large hands just under your arms, to pull you onto his lap, sitting you on his thighs.

"Open your hand for me sweetheart."

You do as he asks, worked up beyond belief and even more so as he purses his lips and spits into your palm.

You're gripping him again as he cups your pussy through your leggings, middle finger tracing your slit through the thin material. It's a foreign feeling, having someone else touch you so intimately; you're not prepared for the surge of desire that washes over you.

He senses this in the way your wrist slows, rythym faltering just slightly. You pick it back up as he slips his hand past your waistband, the warmth of his digits against your slick folds all too much to bear.

You let out a soft mewl, and he slips his middle finger inside of your warm, welcoming walls, sucking in air through his teeth as your slick coats the digit.

He begins to thrust into you in time with the pace you stroke his cock, the sticky sounds of your wetness driving him more wild than it does when he's picturing it inside of his head.

The moment is so vivid, for both if you. His fingers are so much longer than your own, skilled and curling inside of you as his middle digit nudges your cervix. The pressure of him rubbing your sweet spot has you barely holding your eyes open.

"Feels good, sweetheart? You like when I finger fuck you?"

You're fully in it now, senses overtaken with a yearning, a need. You're already so gone yet irrevocably present, the depravity in his voice causing a knot of desire to swirl in the pit of your abdomen.

"Y-Yes I love your fingers J-John- oh!"

You hiccup your words as he adds another finger, his eyes glossed over with astonishment at how wet you are, coating his silver rings and soaking his palm.

"You love em' huh?" He uses his free hand to wrap around your throat, gently but firmly, forcing you to look down at him. The knot of his eyebrows and the parting of his lips is enough to have you twitching around him.

You're using your fist to fuck just his tip now, as you've noticed even despite the haze of your arousal how he's more sensitive there. You wonder if he's as close as you are, as he suddenly pulls you down to his parted lips, pressing your mouth to his.

This feeling is different, it's blissful in an agonizing way. Your body is tingling all over, the pleasure reaching a sweltering peak. He pulls back but doesn't move his lips from yours, delivering slow and sloppy pecks as he speaks.

"I want you to fucking cum, show me what you do when you touch your little pussy to the thought of me."

It feels like you might cry, the sob you let out never reaching past your lips as he places his palm over your mouth; fingers fiercely fucking you through your orgasm. You notice he's cumming too when spurts of warmth drip down your fingers.

Still, he's so focused on you, the way you're writhing. Nothing will ever compare to this.

"Shh shh, that's it baby let it go, fucuuuck-" he grits through his teeth, unbearbly handsome face blurry through the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.

Your thighs tremble atop his lap, his cock half hard and still in your hands. He slips his fingers from you and brings them to his mouth, tongue lapping at your release.

It has you twitching, underwear almost soaked through.

He finally removes his palm from your mouth just to kiss you again, sweetly and with a softness that gives you whiplash.

"I think I'm gonna steal you, from now on." He mumbles, after the two of you finally catch your breath. You can feel the corners of his mouth lift as you hum in agreement.

"Guess I'll have to stay the night more often." You reply, nibbling on his plump bottom lip. You can hardly believe any of this really just happened.

He grasps your jaw.

"Only if I can have you again for breakfast."

#johnny seo x reader #johnny seo #johnny suh drabble #johnny suh #johnny suh x reader #johnny suh smut #johnny seo smut #johnny seo drabble #nct 127 smut #nct127 x reader #nct 127 imagine #Johnny suh scenario #johnny seo scenario #nct x reader #nct smut #johnny suh fluff #nct fluff #johnny seo au #johnny suh au

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hangovercurse · 4 years

Text

Stay With You

You get the call after Rook’s accident and go to the hospital to take care of him.

Requests: “ Could you maybe write another Rook story about where you get the call after his accident that he’s in the hospital and just always staying there with him and when his dad shows up he sees you leaning on the bed sleeping holding Rooks hand or something and he knows you’ll take care of him? I just really love Rook “ “ I was wondering if you know what happened to rook and if you could write something cute like taking care of him after being worried at first about him. I had a mental breakdown when we got the news I'm hoping he gets well soon “

JP “Rook” Cappelletty X Reader

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of the accident (violence, broken bones, etc.), angst

A/N: I have been following every update from Rook and his Dad bc I have been so worried. It looks like he’s finally able to go home tonight but I’m still going out of my mind. I tried my best to do what happened justice (without being too depressing) and ended up needing a part 2. I had to reread what happened like 30 times so y’all better enjoy this just for my heartbreak alone.

Word Count: 3409

part ii

You were always scared when you got a phone call from an unknown number when Rook was out for the night. You’d gotten calls from the police station and hospital more than once, so you’d learn to expect trouble when your phone rang.

But this was not what you were expecting.

“Excuse me, is this Y/N Y/L/N, the emergency contact for JP Cappelletty?” A female’s voice rang out through the line. You rolled your eyes.

“This is her, what did he do this time?” You smiled, figuring he’d gotten hurt doing something stupid and just needed stiches.

She cleared her throat, “Mr. Cappelletty has been involved in a serious accident. He’s currently at Southern California Hospital awaiting treatment.”

You felt like your entire body stopped working. Your throat closed up and you started shaking. A normal phone call wouldn’t use the words “serious accident,” they would just say he’d been admitted for “minor treatment.”

“Can I come see him?” You barely got the words out, mind spinning in a million directions. The lady on the end of the phone gave you an affirmation and you thanked her, hanging up quickly and packing a small bag for you and Rook. You threw some of his clothes in, some hygiene supplies for you both, and anything else you could think he’d want. You texted your boss a quick explanation and asked for the next few days off before grabbing your keys, wallet, mask, and Rook’s insurance cards, and heading out the door.

You drove to the hospital, calling Colson on your way, on speaker, of course. “Whaddup?”

“Rook is in the hospital.” You rushed out, still in a bit of a panicked mode.

You could hear his breathing pause before he continued, “it’s probably nothing, you know Rook. He probably just punched a guy or something stupid.”

You had tried to convince yourself of that, but something felt wrong about it. “I know, but the hospital said he was in a serious accident.” You emphasized the word “serious.” “Maybe I’m overreacting but I have this really bad feeling right now.”

Colson’s voice held more worry after your statement, too. “Okay. Just get there and figure out what’s going on and then call me. What hospital is he at?”

“Southern California.”

“That’s like 10 minutes away from me. If it is serious, just call me back and I can be there.” His voice was much calmer than yours, which you were thankful for.”

“Okay.”

“And Y/N,” He paused, “try to stay calm. If it is bad, he’s gonna need you to take care of him.”

You took in a deep breath, trying to slow your heartrate. “Yeah, yeah okay. Thanks.”

“Let me know what’s going on.”

“I will. Thank you, Kells.” You hung up the phone, pulling into the hospital parking garage and turning your car off. You sat in the dark for a few moments, gathering your thoughts, before heading towards the hospital. When you reached the front desk, you gave them Rook’s name and waited as they read your temperature from the touchless thermometer. You had to stop yourself from groaning as she started reading the Covid questionnaire, answering no to every question.

The lady gave you directions to his room, telling you they’ll take your ID once you get up to the fourth floor. Your hands were shaking as you rode the elevator up, and you tried to calm yourself down before you saw your boyfriend. Colson was right, you worrying wouldn’t do anything but make him nervous.

You gave your ID to the security guard on the fourth floor, impatiently waiting for him to print out your visitor’s sticker. Once you had put it on, you walked down the hallway, counting the room numbers to find his. Once you reached the door, you took a deep breath, unsure what you would find beyond it.

You opened it slowly, a sigh of relief when you saw him sitting on the bed, an ice pack pressed against his face. “Babe!” His face lit up when he saw you. He tried to lean forward on his own, but his grimace told you that it hurt him too much.

You smiled, setting the bag in your hands on the floor and adjusting the bed so he didn’t have to lean. “What happened?” You whispered, taking in his state, and pulling down your mask. He had a small bruise under his left eye and there were wires and tubes running up his left arm. His right arm was wrapped in layers of hospital bandage.

He frowned at you, left hand reaching for your hand and motioned you to sit down beside him, so you did, gently. You wanted to hold his hand, but you were worried it would hurt him more, so you settled to rubbing his thigh gently. “I was walking around in the hills, and then these two guys came out of fucking nowhere. They jumped me and my friend and took a bunch of our shit. I punched one of them but the other one ran to his car and said he had a gun.” Your eyes went wide. “He didn’t have a gun, but he did have a car. And he literally came full speed at me and his partner.”

You tried to stay calm, but his recount of the night made you want to wrap him in bubble wrap and keep him in your house forever. “That sounds so scary, love.” You whispered, your free hand reaching out and stroking his right cheek. He leaned his head into your touch, a small smile on his face. “Did anyone see anything? Or does anyone know who they were?”

He shook his head lightly, “the guy in the car got away, but the other dude got hit too. Pretty sure he’s in this hospital. The cops came in and asked about it earlier, but I’d never seen those guys before.”

You nodded, leaning in, and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m very glad you’re okay.” You moved the ice pack from his face, observing the purple mark on his face. You may not know how to take care of broken bones, but you’d been with Rook through more than a few bruises and busted lips. You peppered kisses over the skin lightly, making him smile, which was the best thing you could do at the moment.

“The doctors are supposed to come back in soon. They did some X-Rays earlier to figure out exactly what’s broken, but my hand is definitely fucked up, and my legs.” He raised his right arm, showing you the cuts that ran along it. You frowned. “They said I’ll probably need surgery, which sucks.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Your voice was soft. You reached your hand to move his braids out of his face, something you’d gotten in the habit of doing quite often.

He shrugged, “I’m fine with it, you’re the one who has to take care of me afterwards.” You smiled and shook your head teasingly.

“I do that anyways, loser.” You chuckled, before a thought popped into your head. “Should I call your dad? I told Colson but I didn’t think to call your dad.”

He shook his head lightly, “Once they told me they’d called you I texted him. He said he’d be here in an hour or so.” You nodded, moving to sit in the chair beside the hospital bed so you could be at eye level with your boyfriend instead of leaning down uncomfortably. “What did Kells say?”

You chuckled, “he said you’d probably just gotten in a fight or did something stupid.” Rook pouted dramatically. “I told him we’d let him know what was going on later and he could come to the hospital if you were up for it.”

He smiled at you as you leaned your head onto the bed, near his abdomen, and looked up at him. He reached to rest his hand on top of yours, even though you could tell it hurt him to do so. You sat in silence for a few moments until you heard a small knock on the door. “Come in.” Rook called, and you sat up, putting on your mask and turning to see who was coming in.

A woman in her early 40s walked in, followed by two younger men. “Hello again, Mr. Cappelletty. I’ve got the results from your scans.” She spoke as the other two placed X-Ray films onto a small lightboard in the room. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you had company.” She said as she noticed you.

“Oh, it’s okay Dr. Tambi, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.” He smiled, looking towards you. You smiled kindly at the doctor. “She can stay, right?” He asked, his hand curling around yours lightly, you could feel the motion straining him and you flipped your hand around, holding his in yours lightly. You hoped it would hurt him less.

Dr. Tambi gave a nod and flashed you a smile, “of course.” She turned back to the films, pointing at the first one. “This is your left hand. If you look at this part right here, you can see where your second metacarpal fractured at the bottom near the carpal.” She raised her right hand, pointing to the bottom of her pointer finger near the knuckle. “So, we’re going to need to do a minor surgery to fix that up a little bit.” Rook nodded and you ran your hand up and down his arm gently. “Your right hand got off a bit easier,” she pointed to the next X-Ray. “No surgery, we’re gonna put it in a cast for a little while just in case but it might be off before you even leave the hospital.” You could feel him relax under your touch at that.

“But then your legs,” she pointed to the next images, “are a bit more complicated. I would imagine they took a brunt of the hit, correct?” She asked. He nodded again and you bit your lip, trying not to cringe at the image of your boyfriend being hit by a car. “The lower portion of your right tibia shattered into 3 pieces.” She pointed to the bone fragments in the X-ray, and this time a shiver physically went through your body. “So, we’ll need to do surgery to fix that up, too. And your left ankle has a hairline fracture that won’t need surgery, but you will have to stay off of it for a while.”

You looked at Rook, taking in the clench of his jaw. He was trying to look tough, but you could see through him, you always could. You knew he wouldn’t ask, so you did. “How long will they take to heal?”

He turned towards you, a soft smile on his face. You two worked so well because you balanced him out. Whenever he would almost get into a fight at a bar, you would be the rational one to pull him away. When you got too stressed out or uptight, he knew just how to get you to relax. When he was too nervous to think straight, you were there to ask all the right questions. You took care of each other, and you could read him like an open book.

“The left hand won’t need to stay in a cast for very long if the surgery goes well, but the left leg might be in a boot for 6 to 8 weeks, and the right leg will probably be a little bit longer, closer to 8 to 12 weeks.” Rook took in a deep breath, and the hand on his arm squeezed lightly, subtly telling him that you were there for him, and he would be okay. “Once we get the surgeries out of the way we can talk more about the treatment plan going forward, so try not to worry about it too much.” She smiled.

One of the men stepped forward, “I’m Dr. Stenson, I’ll be the anesthesiologist working with you.” Rook nodded towards the man, who continued to go over what Rook could and couldn’t do before the surgery. “How often do you drink or smoke?” He asked, and you let out a small chuckle.

Rook shoved you lightly, a small smile on his face. “Often.” He said, and you tried not to laugh.

“And what do you smoke?” He asked.

You mumbled under your breath, “what doesn’t he smoke is the better question.” Rook heard you, sending you a glare and you giggled quietly.

“Weed and cigarettes.” He said, trying to hide laughter as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. The man nodded and soon after the doctors left, leaving you and Rook alone again. “You’re so mean to me sometimes.” He pouted.

You laughed, “If it wasn’t so easy to make fun of you, I wouldn’t be so mean.”

“I got hit by a car, you have to be nice to me.” He whined and you rolled your eyes jokingly. “That’s a law.” He stated.

“Oh, is it?” You smiled, leaning forward, and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I guess I can be a little nice to you. For now.”

Rook’s expression turned serious, his eyes gazing into yours. “I’m kind of freaking out right now.” He whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m not gonna be able to play for at least 8 weeks. What if I forget how to? Or what if they get into surgery and find out that it’s worse than they thought and I can never play again?”

You sighed, knowing these thoughts had been festering in him since the accident. You brought your hand up to his face, your thumb rubbing circles into his cheek. “Babe listen to me. You are the best drummer I know; you’ve been drumming for what, your entire life? You’re not gonna forget how to drum from 8 weeks off. And even if they get in there and find out its worse than they thought, which they won’t, we’ll figure it out. Everything is gonna be okay. They’ve seen worse fractures than these, trust me, they know what they’re doing.”

He nodded, letting out air through his nose. “But what if I could never drum again? I dropped out of high school. I’ve literally never done anything else except drum. I wouldn’t have money, I wouldn’t have friends because they would be touring all the time, I would lose everything.”

“You’d have me.” You whispered, “You would have me, and your dad, and all the people who really matter, even if they go on tour.”

“You would stay with me even if I was broke?” He sounded so small, so scared, and yet so amazed that you would even hint at the idea.

You frowned, confusion on your face. “I would stay with you if we were living on the streets and eating out of trash cans. But we wouldn’t be, because I also have a job and you’re going to be able to drum in no time.”

You simultaneously loved and hated this side of Rook. He never showed anyone how insecure he could be, and he was so insecure sometimes. You hated seeing him so sad. But you loved it, because you were one of the only people who did see it, because he trusted you enough to let you.

You guys had been friends for years and started dating 3 years ago after he kissed you, completely sober, in the studio while he thought the other guys were taking a break (they were really spying on you two the whole time). In those three years you’d come to know just about everything about each other. You trusted him with every piece of you, and he trusted you. You’d moved in together 2 years ago, and now everyone seemed to be waiting for a ring.

You didn’t mind waiting, you didn’t need to get married to know that Rook loved you or to know that you were going to spend the rest of your life with him. It was clear in the way you looked at each other that there would never be anyone else for either of you.

