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demonslayedher · 2 years

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In Kimetsu Gakuen, is there any basis as to why each Hashira teaches their respective class? Like why Giyu is the PE teacher, while Rengoku is the history teacher, and Sanemi is the math teacher.

Rather than linking their respective subjects to skills or passions they show in the series, I think some of it may had been chosen based on what feels applicable, or in the reverse, a role needed to be filled and someone was chosen. Honestly I need to go to bed soon so instead of looking up every Kimetsu Gakuen role, let's see how far my brain cells dedicated to remembering KnY trivia takes me~~ (ﾉ´ω`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ (Throw things at me if I'm wrong. Soft things, please.)

Rengoku-san: A good! History! Teacher!! Takes!! PASSION!!!!!! And he's a very successful teacher because he's so passionate about!! History!!! Glorious!! Battles! Worth! Reenacting! In canon, when he info dumps at Tanjiro about the origins of different Breaths, this makes me think he does take a keen interest in the Demon Slayer's proud history. With how well the Rengoku-clan retains their ancestors' teachings and writings (Rengoku-san has studied the sword manuals, but does not seem to have read the diary Shinjuro was always mulling over), I think it may have been instilled in him from a young age.

Giyuu: He's not necessarily more physically fit or a better trainer than other Pillar characters, I think this is just playing on a subtle stereotype that gym teachers can be overly harsh and aren't always liked because of that. (Very wide generalization, I don't feel it's that strong of a stereotype.)

Sanemi: Besides there being no reason to think he wouldn't be good at math, I think this stems more from the school setting conflict it creates between him and Genya. Without the tension of Genya's life on the line and Sanemi belittling him to try to make him quit the Corp, you can get the same gut-wrenching tension from an impatient mathy parents or older sibling doing their best to help a kid with math anxiety. It often just makes everyone feel horrible.

Kanae as the biology teacher: The chemistry teacher role was taken by Iguro because he looks good in a lab coat. Kanae's parents were pharmacists so she's got the health-oriented science background. Plus, biology includes botany. Do not know where the use of magic talismans came from, but I am all for it. Shinobu as a student: I keep forgetting how young she is. Let her be a teacher. Let her try to be hiding her age all the time and letting people assume she's older.

Mitsuri: Again, for age reasons, she gets to be a college student. It's funny that in this AU she's Tengen's protege instead of Rengoku's. Tengen: Art? Not music? Okay, sure, fine, Kyogai took that role and I am totally fine with this because I love Kyogai. Tengen works well with something self-expressive. I find his hoodie look hilarious. Himejima: Home room teacher, and... uh... what he anything else??? Anyway, yes, put him in a position to be a primary caretaker for a big group of needy children. Tokito Twins: Shogi champs. Yes. Excellent. Geniuses. Let them be geniuses as something war-inspired. Rock Band Brother Sister Duo Gyutaro & Daki: The modern music scene is full of unsightly stuff they'd have encountered in their upbringing, which makes people in that world seem a little scary if you're looking in from the outside, but there's still a glamorous side to it that people admire Kamado family: carefully tending the natural ingredients, tending the fire, making sure to warm the community with a daily necessity. BREAD. Go ahead, Haganezuka, give him a bread-themed sword. And Nezuko's French Bread spin on the classic shoujo-heroine-who-slept-in-and-goes-to-school-with-bread-in-her-mouth trope? Yes, excellent, love it, you keep it up, girl.

Inosuke, raised by boars, old lady foster mother who pretends everything is fine. Inosuke needs these good calm old-people influences in his life. Really sad that Kotoha and Tanjuro are still dead in an otherwise happy AU. Glad that Hisa seems to enjoy having him around despite all the media attention. It's fun to see so much of Inosuke's wild expressions instead of having them be covered by the boar head.

Zenitsu: I think this role was written for him purely for the sake of writing jokes at his expense. I haven't been following the new/extra Kimetsu Gakuen content because I don't think most of the jokes about him being his worst are funny, but I do find his failures when he's actually trying to do his job quite hilarious. He's like the straight man in a circus. A circus of caffeinated monkeys.

Girls: Flower arranging. Are they all in flower arranging? At least Kanao is. I like the illustration of her arranging a fall display for the harvest moon, but that illustration came out long after she appeared in the Kimetsu Gakuen AU. This therefore does not answer Anon's original question whatsoever. I've taken Anon's initial question and slapped my fingers across the keyboard to run away with it. /I/ am the caffeinated monkey around here.

Ozaki-san plays spots, doesn't she? Good for her. A good healthy hobby for a good alive background character. Good for you, Ozaki. May you never ever ever need to touch a sword in this happy as ever AU. Murata, I'm sorry you're not popular. That must feel just as bad in a school setting as being only okay with a sword must feel in a life-or-death setting. Susa Maru-chan, focus your energy on spots. That is a constructive use of your bent up energy. I'll bet she'd be gotten an ADHD diagnosis when she was little. Yahaba and tofu, right? Ok. I like tofu. Point the way, Yahaba, I shall try your family's tofu. To-fu-to-fu-to-fu-to-fu--IS TOFU GONNA BE ON MY NERD TEST!!!??? OH MY GOODNESS, IT REALLY MIGHT, SUDDENLY I MUST KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YUDOFU AND YUBA, time to make like the walls of an art room and explode my way outta here

#KnY silliness #if this even fits that tag #Kimetsu Gakuen #do I even have that tag?

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cc-tinslebee · 3 years

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Okay, so, about a month ago, my brain just conjured up probably the most random au possible: Legally Blonde Adam Banks/banksway au.

Believe me, it's as chaotic as it sounds, but lowkey, I'm kind of in love with it.

Adam never joins the Ducks because there aren't any Ducks to join. Bombay never had to do community service with District Five so there was no one to realise that Adam was on the wrong team all along. He continues to play for the Hawks and, eventually, the Eden Hall Warriors, never getting the chance to become the well-rounded individual we know him as because he's never known anything other than his rich privilege and the "win at all costs" mentality. He ends up going to college on a hockey scholarship and not straight to the NHL or the AHL (shocking, I know). While he's unsure of his major and where his life is heading, he finds solace in the fraternity he joins, which, by some sheer twist of fate, Jesse and Guy have also miraculously joined.

And his life is perfect for a while. He's the star player on yet another school's hockey team, all of his fraternity brothers adore him (though, it took a bit for Jesse to warm up to him), and his secret, not-really-official thing with his former teammate is going swimmingly. (Not to slander my boy, but I was picturing Larson for the role of Warner, purely because the alternative seems to be Rick Riley and that's kind of an unsettling image-- though, maybe that's the point?)

But then his secret boyfriend breaks up with him because, with his high aspirations in life, he needs to be "more serious." And dating Adam Banks, a guy in a stereotypical fraternity who only really knows hockey, in 2001 isn't exactly the white-picket-fence life he's looking for if he's going to be a politician.

And since this non-Duck Adam clearly doesn't have the braincells that canon Adam does, in his devastation, he decides it's a brilliant idea to prove that he is serious by applying to Harvard Law. His parents try to talk him out of it, since they want him to pursue his dreams of hockey, but being a lawyer is a respectable career so they can't exactly argue with him.

He gets accepted thanks to Jesse, Guy, and the rest of his fraternity helping him study for the LSAT and keeping him on track. He's trying his darndest when he gets to Harvard, but (despite his struggle not being as significant as Elle Woods'), not a lot of people take him seriously as an aspiring lawyer, considering him a meathead jock who only got in because of daddy's money.

And that's about the time he meets Linda, who he vaguely remembers from his time at Eden Hall. What he doesn't remember is her being so competitive, because she's deliberately beating him at every turn, just trying (and kind of succeeding) at making him look like a fool. To make matters worse, all of the sudden, she's engaged to his ex-boyfriend, who is very adamant about never telling anyone that he and Adam were more than friends (because, you know, early 2000s homophobia and such).

But things get a little brighter for Adam when he meets Charlie, an undergrad teacher's assistant who gives him all sorts of advice about surviving the school. He introduces him to Professor Bombay, who Charlie claims is the only reason he survived his first year and quickly becomes Adam's favourite teacher, and Charlie's childhood friend Connie, who aspires to be a state senator one day. Charlie's charismatic and even if he's not the most well-liked person at Harvard, Adam feels a weight lifted off his shoulders once he becomes friends with him and Connie. Things become a little easier.

Just before he and Charlie start getting really close, Adam meets Casey at a local diner on a day he's feeling particularly upset and alone, and the two start bonding almost immediately. (He bullshits his way into scaring an ex-husband of hers with legal repercussions he has no idea about and she basically adopts him in return.) It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to realise that it's not just a coincidence that Casey and Charlie share the same last name, which results in poor Adam feeling extremely embarrassed for not connecting the dots sooner while Charlie's having the time of his life teasing him for it. Eventually, when the dust of that settles, Charlie and Adam join forces to set Casey and Bombay up, their schemes borderline ridiculous at times, but they'rere not exactly failing.

And after realising he isn't the Warriors moron she thought he was for going on five years, Linda starts warming up to Adam, which is surprisingly nice? She figures out on her own that there used to be something between him and her fiancé, and is more understanding of Adam than she is mad. Linda actually spills to him the lengths Adam's ex had to go through to actually get into Harvard, aligning more with the rumours about Adam's acceptance being bought than having the aptitude for the law that Linda and Adam share. (This may be me saying Linda and Adam friendship rights, what of it-- /lh)

To make things all the better, Bombay chooses Adam, Linda, Connie, Charlie, and Adam's ex to be on his legal team for a murder case he's responsible for (and while he knows about Adam and Charlie's ploys to hook him up with Charlie's mom, they're his favourites, so he doesn't say anything).

And this is just so much better than anything he had before. After all the initial unpleasantness, Linda and Connie become some of the most genuine friends he's ever had. He misses Guy and Jesse, of course, and he'd never take them for granted, but back when he was with them at the fraternity, a part of him was still being as superficial as he had been in middle and high school. Being authentic for once in his life is liberating.

And Charlie's just about the most considerate person Adam's ever met. Adam doesn't even mind when Charlie teases him over his absurd and juvenile insults because he's just this source of light for Adam, supporting him and always pushing him to be the best version of himself. His ex hardly even exists when Charlie's around because his energy is just so contagious that Adam starts falling for him long before he even realises it. (And when Jesse and Guy come to visit, there's a moment where it all clicks and the four of them realise their history together, however brief. I strongly maintain that they'd be that Starkid meme: "Fucking Hawks? We hated you guys!" "We hated ourselves!" But it does make Adam realise how much better off he would've been if he had Charlie and his team when he was little instead of the Hawks, and it just further makes him understand that people like Larson and Rick Riley just aren't worth it.)

But there's also another revelation Adam goes through. Between helping Casey, his rigorous studies, and his position working with/for Bombay, something just clicks for Adam. He likes being able to help people, fighting for the good guys who may not have the resources they need to be properly defended. Practicing law calls to him in the same way hockey did; it's the feeling of knowing this is what he's meant to do. He still loves hockey, he always will, but it helps him finally grasp that there's a world for him outside of it; when hockey ends for him, there's something equally as rewarding that he can pursue, which was something he never thought he would have.

I haven't a single coherent thought about this au past that point except for these little inklings of an ending--

There's absolutely no SA scene like the movie had; Bombay's just Adam and Charlie's favourite teacher and those are his boys, so he's going to make sure they succeed as if his life depends on it.

With that said, Bombay believes in them both enough to let them finish the case because with their joined determination/stubbornness (and Adam's in with the defendant), Adam and Charlie are a force to be reckoned with and he knows it.

After a handful of comedic failures, they do end up succeeding at their attempts to set Casey and Bombay up, and they start living together sometime during the kids' Junior year :) (All I'm asking is for one (1) story with a Casey/Gordon endgame-- I just think they're neat--)

Linda dumps her fiancé (as she should) and goes on to live her best wlw life as a successful lawyer. (If I'm not mistaken, Linda's actress actually is a lawyer, which is a pretty cool fun fact!!)

Adam and Linda's ex gets the Warner ending because, man, screw that guy /lh (rip to Larson if this is him, I'm sure you'll get a nice endgame in some other universe, king)

Honorary mention for Connie, who was going long distance with Guy this entire time to everyone but Jesse's shock, and they get their Game Changers endgame of State Senator Connie Moreau and stay-at-home dad Guy Germaine with their seven -- sorry, three -- children :)

Adam's an absolute bundle of nerves after graduation, which definitely concerns Charlie. So, when he asks if he's okay, Adam starts nervously monologuing about their time together until he runs out of breath. He ends it by proposing to him, and Charlie smiles so surely at him when he says yes. They both become damn good public defenders and stay engaged until the point they can legally get married, but they're practically husbands long before that happens.

Also, if I did my math right (which I should’ve, it’s my entire basis for my Share Your Address series), the Ducks’ would have the same graduating class year as Elle Woods anyway (2004), which is pretty neat!

Thank you once again for listening to me ramble :)

#i just think they're neat that's all--#full disclosure: i have not listened to/seen the musical yet but I have heard very good things about it #adam banks #charlie conway #gordon bombay #linda the mighty ducks #connie moreau #banksway #charlie x adam #the mighty ducks #casey x gordon

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noritoshiikamo · 3 years

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this is how you fall in love

pairing: kuroo tetsuroo + fem!oc genre: friends into lovers fluff with slight suggestive end tags//warning: nothing major // slight suggestive at the end if you squint enough note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. o wow look ive been posting back to back, ive been writing nonstop lately watch me ghost my stories in few weeks guys my brain = rotting, plus lately ive been feeling emotionally abuseddrained so i need something fluffy

listen to this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker + chelsea cutler for maximum feels

“you’re a lifesaver.”

kuroo huffed, eyes rolling back with a small laugh as he unlaced his sneakers and slipped the room slipper on. it was odd to see the gymnasium without any nets or balls sprawled around. the gym has been closed for a week now in preparation for the upcoming open school event and currently under the art club’s jurisdiction. under her jurisdiction with her canvases and paints and it pained him to see her ruining his sacred place. he carried two plastic bags and holding two boba teas in the same hand. he wasn’t sure which one she was more excited for; the boba, the paints she made him ran to an art supply shop or him. she reached out, the bobas in his hand exchanged as she settled it on the floor, and she squealed at the sight of the plastic bag. he frowned.

yup, not him.

tins of different colors of paint that she ran out mid painting that she forgot to buy had her dialing his number and now it’s all here. all thanks to kuroo tetsuro. she grimaced at the price tags; it was costly than her usual one. usually, she would’ve gotten her supplies online, but desperate measure calls for desperate solution. she could always claim her expenses with the club. typical kuroo, she huffed. he always preached about getting the best, not minding the price tags but she’ll be the victim of his nonstop complaining that he’s getting broke every single day. she tucked a stray hair back and mentally counted how much she owed the man as she arranged the tins on the table.

kuroo noticed that look; same look she had when they are in the math class and he clicked his tongue, “tch, you’re not paying.”

“i’m reimbursing you with the club money,” she shook her head and reached for her bag, “please kuroo, it’s so expensive.”

he reached for her wrist and she dropped the tote bag as he invaded her space. kuroo rested the palm of her hand right above his heart, his own around the waist and another under her chin as he tilted her chin up. his heartbeat was erratic, and she flushed. “it’s okay,” he said, softly. her lips formed into a small pout and he fought the urge to just kiss her.

their dynamic is something even kenma couldn’t figure it out.

they weren’t exactly dating. they are friends, close friends, and classmates. it has always been him, her and occasionally yaku; creating the chaotic duo/trio of class 5. they both played volleyballs, both captains while he’s the middle blocker, she’s their female team’s setter. they knew a lot of each other’s friends from other schools; he was the reason why she dated akaashi keiji from the first place. it was selfish of kuroo to admit to bokuto a month after they started dating that he disliked the idea of them together. typical kuroo is no longer snarky, he felt lost, felt like he was losing his other half. so, he confided to his close friend, the simpleton ace.

“you didn’t make any moves, kuroo, you can’t blame them.”

bokuto noted as them both stared at the two setters, playing around the fallen cherry blossoms. bokuto never seen akaashi smiled that much and kuroo could only wished that she smiled the same way to him. kuroo stared at the half bitten onigiri he’d been holding, suddenly every bite he took tasted bitter. every trace of akaashi on her gave him bitter taste. she liked wearing akaashi’s jersey; kuroo longed to see her in his own numbered jersey; she’s his number one after all. her own jersey number is as same as akaashi. it’s not like kuroo could hate anything he did; he treated her well. akaashi was a perfect boyfriend and everyone knew. that’s why kuroo hates him; he gave him no reason to hate the dude. it didn’t last long however, they drifted apart 6 months later, sending her to kuroo’s doorstep soaked in rain.

he stared at her soaked figure with no thoughts in mind.

“he dumped me,” she said, voice hoarse and shivering.

he was alone and was about to leave for kenma’s, but he couldn’t leave her alone. dropping his keys on the small table by the door, he threw his jacket back in the closet. “come in,” he whispered, pulling her figure in. dropping her bag on the floor, she clutched on his sleeves as she kicked off her soaking shoes. “i’m sorry, my mom isn’t home and i can’t find my keys,” she was a blabbering mess and he hushed her. he left her for a few minutes, coming back with a steaming towel and a clean shirt and pants. “it’s from the dryer. you can borrow my sister’s clothes,” grabbing her hands, they ran upstairs where he took her to the bathroom. she was too quiet, so he called her name. when she looked up to him, her eyes were red. she was no longer crying, more confused and upset. her cheeks flushed and he could see her teeth chattering. he wished nothing but to throw his fist at the man. finally, he got a reason to square up the stoic man; he always hates the way nothing could riled up akaashi.

“he’s stupid for doing you like this.”

she shook her head, “it’s nobody’s fault.”

“then stop blaming yourself,” he ruffled her hair, a small smile appeared from the corner of her lips as she watched him disappeared closing the door behind him. he left her with the hot water running, urgently grabbing the mop and bucket from the kitchen, and wiping the trail of her soaked feet has left before it could ruin the wooden floor.

cant come over, busy, ill tell u later

kuroo texted kenma. the pudding head left him on read.

they spend the night together, sitting on the floor with pillows pilling against the end of the bed as they sat in arms. he had his tv opened to one of the late-night game show. they sat in silence, her head rested on his shoulder and her lips pressed into a tiny line. at the corner of his eyes, he could see her phone’s notifications blaring despite being on mute. the number isn’t saved but it was familiar. she deleted his number already, probably out of rage, but it’s a good step.

tell me where you want me to drop your stuff im sorry i hope youre okay y/n? i heard it was storming did you make it back home? give me a call im calling you okay?

just as like what the message stated, the unknown number called her. it startled her which startled him too. she stared down on the screen, he noticed the grip on the phone and wondered how the phone did not break yet. “can you answer it for me?” she said, holding the phone out to the black-haired man. shocked, he took the phone and pressed the green button. he pressed the phone to his ear and heard her name being called.

“hey man,” kuroo cleared his throat, “listen-”

“she’s with you?” the voice- akaashi asked.

looking down on the girl who was pretending to not have any interest in the call at all, eyes focused on the gameshow, kuroo sighed.

“she is. listen, i think you should leave her alone.”

“kuroo, i know about your feelings. for her. bokuto-san told me about it. if you think that this is the proper way to get her when she’s vulne-”

kuroo bit the inside of his cheeks. he was offended that akaashi dared to call him out like that. “so, what? she made her pick,” the girl turned to face him, brows up wondering what they are talking about.

“that’s low, even for you, kuroo-san.”

their eyes met. he didn’t even realize how deep the cut on his palm where he had balled his fingers into a fist until she touched it. he calmed down. “you hurt her. you have no right to say what’s low or not. be a bigger man, leave her alone,” he muttered flatly, before ending the call. they didn’t break eye contact until he realized what he had done.

