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astrolo-t · 2 years

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Fun & Games

Pairing: Ellie x Reader

Word Count: 3k~

Warnings: MDNI!!!, Cursing, Smutty smut smut, Fingering, Oral, Ellie Receiving, Very mouthy reader, ummm ya :D

A/N: Will probably rewrite later but! I promised myself I would post this today.

What had happened was....I read this very nasty sapphic book, Tryst Six Venom, and I could not stop imagining reader and Modern AU!Ellie in this very predicament of hatred fueled by sexual tension. I know nothing about lacrosse so everything is super vague in that regard…but none of us are here for accurate lacrosse vocabulary :) This is nasty so enjoy that <3

It wasn’t your team's first loss, and it wouldn’t be your last. Part of being a good team captain for the lacrosse team was making sure they understood that fact, while also making sure they understood where they went wrong so you could avoid it happening again. During your team meeting after the game, you point out things you’d noticed while out on the field, things you all could improve upon. Truthfully, everyone could’ve been better, including yourself. Knowing this, you don’t make the effort to single anyone out.

Well, no one except her.

“And Ellie?” You start sweetly, “Tonight was unacceptable. Your position isn’t permanent. Remember that.”

And with that you continue talking to the rest of the girls, your seed planted and growing rapidly. Out of the corner of your eyes you can see Ellie’s eyes have narrowed, looking at you with unbridled rage from her place on a bench in the corner of the locker room. You finish your pep talk, and dismiss the rest of the girls. After they’ve filed out of the locker room Ellie’s glare intensifies, her eyes on you, absolutely seething. Just how you wanted her. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“We all make mistakes, Ellie.” You offer with a shrug, feigning disinterest, “Just gotta own it.” You make quick work of packing up your bag, and though you pretended to be the perfect picture of unbothered, truly you were relishing in how easy it was to get her riled up.

“No you made a mistake. It was a bad. fucking. play.” Ellie growls out, “You fucked it up Captain - plain and simple.”

You cock your head to one side and briefly pretend to ponder this. Well, she was right, of course. But you’d never admit that. Why would you, when it was so fun watching her get worked up like this? She’s still sweating from running up and down the field, and the cut of the uniform allows you the tiniest peek at her collarbones. Half of her hair is pulled into the messiest bun as per usual and several strands of her hair cling to the side of her face and forehead. Her green eyes are dark, clouded with rage and hatred and you’d be damned if she ever looked at anyone else like this. No, this look was just for you. “Are you kidding? Sweetie, you hogged the ball and then froze at the last second. Choked up as per fucking usual. ”

Ellie huffs out a breath and you can see her trying not to lose her shit. If she can tell that you’re goading her, she doesn’t say so, at least not yet. Instead, she simply gets up and slings her backpack over one shoulder and for a moment you think you’ve lost her. Despite your inner panic, you offer her a bright smile as she stalks toward you. Just as she’s about to walk past, she leans down until her mouth is level with your ear and says with complete confidence, “You’re so delusional and so fucking desperate for my attention, it’s sad.”

Your smile fades as you flinch away from her, meeting her eyes with a steely gaze you scoff, “Don't flatter yourself, I have no interest in an always stoned, future washed-up athlete and college dropout.”

Ellie makes a face as if she’s contemplating that information. “Pretty good. How about this - I have no interest in a stuck up, repressed bitch.”

Your hands move before you even register that they had, and soon you have Ellie backed against a set of lockers, one hand on her arm and the other curled around her neck. Repressed? No. No, no, no. You didn’t want Ellie. Not like that. No, you just enjoyed toying with her, watching how fast you could get the hot head’s face to contort into something else, something more dark and sinister. Hand around her neck, you watch the way she swallows and then licks at her lips nervously. The sight of the pink muscle brings your attention to her mouth and you briefly lock eyes with her before moving your thumb so that it drags over her bottom lip. Not for the first time you think about what it’d be like to kiss her. Would her lips be as soft as they felt under your fingertips? Would she lick and bite at your lips or better yet would you let her? Or would you make her beg? Beg to touch you, and for you to touch her.

The sound of the locker room door opening and closing has you jumping away from Ellie and snatching up your bag. As you brush past one of your teammates, you make the attempt to rationalize what had just happened. You knew that you didn’t like girls, not that you found anything wrong with it. That just wasn’t you. And even if you did, you certainly did not like Ellie. She just…confused you sometimes. Mostly made you angry.

That was it.

But later, when you retire to your dorm for the night, showered and in bed, maybe when you’re alone with your thoughts and restless hands, you recount that moment with Ellie and wonder just what would've happened had someone not walked in. You think of how she didn’t make any attempt to pull away from you, instead almost went slack in your hands. You remember her pulse quickening in the palm of your hand, racing just as fast as yours had been. You remember her eyes, and the way they had watched you, waiting for what you'd do next.

And in the darkness with your blankets pulled up over your chin, maybe you admit to yourself that you wanted her like that again.

Ellie POV

Dorm parties were never Ellie’s thing but after some coercion for Dina and the whole locker room interaction she figures it’d be an opportunity to blow off some steam. She’s standing in the kitchen leaning against the counter sipping on a drink and maybe she looks a little awkward in her basketball shorts and dirty sneakers but it’s never stopped her from pulling before. So far no one had caught her interest which was unfortunate but the night was still young. Her green eyes scan the room for prospects and also to make sure one very specific individual didn’t show up. Dina had promised, had literally swore on her and Jessie’s first born child that you would not be at this party tonight. Apparently, you had told Dina you had to come up with new plays that “Ellie will be able to actually execute”.

Bitch.

She recounts how you’d pushed her into the locker and to her surprise you were much stronger than you looked. Those team gym days apparently had left you with a lot more strength than she thought and maybe she thought of all the ways she could test that hidden strength of yours, off the field.

Ellie winces at her own train of thought because fuck no, she shouldn’t even entertain the thought. You’d been horrible to her, ever since she’d joined the team. Always saccharine sweet to everyone else and yet towards Ellie you quickly turned sour. She could never figure out what it was exactly that she did to deserve your treatment of her but she quickly decided she didn’t actually care. Whatever your reasons were, if you were going to treat her like shit then Ellie was prepared to dish it right back.

There was one thing she did give some thought to however. And if she was truly being honest with herself, she gave it quite a lot of thought. For someone who claimed to be straight, the way you looked at her sometimes was...confusing to say the least. Sometimes in the locker room Ellie would catch you staring momentarily, and you’d immediately look away sometimes with a gentle flush to your cheeks. And Ellie was no fool, she knew that look. She’d given that look to plenty of women and had been on the receiving end of it. It was one usually followed by fun and mostly debaucherous activities.

Those rare moments where she’d caught you staring in combination with your actions threw her. The two sides of you seemed to be completely opposite to one another. Every time she was somewhat close to figuring it out you were interrupted, much like the whole locker room situation from earlier.

A hand on her bicep reminds Ellie of the mission in mind. It’s one of your teammates, Michelle. She was the only one who seemed to acknowledge the way you singled Ellie out. That probably had something to do with her being very attracted to Ellie but that was neither here nor there. The point was Ellie liked her and they got along.

And maybe, Ellie thinks as her eyes quickly give her a once over before smiling at her, she finds her very attractive as well.

“Surprised you came out tonight. After y/n called you out in front of everyone like that.”

“M’ used to it.”

“I know it wasn’t your fault we lost. You’re literally the best player on our team.” She leans in close and Ellie knows what she’s doing and is not opposed to it in the slightest. Michelle had the most perfect body, carved out after numerous games and training. Her skin was smooth, soft. And her eyes, god, her eyes were beautiful. They reminded her a lot of y/n’s.

Y/N POV

You had literally been here for less than 10 minutes when you spotted the two of them in the kitchen. Michelle is leant in, laying it on thick you’re certain. Her enormous crush on Ellie was not a secret in the slightest amongst the team. And Ellie she’s…smiling? Laughing even. Why was she looking at her like that? She never looked at you like that??

Maybe because you’ve never actually given her a reason to?

Without thinking you march over to the two of them, “Michelle! Just the person I was looking for!”

She turns to look at you, and you can see the disappointment play out over her expression, quickly disguised by a mask of joy.

“Captain, I’m glad you came out tonight.”

I bet you are.

Offering her a big smile you chirp, “I think after today we could all use a little fun .... Speaking of which, I heard Dina say she needs another player for truth or dare. You should go join, Michelle.”

“Actually Ellie and I-”

“Now.”

With frown she pushes off the counter, sparing one last glance at Ellie. “You got it, captain.”

“Was that necessary?” Ellie grumbles, starting to take another drip from the red solo cup in hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You snatch the drink from Ellie’s hand, gulping down the entire thing in one go.

Ellie watches you, not bothering to hide her obvious disdain…even as her eyes wander down the length of your neck,“Y/n…I don’t know what game you’re playing here but-”

“Come over tonight?” You breathe out as you set the cup down. Ellie does a double take, seeming just as surprised as you felt. You tuck your hair behind your ears nervously, and then cross your arms because you have no idea what to do with them at this point. Why in the actual fuck did I say that?

“I just thought you might want to go over some plays I came up with….you know because you need the most help.” You blurt out, hoping to diffuse the situation. Coming up with plays at midnight. Yea Y/n. Real fucking smooth.

Ellie, at a loss for words, opens her mouth, only to close it again.

“Show up or don’t.” You say quickly, slight irritation present in your voice due to her lack of response. “You can always get back to…Michelle.”

With that you storm out leaving Ellie the ever confused lesbian behind you.

You were pacing back in forth in your dorm room, wondering why the ever loving fuck you said that to her. You didn’t have any goddamn plays to show her. Nothing related to lacrosse anyways. Fuck, she probably just went to find Michelle right now. They’re probably making out or worse! Ellie probably took her back to-

A few taps at your door breaks you from your spiral. And without even checking to see who it is, you open the door.

Ellie stands there, pulling at her fingers the way she does when she’s nervous. Without thinking you yank her inside by her shirt pushing her up against the door.

Stopping to stare at her you almost plead, “Tell me this is a bad idea. Tell me to stop and that…you don’t want this. Tell me you don't want m-uump!”

Ellie cuts you off, closes the distance between your lips. You kiss her back in earnest, loving the way she absolutely melts and goes slack against you. Her lips are soft and sweet, tasting just like the cocktail you’d stolen from her earlier. Ellie’s hands find your waist, digging in before traveling lower and lower. You break away, snatching at her hands before pushing them up against the door. Ellie actually groans, frustrated at no longer being able to touch you.

“No touching allowed.”

She frowns at that and you begin pulling her in by the drawstrings of her shorts. Pushing her down onto the bed, you climb up to sit in her lap. With your right hand, you caress her cheeks, just like you did in the locker room, and run your thumb across her bottom lip.

“Are we doing this or not?” She huffs out, those green eyes leering at you, “I’m sick of playing these games with you.”

“Oh Ellie,” You say with a coy smile, “I think you’re going to like this one.”

You lean down as if to kiss her, but instead move just past her lips and latch onto her neck. Mouthing down her neck you find a spot you like, licking over it and then sucking. Ellie moans below you, lifting her hips feebly to create some sort of friction and failing. “Mmm, you gotta be patient dear. Good girls get rewarded.”

The condescending tone of your voice, absolutely pisses her off and yet…she listens. Because despite everything, yes, she wants to be good. She wants to be good for you. You kiss down to her collarbones, sucking and leaving marks along the way. After making quick work of Ellie’s shirt and sports bra, you drink in the sight of her bare skin. The sight fills your head with all sorts of intrusive thoughts of the debaucherous kind.

“What if I…what if I just bit you here?” You murmur as you caress the spot just above her breast. Not waiting for an answer you bite down, loving the way Ellie’s body immediately responds, gasping, hips lifting involuntarily once more. You lick over the bite mark before moving to kiss her again, sucking at her lips, loving how needy the girl beneath you was becoming. So pliant and sweet, the contrast between her and the girl you went toe to toe with on a daily basis almost gives you whiplash. You take pity on her and lodge your thigh in between her legs. Ellie immediately grinds down, moaning into your mouth due to the pressure against her center that was so good and yet not enough.

“Feels good?” You mumble into her neck even though you know the answer. The tiny puffs of breath and gasps in your ear letting you know just how good it felt. Your hands tease at the waistband of her shorts before you make the decision that Ellie should be rid of them completely. She all too happily helps you remove them along with her positively soaked underwear.

“Yes, yes, you feel so fucking good just-” She breaks off into a deep moan as you run your fingers over her slit. God she was so fucking wet, you could barely contain your own groan at how slick and soft she felt on your fingertips “Yea Williams? How long have you wanted this huh?”

“I think the better question is how long have you wanted this. Eye fucking me in the locker room, riling me up on purpos-haah! Fuck–” You swipe your fingers over her clit, once and then twice before settling into a rhythm, circling the nub in small, tight circles. The wetness from her cunt makes it all too easy to work her over, and the action has Ellie positively keening, the sensation causing her to dig her fingers in where they lay on your shoulders.

That feeling doesn’t last long though, not with how slow you start going. And Ellie knows you’re doing that shit on purpose. She knows you want her to beg, wants her to tell you exactly what she wants. If for no other reason than to embarrass her like always. She couldn’t come like this, she needed more, needed you inside.

Sensing Ellie’s increasing frustration in her whimpers you ask innocently, “What is it?” You peck the brunette gently on her lips. Ellie’s eyes harden at you, but her voice betrays her, the small “please” coming out more needy than she intended for it to.

“Come on, show me baby,” Your fingers tease at her sopping wet entrance. “Show me how you want me to fuck you.”

Ellie visibly shivers at your words and without leaving your eyes, she directs your hand a bit lower, “Your fingers, put them inside.” Her voice has taken on a huskier tone, doing nothing to hide her desire, desire that made her green eyes swirl with something deep and dark. Your fingers, first one and then a second, slip inside her with ease. The action has Ellie moaning loudly despite herself at the welcome intrusion. “Yes - fucking fuck me just like that.”

You giggle, almost crazed, amazed by how tight and soft she is inside. You curl those fingers, stroking at her walls inside, feeling her cunt pulsing around your fingers. She moans brokenly beneath you, the sound spurring you to go deeper, give her more,“Wow El, already?”

“God - even now your such a fucking bitch.” Her voice has taken on a high lilt and you know she’s close. Your hand itches to lightly smack her but that was a kink that you’d have to discuss with her. If you ever did this again. God, did you hope there’d be an again.

“That's cute considering how I’ve got you squeezing my hand right now.” Your thumb swipes across her clit as you increase your pace, the small change that has Ellie rolling her hips until she is almost riding your hand.

“Gonna make yourself cum all over my hand? Yea?” You call to her in a voice you barely recognize as your own. Instead of answering, Ellie kisses you to shut you up, shivering as she cums all over your fingers. She moans into your mouth as your fingers fuck her through the orgasm, prolonging it. Finally, the brunette grabs your wrist, the pleasure teetering on the edge of too much.

You pull away from her lips to stare at her. Freckled cheeks flushed a pretty pink, her lips parted still making the attempt to catch her breath and her eyes. Her blissed out, hooded gaze meets yours straight on, open, vulnerable. The sight makes you look away, uncomfortable, but not upset. That was a new look. You quickly decided you never wanted her to look at anyone like that, either.

Slowly, as not to hurt her, you remove your fingers from her pussy. You bring them to your mouth for a taste, before deciding to lick them clean. You hear Ellie groan at the site, and you grin, rushing over to plant your lips on hers. She kisses you back, but still manages to complain, “Shit - you’re fucking disgusting.”

You laugh and kiss her again, before you run your fingers over her sensitive folds “I want to taste you here too, El.” Ellie meets your gaze, unsure but also full of an uncured desire, “Have you done that before?”

Instead of answering, you travel downwards, kissing her pale thighs, toned from numerous practices and team workouts. You resist the urge to bite into them, instead you place a sweet kiss on her swollen clit. You wouldn't make her work so hard for this one. “You’ve been so good for me. So sweet and good.” You whisper from between her thighs.

Ellie's body shivers at the praise because secretly that was literally all she ever wanted from you, your approval. And Ellie decided that if this was the way she could have it, she'd be more than content with that.

You lick tentatively down her slit at first, letting your tongue linger on her clit before you carefully suck the pearl between your lips. Ellie gasps, body trembling from beneath you and you have to grab her hips pressing them into the mattress to keep her from moving.

Her hand combs through your hair before gripping tighter when she feels your tongue slip inside. From above you hear her gasping out one expletive after another as she rolled her hips, chasing the pleasure only you could give her.

Ellie’s back arches as she moans deep in her throat, and you know she is going to come. Feeling her grinding against your tongue you can't help but to groan into her cunt, loving the way she responds to the vibrations with a long drawn-out moan. Ellie covers her face with her arm as she finally peaks once more. Gasping out your name, she comes for the second time that night. You lick at her wetness until she ultimately pushes you away, with a noncommittal “Fucking hell - no more.”

After she finally begins to catch her breath Ellie finally says, “I had my suspicions...but honestly this whole time I thought you were straight.”

“Yea, well you and me both….maybe I have been a bit repressed. And a bitch.”

Ellie hums, before suddenly sitting straight up, “Wait a goddamn minute. You fucked me like that for your first time????”

You rub the side of your neck avoiding her eyes, “I mean, I know what I like so…” You look at her and offer a shrug.

Ellie’s green eyes darken again, “Show me.”

#tia wrote something wow #ellie williams x reader #tlou 2 #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #tlou #the last of us 2 #ellie williams #ellie x reader #the last of us #ellie imagine

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otakween · 6 months

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Digimon World 3 - First Impressions

Yaaay, so excited to be continuing this series! Well...can we even call it a series? I guess it's kind of like Final Fantasy where the games don't connect (sometimes). The numbers give me a sense of accomplishment anyways. Digimon World was bonkers and memorable for its weird mechanics, Digimon World 2 was kind of a flop, but enjoyable enough, not sure what the world's opinion on 3 is. Either way I'm ready for the long haul -cracks knuckles-

Notes:

This is the first Digimon game I've played that feels like a riff on Pokemon. There's badges I'm supposed to earn, towns to explore with all the usual RPG buildings (inn, item store, etc.), people who challenge me to battles as I walk by them, and the only digimon that earns EXP in battles is the one at the front of my party. I see this as a win because I enjoy the Pokemon gameplay loop.

Already got two CG animated cutscenes (FMVs?) I think the animation looks good! It holds up more than some of the other games I've played anyways. The bear digimon especially looked really cute in the opening. The other cutscene that played when I entered the digital world was great for immersion.

Load screens are kind of annoying, but oh well. I guess I can fast forward if they get bad. The text scrolls very slowly as well, which maybe I can adjust.

So the main character "Junior" and his friends go into the Digital World or "Digimon Online." In this game's canon (so far anyways) the Digital World is a game. I found it kind of strange that they all logged in together and then immediately were like "kay let's split up, bye." If they were going to split up then why were Teddy and Ivy like "wait for us Junior!! You're going too fast!"

I suppose this game world is supposed to be an MMORPG because a lot of the human-looking characters I spoke to referenced playing the game and their real lives as well. Gotta love a game within a game. The map/world doesn't really have an MMORPG vibe to me, but oh well.

Since I accidentally chose the "hard mode" pack in the last digimon game, I decided to give myself a break this time and go with the "balanced" pack. The Maniac pack has the best digimon imo, but I ain't taking any chances.

I was just reading about the game and I guess it has around 20 game-original digimon? Excited to meet them all. I'm sure some of this game will also be a preview for the next anime season.

The sleepy digimon in the inn were really cute

Love the sprites and how your digimon walk behind you. Too cute. It looks like they put a lot of effort into the background as well.

I've heard some stock sounds and music from past games already which is fun

I felt a little bit of dread when they mentioned the card game. I really like the digimon card game, but having to battle and play cards in one game kinda sounds like a pain. This is gonna be a long one...

When I played Pokemon when I was younger I would just level one Pokemon up and not give EXP to anyone else lol. I know that's not good strategy-wise, but because that one Pokemon would hog the EXP they'd be overleveled and it made the games easy. For the sake of "playing the game correctly" I'll try to do it right this time and move the digimon around.

#digimon world 3 #digimon #video games #PSX #epsxe

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snotwebs · 2 years

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“Pick me a movie” - Robin Buckley x Reader

Robin Buckley x F!Reader Oneshot

Masterlist

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: Steve picks you some bad movies at the store, so you ask Robin if she can do a better job before inviting her over to your house to watch a film together.

Warnings: None!

A/N: Once again this has not been proof read so let me know of any mistakes lollllll - ALSO I really enjoy writing for Robin, so I beg you, if you enjoy this and are interested in one of my character letters then PLEASE let me write one for you!!!

