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sunrisetune · 1 year

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Hi Goose. Another Dragon Age prompt -- I was trying for angstier, but I'm too sleepy, so here it is as it is: Anders attempts to fulfill a patient's last request, with or without help from Hawke (or anyone else you wish).

(ID: An edited ‘The Office’ meme, of a man looking off into the distance with a determined expression. The caption says, “I’m going to make this way angstier than it needs to be.”)

So I actually have more of this bc I can’t write short-fic to save my fuckening life, But I wanted to give you something before the new year! Therefore: Please accept this slightly reworked excerpt of a thing; hopefully it should stand mostly on its own?? \o/

- 740-ish words - Dashes of Hawke/Anders; Anders was right but he still absolutely did things wrong - And you know when sometimes people write a friendship route Hawke and (or / ) Anders where both of them are completely okay with Kirkwall being destroyed, or where Justice and Anders are chill with the amount of death the war causes because it's a ~needed price to pay~? Fuck those two interpretations specifically.

CW: The end of Act Three - violence, brief gore, mass / crowd death, children in dangerous situations, fire, suicidal ideation.

‘Pyre’

The chunk of what was once Chantry wall careened out of the sky and cracked the street in front of him. He flinched, his arcane shield flaring for a moment before the dust cleared. When it did he wished it hadn't, but forced himself to look. Stone, and flesh. A trail of blood seeping from underneath a wrinkled hand stuck out from the wreckage. Anders felt sick. Then he heard the wail, and went to them.

The poor elf woman caught under the wreckage refused to accept his healing, or his frantic instructions not to move. Instead she inched closer to her husband and pressed her cheek to his bleeding skull, murmuring comforts. There was nothing Anders could do for them, he realized-- half his face was gone, and with her chest in that shape, she had only minutes. She looked up at Anders through the mess of her hair. "Please," she said. "The baby." He turned. There, a few feet away-- she must have thrown them-- a bundle of rags the size of a young elf child. The bundle was breathing. Anders looked back at the poor mother and nodded. Her eyes filled with tears of relief and pain. “Thank you.” He had no elfroot or lotus to ease their passing but she put her face to her husband’s and closed her eyes, and he cut her throat as fast and smoothly as he could.

Anders’ hands were shaking and still covered in gore, but he picked the child up, carefully. He checked their breathing, turning their face to his chest to give them some small measure of protection. At least there wasn’t any darkspawn blood on him. They’d make it to the alienage, Andraste willing.

He wove through the broken streets with his arcane shield shimmering dimly around him, his aura stretching as far as his concentration could spare, healing those around him for the few seconds they were close enough. It wasn't much but he could hope it might give someone another few minutes. Mechanically, he stepped around the corpses. All but ignored the screams coming from the burning stacks of hovels euphemistically called 'apartments' throughout Lowtown. The buildings were too cramped, too close together, and the fire spread like a ravenous beast. The most he could do was pray that they'd die quickly of the smoke.

It felt almost like he did on his worst weeks: everything so loud, the air itself ringing cruelly, nothing getting through to him. But something was keeping him just above that, like treading water in a freezing lake. Justice, trying to protect him. They were one now but nonetheless Anders hadn't felt the spirit so present in a long time; not furious, burying him in his own mind, but simply there. Sustaining. They probably wouldn't have been able to continue at all if it wasn't for Justice. Back in front of the ruined Chantry, after Hawke had thrown her dagger to the stones, Anders certainly wouldn't have been able to stand. (She shouldn’t have let them go. They should be dead. They should have paid--) They were hollow but for a viciously twisting rage; a great, helpless guilt. Rage at the templars, at himself. Them both. How dare his heart ache. How dare their eyes burn with more than the ashes? How could they grieve when they were responsible for the suffering of these people? He'd lit the fire. Their home was burning. What could he possibly do for them now?

Something. They must do something.

It’s a monstrous thing, feeling such sorrow and certainty they'd do it again.

Amid all the chaos, his siblings face down their oppressors. More and more of them twist grotesquely into abominations as the fight continues-- Anders wants to scream at them in betrayal. Still others fall on their knees and beg before the steel struck through their throats. What kind of a way was that for mages to die? They were meant to fight! His fingers tighten on their staff until they're nearly claws of his own. It-- didn't matter. The world would know, no matter how many were dead. And he'd help them, he'd join the battle with or without Hawke, and do what he came here to. ('Without Hawke'. Anders couldn’t linger on that thought.) Maybe they could still save some of them, or maybe he could slaughter enough templars that some of this rage would ease.

Just not yet. The child in his arm breathed, fragile, still unconscious. If he could be a healer still-- even once more-- he had a promise to keep.

#Five BILLION years later hello #syrupwit #For you! [I am holding a dead rat]#Goose's writing tag by Goose #gore cw #fire cw #death cw #child harm cw #depression cw #Dragon Age #DA2

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simpfiles · 2 years

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One More Hour Partner |1.2K|

summary. alan’s 9 to 5 shifts just aren’t the same without your texts.

a/n. was gonna write a silco fic but this picture by selfshipcornchip had me in the VISE. first thought was of that one more hour gf meme and i had to write something.

Alan knows your patterns by heart, able to predict the outcome of the day based on the frequency of your texts. The more constant they ran, the higher chance your day was uneventful and you had more than plenty of time to kill. He likes those days the best as his own schedule usually matched in pace and he could call you from the break room.

He knows it’s your break when his phone grows erratic with rapid vibrations, each one followed by a PING! PING! PING! You regal him tales of your morning with vivid detail it borderlines gossip and he responses back in one word replies always followed by a period. It’s rare for him to match your enthusiasm in his own texts as he doesn’t pay much mind to his coworkers and would appreciate the same in return.

Last week he sent you a picture of his tomato plants from his compose beside a ruler with the caption ‘They’re growing.’, The photo was blurred slightly around the edges and too out of focused to really see the difference in growth from the last picture he sent, but that didn’t stop you from immediately texting back an array of emojis followed by a congratulations on his hard work. An effortless smile quirked at his lips when you prefaced your message with the obligatory ‘working. can’t text but...’ , self-satisfied with the idea that you would risk getting in trouble for him.

There are days when you’re flooded with work and your texts run dry. Days like today when Alan will repeatedly check his phone for any updates from you, reread the same good morning texts the two of you exchanged on his way to work. He checks his phone once more during the time frame of your lunch break, sending you a picture of the office’s fridge.

[alan] I brought meatloaf, today.

“Oh, hi Alan,” Pim waves as he takes a seat at the table, “Taking a picture of the fridge for your partner again?”

“Mhm.” Alan answers, putting his phone away as he closes the fridge door.

“I think it’s great that you have someone to share inside jokes with.”

“I guess.” It’s not really a joke...You just have a weird interest in what everyone at work eats for lunch. He looks at his phone again. zero notifications. “They must be busy.”

Pim nods, “I’m sure tha--”

“Hey, Alan!” Charlie runs into the break room with disregard to the conversation at hand. He’s sweaty and shirtless and more importantly out of breath. “W-we need you to play a game of basketball man. Because, because you’re so tall.”

Alan makes a vague gesture, hesitating -- he’s not good at basketball. “I’m not good at basketball.”

“Not good at basketball what do you mean? You’re- You’re the height of a tree, man.”

“Ohhh, Charlie can I play?” Pim asks excitedly, waving his hand in the air like a little kid begging to be picked for teams. “I love basketball and I’m really good at it too.”

Charlie turns to Pim with a flippant flick of his wrist, “Yeah, yeah sure. You can be a standby.” Pim explodes out of his sit in a power stance, fists raising over his head with an excited, F- Yeah!, while Charlie continues his pitch to Alan. “C’mon, we need your height.”

“Yeah, Alan.” Pim interjects, already warming up for the game with high legs, “It doesn’t matter if you’re good or bad. As long as we’re having fun together.”

“Actually it does matter.” Charlie corrects, “This is part of a job. We need to win this basketball game to cheer this guy up.”

“Oh, I see.” Pim looks down, the gears in his brain frantically churning to think of something positive to say, “Well, I’m sure if we give it our all we can win. What do you say, Alan?”

There’s innocence in Pim’s big sparkling eyes as the younger man looks up at Alan with such sincerely, it’s hard to refuse the offer. Alan still would. If his phone buzzed at this second with a text from you, he would call the whole thing off and retreat to the back of the storage room to text you between boxes of pens and files. But the screen remains a black void and Alan reluctantly gives in, “Mmm, I guess.”

"Man, that was great!” Charlie shouts on their way back to the office. The basketball game had been a success, largely in part to Pim’s unnatural skills and Alan’s natural talent of getting smacked in the face with the ball. Those penalties add up. “I gotta admit, Pim. When you said- when you said that you were good, I wasn’t 100% sold. Sorry for doubting you.”

“That’s ok. I’m just glad we all had a fun time.” He pauses, looking over to Alan who is still nursing an ice bag on his cheek with his phone in the other hand. “Are you ok?”

Alan looks up. There’s now a row of blue texts on his side of the conversation. He groans, “Yeah.”

Pim isn’t convinced.

[alan] One more hour.

It’s five. Time to go home. Alan says goodbye to his coworkers as they walk off in different directions, his being away from the setting sun. He carries with him a brief case that he’s brought to work since day one. It only holds a packet of gum, some pens from the office and a picture of you that you hot glue on the seam so that you’d always be with him. It was excessive at the time and ruined the case. Still is and does to this day but he’s grown fonder for that side of you, especially on days when you haven’t been able to be there with him through text.

He occupies his time on the bus with Wordle, able to crack the puzzle in four tries and sends you the results. The rest of his time is spent staring out the window, watching as his part of the city merges into your district.

PING!

He looks down. One message from you.

PING!

PING! PING! PING!

The sound of notification from his phone becomes aggressive and he silences it. Swiping his thumb over your recent text he’s greeted to streaks of green and a grey bubble at the bottom with three dots indicating you’re not finished yet. You use up more words than necessary, but ultimately what had happen was your phone died, because you forgot to charge it yesterday, because you fell asleep... texting him. He muses a tentative smile, finding humor in you trying to pin the blame on him, and cuts through your wall of text with a question.

[alan] Dinner? [you] Where? [alan] Chinese take out. We’ll meet at your place. [you] Sounds perfect! I’m starving!! And I have so much to tell you!

There’s a high pitch squeal of wheels and springs as the bus lurches to a stop. Alan tucks his phone in the side of his brief case as he exits the bus and stops in front of a bargain store. Neon signs with electric yellow and magenta beckoning him to BOGO offers and SLASHED PRICES. He takes a step closer. Perhaps...

Perhaps, they’ll have portable phone chargers on sale.

#Alan #Alan x Reader #Smiling Friends #never say i cater to the masses #no one is asking for this but myself #xian

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cayofdreams · 3 years

Text

Establishing the Monocracy

~(Brat!Reader x Bakugou)~

Words: 3.4k

Rating: 🌊 18+, Smut

Warnings/Tags: cunnilingus, teasing, slight degradation

Notes: I was writing this req and just got inspired cuz Bakugou. Ended up being somewhat a preface to my Down with the Monocracy (which ofc is not a req reading to enjoy this)

<><>~~~~~~~<><>~~~~~~~🌹 ~~~~~~<><>~~~~~~~<><>

“Ohhh~! Yeah baby, right there!! So good!!”

The obnoxious moaning of the actress through your phone’s speakers made Bakugou quickly turn around from his desk to glare bullets into you. You were sitting on his bed, looking nonchalantly at the events transpiring on the screen.

The two of you were supposed to go out later to hangout with friends so you stopped by his place to kill time. Two hours of time. A normal occurrence for you considering you liked to annoy your friend-and-rival whenever you could, and admittedly his surprisingly cozy room was comfortable to just laze around in. Usually you’d read manga while he did whatever but Mina had sent you a rather vulgar clip with the caption ‘how i hope my night ends 😝😝!!’.

“Oi! What the fuck are you looking at in my room?! Turn that shit off!” More than the fact that you were boldly watching porn in his vicinity, he was more perplexed at how you were still playing the video after he called you out. “Why the fuck are you watching that?!”

“I just don’t get it.” Scratching your head, you continued to look quizzingly at the actress’ performance. “I mean, people actually find this stuff arousing?”

“Are you just gonna ignore my question?!”

“Oh my goodness, calm down. Mina sent me a video. She’s acting like its the hottest thing ever but it isn’t entertaining at all.” You rolled your eyes before concentrating once more on your phone’s screen.

Finding it useless to ask if it was normal for friends to send porn to each other he instead questioned just what you were looking at to elicit such a response from you.

“What? You used to some kind of extravagant sex or some shit?”

“No. Rather what’s happening here is extravagant. Literally no one does this in real life. It’s so unrealistic.”

A million questions ran through Bakugou’s head at this moment. Why were you watching porn in his room? What the fuck kind of porn is so bizarre that a deviant like you is confused? And Jesus were to trying to start something right now? Was he literally in a shitty porn introduction and didn’t know it?

“Fuck~!! Hyahhh!! I’m gonna cummm~~!!!”

The sounds of the video continued to penetrate through Bakugou’s room. Mentally he was annoyed at the fact that he just wanted to get ahead on some paperwork before going out and your idiocy was preventing that, but physically the boner that was rising in his pants was only more and more intrigued. The woman he’d been undressing with his eyes for longest of times was now in his room, laying on his bed, watching porn.

“I mean seriously, only an idiot could think guys do this.”

“What the hell crazy shit are you looking at??”

“That thing that’s in like every porn. Where the guy is like licking her down there. Cunnilingus, if you will.”

Bakugou raised his eyebrow at you. “You mean eating pussy?”

“Oh my god…you’re so vulgar.” Rolling your eyes, you turned on your side, back faced towards Bakugou.

“You’re the fucking one in my room watching-“ As he glanced at your figure, he wondered just what the fuck you were getting at. Were you weirdly trying to seduce him? By playing porn and then pretending as if you were inexperienced in oral sex just for his sexual interest in you to pique? Were you trying to sexually outsmart him? Bakugou chuckled as he got up and walked towards you. “You think you’re so fucking sneaky, huh?”

You felt the increasing weight on the bed as Bakugou pressed his knee into the mattress to close his torso in on you. “What?” Quirking your eyebrow and turning towards him, you pondered his sudden shift in demeanor.

“Don’t fucking play dumb. I know what you’re doing.” Bakugou gripped his fingers around the collar of your shirt, forcing you to directly face him. “Since you pissed me off, I’m not doing shit with you even if you asked nicely.” He let go of you to walk back toward his desk, slumping himself in the chair. “Pretending like guys aren’t lining up to worship your pussy with their tongue just to get me to pity you. Pathetic.”

You paused as you analyzed his mood. Clearly he was upset at you, but you didn’t have the slightest idea why. “I agree that I should be worshipped but I don’t quite understand what you’re talking about.”

Bakugou clicked his tongue and shot a glare at you. “There’s no fucking way you’re gonna sit here and tell me some loser hasn’t been down on you. Didn’t you just get out of a relationship?”

“Mmm…yeah.”

“And you fucked, yeah?”

“We had sexual relations, yes.”

“And he never went down on you?”

“No. He said it wasn’t necessary.”

“W-What?”

“Well, he said since I’m quote-on-quote, horny all the time, it wasn’t necessary.”

Bakugou knew you were a trickster of sorts, but the way you just nonchalantly talked about your bitch of a boyfriend like it was normal told him you weren’t lying. Did someone like you, the prissiest, most self-absorbed chick in the universe really date someone who wouldn’t go down on you. Fuck, did you miss out.

Or rather, the bastard missed out.

Some snobbish prick didn’t hop on the chance to make you squirm under them? The one chance they’d probably have in asserting their rightful dominance over you, and they were too fucking stupid to not take it? It’d be a lie to say that when Bakugou saw those soft plushy thighs of yours peeking out from under your tight skirts he didn’t fantasize about the dripping mess he could create underneath.

Hell, you practically put your pussy on display whenever you wore those so-called ‘athletic’ shorts that helped you move faster as you’d claim. Bullshit. As if you weren’t tempting every loser in your vicinity with those faint imprints of your pussy lips through those shorts. Fuck, if he had known the whole time you were dating that piece of shit that he wasn’t going down on you, he would’ve fucking shown you what you were missing out on.

Well he wasn’t going to make the same shitty mistake as your boyfriend.

With a small curl of his lips, he cocked an eyebrow towards you. “You wanna find out what you missed out on?”

“Huh?”

“What your shitty ex was too stupid to not do, you want me to do it?”

After taking a moment to process Bakugou’s advances, you erupted into laughter. “No way!”

“Why the fuck are you laughing?!” Here he was, practically stripping his ego away for you, and you were just going to laugh in his face? Refusing his incredibly generous offer? Nevermind the sadistic value he’d receive from having you completely fall apart under him, it was still you who’d reap most the benefits.

You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, trying to stifle your snickers. “Okay, and I suppose you’re going to make me scream obnoxiously like the girl in that video, are you?” You face turned from amused to stern. “Unfortunately for you, I’ve already had sex and its nothing like what’s portrayed in that silly pornography. I’m sure it’s the same for- what do you call it? ‘Going down’? So, don’t even waste my time, Bakugou.”

Bakugou chuckled at your ignorance. Not only had you not had the pleasure of your pussy being smothered by some bastard’s tongue, but he wasn’t even fucking you properly? You poor thing. Honestly, he was a little offended you were only just now relaying this information onto him.

While you were trying to go back to whatever random things you were doing on your phone before Mina interrupted you, Bakugou strode back over to his bed, this time climbing on top of it, maneuvering your thighs so that he’d be seated between them.

“Oh no, did I awaken the challenger part of you? I’ve said what I said now get off.” You tried to kick you foot at him but he caught your ankle in his grip.

“Going against your weak excuse of a boyfriend is hardly a challenge, princess.”

“Oh ho-ho, so getting me to actually feel pleasure from what-ever you’re about to do is the challenge?”

“That’s not a challenge either.”

Sucking your teeth, you hastily took off your skirt and spread your thighs for him. “Fine. You have one chance, Ba-KA-gou.”

“Tch. Just do me favor and-“ Bakugou placed your hands around your knees and further spread your thighs apart. “keep ‘em fuckin’ spread.”

Rolling your eyes, you silently complied. You weren’t shy in the least about your body but the way Bakugou was intently zeroing in on the clothed folds of your pussy made your breath a bit shaky.

Just when you were about to say something about his odd silence you felt the soft peck of his lips on your thigh. That peck was slowly followed by another, this time slightly closer to your center. As you tried to ease your breathing each peck made you more wet than the previous. By the time Bakugou was at the lining of your panties, you were practically pooling through the fabric. Smirking at your trembling he looked up at you.

“Shy?”

“N-No! You’re just incredibly slow. I bet you’re just h-hesitating because you don’t know how to- Owwch!” Bakugou had sunk his teeth into the softness of your thighs. Not enough to break skin, but enough to make you kick your heel into his back in retaliation. “What was that for?! You brute!”