“I love you.” He mumbled, bringing a smile to your lips.

“I love you too.” You pressed another slow kiss to his soft lips. He closed his eyes as you did so, relaxing into it. You realized how tired he must be. “Why don’t you take a nap, J?” You whispered, and he mumbled a sound of protest, but you could already see him struggling against his sleepiness. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.” You ran your free hand over his forehead, his braids having fallen into his face again, before adjusting his bed so he was laying down more.

It only took you 15 minutes before you fell asleep, your head resting against his stomach and hand still in his.

A little while later, Johnny rushed in the room, worry on his face until he saw the two of you. He smiled, taking a quick picture that he would definitely be showing on your wedding day. You got a good one, son. He thought to himself, feeling a sense of his pride that JP had finally found someone as good as you who would put up with his shit.

He took the seat on the wall opposite of the hospital bed. You came to consciousness 20 minutes later, finding the older man and smiling. “Hi Mr. Cappelletty.” You whispered, not wanting to wake Rook up.

“Hey, darlin’. How’s he doing?”

You looked up at your boyfriend, a soft smile on your face as you took in his peaceful features. “He’s doing good, a little freaked out, I think, but he’s good.” The man nodded, and you continued. “They’re doing surgery on his hand tomorrow and then on his leg a few days from now.”

“Damn. Did he tell you what happened? All I got was a very vague text.”

You nodded, the smile falling. “I guess these guys jumped him while he was out and one of them got in a car and hit him.” Your breathing got heavy thinking about it and you could see Johnny’s eyes widen.

He took in a deep breath, processing what you told him. “Jesus, I just thought he’d got his ass kicked at some bar.”

“So did Colson.” You let out a short laugh, your heart not in it. Your hand moved up to run over his arm again. “He’s scared he’s not gonna be able to drum again.” You whispered, tears coming to your eyes as you took in Rook’s sleeping state. For the first time since you’d gotten the call you allowed your emotions to hit you fully, thoughts of how much worse it could’ve been and how scared he must’ve felt floating through your mind.

Johnny could hear the slight crack in your voice, and he walked over to where you were sitting, pulling you into his stomach. “He’ll be okay.” He whispered, “I raised a strong kid.”

You nodded, trying to hide your sniffles. “I know, I just- I can’t stop thinking about how much worse it could’ve been. If he-.” You bit your lip, not wanting to voice the thought out loud. “I can’t lose him.” Your voice was weak, and you weren’t even sure that the words came out.

Johnny pulled you closer, “I know, sweetheart. But you have to remember that he’s okay, it wasn’t worse.” You nodded. “You’re allowed to want him to stay inside for the next few months out of fear, that’s natural. You just gotta remember how lucky we are.”

You wiped your eyes gently, smiling up at the father of your soulmate. “Thank you.” You whispered.

He nodded, “He needs to remember how lucky he is to have you. There’re not many people who would stick around with him for 3 years. Not people like you.”

You smiled softly, looking at Rook with fondness in your eyes, “I’m lucky to have him, too.”

Johnny patted your shoulder, going back to where he was sitting. You grabbed a spare pillow from the table next to you and propped it on the bed , slightly on Rook’s lap. You laid your head on it, making sure Rook’s hand was in a comfortable position in your own, and drifted off to sleep.

#Rook #rook cappelletty #Rook Cappelletty imagine #Rook Cappelletty x reader #rook angst #rook fluff

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ashdumpsterpile · 3 years

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Ohmygod YES Susan Pevensie is awesome please talk to me about Susan i want to know everything you have to say

Literally THANK YOU for asking me this bc Susan Pevensie is a character I never get asked about and I have So Many Opinions.

I'm going to start by saying that Susan used to be my least favorite character in the series. This goes for the books and the movies. Some of it was for personal reasons--she reminds me of a couple of annoying ppl I know irl--but it was also bc I watched Prince Caspian which shoehorned her into a relationship with Caspian which I hated.

HOWEVER. I ended up rethinking this position after interacting with Susan fans and realizing that there are so many wonderful things to love about her!

(putting under the cut bc this got long)

Things Ash Loves About Susan Pevensie

Aight I'm not going to do a formal analysis yet on her, but instead rant about some of the unrelated things I adore about Susan Pevensie.

Susan the Archer

Look we all love archery here. I don't have anything more to say.

Okay, I actually do have more to say. I love the fact that Susan is a complete badass with the bow. You get the general impression that she's one of the royals in charge of public relations, traditions, foreign policy, etc. and yet she's the most competent archer in the series. One of the few things I liked about the movies is how they didn't downplay this. They actually let her be a badass and show off her skills.

Also the part where she kicks Trumpkin's ass was awesome.

Susan the Gentle

Susan being the most passive Pevensie was something I definitely underappreciated as a teenager. I think my non-ability to see past "I'm not like other girls" narrative and the combination of Susan being described as the most traditionally feminine woman in the Narnia series is what initially turned me off from her.

HOWEVER, now it's one of my favorite attributes! I love that Susan is a badass and the most beautiful woman in Narnia. She has hair down to her feet, every man and woman in the kingdom want to fuck her, and she's still a fucking badass who will not hesitate to kick your ass.

Susan the Sister

Most of my thoughts of Susan as an older sister mostly stem from my own personal headcanons, but she is an awesome sister to her siblings. She's Peter's voice of reason, Edmund's sass partner, and Lucy's big sister.

Susan the Mom-Friend

She is a literal mother-figure for Corin.

"[...] the most beautiful lady he had ever seen rose from her place and threw her arms round him and kissed him, saying: "Oh Corin, Corin, how could you? And thou and I such close friends ever since thy mother died. [...]"

-The Horse and His Boy, 33-34

Most everything I have to say about this ventures into headcanon territory, but I love the idea of Susan basically adopting Corin after his mom dies. The way she trusts Cor--who she thinks is Corin in this chapter--is really sweet and I wish we could've seen more of that relationship.

Susan the Flawed

Something I notice from the fandom is a lot of people who hate Susan tend to because of her flaws. On the other hand, most Susan stans like to wave away these flaws and blame C.S. Lewis for being misogynistic or Aslan for being a "cruel god" and ignore the fact that she is a deeply flawed person.

Susan gets something of a "reverse redemption arc" in The Chronicles of Narnia. This makes her not only a fascinating foil to Edmund--as both are analytical, logical people--but an interesting character by herself.

She starts out in TWW as very skeptical of Narnia and it's whole deal and also very condescending to Lucy throughout. She ultimately does admit that Lucy was right and does get on board with the whole prophecy at the same time Peter does, and ends the book being crowned "the Gentle Queen."

In The Horse and His Boy, she has a very interesting dynamic with Edmund and in even more interesting relationship with Rabadash. They don't even interact on-page with each other, but it's highly implied that she was interested in him when he was a guest in Narnia. His behavior obviously changed when she visited him in Tashbaan, but you have to wonder what their dynamic was like before for her to travel all the way to his home when relations between the countries were strained at best.

Prince Caspian is where the cracks start showing through. Susan has lived an entire life as an adult in Narnia, gets thrown back to England with her siblings, and is yet again in Narnia as a child. This book is what really emphasizes her one fatal flaw: convenience.

(Put a pin in that thought, I'll get back to it.)

Susan denies once again that Lucy saw something that the rest of them can't seen. She continues this narrative until every other sibling finally acknowledges Lucy in the right and only then does she apologize.

The last mention of Susan is in The Last Battle, where all of her flaws rise up against her in the worst way possible. I have a lot of controversial opinions on this that I'm going to address later, but I just want to say that Susan's reverse-redemption arc is something I actually like about her.

(There is also evidence that Susan does get a full redemption arc, just as Edmund and Eustace did, but C.S. Lewis was pretty much done with The Chronicles of Narnia at the point and instead encouraged fans to write their own version of how that went down.)

Okay, back to convenience being Susan's fatal flaw. So the one thing that comes up time and time again in the series is that Susan is very focused on material comforts. I believe it's implied that she's vain, and it's canonical that her own personal comfort spurs her to make decisions.

"[...] I really believed it was him — he, I mean — yesterday. When he warned us not to go down to the fir wood. And I really believed it was him tonight, when you woke us up. I mean, deep down inside. Or I could have, if I'd let myself. But I just wanted to get out of the woods and — and — oh, I don't know [...]"

Prince Caspian, 81

Prince Caspian has the strongest examples of Susan doing this, but certainly there's evidence elsewhere. There are a lot of fans who are distressed by this, claiming that Aslan and the others are too hard on her and shouldn't judge.

Honestly, I like that she's written with this flaw. Not only is it very relatable--(my own personal comfort and convenience is something I highly prioritize too)--but it humanizes a character who otherwise is ridiculously op and basically the Helen of Troy of the series. It may sound like I'm using this as an excuse to rant, but I really wouldn't have her any other way.

Susan As Portrayed by Anna Popplewell

Movie!Susan is a fucking delight.

She's sarcastic and badass and awesome and I could spend hours heaping praise on Anna's acting and her portrayal of Susan, but I can already tell that this post is going to be long so, I'll just stop here.

(10/10 want to be stabbed by her tho.)

Personal Headcanons

Let's talk about my fanon thoughts. I have many.

Susan is Aro

There's canonical evidence for this! Susan is a character who is heavily pursued by suitors everywhere, and even lets herself be courted by many of them, but chooses not to settle down. Even when she gets back to England and is described as only having interest in parties and material things, boys aren't mentioned.

I like to think that in The Horse in His Boy Susan was interested in Rabadash at first because he was a brilliant conversationalist. Nothing she says about him implies romantic interest, before and after she realizes the truth of his intentions.

Susan and Edmund Were Best Friends

This might be my love for The Horse and His Boy showing itself, but I think Susan and Edmund were thrown into circumstances where they interacted the most with each other.

Edmund is the ruler in charge of politics. Susan is the ruler in charge of Cair Paravel's public image. I imagine they spent time as ambassadors to other countries and planning royal functions.

They're also the most level-headed and logical out of their siblings, so they probably found a lot in common.

Susan Fancast

I literally just said I loved Anna's potrayal of Susan's (and I love what they gave us of older Susan too in LWW!), but I read the books in 2008 and my parents didn't let me see the movies bc I was like...nine years old and they thought it would be too scary.

So I had to headcanon my own interpretations.

Queen Susan the Gentle:

For some reason Merlin wasn't too scary for me to watch and I fell in love with Katie McGrath in like. Two episodes so. (On an unrelated note, I also fancast Bradley James as Peter at the time.)

Anyway, fanon Susan is basically Morgana Pendragon pre-evil arc. Sassy as hell, hot as fuck, and can kick your ass.

Unpopular Opinions

Yeah, feel free to skip this part if having controversial fandom opinions is a deal breaker for you.

The Problem With Susan Isn't Actually A Problem

I'm about to start so much discourse in the Narnia fandom, but C.S. Lewis's choices with her in The Last Battle weren't misogynistic. Bear in mind, I'm not saying that all of his writing choices in the series were A++ or excusing away certain racist/sexiest bits, but it's honestly baffling to me that people are so up in arms over Susan's exclusion in the final book.

So the part that everyone loses their shit over is as follows:

"My sister Susan," answered Peter shortly and gravely, "is no longer a friend of Narnia."

"Yes," said Eustace, "and whenever you've tried to get her to come and talk about Narnia or do anything about Narnia, she says 'What wonderful memories you have! Fancy your still thinking about all those funny games we used to play when we were children.'"

"Oh Susan!" said Jill, "she's interested in nothing now-a-days except nylons and lipstick and invitations. She always was a jolly sight too keen on being grown-up."

"Grown-up, indeed," said the Lady Polly. "I wish she would grow up. She wasted all her school time wanting to be the age she is now, and she'll waste all the rest of her life trying to stay that age. Her whole idea is to race on to the silliest time of one's life as quick as she can and then stop there as long as she can."

The Last Battle, 83-84

There's a lot to unpack here and I first want to say that everyone's opinion on this part, no matter how different than mine, is valid. I'm going to be quoting some other ppl's opinions on here and by no means am I bashing them. I just want to address my feelings on the matter and the best way to do that is to cite the thoughts of ppl who have opposing ideas.

Here are some arguments on Tumblr I've heard regarding "The Problem of Susan":

"How about we talk about what might have happened if Narnia hadn't deserted Susan? [...] What if we didn't tell Susan she had to go grow up in her own world and then shame and punish her for doing just that? She was told to walk away and she went. She did not try to stay a child all her life, wishing for something she had been told she couldn't have again."

"Narnia is filled with metaphors (often not very subtle ones) that are supposed to teach us how to be, and the most glaring one for any young girl to absorb is that it's okay to be a girl like Lucy, unthreatening and cheerful and valiant and faithful, but to be a girl like Susan gets you punished - in fact, you aren't just punished, you're destroyed."

"why do we call it ‘the problem’ where’s the problem about a young woman dealing with her trauma and choosing her own path, actively making the choice to keep living and to stay and to carve a life out in England when her siblings couldn’t? what is the problem about susan forgetting to somehow cope with what she’s experienced? why is it ‘the problem of susan’ that she recontextualised her faith?"

And then there's JK Rowling who said this:

There comes a point where Susan, who was the older girl, is lost to Narnia because she becomes interested in lipstick. She's become irreligious basically because she found sex. I have a big problem with that.

It's weird how I'm still finding new ways to hate JKR in the year 2021. Again, there is absolutely zero implication that Susan had sex when she came back to England. ZERO. Did she actually read the books? IDK. If someone shares this opinion pls reply with actual canonical evidence.

Back on topic, I'm a firm believer of death of the author and interpreting art via your own experiences. Which is why I'm also going to share my own interpretation by saying y'all are wrong.

Susan Pevensie was not abandoned by Narnia. She was not barred from Narnia because she is traditionally feminine or because she "owned her sexuality" (another opinion I didn't have time to condense down for this post) or because she recontextualized her faith or even because she deserved to be punished.

I also fail to see how Susan recontexualized her faith, as the entire point of it all is that she has none. Bringing this back to Susan's fatal flaw (personal convenience/material comforts), her prioritizing herself over her own faith is the reason she is "no longer a friend of Narnia." Not...whatever fanon y'all are imposing on her character.

Susan is not being punished for liking lipstick and looking pretty. Susan's not even being punished. Y'all read Neil Gaiman's The Problem of Susan and forgot it wasn't canon.

There are many reasons Susan is not in Aslan's Country (one of them being that she's not actually dead yet), but the main one has to do with this:

"[...] But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there.”

Voyage of the Dawn Treader, 215-216

Yeah, okay that's why Susan is no longer a friend of Narnia. The implication when the Pevensies are told that they can no longer enter Narnia is that they are to find Aslan in other places. Susan doesn't do this, instead choosing to focus her life on material things. It isn't the lipstick, it's that she only wants the lipstick.

Susan Had Sex In The Books

Oh and not in the context y'all are thinking. (Again, there are no implications that Susan was barred from Narnia for having sex or that she had sex when she came back to England.)

So there's actual canonical evidence that Susan and Rabadash had a sexual relationship. Sort of.

"What think you? We have been in this city fully three weeks. Have you yet settled in your mind whether you will marry this dark-faced lover of yours, this Prince Rabadash, or no?"

-The Horse and His Boy, 35

Edmund calls Rabadash her lover. Not her suitor. I don't know if the word had a different meaning in 1954, but it feels like C.S. Lewis is saying that they're fucking. I'm not really happy with the idea of Susan sleeping with an abuser, but really proud of her for Getting Some as a woman born in a time period where having premarital sex was a big no-no.

This also invalidates the weird opinion going on that Susan was barred from Narnia because she had sex.

Suspian Is The Worst

I haven't really talked about Movie!Susan much, but as long as we're talking unpopular opinions, it's worth noting that I hate Suspian. Some of it is the "Susan is Aro" headcanon screaming inside of me, but it's also the fact that it's written poorly, does nothing interesting for either character and generally comes across as awkward.

I feel like they were trying to make Prince Caspian sexy and relevant to teens. It came across as super heteronormative and unnecessary.