You thought back to the first time you entered Family Video. It just so happened to be the closest store to where you stood when it began to rain, and it just so happened that you also really loved films. You stayed in there long after the rain passed, running damp fingertips along the spines of each video as your eyes scanned the shelves. They were packed to the brim with all sorts of movies; ones you loved and cherished, ones you'd been longing to see, and ones you'd never even heard of. The videos alone were obviously enough of a reason for you to return, but the pretty girl behind the counter was even more intriguing.

The girl you’d later learn to be called Robin was stood bickering with Steve Harrington. You vaguely knew who he was, as most people in the town did, but as you watched this interaction from afar, any preconceptions you had about this boy fizzled away.

Anyone could see, plain as day, that these were just two humongous nerds.

You couldn’t quite hear their conversation, but it was entertaining nonetheless. So, you moved closer under the guise of browsing the horror section. Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm street, all movies you’d watched hundreds of times before, but although your eyes were trained on the video spines, your ears honed in on the bickering.

“But they’ve gone back to the past, why is it back to the future, shouldn’t it be forward to the future?” Steve looked so incredibly puzzled, leaning over and pinching a crisp from the packet Robin was hogging.

Robin stared daggers at Steve. “You’re not listening to me, Steve. They’ve already been in the future, so they’re going back there!” Robin spoke with such animated expressions and gestures. It was clear to anyone around that this was most definitely not a legitimately infuriating argument, but merely two friends passing the time at work with some silly back and forth comments. Yet, through the thin veil of annoyance, you saw an incredibly passionate girl that intrigued you beyond imagination. The way she stared into the distance, as if deep in thought. The way she munched on her crisps and swatted away Steve’s wandering hand. The way sh clearly knew that Steve understood the premise of the title completely and was simply winding her up, and yet she still played along anyway.

Robin. You caught a glimpse of her nametag as she leaned over the counter, laughing at Steve’s ramblings. You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself. You could’ve watched them for hours, could’ve watched her for hours. She was pretty, and it took an enormous effort for you to peel your eyes away from her. You didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself, and yet you wanted more of her. Just a little, to hear her voice talking directly to you, to have her look in your eyes. You wonder what colour her eyes were... You couldn’t quite see from this distance, but-

“Hey, something you’re looking for?” Steve’s voice startled you. When did he get over here?

“Oh I’m all good,” you smiled at him, “thanks though.” Just as you were about to continue your ‘browsing’, Steve interjected.

“Oh okay, no problem... It’s just, you’ve been over here for a while, you know? You sure there’s not something you’re looking for...?”

You bit your lip, swallowing the words you wanted to say. Just looking for your pretty colleague or you think I could get her number?

“Actually, I’m not sure what I’m looking for.” You laugh and Steve smiles brightly at you.

“Well, hopefully it’s some sort of Video or else we won’t be able to help you much,” Steve chuckled awkwardly.

As Steve began to lead you around the store asking about your favourite movies, Robin glanced up from her notepad occasionally to watch. She liked to watch Steve make an idiot of himself in front of customers, it was one of her favourite pastimes during a boring shift. This time though, it was different. He didn’t seem to be making a fool of himself, despite not doing anything different to usual. Robin quickly realised that this was because of you.

You were not judgemental and you were not rude, you were patient and seemed kind and funny. You made jokes with Steve and were simply having a genuine conversation as opposed to the usual demanding or snappy customers. You asked Steve about his favourites which made him feel comfortable and relaxed; talking to pretty girls at work was usually stressful so it was nice to be met by someone so cheery and kind.

Robin was mesmerised with your charm and charisma as you confidently spoke to a man you’d never interacted with before, but to any outside they might have thought you were close friends. Above this, though, she was mesmerised by your looks. The way your clothes hung from your body, the way your hair framed your face, how pretty you looked when you laughed.

She looked back down at her notepad. She wasn’t writing anything important, just a couple of notes about tapes she needed to restock, but most of it was filled with doodles. Robin liked to keep her hands busy, very aware that people could be watching her and judging the way she moved or acted. She’d always been told she was strange, different, and found she had to make a conscious effort to ‘look normal’ when under the public eye. So scared of driving anyone away, afraid everyone will see her as a freak.

Something told her that you wouldn’t, though. Your smile was so warm, radiating such a happy light across the store. She began to doodle a sun, only able to focus on the tightening in her stomach when she looked at you, both afraid and yearning for you to look back.

You approached the counter with a small stack of tapes. Steve attempted to casually vault over the countertop which obviously ended in a slightly clumsy clambering over it. Robin rolled her eyes before they landed on yours. Sweet and patiently waiting as you leant across the counter.

“That’s quite the collection you’ve got there,” Robin began as she busied herself with checking the backs of each one. “This dingus has got really bad taste, like so bad that people have asked for refunds from his recommendations, so if you wanna leave any of these then that's totally okay, I can just go and put them back for you, it’s no problem, but if you want them all then that’s okay, I mean obviously it’s okay, why wouldn’t it be okay? That’s literally what the store is here for, um, I can just put these through for you now...” This was usually the part where the customer interrupted with a no that’s fine, thanks or a no, no, can I just pay now, essentially polite ways of telling her to just shut up. You didn’t, though. You just waited until she trailed off and was finished speaking before you joined in.

“Thank you, Robin” you say gently, finally reading her nametag, silently reassuring her with your calm demeanor that you were never going to tell her to stop talking.

Robin took a deep breath, momentarily forgetting where she was. Your eyes were just so... and your smile. Robin was entranced by the curve of your lips. Was she staring? She hoped it wasn’t obvious.

Steve sorted the money with you as Robin nervously fiddled with a ring on her hand, trying her hardest to look anywhere but your gorgeous face. Steve hopped back over the counter to rush to the assistance of two pretty girls that’d just entered, muttering a quick “I’ve got this” to Robin as he went, leaving her to finish your transaction.

“Unbelievable,” she chuckled.

“He’s funny,” you told her. Robin felt a strange pang of jealousy at this, despite knowing full well that Steve was funny. Why was she jealous? She’d only just met you, and yet, she was feeling things on a level comparable to crushes she previously held for years.

“Yeah...Yeah, he is,” Robin forced out an awkward chuckle, finishing the payment and handing you your receipt. Her smile was slightly forced now as she began to feel nervous in your presence, and what you did next did not calm her, and yet she was so thankful you did it.

“Thank you,” you smiled, brushing your fingers against hers as you retrieved the stack of videos. You placed them in your bag and we’re just about to walk away before remembering, “Oh! I’ll probably bring these back next Tuesday morning, Will you be working then?”

Robin nodded quickly, when in truth she had no idea what she was doing on Tuesday.

“Cool,” you nodded, “Reckon you could keep an eye out for anything you think I might like then? If that dingus has got such bad taste like you say, maybe you could do better?” You gave a flirtatious smirk, though Robin would never think it was intentional. Truth is, you couldn’t help it. Robin was pretty and you wanted to come back and see her, and you really enjoyed how easily flustered you were making her.

“Yeah, okay. I can do that, I mean I’ll do my best.” Robin looks determined. “Tuesday morning?”

You laugh, beginning to walk towards the stores exit. “Yes, Tuesday morning. I’ll see you then,” you call over your shoulder.

Robin bit her lip, cogs already whirring in her head of what she should pick out for you.

Shit. She had no idea what you liked! By the time she thought to ask, the bell on the door had rang and you were long gone. She felt this strange sensation tugging at her stomach, the need to impress you and do a good job.

So, she went to Steve and asked him to share what you two spoke about.

“I dunno, she liked Goonies, Breakfast Club, Back to the future...”

“Steve, everyone likes those films. They’re just a standard to let you know if a human being is a psychopath or not. I’d be worried if she didn’t like them.”

“Come on, Rob, I’ll pick some for you.”

“No! No... No, I wanna pick them,” Robin quickly interjected, fiddling with her hands.

Steve squinted his eyes at her. “Robin,” he began teasingly, “I know you want to impress the pretty girl-“

“What?! No, I actually just want to do my job-“ she laughed, covering her obvious embarrassment.

“Oh really?” Steve raised his eyebrows at her with a smirk. “I suppose you won’t want her number then...”

Robin moved closer to Steve so she could whisper, not wanting to attract attention about her sexuality.

“Steve, there’s no way she likes girls, and even if she did, she wouldn’t be interested in me, she just wants-“

“Robin, she told me to-“

“She’s just going to come back on Tuesday, pick up some movies and go again. Nothing else is going to happen, not that I want anything else to happen, it’s cool, I’m cool about it-“

“Robin listen-“

“I mean she’s really pretty, like super pretty, and if she were into me then it would be like a dream, cause she’s-“

“Robin!” Steve shouted, then suddenly look around to check if anyone was watching. “Sorry,” he whispered, “but she gave me her number!” Steve looked expectantly at Robin who simply bit her lip.

“Oh... That’s great Steve...”

“Not for me, dufus.” Steve playfully hit her on the arm, digging through his pockets for a scrunched up piece of paper. “She asked me to give you this.”

It wasn’t often that this happened, but Robin Buckley was lost for words.

“Dude, she’s totally into you,” Steve whipsered. Robin didn’t respond. “Hello? Earth to Robin, can you hear me?” He waved his hands in front of her face to which she promptly swatted them away.

“Yeah, I heard you! I’m just...”

“Do you want my advice?”

Robin looked at him, disgusted. “No, thanks. I’d be better off taking advice from literally anyone else.”

Steve looked offended. “Hey, you don’t have to take my advice but just hear me out.”

Robin huffed and crossed her arms.

Steve spoke softly, “Pick out some films you like too, cause you’ll probably end up watching them together.”

“Steve...”

“Like at her house.”

“That’s not happening.”

“You, in a girls house, with a girl, who likes you-“

“I get it, Steve!” Robin burst out laughing.

Over the course of the next week, Robin thought long and hard about the movies she picked out for you. She stuck post it notes to each one to rank them and sort through at a later date, as she knew she’d choose entirely too many to begin with. Some of the notes were simply things like “Classic, can’t go wrong”, but some were more specific, like noting the similarity in your fashion sense with one of the characters, so you’d probably like the films vibe.

On the Monday, Robin began to doubt herself. What if you weren’t coming in tomorrow and she was getting all worked up for nothing? Robin wasn’t meant to work on that Tuesday so she swapped her shift to ensure she’d see you, but even still, she was worried. The crumpled piece of paper with your number on sat nearly on her desk. After what felt like hours of contemplation, she decided to dial your number.

It rang, and it rang, and it ra-

“Hello?” It was you. Without a doubt.

“Hey,” Robin sighed with relief. “Its Robin, from Family Video?” She bit her lip nervously.

“Hey Robin from Family video,” you chuckled. “What a pleasant surprise to hear your voice on this miserable Monday. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m okay.” She let out a worried breath.

“Im still planning on stopping by the store tomorrow. What time do you finish?”

“Um, 4 I think?”

“4? Hm, okay. Well there’s this guy down the road that sells hot chocolate until 4:30, so if you’re quick getting out then maybe you’d wanna come with me?”

“Woah...I mean, yeah. Totally.”

“Yeah? Awesome. If you’re interested, you could come and hang at mine after. If you wanna watch any of the films you picked me, we could do that. Or just chill...”

Robin felt a surge of confidence. Whether or not you wanted to go on a walk to get hot chocolate and watch a film together in a romantic way was... debatable. I mean, who’s to say? Friends can do that too, right? But anyway, regardless of your intentions being platonic or romantic, you clearly wanted to hang out with Robin, and that made her so happy.

“I’d love to. Sounds totally awesome.” Robin beamed.

The very next day, Robin made an extra effort with her appearance for work, not that she wanted to impress you or anything... When she heard the bell ring on the door, she couldn’t contain her excitement. Her stomach was fluttering and her heart was caught in her throat.

You looked amazing as you approached the counter.

“Your face is nice,” Robin blurted out.

You laughed, “Thankyou, Robin. So is yours.”

“Uh, so,” Robin reached under the counter and revealed a big stack of tapes, “I got these for you. Obviously you don’t need all of these, I just wanted to give you some choice. Like these ones sort of seem like they would be your thing, just from like your outfits and style, but also I saw you looking in the horror section for a while so I picked a couple of these out-”

“I like your voice,” you interjected. “I could listen to you talk about movies all night.”

Robin was hugely taken aback. Lost for words once again. “Oh, really? Most people tell me the opposite...”

“Well, they’re stupid. Anyone would be lucky to spend a night with you,” you spoke lowly, hoping Robin would get the hint that you liked her.

Robin giggled awkwardly. “So, uh, are there any you liked?” She asked excitedly, gesturing to the stack.

“You did a good job,” you began. “I saw this one when it first came out and loved it. Like I was literally obsessed for 2 months straight.”

“Really? Wow, okay. I didn’t do bad then.”

“Not bad at all,” you smiled. “So, you think you’re brave enough for one of these horrors?”

“What? Me?” Robin sounded so shocked, almost as if you hadn’t literally asked her about this the day before.

“Yeah, wanna come watch one after we get a hot chocolate? If you’re still down.”

“Oh, I’m totally down,” Robin added eagerly. “I’m just a bit of a baby when it comes to horror.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” you smiled. “You can hold my hand if you get scared.”

Once again you made her completely lost for words. All Robin could offer in response was blushes.

Robin collected her things together and signed off from her shift. You walked side by side in the cool evening air, your knuckles occasionally brushing against each other. It was dark, winter growing nearer, and you could feel Robin shivering next to you as you stood in line for hot chocolate.

“You know,” you leaned in close to her, “you don’t just have to watch a horror film with me to get to hold my hand.”

Robin couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t happening. All she could say was a small “Okay” and blush. You simply smirked and rocked back and forth on your heels.

Robin bit her lip, deep in thought, wondering whether or not she should say what she was thinking. You looked at her with a bright smile.

“Okay, can I just ask you something?” she rambles. You nod as she continues, whispering, “I just want to make sure, cause like, you can never be totally sure, but when you say you wanna hold my hand, are talking like, two friends holding hands or...”

You laugh softly. “You’re adorable, Robin. You know I think that of you, right?”

Robin shakes her head.

“I think you’re gorgeous, Robin, and I want to hold your hand.”

“As... as a friend, or?”

“Well, as a friend for now, but, I like girls. And I like you.”

“Oh,” Robin whispers. She bites her lip, staring into your gorgeous eyes.

Your little moment is cut short by the hot chocolate man announcing your order. You retrieve the drinks and head off towards the winding roads to your house.

On your walk, Robin finds plenty to fill the silence with, and you listen in wonder. She speaks of the first time she remembers trying hot chocolate, what she wanted for Christmas, the skating rink she went to with Steve last year... Neither of you stopped smiling the whole way back.

You both stopped outside your house, rummaging through your pockets to find your keys.

“Uh... we might have an issue,” you began.

“What’s wrong?” Robin asked.

“Nothing major, just not entirely sure where my keys are...” You trailed off.

Both of you stood looking at each other expectantly, before Robin cracked a smile, you both then bursting out into uncontrollable laughter. As if drunk on laughter, Robin slumped her head onto your shoulder as your giggles continued.

“All we’ve done is walk home!” Robin laughed.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been distracted by this pretty girl,” you offered shyly.

Robin pulled her head back to look at you. You were both stood so close you could feel her warm breath. Robin spoke lowly with a raspy edge to her voice.

“Oh, don’t you try and charm me now you’ve got me stuck in the cold,” she teased.

Her nose was bright pink from the cold and you could hear her teeth chattering. “Robin, you’re freezing!” You instinctively raised your hands to cup her face, earning a gasp from Robin.

“Oh...” she whispered. Your thumbs gently began to stroke her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Robs, my brother lives round the corner and he’s got a spare key.” You barely had to whisper, so close to each other you could hear even the tiniest of noises from each other's bodies.

“Okay, I’m sure I’ll survive until then... Probably,” she giggled. You couldn’t help but giggle with her and came to rest your forehead against hers.

“Robin,” you whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

And that was all she needed to hear before closing the gap, gently moving her lips in time with yours, not a care in the world as to who was around. It was dark and cold and she needed to feel you. You felt safe as you gently kissed at her soft lips. You both could’ve kissed for hours until the two of you got frostbite. After what felt like years of being entwined, her hands resting gently on your hips and yours still cupping her blushing cheeks, you pulled away to catch a breath. As you looked at her in that moment, you hoped to God and all things mighty that you would get to do that again and again and again until the very day you died.

#stranger things #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley oneshot #robin stranger things #stranger things robin #comfort character #comfort character letter

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thotsforvillainrights · 2 years

Text

(It’s 1 a.m. currently. This is not a request but I just miss Kai so I’m gonna make him miss the reader too.)

~Kai’s S/O and the Long Trip~

headcanon|scenario|imagine|match-up

-Although he seemed stoic 90% of the time (and he was), he still expressed emotions in his own special way. One of those emotions was longing. Yes when you’re around he pretends like he’s annoyed, and he may very well be! However, his tune changes when the two of you are apart for an extended period of time. Pops likes to joke around and call it the love bug. “My how that boy is sick without you haha!” The old man teased you one day over tea time. Kai couldn’t help it. When you were away it felt like his other half was missing from him. It was too empty, too quiet, and it reminded him of a not so grand time before you came into his life.

-You can imagine what he acted like when it finally came time for the annual friend expedition! This was the once a year trip you and your group of friends go on. It’s a way to reconnect after having been separated for such a long time in different places. It usually only lasted a week or less but to Kai it was like having you away for an entire year! Even though he was silent mostly on the topic, you could tell he was gearing up for it by following you around like a puppy and watching you pack your bag. You giggled to yourself before turning around abruptly and staring at him. Although his mask was adjusted tightly on his face as always, you could easily read his emotion seeping from his eyes. You sighed and held your arms out to him. Without a single moment of hesitation he crossed the room and hugged you tightly. “Angel, why must you go on these foolish trips with those people anyway? I can take you where you want to go just as easily.” He grumbled into your neck and you laughed, pulling out of the hugs. “Those people are my friends Kai, and anyway it’ll be fine ha! I’m only gonna be gone for a few days. I know you can handle it.”

-When the day came for your departure, he didn’t leave until he watched you walk out of sight. He grimaced and looked down at his phone so he could view you on the tracking application he installed (that you both agreed on. Basically life360). Even with the app telling him your location he still couldn’t help but to worry about you 24/7. The very next day he wondered if you were eating, if you’d slept well, if your flight went okay, if maybe you were having fun, was anyone trying to approach you and court you over there, what about the security where you were at? His mind ran a million miles an hour and the others noticed easily. “I guess Y/N is doing that trip thing with her/his/their friends again huh.” Setsuno mumbled while tidying a spilled lunch in one of the break rooms. “Yeah, boss is going a little crazy again. You know the drill. Stay out of the way and make sure not to mess up.” Hojo replied before taking a sip of his coffee.

-Hojo was right. Not only did he worry and miss you but his emotions were impacted as well. Every single little slip-up would be blown out of proportion when you weren’t around him. As Chrono would call it, you were the medicine to calm the beast in him down. Without you being around as a buffer, most situations cost the men in the Hassaikai their life...Although Pops stepped in to make Chisaki bring them back to life of course. At any rate he was going to lose his mind without you there. The man even had trouble sleeping without you by his side. He tossed and turned unable to get comfortable at all. Its funny as a passing thought when he remembers the days cherishing the empty space in his bed. He remembers always saying to himself that he’d rather die than to have another person hogging his blankets and spreading their filth/germs in the bed with him. Now look how the mighty have fallen.

-He also blows up your phone with text messages a lot when you’re away like this. It actually makes you laugh a bit at seeing how much he misses you but he won’t admit it. He does things out of his usual characteristics around the house just as an excuse to talk to you. On the 4th day of your trip you can remember him sending you an obscure meme just to get a reaction out of you so he could text or call. It’s not like you were ignoring him no! It’s just that you didn’t have time to reach out to him first since he was beating you to the punch with everything!

-When you returned to him you frowned at taking in his appearance. The bags under his eyes were a sure fire way to tell he hadn’t even been sleeping without you. Even though he won’t admit he missed you, he still has his ways of expressing himself. “Angel, I’m glad you returned.” He holds you closely and inhales you before slipping his mask down to shower you in kisses. “I’m glad to be home.” You replied.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #kai chisaki x reader #kai chisaki #shie hassaikai #yakuza #Headcanon #overhaul

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jeonjeonggukenergy · 4 years

Text

May 31

summary ~ on the last day of your senior year living together, you're still fighting your feelings for your roommate jungkook. before you can fully move out and move on, he makes a pretty significant scheduling error. #and there was only one bed

genre ~ fluff, smut / roommate!au, college!au, bit of crack/fake texts

wordcount ~ 5k

warnings ~ smut (18+), blowjob (oral: m receiving), nipple play, marking, penetrative sex, cumplay (sort of oral: f receiving), jungkook just goes hard as expected BUT IT'S SOFT? this is just super cheesy and cute with some hopefully hot smut

a/n ~ surprise oneshot! and they were roommates? and there was only one bed? this is all my fave tropes wrapped into one, i had a ton of fun writing it and i hope yall enjoy :')

~ read on ao3 ~

You walked up to your apartment door just as a boy from the class below you walked out—with a wave, a "see ya, Jungkook!" and what appeared to be the last piece of your roommate's bedframe.