“You’re getting on me about going slow but you’ve been the one wasting everyone’s time, Y/N.” He stroked the tip of his index finger along the slit of your panties, making more of your juices spill through the fabric. “Dating some shitty asshole when you could’ve been wetting this glorious cock the whole time.” He circled his finger around the clothed hood of your clit, reveling in the broken whimpers you couldn’t help but let out. “So now I’m gonna take allll the fucking time I want. So just lay there and try to make this a challenge for me.”

Bakugou then wrapped his lips around your pussy, soaking his saliva through your panties. He wasn’t even directly touching you but the rampant motions of his hot tongue through the now drenched cloth made your hips squirm underneath him. He went back and forth from licking to sucking you over your panties, pausing when you quivered too much or moaned too loud. He didn’t want to accidentally make you cum before his main act.

Unconsciously, you had let go of your knees to glide your fingers through his spikey locks, slightly pulling him forward as if he’d be able to ghost his tongue through your panties. He looked back up at you, pleased with your erotically joyous face.

“Didn’t I tell you to keep your hands there? You’re distracting me.”

Letting out a noise somewhere between a scoff and a whine, you re-placed your hands around your knees.

“So surprisingly obedient.” Bakugou slipped his finger around the crotch of your panties, gliding his knuckle around your swelled clit. “Probably because you’re just desperate to have your pussy played with. What a slut.” He increased the pressure of his knuckle around your clit and the feeling of it made you lean your head back against Bakugou’s pillows. “How about you tell me what you want, princess?”

Regulating your breathing enough to form a sentence you rose your head again to meet his vermillion eyes. “G-Go down on me. Prick.”

“Go? Huh? Where? In a car? Fucking clarify.”

You clicked your tongue and turned your head, annoyed at his feigning. Seeing as how you’d require a little encouragement, Bakugou pressed a kiss against clothed pussy, rubbing the tip of his nose where your clit would lie directly underneath. “C’mon. You’re college educated, right? Use your fucking vocabulary.”

You slowly turned your head towards him, the twitching agitation of your eyebrows only fueling him more. “Will you perform cunnil-“

“Finish that sentence and I’m leaving.”

Not wanting to test him on that threat, you reluctantly parted your lips. “…Eat my…” Bakugou licked stripe along your completely soaked panties, stopping to wiggle the tip his tongue against where your clit would be. “Mmnnn~…my pussy...”

“What? Can you fucking speak up? You can present shit in front of a whole audience but now you’re being as quiet as a damn mouse.”

“F-fuck…Bakugou. Damn you.” Your eyes became watery at the mix of humiliation and pressing desire to be touched directly. Were you really going to soil your ego for this bag of cockiness? Surely it wasn’t worth it. Is what your mind would probably say. But right now, your pussy wore the crown. And the queen was craving attention. “I want you to- to e-eat my pussy.”

Bakugou placed another bite on your inner thigh making your body jolt. “Can’t even add a damn ‘please’ to that? I’m sure your type was taught manners.”

“Pleeaassee~ Fuck! Please eat my pussy, Bakugou!”

A small burst of laughter left him as he slapped your thigh. “Well take ‘em off, princess.”

Begrudgingly taking off your panties, a shiny string of your wetness that connected you with the fabric broke as you threw them on the floor. Reassuming the previous positioning of your thighs, your now bare pussy was left open and vulnerable to your rival.

He leaned down to hover over your pussy, his nose trickling against the hood of your clit. You were already so wet for him. Your pussy was just glistening with juices that begged for tending to. Steadying his position between your thighs he glanced at you one more time. “You better not move.” He then licked a stripe up your folds, stimulating your clit in the process.

“Hyaah~!” The feeling was too much for your somewhat-inexperienced pussy and caused you to involuntarily push Bakugou back with your feet. The annoyance of being stopped was promptly displaced with satisfaction as he peered at your pitiful form.

“What did I just fuckin’ say? Open your legs again.” His voice that was rasp with frustration didn’t match his look of sadistic gratification. You were giving him just the reaction he wanted. Did you really think your meek little pussy was any match for him? He had barely touched you and this is how you’re acting? And the fact you were still hesitating on presenting that little pussy to him again only drove him more eager to ravish you.

“Dammit, Y/N. Do I have to do every fucking thing?” Bakugou pulled you up by the waist so that you were in a piledriver-like position, with your back arched and ass raised in the air, and of course your pussy now directly presented up towards him. The crook of your neck was nothing compared to his tight grip around your hips, the squish of your flesh plunging from between his fingers. You couldn’t even use your legs to fight against him as his grip was too secure. “All I’m doing for you, and you can’t even follow simple fucking directions.

“’C-Cuz it felt too-Hmmnngh~!” You were cut off by the ravaging of Bakugou’s tongue over your pussy folds. He went back and forth from slurping up your juices to flicking his tongue over and over on your clit. If you weren’t already embarrassed by the position you were in, the absolute filthy sounds Bakugou was making with his mouth were achieving that. “Hnnggh~Baku…Bakugou!” You tried flailing your legs around in the air but Bakugou quickly grasped them in his hands.

He ran his nails down the silky surface of your thighs, making for a sweetly masochistic pleasure mixed with his obscene lapping at your pussy. Continuing his gorging on your sweet pussy, he could feel you shaking from below him. He looked down below at your face, chucking into your pussy at how wretchedly delirious you looked.

“Gonna cum?” You vehemently shook your head no despite the swelling you felt within your pelvis. He slithered his hands down to glide them up your shirt, lifting up your bra above your soft breasts. “Well I’m not fucking stopping until you do. So give me something to play with until then.”

Bakugou roughly kneaded at your breasts between his fingers, squeezing them to hear your pitchy whines at the pain. The mix of his saliva and your slippery essence drooled from your pussy to pool at your tummy and breasts. He gathered a bit of the mixture and slicked his fingers in circles on your nipples. The erotic feeling of it sent a surge of pleasure straight to your pussy. “Ahahnn~ Bakugou…I-I’m gonna cumm~”

He locked eyes with you, continuing to slick his tongue around your clit. “From what?” Boosting your urgency to reply, he pinched a little harder at your nipples. “Tell me what you’re gonna cum from, princess.”

“F-From you eating my pussy~! From Katsuki eating my pussy~!!” The sounds of hearing you use his name for the first time made him pink in the cheeks and twitch in his boxers. Bakugou came up from between your hips, enticed to make you say more lewd things. You were rarely one to speak vulgarly so he’d make the best of your blissed-out state.

“Ahaha-! You sound like those silly pornos!” Not thinking your face could feel even more hot, you felt your cheeks rise with even more heat at his teasing. Bakugou took one of the hands from your breasts and palmed it against your slippery folds. “You still think every guy is like your stupid fucking ex, Y/N?” He ran his palm back and forth against your slit to keep you right on the edge of an orgasm.

“Noo~! Katsuki is so m-much better! Katsuki is sooo much better than my stupid ex~!”

He chuckled at your admittance, but of course, he couldn’t leave it there. “I’m kinda the fuckin’ best, aren’t I?”

“Hmmnn~! Yesss! ~the best! K-Katsuki is the bessst~!”

“You wanna cum on my tongue?”

“Please! Please let me-! Please let me cum on your tongue, Katsuki~!”

“You better fuckin’ listen to me and stay still, then. And don’t look away from me.”

Bakugou threw you back on the bed before lying on his stomach to place himself once more at your quivering pussy. Making sure your eyes were locked with his, he enveloped your folds within his mouth, sucking directly on your clit. He not only feasted on your pussy, but on the entranced look in your eyes. Your e/c eyes that looked at him like he was the only one that could gratify your carnal desires.

And from now on, he’d be sure he was the only one.

You gripped your fingers at the bed sheets beneath you as your orgasm rapidly creeped up on you. The intensity of Bakugou’s tongue coupled with his eye contact was sending you over the edge more fiercely than any pathetic ex or cheap sex toy ever could. “Ohhhmygodd~ Fuckkk-! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m-“

Forced to break eye contact with the unconscious jerk of your head back on the pillows, your pussy convulsed violently around Bakugou’s tongue. “Katsukiii~!” If you had to say, this was the most powerful orgasm you’d ever experienced. All at the hands- or tongue rather- of Bakugou Katsuki. Your ego would surely be disappointed in you choosing your pussy over it.

Bakugou slowly licked his tongue up and down your folds as you came down from your high. The corners of his lips lifted into a devious smile at your disheveled appearance. When your body finally stopped trembling, he completely separated his mouth from you and slid his body on top of yours to be face-to-face with you.

Silently, without care of you still gasping for air, he pressed his lips against yours, eventually intensifying the kiss with the slip of his tongue between your lips. Happily obliging, you glided your tongue against his as your fingers slithered up to once again fumble with his locks of hair. The taste of you on his tongue almost seemed sensual as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Sliding his hand up to gently grip at your jaw, he separated his lips from yours, licking away the chain of saliva that still connected the two of you. As he sat upright to take his shirt off, he looked down at you, embellished with yearning to relieve his own build-up.

“Should I prove you wrong on fucking too before we hang out with those losers?”

<><>~~~~~~~<><>~~~~~~~🌹 ~~~~~~<><>~~~~~~~<><>

#bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut

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bestbakubros · 3 years

Note

Can I request Bakugou, Deku, todo you can change or add characters if you want but they're just lying where they are on their stomach and their crush just kind of rolls onto their back with no sense of personal space at the moment and just gets in their face in a cute way like, "whatcha doing?" and refuses like a cat to get off because they got comfy. Maybe someone takes a picture of it too?

a/n: hi anon!! thank you so much for the request! sorry this took me so long to get out! this was such a cute request to do! hope you enjoy!!

