#i wanted to send my stupid fucking professor this article
Text
There is plenty of temptation to wag fingers in the aftermath of the operation, but surely that task is not the domain of academics and activists in the metropole. Nor should it be the priority of diaspora Palestinians (among whom I include myself). In our environs, filled with their own kind of hostility, the priority should be to defend Palestinians against the torment to which they have been subjected by the entire industrialized world. Among politicians, artists, celebrities, and intellectuals, Palestinians have no shortage of critics happy to cosign Zionist genocide. Those critics don’t need or desire our validation, anyway. Abandoning our brethren in order to appease the Zionist establishment will deliver no accolades. In the end, the aspirant to respectability is left only with the shame of conciliation.
Palestinians are perfectly capable of formulating strategy and thinking through complex problems without the guidance of outsiders; they certainly don’t need half-baked moralism from dorks and social climbers in the West. The Palestinian story isn’t esoteric or inaccessible. In fact, one can discover the rationale for Palestinian violence anywhere in the great mass of revolutionary writing from Amilcar Cabral to Bassel al-Araj. That intellectuals who have made lucrative careers with tough-sounding buzzwords were so eager to condemn an actual instance of Indigenous resistance is a damning (and in my mind permanent) indictment of Western academe.
#i wanted to send my stupid fucking professor this article#for all the dumb liberal zionist buzzwords he threw my way#literally like if a palestinian is saying she wont condemn armed resistance and your only response is what of the x and x do u not care#ask yourself why do u not critically think about why palestinians support armed resistance without suggesting its out of some#bloodlust or revenge for whats happened to us#its survival..#god i hate him
42 notes
·
View notes
Note
Girl not the baby bump at the oscarsss fhgdjfjfj. Same <3
ok so in total transparency, i'm not totally sure how to answer this ask and proceed with talking (and fantasizing??) about things like reproduction and healthcare in light of recent news.
to the anon who sent this, please understand that you did nothing wrong in sending this to me, i instigated this with my original post that i made before i had learned about the recent alabama supreme court ruling. but since having learned about it, though, i have a LOT of complicated feelings that i need to get off my chest.
from here on, i will be discussing triggering topics all directly related to the recent alabama supreme court ruling. if you do not want to read about that, be my guest and skip this post. the tl;dr of it is basically, i won't be posting anything more about having children for the foreseeable future.
so. if you don't know. if you're new to my blog or just never really knew. hi. i'm based in alabama. i've lived here for many years, but have never really been especially proud to say that i'm "from" here (bc i'm not "from" alabama, i'm "from" missouri, but that's a different can of worms). also, if you were unaware, last week (but it was only widely reported upon on monday, and I recieved the news on wednesday) the supreme court of alabama made a horrific ruling that frozen embryos are now considered children under the state's wrongful death act. if something were to happen to these frozen embryos (for example, the freezer they are being kept in gets turned off and the embryos thaw, thus making them unusable in IVF treatments), the people responsible for that could (and likely WILL) be criminally charged for wrongful death of a minor.
i will not mince words, because i cannot afford to mince words. this is ridiculous. this is plain stupid. and this is dangerous. in what world would a frozen embryo be considered a child? if this is news to you, your next question might be "why would they do this?" well, your answer lies in the direct words from the judge who passed the ruling: (screenshot taken from a new york times article, if you dm me i will GLADLY provide you with links to news articles discussing this more in depth)
it is a RELIGIOUS reason. it is a CHRISTIAN reason. i am still a student, yes, and my main degree is not exactly keyed into these political issues, but my MINOR??? poli sci babes. and even though i have not been awarded my bachelor's degree yet, i have taken TOO many political sciences classes to not be aware of a little thing called separation of church and state. when you study government systems (particularly american government) in ANY capacity, separation of church and state is one of the FOUNDATIONAL things that you are taught. i am at the end of my degree program, i have met all the requirements to receive my minor, and by now, this concept is so ingrained in our minds as students that my professors do not even mention it anymore. you learn this in INTRO LEVEL government classes. i first learned this is HIGH SCHOOL. so why are we letting our government officials disregard this and rule in whatever fucking way they want to and cite whatever the fuck they want to??
but anyway. this post is not meant to be a history lesson or a politics class. just giving you the current background for context, so i can explain my complicated thoughts that were brought up because of this ask.
i am nonbinary, but i do present feminine in my everyday life. even though i do not ascribe to many of the "traditional" thoughts of femininity, i have, for a long time, wanted to be a parent. for a long time, i have wanted to get married and have a family, and i strive for that future.
but now. the specific ruling does not directly effect me, but it's more the thought of what comes next that scares me. there is already a total ban on abortions in my state, and the same judge who said the above quote has said that he wishes to make it a criminal offense to any persons who help a pregnant person seek an abortion. so, let's say for example, if my boyfriend were to drive me across state lines to receive an abortion, he could be charged with a criminal offense. that's so unfathomably absurd to me.
but, because of this, i am quickly becoming turned off from the entire idea of reproducing at all. pregnancy scares me, because, in the likely event that my own health does not allow for a safe pregnancy (long story short, because of a few health issues, my doctor has told me that it will be difficult, if not highly unlikely, for me to conceive a child naturally), i cannot receive the necessary healthcare required, and any family or partner who helps me do so is then liable. i personally feel (operative word is personally, just because i feel this way does not mean that you have to as well) scared of that happening, of even opening myself up to that possibility. even fantasizing about becoming pregnant fills me with fear and anxiety, because, as much as i want to be able to detach myself from it and be like "oh having this person's baby <3" and write fiction about it, my anxiety will not let me detach from reality.
so. for the time being, until i can process these feelings and the fear better, i think i'm gonna refrain from writing/posting about having children/pregnancy/things of that nature. it's no longer a sweet little fantasy for me; this ruling sets a precedent, a dangerous precedent, and if this is the fear that i feel from something that does not directly effect me at the present moment, i could not tell you how i would feel when (not if, when) the state i reside in puts in even harsher and more damaging laws.
so yeah. idk. that's just sorta where my head is at rn.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Spirk fanfic rec
Some amazing Spirk fanfic to bless your dash because I’m falling in love with this shit all over again (this is like the 10th time this has happened lol):
Entering Orbit: Jim escapes to Iowa to avoid the media frenzy following the Narada incident, but a late-night miscommunication results in Spock turning up on his front porch; rated m; 30,957 words
Papers in the Roadside: Non-Starfleet AU. Jim owns a small bar in Chicago, keeps on picking up strays and taking care of everyone no matter how hard it makes his own life. Spock is a journalist writing feature articles for the Chicago Tribune; he depicts the world with uncanny skill, but hides more than one personal drama and is possibly under surveillance from the Vulcan royal family. They meet by accident just before their lives start to spin out of control; rated e; 49,637 words
Take Refuge in What You Know: AU - Kirk has moved into a apartment/house and wants to get to know his neighbors. He meets his neighbor Spock, a loner who suffers from extreme agoraphobia. Kirk thinks he's beautiful enigma; rated e; 120,334 words
Listen, this is not only my favorite Star Trek fic of all time, it’s also one of my favorite fanfics in general. It’s right up there with Text Talk and The Shoebox Project from the HP fandom, which if you’ve read, you know are incredible and frankly life-changing. And this fanfic changed my life. The description the author gives doesn’t do the beauty of this fic justice. I suffer from agoraphobia and Spock’s depiction as an agoraphobic man was probably the most well-researched, sympathetic, empathetic, caring, realistic portrayal of what it’s like to be agoraphobic that I’ve ever witnessed in fiction. It made me cry like a child because I had never felt so seen and understood. This writer is incredible, and this fic is incredible. I can’t recommend it enough. It’s an AU, which I’m usually pretty wary about, but it barely even feels like an AU. It just feels like Jim and Spock. The author’s understanding of both of their characters’ is perfect, like just a spot-on portrayal of who they are. This fic genuinely helped me accept who I am and helped me understand that I am capable of & deserving of love. If you don’t read any other Star Trek fics (and you def should read more Star Trek fics because they’re amazing), then let this one be the one you read. I dare you not to read it three times in a row like I did.
Observations: First Officer Spock comments on life aboard the Enterprise and his service under Captain James T. Kirk; rated m; 500,000+ words.
So the author of this fic actually did a thing where they made this fic into two books (similar to what The Shoebox Project authors did many years ago in the HP fandom). They don’t get any money from people buying the books; the cost is just to go towards producing the books. This fic is the equivalent of two LARGE novels. We’re talking 600 pages & up. It’s a huge fic. Now, that being said, I read it in one day. ONE DAY. It’s that good. This is another one of my all-time favorite fics, though not quite as dear to my heart as the one I listed above. It’s focused on AOS, and tbh, I forget that what happens in this book isn’t actually canon. Like it’s so well-told, it just feels like it’s now part of the timeless story of Kirk & Spock. The “professional” Star Trek writers would never be brave enough to do what this author does with Kirk and Spock, though. This fic will make you angry, will make you laugh, will make you cry. It has such a good grasp on every single character. It also shows the love between the crew of the Enterprise, which is always a treat, and it’s beautifully done in this fic. It has a sorta-enemies-to-lovers arc between Spirk and an enemies-to-close-friends arc between Spock and McCoy that is beautifully done and fleshed out. This fic is definitely a journey to go through, and I can’t recommend it enough. It’s extremely slow burn, and you will want to slap both Kirk and Spock (and McCoy) upside the head at certain points lol.
Of Coffee Beans and Green Tea Leaves: The progression of a relationship, through Coffee Beans and Green Tea Leaves. Basically, it’s an AU where Kirk works at a coffee shop to pay his way through school, and Spock visits often. rated t; 16,429 words
Love, love, love, this fic. It’s cute, it’s in character. They have kind of a rocky start together, so it’s got a little bit of that Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy i-hated-you-but-now-i-love-you-marry-me vibes to it. I’m a sucker for that, if you haven’t figured that out by now lol. It’s really good, and a really enjoyable read. And it’s not too long, if you’re in the mood for something on the shorter end of things.
Please Don’t Touch the Vulcans: The "yes" is out of Jim's mouth before he can think about it. Jim is chipper about having time off for the holidays. He asks everyone if they want to spend time together but sadly, everyone ditches Jim over the holidays because they have plans. McCoy visits his daughter, Nyota visits her family, and everyone splits. Not knowing Spock has feelings for him, Jim doesn't even bother asking if he wants to spend time together figuring he has something to do. Something cute, romantic with the boys spending time with one another and confessions; rated m; 17,690 words
Super cute and has lots of Sarek, which idk about y’all, but I’m always a fan of. Sarek and Jim kind of get to know each other a bit, and it’s cute. Sarek knows about they’re in love before Spock & Kirk know lol. If I remember correctly, there’s also some appearances from everyone’s favorite: Old!Spock! You also get a little bit of jealous and protective Young!Spock. So you’re in for a real treat with this one.
The Ren shat’var Trilogy:
A split-second decision changes Jim's life forever, as he enters into a bond with Spock in the face of certain torture. Enemies to the Federation emerge from unlikely places, and the command team must contend with unexpected threats, as well as challenges within their own intense relationship. In this three-part series, the Enterprise races across the galaxy to confront the unknown, and Jim and Spock discover the true significance of their unprecedented connection; rated e; 184,411 words
Textual Attraction: Valentine’s Day does not bring up pleasant memories for Cadet Kirk. But the serendipitous switch-up of his cell phone with a particular Vulcan professor’s will make his day far more interesting –and romantic. Perhaps some new memories can be made! 15,900 words
SO GOOD. Just SO good
Spaceman: Academy AU. Five times Spock realizes he's attracted to a barista at the academy spaceport, and one time he decides to do something about it. rated t; 3728 words
Short, sweet, funny. You’ll love it.
Subtext: Texting your Vulcan first officer in the middle of the night is never a good idea. Especially when you have an obsessive crush on said Vulcan.The holidays are approaching and Jim is left entirely Spockless aboard the Enterprise when his First takes shore leave on New Vulcan. After some midnight pining, Jim sends a text he instantly regrets. That is, until Spock responds and willingly continues their textual communications to an inevitable conclusion; rated t; 13,032 words
Cute, sweet, funny. It’s a texting fic. I think you’ve probably figured out I love those. This one makes me laugh so fucking hard. Like actually laugh-out-loud-omg-did-i-just-snort kind of funny. Spock is great in this one
All Spock Wants For Christmas: While Jim is away on a delegation mission, he panics about what to give Spock for Christmas. With help from Bones and Uhura, and in between some spam texting with Spock, Jim realizes he already has the perfect gift. And all it needs is wrapping paper and a bow; rated t; 11,966 words
And here we have another cute, sweet, funny texting fic. Sue me lol
The Morning After: Jim convinces Spock to take shore leave with him on Risa, hoping the time together will help re-solidify their bond of friendship after some recent tension. Meanwhile, Spock convinces himself he's on Risa for one reason and one reason only, to prevent his wayward captain from getting into trouble.
After a passionately illogical night of Romulan Ale and chocolate infused liquor, everything changes when Jim wakes with something other than a hangover filling his head. Something he's sure neither he nor Spock can handle. Because if Jim knows anything for sure, it's that his messed up thoughts belong nowhere near Spock's clean, ordered mind; rated m; 50,381 words
HAHA. This fic fucking cracks me up. You’ve got drunk boys pining over each other & not realizing it. You’ve got accidental marriage. You’ve got bed sharing. It’s great, it’s cute, it’s funny.
Take This Sinking Boat (And Point It Home): In which Spock pines, Jim isn’t stupid (except he kind of is), and Christopher Pike has had enough of this bullshit; 6698 words
Pike is great in this one, and it’s super, super funny.
Extracurricular Activities: Spock returns to the Academy from a tour of duty to find an intriguing cadet captures his attention; rated e; 15,433 words
Veritas: Basically, Kirk and Spock are on trial because the Federation thinks they are emotionally compromised by each other, which is putting the lives of their crew in danger. They have to convince a court they’re not actually in love with each other. They think the claims are bullshit. They think it will be easy to prove that they aren’t in love or emotionally compromised, damn it. It isn’t; rated m; 186,80 words
This one is so, so good. A real gem off of Fanfic.net. I remember it was actually one of the first Spirk fanfics I ever read, and it blew me away. The progression of their relationship is really well-done and interesting. It has star-crossed lovers vibes and has some really emotionally intense moments in it, especially for Spock.
A Habitual Affection: Living in 1930s New York with the Vulcan you're secretly in love with is no simple thing. But Jim never liked anything simple. And then, the big snowstorm hit...; rated t; 7998 words
A beautiful TOS fic about one of the gayest episodes of Star Trek. Love this one.
Atlas: Between what was and what will be stands James Tiberius Kirk, in all his fractured patchwork glory. Because saving the Federation was only the beginning; rated t; 135,529 words
A beaut. Really great characterization, and the progression of Jim and Spock’s relationship is really well-done.
#spirk#spock#kirk#james t kirk#spock/kirk#kirk/spock#star trek#star trek tos#star trek aos#space husbands#spirk fanfic recs#spirk fanfic
629 notes
·
View notes
Text
kinktober: incest.
D A Y T H I R T Y - O N E ;
pairing: suna/reader
cw: incest, possessiveness, yandere!reader, blackmail, riding, creampie, mention of breeding.
wordcount: 1148
+ summary: you’re not too fond of all of your brothers stupid fangirls who think they have a shot with your niichan. so you decide to stake your claim.
⤿ kinktober masterlist.
© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.
The first time you hear them having sex, it fills you with unimaginable fury. He’s your niichan, there’s no reason he should have to go find another hole to stuff his fat cock into when your little cunt is perfectly good!
You’re a smart girl, so you do what any little sister in your position would do.
You set up a spy cam in your brothers bedroom to catch them in the act.
And the next time she came over, just like clockwork on a Friday night, to get railed by your brother. You put your headphones in and waited the night out, jaw clenched and taming all of your self control so you wouldn’t go running into his bedroom to rip the skank away from him.
When the morning came and you heard him leave to head off to the gym -- his usual schedule pre-practice for the day, you wandered into his room and pulled the camera down. She was still sleeping in the bed, tangled in his sheets, only stirring as you pulled the SD card out of the device.
“What’re you doin’ in here?” she griped, sitting up, holding the sheets against her chest to protect her modesty.
“Well,” you sigh, holding up the little chip, “I’m sick of you coming over here and screaming like a banshee whore all night, so I decided to record you--”
“You what?!” she shrieked, glaring at you, “You freak!”
“Are you done? Can I finish?” you roll your eyes, picking up her discarded clothing from the floor and tossing the articles at her, “So...as I was saying, I recorded you and I plan to send this little tape to your parents and all of your professors and headmaster just for extra flavor!”
Her jaw was set as he glared at you as hard as she could, making you grin, “What do you want?”
“I want you to dump my brothers, simple!” you shrug, laughing, “It’s not like you love him, right? You know...beyond his cock, right?”
She rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything, haphazardly throwing her clothes on before shoulder checking you on her way out the door. Once alone, you smile and change his sheets so everything is free and clear of her wretched scent.
It was only a couple hours later that your brother comes storming in, slamming the door as hard as he possibly can. You don’t even jump as he stomps right up to you, placing his hands on either side of you on the couch to lean in close to your face.
“Hi Rin-nii~” you greet with an impish grin.
“What did you do?” he glares, jaw set in a way that makes you squeeze your thighs together.
“What do you mean, niichan?” you shrug, reaching up to place your hand on his chest.
He sighs, narrowing his gaze at you, “You just love pissing me off, don’t you?”
“Sometimes,” you admit, “But this time I wasn’t trying to, I swear!”
“Then why the hell did you tell her to dump me?” he asks, one of his hands moving to cup your throat.
You bite your lip and look up at him, “Because you don’t need her, niichan~”
“You’re such a greedy little whore,” he snaps, tangling his fist in your hair to yank your head back.
His lips are on yours in a second and you squeal into the kiss, fisting his t-shirt to pull him even closer. His free hand finds its way to your shorts, tugging the fabric down. You eagerly lift your hips and spread your legs to let him stand between them.
“No panties,” he snarls, “Such a fucking slut.”
“Only for you, niichan~” you coo, nipping his bottom lip.
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything in response, choosing to pull his cock from his sweats. You’re already dripping wet for him, an effect of having him touch you so eagerly -- just like you’ve missed since that little bitch came into the picture.