"You...sold...your bed?"

"Well, sort of. I borrowed it from that guy for the year while he was studying abroad. So now I'm giving it back to him. Since I'm staying in the city for my new job, though, I wish I could have just kept it. Now I have to actually buy one," Jungkook lamented.

"I mean, okay, but why didn't you just wait to give it back tomorrow when we move out?"

"What do you mean? Today's move-out day. I was just waiting for my brother to get off work to help get all my stuff out of here. I was kind of wondering why you hadn't packed up more, but you've always waited til the last minute to pack for things." Jungkook grinned, recalling your friend group’s spring break trip.

Momentarily distracted by his dig, you defended yourself quickly before returning to the subject. "Hey! At least I always get it done in the end. Better than packing too soon and accidentally giving away your bed a day early. Your new lease doesn't let you move in til the first day of June, right? It's May 31st."

Jungkook's pretty doe eyes went comically wide. "31st? There is no May 31st. It's June 1st. Because yesterday was May 30th. Right?"

"Oh my gosh. You're joking. You have to be joking," you tried not to laugh as you pulled up your Google calendar. "Here, look," you turned the phone around to him. "May 31st."

"Shit," he breathed, pushing the soft shock of hair back from his frozen face. "What did I do?"

You took your phone back, already distracted by your texts as you reassured him. "Don't worry, it’s funny but it's no big deal, I'm just messing with you. You can sleep on the couch for tonight, you'll be fine."

Jungkook grabbed your wrist, making you look up from your screen in surprise. In sitcom-esque slow motion, he swiveled his head sideways and you followed his gaze to the living room, realizing—

"The couch was his too. I gave it back."

"Oh my gosh," you muttered, shaking your head down with a smile. Feeling a little braver on your last full day as roommates, you finally gave Jungkook the warning that had almost slipped out plenty of times over the year. "Jungkookie...you're really lucky you're so cute. Otherwise you wouldn't get away with nearly as much as you do in life.”

"I..." Jungkook dropped your hand, grinning at the usual nickname but unsure how to take the half-compliment. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I forgot about a whole day, I usually double-check my calendar. I can just take the floor for tonight, I guess? I'll go unpack my blanket again. Sorry, I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"No, no," you cut him off—against your better judgment, but determined to ignore your superficial attraction to him to be a good friend and roommate. "Don't be ridiculous, just sleep in my bed. I mean, if that's okay with you of course. It'll definitely be more comfortable than the floor." He nodded rapidly, eyes still wide but mouth perfectly flatlined like an emoji. "Okay then. No worries. Let's eat, I got us takeout for our last night but it's getting cold."

At the mention of food, Jungkook made a beeline for the plastic bags hanging on your arm, and soon you were back to normal—well, sort of. Eating slightly reheated noodles on the living room floor instead of the couch, you giggled over one last Friday night K-drama episode together and reminisced over all the best memories from your year as roommates. You missed the coziness of your couch more than you thought you might, or maybe you just missed the snuggles you'd shared in its corner on countless nights like this one.

Jungkook had always been cutely touchy with his close friends, but it had taken a while for you two to get comfortable. You had to admit you'd gotten spooked when you first met him, disappearing behind your door after a quick "hi, nice to meet you!" and furiously texting your friend and former roommate Jin in distress. He hadn't warned you the new guy he'd found for your apartment was, in your own words, "stupid hot." Jin had laughed you off, saying it hadn't even occurred to him because he just saw his former soccer teammate "JK" as a kid. To be fair, it probably truly had slipped Jin's notice—he barely believed anyone who told him how objectively attractive he was. But Jin was a good enough friend to both you and Jungkook that he took charge of dissolving the initial tension, immediately bringing y'all over for a "double housewarming" dinner party at the cute new place he now shared with his fiancée. (Thank goodness he'd finally listened when you'd told him she found him attractive. Even if it cost you a roommate of two years, you'd happily take credit for that relationship.) That first invitation had felt suspiciously like a double date, but Jin's cooking and hosting skills broke the ice nicely enough. After that, it only took a few more dinners and video game nights to initiate you into their casual rhythm of hair ruffles and backhugs.

Currently, Jungkook had his arm around you to offer a neck rub while you rested your head on his shoulder, hoping he couldn't feel your pulse beneath his fingers. "Ah, you're going so hard," you half-protested.

"I always go this hard! You never complain," he shot back with a teasing grin.

"Nah, come on, you're gonna leave a mark or something. At least check," you lifted your head, sweeping your hair aside. "Is it all red like Jin always gets?" you joked.

Facing away, you had no way of seeing it, but Jungkook's face had gone red too. "Uh...no, it's fine, it's fine." He glanced back to the TV and turned it off, noticing the episode had ended. "Sorry though, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm gonna go shower and get ready for bed."

"Hey, no, it's okay!" You tugged on his shirt as he got up, wanting to reverse whatever you’d done to make him seem so uneasy. "I'm not actually hurt or mad at you or anything, I was just messing with you. Again." You smiled lightheartedly, and his face broke into a soft nose-scrunch at the reassurance.

"Okay, good. I was gonna shower anyway though—so uh, see you in bed I guess?"

"Yeah same, see you in bed," you laughed, trying to maintain the ease in your facial expression until the moment he left the room, upon which your internal monologue immediately turned into "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa."

You couldn't help thinking about Jungkook in the shower. And not even in the usual way that you couldn't help thinking about Jungkook, in the shower. As much as you hated to admit it, Jin was probably right about your feelings for your sweet, dorky roommate going beyond just physical attraction, or friendship. Jungkook was kind, respectful, smart, athletic, artistic, funny, really hot, and you already got along well enough to live together: he really was the ultimate boyfriend material. You were both pleasantly moderate introverts. He shared your same favorite dramas and brand of instant ramen. Even your parents loved him—wait, did they want you to date him too? A strict follower of every social rule that dictated not dating roommates, coworkers, best friends' exes, exes' best friends, etc., you had simply never allowed yourself to consider the possibility until now. You played back your conversations with Jin over the year and considered the sheer amount of the funny stories you told him, or situations where you asked for his advice, or surprises he'd helped you plan, or simply glowing, grinning descriptions of something new you'd noticed, that all ended up being about Jungkook. He'd never even had to bring him up. Damn Jin for being such a good listener.

Almost an hour later, when you were already in bed, Jungkook politely knocked on your door. He always took long showers, and tonight you couldn't decide whether you were thankful for the extra time to prepare yourself or even more stressed from the extra time to overthink.

"Come in," you called quietly. Jungkook shuffled into your room, toe-socked feet making their way to the side of the bed you'd rolled over to clear for him. Cautious, he climbed in, and you stayed safely facing away from each other for a while, winding down for the night on your phones like you both normally did in your separate rooms. So spaced out that you couldn't even detect Jungkook's additional body heat, you felt the chill of the air conditioning instead and kept adjusting the blankets to try and achieve maximum insulation.

Jungkook eventually spoke his first words since he'd entered. "Am I hogging the covers? I'm sorry."

"Oh no, you're totally fine, if anything I'm taking up more than you. I'm just always cold, so I usually sleep in, like, a three-layered burrito. But it's fine! Really, no worries."

To your surprise, Jungkook rolled over, propping his head up on an elbow to look at you. "Well...I...we could..." he started, swallowing when you turned to face him. "I mean, you could wear socks! Like I do!" He pulled a foot out from under the sheets and presented it to your face, cackling.

"I think the fuck not," you snorted, shoving the foot away and falling slightly on top of him as you both lost your balance in giggles. "You couldn't catch me dead in your weird-ass socks."

"That's the secret, though!" he insisted. "That's how I stay warm."

"You are warm," you realized. One of your hands had ended up on his chest, the other arm tucked in the side of his torso, and both were burning up. You supposed you'd settled into similar positions on the couch before but you'd never noticed just how much of a human furnace he was. Maybe it was because he hadn't been wearing his toe socks.

Neither of you said anything for a second. You could feel his heart beating at a slightly elevated but respectable rate, and while you wanted to pull away, if only to spare your own nerves, you also...didn't. You were too scared to stay like this, but too scared to move too. Jungkook seemed similarly stuck, blinking down at your hand on his chest, but eventually he unfroze to reach over it and drag you fully onto him by your shoulder. You simply let him handle you, not making any additional moves but silently enjoying the heat he seemed happy to provide. His hand spread over your back to press your torso to his, radiating heat through your thin t-shirt, and you suddenly grew self-conscious that you were braless. But of course you were, who wears a bra to bed? You were fine. This was fine.

"Are you okay? Is this warmer?" Jungkook asked, as gentle as his touch.

"Yeah! Yeah, this is fine," you responded, the answer muffled by your mouth's placement all too near to his neck. You could sense the heat coming off his skin from there too, but it contrasted with the mild coolness of his still-damp hair. It smelled faintly of floral shampoo, and the scent suddenly amplified all your nerves as the implications of how close he was hit you from head to toe. Even the soft fuzz of his socks brushed your bare legs, now intertwined with his. You weren't exactly small, but the warm solidity of Jungkook’s body under you made you feel fully enveloped by him. Though he'd shared a fair amount of skin with you through the course of your friendship, the intimacy of sharing your bed took every touch to another level, and being pressed so flush against him felt unbearable. You couldn't possibly process a whole year of pure pent-up physical attraction right now, much less any other feelings that may or may not have grown with it, especially when you knew he had no reason to feel anything back. And you were roommates. You just needed to sleep it off and then you could both move, and move on, in peace. Hopefully the odds of ever being stuck in a bed with Jungkook again would go way down after tonight.

Not bothering to get up and turn off the weak string of lights above your headboard, you just slowed your breathing and attempted to drift off to sleep. Pretending the deeper breaths weren't so you could get a better whiff of his soft, flowery hair, you laid still for several minutes, successfully ignoring your body's instinctual response.

Eventually, though, it became impossible to ignore his.

Jungkook wasn't that hard, okay. He wasn't a teenager; he thought he could control himself around you enough by now that he could just enjoy this last night without giving anything away. He almost felt bad when you invited him into your bed, sensing your reluctance and knowing it was his own fault that you'd had to offer in the first place. But he knew you wouldn't have asked if you weren't truly okay with it, and that confidence gave him the tiniest swell of hope that maybe you were a little bit more than okay. While Jin refused to give away any real insight into what you thought of him, he'd been teasing Jungkook for six months about his crush on you, eventually convincing him to try making your friendship into more once you both graduated and moved on to different roommates. He had just been planning to bring it up in a much better way than the semi that you could definitely feel against your thigh. You had both been silent about it for over five minutes, though, long enough that he could cross his fingers that you were already asleep. He probably didn't have to worry about a thing.

"Jungkook?"

You had finally worked up the courage to stop pretending you’d fallen asleep. You felt him freeze up under you—the defined abs that covered his tiny waist tightening, solid chest muscles contracting, and his thighs tensing to trap yours between them, all at once. You froze too, attempting to speak again but no sound coming out.

"_____, guess what!" he blurted to cut you off. Which was good, because you had absolutely zero plans for what to say after that.

"What?"

"It's after midnight," he said, jolting up to point to the digital clock on your side table. "It really is the first day of June now. So, according to the lease, we're officially no longer roommates. Crazy!"

"I mean...yeah," you affirmed, confused. "But also, we're literally sharing a bed right now. In the same room. So until that changes, I would probably still call us roommates." A little too amused by your own clapback, you raised your head to peek into his wide eyes and smiled, a big one that scrunched up your whole face.

And his dick twitched. Yeah, there was no way you could not notice that.

Before you could even finish your gasp, Jungkook spoke again. "I like you. I'm sorry. I like you. I didn't want to say anything while we were roommates because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, and I definitely didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry. You can totally not like me back and it's fine. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to tell you like this, I just...I like you. A lot."

Shocked into silence for a second, but galvanized by his unnecessary apology, you responded without thinking for once. "Don't say sorry. You don't need to apologize, it's okay. Oh my gosh, I had no idea. I really had no idea. I, uh, I think I like you too? Shit, okay, I thought you were really hot from, like, the day you moved in, and eventually it became more than that but I didn't want to make anything weird because, yeah, we’re roommates, so I pretty much tried to ignore it all year. But then Jin made me realize that you're basically all I think about—or talk to him about, shit, I must have been so annoying—"

"Jin? JIN?" Jungkook grabbed his phone from the side table and wasted no time in blasting off the last meme in his camera roll. You propped yourself up in his arms, both giggling at Jin's quick shot back.

Looking at him now, a big cheesy smile on his face even as he stirred under you, still a little hard, you nodded as if fully understanding for the first time. "Yeah. I like you too."

As he set down his phone and brought his hand around your back again, his smile faded into a smirk. "Wow."

"Yeah...wow," you echoed, nervous and awkward again. You felt your face grow warmer as he looked slowly to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes.

"Can I kiss you?"

Blinking, you shifted your weight back down onto him, bringing your face close enough to hear his intake of breath as your hips brushed his dick. "Can you do more than that?"

"Fuck," he whispered. "Yes."

Jungkook snaked one arm down to your ass and one arm up your back to the nape of your neck, holding you close as he kissed you for the first time, fiercely. He didn't waste another minute hesitating now that he knew you had both wanted this for a year. Passionate but not aggressive, he teased the seam of your mouth with the tip of his tongue and you instantly opened for him, gliding your tongue over his smooth bottom lip as his flicked up to the sensitive roof of your mouth. Squeezing your ass to guide your hips down in small circles against him, he tensed his other hand slightly into your hair and you moaned at the competing sensations. Jungkook broke away to absorb every beautiful noise you made as he discovered you, heavy eyes finding yours before he rolled over to pin you to the bed and bury his face in your neck. He smiled into your skin when you moaned again from the satisfying pressure of his full body over you, and carefully rolled his hips into yours as he covered your jawline in tender kisses. One of your hands carved through his thick hair. As you dug the fingertips of your other hand into his prominent back muscles, you suddenly realized you were both still fully clothed and you really, really did not want him to be. Tugging his t-shirt over his head and throwing it aside, you paused before letting him do the same.

"Wait. Take off your socks. I can't believe I didn't make you do that before any of this. I really just almost had sex with someone wearing toe socks. Kill me," you whined over-dramatically.

"Come on, that would have been hilarious. What a first-time story!" Jungkook said earnestly. "Sure you don't want me to leave them on?"

"Please take them off. Please," you only half-jokingly begged.

"You wanna take 'em off for me?" he teased, wiggling a foot in front of you.

"Fine, whatever it takes!" You flung his sock across the room, reaching for his other foot below the covers to get rid of the other one.

He fell on top of you, giggling again, but as soon as you shut him up with your lips he snapped out of it, eagerly deepening the kiss while his warm hands traveled up under your shirt. Smoothing over the curves of your torso and reaching up to firmly grasp your breasts, he moaned into you and you whined back as his thumbs brushed your hardening nipples. He was incredibly physically precise, each movement graceful yet sharp and intentional. You felt deeply lucky to experience this dimension of him, the most perfect and natural expression of his contradictory nature. Equally loving, giving, overachieving, and sensual—with a side of weird socks and Gen Z meme literacy—that was your Jungkook.

"I can't believe this is happening," Jungkook murmured as he pulled your shirt over your head. "I can't believe I get to see you like this. You're so—ohhh." He trailed off, taking in the fully naked glory of your top half for the first time. His head immediately ducked to your chest, sucking dark bruises into the low-lit hollow of your breasts. You squirmed under his hold on the dip of your waist, whimpering, but the grip of your hands in his shiny black locks let him know you didn't really want him to stop. Grinding against his now rock-hard dick, you eventually couldn't take the friction anymore and reached down to try and pull off both of your pajama pants at the same time. Jungkook just laughed.

He paused to help you out, rolling off of you to take care of his own sweatpants, and you kicked off your pajama pants and underwear as Jungkook slowly let his erection spring free above his waistband. You'd never thought a dick could be pretty before, but it honestly made sense that his would be as perfect as the rest of his body. "Fuck," you swore softly, mouth watering. Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, and you scrambled to lick the tip as if on instinct, eliciting a much more emphatic "Fuuuuuck!" from him. He spread his legs to let you crawl between them, holding tenuous eye contact as you smirked at his sensitivity. Teasing a single finger up his shaft, you followed its path with your tongue and he let out a deliciously high, shaky moan.

"Please," Jungkook choked out when you approached him, lips pursed. He praised you breathlessly as you tightened a hand around his length and began to sink down. "You feel so good already. Fuck." Closing your eyes, you hollowed your cheeks to accommodate his generous size and dipped your head, sucking him in as far as you could go. He was so responsive, you learned what he liked quickly, and savored each whimper as you stroked his balls gently or swirled your tongue over his slit. You licked all the way from his head to the base and he cried out. Bringing a hand to the back of your head, he didn't quite hold you down, leaving enough slack for you to move if you wanted to, but you submitted to his touch and stayed a second with nearly his whole length in your mouth. And then you swallowed.

"Stop! Stop, please, or I'll cum." He pulled you off by your hair, bringing your forehead to his as you realigned your bodies. "You're so good for me," he professed warmly. "I wanna be good for you."

"Then fuck me," you surprised him by answering bluntly. "Please, I want you so bad."

Jungkook groaned, arching his hips up against you and coating his dick in your wetness. Bringing himself back under control, he pinned you under his thighs and reached down to open you up with a finger. You felt so much more relaxed with him than you had with any previous boyfriend or hookup, and he slid into your entrance fairly easily. You moaned right away when he brushed his thumb over your clit, and he responded with a muttered "Fuck it, you’re so wet already," pulling his finger out and stroking it up your folds as he lined up.

"You're on the pill, right? For your periods," he confirmed.

"Yeah, of course. You really think I'd let you hit it raw otherwise?" you shot back teasingly, trying to hide how touched you were that he remembered from a few months ago, when he'd driven you to pick up your prescription since your car was in the shop. That was your Jungkook.

"No," he said sheepishly. "You're smart."

You smiled up at him fondly, ruffling his hair. "You're smart too. And sweet. And hot. And your dick is enormous. It's kind of unfair."

"Unfair!" he protested. "How can I be unfair when you're perfect?"

"Perfect? Shut up," you dismissed him. "Now I know you're lying. You cheeseball."

"I'm not lying! You're perfect for me."

"Oh, so you're just a hopeless romantic. Where did that come from? What am I getting into?" you fussed playfully.

"Okay, we can make fun of each other later, like always, but right now can I just get into you?" Jungkook pleaded, directing you back to the task at hand.

"Oh my gosh. I can't believe this, you're worse than Jin. That was actually pretty impressive—" Surprised, you half-laughed, half-admired his wordplay, but were silenced by both his lips and his first few inches gliding into you.

Not yet breaking your kiss, just absorbing your moans into his mouth as he stretched you out, Jungkook eased himself all the way in. He drank in every detail of your body's response to keep careful track of your comfort. You tilted your ass up against him, absorbing the fullness of his big dick immersed in your walls, and he froze. "Pretty impressive?" he whispered.

"Jungkook," you breathed back in pure pleasure, too overwhelmed to sass back.

"Can I move?" he asked sweetly.

"Fuck. Yes."

Jungkook's brows narrowed as his eyes turned darker, and he snapped his hips up into yours once, twice, before setting a fierce pace that had you crying out with each stroke. He hadn't lost touch on your clit the whole time, and he began to circle his fingers to pleasure you there too, building up an almost unbearable tension throughout your whole body.

"Fuck...fuck! Jungkook!" you chanted. His eyes overcame their fluttering to meet yours. Jungkook stilled, then ground down on you in one big, slow, circle, drinking in your blissed-out expression.

"Harder?" he whispered. Jungkook loved a challenge.

"Sure, harder. Why the fuck not," you keened, high-pitched and desperate. He could split you in half at this point, leave you unable to walk for days, and you'd love it.

Jungkook made a small, delighted noise at your eagerness, kissing you quickly before flipping you over and positioning you on all fours, sheathing himself in you again. He ran his hands along your torso to clutch your breasts from underneath, holding himself up against you with solely the strength of his thighs and his core. Pulsing his hips into you carefully, slowly, to let you get used to the deeper angle, his fingertips skimmed your nipples tantalizingly, warming you further. He dropped one hand to prop himself up and slowly traveled the other down to your center. The lustful, elated exhale you let out when he rubbed your clit made him snap his hips forward, tilting you into the bed before you could engage your thighs to push back against his. Your continuous moans encouraged him that you were enjoying this just as much as him, loving how he remained fully attentive to your pleasure while pounding into you to pursue his own high. He fucked you like a high-intensity workout, pushing his unreasonably built body to its limits of speed and strength. You couldn't help wishing you'd taken him up on more of his offers to hit the gym together, but he seemed to get off on your breathlessness, wanting to give you his all and push you past your limits too. His fingers working as quickly as his hips, heat swelled up inside you, and when you felt sure that the tension in your core was about to break, you turned your head to cry out to him.