“i-i shouldn’t have done that.”

she shook her head, “stop blaming yourself,” a small smile on her face.

that was 3 months ago.

kuroo had made moving on easy for her. akaashi and her remained friendly, although kuroo noticed that she tended to avoid him when possible. the breakup was indeed mutual, but merely on the fact that he lost feelings. akaashi had fallen out of love with her and in love with some other girl but who was she to judge when she was falling in love with the rooster head in silence. they still hang out with bokuto and akaashi but rarely with the latter.

she made him apologized to the fukurodani’s setter too and they remained on friendly term, still practiced together whenever they have training camps together where akaashi had admitted one training night that kuroo and her looks better together. kuroo didn’t say anything, not that he knew what to reply to that (his mind scream fuck yeah we do) but shrugged at his statement. “i guess dating her made you less pain in the ass, kuroo-san,” akaashi joked as they resumed the game.

kuroo was pulled back to reality when he felt his lips brushed against something. his eyes widened when he realized what it was. a quick kiss from her. he blinked frantically, trying to comprehend what had just happened which caused the girl to laugh. “did you just?” he asked confused by what had just happened which she nodded. she bit her bottom lip to hold herself from bursting into a laugh. “god, you should see your face. it’s so stupid. and every girl called you the playboy captain huh?”

he huffed and rolled his eyes, “i am not. i’ve been loyal to one girl for many years now, she is the one who hasn’t notice me at all,” he faked his pout, refused to look her directly in the eyes, praying that she wouldn’t notice his reddening cheeks.

“she must’ve been so stupid,” she teased, her nose rubbing gently against his jawline as she rested her figure against his closer. his chin rested against her head.

“she is,” he looked down on her, his arms around her waist tighter, “i don’t think she knows this but if she leaves me, i think i’ll be so broken inside. is it selfish to say that?” a small frown appeared on her face.

“i don’t think she ever talked about leaving you.”

a grin grew on his face, “so you know who i’m talking about huh?” she fell into his trap. she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out, calling him stupid. he studied her face, his grin softened into what yaku and his volleyball team called the kuroo is stupidly in love with y/n but refused to admit face. his fingers ran into her hair which she had been growing out in few months down to her shoulder because she thinks that he likes her better that way. the way she tried to subtly put on make up to look better that the other girls who’s shamelessly flirting with him. she was too stupid to realize that he had loved her beyond that.

he loves the rough pads on her hands from holding her paintbrushes and volleyball. he loves that she works hard for everything she’s doing be it studying, volleyball or arts, she would put her blood, sweat and tears into it. he loves that she would wait for him to buy lunch so they can eat together in class. he would buy her a box of milk which she insisted that she doesn’t need too; but he convinced it would be good for her. he wants the best for her.

he loves that all the missing clothes he’s complaining about is in the back of her closet or on her. his cream hoodie hanging behind her closet door, his random pile of t-shirts in a basket on the floor of her closet that he liked to left beside the mix pile of her shoes and his one big ass nike shoes. her room isn’t messy, it is because she kept the messiness in her closet. she also like to keep random stuff of him too. the one medal he won from a science fair hung on the headboard of her bed, the misshapen looking hand wax sculpture of their hands intertwined from a funfair where she rested a purikura of them on it and a lucky bamboo plant he gave on her birthday to compromise on the no gift rule.

“for luck,” he grinned.

unlike hers, he kept her item neatly in his drawer. your spare shirts that he borrowed and refused to return, extra towel and her toiletries, some of her drawing blocks and a small cat shaped pouch where she kept her allergies medication. mostly hidden because his annoying friends come over often and would accidentally talk about it in front of his grandparents. but, on his bedside table, he has a cup of pencils by the bed where he collected the art supplies she left behind, random markers and paintbrushes, a clay sculpture of a trinket plate she made from art club (she carved a tiny letter k in the corner beside the obvious looking genitalia drawing) and a fake plant which she was sure he will not be able to kill it.

he loves it when she wore his jersey. he lost his mind when he found out that her current season number is the same as his. he’s in love. the first time he saw her in his jersey, the number one jersey on her body was during their training. he lost concentration; mouth hung a bit. he got so flustered that he let lev served the ball straight to his head. usually, lev would be dead by now, but he doesn’t mind. his nose bled but to see her kneel beside him, clutching on his own shirt screaming how stupid he is, wiping the blood away with towel, he could only say how pretty she looked. all his teammates were startled, her included. she clutched on his collar angrily; her knees stung from when she leaped down to his side, but this idiot could only smile at her with a bloody nose. “you are fucking idiot,” she cried out angrily, pushing him away before throwing the towel on his face leaving the pleased third year laying on the floor.

he loves the way she would find a way to impress him, be it as ridiculous as the halloween costume idea she had where they’ll go as the front and end of a horse or as serious as the submitted college application to the same university he had gotten into. “you are not getting rid of me that easily, tetsu,” the evil look on her face as she clicked the submit button send shivers down his spine.

“if you leave, i think i’ll cry,” he confessed, his smile slowly died.

“kuroo tetsuro is going to cry after me?” she teased. he nodded eagerly. “does kuroo tetsuro realized that we are literally moving into the same university? i couldn’t catch a break from him,” she faked her annoyance which he playfully avenged by sending her on the floor laughing as he tickled her. tears trickled down her cheeks as she begged him to stop, screaming to get away from his grip. “please, kuroo, i’m going to pee if you don’t stop!” he obliged, tears prickled the corner of his own eyes from laughing too much. straddling her waist, he gathered her wrists in one hand over her head. “apologize and said that kuroo tetsuro is the best man in your life or i swear i’ll make you pee,” he threatened her playfully, wiggling the fingers of his free hand close to her waist. her eyes widened in fears.

“that’s not fair!”

“apologize first.”

“fine!” she pouted, “i’m sorry, i won’t make fun of you again. now get off me!”

he raised his eyebrow, “andddd?”

“annddd-” a teasing smile appeared on her face as she said the next 5 words that send him to mars and back; “i love you kuroo tetsuro.”

he froze in shock. he heard the words before but never in this way; never for him.

finally, i think i got the calculation, love you yaku! lev you’re adorable but so stupid, i love it! thank you for letting me borrow your game, kenma. you’re the best, love ya!

the grip on her wrists loosened. taking advantage of his shock state, she pushed him back, straddling him by the waist, pinning his own hands above his head, giving him the taste of his own medicine. “i’m not going to leave your sorry ass, tetsu. i hope you don’t regret it,” she leaned down, capturing his lips with a longer kiss. letting go of his wrist, her hand went immediately into his rooster hair while another cupped his cheek, deepening their kiss. she could feel his cold palm resting against her bare waist and she shuddered. between the kisses, he heard her whispering his name. “kuroo, do you love me too?” she asked so innocently with kisses between the words but the way she grabbed a handful of his hand in a fist felt so dirty, eliciting a strangled moan from the back of his throat. she pulled back, staring down on his eyes as his lips moved.

“i love you too.”

nothing in his hazel eye but sincerity. he groaned when she pulled herself out of his reach, missing her warm body as she laughed. straightening her sweater back, pulling her hair back up into a tighter ponytail before she picked up the paintbrush she dropped. the paintbrush left a white stain on the court. as if kuroo wasn’t here, whimpering underneath her a minute ago, she continued her work. “i need to finish the mural by this week and you’re not exactly helping me,” she warned him, pointing the wet brush his direction. through the corner of her eyes, he was propped on his elbows, still staring at her, causing her to blush profusely. it annoyed him that she would tease him, then leaving him high and dry. before she could crack open the new paint tin, he ignored her warning as he tackled her back into his arms.

breathless against her lips, he told her to continue later. the urgency and rawness of his voice made her putty immediately. looking up the man, she pouted her lips.

“kuroo-san,” she whined as he captured her bottom lips.

he elicited a soft moan from the girl. he grinned against her lips. a hand rested firmly beside her head while another snaked under the sweater. there will be bruise tomorrow, she was sure of it, he will make sure of it.

“it will be quick, baby. i promise.”

she has no objection.

#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro fluff #haikyuu x y/n #kuroo tetsurou x reader #writing: hq #writing: fics

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urmomsmainbitch · 3 years

Text

american idiot - chapter one

link to wattpad story // link to series masterlist // link to writing

word count: 2.7k

warnings: the bowers gang, weapons, violence, basically the whole thing (if you're not comfortable with violence or abuse -- which henry faces during the movies and during the book -- then i recommend you don't read, but i'll try to tag appropriately!)

a/n: i hope you don't think it's ass but this is probably going to come out every other friday or so but this is more of a trailer than the start of the actual series

HENRY DIDN'T REMEMBER a better time in his life than when he heard the news that Tommy 'Gun' Lee was coming back to Derry for the summer. To him, nothing topped the moment where is dad was slurring over his dinner (leftover hot dogs -- again), and let it slip that the "ungrateful little bitch" was coming back for a few months over the summer, and that "your whore of a mother" didn't mention if she was staying for the year or not.

He remembered huffing and puffing, grumbling something under his breath before excusing himself, and running to call Patrick like it was fucking Christmas morning.

Something about his darling little sister coming back made his heart race and a smile light up his face, and it was evident from the way he stepped into Derry Middle on the last day of school.

Oh, this summer would be perfect! His deal with Denbrough was over, the gang was all together, and his perfect sister was coming back from San Diego for the summer. Tommy Lee Bowers, he knew, would make this the best summer he;d ever had -- and by fucking God, he wasn't going to let anything stand in his way. Not that stuttering freak or the stupid Tozier kid who's mouth ran a mile a minute or his father's thriving alcohol addiction -- absolutely nothing.

His Tommy Gun would rule that fucking school the second she stepped in to pick him up, and every one knew it.

Word travels fast at Derry Middle, and when it got around that Bowers had a little sister coming, the first thing Bill Denbrough did was panic.

She couldn't be too different, could she?

The same blood ran through their veins, the same color skin on their bones, and most likely, the permanently upturned smirk tattooed to their lips. His hopes didn't improve when he saw the girl himself, waiting outside on the hood of Butch's car, throwing rocks at little kids passing by as she sat patiently for Henry to come outside.

He'd promised her a tour of the school -- it's only fair, he put it, that a queen knows her kingdom before taking it over. Henry had no doubt that Tommy would run the school when it was her time in September. A grade below Tits and the rest of his ugly friends, it would be more embarrassing than anything else to watch them suffer socially at the hands of a twelve year old girl.

(Henry very much looked forward to that moment. So much so, in fact, that he near goddamn skipped his way to the front of the school to open the door so they could start the tour. It helped that he was getting out of math class.)

It was only in the few moments before she walked in the door (immediately claiming the whole goddamn building with a footstep) that Bowers caught him by the bag and dragged him into the bathroom, away from the rest of the kids, and most likely, where he'd lay dying for the rest of the school day and foreseeable future (Stanley refused to shit in the school bathrooms, and seeing as he was the only one on this side of the building, he was screwed.).

Bill had never liked being alone with Henry Bowers. Nothing good ever came out of it, and he didn't want to stick around this time to find out why he'd been pulled into a bathroom and away from the rest of the student population. Henry let go of Bill's bag, letting him stumble around for a second or two before straightening up and backing him up against the wall.

"W-what d-d-do you w-want, B-Bowers?" Bill nearly spat, looking the older boy in the eyes. Henry's permanent smirk seemed to grow a few inches on either side, because he just chuckled softly -- albeit cruelly -- and looked down at the Denbrough boy. Bill could smell his breath, even though the two weren't standing particularly close to one another.

"Well, B-b-billy," he mocked, nearly laughing as he relaxed his posture a little bit and backed away from him. (Any one is passing who didn't know them might have said, "Hey, I bet those two boys are damn good friends.") "I have some news for you and your group of stupid fucking friends, and let me tell you" -- Henry stopped to laugh for a second, like he was cracking himself up -- "it's going to make your life a living hell."

Bill gulped. He didn't think, realistically, it could get much worse.

"You got a free ride this year because of your little brother," Henry reminded, smiling a little bit, seeming genuine. "But the ride's over Denbrough. This summer is going to be the worst summer of your entire life."

(Bill didn't expect him to say anything else -- but honestly, every summer was the worst summer of his entire life. He didn't catch a break from the older boy and his group of goons, but there was a feeling down in the pits of his stomach that told him that this time, this time, for real, was going to be the worst summer vacation he's ever going to have as long as he lives.)

"But I do have a little piece of extra advice I'm gonna give you."

Bill huffed. "You're so generous," he started, rolling his eyes, as he tried to walk out of the bathroom. Henry grabbed onto his backpack, "but I think I'll have to pass with this one."

He was cut off as Bowers kicked him on shin and onto the cold bathroom tiles. So much for being brave.

"I think you might want to hear this." Henry squatted down to look Bill in the eyes. There was still a hint of a smile on his face. Boy, this is gonna be good. "If you think I'm a pain in your ass--"

"I d-do think you're a p-pain in m-my a-ass."

Henry paused for a second, sending a menacing smile, and pushed him back on the ground as he got up and stepped over the boy on the floor, before beginning to make his way out of the bathroom before looking back, before lending Bill a hand to get up. He hesitantly took it and brushed off his pants, lips pressed tightly together as he looked at Henry. "Then you're gonna hate the girl sitting on Belch's car."

"Why's that?" Bill asked, feigning confidence, already knowing the answer. Henry could tell, just exhaling and giving him a big mischievous smile, hands behind his back.

"Not important, but she's not gonna be as nice as I am," he said with a grin, "but I'm just looking out for you, Billy Boy. Wouldn't want Tommy Gun to whip your ass without some working, right?"

With that, Henry left the bathroom, a smile plastered on his face as he went to greet his sister, and Bill raced out of there like his ass was on fire -- warning Richie not to talk to or about the pretty girl sitting on Belch's car.

-- -- --

"Best feeling ever!" Stan groaned, grinning ear to ear as he dumped out everything from his backpack. School had finally let out for the summer — no more stupid math classes or dumb reading assignments and annoying history tests, just Stanley and his bird book for three whole months.

A piece of his own personal heaven. Points if the pretty girl on Belch's hood was with him but hey, he wasn't picky.

"Really?" Richie asked with a grin on his face, "Try tickling your pickle for the first time." Eddie rolled his eyes, but Bill smiled. Stan let out another groan -- not a good one, this time -- even though, if he had to be honest, this seemed like it would be the best summer of his whole entire life.

Richie felt it too, if he were going to tell the truth (as he so rarely did -- or at times, so bluntly did), that this felt like it was going to the be the absolutely best summer he would have for the rest of his life. He had a whole checklist and everything for things he wanted to do (kiss some girls), things he wanted to see (some girls' boobs), and things he wanted to experience (there were a number of interesting things on this list).

And quite frankly, he felt as though every single thing on every one of his lists could be accomplished with the girl sitting on Belch Huggins' car hood, smiling mischievously as she watched the kids coming out of school.

God, did she really and truly look like an angel. Deep brown hair, straight in some parts and wavy in others, came down a little bit past her collarbone (not super cared for, but neither was his), cherry red lips, and a cute line of freckles going across the bridge of her nose. She was the most impressive tan he'd ever seen in his whole life, a very deep beige from the summer sun — even though it was only June.

The top part was being held up by some clip, and Richie could see his own Hawaiian shirt going over her tank top instead of the open button down she was wearing on top. It was lazy looking and careless and little bit disheveled, but that day, Richard Wentworth Tozier II was convinced he saw the hottest girl to ever be created.

Eddie interrupted his dream, snapping him back for only a second. "So what do you guys want to do tomorrow?"

"I start my training," Richie responded immediately.

"Training for what?"

"Street Fighter."

"You're going to spend your whole summer inside of an arcade?" Eddie couldn't imagine that prospect, but with Richie, anything was possibly -- no matter how disgusting it might seem.

"Beats spending it inside of your mother, oh!" Richie's goofy grin came back in an instant and leaned over for a high five from Bill when his hand was brought down by Stan. "And, 'course, my summer bucket list."

Eddie sent him a pity glance, "No girl's gonna let you fuck her this summer, Richie. If they have any brains at all, no girl is going to let you go within a ten foot radius of her without realizing what she's doing." Richie pressed his lips together. Of course Eddie would be cynical, it's just because — "and don't tell me that I think it because I just haven't hit puberty yet!"

Richie gave him a toothy grin, "Aw, shucks, Eddie Spaghetti, you know me so well. When you see a pretty girl, like say, that one over there—" he pointed discreetly towards the girl on the hood —"you'll get that feeling of butterflies in your stomach and just think, 'Wow, I've just seen an angel.' I don't mean Bowers, I just-"

"Yeah, you mean his little sister." Eddie looked up to Richie for a response, only to see him at a loss for words, jaw dropping and face paling.

For once, Richie Tozier was speechless as Eddie laughed and slapped his back as Bill mentioned something about the Barrens and Georgie and finding him — even though everybody had long accepted the fact that Georgie wasn't just missing.

It was like a switch. Everything changed in that instant. It was like she grew fangs and claws, and he watched Patrick look at her like she hung the fucking moon. It was incredibly painful, but he assumed, in a sense, they deserved each other. It took a second before he realized what this would actually mean for him: having to worry about a double in the hallways — a hot double that could potentially fool him into forgetting her Bowers-ness — and someone else to make fun of him in ways that he'd never tjough imaginable.

Sure, Bowers wasn't awfully bright, but he sure as hell was creative when it came down to it.

"Gunner!" Richie heard Bowers (the boy one) laugh as she shoved him in the side, cackling along herself, cigarette never leaving her mouth — opting just to talk out of the side of it.

Oh, so her name must have been Gunner. That's unfortunate, he thought to himself. But then again, she seems awful, so maybe she just deserves it. He smiled to himself. "Tommy Lee, we've gotta start heading out soon."

Wait, so was it Tommy Lee? Or was it Gunner? Was that just the gang's nickname for her? More importantly, if it was, why the fuck would they choose a name like Gunner for her? Nothing was settling about that fact, and although Richie wasn't typically one to spiral, it was hard to control himself.

"You didn't tell me you had friends, Henny!" Tommy exclaimed girlishly, making Patrick spit out his sofa and slam his hand on the car hood, flicking out her cigarette and letting Patrick snuff it out. She put a hand on her heart. "Oh, you've grown up so fast! I remember it was just yesterday you took a massive shit in that kids backpack and had to do forty hours of community service!"

Richie could tolerate a lot of things. One thing he couldn't tolerate though, was not being able to chime in when his story was being used and told all wrong — or mentioned without his name. Luckily, he was spared his intervention by a howling Belch Huggins.

"It was four eyes!" Huggins nearly screamed, warning a howling laugh from Tommy and shove from Victor, followed by a point led by Patrick. "Yeah, him!"

Richie could feel his face heating up, but before he could say anything, the bright blue TransAM was firing up the engine, and was getting ready to peel out of the school parking lot like a man man was driving.

Bill was the first to say anything. "Sorry about that, Rich. Bowers is a real asshole."

"So is his sister," he made out through his teeth.

Richie saw himself as a 'go with the flow' kind of guy, but goddamn it, he wasn't going to let Tommy Lee shit all over him and get away with it.

He was too stubborn, too arrogant, and too proud to let that happen, but with only a second or two of knowing she existed, he knew she was the exact same way. He could get tell it with the way she walked and talker and immediately took control of some of the scariest kids in Derry Middle.

But she wouldn't come out on top of this one.

There's no way. He refused to let it happen. Letting her win would show everyone else that he was just a loser who couldn't stand up to a girl who's was going to beat the living daylights out of him if he looked at her the wrong way.

She already had Henry and Patrick and Belch on her side — an even, if not better, match to four decently sized seventh graders. There was no excuse for them to get beat.