“You’re so wet,” he snaps, “Is this why you acted like such a bitch, hm? Chasing my girlfriend off? Because niichan hasn’t been paying attention to your needy little cunt?”
You nod, jaw falling open when he pushes his cock inside -- the head pops in and your whole body seizes. He groans, curses as he forces his cock balls deep as you cum around him.
“Creaming all over me already?” he hisses, lightly slapping your cheek to feel the way you clench around him.
You nod, fisting his hair to pull him down for another kiss. He stalls inside you like that to change his grip to hold you beneath your knees, pinning your legs open lewdly before he starts fucking you with sharp thrusts of his hips.
You moan and whimper at every movement -- his cock curved to hit every spot inside you that had your eyes rolling back.
“Fuck, niichan~” you whine, “Y-You feel so good!”
“You’re making such a fucking mess,” he huffs, eyes locked on the way your juices froth at your entrance and stick to his skin in sloppy strings every time he pulls back, “Can’t cope with not being stuffed full of niichan’s cock for even a month? Pathetic. Disgusting little whore.”
“A-Ah niichan!” you giggle, hugging him close, “B-But you love fucking your little sister too, hm? You’re so hard~ You’re just as d-disgusting as me!”
His hand finds its way around your throat again, squeezing to keep you from talking. The little grin on your face only serves to make him fuck you harder, wanting to fuck the impudence out of you. Although, he knows you’re right because the fact of the matter is, his balls start tightening up as he gets closer to his orgasm.
“Fuck,” he breathes, leaning down to brush his lips against yours -- not initiating a kiss, just wanting to be closer to you, “Want you niichan to cum inside, hm? Will that make you feel better, you little brat?”
You nod, “Yes, niichan! Pl-Please breed me, breed your little sister, hm? Th-Then you can’t leave me~”
He groans, releasing your throat in favor of finding your clit -- slapping the sensitive bud a couple times to send you over the edge just as he stalls buried deep inside you. You feel his cum, hot against the inside of your cunt, and it makes you gush around him. He groans, grinding his hips to ease you through the intense orgasm as you squirt against his cock.
Both of you fall still and you sigh, watching him pull out -- a gush of his cum following. It makes you grin.
“See? You didn’t need a girlfriend after all, niichan!” you giggle, “And if you ever try and get one again, I’ll punish you…’kay?”
He rolls his eyes and tucks his cock away before sitting beside you.
“You’re such a greedy brat.”
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Emotional Loan [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]
Title: Emotional Loan [Yandere Ransom Drysdale x Reader]
Synopsis: You shouldn’t be this nervous about telling your boyfriend that you want to transfer to a college out of state. Ransom is nothing if not generous with you--so why is your stomach in knots?
Word Count: 3144
notes: yandere, sexism, emotional abuse
You shouldn’t be this nervous. Really. Ransom has been nothing but generous with you, and in turn you’ve been patient--maybe too patient, maybe too forgiving, sometimes--with him. It’s only fair that he extends that patience to you, especially with something as serious, as important, as your future.
So why does the thought of telling him about your plan to switch to a new college make you feel like you’re going to throw up?
You puff out your cheeks and stretch your arms across the breakfast table, leaning down and wishing you could ask someone else to tell him in person. But the thought is ridiculous, and you push it away in favor of rehearsing what you’re going to say for the millionth time since you made up your mind.
You will tell him about the need to change your degree if you want to ever be in the contending for a museum curator position in the future. You will tell him about the fact that the best place to get this specific degree, the one that will put you right in the open arms of the internship that leads to your dream curator field, is in California. You will tell him about the apartments you’ve already inspected. You will tell him about the fact that he can visit anytime, that you will visit him, that you can text and video call and vacation together. You will tell him that you love him and you want to make this work.
You will tell him all these things… and yet. Yet while you can rehearse the words, rehearse how you’ll push your printed out papers showing exactly what you need to do and why towards him so he can see you’re telling the exact truth, you can’t rehearse how Ransom will react. You try to imagine, but all that comes up is a blurry, grey blank.
Is he going to freak out? Get pissed? Or worse--not care at all? Maybe you’ve overestimated how much Ransom has invested in this relationship. Maybe he’d rather cut you loose than deal with a long distance relationship. Maybe the second you mention that you’ll be moving to California, he’ll be mentally checking a list for someone local to hook up with the minute you’re gone.
You’re not sure which reaction would scare you more.
But you don’t have much time to think about it, because you hear him padding down the stairs, hear the din of some video he’s still watching, probably whatever he put on while he was in the shower. You can’t bear to look up, and you thumb aimlessly, nervously around your phone’s apps while you listen to the sound of him scraping the eggs and bacon you’d cooked onto a plate.
He plops down in the seat across from you and you glance up. He catches your eye and gives a tight-lipped, tired smile. He was out late. But he’d texted you about staying out late earlier in the evening, so you didn’t feel you had the right to be mad--that’s the condition you’d given him, after all, when he’d accused you of being controlling. When he’d called you a nag and accused you of being jealous of other women, women he had no feelings for.
“I just want to know when you’re going to be out late so I don’t stay up half the night thinking you’re dead somewhere.” And so he did--let you know--and you swallowed down your feelings of suspicion at his late night adventures.
Maybe… maybe this is a bad time to tell him. Maybe you should wait for a day when he’s had more sleep. Maybe you should run your thoughts by someone else, get a second opinion. You’re focusing on the table, on the light from the phone screen, anything to avoid looking up and starting the dreaded conversation.
“What’re those papers for, babe?”
Shit.
Your hands tremble just a bit when you set the phone down, and the way it vibrates against the table mimics the way your stomach feels right now. You suck in a breath and look up, but you can’t make eye contact just yet and you push the words out, stumbling and breathy and rapid, without stopping to breathe until you’ve said your peace.
“Ransom this is really hard for me but we need to talk about something and I don’t want you to be mad but I need to change schools if I’m ever going to get a shot at a curator position and the best school for this is in California and I know it’s going to be hard but I love you--I love you and we can make long distance work if you want and if you don’t want well--well I don’t know what I’ll do then but I just wanted to let you know now because I’ve got to turn in my application next week and please please try to see this from my point of view because it’s all I’ve ever wanted and you know that.”
You take a shaky breath and hold your hands together on top of the table, clasped and shaking from the adrenaline and anxiety coursing through you. You look up at Ransom with trepidation, hoping that he’s not mad--or indifferent.
But he’s neither. He simply looks… confused.
He simply stares at you for a moment, a dumbfounded expression on his face as he processes all of the words that just came rapid-fire out of your mouth.
“California?” Is all he says, finally.
You take the opportunity to push the stack of printed papers towards him. “These are… it’s… well, emails from people in the industry, some important articles about getting positions at museums. About where you have to go. Oh, there’s apartment listings there, too.” You even printed out detailed information about the qualifications for acceptance, and put them in a neat little table next to your own academic and experience record. You were a shoo-in, and you didn’t feel the need to be humble about it.
He grabs the stack and starts thumbing through, not saying another word as he seemingly thoroughly reads everything you’ve printed out. Your stomach feel like floating lead, heavy and flipping. You can’t tell what he’s thinking or feeling, and he’s not giving you anything but a concentrated look at he looks through the statements, the listings, the plan you’ve outlined so neatly.
He finally sets the stack back down and simply stares at it for a few moments. Taking it in. Taking his thoughts in. Finally, Ransom looks up at you and the intensity in his eyes makes your stomach drop. He doesn’t look mad. He looks--and you hate it--disappointed, sad even.
“Look…” He sighs, eyebrows lifting as his gaze drifts away before settling back on you. “I’m not going to lie and pretend I’m okay with this. I’m not. Jesus, babe. California? Four years?”
“It’s no--” you interrupt, but he holds up his hand and you stop.
“But. But, but,” he lightly pounds his fist on the stack of tables, an almost nervous gesture in your eyes. “It’s what you want? What you need for your career? There’s no other way for you to get this--” he waves his hands around, “museum gig you’re after?”
You nod, unable--no, afraid--to speak, in case your voice is too tight with emotion.
“Then I guess I can deal with it.”
“What?” You blurt the words out. You expected… an argument. Or for him to blow you off, make it seem like you weren’t serious. Or, as you’d admitted to yourself earlier, for him to throw you away and find someone who wouldn’t make him wait around. Not… acceptance.
He laughs at your reaction and your stomach feels lighter, the tension in your body starting to fizzle away. “
“It’s not like I have to worry about getting the money to come visit, right? And hey,” he continues, “if you need someone to put in a good word to this school… maybe throw some cash at a dean or something…” He raises his eyebrows, wiggling them a little in a way that makes you snort.
You lean forward and nab one of the lukewarm pieces of scrambled eggs from his plate and pop it into your mouth. “Since you’re offering to help, I could use someone to check over my application…”
**
The envelope is too small. It’s way too small. Why did they make the envelope so damn small? Maybe the acceptance letter was sent on its own, and all of the other information--the giant packet telling you where to send payments and sign up for courses--would be sent to your email. But the thought of checking your email and seeing nothing makes you feel sick, so you keep your phone next to you on the table.
“You gotta open it,” Ransom says, soft and casual. He doesn’t move from his place beside you on the sofa, watching you with a neutral look. He probably knows why the envelope is too small, but he won’t say the words out loud--just like you won’t. If you say it out loud, then it’s true.
There's nothing else for you to do except confront the truth, and you rip open the envelope and pull out the folded paper with far too few printed words on the page.
Rejected. Outright. Completely. Not a fit for the school or the program.
If you weren’t sitting on the couch, you would have fallen over. As it is, you feel like the world is collapsing, like the sofa underneath you is melting into the floor and taking you with it.
“I don’t understand.” You can only manage to whisper, voice small--reflecting the way the rest of you feels. Small and falling and stupid.
Ransom takes the paper from your hand, and you don’t bother keeping a grip on it. You register the fact that he’s put an arm around your shoulders, but you can barely feel it through the numbness of rejection.
“What the fuck,” he says, voice louder next to your ear. It makes you shrink in more, even though his anger isn’t directed at you. “What the fuck.”
It’s you want to say, what you would say, if you had the strength. The energy. But the absolute, complete way that your future has suddenly become an unknown blank has left you stuck and heavy.
It doesn’t make sense. Your transcript was perfect--should have been perfect. You should have gotten in. You got top grades and references from professors and a list of relevant experiences that most students wouldn’t have until the end of their degree.
“I’m going to call them and find out what-the-fuck,” Ransom says suddenly, getting up with a jerking motion and walking towards the kitchen, where his phone rests on the counter. “No,” he says, clicking his tongue. “Better yet. I’ll call my grandfather. He’ll know how to convince this so-called top school that they made a big mistake.”
The thought makes your head spin. “Ransom, don’t.” You’re not a child. But you feel like one, like you just failed a math quiz and your dad is calling to find out why the teacher doesn’t know the quiz answers from his ass. “You can’t just call a school and make them accept someone.”
Your legs feel wobbly when you stand up, and Ransom practically swoops back to your side to hold you steady. He leads you back down on the sofa and you feel yourself accepting the loss, accepting that your dream is gone, or at least altered.
He squeezes an arm around you when you finally begin to cry, and for the moment you feel better, less worthless, less hopeless. It was just one rejection. One egg. You can’t put every egg in one basket, as they say.
You rest your head against his shoulder and sigh into it, enjoying the warmth and closeness. A feeling of luck pings at your heart. You’re really lucky to have a guy like Ransom. He’s not perfect, and sometimes you fight, and sometimes he does things that hurt you, but--are you perfect? Do you do things that hurt him, too? Don’t put all your eggs in one basket, and don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
With comfort comes clarity. The world isn’t ending. Your future isn’t blank. There are other options.
You feel almost perked up when you speak: “I guess I can apply to other schools. Maybe it won’t be the exact one I wanted but… there’s some in Chicago, even Michigan, that might work.”
Ransom’s arm tightens around you, slightly but firmly enough to notice.
“Babe, you’re not serious.”
You pull back enough to look up at his face.
“What do you mean?”
You can see Ransom fighting with his annoyed expression, trying to soften it up. You dimly recognize that you should be grateful--you know how snarky he can get with others when he’s not putting on a filter.
“Your transcript was fucking impeccable. I saw it! I sent it in for you! And you still didn’t get in. You think these other schools are going to accept you….” He trails off, leaning his head back, looking disappointed of all things. Disappointed in you? Or the school? You can’t tell. All you know is that it makes you feel low again, like you’re nothing, falling into the floor with a sense of worthlessness.
“I’m not tryin’ to be an asshole,” he says, and there’s a flicker of doubt in your mind about the truth of that statement. “I’m just trying to be honest. I don’t want you to have to deal with getting rejected from all those other schools, too. You know what I mean?”
You swallow down against the tightness in your throat. “Their standards might not be as strict. I know they’re not as strict. I could get in.”
He looks down at you, the same intense gaze from the morning that you told him about your plan on his face. The gaze that let you know he believed in you and would do anything--even go long distance for almost half a decade--for you. A gaze that let you know he was serious, honest, giving you his thoughts with an open heart. “Keyword. Could.”
It’s like a slap to the face.
“Are you saying I’m too stupid to get in anywhere?” You start to pull away, but his arms don’t let up and so all you can do is turn your head away, cheeks hot with humiliation. “Don’t you support me?”
“Jesus, no--and Jesus, yes.” Annoyance is bleeding into his voice and you wish you’d just ripped up the envelope and avoided the entire conversation. You keep your eyes on the floor, humiliating tears blurring your vision as you stare at the sliver of a stain from soda that you never got out of the cream colored rug.
“You are the smartest chick I know,” he says, voice a little softer, now. At least he’s trying to stop being an ass. “Seriously, you are. Maybe you’re just a--a different kind of smart. A kind of smart these schools don’t give a shit about. Do something here with that smartness, then. Stay where you’re at. Fuck, talk to the dean and tell them you want to to an independent degree or something. But don’t get your heart broken a million times when you could just make the most of what you’ve got here.” He squeezes, affectionate. “What we’ve got here.”
It’s not what you want. It’s not viable. You can’t get to where you want to be if you stay where you are. But he’s right--he’s right, isn’t he, because if you can’t get into a school with a nearly picture-perfect record and recommendations and experience oozing out of your ears, will there be any school that accepts you?
And if you stay here, Ransom is here, and you’re already in school here, and maybe you won’t get anywhere near a curator position (but you want to, it’s your dream, why give up on your dream?) but you can do something else, surely. Ransom will help you, like he always does. You might fight and argue and sometimes it gets intense but he always lends you a shoulder to cry on, doesn’t he? He’s always honest with you, even when it hurts. Even when it hurts like this, crushing and disappointing and sharp.
He pulls you closer to him, and this time you don’t fight as you rest your head back on his shoulder.
“So?” He starts to gently stroke your hair, the way he knows you like it.
You nod, sniffling against the last of the tears, unable--afraid--to say anything.
“That’s my girl,” he says, before gently flicking your forehead and reaching for his phone. “Hey, let’s go see a movie tonight. My treat.”
You nod against his shirt, unable to do more than mumble back, “Okay.” Okay, okay, okay. It’s a soft, unceremonious end to your California dreams.
207 notes
·
View notes
Text
vexation | hyunjin
❀ genre; smut, college au, enemies au
❀ pairing; hyunjin x reader (fem)
❀ word count; 2.7k
[warning] strong language, explicit sexual content, dry humping, (mild) begging, hate sex
There it was: Hwang Hyunjin, name beautifully printed right above yours. You shuddered in complete disgust, not believing that you were paired with him of all people for your history presentation. There were 34 students in the class; that meant you had a whopping 97% chance of being paired with literally anyone else, but no. Your professor, Dr. Zhang, just had to pair you with him.
Overachiever: that was an understatement. He was the type to want all of the glory for the taking, the type to enjoy making others feel like they were dumb, the type who had no issue in forsaking common morals for his own gain.
You couldn’t fucking stand him.
Begrudgingly, you stood up from your original seat, trudging your feet to sit next to him - at your professor’s instruction, of course. You planned on at least being polite, and you thought for a second that he might do the same, but he didn’t even bother looking at you, staring through to the front of the room, eyes stoic. If he was trying to provoke you, it was definitely working.
You dropped your backpack to the ground, unceremoniously, sound drowning in the increasing levels of chatter in the small lecture hall, but clearly loud enough to make his composure teeter; his head jerked back a millimeter, a minuscule gesture but it was painfully obvious to you. And you let out an equally obvious slew of snickers before sitting back in the seat, neck meeting the old frayed fabric as you tilted your head back, arms stacking on one another as you folded them, woman spreading to occupy more real estate than you actually required.
You had to at least try to keep yourself amused.
Hyunjin began scribbling mindlessly on a blank piece of paper - still acting as if you were not even there.
He slammed the white sheet down on your knee, sending vibrations straight up your leg rather rudely.
Asshole.
Oh, baby, he hadn’t even started yet.
“Okay. We’re doing our paper on I-Hotel and… I’m gonna write it. All you have to do is find these books for me at the library.” He turned to look at you with a very aggravating smirk… maybe you’d notice the tiniest hint of flirtation if the feeling of overwhelming irritation didn’t encompass you.
But the chance passed when his countenance morphed into counterfeit concern, tapping his chin in contemplation for added effect, “although, I think the library’s computer system is down… I guess you gotta find them the old-fashioned way.” God, you just wanted to smack that smug grin right off his face. “I’d love to help you with that... but I’m just too busy…” It should’ve been illegal for intolerable people to be that gorgeous.
You blinked in complete confusion. “Ummm… excuse me?”
“I’m… sorry… do… I… need… to … talk… slower…?”
You gingerly picked up the piece of paper, promptly getting up from your chair, glaring at him. You made sure your backpack was secure on your shoulder before dramatically lifting the note in front of his face to tear what he wrote to shreds, scattering the bits over his laptop’s keyboard. “Stick a motherfucking cactus up your ass.”
You stormed out of that hall with your head high, not daring to look back despite your innate desire to see his response - you were sure it was priceless.
‘I’ll just have to do this damn thing on my own.’
Oh, if it could only be that simple.
The first thing that popped up on your laptop when you opened it from the safety of the library was an unexpected email.
Since you ripped up my list - rather rudely I might add - I’ve attached the list of the books I require. I will be at the library at four PM sharp. Please plan accordingly.
Hyunjin
“Fuck.”