warnings: cursing, fluff

~~~~~~

Bakugo, Deku, Todoroki minding their business when their crush gets into their personal space

Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram on the couch of the common room, taking a small break after working out with Kirishima. He was laying on his stomach so he didn’t see you walk into the room.

Being the curious person you were, you decided to go see what Suki was up to since everyone else was doing something in their dorms or outside. You saunter over to the coach and lay down on Katsuki’s back.

He was about to smack you, thinking it was the electric dunce, until he looked to his side and saw your bright smile. “WHO THE FUC-?! (Y/N)! WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU DUMBASS!” “Whatcha doing Suki?” His ears turning red from the fact that you were LITERALLY on top of him and how close the proximity of your faces were.

Katsuki wiggled from under you trying to escape, but you wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself stable. “GET OFF OF ME!” “Noooo! I’m comfortable here! You’re so warm and it’s freezing in here!” You nuzzle your face into his back making him blush 10x harder. “Shitty idiot, invading my personal space.” He mumbles in defeat as he continues to scroll through Instagram. “What was that Suki?” “TCH NOTHING DUMBASS!” You smile in victory and get cozier on Bakugo’s back.

Little did the two of you know that Mina was right at the corner filming the entire thing and sending it to the class group chat. She giggled at the sight of you cuddling Bakugo like he wasn’t a feral dog, but he didn’t seem to act that way with you as Mina interpreted it, taking the hint about his little crush on you.

Izuku Midoriya

Izuku was lying on his bedroom floor, scribbling notes into his journal and talking to himself about the prohero who came to visit your class this afternoon. You were walking through the hall to get some snacks from the kitchen when you heard the familiar mumbling down the hall.

Your curious little mind wanders to Deku’s room to see him comfortably laying down on his stomach scribbling down his thoughts. He was so absorbed in his mind that he didn’t even hear you call his name several times. Instead of calling his name out more, you walk over to where he laid and got right on top of him, snapping Izuku from his thoughts. His head turns to meet your eyes and bright smile, the heat spreading across his cheeks up to his ears.

“I- UH YO-? W-what are y-you doing (y/n)?” “What are YOU doing there Deku?” You look down at his notebook, and back to his green eyes. He looks down for a second before shutting the notebook with his pen inside to keep his place. “I-I was writing some notes down on the prohero that came to our class today!” “OOO cool! Can I see?”

Izuku hesitantly opens the notebook, nervous that you think he was an absolute nerd for keeping tabs on every hero he encounters. “Wow! This is so cool Izuku!! Who else do you have in here??” Deku shows you his journal, flipping through the endless pages of notes. You wrap your arms around him to get comfortable, flustering Deku in the process. He ignores the heat radiating off of his face and continues talking, failing to notice that you were so comfortable laying on him that you were falling asleep from his warmth.

A couple minutes go by and Izuku is still talking when Tsuyu is going back to her dorm room. She turns her head to the familiar voice and sees you cuddling Izuku while he kept rambling on and on. Tsuyu snaps a quick photo before heading back to her room. She sends it to the Dekusquad gc with the caption ‘Look at these two <3”

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto was lazily lying around in his dorm room writing letters to his mother telling her about how he has been feeling lately about the little crush on you he only discovered a few weeks ago. He had been too absorbed in writing this particular letter that he didn’t even notice you standing by the door of his room.

“Todo! Lunch is ready! Sho?” You make your way to his bed where he was writing so intensely. You decide to play around with him, so you get on top of him and lay down on his toned back. Todoroki groans a little from the sudden weight on his back as he looks to his left to see you laying your head on his shoulder. “Oh hello (y/n).” He quickly folds the paper up so you wouldn’t see the words he poured out about you.

“Whatcha writing Todo?” “It’s a letter to my mom.” “Aw that’s sweet! What did you say if you don’t mind me asking?” “I was just telling her about how life has been in UA and I wrote about my siblings.” “Aww that’s sweet! I’m glad you keep in touch with your mom, I know if I had a son as amazing as you I would treasure every letter you write to me!” “Is that so?” “Mhm!”

You give Shoto a little nod before wrapping your arms around him. “You should introduce me to your mom sometime! I would love to meet her!” “She would be glad to meet you too. So you said that lunch was ready right?” You pick your head up from his shoulder and look into his heterochrome eyes. “So you did hear me the first time huh? Hmph… Too late for you now! I’m too comfy to move off of you. “That’s okay.”

Todoroki lets you lay on top of him, even activating his side to give you some warmth which you softly smiled at as you snuggled your face into Shoto’s shoulder. A relaxed sigh comes out of your lips as you start to drift off, slipping towards sleep. Todo smiled softly at you cuteness before falling asleep right after you.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #katsuki bakugou x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #todoroki shoto x reader

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bearseokie · 3 years

Text

boyfriend! oneus

[ gender-neutral! ]

oneus m.list | navi. | nsfw! bf! oneus (M)

Ravn:

selfie game, strong! between his insane visuals and like-minded camera angles, you're never let down by his pretty selfies that he sends you throughout the day. mainly paired with his chin to his chest while he's pouting and a silly caption.

if you think his selfies are good, the way he takes couple pictures? chef's kiss. you're never low on pics to post to social media or to put on your fridge. even the embarrassing ones, but he'll whine about those later.

matching onesies or couple pajamas.

walks up to you just to rest his chin on your head or shoulder and breathe you in.

holds your hand in the way that his entire hand envelops the width of your fingers while you hold on to his thumb.

asks for you to buy him flowers more than he gets them for you. you can't help but want to see his eyes sparkle at the sight of a dozen roses, though.

is probably biting his lip unwillingly but also on purpose. it's a habit you learn to enjoy. he does it when he's focused too, so you always know if he's paying attention or not. as confident as he is, he blushes when you call him out for it.

wraps his arms all the way around your torso and picks you up in a hug just because he can.

will see something out of the corner of his eye and make a whole circle to turn towards it. usually it's a gift of a random item he thinks you'll adore, and you always do. you'll gain a little collection of things you never imagined you'd own being with him.

genuinely not used to physical contact and tends to be rougher than he means to be. he's a temperate boy that has a habit of patting your head or kissing you a little too hard because he's in love and is still learning.

talks your ears off when you're alone. if you don't pull his beanie over his face, he won't shut up.

comes across as intimidating, but is literally the most considerate person. like he will physically reel you backwards just to gently push away an eyelash from your cheek and kiss your lips.

big pant, big shirt. aka his and your big pant and big shirt. sharing is caring. he gets butterflies in his stomach watching your hand caress over the clothes hanging in his closet as you search for something to wear.

unintentional - but completely intentional - lip locking. like he'll bend over to reach across your form laying on the bed when you’re distracted and he’ll be right in your face. before you know it, you're sitting up and your lips are colliding. especially loves doing this in public because your warm face is his rapid beating heart.

will admit to others how much he loves you but will be so stubborn behind closed doors. says things like "are you sure we're talking about the same person? me, wait— me? I'm in love with you? no— no, you're right. I'm guilty."

pouty boy with big, pleading eyes all the time.

runs his fingertips over the lines of your hands. you catch him mimicking them on his own and smiling like an idiot when they match.

take his flannels. do it.

late nights where he bursts through your door while you're sleeping and shakes you awake to run a few lyrics by you. always second guesses himself, but when he sees that you're actually taken back by the words, he gets all smiley bolts back to work.

snuggles into your pillow until you lay down with him, then you're his true cuddle buddy.

Seoho:

dramatically pulls his coats off to put over your shoulders. his constant body heat can warm you up immediately.

takes you on movie dates just to sit in the very back and have heavy make outs with you. like panting, fingers laced in each other's hair, bodies fighting to get into each other’s seats — make out sessions.

his! laugh! the way you can get him to laugh is definitely one of his favorite things in the world, and his smile could light up a room. also has the tendency to laugh at you even when you're not being funny.

pushes his face into the crook of your neck to fall asleep. his breath on your skin can make you feel weird and loved at the same time, but his sound sleeps are worth it. also pushes you to lay on your back so he can curl up beside you and rub his forehead against you.

more chaotic dates where he does things you're afraid of just to show you not to be so scared. hugs you like a koala for the rest of the day.

matching outfits like crazy. even down to the accessories. loves spoiling you with new outfits even if you tell him you hate getting gifts so often.

hugs your waist and lifts you up to reach something instead of getting it down himself.

will have the same pic of you and him set as everything. his phone’s lockscreen, wallpaper, his laptop’s lockscreen, wallpaper, profile pics, it’s the only post on his social media.

so in love that it can come across as icky. blushing cheeks, sweaty palms, a bounce in his step.

mocks you like you’re already an old married couple. but his loving banter comes off as charming.

the saying 'know you like the back of my hand' had to have been written by him, himself, because he does, in fact, know you that well. he knows the different sounds of your sneezes - aka whether you have a cold or not. he knows the change of your morning voice versus the tone you have in the middle of the day. anything going through your mind, this man has down pact.

random night calls where he just goes 'I'm at the door, let me in." because his hands are too full to reach for his key. stumbles in with bags full of snacks and treats just to have you both sit on the floor eating and ranting until dawn.

the softest kisses. and I mean the softest kisses. like michael angelo adding details to his paintings, type soft. you can hardly ever feel them and barely knows he's there until he starts laughing or vibrating from the sudden eye contact you're giving him.

would rather waddle side to side in a back hug than let you go to walk somewhere alone.

has a list of everything he loves to share with you over time. movies, music, random memos in his phone.

included in those phone memos are literally so many details about you that it can make your eyes roll. he has the smallest details noted and little asterisks to remind him to write them down in a physical journal one day, but you might have to do that for him.

a lot quieter than he makes himself out to be. is basically a ghost when you're around him. the only way you really ever know where he is is if he's lugging around a bluetooth speaker with music playing.

messy! hair! he will literally refuse to brush his own hair until you do it for him. loves it more if you just use your fingers to comb his locks.

squinted eyes because he's smiling at you so hard that he'll probably bump into something in the process.

lets you hold both sides of his face in your palms. especially if he's cold. sometimes you can squish.

Leedo:

being with gunhak — it is literally a love novel.

warm eyes that sparkle when he looks at you. you notice it and keep quiet just to bask in his affection, but it’s always the first thing people mention when they talk about your relationship.

can’t help but reach his hand across the table to hold yours while you eat.

scrunches his nose when you say silly things.

the most attentive person when you’re telling a story. will sit with his chin in his palm and his eyes going between your gaze and lips as you speak. makes constant “mhm” and “ohh” sounds to let you know he’s right in the story with you. stops you to laugh at the way you say a specific word. you both spend hours sitting somewhere together just telling stories back and forth until the sun rises or sets.

can’t go a single day without throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you around.

has his hand on your lower back all day. like all day. in public, at home, in bed while you're sleeping. as long as his hand is on your back, you know he’s next to you.

his face is always a hotter temperature than the rest of his body, especially if you’ve been looking at him all day. crimson cheeks, red-tipped ears, reddened lips because he can’t stop kissing you.

sleeps with you laying in between his legs and your head on his chest. you fall asleep to the beat of his heartbeat while he plays with your fingers and listens to your breathing.

puts you in the shopping cart before any items just so he can wheel you around and listen to you laugh when he pretends he’s going to ram into something.

will pull the shirt/jacket/top he was wearing over his head and toss it to you to wear or hug if he’s leaving so you don’t miss him too much.

isn’t extremely good with speaking words to express what he wants to say, so oftentimes you find little notebook pages folded around the house with love notes written on them. him telling you how much he appreciates how much you do for him. him saying ‘i love you’ in different colored ink in different kinds of ways. sometimes a smashed flower in between the pages just for added scents. completely a cheesy romantic with love notes.

likes to let you drive so he can put his elbow against the window and stare at you from across the front of the vehicle. while you’re focused he’s grinning and giggling because it’s ‘super adorable’.

sends flowers to your work at the most inappropriate times in order to keep anyone that’s been flirting with you in their place. very subtle about being protective, and thankfully never has to make large leaps to have others understand you’re unavailable. thinks it’s the best thing in the world when someone is eyeing you and you come running to him to dramatically toss your arms around his neck and place a kiss on his lips.

enjoys having cleverly matching pieces. a pair of earrings shared between the two of you. matching bracelets. soft cotton shirts you can wear on your days off. two blankets of the same designs but different colors.

severely embraces breaking his shyness when it comes to pda. will pull you into his arms and kiss you while walking down the street. lets you sit on his lap in a busy place. carries you on his back around big stores.

works out with you around him. if he wants to do sit ups, you're holding his feet. if he wants to do push ups, you're laying under him giving him kisses every time he comes down.

forehead kisses. temple kisses. cheek kisses. literally all of the softest kisses.

terribly difficult to wake up, but the sound of your voice will draw his lids to open in an instant so he can see your smiling face.

super nervous about the entire relationship so you have to guide him at a reasonable pace. hold his hand first, kiss him first, even say 'i love you' first, but he'll return it all in a beat after you express your love.

Hwanwoong:

would be the one to have that situation where you met by running into each other at full force and had to laugh it off despite how much pain you were both in. he does something like offer to buy you a drink as an apology and then he never leaves your side.

sits with him between your legs and his back pressed into your front so you can hug him around his waist and lean on him.

smells are a huge deal to him. hoards light scented candles and renames them with comic titles or references to your relationship just to make you laugh when he calls them out in conversations.

runs his fingers through your hair as a way of showing affection on a regular basis. if you’re in public, he’ll sneak in a quick kiss just because he isn’t huge on pda.

but not liking pda doesn't mean he won't cling to you behind closed doors. he can't go very long without brushing his skin against your own, even in a subtle way.

physically capable of making meals on his own, or with you, but he's too lazy. enjoy the take out! also huge on getting snack foods to feed you in a romantic way without it being intentional.

quiet. very quiet. he enjoys silence while holding you or waking up in the midst of the night just to hear you sleeping peacefully. it's his solace.

although he gets whiny, he will let you do anything you want to him. test out makeup looks on him, play with his hair, make him dress up for you. just as long as you can reciprocate by going on sweet dates with him or let him read his favorite stories to you, he's all for it.

gets you random, very personal gifts. his attentiveness is insane, so he'll give you something like a better-formed pillow to help you sleep or a journal of your silly inside jokes to keep around when you have to be apart.

pretends he's not emotional during the day only to spill the deepest things to you at night. you're his diary and he loves you for that.

but with his distant state, you're still the one to notice things first. if he's too tired, if he's hungry - you know the tell-tale signs and can quietly get him back on his feet. you’re basically his weakness and muse all at once.

he might be the last one to wake up, but that's just because he enjoys knowing you slept by his side all night.

tilts your head to the side to kiss you because he thinks it's romantic.

doesn't care who you think you are, he will give you a piggyback ride.

does that thing where you'll be doing something important and he'll be sat next to you whispering jokes into your ear to keep you from getting stressed. also has to hold your hand the entire time or else he'll get up.

intuitive to your emotions and feelings. if you're in pain somewhere, he's in pain. if you're laughing, he's laughing.

the most pleasing, deep morning voice ever. doesn't even have to try. it's like two octaves lower than his regular voice and will always give you the shivers.

instead of big things for dates he does tasks like have all of your house chores done when you return or studies up on your school work to help you out. it's his way of showing affection and appreciation. but he does bigger things too like cover your bathroom in flower petals with a nice bath running when you get home.

has a tendency of saying your name the most when he’s sleeping.

makes choreography and dedicates them to you all the time. will tug you into the practice room to show you moves. but then he's giggling uncontrollably and starts complimenting you until you kiss him.

Keonhee:

records everything all the time. has backup storage just so he can film everything you both do or take a thousand pictures. spends literal hours printing out the pictures to make photo albums or put them on his wall so he never has to go a moment without seeing you. carries around a physical, mini album just to stare at while he’s traveling or feels lonely.

loves showering with you. will take the showerhead off of the wall and hold it over you while making lightsaber sounds.

loves the sound of you saying his name more than anything. when he's happy, upset, angry - just a call of his name can settle his emotions. and maybe a kiss too.

will sit or lay somewhere and just stare at you with a big, goofy grin on his face and loving sparkles in his eyes for no particular reason.

claps your hands together before he holds them.

makes music playlists titled with hysterical names that are more distracting than the chaos of the actual list. names them with emojis and such to see if you can code his secret love messages.

his lips are always redder than normal around you. quite literally doesn't know when or how to stop kissing you.

cannot comprehend how he could love someone more than you. it's that dumb love like he'll trip over his own two feet, say your name instead of his own when ordering something, or even intentionally get something he hates just because you like it.

changes the color of the led lights to define the mood. happy, sad, sexy time. the room is a rainbow every week.

contrary to popular belief of the cancer man, he's not clingy until you tell him to be. postpones all physical contact to the last moment when you ask why he's distant and give him consent to holding you whenever he wants. then he never lets you go.

has to be even in height with you ninety percent of the day, even if you're off by a few centimeters. helps you sit on the kitchen counter, hunches to kiss you, lifts you up by your waist.

being on opposite ends of a room while he's doing hand gestures and silently singing you the song stuck in his head.

his most genuine habit is giving away all of his emotions in his eyes. one glance and you know exactly how he feels, even if he isn't speaking about it aloud.

thinks being out in the rain is extremely romantic but will pull you back inside at the first drop because "you might get a cold".

hardly wears clothes when he starts getting seriously comfortable with you. no shirt, maybe some pajama pants, maybe some socks with random patterns on them. if he gets hot at any point, shield your eyes.

pouts without actually pouting. you'll hear a little huff from beside you instead.

put your belongings into the rips of his jeans instead of his pockets. they're 'safe'.

visibly shudders when he gets to hold your hand after a long day.

so many shoulder kisses you can't even keep up with them anymore.

you have a collection of him scrunching his nose when you're trying to get soft couple pictures because he can't take it seriously.

Xion:

if you fall asleep on him at any point during the day, he'll wrap you in his jacket or a blanket around you and carry you to bed. he'll let you rest comfortably while he lays beside you and watches you sleep while running his fingers across your face in a loving way.

sleeps holding your hand no matter what position you're both in.

dates are basically: carnivals to sit at the top of the ferris wheel and make out peacefully, picnics in the park to pick flowers and put them in your hair, going to bookstores just to shuffle through the comics and mangas.

bites you. slowly. he’s not the type to just bite into your skin randomly, more like you’ll get big puppy eyes and know he’s up to something before you feel a little nibble.

competitive in an ‘i’ll let you win if you give me a kiss’ way. guess who always wins. sike it’s him because he can use it as an excuse to make you pouty and then kiss you until you can’t even pretend to be angry anymore.

loves singing to you and only you.

hand-makes you jewelry because he finds it more endearing than buying them. plus it's sentimental.

hates blushing in front of others, but you can make him blush from a few words. loves the pet names you come up with. they sound like common conversation pieces so no one questions why you said them until they notice his face is nearly crimson.

unintentionally does romantic stuff. plays ballads over a speaker while prancing around until you take his hand and dance with him. finds a rose bush and gently clips a single flower to put in a vase for you. absentmindedly kisses your knuckles when he sees you for the first time in a while.

has the hardest time showing emotions, but does have the tendency to cry when parting or send you chain texts about how much he misses you when he's away.

random cheek kisses throughout the day.

sweater paws because you're both wearing his large hoodies and holding hands.

has more soft objects than you've ever witnessed a person own. now they're partially yours, so choose a stuffed animal.

random store dates where you go inside and find the strangest items you both fall in love with and get to put on display at home. you know when you go to someone's house and see an object that makes you question how it got there? he gets a lot of those for the two of you. 'conversation pieces', he says.

remembers cheesy quotes to tell you throughout the day to make you smile. if he wasn't in love, he'd never think twice about memorizing them.

probably thinking about kissing you every second of every day, but he uses his kisses wisely.

steals your shirts to sleep with when he's away because they smell like you.

cannot handle more than holding your hand in public at first, but he'll learn to love pda very quickly if you enjoy it.

where has all his phone's storage gone? oh, they're just pictures of you sleeping.

so adorned by you that his eyes literally sparkle, even if you're in his peripheral.

#oneus #oneus headcanon #oneus headcanons #oneus imagines #oneus scenarios #ravn #kim youngjo #seoho #lee seoho #leedo #kim gunhak #kim geonhak #hwanwoong #yeo hwanwoong #keonhee #lee keonhee #xion #son dongju #oneus.headcanon

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jinkicake · 4 years

Text

Freaky On Camera

Osamu, Oikawa, Sakusa reacting to their s/o sending them the lyrics to Doja Cat’s ‘Cyber Sex’ (like the tiktok challenge).

Miya Osamu x Reader

Oikawa Tooru x Reader

Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

I hope this is fine Anon~ This is my first time writing Sakusa so I hope it isn’t too ooc,,,, I really like him LOL. Also, I don’t support Miss Doja or condone any of her actions because that bitch never really apologized for the shit she pulled. However, her music does slap.

WC- 1,485

~~~

Miya Osamu

I wanna get freaky on camera

‘Samu would know what tiktok is but I don’t know if he would be on it,,,,,

He would be familiar with it because of Atsumu, you can’t tell me that mf does not make thirst trap tiktoks that gain hundreds of thousands of likes

So Osamu would know the gist of the app but he probably has zero clue of what happens on it

He’d take your snaps so seriously like this mf would actually think you’re going to sext him LMFAOO

Please, he would be so pissed when he finds out they are lyrics and not your actual thoughts

His reaction would be so funny, it would be dirty talk like ‘how badly do you want it?’

And then you’d post it on tiktok and it would go viral because of how intense his reaction is

Osamu only finds out because Atsumu shows him your video, his brother would be like “’Samu you were on my fyp!”

And Osamu is like “tf is a fyp”

Osamu would be sooo mad, he’d start ignoring you, you’d have to stroke his ego a little bit to get him to forgive you

“Osamu.” Silence. “O-sa-mu.” Silence. You puff your cheeks out in frustration and stare the side of your boyfriend’s face, he refuses to even look at you. “I’m sorry.” You apologize and Osamu turns to look at you, narrowing his eyes to pierce you in the process.

“Look at this comment. ‘chill out dude, it’s just some song lyrics’ It got twelve thousand likes.” Your boyfriend complains and you move to sit next to him on his bed though, with the way Osamu is moving away from you, he would rahter cuddle with the wall before he touches you.

“Yeah but the top comment says that I’m so lucky because you’re such a cute boyfriend! It has forty thousand likes!” You try and compromise and Osamu pouts a little bit. “Everyone is just jealous that they don’t have an Osamu, and I do!” You lean down and presses kisses all over his face, Osamu scrunches his nose.

“You want to know why I was so mad?” He wraps his arms around your waist and brings you into his chest, laying you down on top of him.

“Why?” You ask cautiously and continue to stare him in the eye.

“Because I got a boner from those pictures,” Osamu confesses and you don’t know whether you want to coo in awe or laugh out loud.

“Seriously?” You refuse to believe it.

“Seriously.” He confirms and you laugh so hard his entire house shakes, you don’t stop laughing even when tears are streaming down your cheeks and when Osamu pushes you off of him to sulk against his wall.

“I’m flattered, my sweet precious love~” You coo but can’t help the chuckles that leave your lips. “Awe, baby, are you mad at me again?” You poke Osamu’s arm and he growls in annoyance. “Let me make it up to you, I’ll take care of all your boner problems.”

Not before you laugh for the next twenty minutes, after that, then you will start to do stroke his cock ego.

Oikawa Tooru

Wish you were here right now, all of the things I’d do

You don’t think the Tiktok legend Oikawa Tooru wouldn’t recognize what you’re doing the second you send it?? Because he would,,

Let’s say you do try it, you’re not going to get that far

After you send the first lyric, Oikawa will literally send you the rest of the lyrics with his own pictures to match

You don’t even have time to process that he overtook your challenge

I feel like, Oikawa would then post his photos later and tell his followers that he did the challenge better than you

You best believe his comments are full of people kissing his ass and telling him how cute he is

The tiktok went viral, by the way, Oikawa is a tiktok star

“Why can’t you let me have my moment Tooru?”

“Because I do it better, (Y/N)!”

Oikawa would then redo another challenge with you and make sure you’re the star in it so you can have your five minutes of fame. It would also go viral, but not as viral as his videos of him and Matsukawa

I wanna touch on you. You send Oikawa a picture of yourself as you lay back on your bed, your mind ruled with boredom. The curiosity of how Oikawa would react keeps clouding your mind. Before you even get a second to take the next picture Oikawa has already snapped you back.

You click on the little red square and screenshot the mirror picture Oikawa sent you. His back is arched like he is trying to break it and his head is tilted at an odd angle. You see me in my room.

You barely get enough time to screenshot the picture before Oikawa sends another. This time when you open it, it is him and Matsukawa. It’s another mirror pic and their hands are curved into little hearts. Wish you were here right now.

You decided to let Oikawa take over the challenge and just wait patiently for his next snap, each picture he sends gathers more people. In this snap, it is him, Matsukawa and Hanamaki. It’s just a simple selfie with all of them cheesing like the dorks that they are. All of the things I’d do.

In the back of your mind, you start to wonder where Iwaizumi is. The next picture comes just as quickly as the first three and this time, it is just Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Mainly Oikawa with Iwaizumi in the back trying to practice his serve. I wanna get freaky on camera.

The next photo doesn’t come for another ten minutes, this time it is a Hanamaki centered photo. It’s a selfie with his bright smile and in the background, Oikawa is getting smack upside the head by Iwaizumi. I love when we get freaky on camera. ;-)

Sakusa Kiyoomi

I wanna touch on you

Sakusa is the type to always be on his phone and never answer your texts

He’d purposely swipe away your notification until he wants to open it, you’ve seen him do it with your own eyes

When he finally does open your snaps, he leaves them on open

LMFAO then he will text you three hours later asking if you had dinner yet, caring boyfriend thingz~

If he does choose to respond to your snaps it’ll be something like ‘I’ve seen that before, try something else’

Or he will tease you and say ‘aren’t you supposed to send that to your boyfriend?’

Like Sakusa,,, a-aren’t you my boyfriend? TTT

I think he would screenshot your photos just to have them so he can always look at them and be soft

Or he would zoom in really close on your face and make it his lock screen so it’d look like you’re trapped in his screen

Someone would ask ‘who’s that on your phone’ and he’d just be like ‘my ugly s/o’ LOL

“Please, Kiyoomi.” You whine and stare at your boyfriend with puppy dog eyes. Sakusa dips his dark-haired head and stares at you back, his face emotionless. He sighs and goes back to scrolling through his phone. “Please do the tiktok trend with me or at least pretend to react.” You beg and Sakusa refrains from rolling his eyes, he glances at you once more and nods his head.

“Fine.” At his words you reach up and kiss his temple, your heart flutters when Sakusa leans into your touch. “What do I do?”

“Okay, so I am going to send you some snaps and you just have to send your reaction to me back in a snap.” You explain and Sakusa purse his lips into a little pout.

“Why do I have to do this?” He asks and you lay back to take your first snap.

“Because you love me~”

Much to your dismay, your answer is met with silence.

After you send the pictures you watch your boyfriend with hawk eyes at how he reacts. His face doesn’t change at all. He tilts his head in curiosity at one of the pictures and you note how he screenshots every single one of them. Sakusa glances at you and when you eagerly nod back at him he sends you a reply, a simple picture of his face and his familiar mask covering more than half of it.

The photo has a simple caption, busu.

“Can I post your picture?” You ask and Sakusa sighs, it’s not like it’s going to blow up right?

“Yes.”

Wrong choice Sakusa. The tiktok does blow up, and it’s only because all the comments are filled with how hot Sakusa is despite only being able to see his eyes and up.

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane

#miya osamu x reader #oikawa toru x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #osamu x reader #oikawa x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

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illneverrecover · 4 years

Text

call you mine (M) | changkyun

➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: friends with benefits!AU, non Idol!AU, angst, smut, fluff. ➛word count: 2,741 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: idk this is truly some sweet soft shit, mentions of alcohol, friends with benefits, standing sex, slight rough sex, biting/marking because clearly I have a kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of Mingi!!, lots of kissing, soft clown Chaingang truly. ➛summary: Changkyun knew he ruined your friends with benefits arrangement when he let his feelings be known, and now you’ve left him on read for weeks. So he does the only thing he can to stay sane - he religiously watches your Instagram stories. ➛notes: Another first for me - my first Monsta X fic! I’ve played around with writing Changkyun for a while now, mostly because I live to torture @taetaesbaebaepsae (which she deserves from all the PAINFUL and RUDE Baekhyun shit she’s written for me). However, she decided to actively commission her own demise, because she stays not listening to Namjoon and refuses to love herself. I’m glad I finally got a chance to take a stab at writing her ult, and I hope I did him justice! Enjoy your tomfoolery, Kristin! 💖 ➛song: Call You Mine - The Chainsmokers & Bebe Rexha | Horizon - I.M. & Elhae

It’s pathetic, he knows.