"Jungkookie, Jungkook—nhngh, I'm gonna cum."

"Ahhhh," he moaned. "Me too, _____. You feel so amazing, ahh—you're so perfect for me." The praise warmed your heart and your core, and soon you came around him with a long, drawn-out whine. He fucked you deep through each spasm, sending you into hot, heady overstimulation as he shuddered and emptied himself into you. When you finally collapsed under him, legs sore and shaking, he pulled out of you gently and lowered his lips to your lower lips with great care. Jungkook meticulously kissed from your swollen clit to your entrance, soft as a whisper, and you breathed out in overwhelmed bliss as his tongue emerged to tenderly nudge every drop of his cum into your opening. The gesture of aftercare, just as soothing as it was inexplicably hot, bloomed an affection within you that almost made your heart hurt. You rolled over, stretching your legs out, and he looked up at you from between them. His hair was a beautifully sweaty mess, and he smiled in sweet satisfaction with your wetness adorning his chin. That was your Jungkook.

"Don't go anywhere," he said softly, kneading your thighs with his hands.

"Well, I have to do the whole pee-after-sex thing. But after that, where would I go? There's only one bed in this apartment now," you couldn't help teasing.

"Hey! If I hadn't given away my bed, none of this would have happened," he complained cutely, pulling himself up to big-spoon you. “Just stay with me.”

"I will. I know," you murmured back. "And I'm so happy you did." You shifted back, closer against him, and he buried his face in your neck.

"You know, I was gonna miss being roommates so much," he said thoughtfully. "But I'm so okay with not being your roommate now if I get to be your...your..." He grinned into your shoulder, suddenly too shy to say it.

You turned to face him, holding his pink cheeks in both of your hands and kissing his nose. Knowing this would be just the first intimate moment of many made you both flush with an easy, sweet joy.

"My Jungkook. You're my Jungkook."

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hpalways · 3 years

Text

Commissions || Childe

UNPREDICTABLE people were like magnets to you, somehow always managing to show up. Usually, you would avoid them at any given chance, preventing further interactions from occurring. As an adventurer, you didn't work for the thrill, but rather for the money. That meant that deep inside, you longed for a peaceful life, which was the main reason why there were certain beings that shouldn't exist in your reality. So how did it go oh-so-terrible with Tartaglia?

You first met Tartaglia -- also known as Childe -- in Liyue Harbor when you were at a stall to buy food. You had a few commissions in tail, waiting to be resolved for the day. But first, food was on your mind. It wouldn't do any good to fight hilichurls and whatnot with an empty stomach. As you were about to dig into your trouser's pockets to find any mora, a man stepped up in front of you, blocking the way. Assuming that he was budging you in line, you opened your mouth to protest, but the words faltered to come out when the male whirled around to face you.

Deep, blue eyes stared into your soul, twinkling mischievously... and somehow, you couldn't read into them. Fiery, orange hair accompanied his features, going unexpectedly well with the blue. Smiling at you crookedly, he saluted you with a gloved hand. A red mask was adorned on the side of his head, matching the red details on his overall gray outfit. He was very tall and attractive -- taking you momentarily off guard.

"I'll pay for your meal. My treat," he easily told you, making a show of flashing the lump of mora in his hands. He even went as far as to swing his arm around your shoulders like the two of you were friends. The warm, close contact nearly caused you to freeze in place, getting flustered all over. What the hell was happening?

"Oh... sure," you uttered, staring blankly at him. Well, there was no use turning him down. The word treat was enough to hook and wheel you in.

"What's your name?" he inquired in a friendly manner, lugging you along as if you were a ragged doll through the waiting line.

Hesitating to answer for a second, you were beginning to look stupid under his expecting gaze. There was a reason though: you were wary of strangers, having learned that the hard way when you encountered Treasure Hoarders one time. But seeing how amused this man was by your internal debate, you pushed the doubts away and decided to go for it. "I'm [Y/N]. You?"

"Lovely name befitting for a lovely person," he mused, leaving you embarrassed. "I'm Childe."

It was then your turn to order. Letting his arm around you go, he straightened up and nudged you ahead. The warmth evaporated from you and you suddenly wished for his touch again. Horrified by your thoughts, you brushed them away and stepped up to the front, telling the chef your order.

Once that was done with and the food was received, you sat down at a table outside. Three whole dishes filled of food, you wasted no time to dive into them, the steamy aroma wafting into the air. Mouthful of food, you almost choked when you found the so-called Childe sitting down in front of you. Coughing for a good minute or two, you suffered as he watched you in enjoyment. When you could catch your breath, you averted your gaze to the table. Oh god, you wished you could bury yourself before you could humiliate yourself any further. He shouldn't have followed you here.

"I'm surprised you bought three whole dishes for yourself," he pointed out, taking delight in teasing you.

You scowled and looked at him, the shameful emotion fading away. "Are you insinuating something?" you asked, squinting at him. He rose his brows in surprise, quickly shaking his head to explain he meant no harm. Sighing, you decided to go all out then. If he already knew your name, what difference would it make to share a few more things about yourself? Besides, this was Liyue Harbor we're talking about; no one was that desperate to seek out trouble so publicly. "I'm an adventurer and I also do commissions. Fighting takes up a lot of my energy, so only one meal wouldn't suffice."

Something swirled in his eyes -- unknown and still just as unreadable. However, you paid no mind to it, too absorbed by the food and the conversation to notice. Maybe this was where it went wrong. "An adventurer?" he echoed, his voice breathless. His ears seemingly perked up and he leaned forward in his seat, anxious to hear more. "What would you say if I tagged along with you today?"

It was shocking to hear that, but eventually, you accepted his self-invitation and brought him along to the locations. Setting off by foot, the two of continued onward with full bellies and enough energy to last several hours. The land stretched for miles and miles, scaping the grounds of hills, mountains, rivers, and meadows. Hogs ran through the trees and birds soared in the skies. Monsters rolled around in the dust, waiting to ambush anybody in the way. The sun beating down upon your backs and the weather a little too warm for liking, it was a difficult trek, but nothing close to impossible for an adventurer.

The fighting began when the destination to a pack of hilichurls appeared on sight. Unsheathing your blade, you immediately attacked them, continuously slashing away until they were entirely cleaned up. Breathing heavily with sweat beading your forehead, you did all the dirty work as Childe inspected from the side, his eye following your every move.

It wasn't easy though. You struggled at some areas, sometimes missing them or getting slightly injured by their own weapons. It was sloppy and flawed, for you were not a skilled swordsman, born without the talent and money. Anyway, it didn't matter much; as long as you did the job, that was what mattered.

The next one took place near the mountains. Insuring that a wagon would be delivered somewhere safely, you had to fend off more monsters, circling around the large transport tirelessly to prevent any damage. While you were doing so, the orange haired male lounged on top of the-said wagon, relaxed and watching the battle beneath him.

Afterwards, it was of simple commissions, with no sword involved. On the last one and feeding ducks for a little kid you accidentally offended, you let out a yawn, ready to go home and sleep everything off. Your partner for the day was also there, crouching down beside the lake's bank, tossing the wheat to the little creatures. Turning his head to the side, he gave you a small smile. Unlike you, he was widely awake and full of energy -- you expected that much, considering he didn't do anything to help you.

"I enjoyed traveling around with you today, [Y/N]," he said, straightening himself up until he returned to being taller than you.

Minus the part where he was completely useless to you, you couldn't help but admit that it was enjoyable to have him him around. His cheery persona helped to distract you from your dislike with the job, filling the silence with easy discussion about basically anything. "It was fun... I suppose," you responded, letting out yet another yawn.

"You know, you could've asked me help. It would've been less straining for you," he pointed out.

You swerved your head at the mention of this, flabbergasted with your mouth hung open like a gaping fish. "You can fight?!" You shot up from where you sat, stepping up to a half-laughing, half-scared Childe. He nodded slowly and you rubbed your eyes harshly, curses running through your head. "And you didn't think to tell me that until now?"

He shrugged, drinking in your angered expression. No ounce of remorse shown in his features, he was pleased to get a rise out of you. Goddammit, this guy was going to be the death of you. "You never asked."

Not replying to him, you faced the other way and crossed your arms, brooding like a kid after a tantrum.

"Aw, don't be mad at me," he cooed, petting your [h/c] head endearingly. "Hey, are you thinking of improving your swordsmanship?"

Originally planning to give him the silent treatment, you could barely even hold on to the promise for a minute. His question intrigued you and you began to wonder why he was asking you something like that. "No, not really," you answered.

"Why not?"

"It's not necessary. My level is adequate for the commissions I take on. It's not like I'm striving to be anything legendary... that's just asking for a death sentence."

His forehead furrowed and a darkened gaze was aimed at you. He seemed to want to say a lot of things, yet couldn't find the words to them. Was he... mad at you for some unknown reason? Almost expecting a big lecture from him, you were shocked to hear what he said instead. "You have potential though."

That was where you parted from Tartaglia that young evening, but by no means was that the last time you were to see him.

You would run into him at Liyue Harbor, in Mondstadt, or sometimes in your travels as an adventurer. Each time you would welcome him warmly, always glad to have his company. He was seriously growing on you, become a friend that distracted you from the hardships of the cold reality. He brightened the atmosphere wherever he went, always the charismatic type, wooing anyone with a tip of a smile.

Of course, you knew he was a Harbringer; he never made a show of hiding it, so you were acknowledged of this pretty much immediately. Hearing the gossip and rumors of the Fatui, you understood that the organization was hella sketchy, but it didn't shine a bad light on Childe at all. You wanted to put your hopes in him, to give him the benefit of doubt. He was helpful so far and your life was peaceful with him around -- which was the one thing you wished for.

Or maybe it was because you had fallen for him already.

At least for the first month or so, everything passed through wonderfully. The two of you were like partners in crime, back to back and supportive of the other. The amount times you would stroll through the meadows and just talk to the man was becoming countless. It began to be something you were looking forward to: to have the time to get to know him even better, from his family to the simplest of facts about him.

It was too good to be true. As the saying goes, nothing lasts forever.

You should have never lowered your guard down. Not when you were found laying on the grimy grounds of a domain, beaten and bloodied. Not when the man you supposedly loved was towering in front of you, his deep blue eyes glowering in lust for violence. Not when your peaceful life was shattered to pieces. Childe couldn't control it any longer that day. He wanted to battle you out, to cause chaos and havoc. Why? You didn't understand... he was your friend. This wasn't what friends do. Nonetheless, he was serious about this declaration.

He spat at the ground, annoyed you didn't put up a greater fight. Not at all worried about your wounds, he paced around the chamber, pulling at his messy locks. "Didn't I say you had potential?! You should've tried harder."

You soon lost consciousness, too exhausted and pained to do anything else. The next time you awoken, you were in Mondstadt, getting healed by Barbara. Tartaglia was no where to be seen, as he ran off earlier without telling anyone of his whereabouts. That was the last time you saw him for a while...

Everything that happened was the past, occurring a few months ago. And here you were, in the present, back to the same life you had before meeting Childe. You still disliked the same things, whether that'd be fighting, unpredictable people, or your job. Day after day, you worked to gain money for a living, hating every moment of it. It was so normal that sometimes you wondered if you may have imagined the certain Fatui man up.

Walking through the mountainous parts of Liyue, you were on a hunt for resources. Hoping to stumble upon a mine and get done with the work as soon as possible, it was unfortunate that the weather hated you.

Droplets fell from the sky and the clouds darkened the world. Rain thrummed against the earth, soaking your clothes within a few minutes. They stuck to your skin, turning uncomfortable and cold. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you quickened your pace, desperate to find shelter for the time being. Shit, shit, shit. You hated the life of an adventurer so much--

Too blurry to watch where you were going, you hit a hard surface in front of you. Rather than a hard surface, it was actually a person. Squinting and wiping the droplets from your eyes, you cringed when you saw who it was. It was the one and only Childe, looking the same as always.

Wet orange locks somehow making him more attractive than he already was, he was as soaked as you were. The clothes defined his body and you frantically stopped yourself staring at it any further.

"[Y/N]," he breathed out, looking unsure. The sound of his voice snapped you back to life and fury filled the pits of your stomach. Seething in spot, the hands at your sides clenched tightly. He had taken your trust and ruined it -- he was nothing but a fucking bastard.

He took a few steps forward, growing nearer, his blue beautiful hues full of regret. You hated that he dared show himself up, wearing that damn look as if you would ever forgive him. Pulling your hand back without thinking, you laid it across his cheek, harsh at the contact. He touched his red cheek in awe, lowering his head in shame.

"I deserved that," he whispered, smiling at you sadly.

"You do," you muttered.

Despite how angry you were at him, there was this twisted desire to kiss him. Feelings were confusing, always making a situation more complicated than it should be.

Leaning forward, you locked lips with his. His body had stiffened in bewilderment, but he soon returned the kiss, wrapping his steady arms around yourself. Digging your fingers into his hair, you sighed in between breaths and listened to your racing heart. He tasted like salt and the soil beneath you. He was the definition of unpredictable, but you couldn't get enough of him. He brought destruction in the paths he walked on and had the continuous yearning for war. He was everything you were not and you hated him for it.

His lips trailed away from your own, peppering kisses on your jawline, causing you to gulp. He was swallowing you whole, taking in everything about you to memorize. His touch was intoxicating, the finger tips leaving a mark on your tender skin. "Let's never see each other again after this," you told him. He didn't respond as he continued to bruise your neck. "I hate you, Childe. I fucking hate you, you bastard."

Tears welled out of your eyes, mixing together with the tears from the gods, unable to be distinguished.

He lifted his head and gave you one last long kiss. Your insides were this close to bursting, butterflies fluttering horrendously like a beast within you. Soft lashes flitted and he stared at you with understanding. He was going to listen to your wish; he would never show himself up again.

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mintmatcha · 3 years

Text

10 Months

Matsukawa and Hanamaki

Part One

CW: mentions of death and illness, ANGST

Today’s just another day at work. Someone’s dead and someone else is talking about it.

The worst part of the job, Mattsun decides, isn’t consoling the grieving or dealing with the aftermath of death: it’s listening to these shitty, repetitive speeches. There’s only so many times a man can hear about God’s plan and how much better someone is now that they’ve entered the great beyond before he goes numb. Sure, yes, logically, he understands this is all sad, but before all else?

It’s boring.

Has he always been this bitter? Has he always been this good at choking down his feelings? Probably.

Mattsun looks away from the speaker at the front of the room, who's droning on about some shit while practically draped over the coffin. He does a precursory scan across the room, making sure everyone was properly teary eyed and mourning, before pulling out his phone. Maybe it’s unprofessional, but it doesn’t matter. No one’s looking at the funeral director during these things. If they were, it was something for them to discuss later during the reception.

'Did you see that employee?'

'No, I was crying.'

'He was on his phone!'

'How horrible!'

Just before he can open Twitter, a glimpse of unforgettable, bright strawberry blonde hair catches his eye. For a moment, he ignores it off. He’s used to imagining things, used to his brain searching for hints of pink wherever he goes. He's used to turning his head to see it was a trick of the eye.

But this time the color doesn’t fade. Instead, it comes into focus, catching the light that pours through the stained glass windows, rainbows painted across pale skin. All at once, the presence becomes real, and Mattsun feels like he’s seen a ghost.

Not a literal one, but, fuck, he might as well be.

It’s been years since he’s seen Makki, longer since they actually talked, but there he was, standing at the back of the parlor with an obituary in hand. He loathes himself for the way excitement bubbles inside him and his heart gets caught in his throat… and then immediately drops as he processes why Makki would be here. He tries to remember the last name of the deceased, hoping the last name wouldn’t be familiar. Makki’s dad was never in good health, could it be-

No, he definitely would have recognized anyone else with the last name Hanamaki.

That’s when it hits him that Makki isn’t dressed for the funeral. In a sea of black, he’s wearing some raggedy sweatshirt with coffee split down the sleeve and a loose pair of jeans, ripped in all the wrong places. Frankly, he looks like shit, but he’s just leaning against the door frame, standing there like he belongs, with a tiny little grin on his face.

Makki never looks over, too involved in the speech, but he’s aware of Mattsun’s presence. His torso is angled to face his old friend, chest broad and inviting. Mattsun hates that after all these years, he can still read his body language and understand what it means. It’s an invitation to come over.

Mattsun has to stop himself from going over there. Time has passed, he’s made his choices. He can’t just drop his work for an old friend.

No, not a friend. Stranger adjacent.

He’s made his choices.

He stays where he should be, in the corner, for what feels like hours, autopiloting through the rest of the service. By the time it’s all over, and the lights are dimmed, Makki’s already gone.

Mattsun hates that he knows exactly where to find him.

They find each other behind the parlor, wedged between the building and the dumpster. Makki’s sitting on the curb, legs folded up under him and pressed into his chest. That signature smile hasn’t faded, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He pats the empty space next to him, but Mattsun just shakes his head and stays standing.

“Just like high school, huh?” Makki says, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pouch. He taps the bottom four times, then shakes it, hard. Waking up the cancer, making sure it’s out of bed, he used to joke.

“Except we aren’t hiding from teachers anymore.” Mattsun kicks at a crumpled soda can and watches it bounce across the asphalt. “And you’ve changed brands.”

“Now we’re hiding from your boss.” Makki pulls a stick out and waves it, “And Iwaizumi’s not here to bitch about it.”

“Dude,” Mattsun tries not to sigh, but it sneaks out. The casual act was unsettling; Makki was pretending that past 3 years never happened. “I’m happy to see you and all, but I’m working right now.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Makki pats his pockets frantically, then pulls out a small pink lighter. It's not the same pink as his hair, but it's close. He brushes it against his pants, back then forward, opening it and lighting it in one smooth motion. He holds out the cigarette, twirling it between his fingers, “Help me light this, why don’t you?”

Mattsun blanches, scoffing in annoyance at the thought. There's the flash of a memory, Hiro's fingers against his lips, holding the cigarettes for him as he breathes in, skinned knees brushing against each other, but he pushes it down.

“Hanamaki, I-”

“I’ve been demoted to just Hanamaki, huh?” he places it between his teeth and sets it alight, sucking in until the end glows orange. He holds still, savoring the moment, then lets out his breath, smoke seeping out through his teeth. “So, it turns out that I need to plan a funeral.”

Mattsun lets his apathy break, just for a moment. He runs his hands through his hair, completely fucking up the slicked back style as he processes this. “Fuck, dude, I’m sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be.” Makki shrugs, “Not the end of the world.”

Mattsun blinks, trying to shake off the initial shock. He just lets his work persona take over. “Well, we would be happy to help you plan. We can scheduling for next week in my office, if you want-”

“There’s no rush, don’t worry.” Makki leans back and faces the sun. Even though he’s sitting on the ground, no more than 5 feet from garbage, he seems so peaceful.

“Who’s it for?” Mattsun asks the obvious question and Makki grins wider, like he’s been waiting for this moment. He waggles his fingers in the air, like he’s celebrating.

“Me.” Makki says. He rolls his head forward and that pleasant air about him fades. It strikes Mattsun that he’s lost weight since high school; his already sharp features are more sullen, sunken into his face. “I’m dying.”

How hadn’t he noticed earlier? He spent so much time looking at Hiro in high school, so much time studying his features…. How could he miss such a dramatic change? Even now, he can remember exactly how the curve his cheek felt under his thumb, how smooth his skin was. Mattsun doesn’t realize he’s sitting until loose gravel bites into the palms of his hands.

“Fuck, dude.” he can only look straight ahead, focusing on nothing, “Are--- are you sure?”

“As sure as medical science can get,” he has the audacity to laugh, “I got brain cancer.”

Brain cancer. Mattsun knows what that means in a vague sense and yet it means almost nothing to him. Questions bubble up in his mind, all of them swimming around, begging for any sort of information to make this all make sense.

"How long?" He wanted to ask anything else, but that’s the only sentence he could form.

" 'bout 7 inches.” Makki pauses for affect, “Oh, you meant how long do I have left to live?" he's grinning wildly at his own joke, waiting for Mattsun to react. When he doesn't he just takes another drag of his cigarette, smile never fading. "I thought it was funny.”

"It was a little funny." Mattsun relents, gesturing for the butt. It's passed with brushing fingers, knuckle against knuckle. It's been years since he's smoked- since third year of high school- but each pull still burns all the same. "How long?"

"Well, two months ago they told me I had years," he says, like it's nothing, "But the doc did a rescan and it's way worse than they thought.” He taps his temple, “Apparently, three lil fuckers in there."

"How long?" Mattsun can’t stop repeating himself.

"10 months." he wobbles his hand side to side, “Give or take.”

Mattsun takes another drag, harder this time. It’s unfair that he’s this upset about it, that this isn’t just another funeral to him.