It also gets really really weird bc the next movie then gives Caspian and Edmund mad chemistry and we're all just like........ok.

Final Thoughts

Susan may not be my favorite character in the series, but she's grown on me over the years. I have many issues with fanon interpretations of her--which definately fueled some of my disdain for her initally--and I don't identify as a Susan Apologist.

I do however adore Susan and have many headcanons for her not mentioned here. I love reading fanfic, writing fanfic and meta, and generally having conversations about her and would love to talk more about it.

I welcome criticism (CONSTRUCTIVE) and conversation on all of my opinions and observations. Please drop into my inbox. <3

#susan pevensie #the chronicles of narnia #the problem of susan #narnia #meta #narnia meta #susan meta #ash does fandom #ash does meta

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alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody · 3 years

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Okay so what about david stating to gain alot of weight quickly and everyones kinda worried but he's actually just really happy and comfortable in his relationship + probably finding out hes kinda into it

(And maybe even patrick not knowing so he gets a bit worried too)

Oh I love this!! (As you may know from following me) wg as a sign of recovery/happiness/comfort is one of my favorite tropes of all time so I would love to see this for David!! either gaining weight when he starts getting comfortable with Patrick once they’ve settled the whole barbecue/olive branch debacle, or I could also see like, David waiting until after the wedding bc he has Very Specific Visions of how things should look and also probably has had pieces of that outfit picked out since his old life and where is he going to find a tailor here he can trust to let out the seams without causing irreparable damage? waiting after the wedding and then deciding that he’s not dieting anymore. after the wedding, he can eat whatever he wants, no matter what it is, no matter how much, no matter how often. he gets to eat specifically because he wants to, no more restricting or holding himself back or switching out to a healthier option. and his metabolism is slowing down, his body is settling a little more as he settles down, and so he does gain a lot of weight quickly but he also isn’t worrying about it the way he used to because he feels secure enough to let his body change without fear that his partner is going to reject him for it.

but of course David has a history of worrying about these things and handling them Uh Pretty Badly, so when he starts plumping up, everyone starts swooping in to check on him. Johnny and Moira trying to ask after his mental health in their own awkward, less-than-helpful ways (”so, son ... you know, sometimes ... when someone isn’t talking about something that’s bothering them ... it comes out in, ah, you know ... other ways, like maybe, ah, a lot of cheeseburgers at the cafe -- I mean, at a cafe -- and, you know, it might help that person to, ah, talk about it!” / “DaViD, I do hope your emotional entanglements are not imposing a hamper on your wellBeInG, lest we reprise your cognitive doldrums of two! thousand! and! fiiiive!”), Alexis fussing over him and offering him a little bit of the high-end moisturizer she treats herself to because it’s infused with sweet orange oil and it’s, like, so good at lifting your spirits, David, like, you will feel like a whole new person with just, like, the teeniest smidge, and suggesting little trips and excursions because she thinks something is wrong and wants to perk him up, despite David not actually ... seeming down. but in the past his weight gains have always been accompanied by a lot of shame and guilt and heartbreak and he guesses he sort of quietly did all the unlearning about that and it didn’t occur to anyone else to do so, because they’re all hovering over him and making kind little offers and trying to help him when he does not need it, thank you very much!!

(cue Stevie in the background having a pleasant but more-than-vaguely threatening conversation with Patrick because if she finds out that, say, he hid something else from David, or he’s upsetting David in some way, well, is Patrick aware that there are bodies buried on the motel grounds that no one has ever found? no? interesting ... ! but Patrick’s a little worried too, because he’s heard David talk about his body in the past and his language isn’t always ... the kindest? so he’s sort of treating David with kid gloves, trying not to patronize him but also not to cause some kind of body-image meltdown. he very carefully doesn’t say anything about food or David’s steadily climbing weight or his snug clothes, but he tries to go heavy on the casual touches and affection so David can at least be secure that Patrick is here for him for whatever’s going on.)

finally Alexis says something while she and David are out browsing at some very sad little indie mall, like, seventeen towns over and the way she says it, it could be about his perceived mental anguish or his weight, and he kind of snaps back at her and tells her he’s very happy with his body, and he’s very happy period, thanks so much, squinty unamused smile, and she just looks him up and down and goes, “well, duh, David, it’s not like getting fat is a bad thing, it’s just historically been a bad thing for you,” and tosses her hair and pushes a sweater into his hands before flouncing away like this is fully how she intended this conversation to go. the sweater is a 3x and not completely awful and David doesn’t even own anything in a 3x yet but somehow she intuited that it would fit perfectly? (in the car on the way home he has Sarah McLachlan on and Alexis hasn’t said a word to complain about it yet, which means something is up, and finally she runs her fingers through the ends of her hair and goes, like there was no break in their conversation at all, “okay but like, I think we all just thought it was, like, the birthday clown thing all over again, and you were just going to go radio silent for like six months and we would all be, like, highkey worried about you even if we only seemed lowkey worried about you or, like, not worried about you at all, and then you’d come out, like, four sizes bigger and be super mean to yourself for like another six months before you lost it all, and, like, none of us want to see that happen again, David. not because of the weight. because we care about you and we don’t want you to go through that again.” she sits back hard in her seat and punches the stereo dial. “also because you’re listening to Sarah what’s-her-name with all those sad puppy commercials and, like, that does not suggest a healthy mental state, David, ugh.” David lets that sink in for a few minutes. He smiles to himself. He lets Alexis change the music.

and when he and Patrick finally talk about it, David tells him that he really doesn’t need to worry, maybe gives him the rundown on the behaviors he actually SHOULD worry about if David ever starts exhibiting (which he can fact-check with Alexis, who’s apparently been keeping the score way more than David has given her credit for). he tells Patrick that it actually feels very freeing, letting himself get bigger and not policing what he eats anymore, and he’s never really been in a situation before where he felt secure and safe enough to be comfortable exploring that, and obviously he would love if Patrick wanted to sort of ... get involved, so to speak?? and even if it isn’t Patrick’s kink the way it’s David’s, Patrick is VERY down to love on David’s body and learn to appreciate it in the Extremely Specific ways David wants it appreciated. he can’t imagine a situation where more David would ever be a bad thing, so it’s super, super exciting to learn that not only does David agree, but plans to make sure that there’s going to be a lot more of him going forward now that they’re both on the same page.

(ALSO i’m really into the idea of David having been heavy before, but by circumstance rather than decision, and now taking this opportunity to explore being fat deliberately instead!! I threw some words together about it a while back and I’m gonna put them under a cut bc it does mention unwanted wg from meds and I’m not sure if that’s a trigger for anyone!)

Trim is relative, of course. He’s gained a whopping thirty-eight pounds since moving here a few years ago, and — it’s fine, he’s made his peace with it, he just likes things to be intentional, his body included. He’d mind those thirty-eight pounds much less if he had gained them by indulging himself, by enjoying treats he had chosen specifically for pleasure, rather than by stress-eating in his motel room.

He’s been heavy before — in his early twenties, he’d tried an antidepressant that hollowed out his appetite and added sixty pounds to his frame. He hadn’t stayed on it long, because it made him sick when he drank and he wasn’t in a place to give up drinking then, or even to cut back, but the weight had lingered for a good six months before he'd managed to shave it off with party drugs and an absolutely punishing workout regimen. It’s intentional, he told people when they asked about the weight, because they did ask and it always disarmed them. And although it wasn’t true, he’d let himself think sometimes about the possibility. He kind of liked being heavy. He kind of liked taking up space. He kind of liked jiggling. It made him feel like some sort of prince, indulgent and luxurious, the picture of wealth, and he thought that maybe he could have more-than-liked it, if it had just been something he’d chosen.

#posting this at 2am .... intensely chaotic #stay tuned for more Content later today 👀#david rose #chubby david #schitt's creek #david x patrick

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blushinggray · 4 years

Text

thinking about kirishima eijirou

nsfw

he talked about being manly this and chivalry that and carrying himself with honor no matter what and sometimes you’d almost get sick of it bc he just never showed you that manliness when you really wanted to see it.

while he was indisputably the sweetest lover you’ve ever had and he never failed to make sure you were taken care of with the gentlest of hands and showered with the softest kisses, sometimes you just wanted that rough fighting style that came with his quirk to slip into your body.

you weren’t going to die if he grasped your hips a little tighter with those enormous hands, or if he bit you little harder with those sharklike teeth, or if he threw you around with a little less care. honestly, you might just live a bit longer if you got the satisfying (mis)treatment that you wanted.

“c’mon ei, aren’t you just dying to rough me up a bit?” you ask one evening when you know he has the next day off. you dressed yourself up with a dizzying meticulousness, letting not a hair, wrinkle, or patch of skin look out of place. the way you were done up sent a message, that everything was adjusted to perfection -- maybe unnaturally so. and indirectly, it was an invitation for ruin.

kirishima sucks in a sharp breath as he bites into his bottom lip, taking several very intentional seconds to burn this perfected image of you in his eyes. after all, he won’t be seeing it again for the rest of the evening.

he stalls for a few more seconds but pulling open his button up shirt and peeling it off of his defined, muscular torso. his eyes never leave you for a second, even as he works his belt and pants off. “you’re making it real hard for me to hold back, beautiful.”

you smile, closing the space between you. his eyes dart quickly to admire your chest in your dress before meeting your eyes again. it makes you smile even wider, “well, that’s just the point now, isn’t it?”

time passes by too slowly for the nature of your end goal. you tease him relentlessly with your prettily coated lips, taking care not to leave stains anywhere, which makes him groan in frustration. he grows tired of your measured pace and grabs you by the meticulously styled hair to hold you still while he rams his hips into your mouth.

the makeup that had painted your face in sharp lines and subtle shades of colors is finally smeared messily across your face. the hair that you had spent almost an hour styling to perfection sticks up and out in a bush of a mess. and tears run down in black streaks to give you an entirely new look.

but when you ask him if it’s enough, he answers by ripping your dress apart by the seams, leaving it to lie on the ground in shredded parts. he grunts a very distracted apology, telling you that he’ll have it replaced, but you could care less. there are more pressing matters to attend to -- namely the heat between your legs.

he shows you his chivalrous spirit by picking you up without so much as a grunt, but throws you like a toy onto the primly made bed you share. while he usually takes the time to prepare you, it seems that he’s far too ready to have you again despite coming in your mouth just minutes earlier.

his rough hands are anything but complacent when they yank you into a position of his liking, with your face in your pillow and your ass arched up high. the panties of your precious matching set are ripped apart like paper, and he doesn’t even wait to toss them aside before he slips inside of you with a long groan.

“god, you’re already this wet. you really want this, don’t you?” he pants, throbbing inside your thoroughly soaked walls. it hadn’t hurt a bit despite the abrupt insertion. that’s how eager you were for this.

“don’t hold back, ei.” you breathe, looking back at him with demanding eyes, “not even for a second.”

you knocks the arrogant gaze you have right off of your face with a sharp thrust. his fingers on your hips are splayed wide and digging into your skin. he’s gripping you so hard that you’d think he didn’t have a human body between his hands. you just know blood is going to flood out when he lets go and leave bruises behind in his wake. and your body absolutely shivers in delight at the thought.

“tell me if you need me to slow down.” he says.

“i won’t.” you promise.

those are the last words of sober communication you share for a while, because he’s all hands and hips a moment later. all of his strength from training, fighting, working for years is being whirled into a single point like a vortex, and he aims it like an arrow right into the deepest spot of your pussy countless times. every single time.

all of those gentle caresses and sweet nothings he’d whisper to you are but a memory to this hard, biting, demanding kirishima that just ricochets his hard, throbbing cock into your twitching hole like you’re naught but a toy to him. a tool for him to use. a doll that makes noises when he spanks your ass, or slaps your cheek, or grips you by the neck.

when he tires of seeing just your back, he puts you on your side, fucking into you with your thigh hugged to his hard chest. the cage his fingers form around your thigh is sure to leave even more purple bruises to join the number of hickeys he’s left on your legs already. you cry out into the pillows beneath you and clutch to his thighs, begging for nothing but more.

“you just came a second ago, baby. that wasn’t enough for you?” kirishima pants with a smirk, pounding his hips faster into you, until the sound of your skin slapping buries his own voice.

“no!! need you!!!” you sob, staining the pillow and sheets with your running makeup and drool. “eiji, baby. don’t stop.”

“fucking hungry tonight, huh gorgeous?” he grunts, rubbing at your clit until you come yet again.

your pussy clenches and grips at him like you’re trying to pull him off of his body. you want him to come with you. but he holds steadfast, letting you shake around his shoulder and chest as your orgasm empties your body. and then he throws you aside to stroke himself to complete all over your chest.

“no...! ei... inside...” you whine at such a wasteful sight.

“oh you wanted me to come right inside of you, didn’t you, babe?” he smirks again, still stroking his dick at his erection dies down. “what are you gonna do to earn it?”

you ride him like a championed veteran, begging into the ceiling as his unforgiving hands return to your sore hips. you just know they’re going to be a blotchy mess tomorrow, like a painting even. but you love the dark, unrestrained look in his eyes too much to stop him. finally, he’s become unhinged and throwing all of his strength at you like you truly wanted.

this is the man you’ve been waiting for.

this is the kind of chivalry you want to be shown.

this is the state you’d happily die in; filled with a sloppy, dripping flood of white, a mess of screams and purple, painted by kirishima eijirou’s hands and teeth.

#kirishima eijirou x reader #drabble #sorry i just really needed to let off some kiri steam he's just so...#well you get the idea #i have a fic for him in the works but it's all plot and my true nature is just flooding to the surface i needed to do smth about it #no beta #mine #mha

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obsidianfr3sk · 3 years

Text

true colors

@renegadesnet event 10: pride

↪ [ “But everything was temporary. And pain was one of those things. Well, except love. Everything but love was temporary. Or that was what he liked to believe.” ]

Summary: Two years after the supernova, after Tamaya notified them the gearboxes that contained the lights had gotten soaked and that she needed the money to buy more before the next day (June 1st), Simon realized they were not enough for him anymore.

Simon wanted a bigger flag.

No. He wanted two. The biggest pride flags he could find.

AO3

Hello, friends!! I hope you’ve been having an excellent pride month and have been eating a lot rainbow cake and pissing off a lot of conservatives with the mere fact of your wonderful existence:’) As my contribution to this month and the event organized by @renegadesnet, I decided to write a fic focused on my favorite gay dads and their sons (bc I’m me, and you should have seen this coming.)

Before you read, I want to give a trigger warning: at the start of a fic I talk about a homophobic attack, which is not graphic or violent per se (it’s someone in the middle of the night taking away the flag they put outiside the house), and I do discuss about internalized homophobia during some parts of the story. If you read it and are sensitive to this kind of stuff, proceed with caution and take care of yourself <3

Also, this entry is a collaboration with my talented mother @healing-winston-pratt, who is going to be uploading some fanart of this in a near future, so keep an eye on that👀 she’s the best skjhkjds thank you for accepting to collaborate, I feel this is a great bonding activity and I hope we can do this more often✨

I need to update my tag list because a lot of the people who were included are not active as active as they were before/changed their URLs. But I’m going to tag @the-wee-woo-rita @lackadae @all-weather-is-bad @chiyuki-hiro bc you guys are the only ones who are still active users who I had on my previous tag list lol

With that said, I hope you enjoy this fic. I think that despite the angsty parts, it came out really fluffy and domestic, it was fun to write. And to all my queer silbings who are reading this: I am very proud of you.

But I see your true colors shining through.

I see your true colors, and that's why I love you.

So don't be afraid to let them show.

Your true colors,

true colors are beautiful like a rainbow

Simon couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t know he was gay.

There was a time when he didn’t know he was gay, of course. He was probably too young to even comprehend the meaning behind that word. And there was also a moment in his life when he felt embarrassed about it, and sad, and angry, and really, really scared, and probably thought that no matter how hard he tried, he was never going to be happy living the life he wanted to live.

That the pain was never going to end. That he was going to be miserable for the rest of his existence, and that maybe, there was no point in existing if he was going to stay like that until the day he died.