The way he can’t stop watching, the way he seeks your face out in an app full of millions of others. The way he can’t get you out of his bed, his head, his thoughts.

He fucked up, scared you off, and now he’s left with the aftermath of his own stupidity. Watching you through a screen to fight the withdrawals off, to keep his heart beating.

Changkyun knows you would laugh at him if you saw what he was doing.

Watching your Instagram stories is the only reason he’s heard you laugh in over two weeks, the only way he’s been able to see your eyes light up, your lips curve into a salacious grin. Things he fucking missed, thought he would have plenty of time to indulge in - until he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and ruined it.

He had taken you back to his place after a few shots of whisky at the dingy local bar, hands and mouth unable to leave your skin - just like the hundreds of times before. It had been four months since you had started this friends with benefits relationship, and despite having freedom to see whomever he wanted, Changkyun found himself only starving for you. So hungry that he couldn’t stand another moment in that place, watching you share your smile with anyone other than him. So he had tugged you close, nipped at your ear, told you that you were so damn beautiful that he couldn’t stand there another minute without you coming undone around him.

You had smirked, slid your hand down the front of his pants, grabbing his cock like you owned it, purring out the words “prove it” before following him outside, just like the hundreds of times before.

Pressed up against his wall, his pelvis flush with yours, Changkyun whispered filth in your ears as he ground up against you, swallowing your moans in greedy kisses. Desperate fingers had pulled at your top, freeing your breasts for him to worship as he worked your skirt up around your waist, thrusting his clothed length against your core until you were whining.

Changkyun always promised to take his time with you, to work you over until you were drunk on his touch and pleading for more - but you never let him, always knowing the right thing to say to get his gaze to go dark and lust to turn frantic, to unzip his jeans and press inside your dripping cunt right there in the hallway.

Just like the hundreds of times before.

You had come around him, digging your nails in his back so hard it left marks, made him growl your name against your collarbone as his thrusts picked up speed to fuck you through the high. You urge him on in the way only you can manage, begging for his release, whispering how much you want his come deep in your cunt. Biting down against the skin, he had spilled inside you with a final groan, hips twitching as he pumped you full of him, forehead resting against your shoulder.

Instead of pulling away immediately, Changkyun remained collapsed against you, breathing heavy. You had smacked at his shoulder, but he just chuckled, arms adjusting to continue a firm hold of your legs as he stayed inside of you, trapping you against his body and the wall.

“What are you doing, Kyun?” scoffing, you had grasped his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “I let you fuck me dirty against the wall without even demanding you buy me food after. Least you can do is let me get cleaned up.”

He had gazed up at you then, eyes piercing as they looked through you, and your heart clenched tightly in your chest.

He knew he shouldn’t say it. Knew it would scare you off. And yet….

“I would, you know.” Swallowing thickly, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Take you to go get food. If you - I mean, if you wanted. If you’d let me.”

It was like he could see the carefully crafted defenses go up, the pain etching your brow and making your eyes go cold. Anxiety flooded his veins as you wiggled out of his grasp, sliding your clothes back into place as you moved towards his bathroom.

“You don’t mean that,” you murmured, faking a smile. “You know what this is, Kyun.”

“I do mean that!” He knew he sounded too eager, too pitiful, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I’d take you out to dinner. Or,” following you, he paused in the doorway, watching you appraise yourself in the mirror. “We could just get take-out and go somewhere private, drive to a park, bring a blanket and some booze, eat somewhere no one would know or bother us.”

Your answering laugh had sounded wrong, like it had cost you something - like it was the last thing you had wanted to do.

“Like a picnic? Changkyun, you’re saying you want to take me on a picnic? Like a proper date?”

Stuttering, he tried to explain himself, but you had cut him off with a single wave.

“Listen, we both know I’m not that kind of girl, and you don’t want me to be.” Leaning forward, you had pressed a kiss against his mouth, your eyes somber when you had pulled away, moved towards the door.

“What if I do?” His voice broke, wanting to reach out but his arms remaining stiff at his sides. “What if I want you to be that kind of girl, with me?”

Tears stung your eyes, your stomach sinking like you had been punched. You couldn’t do this, couldn’t handle the inevitable disappointment that would come when you got your hopes up.

“I’ll see you around,” you threw over your shoulder before shutting the door, and shutting him out.

Just like the hundreds of times before.

It had been two weeks now since he last saw you in person. It wasn’t for lack of trying; texting you at all hours had proven fruitless, even when he tried to send the usual ‘you up’ message like he didn’t just lay his heart out on the line. You responded airily, non committal, and he knew what you were doing.

You were trying to let him down easy.

So here he was, phone glued to his hand as he scrolled through to find your picture, clicking on it to see if there was any update. You didn’t post a bunch in your feed, but you had a tendency to update your stories often - filling them with silly memes and cute selfies, little videos of you going about your day. Cuddling with your cat, attempting to cook something for lunch. His favorite was when you would do tarot readings for your followers; the way your face would turn serious as you read the cards, passionate fire in your eyes as you helped deliver the message to its owner.

Seeing you that excited and genuine did something to him, made his chest feel like it was going to explode.

He knows you can tell that he’s watching, can see the icon of his profile showing up at the bottom of the video under “seen by.” He can only imagine what you’re thinking when you see it - that he’s a loser, this friend with benefits who turned lovesick puppy, but he can’t make himself care. It’s the only way he feels close, can pretend you’re still in his life.

He never thought that he would need you, now all he wants is to see you - for you to answer him, to come back to him.

Changkyun still sends texts, unable to stop his fingers from reaching out, despite knowing you’ll shut him down. He calls sometimes too, late at night when his blood is more whisky than plasma, though you never answer those. Instead he listens to your voicemail, eyes closed to stop the world from spinning, letting your voice lull him to sleep.

He convinces himself he’s fine with this arrangement, that things would be alright. He can just miss you from afar, observe you live your life through the pixels of a screen. That watching your stories is enough for him, will keep him afloat.

Until he sees you with someone else.

It was another Friday night he was spending alone, half drunk and on his phone, looking for your picture. Taking a deep breath, he had felt his heart stop when he saw the rainbow ring adorning your profile photo, meaning you had updated your story. Sighing, he tapped it, hoping that it would be a few videos so he could pretend for just a moment that he was beside you instead of wasting space on his bed.

The first clip was a selfie, your heavily lidded eyes staring seductively at the camera through your lashes, making his pulse jump and pants tighten. The caption “gonna get drunk tonight!” scrolled across the image, right below the pout of your lips. The next was a small video of you making a drink, giggling about the mixture of tequila and soju you were tossing in your cup, whispering to the camera how it was going to get you ‘all the way fucked up’. But it was the third clip that had his chest heaving, his lungs forgetting how to work.

You were walking out your door, a few people cluttering your front porch as you asked if anyone had a light. Some tall red headed kid - Changkyun refused to acknowledge him as anything more than that - had shouted out, and you squealed as you ran up to him, sliding directly onto his knee before switching the camera into selfie mode to capture the two of you. The next clip was you in his lap, one of your delicate hands sliding through his hair as he gave you a big dopey grin, a cigarette perched on your lips as you cooed at him and told him just how cute he was.

Fuck. He knew that look of yours, knew those moves. Knew exactly what you were doing, what you were hoping to do with that fucking Mingi kid, and he couldn’t stand it, not anymore.

Taking a few deep pulls directly from the liquor bottle, his fingers flew over the keys of his phone, sending you text after text - all of which were ignored. He knew calling would be pointless, that you would rather light yourself on fire than answer your phone - especially at a party - and he felt desperation creep up his throat, choking him.

Changkyun couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let you just forget about him.

Clicking back onto Instagram, he started sending you responses to the story video as he got dressed, throwing on the nearest pair of jeans and sliding on his boots.

<Baby?>

<I’m on my way. Don’t take that kid to your bed.>

It took painfully long for the Lyft to show up, and he gritted his teeth the whole route there, knee bouncing to stop himself from demanding the driver to go faster, to just hurry the fuck up and get to you.

When the car had pulled into your neighborhood, he tried to send another message, instead clicking a video. Too frustrated to change it back, he lets it record, his voice low and pained.

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

You were alone on the deck when your phone started vibrating, the ding of an Instagram direct message making you click the app, eyes widening in surprise when you saw the number of notifications.

Changkyun, all from him.

Awestruck, you scrolled through every line, your heart throbbing with each word he had written.

You didn’t think he cared, not like that. Sure, he missed the sex, but that’s what you expected. That’s what all of them wanted when they sent you late night texts, when they called your phone at three in the morning. Empty promises and broken vows were what kept you company in the dark, when they’d predictably leave you alone with an ache between your legs and in your chest. None of them really wanted you, cared about you. After a few weeks of ghosting, they’d all disappear into thin air like expected, and your heart would harden just a bit more.

But now…

Another chime pulls you from your thoughts, eyes flicking back to the light of your phone. Instead of another direct message, it’s a notification that Changkyun had updated his story for the first time in months.

Shaking fingers slide against the screen, your vision blurring as you take in the shadowed back seat of another person’s car, the only light neon pink from the sign of the Lyft drivers decal. For a moment, all you can hear is the quiet chattering of a distant radio, of someone breathing heavily.

And then his voice croaking over the speaker, raspy with need.

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

The video fades just as a car pulls up to your curb, a flurry of movement as Changkyun climbs out, stumbles towards you. He all but collapses into your arms, his breath dripping with liquor, eyes reddened but burning fiercely.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, hands coming to cup your face, thumb dragging against the smooth skin of your cheek. “I want to take you on a picnic.”

You laugh, though it comes out more like a sob. “What? What are you talking about? Did you call a Lyft and come all the way across town to tell me that, you clown?”

His finger taps against your lips once, twice. “Shh. Just let me-” he sighs, stomping a foot. “Let me talk.”

He waits until you nod before continuing, words surging from his mouth as if he couldn’t hold back a second longer.

“I came all the way here because I want to take you on a picnic. I want to buy you food and take you on cute little dates and do cheesy things that make you smile at me like you are right now,” he grins, pulling you until your chest rests against his own. “I’m here because I couldn’t stand you ignoring me anymore. I meant everything I said - that I miss you, that I want to be with you, if you’ll give me the chance. I want to call you mine.”

Pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes fall shut, his voice fervent and barely more than a whisper.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Tears brim your eyes, and you fight every old wound that tells you to shove him away, to call him a liar. Instead you allow yourself to follow your gut, your heart for what feels like the first time, leaning back to give him a watery smile in return.

“I love you too, Changkyun.”

His mouth immediately lands on yours, tongue eagerly tracing the seam of your lips until it’s slipping inside, tasting every inch of you, ravenous and unsatisfied until your knees are shaking. He’s walking you backwards towards the door, tugging at your clothes, and you giggle at his impatience.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, palm pressing against his shoulder to hold him back for a moment. “But listen, if I give you a chance, that means you have to stop stalking my Instagram, you creep. And don’t try to deny it, I see you all over my stories, lurking around.”

He chuckles then, nipping at your bottom lip as his eyes darken. “Please, don’t act like you don’t love the attention,”

Pushing the door open, he guides you inside, mouth working over your neck, arms wrapped around your waist until your back is flattened against the wall.

“Plus, there’s no need, now that I got you,” he confesses, his nose swiping against yours gently before he captures your lips between his own, hitching your legs to drape around his waist as he grinds against you, humming words of praise.

Just like the hundreds of times before, but now as his.

#changkyun x reader #IM x reader #changkyun smut #IM smut #monsta x smut #monsta x scenario #changkyun scenario #I.M. scenario #I.M. smut #I.M. x reader #ksmutclub #plotsofpastel #im changkyun #monsta x #monsta x fanfic #taetaesbaebaepsae #my writing #fic: call you mine #fic: cym

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what-big-teeth · 4 years

Text

Admire (Male Naga ; Fic Raffle)

And done! @glugenash requested a meet-cute between a male reader and a naga of any gender. I decided to go with a male naga and let my imagination take hold to make this wonderful idea even cuter. I hope you all enjoy this fic! Male Reader (POV) x Male Monster If there’s one place you can truly relax while curling up with a good book, it’s the library.

Ever since you moved into town for a better job opportunity, you attempted to combat the new stressors that turned up as a result. Exercise, meditation, doing the bare minimum on the weekends. Nothing could compare to the public library and its innate charm. This is why you’re seated at your favorite table.

Tucked into one of the historical building’s many corners beside a large window, there’s always just enough sunlight to happily bask in and use while reading. These simple reasons—and the woodsy, vanillin scent of the surrounding book collection—are why you’ve decided to revisit an old series. Something about embracing a nostalgic memory at your table alleviates your pent-up stress like nothing else.

Which is why the sensation of being watched feels so foreign.

You’ve attempted to look around as discreetly as possible. But your eyes haven’t encountered anything out of the ordinary. Just the usual, book-lined shelves and wooden lectern holding an old, massive dictionary.

Still, you can’t fully shake the feeling. Your gut has rarely led you astray, which is why you keep glancing around. After a fleeting moment, you think you see a dark shape shrink away behind a nearby shelf. You stand up, intent on finding out who your odd observer is. But an insistent buzzing from your jeans pocket breaks your focus. Knowing that your library hasn’t made the full transition to a ‘loud facility’ yet, you step away from your spot, leaving your book behind to take the call outside.

Unsurprisingly, it’s work. Or rather, your boss. One of your co-workers has taken ill suddenly, and he needs you to fill in for her shift until he recovers. There’ll be extra pay as compensation, which helps to sweeten the deal. But when your boss mentions the project your co-worker has been toiling over for the last few weeks, you silently wince. You honestly would rather not take on the extra work, but the extra money would really help.

Your boss says your name in a questioning manner. Looks like you accidentally zoned out.

“Sure thing,” you say with a forced, cheerful tone. You can already feel the mounting stress that’ll have you on edge. With a final, merry “thanks!” and farewell, the call ends. This new development calls for some extra self-care.

You head back inside the library, making your way over to the built-in cafe. It’s a welcomed new addition, especially since they make some of the best, homebrew tea and pastries you’ve ever had. With your cup of honeyed chamomile and warmed confection in hand, you return to your sunshine laden table.

Your book is in its usual spot, but it’s been closed with a tasseled bookmark keeping track of your place. You didn’t pick up one while greeting Jason at the circulation desk. After mentally marking which page you left off on, you untuck it from between the pages. The design is, well, it’s amazing. Hand drawn swirls of complimentary colors balance each other out while being lined with careful, fine-tipped black lines. And the tassel is uniquely soft to the touch, the threads feeling similar to silk. You’re so drawn to the workmanship of the bookmark that you almost overlook the neatly folded piece of paper on the table.

The Farandale Chronicles is one of my favorite series. If you’d like to read something similar, I’d like to suggest the Crystal of Might series, written by Malkus Morak. — D

You re-read the note a few times. But no matter how much you attempt to place the neat handwriting, you can’t. There isn’t anything untoward about the suggestion, honestly. And the bookmark is an unexpected, if creative gift. Decision made, you replace the bookmark and head over to the Science Fiction section.

It doesn’t take long to find the suggested book and read the blurb on the jacket’s interior. You can’t deny that it sounds like something right up your alley. Even better, there are three more books in the series.

“Think I will try this out,” you mutter to yourself. “Thanks for the suggestion, D.”

You bundle the new book together with your old favorite, being cautious of your food, and fall in line before the circulation desk. It doesn’t take long for you to reach the front and greet the tawny, curly-haired minotaur behind the counter with a smile.

“How are things going, Jason?” He nods in reply, stalwart as ever as he carefully checks both books for possible damage before checking them out to you.

“Three weeks, as usual,” he murmurs with a deep voice. He gestures to the new book you’ve decided to read. “Should I put the sequel on hold for you?”

“That’d be great!”

After nimbly using the keyboard to complete your request, he hands both books to you with a gentle puff of air.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

Wetting your lips, you tug the handwritten note from between the cover and first page of Morak’s book.

“Would you happen to know whose handwriting this is?”

Jason gently takes the note from you, his warm brown eyes scanning the contents. With a small cough, he hands it back to you.

“Sorry, I don’t. But I’m glad they wrote on a slip of paper instead of damaging the book.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Ever since you met him, Jason’s always been a stickler for the rules when it comes to the library. Quiet yet firm. You pocket the note, being careful to not crease it any further.

“That’s fine,” you say. “It was worth a shot, anyway.”

“Be sure to finish your food while on site,” he says. “The Director is still leery about folks taking off with the cafe’s food.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, smiling. “There’s a bench outside that called to me when I stepped out earlier. Take care.”

As you leave with your new reading materials and food, you can’t stop the thrill of excitement that wells up inside you. Besides being a place of reprieve, you beloved library has provided an interesting mystery as well. And it’s one you intend to solve.

_______________________________________________

Like clockwork, you return the same day next week. Thankfully, your boss was kind enough to give you the weekend off after you took on your duties and that of your sick co-worker. It gives you just enough time to destress at the library. This time, you make a beeline for the cafe, ordering some calming tea and a new, but delectable looking pastry. Jason greets you at the circulation desk and checks out Molak’s second book to you. Once you’ve checked that your usual spot hasn’t been taken, you swiftly lay claim with your purchased items and settle in your seat.

After drinking your tea and eating your pastry, you find yourself feeling better. You open the hardback’s cover, highly interested in seeing what’ll happen to the protagonists next. But two slips of paper flutter out from the book, like before. The material is thicker this time around, similar to reinforced sketchbook paper. Your eyes widen as you realize why.

The subject of the drawing is someone you know too well. It’s you. The sketch depicts a past you sitting where you are now, looking content with a soft smile on your face as you read. Little details jump out as you take in the entirety of the work. The slight dents on the side of the old table you graze your hand over time and time again. The way you hold a book that you find immensely but surprisingly pleasing. The almost starstruck expression lighting up your features as you leave this world for another while reading…

Underneath, in familiar elegant writing, the caption reads ‘Entranced Beauty’. Heat wells up within your cheeks as you read the words over and over again. Your fingertip glides against the lettering as you pick up the other slip of paper from the carpeted floor.

There have been many times I’ve wanted to tell you how wonderful you look when you’re lost in your own world. But I’m afraid that, verbally, words fail me. At least this skill of mine can say more than what I could ever hope. For a while now, I’ve hoped I could be invited to come along with you as another book takes hold of your imagination. But I refuse to think that such lofty hopes can be achieved, considering what I am. I’m merely glad that my suggestion was pleasing to you, and I hope I can continue to provide doors for you to walk through when you need a break from this world. — D

Your heart pounds loudly inside your chest and head as the heat in your cheeks spread throughout your whole body. All you can think about is discovering who your admirer is and meeting them face to face. After all, someone who can write and such sweet thoughts and draw so beautifully can’t be as bad as they think. With this thought as encouragement, you find Molak’s collection and take the third book of his series from the shelf. You wait in line behind a couple, a gorgon and gargoyle, as Jason helps them with their items. Once they’re taken care of, you step up to the circulation desk and set the book down.