“Whoa, don’t hog the whole thing!” Makki grabs for his cigarette, opening and closing his hand like a small child, “You’ll get cancer from these, you know? ”

Mattsun doesn’t laugh. He just watches the ember fall on to his slacks. They flare of a quick moment before dying, leaving little discolored burns in their wake.

“Both of us can’t get cancer- it’d be like wearing the same dress to a party. So embarrassing.” he finally just snatches it out of Mattsun’s hand, “So, are you going to help me?”

“H-help you.” he repeats back. Nothing that’s happening right now feels real.

“With my funeral. Duh.”

“You want me to plan your service?” Mattsun asks.

“Well, us. Not just you. Duh.”

Duh.

“Why?” Mattsun breaths and yet he feels like he’s suffocating, “Why me? After everything I did-”

“I don’t want my dad to worry about it.” Makki kisses his teeth and pulls himself into a ball, “He almost had a heart attack trying to figure out my mom’s and I …. I just don’t want him to worry.” Makki breathes out through his nose- it’s how he dispels negativity in his life, just like how he did in high school. “Besides, if I plan it, it doesn’t have to be some fucking boring ass pity party. We can make it fun. A fun-eral.”

These all just seem like words. There’s meaning behind them, sure, but they don’t seem to mean anything when they’re strung together like this. Mattsun wonders if this is shock, or some weird form of it. He’s seen it before, in the eyes of family’s blindly choosing and planning. He always thought they dumb, not knowing how to react, not knowing if they should be sad or angry or …. Something.

But he gets it now. The news doesn’t always sink in.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admits after a long moment, “I don’t… I don’t think I’m processing this.”

Makki pushes off of the curb and stands, brushing off dust from his pants. “I get it. It’s a lot to hear.” he flashes a peace sign over his shoulder as he starts down the alley, “Think about it and get back to me.” A thin puff of smoke curls into the air, “My number’s the same as it always was.”

Mattsun sits there, hidden between the dumpster and his work, and tries to process as he watches Makki walk out of his life once again.

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dadgonedeku · 4 years

Text

Bnha boys taking care of their s/o with a quirk that makes them cold all the time!

❄️~Hi lovely! I’m so sorry these are late! I hope you enjoy them!! Thank you for requesting! 🥰

❄️~Characters: Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki, & Kirishima

❄️~SFW & Gender Neutral!Reader

❄️~Happy reading!

Izuku Midoriya🥦

🥦~ He never fails to keep a spare hoodie or jacket on him for you!

🥦~ Always has one in his bag, and if for some reason he forgets it, he just gives you the one he’s wearing. This man will never let you be cold!!

🥦~ Whenever you’re cold at night and want to cuddle with him he’s all for it!! He’ll lend you some of his warm clothes and let you sleep in his arms. (not without being flustered the whole time of course)

🥦~ He buys you a couple heated blankets and he keeps one in his room for you!

🥦~ He asks Yaomomo to teach him how to brew hot tea or make your favorite hot drink so he can surprise you!

🥦~ He doesn’t mind if you’re a blanket hog, he’d rather you be warm instead of him, plus he can always change into warmer clothes so it’s not a bother.

🥦~ Down to cuddle with you whenever you want to! He wants to make sure you’re comfortable and if being in his arms makes you warmer then he’ll do it 10000x over.

🥦~ He buys you sweaters, hoodies, sweatpants, etc for presents! You end up having your own collection of clothes that he’s bought for you. It’s really sweet.

🥦~ Doesn’t mind if you steal his hoodies, sweatshirts, etc. As long as you’re warm and safe he’s all good.

🥦~ Definitely has multiple pages dedicated to your quirk in his notebook though. He thinks it’s super cool! Pun intended-

Katsuki Bakugou💥

💥~ He’s naturally warm so you’re basically good to go!

💥~ He doesn’t own that many hoodies, jackets, or sweaters due to his natural warmth, so he probably ends up buying a few for you to wear. He’ll never admit it though-

💥~ “Since when did you have so many hoodies Kat?”

💥~ “Tch, none of your business. Take one.”

💥~ If you forget to bring a jacket and you’re in public with him he’ll give you his if he has one, not without throwing a meaningless insult or two at you though.

💥~ “If you’re so cold all the time then how do you forget a jacket dumbass? Here.” And he’ll either throw it at you or drape it over your shoulders like the tsundere he is. He acts like it bothers him but you know it doesn’t. He really does try to keep you warm.

💥~ If you want to cuddle he probably won’t even respond at first. He’ll just motion for you to come to him or mutter something under his breath and you’ll laugh before wrapping yourself in his hold.

💥~ He’ll cook warm or hot foods for you some nights, and even make you hot tea if you want him to. He hates how his quirk throws off his normal body temperature so he understands that yours would do the same. He would hate being cold all the time.

💥~ One time when you were hanging out with him in his dorm he surprised you with a heating pad and a blanket. You teased him for being so cute and he only scoffed at you and threatened to return them. You knew he wouldn’t though, and it’s yours to keep!

💥~ He goes to bed a little early so if you’re okay with that then eventually he’ll let you sleep with him. He will not put up with a blanket hog though. You’re not about to sleep in his bed and then deprive him of warmth just because you’re cold.

💥~ He doesn’t really care if you wanna wear his sweatpants, hoodies, etc. However, he does care if you attempt to steal them from him..

💥~ “What the hell?! That hoodie’s been missing for the past two weeks and you’ve had it this entire time?!”

💥~ “Kat I’m cold-“

💥~ “I don’t care if you’re cold! Gimme my damn stuff back!”

💥~ He does care though, very much so. It’s really cute when he tries to brush it off though.

Shouto Todoroki❄️🔥

❄️~ You practically cling to his left side whenever you’re with him.

🔥~ He thinks it’s cute, you almost never hold his right hand or cuddle on his right. It’s always his left, not that he minds though. Whatever you’re most comfortable with he’s comfortable with.

❄️~ He understands how a quirk can affect body temperature almost better than anyone. Though his quirks are pretty much balanced, he still has days where he’s more hot than cold or vice versa.

🔥~ He’ll encourage you to wear his turtlenecks or sweaters. The fact that you look adorable in them is a bonus to helping you warm up.

❄️~ It takes a little while for him to warm up to cuddling because of his childhood. He was touch starved almost his entire life but once he gets used to it he enjoys holding you or being held by you.

🔥~ He doesn’t really mind if you end up stealing his clothes. As long as you’re warm and safe he could care less if a few of his sweaters go missing. He’ll just buy more.

❄️~ Speaking of buying more, he definitely buys you hoodies, sweaters, blankets, anything you want. Literally, anything you want he’ll get it for you. He definitely buys you blankets and warm clothes. Good quality stuff too, nothing cheap. *cough* using his Dad’s credit card. *cough*

🔥~ He hates the fact that your quirk makes you cold all the time. Of course you’re really strong and your quirk is beautiful as well as powerful, but he still has a little hate for its effects.

❄️~ The two of you like to train your quirks together. Your power is similar if not the same as his ice so it’s fun to spar.

🔥~ He’s down for sleepovers or naps, whatever you’re more comfortable with. Sometimes he’ll even initiate it!! He loves being in your company.

Eijirou Kirishima🥊

🥊~ He’s so bummed your quirk makes you cold all the time! It must suck if you hate being cold.

🥊~ He keeps a jacket with him at all times for you! If you don’t have one or need one he’ll give it to you to wear for however long you want!

🥊~ If you want to keep it? Sure, okay! He’ll just buy another one or even get you a couple. He wants to make sure you’re never cold or uncomfortable!

🥊~ You wanna cuddle? Of course!!! He loves cuddling with you. If he can help you warm up at any point then please let him! He thinks you’re adorable all bundled up in blankets.

🥊~ He buys those little pocket warmers for you and whenever you want more he gives them to you. It’s almost like he has a never ending stash of them. *cough* he does-

🥊~ The KING of hot cocoa, this man makes some DELICIOUS hot drinks. You can’t convince me otherwise.

🥊~ If you leave your jacket behind and go out with him he’ll give you his!! And if it’s winter he’ll give you his scarf too! Please he’s such a sweetie he’ll freeze to death if it meant you’d be warm-

🥊~ Heated blankets? A must. He has three in his room for you in case you want to cuddle in his room or spend the night.

🥊~ His s/o will NEVER be cold, quirk be damned. If he can help it you’ll be toasty 25/8!

🥊~ He buys you packs upon packs of fuzzy socks change my mind-

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #fluff #headcanons #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #todoroki x reader #midoriya x reader #bakugou x you #kirishima x you #todoroki x you #midoriya x you #gender netural reader

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bqstqnbruin · 3 years

Text

I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make you cry

All I’m gonna say before this is 😈😈😈

Read the whole series: I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

Flashbacks are in italics

____________________________

“Why do you think?”

“Come on. Tell me.”

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

Your first night in Calgary was supposed to be spent unpacking yours and Evelina’s new apartment, having spent the entire day lugging boxes and furniture up and down the stairs, not wanting to constantly hog the elevator with your endeavors. You were both exhausted, but apparently she wasn’t exhausted enough to not insist you go and explore your new home.

“Come on!” she whines, practically ripping your arm out of your body in an effort to pull you off the couch, “You know that you want to go wander around! Why can’t we just do it tonight, we’ve spent all day in this building anyway.”

“Ev, we are gross, and we are tired. We shouldn’t go out,” you tried to counter, even though you knew she was going to eventually wear you down into going out.

“How are we going to make friends! We can’t go into work on Monday only knowing each other!”

“I love you, too, Ev.” She got up off the couch, her hands clasping under her chin as she juts out her bottom lip. She was right, though: you knew no one in the city and probably should make some sort of effort to change that before you start your new jobs. “Fine. But this doesn’t mean I have to have fun, and we aren’t staying out past midnight.” Evelina starts bouncing up and down in excitement, dragging you to her room so you can start to get ready. “And we have to stay in either tomorrow or Sunday and seriously get to unpacking.”

Both of you start rummaging through the boxes, tearing them open in hopes that one of them will contain clothing that you can wear to go out. “How am I this unorganized?” Evelina asks, tearing open what she thought to be her tenth box, none of them having clothing.

“I don’t think you want an honest answer from me,” you laugh, resulting in her throwing a pillow at your head. “Ok, hey!” you say, throwing it back. “I have my clothes in a few suitcases. Should we raid those and see if we can find anything?”

She laughs, opening another box, “Y/N, I love you, but you have nothing that we would be able to wear out. Your clothes are either business or athletic, and there’s no in between.”

“I’m sure we can find something,” you mumble, knowing she was right.

“No need! I found some clothes!” she said, dumping the box out on her bed. She thrrew a shirt at you, telling you that you were wearing it or else you would be doing all the unpacking yourself. Shooing you off to go clean up, she shuts you out of her room, left in the hallway surrounded by a bunch of boxes.

It’s not that the move was hard, but it definitely didn’t go as you had expected. You and Evelina were both excited for the fresh start, a new group of friends, a new city where no one knew you. Where you wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.

You were always ready much faster than Evelina, so you decided to start unpacking bits and pieces of your room. You open the box labeled ‘decorations’ figuring you could at least try to start to see where you might hang things up. On top in the box is the one picture you didn’t want to see: the picture of you, Evelina, and Thomas on the day before the spring semester of finals your freshman year. The three of you were sitting at a picnic table on campus, surrounded by your textbooks and notes, mid laugh at something Evelina had said, none of you knowing the picture was being taken. You had known him since you were little, the days of learning to swim at the community pool when you were toddlers being some of your only memories from that time. The school dances you brought each other to as dates instead of stressing about having to ask and possibly get rejected by whoever it was that you liked at the time. The nights in college where you would watch movies with each other and fall asleep with the movie running, Evelina coming home and finding the two of you on the couch with the tv on, all of you going to the diner the next morning.

He was your other best friend besides Evelina. He knew everything about you, probably more about you than Evelina did, probably more than you even knew about yourself. He was also in love with you without you feeling the same. The night you found out you and Evelina were moving, he told you that, begging you not to go and stay there with him. You told him you couldn’t and you haven’t talked to him since.

You didn’t know that you had packed it, you thought you left it in your closet back at your parents house. Evelina knocked on your door, letting herself in before you could hide the picture, “Hey, are you ready?” She sees you staring at the picture, tears threatening to fall as you think about the move that cost you your best friend. “Thomas?” You nod, shoving the picture in your desk, hoping that you would be able to look back at it one day. “That’s not going to happen again,” she tries to reassure you, pulling you out the door. “How many girls have their best friend fall in love with them twice?”

Evelina finds a bar down the street from where you live, walking there instead of paying for an Uber, thankful that you were able to take your mind off Thomas. And Evelina was right, wasn’t she? How many girls' best friends fall in love with them to begin with? So what are the chances of that happening twice?

You get to the bar, taking in the scene around you; a group of guys sitting in the back, some college girls trying and failing to get their attention, some other groups of people, everyone in packs except for you and Evelina. “We could go talk to them,” she says, trying to drag you over to the group of guys.

“No, come on,” you say, trying to resist her pull. Those guys were attractive and there was no way you were about to go up to them and just start talking to them like she wanted you to.

“Come on,” she says, ignoring your protest and dragging you in front of the guys, “Hey, I’m Evelina, this is Y/N,” she starts, “We just moved to the city and don’t know anyone.”

You hated how bold she could be some time, but were at least thankful they made room for two strangers to join them instead of you having to stand awkwardly in the corner, Evelina diving into the conversation with the rest of the group.

The boy next to you didn’t seem to be paying attention to her, just like you weren’t. There was something about him that you couldn’t take your eyes off him, his curly hair, the blue eyes, the stupid grin that was on his face. Whatever it was you saw in him, he found something about you that he couldn’t stop staring at. “I’m Matthew,” he whispers. You smile at him, the guys laughing and bringing your attention right back to the group.

“You don’t know who we are?” Elias asks Evelina, the rest of the guys looking just as shocked as he was.

“You count on us watching or following sports, so no.”

Matthew turns to you, seemingly ignoring the rest of the guys. “You know nothing about sports?”

“Well,” you start, feeling your face getting red. He was close to you, definitely trying to hit on you, but for some reason, it didn’t bother you like it would with other guys. “I know about hockey, a little bit about baseball, and then my dad is weirdly into the NFL so Sundays were spent with lots of yelling at his team, but I don’t have a team that I follow.”

The guys laugh around you, sucked into whatever it was Evelina was going on about. “Why don’t we get a drink?” Matthew suggests, getting up before you can say anything. He holds out his hand to you, taking you and dragging you to the bar. “So what do you know about hockey?” he asks you, sitting down on the stool as you took the one next to him, leaning against the bar as he orders something for both of you. You couldn’t tell if the muscle in his arm was popping out because he was flexing on purpose or because he couldn’t help it, but you were surprised his shirt wasn’t ripping at the seams the way it was being filled.

“You don’t want that,” you shake your head, suddenly a little embarrassed, “I just start rambling and it’s never good.”

He laughs, his eyes closing as his smile grew, forcing a smile on your face because of how infectious it was, “Two things will happen: I either zone out while you’re doing something that might make you happy, or I learn something while you’re doing something that might make you happy.” You hesitate, debating on if you should really tell him anything as the bartender brings the drinks he ordered you. “Come on.”

You roll your eyes, smiling at him as you raise your glass to toast to him. “You’re asking for this, Matthew.”

You dive into what you knew about hockey, knowing enough about the history of the sport no matter how dry it was, knowing some of the basic rules even though he had to explain what counts as goalie interference to you, though he didn’t seem to know himself. The last person who listened to you ramble like this was Thomas. You finish telling him, a wave of sadness washing over you at the thought of him. You bite your lip, looking down at your drink.

Matthew reached over to you, his thumb and forefinger tilting your head back up to him. He looked worried at the sudden change that came over you. “What’s up?”

You shake your head, scrunching your face as a signal that you didn’t really want to talk about it. But for some reason, with him, you felt you could. “Just kinda reminded of someone there.”

He studied your face, trying to get a read on what type of someone you meant. “A boyfriend?”

“No,” you laughed, a sense of relief falling on Matthew, “My best friend. Or, ex-best friend, now, I guess.”

“Well whoever they are, they’ve just been replaced.” You looked at him, confused. Before you could ask him what he meant, he started, “I’m your new best friend now. And you can’t tell me otherwise.”

You can’t help but laugh, forgetting about Thomas for a moment. “I think you’ll have to fight Evelina on that one.”

The guys and Evelina sat back at the booth watching the two of you talk with each other the rest of the night. Evelina couldn’t remember the last time she had seen you so animated, so happy to be in an unfamiliar situation.

“I think someone’s in love,” Elias took her attention away from you and Matthew.

“Y/N? No. She doesn’t let herself fall in love that easy. The last guy she dated I don’t think she said she loved him until they had been together for a year.”

“No, not Y/N,” Elias said, the rest of the guys nodding in agreement. “Matty there.”

Evelina scoffs. “No way.”

They watched as the two of you laughed so hard you could barely breathe, Matthew not taking his eyes off you even though you were pretty much doubled over. “Trust us. We could make a list of the ways we can tell that one is in love. And he’s doing all of them.”

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

“What are you talking about, ‘the list?’” you try to play it off as if you didn’t know what he meant.

“I know all about that list you were making with the reasons you hate me. I saw it in your kitchen on the fridge when I was over,” he lies, not wanting to drag Evelina into this.

“So what? You’ve known? And what have you been trying to do?”

“I don’t know, trying to convince you that you don’t hate me! Trying to make you forget about that list,” he yells, people around you stopping to stare at the scene you were causing there on the sidewalk. “You know you don’t hate me,” he whispers, take a step towards you.

“You don’t get to decide that Matthew.”

“What can I decide? Because if it were up to me then we would have been together after the night we met. It wouldn’t have taken this fucking long for you to get your head out of your ass to see what we have.”

You take a step back at the bite in his word, feeling the tears fall down your cheeks, your mind running rampant trying to figure out what all this meant. His words stung; you thought he was wrong. You thought everyone was wrong. There was no way this had all been there since you met him the night you moved to the city. “This has not been here since the day we met. That isn’t true.”

“You can’t tell me how I felt about you then, and you can’t tell me how I feel about you now. The one thing I have wanted since the day we met is to be with you,” he tells you, trying to fight back the tears, “And to find out that you were trying to deny that by thinking or stupid ways that you hate me? The way I cut my hair? My driving? You don’t even hate me enough to think of real reasons.”

You can’t find the words to say, pushing past him and heading down the street. You couldn’t take this. He was never supposed to find out about the list. You knew that you were overreacting, but he had no right to know about that. He had no right to spit that back in your face like he was.

“No, no, no,” you hear him say, Matthew stepping in front of you. “Look at me,” he says, his hands on your shoulders, shaking you. “How are you the one who’s mad here? You have no right to be mad at me for this.”

You look at him, swallowing hard. “I don’t? Now you don’t have the right to tell me how I feel. I gave you all of me, Matthew. You’re the only person I would ever let get that close to me. And to find out that you’ve been lying to me this entire time? You know what happened with Thomas.”

“Y/N, listen to me,” he starts, trying to get closer to you.

“No! Matthew, no,” you say, stepping away from him. “Whatever the fuck this was? It’s done.” You let out a sob, pushing past him and running down the street back towards your apartment, Matthew calling your name, watching you run away from him.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, chasing after you. You were both aware of how this looked, two people running down the street, the one leading in tears while the one trailing was on the brink. “Can you please just hear me out?” he asks, catching up to you. “I saw this list and I panicked. How would you like it if I started listing all the ways I hated you and used those for reasons to not want to be with you?”

“You have reasons you hate me?” you say, not wanting to look at him.

He groans, running his hands through his hair and down to his face. “Of course I don’t. There is nothing that I could think of that you do that would make me hate you. But fuck, Y/N. Ten reasons you hate me? You know how I feel about you. You know that you don’t hate me. So why are you doing this?”

You knew he was right, crying at the fact that you went along with Evelina’s stupid bet. But that didn’t matter to you. “Because I didn’t want to date you.”

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, his jaw clenched, clearly hurt by your words. “Then what is this? What have we been doing?”

“Nothing. You’re nothing more to me than my friend,” you lie, pushing past him. You knew he was going to follow you, no matter how much you didn’t want him to. This was just a stupid mistake. That’s all it was. This is exactly what you were afraid of happening when Evelina first brought it up and when Thomas had told you his feelings. You were going to lose him.

You get to your apartment, locking the door behind you. You press your back against the wall next to the door, sliding down and bringing your knees to your chest. This was just like with Thomas. This was worse than what happened with Thomas. You were reliving what was the worst day of your life, except now it was with another guy.

----------

“You guys are moving to Calgary?” Thomas asked you, sitting down on your bed. You had texted him that night to tell him you had to talk to him, him rushing over as soon as he could. “Why are you going there? You aren’t going to know anyone.”