Grinding his teeth and tearing his eyes away from her, laughing mischievous and almost secretly as she put her cigarette out on Belch's hood as not to be noticed by he coo around the corner (Rich didn't know that the cop around the corner was her father who would beat her till she couldn't stand if he caught her smoking) he said, "So, Barrens tomorrow, right Bill?"

And right as Tommy Lee Bowers and her newfound gang pulled out of the parking lot, she and Richie Tozier locked eyes and made a silent pact — an agreement — something they both agreed on — something he'd be thinking about all night and the whole next morning:

Derry is two small for the two of us.

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

Text

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

You woke up in a sweat. Little beads dotted your upper lip and temples. The source of the heat was all around you, encompassing the space you occupied. It held you so close that you wondered in your hazy awakeness if you would ever feel the cold again. Not that you wouldn’t mind. Summer was always your favorite time of year. But right now, you could use a break from the personal space heater.

Eyes breaking open, you sucked in air at how close Minseok was. His entire outline was a blur, only his nose and mouth in sharp focus. The previous night’s events came back to you. Though still slightly hazy, you remembered falling asleep during the movie, Minseok bringing you up here, and then asking him to stay. It was quite possibly the most peaceful rest you’d had in your life.

Minseok was still asleep. His mouth was open just a bit and the slightest bit of tension in his eyebrows. Your arms were pinned between your chest and his. If you uncurled your fingers you could touch his slack jaw. Minseok’s arm was tight around your waist. He sighed happily before snuggling in closer, moving his face so it now rested in the crook of your neck. Okay, as satisfied as he was, this was now getting a bit uncomfortable for you.

“Minseok?” He didn’t move. “Minseok.” You kept squirming until he finally woke up.

At first he merely blinked away the sleep. When his eyes focused on you, they grew wide in horror. He scrambled back to give you room.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“It’s okay,” you said. The smile was nearly impossible to hold back. As you also sat up, your hand slipped under the pillow, hitting something hard. You frowned. It felt like a book. Did he like to read before he fell asleep? You pulled the book out. No.

It was your notebook of ideas.

Panic set in his eyes. “I swear I was going to give it back.”

“Where did you find it?”

“I’m the wolf you’ve been meeting in the clearing, remember? I found it the first day. I meant to give it back to you, but it would have been hard to explain, given the circumstances.”

You took a deep breath. The notebook was a reminder of all the information that had been dumped on you in the last twenty-four hours. It had been so easy to ignore the processing time your brain needed. Being in Minseok’s presence made it easy to forget a lot of things. “I, uh, I think I should go home.”

Disappointment was an understatement for Minseok’s expression. “Yeah. Right. I’ll take you back home.”

“Actually, I just need to get to my car. I parked it on one of the back roads.”

“Okay.”

He waited patiently for you to get out of the bed and put your shoes back on. He didn’t question why you’d parked out there. Simple answer was that he had made the connection to your little hike. You excused yourself to go to a bathroom, in which he pointed you towards. You didn’t have anything to brush your teeth or hair, so you settled on a splash of water to the face. Your go-to bathroom habit at this point. When you returned to the bedroom, Minseok was in fresh clothes. Keys in hand, he stepped passed you without a word. You followed him down to the first floor. Using your notebook as a shield against your chest, you tried to be as invisible to any of the others you ran into as you exited the house. Out in the garage, you got into the car that Minseok indicated.

The ride was quiet, save for the few times you gave Minseok directions to where you’d parked your car. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the glass. You were still tired and could feel a headache starting to emerge.

“Uh, (y/n)?”

“Hm? What is it?” You opened your eyes and nearly shot out of the car.

Several police cars and at least twenty civilians were all huddled around the area where your car sat. Erik was amongst them, talking to one of the officers. As soon as Minseok’s vehicle was pulled over to the side and the engine turned off, you bolted.

“Erik!”

He looked so relieved when he saw you. The officer looked shocked, then his face rested into a neutral expression. “You must be (y/n).”

You nodded. “Yes, I am. What’s going on?”

Minseok came up just then. Erik did a double take then frowned. His eyes drifted down to your hand. You were still holding on to the notebook that Erik would recognize in a heartbeat. He motioned to Minseok with his head as he asked you, “The guy from the pictures?”

Minseok looked surprised at the comment. And even a little embarrassed. But he did the gentleman thing and held out his hand. “I’m Minseok.”

Erik ignored the hand, barely glancing at it. “We were all worried about you. Do you realize what we thought when your phone was off and the cops found your car out here?”

You flinched back. “I’m sorry, I was… taking pictures. I lost track of time.”

“You lost track of time?” Erik scoffed. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Hey, back off,” Minseok growled, taking a step so he was now partially between you and Erik. “She’s a grown adult. She doesn’t have to check in with you every three hours. She can make her own decisions.”

Erik looked him up and down. “That much is apparent.”

Shaking your head, you turned to the third man in the group. “I’m sorry, officer. This was all a misunderstanding.”

“It’s alright. Just be careful next time, okay? Maybe let someone know where you are.” He looked at Erik. “We’ll call off the search party and let everyone go home.”

“Thank you,” Erik said. His tone was low and short. The officer left to scatter the rest of the people. Erik barely looked at you. “I’m glad you’re safe. Turn your phone back on.” With that, he stalked off towards his car.

Minseok scratched the back of his head as he shifted from foot to foot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“It’s fine. Really, it's my own fault.” You dug your keys out of your pocket. “I should get home.”

“I understand. Can we talk? Later?” He sounded so hopeful, so sure. But you still needed time to think. Your brain felt scrambled, pulled and stretched like taffy on a hook.

“Yeah,” you finally answered. “Later.”

He must have been hoping for a more enthusiastic response. You didn’t have the energy for that right now. “Okay. Um, okay.” That was his goodbye as he turned and headed back to his car. Did he have to look so much like a wounded puppy? You watched his car disappear down the road, a cloud of tan dust following closely behind.

You waited for everyone else to clear out before getting into your own car. For a minute or two, you sat there. It seemed so bizarre, surreal, the situation you found yourself in. And it wasn’t even the pack of humans-to-wolves that had you so disoriented. It was the fact that Erik had called the police, that a search party had been formed to find you after one night away. It was obvious that he still cared, break or not. Turning on your phone, you groaned as the notifications stacked up. Missed calls, texts in all caps, other social media contacts. You tossed the device into the passenger’s seat and drove home.

Willa was waiting for you at the dorms. As soon as you walked through the door, she pounced.

“Oh, thank god you’re okay!” When she let you go, she punched you in the shoulder.

“Ow!” You rubbed the sore spot. “Was that really necessary?”

Willa pouted. “You could have least told me that you were heading out. Might have saved us this fiasco.”

“You were asleep.” And you would have been punched anyway. Willa insisted that she had no control over her limbs in that groggy state, but you didn’t entirely believe that. “I’m fine. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Minseok’s right, I'm an adult. I don’t need babysitters.”

“Who’s Minseok?”

Oh… crap. “Um, he’s just a friend. A tutor, really.”

Willa took that pathetic explanation. Although, truthfully, that was how it all started. “Oh, did you finally decide to get help so you can finally pass math class?”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Jerk.”

“What?” Willa said innocently. “I want to see you graduate. You’ve been talking about getting your masters and I want to see you do that. Kind of need to pass your classes to get there.”

Stalking past her, you fell down on your bed, face towards the ceiling.

“Hey, you okay?” Willa asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied. “Just tired.”

“I bet, if you stayed out all night.” Willa sat down on her bed across from you. “Where were you, anyway?”

You shrugged. “Just… around. Clearing my head.”

“You were safe, at least?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good.”

Nearly a week went by. You went to class as normal. You were nearly finished with your extra credit project. Minseok had given you the perfect jumping off point and diving into the project had given you the ultimate excuse to not think about anything else. Between that and your other classes, you’d hardly had any interaction with the people close to you. Besides Willa, you’d almost completely isolated yourself. The reasoning you had given yourself was to think things through, to decide if you would turn back around and go down the other road or keep heading forward. The only problem was, you kept avoiding it.

You didn’t think about Erik or Minseok. Or, you tried not to. If little thoughts of them started to creep up, you would find something to distract yourself with. A jog, a scary movie (avoiding anything supernatural), or homework. You would immerse yourself until the thoughts went away. Avoidance might not have been a healthy coping mechanism, but it was the one you were going with.

You were currently participating in that mechanism as you lied on your bed, watching videos on the internet. It was simply you and your short laughs as you switched from clip to clip. The internet was a black hole. Once you got too close, you were sucked into a place where time no longer moved at a normal pace.

Willa walked in and dropped her bag on the floor. You barely acknowledged her long, drawn out sighs that were clearly made for attention. She sighed again. Louder, this time. When that still didn’t work, she threw her pillow at you.

You turned off the phone and finally looked at your best friend. “Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you.”

“It could have been avoided if you’d looked up from your phone the first time.”

Sitting up, you turned to her. “Okay. What can I do for you?”

She pursed her lips. “I’m hungry.” Like it had been waiting for an invitation, your own stomach growled. Willa smiled. “Sounds like you are, too!”

You laughed. “Sure, okay. Let’s go get something to eat.”

Willa hopped off the bed and switched her things from her backpack to a purse. You pulled on a pair of shoes and shoved your feet in. As the two of you headed out and towards Willa’s car, she came up with an additional idea.

“Why don’t you ask Erik to join us?”

You cringed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She sent you a look. “Why not?”

That was right. You hadn’t completely updated her on the recent events of your life. “Because… we’re on a break.”

She unlocked her car and opened the driver’s side door, but didn’t get in. Leaning against the open space, she said, “Like… a real break or a Ross and Rachel kind of break?”

You shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest.”

Willa was quiet for a second. She was looking away from you, eyebrows scrunched in thought. “Was he the one who suggested it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“I-” She clicked her tongue several times. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything because it wasn’t my place and I didn’t know what the situation was anyway. This is college, we all have to work with others and-”

“Willa, spit it out.” Your heart was picking up speed in anticipation of what secret she was about to reveal.

“I’ve seen Erik talking to some girl in the theatre department. A lot.” She threw her hands up. “Innocently, by the way. It didn’t look suspicious at all, besides the frequency. And the fact that it was just the two of them. Did I just make things worse?”

You found the corners of your lips turning up. “No, actually, I feel a lot better.”

“Really?” Willa looked taken aback. “Are you saying that… you might not be in love with Erik anymore?”

“I think we’ve grown apart,” you said.

“Maybe… because of someone else?” Willa looked at you with a cheeky smile.

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s take this one step at a time, okay? Get in. I’m hungry.”

Willa laughed softly to herself, but got behind the wheel. The two of you had dinner at the small malt shop that had been a staple in the city for decades. You munched happily on the fries and sipped on your chocolate shake with no worries whatsoever. Willa saw your sudden change in mood, but didn’t say anything, keeping the conversation on a lighter note.

Apparently, talking to someone about what was going on was, indeed, a good idea. It was natural for two people to grow apart. And you had been destined for someone else all along.

The next day, you went about your routine as normal. After your last class, you headed towards the theatre. It was hell week, as the thespians say. It meant every spare moment was spent in the theatre to get ready for opening night. Erik would be there to make sure any last touches on the set were taken care of. As you neared the building, a familiar spectacled man exited the front doors with a small group of people.

“Eric, wait.”

He stopped and waited for you to meet him. He had a tight grip on the strap of his messenger bag. The group stopped and waited, but he shooed them on.

“What is it, (y/n)?”

You folded your arms over your chest. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for this.” He looked down at the cement sidewalk, kicking an invisible object. “I guess the break will be permanent, then, huh?”

You moved your own gaze off to the side. “I… um.”

Then it hit you. Why did you have to be so scared about this? It wasn’t a permanent ending. And you were allowed to make your own choices. You shouldn’t have to beat around the bush and spare his feelings. Wouldn’t it be better just to be honest?

“You know what? Yes, it will be,” you said assertively. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but that’s life. People change, others come along. And from what I hear, you’re moving on, too.”

Erik’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know,” you said. “And neither have I. But feelings change. It's okay to follow them.” A mindset you were only now learning for yourself.

Erik adjusted the bag’s strap to sit more comfortably on his shoulder. “Maybe it’s good that it ended this way. Maybe... we could still be friends?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Arm’s length friends, anyway.

Erik looked over his shoulder at the group that was now huddled around a car. “I’ve got to go. But… thank you. For talking to me about this. I feel a lot better. I hope you do, too.”

You blinked. “Yeah, of course.”

Erik gave you one last wave before going to join the others. The sun was starting to go down, but you didn’t want to go back to the dorms just yet. You decided to head downtown, to walk around and figure out what exactly you would say to Minseok. You knew it had to be in person. Simply calling him wouldn’t be enough. You needed to see him.

Hey, so Erik and I officially broke up. And I like you. Heck, I might even be falling in love with you. I want to be your mate. Now what?

Yeah, you could be so articulate sometimes.

Night had fallen by now. The brightest stars in the sky were shining, breaking through the city lights that drowned out the others. A few people milled about. It was that lull time of night when the dinner rush was dying out and people were getting ready for their late night escapades.

“(y/n)!”

You nearly laughed out loud before turning around. It was like Fate was pulling the strings, putting you on the path that would lead you right back to him. And you couldn’t say that you were upset about it. In fact, it might be the push you needed.

“Hi, Minseok,” you said in a quiet voice as he approached. He was alone. Thank goodness. You didn’t really want to have an audience for this.

“How have you been?” He kept his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. His shoulders were tense, pushed upwards as if he were holding himself back.

“Not… too horrible,” you replied. “You?”

“Anxious.” He was honest. Too honest. Knowing that he’d been anxiously waiting for you to do what you promised, to talk to him, made you feel horrible, selfish. Might as well stop stalling and pull the bandaid off in one go.

“I, um, I talked to Erik.”

His head shot up, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “You did?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled. “We… we broke up. For good. People drift apart. And, not only did I find myself drifting away from him, but I drifted towards someone else. Someone really special, made just for me.”

A smile so wide that his gums were showing spread across his face. He took a step towards you. “Really?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Really.”

Minseok didn’t hesitate. He reached forward, cupping your face with both of his hands. Then he kissed you.

The first kiss was deep and electrifying. It was warm, soft. He took it slowly as you followed along. It was perfectly right.

He was still smiling when he pulled away. You giggled at his happiness. He took that as an invitation to pepper your lips with more short kisses. He moved to your cheeks and your nose, making sure to capture every inch of your face. You were surprised by the shower of affection, but you certainly enjoyed it. An eruption of cheers broke the sweet moment.

To your left, nearly the entire pack was clapping and cheering in jest. Junmyeon looked guilty and apologetic while Jongdae simply rolled his eyes.

“And here I thought this was going to be a private moment,” you groaned through your teeth.

“Sorry,” Minseok sighed. “Not in this family.”

You smiled at him. “I guess that’s something I’ll have to get used to.”

He leaned his forehead against your own. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #minseok x reader #kim minseok #xiumin #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #The Untamed Universe #Catching Rain

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draken-rotzi · 3 years

Text

Bug Man x Reader Part One*

Read on AO3

SO, wanted to write something of this topic bc we all need some more Musical!BJ in our lives, it’s a nice comfort ngl, I enjoyed writing it and hope you do too c:

(Got carried away so here's the first half while I edit the second one in the meantime, it takes a bit to get to the main part we all want to read forgive mE it's better in th next one believeme)

I'd love some feedback since I haven't written anything since 2019 ;v; some wordings might seem odd since my brain speaks spanish first english second

Summary; Old boring university life and a broken but hopeful heart meet the supernatural and whacky demon/ghost with the most, reader-chan needs to get out from a toxic relationship and what's a better help than a magic dead man? Cutting ties might seem easier when someone else arrives and flips your world upside down with no warning.

Mostly fluff, bits of angst l8r

Female reader, but tried to not give any other specifics to the character themselves, OCs appear

It was a fresh autumn afternoon, birds still chirped before migrating to warmer areas for the winter, the wind was cold but nice, not yet freezing but enough for people to wear light coats. You sit on a school desk, a class about taxes and fees, you drift off a bit looking at the window while half-listening.

You lived in a medium but popular city, it was a great place, with nice, kind people for the most part, huge malls, restaurants and lots of places to go out with friends or alone.

...

"Miss ___? Care to answer this equation here for the class?" The teacher asks, a tall, slender woman that radiated authority, it made some students shiver in times like this with a direct question.

"Oh? Yeah- sure miss Adams" You replied, while trying not to look confused since you just missed the topic, hopefully you remembered from the last lesson by the time you walked up to the blackboard and took the marker to write.

...

After class, you were walking with your friends to the cafeteria next to the main exit to wait for an uber to arrive; your side job as a freelance wasn't good enough yet to afford a car, but it helped pay the bills and to have enough for a bit more more than the basic needs.

Your two best friends at college were Itai and Rob. Itai was a funny dude, with a darker tone on his skin, not so tall and full of charisma. Rob was a bit more collected, but still a lot of fun to be around, being the voice of reason for you three most of the time, emphasis in most, because sometimes he got carried away too.

"Man I hate that class, I don't understand a thing! Why do we even need math?" Itai tells the group, sounding annoyed as usual, he was a simple guy, but simple guys need a degree too, to secure a better job.

"Well if you paid attention instead of eating that cold baguette in class you won't be that confused my man" Rob replies, laughing a bit at the end

"At least you weren't asked to do math in front of the class" You sigh, putting down your backpack and sitting on a table next to the building's exit, looking at your phone to know how much time was left for the driver to arrive, around 10 minutes.

"Yeah everyone felt so bad for you, but hey, if you’ll be daydreaming at least look at the front instead of the window next time, it might help you" Rob said while opening a bottle of apple juice, his favorite, he wouldn't drink any other thing, he was probably 60% apple juice after years of drinking it that often.

A few minutes passed by, the three friends chatting about the day's events, their plans for the weekend, and how to get the next assignment done. A figure appeared behind you putting a hand on your shoulders.

"Well hello ladies!" A man chirped, you turned around laughing softly

"Hey yourself!" you replied "Already off?"

"Yeah I've got the last hour free so I'm gonna head out to Kris' place, we'll play some games and work on that big project I told you the other day"

"Great, have fun! You say hi to Kris from me yeah?"

"Sure thing, see you later!" He says with a squeeze of his hand on your shoulder, then a quick pat on the head, turning around to leave.

"Bye, take care Nick!" you say as the man walks out of the cafeteria's door waving a hand.

Silence lingers for a bit until Itai breaks it

"Hey so, you're still going out with him?" He says with a crooked smile and a nervous look, Rob has a similar expression

"Yeeeah... it's been okay for some time now, you know? Hah" You look down for a second, pondering "Maybe this time is the good run?" Uncertainty fills the question, but you still smile to your friends.

Nikolas wasn't the model boyfriend, at least not for your friends; he was full of sweet words, hugs and kisses, only in private places though. When it came to the campus he treated you just like any other friend.

There was a small reason, according to him, he wanted to wait a bit more to make it public, get to know each other better, just to be certain from both sides.

That was the excuse a year ago.

It wasn't like he was out and flirting with other people, not at all, but one could expect to be treated like a love partner after so much time and moments together, you’ve gone to the movies, to dinner, to each other's houses, hell your families knew you two were dating, it just wasn't more than the bare minimum from him, seemed more like a thing someone does if they have free time, not make time for that thing, the thing being the relationship.

It seemed to be only a problem of neglect and apathy, probably, though you were so dumbly in love with him at first, you have been hoping and asking for a change since the relationship escalated to more than just holding hands and light kisses.

"I don't think anything's gonna change, he's been stalling for a whole year now" Itai mumbled, looking at Rob, he nodded in agreement

"Yeah, just dump him already, you deserve way better, you give him everything you got and he just throws the leftovers at you."