“Find everything you were looking for?” he asks.

You’re tempted to say ‘yes’, but stop short.

“No,” you say. “I...I need your help.”

You show Jason the sketch and note, asking once again if he happens to know anything. After all, the note and sketch had to be put in place before you checked out the second book. And all holds are reserved behind the circulation desk for all patrons.

A strange silence falls between the two of you. It’s broken by Jason coughing into his closed fist as he averts his gaze.

“You do know something, don’t you?” you murmur.Jason glances your way before letting his eyes drop to the computer screen in front of him.

“I get it.” You pause to reign in your voice, surprised at the sudden loudness of it. “I understand you’re trying to protect D, especially because they feel like they can’t face me. But you know me, Jason. I won’t hurt them. I just want to meet them and tell them my appreciation.”

Once more, you bring out the sketch and place it on the circulation desk before you. “Please, help me.”

Jason’s gaze finds the sketch and settles on it. He finally lets out a soft huff of air then rubs the back of his neck with his hand.

“I didn’t realize how deeply D fell for you,” he says. “I thought it was just a crush. Alright. I’ll help you out. Not only do you deserve a happy ending, but so does D. Just...be gentle with him, alright? He’s been through a lot.”

“I will,” you say, letting your words carry your promise. “Thank you, Jason.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” he mutters. “Gonna have to see how this goes, first. Alright, D always comes like clockwork on Wednesday evenings...”

You take Jason at his word and return to the library at the time and day he suggested. Sure, it involved rearranging your work schedule somewhat, but your now-well co-worker was more than happy to return the favor you showed her. Probably helps that she’s somewhat of a romantic and readily agreed after you explained the situation to her.With careful steps, you make your way towards your usual spot. The last few rays of the setting sun fall onto the table and the naga sitting at it.

The quiet breath you’re taking in stalls at the sight.

With rich, golden brown skin, you can’t help but wonder why D would think himself unattractive. More so thanks to his jet black hair, which is pulled back into a bun, and his matching scales. Even the slight creme of his underbelly, which you can barely make out due to his button-down shirt, is charming. Remembering Jason’s advice, you carefully approach the table as he remains lost in a book held in his clawed hands. It’s the third book in Molak’s fantasy series. You can’t help but smile at the realization.

“Excuse me,” you say.

D startles, tensing at your soft voice. His pupils dilate somewhat in reply as he looks at you. With him looking head on at you, you notice the scaled skin on the sides of his neck. A hood, like that of a cobra. He looks close to bolting right then and there, but you gently press on.

“By chance, are you D?”

D gulps down a few breaths of air.

“N-no, I’m…”

Your body intuitively moves, laying a gentle hand on his upper arm in what you hope is a soothing gesture.

“I want the same thing,” you say. “I want to let you into my world so that we can make one of our own. Together.”

The scaled hood at his neck flares somewhat, but you don’t feel any fear. If anything, you’re entranced. How can such a charming, handsome naga think he’s anything less? After a few tense moments, D finally relaxes then nods.

“I...I am D.”

He meets your gaze, and you almost feel yourself fall into the molten gold of his eyes.

“I didn’t want you to know because not too many people want anything to do with me. My lineage is from a King Cobra clan, which makes me venomous. And that tends to make others uncomfortable. I-I didn’t want you to feel the same, but I couldn’t hide how I felt about you after I first saw you a few months ago. Jason thought...he suggested I could let you know anonymously and I agreed. I thought that would be best. I’m just surprised you’d want to seek me out.”

You can’t help but smile while gently gripping D’s upper arm.

“You left me with an amazing mystery to solve. And as much as you want to know me, I found myself wanting to know the person behind the ‘D’ moniker. I still do, if that’s alright with you.”

D gives you a soft smile in return, which reveals a hint of his sharp fangs. They’re rather cute, just like the rest of him. He stands up and extends a hand towards you.

“Then, let me officially introduce myself. I’m Danilo.”

You take his hand and shake it while giving him your name. When he attempts to pull his hand away, you gently squeeze it. Danilo’s breath catches as you maneuver your fingers so they twine with his.

“B-by chance,” he nearly squeaks out, “do you like Filipino food? I know a place that serves dishes similar to what I grew up with back home.”

“I haven’t had it before,” you say, “but I’m excited to try it out. I hope you don’t mind acting as my culinary tour guide.”

Danilo gives you another soft smile as he huffs out a laugh.

“Not at all.”

You both head towards the circulation desk, where you see Jason positively beaming at the two of you. As Danilo tells you about his work as a graphic designer and animator, you find yourself hanging on his every word. As he hands Jason the third and final book of the trilogy, you smile.

You can’t wait to see what else you both have in common.

#monster boyfriend #monster/human #monster romance #exophilia #naga boyfriend #terato #300 Follower Raffle #I hope you all enjoy!

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tardis-stowaway · 5 years

Text

Ten years after the Not-pocalypse, Adam Young, age 21 and recently graduated from university:

-Works in a crappy retail job and lives in a tiny, crappy flat in London

-The crappy flat has no sound insulation, so he’s always hearing the absurd amount of movement from the people in the flat above and the really loud but not quite intelligible conversations from the people in the flat next door. It’s a long way to the nearest public park, and he misses the green of home.

-Is not all that good at his customer service job, with the exception that if a customer is irrationally angry about something, he says he wants to make sure he understands the problem and repeats their complaint back to them with this look in his eyes, and they universally back down and often apologize. His coworkers love him for it. Everything else is just drudgery.

-Single, despite his best efforts. Okay, maybe not his best efforts, but some efforts.

-Knows that his childhood was uncommonly idyllic at least partly due to his powers. He’s not entirely sure how his life went quite so off the rails lately.

-Maybe his powers have faded gradually since he rejected his destiny, or maybe it’s just that on some level he absorbed the expectation that being in one’s early 20’s means being broke and a little lost, and the expectation made it happen whether he wanted it or not.

-Or maybe he just should’ve chosen a more employable course of study at uni instead of comparative religion. In his defense, it seemed relevant to his life.

-Spends much of his free time on climate crisis activism. He’ll be damned (ha) if he stood against the forces of Heaven and Hell, the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse, and his own birthright to preserve the continuing existence of humanity on the Earth only for humans to blunder into destroying themselves unintentionally through greed and shortsighted decisions.

-He’s been doing this since he was twelve, when Brian sent the Them’s group text an article about the group Extinction Rebellion with the caption “named for us?? :)” Adam had laughed, then actually read the article. Within a week he’d convinced the Them and a dozen of their classmates to show up at the next town council meeting with a list of sustainability demands.

-No matter how many civil disobedience events he takes part in, he never seems to get arrested. Adam suspects it’s his supernatural entity privilege. Pepper says it’s probably mostly that he’s white and great at charming his way out of trouble.

-He’s still friends with all of the Them, but they don’t live especially close together. He does have a flatmate, an American who Adam met at uni.

-At this point you, a genre-savvy reader of much Good Omens fic and meta, are probably seeing the word “American” and thinking that Adam is flatmates with Warlock Dowling. For once, you are wrong.

-Adam’s flatmate is Jesus.

-Not Jesus Christ, but a young man named Jesus Dominguez, pronounced the Spanish way (like hay-soos).

-Jesus is from Southern California, and he talks more than a little bit like a surfer stereotype. He’s got warm brown skin, shoulder-length dark hair in perpetually-mussed waves, and a little beard. He’s kinda leaning into the look to mess with people, but it’s also the same style found on at least a third of the other male-presenting hipsters in London.

-When he learned that he was going to share a flat with someone named Jesus, Adam called Crowley and Aziraphale. He’s never been gladder that he stayed in touch with them, because he NEEDED someone who understood how the Antichrist and Jesus sharing a flat sounded like the setup for a joke or a sitcom. Crowley did indeed laugh out loud, then told Adam that as a fellow lapsed member of the forces of Hell, he could personally recommend sharing quarters with a heavenly adversary. Aziraphale just muttered “oh, stop” at Crowley.

-Adam moved to London because it was easier to get to the important protests there, and because he was curious. He spent the first six months desperately homesick for Tadfield. The city was so crowded but somehow he still felt so alone, other than Jesus.

-Then a midnight fire-alarm in their building sent him and Jesus into the streets along with dozens of their neighbors. Adam finally met the people in the flat above theirs who made all that moving around noise. They were an older couple who took ballroom dancing lessons at the senior center and liked to practice at home. Mrs. Kapoor tried to teach Adam how to foxtrot right there on the pavement in the middle of the night. He stepped on her feet, but since he was in bare feet and she’d actually taken the time to find shoes it wasn’t a big deal.

-Meanwhile Jesus was finally talking to the loud young men from next door. By the time Adam wandered over, Jesus had learned their names (Leon, Seamus, and Nazim) and secured an invitation for the two of them to come over to watch Saturday’s football match, and to join their next D&D campaign (“just no more paladins,” said Nazim). Adam looked forward to finding out whether it was the D&D or the football that was the cause of more yelling.

-As the evacuation stretched on with no hint of either actual fire or clearance to go back inside, the building’s children began to get fussy. Adam found a coin on the ground (successfully picking it up, because Crowley didn’t make it to this neighborhood very often) and proceeded to distract them with stage magic.

-He initially learned stage magic from Aziraphale, but he’s better at it than the angel ever was. He hardly cheats physical reality at all. The kids love it.

-When the fire department finally gives them the clearance to go back inside, Adam’s stomach rumbles. “Is anyone else hungry?,” he asks, to a chorus of agreement. It’s too late for any nearby takeout, but Jesus chats with their neighbors about options.

-Jesus enlists Adam’s help in going from flat to flat gathering ingredients from everyone, and before long they’re serving fish tacos and grilled cheese sandwiches to a small crowd of pajama-clad people. It’s 2 am, but everyone is smiling, or at least has contentment at the edge of their yawns.

-The next day, Mrs. Kapoor brings Adam and Jesus a spider plant cutting, because she thought their flat looked too bare. Adam texts a picture of it to Crowley and receives back lengthy instructions on watering, pot size, soil, and the most effective threats for the species.

-Five months later, the local planning council has an intense debate about why crime rates in one neighborhood have dropped by 75% since their last meeting. They each try to claim credit for their pet civic projects. Actually, it’s because Adam Young has started to love London, or at least his nook of it.

-Buskers soon realize that certain tube stops are generating far more tips than they ever have before, with no obvious demographic shift accounting for the change. The common ground is that these are the stops on Adam’s commutes to work and his activist meetings. He can only occasionally spare a tip himself, but his enjoyment of the music is contagious.

-Even after the breakthrough, not every day is good. On a late summer day that just happens to be the anniversary of the day the world didn’t end, Adam comes home from a protest fuming.

-“Dude, you okay?” asks Jesus, looking up from his guitar. (Jesus sometimes goes to protests with Adam, but not usually the ones where they’re planning on breaking laws. “I’m a brown-skinned foreigner, man. Do you think I’ll get away with what you get away with? I’m not ready for that yet,” he says, and Adam can’t argue.)

-“The media barely showed up at our event, probably because it was about a million degrees and even though that’s exactly what we’re protesting, nobody wants to be out in it. Six of our people passed out from the heat and three got arrested. They still didn’t arrest me, but I got pushed over and cracked my phone screen. On my way home, some drunk on the tube vomited on my shoes. Our green jobs bill still doesn’t have the votes in Parliament, and have you seen the latest news on the Antarctic ice sheets?” Adam kicks off his shoes, then collapses dramatically onto the futon and groans.

-“Sounds rough,” says Jesus.

-“I should’ve just ended the damn world when I was eleven and I had the chance. Would’ve been quicker,” Adam mutters.

-Jesus gets up and goes to the kitchen. He brings Adam a beer. “You don’t mean that, bro,” he says.

-Adam sighs, accepting the beer. “I suppose not.”

-He drinks his beer. Dog, now grey-muzzled and slow, shuffles over to curl up at his feet. Adam pulls out his phone, which is cracked but still seems functional. He’s got a text from Aziraphale.

-“Dear Adam,” the text begins, because Aziraphale might have finally deigned to learn to text but he steadfastly refused to adopt its stylistic conventions, “I hope that you have returned safely from today’s protest. I’m very proud of your continuing efforts, and though he won’t admit it I know that Crowley feels the same. Please write back at your earliest convenience. Fondly, Aziraphale”

-Adam texts back to reassure the angel, who will doubtless pass it on to Crowley, then he texts similar reassurances to his parents and to Mrs. Kapoor upstairs. He’s still figuring out this adulthood thing, but he’s got a lot of parental figures looking out for him. His Infernal Bio-Dad isn’t one of them, and that’s the way Adam likes it.

-Through the open window comes the sound of music blasting from a car stuck in traffic below. Freddie Mercury and David Bowie are singing:

And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night, And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.

-He turned down the chance to rule the world, and he’d make the same choice again, but he still feels a certain proprietary responsibility towards the planet and its inhabitants. His father—his real, earthly father—didn’t raise him to shirk responsibility, and he’s not one to cave under pressure.

-Life is hard, people are mostly idiots, and the world is coming apart at the seams, but it’s his messed up life and his idiotic people and his beautiful, half-broken world.

#good omens #adam young #good omens headcanons #fanfic #post-canon #please excuse any errors and americanisms #long post #tardis-stowaway's writing & stuff

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realcube · 3 years

Text

YOU GOT: YŪ NISHINOYA

matchup for @scftfairyking

‘I use glasses (LMAO BC IM BLIND). I'm an Aries , im bi and a ENFP.’

♡ it would be bold to assume that nishinoya has a ‘thing’ for glasses just bc he liked kiyoko and kiyoko wore glasses but it also wouldn’t be insanely far-fetched as his type isn’t really elaborated on. either way, he’d definitely find your glasses charming - like sometimes he’d steal them from you if you ever set them down and he’d hold them above his head like ‘if you want them back, you have to go out with me ( •̀ .̫ •́ )✧’ except his plan goes to shit bc you’re like 6 inches taller than him so you just snatch them from his hands lol

♡ HE’S AN ARIES TOO! i’m no horoscope expert but that seems compatible to me

♡ a google search claims that nishinoya is an ESFP but that is only a headcanon bc he does seem very similar to an ENFP

♡ either way though, there is only one letter between you two; N (Intuition) and S (sensing preference) - which means you prefer to look at the greater picture when trying to solve a problem while noya tends to take a step-by-step, factual approach (which is arguable)

♡ that doesn’t really seem to hold too much value in a relationship though; especially considering how similar you both are despite that. you are both extroverted, energetic, chaotic, somewhat unpredictable but you both possess the capacity to be serious when you need to

♡ that is power couple vibes tbh- like you are probably the fuel to noya’s flame- while others are telling him not to get a buzz cut bc he’ll regret it, you’re cheering him on

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

‘I usually am pretty shy when I first meet someone, but when I start to get comfortable enough, I tend to be really chaotic and fun to be around with. I'm pretty loud and very open but only with my closest friends, and I tend to be a really sarcastic sometimes. My love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation.’

♡ noya would not mind if you were shy at first, as long as you weren’t uncomfortable. bc he’s persistent and lil gremlin stalker man so considering that he’s gonna sit next to you in class, try sit next to you at lunch and offer to walk you home, you’ll probably get used to him pretty quickly

♡ going off the assumption that you and noya are gonna get close very fast, he thrives off your chaotic energy and matches it. he likes to turn everything into a competition and before y’all actually start dating, he flirts with you in the most cursed ways possible- like he send you (tw/ choking) this image at 3AM with the caption ‘this could be us 😩’

♡ he deals with your sarcasm pretty well- he just pretends like you are being serious and rolls with it >:)

♡ ex. he tries to throw a piece of popcorn in the air and catch it in his mouth but he misses and he lands on the couch. ‘wow, noya, that was so cool.’ you murmured monotonously and he just whipped his head around to show you his smug smirk, ‘i know!’

♡ he shows his love through gift-giving and physical touch but he prefers to receive affection through your love languages; physical touch and words of affirmation.

♡ like he was asking for your hand and marriage after you called his rolling thunder ‘badass’

♡ also i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again; noya likes to find rocks on the ground that remind him of you so whenever he takes you on dates, the first thing he does is show you all the rocks he collected while explaining why each one is similar to you

♡ ‘ok so look at this one, it has little brown specs on it and it’s the exact same color as your eyes! look!’ then he’ll hold the rock up next to your face and take a picture so he can show you the comparison while you just stand there like 🤠

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

'Some of my hobbies are: skating, swimming, reading, writing, listening to music, learning new languages, gaming and watching movies.’

♡ omg 🥺 skating dates with noya- if you mean ice-skating/roller blading, i can imagine him being somewhat of a natural so when he first steps into the rink, you’ll probably have to hold his hands to guide him for a bit until he finds his balance but then - in the blink of an eye - he’s suddenly doing advanced tricks, skating elegantly and rapidly

♡ but if you mean skateboarding, then he demands that you teach him how to do random tricks he’s heard of in his video games and half of them you’ve never even heard of; ‘(y/n)! please teach me how to do a 360-ollie-back-flapjack-bananasplit-kick!!’ ‘noya, i don’t think that’s a real thing.’

♡ he loves swimming with you! he’s no professional but he can frontstroke really fast. so he likes to race with you and have competitions to see who can hold the breath the longest underwater

♡ pfft i firmly believe that the only book noya has ever read for pleasure was the diary of a wimpy kid series when he was like 8 - but if you read to him, he’d really like that 👉👈

♡ he likes to listen to music too- like while he is cleaning, studying, exercising etc and if you make him a playlist, he will literally forever be in your debt 🙏 he makes you playlists too but he mostly listens to latin music, rap, r&b and random songs he found on tiktok so that’ll be what his playlists consists of

♡ FKDAGHR post-timeskip he travels so ofc he likes to learn new languages too so you both do lil duolingo sessions together where you just sit on the app and test each other on your vocabs- and sometimes he’ll just ask you random house questions in a foreign language for a challenge

♡ you just hear his voice echo through the house like ‘OU EST LE LAIT?!’

♡ obviously he games too- and whenever you play first-person shooters with him and some random guy in the lobby tries to hit on you, he goes feral. like you’ll never see more protective than when he is in a COD lobby with you

♡ movie nights with noya? movie nights with noya. y’all watch everything from sharknado to star wars like he’ll literally watch anything as an excuse to spend time with you :3 when it’s his turn to choose, he picks either a comedy (bc he loves hearing your laugh 🥺) or a horror (because if you get scared, he wraps you in his arms like ‘don’t worry babe, i’ll protect you ( •̀ ω •́ )✧’)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

‘My favorite food is carrot cake and i dislike snowstorms or anything that has to do with storms ^^’

♡ his favourite food is gari gari kun which i think is a sort of icelolly so i hc that he has a sweet tooth- also he has the third largest appetite in haikyuu!! so i’ll bet my teppanyaki grill on the fact that nishinoya likes carrot cake too!