“Well, we’ll make friends. We got these amazing job offers out there, Thomas, we can’t turn them down.” He won’t look at you, staring down at his hands with his eyebrows scrunched together. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Don’t go,” he let out, looking up at you. His eyes were shining, filled with tears that were begging to fall.

“What? No, I can’t do that. Evelina already found an apartment for us out there. We’ve already accepted the jobs.”

“Don’t go,” he said again, still not looking at you.

“Why?”

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “I’m in love with you. I always have been. You can’t leave.”

“Thomas,” you let out, trying to process what he just told you. “You-you’re my best friend, you can’t be in love with me,” you stammer out, trying not to panic even though you were doing a horrible job at hiding it.

“You don’t love me, do you?” he asked, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

“I don’t think I love you the same way you love me.”

He nodded, running his tongue along his teeth. “Awesome,” he laughs, pain in his voice. “Have fun in Calgary,” He got up, leaving you there on your bed as you tried to figure out what just happened.

“Thomas, wait!” you called after him, stopping him before he can open your door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving. I can’t be friends with someone when I love them. Especially when they don’t love me back,” he said, pushing past you.

You stood in the doorway shocked at what just happened. The tears were falling down your face as you watched your best friend walk down the hallway, the last time you would see him.

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

You pull yourself up off the floor, heading to the kitchen to get some water. There was no way this was happening to you again. You couldn’t be losing yet another guy because he thought he was in love with you.

At least last time, you didn’t have the same feelings for him. You didn’t even know how you felt about Matthew. He’s your best friend, the guy you go to for everything, the one you spend all your time with. You can act however you want around him, say whatever you want to him. He’s the perfect guy for you.

Except that he’s been lying to you this entire time.

You hear the door unlock, hoping that it was Evelina. Whoever it was slammed the door, going towards the bedrooms. “Fuck,” you hear him mutter, freezing at his voice.

You knew he would follow you here. “Matthew?” you call, trying to figure out where he was in your home. “Matthew, get out.”

“No. We need to talk about this,” he yells from your room, trying to follow your voice. It wasn’t like your apartment was that big that he wouldn’t be able to find you in the kitchen. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this tonight. I want to be with you. Only you. I want you to be my girlfriend.” He finally finds you, slowly walking up to you as if he were afraid you would run from him. “Why don’t you want to be with me?”

You let out a sob, looking away from him. You knew he was hurt over this; you were too. “It’s gonna ruin everything.”

“That’s not a given. This could be so great. This already was so great.” You both stand there in silence, not sure what to say. “Do you want me to be your boyfriend?”

Did you? He made you so happy. There was no guy that you would rather be with. But he’s Matthew. He came into your life as soon as Thomas left, filling that hole that you left at home when you moved to Calgary. He was supposed to just be like Thomas, just be your best friend and nothing more.

He slowly lifts his hand to your cheek, the pad of his thumb whipping away the tears on your cheek. “I hate to see you cry like this, but Y/N, I need to know: what am I to you?”

“You’re just my best friend,” you tell him, his hand falling from your cheek. “You need to go Matthew. I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“Matthew, she said leave,” you hear from the door way. You both snap your attention to Evelina standing there, keys still in hand, your bag on her arm.

“Ev, you can’t be serious,” Matthew says, walking towards her.

“Out! Now!” she yells, both of you jumping at the sudden change in her tone. He looks back and forth between you and your roommate, panic washing over him. This couldn’t be happening to you two. “Do I have to fucking drag you out, Tkachuk?”

He finally leaves, Evelina rushing over to hug you as you crumbled in her arms, watching Matthew leave your apartment.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #calgary flames #calgary flames imagines #nhl #nhl imagines #flames #flames imagines #hockey #hockey imagines

253 notes · View notes

lizbotw · 4 years

Note

Karasuno popsicle eating competition? 👀👀👀 (i saw you were bored so-)

Karasuno Popsicle Eating Competition

choco omg i loved this concept even though i was definitely not expecting it in the middle of fall, but also, i absolutely get. i spent all night thinking about this so thank you, you successfully cured my boredom, and now here it is, i finally wrote out all of my ideas. please enjoy because i had way too many thoughts about this ♡

Karasuno

100% Nishinoya’s idea.

What? He literally adores Garigari-kun popsicles. A proper popsicle enthusiast and therefore of course it would be none other than him that would come up with such a plan.

You would probably be walking home with the second-years after practice after a quick stop into Coach Ukai’s store to pick up snacks on the way.

Classic meat buns and crinkly packs of chips that always felt like they contained more air than well... chips—that’s what most of you had gotten. But Nishinoya? It was him and his trusty popsicle (soda flavored of course).

You had to stop too many times to keep track of because he kept devouring them before you could even blink and somehow the lucky bastard kept getting the ones with the sticks that qualify you to get another popsicle for free. You best believe he was cashing those in instantly.

You bumped Tanaka with your shoulder to get his attention, not taking your eyes off of the back of Noya as he disappeared up the hill and back to the store. “Why doesn’t he just buy a whole box of them at this point?”

“Mmm,” Tanaka hummed in agreement, hand deep in his bag of potato chips. He stuffed a few more in his mouth, crunching in thought. “Good point.”

Noya was never gone more than a few seconds and you didn’t even get the chance to reply before he came barreling down the hill, blue wrapper in his hand—prize secured it seemed.

The group didn’t resume walking just yet, waiting to see if finally Noya’s reign of exploiting Ukai’s store for free frozen treats would come to an end. (You were hoping the stick at the center of the popsicle would turn out to be blank, not have another cheesy message about how “You won an extra popsicle! Take this stick to any participating retailer to cash it in.”)

“Aren’t you tired of running back and forth?” That was Ennoshita, chewing on his meat bun and looking like he very much wanted to go home.

Noya pulled the popsicle out of his mouth to reply, tongue already stained blue. “Nope! It’s good cardio, plus I get a reward at the end!” As if to prove his point, Noya punctuated the end of his sentence by shoving the popsicle back into his mouth. It wouldn’t be long until he reached the stick and you guys would (potentially) have to wait another five minutes for him to repeat the process all over again.

“It makes sense to buy more than one though. We’re never going to get home at this rate,” Ennoshita grumbled. He was clearly too tired to be dealing with this or he would have dragged Noya away from the store by his ear a long time ago.

Before Noya could bring up the benefits of running up and down a hill in the middle of the night (on a school night nonetheless) again, Tanaka cut in. “Yeah, why don’t you buy an extra one for me, dude. Then we’ll match!”

It was like a switch was flipped and Noya’s eyes lit up, widening. “Dude, great idea!”

“Right? It was (Y/N)’s idea actually.”

“Tanaka, that was not what I said.” You were quick to defend yourself, casting a nervous side glance at Ennoshita who was already glaring daggers at you.

“Either way, I still think it’s a good idea. I’ll be right back-”

“Oh no you don’t.” Ennoshita grabbed a hold of the back of Noya’s shirt to prevent him from running off (he’d already gotten in position to run up the hill—getting two steps in before he’d been stopped—and if Ennoshita had been a second slower Noya would have gotten away completely).

“Even if you did get one for Ryuu, I don’t know if it’d be very fair,” Narita cut in. Clearly he was just being nice and thinking about everyone, but words had a tendency to get twisted when it came to matters like this, especially when the other second-years were involved.

“Yeah, what are the rest of us, Yuu? Chopped liver?” Kinnoshita finished off his meat bun and crumpled the empty napkin he’d been holding it with into a small ball in his hand to throw away later. He was smirking mischievously and you could tell he wasn’t exactly opposed to the idea of free popsicles.

“True. You really should be offering to get all of us one.” Of course Ennoshita was the one to deliver the final blow. The trio could be real menances when they wanted to be and judging by the look they all shared, they were clearly enjoying poking fun at Noya.

And of course Nishonya took their words seriously, a thoughtful expression taking over his features. Sarcasm? Not detachable when it came to popsicles. “You’re right.” Uh oh… Nishinoya having that faraway look in his eyes was never a good sign. “And if I get it for all of you then… I should just get for the entire team!” His voice increased in volume as he spoke until he had the sudden epiphany at the end that he shouted. Energized by the thought, he made to go run towards the store again but seemed to forget the vice grip Ennoshita still had on him.

Nishinoya struggling against the hold and Ennoshita trying to pull him back so you guys could finally go home and work on your excessive amount of homework quickly turned into a yelling match. You should have known it would turn out this way...

It looked like things were about to get messy, so you decided to intervene, speaking hurriedly before someone lost a limb in the scuffle. “I think it’s a good idea. Let’s just all go ask Ukai now if we can have popsicles tomorrow for practice and then we can go home.” You said the last part looking pointedly at Ennoshita—listen, you were also tired so you knew exactly how to get through to him. How Noya could keep going like this after a full day was beyond you.

There were a few more moments of grumbling and arguing but eventually everyone caved and agreed. And thus you six made the trek back up the small incline to the store perched off to the side. (“No, Nishinoya, we can’t ask him to bring only soda flavored ones. Where is the variety?”)

The jingle of the bell had Ukai looking up from the magazine he was reading and he fixed all of you with an exasperated stare. “You six again? Don’t you have homework or something?”

It didn’t take much convincing to get him on board and he waved a dismissive hand, leaning back in his chair, cigarette between his lips, and opening back up his magazine. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just get home already. I don’t want to be responsible for you getting back so late.”

He for sure delivered on his promise because the next day at practice you found a cooler hidden away in the storage closet in the gym. About an hour into a grueling practice session, he called for a break and revealed the surprise (thank god because Nishinoya had been buzzing with anticipation all day, almost spilling the secret several times, and you were sick and tired of it, please send help).

To say the team was excited was an understatement. The sweltering heat of the gym wasn’t exactly ideal and everyone was dying to go out into the summer sun—at least in the outdoors you had the chance of a light breeze whispering across your neck and relieving some of the suffocating tension of the weather.

Moving everything outside, you helped set up the cooler in the nearby school field.

Takeda was surprised that Ukai even considered doing something like this out of the blue and you overheard Ukai admit that he had been working the team pretty hard for the past few days and that they deserved a break.

The atmosphere was relaxed as some of the team members took up residence on the grassy field, sitting among the bright green and running their hands over the cushiony ground as they got situated.

Leave up to Nishoinya to completely ruin that.

Parking himself right in front of the cooler near the top of the hill and thus preventing anyone from gaining access to the mouthwatering treats inside, he declared, hands on his hips for emphasis, “We should make this a competition!”

Daichi was not having it. “Nishinoya, get down from there, we are not-”

“Challenge accepted!” Hinata and Kageyama were already glaring at each other, determination written all over their faces. (You’re pretty sure either Tanaka or Nishinoya told him some lie before about how eating an ungodly amount of popsicles would make him better at volleyball.) At this point, they were simply waiting for Nishinoya’s signal to begin.

“Now that’s the spirit! Let’s start!” And with that Noya stepped away from the cooler with a dramatic sweep of his arm, bowing low. That’s all the confirmation Hinata and Kageyama needed before they made a beeline for the cooler—you should make sure not to get in their way during this part because they are taking this very seriously.

Tsukishima would just scoff at their childishness, telling them to hurry up and move because they’re hogging all the space.

Tsukishima would not participate in “stupid competitions” of any kind, although he would take a popsicle (begruidngly so after Yamaguchi kept pestering him to do so; secretly he really wanted one though).

You could probably find Tsukishima sitting on the gym steps, rolling his eyes at Hinata and Kageyama. He was also the perfect distance away to throw snide comments at them without risking his safety. Just adding fuel to the flames from the sidelines—that was his role.

Yamaguchi would be perched faithfully next to him eating his own popsicle and Yachi would be leaning up against the side of the gym building since there was no more space left on the steps, talking with him. She kept getting over excited or focusing too much on the conversation though, so the sticky juice of her melting popsicle would be trickling down her arm before you could warn her.

She gets very embarrassed over the whole thing once you point it out and then when she’s busy flailing her arms in apology, that just gets the juice everywhere and then she feels even worse about it, and it’s a whole cycle from there.

If you wanted to join the trio, Tsukishima would not be willing to give up his spot on the steps, but if you kept bothering him about it, he’ll probably give in eventually to get you to shut up or you could take your chances trying to shove him over.

Yamaguchi would take pity on you and squeeze over a bit so you would have room, even though he barely had any space for himself.

Or honestly just go stand next to Yachi, she would be more than happy to have someone else to talk to. The only thing is you have to keep an eye on her melting popsicle or else the above scenario will probably happen except you’ll be right next to her when it does. I sure hope you didn’t wear your favorite shirt today.

Kiyoko is the unofficial referee for the competition.

She was appointed after a unanimous vote was taken between Tanaka and Nishinoya—yes, only those two got a say in it—and technically she would be the official referee if not for the fact that the official default for Karasuno is always pure chaos. Rules? There were no rules. Was this even a competition anymore? Why is everyone taking this so seriously? Does no one have any ideas for a prize for the winner? Why is Asahi on the floor?

Speaking of Asahi, he’s in charge of giving out the popsicles and supervising them in the cooler.

Noya tried to get him to join in on the real action of competing, but Suga and Daichi were absolutely against it because Asahi just looks like he would win. To them, that was automatically cheating (poor Ashai).

Kiyoko helps him out because she doesn’t have much of a job if the boys are doing whatever the hell they want anyway.

Please go hang out with those two at the cooler. You’ll have direct access to all of the popsicles (you now hold all the power) and you can actually relax and have a calm conversation—perfect for some lounging around in the sun. And if you did want to witness the chaos of the competition? Well you also have a front row seat to that. It’s a win-win situation honestly.

Nishinoya and Tanaka were, of course, a part of the competition with Hinata and Kagayama. Now the debate of whether the challenge was to eat as many popsicles as possible or to just eat a certain amount as fast as possible was up in the air because by God, they were doing both. That couldn’t be healthy.

Daichi originally started off just watching from the sides, shaking his head in disapproval and barking reminders at them to slow down lest they choke while on his watch.

Suga was next to him of course, eating his own popsicle and telling him not to be such a stick in the mud. He was enjoying this a little too much and honestly was already hatching a mischievous plan to join in on the chaos himself. Definitely cheers for everyone in order to rile up the situation further and then elbows Daichi in the gut when he tells him to stop encouraging them.

On one such occasion, as he rubbed at the sore spot on his side that Suga kept hitting, Daichi narrowed his eyes at the popsicle in his friend’s hand, taking special notice of it now. “Suga… what flavor is that?”

“Cherry. Why?” He continued eating innocently, although he had an inkling of where this was going to go.

“Didn’t you have two cherry ones already?”

“...maybe.”

There was a gasp of betrayal. “You know those are my favorite! You’re trying to eat all of them before me aren’t you!”

The bold accusation leads to them sharing a look and a tense beat of silence passing before they both sprint to the cooler, digging among the other flavors for the highly coveted cherry.

“It’s mine!”

“No, you have to learn to share!”

They inadvertently end up in the competition through this alone, grabbing as many cherry popsicles as they can and piling their arms high.

You have to remind them that the popsicles are going to melt if they keep that up and then there will really be none left, which then sends them into a new flurry of ripping open the packages and chomping down on the glistening red treat inside.

If you join in on the competition, I hope you have a big appetite because everyone involved is not slowing down anytime soon. They’ve doubled over due to brain freeze a few times already but that doesn’t seem to be stopping any of them. If you chicken out at some point, you will be socially outcasted. You have been warned.

Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita are actually being normal and sitting a bit away on the grass, eating their popsicles at a normal rate (not scarfing them down like some people) and actually enjoying themselves.

Ideal group to join—lots of space to sit near them and stretch out on the field, good view of the uh… “competition” (can it really even be still considered that? what do you call the absolute chaos that’s going on there? honestly, why is no one stopping them? where are you, coach? isn’t this your job?) but still a safe distance away from the chaos, and lots of things to discuss. That’s right, these three know all the drama going on in school so sit back, eavesdrop on the gossip, and enjoy. You may or may not choke on your popsicles a few times because how do they even know these things.

Lean back on the grass and bask in the sunlight with these three—the good vibes are there. You’ll probably all end up laying down in the grass after you finish eating and just talking, poking fun at each other and rolling around in the grass in laughter at the latest antic or joke you’ve come up with.

Coach Ukai probably should have thought this over a bit more because it’s hard to get anyone back to practice after having this small taste of freedom (also tensions are still high after the competition so no one wants to work with each other anyway—let’s hope the grudges don’t last long), so he basically gives up for the day and dismisses “practice” early (it had already spiraled way past that at this point so the term was used loosely).

Everyone who was involved in the competition either never wants to hear the word popsicle ever again or they’re feral for more once the cooler is empty (Nishinoya).

Who would’ve thought a normal walk home would turn out like this?

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toastedside · 3 years

Text

Valentine Blurbs

Batboys (+ Bruce) Valentine Blurbs.

Note: Happy valentine! It’s a month full of love, meaning I can find reason and indulge myself in these fic while pouring my heart for my boys. I hope you find the warmth of love and a little bit of happiness in this.

Prompt: Different ways to say I love you.

Bruce – “I’d rather just hang out with you, if I am honest.”

The ballroom was lavish, gold and black glittered around the room like a prideful emperor march around the city. It was filled with people dressed like they’re going to flaunt everything they have in their pocket, polite laughter and chatter mixed together in the air. You smiled politely as you tried your best to follow Mrs. Harris’s conversation about whatever it is about the latest gossips of the Gotham Elite. She’s an old lady that never learn how to stick her nose into where it belongs, and you hate to admit that some of her stories are indeed interesting.

Champagne on your hand was half empty, and your feet started to get hurt from standing too long. Even after a long way of attending galas and rich parties alike, you’d never get used to it. Maybe you get better at it, sure, but galas are suffocating and painfully exhausting.

You excused yourself after finishing your champagne, eyes darted around to find a slightest sight of your husband. It no longer surprised you, or anyone really, that he had a knack to slip away undetected from this kind of event. You walked through the empty and dark hallways, knowing exactly where he would be as your feet brought you into the balcony.

“I believe we have guests and party to attend, Mr. Wayne,” you greeted him as you inhaled the cold breeze. It was a welcomed change from the suffocating ballroom.

You saw Bruce’s lips twisted upwards. His hand stretched out in a silent invitation for you to join him, in which you gratefully accepted. “I’d rather just hang out with you, if I am honest.”

“It’s an important one. We worked days and night for this.”

“There’s no way to convince you to sneak out from this party, no?” he raised an eyebrow. You wanted nothing but to scowl at him for able to read you like an open book.

“If we go back a little while for ten minutes top, you’d get to hang out with me alone for the rest of the night.”

Bruce smiled. So wide and bright that you were sure the moon above was ashamed of his smile alone. He pulled you gently closer to him, planted a soft kiss into your hairline as he muttered, “Sounds good to me.”

Dick – “I dreamt about you last night.”

Dick pressed his phone lazily into his ear. His eyes still closed as he battling away the drowsiness that kept pulling him in and out of sleep. He could feel the sunlight slowly seeped into his room through the blinds as he listened patiently to the monotone ring on his phone.

“Hello?” you answered after the fifth ring. He figured you’d be out for work by now, but he couldn’t risk to wait for another minute. He smiled as soon as your voice blessed his ear.

“Hey babe,” he greeted. Voice still thick with sleep. “I dreamt about you last night.”

He could hear your breathless chuckle, as if the air had been sucked out of your lungs out of surprise. His lips involuntarily tilted upwards upon hearing your chuckle. Dick reckoned it’s a muscle memory at this point that the corner of his mouth would immediately turn upwards at the sound of your laughter.

“Oh yeah? What was it about?” you asked. Dick could hear the wide smile on your face. He closed his eyes and the image of you smiling with raised eyebrows popped inside his brain.

“You.”

“Hmm, I hope it was a nice one.”

“It was!” he said as he sat up on his bed. Suddenly felt more awake as his brain wrecked hard to replayed the pleasant dream he had. “I slept good and happy. Thanks to you.”

Jason – “I did the dishes.”

Truth to be told, you didn’t know what to expect. You hadn’t had any particular expectation upon how your day would end up be like. The exam waiting for you in two days and endless list of deadlines had been the only thought that plagued your mind. Eating you alive as you tried to hold into the strands of sanity you had left.

You didn’t expect Jason to show up, standing in your kitchen with a sheepish smile as he said, “I did the dishes.”

To think about it, you just realize you haven’t seen him in three days.

You blinked at him. Brain still unable to process the event displayed in front of you. You had come out from your room and head to the kitchen to grab an ice cream. Instead, you found a tall man stood in front of your kitchen sink and your three-days’ worth of dirty dishes done. All squeaky clean and neatly tucked in the cabinet.

“Why?” was the only thing your exhausted brain managed to muster.

Jason shrugged. “I know your study can be overwhelming. Especially since exam week is coming.”

Suddenly, the thought of him filled your brain to the brim. There was no such room for words. Only overflowing thought of him and the feelings you harboured in your chest. Jason stared at you alarmingly, his eyes wide.