"I guess, but we're going out this weekend! You know he doesn't like going out often"

"With you" Rob adds

You hesitate a reply, it was true, most of the times you asked him to go out for a change, he was either too busy or decided to change the event the same day, turning it into a make out session in his house every time. Even though you saw each other 2 days every week, you have seen him go out with his friends more often, on actual enrichment outside activities.

"I know..." you sigh " I'll think about it, I'll try to talk with him about it next time”

Both of your friends let out a small groan of annoyance, they knew you weren't gonna do it, or that he'll just brush it off as always, between the lines of 'oh you're overreacting'

"Ah my ride's here!" You got up from the table and grabbed your backpack, tossing it over one shoulder.

"See he can't even give you a lift to your place!" Itai teased, they knew how you felt about the whole situation, but joking around sometimes made it a bit less bitter.

"Ha-ha, you know we live in opposite ends of the city! Besides none of you give me a ride either" you said while sticking a tongue out on your way outside the cafeteria

"Yeah because you live at the ends of the earth for some weird reason!" Rob joked back

Everyone said their quick goodbyes, and after a calm ride back home you remembered something just as you were locking the door, tossing your backpack into the living room’s couch you walked over to your room.

You flopped onto the bed, looking at your phone you opened some pending messages on the family group chat, apparently a distant relative of yours had died, and the family was gonna hold a small funeral tomorrow morning on the local cemetery, you didn’t enjoy those kind of events since you’d get really emotional, but since it was something really small, no more than 20 people, it was private and most likely no strangers would see you cry over someone you barely knew.

Tomorrow was saturday so it was okay to spend one free morning humoring your family.

After some mindless browsing on your phone, it was already 12:30am, you haven’t even got off your sneakers since you got home, you did a quick self-cleanup in the bathroom, tossing today’s clothes to the side to change into an oversized shirt with no pants as a makeup pijamas, it got a bit warmer in the afternoon so you wanted to enjoy wearing something light before winter fully arrived, getting under the sheets and you were out fast, maybe from all the overthinking of what’d tomorrow might bring, you’ve forgotten what are funerals like.

But there was certainly no way you’d know what would happen at all the next day

...

The event was simple, thankfully there was not much crying, seemed like everyone accepted already what had happened, some kind of illness you heard, at least they weren’t suffering anymore and they’ve come to terms with everyone close to them, that was nice you thought, it sure felt a bit heavy in there, as usual for funerals. After the ceremony, the family offered a barbeque in the departed’s honor to bright up the mood a bit; right at the cementery, maybe it was cheaper than renting a place for it.

Free tasty food was something only an idiot would decline, so you spent some time doing small talk with the relatives you knew best, but still you mostly just listened and ate in silence.

You saw a glimpse of color and movement out of the corner of your eye, since everyone was wearing dark tones it stood out, turning your head there was just an empty plastic table with some half-full plates and glasses, still, you felt a shiver up your spine, it was probably the weather.

When you looked back at your phone's clock it was already 6 pm, guess dad jokes and food made time fly, you said your goodbyes and condolences to everyone and headed out, you were still at the cemetery, so you had to call a ride back home, the driver dropped you near a convenience store just around the corner of your apartment, since you needed to buy a snack for dinner, on sundays you usually had takeout, so no need to worry much about it right now.

_______________________________________________________

“I know I didn’t imagine anything, that breather saw me at the cemetery! we even locked eyes for a second! It may work this time, just gotta get closer while they're alone”

_______________________________________________________

…

Walking down the street, humming a bit to some music and a bag of snacks in hand, dusk started to set, some stars could be seen and the sky was a beautiful fuchsia tone with oranges and purples mixed in the clouds. On instinct, you took your phone out of your jeans pocket to take a picture of the cute sky.

Just as you took a couple of pictures, to make sure at least one was good to share, something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye again

You felt a shiver like a cold wind out of nowhere, similar as to when a car drives a bit too close to someone on winter, but there was not even one driving car on the street.

"Oof, should get back now, it's getting colder" picking up the peace to get home faster-

A piece of paper slapped you in the face

“EW- wind trash” you muttered while grabbing what seemed to be a flyer, and it flew indeed.

You naturally took a closer look at it when you took it into your hands and out of your face, it was a very faded print, with an image of an… insect? man? holding a hammer over a small house and people, you chuckled, it was a funny irony cartoon, a bug crushing people.

Half of the flyer was unreadable because of some liquid or dirt, already dry but you couldn’t read what was supposed to be, written under the drawing was the end of an ad;

“Ghostly services one name away!

RESIDENTIAL - INDUSTRIAL - COMMERCIAL

Call BETELGEUSE

BETELGEUSE

BETELGEUSE!”

“Betelgeuse? ...Like that one star?” There was that shiver again, Halloween was a week ago, so this kind of paper seemed normal to be hanging around with the wind.

As you walked down the street, some lights started flickering, the cold wind seemed stronger and the sky was a deep dark purple now, strange, it was supposed to be clear dark blue by now, fall nights came quickly this time of the year, still it didn't feel like the usual night. You were just around the corner of your street when the closest light bulb exploded and zapped with a loud 'CRASH', making you stop for a second cowering from the shards

"What the-!? No one told me we'd be getting winter thunderstorms sooner what the eff" muttering swears you made a run to your apartment, scurrying for the door keys in the process, lights kept flashing and the wind made windows sing a high 'oooo' noise, you have seen this kind of weather before but no one would like to be outside when it happened, nervously and quickly you finally fit the key in the lock and opened the door, hurrying inside and closing it behind, a loud bang thundered through the silent room, the unexpected storm slamming against the walls and windows, you left the lights on before going out.

After a minute it seemed to calm down, wind turning into a breeze and the sky now it's usual black, no stars in the sky.

You let out a sigh and walked to the counter to drop your keys, the phone and your purse, you had to make sure all the windows were closed for the night, luckily it was Saturday, so no need to go out tomorrow on that crazy weather.

Windows secured, you changed into your winter pajamas, a gray pair of pants with a pattern of a cat on toast and eggs, with a pastel blue loose shirt. Making your way to the kitchen you decided a light snack would be enough for tonight, after that run and emotion on the way back home you had no energy to cook a proper dinner, not even microwave, it was also too late for it anyways you thought.

You put the snack bowl and a cup of water on the kitchen counter, looking to grab your phone. You noticed you still had the dirty flyer, forgot to drop it between the commotion maybe?

Placing it aside and unlocking your phone screen, you opened the ‘best friend's’ chat group

You. 'Hey guys, did you get any of that weird winter storm action today after school?'

Rob. 'Nah, it was a clear sky for me'

Itai. 'Same, also I was asleep all afternoon'

You. 'Strange, I got caught on this whirlwind on my way back home from the store, just my luck I guess >:('

Both of the boys. 'Lol yea'

Putting the phone down and chomping on some of the snacks, you thought about the events, it was indeed a clear sky earlier, only a couple of common clouds you took pictures of before it. You grabbed the phone again, quickly to see if any of the photos looked good.

"Pleasepleaseplease" you muttered in excitement, it was a very cute view, hopefully one picture captured it nicely.

And they did, a couple looked stunning, you smiled, thinking at least it was worth getting your hair all messed up by the wind, you were about to delete one picture it since it was blurry when you noticed a different kind of blur, it was gray with splashes of green in the corner, similar to what you saw at the funeral.

"There was nothing green on the other pictures, was it?" you looked through the other photos and they were pretty normal, full of pink, purple and blue from the sunset.

You looked back at the flyer

"Betelgeuse, betelgeuse, betelgeuse huh" You said in a playful tone, grabbing the torn paper from the counter, you felt a shiver, a strong one this time, well that was the opposite of a calming experience, but still the word felt strange when you said it, it wasn't like you hadn't said before, Orion was a popular constellation, and the Betelgeuse star was on it; but this time the air inside had a tense feeling.

All the lights went off after a second "Now a blackout? What's with today ugh" picking up your phone to use as a flashlight, after a couple of seconds before you could turn it on, all the lights came back again, but you almost had a heart attack when you saw someone standing in the center of the living room, enveloped in a green mist.

"FUCK wh- WHO THE FUCK-" you stuttered before turning around and grabbing the closest thing to use as a weapon, a wooden spoon used for beating eggs this morning "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE? WHO ARE YOU? GET OUT!"

The figure was a man, taller than you, dressed in a striped black and white suit, dark hair with green tints at the end, a wicked smile plastered on his face, he took a look around, then back to you, endless chills went down your spine when you met his eyes, you could feel the tense aura from before growing stronger, anticipating, colder.

"Well who might I be? You should know, you called my name baby! Glad to make some business with you tonight!" He said as he extended a hand and walked, floated? quickly towards a paralized you, frozen in place, you only managed to put the spoon up in self defense from whomever this man could be, the lights were out for just a few seconds, was he inside the apartment all this time?

"S-stop right there you!" tried to threaten the man with the wooden tool, he didn't seem to notice nor care, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, then placing a sloppy kiss in your face, petrified, you shivered and gripped the spoon harder, he felt oddly cold.

...Did he just kiss you? Who does he think he is??

"No no, no stopping now! We just got started cakes, and now that you said my name three times, I can finally interact with you and everything here in the world of the living! Gotta say thanks it's been real boring being invisible for so long lemme tell ya-"

*WHACK*

You hit the man in the head with the wooden spoon as hard as you could.

...the spoon broke.

The man's smile grew wider

#hope it's o k a y #I'll reblob this tomorrow with tags it's 2am help me #fanfic #fanfiction #beetlejuice #betelgeuse #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x you #musical beetlejuice #draft #female reader #could be both Blum or Alex I love them both sm #or any other that u seem fit #I need a name for this jhfdsdfj #is 'whack' the correct sound?#sorry for the cliff #might edit later

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mypassionfortrash · 4 years

Text

Biology Lessons (part three)

Your date with Roger leads to 72 hours of agonising over whether you want to see him again. Will you give in and call him?

Warnings: This one gets really rude; you have been warned. This series is strictly 18+. Notes: Thank you for the incredible responses to parts one and two – I really appreciate it!

🧪✨Read from the beginning✨🧪

Tags: @jennyggggrrr @wineandwanderings @scorpiogemini @cherries-n-rocknroll @crayforqueen @perriwiinkle @queenmylovely @trymymachines @80s-roger

‘Had a lovely evening last night. Let me know what you decide ;)’

There was no disguising the sigh that came with reading that text.

“Why does Rufus’ dad want to know if you’ll see him again?”

Jumping out of your skin, you looked up at the now silent gathering. And then you turned to Ashley, a fellow teacher. “What?” you asked in a daze.

“Rufus’ dad,” she pressed, nodding at your phone.

You tried to hide the way your mouth contorted when you felt embarrassed or the way you sank in on yourself, hoping that question would just go away. “Rufus is struggling with biology, and I’m giving his Mr. Taylor some of the course materials and a bit of tuition to help him out,” you explained.

“Not buying it,” Ashley said.

“Well, that’s what it is.”

“Wait, who’s Rufus’ dad? And why aren’t you buying it?” Katie, the rather gregarious friend in the group, asked. “Do you think they…”

“He is rather attractive,” Ashley said, sitting back in her chair and looking at you. “But you’ve got the good sense not to go shagging a parent, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!”

“She’s lying,” Katie said. “Look she’s doing that thing with her lip again. She can’t even look at you.”

Ashley’s face sank. “Really?”

“Can we move on from this now, please?” you huffed. Squeezing the bridge of your nose, you became defensive. “Nothing happened when I saw him.”

Katie didn’t waste a second. “When did you see him?”

“Last night.”

“You left work bang on last night,” Ashley interjected.

“Did you see him after that?” Katie asked.

“Extra tuition,” Ashley scoffed. “Good job you’re a biology teacher. I think Mr. Taylor’s very interested in that.”

“I take it he’s a bit of a flirt, then?” Katie asked.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” Ashley said, leaning in. Her eyes were wild, frantic with the information she was about to impart. “Every single teacher at parents night.”

“Even the men?”

“If they had tits, Mr. Taylor was all over them like a rash.”

“Sounds like a bit of a perv to me.” Katie narrowed her eyes and glanced over at you. “Are you sure you’re not involved with him?”

“And the best thing,” Ashley added, “is that he’s really bloody nice. So you can’t even be mad at him for it!”

“Sounds like he’s got a lot going for him.”

The scene in front of you was a bit like a ping-pong match, and you were only there to watch. Your head batted back and forth across the table with whiplash-inducing velocity. You needed to nip this in the bud. “Alright. Alright. Will you two shut up,” you snapped, praying for the ground to split and gobble you up. “I’ll tell you what happened if you promise not to judge or fly off the handle. Just don’t say anything.”

Katie was in the process of draining her large wine glass when her eyes doubled in size. “So there is something going on?”

Ashley just buried her head in her hands.

“He didn’t show up to his appointment at parents’ evening on time. We rearranged. And he asked if I wanted to go to dinner with him. There. Happy?”

“And did you?” Ashley asked.

You sighed and nodded, resigned to the judgmental onslaught she was about to unleash.

“You do know that if people found out about this… well…” Ashley shrugged. “It’s not going to look good for you.”

“Chill out; I know that,” you said. “I’m not even sure if I want to see Roger again.”

“Did you at least have a good time?” Katie asked.

Your heart did cartwheels just thinking about the night before. “Yeah,” you admitted. “I did. He’s a proper gent. Brought me flowers and everything.”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Oh god.”

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Katie said, trying to see things from your perspective.

You shrugged and chewed at your lip. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want to see him again, but you couldn’t admit that to Ashley and Katie. Ashley, more so, didn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing she was right.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, looking down at your phone. “I really don’t know.”

The situation weighed you down all weekend. The dread kept you awake. And on Monday morning, you wandered into work feeling like you had been on a 72-hour bender.

The morning passed you by as you trundled on through the exhaustion. Sneaking sips of coffee between classes and occasionally giving yourself a quick smack to the face when you visited that fateful cupboard for supplies helped.

And then, lunch came around.

There was something about the women at the school that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Something that just didn’t sit right with you. Something that made you grind your teeth every time you heard them speak.

Maybe it was that giddy air of solidarity when someone decided to air details of their private lives in the staff room. Or the frenzied diet talk – paleo, keto, atkins and whatever else helped some poor woman lose a pound a day by only eating grapefruit or something like that. The topic of today, however, was Miss Collins from Maths’ impending wedding.

Every woman in the staff room sat huddled around her as she swiped through photos of her dress, the bridesmaid’s dresses, the cake… colour swatches for the flowers and decorations.

You couldn’t tell the difference between periwinkle and cornflower blue if you tried. And your brain wasn’t even going to attempt to cooperate with you. So you kept your gaze trained forward, out the window, as the kettle boiled for another cup of coffee; listening in to the mindless chit chat about weddings and partners, trying for babies and the key to a happy marriage. Tracing the outline of your phone in your pocket, you found yourself searching for a temporary cure for your own loneliness.

The kettle clicked and you poured the water into your coffee cup, rattled the spoon around inside it and turned towards the door.

“Come and sit with us!” Miss Collins squawked.

The shrill sound of her voice made you wince hard enough that drops of coffee splattered on the floor. Your gaze shot between her and your colleagues; they had a delirious look in their eyes, like a group of rabid seagulls fighting for a shard of ‘Spring Bride’ magazine. “I’ve just remembered,” you began, gesturing towards the door, “I’ve got a pile of homework to mark before this afternoon.”

“Oh, come on! Come and have a look at my dress!”

Desperate to maintain some semblance of calm, you gave her a sweet smile and spoke softly. “Some other time.”

By the time you arrived back at your classroom, your coffee cup was half empty. Your cheeks felt hot and you had almost broken a sweat. You practically ran all the way there. Out of breath and cocooned inside the empty room, you dumped your lunch and mug on your desk and whipped out your phone. Your chest heaved with every tap at the screen until your thumb lingered just over his number.

Panic simmered in your chest with every ring. Pacing across the room, you couldn’t help sinking your teeth into your knuckle while you waited for him to pick up.

After what felt like an eternity, Roger finally answered. “You took your time,” he quipped.

“Sorry,” you sighed. “I just… needed to think things through.”

“That’s totally understandable. So, when am I getting another biology lesson?”

You bit back a giddy laugh. “When would you like one?”

“You free tonight?”

“Ooh, I don’t know. Not on a school night.”

“I could be quick.” Suddenly, Roger lowered his tone. “After all, it’s been a while.”

You gnawed at your knuckle again, deliberating whether to give in to him.

“Still there?”

“Still here.”

“Tell you what,” Roger said. “I’m picking Rufus up from his music lesson at five. I could perhaps swing by that little cupboard of yours a bit earlier.”

Your eyes snapped to the door at the back of the classroom and you couldn’t fight off a sly grin. Roger could hear it down the line.

“I’ll take that as a yes then?”

“Yes!” It came out with more enthusiasm than you had meant to. “I mean… sure.”

“Can I ask for something really cheeky?”

“Maybe. Since it’s you.”

He sounded sheepish with a naughty undertone. “Can you wear your lab coat?”

“I’ll see how generous I’m feeling come the end of the day.”

“I’ll take that also as a yes. I’ll be there at ten to four.”

“Good luck sneaking past Angela.”

Long after the halls cleared of moody teenagers, you found yourself alone in your classroom again. It was only ten minutes, but it felt like forever. And when you glanced at your lab coat hanging beside the door, something caught your eye in the corridor beyond. Angela’s red hair and cat-eye glasses were just visible through the window. And then Roger came into view wearing that bright, mischievous smile of his. You knew if he spent any longer with Angela, he’d have charmed the pants off of her, and you couldn’t have that. So you leapt to your feet and strode towards the door before she had time to knock.

“There she is!” Roger grinned.

“Mr. Taylor’s here for Rufus’ homework,” Angela explained. “I can wait here and show you back out if you like.”

Roger furrowed his brow. “Actually, Angela, we need to talk through the homework. He’s been struggling with biology. It might take a while. Besides, I still need to pop down to Music. I don’t want to keep you.”

Angela’s eyes widened at that long-winded explanation. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry, I can show him out when he’s got everything he needs,” you reassured, choosing to ignore Roger shooting a wink at you.

When Angela was out of earshot, you reached out and pulled Roger into the room by his shirt collar. “You need to be careful,” you warned, snatching your lab coat off the hook.

“You know, in my day,” Roger began, struggling to keep up with you, “our teachers used to belt us if we misbehaved.”

“Don’t test me, just get in the cupboard.”

Roger paused at the threshold, rosy-cheeked and absolutely beaming. “Don’t mind if I do, m’lady.”

You slung your lab coat on and followed Roger inside. Squeezed against him, the pair of you were forced together in a feverish, series of kisses.

But Roger broke away and shoved you back towards the door. “I thought I asked for nothing but the lab coat,” he mumbled against your neck as his hands clawed your skirt up around your waist.

“Let’s see how this goes first.” Unbuckling his belt, you allowed your hands to stray over the outline of his cock. You giggled with delight, realising he was already hard. “For an older gent, you don’t have much trouble.”

“Been thinking about this all day,” he said. He didn’t waste any time, pawing at your underwear. Leaning in close to your neck, he sighed. “You filthy girl.”

“Shut up and fuck me,” you instructed, yanking down Roger’s zipper.

He allowed you a split second of stroking his cock. Leaning his head back with his lips slightly parted, you could hear him sigh, starting to enjoy himself. And then his gaze returned to you. With the full force of his body, he pressed himself up against you, sending you colliding into a cabinet full of beakers. You swore you heard some smash as he hauled you on top of it. “You want my cock?” he teased, dragging his hand down your neck. You nodded as keenly as you could manage, looking him dead in the eye. “Hm? Tell me how much you want it,” he goaded.