♡ speaking of which, i bet he takes you out for dates at dessert places rather than restaurants bc sharing a plate of chocolate waffles is way more romantic than eating separate dishes with a lame ass candle in the middle 🙄

♡ ok i imagine that nishinoya is fine with storms considering his signature move is literally called ‘rolling thunder’ but he’d be such a sweetheart if there was a storm while you were round at his house; like he’d hold you in his arms and refuse to let go until the storm was over and he’d blare your favourite songs on his speaker to drown out the sounds outside

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

for @scftfairyking: ok so when i read your request literally the first person i thought of was nishinoya- especially bc y’all have matching zodiac signs :o like that’s soulmate energy

#matchup #hq matchups #haikyuu!! matchup #haikyuu matchups #💗matchup #💗lets date!

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writinginstardust · 4 years

Text

Say Yes

Pairing: Alex Claremont-Diaz x Henry Fox-Montchristen-Windsor

Prompt: “I thought we weren’t doing gifts!”

Warnings: It’s a little smutty towards the beginning but not explicit

A/N: No one actually requested this prompt but I was looking through them and inspiration hit and I just had to write this.

Word Count: 1727

Christmas morning started the same as every other. Henry woke with Alex in his arms, face buried in his chest, snoring softly. That moment never lasted long, Alex seemingly sensing Henry waking up and rousing soon after, but Henry was determined to savour every second of it today. After today, things would be different. A bit, at least.

He'd thought a lot about how he wanted to do this over the last year. Nothing too dramatic or public would do he'd decided, but he wasn't sure quite how to do it for the longest time. It was cliched doing it on Christmas but since they'd agreed not to do presents this year - why, Henry couldn't remember - Henry had been inspired and come up with an idea to give them both a gift on the anniversary of when he'd made the decision. Alex couldn't be mad at him for breaking their pact for this.

Alex stirred in his arms, mumbling sleepily and nuzzling into Henry's neck. His heart stuttered at the action as always and he brought a hand up to run through Alex’s messy hair, tilting his head down to press a light kiss to his forehead as he slowly woke up. Eyelashes fluttered but refused to open as Alex shifted and pressed a kiss to Henry’s jaw, quickly following it with another, and another, and another as he blindly searched for Henry’s lips, smiling when he finally got there and kissed Henry properly.

His kisses were softer in the morning, sleep clinging to him and slowing his movements, connecting lightly and lingering wherever they landed. Henry loved it. He’d never thought he’d get to have anything like this, be allowed to feel this deeply and freely and have someone return it. He’d certainly never imagined he’d get to have this with Alex of all people and he wanted it forever. Hence Alex’s Christmas present.

“Mornin’ baby,” Alex mumbled sleepily against his lips.

“Good morning.”

“Wha’ time ‘s it?” Henry blindly reached for his phone on the nightstand to check.

“Half seven.”

“What time do we have to get up?” Alex asked, becoming a bit more coherent as his brain kicked into gear, though clearly not enough since he hadn’t twigged what day it was.

“Whenever you want, love. It’s Christmas. We don’t have to do anything.” Alex blinked up at him, the words taking a second to process, before realisation dawned. It was equal parts funny and adorable and Henry let out a little huff of laughter before kissing Alex quickly again.

“Well, merry Christmas then, I guess.” Alex was smiling now, his eyes bright and alert at last.

“Merry Chri-” Alex cut him off with a kiss, one with more purpose than all his previous ones, and Henry melted into it, hands gravitating towards his waist to hold him tight against his body.

“I know...we said...no gifts,” Alex murmured between the kisses he’d started leaving down Henry’s throat, his hand sliding lightly down the length of his body and making Henry’s breathing become more ragged every second. “But I’ve got you a little something. Would you like it now?” Alex’s hand paused at Henry’s pelvis, his knuckles brushing back and forth over soft pale skin as he waited for Henry’s answer.

“Is it really a present if you enjoy it as much as I do?” He asked with a teasing smirk that dropped from his face quickly as he let out a shuddering breath when Alex moved his hand closer to where he wanted it.

“It’s a loophole in our agreement. Do you want it or not?” He scowled up at the pedantic prince. He knew the answer of course, but now he wanted Henry to say it.

“Yes. Thank you.” Alex grinned and finally wrapped a hand around him, watching as Henry’s eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted on a near silent gasp.

He took his time unravelling Henry with his hands and mouth and Henry happily returned the favour afterwards, both of them left warm, contented, and sleepy when it was over. Henry would have given anything to stay wrapped up with Alex like this forever, but he couldn’t. Not now at least. Maybe later. If all went well anyway.

He wasn’t really worried about it, he tried to tell himself. He knew Alex loved him, had admitted to ‘feeling forever’ about him early on in their relationship, and would almost definitely say yes. But there was a slither of doubt and anxiety he just couldn’t shake. After a lifetime of never feeling worthy, it was hard to believe.

Watching Alex opening his presents with a fond smile, having already finished with his own, Henry fiddled with the little box in the pocket of his bathrobe. The waiting was killing him but he was going to stick to his plan. A few minutes longer with Alex as his boyfriend rather than his fiance wasn’t the end of the world. Finally, Alex was finished.

June shot a glance his way and he nodded subtly. She slid off the sofa and retrieved the final present from where it was hidden around the back of the tree.

“There’s another one for you Alex,” she said, pretending to read the label. “It’s from Henry.”

Alex took the box from his sister, not noticing as she pulled out her phone and started to sneakily record the whole thing. She was sure they’d want to remember this.

“I thought we said no gifts!” He said incredulously as he turned to his boyfriend. “Now I feel bad.” Henry smiled softly and rolled his eyes.

“Just open it.”

Alex tore the paper off and pulled the lid off the box inside, frowning at the folded piece of paper he was greeted with. He looked at Henry, question held in his eyes, but Henry just gestured for him to read the note he’d written. Hesitantly, Alex unfolded the paper and began to read.

Henry watched his face carefully, seeing his reactions play out freely as he focused on the love letter, not noticing Henry slip off his armchair and kneel in front of him. He pulled the the box from his pocket and opened it, not saying a word, just waiting patiently for Alex to finish reading. There were tears forming in the corners of his eyes now and Henry watched him trying to keep them at bay, failing completely by the time he got to the end. He put the paper down, finally laying eyes on Henry and the ring in his hands. He stared for a long moment in silence before whispering a single word.

“Yes.”

Henry’s lips twitched and a little huff of laughter escaped.

“I haven’t even asked you yet.”

“Well then hurry up and ask me!” Alex slid off the couch to kneel in front of him, linking his fingers with Henry’s free hand and staring into his eyes.

“Alexander Gabriel Claremont-Diaz, pain in my ass, love of my life, ...will you marry me?” He barely finished the question before Alex was throwing himself into his arms and crying yes repeatedly, only stopping to kiss him senseless. The unexpected force knocked Henry onto his ass but Alex didn’t stop kissing him for a second, climbing into his lap and threading his fingers through soft blond hair.

Henry slid his hands to Alex’s waist and pulled him closer as he kissed back with the same passion Alex was using, neither of them caring that the whole family was there, and June stopped recording. With their permission, she’d share the video later and the world didn’t need to see all that. Finally, with flushed cheeks and elated smiles, they broke apart and Henry slid the ring onto Alex’s finger, a quick snap telling them June had captured the moment.

More snaps followed as Alex cupped Henry’s jaw and kissed him again, gentler, slower, but just as loving as before. He’d never felt so happy. He’d said before that Henry was his forever but now there was no question about it. He was Henry’s forever as well.

Later, when they were both out of their pyjamas and media appropriate, June took cheesy but classic couple engagement announcement pictures for them to post on Instagram, sending the ones she’d taken in the morning alongside them. Alex spent a long time looking at the picture of them kissing in their pyjamas when he and Henry snuggled into bed that night. The ring was clearly visible where he was holding Henry’s face and the love and joy seemed to radiate out of the photo, touching his heart and making him relive the moment in vivid detail. There was no way the royal or white house PR teams would be happy about him sharing such a messy, private, candid moment on social media but that was the real them.

Normally he didn’t want the world glimpsing too much of their private life, happy to play the role he’d perfected over the years, the more media friendly version of himself. But there was something about this moment and this photo. This was them. This was something that meant the world to him and he wanted memorialised in some small way, shared so everyone would know how happy Henry made him.

Forgoing the rules and the perfectly cute and acceptable options at his disposal, Alex uploaded the photo, only writing the shortest of captions before posting and putting his phone aside. It needed no explanation after all.

Henry was looking at him fondly when Alex rolled onto his side to face him. He linked their fingers together, gaze catching on the ring once more before Henry tilted his face back towards his own and brought their lips together. They both ignored the incessant buzzing of their phones as they blew up, losing themselves in each other for a while instead.

“I love you,” Alex whispered when they stopped.

“I love you too.” Alex looked down at the ring again, smiling softly and running his thumb over the smooth gold.

“That was the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten. I don’t know how I’m meant to top that.”

“You already have.” Alex flicked his eyes back to Henry’s, a hint of confusion in them. Henry moved his face close to Alex’s again, pausing a breath away. “You said yes,” he whispered and kissed him.

Tag Lists: (send an ask if you want to be added!)

Everything: @wonderfilledness @writingbychelle @ad-astraaaa @moderngenius94

Firstprince: @alex-g-claremont-diaz

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #FirstPrince #firstprince fanfic #alex claremont diaz x henry fox montchristen windsor #Alex x Henry #rwrb fanfic #red white and royal blue fanfic

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soundofseventeen · 5 years

Text

Under the Umbrella (Kim Mingyu)

Alright y’all...you have my full permission to condemn me for never being on. I meant to have this posted like two weeks ago, but moving is hectic. Anyways, a happy late birthday to @notprincesscharming and @mingyulonglegs and I hope y’all like this! -Bee

Word count: 4962

“Y/N, don’t forget the umbrella,” Joshua called from the kitchen. “The news said it was actually gonna rain today.” He came into the living room, holding a bowl of popcorn, calmly sticking them into his mouth one by one. He eyed your casual attire, wondering if you’d be able to make it without getting wet.

You shook your head as if reading his mind. “They’ve been saying that since...forever ago and it’s been nothing but hot weather. I’ll live.” You sighed when your roommate shook his head at you, and went back to find said umbrella and came back out with a small huff and he nodded approvingly. You had just opened the door, stepping outside and only stopping when you remembered. “Do you need anything?”

“The will to live might be nice! I’m ready to drop out or get hit by a bus….I’m fine with either option at this point.” He flashed you his famous devil may care grin. “Anything will be better than this torture.”

You pulled out all the won in your pocket and waved it at him. “Sorry pal; the best I can do is an energy drink and maybe some ramen if you’re lucky.”

“I can live with that. Make sure it’s not that low carb shit though! Last time, I had a crash so bad that I slept for two days.” The engagement ring on his finger reflected against the sun and it shone on your face, making you turn away with a grimace. The wedding was a week away and you couldn’t believe how soon so many things that’d change. At least you knew that this would always be intact.

“You take what you get and you don’t complain!” You laughed and closed the door, ready to head to town for the week’s groceries since Joshua would be doing the cooking for a few more days. The sky was blue but a hint of the gray clouds colored around it. Rain had been in the forecast for sometime but it had yet to fall and you knew once it happened, the last traces of the humid weather would disappear for the remainder of the year and the cold would take its place.

Normally, you’d be thrilled to bring out your sweaters and blankets and parade down the streets in your favorite boots but lately you couldn’t find yourself to move past the summer or the adventures it brought. You could still taste the watermelon when you speared it with a toothpick and ate it while you waited in the laundromat for the washer to finish its last spin cycle and you could hear the songs playing on the radio while you roasted marshmallows and swatted the pesky mosquitoes while the campfire crackled happily with the attention. And you could smell the sunblock as you rubbed it on your skin even though you didn’t plan on leaving the shade. These memories you couldn’t let go of just yet and you hoped it could stay like that just a little longer until you could accept it. Especially when those expressive brown eyes and warm smiles that lit your soul from the inside out seemed dedicated to searing themselves deeper and deeper into your heart until a permanent mark took its place. You dusted the nonexistent dog hair off your shirt, hoping to shake it off.

The grocery shopping didn’t take as long as you expected it to, so you took the long way home, picking up a few extra things on the way back, even cutting your roommate some slack and picking up some takeout so he wouldn’t dirty the kitchen you spent a long time cleaning up. You didn’t enjoy the hot breeze that hit your face but it still hinted at the summer weather and for that, you were grateful. You walked past a popular restaurant, pausing when you recognized Minghao and nearly waved at him until you saw that he wasn’t alone. Your breath got caught in your throat and you struggled to get it out, your lungs failing you. Your hands trembled a little at the sight and it took all your power not to drop all the items in your hand and turn around. Minghao saw you and he waved, but you couldn’t. You merely walked past the window, not bothering to turn back until you were sure you wouldn’t see either of them. You faked a smile and a good mood for Joshua (which he bought, bless his soul) as you chatted (or rather gloated at how you were right and you didn’t need the umbrella) at the table and when you went outside to take the trash out, you looked at the evening sky once more.

Not a hint of rain.

The relationship you had hadn’t always been this way and you didn’t think you’d even make it as far as it did. You and Joshua had agreed to travel abroad together to experience a life outside of your home while you continued your studies, deciding that you needed a culture shock at least once in your life. You lucked out when you moved somewhere you could still speak English but the same couldn’t be said for others. That’s how Joshua met Kim Mingyu when they became roommates for a year.

Mingyu was someone who understood the basics of English but often had trouble communicating so the pair became fast friends because Joshua spoke Korean almost as well as Mingyu. It’s not that you didn’t have an interest in getting to know him, but you stayed in your dorm a lot, often studying and refusing to leave the place when your social anxiety kicked in, especially when it felt like you couldn’t relate to your own roommate. But when you started spending more time in their dorms, it seemed inevitable to befriend him as well.

He piqued your interest when you saw the photographs hanging all over the place and how good they looked even if he wasn’t a professional. He took a lot of candid pictures Joshua and many other boys you recognized both in your class and around the campus, and you noticed the captions on the back, writing the dates and the activities and the food stains that contrasted against the whiteness of the Polaroid he sometimes used. You were confused when you saw yourself in some of the background photos because you couldn’t remember Mingyu ever taking out a camera in your presence. It surprised you even more when you found out it was more of a hobby than a passion for him.

You weren’t sure what sparked the movement but you just knew that one day he was your best friend’s roommate and the next, he showed you his private world that included bass playing and poetry slams his other friends helped him write. He left after a couple of semesters due to him still being undecided in his major, but exchanged social media to keep in touch with each other’s lives. He was a great friend and even though it hadn’t been meant to have him around for a long time, you were satisfied in knowing you could watch him grow and cheer for him from afar. After all, it was a big wide world and you didn’t expect to cross paths with him again, not when he was destined for great things and his lack of posts on his social media proved it.

Over the school years, you and Joshua hopped around from university to university and meeting new people and being introduced to new things. You two dated around, although no serious commitments ever came out out of that, which sometimes bothered you because of the pressure to find someone hit you out of nowhere but Joshua often encouraged you to shrug it off and have fun. You wanted something serious but also your wanderlust always won in the end and you knew finding someone who was okay with you seeing parts of the world with your best friend was nearly impossible.

Your luck seemed to change when you arrived in South Korea. Tired of always asking your parents to transfer money into your bank account, you obtained a work visa to provide for your necessities and Joshua followed suit. You finally managed to move out of the dorms and into your own apartment with him as your roommate. Granted, you struggled in the beginning but anywhere seemed like a better option than sharing a place with someone you didn’t know.

It didn’t surprise you when Joshua casually announced he was going on a date one night you were doing calculus but you wondered why it had taken so long. When the first date turned into a second and then a third, you felt lonely because he didn’t stay home as much, even though he tried not make you feel left out and you appreciated that. However, you knew that you couldn’t hold onto him forever, especially because he seemed serious about this one. So you sucked it up and let Joshua be, keeping your emotions to a minimum.

One day, while at the hardware store, you were browsing the aisles, looking for the paint section because the living room needed a new coat when you saw a familiar face. He stuck out like a sore thumb even after not seeing him in a few years. Kim Mingyu carefully balanced the bird feeders in his arms and when he struggled to hold onto them, you found yourself running to help when one nearly toppled to the floor. His eyes widened when he saw you but he treated you like an old friend as he chatted away about the old lady near his house who was too old to replace her old ones and your paint was long forgotten. Just before he left, he said it had been good to see you again and it was a small world to wind up there of all places. You left home with a good mood at seeing him even though you exchanged nothing except a small catchup on your lives.

A month later, you found out you worked next door to each other when you had gone out for lunch and you saw him leave a local clinic for his own lunch. He called your name, flashed you a smile and waved you down, heading in opposite directions and all, and you ended up eating at a Japanese restaurant he swore was the best in the area. From there, not only did you try to time your lunch breaks to at least see him, but you finally managed to get his phone number although you quickly realized he was busy outside of work too. He had hobbies that included building cabinets and desks and painting them, and often checked in with the ajumma in exchange for learning her recipes. (He said it was good for future résumés.) He had switched to online courses so he’d have more time to do things so whenever you saw him during the lunch hours you couldn’t meet up, you’d see him with a laptop stuck to his face as he typed away.

The first time he asked you to hang out with him after work happened at the last minute. With work being slow, you were allowed a couple of hours earlier than usual when he had walked out, his phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear as he locked up, assuring someone it’d be okay. He had spotted you the moment he hung up and asked if you were busy. When you told him no, he apologized for asking you last minute but he had planned to go to a concert with his friend Seungcheol, but his sister had broken her arm and they were currently at the hospital and if you’d like to go. You thought about it a moment, quickly weighing out the pros and cons, and agreed. You texted him your address and he promised to pick you up within 30 minutes. Joshua wasn’t there so you wrote him a note not to wait up for you and that you had your keys in case you arrived later than planned and Mingyu whisked you away for the afternoon.

You two hit it off and before you knew it, he became part of your everyday life and you managed to balance school, work, home and now him. He began calling you weekly to see if you’d like to accompany him to do laundry late at night and most of the time, you said yes. Though most of the time he worked on his assignments, he made sure to bring the seasonal fruit in a container for you two to snack on until you complained you were hungry and he dashed to the McDonald’s across the street for a last minute meal. He invited you to a lot of other places that recommended or required a plus one and you went along with him whenever time allowed.

It took you a lot longer that you wanted to admit that he was someone who couldn’t be alone. Most of his personality trait revolved around the fact that he needed constant companionship and it wasn’t a bad thing but when you asked him about it he shrugged and said he liked being around people. But he did, however, invite you to an animal shelter and he rescued a pup that he fell in love with immediately. And then you figured out he liked helping others, felt a sense of responsibility and pride when he looked after people, and when you brought it up to him another night, he gripped the insect repellent little too tightly which made it slip from his hands and fall with a dusty crash next to Aji who woke up scared from her nap. He never thought of it like that and with a shy smile, he placed his hand on your knee and explained his dream to become a nurse to feel that sense of belonging in the world while Ed Sheehan sang contentedly in the background.

Joshua met him again and the two often made plans to hang out when their schedules lined up. Apparently they had a ton of mutual friends and they spent a lot of time together, often making a party out of study dates. You didn’t accompany them those times, instead taking advantage of the peace and quiet to catch up on your work, sleep or latest Netflix binge until your roommate came back.