“I am sorry,” his voice was above whisper. “Did I upset you?”

You shook your head as you let out a wet chuckle. You hadn’t realized you had been crying. There’s no other place you’d rather be than his arms right now, so you headed straight away into your desired destination. You felt Jason relaxed underneath your touch, and you felt him smile as you captured his lips as you wordlessly said thank you.

Tim – “It reminds me of you.”

No, he had no reason. His eyes merely caught the glimpse of periwinkle and baby’s breath on his way for photo hunting. So bright and pure underneath the sunlight, tucked in the middle of concrete jungle. Like an oasis in the middle of a desert, bright and cheery and inviting. Almost looking like it was out of place.

Tim had subconsciously walked himself towards the flower shop. His camera in his hand, eyes staring straight into the periwinkle and baby’s breath placed next to one another. He couldn’t understand why he had held his breath upon such a mundane sight.

Flowers in a flower shop. Yet it was the most mesmerizing sight he had seen all day.

“What’s the occasion?” you let out a surprised laugh as he showed up and presented a bouquet of periwinkle and baby’s breath.

Tim pressed his lips together. He couldn’t put the dots on why he did what he did. Surprisingly enough he was content with the gnawing fact he had act on his impulse to bought you a bouquet of flowers. It was mesmerizing, beautiful, and he was left in stunned silence upon seeing it for the first time.

You looked up from your present to meet his eyes. A smile still persistently painted across your face. Tim sucked a breath in and held it altogether. Beautiful, he silently thought to himself, almost like it strung out of nowhere. A beauty in a such misshaped place his room is.

The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning in the daylight. He smiled as he shook his head. He knew he wasn’t the most romantic boyfriend in the whole world, but he would be dammed not to let you know.

“Nothing. It reminds me of you.”

Duke – “Call me when you get home.”

You watched him pouting from the doorframe. You had to physically restrain yourself from pulling him into your embrace and smoothen out the pout on his lips. But knowing Duke, that probably would end up cost you another hour of him clinging into your side.

Duke watched you with arms folded in front of his chest. He looked so mesmerizing underneath the twilight. The sky above was a hue of orange and pink, a hint of black appeared on the line of horizon. Yet your eyes locked into his.

“Stop pouting!” you reprimanded him with a laugh. “You’ve hogged my attention for two days.”

“You’re absolutely mental if you think it was enough.”

“I have my own apartment,” you pointed out, “that I need to occasionally visit and clean.”

Duke knew it was true. He always knew when to back out and when to stood on his feet from an argument with you. Something he had learned fairly fast and well enough. You watched him shook his head with a smile.

“Come here,” he said as he spread his arms. “Give me one last kiss before you go.”

You complied with rolled eyes. His embrace was warm and inviting, you almost not want to let go. He leaned closer to capture your lips and you met him halfway. It was a quick and short one, left you wanting for more.

“Call me when you get home.”

Damian – “I hope you like it.”

Damian clutched a small canvas to his side. He frowned at the sensation of his heart thump inside his ribcage painfully. The sound of loud chatter of his classmates had been drowned by the ringing on his ear. His fingertips felt uncharacteristically cold. Was it the air conditioner?

He let out a quiet sigh. Was it the symptom of flu? Did he accidentally got exposed to a poison during his patrol? He was pretty sure he was fine in the morning. Days before that as well. So, what’s with the pounding heart?

His eyes darted around the packed hallway; mouth pressed together as he silently muttering your name. It was a tedious and hard job to find a person in a packed crowd, let alone a bunch of loud students on a break in a school hallway.

“Damian, hey!” it was you who had spotted him at first. Looked around like a lost and kicked puppy in the middle of a bustling city.

It has always been a funny thing between you two that he hadn’t understand. For some reason, you always had a knack to spot him in a bustling crowd when he hadn’t able to spot you. One thing that escalated almost immediately as soon as friendship blossomed between you and him. He approached you silently, the coldness on the tip of his finger had spread throughout his arms.

“I made you this,” he said as he discreetly shoved a small canvas into your hand. It was a beautiful painting of Alfred’s rose bushes in the garden. He had vaguely recalled you nonchalantly said wanting to see a rose bush in person. “I hope you like it.”

Damian immediately walked away towards his next class before you had a chance to speak. He knew eventually he had to talk about his painting and let you properly said thank you. But for now he would need to find a place to tame his erratic heart and his cold fingers.

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soft-for-them · 4 years

Text

Shrapnel ♡ Mission Impossible x reader

Anon 🐛: Hello! If possible, I’d like to request a platonic IMF team x fem reader, where reader gets injured somehow on a mission and the team tries to help patch her up but she’s extremely self-conscious and keeps refusing to let them remove an item of clothing for better access to the wound or something (eventually giving in, of course). Hope you have a great day! :)

I’m going for the ethan, benji, luther and ilsa team because they are my favourite IMF team so I guess this is set after fall out. Female reader. injury mentioned.

Proof read, edited and remastered on 20.10.2021

The mission was supposed to be a small one but all of the team had gotten injured somehow making the small job a lot harder.

Sure, the gang you and the team were tasked to take down weren’t a threat to the whole wide world like the Syndicate and August Walker, which was your first ever field mission with the IMF, a mission that cemented you as a permanent member of the team. However, now you, Benji and Ilsa stand out of breath and waiting for either Luther to drive up in the get away car or for Ethan to somehow ‘save the day’ like he always seems to do.

The IMF team has successfully defeated the rouge gang but in the process the building behind you in burning up like fireplace from the explosion that was caused moments ago.

Benji and Ethan were closest to the impact of the bomb without being in direct contact with the flames but you had pulled Benji out the way of a window that had shattered from the fire causing a slight pain in your torso.

The both of you have assumed that Ethan had survived like he always does so all you need to do now is wait.

“Hurry up, hurry up.” Benji mutters to himself as Ilsa tries to treat a gash on his arm and the scratches adorned his face. The blonde man winces as she ties his arm up with the remnants of non burnt bits of his jacket.

“You’re lucky that (y/n) pulled you away when she did.” both Ilsa and Benji give you a thankful smile, “You could have been pierced in the gut by some shrapnel or be burnt alive but the fire.”

“I should have stayed at my desk job.” You chuckle at the two agents as Benji starts swatting Ilsa’s hands away from his arm.

“Same here!” Benji jokes for he knows what it’s like to be pulled from your desk job to an action packed agent life.

You laugh some more but not because you find it particularly funny, you do always joke with Benji about stuff like that but you’re not laughing because of that. No, you’re laughing for you feel a stinging pain in your side and you’re trying to hide your pain.

When you had pulled Benji from the explosion you had gotten hit too. Sure, you thought it was just some cuts and lots of inhaling of black smoke but as you hunch down further you realise that the shrapnel might of hit you instead of Benji.

All the adrenaline and the fact that you haven’t looked down at your now bleeding side means that the pain isn’t as bad as it will become.

“(Y/n) are you ok?” the concerned voice of Benji calls out to you, the sweet man’s concern for you making you look up with a small smile.

“I just-“ what do you say to him? Do you lie to them both? Can you even lie to them? “I’m still out of breath from all the running and smoke Benji.”

Your voice is hoarse from the smoke and you’re face looks fine but not convinced by your act Ilsa gets up to check over you.

Thankfully for you she is interrupted by Luther pulling up in a four door green family car one a mother would driver her kid into school.

“Where’s Ethan!?!” he shouts concern in his voice.

A mixture of Benji, Ilsa and you answering is heard, all saying around about the same thing of ‘he got away!’ satisfies the hat wearing agent for now.

Ilsa tries to help you up to the car but you brush her off and make her go to Benji who is wobbling around like a newborn deer. With a prolonged inhale of now clean air you shuffled to the car, opening one of the side doors to clamber into.

Ilsa and Benji take the seats furthers to the back of the six seater car and you flop across the middle seats, leaving Luther on his own in the front of the car.

“Ahhhh!” you exhale with a small scream like sound which gets everyone’s attention on you.

“You’re not ok (L/n)!” Ilsa shouts about to climb over into the middle seats.

“I’m fine my lungs just hurt from the smoke!” technically that’s a half truth but really the pain is from wound trickling blood down your side.

Ilsa is interrupted once more by a small flash of Ethan Hunt running up near the family car windows.

Such a small man can run too fast.

With all your strength you lean up and open the sliding door for Ethan to jump in. The small man catapults himself next to you in the little space you’ve left. His hair is singed by the fire and his face is covered in sweat and ash but he climbs over into the passenger seat next to Luther just fine.

“Of course you survived!” Benji calls out half jokingly half in relief.

The blur of Ethan and Luther talking lulls you into a sleepy state, the pain of your side almost disappearing. However, you’re snapped out of your sleepy trance but the ever so slightly frantic voice of Ilsa.

“Luther drive quicker!” She frantically says as she finally scales over the seat to you.

You’re too out of it to move your legs so the woman basically lifts them up like you’re a child hogging the sofa. With worry she looks at your side which is less dark blur from you coat but more rich purple from the blood imbedding into the fabric.

“Damn, she was hit by the blast hard!” Ilsa sounds panicked as your try to keep your eyes open.

It’s all a blur but you see Benji pass the medical kit to her and you feel Luther picking up speed in the small minivan.

”Why didn’t you tell me?” Ilsa says as she tries to lift up your coat and shirt.

“No.” you push her away, “It isn’t bad.”

“Have you looked at it (y/n)?” Benji asks which you reply with a shake of the head.

“I was- I was runnin-“ you start to disconnect with the world, slurring your words as your eyes begin to close.

“Stay with me (L/n).” Ilsa says as she tries to lift your shirt.

“Nooooo, you’ll see my body.” you whine in your out of it state self, the words turning into nothing as you drift away.

You look over to your dear friend Benji, who you always joke with your blurry eyes seeing a man near to crying.

“Benji. Imma ok, I don’t feel it that much.”

Ilsa tries again to lift your shirt which by any rate will be most blood if you don’t let her lift it soon.

“Ilsa no… I don’t want you to see my body, I hate it…” you gasp.

In any given time you wouldn’t of been so truthful but maybe the lack of blood or the humming feeling of tiredness has turned off you thinking.

“You are beautiful but you will be less beautiful if you bleed to death.” With her normally stoic facade down she starts to plea with you, “Please (y/n), let me help!”

“…Huh, uh, as long as the men in this vehicle look away.” you slur as the pain starts to get slightly worse.

All of the men look away from you; Benji sitting back down in his seat, Ethan fiddling with hidsen gun and Luther looking back to the road.

Ilsa takes your top layers off showing the bit of glass digging out of your side blood making you (colour) skin deep red. You look down to see just how bad the injury is only to feel a huge wave of pain drown you and the urge to pass out.

“Looking at it makes it worse.” Ilsa says as she applies pressure to wound without taking the large bit of glass out.

“We’re almost here!” Luther calls as he magically slides the car under a closing garage door, he carries on driving to a lower level where he stops the car and he immediately gets out to help you along with the rest of the IMF.

“No looking at my bra!” you whine as Luther slides open the door closets to your head, Ilsa making sure you don’t fall backwards.

“We’re looking at that thing in your side (y/n) not you boobs!” Benji jabbers is in a flurry as he tries and help with you.

Ilsa and Luther get you out and lead you to a door, which Benji opens, Ethan not far behind talking to someone on the phone.

“We have an agent who need urgent medical treatment!” he urges as you hobble with Luther and Ilsa inside.

It has now been a month since your injury and the ragged piece of glass than had scared your side in now displayed on your desk, a reminder that you’re lucky that you aren’t dead.

For the last most since then Benji has been acting like an overprotective best friend telling you that you shouldn’t be ashamed of who you are along with some dad jokes sprinkled in to make you smile.

Luther and Ethan have been more concerned about your health and healing but you still got a talking to from the men about how the IMF don’t judge anyone for what they look like. (That conversion was mostly from Ethan and Luther nodding his head in the background.)

You’re still in shock about how much Ilsa had cares for you. She had called you by your first name and she had also called you beautiful, a thing she had never done before that day.

Even now in-between missions as you sit behind a desk you’ll get a short and sweet text from her asking how your are.

You stretch out in you spinny chair with a relieved sigh.

There’s still a long way to go with excepting your body but with all that had happened to you feel more comfortable with yourself and the IMF team.

Edit: Proof reading may still be off because I’m tired, still love Benji and Ilsa.

Old description:

Did i write this right after i got the request? yes, but i don’t know how good this is. it’s too late for all this writing but i did it!

also i want to write an ilsa x plus size reader and/or a benji x plus size reader because i love them both! (i get gay panic for ilsa and i just find benji adorable!)

#mission impossible #mission impossible x reader #ethan hunt x reader #benji dunn x reader #ilsa faust x reader #luther stickell #ilsa faust #benji dunn #ethan hunt #x female reader #x tall reader #x plus size reader #x chubby reader #x poc reader #x petite reader #x ftm reader #tw blood #tw injury

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emmie-fitzgerald · 2 years

Text

20 Questions: Answers for Sadhbh

@happysadhbh

Honestly, I have no idea what she would answer for like half of these but like I’m going to try to think like Sadhbh and we’ll see how I fucking do. But like the ones I really don’t know well I’m going to have fun with

Who is your celebrity crush? WE HAVEN’T TALKED ABOUT THIS??? I don’t know the only Irish celebrity I can think of off the top of my head that’s sexy enough to be crush worthy is Evanna Lynch

What is your favorite color? Blue

What are 2 of your favorite hobbies? Reading

What do you do for a living/what is your occupation? Teacher

Fill in the blank: “I am one of the world’s best ____” Singers

Fill in the blank: “I am one of the world’s worst ____” Customers (though not a Karen)

It’s your night to pick a movie. Will you pick something action-packed, laugh out loud funny, or something in the family-feelgood genre? Definitely laugh out loud funny, have you met her?

About what range is the number of shoe pairs you own: around 10, 20-30, 40-50, or 60+? 60+

When it comes to fashion, are you more about wearing what looks good or wearing what feels comfortable? Looks good - don’t think I haven’t noticed that all her clothes are designer (like who wears designer clothes on a show like this though like that just feels like she’s throwing away money)

About how long does it usually take you to get ready to go out: 10 minutes, 20 minutes, 1 hour, or >1 hour? 1 hour. I don’t know anyone who has that many fancy clothes who doesn’t take at least an hour.

What cuisine is your favorite? Irish? Is that even a cuisine? It just feels right.

Are you almost always early, late, or on time to events? Early

What is your favorite season in the year? Spring

Which metal do you prefer: gold, silver or rose gold? Gut is saying rose gold. Trusting my gut.

Are you more of a homebody or are you full of wanderlust? Wanderlust. Again. Have you met her?

Where do you rank on the competitive scale: not at all, only for fun things, or competitive about most things? Not at all

Are you more logical and methodical (left brained) or creative and artistic (right brained)? Right brained

When sleeping, do you consider yourself a bed and blanket hog? Definitely seems like a blanket hog

If you could have a private music performance, what 1 band or artist would you have perform? Carly Rae Jepsen? Call Me Maybe just feels like a song that’s her vibe

Which version of shower singer are you: I don’t, I might if a song’s stuck in my head, or just about every shower is my own private concert. Every shower is a private concert.

#swtask

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justlookfrightened · 4 years

Text

Special delivery

Takes place in fall of Bitty’s junior year

Holster balanced the stack of boxes on his arm while he turned to shove the door closed with his foot.

“Rans, how much protein powder did you order?” he said, carrying the boxes towards the coffee table. “Like, a year’s supply?”

“That’s not all protein powder,” Ransom said. “The boxes aren’t all the same.”

“I did order tape,” Holster said. “And extra sheets. I forgot that I cut that one set up to make a toga last year.”

“And I got a new set of slides,” Ransom said. “I left mine at home by mistake.”

“You’ve been showering at Faber barefoot?” Holster turned back from the junk drawer with a utility knife and raised both eyebrows. “That is seriously disgusting, bro. We could have like, gone to Target or something.”

Ransom shrugged.

“I didn’t catch anything,” he said. “I don’t think.”

“Better you than me,” Holster said, inserting the tip of the knife into the tape that held the top box closed.

He slit the tape and pulled the box open. It was the smallest one, and kind of light, so maybe Ransom’s slides? He pushed the plastic packing material out of the way and to find a box of condoms.

“Ransom, are these yours?” he said, suddenly feeling a little sick. Sure, Ransom dated around, but an economy-size box of condoms? Maybe he ordered them for the Haus. They’d be good to have around, especially during kegsters. Encouraging good choices and all that shit.

“What?” Ransom peered into the shipping carton. “Trojans? No. I use Durex.”

“Right,” Holster said, stifling the giggle that wanted to bubble up. He knew that. He’d seen the box -- a normal-size box -- in the attic. “I thought maybe you got them, just, you know, to have around. In case someone ends up hooking up.”

“Like put out a bowlful during a party?’ Ransom said. “Sounds like something Shitty would do.”

“That doesn’t make it a bad idea,” Holster said.

“True,” Ransom said. “But I didn’t order them, and you didn’t order them. Who did?”

Holster flipped the top of the box back to read the address label.

“Eric Bittle … Bitty? Why would he need condoms? He hasn’t gone out with anyone since that rugby guy we screwed hin with last year, and that never went anywhere,” Holster said.

“Maybe he’s got a secret life, dude,” Ransom said.

“Like he’s getting out there without us knowing?” Holster said. “How? With who?” “He was away that last weekend before the home opener,” Ransom said.

“He was visiting that cousin, he said,” Holster said.

“He said,” Ransom said.

“You don’t really think … I mean, after screw last year I was pretty sure Bits was y’know, inexperienced,” Holster said.

“You know what Shitty says about virginity being a construct,” Ransom said.

“I didn’t say he was a virgin,” Holster said. “But speaking of Shitty … he and Bitty are close, right? Maybe it was Shitty, and he sent them to Bits. For the Haus. Like he knows Bitty wouldn’t hog them all himself.”

“I think Shitty was closer to Lardo than anybody,” Ransom said. “Except maybe Jack.”

“But he wouldn’t send a box of condoms to Lardo when he’s been pining after her all this time. That would be a little weird.”

“It’s Shitty,” Ransom said. “A little weird is his brand.”

“Whatever,” Holster said. “The problem is what we do now.”

“With what?”

“Unless you have a roll of that Amazon tape, Bitty’s gonna know we opened it and saw what was inside,” Holster said. “Think he’s going to be pissed?”

“Who’s this ‘we’ you speak of?” Ransom said. “I’m not losing pie privileges.”

“Some d-partner you are,” Holster said.

No, man, you're not thinking clearly,” Ransom said. “If he’s mad at both of us, then neither of us get pie. If he’s just mad at you, I get pie. I bring it to the attic, and you can have some.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course,” Ransom said. “You’re my partner. Well, depending on the kind. And if Bitty lets me leave the kitchen with it. But sure.”

“Well, for now I’m just going to put this in his room,” Holster said. “Maybe he’ll be flustered enough to never mention it. But if he does figure out who opened it, I can chirp him to hell and back. It’s a win either way.”

****

Bitty saw the box on his bed as soon as he dropped his bookbag.

He had been about to strip out of his jeans, pull some shorts on and start a pie, but there the Amazon box, tape slit neatly down the middle.

“Oh, lord,” he said, tiptoeing towards his bed like he could sneak up on the box.

It didn’t have to be the condoms he ordered, he reasoned. He hadn’t ordered anything else, but maybe someone else did. Maybe Jack sent him more French picture books, or his mother sent another sweater. But why would the box be open?

Maybe it was something from someone in the Haus. Maybe Chowder’s aunt had sent the shark cookie cutters he kept talking about, and he left them for Bitty. Sure.

Nope, the label clearly had his name on it. Bitty pulled the flap back, and sure enough, there was the box of Trojans nestled in plastic padding.

Fuck. All he’d wanted was to be prepared if Jack was able to sneak a visit to the Haus sometime. Sometime when everyone else was not around and he could get to Bitty’s room unseen. Sure, maybe 36 condoms was optimistic. So sue him. Once he and Jack got together, he figured out that he liked sex.

Bitty left the box where it was and stalked to his bedroom door. When he opened it, Chowder was just heading out of his room.

“Chowder, sweetheart, you didn’t by any chance put an Amazon box in my room, did you?”

“No,” Chowder said. “Wasn’t me. Is there a mistake or something?”

“Only in having packages sent here,” Bitty muttered.

Aloud, he said, “Do you have any idea who might have delivered it? Did you see anyone?”

“Um, no?” Chorder said, his face screwed up in thought. “Wait a minute -- when I got home a little while ago, Ransom and Holster were both heading down the hall toward the attic stairs. I thought it was weird that they’d both be using the hall bathroom at the same time, but I thought maybe one was waiting for the other one? Or whatever. It’s Ransom and Holster, you know?”

Bitty gave a curt nod.