But everything was temporary. And pain was one of those things.

Well, except love. Everything but love was temporary. Or that was what he liked to believe.

That was the reason why, the first year after the Day of Triumph, he told Hugh they should get a rainbow flag for their house. They went to one of the first stores that opened at the mall (that had just been remodeled after twenty years of being abandoned) and bought one at a not so affordable price. Simon offered himself to install it on one of the fence pillars and had to spend thirty minutes listening to Hugh telling him that maybe he should let him do it, that the ladder Kasumi had lent them was ratty, and that Simon was going to fall.

Fortunately, Simon didn’t. He did almost fall, though, when he was about to pass out from stress because seeing Hugh getting all anxious, made Adrian cry and he started to basically beg him to come down, given that now he was convinced he was going to fall, and hearing his dad saying “Look what you’ve done to the kid, Simon” didn’t help at all to make Adrian (or Simon) feel better.

That night, there was a thunderstorm and Adrian used it as an excuse to sleep on their bed. As soon as he cried himself to sleep, two hours later, after their dads did everything in their power to calm him down, hugging him, giving him kisses, and assuring him his aunt Tamaya wasn’t going to let the storm hurt them, Simon raised his hand to high-five Hugh and tell him that they were amazing parents, just to realize he was already asleep. Simon silently judged him for sleeping so soundly while his son was having a crisis instead of sleeping.

When he woke up (at five in the morning) Adrian was looking out their window, with the Baby Indomitable blanket on his shoulders. The sky was still cloudy, but it wasn’t raining anymore.

“Darling, what are you doing?,” Simon told him. “Today’s Sunday. Let your daddy and I get some more sleep—”

“The storm took our flag,” Adrian blurred out.

Hugh was already awake too. “What?”

“You said the storm wasn’t going to hurt us,” Adrian said, turning around to see them, “but the storm took our flag.”

Simon got out of bed, looked through the window...

And, yes, the flag was completely gone.

But for some reason, Simon knew it hadn’t been the storm.

“Why would the storm do something like this?” Adrian asked.

Simon didn’t know how to answer that. Luckily, Hugh did.

“Because the storm is homophobic, son.”

Adrian laughed out loud and then asked his dads if they could have pancakes for breakfast. He had already forgotten about the storm and the flag.

They didn’t. Neither of them ever forgot about it.

While Simon and Adrian ate their pancakes, Hugh went to his office because, according to him, he needed to check something. When Adrian finished his breakfast and went back to his dads’ room to watch TV, Simon stayed in the kitchen, doing the dishes, and Hugh finally came downstairs. He was pretty quiet, and Simon thought that it probably was because he had told him to eat the burnt pancakes he didn’t dare to throw away, but after he finished them all, he said:

“I lied.”

Simon threw a glance at him. “When did you lie?”

“When I said the storm was homophobic,” Hugh answered.

“Well, of course, you lied, love. Storms don’t have strong political opinions about gay people.”

Hugh didn’t laugh. “What I mean is— that it wasn’t the storm.”

Every joke Simon’s brain could come up with disappeared at that moment. So he continued doing the dishes, and Hugh, thinking he hadn’t made himself clear, continued talking.

“It was someone else. It was a person. I saw them on—”

“I know,” Simon interrupted him. “I know. I’ve always known.”

But even if Simon knew, he still told Hugh to show him the footage because four eyes were better than two (especially considering that the owner of those first two eyes needed to wear glasses). It was all useless, though; the storm made the image all blurry, and the only thing they could see was someone taking it and running away in the middle of the night.

Simon wanted to think that it was just some dumb teen whose friends had challenged him to do it. But when it came to things like those one never really knew.

On Monday, they had promised Adrian to take him to the park that was a few blocks away so they could teach him how to fly a kite, but the thought of going out made him feel as if something bad was going to happen to them if they did, so Simon told Adrian that he and Hugh were feeling sick and that they would stay in their room to get some rest. Adrian asked them if they minded that he stayed there too because he was in the middle of watching a movie he had never seen before.

“Only if we can watch it with you,” Simon answered.

It was a weird day to be alive. They really just stayed there, watching silly cartoons with their kid and listening to him ranting about the weird proportions those characters had.

During the afternoon, Adrian told them he was hungry, so Simon went downstairs to look for something they could eat. He was thinking that maybe they should order something from that Chinese restaurant Tamaya had taken him the other day, when Hugh entered the kitchen and told him Adrian had asked him if he could bring him water.

Simon felt his hands were trembling while he looked inside his wallet for the paper where he had written the restaurant’s phone number.

“Do you want to get another flag?” Hugh asked him.

And something hurt.

Something hurt inside of him. Something started to cry, and to scream, and to flicker, trying to make him invisible to the world.

And it told him, the same way Adrian had told him he was hungry, that someone had taken him by surprise and made a deep cut on his chest.

But Simon didn’t allow it to come out.

He just said: “No.”

And Hugh answered him: “Me neither.”

He called the Chinese restaurant to order some food, while Simon went to their room with Adrian again and cuddled with him, trying to tend to the wounds of that something that was bleeding out inside of him.

Little Simon was crying, and screaming, and flickering, and needed adult Simon to take care of him.

The next day, they talked about the incident with the rest of the Council during their lunch break. It was one of those few occasions the six of them were together in the same room during their work hours. Tamaya was furious about the flag situation. She ranted for a good five minutes without anyone interrupting her about how fucking horrible people were and that she was going to find that little piece of shit and cut his hands off. Kasumi nodded in approval while drinking some horchata she had bought for herself, probably thinking about how to ask Tamaya to let her join her revolution (something she didn’t need to do, since Tamaya always included Kasumi in everything she did). Evander, on the other hand, was very quiet, something that made him feel a little bit relieved because he was not a sensitive person and Simon didn’t want him to... Evander the situation.

He didn’t say anything insensitive that day, though.

In fact, he said something… helpful, even.

“What about a flag made of light?”

Hugh rubbed his eyes and Simon knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

Because he said that phrase constantly.

“Shut the fuck up, Evander.”

But Evander didn’t shut up. “Dude, think about it. No one would be able to take down a flag made of light.”

And everyone realized that, now, it was not only one of those strange occasions when the six of them got together to have lunch during their work hours; it was also one of those strange occasions when Evander had an idea that was actually good.

So after spending another hour discussing how they were going to make it work, they decided they were going to lit up the building in rainbow-colored lights.

Tamaya and Hugh were the ones in charge of almost all the operation because Evander said he had already given them the idea, so he didn’t need to do anything else (and then got mad at Hugh when he told the media he was the one who came up with it). Kasumi helped them, but was especially insistent about putting a trans pride flag somewhere in the building, and after they agreed with her, she personally hung it on the main entrance of Headquarters.

They started turning the lights on each night of June since that yeat.

Hugh and Simon still didn’t get a flag. Three nights after they told their friends about what had happened during the thunderstorm, Simon was woken up by the sound of someone crashing against the trash cans and almost jumped out of the window with his dagger on hand to slay whoever was trying to break into their house, but when he peeked out to see what was going on, he realized the “robber” was Kasumi, who had put a bunch of small pride flags on some pots they kept on their porch and started crying as soon as she realized Simon was watching her, not because she was upset the surprise she had for them had been ruined, but because now she was covered in trash.

(That week was like a sign Georgie was sending them from the afterlife to tell them they needed to install a better security system.)

Those were the only flags they kept around the house. They were small and discreet, and, most importantly, no one had taken them away. Why? Well— because they listened to Georgie’s sign and installed a better security system. Not because there weren’t any more homophobes out there who were willing to do it.

Until that moment, those flags (the little ones Kasumi had given them in a rather unconventional way and the one made of light that Evander had come up with) had been more than enough for them. But, two years after the supernova, after Tamaya notified them the gearboxes that contained the lights had gotten soaked and that she needed the money to buy more before the next day (June 1st), Simon realized they were not enough for him anymore.

Simon wanted a bigger flag.

No. He wanted two.

The biggest pride flags he could find.

***

That was the reason why, after having pancakes for breakfast (because it had rained during the night), he took the car, took the other three people living in that house with him, and after he was able to read the map, they arrived at a store that, among other things, sold flags like the ones they were looking for.

“I want one too,” Adrian told them when they were at the flag section of the store. “For my room, you know. And I want to get ones for Danna and Nova because I don’t think they have any. They would’ve told me.”

Usually, when Adrian asked for something Simon hadn’t agreed to buy him, like some candy, an action figure, or a pair of sneakers, he would turn around and ask him if he had the money to buy any of those things himself, which would anger him so much he would stop wanting that certain thing.

But that day, he felt like buying them everything they wanted. As if money grew on trees (something he always told his kids didn’t happen.)

“Of course, darling,” he answered, “get them everything you want. It’s pride month.”

“It’s May 31th,” Max said. He was inside the shopping cart Hugh had grabbed the second they entered. It was something he always did, even if they weren’t going to buy a lot of things because, according to him, it felt weird and wrong not to.

“It’s almost pride month,” he corrected himself.

“So can I get something for Nova?” Adrian asked again, just to make sure.

“You can get something for Nova,” Hugh assured him, smiling a little bit.

Adrian quickly turned around and started looking for the flag he wanted while texting Nova about something Simon couldn’t read (not like he was trying to, anyway).

After making sure Adrian stayed on the same aisle as them, they started walking around, gazing at the flags and posters available. Simon felt pretty progressive because he was able to name every single sexuality and gender they were supposed to represent. He imagined Hugh was doing the same thing, but with a lot more difficulty than him. He kept his eyes fixated on each flag longer than Simon did, as if he were trying to remember what they meant, and when he did, he pushed the cart (with Max still inside of it, playing a game on Hugh’s phone because he had forgotten his tablet at home), and the cycle began again.

But suddenly, Simon saw ones that he didn’t recognize.

After three seconds of standing in front of those little flags, someone hit him in the butt with their cart. He turned around immediately, ready to say a really threatening “Hey” to whoever had done it.

Hugh was the only other person who was there. He had been the one who had hit him with the cart.

Suddenly, Simon felt a little bit stupid for thinking someone else had done it.

The two of them maintained eye contact for a couple of seconds until Hugh started looking at his own hands grabbing the cart’s handle.

“Simon.” Before Simon could ask him what happened, he added, with a deep voice: “Move.”

Simon didn’t move. Instead, he hit the cart with his hips, just out of spite. Hugh hit him again with it, making Simon feel the unexpected need to grab the cart with his two hands and use his own weapon against him, but Max was there and they couldn’t act like kids in front of him. So he just hit the cart with his hips again, a little bit harder than the first time, and left it there.

He realized he was just going to be wasting his time asking Hugh if he knew what that flag was supposed to represent.

“Cherub,” he called Max. “Do you recognize this flag?”

Max looked up from the screen. He usually didn’t like it when he called him “cherub” in public, but this time, he didn’t seem mad about it. “Um… no? Ask Adrian—” and continued playing.

Adrian came back with a basket full of pins, and for a second, Simon almost asked him if he really was that naive to believe he was actually going to pay for all of them. But then, he realized that it was only the basket where they kept all of the pins they sold and that Adrian had taken it to show them to them.

“Look, they have so many pins here—” he started taking random pins “—this is the aromantic flag… this is the genderfluid flag—”

“Interesting,” Hugh interrupted him, “but which flag is that one?” and pointed at the one Simon didn’t recognize.

Max took a random pin from the basket and started looking at it with curiosity. Adrian almost didn’t pay attention to it, and after a few seconds, he said: “That one’s yours.”

Simon frowned and took one. It was a handheld flag with green and blue stripes, with a white one in the middle. He touched the polyester with his fingertips as if that was going to give him the ability to communicate with it.

“But we don’t have a flag,” Hugh told Adrian. “I’ve heard of the lesbian fl—”

Adrian took a pin of the lesbian flag. “This one.”

“Yeah— but gay men don’t have one.”

“The rainbow is ours,” Simon said, without taking his eyes away from the blue and green flag he was holding. “Like, it’s for all queer people.”

Hugh directed his attention to Adrian again. “You’re messing with us.”

“I do mess with you a lot,” Adrian admitted, “but this time I’m not because if I do and you get mad, you won’t buy me all the stuff I want to get.”

“Huh.”

Simon knew Adrian and Max were a lot of things, but "dumb" wasn't one of those. And Adrian was especially intelligent when it came to convincing his parents to buy him things.

So he decided to believe him.

“Well, I like it,” he said. Then, he asked Hugh: “Do you like it?”

Hugh grabbed one and observed it for a while. “I like that it has blue on it,” he finally answered, nodding a little bit.

Simon noticed Max was spacing out while playing with the pin he had taken, so he waved the flag on his face, making him laugh and sneeze because the damn thing had a lot of invisible dust Simon didn't notice at first.

“Oh, sh—”

“You know? Maybe we should get two of these,” Hugh said, waving it too, but in his case, not on the face of one of their kids. “For our offices.”

“Matching flags, very romantic.”

Max rubbed his nose. “Why don't you get a big one for the house?”

Simon quickly started to look everywhere on that aisle, and he saw a lot of big versions of the flags he had recognized before (and some of the ones Adrian had mentioned), but there were no gay flags in sight.

“Maybe next year, I guess,” he shrugged. “I don't think they have them here yet.”

He grabbed two of the rainbow flags that were there, inside their respective plastic bags, gave them to Max, and he put them on his lap, still holding that pin. Simon made a quick mental note to remind his future self they needed to pay for that (he didn’t know if it had to with the fact that Max had been spending a lot of time with Maggie, Nova’s sister, but he had developed this weird habit of stealing the most random objects one could think of. Luckily, he limited himself to stealing things from his dads and, one time, from a store.) (Kids went through weird phases when they were Max’s age.)

(Because… it was a phase, right?)

Adrian received a text. “Danna says that she already has a flag, so I’m getting her a pin,” he said after reading it. “And Nova says she wants one too.” Then, his whole face lit up. “And I could get one too so we match.”

“Copycat,” Simon accused him, jokingly. “Your dad and I got matching flags, and now you want to get matching pins with your girlfriend.”

Hugh shook his head, disappointed. “I cannot believe you have betrayed your own family like this.”

They stayed at the store another 30 minutes to buy some other things they needed for the house, and from time to time, when he or Hugh grabbed something, they pretended they didn’t see Adrian and said: “Um, but the copycat may be listening” to a point he told them to stop, and refused to forgive them until they agreed to buy him the flag he didn’t intend to get anymore, but now was going to.

He got the last bisexual flag there was at that store.

***

The first time the four of them were together in their room was last June. Something went wrong with the A/C system of the entire house and the only room where one could stay without having a heatstroke was theirs because their A/C hadn’t broken down for some reason. Adrian and Max were sleeping on the air mattress until Simon (who hadn’t been able to sleep lately) heard that one of them woke up and asked Hugh something. He sat down on the bed, at the same time Hugh moved a little bit to allow Adrian to lay down between the two of them.

Then, in the middle of the dark, his eyes met Max’s.

He looked tiny. Young. Pretty young.

And far away.

Simon couldn’t remember who did it. He didn’t remember who talked that night. It could have been him, even. But he was sure that, at that moment, someone whispered:

“Get in here, kid.”

And Max obeyed. He crawled, raised his arms towards them, and Hugh grabbed him carefully by the collar of his shirt and placed him between him and Adrian.

It was a peaceful night. The bed was big enough for the four of them, and Simon was able to sleep and actually rest for the first time in weeks.

At least until their A/C turned off with a weird sound, and the four of them woke up at the same time, sweaty, uncomfortable, and almost at 11 AM, not because they weren’t necessarily willing to stay there longer, but because the heat was starting to get unbearable and suddenly the bed was too small for three adults and a little kid that was not that little anymore.

“This isn’t a room, this is a— a freaking oven,” Hugh said, while Adrian tried to push him out of bed to get the hell out of there and seek comfort on the air mattress he had abandoned in the middle of the night.

“And we are the... cookies,” Max giggled.

“The turkey,” Simon added.

Max turned around. His whole face was red and his hair was a little bit wet. “The lasagna.”