Joshua noticed the sparkle in your eye whenever he saw you with Mingyu or whenever Mingyu stopped by, but he never said anything in fear of you denying it and pushing Mingyu away because it had happened in the past with a few others. However, he knew it wasn’t his business to interfere with your love life so he let you be, watching you slowly fall in love Mingyu, but also wondering if you’d ever make your move. He could tell that while watching Mingyu spraying your back with the sunblock and begging you to join him for a swim, he’d be your one that got away and he remained unsure if you’d be able to bounce back from that. That was one heartbreak Joshua would not know how to handle.

You swore you could never do that, but it was dusk and you saw him fiddling with the bass trying to keep the somber timbre between Hansol and Wonwoo rapping about hope despite the hopelessness they painted and you could feel Joshua wrapping his fingers around your hand as he let their words of affirmation sink in. You squeezed his hand back in reassurance, his breakdown still fresh in your minds and only let it go when you stood up to give Mingyu his well deserved standing ovation and you realized just how far you fell into the rabbit hole. He met your gaze bashfully and looked away just as quickly, a rare thing for someone as confident as Kim Mingyu. You threw a stray flower in his direction, to which he caught by the pink petal and fumbled out a meek, “thank you,” and walked offstage before anymore attention would be on him.

He might have not been the brightest crayon in the box, with the way he’d suddenly exclaim at a bruise he barely noticed while you talked about the possibility of failing one of your classes or whenever he called you in the middle of the night when you were dead asleep and asked if you wanted to go have dinner because he had just finished building the ajuma’s house for her blue jays (but you rejected those offers most of the time). Rather, it was the way he talked a hundred words a minute when it came down to him teaching Aji a new trick to when he raved about how Soonyoung was his favorite person for giving him extra guacamole so he wouldn’t have to ask for more. And your favorite times were when he’d swipe his eyes happily when he told you about the recovering drug addicts and alcoholics and how long they had stayed sober.

Just like that, you could feel the ache in your chest because you were just one of many of Mingyu’s admirers. He treated you the way he treated everyone else: with common courtesy and basic respect. You could easily find him having a meal with one of his coworkers while on break the same way you knew his everyday hobbies that included people. You didn’t let it get to you; just being his friend was more than enough. You merely smiled when it was your turn to spend time with him, feeling like the luckiest person walking the planet because you had been blessed with an angel...with respects to Jeonghan of course.

You kept him close, often letting him fall asleep during a movie when he overworked himself, and turning the air conditioner on as low as it could go because he radiated more body heat than you ever could and then covering yourselves with a blanket so he wouldn’t get cold and helping him make dinner when he didn’t have enough to go out and pretending you were in a relationship, because when he’d pick up whatever he was cooking with his chopsticks, and blowing on it so he could feed it to you and get your opinion, you couldn’t help but feel how domestic it was, especially if you managed to get sauce on your face somewhere and he’d clean it off with a napkin.

And then somewhere between your own mental breakdown from stressing out over everything and Joshua one day telling you he’s getting married, Mingyu also dropped the news he’d be leaving at the end of the month to Japan to pursue a cooking career which turned your life upside down and you went out of your way to shut him out so the goodbye could be easier. It worked some days, like when you agreed to open or close at work so you wouldn’t bump into him and joining a couple of study groups so you wouldn’t outright fail your classes and even accompanied Joshua to see the caterers that interested him the most. You’d be so tired at night, Mingyu wouldn’t even cross your mind as your head hit the pillow and your eyes closed involuntarily and you brought your blanket as close to your face as you could. And some days, it felt impossible because a piece of Mingyu always seemed to be everywhere: the grocery store, the gym you passed by on your way home, the park and you could recall the details, even the insignificant ones like Mingyu tying tying his shoe and jumping in surprise at the bee that flew in his face, mistaking him for a flower. (Could you blame the bee though? He bloomed fully with the light in his eyes and the clean smell from all the soaps and detergents and fabric softener he threw in the washer, and how beautiful he was to marvel at. You would’ve done the same thing.)

The leaves finally started changing their colors, the department stores breaking out the scarves for the cold weather, the coffee shops with their infamous pumpkin spiced everything, and the night crept in earlier with each passing day and yet, the warm weather remained as if not quite letting you let go of Mingyu either.

And even when the first day of autumn officially arrived with promises of rain in the forecast, you still sighed heavily and wondered when the summer would be over for you.

“Don’t wait up for me,” Joshua said on the other end of the line. “We’re still looking for homes and the person who owns the venue might be late.”

“You have three days until your wedding and-never mind. Be careful both of you. You have your key, right? Okay, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You hung up and immediately went to your room to pick up the (overdue) library books as well as the ones neatly stacked up on the kitchen counter. You were thankful that the librarian working today was familiar with you and wouldn’t charge you the late fees and for that you were grateful.

This particular day brought the time of firsts. You woke up in the morning feeling well rested and okay, and when you opened your window, a cool breeze greeted you. You even checked the weather app, and for the first time in a long time, there was no rain scheduled in the forecast. With that, you burst into a sleeping Joshua’s room and announced the good news, and running out to search for your favorite slipper socks and blanket for the special occasion. You didn’t work and you had finally caught up in most of your classes so as a reward, you binge watched all your favorite movies with your roommate until he had to get ready for the final wedding preparations and hopefully find a place to live. He asked you to come with him, especially because the temperature rose and he found it difficult not to laugh at you for getting carried away but you declined, savoring the day until reality kicked in again. That happened sooner than expected when you saw your books and cursed yourself and gave in, switching out of your pajamas for a pair of shorts.

Chan snickered at you when you sheepishly handed him the books, and as part of the deal, handed him his favorite packet of gum in exchange for the override and after picking out new reads, saw you off with a sarcastic yet happy, “See you next time!” and stuck a stick of spearmint gum in his mouth and blew a bubble.

You hadn’t even been inside long but when you stepped out, you noticed the sky had turned a dark gray color. The cold air picked at your skin and you rubbed your hands up and down along your arms to keep warm. It wasn’t a long walk but you didn’t know if you’d be able to handle it. You stopped long enough to put the books into your backpack when you felt the raindrops...and you groaned. The one time you didn’t bring your umbrella and this happened. And you hated the meteorologist in charge of the Seoul weather for not doing their job properly. It fell long and hard with the pent up energy of not doing it sooner.

You had yet to get up but you didn’t have the strength to, feeling overwhelmed as if you had just experienced a betrayal. You were supposed to enjoy the change in climate, not suffocate in it. And just like that, it stopped…but not really. It still fell around you, but it wasn’t pelting you like before. You looked up to see none other than the Kim Mingyu shielding you and himself from the rain. He offered his hand to you, and you hesitantly took it as you stood up.

“What are you doing out here dressed like that? You’re gonna get sick.”

“I didn’t know it was gonna rain. I...had to turn in some books and got some new ones.”

“Doesn’t Joshua hyung take care of you?” The tone he used surprised you. It sounded bitter, almost angry even.

“Joshua had some stuff to do for the wedding,” you mumbled, staring at the wet ground. You didn’t doubt that a few minutes, it’d be pooling at your ankles and you knew that you had to leave. Fast.

“Oh.” He stayed quiet for a moment, but not making an effort to move. “I haven’t seen him lately but please tell him I’m sorry that I’m not gonna be able to attend the ceremony.”

“Mingyu-” You were at a loss for words. “He’s one of your best friends. You need to be there.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’d…” He struggled to say thoughts out, only to fail and choke on them. “I can’t go. He’s one lucky guy.”

You nodded. “I agree. It’s what he’s wanted.”

“Is it what you want though?” He asked.

“Huh?” You looked up at him in confusion. His eyes, often telling the stories of his emotions, stared at you intensely, and you wondered if for a moment, he could see the inside of your soul.

“Does he make you happy?”

“Well, yeah. Mingyu, he’s my best friend-”

“Do you know that he’s cheating on you?”

“What?”

“While you’re over here, probably coming down with a cold, he’s out with someone else. I saw them earlier. They were laughing and holding hands and kissing I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I can’t come to your wedding knowing that he’s gonna hurt you later in life and-”

And you laughed. So hard you cried and with those tears came all the emotions you’ve been repressing and you cried for everything and he held you with the arm that wasn’t holding the umbrella. “Mingyu…” you had to catch your breath before you could speak properly. “Mingyu, I’m not marrying Joshua.”

“Oh thank God you’ve come to your senses.”

“Mingyu, I never was. I could never, not even for all the money in the world. I love him, I really do, but not like that. Don’t you know that by now?”

“But you guys...are always doing things together...I heard you once when he called you about the flavor of cake you wanted...and how you’re always showing up everywhere together....”

“Mingyu, we’re roommates and friends. It has never gone beyond the platonic level.” Except for one drunken kiss you shared a long time ago, but it was a dare. You had witnesses. “We do a lot of things because it’s convenient for us too.” You took his hand and wrapped your pinkie around his. “He’s happy and I’m happy just the way we are.”

“So you’re not in love with him?” He wiped the last of your tears with his sleeve, looking hopeful.

“No...just you.” You dropped your gaze, not wanting to see his reaction, but wating to hear the rejection.

With that, he dropped the umbrella and took your face in his hands, not caring about getting wet. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say that.” He pressed his forehead to yours. “I thought, I thought-”

“It’s just you,” you assured him. “It’s always been you, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something as much as this.”

He finally closed the distance between you, enveloping you in a kiss with so much love, it left you breathless. “Let’s go home.”

Mingyu laughed as you stepped on him again but didn’t say anything. Since the band played at the reception, he hadn’t let you take a break and while you had gotten a little better, you still had a ways to improve. He kissed your cheek at the effort, and finally cut you some slack and returned to the table, holding your hand proudly the whole time.

The room was alive with music, the laughter and squeals of the children as they ran across the floor, some of them bumping into the dancers, the compliments of the place and the critiques of those family members who wouldn’t have been pleased even if the venue was made of gold, and still you looked around at everyone, the face of the married man who was still gonna be your best friend, to his friends and their dates, smiling at Vernon and his love, just because you knew their history and how his love denied they were together, even though you could see the Hansol’s ring around the neck, loud and clear for the public to see. (You could hear the conversation despite the noise. “I’m gonna smack you right now. Just walk away while you have a chance.”

“You need to let go of my hand first.”

“I’ll do no such thing.”

“Sucks. ‘Bye.”

“Chwe Hansol, come back and give me attention. I’m not done holding your hand.”)

As Joshua clinked his glass to get everyone’s attention, he caught your eye and smiled at you. He stated his speech about his move with you and even though many things had changed, things were relatively the same as well. He was uncertain about his future but one thing remained clear: with his love, he could face anything.

And you looked at Mingyu again, staring at you with a smile on his face, and you kissed him softly. Because as long as you had him, the world could hurl whatever it wanted at you.

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pjmendez · 4 years

Text

Realising I can no longer do nothing

I’m tired, just as much as every other Black person is, of seeing nothing change. Nothing has changed. We might like to think things have, and it might make us feel better to think things have, or that we don’t have the same problems here in the UK as there are in the US. In the UK we like to silence Black people bemoaning police brutality and institutional racism by talking about Black-on-Black violence, of knife crime and of Black music that appears to glorify intra-racial murder, even bringing up that old “Africans sold their fellow men as slaves to white people” chestnut without mention of any of the socio-economic, socio-environmental issues and nuances within those issues that result in things being the way they are in the present day. We don’t want, as British people, to be confronted with the idea that we have to change, that what we are doing is wrong; we like to turn a blind eye, as long as we are not the worst. We will do anything not to have to confront the idea that we are the worst, a fact most amply illustrated by the recent tabloid treatment of Dr Neil Ferguson on the day Britain became the country in Europe with the worst mortality rate due to Covid-19: anything to deflect from the fact that we, Britain, once leader of a great Empire, have sunk to the bottom, down there with the slime. We can look at what’s going on over in America and sleep soundly in the assumption that we don’t treat people that way or that “our” Blacks have it better. But to do so is to be complicit in the culture of a new Jim Crow, a global pandemic in itself, the epicentre of which is in the United States, of course, but one that we cannot afford to assume we are immune from or that isn’t already affecting us in any way.

This, in some ways, has been the most beautiful Spring of my lifetime. I’ve enjoyed the publication of my debut novel, and the response to it; the London I live in is looking its natural best. The sun shines every day. It’s warm; roses, azaleas and peonies are superabundant in deliciously saturated colours. But, otherwise, it’s also the ugliest Spring. Never before has it been more starkly presented to me, in measurable facts, the depth of inequality and injustice Black people are suffering here in the UK. Not only are we statistically more likely to be economically disadvantaged, with fewer opportunities for physical distancing and greater danger for exposure due to our likelier frontline jobs, we are seeing, in 2020, black men being stopped in their cars by police at a disproportionately high rate, and a ridiculously high mortality rate compared to other ethnic descriptions – this when, according to research published by the World Health Organisation, Africa is the least-affected region globally by Coronavirus (so far), flying in the face of any rabid eugenicist’s brainwave associating higher Black mortality rates in the global west with genetics. Not only do we have to wake up to a new morning and read about yet another person of our skin colour who has been brutally murdered by police or by a white supremacist father-son team sicced like dogs by their president to sniff out and kill Black people on sight, we also have to read about the memory of a Black woman, Belly Mujinga, being served the indignity of a closed case in favour of the person who caused her death. Which Black person would get off scot-free having spat at a white person, boldly claiming their fluids were positive for Covid-19? Which white person’s death would be shown on TV stations all over the world, their neck crushed for eight whole minutes under the knee of a Black cop? Simple role-reversals are just that – simple. They do not take into account the intersections from which Black and minority-ethnic and/or queer people have to negotiate their everyday lives in a structurally-racist world (which bell hooks has described as an imperialist white-supremacist capitalist patriarchy). No Black cop would ever rest his knee on the neck of even the most dangerous white suspect, because of the respect inculcated in us for even the evilest of white souls (remember the gentle way Dylann Roof, perpetrator of the Charleston massacre, was walked into custody?). Black people are allowed to be lynched for all the world to see; white cops think they’re doing the world a favour. And white people are not standing up for us. They are turning their heads away, as if racism is not their problem. Well, it is.

I get it. When I wake up, look at Twitter or Instagram and see another one of these stories come through, my immediate instinct is to turn away; nobody wants the politicised death of a stranger to be the first thing that confronts them, daubing over their waking dreams with thick, red graffiti. Part of this might be my own socialised British “out of sight, out of mind” mentality. But the greater part of it, I think, is a refusal to believe that this could be happening, in such a way, again, so soon after the murders of Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor; news came through the next day of the death of Tony McDade, a black trans man killed by a police officer in Florida. But I first became aware of George Floyd’s death scrolling through Instagram with my coffee in bed. Ms Tina Lawson, mother of Beyoncé and Solange – two artists who have put their careers on the line to do their duty to protect their fellow citizens and draw attention to the issues they face – is usually one of the first public figures in my feeds to denounce and rally against police brutalities, posting strongly-worded statements, beatified pictures of the deceased, phone numbers to lobby the sheriff and mayoral offices most local to the killing, calling for a change of mentality and an end to racist violence. Ms Lawson shared George Floyd’s portrait, regrammed from Viola Davis’s earlier post; so soon after waking, I didn’t quite understand the context, and to my shame, I scrolled on. But I kept seeing this picture more and more, shared by African American celebrities, and other pictures of a cop kneeling down – the apparently-righteous kind of kneeling, as opposed to Colin Kaepernick’s apparently-radical kind of kneeling – but I didn’t understand. I didn’t get the picture. Because of its composition, and the expressive manner of its majority subject, a white cop, looking at the camera, straight backed, hand-on-hip, ageing but lantern-jawed like an everyday superhero just doing his job enforcing the law, I didn’t understand what was going on, and how this image connected to that of the large, friendly-looking black man Ms Tina Lawson had shared earlier. It wasn’t until later that I saw that there was a head beneath this white cop’s knee. Captions put words in his mouth redolent of the last of Eric Garner: “I can’t breathe”. Then it emerged there was a video. I refused to watch it. I did not want to see someone lose their life. I did not want to see someone pinned down, struggling, fighting, unable to free himself from beneath the grown man resting his entire body weight on their neck, losing breath, losing voice, losing consciousness, being disestablished from whatever threat they were deemed to be, being murdered. I did not want to see a Black person go through that, for all to see; what was once a sycamore tree, now a knee; what was once a gathered crowd of white nationalists attending a lynching for sport, now millions of people all over the world gawping at their smartphones. Again. If I see it happen to another Black person, in my mind, it’s happening to me. It drips poison into my ear, makes me think of all the ways I might be punished if I leave the house, while Black, travel while Black. Every microaggression leads to my unjust death, a life lived in vain. I am not alone in declaring murders of unarmed Black people to be deleterious to my mental health.

I successfully avoided watching George Floyd die, or entering into the outrage about his death, but then the video – which I today learned was shot by a seventeen-year-old Black girl of uncertain relationship to Floyd, and God knows what trauma she must be going through now – was shown on BBC News that night, uncensored. We watched an American man die on the news – an African-American man. Does that desensitise us? Does it not feed into the suspected narrative that Black people in death don’t deserve the same dignity as white people? This compounds the feared belief that I, a Black man, am less worthy than a white person. That I do not matter. That my body can be choked of life by someone trained to recognise me as a threat to life – whether I have a weapon or not – and paraded around the world. The outcry, by both Black and some white people, has been strong. But beyond a few moments of contemplation in the aftermaths of these deaths, nothing changes. The slaps in Black faces become increasingly insidious.

White supremacy is here to stay, whether its supreme leader gets four more years or not. This is a wave whose power and intention is not yet clear. I want to write a lot more about this. But to all the Black people and our allies suffering pain and anxiety today, I can only say this: stay strong. We are wonderful and amazing. We are a miracle. We are great. For all the hundreds of years of the Atlantic slave trade, when our ancestors had no rights, no self-ownership, no means of telling their own stories, were bred like cattle for best cotton-picking/cane-harvesting characteristics – the fact that we are alive and so many of us are thriving, winning, despite the obstacles in our path other ethnicities don’t have and/or put in place, is a miracle, and we deserve to take all strength and belief from that. We walked the earth first and will always. But we have to keep fighting. Dr Cornell West quoted Samuel Beckett when he urged us to “try again, fail again, fail better”. We can not let any death, any injustice, any microaggression go unchallenged. It is exhausting, and we have to keep questioning what we want equality with (this capitalist agenda? Really?). I’m not the cleverest, I’m not the bravest. But I have a voice, and I shall do my best.

#BlackLivesMatter

References:

bell hooks | We Real Cool: Black Men and Masculinity (Routledge, 2004)

Dr Cornel West in conversation with Anderson Cooper on CNN: https://twitter.com/AC360/status/1266532710266425345?s=20

Killer Mike’s address to protesters in Atlanta and other US cities: https://twitter.com/KingJames/status/1266630475709177856?s=20

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wheretfisbucky · 4 years

Text

Scholastic Aptitude- part I

(aka the Starker fic I’ve been working on since the beginning of time) Warnings: there’s a lil bit of smut in this part

Also on ao3

He doesn’t want to ask her. Since May lost her job, he’s already had to ask her for money for a new backpack and supplies for his robotics project. May’s been driving Uber and frantically searching for a new job, but she can’t seem to stay ahead of the rent. He doesn’t want to ask her, but he isn’t sure what else to do.