‘Plan accordingly,’ your ass, according to you, your plan was to minimize the amount of time you had to spend dealing with Hyunjin, and you had been 100% sure he had the same sentiment… so much for that.
Speaking of the devil, as soon as you decided to dismiss his outlandish request and settle in to get some of your research started, Hyunjin yanked your attention away from your laptop with merely his presence, almost as if your nerves were hypersensitive to his saccharine dipped aura, and most definitely not to the signature sway of his frame as he walked.
You didn’t dare grant him the luxury of your direct gaze. Instead, you kept a close eye on him in your peripheral, hoping you’d blend in with the people around you… but there was still at least a 92% chance he’d see you.
“Did you get my sources?” and now he was right in front of you, nothing but a measly table in between.
Your nostrils flared in an effort to not retort back at Hyunjin, eyes still fixed on your screen in a successful attempt to ignore him.
Then he pushed your laptop closed, hand planted firmly on the device rather invasively. “Excuse me, I’m talking to you.”
You gritted your teeth, tilting your head up in a menacing stare, eyes narrowing, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you want?”
God, you didn’t know his smile could get more fake than it already was. “I told you to get my sources for me,” his tone was exaggeratedly slow, “did you get my sources?”
You shoved his hand away from your laptop. “Get your own sources.”
Immediately his fake smile turned into a sincere snicker, rolling his eyes off to the side. “Uptight bitch.”
His words sank in for a moment. “You wanna say that again?”
He leaned over the table, face a mere six inches from yours. “Uptight,” you could feel your fists involuntarily clenching, digging into your palms what would soon be prominent crescents in a matter of seconds, “bitch.”
You almost raised your palm to gratuitously slap him across the face but the simmering mellowness in you kept a tight grasp of your boiling anger. You leaned back in your seat in an effort to widen the physical gap (or the lack thereof) between you. “Fuck off.”
<><><><><><>
“Hyunjin, y/n, can you both come down to the podium,” Dr. Zhang added at the end of his lecture, halting your plans to b-line straight to the library.
As the aisles began to empty, you made your way down the steps to the front of the room, purposefully standing at the side opposite of Hyunjin, frankly paying no mind to him for all intents and purposes.
Your professor glanced between you two, clearly noticing the oddity of the image but purposefully choosing to ignore it.
“I noticed that both of you submitted first drafts for your paper, and at first I thought it was an accident, until I opened both files and realized you’re writing completely separate papers. Care to explain?”
“Yeah y/n, care to explain?” What a fucking dicktard.
Your lips pressed into a thin line as you wracked your brain for some feasible excuse. “Well,” but nothing came to mind… oh fuck it, “we’ve had issues working with each other.”
Dr. Zhang raised an eyebrow cautiously. “Elaborate.”
“We really don’t get along.”
He sighed, crossing his arms. “Well you’re gonna have to try to find some middle ground. I’ll give you two a second chance to put a first draft together. If you can submit a collaborative piece by midnight, I’ll still give you full credit for that part. If not, it stays as a zero. Subsequently, you will keep getting zeroes for the following checkpoints if you submit them separately. Any questions?”
“No, sir,” much to your surprise, that was the first moment thus far wherein both you and Hyunjin were on the same wavelength.
“Good, that is all.”
You felt like two negatively charged magnets as you walked side by side up the aisle to the exit. “I’m not getting a zero for this,” Hyunjin spoke up.
You rolled your eyes. “At least we can agree on that.”
As the cold, crisp air of the outside refreshed your nerves, he lightly gripped your shoulder, swerving you to face him. “Look, I know we’re like oil and water, but I’m willing to at least try to get along for the grade.” His fingers trembled on your shoulder; his teeth lightly grazed his bottom lip, eyes searching yours for a sign of truce.
Needless to say, the sentiment from him was unexpected. You exhaled deeply, brushing his hand from you. “Fine.”
<><><><><><><>
But two hours spent alone in a library study room proved to be more difficult than originally anticipated. Trying to work together felt like pulling teeth - a true collaboration of absolute vexation.
“What about this passage?” You pointed to some text in a book you were sifting through.
He swiveled his chair around, only looking at your find for a solid half a second before, turning back around. “Nah, that’s not good enough to use as evidence.”
“What the fuck, Hyunjin? You didn’t even read it.”
“I didn’t have to. I assumed whatever you found was as subpar as everything else you’ve ‘found.’”
You dropped the book on the table with a loud plonk, partially in shock at what he said and partially due to a natural tendency to want to irritate him. “Well let’s see what you ‘found,’” leaning over the table in a relaxed manner, carrying a dash of nonchalance as you scrolled through his writing. “You call this good evidence?”
“What on earth are you talking about?” You wanted to laugh at his defensive tone.
“It’s obvious that you’re framing your own narrative by taking shit outta context. Not to mention all the ellipses and brackets are terrifically horrendous, visually. You’re taking literally all the credibility out.”
“What do you know? I doubt you even read that article,” he dismissed your legitimate critique in a manner you unfortunately predicted.
“As a matter of fact, I did… two. hours. ago. And you told me the article didn’t seem ‘reliable’ enough for you, but here you are… you must think I’m fucking stupid.”
The side of his lips curved up in the slightest smirk. “Not true, I think you’re annoyingly absentminded.”
You rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time in the past minute, whispering, “fucking cockmaggot,” under your breath, diverting your attention back to your screen.
“What did you just say?” His tone suggested he wasn’t being rhetorical - he really didn’t hear you. There was something cute and innocent about his ignorance, the way his lips formed a subtle pout unintentionally, nose wrinkling in distaste. You mentally shook the image from your head, cursing yourself for thinking he was… ‘cute’ to begin with.
“Nothing, My Liege, nothing at all,” mocking sarcasm spilled from your lips as you parted them to give them a disapproving smack. “This is complete shit; we can’t submit this.”
Hyunjin slammed his laptop closed, standing up abruptly. The action took you by surprise, making your neck shudder in a startle. “I can’t fucking do this anymore. Why do you have to be so fucking difficult?” Pent up rage was slathered all over his face, eyes twitching, eyebrows tightly knitting together, jaw unhinging from an excess of epinephrine.
His anger diffused to you, violently charging your nerves. There was no way you were just gonna take his shit sitting down. “Why do you,” you stood up, chair rocking back from the velocity of your limbs, “have to be,” you turned around and gripped his collar with both hands, “such an insufferable asshole?”
He was dumbfounded, wordless much to your satisfaction, but his eyes were unwavering, devoid of reaction. The time you spent stabbing each other with your unfaltering gazes felt like a goddamn eternity, tension coarse, sinfully tangible on your skin.
It was fucking stifling.
Before you even realized what was happening, your lips were latched together in a fervent frenzy, tension thickening for an entirely different reason now.
There was something so breathtaking about the way his lips tightened against yours - literally. It felt like he was siphoning your soul from your body - any thought that dared to grace your mind oddly dissolved into nothingness as Hyunjin molded your lips into submission, tongue colonizing your oral cavity in an authoritative manner that was so in character for him.
Not that you gave a fuck.
His hands aggressively tugged at your waist; the impact of your body crashing onto his sent pangs up your spine, and in seconds, your back thudded against the wall, maintaining the momentum. You had to grip his shoulders purely for support, and definitely not because you were immersing in the moment.
You felt his grip loosen as his hands roamed downward, playfully drawing patterns on your skin with his fingers en route. And then they constricted around your thighs, lifting them up to his hips, and you hooked your ankles around his back as if it was the natural thing to do.
The fabric of his pants became taut around the building frustration underneath, becoming oh so apparent to you when he started steady grinding against the thin fabric of your underwear - why did you have to wear a skirt today of all days?
You passed a reluctant whimper through his lips, wholly unable to deny the way your pulsing desire radiated heat through your core at the increasing friction.
You broke away from the kiss, gasping. “Hyunjin…” you whispered almost breathlessly, desperation filling you as he continued his tantalizing test of your patience.
“Hmmm?” There it was: that signature smug grin, but by this point, your senses were too preoccupied to even register it.
“I can’t take this anymore.”
“Is that so?” He lifted you off the wall, pushing your laptops to either side so he could lay you on the table, spreading your legs to give him clear sight of your dampening sex. He snickered. “You look much better like this…” While ghosting one hand around your inner thighs, conveniently avoiding the place you needed him the most, he undid the button and zipper of his jeans with the other, sliding them down to his knees.
You found yourself licking your lips at the silhouette of his bulge, now more prominent with less restricting fabric. Of course, he noticed; “so these are you true colors… I never would’ve thought you were such a dirty girl.” He brushed his fingers over the waistband of your underwear. “Where do you need me?” He pressed his thumb on your clit, “here?”
Your teeth pressed down on your lips in an effort to stifle a moan. “Yes…” and even though you were successful the first time, there was no stopping the sounds from seeping through your lips when Hyunjin slammed his clothed erection on you once more, picking up exactly where he left off just moments ago.
“Please, Hyunjin…” he pushed your thighs further apart, keeping them in place.
“‘Please,’ what?”
“I need you inside me, please.”
His sinister laugh filled the small room. “I don’t know if you deserve it.”
“Fucking asswipe.”
“Now that doesn’t sound very convincing…”
You groaned in pleasurable displeasure. “Hyunjin… please, I’m begging you. I really can’t take this.”
“Don’t you care if someone tries to come in?” He raised an eyebrow, partially in curiosity, mostly in amusement.
You glared right into his eyes. “No.”
He shook his head, clicking his tongue as he stood back. “Get up.” Any urge you had to defy him before was long gone; you did as he asked and he harshly turned you around by your waist, pushing you toward one of the windows.
While pushing you down against the glass with one hand, he reached in his front pocket with the other, grabbing a condom. He ripped the packaging with his teeth, skillfully sliding his boxers down to slip the vinyl over him.
Not wanting to wait any longer, you aided him by pulling your panty down leaving yourself completely exposed for his taking, and you quickly pushed your hands on the glass, bracing yourself for the next few seconds, but nothing could’ve prepared you for that stretch that came. Your wrist slid down on the window pane to bite back a scream.
“So tight.”
><><><><><><><
A/N I’mma be honest: I had a fucking field day coming up with all those weird insults
#hyunjin smut#hyunjin college au#hyunjin#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin imagine#hyunjin scenario#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x you#stray kids#stray kids smut#stray kids college au#stray kids scenario#stray kids imagine#skz scenario#skz smut#skz imagine#skz college au#bangchan smut#lee know smut#changbin smut#han smut#seungmin smut#lee felix smut#jeongin smut
782 notes
·
View notes
Text
attitude.
a/n: i had to edit this so many times for a month.
word count: 2.1k
genre: smut, nsfw
warnings: dubcon kinda, daddy kink, masturbation, semi public, slight exhibitionism, slight sexism, degradation, slight dacryphilia, angry fucking
pairing: ukai x f!reader
you open the door to the shop, greeted by the guy you knew too well, only that his whole face is hidden behind the newspaper, obvious that he is smoking a cigarette from the smell that stings your nose and the smoke around him. you aren’t having the best of days so naturally, you begin to rant about the hard ass professor from your class. you glance at your boyfriend mid-rant, who still has his nose stuck on the article.
“he didn’t like my proposal and he had the audacity to say some misogynistic shit like, the amount of makeup i wore to class and all that shit.” you continue, but the other party only hums in response.
“like, what does that have to do with my work? he probably thinks that i’m some kind of a bimbo. it’s ridiculous– keishin, are you even listening to me?”
ukai puts out his cigarette on the ashtray and flipped through the paper and nods, “yeah, i hear you.”
“well, you could’ve said something to make me feel better.” you grunt, crossing your arms across your chest as your eyes glare through the papers in search of ukai’s face as if you have the ability to see through objects.
“don’t look at me like that.” he replies all too knowingly though not even bothering to spare you a glace ever since you step inside his store.
“then what did i say?” it’s stupid to ask such question. you’re willing to bet that he isn’t actually listening nor interested to partake in the conversation. it happened sometimes and it drives you nuts and upset altogether.
ukai shrugs and turns the next page, “something about your professor.”
“…..and?” you tap your foot on the floor, starting to lack in patience.
“and, i’m just not good in multitasking so i couldn’t really listen to you while reading.”
“you fucking asshole,” you cuss. “i worked my ass off day and night, sometimes it doesn’t work out and when that happens, i really hoped that you would be there and cheer me up but now you just decided that you won’t even spare a few minutes to put down the paper and listen to me? hell, this happened a lot of times already. are you also stressed out like me? from sitting in front of the fucking register and smoking all day?”
“you probably should tell that to your professor instead,” he answers nonchalantly which annoys you even further. “jeez, and i probably should’ve dated someone my age.” he says lowly under his breath, but just enough for you to hear it clearly, even from behind the newspaper.
“excuse me?” you can’t believe what you heard, your fists clench on your sides and your breathing quickens. if the fact that he was not listening to you is the final straw, this takes the whole damn cake.
“yeah, maybe you could try. no one around your age would date you– not with this shitty job you have. at this point, i just wonder when the fuck are you gonna get cancer.” you snap. “at least i know there are tons of guys in my class that would want to date and fuck me. but nooo, i chose you instead. so, fuck you, keishin. just–fuck! you!”
as you are about to turn your heels around and storm off the store, ukai’s chair screeches as he stands up and grips your wrist from behind the counter, causing your body to yank backwards. ukai presses your cheeks together with his other free hand and tilts your head up to force you to look at him. his eyes are filled with ire– they are so cold and filled with rage at the same time, it’s actually sending chills down your spine.
“is it my fault that you have daddy issues? is it my fault that you like older men like me?” he sneers.
a pool of tears are slowly beginning to form in your eyes. it isn’t because you are remotely afraid but more of a natural reaction when you get furious.
“oh now you’re gonna cry?”
the thought of your black mascara running down your face together with your salty tears delights the man himself and you know this too well as you can see it in his face. giving in to that would be a mistake and you would hate to give him the pleasure.
“who taught you to speak to me like that?”
you turn your face away to the side to release from his grip and shoot him a murderous glare with all the courage instill in you, “you deserved it, asshole.”
ukai raises his brow, unsatisfied. his grip on your wrist tightens more as you struggle to pull away.
“let go.”
“i don’t think so,” he chuckles sardonically as he slips out from his apron. “that mouth is good for one thing and one thing only,” ukai turns to walk out from the register and stands intimidatingly tall in front of you, “and you know what that is.”
“well, i don’t know. like, eating, talking?” you blurt out. maybe if you annoy him more, he would let it go– seeing how he is not putting up with your shit earlier, you don’t think he would take this any further either.
however, he scoffs hearing your witty answer because you are actually pushing his buttons instead. “wrong answer, brat.”
ukai forces you down on your knees by the wrist and quickly unbuckles his belt, dropping down his jeans and boxers together at just the right length to only be able take out his cock. he grabs you by the hair and yanks you forward, “now, suck.”
“w-wait–”
“did i fucking stutter?” he warns as he tugs your hair tighter and it stings you a bit.
you think it is best to quickly oblige so you take his cock in your hands, your tongue teasingly licks the bead of precum on the tip. ukai breathes out a mixture of a frustrated and relieved groan at the tease, causing him to push your head closer while he bucks his hips forwards to shove more of his throbbing cock inside your mouth and causing you to gag a little as he hits the back of your throat.
“fuck– that’ll make you shut up. come on. show me what that pretty little mouth can do.” you bob your head faster along his cock, your hand fondles his balls while the other presses on his length to add pressure. he throws his head back and grips your hair tighter each time he lets out a breathy moan.
a lewd pop sound slips out from your mouth as he pulls his cock away. ukai’s lips curls into a grin as you look up at him with glassy eyes and your mascara a bit smudged. beautiful, he thought, just the way he likes it.
“get up, slut.”
you comply submissively, slowly getting back up and let him push and bend you against the counter. ukai lifts up your skirt, smirking as he sees a dark patch formed on your panties, he can’t help but to tease your wet slit by circling his fingers against the thin fabric.
you feel a wave of anticipation at the soft touch that your breathing begins to hitch. you glance at the clock on the wall, 20 more minutes before the shop closes. what are the odds that people will still come in at this hour?
“so fucking wet already. what am i gonna do with you?”
you want him to take you right there and then but you want him to stop at the same time, in fear that customers might still come into the shop and the thoughts are colliding with each other.
“kei– there’s still a few minutes left…” by the look of your face, your half-lidded eyes, ukai knows that you actually want this.
“and what about it?” he teases as he pulls your panties to the side and slips one finger inside your sloppy cunt. “wouldn’t you like it if people see you being fucked so hard like a little whore?” his finger is pushing in and out repetitively before putting in another finger and continues fingering you mercilessly.
having ukai to finger you like this in public feels so good– actually better than you imagine. the thought of not trying to get caught having your legs spread out for this man is giving you a rush of excitement as you try to hold your moans down your throat.
unfortunately, ukai is not happy about it and begins to rub his thumb on your clit. “let me hear you, baby. you didn’t seem to mind when you were shouting at me earlier.”
“i’m– ah– sorry..” you begin, between breaths.
“sorry what?” you shut your eyes close as your hips subconsciously buck towards his fingers, only to have him pull them out instantly. with his other hand, he presses your cheeks again and forces you to look at him.
“i’m sorry, daddy.” you plea.
“you look so pretty like this, princess. but your attitude displeased me.” he loves having control over all of you and keeping you grounded. “you wanna cum?”
“please.”
“do it yourself.” ukai steps back and watches you sit up on the counter with trembling legs and struggle to make yourself cum only from pumping your own fingers inside your wet cunt.
“you’re so wet, princess. i don’t think you need my cock for that.” he continues with prying eyes as he watches you with lustful eyes, one of his hand pumping his hard cock as your body arches and trembles in front of him, trying to push yourself to edge but with no avail.
“daddy, i want to cum.”
“and how am i supposed to do that?” he coos.
“please, daddy. i need your fat cock inside me.”
with one swift movement, ukai pulls down your panties and lifts one of your legs up to his shoulder, spreading your thighs apart. just as much as he likes to make you wait and begging for his thick cock, how could he not fuck you immediately? he can’t make himself wait either.
the shop begins to be filled by your restricted moans, careful not to let any possible people outside the shop to hear you as ukai fucks you shamelessly. you have your elbows to support your uncomfortable posture but you pay no mind to it as his cock fills every inch of you, reaching for the very place that your own fingers can’t. the both of you start to hear faint chatters from outside and you hope that they are just passing by.
however, ukai takes this chance to quicken his pace.