Simon grabbed him by the cheeks; a discreet way to check if he had a fever. “The cake.”

“The ham.”

“The—”

“Dad. Move.”

Later that day, Simon called someone to fix the A/C, and that was the end of the story.

When they arrived at the house, Adrian wanted to hang his flag as soon as possible, on one of his room’s walls, but Simon insisted that they should iron it first so it looked nicer. Hugh said that he was planning on ironing the ones they had bought for the house and offered Adrian to do the same with his, but when he insinuated that he didn’t trust him enough not to mess up his flag the same way he had messed up his favorite shirt (the one he wanted to wear to take Nova to a nice place during her birthday), Hugh reminded him that the only reason he kept doing that for him was that Adrian didn’t know how to iron yet, and decided that he was going to use that moment as a teaching opportunity. Max made the mistake of laughing at his brother when he thought no one was paying attention to him, but Adrian was and dragged Max into the teaching opportunity with him.

Simon joined too. Just because.

And suddenly, the four of them were in their room again.

With the A/C on, of course.

He didn't know if Hugh had noticed, but he had been so invested in his own explanation, that after he finished ironing the two rainbow flags, he started ironing Adrian’s without realizing it. Adrian, instead of giving up and stop pretending he was paying attention, was looking, kind of mesmerized, how he opened the bag of his blue, purple, and magenta flag, and proceeded to put it on the ironing board, now telling him that when Georgie had tried to teach him how to iron his clothes, she accidentally burnt Evander.

Simon was half-listening to the story, half-listening to the music video that Max was watching on the TV. He was sitting on a big and old ottoman they had bought a long time ago but had never found the perfect place to put it and just stayed there for years until they forgot about it. Max was in front of him, sitting on the floor and resting his back on the ottoman, while he covered his blond hair with small butterfly hair clips he had found at the store and bought just because he thought they were cute (who knows, maybe Nova wanted them for Maggie, or Kasumi could use them for herself, she loved them when she was little).

When all the hair clips were on Max's hair, he took a small mirror they kept in the bathroom (but Simon borrowed it for a minute) and gave it to him so he could see the final result.

“Look at me,” Max exclaimed, laughing. “I look so pretty.”

Simon grabbed one of the hair clips and pulled it a little. “Butterfly hair clips are a popular trend this time of the year.”

“This is definitely going to make me the most popular kid in the playground.”

“Definitely.”

He leaned forward to start taking the butterfly hair clips off Max's hair and was putting them on Max’s open hand when he noticed that he hadn’t let go of the pin they bought him at the store.

(Simon did remember to pay for the thing, but if he hadn’t done it, Max wouldn’t have said anything.)

“That was really nice of you,” Simon said.

Max looked at him, confused. “What?”

“Getting a rainbow pin—” he took his other hand and started putting the hair clips on it so none of them would get lost “—to show support.”

Max didn't say anything and Simon continued with what he was doing. After the music video finished, and another one started playing, Hugh gave Adrian his flag and told him he could go and hang it in his room, and as soon as Max heard that too, he gave Simon the hair clips and followed his brother out of the room, asking him if he could help him with it.

Simon, after realizing the bag where the hair clips came in had been destroyed by Max punching holes in it with the pin, took one of the empty pill bottles he kept in his drawers and put them there.

He closed the pill bottle and realized Hugh had been gazing at him during all this time, slightly leaning on the ironing board. “What?”

“That’s my pill bottle, Si,” he told him.

“Ah—” Simon pressed his lips “—can I have it?”

“No.” Hugh smiled at him. “Yes, you can.”

“So funny. Come here—” and patted the bed mattress.

Hugh, being extremely careful not to touch the flags he just ironed, lied on the bed and sighed.

“Do you want me to play with your hair?” Simon asked him with a soft voice.

He closed his eyes and nodded.

After a while of the two of them just being silent, he said, “Hey… I heard what you told Max, by the way.”

“The butterfly hair clips trend?”

“The pin thing.”

“What about it?”

Hugh opened his eyes, just a little bit. “Just don't tell Max I told you, all right? Because he told me he wouldn't tell anyone else until he was sure, but… I think it's important the two of us know,” he explained.

Simon was starting to feel his palms get a little bit sweaty. “Okay— but just tell me, please.”

He checked overhearing their conversation one last time, and that the kids were still at Adrian's room. “Max told me a couple of days ago that he has been thinking about… what he likes.”

He stopped playing with his hair for a second. But then, he continued.

It was his way of coping with the feeling of his stomach twisting inside of him. “What he likes?” Hugh nodded again. “Huh. And has he— does he has an idea or—”

“No, he doesn't,” Hugh answered. “He just knows that he doesn't like girls. Or that's what he told me.”

Simon raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “That sounds like a lot of things. Not liking girls.”

Hugh scoffed too. “That's what I told him. And that he can take all the time he needs to figure it out. Because he can—”

“Yes. Yes, of course, he can,” Simon assured, with determination. “Life is longer than we think it is.”

They stayed silent again. And Simon couldn’t help but feel relive inside his head the moment he called Max an ally, feeling his stomach twisting even more at every second it passed.

“I feel bad.”

“Why?”

His palms started to sweat again. “Because I called him an ally.”

“It’s all right. You didn’t know.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

“You didn’t know,” Hugh repeated.

But Simon didn’t listen. “Si.”

Then, Hugh grabbed him carefully by the wrist, and, a little bit surprised, Simon tilted his head. Hugh usually didn't interrupt him when he was playing with his hair.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“No, what’s wrong with you?” he deadpanned

Simon knew him well enough to know he wasn’t trying to be rude. It was just his way of asking things. Especially when he was genuinely worried and didn’t think about modulating his tone so it It fitted the situation better.

He sighed. Because he didn’t want to lie to him. “I assumed Max was straight.”

As soon as he said it, he realized how silly it had sounded phrased like that. But he also noticed his voice had broken and he had to put a hand on his mouth so he didn’t start crying.

And Hugh, instead of saying the encouraging phrase he expected him to say…

He smiled.

And for some reason, that made him want to cry even more. “Ew, why are you smiling?” he asked.

Hugh took his time to answer him. “Oh, it’s nothing. I think I'm just… happy.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Hugh smiled more. “I know, love, I know… It's just one of those things…” he tried to find the right words this time. “One of those things I didn't think we were going to go through together,” he kept saying. “Like… we're going to be together when Max finally discovers who he really is. Like we did with Adrian. And like other people did with us. And that makes me happy.”

Simon wanted to tell him to shut up and let him cry and be dramatic as much as he wanted because he considered he deserved it. But he tried to do it, the only thing that could come out of his lips was almost imperceptible “Yeah…” and then, a small tear started running down his face. Hugh quickly noticed this and wiped it away with his finger. Simon scoffed and looked away, rubbing his nose.

“Hey…” and he moved aside so Simon could lay beside him.

The space they had was a little too small but he didn’t mind because now he had an excuse to be closer to him.

And there it was again. Little Simon. Little Simon was there again with them.

Just that this time he wasn’t crying, or screaming, or even flickering. He was just… existing.

And all he wanted to do was to exist.

When Hugh held him that way, sometimes he felt as if it was the first time he did it. Which made Simon (and the sad, angry and scared part of Simon) wonder if there was a sad, angry and scared part of Hugh that also craved that comfort and validation, and if it was the one who hugged that younger version of Simon until they convinced each other that everything was fine.

That there was nothing wrong with neither of them.

Because sometimes it was as if people didn’t remind them that as many times as they needed. So the only option they had was to be there for the other, and tell him that it was okay to hug, to kiss, to touch, and to share until the one who was talking ended up convincing both of them.

Love wasn’t temporary.

And their love was as powerful as they wanted it to be.

Those younger versions of themselves wanted to stay like that forever every single time. But their adult versions knew they couldn’t do it because they had other responsibilities that they needed to attend.

Installing those two pride flags that were next to them, for example.

Their younger versions were excited to do that, but they also asked them if they could rest together a little bit longer. And neither of them had the heart to tell them no.

Hugh started to play with a lock of Simon’s hair. “We’ll be there to catch him.”

He knew he wasn’t talking about either of them. Even if, with his eyes closed, he could see little Hugh and little Simon holding each other’s hands and throwing themselves into the world, a little less sad, and angry, and scared than before, without being sure if there was going to be someone down there to catch them if everything went wrong.

“Together.”

And Simon agreed. “Together.”

***

“He’s going to fall.”

Simon rolled his eyes.

“No, he’s not,” Hugh told Max. “I’m here.”

“But what if—”

“Done,” Simon announced before Max could even finish his sentence. “Now, let’s just hope these things stay there as long as possible, because this ladder makes me anxious. I was trembling while putting the first flag.”

Max clicked his tongue. “It’s a windy day. The wind could have pushed the ladder or something.”

Now it was Hugh’s turn to roll his eyes. “Take my hand.”

Simon went down the ladder without letting go of his hand. Then, while Hugh took it and quickly went inside the garage to put it there, Adrian pricked his little brother up with his own rainbow flag pin, and in response, Max punched him in the stomach with all his might (which wasn’t that much). Adrian laughed and pretended to be hurt, but immediately asked him if he wanted him to help him with his pin.

Simon noticed that Adrian had already put his pin of the bisexual flag on his clothes, and watching him pull Max a little bit closer so he didn’t prink him again (now by accident), while Max gazed at his hands, trying to memorize his movements so he could do the same thing when he wanted to wear that pin again, made his mouth curved into a smile.

When his husband came back from the garage, he thought he was going to tell them to stop blocking the sidewalk and get in the house so they could continue with their day. But instead of doing that, he walked towards them and looked at their waving flags, flying on their mansion for the first time in years.

Adrian grabbed Max by the waist and carried him on his shoulders so he could have a better view. And he realized that there would be a day when they would throw themselves into the world completely alone, without knowing how people were going to act and aware that two of them were brave enough to take whatever blows that they were going to throw at them.

But they weren’t going to do it alone. Because Hugh, Simon, and their hurting parts weren’t going to spend a day without reminding them that they were going to be there, ready to catch them every single time they needed it.

Simon started to look for Hugh’s hand just to realize, Hugh was already looking for his too, and when they found each other, he couldn’t contain himself and stood on his tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. Then, Hugh smiled and kissed him back, this time, on the corner of his lip.

Simon felt proud of what they were.

He was really proud.

And he hoped they were proud too.

#renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #hugh everhart #simon westwood #adrian everhart #max everhart #everhart-westwood family #the warden and the captain are sitting in a tree #obsi's writs #i should get an oscar for the homophobic storm joke

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oikawaplssteponme · 4 years

Text

The Apartment: part 5

▪️for parts 1-4, click here

pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x fem! reader

rating/warnings: swearing, angst (?)

synopsis: You knew that living with your three best friends, Kuroo, Oikawa, and Bokuto, would be a wild ride. It’s never a dull moment with those three. Let’s just hope you can keep your huge crush on Kuroo a secret when he is only a room away.

a/n: hi friends✨i hope you all are doing well:)) just a friendly reminder to eat something today and stay hydrated 💕 as always, my inbox is open for anything and everything so feel free to reach out:) and the taglist for this fic is still open if you’d like to join✨ okay, enjoy xx

•

Five: best friends

“Okay do you have all your bags?” You asked. Bokuto nodded, holding a backpack and small suitcase.

“Yes Y/N.”

“And your phone? And your pillow, because I know you hate hotel ones. And-“

“Y/N calm down you’re going into ’mom mode’,” said Kuroo. You rolled your eyes.

“I just wanna make sure he has a good trip.”

“Akaashi will take care of him, don't worry,” smiled Kuroo.

“Do you not want me to have a good trip?” pouted Oikawa. You put your arm around him and smiled.

“Oikawa, I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t come back.” You joked.

“I fucking hate you,” he growled, pushing you away. You laughed and ruffled his hair.

“I love you both okay, now get out of here, Iwa and Akaashi are probably already outside,” you smiled. The four of you gathered for a group hug. Oikawa was off to his mini getaway with Iwa and Bokuto was joining Akaashi for his writers conference. The apartment would be just you and Kuroo.

“Hey, Y/N,” called Bokuto. He pulled you aside and whispered something in your ear.

“Remember what I told you.”

You sighed, remembering well what Bokuto had told you those days ago. You nodded.

“Farewell my lovely apartment! You two better not burn the place down while I’m gone,” said Oikawa.

“No promises,” smiled Kuroo. He pushed Oikawa out the door as Bokuto followed.

“Bye you two, we love you!” You cheered. Kuroo shut the door behind Oikawa and Bokuto, leaving you alone with him.

“You act like they’re never coming back,” laughed Kuroo.

“Not my fault I’ll miss them. I don’t remember the last time I went more than a week without them,” you explained. Kuroo nodded.

“Wanna grab some food after class?” Asked Kuroo. Your face felt warm.

“Uh yeah that sounds good.” You and Kuroo both had a lecture together today for your marketing course.

“Just give me 10 minutes and we can head to class,” you said. Kuroo nodded. You went inside your room and saw that Oikawa had left something on your bed. You picked it up and it read: “I suggest you use this before it expires”. You turned the card over, and saw that it was a coupon for 10% off a purchase at Party City. You groaned and threw the card away.

“Dickhead,” you mumbled.

“Who, me?” said Kuroo. You jumped.

“Kuroo oh my god you have to stop sneaking up on me like that,” you ordered. Kuroo laughed and sat down on your bed.

“Hurry up I don’t wanna be late.” You sighed and grabbed your jacket and shoes from your closet and slipped them on.

“Fine then let’s go.”

You and Kuroo walked a couple blocks to campus. Your lecture hall wasn’t too far away.

“A 3 hour lecture never gets easier,” you sighed. Kuroo patted your shoulder.

“Come on Y/N, don’t you just love getting all that knowledge thrown at you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Marketing is boring, even a nerd like you could agree,” you joked.

“Okay fair,” smiled Kuroo. The two of you reached the lecture hall and took a seat next to each other.

“Hi Kuroo! Mind if I sit here?” a voice said. You turned to see a girl standing next to Kuroo.

“Oh Calie, hi, yeah sure,” said Kuroo. The girl joyfully sat down next to Kuroo, causing you to clench your fists.

“Uh Calie, this is my friend Y/N, Y/N this is Calie, we have organic chemistry together,” explained Kuroo. The girl flashed you a dazzling smile. Great, she's pretty and smart. You shook her hand firmly.

“Wait aren’t you guys roommates too? That must be so fun living with someone like Kuroo,” giggled Calie. You gave her a sarcastic smile. I already hate this bitch.

“Yeah we’ve been friends forever so I definitely get my fair share of Kuroo.”

“Well you’re probably so sick of him, mind if I borrow him after the lecture?” She asked. Calie wrapped her hand around Kuroo’s bicep. You had to stop yourself from beating the shit out of her.

“Well actually-“ you began.

“Sure that sounds fun. You don’t mind right, Y/N?” said Kuroo. Is he being serious right now?

“So I’m supposed to grab dinner by myself?” You whispered, without thinking. Kuroo’s eyes widened. Calie gasped.

“You can come with us! I’d hate to leave you all alone,” She smiled.

“Yeah come with us,” said Kuroo.

“No no it’s fine, you two have fun. I’d rather be alone anyway,” you muttered. Before Kuroo could reply, your professor had walked in and began his lecture.

Your lecture felt longer than normal. Probably because all you could focus on was Calie’s giggles as she whispered with Kuroo throughout the whole 3 hours. Kuroo was always good with the ladies. His confident nature caused girls to be drawn towards him. Yes, you liked him too but you liked all of him, not just the surface level of Kuroo.

You tried to contain your annoyance with Calie and Kuroo. It was obvious she was flirting with him.

“See you next week,” said your professor as he wrapped up his lecture. You got up from your seat and began packing up your things. You didn’t look at Kuroo and headed right out the door.

You began walking back to your apartment when you heard Kuroo call after you.

“Wait Y/N-chan!” You turned around to face him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to hang with me and Calie? She’s really nice once you get to know her,” he said. You almost rolled your eyes.