“Why don’t you just whore yourself out?” asks MJ at lunch.

Peter looks up from where he’s been discussing it privately with Ned. MJ is sitting far too close to them, as usual. “Can you, like… stop eavesdropping?”

MJ shrugs her shoulders, rolling her eyes in that weird way she does. “I mean, I’m just sayin’, the SAT only costs like 80 bucks. There’s plenty of weird old men who would give someone as pretty as you way more than that to be their ‘sugar baby’ or whatever.”

Peter cringes at the term ‘sugar baby’. Ned is chuckling into his palm. MJ goes back to her sandwich.

“Ned!” Peter says, hitting him on the arm. “What am I gonna do?”

“I don’t know, man, why don’t you just let me lend you the $80?”

“Because you’re my friend, and you wouldn’t let me pay you back.”

“Yes I-”

“Ned.”

Ned lowers his head in defeat. “You’re right.”

“I know I am.” Peter smirks, the matter at hand momentarily forgotten.

Ned bursts out laughing again. “Wait, did MJ just call you pretty?”

Peter turns beet red, but quickly begins giggling as well. “I dunno, man. Ew.”

______________

Peter wants to get a job, to help out with the bills. He has for years now. But May won’t let him. She says he needs to be focusing on his schoolwork and besides, they don’t have money for bus tickets. Peter counters that she can just drop him off at his job, he’ll find one that’s close. But she always insists that it’s ridiculous, and he should drop it.

Peter doesn’t even want to go to college that badly. Sure, he’s a brilliant student and would do fantastically, but he knows how the system works. Institutions of higher education are all set up to send people into debt. They’re for-profit. Once Peter takes the SAT, he’ll still have to pay for college applications, and once he’s accepted into a university, he’ll have to pay tuition. And for books. And for furniture for his room and for school supplies. Peter would rather not. He can learn all sorts of new things about science from the public library, which he has free access to. Fuck the system, in his opinion.

Unfortunately, May thinks a little differently. Like the rest of the brainwashed general population, she believes that college is integral to Peter’s future success. Which means that she’s making Peter take the SAT. And apply to colleges. “I want you to have an easier time than I’m having.” May is still in school, getting her associate’s degree. Meanwhile she’s getting tossed from one receptionist position to the next.

Peter stares down at his phone, where he’s currently downloading an app called Sugar. It’s not serious; MJ’s comment just made him curious. He laughs to himself at the thought of banging some old man for cash. No fucking way. He knows he’s better than that.

The app finally loads. It’s bright, all pastel pinks and glitter. Handsome men float before his eyes underneath a bright purple button encouraging him to ‘SIGN UP NOW!’

“Hey Pete,” says May as she comes in the door, kicking off her flats. Peter jolts, nearly dropping his phone, fumbling to grab it out of the air before it can fall. He quickly tries to regain his composure.

“Oh, hey May,” Peter answers, trying- and failing- to sound nonchalant.

May huffs out a laugh, writing it off as typical teenage hormonal awkwardness, and heads into the kitchen. “Brought pizza,” she announces. Peter takes a moment to close the app and lock his phone, leaving it on the coffee table and bounding into the kitchen to grab dinner.

“How’s school, Peter?” May asks around a mouthful of pizza. Peter understands. She’s had a hard day at work, and she’s starving.

“It’s fine,” he says simply.

“And that robotics project?”

“It’s coming along well.”

“Well, good.”

The rest of dinner is mostly quiet, and afterwards Peter makes his way to his room, phone in hand. When he unlocks it the first thing notices is the brightly colored Sugar app. He thinks he should definitely delete this before May actually catches him on it.

But first he opens it one last time.

He can’t be blamed, honestly. There were plenty of hot guys on that app and he’s been single since, like, forever. Of course he wants to look at them.

Some of the men- or ‘sugar daddies’- are in their 70s, extremely wealthy, and look like their faces were created on a randomizer app. But every few swipes a younger, handsome stud catches Peter’s eye.

He swipes through three guys named 'Dave’ before someone catches his eye and he absolutely chokes on air. “That’s- that’s Tony Stark.” He can’t help but to say it aloud. His eyes are bulging. “That’s the CEO of Stark Industries. That’s Tony fucking Stark!”

Peter knows enough about robotics to know that it’s definitely him posing shirtless on a yacht above a caption that says “looking for a pretty young thing to spend time with while my husband is away.”

He’s so handsome, Peter can’t help but think. And fuck if his cheeks don’t heat up because he’s dreamed and fantasized about meeting Tony fucking Stark.

So maybe he doesn’t delete the app. Maybe he swipes up on Tony fucking Stark’s profile and sends him a message. It’s not as if Mr. Stark will ever see it. He just couldn’t help himself.

Before Peter goes to bed he comes over his fist, groaning “Mr. Stark!” into his pillow.

*******

Stephen’s eyes roll back into his head and he sighs in pleasure. “Christ, Tony.”

His husband is above him, panting as he rocks into Stephen in slow, deep thrusts. Stephen’s on his belly, hands clutching at the sheets.

“You oughta let me top more often, huh?”

Stephen’s gasping, but he catches his breath long enough to laugh. “Oh, absolutely not. You give it to me good, but I give it to you much better.”

The room is mostly quiet for a few moments- with the exception of the steady slaps of skin against skin and breathing in the form of gasps and pants. Stephen is thinking he’s made his point when suddenly his head is pulled back and he lets out a grunt.

Tony is fucking him much, much faster, and he’s yanking on Stephen’s hair. Tony knows that’s his husband’s weakness and it’s not long before he’s moaning and coming, eyes shiny with tears he refuses to shed. Tony rolls him over, though, his cum mixing with Stephen’s on the latter’s stomach, and he laughs heartily as he gently wipes Stephen’s eyes. “Any bold statements you wanna retract, Strange?”

Stephen shakes his head. “Not in the slightest. And I’d demonstrate, but I’m exhausted.” He yawns, and Tony giggles.

“I love you, Stephen,” he says as he nuzzles his husband’s neck.

“I love you too, Tones.” Stephen sighs contentedly, but Tony starts to squirm.

When he speaks, there’s a whine to his voice. “I don’ want you to go tomorrow, Stevie.”

His husband sighs, stroking up and down Tony’s back. “I don’t want to leave you either, Tony, but this is an incredible opportunity. You have to understand, I’m going to learn so much from this doctor, she’s using techniques no one else has ever-”

“I know, I know.” Tony cuts him off. “I know Stephen. You’ve said that a million times, but it doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

“Why don’t you find yourself a little plaything for while I’m gone, hmm?”

Tony doesn’t reply. Not being exclusive is nothing new between the two of them; neither man is insecure in their relationship, and sometimes they just need things they can’t give each other. Like when Stephen is out of town at one of his surgery conferences, or his trip to China, on which he’ll be leaving in the morning. But while Stephen tends to satisfy himself by screwing other guys when he’s away, none of the countless guys and girls Tony’s been through has been able to stop him thinking and worrying and wanting his husband.

Stephen senses his hesitation, starts massaging Tony’s scalp. “It’s not that long, I promise I’ll be back before you know it.”

Tony just nods, basking in the sensation and not thinking about how miserable he’ll be without his Stephen.

*******

The next day Tony wakes around noon. He insisted on driving Stephen to the airport for his redeye even though Stephen argued he could just get a cab. Maybe he blew him in the parking lot, clutching his thighs tightly and trying not to cry because he hates it so much when Stephen leaves. But now his phone is buzzing, and he unlocks it with a grunt to find a message on that Sugar app Stephen had made him re-activate.

Hi Mr. Stark ;)

That’s interesting, because Tony’s page doesn’t say his regular name. It says Anthony Strange, though legally he’s still Tony Stark. Still, for someone to know his last name was Stark, they’d have to know him, or know of him.

With a smirk, Tony clicks on the page. The boy’s name is Peter Parker, and Tony certainly isn’t disappointed in what he sees. He reads through his list of interests. Biophysics, biochemistry, mechanical engineering. The good stuff. So this kid must know him from his company, Stark Industries, the most innovative operation in their field. This could certainly get interesting very quickly, he thinks.

Tony types out a reply. Hi Peter ;)

He’s not sure whether to be surprised or not when the response is instant.

Wow, I didn’t think you’d answer me!

Exclamation points. That’s cute. How old are you?

18.

Wow, that’s young. But he has to wonder if this is fate. What are the odds a stunning young scientist messages him only a few hours after Stephen leaves?

So you’re a budding young scientist, huh? Tell me about that?

What was previously a choppy and odd conversation launches into a passionate dialogue as Peter describes a project he’s been working on for his school’s science fair. He’s won it the past three years of high school, and he intends to win it again. Tony doesn’t tell Peter how much that reminds him of himself, lest that make it weird. Instead he just tells him how endearing he finds it and invites him over to the penthouse. He texts Stephen, of course.

I think I actually found someone to keep me busy Stevie, he types excitedly.

Surprisingly, Stephen replies almost instantly. I’m so glad, Tony. Have fun ;)

What are you doing right now? Tony types. It’s the first time Stephen’s texted him back all day. He wonders if he’s managed to sneak away for some free time.

I’m eating my lunch.

Are you alone?

Yeah.

And ohhh, Tony wants so badly to play with his husband, to send him pictures and rile him up, but just as he manages to set up the perfect shot, FRIDAY calls out to him. “Boss, there’s a young boy at the door requesting entrance to the penthouse.”

“He’s not a boy, FRIDAY, he’s 18. Stop judging me and let him up.” Tony quickly composes himself. He texts Stephen that he’s here and heads out into the living room, and out of the elevator steps the cutest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on, except maybe his Stephen.

This is gonna be fun.

I started this so long ago y'all don’t even understand. I hope you like it! There’s definitely gonna be a party 2 and probably a part 3 as well, I’ll link them when they’re up. :)

#starker fic #starkerstrange #ironstrange #this took so long y'all I'm sorry #part 2 soon!

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claraswritings · 5 years

Text

I See Nothing But You

Pairing: Jake Gyllenhaal x reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: anonymous

A/N: Title is from “Came in Close” by Pale Waves. Flashbacks are in italics. Still getting back into writing celebrity fiction

You listened attentively as your brother gushed about his new co-star. He’d recently started shooting for Far From Home and all you’d heard was “Jake did this” and “Jake said that,” for the entirety of your coffee run.

“Do you have a man-crush or something ” you teased your younger sibling gently

“What! No, just He’s a great guy...You’d get on really well with him actually, he’s such a good bloke and you both have the same weird sense of humour,” Tom added.

You elbowed your brother in the sides making his coffee slosh out of the top of his cup. “Less of the weird. I don’t care if you’re Spider-Man, I’m your big sister and I’ll still kick your arse,”

You shot him a over the top wide smile and downed the rest of your drink before he could elbow you back.

Even though your younger brother was considerably taller than you, you still liked to play the older sibling card.

Your little brother rolled his eyes “Fine, you share the same unconventional sense of humour.” He went on before you could say anything else. “I know you’ve got a week or so off at the end of the month, just come visit me, it’ll take your mind off work and your ex, plus Zendaya has been asking after you, the two of you got along so well last time,”

You nodded. You’d enjoyed visiting him on set before and his co-star had become one of your good friends. It’d be nice to just relax and enjoy all the perks of a movie set.

“Okay sure, It’ll do me good to get out of the office,”

**time jump**

The cast had just finished talking about the movie when the interviewer turned to Jake.

“So I have to ask...Jake, you’re dating...Toms sister, is that right,”

The two co-stars eyed each other before Jake proceeded somewhat carefully. You and Jake hadn’t hidden the relationship, you’d posted countless photos on your private Instagram but that was only for your friends and you’d been seen together multiple times...however since your brother had accidentally outed it, everyone seemed to know.

“Yeah, she came to visit Tom on set and that’s where we met,”

“And was it love at first sight,”

Jake sighed “Well I thought she was pretty as soon as I saw her, I thought maybe she was an extra or something. I spoke to her and she was so funny and sweet. I pointed her out to Tom like hey there’s a cute girl over there, and he then happened to mention it was his sister...”

The interviewer pulled a cringing face as Jake shrugged.

“In my defence he never told me he had an older sister,” he jokingly winced. “I thought he was the oldest,”

“Jake then kept asking me all these questions about her,” Tom cut in “Like what food does she like and is she single, and I was like yeah and Jake was like how old is she. I was all like she’s 28 and Jake was like ‘what’s that half your age plus seven,’ thing, I think she’s in my range,’ and I thought he was messing around so I was like dude knock it off, that’s my sister but Jake was like ‘yeah but seriously she’s great, I wanna ask her out, is that okay,’” Tom explained “And I said yeah sure because if Y/N found out Jake Gyllenhaal thought she was pretty and I didn’t let him ask her out, she’d probably kill me,” Tom stopped his ramble as the audience laughter took over, the sound filling the studio.

You nodded hello to the crew members as you wandered over to the large buffet table and helped yourself to a handful of grapes.

“Hey, Y/N, right? We met earlier,” at the sound of a voice interrupting your thoughts, you turned and found Jake Gyllenhaal in front of you. “I’m Jake,”

You gave him a smirk “I know who you are, my brother won’t shut up about you.”

“Only good things I hope,” Jake quirked an eyebrow.

“No, actually he says you refuse to come out of the trailer unless your Evian water has been triple filtered,” you quipped.

Jake pretended to frown for a moment “They gave me Evian? I asked for Fiji water double filtered,” he pretended to look about for someone. “Who has my Fiji water,” he raised his voice dramatically just enough to have a few of the crew look over.

You started to laugh “Oh my god, don’t mess with them, you’ll have some poor kid runner crying in a cupboard,”

The two of you fell into an easy back and forth for a few moments before Jake cleared his throat. He was watching you closely, those big blue eyes just studying you.

“Look, I meant to ask you earlier but I thought I should speak to Tom first because I might be way out of line here but...do you want to get food?”

Instantly you felt somewhat embarrassed and stepped to one side allowing Jake to access the food table you’d been standing in front of.

“Oh shit. Of course. Sorry, I’m blocking you,” you slid out of the way and gestured at the table. “Go ahead. The cheese is pretty good,”

Jake bit his tongue, cocking his head at you for a second before he let out chuckle “No I mean food later. With me, like proper dinner or a coffee or whatever you like,”

You were somewhat startled. “Uhh”. All of a sudden you couldn’t form the words you wanted to.

“Shit. Tom told me you were single and that you’d be...has he set me up? Do you have a boyfriend...I’m sorry I should have...”

“Jake.” You interrupted him “Jake it’s fine, I just didn’t expect you to...yknow ask me out...I’d love to have dinner with you.”

“So asking her out must have went smoothly then?” The interviewer asked.

Jake shrugged “I mean yeah, she said yes and we’re still together so I’d hope so, if not that makes the flowers I keep sending to her office...really awkward,”

The host continued, imploring your boyfriend to go on “And did Tom give you the ‘brother talk’?”

Jake took a long sip of his water, drawing it out to tease the waiting crowd.

“Yeah, have to admit it was a little surreal given that he was in his Spider-Man costume...,”

Tom shrugged “I’ve never had to give that talk before...let alone to someone who yknow is that ripped...” he gestured at Jake “but I just wanted to let him know not to mess with her, her last ex was a total -,”

Jake clapped his hand over the younger mans mouth “Hey hey hey, pre-watershed Tom,”

The interviewer beamed a warm genuine smile, both at the thought and Jake saving him from having to beep a swear, “And how did you respond,”

“Contrary to what the rumours in whatever trash magazine, I’m not a total asshole,” Jake paused “I love her, she’s great,” he couldn’t stop the smile spreading over his handsome face and he caught the eye of the interviewer

“Don’t worry I’m not about to go full Tom Cruise and start jumping on your couch shouting about it but yeah,” he grinned awkwardly. “She’s really really awesome,”

“Please feel free to, it would be ratings gold,” the interviewer winked in an over dramatic way. Jake made a move to get up in a playful manner only to sit back down.

“Has she met the family? Do they approve?”

“Well, my sister loves her, they went for dinner and spent the whole evening, telling what she called ‘big sister’ stories...which means they basically just shared at the dumb stuff Tom and I used to do,” Jake playfully rolled his eyes and patted Toms shoulder. “Bit embarrassing for us,”

You walked back into the shared hotel room, a huge grin on your face. Whether it was from the cocktails or the ammunition you had to tease your boyfriend, you weren’t sure.

“Someone’s happy,” Jakes arms twisted around your waist and lifted you up from behind, spinning you around. “My two favourite ladies got on well?”

It was cute. How nervous he was. It was clearly important to him.

You nodded “Yeah, I think I like her more than you, she’s great, gave me this actually, which is adorable. I’m going to have it framed...or put on a canvas,”

A panicked look took over your boyfriends face when you reached into your bag and took out a picture of him playing Romeo in a school play. He looked like such a dorky kid, a far cry from the gorgeous man he was now. Still you thought he looked like such a cute little kid you couldn’t resist teasing him.

“Shame I wasn’t there...I’d have just loved to play Juliet,”

You held up the picture of him above your head which didn’t exactly do any good given how tall Jake was. He began to chase you around the room, eventually picking you up and throwing you on the bed, wrestling it out of your hands and making you squeal.

“I’m going to kill my sister,” he joked as he got up and put the newly acquired photo in a drawer. “I fell off the stage in that performance,”

You smirked “I know, just wish it was on video,”

He shot you a look that made you laugh

“Ah it’s big sister rules to embarrass your little brother,” you walked over to him, “I tell Toms friends embarrassing shit all the time,” reached up and traced a pattern on his cheek. “Now you going to kiss me now Romeo or do I have to ask twice,”

You didn’t have to ask again.

“And this whole relationship was confirmed by Tom is that right,”

Tom pulled an exaggerated “whoops” face as the host gestured at the screen.

The picture they showed was one that Tom had posted. Essentially it had been the photo that confirmed your relationship with his co-star .

It was a photo of you and Jake looking adoringly at each other in the background with Tom pulling a over the top disgusted face with the caption.

“I think I’m going to throw up,”

“The way you look at her is so sweet,” the host cooed.

“Well, can you blame me?”

Off stage, you covered your face with your hands as the audience let out a collective aww.

“Have you seen the way he looks at her, ladies and gentlemen,” the host prompted. “That’s true love,”

You thought you looked a mess in the photo but Jake’s eyes on you made you feel like the only girl in the room.

“So you’ve mentioned in the past you’d love to have kids someday, do you think that’s happening anytime soon?” The host pressed looking to Jake for an answer.

Before he had a chance to reply, a gargled protest came from your brother.

“I can answer that one for him...absolutely not,” Tom leant across and put on a serious voice. “Not with my sister, nope no way, not until they’re married,”

The audience began to laugh and you smiled to yourself backstage as your hand found its way to your stomach.

Something told you you’d have to tell your brother and your boyfriend separately.

#jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal #celebrity imagines #celebrity rpf

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