“let me hear you, baby. tell everyone– ah– how good daddy makes you feel.” he says between grunts while he starts to rub and press down your clit with his thumb.
“daddy, please, please, please–” you whisper, fists clenching to nothing, toes curling in your shoes. your eyes glances towards the door as the chatters and footsteps outside start to become gradually louder with each passing second.
“look at me,” ukai spanks your thigh, “wanna give them a show?”
“no..” you mutter through soft moans. though the thought of getting caught red handed is humiliating, it’s also arousing to you and your walls start to clench tighter around his cock.
“god, you’re getting tighter– you like that huh?” he hisses. “such a fucking slut.”
you can feel your juices dripping down his length as he adjusts his angle before giving you more intense thrusts that just hit the right places at the right pace. your legs are trembling and you can feel that you are getting closer to an orgasm and at this point, you can’t be bothered to worry anymore as your mouth lolls open to chant his name in a chorus.
you can feel that ukai is also getting close as you are as you feel him throbbing inside you. having his teeth nibbling on your thigh is enough to push you over the edge and your mouth opens in a silent scream as you cum hard. he smirks proudly and gives a couple more thrusts before he also winds up to a state of euphoria himself with his hot ropes of cum filling up your cunt.
panting, ukai waits for a second to finish before pulling himself out and puts on his pants before helping to adjust your clothes.
“you’re an idiot.” you push yourself off the counter and lightly punch him on the chest, earning a small chuckle from the male– the first time you heard today.
“call me that again and we are gonna have round two, brat.”
“coach!” an orange-haired boy beams as he opens the door, sending a jolt of surprise to the two of you. from the looks of his face, you manage to conclude that he didn’t hear or even had the slightest clue about what happened. you sigh in relief.
“what? shop’s closed!” ukai quickly says before ushering the poor boy out.
duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.
#ukai x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#keishin ukai#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!! x reader#ukai keishin#hq#hq!!#haikyuu fic#haikyuu!! fic#fic rec haikyuu#haikyuu smut#haikyuu!! smut#ukai smut#hq!! smut#robinwrites#r; writes#tw; dubcon
950 notes
·
View notes
Note
meet cute number 47 is interesting!
send me a writting ask
47. Texting the incorrect number but continuing the conversation.
“You got all that, right?” Shinsou asks, readjusting his stance, so others can leave their classroom door easily.
Midoriya hums absentmindedly. He’s still quickly jotting down the last few digits onto his planner. “And, you said tomorrow morning, around 7? At the library?”
“Yeah,” Shinsou shrugs, “Or anytime really. The deadline isn’t until next month, you know.”
“I kinda just want to get it done, as soon as possible.”
Shinsou breathes out a snort. “Figured you’d say that much. Just make sure you got my number. Repeat it, if you need to.”
“No time.” Midoriya drops his bag to the side, shoving his now closed notebook inside. “Thank you! I’ll text you later tonight!” He offers hurriedly, before taking off down the campus halls.
Shinsou’s warning falls deaf to his rushed mind.
He has to run the entire way, in order to graciously catch the last bus for the hour. Sweaty and flushed, Midoriya slumps into his seat in relief. Fortunately, he was able to cop a seat for himself, settling by the window and his backpack right next to him.
Staring out, Midoriya tries to remind himself of the rest of his priorities he needed to do.
He still needed to start on Doctor Chiyo’s online Physiology exam, and gather his notes for the open book portion. It was a bit bothersome to handle tests online, but if the rest of class prefers it, there’s nothing Midoriya can do about it.
Speaking of which, Ochako had requested for copies of those exact same notes, since apparently she barely writes anything during lectures. He wants to suggest to her to just simply take better notes, but alas, he will gladly help her out.
And, finally, Midoriya has to collect reliable, approved research articles for his and Shinsou’s debate, in their argumentative project in Communications. Being assigned “PRO SOCIAL MEDIA INFLUENCE”, while being the most uninvolved people on the internet, Midoriya and Shinsou had a lot of work to do.
Not to mention it was already 18:00 by the time he reached the school’s dormitories. And yet, he needed to shower, make dinner, water his plants, and watch the newest episode of his favorite drama, airing tonight.
University was eating him alive.
Thankfully, he’s able to complete half of his list.
He finishes the exam with a 98%, and quickly snaps the pages of his notes over to Ochako and Iida, making sure to highlight the main topics questioned in the exam. Ochako sends a ‘thank you’ gif, and Iida texts a long, yet endearing message of gratitude.
Midoriya doesn’t have time to shower, instead blasting the TV volume loud, as he waters his indoor plants at the same time. He overwaters them a little bit, busy glancing back at the screen for too long. But, at least he’s able to watch the episode. He pouts when it ends on a cliffhanger, almost drowning his bonsai tree in frustration.
He’s only able to warm up a plate of leftovers, and read through only one research article, by the time it’s already blinking 21:30 on his phone. Sighing, Midoriya closes his laptop and grabs his cell phone instead.
An all nighter wasn’t preferable. But, if Shinsou is working overtime at his late night job, Midoriya supposes he can stay up and keep looking through more articles, until he has at least the required ten.
Flipping open his planner, Midoriya inputs Shinsou’s number into his phone. He adds his name, a contact photo of him sleeping, and finally taps a quick message.
(21:38) < You working?
When Shinsou doesn’t respond right away, Midoriya simply sets aside his phone on his desk. Stretching his arms, he sighs in defeat, now expecting Shinsou to be stuck at work.
He’s never worked at a restaurant, but he bets Friday nights can get pretty busy. And, Shinsou always complains that group outings and dates tend to stay over, even after the place is supposed to close. And, Midoriya trusts his word.
So, by the time his phone dings, Midoriya has been clicking through more articles on social media, bookmarking a few to go over later, as he went.
He lifts his phone, and with a bright screen, a message stares back at him.
shinsou hitoshi (21:58) > Who’s this
Oh, he did forget to specify. But, Midoriya smiles, having a small prank in mind. There was no harm in teasing his friends, let alone Shinsou, who definitely needed a good laugh, now and then.
(21:58) < It's the cutie from your communications class ;)
shinsou hitoshi (21:58) > So, no one
(21:59) < Haha! I guess you’re right about that
(21:59) < Anyways, it’s Izuku! You still working late, Hitoshi?
shinsou hitoshi (21:59) > This ain’t Hitoshi
Midoriya's face drops, blinking. Oh god, did he mistype the number?
(21:38) < Wait, you’re not???
Another text pops up, shortly after.
shinsou hitoshi (22:02) > You got the wrong number
Embarrassment burning his entire face red, Midoriya wishes he could delete himself from the world.
(22:03) < I’m so so so so sorry!
(22:03) < God, I thought I wrote down my friend’s number right
(22:03) < But, I was in this stupid rush to get on the bus that I didn’t make sure
(22:04) < And, listen, if I had missed that bus, I would’ve had to wait
(22:04) < Not like a few minutes wait
(22:04) < Like, a whole two hours wait!
shinsou hitoshi (22:05) > I didn’t ask
Deleting the conversation, Midoriya erases the new contact completely. And instead, he looks back to his planner, and retypes the numbers in his phone onto a new conversation.
Hopefully, he has typed the correct series of digits.
(22:07) < Hey, Hitoshi! It’s Izuku
unknown (22:08) > ...
unknown (22:08) > What the actual fuck
unknown (22:08) > You've still got the wrong number, you goddamn idiot
Slamming his phone onto his desk, Midoriya grabs a pillow off his bed and shoves it in his face. The temptation to scream sounds awfully pleasant, but it’s too late at night to do so. His dorm neighbors would definitely wonder what the hell is wrong with him.
What’s wrong? Oh, he has completely done one of the most dreaded imaginary scenarios in his head; text a complete stranger. Twice.
What was he supposed to do now? Never text back? Delete it? Block it?
How is he supposed to contact Shinsou now?
His phone dings again.
Lifting the pillow off his face slightly, Midoriya eyes his phone warily from his swivel chair.
That definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. Another text from the same stranger sounds a bit unheard of.
After a seconds-long hesitation, Midoriya lifts his phone and opens it once more.
unknown (22:13) > Double check next time
unknown (22:13) > You can fucking wait the two hours, dumbass
Midoriya grows a little irked. He has a bad feeling that his stranger isn’t too friendly, to say that least.
There was literally no reason to text back something so rude.
(22:14) < Well, that wasn’t nice
unknown (22:15) > Wasn’t trying to be
(22:15) < ..Are you always like this?
unknown (22:16) > Pretty much
(22:16) < That’s sad
unknown (22:17) > What’s fucking sad is that I was woken up from my sleep
unknown (22:17) > Because a damn moron didn’t write down the right number
Midoriya winces. He hadn’t even thought about the other person’s predicament, let alone if he had interrupted anything.
(22:20) > I really didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry :(
unknown (22:22) > Yeah whatever
(22:24) > You should try to go back to sleep, then
unknown (22:25) > I was
unknown (22:25) > But the same moron from before keeps texting me
(22:27) > Who?
(22:33) > Oh.
(22:33) > It’s me, huh?
unknown (22:34) > No shit
(22:35) > Right, of course. My bad!
(22:35) > I’m going to just stop now
unknown (22:36) > Thanks
(22:36) > For the umpteenth time, sorry! ><
(22:37) > Okay, Okay! I’m stopping now, for real
Midoriya desperately needs to call it a night.
After going through his nightly routine, he slips under his bedsheets, exhausted. He sets an alarm for 5:00 on his phone, hoping Shinsou will show up at the library, regardless of the missing confirmation text on Midoriya’s end.
He keeps his phone on awhile longer, swiping through his professors’ emails, before a surprising text notification pops in front of him.
unknown (23:01) > FUCK YOU FUCK YOU
(23:02) > …
(23:02) > What was that for??
unknown (23:04) > I CAN’T SLEEP
unknown (23:04) > GOD, I CAN’T GO BACK TO FUCKING SLEEP
unknown (23:05) > AND IT’S YOUR FAULT
(23:06) > What do you expect me to do????
unknown (23:07) > HAHAHAHA OH DON’T WORRY
unknown (23:07) > IF I CAN’T SLEEP, NEITHER CAN YOU
unknown (23:08) > AND IF YOU TURN YOUR PHONE OFF I WILL SEND HELLFIRE
(23:09) > Wait
(23:09) > No, please
(23:09) > My alarm is on my phone, I need it on
(23:10) > I need to go to an important meeting for a group project at 7:00!
unknown (23:10) > Aw, really? :0?!
(23:11) > Yeah! I really do!
unknown (23:11) > Sike. I don’t fucking care
unknown (23:12) > Hope you eat shit tomorrow
(23:13) > ..Why are you like this?
(23:13) > I could literally be a twelve year old, for all you know
unknown (23:14) > I doubt fucking twelve years do group projects
unknown (23:15) > But whether you’re a damn infant, or grown adult, I hate you
(23:16) > I wouldn’t say I hate you. That’s too harsh
(23:16) > But, wow, you are very unlikable :/
unknown (23:17) > That’s the fucking nicest thing anyone has said about me
(23:18) > It wasn’t supposed
(23:19) > Nevermind.
(23:19) > Do you have any friends? Just might as well ask
unknown (23:21) > Surprisingly yeah
(23:22) > Oh, so you also agree. That it’s a surprise
(23:22) > At least you’re self aware :0
unknown (23:23) > Yeah, they are annoying as hell
unknown (23:24) > But, also pretty good people, I guess
(23:25) > Pretty good or pretty dumb?
unknown (23:26) > SHUT IT
unknown (23:27) > Only I can make fun of them
unknown (23:27) > You. Don’t.
(23:28) > You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that
(23:29) > I’m sorry :(
unknown (23:30) > You like apologizing, huh
(23:29) > There’s a lot to apologize for tonight
unknown (23:30) > Still, you don’t have to say it every damn minute
(23:32) > You probably don’t ever apologize
unknown (23:33) > Fuck no
(23:35) > Right, of course
(23:36) > Well, you know what I need to do tomorrow
unknown (23:37) > Unfortunately
(23:38) > What about you?
unknown (23:39) > I’m covering a shift at my shit job at the ass crack of dawn
(23:40) > Unnecessary visual, but I digress
(23:40) > Uh, where do you work?
unknown (23:42) > No. I don’t even know your damn name
(23:43) > I told you?? It was in my first text
unknown (23:44) > Yeah, I ain’t scrolling
(23:48) > Well, it’s Izuku. Midoriya Izuku :)
unknown (23:49) > Great. I still ain’t giving you mine
(23:50) > ?? Is there anything I can know about you??
(23:50) > You know more about me, than I do about you
unknown (23:51) > You know I hate you
unknown (23:51) > That’s plenty
(23:52) > But, I have been staying up for you :(
unknown (23:53) > Because it’s your fault I can’t sleep
(23:54) > You aren’t feeling sleepy yet?
unknown (23:56) > ..Are you
(23:57) > I asked you first
unknown (23:58) > I asked you second
(23:59) > That
(23:59) > Look, it’s almost midnight
(24:00) > Oh, now, it’s actually midnight
unknown (00:01) > I have fucking eyes. I can see the time
(00:02) > And we BOTH have places to be tomorrow
(00:02) > So, let’s just sleep. Call a truce, please
unknown (00:03) > What about my petty retribution
(00:04) > PLEASE LET ME SLEEP
unknown (00:10) > FUCK
unknown (00:10) > FINE
unknown (00:11) > I STILL CAN’T SLEEP BUT WHATEVER
unknown (00:12) > HOPE YOU FUCKING OVERSLEEP TOMORROW
The rest of the night, Midoriya hears his phone go off, but he doesn’t bother to open the messages. Fortunately for him, the time staying awake quickly catches up to his body, the moment he shuts his eyes. And, in an instant, he falls asleep, heavy.
However, he’s jolted awake by the ringing of his phone, the tone alerting him of an incoming phone call. Banging his head on the headboard, Midoriya blindly grabs and answers his phone. “Uh, H-Hello?” He blurts quickly.
“Tch.” A low voice emits, “You owe me, Deku.”
Click. The phone call ends.
Confused, Midoriya hurriedly rubs his eyes open. Running his messy curls through his fingers, he lifts his bangs up, in order to correctly look at the time.
The time was 5:10. And, his 5:00 alarm had been off the entire time.
And, instead, that same unknown number from last night was his saving grace.
#star responds#MY FIRST TEXT FIC??? WOW#i kinda struggled with how i wanted to format the texts#but alas here it is#poor midoriya smh next time repeat the numbers back#never wake bakugou up from his 8PM to 6AM sleeps LMAO#i hope this was okay !!#bakudeku#tigridiae#my beloved#FICLET
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little Black Book | D. M.
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Fem!Reader
Genre: FLUFF!
Request: “could you write a draco x slytherin!reader where they both have a crush on eachother, but they think the other person is into someone else? like draco with pansy or reader with some other character” from the lovely @minty-malfoy <3
Trigger Warnings: Cussing
---------------------------------
Draco Malfoy furrowed his brow at the cauldron in front of him. He added the last ingredient and watched jubilantly as the ivory smoke spiraled upward. You watched as he leaned forward, taking a small whiff of the potion. He gasped quickly, his cheeks beginning turning a ruddish red. You looked over at him and raised a quizzical eyebrow.
He hastily placed the lid onto the Amortentia potion with a loud clang. You sighed, feeling a little twinge in your heart. It no doubt smelled like Pansy Parkinson. “Perfect, pretty, put-together Pansy Parkinson,” you thought to yourself. You knew that the reason Draco was flushed was because the familiar scent of broomsticks, cinnamon gum, and cherry lipgloss had invaded his senses. You secretly desired that he had smelled you instead - lavender shampoo, mint, and a touch of morning coffee.
“Does it smell like Potter?,” you jested. Draco glared at you before cracking a smile.
“Careful, y/l/n.”
You gave him a toothy grin, going back to flipping through your textbook. “What does yours smell like?,” he asked curiously, secretly hoping it smelled like apples, hair product, and vanilla. You leaned over the cauldron, gently taking off the cover. You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes. It felt as though you were bathing in the scent of the boy next to you and you drew back.
“Well?,” Draco asked curiously. You swallowed hard, trying to figure out the best lie to tell in the moment.
“Oh, um, I...it smells like honey...and...grass,” you blurted, turning back around to stare at your book.
Draco felt his heart sink, peaking up at you behind his lashes. You were busy distracting yourself with packing up your bag as he watched you longingly.
“Of course she didn’t smell you, you bloody idiot,” he thought to himself defeatedly, thankful for your professor calling an end to the class.
----------------------------------
That evening, you sat curled up on a green velvet chair in the Sytherin common room. It was always a lucky occasion when the common room was empty. It allowed for time to relax with nothing but the sound of the crackling fire to keep you company. You sipped a cup of peppermint tea and absentmindedly flipped through a copy of Witch Weekly. A yawn washed over you, which allowed you to stretch a bit and settle down more comfortably in your chair. You looked up from the article you were reading about a Beauxbatons’ pastry recipe when you heard the door creak open, disturbing the silence.
Draco and Pansy came stumbling into the common room, chuckling about something Draco must have said in the hallway. Pansy giggled, playfully placing a hand on Draco’s chest. You felt as if you were watching the interaction in slow motion, silently longing to be in Pansy’s place. Her blithesome smile made your eyes fill with jealous tears, although you were too prideful to allow them to spill over.
You quickly gathered up your things, polishing off the rest of your tea. You shuffled past the two, ignoring the way Draco’s head turned on a swivel when you brushed his shoulder. Heading out into the hallway, you rushed as quickly as you could back to your dormitory. “Why am I crying over Draco Malfoy?,” you cursed to yourself, feeling relief once the door slammed behind you. You sniffled a bit before wiping your eyes in annoyance. “He’s just a boy. A stupid boy at that.”
Knowing it would make you feel better, you climbed up onto your bed and pulled out your diary. Your method of getting out your frustration was often through writing letters - of course, letters you’d never dream of sending. You had written angry letters to your professors and even inspirational letters to yourself, all of which you burned immediately in the common room fireplace. You flipped to an empty page and grabbed the quill next to you. The words flowed easily now as you let a few tears drip onto the paper. Your sentences had no real beginning or end, nor did your care about making a whole lot of sense.