“No it’s fine. I promised I’d FaceTime Oikawa now anyway,” you lied. Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

“Well if you say so. I’ll grab dinner with you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah sure. Make sure you have your key to the apartment or else I’m locking you out,” you said. Kuroo laughed and nodded.

“Bye Y/N!” cheered Calie. You gave her a wave and watched as Kuroo ran back towards her.

You walked back to your apartment, upset. Kuroo had every right to hang out with other girls but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It was just another reminder that Kuroo might not share the same feelings as you.

The apartment felt weird being so empty. All dark and quiet. You threw your keys on the counter and plopped onto the couch. You checked your phone and saw a plethora of texts from Oikawa.

i've been in the car FOREVER -sent 5:35pm

my legs are cramping -sent 5:40pm

do you think if i asked Iwa to stop for a bathroom break he would be mad? -sent 5:41pm

bc we just stopped 30 minutes ago and i said i didn’t need to go -sent 5:43pm

but now i do -sent 5:47pm

update: he stopped for me🤩 -sent 6:01pm

y/n answer me -sent 6:37pm

im bored -sent 6:38pm

you better be buying that maid costume -sent 6:40pm

that coupon expires soon -sent 6:41pm

btw bokuto forgot his pillow but he told me not to tell you -sent 6:52pm

oops -sent 6:52pm

wyd -sent 7:03pm

You laughed at your phone. Good to see you weren’t the only one missing your friends.

well im currently sitting alone in the apartment as kuroo ditched me for some girl -sent 7:15pm

HE DID WHAT -sent 7:18pm

maybe im being dramatic but he’s kinda on a date with some girl from his organic chemistry class -sent 7:19pm

i bet she’s ugly -sent 7:19pm

no she’s gorgeous -sent 7:20pm

fuck

well

im gonna beat his ass

how dare he -sent 7:20pm

it’s fine

maybe it’s better im alone rn anyway

gives me time to get over him -sent 7:21pm

come on hun

don’t say that

don’t give up -sent 7:25pm

idk toru

i feel like it’s never gonna happen

especially when he could have someone like her -sent 7:27pm

bokuto said it best: kuroo would be stupid not to like you -sent 7:28pm

i guess he’s stupid then -sent 7:30pm

:(((

okay Iwa and I got to our hotel but I’ll talk to you later okay love? -sent 7:33pm

okay

bye shittykawa -sent 7:34pm

why do you hurt me? -sent 7:35

You set your phone down and checked in the kitchen for anything worth eating. You weren’t in the mood to go out anymore.

Rice. We have rice. Well, rice it is.

You took out the rice cooker and began to prepare your sad dinner.

Why didn’t I just go with them?

As the rice cooked, you sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. You put on ‘Gilmore Girls’, wishing your friends were there to watch it with you.

It was late. Close to 11pm. Kuroo still wasn’t home. You laid on the couch, basking in your loneliness. A little dramatic yes but you hated being without your friends. It was a weird concept that they had friends beside you.

You heard keys jingle outside the door and you felt a wave of comfort come over you, knowing it had to be Kuroo. You got up from the couch and peaked at the door.

“I was starting to wonder what happened to you…” your voice trailed off when you saw that Kuroo wasn’t alone.

“Hey Y/N! Oh my gosh your apartment is so cute!” said Calie. Your jaw dropped and you looked over at Kuroo.

Your expression had to be screaming: “are you fucking kidding me right now!?”

“Oh uh thanks,” you muttered.

“Is it cool if Calie stays for a bit? Her roommates are having people over and she doesn’t know them too well,” explained Kuroo. Hmm I wonder what that’s like.

“You don’t have to ask me, it’s your apartment too,” you said plainly. Kuroo raised a brow.

“Just checking…”

Calie walked around your small apartment, admiring all the decorations that you had up.

“Aw isn’t this the cutest photo!” She said. She picked up a picture of you and Kuroo. It was when you had gotten dressed up together to take graduation pictures. Your smile was the brightest it’s ever been. Holding your diploma as Kuroo wrapped his arm around you. In the background of the photo you could see a faint image of Oikawa and Bokuto.

“Yeah I love that picture,” Kuroo smiled. Kuroo took the photo from Calie’s hand and looked at it.

“Best friends, right?” He looked at you. Your heart sank.

“Yup, best friends,” you whispered with a dull smile. Kuroo smiled and showed Calie to his room. You tried not to react. You walked over to your room, locked the door, and curled up onto your bed.

Is best friends all we are ever gonna be?

•

[taglist OPEN: @vangoghpoets @vangoghmusings @lilnuances @tetsoleil @cloudswritings @foxyyychan @tamaguchi @jessie9008 @bitandbytes @yeehawnana @166cm @bigchaosenergy @tumbledor3 @captain-janeway @answer-the-sirens @simpletype @ysatrap @stinkybitch1919 @bokutory ]

#willow.🌸#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq #kuroo tetsuro x you #hq kuroo #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x reader #bokuto #oikawa tōru #the apartment.🌸

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yourfaceislikeabluemoon · 4 years

Text

His Little Imp

Words: 4.5k

Warning: Finger sucking, blowjob, face-fucking, cum play/cum eating, handjob, slight exhibitionism (if you squint), usual dirty talk, and language.

A/N: soooo I haven’t posted something like this in ages 👀 like I haven’t done a member x member fic in a really long time. but this idea barged into my head while I was trying to fall asleep one night and it wouldn’t go away. plus, this is a favorite trope of mine heh heh. also, it is conveniently Felix’s birthday as I’m posting this (I swear that wasn’t actually intentional, it just worked out that way lol). this isn’t edited bc I kinda forgot and also I’m lazy 😂 anywho, I hope you enjoy - I sure enjoyed writing it hehe ❤

The whipped cream was distracting. Tasty, sure, but it was the tiny glob on the side of Felix's mouth that he had somehow missed when he licked his lips that kept grabbing Seungmin's attention. After a few moments of actively trying, and failing, to ignore it, Seungmin sighed exasperatedly and reached to thumb it away. "Lix, you have whipped cream on your face," he alerted the older boy before he swiped the offending substance off his skin.

Felix made a noise of recognition and leaned forward to give Seungmin better access. The younger gently scooped the cream off with his thumb but wasn't fast enough in retracting his hand; without warning, Felix sucked the whipped cream off and giggled as his cheeks tinged slightly pink. Seungmin stilled, lips parted and eyes wide, and he could only imagine how red his own face was. Felix shrugged and looked away as Seungmin finally let his hand drop to his own lap, "Couldn't let it go to waste."

Seungmin awkwardly cleared his throat and nodded stiffly, "Uh, yeah, of course."

And that was that. They both went back to what they were doing before the 'incident', Felix acting like nothing had happened. But Seungmin was still distracted, just not by the whipped cream anymore. He couldn't get the image of his thumb in Felix's mouth out of his head; those pillowy, raspberry-colored lips, how warm and wet his mouth was, the juxtaposition of innocence and mischief that glinted in the older boy's eyes when Seungmin finally tore his gaze away from Felix's mouth and made brief eye contact, and the faint blush that dusted over those freckled cheeks.

That moment replayed in Seungmin's head way more times than he would ever admit. Not that he would admit to thinking about Felix's mouth in the first place, absolutely not. Seungmin definitely didn't think about Felix's mouth when he was tucked away in bed that night, staring at the inside of his eyelids and willing himself to just go to sleep.

Days later, Seungmin was cooking something in the kitchen of the dorm, it being his idea instead of Felix's for once. He regretted that idea fairly quickly when he gracelessly elbowed a full bowl off the countertop and reflexively tried to catch it, making an even bigger mess in the process. Seungmin swore and threw his head back dramatically, groaning in frustration.

"Lix, I made a mess again."

Felix shuffled into the kitchen already laughing even before he saw the state the younger boy was in, "How many times are you gonna tell me that exact thing in our lifetimes?"

Seungmin shrugged his shoulders and held up both hands, one of which was dripping with the sauce from the bowl, and stared down, past his sauce-streaked apron, at the liquid covering the floor surrounding and all over his feet. Felix tip-toed closer, avoiding the splatters and various sized puddles, and grabbed Seungmin's wrist which startled him. He looked over just in time to see Felix's plump lips closing around two fingers. The texture of Felix's tongue sliding against the pads of his fingertips, ridding them of the sauce, also rid his brain of anything and everything; his mind was just static. His entire body felt like static, too. The only place that had any feeling left was the hand in Felix's grasp and mouth. Jolts of electricity transferred from Felix's taste buds down Seungmin's wrist into the numbness of his arm while Seungmin stood motionless, mouth agape and something akin to disbelief etched into his expression.

Felix dragged the fingers from his mouth and looked off into the distance as he licked his lips, "Needs more salt."

Apparently, even when his entire body is in some weird form of hibernation, Seungmin's knack for sarcasm is completely unharmed, working as usual despite the lack of function everywhere else. So he said the first thing that barged into his empty brain, "Oh, well, hand me the salt shaker. I'll just sprinkle some on the floor here."

Felix snorted and doubled over with laughter, his tiny hands clutching his knees, "Sorry. Sorry, that, yeah, never mind." He wiped at his eyes and straightened up, "Let's clean up."

Seungmin nodded in agreement and looked disdainfully at his feet, "I really need to change my socks." Felix followed his gaze and cringed before busting out laughing again.

And just like that, they acted like nothing happened. Again. Only this time, Seungmin had a new image brandished into the back of his eyelids when he struggled to sleep that night. And this time when Seungmin replayed the moment in his mind, there was definitely no trace of innocence in Felix's eyes.

Now that his brain had so thoughtfully provided him with a new fixation, all Seungmin could think about was Felix's plush lips and warm, wet mouth. His eyes found Felix's face far too often and lingered on his lips for far too long. It was getting bad and he really hoped that no one noticed, especially Felix. But, alas, luck was not on his side -- it never was when it came to this 'situation'.

"Minnie, you're staring again," Felix pointed out from his spot on the couch, legs draped over the back and his head dangling with his attention fixed on his phone.

Seungmin grunted in acknowledgement and blinked rapidly. In his defense, he admittedly had been staring at Felix's mouth but sometime before his brain alerted him to look away after an unsuspicious amount of time, his thoughts wandered and he ended up staring off into space, deep in contemplation. "Sorry," he apologized and squirmed in his seat across from Felix, "Just thinking, didn't even know I was staring."

Felix hummed and spun himself around so he was sitting like a normal human being before patting the place next to him for Seungmin to come sit. "But, unconsciously or not, you've been staring at me a lot." Felix watched the younger make his way over, frowning when he sat down on the opposite end of the couch. He quickly crawled over to Seungmin and sat back on his heels, tilting his head like a confused puppy. "Is something wrong, Minnie? Did I do something wrong?" The pout was evident both in his tone and on those lips of his that Seungmin caught himself gawking at yet again.

Seungmin vehemently shook his head and tried to back away but was blocked by the armrest, "No! No, not at all! Everything's fine!"

Felix hummed again, squinting suspiciously as he eyed the younger boy before his expression morphed into one of smugness and teasing. "Like what you see?"

Snapping his eyes up from where they had been watching Felix speak, Seungmin swallowed thickly, "Uh, is that a trick question?"

Felix shook his head slowly and bit at his bottom lip. "Oh, come on. There must be something keeping your attention or else you wouldn't be staring at me every waking moment!"

Seungmin floundered, unable to come up with an answer. What was he supposed to do? Tell him the truth? Oh, yeah. Sorry, Felix. I just have this super weird fascination with your mouth and it's all I can think about. Not just during the day, I can't even sleep at night because I keep imagining your mouth. I want you to suck on my fingers again just to feel you, nothing major. Yeah, like that was gonna happen. That would go over so well.

"Am I really that pretty you can't keep your eyes off me?"

Seungmin was abruptly wrenched from his thoughts by the boy that was still kneeling on the couch next to him. He was all too aware of the fact that they were sitting too close to each other, so much so that Felix's bare knees were pressed up against Seungmin's thigh. Seungmin's brain finally processed the question he had just been asked but before he could stop himself, he breathed out his answer.

"Yes."

Felix's eyes became hooded and dark and he leaned in closer, a smirk curving his lips. "Tell me, what's your favorite feature of mine?" It should have sounded extremely narcissistic but something in the tone of Felix's voice, a bit contemptuous with just a hint of genuine curiosity, made Seungmin heat up, surely blushing a brilliant shade of red under Felix's enticing gaze.

Seungmin's mouth went dry and he found himself swallowing again as he fumbled for another answer, but Felix held up a finger to halt him. "Wait, let me guess! Could it be my tiny hands?" He wiggled his fingers and scrunched up his nose cutely.

"Oh, maybe it's my eyes," Felix tilted forward again, batting his lashes seductively and looked up at Seungmin through them.

The older suddenly sat up on his knees and lifted his shirt, causing panic to rise in Seungmin and something else. "Probably my itty-bitty waist, right? Wanna grab at it with your big, strong hands?" Felix teased as Seungmin's eyes wandered over the expanse of skin directly in front of him, defined abs, deep v-lines, and that tiny waist.

Seungmin was sweating. Or maybe that was drool. Probably both. And he wanted to touch. Bad.

He instantly glanced up when Felix started talking again, "But that wouldn't make any sense." He dropped his shirt and plopped back down, pouting because he hadn't guessed correctly yet. "You've been staring at my face this whole time." Realization washed over Felix's face and the smirk made its way back onto his plush, tempting lips.

And it was in that moment that Seungmin knew he was fucked.

Felix had known the whole time. He was just having fun riling Seungmin up, making him sweat, making him want him even more, the little devil. "I know," Felix licked his lips, seemingly in slow motion, "It's my mouth you like, isn't it, Minnie?"

Seungmin's sharp intake of air was answer enough. Felix nodded once, "You can touch if you want."

The younger gulped and hesitantly lifted his hand to the other boy's face. When he got within an inch, Felix snarled and snapped his teeth. Seungmin practically jumped out of his skin, eyes like saucers and his breathing labored and panting.

Felix giggled. He giggled. "I'm just kidding, Minnie! I won't bite. Unless you want me to." Felix winked and sucked in his bottom lip to bite down on it. When it popped free from his mouth, the wet flesh glistened in the light and Seungmin threw all fear out the window, grasping the side of the older boy's face before slowly sliding his thumb over Felix's bottom lip and lightly tugging it down. Felix poked his tongue out impishly and hummed, giving Seungmin permission for whatever he wanted to do next.

The younger boy's stare flicked from Felix's mouth, up to his eyes, and back down again. Seungmin retracted his hand only slightly to rest two of his fingertips against the pillowiness of Felix's lips. Tongue peeking out again, Felix gently licked at Seungmin's fingers, watching him intently and gauging his reaction, and when the younger gasped and his eyes fluttered but stayed open, Felix took both fingers into his mouth and sucked.

The faintest moan slipped from Seungmin and he breathed heavily, "Lix."

Felix hummed and smiled around the digits in his mouth, laving his tongue against the fingertips and sucking diligently. He found himself leaning in even further, hands resting on the couch in front of him and his ass perked out, an elegant curve to his spine.

Felix could feel his sense of control slipping and he almost lost it completely when Seungmin pushed his fingers in further and pressed down on the back of his tongue, causing him to gag a bit. Seungmin groaned in response, free hand snaking up to rest at the nape of Felix's neck as he slid down further into the couch.

Felix took the opportunity to move his hands from the sofa seat to rest one hand on each of the younger boy's thighs. Seungmin jolted minutely at the contact but smiled weakly as he pulled his fingers from the older's mouth, a single strand of saliva connecting them like spider silk sparkling in the light. Felix pouted at the emptiness and started to lean backwards but Seungmin stopped him with both hands on his waist. Quirking an eyebrow, Felix leaned back in as Seungmin tugged him forward.

"C'mere," he slurred and pulled the older into his lap. Felix fell against him from the force and chuckled as he situated himself in Seungmin's lap, thighs resting on either side and his arms draped over the younger boy's shoulders. Seungmin stared up at him, completely entranced, eyes wandering over every facial feature, stopping at every freckle and marveling at the beauty in front of him.