You shot Roger your best doe eyes as you unbuttoned his shirt. “I’ll ask you nicely then. Please fuck me.”

Roger curled his finger underneath the gusset of your underwear and snapped it back against your clothed slit. “You’re gonna need to lose these first.” He practically tore them from your thighs and threw them to the ground. And then he paused.

“What’s the matter?” you purred rubbing at the heat between your legs.

“I need to see those tits, too,” he said, drawing his teeth along your neck. His fingers nimbly undid the buttons on your blouse and clawed your bra straps and lab coat from your shoulders. His mouth travelled from your neck lower and lower down your chest. He nipped and nibbled, lapping at your nipples and pinched them between his lips, forcing quiet moans from you. “Fucking beautiful,” he groaned.

You couldn’t contain the utter desperation just to have him. The only thing you could do was wrap your hand around his cock and stroke it for just a split second longer than Roger would allow.

He was already so strung out that he needed a distraction. Your thighs would suffice. He squeezed at the nylon-clad flesh with a satisfied purr, peppering kisses higher and higher on one thigh and stopping right where you wanted his mouth most. He never once broke eye contact with you batting his eyelashes beneath his gold-rimmed glasses. That cheeky glint amplified your need even more. So, just as those wet, lazy kisses reached the top of your other thigh, you grabbed a tuft of soft, greying hair. Pulling him inches away from the dripping heat between your legs.

Roger knew when to be good. Following your lead, he grinned as you guided him all the way. He gingerly licked a flat, slow strip over your core. Eyes closed and relishing every drop of arousal on his tongue. But that restraint was short-lived. With his nails clawing at your hips, he buried his face squarely between your thighs and picked up the pace. Exploring every inch, sucking at every fold. You were sure this was the only time he was able to keep quiet. And even at that, he made sure to let you know just how good you tasted with soft purrs of approval that sent delicious tremors coursing through your body. He kept a toe-curling rhythm. Purposeful, forceful. But he made sure to steer clear of your clit.

Roger was good at this. So good that he managed to have you dangling on the edge of release in minutes. He somehow coaxed out every roll of your hips with ease. And the way he gazed up at you, eyes narrowed by the smile on his lips, savouring every second of pleasure he could bring you. Being quiet about this was out of the question for you.

Especially when his fingers, slick with arousal, lingered right at your entrance. Dancing around, trying to pinpoint the opportune moment to force another lightning bolt of bliss through your body. Every second he held off drew your muscles tighter in anticipation.

At the same moment, his fingers slipped inside you, his tongue feathered over your clit and the euphoric explosion that resulted made you arch your back against him. Eager for more. You could feel it building again—faster this time. You gripped Roger’s hair and gritted your teeth as his fingers fucked you and his tongue kept time flicking over that sensitive little nub. Being quiet became impossible. You knew that if anyone walked past the lab, they’d hear all of the sighs and curses that escaped your mouth. In a moment of shame and horror, you brought your free hand up to your mouth and bit down hard on your knuckle. You knew you were close.

Roger did too. Your muscles trembled under the iron grip his free hand had on you and the dark, knowing streak in his eyes was too much. Rather than chew your own hand off, or rip out chunks of poor Roger’s hair, you resorted to clawing tracks along the surface of the wooden cabinet. Blissful waves forced strangled whines out of you as Roger’s efforts shook you to your core.

But it wasn’t over.

Your legs still felt like jelly when Roger pulled you off the cabinet and into his arms. You could still taste yourself when he kissed you. Pressing himself against you with one hand raking through your hair. His other arm held you firmly in place tight against his body. You could feel every feverish breath pulsing through his chest. And every moan that rattled from his body to yours. And his cock, still hard and begging for attention.

You broke away, lingering shy of Roger’s lips. “I think you should put that cock of yours to good use.”

Roger grinned and grazed his nose against yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t need telling twice. He turned you around to face the wall, leaning over the cabinet.

You could feel the back of your lab coat being hiked up and cool wisps of air caressing your skin. That was quickly replaced by the warmth of Roger’s body. The tip of his cock teased you; gliding up and down your slit. Excitement and anticipation got the better of you, though, as you tried to move back into him.

“Steady on, darling, I want to enjoy this,” Roger taunted, giving your arse a swift swat that made you jump.

You hadn’t registered what had happened until Roger sank his length inside you. Filling you so deliciously that your brain fogged over with need again that a delighted sigh slipped out.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, hunching over you with an arm around your waist. “And you’re absolutely dripping for me. Fuck.”

You weren’t going anywhere, even as Roger’s thrusts gained ferocity he made sure of that. The slick, sticky slap of flesh on flesh pierced the room and the worry of being caught in the act crept into your consciousness again, but you were enjoying this far too much to give a damn. The sheer girth of him and the way he stretched you had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. And you could have got lost in the feeling of his breath on your neck as he clawed off your lab coat and your blouse so that he could sink his teeth into your skin as he fucked you like an animal. You couldn’t help but tighten around him.

“I’m not going to last much longer if you do that,” he warned.

Another worry struck you.

“God, I’m so close. Where do you want it, darling?”

At least he was considerate. “Fuck, let me taste you.”

Roger’s hand found its way into your hair again, pulling you upright. “On your knees,” he instructed, backing himself up against the other wall of the cramped cupboard. “Come here.”

You did exactly as Roger told you and kneeled on the cold concrete floor in front of him.

One hand tugged at your hair, while the other directed his thick, veined cock towards your mouth. But you didn’t need any more encouragement.

Wrapping your hand around the base, Roger watched in bliss as you tongued the tip and eventually sank as much of it in your mouth as you could. Not only was his girth impressive, but it didn’t take much effort for his cock to prod the back of your throat in just the right way to send tears streaking down your cheeks. You knew your jaw would ache in a matter of minutes. You prayed he was as close as he said he was, and set about a mind-melting effort with your lips and your tongue and your hand. Which Roger clearly enjoyed as his hands fell to his sides as he admired you. Wet and slick and eager, you didn’t care about mess. Threads of saliva dripped down your chin and on to your chest.

“Fuck,” Roger cursed. “Such a messy girl, aren’t you?”

All you could manage was a strangled ‘mmmrf,’ and a stupid nod in response. At least it earned a wicked laugh from Roger.

“Show me how messy you can get for me,” he cooed almost soothingly. And then his slender fingers were back, tugging your hair as his hips thrust towards your mouth. All you could do was brace yourself on his thighs and keep your mouth open. Tongue out, drooling over his throbbing member. “Fuck. I always knew that mouth of yours would feel incredible,” he sighed, pulling you off him, leaving a thick rope of spit suspended between him and your mouth. Roger wiped it up, spreading it over your chin while his other hand pumped away at his shaft. His voice wavered when he spoke. “Be a good girl and open up.”

You were disgusted with yourself. On your knees in a science lab cupboard. Being spoken to like this. Watching in awe as Roger worked himself to orgasm and unloaded rope after rope of thick, sticky cum over your face, your glasses and in your hair.

Roger hadn’t even given you the chance to clean yourself up before his watch caught his eye. “Shit!” he hissed. “It’s ten past five! God knows what Rufus is up to! Sorry, I need to go.” He made quick work of zipping up his jeans and buttoning his shirt. He had his hand on the door handle before he turned to you, trying to thumb globs on cum into your mouth. Roger smirked, “I’ll be seeing you again, then?”

You hadn’t thought about seeing Roger again during your romp in the cupboard. You managed to croak out an uneasy, “yeah,” just before he left.

There was only so much cleanup you could do in a cupboard. So, with your hair up in a ponytail, and the last remnants of makeup still desperately clinging to your face, you darted out to your car. Head down. Feet moving fast. Ignoring every distraction. Until a familiar voice hijacked your attention.

“I’ll maybe see you at Easter school?”

It was Roger. You looked up, searching around the car park. You saw him waving at you six or seven cars over. Rufus was already belted up in the passenger seat, engrossed in his phone screen.

You kept quiet and looked around to check if anyone was watching. And then your eyes snapped back to Roger. “I’ll look forward to it, Mr. Taylor.”

------------------------------------------------------

THANKS FOR READING! 💖 Please please please, if you enjoyed this, leave some feedback and reblog. It’s very helpful and tremendously encouraging!

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #queen #queen imagine #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor smut #roger taylor fic

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crossandchange · 3 years

Text

yuto // segmentation fault

This is a gift fic for @lilyyutodae! Happy holidays Lily, I hope you enjoy this weird little fic :)

@exolssecretsanta

Warnings: Some bad words, a good amount of jargon, and weird humor.

“God fucking damn it!” You cried as you saw those four damn words on your laptop screen:

Segmentation Fault (Core Dumped)

“I hate my life, I hate this class, and my professor can go to hell! Who in the modern world writes programs in C!” You ranted emphatically, slamming your hands against the grimy library desk.

The figure next to you sighed and craned his neck to get a closer look.

“I told you to get started on this project earlier, y/n. Why didn’t you listen?” Yuto commented, leaning back in his seat. “Segmentation faults are a pain to debug and you know this.”

“Yes dad,” you shot him a sarcastic thumbs up and started to add some debugging print statements. You yawned and glanced up to check the time on the brown clock on the wall above you. 12:20 AM. Fabulous, you were in for a long night. Why didn’t you bother buying coffee before the overpriced coffee shop across the street closed? Oh right, since it was overpriced.

You turned to face Yuto. “But why the hell are you here when you’re already done?”

Yuto twirled his pencil. “As I said two hours ago, I’m working on some proofs and I can’t quite crack it.” He sighed, looking away defeatedly. You patted him on the shoulder empathetically and turned back to your own laptop.

~~~~~

You had met Yuto in your freshman year calculus class. You had gotten lost in the endless hallway of the math building and finally stumbled into the right classroom, as the professor was reading from her five-page long syllabus. When she saw you, she stopped.

“So you are y/n? Pleased that you could join us. Welcome to the exciting world of multivariable calculus. Take a seat wherever you can find one,” she smiled, extending a chalky hand to shake yours. You quickly grabbed a syllabus and rushed to the first empty seat you could find, hastily taking down any notes you missed.

The bell rang and you rushed to grab your backpack and head off to your next class, but you were stopped by a tap on your shoulder. It was the boy sitting next to you.

“Hi, I’m Yuto. I’m an electrical engineering major. What about you?” Flustered, you sat back down and introduced yourself.

“I’m y/n, I have a class right after this, I gotta go, but pleased to meet you!” The words spilled out of your mouth and you made a motion to grab your papers, but you were stopped by the boy--no, Yuto--scribbling on your syllabus.

“That’s my number. We should text each other for homework help and stuff. See you around!” He waved you off.

Since then, Yuto has been your best study buddy. Whenever you had quizzes, you would study together the night before. You would proofread each other’s papers and debug each other’s code. You also brought him to all the free food events on campus. The two of you would often be seen grabbing pizza, burritos, and donuts--all for the price of signing up on a club membership list.

Your roommate would often tease you as you got ready for a late-night library study session.

“Heading off to see your boyfriend?” She would smirk, leaning lazily against the doorway.

“For the last time, he’s not my boyfriend. I have plenty of other male friends that I hang out with. He’s just super smart and I’d like all the help I can get!” You retorted, cheeks flushing red. Your roommate raised a knowing eyebrow and sauntered back into her room.

She had a point, though. Yuto wasn’t just any friend. Over the couple of months you knew him, you saw more than just his book smarts. Yuto was kind, intelligent, and orderly. Time and time again, he had been your saving grace--reminding you of deadlines, buying you coffee when you had an early morning class, and being there to listen when you complained about grades and life.

Not to forget that his ass looked great in a pair of jeans.

So it was inevitable that you fell for this sweet, calm boy. You could only hope that he either felt the same, or was too dense to notice your feeble attempts at flirtation.

~~~~~~~

You let out a whoosh of air and slowly rose to your feet, extending your arms out above your head. You did it. You had finally solved your pesky segmentation fault after two hours of furious typing, googling, and head-desking. You turned to Yuto to shake him with excitement, only to find that he had snoozed off, head lolling against the olive green fabric of the crusty couch.

Well, one could only stare at proofs for so long at the wee hours of the night before sleep took over. His face was serene; the pressure of maintaining scholarships and grades did not affect him in the land of sleep. You sunk back into the couch. Maybe you too, deserved a cat nap before finishing this last report…

When you came to, you noticed a couple of things.

First, the birds were starting to chirp outside as the sky started to brighten from a midnight black to a cerulean blue. Stupid birds and their morning songs.

Second, your head was resting comfortably on a lap. Wait, what?

You pushed yourself up from the couch and blinked a couple of times to dispel the haze of slumber. Yuto was still propped up against the couch, sleeping away peacefully. At some point in the night, your head must have ended up in his lap. Not that you were complaining, though.

In a trance, you slowly brought your hand up to faintly trace the contours of his face. You followed the line of his nose bridge, feathered your fingers along his eyebrows, and slowly dragged your fingers along his cheek until you realized that his eyes were no longer shut.

Well shit.

Some rational part of your brain screamed at you to pull your hand away, but you were caught in his spell. He was looking at you intently. There was no look of disdain in his eyes, no surprise, but rather… curiosity? Your breath hitched in your throat and you leaned in.

Oh God, you were kissing him. And oh fuck, he was kissing you back. At this moment, you didn’t care about the consequences of kissing your best friend. It felt good to meld your lips with his, arms snaking around his neck to bring you closer. It wasn’t until his hands found their way into your hair that you broke away, gasping from the sudden weight of your actions.

“I am so sorry”, you mumbled, burying your face into your hands. “I finished my program earlier and took a nap. I’ll head--”

You were interrupted by his hands pulling your hands away from your crimson cheeks.

“Don’t be.”

“What?”

“Don’t be sorry,” Yuto said with a half smile, peering down at you with adoration. “I just got to kiss the girl of my dreams.” He leaned in once again, but you brought up a palm to meet his lips, earning you a look of surprise on his face.

“What?” You repeated, at a loss for words.

“God, I didn’t think you were this dense.” Yuto said, shaking his head. He exhaled.

“I. like. you.” He punctuated each word clearly. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

“And I’m pretty sure that you like me too, considering you just kissed me,” he chuckled. God, the nerve of this man. You tangled your fingers with his and shyly looked down.

“You caught me,” you said in a small voice, the adrenaline wearing off. The urge to crawl into bed and snuggle with this infuriatingly beautiful man was taking over your thought process.

Yuto was thinking along the same lines. “How about we get some breakfast and go sleep in a real bed?”

“Deal. Wait, not my place. I don’t want to deal with my roommate,” you groaned.

He smiled and kissed your hand. “We’ll take it one step at a time, babe.”

#I am sorry in advance #I am not a writer and so this was difficult #i apologize if y'all don't understand the random technical terms #just know that C is an old language that's kinda hard to debug #yuto fluff #pentagon yuto #yuto au

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delicatelyherdreams · 4 years

Text

*shudder* Finals

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Finals have got you a little stressed and with stress comes strain and forgetting to satisfy your basic needs. [University AU]

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 1651

A/N: This is for @peaky-shelby as a part of the lovely @bucky-smiles‘s Secret Santa! A little birdy told me that you loved the Univeristy AU and I figured that nothing screams “UNIVERSITY” quite like finals. I hope you like this and I’m sorry if it’s not everything you were hoping for. Merry Christmas!!

You hated pulling all-nighters and you hated being tired.

Unfortunately, you’d had to pull an all-nighter the night before and you were exhausted. A lone cup of coffee sat on the table beside you, just one of the many you’d already consumed—and it wasn’t even 10:00 yet.

But this was finals.

And you had

much

studying to do.

There were statistics and there was literature. There was physics and there was psychology. And then there was more. So many classes to study for and write papers for and prepare for and not nearly enough time for it all.

To say you were stressed would have been a gross understatement.

You hunched over your psychology textbook, trying to hammer the difference between “catalepsy” and “cataplexy” into your mind, but it just wouldn’t go. No matter how many times you read the definition or used the mnemonic devices your teacher had suggested, you still couldn’t get these and other terms down into your mind. The words wouldn’t stop swimming, getting mixed up and tangled with numbers and formulas from math and other definitions for other classes. Reading this textbook was simply like dumping a glass of water into a swimming pool: utterly pointless.

The groan that escaped your mouth was purely animalistic and you shoved your book away before grabbing your coffee and slamming it back.

A soft chuckle was heard behind you and you didn’t have to look over your shoulder to see who it was. You would know that sweet-as-honey and warm-as-a-fireplace voice anywhere.

“I thought I’d find you here.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

You weren’t smiling back. You were too stressed to smile. “I’m always here, Steve.”

“I know you are.” He pulled the chair next to you back and slid in. Instantly the air around you lightened with his presence.

You felt a small weight lifting from your shoulders, though it was quite minuscule and hardly made a difference. His presence was odd. “What are you doing here, Steve?”

“I came to see you. You’ve been studying nonstop for weeks. I wanted to check up on my girlfriend.”

“Your girlfriend is fine. She just needs to finish these finals.” You tore your gaze away from him and turned back to the notebook before you.

“She needs a break,” he murmured, reaching over and placing his hand on your upper arm. “You’ve been studying nonstop for like the last week and it’s not healthy.”

“What’s not healthy is how unprepared for this I am.” Your head was swimming with numbers, vocab words, and important ideas and topics but you were still so out of it. “I’ve covered maybe half of my classes, and I still have two final papers to finish writing. I mean, I’m halfway done with one of them, but I don’t even have my thesis statement for the other.” Your head was heavy.

His hand found a home on your back and he began to rub small circles. “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine, I promise. But for right now, I think you need a break. You’re going to end up crashing and burning if you continue at this rate.”

“No, I’m going to fail if I don’t study. Please, Steve, just let me do this.”

He shook his head. “I won’t. You’re running yourself into the ground and it’s not healthy. You’re taking a break and going to brunch with me.”

“No, Steve. I’m not. I’m staying here with my books and I’m studying.”

He went quiet for a bit, those darling blue eyes of his growing dark and ponderous. He was devising a plan, you could see it building up behind his eyes.

You frowned. “Steve? What are you planning?”

“Nothing. I… I’ll be back.” He stood up, leaned over, and pressed his lips to the top of your head. Then he was gone.

You were left alone once more, silence overtaking you. Suddenly, it was very lonely. Steve was gone and you were on your own with books as your only companion. But you didn’t have time to focus on the silence. You had studying to do.

You got lost in the words on the page. The words committed themselves to memory after a while, their meaning being branded on your brain. You had this, you realized. You could do it. You were memorizing these and—

*Splat.*

Your concentration was broken with a heavy thud as something crashed onto your textbook. It was a plastic bag, just one of several that had made their home on your desk.

You jumped back, your chair creaking loudly as you fell, and your head snapped up to the source of your disruption. “Steve! What the fuck?”

He didn’t even flinch at your shout. His cheeks were rosy from the cold outside and he still held a bag or two. He moved with a purpose as he set them down. His shoulders simply shrugged. “I got us food. You need to eat, and if you won’t go out with me to get food, then I’ve got to bring the food here. Simple.” He unloaded the bag that was sitting squarely on your textbook, pulling out foam to-go containers. “I’ve got hashbrowns in this one, pancakes in this one. I’m pretty sure there’s some French toast here, but I could be wrong. I don’t know what all they gave me, I just ordered the biggest meals they had and brought it here so you could have options.”

“Steve, you’re gonna get grease all over my books!” You quickly shoved the bag off the precious textbook, fit in a pencil between the pages and closed it. “Are you crazy?”

He snorted. “Like you even have to ask.” He pulled out the chair next to you and slid a container over to you. “Now, eat. I didn’t buy all this food just so it could go cold.”

“I didn’t ask you to buy all this.”