‘Dear Draco,
I wish I could tell you what you mean to me....that you’re charming, and handsome, and perfect in every way. I want to tell you that I am captivated by your smile, your eyes, and every last inch of you. My potion smelled like you...Did yours smell like Pansy? I’m sure it did. If I had the chance, I’d kiss you right in front of everyone. I know it’s stupid but I really do fancy you, Malfoy. I just wish you’d fancy me back.’
It was written in the same way your thoughts of Draco often graced across your mind - jumbled and disjointed. You closed the tiny black book and placed it into your backpack, reaching over the shut off your bedside light. You snuggled deeper under your soft, wool blankets, secretly thinking of the Slytherin prince as you drifted off to sleep.
----------------------------------
Draco Malfoy sat at his dormitory desk, sipping slowly on a cup of tea. The sweet drink warmed his insides. He was grateful for this as he was often coldest at night. He pulled the blanket over his shoulders and continued to write, sighing as he felt all of his pent up emotions ease. He wouldn’t admit it aloud to any of his friends, but he kept a diary. It had always served as a way for him to process the difficult parts of his day, protecting him from having to share too much with other people.
Tonight, he wrote unabashedly about how he felt for you. He wrote about your hair, your eyes, and the way his Amortentia carried your scent. He gushed about dreaming of kissing you for hours and hours, leaving very little to the imagination. After seeing you rush out of the common room, he felt an unwavering sense of dread, thinking perhaps you couldn’t even stand to be around him. Thus, he put down in black and white all of the sickeningly sweet ways he thought of you. It occurred to him that maybe if he spilled his heart out on to the parchment, he could stop being so damned enamored with you.
His eyelids started to become heavy, so he slid the small, raven-colored book into his knapsack. Turning off his lamp, he slid beneath his covers, allowing himself to drift into slumber.
-----------------------------------
Final exams were fast approaching and the entirety of Hogwarts was in a tizzy. Between Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies, there was far too much information to digest and far too little time to do it. You and several others from your house shared a long table in the library, your papers and manuals spread out in front of you. Reading furiously, you had lost track of the time, along with Draco, Pansy, and Blaise.
“Oh bloody hell, we’re going to be late for DADA,” Pansy cussed. She stood up to quickly shove her books into her bag. The remaining three of you jumped up, jostling your belongings into your bags as quickly as possible - which is why neither you nor Draco noticed when two tiny black books got swapped.
You all jogged off down the hallway, your robes flowing behind you as you desperately hoped to not be late to class. Unfortunately, you didn’t make it in time, rushing in through the door just as Snape had begun to speak.
“Nice of you to join us, albeit late. 10 points from Slytherin, each.”
You sulked as you slid into your seat, pulling your parchment and quill out to begin taking notes.
----------------------------------------
Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting on your bed. You had finally finished reviewing for your classes and figured a much needed break was in order. You got up and padded over to your tea kettle, flicking the water on. Just then, you heard a tiny knock at your door.
Unsure who would be coming to visit you, you walked over and stood on the other side. “Who is it?,” you beckoned, not wanting to open the door for just anyone.
“Malfoy,” the voice on the other end replied. Your stomach did an immediate flip. You opened the door, coming face-to-face with a red faced and anxious looking blonde on the other side. He held up something in his hand and you felt like the floor had just given out under your feet.
“Is this yours?,” He asked sheepishly, extending a hand to give it back. You snatched it quickly. The sound of your heart pounding echoed in your ears. A feeling of dread washed over you and you couldn’t stop your hands from beginning to shake.
“Did you r-read it?,” you choked out. You sent a prayer up to Merlin that the answer would be no.
“Yes.”
You let out a tiny gasp and your lips began to tremble.
“Hey, hey,” Draco whispered, allowing himself to walk in the door. He closed it behind him, reaching out to take your hands. “Don’t be upset. Believe me, it’s alright, y\n,”
You pulled away, turning around in embarrassment. “I’m n-not upset! I’m fucking humiliated,” you sniveled. Draco knew about how much you liked - no, at this point he probably assumed loved - him. He had read the inner workings of your heart. Every thing you had penned about the boy was now knowledge he possessed. You wished you could just dissolve into the floor and disappear forever.
Draco sighed, walking over to your backpack. He reached in and pulled out a different journal. You had no idea that his book had been in your bag the entire time, given that you thought it was yours. He sauntered back over to you, pulling you by the hand to sit down on the bed.
You looked at him confused as he opened the journal. He handed it over to you, allowing you to peruse it. You began to read, your jaw falling slack. “Y-you...is this about Pansy?,” you asked sadly, unable to accept that Draco’s feelings might be mutual. Draco’s cyanic eyes twinkled. He took the diary from your hands, placing it out of the way.
He moved a piece of hair from your eyes, tracing his finger along your jaw. Then, he took a finger and traced it down the bridge of your nose and over your lips. He began to speak, repeating a line from one of his diary entries, “Everything about you is flawless.”
He leaned in slowly, planting a kiss to your lips. In that moment, it wouldn’t have shocked you if fireworks began to burst across the ceiling of your room. You scooted closer, gently placing a hand on the back of Draco’s neck. Your fingers played in the tufts of his platinum blonde hair. You pulled him back in for another kiss. Suddenly, you were very, very grateful for finals week - and those 40 missing points from Slytherin mattered not.
#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy#draco x you#draco x reader#malfoy#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy fanfiction#dracotok#draco fanfiction#draco x slytherin!reader#draco x female reader
492 notes
·
View notes
Text
new things: day dream (m)
pairing: college teacher!doyoung + reader
genre: smut, a hint of fluff (includes: dirty talking, name calling, bimbofication kinda, teasing)
word count: 3,5k
summary: Because the thing is, you had a plan. A very stupid one you’ll admit to that, but still it was a plan. A plan that involved seducing the teacher, to finally get him to pay attention to you.
a/n: special thanks to the anons that sent me ideas for this one a while back. hope you guys enjoy this!
✧
Kim Doyoung was a very respectable man.
He had a passion about teaching that translated perfectly into the way he spoke to and addressed his students, making even the ones that were just taking his class to fill their curriculum interested in the matters of classical music theory. And to make it even better, he was as handsome as he was smart, getting every girl in the class to want a piece of him that they would never have.
It was endearing, really, to see all these girls and even some boys, that were here to get something as noble as a masters degree, going cross eyed because the teacher just happened to look too good for his own good. The giggles, long stares and sometimes blatant flirting were all funny to watch, even more because of Doyoung’s clear lack of interest.
And you… Well, you are very stupid and maybe have lost your damn mind. Because the thing is, you had a plan, a very stupid one you’ll admit to that, but still it was a plan. A plan that involved seducing the teacher, to finally get him to pay attention to you.
A plan that probably needed a little more planning involved, but it’s too late now for that.
Doyoung walks into the classroom, all white button up and neatly pressed slacks, his round glasses hiding the faint dark circles underneath his eyes from probably one too many nights gone without sleep, for the sake of grading papers. He’s wearing a caramel cardigan today and you think it’s an absolute crime that he can make something like that look so hot on him.
You sit on the first row, of course you do, and when his eyes lock onto you he looks stunned for a moment, eyes raking up and down your body because the outfit you had put together was anything but subtle. The short skirt that showed your legs too well, the closed cardigan the was a little too low on your cleavage, everything about it was planned perfectly in order for him to swallow drily as he placed his thing on the desk.
He clears his throat, gathering himself before he greets the class, telling everyone to open the article he had sent via email. It’s a boring lecture, mostly because of the fact you can’t focus on anything but the glances he gives your way and the words he speaks seem to slur together in sentences that don’t quite make sense.
But you don’t get distracted, no. You have a plan and there’s no turning back now, you had left shame outside the moment you stepped into this classroom with the thought of fucking the teacher clear as day in your mind. When he looks your way again, you put it into action.
It’s kind of like a game, you see. The first step is to get him to pay attention, which he does but without losing his composure, he’s better than that of course. But you have tricks up your sleeves, so you lean on the desk a little, bite on your lips enough that he raises one eyebrow in curiosity. And there you go, the second step is achieved as he becomes interested.
From there it’s easy, he lets himself look enough but not as much as you want, as if to not raise suspicion. It makes you feel giddy, finally basking in the attention most girls in this class could only dream of getting.
The class goes on with your shared glances, expectation making your blood boil in a way you haven’t felt in some time and it only makes you feel bolder. So when the lecture is finally over, you wait until every student has walked out of the classroom, as you watch him gather his things with his back turned to you.
He’s expecting you to make your way towards him, of course he is. And you can hear a chuckle leave his lips when he hears the sounds of your footsteps. For some reason, that only serves to incite you.
“Good evening, professor.” You say, voice too sweet as he turns to you.
He raises one eyebrow, in a challenge almost. “_______.” It’s simply said but you almost can’t help the smile that wants to form on your lips as your name falls from his lips. “How can I help you?”
He rests both his hands behind him on the desk, body leaning towards yours in nothing but an inviting way. You lick your lips, watching his eyes follow your movements. “You see… I have been having a little trouble with some of the readings from your class.”
It’s a stupid lie, cliche maybe with the way you say it feigning innocence, but he seems to find it all very amusing. “I see. May I know which ones in particular?” He asks with a glimpse of smile on his lips. “So I can know how to advise you, of course.”
You squint your eyes at him briefly, clearing your throat before you say the first thing that comes go mind. “That… That book with the blue cover, you know? The name escaped me, I’m sorry.”
This time he doesn’t even try to hold in the small laugh that escapes his lips. “Classical Form? It’s understandable that you would have some trouble with it.” He’s still smiling at you when he moves from the table, gathering his things. “Would you like to accompany me to my office, then? So I can assist you properly.”
You can’t agree faster, a smile turning the sides of your lips slightly upwards.
You follow him outside the class until you reach his office, a small room with a big shelf filled with books and music sheets, a fancy desk and a sofa that looks designer made and not something you would buy from ikea. He gestures for you to sit down, so you do, but still watching him closely as he locks the office’s door before walking to lean against his desk.
You cross your legs when he eyes you, making your skit rid up a bit. There’s a glint on his eyes before he’s breaking the silence. “Classical Form, then?” His voice is flat and your eyes stick glued to his lips. “I’ve left the copy I own at home, but I’m assuming you have brought yours?”
You haven’t, of course, but still you pretend to look around for it on the bag you had dropped on the couch, sighing loudly to indicate you obviously couldn’t find it. “I must have forgotten mine at home as well.”
He bites his lips then, holding in a clear smile. It’s endearing to watch him, as much as he must think it is to watch your silly attempts. “Miss ______, forgive me for saying this. But I think it’s not your readings that you need help with.”
‘Duh’ is what you want to say, but instead you smile bashfully at him. “Am I that obvious?”
“A little bit.” He says with a scoff, crossing his arms. “Tell me then what is it that you really want.”
Maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you but he says it almost in a challenge, eyes not moving from yours as you stare right back at him. “What I really want? I don’t think you’re ready to know that, professor.” You say with a small laugh.
A loud laugh escapes his lips this time.
“You’re crazy.” He says amused and with a shake of his head. “I think I can handle it, _____.”
He falls for your bait too well and it’s thrilling, makes you feel more confident that he’s not only giving you his full attention but urging you on. So you play your cards. “The thing is,” Is what you start with, a grin of your own on your lips. “I’ve been very needy because of you.”
That makes him raise both eyebrows now. “Because of me? That’s a very harsh accusation.”
You scoff playfully, uncrossing your legs so you can balance your elbows on them and rest your chin on your hands. “Is it?” That’s a rhetorical question because next you add. “Did you know every girl in your class wants to sleep with you? Some of the men too.”
“I didn’t.”
“Liar.” You mumble, rolling your eyes, and that makes him smile at you, a playful one that looks way too cute for the situation.
A moment of silence passes before he’s asking. “Are you one of those girls then?”
Obviously, you think to yourself. Wouldn’t be here practically offering yourself for him if you weren’t. “Maybe I am.”
You decide then to get up from the couch, making your way to him with purpose and as if on cue, he’s opening his legs that were crossed before, but you don’t go that far. “And what would you like me to do about that?” He says it in a way that shows you he’s teasing, trying to embarrass you and that sends a thrill through your entire body.
“Are you trying to get me to say I want you to fuck me?” You take a step forward, standing in between his parted legs and if he wanted he could easily touch you. “Is that it, professor?”
“That would be inappropriate, relationships with students are not allowed.” His lips twitch as he says it, eyes roaming your face.
You fake a pout. “Am I not worth an exception?”
“Are you?” Another challenge, he seems to like them.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I am.” And then you are stepping closer to him, close enough that he can move a hand to the back of your neck and smash your lips together.
So much for self control, you think. But even if Doyoung was apparently good at keeping his cool façade, you knew that deep down he was easy to break, easy to succumb to desperation. And he kisses you with exactly that, lips nipping at yours as he positions your head to his pleasing and you fall as putty as you’ll allow yourself.
You still chase his lips when he breaks the kiss, grabbing at the front of his shirt and bring him closer so you can take the direction of the kiss into your own hands this time. It’s just shy from messy, how you lick at his lips to get him to part them, how you slide your tongue against his in motions that make you lose your mind just a little bit.
He scoffs a little when this time he manages to break the kiss. “You’re really bold.” He says as a matter of fact, a little breathless and the hand still on your neck squeezes it just a little. “Do you like acting like a little slut, is that it?”
You fight back the urge to smile, instead biting your lips in a whole theatrical scene as his eyes stay fixed on your face. One of your hands move to his neck, then slither down to his chest where you pop open the first button of his shirt. “Maybe it’s because I want you too much, sir.”
A noise comes from the back of his throat. Then he’s stroking your cheek. “Will you let me do whatever I want then?”
You laugh now, separating from him just a little and now unbuttoning the first button of your already low cardigan, as if to match his. “Now who’s being bold?”
“You, again.”
“Ha! I only do it because you seem to like it.”
One of his hands come to your back, pulling you closer again. “So you will let me do whatever I want.”
Now you really say it, eyes on him with playful determination. “Duh.”
His throat bobs, jaw tense. And then he’s turning you around to face the desk, your hands coming in contact with the hard material of it.
It takes no time for him to press behind you, his interest on your little back and forth clear when you feel the forming bulge on his slacks. His hand roam your thighs, reaching the rem of your skirt and bringing it up. “Are you always a brat or is it just because you want my cock, hmm?” He whispers, pressing his cheek to the side of your head. You shiver in anticipation, lips parting at his foul language and hips moving backwards trying to press your ass even closer to his front.
“Why don’t you give it to me and see it for yourself?” It’s your bite back, earning a low chuckle from him that is a high contrast to the way his fingers squeeze your thigh in what you think is desperation.
With a grunt, he dips his hand inside your skirt, tip toeing around your skin in a way that makes it tingle, but it doesn’t stay at that. With a blink of your eyes he’s pressing his palm to your clothed core, the cotton fabric sticking to it in a way that makes you embarrassed from how wet you already were. But was it really your fault?
It makes him laugh lowly. “I don’t think I will.” And then he pushes his palm upwards, the friction on your clit making you whimper pathetically.
Of all the things you expected to happen, him dropping to his knees behind you were not first on the list for sure. You expected him to lose control a little, push your skirt up and fuck you while you still had your panties on, them pushed to the side as he pounded into you in a way that made your eyes roll. Deep and rough like you liked it.
What happens is a lost of control in different ways. In a way that involves him pulling your legs to his liking, making space for him between them. Your skirt gets bunched up on your back, your ass on display for him to squeeze and with his face so close that you feel the little puffs of air on your still covered core.
His hand squeezes your soft skin harder when you try to squirm and get him to finally do it. “Tsk, are you going to be good?” He asks, with a small slap to your ass to enhance his word. “Or are you going to continue acting like a desperate slut?”
A small part of you wants to be the desperate slut, get on his nerves and make him annoyed enough that he just fucks into you. You’re sure that he would be able to slide in without any difficulty with how wet you are. But you also want desperately to come, taking a guess that this wouldn’t be happening if you were to pick his second alternative. “I’ll be good.” You mutter finally, breathy voice as he rewards you by pushing your panties down.
It’s a second of just him close enough but not touching. Then he spreads your legs even more, getting you exposed enough so he can press his lips to where you wanted him the most. You cry out with no hesitation, hands gripping at the desk as his tongue laps on your entrance, spreading your wetness around in a way that is as collected as it is messy.
He eats you out with teasing as his goal, flicking his tongue in agonizing ways and sucking your clit with patience. It makes you absolutely crazy, twisting around on his hold and trying to get more friction, to make him move faster.
A loud curse leaves your lips when he dips his tongue inside your entrance, just the tip, and he reprimands you with another slap when you try to throw your ass back in attempts to get it deeper. “Ughnn, you are so mean.”
“I though you said something about being good.” He whines back at your, words muffled and sending vibrations through your core that make you clench a little around nothing.
“Pleasee.” You drag out the words when he laps slowly at your pussy, followed by kittenish licks. “I will if you give me what I want.”
Maybe it’s because he loses his patience finally, or maybe because you were very persuasive with how you look behind your back to catch his eyes just as he gets up from his kneeling position. He smiles at you, just shy from wicked. “Liar.”
The unspoken words are that he likes it that way. Likes that you talk back and squirm under his hold, likes that you act like a brat until he gives in. But he also likes that you’ll take it however he wants, that the only thing that will make you stop acting up is his cock deep inside of you.
And he gives you just that. The sounds of his belt clicking and pants being pushed down just enough to get his leaking erection out, making your head spin. Even more when he finally enters you, a yelp on the tip of your tongue as he bottoms out just like you thought, with no resistance at all.
“Fuck. This is what you wanted, hmm?” His voice is strained despite his attempt to seem calm as he moves his hips once slowly, erection gliding out of you coated with your arousal. Then he slams back inside, your nails trying to grip on the desk but you fail, your body plopping on the desk.
“Y-Yes.” It’s more a moan than anything else, your mind barely able to form coherent thoughts because it’s been so long, and you feel so full with him fucking you deep and fast like you wanted.
One of his arms encircles your middle and pulls you up so that your back is pressed to his chest, giving attention to your nipples as he grunts so close to your ear that the sound makes you clench around him, turning it into a pained moan.
“You’re just a dumb little slut aren’t you?” He asks with a pinch to your nipple. You nod dumbly, so close already that you have to squeeze your eyes shut. “Yeah, you are, my pretty dumb slut that will do anything to get fucked.”