Felix giggled, "Minnie?"

"Huh?" Seungmin grunted, immediately making eye contact, pupils already blown.

A coy little grin playing over Felix's face, he leaned in a trifle closer and whispered, "Aren't you gonna kiss me?"

Seungmin was well and truly fucked.

He gulped and wet his lips, steeling himself in preparation. Not that he didn't want to kiss Felix -- boy did he ever! But this was something that had only played out in fantasies behind his eyelids when he let his mind spin things just enough while he was in that space between awake and unconsciousness when he laid in bed at night. This wasn't something he ever expected to happen outside of his daydreams, so to say Felix's question caught him off guard was the understatement of the century.

Felix saw the brief flicker of panic in Seungmin's eyes and he couldn't help but frown, fearing that he had somehow made the younger uncomfortable. "Minnie, if you don't want to kiss me-"

"No! It's not that at all, believe me!" Seungmin reassured as he soothed his hands up and down Felix's sides. He chuckled despite himself, "I just- I've thought about this so much but I guess I never really thought it would happen in real life?" He winced slightly at how lame he sounded but Felix was beaming and Seungmin could see the older boy's desire to tease sparkling in his dark eyes.

"I'm curious," Felix paused to bite at his lip playfully, "How did it go in your daydreams -- us kissing?"

Seungmin yet again explored his deserted brain for an answer and came up empty handed. The twinkle in Felix's eyes somehow became even more mischievous and he scrunched his nose a little before laughing breathily, "Why don't you just show me?"

The younger nodded dumbly, a hesitant palm resting on Felix's hip while the other shakily reached for the side of his face, thumbing at his bottom lip once again. Seungmin delicately guided Felix forward, noses brushing and fingers trembling.

The closer they got, the more Felix could feel his own nervousness thrumming in his chest and he wondered if Seungmin could hear how fast his heart was racing. But, he assumed, Seungmin's heart was most likely beating wildly, too. Their breaths mingled and jolts of electricity went through them both when their lips barely grazed each other's. Felix was yearning to just dive in and kiss him hard, no second thoughts, but he wanted Seungmin to take the lead and do whatever he was comfortable with.

After what felt like ages, Seungmin softly pressed his lips against Felix's and quickly pulled back a little bit. The older couldn't help the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. Seemingly just testing the waters with that initial peck, Seungmin searched Felix's eyes for any sort of hesitation or discomfort and when he found nothing but ardor and rascality, he leaned back in. So gently, so carefully, so sweetly, Seungmin kissed Felix and drew him in closer, chests pressed together.

Seungmin was in heaven -- Felix's lips were somehow even softer than they looked or how he'd imagined, the feeling of holding him was the definition of blissful, and he couldn't get enough.

Felix was going insane -- he felt like a madman and he felt bad about it because all he wanted to do was kiss Seungmin senseless but darling, charming Seungmin was kissing him so innocently.

A few cautious pecks later, Felix calmly pulled away and smiled warmly. "I know I'm small but you don't have to be so careful with me, Minnie. I won't break. And I don't mind if you're a little rougher with me." The older couldn't help the blush that crept onto his cheeks, "I actually kinda like it. A lot."

That was all Seungmin needed; his gaze immediately darkened and his chest rumbled in a sort of growl before pulling Felix back in. His kiss had gone from gentle and pure to searing and sinful at the drop of a hat. He was stealing Felix's breath and the older found himself gripping onto Seungmin's shirt to stabilize himself to some extent.

Seungmin bit and nipped at Felix's pillowy lips, occasionally sucking the lower into his own mouth. He licked at the seam, silently asking for permission, which Felix unabashedly gave instantly.

Felix's jaw went slack and his eyes practically rolled to the back of his head when Seungmin's tongue finally tangled with his own. He whined lewdly when Seungmin sucked in his tongue and, at the same time, squeezed his ass firmly, yanking him in even closer. Felix couldn't help but roll his hips, grinding down in Seungmin's lap and relishing in the low moan the younger let out when their clothed erections brushed against each other.

"Want you in my mouth. Wanna taste you," Felix whimpered against Seungmin's lips when they paused to breathe.

Seungmin chuckled, "Isn't that what we're doing?"

Panting, Felix shook his head and pouted, "Wanna suck you off. Please?"

Breath caught in his throat, Seungmin stared at the boy in his lap. "Any of the guys could come out or come home and see us, we're on the communal couch," he hissed, panicking.

Felix pouted more and punctuated his begging by grinding down again, "Please, want you in my mouth. Please?"

Throwing caution to the wind, Seungmin groaned and tossed his head back before nodding, "Fuck. Yeah, OK. Fuck yes."

Eagerly clambering out of Seungmin's lap and onto the floor in front of him between his legs, Felix clutched at the strong thighs next to him in anticipation. He nosed at Seungmin's clothed length, humming contentedly while the younger squirmed under him.

Seungmin's hips canted and he couldn't help but moan deeply as Felix palmed him and mumbled into his thigh, "You want my mouth just as much as I want your cock, don't you?"

"Ngh, yes. Please, Lix," he groaned at the ceiling. Felix toyed with his zipper, still keen to tease despite being desperate himself. "Please," another whispered imploration. The eldest smiled softly and obliged him, undoing his jeans and tugged them down with bated breath. Seungmin lifted his hips to make it easier, resting back into the couch when Felix had pulled them partway down his legs.

The younger was straining against his briefs, his cock having already leaked enough pre-cum for it to leave a dark spot on the front. Felix whined when he noticed it and pressed gentle kisses along the still covered shaft before sucking at the head through the material, tiny hands kneading at the meat of his thighs, fingertips occasionally slipping under the hem to rile the younger up even more. Seungmin was gripping onto the couch like his life depended on it, drunk off the pleasure regardless of the fact that he was still in his briefs.

Felix quickly solved that problem, fingers dipping under the waistband to slide down the offending item of clothing. His breath hitched when Seungmin's hard cock slapped against his lower stomach and his eyes flicked up to the younger's, mouth agape and watering. Seungmin chuckled huskily and took the perfect opportunity to throw Felix's words back in his face, "Like what you see?"

Felix blinked torpidly and nodded, unable to hide the blush that dusted his cheeks when he registered the question. Without preamble, he leaned in to suck at Seungmin's balls. "Oh!" Seungmin shuddered, gasping at the sudden contact. Felix hummed and lapped at the supple flesh before licking up to the head of his cock. There he suckled tenderly, the tip of his tongue sporadically dipping into the slit, and made eye contact with Seungmin who looked close to passing out.

Panting and squirming, it was Seungmin's turn to whimper, "Shit, Lix! You look so fucking pretty! God!"

Felix fluttered his lashes in response and sunk down on Seungmin's dick, lips stretching obscenely around his girth. He moaned at the feeling of the younger boy hot and heavy on his tongue; his eyes rolled back and drool dripped from the corners of his mouth. Seungmin moaned right along with him, throwing his head back and anchored himself so as not to thrust wildly into Felix's tight, wet throat.

"Lixie, so pretty for me," he brushed strands of hair from Felix's eyes as the older looked up at him again and rested his hand against one freckled cheek, feeling it bulge and hollow as Felix fervently sucked. "Fuck, your pretty mouth was made for my cock, wasn't it?"

Felix whined and nodded in agreement, easing more of Seungmin down with each bob of his head. When he reached the base, he swallowed tightly, tears pooling in his eyes from the discomfort. Seungmin whimpered above him, getting lost in the pleasure. "How can someone be that pretty even when they cry?" he whispered, not really intending for Felix to hear, but the older heard and preened nonetheless.

With one last lave of his tongue over the bulging veins in the underside of Seungmin's cock, Felix pulled up slowly, the head falling from his lips with a filthy pop. He pumped the length with his hand, all the saliva making the slide slippery and smooth. "I know you're close, Minnie," Felix arched an eyebrow, "Are you holding out on me?"

Seungmin's hips pitched forward ever so slightly, dick twitching in the older's grasp, "Ngh, you feel too good. Wanna feel you for as long as I can. Don't wanna stop."

"Oh, baby! I'm not going anywhere! You can have my mouth again whenever you want, don't you worry about that!" Felix placed a single kiss on the head of his cock, seemingly sealing his promise, before smiling up at Seungmin, a dash of feigned pity behind his eyes. "Besides, it must hurt to hold it in so long like this." He tutted and shook his head, "No, that won't do. I know what'll make you cum, baby." Seungmin's hips shot forward at the pet name and Felix snickered meanly, "Here, fuck my mouth. I know you want to."

Seungmin whined and whimpered and writhed. He did want to. So badly. But he didn't want to hurt Felix. The eldest noticed the hesitation and smiled genuinely, "It's ok! I like it rough, remember?" Seungmin nodded tentatively and Felix took him back into his mouth, bracing himself against the strong thighs at his sides. The younger shyly thrusted once, again testing the waters, but when Felix's throat accommodated him so well, he sighed and reached to tangle his fingers in the older's hair before beginning to shallowly thrust. Felix moaned around the cock in his mouth, loving the feeling of his throat being abused as Seungmin's pace quickened and his strokes strengthened.

The older was a whimpering mess being used for Seungmin's pleasure and that got Felix more turned on than he's possibly ever been in his life. He reached down with one hand to grip at his dick over his shorts, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but he ended up pulling out his cock to thrust into his own hand, chasing the blinding satisfaction that he was on the very cusp of.

Seungmin was scorching hot, belly burning with his release so close, "Lix, I'm- I can't last anymore." Felix hummed in encouragement, quickening his own pace on his leaking length. "Lix, can I- I wanna cum on your face. You'd look so fucking pretty with my cum on your face. Can I, please?" Felix was eagerly nodding the entire time Seungmin was begging, or nodding as best he could while choking on his cock.

The younger whispered 'thank you's over and over again as he tugged Felix off by his hair and started to jerk at his sensitive dick. Felix obediently held his mouth open, tongue lolling out in wait, and seconds later, streaks of white painted his lips. A few shot up to land across his freckled cheeks and nose, narrowly missing his eyes, which he was thankful for because he could fully see Seungmin's reaction to his face covered in his cum. And god it was beautiful. So was Felix in Seungmin's eyes. And he told him so.

"Gorgeous," Seungmin breathed, smearing his cockhead in the cum covering Felix's bottom lip. The eldest moaned and smiled, lashes fluttering closed before he suckled any leftover drops of cum from Seungmin's cock and licked his lips. He dragged his fingertips across his face, scooping up all the cum, and sucked it from his fingers, making sure to look Seungmin in the eye as he did.

"Fuck, you're filthy," Seungmin smirked and tugged him back up into his lap, "C'mere." Felix clumsily scampered up, still hard cock bouncing against his own stomach when he sat down. Seungmin glanced down, smirk widening, and took Felix into his hand. "Good. Wanted to see you cum all over yourself anyway."

Felix whined, "And you said I was the dirty one."

Seungmin smiled naughtily before leaning in closer and started to tug at Felix's cute, pink cock. "Gonna make you even dirtier." The older keened and surged forward to kiss Seungmin again. Seungmin groaned when he tasted himself on Felix's tongue but made no effort to move away which made Felix twitch in his grasp. The younger twisted his hand and thumbed at his frenulum, making Felix gasp into his mouth. He swallowed his moans and jerked him to completion, cum spilling over his hand and shooting up the front of Felix's shirt. "Looks like you made the mess this time, Lix," Seungmin whispered against his mouth. Felix punched him in the arm and giggled as he came down from his high.

The two heard a noise and Felix turned around just in time to see Hyunjin, jaw on the floor, slap a hand over his eyes, immediately do a 180, and made a beeline out of the room, presumably in the direction from which he came. Felix giggled while Seungmin groaned, "I knew we'd get caught! You're gonna pay for this, you little incubus!"

Later that night, far past midnight, there was a soft knock on Seungmin's bedroom door. He opened it to find his little imp smiling sweetly, already batting his lashes.

"Can I help you, demon?" Seungmin asked with a raised eyebrow.

Felix clasped his hands in front of himself and cutely twisted in place, his big t-shirt billowing out around him made him look even tinier than usual. "I believe you promised me a punishment."

Seungmin scoffed before glancing the older up and down and growled, "This time, I'm shoving my fingers down your throat while I suck you off."

Felix feigned shock as he closed the door behind himself, "Minnie, how scandalous!"

#stray kids #stray kids felix #stray kids seungmin #lee felix #kim seungmin #felix smut #felix fluff #seungmin smut #seungmin fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids felix smut #stray kids felix fluff #stray kids seungmin smut #stray kids seungmin fluff #kpop smut #kpop fluff

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herstarburststories · 4 years

Text

Sensitive There

A/N: My beta asked me if I was drunk when writing this.

My part for @kalesrebellion’s Bring On The Giggles challenge.

Prompts: front butt & cum gun

Summary: You and Dean get drunk, which leads to a new sexual experience.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: dirty talk, smut, nipple play, Sam being a cockblock, humping, excessive use of the word nipple, purposely written like that bc crack

A distantly familiar smell invaded your nostrils as soon as you entered the bar, but it was different; nothing like the lingering after current of alcohol that wafted through the air after a long day’s hunt. Dean had his arm on your shoulders as he and Sam talked way too excitedly about something that you didn't bother enough to pay attention to. Dear Chuck, that hunt truly drowned all your energy. Thankfully, the place with shining letters on the front door was only ten minutes away. You already felt your mood lift and a relaxed smile sneak onto your lips just for being here. What was a better way to lift your spirits than grossly excessive amounts of alcohol?

So, that is what not only you, but Sam and Dean did as well. Apparently, you weren't the only one sorely in need of a whiskey vacation. By noon, even Sam was drunk.

Fuck, how long had it been since you and the Winchesters got properly wasted? Not the daily beers or the occasional scotch, but really drunk, just for the sake of it.

‘’I'm gonna shoot you with my cum gun.’’

You giggled at Dean, somehow finding his words exciting. Drunk flirting after a hunt was pretty much how you both ended together, mostly because you weren't soberly hearing his pick up lines.

Your chin rested on your hand as you leaned in. ‘’Yeah, babe? Where? On my chest? Or maybe right on my…’’

“Front butt,” Sam interjected, a proud grin on his lips for helping you to complete your sentence.

You and Dean turned to glare at the other person on the table, furrowed brows and slightly opened mouths in surprise. Who the fuck called a vagina that? Especially Sammy.

“What?”

“No, dude. You can't be serious? Front butt? Really?” Dean threw himself on the chair, shaking his head and taking a deep breath.

Sam tried to defend himself. “I forgot the name!”

“Call it filet mignon!” Now it was your and Sam's turn to glance at him a questioning tilt of the eyes, confusion alit on your features.. Dean arched his eyebrows, wasn't it obvious? “Because it's delicious and made of beef.”

You sighed, pouring another glass of vodka with soda. “We really should talk about your weird psychosexual obsession with food.”

“Before you came along, he said that waitresses were his favorite because they smelled like burgers.” Dean slapped his brother's shoulder, exclaiming a dude! as if he had told you a secret. “What? You said!”

Whether it was because you knew Dean or the fact that your blood was slowly turning into alcohol, you weren't actually surprised by Sam's information.

You shrugged. “He got turned on when he saw me wearing his hotdog pajamas.”

“Can we focus on Sam calling your pussy a front butt?” Dean huffed, taking a sip of his whiskey. In an attempt to shift the focus, he smirked at Sammy. “Maybe you should try a guy, they are all butt.”

“And balls. And penis,” you added, sighing dramatically before placing your hand on Dean's thigh. “I like your penis.”

The eldest Winchester looked to his leg, pushing his tongue against his teeth. All the mental images suddenly coming to mind involved you and a bit more of alcohol were very welcoming to him and his big cum gun. He definitely wanted to shoot you. And hey, he was always good with aiming Dean could bet he could hit right in your hole.

Even a bit tipsy.

“Sam, stay here while we use the Impala.” He raised to his feet, pulling you with him. You giggled, pecking on neck only to gain a quiet moan in turn. His body was always so responsive to you.

Sammy, however, had another idea. He was completely oblivious to what you and Dean were up to. His brows knitted together along with a soft pout.