“I know, but I need you to eat something. You’ve been holed up here for days and it’s not good. Now, if you don’t eat willingly…” He reached into the bag closest to him, pulled out a fork, opened a container holding some French toast, stabbed a piece, and held it up. “I’m going to feed you. You can’t study if you don’t have your strength and you don’t have your strength if you don’t eat.”

You rolled your eyes. “This is stupid. Just let me get back to work.”

“No.” He moved the fork closer to your lips. “Now either take the fork or say ‘ah.’”

You cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m not kidding, (y/n). You’ve got to take care of yourself and if you’re incapable of it, I will do it for you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your boyfriend and I love you and I want you to be happy and healthy. I can’t help with the happy part until after finals, but I can do my best to satisfy the healthy part. Okay? Just do me this one thing and eat and then I promise I’ll leave you alone. Well, I’ll leave you alone until next mealtime, that is.” He spared you a small smile as he motioned with the fork again. “Please?”

You wanted to refuse him, to tell him to leave you be so you could get done with this, but a grumbling in your stomach stopped you. You had to admit that the food did look really good and, although you really needed to get this done, you did need to eat. Maybe a small break wouldn’t kill you. Swallowing thickly, you leaned forward and took the bite from the fork.

Once you started eating, you couldn’t stop. You let Steve feed you until you were full and satisfied, leaning back in your chair with a lazy smile on your face and listening to Steve talk absently.

“...and then I said, ‘I can’t do it, man. I’ve gotta survive until next year at the very least.’”

You’d lost track of what he was saying long ago, simply opting to just listen to him as you reveled in your mental break. You didn’t even notice him stop talking until he called your name. “Hm?” You turned your head to look at him.

He had a small smile on his face. “You feeling better yet?”

“Yeah… Much better.” You weren’t lying as you smiled softly at him. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. I only did what any good boyfriend would do.” He sat up in the chair and turned to you opening his arms wide. “Now, come here.”

You didn’t hesitate to fall into his embrace, nuzzling your face into his chest and inhaling his scent. He smelled really freaking good.

His hand found the back of your head as he pet your hair, humming as he did. “You’re doing amazing, I hope you now that. And don’t worry, finals are almost done and when they are, we can do nothing but relax for a week.”

You hummed through the face full of sweater. “You promise?”

“I promise. Now, I’ll get out of your way so you can finish studying.” He pulled away from you, untangling your limbs and standing up. He grabbed his coat from the chair and started to leave you.

“Wait!”

He paused and turned, his face inquisitive.

You stared at him, your eyes pleading. “Will you come back for dinner?”

“Do you want me to?”

You nodded shyly.

“Then I will.” He smiled softly.

A small weight lifted off your chest and you let out a breath. “Bring some dumplings for me? We can do Chinese from that place you like.”

“Of course.” He shrugged on his jacket and smiled at you. “I’ll be back around five. Study your little heart out and I’ll see you then. Just don’t kill yourself with stress.”

You chuckled and nodded. “Aye aye, Captain.”

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

Note

“I think you need to lick me clean…” - mob boss!tony starker

Don’t Bother To Resist

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: Mature (M) Notes: So - any time I think about a mob boss situation for either of these cats, my mind immediately gets smutty - hope that’s okay! Warnings: NSFW stuff - Tony is gratuitous in his pleasure giving. Summary:

In exchange for keeping Ben’s salary in the family, Peter offers himself up to Tony Stark, weapon’s overlord extraordinaire.

do the thing, send in all the prompts

Taking control of Stark Industries at 21 was a glorious thing for Tony – his father wasn’t there to berate him and after a couple of sharp words at the first board meeting after taking over, not a single soul could stand in his way. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that the black market was where the money was really at – if he wanted to rule the industry, he needed to do it with an iron fist.

It took him a few years and several cleverly made moves to even make a splash in the illegal weapons circuit. Stark Industries didn’t have the cleanest record, but there were several standing deals with reputable companies that needed to be seen through before the final moves could be made. It wouldn’t do him any good to take anyone else down with him.

He wanted power and that meant making people owe him, not the other way around. The second the opportunity arose, Tony struck out and made a name for SI – the privatization of the company allowing him to dip his toes wherever the hell he wanted.

When things became big time, Tony put together a team of people that were trustworthy and smart enough to understand exactly what kind of business they were dealing with. His childhood friend Happy stood by his side from the get-go, so the place of honor as first in command went to him. Long-time friends Steve and Bucky were proven talents with both their hands and the delicately crafted weapons Tony supplied his men. The rest of the crew changed out frequently and didn’t get close enough for him to even learn their names.

Despite the worsening of public opinion, Tony enjoyed the move his company was making. Try as they might, no public official or police chief could pin him for anything – with Tony’s mind and Jarvis’s abilities to get into records and make them disappear, his file was squeaky clean and anything that could have led back to him no longer existed. Being smarter than everyone else had its perks.

For years, Tony overtook technology companies, privatized them, and dumped whatever money necessary into them to make them a functioning hub for the weapons that were being circulated all over the world – many of the small country wars being fought over access to them. The delightful feeling of ruling settled over him frequently, his ego growing with every dollar made.

Right around the time he turned 40, something unexpected happened. One of his transportation second in commands, Ben Parker, came to him in desperation – the man on his hands and knees after so many years of putting people there.

Cancer was taking him quicker than anyone expected, he had a wife and nephew about to head into college. Said nephew wanted to take Ben’s place to continue providing. It was all a pleasant sob story until Ben flashed a picture of his nephew, the desperate need to put a name to the face ringing a bell in his head the second his brain started to categorize his lovely features.

“He’s 18?” Tony asked, his brain only digesting the fact that a glorious specimen of a person was putting themselves into whatever position Tony decided he wanted him in for the greater good. Despite not trying to think with his dick often, Tony wasn’t going to dismiss the fact that he felt a distinct stirring in his stomach when he thought about the soft cheeks and sharp curls framing brown eyes and a wide smile.

Ben looked taken aback for a second, his eyes widening before he tucked his head, nodding in an affirmative. Tony knew for a fact that Ben Parker wasn’t a dumb man – the simple fact that he took Tony’s words of acceptance spoke of the seriousness of the situation. Like it was a burden, Tony sucked in a deep breath and made everyone in the room wait for the positive reaction they all knew was coming.

“Bring him around, Parker – I want to talk to him myself,” Tony said with finality, his eyes catching Steve’s, the man hefting Ben up off the ground. He saw the twitch in his jaw, the flash of pain that couldn’t be withheld.

“He’s outside, Tony. I’ll bring him in,” Ben remarked, his head hanging ever so slightly, his limbs subconsciously leaning into the supportive touch of Steve’s hands on him – the grip might be tight, but at least something was holding him up.

Tony locked eyes with Steve again, his head tilting. “Bring him in, then,” Tony muttered in agreement. He turned on his heel and made a beeline to the bar against the far wall. Uncapping his favorite whiskey, Tony turned, a mischievous grin on his face. “We’ll want to be alone.”

He didn’t need to look up to know that Steve was doing what he was told – the man more than aware that Tony didn’t make statements more than once. He poured himself a couple fingers worth of whiskey into a wide-mouth glass, the need to dull his excitement making him put the alcohol back like it was water. Grimacing, he poured himself another helping and took it with him over to the couch that took up much of the right wall.

The kid’s beauty was even more apparent in person – he walked into the room with his head held high; the projection of courage more than enough to already have Tony interested. He waked further into the room until he noticed Tony – his eyes widened a little at the sight of him.

“Mr. Parker – your uncle failed to mention a first name. What should I call you?” Tony practically purred, his fingers clenching around the glass he let rest casually against his knee. He craved the skin he knew would be soft under his fingertips – yet, patience would be the name of the game in this instance. Tony could tell just by the way he held himself.

Shifting a bit, Ben Parker’s nephew undid the button of the suit jacket he was wearing, his eyes moving from the floor to meet Tony’s for the first time. “I’m Peter, sir. Though, you can call me whatever you want,” the boy, no – Peter – said, the conviction in his voice shocking for the innocent look he portrayed.

Unable to help himself, Tony grinned – the cadence of the kid’s voice had him throwing back the whiskey in his glass, the burn and steady light-headed feeling the alcohol gave him keeping him on the couch. For once, he was grateful for the forced sensibility. The pretty thing before him deserved a little nurturing before Tony practically destroyed him.

----

Tony bid his time, his incorporation of Peter into the work subtle and nowhere near physical right out of the gate. After a little bit of digging, Tony found out that Peter graduated at the top of his class from a math and science based high school – the idea that he’d be able to actually teach him about the gun technology and not just the brute force of the business an appealing one. Nerding out wasn’t a thing that most criminal masterminds got to do – maybe with Peter in tow, he’d get his chance.

With that knowledge in his mind, Tony brought Peter into his personal labs. There wasn’t any escaping the nature of his job, Steve and Bucky stood guard around him at all times, but the detachment of the everyday hustle and bustle made it seem a little less sketchy. Every now and again, Tony found Peter smiling – the look too pure for its own good.

He taught him little things about the basic technology that went into the weapons that were frequently mass distributed – Peter was sharp and saw how the upgrades occurred to the basic system without Tony having to utter a word. If he weren’t already bound and determined to have Peter kneeling before him, the brain Peter possessed would’ve been a big driving factor.

Ben passed away 3 months after Peter started to work for him. With as much respect as possible, Tony attended the funeral and gave Peter as many days as he needed off – his aunt’s grateful look one he wasn’t sure he felt comfortable with; Tony was used to people hating him, not being grateful for the basic thing that anyone should do for a family riddled by grief.

It didn’t take long for Peter to come back – if it were possible, he seemed more seasoned and vulnerable than ever. His eyes were hardened by the terrible nature of death. Loss did something to a person, no matter how it happened or how prepared a person might think they really are. Tony watched him attack the work with abandon, and for some reason, that included Tony, too.

Of course, he hadn’t been completely secretive about what he wanted from Peter – some of the touches they shared were most definitely not appropriate for a boss and employee. Tony wanted to set the illusion that Peter had a choice. Though he’d never force him, Tony made a business dynasty out of getting what he wanted – an 18-year-old with big eyes and plump lips wouldn’t be the exception.

The need to force anyone’s hand didn’t come – Tony mentioned a drink in the penthouse and Peter was eagerly accepting, the blush on his face unmistakable. No matter how much Tony alluded to it, Peter’s physical reaction said things louder than words ever could. There was want there, his body couldn’t deny it.

Not one to give many shits about the rules, Tony poured Peter a serving of whiskey when he asked for it. He watched with an edge of entertainment as Peter threw it back, the grimace on his face equal parts cute and enticing. Tony couldn’t pinpoint what it was about Peter he liked – between his projected naivety and the genuine nature of his personality, he figured he couldn’t really go wrong.

Tony wandered into his bedroom without looking back – he didn’t need to check to know that Peter was trailing behind him. Getting into the room, Tony threw his own whiskey back and put the empty glass on his dresser. “Jarvis, put one of my Spotify playlists on,” Tony said, his eyes traveling over Peter who stepped into his space before he could even think to invite him.

The AI knew exactly where his head was at, the random old-rock playlist getting a jump start with a Beatles song he’d long ago written off and forgotten about – the tune perfect to not listen to. Without any more hesitation or worrying about being coy or bidding time, Tony grasped Peter’s hips and tugged him close, surprisingly long arms coming around his neck to narrow the space further.

“This is your one chance to step out. Once I know what you taste like, I know I’m not letting go.” Tony muttered the words as he nosed across the smooth skin of Peter’s face – the softness there sending a shiver down his spine, his nerve endings starting to rapidly come to life. His hands were greedy, the palms of them sliding down until he could grip Peter’s ass completely. The youth that clung to him was obvious everywhere, the leanness of his limbs and the quiet strength of his muscles shouting at him the loudest.

Fingers dug into the hair at the base of his head, Peter digging in there in a way that seemed gentler than it was. “I’m not a delicate flower, Mr. Stark. I want you to ruin me. The whole point is to make sure you don’t let me go,” Peter answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm and challenge and undeniable heat.

Their lips met a moment later, Tony using the leverage his grip afforded him to press their hips together and steal a heated kiss. Finding Peter already hard made him grin, his lips parting in a muted grunt. The excitability of a young adult never failed to make his blood boil with want that seemed uncontrollable – his energy matching Peter’s stride for stride.

In an attempt to move things along from the admittedly hot kisses, Tony stepped back and loosened his tie, the expensive silk undoing under his skilled fingers. His jacket came next and with it, a few buttons of the crisp white shirt he’d been sporting most of the day. Peter stared at him unmoving, he had his eyes glued to Tony’s hands, brown eyes taking in every move that he made.

Soon, he walked Peter back towards the bed, his hands pushing him down without much preamble. “Sit,” Tony ordered, his cock pulsing a little when Peter moved to obey him immediately. Hitting his knees in front of Peter, he peppered kisses across soft cheeks and swollen lips before methodically disrobing him – the younger man still watching hungrily.

It didn’t take him long to get Peter completely naked, the contrast of his mostly clothed attire a thing that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. Peter tugged at his shirt, but Tony ignored the request. His hands gripped Peter’s hips and pinned them in place, the tip of his tongue already moving to lick across the head of a leaky erection. The thrust he held back pulled a chuckle from his lips. “Keep still, Pete,” Tony mumbled, the words spoken into the skin of Peter’s cock, not directly to him.

Tony made quick work of engulfing the tip of Peter’s cock between his lips – he kept his grip loose until most of his length was in his mouth. The pulse against his tongue was insanely satisfying, Tony’s own cock begging for similar attention. Bound and determined to see Peter fall apart as much as possible, Tony started to bob his head, his lips tightening with every pass until Peter bucked up against him, the strength of the thrust more than Tony could hold back.

The sensation of chocking forced Tony to take a deep breath through his mouth – Peter’s cock hitting the back of his throat wasn’t the first time something like that happened. Feeling the drool slip down his chin, Tony pulled back, the strings of spit following him as he wiped across his face. Peeking up through long lashes, Tony kept eye contact with Peter, his fingers wrapping around the spit-soaked cock and stroking ruthlessly.

Peter’s fight to keep control made Tony’s hunger to watch him come undone run a little deeper – he added a flick of his wrist to every upstroke and tightening the grip of his fist. Those brown eyes slamming shut and the slightest stutter of Peter’s hips signaled the start of his orgasm – Tony leaned forward and let the cum spray into his mouth, the salty taste of it on his tongue long enough to be forever engrained in his brain.

Wiping at his face and mouth with one hand, Tony used the other to push Peter’s pliant upper body back. “You just relax – let’s see how quickly your turn around time is,” Tony muttered, his attention already moving to Peter’s long legs that were hanging over the edge of the bed. He settled a little more firmly between them and pushed them open wider with the palm of his hands. The novelty of seeing Peter completely had him looking his fill, Tony’s mouth watering with each new idea that filled his head.

No longer feeling all that patient, Tony ducked his head down and let his tongue trail down the middle of Peter’s balls, the younger man’s hips jerking up against him at the contact. The rush of air leaving Peter’s lips made Tony smile – the movement of his lips brushing the hair of his beard along the sensitive skin and drawing out another long moan.

His own body felt antsy, his cock pressed uncomfortably against the front of his pants, the throbbing length demanding attention. Ignoring it, Tony used his hands to pry Peter’s ass cheeks apart instead – the tips of both pointer fingers running teasingly over his beautifully puckered hole. The need for air hit him suddenly, his eyes widening at the deliciousness of the sight. Sucking in a breath, Tony leaned forward and let his tongue trace the same path his fingers took – the tip stopping to apply the lightest of pressure to the weak part of the muscle.

Tony let his tongue slip a little further in when Peter’s hips pressed up against him again – the impatience of the younger man more than enough to break the grip he held on the band around his control. Hungrily, he dove into the task, one of his hands keeping Peter spread while the other fumbled around until his fingers were once again wrapped around a re-awakening cock. A reckless abandon overtook him for a while, the sloppiness of his explorations more than likely shameful in any other situation.

Long fingers gripped his hair, Peter’s clench and release in perfect tandem with the thrust and brush of Tony’s tongue. Because he liked the way he rode his face, Tony let Peter press him as close as possible, the lack of oxygen secondary to the arousal that coursed through him – his entire body felt like it was about to explode.

Peter must have felt the same way, the hands that were in Tony’s hair trailed down until they were on his shoulders, his grip tight. “You should fuck me now,” Peter said, his matter-of-fact nature both surprising and awe-inspiring all in one go – Tony felt his cock pulse as the words caressed his skin. Tony hoped there’d be a surprise on the inside every time he took Peter apart.

Irritable fingers worked as fast as they could to get enough buttons of his shirt undone to pull it up and over his head – a soft sigh leaving his lips when the cool air of the room collided with his warm skin; it doused the flame a little bit and allowed him to get the rest of his clothes off. Tony wrapped his fingers in a tight fist around his cock when the great relief of his underwear hitting the ground became a reality. The couple of tugs he allowed himself were too much, Tony bit down hard into the meat of his lip to stop himself from tipping over the edge.

Crawling into bed beside Peter, Tony stopped at his bedside table to get lube and a condom – the supplies hitting the mattress without much of a second thought. “Turn onto your side,” Tony mumbled against the skin of Peter’s neck, his cock pressing into the younger man’s side where he rested for another moment. He moved just enough to let Peter turn before pressing flush against him again, his cock sliding into the crook of beautifully pert ass cheeks.

Their height difference gave Tony enough wiggle room to hick up Peter’s leg and still have access to the back of his neck to nibble and kiss as he pleased. Peter reached back and felt around until his fingers were once again tangled in Tony’s hair. “Please fuck me, Mr. Stark – I need it. I really need it – “

The incoherent babbles were like liquid fire coursing over his skin and settling into each of his pores – the burn of them felt in his very core. With that came the need to hurry, so he quickly flipped the cap of the lube open and coated 2 fingers, the tips of them pressing in without hesitation. Peter’s gasp and press back allowed Tony to slip in a little further, his knuckles resting against the soft skin of Pete’s ass easily. He locked his wrist and adjusted his grip until the tip of his fingers were bumping against Pete’s sweet spot.

“Don’t worry, Pete – I’ll take care of you. Make you cum just from my cock slamming inside of you, and then again with your legs hiked up over my shoulders.” The promise had him replacing his 2 fingers with 3, a sense of urgency rushing him through the process a little. By the time Peter felt relaxed, Tony was humping his hips forward, the occasional pulse of his cock dragging precum against the skin of Peter’s ass where it rested.

Ripping into the condom with his lube slick hand, Tony fumbled it on and down his length, the left-over lube being spread around the latex, the simple touch once again setting him on edge. Tony gripped the base of his cock to stave off the orgasm that wanted to sneak up on him, his fingers instead guiding him until his pulsing tip pressed against Peter’s rim. Without anymore preamble, Tony let his hips thrust forward, his cock finally breaching the tightness of a welcoming and excruciatingly tight hole – “fuck, you’re tight.”

Tony gripped Peter’s hip with the entirety of his hand and let his own settle, the clench of his fingers just distracting enough. He did not wait for either of them to adjust – Tony leaned forward, wrapped his hand more thoroughly in the crook of Peter’s knee, and started to thrust; his pace impatient, the idea of finally having the object of his desire guiding his actions. Peter gripped the hand on his knee, the sounds he was making delightful and filled with undeniable pleasure.

Like he promised, Tony pulled an orgasm from Peter with just the ruthless drag of his cock against a sensitive prostate. He felt driven on by the sound of his hips slamming against Peter’s muscled ass cheeks, the quiver of them sending a continuous pang of throbs down the length of his severely swollen erection. One particularly hard thrust hit Peter’s prostate dead on, his body’s reaction immediate in the way his already tight hole clenched down and surrounded in a grip that was unforgiving.