This time your walls pulsate around him, a long whine coming from your lips as he fucks into you faster, hand gripping at your waist for leverage. “Ugnhn, fuck. It’s so - so good.” You manage to get out and the words are followed by your lips parting in a silent scream as he hits repeatedly the sweet spot inside of you.
It doesn’t take you long after that, your body shaking in his hold as you come with a loud moan, your hands moving back to grip at his clothed thighs as blinding pleasure washes over your body. You trash around when he continues fucking you, too sensitivity but it feels too good, your release making the slide even smoother.
He mutter incoherent sentences, moans of your name as his hips snap into yours quick and deep, until they falter and he’s coming inside of you, spurts of cum coating your walls as he lets a long ‘ah’ that sounds too melodic for just a man reaching his high.
You both pant heavily as you catch your breaths. Wrecked a word too simple to describe how you feel as he pulls out, tucking himself quickly inside of his pants, and you fall forward with both your hands supporting you on the desk.
He helps you put your panties back on, fixes you skirt with a pat to your ass that is as sweet as the kiss he presses on your bare shoulder before he’s turning you around and into his arms. Your cardigan has moved enough that your chest is exposed but he fixes that too. You can’t help the small smile on your lips when he kisses it.
“This was highly unprofessional.” He says after a while and you scoff, hand caressing his cheek affectionally.
“Please, we had to fuck in your office at least once in our lives.”
He gives you his gummy smile, as if amused that you both really just did that. A thing that had only been joked about before over the years you had been together. “But not while pretending you are student of all things.”
Now you laugh affectionately, slapping him playfully on the chest. “Says the man that played his part way too well. You liked it, you pervert.”
“I like anything that involves you, silly girl.” His answer makes your heart somersault in your chest. You watch as his eyes soften, the dark circles even more visible with his this close, so you caress it softly with your thumb. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been giving you enough attention, love.”
“It’s okay, baby.” You reinforce your words with a kiss to his lips, sweet and enough to make him sigh. “Now can we please go home so you can give me some more of it?”
The smile he gives you is your favorite from the entire night. Then he brings his hand to where yours is on his face, lacing your fingers together and bringing it to his lips so he can press a small kiss to the back of your hand. “Anything for my wife.”
542 notes
·
View notes
Text
「 waste of a lovely night. — bakugou katsuki 」
‣ genre — fluff, hogwarts au
‣ w.c — 1,5k
‣ warning — explicit language
‣ synopsis — katsuki hates you for the long time feud between your families. he hates you more now that you didn’t dance with him at the yule ball.
‣ note — this piece has been modified from one of my writings on my main blog; if you find it familiar, this is probably why.
only the celestial bodies above can know how melancholy katsuki is. but he’s met with a sky without stars tonight.
with his head on his elbows, lips pressed into a straight, his gaze falls from the endless canvas of darkness to the hustle and bustle of students leaving the great hall to head back to their designated dormitories. an irritated sigh. he definitely doesn’t need to know what they’re going to do for the after-party. denki used to show him an article on this peculiar machine called ‘a laptop’ that the more you sigh, the faster you age. if you keep doing shit like this to him, he’s gonna be all old and wrinkly by the time you come here.
if you’re going to show up at all that is.
the moment he peels his eyes away from the overcrowded main gate, a figure is shuffling themselves through their drunk quidditch teammates, sloppy couples, and burnt out professors. they dash through the empty hallways to reach the spiral staircase, skipping three steps at a time, risking the chances of falling on their face just to get to him.
pulling yourself to a halt at the last step, you see katsuki all curled up against the balcony railings and feel a pang of guilt wash over his innards like a wave. he’s pulling your legs toward his chest, defeated eyes gazing into the space ahead while his hair falls to his face messily. like he’s gone through the depths of the fourth dimension, struggling through dark matters and a rite of divinity at the end of the line. all for you.
he’s beautiful.
and the amount of affection that’s piling upon your rib cage? astronomical.
his gaze is averted away; even with a slight scowl, sloppy clothes and messed up hair, katsuki still flares radiance. you think that if a meteor shower is happening right now, he can still outshine it. “you fucking came,” he mentions coldly.
shit. he’s a lot less scary when he’s shouting and cursing at me.
for once, you find yourself at a loss for words. “y-yeah,” you manage to swallow. yeah? what the fuck, y/n? is that all you’ve got to say?
“i-i’m sorry, katsuki. shoto accidentally mistook one of momo’s potions for his allergy medicine so i had to take care of that before coming,” you scratch your forearm awkwardly, head hung low with guilt. “i didn’t know it would take that long…”
katsuki pushes himself up, eyes rolling to the moon. “you were too busy taking care of icy hot that you forgot about your dance partner? the champions of the tournament were supposed to be there for the first dance, you dumbass.”
wow, jealousy stinks, he chuckles internally. how old is he? three?
“oh don’t even pretend that you wanted to be there for the first dance,” you huff in disbelief.
he tilts his head, smirking. “and you couldn’t find yourself a proper partner.”
“i did, and i’m afraid he owes me something.” a slow smile begins to outstretch upon your facial muscles. “a dance, i believe,” you make a thinking face while striding toward him.
coldly, katsuki yanks his tie loose. “i fucking beg to differ.” he’s not having it, you can tell. but will you ever give up?
“a bet is a bet, katsuki.”
your hand fishes inside the pocket of your trench coat to take out your wand. your hand delicately gives it a swift flick; once, and twice followed by a low mumble from your lips. immediately, light pulses from the tip of the wand before shooting upward, disintegrating into a million bits as though a starry night is embracing the both of you. you repeat the same action again to cast a different spell. music laces through every fiber of air without effort, like honey being poured into your ears.
“it’s just one bet,” you pout with a hand fully extended toward him.
you should have realized how good katsuki looks tonight. a black dress shirt that’s buttoned below appropriate, matching trench coat, silver accessories lining his fingers and ears with naturally tousled hair. he looks so gorgeous that it almost suffocates you, that it almost makes you want to hiss ‘fucking unfair’ out loud.
enchanted by his poise and grace, your body reacts without the consent of your mind. you seize up when you unknowingly place your hand on top of his, the touch sending electricity down his spine. a simple response has become all too complicated for his brain to process.
you grow breathless the moment he grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against him. “let’s get this shit over with, i’m tired,” katsuki remarks sarcastically to ease his nerves.
“look, it’s not my fault that the goblet of fire chose me to participate in the tournament,” you chuckle lowly, eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes while he sways you to the soft melody. dots of light continue to float around weightlessly, reflecting the golden flecks in his eyes. he’s ethereal in the worst way—the way that isn’t healthy for your heart.
katsuki soon slaps on another scowl when he realizes you just reminded him of why he’s even here in the first place. if only he weren’t so salty about slytherin winning his team over at the final quidditch match before the holiday occurs. let’s just say he wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind after getting his ass kicked in his favorite sport.
and you wasted no time to slip in between the line of comical humor and his ultimate torment. which results in—if katsuki gets to attend the triwizard tournament , you will leave him alone for the rest of his life; but if you are the chosen one, you get a dance with him at the yule ball.
it’s really not all that bad if you think twice about it. dancing with bakugou katsuki, the gryffindor’s quidditch team captain, the student with perfect academics and (almost perfect) conduct for six years straight.
music threads through the atmosphere and lifts away gravity. you can’t count how many times you have stepped on his toes due to nervousness because you’re too much of a coward to look him in the eye. but he’s the only thing you can seem to focus on right now.
“also, don’t you think this is a good opportunity to get rid of the tension between us?” you ask honestly, and this causes him to perk up.
“what the fuck are you going on about?”
lights are twinkling with every step as katsuki spins you around gently, your dress billowing out prettily as your heels click against the cold concrete. after that, he swiftly pulls you back into his arms and you exhale in relief like you were meant to be there all this time.
“don’t play dumb, you’re terrible at it. i know the only reason why you’ve been avoiding me since first year was because of our families’ stupid grudge. ”
his eyes are cast downward for a moment, his tone grows serious. “either way, my old geezers wouldn’t like to see me talking to you. and look at what we’re doing. we’re both fucked if they found out.”
“well, they can’t just magically appear now, can they?” you lean a little closer to lock your eyes with his.
and katsuki breaks it seconds later. “we’re attending a magic school for fuck’s sake. anything is possible.”
“did they even tell you what the actual problem was in the first place?” you huff out in faint annoyance.
he snorts audibly. “let me humor you. i don’t think they’d even remember.”
“then would you stop giving me that look as if i just shooed your owl way every time i said ‘hi’ on my way to class? have you ever thought about my feelings? about us being civil for once? like friends? or even more so?”
“fucking hell-“
his heart becomes all erratic at your words. it’s nothing like those fully-fledged, tear-jerking nor cheesyass confessions that he’s gawked at one too many times, but it makes his heart flutter and stirs up those cliché butterflies inside his stomach. this can’t be compared to the yule ball—it’s even better than that. because it feels as though you and him are the only presences that graze the surface of this land. there’s no one to judge, no fingers to point, no gossip spreading like wildfire.
it’s perfect. almost.
“whatever you’re planning for us, it’s not gonna fucking happen. it’s not supposed to happen. it’s not possible, y/n.”
wordlessly, you stop, move both of his hands to your torso, and wrap your arms around his neck. the sound of your heartbeat against his is so in sync they just drown out the music completely. time is frozen in place, leaving him to hang on the edge with you, hanging onto this single moment as thin as the red string of fate. he’s waiting for you to do something, say something.
just then, you crack a wry smile and pull him closer by the nape of his neck, resting your forehead comfortably on his.
“we’re attending a magic school. anything is possible.”
#bnha#mha#my hero academia#bnha imagines#bnha x reader#bakugou katsuki imagine#bakugou katsuki#katsuki headcanons#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x reader#mha bakugou
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
A day off
Authors note: filled with randomness and comfort here and there, just wrote this to escape from studying
Word count: ca.2400
The third bang on your door, made you give up on getting your sleep.With sloopy steps you made it to your door, only to find Frenchie,Hughie and Butcher happily standing in front of you, once you your eyes could focus propberly.
,,There she is.Morning sunshine.'' said Butcher stepping past you into your dorm.
,,Is that a Star Wars poster?'' asked Hughie following Butcher.
You were far too tired to reacte, too overwhelmed with this situation.The long sleeves of your hodie hid your yawn.
,,Naww petite Y/N.All sleepy and cute.'' said Frenchie bringing you in his embrace petting your messy bun.
,,Guys!Its fucking Sunday what are you doing here?'' you asked with raspy voice, still hiding your face from the sunlight that came in, due to Butcher shoving the curtains away.
,,Right.Perfect timing for some quality time for the group.What could be better for that than a Comic Book Con?'' asked Butcher joining Hughie with getting through your stuff.
,,Fuck off boys.I need sleep.I finished my essays just four hours ago.'' you whined not at all convinced of that idea and resting in Frenchies arms.
,,Shut up Y/N I thought you were into this stuff.'' said Hughie while looking through your merchandise.
,,Can't I just go back to sleep and bring you some waffles later?That would have way more quality.'' you said but already gave in and pulled away from Frenchie.
,,Nope.Actually we have a little mission to do there.'' said Hughie turning with your lightsaber in his hands to you, looking amazed at it , when it turned out to be a green one.
,,Besides Frenchie makes the better ones.You were the one who wanted to join us, go get dressed.'' said Butcher taking the lightsaber from Hughie.
,,Fine.Just give me second.'' you said gathering up some clothes, your lightsaber from Butcher and your washbag and left your room.Only to come back after a moment to throw your weapon onto your bed, when you realised that you still had it in your hands.
,,Hey did you guys ever heard of privacy?'' you asked when you had entered your dorm again and saw Butcher at your laptop and Hughie still going through your merchandise stuff on your shelves.Frenchie layed in your bed, almost half asleep.
You walked strictly to Butcher and looked at your laptop's screen, seeing the text of your essay, but you could swear you saw the screen just had changed.Giving Butcher a daring gaze while you brought your washbag back into your vanity, trying to analyse his hidden grin.
,,What is that?I don't even know that.'' said Hughie looking at your gallyfreyan writing.
,,What ever this might be proves that Y/N is more of a fucking nerd than you are.'' said Butcher.
,,Its Gallyfreyan for fuck off.'' you said when you took the papers from Hughie to put them back into their box.
,,Can we go now?'' Butcher asked standing up from your desk and clapping on Frenchie's shoulder when he walked past him.
,,Just a second.'' you said, when you reminded yourself to do something you insisted on, now that you had Butcher here at your dorm.
You showed him a news article from the university, about your litertature club, writing about their performed works from last weekend praising especially your work.
,,Behind her creativity always lies an interesting critic to several current topics, that is clearly structured and could even knock out Homelander.'' you read out loud, while doing an awful job of hiding your pride.,,See I was right when I said I could at least put you over my knees rhetorically.Appearingly I can do that even with Homelander.'' you added.
Butcher continued to read the article.,,Homelander is a stupid cunt, who somehow managed to get taking serious while wearing latex.'' said he when he had enough of the reading.
,,I don't care about Homelander, I care about you Butcher.'' you said when you took the article and laid it back on your desk.
,,Now you're becoming soft on me again Y/N.'' said Butcher while walking outside of your dorm with the rest.
,,I mean it.Did someone wrote something like this ever about you?'' you said, insisting that this got accpreciated by him, since his critic on your arguments left you frustrated last time.
,,Listen love.I don't need an article that tells me I'm good in putting everyone over my knee.Even though I start to think you wouldn't mind if I did that to you – rhetorically of course.'' he added with a grin leaving you a bit irritated behind him,when he walked further down the hallway.
You were thankful for yourself bringing sunglasses for today to hide your tired eyes, since Hughie listened loudly the radio during the whole trip to the Convention, taking the last chance of sleep from you.
The plan was to talk with a supe about some former actions form Vought he should know of.Frenchie and Hughie were send to do this, while you and Butcher waited for them on the convention, that reminded you of a graveyard that came halfheartedly back to life.
,,Seriously ,did I really need to come with you guys for this?Its not that we do something helpful.'' you said still looking around.
,,We do.We stay here until Frenchie and Hughie are done with their part, I'll do the driving part and you can just take a break from studying.'' Butcher said.
,,Writing.About what?Failed artists or sexual frustrated fans?'' you asked not very convinced.
,,Funny that you mention that.'' said Butcher while he took out his mobile to show you something.
,,You asshole.How?'' you only managed to ask, mouth opened in disbelieve when you recognised your account with your posts.
,,I have my sources.'' said Butcher with a grin and started to scroll through your account.
,,I stayed logged in from last night.'' you said already knowing the answer while palming your face.
,,That answers my first question.All those thirsty posts from you are current?'' asked he while grinning down at his mobile.
,,No!They are in fact very old.Almost as old as you are.'' you said trying to stop Butcher from reading your stuff.
,,Screw this stupid article and you for that - I'm not that old.This is just pure smut- or is there also a perfectly argumented critic behind getting fucked by Eddie Vedder.I can't believe it you're writing texts to jack off to. '' said Billy still amused.,,Our sweet and intellectual Y/N does such naughty things in her spare time.''
,,My only texts to jack off to are my works, once they are approved by my professors.'' you said not interested in talking about your dark past.
,,And thats the problem.You need a day off, even I noticed that you have been fucking tense lately.'' Butcher said, you could tell that the last part was truly concerned.
,,With spending my day at this sad convention.Thank you Butcher.'' you said playing it down.
,,I can't let the guys be alone by themselves love.Besides I think I might can help with that, getting rid of some tension, you know?'' he said in his cocky voice.You eyed him up with a strange grin.
,,Is that an offer? I never thought you could be so generous yet so romantic.'' you said with a snort.
,,Same goes for you, in all this dirty talk and kink stuff I still can find your romantic side between the lines.Even though many seemed not to think so, according to your likes.'' said Butcher with a last look at his mobile while you gave him a last warning look.
,,That was not written from my heart nor my head, and I'm lucky my libido is not supposed to generate likes.'' you said.Butcher had to laugh at this genuily, before both of you continued you walk.
,,This is just fucking sad.When you read all those comics you can clearly read what people need right now and if you compare it to our reality it makes this whole shit even more worse.I hope Frenchie and Hughie can handle this guy.'' you said when you had stoped by a booth with comic books and looked over them.Butcher humed.
,,I guess they will be fine.The only special thing he can do his talk to animals.'' said Butcher and you noded with a chuckle, now you knew what Supe they wanted to meet here.
,,I thought you like this stuff, at least according to your shelves.'' said Butcher looking over your shoulder into the comic you held in your hands.
,,Since when do you look for people to interriogate that I could possibly like?'' you asked with smirk, before you put the comic back.
,,I'm not.That was just a lucky coincidence.Or unlucky - you still seem pissed.What's wrong?'' Butcher asked.
,,Honey I have work to do.Sundays are planed for studying.'' you explained tired but still had to smile since you thanked Butcher for his effort.
,,Honey huh? You really start to become soft with me.'' said Butcher with a smirk and followed you when you turned away from him to continue your walk.
,,You should know by now that I use those names when I just don't want to call you something mean.'' you said.
,,Well if you hate it here we can at least have a bit fun with your writing.'' Butcher said putting his mobile out again.
In the next minutes Butcher managed to get to know about all your preferences that your posts could reveal and he clearly seemed to enjoy that.You would also start to ask him out since you wanted to keep this interriogation fair, that leaded to the both of you having a very open conversation about sex and some weird stories about some experiences, almost in the middle of a convention.But you didn't care this entertained you clearly more than the comic books.
You got interrupted by a call you had to answer.After some time you came back to Butcher to tell him that you needed to go back to your dorm since a friend reminded you of the upcoming test next next week.
You already wanted to turn on your heel and call your friend back again, when Butcher reached out for your hand.A discussion started about wether you would leave this convention or not.
,,Are you mad you can't just forbid me to stay.'' you said after you gave up on explaining yourself properly.
,,When was the last time you just did nothing?You're completly stressed out Y/N.Have you at least eaten something today?'' asked Butcher.
,,No.Thanks to you guys I got kicked out of bed.'' you said, having Butcher cursing under his breath when he realised that.
,,I will make it up for you, just try to stay calm now.Your lips look terrible already.'' said Butcher still holding your hand in his.