“What? You guys are just gonna leave me here? I want to go back to the motel too,” he said with a fragile tone, clearly sad about being left alone.

With a cocky smile upon his lips, Dean was quick to reply, “Unless you want see a front butt and a butt, I advise you to stay here until we come back.”

“But I want to go, too. I'm sleepy,” Sammy whined, and your heart ached a little. He just wanted to spend time with his big brother and you. Wasn't it adorable?

Not in a threesome way. That would be weird. Two brothers fucking the same girl was weird, especially when she dated one of them, but Sam and Dean were hot in so many different ways. One had a physique of a fucking professional athlete and the other had Greek beauty with rough hands. And Sam's hair was so long... Did he let the girls he was with pull his hair? All right, but threesome with brothers was a level of incest. Even if they always fought in sync, so hypothetically, fucking the same girl could be just as good.

You shook your head, trying to push this image away. You'd never consider this after sobering up.

Tipsy brain, stop. Drunk imagination was wild.

Maybe that is why that author told people to write drunk.

“You are drunk.” Dean's voice managed to take you away from that dark place of your mind where you could see nasty images very, very clearly.

Sam huffed, gesturing with slow exasperation. “So what? I can be two things.”

“Yeah, a bitch and a cockblock.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Dean!” You scoffed, but your boyfriend just shrugged, not feeling guilty. “Let's go to the motel, Sam.”

Fortunately, the motel was only two blocks far, which made it easier for the gang to walk and stumble there.

As soon as the door was open, Sam collapsed on the couch. Dean lost in the middle of the living room, his eyes searching everywhere to find the beds. They got a motel without beds? Well, at least there was a carpet on the floor. That could work.

He could use your butt as a pillow!

“Awesome!” Dean said to himself, turning around to find you. Sam snoring on the couch, check. A refrigerator that probably had some beers, check. He finally found you after a complete spin, seeing you against the door. Girlfriend pillow, check. “Y/N?”

“Sam and I got burritos while you were talking to the sheriff this morning. Mexican food, Dean.” Your voice was low and threatening, like you were telling a horror story. Dean gulped, knowing exactly what you meant. Glare lost on Sam's figure, you continued, “We've brought hell on us.”

As if he'd heard a calling, a farting sound echoed. And then another.

“It's starting... We have to run, Y/N.”

You didn't wait any further, immediately latching onto his hand and walking fast through the motel. Dean almost tipped on his feet, but he knew the mission was more important for the greater good — for his boner and your nose.

You slammed the door shut, waking up a scared Sam. You could hear him hit the floor with a loud thump, but you knew you had to save your oxygen while you still could.

“That one was lethal.” Dean rubbed his hands on his face, and you agreed, breathing fresh air in relief. He observed the room, surprise flickering across his features. “We have a bed.”

“Of course we do.” You plopped onto the mattress, looking at him with a sexy smile. “And we should use it.”

He gave you a lopsided grin. “I couldn't agree more, sweetheart.”

Dean started to take his clothes off, and you bit your lower lip at the sight. When the black shirt was thrown on the other side of the bedroom, you started giggling. Dean arched his eyebrows. That wasn't the reaction he expected.

“Your nipples are funny,” you said, still grinning. Wait, were yours like this too? You threw your shirt away, happily already not wearing a bra. “My nipples are funny too. Nipple high five!”

You raised from the bed and touched your nipples with Dean's, who was watching with an adorable, confused face. As soon as your nipples brushed against each other, it was Dean's turn to whimper like a baby.

“Sweetheart, you know my nipples are sensitive.” He pulled away with a smile, uncharacteristically shy for him.

“I know, but what if it's a good thing?” You held his hand, intertwining your fingers as you led Dean to the bed. You felt light after all those drinks, and you could tell that Dean did, too. You both should have fun with that. “My clit is sensitive and I like when you touch me there.”

“What do you — “ You pushed him to lay on his back, soon jumping on top of him. “Woah, woman!” Dean's eyes were twinkling with much desire, or maybe he was just wasted — you couldn’t tell. Anyway, you would make sure to fulfill this necessity.

“Besides,” you said, running your hands across his chest, enjoying the view and the not so subtle way Dean's body reacted to your touch. His green eyes were glowing anxiously for your next step. “Cosmopolitan says that we should give men more nipple love, too.” You smiled, surrounded by some nasty ideas. You leaned in, allowing your tongue to circle the outline of his nipple before catching it with your lips.

Dean's eyes shut closed as he bit his lip, the sweet agony lighting him up like a comet. He gripped the sheets tightly in an attempt to compose himself. Your skilled tongue proceeded to swirl his nipple a bit, pressing the wet tip against it before sucking lightly.

This time, the Winchester couldn't help but exhale a needy moan. Fuck, was it supposed to feel so good? He loved to suck your boobs and imagine knocking you up to get cream from them like you did on his dick, but he never considered you playing with his chest.

Your hand found its way to his free nipple and started to rub it with your thumb, teasing the sensitive skin with a light blow before anything else. You already had gone a bit too fast on his other pinkened nipple for the simple fact of horniness. You could feel his nipple hardening against your finger, while you suck on his other one.

“Sweetheart, you are killing me.” His hold on the blanket tightened, his thick cock fighting to be free of his pants. You felt his cum gun getting ready to blow on your leg and adjusted yourself on top of him, sitting in his lap as you still worked on his breast. “Fuck.”

You pinched his nipple with your fingertips, gaining back a moan of pleasure. You moved your hips back and forth while riding him like a cowgirl, rubbing his erect dick with your wet pussy. You were both still clothed. Ultimately, you attempted to bite his nipple, and Dean groaned loudly, almost a scream. His huge hands knotted into your hair as he bucked his hips, pulling you closer to his chest. You kept exploring his arousement from that spot, scratching and sucking harder. You changed nipples, always caressing the lonely one. The faster you two went, the closer you got. Until your bodies went full YEE HAA and both of you reached liberation with a strong orgasm. His cum gun finally shot inside his pants, and you in yours.

You fell beside him on the bed, and Dean wrapped his arm around you to pull you closer. Both were breathless, sweaty, and incredibly sensitive because of the newfound pleasure. You laid your head on his strong shoulder, laughing softly before grabbing the blanket to clean your mess on his chest. You and Dean stayed like that for a few minutes, just catching your breath.

“That was intense.” He smirked at you, throwing his body on top of yours. “But now, I'm gonna shoot you with my cum gun. Gonna dirty your pretty mouth with my white juice. You won't be a veggie once you try my meat, sweetheart.”

Dean's Sweetheart: @akshi8278 (DEAN’S TAGLIST OPEN)

Hunter @demonhunterbarbie (ALL SPN WORKS TAGLIST OPEN)

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zevlors-tail · 4 years

Text

Lonely With You

Pairing: ProHero!Izuku x GN ProHero!Reader

Warnings: Self doubt, self deprecating thoughts/words, cursing, reader is very angry in the beginning and throws something if that’s a trigger for anyone (doesn’t throw it directly at anything or anything in particular), lots of crying on reader’s part, song fic, tooth rotting fluff at the end. <3

A/N: Song fic! Sports by Beach Bunny. I said I couldn’t write shit but here we are. I just one shotted this thing in the span of like 3 hours and in 3 more hours, I have to go into work with no sleep. :’) But really it’s fine bc I had motivation and I DID THE THING. I wrote something I kind of liked! I am obsessed with this song right now, so suffer with me I guess.

The second you stormed into the house and slammed the door shut behind you, Izuku could tell something was off. Sure, you had your bad days, but somehow this was different.

“Hi, love! How was your da-” Before he could even finish, you cut him off with an angry look and a short response.

“Fucking awful. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Izuku knew better than to take your short response personally, though he would be lying if he said it didn’t irk him in the slightest. However, you didn’t curse often, and using the “F” word usually meant you were at your wits end with whatever situation you were dealing with. He watched you as you strode past the kitchen with blind rage and threw down your headpiece to your hero costume. A piece of it actually busted off from how hard you had chucked it across the room, nearly missing his eye as it flew past him and making him visibly flinch.

Upon seeing his reaction, you immediately stopped in your tracks and snapped out of your fit of anger, concern for your partner taking over you instead. “Shit-! Izu, I’m so sorry, are you alright!?” Tears welled in your eyes as you panicked and checked his face over for any collateral damage, and when you could find none, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“I’m fine, Y/N. Are...you okay? I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, but you look really...upset.” He struggled to find the right words for a moment. You looked upset, sure, but it was more than that. There was a foreign look in your eyes he hadn’t seen before, something heavy and dark lurking behind your usually bright orbs. His heart couldn’t help but ache for the look you gave him.

If you feel lonely, I could be lonely with you. Tell me baby, why do you seem so blue?

You broke down in tears within seconds, cries of frustration and anguish clawing their way up from your ribcage to your throat. Today had drained you for all your worth and made you feel utterly exhausted. But if you were being honest, this had been going on much longer than just a day. It just so happened that today’s events had been the last straw for you and left you feeling defeated. Months of self doubt and anxieties were finally catching up to you, and now you were paying the price.

Izuku wrapped his arms around you tightly and held your head to his chest as you hiccuped. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He nuzzled his face into your hair before pressing a sweet kiss to your crown, his hand sliding to your back to rub comforting circles.

“I’m no good,” you managed between sobs. “I’m a terrible hero, and I should just quit while I’m ahead. I’ll never amount to anything useful. All I do is get in the way and cause problems for others!” You continued to cry while Izuku let you vent, although it took everything he had in him not to interject that all of those things couldn’t be further from the truth.

Why are we so complicated? Maybe love is overrated...

“I’m a failure. I failed my mission and if it wasn’t for Uravity...” You let out a strangled cry as you admitted what was weighing you down so heavily. “They almost died! They almost died, and it would have been all my fault! If I had just pushed myself harder, if I had done more, then- then- then none of this would have happened!”

“Oh, love...no.”

“I should just do everyone a favor and stop being a Pro. My manager did always say I was better as a sidekick, anyway,” you laughed bitterly at the memory, distracted only for a moment before returning to crying, albeit a little quieter. “I’m ready to give up. Everything I do is wrong... I don’t think I’m cut out for this anymore.”

I’m tired of waiting! I was never good at sports; save the games for the girls on the tennis courts.

Izuku sighed softly before cupping your face in his hands and gazing intently at you. “Y/N Y/L/N, you are not a failure. You are the light of my life and the best thing to have ever happened to me. Do you know that?”

You hesitated a minute while you sniffled and rubbed at your eyes. “Are you sure about that? Because I feel like I’m failing at everything... At being a hero, at being a friend, and at being your partner. I’ve been so stressed out lately that I’ve barely been able to pay attention to you. I’m so sorry, Izuku...” Fresh tears pooled at the corners of your eyes as your self doubt ate at you.

Say you need me, but lately you feel unsure.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Ah, I’m sorry-”

“Nope! No more apologizing, especially when you didn’t do anything wrong.” A small smile found it’s way to his lips as he spoke, “I’ve watched you grow from a student in the hero course with me into the wonderful person and amazing hero you are now, and I want you to know I’m proud of who you’ve become. You’ve been nothing but nice to Uraraka, Iida, and Todoroki, and you’ve done everything you can to support me and be there for me when I need you to be. You cheered me on and pushed me to do better when I felt like giving in so many times. Without you, I wouldn’t be the hero I am today.”

“That’s really flattering, but I think All Might was mostly responsible for making you the hero you are now.”

Come on to me, come on to me...I need more!

Izuku laughed a little as you smiled at your comment, though the pain remained behind your eyes still and his gaze was just as intense as before. He quickly regained composure and continued. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit, love. I was watching the live feed from home while you were on your mission, and from one hero to another, you did all you could with the hand you were dealt in that situation. You can’t place unnecessary blame on yourself for something that’s not your fault. You weren’t a hinder to them, and you didn’t cause them any further problems. I mean, unless you were the one who set the building on fire, but that’s not likely, right?” His teasing tone was meant to lighten the situation, but it seemed to have no affect against the worry and anxiety radiating from you. “Y/N.”

“Hm?” At some point you realized you had zoned out and starting daydreaming about all the possible ways the situation could have gone wrong. Izuku’s voice pulled you back to reality and away from your twisted reverie.

“I love you. It’s okay to feel upset and angry about today, about yesterday, about last month- and especially about that comment your manager made. Which, by the way, we need a new manager for you now, but that’s not the point. I want you to know that I will always be here to support and love you like you’ve supported and loved me. Your friends love you and support you also, you know. Uraraka was just asking me about you yesterday, actually...said you looked a little blue. Oh, and Todoroki wanted me to pass on a message. Something about an angry pomeranian? Are you two making fun of Kaachan again?” He gave you a pointed look.

“Well...yes and no?” You sheepishly grinned and laughed while he just rolled his eyes.

“Anyways, the point I’m trying to make is that you are worth so much more than you think. Your friends love you, I love you, and your fans also love you. You’re more than just a sidekick. You’re an amazing hero and an even better partner to me, and you are not and will never be a failure at any point in time. You did all you could to save those people, and if you hadn’t stepped in when you did, Uravity might not have been able to get to them after all. If you don’t want to be a hero anymore, then of course I’ll support you no matter what, but that’s not really what you want to do, is it?”

Deep down, you knew Izuku was right. There was no way you could step down from being a hero; you loved helping people almost as much as he did. Being a hero was just as much a part of you as your nose or your eyes or your lips. It was a second nature, something you couldn’t just give up on so easily.

“I want to help people and be a hero. I just...lately, I just don’t feel like I’m good enough.”

You sounded so sad and dejected still, and it absolutely broke his heart. Izuku silently promised himself to do everything in his power to make you believe in yourself again before racking his brain for ideas on how to further cheer you up. When you had bad days, there were certain things he did to comfort you and help you relax, but this seemed to be a bit more serious, and thus, required a more elaborate solution than the normal hot bath and back massage. Maybe...yes, that was perfect! It probably wouldn’t fix the problem long term, but it would be a good start.

“You are good enough, and I will always be here to remind you of that.” He leaned in and gave you a soft kiss. “Come on, let’s go relax in bed. I’ll even give you a ride there if you want.”

Your eyes immediately lit up as he turned around and crouched down so you could climb on to his back. As goofy as he was, you absolutely adored him. “Yes! You’re the best!” You squealed as he lifted you up with ease and locked his arms around the back of your legs to keep you nice and secure while he strode to the bedroom. Once there, he set you down on the bed before putting his plan into motion.

At the foot of your bed, you had a night sky projector that would cast the image of stars and planets onto your ceiling. Izuku had gotten it for you for your last birthday, and you loved it dearly. It made you feel content and relaxed when you were restless. Often times, you used it while you were in the bath or right before bed when you were having a rough night. It was perfect for occasions like this. Choosing the setting with the purple colored lights, Izuku powered it on and the two of you watched as your bedroom lit up all over. It was like you were really in space.

He made his way back to bed where you were currently snuggling into the giant comforter you both shared, a blissful smile on his face at the sight of you. You seemed to be feeling better already; you cuddled up to him as the little spoon as soon as he slid under the covers with you. He made sure to find a comfortable position for the both of you, and with the ambience set, there was only one last thing to do.

“If you feel broken, promise I won’t break your heart. If you shatter, I won’t let you fall apart. Why are we so complicated? Love’s a word I’ve always hated...”

You listened to him sing softly, the words falling from his lips effortlessly as he serenaded you with your favorite melody.

“I’m tired of waiting! I was never good at sports; save the games for the girls on the tennis court. Say you need me, but lately you feel unsure. Come on to me, come on to me, I need more...”

You closed your eyes and slowly drifted away from your worries as he sang. If every night could end like this, then maybe everything would be okay after all.

“It always feel like I need more... Jesus Christ, you’re so confusing! If we keep score, bet my money that I’m losing...”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“No, I love you more.”

You felt his laugh reverberate through his chest as he snuggled closer.

“Go to bed, Y/N.”

“Mmn...”

“If you feel lonely, I could be lonely with you... Tell me, baby, why do you seem so blue?”

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