At the last possible moment, Tony pulled back and withdrew his cock, his hands working quickly to get Peter onto his back - the younger man’s cock still drooling evidence of release, his long legs pliant and easy to get on his shoulders. He got his bearings together and took a deep breath before plunging back in, the grip around him like a tight hug – a warm welcome back to a place that already felt like home.

His fingers gripped the back of Peter’s thighs, the tips of them digging in – momentarily, Tony wondered what the impressions of them would look like on the pale skin when he checked back in later. On their own accord, Tony’s hips started to pull back, the pace of his movements a little slower than before. The tease came from the way Peter clenched around him subconsciously the closer the tip of his cock came to his entrance – like it was unbearable not to have the thickness of Tony’s length filling him up.

The orgasm he’d been staving off for the past however long caught up to him – the sneakiness of it rushing through him before he could head it off again. In a desperate attempt to take Peter with him, Tony wrapped his hand around the younger man’s cock, which was now hard, and gripped it tightly; his arm moved at the same pace of his hips – fast and uncoordinated.

Tony felt Peter get off before he felt the spasm in his hand. His hole clenched so tightly around Tony’s cock that he slammed in one more time and let the rhythmic pulses pull him over. The intensity of it made him shudder; his brain with it just enough to put Peter’s legs back down on the mattress and collapse into the sweaty chest below him.

For a few minutes, Tony laid in the envelope of Peter’s arms – the younger man didn’t hesitate to wrap him up and keep him close. They were sweaty and cum covered, but there was something nice about just letting the haze of an orgasm wash over him naturally – the wave of it hitting a peak and then slowly starting to come back down. Not wanting to rush the process, Tony let his body stay heavy, the stickiness not really bothering him.

When he eventually came to, Tony rolled over and brought Peter with him. Peter’s cum was still splashed over the back of his hand and between his fingers – everywhere he touched, Tony spread it on the unblemished skin. Looking down at himself and then at Peter, Tony got a mischievous look in his eye – his cock already wanting to join the fun again.

“I think you need to lick me clean…” Tony trailed off as he raised his hand in Peter’s direction. The flash of heat in Peter’s eyes drew a moan from him.

Grinning, Tony let his fingers slip into the open and waiting mouth – Peter was insatiable and he planned to take the utmost advantage of it.

#starker #ironspider #bobbie writes #don't bother to resist #anonymous #nonnie

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misplacedxeggos · 4 years

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Warmth

request: “a wyatt fic please where he plays baseball and reader plays softball in the same school and they steal each others jerseys all the time and everyone including their coaches think theyre dating but theyre just besties until one day that changes thank you!!”

A/N: I made this a stanley fic because I don’t write about the cast. The fics on my page of the cast are written by my friend and she’s going to rewrite them into character form. Hope you enjoy either way!

words: 1.5k

—————————

You clenched your softball bat tighter as you looked out onto the field. The scoreboard showed that it was all tied up, and there were teammates on all bases. Even if you couldn’t get a home run, you just needed to get to first base as time ran down.

You hit the home base with your bat twice and brought it up in a hitting position. You watched as the pitcher wound up and released the ball.

Strike one.

You moved your arms to get looser and not focus on how well you needed to do. The pitcher wound up again and threw it underhand. You moved your softball bat forward, and the aluminum material met with the softball to fling it through the air.

You threw your bat to the ground and took off running while keeping an eye on the ball. You passed the first base and saw the ball fly over the fence. While you could’ve slowed down and walked the rest of the way, the adrenaline kicked in, causing you to speed up.

In only a couple of seconds, your team engulfed you in a group hug and bombarded you with words of praise. You took in all of the compliments and quickly took off in search for Stanley in the crowd.

You caught a glimpse of curly blond hair and before you can go look for him, you felt his arms snake around your waist from behind. He twirled you around until you twisted in his arms to face him.

“I’m so proud of you.” Stanley gushed as he pulled you into a hug.

Once you pull back you see your softball away jersey.

You tug on the shoulder material, “This is theft.”

“Pretty sure you gave it to me,” Stanley commented with his arms still laying on your waist.

“Okay, lovebirds break it up. I wanna hug too.” Richie pulled you away from Stan and into him.

You rolled your eyes as you were used to Richie constantly trying to get you to tell him that you and Stan were together. You wished you could tell him what he wanted but it didn’t seem to be in your favor yet.

You were oblivious as to how Stan’s eyes lit up when you entered a room and how he always insisted on greeting you first. It seemed like second nature now to sit on his lap when there weren’t any open seats and whisper comments in his ear to make him laugh.

God his laugh was music to your ears.

After pulling back from Richie’s arms you went over to your rightful place next to Stanley.

“Party at my house!” One of your teammates yelled in the middle of the field.

“After I change can you drive me?” You looked up at Stan.

He gave you a small nod along with a smile. You went into the locker rooms and went to take a quick rinse-off shower. Afterwards, you pulled out Stanley’s home baseball jersey and loosely tucked it into a skirt.

“I see you’re still denying you like him.” You teammate commented while changing.

“And I see you’re still poking your nose in other people’s business.” You fired back while gathering up your items.

You didn’t want other people’s opinions on yours and Stanley’s relationship. You worried that if too many people commented that they thought you were together then he would be repulsed by the idea of you.

“My god, could you have taken any longer?” Stanley teased as you got into his truck.

“You don’t want me to stink up your truck do you?”

“I don’t think a shower fixed that.”

You playfully laughed and hit his shoulder in retaliation. Your brain glazed over and didn’t take in the slight blush that spread across his cheeks when he saw you in his jersey. You simply thought that he had got too much sun that evening watching your game.

Songs on the radio softy played in the background as you looked out the window and admired the small town scenery of Derry. Occasionally you would hear Stanley either mumble along with the song or softly sing. After a while of trying to find parking on the crowded street and finally deciding to park at the park then walking, you had made it to the party.

People started to shout your name as soon as you passed through the threshold. A wave of people pulled you away from Stanley and straight onto the dance floor. Stanley went to go get you a drink since you knew that though you were somewhat of a people person you could get overwhelmed easily.

When he came back to the living room where the makeshift dance floor was, he found you swaying to the music and admired how carefree you looked. Of course, Richie had to find Stan staring at you and make fun of him.

“Oh don’t worry a lot of good is going to happen tonight.” Richie winked at Stan and made his way to the punch bowl for the third time that night.

Stan had gotten used to brushing off things Richie said under the influence and just on a normal day to day basis, but for some reason, he couldn’t help to think of what he had meant. He didn’t have to think for long as Richie had made his way to you on the dance floor and started to pull you to where Stan was.

“Y/n, do you have something to say to mister Stan the Man?” Richie slurred out as he looked expectantly to you while you reached out to take your drink from Stan’s hand.

“Um, thanks for the drink?” Your thanks came out more of a question as you didn’t quite know what Richie was going on about.

“Come on Y/n you can do better than that, just tell him what you told me last Monday during math, about what you really think of him.” Richie gave you a knowing smirk and waited.

Your eyes grew in realisation to what Richie was talking about. During the boring lecture in math, he asked you what you thought about all the losers. You had stupidly thought that Richie was too hungover and stoned to remember anything that had happened that day, so you confessed your feelings for Stanley. You let out everything you had been thinking for years.

That you felt like you were floating on air around him, he felt at home with him, a certain warmth of comfort spread through your chest seeing him and that you couldn’t grow a pair and ask him out.

You let out an uneasy laugh and disregarded what Richie just said. You prayed that he wouldn’t bring it up the rest of the party and he didn’t. Through the whole game of truth or dare, he avoided asking you about it but still had a light in his eyes that said he could whenever he wanted to.

You were tense for the rest of the party and decided to leave early. When you told Stan this he got out of the conversation he was in with Bill and told you he would take you home.

An awkward presence that you had never felt with Stan was very apparent the whole drive to your house. Stanley was scared that you were suddenly going to come out and say that you didn’t want to be friends anymore. He had thought about this almost as much as you saying that you had feelings for him.

He would go back and forth in his mind about how you would react if he asked you out. Seventy-five percent of the time you rejected him and the other twenty-five percent you agreed to go out.

While he was in his head that you were going to dump his friendship on the curb, you were swamped in thoughts that he would ask you about what Richie had said. If he did what were you going to say? You could come out and say the truth to finally get it off your chest or you could deny it and potentially hurt your closest friend.

Stan parked his car in front of your house and sucked in a deep breath. You both tried to talk at the same time and after a few awkward hand gestures, you both decided that you would talk first.

“So hypothetically speaking, would you ever date a close friend? Cause I think that I would and I didn’t know if that was normal or if it mattered on the situation you were in or-”

Stanley cut you off with a short and soft kiss.

“So you’re not into Bev?” You joked as Stanley leaned forward for another kiss.

“Man you are oblivious.” Stan chuckled.

You had Richie to thank for bringing up Monday math class and the fact that you had met the perfect guy that always made you smile and feel warm throughout.

————————

taglist: @fiantomartell

#stanley uris #stanley uris imagine #stanley uris x reader #it #it movie #it2017 #wyatt oleff #stan uris #stan uris imagine #stan uris x reader

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mrhrmrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr · 3 years

Text

lmao

uh idk tw: panic/anxiety attacks, mental health n stuff ig? under the cut

throwback to the time i had anxiety attacks/panic attacks during school when we went back part time at the end of the year

1st one was 1st week back, the entire day was anxious, sensory overload was hitting hard and i was trying to just make it till the end of the day, (3 hours a day then), but then there was a fire drill and it was so loud bc it went off right next to where i was, so when i got back to the class after it, had to take a couple minutes outside bc of sensory overload and stuff.

after that every thursday friday had 1-2, mostly fridays when i had pe, it was my 5th class, and we had to wear masks when doing it, so every pe class i had an anxiety attack because of not being able to breath clearly due to the mask-

even more fun- pe 2 weeks till end of school in pe we played a game called “graveyard dodgeball”, turn the lights all out and we let our eyes adjust before playing dodgeball all v all (class of 8 people). thought i would be fine bc i’m not afraid of the dark, but

had a panic attack because not only could i not breathe, i couldn’t see well, and people were throwing them harder than they needed to bc they couldn’t see well either. teacher let me chill outside for a bit.

another one was in math class, final class of the day, friday, right after pe so I was always pretty pooped after. was never able to focus bc my brain wouldn’t process any words on paper, or really spoken to me too. got frustrated because everyone was working fine ( we were doing this weird skavenger hunt thing where we solve a question, find the paper with the answer then solve the question on that paper) so i was working alone bc i didn’t want to slow anyone down/didn’t know anyone well in that class.

teacher had to help me a lot bc i was missing important numbers that changed my answer a lot, after class i apologized to my teacher ( literally crying bc i was so frustrated and tired, i’m actually good at math too, I take a harder class which made me feel worse bc we weren’t doing anything new, and i knew how to do it I just couldn’t).

and then i got locked out of the band room so i had to go get the janitor to help me get my instrument, mean while i’m starting to panic because i remembe- shit need to text my mom and tell her i won’t be home right away bc i have to do all this.

time skip couple minutes, texted my mom, got my instrument and was walking home, while hypervenlisting (ik fun right), then went home and had a a little panic attack and then a couple hours later, another one (bigger) even more fun!

those were all hyper venilatin, crying kinds, didn’t even mention the ones where i was visibly calm on the outside, zoning out n stuff like that during classes.

idk what i’m gonna do when we go back in the fall.

sorry for dumping here, its been on my mind

#tw: panic attack #mental health #tw: anxiety attack

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duckseamail · 3 years

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Break It - a short story

Here’s the short story I wrote for my english class!!! It’s about 2.5 k words, and kinda sad (it has a nice ending though!!!). I’m really happy with how it turned out, and would love any feedback!

Winona’s bangs are plastered to her forehead, rainwater sprinting its way past her eyes and over her lips. Her shoes slap on the saturated gray pavement.

Half a block away, she can see the faint glow of the porch lights from her apartment building. She grabs the edges of her raincoat tightly, hoping it's still wholly spread over her backpack, and sprints through the puddles and up to the front walk. Unfortunately, her face is assaulted with a smack by the large, unkempt bush that she can avoid on a good day.

With a fierce kick at the stoop, Winona pushes into the small entryway.

She makes her way through the second pair of doors and goes to the stairwell. With a sigh, she starts the trek up to the seventh floor.

When she reaches her floor, she crinkles her nose in disgust. The thin carpet is thoroughly soaked and gathering little puddles of muddy water from all the people who have been coming in during the late afternoon downpour.

She gets to her door and puts the key in the lock. It sticks a few times before finally, with much cursing and trying to force the locked door open, the locking mechanism catches and smoothly turns. Winona glares at the key as she pulls it out and enters her home.

“Yeah...yeah, waiting for the rain to clear out next week sounds do-able.” A voice coming from the kitchen says.

Winona slips her soggy tennis shoes off and into the wicker basket by the door. She should ask her mom to take her to get some new rainboots soon.

“I actually did have a couple questions about the burial to ask you, Mr. Moro.”

Winona is about to hop past the square of harsh white light illuminating the hall when an arm shoots out in front of her. Busted. Mom is still on the phone with Mr. Moro, but the way her mouth is pursed conveys the “stay there and wait for a conversation” perfectly fine without words.

Mom walks around the small kitchen as she talks. She grabs a large, pink and green mug from the rack next to the sink. Winona watches as she takes out the ceramic jar labeled “calm” in a flowing cursive script and places a teabag from it into the empty mug.

“Thanks again for your time; I’ll call you soon.” Mom hangs up. Neither of them says anything.

The high, screaming whistle of the teakettle breaks the momentary silence.

Winona wishes she’d had time to change out of her wet clothes before having this conversation. The cold and sticky feeling of the bottoms of her jeans clinging to her ankles is almost as bad as the fact that her socks are basically little swimming pools. Rivulets from her hair drip over her ears and down her neck, soaking into the shirt collar.

“I got an email from your math teacher this afternoon,” Mom says

Winona ignores the insinuation that she should be explaining herself about now and asks, “What did it say?”

Her Mom’s hands tighten around her mug, and an angry flush breaks out high on her cheekbones. She seems to be so overcome that she can’t speak, so Winona unzips her dry backpack and pulls out the failed test and hopes it will explain itself and she can leave.

“Here,” she says, handing it over.

Mom sets down her mug with a dull thunk and takes the papers.

After a minute spent flipping through them, she says, “You said you spent all of last weekend studying for this.” Mom brings a hand up and rubs across her forehead that’s lined with tired wrinkles and fixes Winona with a disappointed sort of glare.

“Yeah, well. I tried for a bit. But it’s not like anyone else cared about this test either, okay?” Winona says flippantly. She bites the edge of her hair, then continues speaking around it. “It just wasn’t the sort of test you’re supposed to study for.”

“What do you mean the sort of test you don’t study for?!” Mom asks incredulously. Her voice is creeping up, louder and louder. “You need to take responsibility. What would your grandma have to say about this if she were here?”

“ I am taking responsibility!” Winona shouts, her hair falling entirely out of her mouth and smacking her jaw.

“Obviously, you’re NOT!”

“You don’t even know how to organize a funeral! How can you talk about responsibility?” Winona yells back. All of a sudden, the frustration in her mom’s brown eyes freezes over.

“Just. Just go.” Mom says, seething. She turns her back and dumps her over-steeped tea into the sink.

Rage at this icy dismissal floods through Winona’s blood and exits in a strangled roar. Before Mom can say anything back, she spins on her heel, storms out of the kitchen, down the short hall, and into her bedroom.

Winona grips her heavy wooden door with as much strength as she can muster and slams it closed.

“WE DON'T SLAM DOORS IN THIS HOUSE!” Mom shrieks from where Winona left her in the kitchen.

“I DON’T CARE!”

Her ears ring, and she flicks the overhead light on, only to turn it back off immediately. Though the anger simmering in her body is no longer boiling over, the bright light is too cheerful. The lightning that flashes through the window, however, is perfect.

Balling her hands up, Winona thrusts them under her arms in a half-pout half-hug and paces in circles. “This isn’t even a house. It’s an apartment.” She mutters snarkily to herself. She considers opening the door to send the comment her mom’s way but decides to keep stewing on it. She can come up with something better.

On her fifth lap around, her eyes catch on her grandmother's glass figurine, sitting primly on her cluttered desk.

It’s of a young woman lying back on a log, propping herself up on her elbows. Her tiny glass face looks up with a beautiful expression of wonder; the clear eyes seem to see everything and hold infinite wisdom. They’re surrounded by minuscule eyelashes that look too fluffy to be glass. The woman’s smooth glass lips are parted like she’s just seen something she needs to share immediately (more than once throughout her life, Winona had spoken to it in the hopes that maybe one day it would talk back). The woman’s hair is long and curls gently, sitting lightly over the figure’s shoulders and bouncing a few centimeters above the top of the log.

But Winona’s favorite thing about the glass figurine isn’t her face. It’s the sloping curves of the carved dress. It folds softly down to the ankles, each sweep lined with small creases, and the hem is covered in miniature flowers. The back fabric of the dress drapes over the log's rough ridges in a fantastic clash of textures. The sense of fluidity changing into firm resolve, the cracks and knots carved into the log holding strong. It knows exactly what it is; no room for doubts. It’s a log, each uncountable twist and turn working together to hold up the woman on top of it.

It’s fitting, though, because Winona’s Grandma Helen had gotten it the day she graduated college. Winona had been told the story of her family’s most prized possession many times. It was her favorite thing to do as a kid when Grandma came to visit. She and Mom would take turns telling the story, and when it was done, Winona always begged to hear it again.

Winona’s great-grandfather had been an extremely old-fashioned man and hadn’t been willing to help send her grandma to college. It had caused a massive fight between them that ended with Grandma leaving and vowing to only come back with a diploma in hand.

So, she’d left and spent the time working towards a degree in American history.

On the day of Helen’s graduation, she’d gone home to see her parents. Now, Grandma had kept in contact with her mother, but just like she had promised, this was Helen’s first time in years seeing her father again.

He’d been sad and apologetic, begging for his daughter’s forgiveness. Apparently, there had been tears shed on both sides. And, of course, Grandma had missed her father desperately, and once she received an apology, she was quick to forgive him.

But an apology wasn't all Grandma had received. Her father also wished to congratulate her on her achievement in college. So he'd commissioned an artist to create a glass figurine of a young woman lounging on a log, looking ahead to the possibilities before her. It was based on a picture he had of Helen just before their fight, which made it all the more special.

Then, when Mom was a little kid, Grandma had given it to her. Mom brought it with her to every place she’d ever lived.

And finally, after a childhood spent pestering about when it would finally be her turn, Winona was given it for her sixteenth birthday just over seven months ago.

Winona snaps from the torrent of memories to thunder booming. She takes a few steps up to her desk and runs her fingertips over the skirt of the dress.

Mom often comes into Winona’s room just to sit and look at it for a while - never touching - a habit that’s increased in the past few weeks since Grandma died.

She must find it comforting.

The thought of her mother feeling anything but sadness and pain swirls her remaining anger into a tempest. She wants her mom to hurt, to regret what she said about the stupid test.

Her head and her heart ache, and she wants her mom to feel that.

So, Winona wraps her hand around the glass figure and picks it up.

It’s surprisingly heavy for how delicate it looks, but Winona pitches for softball in the spring and has a good arm. She faces the plain door that Mom had just yelled at her about slamming and takes aim.

One of the ridges on the log catches against her palm as the figurine launches into the air. She doesn’t feel the cut, though.

The figurine tumbles over and over in the six feet it has to travel to hit the door, glinting a bit in the dark room. Adrenaline rushes through Winona’s brain, and with a crash, it collides.