,,What?'' you asked clearly a bit confused at this remark.
,,You always chew your lips when you're stressed out and they look awful right now.'' said he and you had to praise him again for being sensitive, recieving an grumpy look.But he was right when you gave him a smile in response you noticed how chapped they were.Great now you looked tired and terrible.
,,Maybe next Sunday.I still need to get a job once this whole detective thing with us is done.'' you said, tears started to fill your eyes caused by your rising stress level and even with the sunglasses Butcher could tell how you felt right now.
In the same moment Hughie and Frenchie ran to you , being completly out of breath but still managed to tell you that they messed up.The Supe had no interest messing around with Vought and called the security.You tried took calm down, that your tears would stay in your eyes and focused on the conversation between the boys.
,,This stupid eco- fucker.'' said Butcher.
,,Did you just asked him nicely or did you also brought some good arguments with you.'' you asked.
,,What should we havve against him? Sometimes you just have to hope that some people still have the balls to do something good.'' said Hughie.
,,Or you have to hope that they also just assholes.'' you said and pulled your phone out to search for something.
,,Here that's a list of women , who accuse him of sexual harassment, there are even videos and pictures on this side to prove their accusations.I thought you were prepared.'' you said and handed Hughie your mobile.
,,Where did you get this from?'' asked Butcher.
,,I have my sources.No matter how stupid the fandom we nerds stay together.'' you said a bit exaggerated.
,,At least something for today.'' you said now a bit satisfied when you looked after Frenchie and Hughie who walked back to the supes booth.
You even allowed Butcher to lay an arm over your should to pull you close to him.
,,That was fucking diabolical.Don't you ever think less of you love.'' said Butcher.
You pressed yourself against him and hid your face in his jacket, afraid that someone would see you start crying otherwise.A deep breath came from him and you could hear his smile out of it, while his hand stroked your hair softly.
,,Thanks.'' you said once you found your voice again, with your head buried in his shirt.
,,Come on lets get you back home.Guess the boys won't take long now.'' said Butcher and brought you to the car with his arm still around you.
While you were driving back you fell asleep.Butcher had decided to take you with them despite your saying but when you woke up after some nice hours of sleep and all cuddled up in your blanket you didn't mind at all.Frenchie had even made some waffles before he and Kimiko went away to spend the rest of the day together.
,,You know when you aren't tired or hungry you actually look kinda hot, even with those chapped lips.'' said Butcher when you stood next to him to you lay your empty plate on the kitchen island.
You gave him a smirk.,,Do you always flirt with women like this?'' you asked.Your gaze on him tried to stay unimpressed, when he pressed you against the table with his familiar smirk on.
,,Only if they are also into quickies on kitchen tables.'' said Butcher, his hands roamed over your curves carefully to test the waters.
,,You really needed my bad writing for this?'' you asked in disbelieve, when you already were sat on the table and started to kiss Butcher.
,,Don't worry love I myself have plenty of ideas for us.'' said Butcher before he started to kiss you again.
110 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Everything - Part Three
A Take it Slow Sequel
What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.
Warnings: Fluff and Smut.
a/n: not proofread fam, I didn’t have the strength.
Masterpost
“Oh!” You pause the TV.
“Y/N! It’s the middle of the second season finale are you fuckin’ kidding?!”
“I forgot to tell you something earlier.” You giggle.
“Alright, what is it?”
“Our new intern goes to my college, my undergrad, and he’s part of the film club, the one I helped create when I was a student, and he asked me to come to a meeting next Thursday. Would you wanna come with me? The meeting itself is at like 8PM, but I thought we could go beforehand, I could give you a little tour…”
“He asked you to come to a meeting?”
“Yeah! He wants me to like explain what I do now, and how being the film club helped me in a professional sense. He’s even going to email the director of alumni relations to see if they’ll do an article on me for the alumni magazine, but I doubt they will.”
“Why not? You’re incredibly successful, and didn’t you say an alum helped you get the job? I bet once you tell them that they’d feature you. You could talk about how important the alumni network is.”
“Harry!” You squeal and tackle him down, kissing him all over his face. He starts laughing underneath you.
“What? What?” He could barely breathe from your sudden affection.
“You’re so cute when you’re being supportive.” You nuzzle into his neck and he rubs your back.
“Well then I must be cute all the time then, huh?”
“Mhm.”
//
You forgot how beautiful your campus could be in the fall. Even though it was in the city, it had some beautiful parks and pathways. After work you had changed into a pair of jeans and a blouse. You didn’t want to look too fancy. You showed Harry different buildings where you had class, and the dorm you lived in freshman year. You both decide to go eat at a pub you used to love.
“Harry, it’s okay, have a beer if you want.”
“But I feel bad…”
“I really don’t mind. I’m fine with the seltzer water.” You smile reassuringly and he order the beer.
Once you’re done with everything you walk him around some more. You show him where you lived sophomore year, and then start walking towards the building where the film club meeting is. You see a group of people walking towards you and you gasp.
“No fucking way.” You groan and hide slightly behind Harry.
“What?”
“Nothing, we just need to walk very fast by-“
“Y/N?” A man says.
“Shit.” You say under your breath. “Um, Chris?”
“What are you doing here?!” He goes to hug you but you clutch at Harry.
“I was invited to a film club meeting…what are you doing here? I thought you graduated…”
“I did! I’m an RD.” He smiles and looks at Harry.
“Sorry, uh, this is my fiancé, Harry.”
“Hey, mate.” They shake hands.
“Wow! Congratulations. Well I won’t keep you. We should catch up sometime.”
“Sure.” You give him a fake smile and keep walking. “Gag me.”
“Who was that?”
“A guy I hooked up with like once, and he wouldn’t leave me alone. It took me going to California for him to stop asking me to come over. It was so annoying. Like take a hint dude.”
“Why didn’t you wanna hook up with him again?” Harry asks with a laugh.
“Oh, like you would always hit it twice.”
“Good point.” He smirks. “Suppose I don’t blame him, I mean, I’ve seen what that ass looks like when it’s bouncing up and down on my cock, I’d probably want you to come over again too.”
“Harry!” You smack him in the arm, making him laugh. “One beer at dinner and you’ve gone all goofy.”
“I’m just teasin’.” He throws his arm around your shoulders as you continue your walk to the building.
“Here it is, let me just text Zach that we’re here.” You both wait a few minutes, and Zach comes out to open the door.
“Hi, Y/N! Thanks again for coming, everyone is really excited. You must be Harry.” He smiles and shakes Harry’s hand. You both walk into the building. “Y/N talks about you all the time, it’s so cool that you have your own photography studio. I bet you could show some of these guys a thing or two.”
Harry liked Zach so far, he seemed polite and genuine.
“All the time, huh?” He nudges you.
“Not all the time, only when it’s relevant.”
Zach leads you into the room you knew very well. It was a computer lab you used to hold your film club meetings in. There was a screen, projector, white boards, all things you and your friends needed to have productive meetings.
“Hey, everyone!” About fifteen or so students turn to look at you and Harry. “This is Y/F/N Y/L/N and her fiancé Harry, Y/N graduated in 2017 and she’s one of my supervisors at my internship. She is one of the founding members of this club!” They all clap for you, and you’re a little surprised. “Come on in, tell them about yourself, what you do.”
You step further into the room so you can see everyone clearly.
“Thanks Zach, um, hi everyone!” You say brightly. “I’m feeling really nostalgic right now since I used to have my meetings in here too. We worked on so many cool projects, and my sophomore year we even made a short film that I stared in.” Harry’s eyebrows raise. He didn’t know you were in front of the camera as well as behind it.
“That’s why you look so familiar! At the beginning of every school year we watch a ton of past projects. You played the girl that went missing right?” A students says.
“Yeah, that was me.” You laugh.
“And you made that one about the purple pencil, that cracks me up.” Another says.
“Yes…that one was like a film challenge that the president at the time had us do. It was a lot of fun. Being in this club really took me out of my comfort zone. I never would’ve learned how to properly use a camera for filming or even taking pictures if it weren’t for film club. I have a job in marketing now where I get to edit video and sound clips, and I even supervise part of our social media department now. I really enjoy what I do.”
“Y/N was able to do well in her interview because another alum was already working there, and gave her some tips.” Zach explains.
“That’s right. It’s really important to know who your alums are, that’s why LinkedIn is so crucial.”
“Could you pull yours up?” A student asks.
“Sure! If that’s something everyone wants to see…”
They all agree and Zach logs onto the computer that’s connected to the projector. Harry takes pictures of you while you’re going over your LinkedIn.
“I think the best advice I could give is just don’t be afraid to try things. If you want to get better at something you need to practice. I went from using Windows Movie Maker, to iMovie, and now I use Adobe Premiere. It’s okay if things take time, and if there is something you want to do and you’re not sure how, don’t be afraid to Google it. I remember I had no idea how to do like a slow zoom, and I just looked it up and it was super easy to get the hang of. Create the content you’d want to watch, and have fun with it.” You smile.
A few students ask you some questions, and you end up giving out some of your business cards, good thing you brought them. Some students wanted to be able to reach out to you for resume help.
“Thanks again for coming. I’m gonna put another bug in the director’s ear. I think this is something that should be in the magazine. Oh! Do you plan to come to Homecoming Weekend?” Zach asks.
“Um.” You blink. “God, I haven’t gone to Homecoming since I was a student myself.” You snort.
“It’s alumni weekend too, you should come. I’ll be working at the alumni table, then I could introduce you.”
“When is it?”
“First weekend of October.” You look up at Harry. He looks at the calendar on his phone.
“Think I’m free…” He says.
“We could certainly try to swing by…that’s like next weekend…I have some friends that might wanna come too.”
“I can send you an email with the registration link and with all the activities for the weekend. It’s a lot of fun, as I’m sure you remember.”
“Yeah, I sort of participated in different activities…” You blush.
“Well either way.” He shrugs.
“I’ll let you know at work if we’ll be able to go. This was a lot of fun though, I’ll come back any time.”
You say goodbye to everyone, and walk out hand in hand with Harry.
“You’re really good at explaining things.” He says to you.
“What do you mean?”
“Like…you never got frustrated, or annoyed. Some of their questions were stupid, I easily would’ve gotten aggravated.”
“They don’t know what they don’t know.”
“All I’m saying is, like, ten years from now I could see you bein’ a professor or somethin’. You’ll have your MEd, you could teach an online class as a TL and see how you like and then go from there. You love learning, Y/N, why not get paid to do it?”
“I think I could see that for myself, but yeah, ten years from now. I’m curious to see how I could keep moving up at work. It would be weird to leave there. I mean, I know people don’t stay at the same place for thirty years anymore…but it would be sad to go. Plus I would miss Niall way too much.”
“Yeah, but he could easily find another job if he wanted. You shouldn’t stay somewhere just because your friends are there.”
“Says the person that persuaded the two friends he made at work to follow him to his studio.” You nudge him playfully.
“Alright you got me there, but seriously, don’t use him as an excuse.”
“I know, you’re right. Let me actually get the Med first, and then I’ll start thinking about things I wanna do years from now, okay?”
“Sounds good to me.”
You both get into your car and head home.
“So I know we like just got engaged, but I was thinking while the weather is still nice it might not be a bad idea to start lookin’ at some potential spots we’d wanna get married at…” You could tell he was slightly nervous to bring it up.
“I think that’s a good idea. I think you and I need to sit down and consider a budget before we hop in the car and start looking. We need to do some research online.”
“That money you wouldn’t let me pay you I was thinking could go towards the wedding.”
“Harry.” You sigh. “Shouldn’t that money go back towards the business? Or couldn’t it be saved for a holiday bonus for Mariah and Isaac.”
“I have money set aside for that already.” He says matter of factly. “You won’t let me pay you, and that’s money you’ve earned. So we should use it towards something.”
“Fine.”
“At least we’ll save money on a photographer. Mariah’s really talented.”
“I know! She’s great at capturing the moment. Did you want her to be the one to take the photos?”
“Considering how Lou’s probably going to be my best man, she’s the only other person I would trust.”
“That’s so cute you both are gonna be each other’s best men.” You giggle. “I sort of had an idea for Niall.”
“I’d really rather him be in my wedding party, he’s been my friend longer, and-“
“Actually, I don’t want him in either of our wedding parties.” You pull into the parking garage and you both get out.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he’s the whole reason we’re together right?”
“Yeah.”
“So…why not let him be the one to make it official?” Harry stops short when you get into the lobby of your building.
“You want him to officiate the wedding?”
“Yeah…it just feels right.” You shrug. You both get into the elevator. “What do you think?”
“I think I need to make sure I’m filming when we tell him because he’s gonna cry.” Harry smiles. “It’s a great idea, Y/N.”
“We should pick up a little gift for him, or like take him to dinner.”
“Ohhh, I like that.” He kisses your cheek as you both enter your apartment.
Buster greets the two of you, he was doing much better. You both sit down on the sofa and flip the TV on.
“Who were you thinkin’ for your wedding party then?”
“Well, it’s going to be really hard to pick a maid of honor…it always supposed to be Kate. I was her, you know? But obviously that’s not happening. I don’t know how I’d be able to choose between Sarah and Rachel.” You sigh. “I’m equally close with them…I’ll have to talk to them about it and see what they think, honestly. I don’t want anyone’s feelings getting hurt.” Harry nods. “Then my sisters would be in the party too, El of course.” You think a bit more. “That might actually be it. I have other girlfriends, but I don’t need a ton of bridesmaids. What about you?”
“Louis, obviously, Mitch…him and Sarah said congrats by the way I completely forgot to tell you. I was thinking of maybe askin’ Isaac…I’d like my sister to be in my party too.”
“Aw, that would be so cute! Oh, and I bet by the time we actually do get married Michael will be able to walk all on his own, he could be like the flower boy or something.”
“That would be really cute. Didn’t you say you wanted it to be kind of Jewish too? Like you wanted someone there to bless us?”
“My cantor from my old temple, yeah…but we don’t have to if that’s too formal.”
“No, I think it would be nice to add in there. I just don’t wanna wear the little hat if that’s okay.”
“Don’t worry.” You laugh. “You don’t have to wear the little hat.” You burst out laughing.
“What?” Harry laughs.
“I was just picturing Gemma walking one of my sisters down the aisle.” You wipe tears from your eyes. “We’ll really have to figure all this out soon.”
“That would be pretty funny.” He puts his arm around you and pulls you close. “It’s nice talkin’ about this without it bein’ hypotheticals, like, this is really happening.” He kisses your forehead.
“I know, I’m really excited, babe.” You give him a quick peck. “We just need to get through Erica’s wedding and Lou and El’s.”
“I know, a lot is gonna happen all at once.” He sighs. “Lou’s is before your sister’s though, June if I’m remembering from the save the date correctly.”
“Yeah, and Erica’s is in July, I could kill her.”
“Why?” He chuckles.
“Because it’s going to be the dead of summer, we’re going to look sweaty and gross. And of course she’s getting married at some farm, so it’s gonna be all humid and blah.” You groan. “Whatever makes her happy I suppose. I’m just glad Mike finally asked her, took him long enough.”
“Everyone does everything in their own time, baby. Weren’t they really young when they first got together?”
“Yeah she was a senior in high school, and he was out of school for a couple of years���it was a pretty cute way they met. She was working at a RiteAid at this outlet mall, and he was working at Game Stop, and I guess he would go to RiteAid like every day for a snack on his lunch break, and he would say hi to everyone but her, so one day she gave him shit for it and they started talking. Turns out his aunt was our neighbor and we had like played with him when we were kids and didn’t even know. And his older sister was best friends with Bridget when they were in high school.”
“Wow, small world.”
“Right?”
“That is a pretty cute story, but I like ours better.”
“Oh, you do?”
“Yeah, I mean, how romantic is it that a mutual friend set us up, and we had this really great dinner date?”
“It’s pretty romantic, doll.” You yawn. “Yikes, I’m tired. I’m glad tomorrow’s Friday.”
“Me too, let’s head to bed.” He stretches as he stands and follows you to the bedroom.
//
It felt so good to sleep in Saturday morning. You stretch as you sit up, and start to get out of bed, but Harry yanks you down to him, making you squeal.
“Why do you always insist on gettin’ right up?” He mumbles as he wraps himself around you to spoon you.
“I don’t want Buster to shit himself.” You giggle.
“He knows to go on the piddle pad if we don’t get right up.” He pushes his morning wood against your ass.
“Jesus.” You groan. “You don’t wanna cuddle, you just wanna having a morning fuck.” His arm slips up under your shirt so he can caress one of your breasts.
“I want both.” He says into your ear. His hand slides down to between your legs and he smirks. “Seems like you do too.” He starts to rub circles on your clit while he grinds against you. You back up against him to really feel how hard he is.
Heavy petting was rare between you two. Usually you would just end up diving into the sex, but this first thing in the morning was like heaven. The way he would really ease you into it. His fingers slowly start to slip inside, and you find yourself turning onto your stomach. Harry gets full on top of you, his chest flush with your back. You your ass up slightly so he can continue to finger and rub you. He gets his fingers in and then drags them out and up to your clit. You moan out in your pillow. He continues to grind against your ass, getting right between your cheeks. He had his boxers on so you weren’t worried about anything slipping into the wrong hole.
“You’re so wet.” He groans. “Want me to fuck you, baby?”
“Yes.”
He leans up, only for a moment, to get his boxers off. He gets back on you the way he was, nice and close, and slides in.
“Ah, fuck.” You moan out.
Harry keeps his fingers on your clit while he rocks in and out of you. His other hand slides up to the back of your head, and he gets a light grip on your hair. He knows not to pull too hard.
“Feels good, angel?”
“So good, Harry.”
He continues to rock in and out of you, and once you come from him rubbing on your clit, he pulls out to flip you over. He yanks your shirt off so you’re fully exposed to him. He slides back in and wraps his lips around one of your nipples. One of your hands is tugging on his hair while the other is digging into his back.
“Really give it me, babe, come on.”
“Want it hard, Y/N?”
“Hard and fast.”
Harry grins and sits up, grabbing both of your legs to put over his shoulders. He stretches his neck and cracks his knuckles, making you laugh. He loved when you two would laugh when you were intimate. It didn’t always need to be so serious. He pulls out nearly all the way and slams back into you. You gasp at the feeling, but you love it. He does this over and over, picking up the pace each time, making the bed start to shake. He was hitting the right spot over and over. You fist at the blankets with your head slamming far into your pillow. You grit your teeth as you feel your orgasm approaching. He could tell you were close from the way you were clenching around him. He almost wanted to pull out and make you beg him for it, but he also loved seeing how far gone you were and didn’t want to tease you. He knew he was hitting just the right spot, just a few more thrusts…
“Holy shit!” You scream as everything in your vision goes white. Tears well up in your eyes as he fucks you through the orgasm that was making you feel like you were going to collapse from within. “Oh my god, Harry! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Your praise was enough to make him lose it, and his come spurts inside you, filling you to the brim. He looks down at you to see your chest still heaving. He pulls out of you slowly and you whimper from the loss of contact. He leans down and gives you a kiss on the forehead.
“Good game.” He shakes your hand.
“Oh, shut up.” You swat at him and laugh.
You both shower quick, and go out to feed Buster. He did, in fact, need to use the piddle pad. After he eats Harry takes him out for a proper walk while you get some breakfast for the two of you going. Just some simple oatmeal.
“So, do you wanna go over a budget today? We could set up at the dining room table, and you could get a spreadsheet goin’ on your laptop.”
“Yeah, we can definitely do that.” You smile.
You and Harry sit down at the dining table, while Buster rests his head in your lap as he sits at your feet.
“Does he do that a lot?”
“Hm?” You look down at Buster. “Yeah, he likes to sit under my desk like that with me at work.” You grin at Harry. “He’s just like his daddy.” You pinch his cheek and he swats your hand away.
“Shut up.” He nudges your shoulder. “Want me to replace him right now, cause I will.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
You pull up excel and name a bunch of rows with what you’ll need money for. Venue, food, drinks, photographer/videographer, DJ, hotel rooms, bachelorette/bachelor party, bridal shower, dress, etc.
“My friend Adam, the guy we got Buster from, is actually a really good DJ…”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, he always used to put playlists together for our parties and stuff. I’m pretty sure he has a DJ business on the side. I could ask him what his rates are.”
“That would be great. So…I don’t want this to be crazy expensive…like it seems silly to drop what could someday be a down payment on a house on a party for one night.”
“I agree. I don’t want it to get out of hand. I feel like the venue will be the most expensive. Let’s try to figure out where we want it so we can compare prices. Some hotels have the food and drinks included and some don’t.”
“I think…like in my wildest dreams, I’d love for it to be at a hotel on the Cape, like have the beach behind us…the ceremony outside, and then the reception would be indoors, but maybe there’s this outside patio area or something?”
“Ohh, I can really picture that. We both love the beach, let’s look and see.”
“I feel like that’s gonna be expensive.”
“We won’t know unless we look.” He grabs your laptop and opens Google. “Maybe we could find an inn or somethin’.”
“True, that would be cute actually.”
The two of you see the different options out there and find two you really like. You book a couple of tours on their websites so you can physically see the spaces.
“Oh, I wanted to ask, are we doin’ like a traditional cake or did you want cupcakes? I’ve seen a lot of people save money on just doin’ cupcakes, and then havin’ a small cake just made for the couple.”
“I think that’s a great idea. Then we could have a variety of cupcakes so everyone could find something they like. There’s a bakery I really like that back home that did my Bat Mitzvah cake, I’d like to go there to maybe do a tasting?”
“Sure.” He smiles. “I’ll let you set that up, and you can just tell me when.”
“Okay.”
“Maybe we could do like a lemon cake since we both like that.”
“Mm, my mouth is already watering. I’ll definitely set that up soon. I guess there’s not much else we can really do until we set a date, and then we can work backwards.”
“Guess you’re right.” He rubs his eyes and rests his chin in his palm. “What were you thinking for a bachelor and bachelorette?”
“God, I have no idea. I’m the sure the girls will think of something.”
“Did you wanna do a combined thing, or be completely separate. S’not like it’ll be the night before the wedding, like it could be a month or so ahead.”
“To be honest, I’d like to have a weekend with just the girls…”
“Alright.”
“Is that okay? I mean, I had a lot of fun for my birthday, but-“
“No, I really don’t mind. I just didn’t know if you wanted a combined trip, but we can have separate things.” He shrugs.
“What do you think you wanna do?”
“I was thinin’ maybe like a trip to Mohegan Sun with the guys. We went years ago, and it was a lot of fun.”
“Oo, do a little gambling, that would be fun.” You sigh. “I’m not gonna be able to drink during any of this.” You groan.
“You’ll still have fun, baby.”
“I know, but I’m gonna have to tell my friends why I’m not drinking…”
“You can just say you’re on a medication that doesn’t allow you to consume alcohol, you don’t have to specify any more than that if you don’t want to. Do you really think they’ll judge you?”
“It’s not the judgement…it’s the look on their faces I know they’ll give me. The medication has helped me a lot, I think.”
“I’m really proud of you for taking it so consistently.”
“I just take it with my birth control…it’s easy to remember.”
“Babe.” He saves the file you were working on and closes your laptop. He turns so his body is facing yours. “Can you take a second and just think about how far you’ve come? In the year that I’ve know you, you’ve made so many great steps. I can remember times you getting so frustrated because you never thought you’d be in a place where we’d be able to just go at it. I mean, think of how we had sex just this morning. You weren’t in a place this time last year to be able to do that, and now you are. I know it’s not just about sex, there’s a lot of mental progress you’ve made too, but I feel like physically, I just feel so close with you, I feel like every time we do it we get closer.” Your eyes were glossy while you listened to him.
You felt overwhelmed by his kind words. He was right about everything. You had made a ton of progress, and you didn’t reflect on it as much as you should. You stand up and he pushes his seat you. You sit down on him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. He holds you close and rubs your back. Buster yips at the two of you, clearly upset that his head was no longer comfortably resting in your lap. You both look down at him.
“He really is just like me, huh?”
#my everything#take it slow#take it slow sequel#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles y/n#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff fic#harry styles smut fic#enjoy!
241 notes
·
View notes
Note
first frost and cosy night in? :3
30. First Frost + 33. Cozy Night In
from autumn fic prompts here
here’s a quick lil penpal era fic before class!
--------------------
Newt’s used to hard winters at this point, and winters that come early, and winters that send him searching desperately for the most high-grade space heater available on the market (his heating is always busted, always), but he thinks the universe is feeling a certain kind of sadistic today, because the instant he steps out onto the tiny patch of grass that’s technically his front lawn, it’s to feel a loud crunch. Not the charming crunch of dead leaves either, which is what’s to be expected for pleasant autumn’s been; it’s the unmistakable crunch of frost. Early frost. The first frost. Newt looks down at his docs with a sigh. “Not fair,” he groans. He lifts one up, then back down on the white-tinged grass. Crunch.
The wind is on the uncomfortable side of chilly, too, more than Newt’s trusty sweatshirt is willing to endure, and he shivers as a gust of it kicks up a pile of leaves and sends them tumbling past him. It’s the kind of wind he associates with the cold, dark days of late November—way too premature for October. He’s so not looking forward to walking the whole twenty minutes to campus in this. He’ll need a scarf, at the very least. And maybe a stop for coffee. Definitely a stop for coffee.
He shoots off a quick email to his class as—scarf his uncle knitted him wrapped freshly around his neck—he makes a jog for the nearest Dunkin: Running late! Feel free to use time to discuss questions about the midterm w/ each other, will answer when I get there -Dr. G. Then he picks them up a dozen donuts to make up for it, too, because he’s just that a great of a professor.
The donuts are a hit, and the resulting combination group sugar rush and sentiments of good will makes for one of their most spirited class discussions of the semester. Newt fields questions left and right, develops a cramp in his hand from needing to scrawl so fast across the whiteboard, and dishes out no less than twenty total points of extra credit. He gets so into it, in fact, he forgets about how much he’s dreading to walk the twenty minutes back home in the cold, cold wind. Almost, anyway. He lets class drag on just a little over the ending time, and is relieved when a handful of students stay behind to ask just a few more questions about midterm submission guidelines. He lets that drag on, too, and it’s not until the eleven AM environmental science class that uses the room after him begin peeping their heads around the doorframe and clearing their throats that he’s forced out.
Out into the cold.
He goes straight for his living room couch after a brisk walk back to his place, diving beneath his pile of throw blankets and pillows and cranking the little knob on his space heater up to ten. It’s really not that cold compared to what’s to come in January, but it’s still too fucking early for it, damn it. Unseasonable! Newt deserves to enjoy a little mild autumn weather before the winter.
“It’s just unseasonable,” he gripes to his cat, who’s curled itself up lazily in front of the space heater in a blink of an eye. It doesn’t even look at Newt. It’s not fair, really, that it got to stay home all day and Newt didn’t. Or that it’s soaking up all the heat before any of it can reach Newt. “You don’t know how good you’ve got it,” he tells it.
His phone buzzes.
His spirits do an immediate one-eighty: it’s an email from Hermann. Suddenly, staying in for the rest of the evening doesn’t seem so bad. Desirable, even.
So (Newt rushes to grab his laptop) he has a little bit of a crush on his mysterious penpal. So (he quickly lights a few candles he has spread out across the living room) maybe it’s actually more like he’s a little bit in love with his mysterious penpal So (he dims the lights) emails from Hermann are the highlight of his day. Or (he fixes himself a little mug of tea) maybe more like year. It’s normal. It’s normal to have friends, and crushes, and penpals, and penpals who are your only friend and maybe also your crush. It’s all totally normal!
He explains all this to his cat, who is very uninterested, but who hops up onto Newt’s legs the instant Newt curls back underneath his throw blanket, which Newt takes as a sign of affection if nothing else. He holds his breath as he opens Hermann’s email, ignoring the stupid butterflies in his stomach. It’s normal.
Dear Newton-
I apologize for my rather belated, and rather short, response; Father has me working day and night on updating the coding for our newest jaegers, and this is the first moment I’ve managed to steal for myself in well over a week. I appreciate your design inputs, though I must--once again--remind you that built-in Bluetooth speakers are impractical, useless, and unnecessarily costly, and that between us two, only one of us has pioneered the jaeger tech field. In more personal matters...
Newt pets his cat as he reads on, a little smile blooming over his face. Hermann bought a sweater; Hermann switched tea brands out of rationing necessity, and found he likes the new one better; Hermann’s article was accepted into the next edition of a Jaeger Science journal he's obsessed with, and he wants Newt to glance over it one last time for any final edits. (That’s attached to the email, as is a very poorly-lit and very blurry mirror selfie of Hermann looking grumpy in his new sweater. Adorable.)
As always, Newton, I appreciate your correspondence.
Sincerely, Dr. Hermann Gottlieb.
It’s how he always finishes. It’s also kind of adorable, to be honest--three years of writing to each other, and he still signs off like they’re total strangers, and like they don’t send each other birthday cards and Hanukkah presents every damn year. “Adorable,” Newt says, and shakes his head. He scratches his cat behind the ears, and it purrs happily.
Hermann (he writes back)-
I notice you didn’t say anything about the totally cool and totally practical laser-beam eyes idea I had too. Does that mean you’re using it? Don’t forget to credit me.
I’m sorry you’re overworked. I don’t think I know anyone who needs a break or a little bit of fun more than you. I wish I could...
What Newt wishes is that Hermann was relaxing here with him: he wishes Hermann was curled up under his throw blanket, with Newt’s cat purring on both of them, and Hermann’s arm around Newt, and that he had a mug of tea, too, and Newt could read over his article out loud while they huddled over his laptop, and Hermann would be so impressed with how smart his edits were that he’d say something like well done, Newton! and then he’d... Well. Newt backspaces over the paragraph. Too much.
I wish I could help, he says. Lame, but whatever.
He writes (about the cold, about his classes, about the kaiju sample he’s finally managed to get the funding to afford) until the sun sets outside his window, and one of his candles finally burns down to the wick and flares out with a sputter of smoke. Newt’s cat begins to knead at his chest in the way that means I’m hungry, feed me dinner. “Alright, alright,” Newt tells it, because he’s feeling pretty hungry himself. He glances over the email one last time to make sure he doesn't sound pathetically lovesick before signing off with a -Newt and sending it.
He feeds his cat and fixes himself a little bowl of soup to eat on the couch. It’s turned into a pretty nice night, actually. Cozy. Comfortable. He can’t stop smiling. Maybe he’s a little bit in love with Hermann, so sue him.
43 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiya Clari my love I am sorry for disappearing for a lil bit, life just be that way sometimes 💖
Head empty no thoughts besides from Touya as a professor - not really his vibe but just imagining scumbag know it all student Touya becoming just an older manipulative know it all professor has just filled my head <3
I hope you’re doing better and you’re day is going good, I had a self care day today which basically is just sheet mask, candle and bath time - does help tho I must admit <3 how are you doing, how’s your day been? Sending all my love and hugs to you <333-🍯
hi my sweet honey!!! absolutely no apology necessary at all, you know this <33 you can come to visit as often or as little as you’d like and i’ll always be over here chillin in my lil corner of the internet <333
OOOOOOOH TOUYA AS A SCUMMY PROF????? OH MY GOD HONEY YES YES YES ABSOLUTELY
like he goes into it for the money, cause it pays so well and he’s so intelligent that he finds it easy, for the most part. he doesn’t make any powerpoints or keynotes AT ALL; either you come to class and listen to him lecture halfheartedly (and as a result endure his extremely dry humour) or you don’t fucking pass—simple.
he’s definitely one of those profs that just lectures and then expects everyone to understand exactly what he means because he does and really? it’s so easy, how could you not get it? kids really are getting more and more stupid, huh. he mostly teaches the third and fourth year classes because he quite literally cannot be bothered to teach first years, and the university values him so much—since he writes such fantastic articles + research papers and gives the university a hefty amount of clout—that they let him do what he wants.
it’s kind of the perfect job, really. he’s a notoriously hard marker, purely because he loves to watch his students suffer (he’s borderline antisocial personality disorder, too) and is sure to mark the pretty ones extra hard, just so they’ll come to his office with tears in their eyes begging him to help them raise their grade in his class and god, he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his life <3
ehehe i’m doing okay sweetpea, really hustling to finally FINALLY finish bmb pt3 but so far i’m super happy with what i’ve got and have to stop myself from spoiling it for all of you because i’m just SO excited for everyone to read it!!! i’ve been working hard to distract myself, so <33 i’m glad to hear you had a self-care day, that sounds absolutely lovely! i truly hope you’re feeling better now, my lil honeybun <3 sending bunches of love back!!!
#*inhales*#PROF TOUYAAAAAAAAAAAA#WHAAAAAAAS I WANT HIM I WANT HIM I WANT HIM#HONEYYYYYYY WHAT A BEAUTIFUL BIG BRAIN IDEA!!!! <333#you’re such a sweetheart tho truly i hope you are doing better now#i love you very much and i am sending you positive vibes along with all my love hehehe<333#i hope you’re staying safe!! <33 and that your family is doing well!!#pls take good care of yourself bb you deserve it <3#🍯.anon#clari gets mail#stanley queuebrick
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
i just wanted them to see one (1) film
ok so as promised, some background research for nothing up my sleeve, starting with the fact that segregation makes literally everything that ray & allison do in 1963 Dallas so fucking complicated.
case in point: i wanted ray & allison to go to a movie. specifically, i wanted them to go see The Nutty Professor, because that came out in June 1963 and I thought it would be funny to have Allison namedrop Eddy Murphy on accident (this.... may or may not have been the joke that kickstarted the entire fic, honestly). but of course america is terrible so ray & allison cannot just go to the movies:
Movie theaters were segregated; either they did not allow black people in at all, or they relegated them to “colored balconies” or matinee/late-night films only. “Stand-in” demonstrations in Austin, TX from 1960-1962 (which spilled over into Dallas) forced the desegregation of movie theaters there and other cities in the South, but colored balconies persisted for years. This remained true in Dallas, where none of the cinemas on Theatre Row would allow black people to buy tickets at the main entrance. Given that the protestors at Allison & Ray’s sit in are literally chanting “No more back door,” I felt the Chestnuts are more likely to picket and/or drop kick the Majestic than buy tickets there.
So what are our options? Well, there were black-owned movie theaters for black audiences. However, these theaters typically got movies months or even years after their release (and I want Allison to see this movie sometime before shit goes down in Nov. 1963). Also, while I can find evidence of plenty of black theaters through the 20′s and 30′s, it seems like almost all of them had closed down by 1960 since they couldn’t compete with the rise of television.
What about drive-ins, which peaked in popularity in the 50′s and 60′s? There were plenty of these in Dallas! Plus, segregation was less enforced there, though it did exist in the form of partitioned “colored sections” of parking lots. Happily, activists found that the “stand-ins” they’d do at regular movie theaters were even more effective with drive-ins. At the theater you stand in line to try and politely buy a ticket, get refused, go to the back of the line and try again -- and wildly inconvenience the movie theater & white customers in the process. In the drive-in, you park your car at the ticket window and effectively block all other customers from coming in, and no one can shove you out of the way or really do much about it. Research is sparse, but from what I’ve found drive-in theaters ‘saw the writing on the wall’ and started quietly desegregating in 1961-62. It’s cutting it pretttty close, though, to say that they’d be desegregated by June 1963.
But hey, happy news: we’ve got a best of both worlds option with the Starlite drive-in theater! The Starlite seems to have been more famous/better off than other black-owned movie theaters of the day; it was marketed as “Southwest’s finest for colored entertainment,” survived the rise of television, and played films for black audiences in Dallas for more than 25 years. And it was definitely still around in 1963. Boo yah!
so like 20 articles and several hours and 2-3 despairings of humanity later, i can finally LIVE MY DREAM and send the chestnuts to go watch the stupid nutty professor so allison can have her restrained ‘oh shit’ panic moment while trying to recover from an accidental eddy murphy reference. i’m looking forward to it but like. america sucks, you guys.
#i can't believe one half-assed nutty professor joke is responsible for this whole thing#it's not even that good of a joke#tua#tua fic#my fic#nothing up my sleeve#nothing up my sleeve research#segregation#racism#drive-ins#movie theaters#raymond chestnut#allison hargreeves
7 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
tiny-golems
Tiny Golems
hiwelcometothemonstersancturary
a sanctuary for monsters🍉
ayurvedhomeremediesindia
Ayurvedhomeremedies.com
hart-hotart
You’re Hot…😇
ilovemarblehorntes13
Zane