The log bursts apart, tiny glass crystals falling like snow to the carpet. The young woman’s head breaks off and drops down in three chipped and scratched pieces. The body, surprisingly, is comparatively intact. The arms are gone, shattered among the carpet fibers; the dress's light folds are broken off, and there are deep cracks along the front. There is a large chunk missing from the upper back where the shoulders used to be. But, when Winona looks at where the body of the figurine rests, she can tell that it had once portrayed someone sitting.

And for a moment, standing and looking over the wreckage, calm and satisfaction is all she feels.

Then, the reality sinks in. Her mom’s, her grandma’s, her most special possession is gone. Winona broke it, and from the way it’s spread out over the floor, it can’t be fixed.

It feels like all the air has been knocked out of her. Winona opens her mouth, but she can’t tell if any sound comes out. It’s like all her senses are covered in a staticky fuzz.

Suddenly, her bedroom door flings open, knocking aside some of the larger pieces of glass.

“Are you okay? What hap-” Mom cuts herself off abruptly, and Winona wrenches her gaze up from the floor.

Mom’s eyes are fixed at her feet. Her mouth wobbles around words that die before making it out. Winona watches the tears drip down her mother’s cheeks, and everything feels terribly wrong. This shouldn’t be happening.

“Mom,” Her throat clenches, stopping her. She tries again. “Mommy, I- I didn’t mean- I’m-”

Her mom turns and leaves the room. The door is still wide open, and light from the hallway dances among the shards.

Winona finally notices her own sobbing. She isn’t sure how she missed it before because everything about her face feels wet. Her eyelashes are clumpy, and there is no break in the water streaming down her face. It goes past her nose, collecting snot on the way, and then parts. Some tears fall off her chin, and others collect in her mouth, coating her tongue with the taste of salt.

Slowly, she takes a blanket from her bed and curls up under it on the floor. Wiping her nose with her sleeve, Winona waits for the crying to stop.

-----------------

She wakes up to a pounding headache and a hand softly shaking her shoulder. Winona shifts the blanket off her face and sees Mom peering down at her.

Arms carefully reach around Winona’s shoulders and lift her so that she’s perched on the edge of her bed. Her clothes are removed and replaced with warm, dry pajamas. They’re the fluffy, purple polka-dotted ones - her favorite.

A plastic cup of water is pressed into her hands, and she takes grateful gulps of it ‘till the cup is empty.

The bathroom sink across from her room turns on, and Winona realizes her mom has left again. It’s only briefly, however, and Mom comes back with a wet washcloth in hand.

Winona takes it when it’s held out and rubs the sticky, overwhelming feeling of dry tears off her face. The water is warm and soothing, and even after she's clean, she takes an extra moment to press the cloth to her worn-out eyes.

She hands it back, and Mom places it on the bedside table before taking Winona’s right hand in hers. Winona wonders why she’s doing this when she notices a sharp red line crossing most of her palm. A throbbing heat is building there, but quick as a flash, her mom wipes a soaked cotton pad over it and then rubs on a layer of cooling antiseptic. Lastly, she places two large bandages over the entirety of Winona’s palm. Then, Mom helps her stand up.

Walking across the room into the now dark hallway, she realizes all the glass on the floor is gone. Mom must have taken the time to thoroughly clean up every last shard and speck while she was sleeping. Winona isn’t sure why, but as she’s walked over to her mom’s bedroom, she wishes she had been able to clean it up. It was her mess, after all.

But, her brain is moving too slowly to think up the words to best express that out loud, and moments later, she’s being herded onto one side of her mom’s bed.

The digital clock blinks at her. It’s 9:53 at night. Mom tucks the covers securely around Winona’s shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, Nony. We’ll fix things in the morning, okay?” Mom’s voice is hoarse when she says this, but the time for thinking is over now. Winona nods her head sleepily in reply and closes her eyes for the night.

#my writing #short story #fiction #angst #hurt/comfort #original writing

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jamielea81 · 5 years

Text

Homecoming

A/N: This is for @xxloki81xx 200+ celebration. Congrats again love! This one shot was written with the above moodboard in mind.

Description: You have dreamed of a life away from your hometown. After moving across the country for college, you realize that home is where you belong.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader Various others x Reader (platonic)

Warning: Feels. A boyfriend getting handys, but nothing extreme.

Word count: 3,600+

Time is a funny thing. The years slipped by fast, but at the same time, they dragged on, as did you. It was time to admit defeat. Time to pick yourself up and accept the help that had been offered over and over again. You were never one to willing give up. Nor were you the one to easily accept that people loved you. That no matter what, you can’t push away family. Especially the ones that choose to be your family.

Milford Springs is where you were born and raised until you left the mid-sized town after high school. You studied hard, applied for every scholarship known in existence, and said goodbye to your mom, brother, and the friends you had known all your life. Including Steve.

Steve wasn’t always your friend and he wasn’t always the love of your life. All through elementary school and junior high, he was kind of your enemy, except, he didn’t know it. He was always on the small size, but his personality was big. Always getting into fights and preaching right from wrong. You hated that. Hated it because you weren’t perfect and he made you feel even worse. He was friends with your brother despite your brother being a year older than the two of you. Your brother was perfect, still is. The son that could do no wrong, your mother’s favorite even if she did deny it. The two of them always seemed to be on a crusade and didn’t want anything to do with the likes of you when they were together. You were the one getting into trouble in class for talking and gossiping. Natasha was the bad influence, although she always seemed to side step any punishments that were being handed out.

It was sophomore year in high school when you learned that you no longer despised Steve. Natasha and Bruce were on a double date with you and Brock. It was technically only your second date with Brock despite knowing him for the last few years and hanging out with him in group situations. After watching your football team lose horribly in their season opener, the four of you decided to grab a late night bite at Rosco’s Diner. It was always a popular spot, being located only a few blocks from your high school. Plus, they had great milkshakes.

Natasha and Bruce had just finished their burgers and were getting ready to leave.

“My dad changed my curfew, I’ve got to split,” Natasha said.

“Naaaattt,” you whined. “Don’t leave me.”

“Bruce has been keeping me out too late,” she wiggled her eyebrows. “Dad’s been cracking down on me getting home before midnight on weekends.” She shrugs her shoulders and pushes Bruce out of the booth.

“Me? Keeping you out? I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around,” Bruce said. He throws his arm around her shoulder and pulls her close.

They are so cute.

“Fine, fine. Go home. Call me tomorrow,” you grumbled.

Brock stuck out his hand and Bruce shook it. You and Brock chuckled as he was clearly going for a high five.

“Night guys,” Brock said.

Your milkshake arrived a few minutes later and you eagerly dug in, using the spoon because it was far too thick at that moment to drink with the straw.

“Slow down, babe. You don’t want to get a stomach,” he says, nudging your side with his elbow.

“Gee, thanks, Brock,” you sassed, taking another large spoonful of ice cream goodness. Brain freeze be damned!

You already weren’t the most confident person, but to hear the guy you’re interested in say that, it hurt.

When the inevitable brain freeze did happen, you pushed the glass away, to allow it to melt a bit. Brock put his arm over your shoulder and pulled you until you were snug against his side, kissing the top of your head. After his comment about your stomach, you weren’t into the affection he was offering. You attempted to pull away, but his firm grasp wasn’t leaving any room. He curved further into you where there was zero space. With his free hand, he cradled your chin and pulled it to him into a kiss. As soon as his lips touched yours, you moved your face away.

“Knock it off Brock, I’m not in the mood.”

It wasn’t your first kiss with him, no, he eagerly kissed you outside your house on your first date. That one had been exciting. Brock was a senior and pretty popular in school. The fact that he wanted to kiss you, just an average sophomore, set your world a blaze.

Ignoring your request, he leaned in further nuzzling your ear, keeping you close with his arm around your shoulder. You pulled your head to the side to get out of his reach, but that only gave him more access. With his free hand, he trailed his fingers under the hem of your t-shirt, skimming your stomach.

You slapped his hand away. “Stop. Brock, I said stop!”

With a little momentum, you were able to shove off of him and push him to the end of the bench.

Enter one, Steve Rogers.

“I think the lady said stop,” Steve said.

“Get out of here Rogers. Mind your business,” Brock snarled.

Brock had a few inches on Steve in both height and size, so it was a good thing Brock was still seated. Before Brock could utter another word, Steve socked him right in the nose. Blood trailed down his face. Brock grabbed napkins from the table and covered his face.

“You’re dead Rogers!” he roared.

Thinking fast, you grabbed your milkshake and dumped it on Brock’s head and then proceeded to push him out of the booth. Now the entire restaurant was watching with fellow classmates laughing.

“Were done!” he said, pointing a stiff finger at you. “And you’re still dead, Rogers.”

Brock stomps his way out of the restaurant and all you can do is laugh. Steve takes one look at you and changes his angry face to one with a smile. After your giggles subside, he holds his hand out for you to grab. You get to your feet and contemplate calling your brother for a ride. You don’t live far, but the thought of walking home alone is a little unsettling.

“How about I buy you another milkshake and then walk you home, doll?”

Heat instantly rises to your face and by the dopey look on his face, you know he can see it too. Rather than risk saying something stupid, you bite your lip and nod your head.

Over the next few weeks, you fell head over heels for Steve and he with you. Steve was your everything that year, your first make out, your first over the clothes touching, under the clothes touching, and the first person you had sex with.

The two of you waited until school was out for summer before taking that next step. You were going away at the end of June through the end of August to a math and science camp for elementary aged kids. Neither subject was your favorite, but you did well enough in both classes that you applied for the minimum wage job figuring it would look good on your college applications. As much as you loved Steve, you still wanted to get out of Milford Springs.

The time away was hard and you often spent hours at night crying because it was your decision to leave. Steve wrote you letters twice a week and you responded to every one of them. He told you about life at home. How your brother liked having his friend again and how Bucky often felt like the third wheel. He told you about Natasha and Bruce still being the old couple of the group and the new kids, Wanda and Pietro who had just moved to town. You missed home quiet a bit, but really you just missed him.

Coming home from camp was both a blessing and a little heartbreaking. You and your mom had never really gotten along. You often blamed yourself as the reason why your dad left. You had heard from other relatives by accident that your parents wanted to wait a few years to have another child after your brother was born. And while it wasn’t your fault you existed, you still felt like it was. Your brother had talked about what a great summer he had and how light hearted your mother had been. Except now that you were home, you couldn’t help but notice her sullen mood. Money had always been hard growing up, and you supposed having only one other mouth to feed over the summer had helped that burden. Now here you were in need of new clothes and spending money for school. You did what you could to help that burden by often eating at friend’s houses, working as much as you could by babysitting in junior high, getting a job at the diner shortly after turning sixteen, and the summer camp this summer.

Shortly after junior year had started, you quickly became friends with both Wanda and Pietro. Wanda easily fit in with you and Natasha. The three of you going to each other’s houses when the boys were together. Much to Steve’s dismay, Pietro often joined the three of you. You had assured Steve that there were no feelings there and that it was probably a twin thing that made Pietro want to hangout with the three of you.

The diner was only able to give you hours twice a week, three times if you were lucky. The lack of hours allowed you to spend time with Steve as well as your group of friends that was ever expanding. It seemed to always be you, Steve, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Bruce, Wanda, Pietro, and Maria hanging out for hours in someone’s backyard after school. Sometimes your brother would join your group, but being a senior this year, he often spent time with his own friends.

Your rather large group of friends had been through a lot together. Wanda and Pietro’s parents divorced in the middle of junior year and there was a time they were worried about being split up with each living with one parent. That didn’t happen, but that fear lasted almost a year while the divorce was in process, especially when their mom moved thirty miles away. Maria and Sam got together at the end of junior year and were off and on all summer. It often split the group during their off time, but it never had a lasting effect. By the time classes were back in session, they were friends again and it stayed that way. Natasha and Bruce broke up for a very long four month period senior year, only to get back together right before graduation.

Through all the ups and downs of those formative high school years, Steve was your constant. The two of you had several deep conversations in the months leading up to graduation. You had gotten a few scholarships that would cover most of your college years, but they would bring you to California. Steve was joining the Army and would be starting basic training in June. The two of you were going your separate ways. There were no promises of writing or calling. There were no hopes shared of being together over summers or even when college was done. You loved each other and didn’t want to break each other’s hearts if those promises weren’t kept. The night before he left, he spent the night in your room. The two of you making love, holding each other, sharing memories, and falling asleep in each other’s arms.

You were flying out to California with nothing more than two suitcases of clothes. You planned to find a Target or Walmart when you got there to purchase bedding and things like shampoo and body wash. Most of the money you saved was used for your airline ticket as well as transportation to your university. Of course, you had additional funds to help with the cost of food and things you would need throughout the year. You planned on getting a job on campus to keep that savings fund going. You and the girls spent the weekend together at Natasha’s house pigging out on pizza and popcorn. They talked about flying out to the West Coast in search of movie stars and a nice tan, but you didn’t get your hopes up. All of them were staying in your home town, a few going to the nearby state college or community college in town. It was expensive to fly across the country and the fact that you would have a roommate meant they wouldn’t be able to stay with you.

Sam drove you to the airport. The two of you had become close over the last year and he was the first to volunteer. He knew that Steve wouldn’t be in town and he wanted to make sure you had someone strong to say goodbye to. While you were happy that your goal of going to college out of state and somewhere warmer was coming true, you cried. You were never more thankful that Sam Wilson was there to hold you together and tell you to wipe your nose before going to the check-in counter.

During your junior year of college your brother had called you late in the night. His voice quivered and he could barely make it through the call. Your mom had passed away in the middle of the night. The doctors said it was a heart attack. You were numb.

You found a cheap flight, a middle seat, for the next night. You e-mailed all of your professors to explain why you would be missing class for a week and a half and they understood, promising to e-mail you assignments and send you notes.

You didn’t cry when your brother picked you up from the airport, nor did you cry when you went to your childhood home to clean it out. Your mom had been renting it for years and although the landlord understood, he needed to put the place back on the market within a month. Most items were bagged up for trash and a few boxed up for your brother to store in his garage until you could retrieve them.

The nights leading up to the funeral were spent thinking about your mom. How you wished that you and her could have been closer. How you wished you would have told her you loved her more. How you wished that you would have listened to her when she begged you to come home the last three Christmases and summers. But still no tears.

The day before the funeral, Natasha had stormed into the house. Fiery red hair pulled back into a messy bun, eye makeup smudge. She was upset that you hadn’t called her when you got to town. Rightfully so as she had left you numerous messages, but you just couldn’t return them. Despite her anger, she took one look at you and wrapped her arms around you. It was only then that the emotion you held inside was released. A sob broke from your body that you didn’t even recognize the sound of. But it was you. She held you in her arms and encouraged you to cry, telling you that she would yell at you later, but now wasn’t the time.

The rest of the gang funneled in throughout the day bringing pizza and beer. Well, everyone but Steve. Wanda told you he was in town on leave, but he had a girlfriend now and figured it wasn’t right to stop by. Your heart of crushed. You knew he would eventually move on, the two of you making no promises of waiting. Even you had dated over the last three years. Nothing serious, but there had been a few men that had kept you company from time to time. But he didn’t come.

With Bucky’s well-placed threats, Steve did show up to the funeral, sans girlfriend. He didn’t speak to you before the service, but pulled you into a hug at the small reception after. Steve Rogers had changed. He was taller than you remembered and certainly had gained pounds of muscle. But those blue eyes were the same and it took everything in you not to breakdown at the sight of them. With soft spoken words of “I’m sorry”, followed by whispers of “I miss you”, you pulled away from him offering nothing but a thank you and a tight smile.

Back in California you finished out your junior and senior year with a few more phone calls to Natasha and some of the gang, but you were still distant. You didn’t hear from Steve again, but you also didn’t reach out. He had a girlfriend. Contacting him would only break your heart more.

After graduation, you accepted a job at an advertising firm. It’s what you’ve always dreamed of. You and Natasha would spend hours talking about what you’d be when you grew up and now that you finally had, you felt like you had no one to share that with. Even though the two of you still spoke, it had become harder to connect. She had a job of her own as well as Bruce.

The job you accepted was for an assistant with promises of a quick promotion of having your own accounts and working directly with a team. The first year you took in stride. Most of your days were spent on errands, proof reading, and making appointments. The job paid the bills and then some, but it wasn’t fulfilling.

One year turned into two and it wasn’t getting any better. You knew you were stuck, but you didn’t know how to get out.

Over those first couple of years, Natasha and Bruce got married but you couldn’t getaway from work to make it back to the East Coast. Part of you knew you didn’t try hard enough. Wanda had gotten married to Sam Wilson of all people, but you missed that wedding too. Bucky had a baby boy with a girlfriend he started seeing shortly after your mom had passed. You always sent a card and gift for these life moments, but it wasn’t enough. You missed your family.

When the third year of being a glorified assistant at the advertising firm was more than half over, you had enough. You called your brother who was still as painfully single as yourself and asked if you could come home. He called you stupid for even asking and told you to get your butt home. Lucky for you, your landlord agreed to let you out of your lease.

Giving your two weeks’ notice never felt so satisfying. You sold your furniture and boxed up the items you wanted to keep to have them shipped to your brother’s house. It took you seven days to drive home, stopping when you were tired or just needed a break from the road. You didn’t tell anyone you were coming back, mostly embarrassed that you failed in your endeavors. But you should have known your brother wasn’t quite so secretive.

You called him when you were a few hours away to make sure he’d be home because all you wanted to do was sleep in his spare room. Pulling into his driveway, you were suspicious to see so many cars in the driveway and along the street in front of his house. Grabbing just your backpack, figuring you could grab the rest of your stuff later, you made your way up the walk and knocked on the door. The door opened quickly and you were pulled in by the petite redhead with a swollen belly rather than the lanky arms of your brother.

“What?!” you screeched.

“I could say the same for you. Maybe call me back a little more.”

You bashfully nodded your head and wrapped your arms around her.

“I’m glad you’re home. Couldn’t have you being out of state when your God Daughter is born.”

And just like that, you were crying. “Are you sure?” you sobbed, still embraced in a hug.

She pulled back and looked you in the eyes. “You’re family and we’re glad your home.”

Natasha smacked your butt and you yelped, proceeding to climb the stairs.

Everyone was in the living room with a few in the kitchen. You were passed from Bucky, to Wanda, to Maria, to Bruce, to Pietro, to your brother who took your bag, to Sam who held on to you a bit longer than the rest. When you tried to pull away for the 3rd time, he stopped you, and leaned into your ear.

“Steve’s here. He’s in the kitchen.”

Your heart stopped and you couldn’t speak. You shook your head no and tried to figure out if you could escape to your new room without him seeing you.

“He broke up with that girlfriend shortly after your mom’s funeral. I don’t think he’s been with anyone serious since. You should talk to him.”

“Sam, I don’t know,” you replied, shaking your head again.

“Even if nothing comes of this, your both family and I want my family to be able to be in the same room.”

You sighed and nodded. He was right. Sam squeezed your shoulder as you made your way into the kitchen. Steve sat at the island with a beer bottle in his hand.

“Hey,” you said.

He quickly lifted his head, bright eyes on display and a dopey grin. You missed him so much.

“Where’ve you been? Feel like you’ve been away too long,” he teases.

Steve stands and takes the three steps it takes to get to you. Hesitantly you reach for him and it takes him no time to accept your embrace. You pull back with your arms still on his waist.

“You know, I think I’ve found my way home.”

Forevers tag: @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob @patzammit @heartislubbingdubbing @collinsstanharbour @twittytelly @thefandomzoneisdangerous @linki-locks11 @mywinterwolf @ab-baybay @rda1989

#xxlokixx200celebration #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #marvel au #marvel imagine #Avengers #avengers au #natasha romanoff #wanda maximov #sam wilson #bucky barnes

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