“I know,” he said. “It’s Ransom and Holster.”

Chowder clattered down the stairs, no doubt off to meet Farmer, and Bitty went back in his room and closed the door to consider his options.

Option one was to simply never speak of it. Maybe they -- or one of them, but it didn’t really matter because they were both there in the hall -- maybe they simply opened the package by mistake, realized it, and put it in his room to avoid any further embarrassment on any of their parts.

Bitty was an adult man, he reasoned. He was allowed to have a sex life. His captains wouldn’t argue with that. Heck, they’d tried (and failed miserably) to facilitate it. The question was whether they could accept him having a sex life and not sharing the deets.

Option two was to confront them with the open box and ask who they thought they were, going through his mail. Mail tampering was a crime, wasn’t it? Maybe that didn’t extend to package deliveries, but the principle was the same. He could tell them that if they breathed one word about it -- to him or anyone else -- they could say goodbye to pie for the rest of the semester.

That option had its appeal, but it might do nothing more than show Ransom and Holster that that this was a sensitive topic for Bitty. Doing that would be like putting a big red button in the middle of his forehead that said, “Push me.” They wouldn’t be able to resist.

So back to option one. He wouldn’t say anything if they didn’t.

****

For a while, the topic of the Amazon delivery that mysteriously made its way -- opened -- to Bitty’s room didn’t come up.

Bitty could have forgotten it, almost. Maybe he would have, if he didn’t notice Holster shooting him a curious glance when he announced he was going to spend the day in the library on a Sunday. Or if Ransom didn’t ask him -- twice -- if he’d figured out what his type was, so he and Holster could do a better job of hooking him up for Winter Screw this year.

So the box of condoms, now safely squirreled away at the back of his closet, didn’t tickle his brain much. Or at least its manner of arrival didn’t, not until Ransom and Holster started planning the post-midterms kegster.

“So,uh, you have anything to contribute, Bitty?” Ransom asked over breakfast a couple of das before the party. He had his laptop open and the party planning spreadsheet pulled up.

“Well, I was planning on making a few batches of cookies,” Bitty said. “And maybe some brownies … blondies if you think they’d go over. But no hand pies. They take too much work and no one appreciates them properly at a kegster.”

“I got all that,” Ransom said.

“He meant, like, what maybe Shitty suggested?” Holster asked.

“Oh, no, I am not doing that,” Bitty said. “I don’t mind making some special brownies for Shitty every now and again, when he asks and when he supplies the weed. But not for a party. I don’t want anyone to get confused or not know and end up high when they’re not expecting it. And I don’t want a reputation as that kind of a baker.”

“Wait … you’ve made Shitty pot brownies?” Holster said. “And you didn’t give us any?”

“It was his weed, Holster,” he explained again. “And it was over the summer, when I came up to stay with Jack. Y’all weren’t even around.”

“Jack has had pot brownies in his kitchen?” Holster asked, incredulous.

“No,” Bitty said. “I spent a day in Cambridge with Shitty, too. Lardo was there too if you don’t believe me.”

“See?” Ransom said.

“Fine,” Holster said. “But Bits, we’re thinking maybe Shitty reminded you to make sure everyone has a chance to be protected, y’know, in case the opportunity arises.”

“Protected?” Bitty said, feeling a bit nauseous.

“And lubricated,” Ransom said. “Just a little.”

“Just a little lubricated?” Bitty said. “I thought he left y’all the recipe for tub juice.”

“He did,” Ransom said. “And that’ll make you a lot lubricated, but not necessarily in a safe way.”

“Look, Bits,” Holster said. “We know about the box of Trojans you got. We figured maybe Shitty suggested that we put them out for parties, y’know, to help people make better decisions. Seemed like a Shitty thing to do.”

Bitty paused. He thought about going with it. Fluffing it off on Shitty trying to lecture the team all the way from Cambridge. But if he did that, he’d be playing into the false idea that Ransom and Holster had, the idea that in addition to looking twelve years old when he stood next to his huge and buff teammates, he was as inexperienced as a child. And he would have to give up the condoms he got for when Jack visited.

“No,” he finally said. “I bought those. For myself.”

“Bits, you don’t need a condom when you’re by yourself,” Holster said.

“I said I bought them for myself, not that I was going to use them by myself,” Bitty said. “And I’ll thank you not to go through my mail next time. I was willing to believe it was an accident, but here you are trying to get me to give up my property.”

“They’re condoms, Bitty,” Holster said. “Not the deed to Boardwalk.”

“Not the point.”

“How about this?” Ransom said. “You let us put the condoms out, because the more I think about it, it is a good idea. We keep whatever is left over in a stash for the Haus -- a stash you can use too if you want. You can take the money to cover the cost from the fine jar. Whether you use it to buy condoms or not … well, we won’t know, because we learned our lesson about checking the names on packages. What do you say?”

“Fine,” Bitty said. “If you insist.”

“Great,” Holster said. “Bring them down early so we can tear the strips apart.”

“Aye, aye, cap’n.”

The whole thing was ridiculous, Bitty thought, as he put down a full tray of cookies in the place of one that held only crumbs. The condoms were right there on the food table, arranged in a glass salad bowl. It looked like a few had already been taken.

It was silly for him to have bought so many anyway.

He was still looking at the bowl when he heard a Holster whoop from the area of the front door.

“Jack! We weren’t expecting you tonight! Excellent game yesterday.”

Bitty plucked a handful of condoms from the bowl and thrust them into his pocket.

****

Also posted to AO3 as part of Bits ‘n’ Pieces

#omgcheckplease #omg check please #zimbits #my fic

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painless-innit-colourful · 3 years

Text

‘Where I Go, Will You Still Follow?’ - A Clingyduo Fic from the Hunger Games AU

In the most ironic twist, I missed Tommy’s lore stream on Monday writing Clingyduo comfort/hurt (in that order). I wasn’t sure whether this fandom needed any more angst right now, but whatever, take this anyway. This fic is set in a Hunger Games AU where the characters of the Dream SMP reside in Panem and must compete in the Games. Only Tommy + Tubbo appear in this fic though. Angst reigns supreme on Reaping Day, where the boys face the possibility of being picked for the deadly Hunger Games for the first time. (Also I promise you don’t have to have read HG to get this.)

tw nothing really, they’re only being reaped here.

word count: 3102

On the morning of the reaping, two boys tread carefully through a desolate orchard.

At this time of year, the trees are mostly left to their own devices. In about six months their boughs will bear fruit, and there will be plenty of people scurrying to and fro beneath them collecting their bounty to be stored and sent to the Capitol. Those very boys will join them. However, on that late Spring morning there is no one about. During this season the trees require only the occasional pruning, and everyone’s still in bed this early anyway. No reason to get up on a day where you don’t need to. Public holidays like this are rare.

Tommy and Tubbo hold hands as they move through the trees. Old habit, they suppose, a defense mechanism against getting split up, for better or worse. With the number of people in their district it can make public gatherings hazardous for lonely children, and if there’s anything worse than getting caught alone in a stampede, it’s getting left behind in a chase. If one boy falls, so does the other. If one boy is caught with his hand in the larder, the other will be nearby. The two of them are a package deal: where one goes, the other follows.

They only stop when they’re sure they’re properly alone, deep in the orchard. It would take anyone hours to find them; it would take most people hours to get out from this point. But years spent traversing these paths - both from the ground and the branches above - have given them an instinctual knowledge on which way to go. They settle in beneath a large apple tree; lush and green now that the blossoms have since blown away. They go about unwrapping several grease paper packages that were previously weighing down their pockets as Tommy hums a tune to keep them company. Tubbo shuffles uncomfortably as they lay out a small breakfast of half a loaf of bread - dark and dotted with seeds, District 11’s signature - a petite disc of cheese that Tubbo suspects Tommy sat on at some point, and an apple each. Food they either squirreled away from the pantry at the orphanage or stole outright. The thought pinches Tubbo’s cheeks.

“What’s that sour face for?” Tommy asks him, flicking his eyes up every so often as he arranges the cheese on the bread with a tiny knife stashed in his boot and breaks the half-crescent of bread roughly in half. “You’re not still worried about getting caught.”

Tubbo sighs, and it tells Tommy all he needs to know. “C’mon! We covered our tracks and literally no one saw us.” When Tubbo’s expression doesn’t change, he puts a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. “Well, definitely no one saw you. I’ll take the hit for it, if they find out.”

“No, it’s- fine.”

“Your face says otherwise, my friend.” All the same, Tommy retracts his arm and finishes haphazardly spreading the cheese upon the bread. He nudges one of the apples towards Tubbo with his foot, “Here, start.”

“Excuse me, the apple comes after the main course, how dare you break tradition.”

“My apologies, my liege.”

The easy smile returns briefly to Tubbo’s face as they laugh, then quickly melts away again. Tommy fixes him with a sympathetic look. “What?” Tubbo asks, locking eyes with him as he finishes brutalising the cheese and hands him his half. “You’re worried about the reaping.”

“And you’re not?”

“Should I be?” When Tubbo gives him a sideways glare, Tommy shrugs. “Dude, it’s a tiny chance. Two in thousands and thousands. You’re more likely to get struck by lightning than have either of our names fished out of the bowl.” And though Tommy was likely skewing his numbers a bit, he supposed it was true. It was their first year of reapings and neither of them had taken any tesserae. They were about as safe as you could be between the ages of twelve and eighteen. Still…

“Besides,” Tommy continued. “If your name gets called, I’m sure someone would volunteer for you.” He barely makes it to the end of his sentence before Tubbo’s noise of dismissal drowns him out. “Yeah right. Let’s be realistic here.” Tommy leans back against the tree as he eats. Sunlight peeks through the branches at random intervals, illuminating him in softly glowing patches. He turns his head slightly and beckons Tubbo over with a nod. They shift their bodies and the food around until they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder between two large roots, and Tubbo finds that the sunlight is almost as warm as Tommy beside him.

They remain in that position for some time, eating their way through their swindled picnic. It’s a bit much for an ordinary breakfast, but it’s somewhat of a tradition to have something special on reaping day. Makes the hours standing in the square while the Mayor drones on about how it’s right to send two children to their deaths a bit more bearable. According to those traditions, you’re supposed to celebrate with a meal after the reaping too, though neither boy is quite sure where that convention came from. Not many in District 11 could afford it in any case.

At some point Tubbo drops a hand to the floor between them, and at some later instance Tommy places his where their fingers can interlace. “You’re nervous too.” Tubbo states without looking at his companion, instead remaining as he is, staring past the leaves to the clear blue sky. “No way.” Tubbo giggles at Tommy’s indignant tone. “A big man like me is not scared of being picked in the reaping.”

“Fearless he is, Big Man Tommy.”

“Too right!” They laugh, and the terror their giggles mask bubbles just beneath the surface, a pot mere seconds from boiling over.

“Look, Tommy,” Tubbo’s voice becomes serious, and Tommy’s laughter peters out. “It’s all well and good laughing and joking about it, but… In the event one of us is chosen…” Their eyes meet and Tubbo squeezes Tommy’s hand, to which Tommy returns the grip. “I need you to tell me you remember our promise.” In response, Tommy sighs, drops Tubbo’s hand, puts that arm around his best friend’s shoulder, pulls him close and runs his free hand through his hair, almost all simultaneously. “Yes of course I remember it.”

“And?” Tubbo replies expectantly.

“And what?”

“Say it, you dummy.” Tommy places his free hand over his heart like a salute. “I, Tommy Innit, promise my dearest friend Tubbo Underscore, that if he is chosen for the Hunger Games in this afternoon’s reaping, I will not volunteer to take his place.” He waits for Tubbo to relax, satisfied, before tacking on: “Thus letting him be led away to a faraway place to be on television then get brutally murdered, also on television. “ He can feel Tubbo’s eye roll without even looking. “You made me promise the same.”

“Yeah I did, didn’t I?” He admits quietly, leaning his head against his best friend’s, brown curls obscuring half his vision.

“It’ll be okay, right?”

“Yeah.” Tubbo’s hair smells faintly of apples, somehow. Tommy squeezes his best friend and hopes he won’t have to betray him.

Unbeknownst to him, Tubbo has the same thought.

---

The duo spend the hours before the reaping as they usually do: sleeping in each others embrace somewhere they technically shouldn’t be, pretending the clothes they have to change into back at the orphanage are any better than what they’re changing out of, and hogging the second floor bathroom for way longer than necessary. The black storm cloud that is the reaping casts a longer shadow than previous years, but they manage to ignore it for most of the morning with enough shenanigans to fill their quota for the year. The clouds threaten to burst however when the time reaches half twelve, and the parentless teenagers of the district begin to make their way towards the square where the ceremony will take place. The once-blue sky darkens as the crumbling facade of the Justice Building comes into view, as if nature were waiting for her cue, and Tommy wonders if he jinxed himself with his earlier comments about being struck by lightning.

He’s holding Tubbo’s hand again - standard crowd procedure - and he’s thankful for about the millionth time that they’re the same age. They head with the other twelve year old orphans to the corresponding pen for their age group, and find themselves sandwiched in the centre. Tubbo exchanges a few words with some of their peers, most likely to be ‘Good luck’, but Tommy’s not really concentrating. The square is already full and still there’s many more people to come, and with every person that joins the crowd there will only be more cramming the possible tributes together like sardines in a tin. There have been crushes at reapings before; they tell them in school about the reaping for the seventh games, where too many spectators packed the floor and there was a panic that killed four people, including one kid in the crowd. In an ironic twist, their name was later pulled from the ball, and their escort had to be informed live on stage in front of the entire nation that they’d died earlier that day.

Decidedly, the odds were not in their favour.

Tommy doesn’t like to admit it, but tight spaces get to him. And here, packed in by bodies with camera crews perched high on the rooftops over the crowd, scanning for the faces that will leave the district tonight, he feels like a fish in a barrel. “Hey-” Tubbo’s voice reaches him through the din of thousands of people talking at once, but he sounds a million miles away. He practically crushes Tubbo’s fingers with his own, and, in retaliation, Tubbo flicks him on the nose. He blinks at him angrily for a second, the distraction welcome despite his show of annoyance. “Breathe, Tommy.” He forces air in and out of his lungs for about thirty seconds just to make sure he still can. Tubbo traces stars on the back of his hand.

By the time the Mayor’s stepped up to the podium and began his yearly recitation of the history of Panem, Tommy thinks he’s calmed himself down somewhat. Tubbo still traces stars in little pentagram patterns on Tommy’s hand with his thumb, and though it’s starting to get a little irritating, something stops him from signalling him to knock it off. He glances briefly sideways to Tubbo, and though his expression is mostly blank, the two have gotten used to watching each other’s tics and tells, signs that are imperceptible to anyone else but them. The small twitch at the corner of his mouth, the way he scrunches his nose slightly when he blinks, even the way he presses a little too hard with his thumb, his patterns becoming less uniform and the edges of his nails leaving little scratches. He’s as scared as Tommy. So he lets him keep doing it, for both their sakes.

The Mayor finishes his history lecture, reads the list of past victors and then finally introduces the District 11 escort, a spritely-looking man in a bottle-green suit called Montaque. He’s been the district’s escort for a few years, and Tommy and Tubbo used to joke his mustache was so spiky-sharp looking you could win a Games by using it as a weapon. He seems to glide across the stage as he gives a speech about District pride or some nonsense, then utters the classic phrase, “Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour.”

He crosses the stage to the front where two glass balls sit, holding thousands of tiny slips of paper. A lump forms in Tommy’s throat. Somewhere in one of those balls there’s two slips of paper that could serve as their one way ticket to the Capitol. He knows they’re somewhat lucky: some kids their age have many more slips thanks to tesserae, but Tommy feels a pang in his chest even as he thinks about it. Some kids have parents. Some kids have somewhere to put their tesserae so it won’t immediately get stolen. He and Tubbo may have considered it, but what use would they have for grain and oil when on most days they could barely hold onto their bedsheets? It was one less thing to worry about.

Montaque the Stupid sticks one of his disproportionately-large hands into the first glass ball, and retrieves a slip of paper, and Tommy begs inside his mind, not us not us not him. He reads the name, and the entire world suddenly stops spinning. Somewhere in the back of Tommy’s mind is a lag, like when one person in a chain of people passing produce from a field to a wagon disappears. The chain does its best to keep up, but it’s very quickly overwhelmed, leaving debris in the form of dropped vegetables and a backlog that needs to be attended to.

That’s how it feels inside Tommy’s head as the crowd parts for him, a sea of people craning their necks as they shuffle aside to form a runway for him towards the stage. This can’t be happening. His mind can’t catch up to the fact, doesn’t want to catch up to the fact that this is happening. He glances to his side and immediately regrets the action, for Tubbo stands beside him looking equal parts shell shocked and distressed. Their eyes meet, teary and desperate, and Tommy only has the strength to mouth ‘Promise’, before his feet start to carry him towards the stage alone, and his hand in Tubbo’s becomes an outstretched arm. When they finally let go Tommy can feel the ghost of his friend’s hand in his own, and knows that it will be one of the last kind touches he ever receives. He tries not to think of that as he half-marches towards the veranda. He doesn’t look back for fear it’ll set him off crying, but if he were to, he would see Tubbo standing impossibly alone in such a huge crowd, holding the hand that held Tommy’s to his chest.

He mounts the stage and looks out over the people of the district he calls home, a tiny voice in his head telling him to make the most of this last time. Last time. He searches for Tubbo in the crowd, spotting him easily by the empty pathway he just walked down being slowly absorbed back into the crowd. He can see even from here the tears shining on his cheeks, the way his whole body shakes with the effort of holding more back. There’s a couple orphanage kids looking like they’re trying to console him, and, if Tommy should weigh in, doing a pretty sh’it job. He looks away to watch Montaque snatch the second slip of paper from the glass ball, and he tenses every fibre of his being shouting internally please please please. The name is read, and this time Tommy finds himself still breathing and present as some older kid makes his own shaky way to the podium. He’s about fourteen, with a stocky build that betrays work in the crop fields. As he takes his place opposite Tommy, the young boy is reminded that the Games will be full of people like him. Stronger, older opponents. Tommy, at the monumental age of twelve, doesn’t stand a chance.

The moment lingers, and then it keeps lingering, and then Tommy turns to Montaque to find out why the da’mn moment won’t move on. He’s staring out into the crowd once more, and Tommy’s heart, already too heavy, drops straight into his boots as he follows Montaque’s gaze. The crowd parts once more, and Tubbo strides forward, a shaky confidence marking his every step. The murmurs around the square hush, as he comes to stand mere metres from the tributes. Tommy wants to catch his eye, shake his head, scream at him to stop, but Tubbo doesn’t look at him. Tommy knows exactly what he intends to do as he opens his mouth; Tommy mouths the words along with him.

“I volunteer as tribute.”

Now you’ve gone and done it.

Montaque, biggest pri’ck on the planet, waxes lyrical about courage and bravery while he arranges the exchange of the fourteen year old for Tubbo. As if he’d ever know what it is to be brave. As the Mayor takes over once more, reading the Treaty of Treason as he is bound by duty to do, Tommy tries to catch the attention of his best friend, who’s acting annoyingly aloof. He watches as Tubbo stares into the distance, looking alarmingly calm with the whole ordeal. Tommy wants to scream, and do a bit more than scream and call him all the foul names he can think of and demand he un-volunteer and why? You stupid bi’tch absolute idiot why would you volunteer when we had a promise, why did you betray the promise? Why? Why why why why why?

As the Mayor wraps up the Treaty bore-fest, he motions for the two tributes to shake hands. Tributes. Now bound unrelentingly for an arena where they will kill other people. Other children. Maybe even each other.

Tommy feels some comfort in how helpless their situation is. Odds are they’ll die long before each other are a threat. They’re going to be a team obviously, and Tommy’s going to protect Tubbo as long as he can. That’s what he promised him the day they met, and that’s what he intends to do.

They shake hands, and Tubbo finally looks at him. The tears have dried on his cheeks. They take a little longer than is necessary, conducting a silent conversation between them.

‘Sorry.’

‘I am so fu’cking mad at you.’

‘You thought I would really leave you?’

‘I hoped I was wrong.’

They stand for the anthem. They are carted into the Justice Building to wait for people to come and say goodbye. No one comes. They weren’t expecting anyone anyway. They are all they have; all they’ve ever had. And where one goes, the other follows.

Tommy waits alone in the Justice Building, trying to figure out if the first thing he’ll do when he’s alone with Tubbo is hug him or strangle him. Beyond that though, he has to protect his boy. He has to keep his promise. An uneasy feeling stirs his gut. One promise has already been broken today.

And the odds aren’t playing nice.

#hell yeah i finally posted it #honestly i don't have a lot to say other than i hope you enjoyed #let's keep rereading the fluffy parts right?? anyway #i'm distraught over current events on the dsmp and this is how i'm coping #dream smp #hg au #tommyinnit #tubbo #dsmp fic #dream smp fanfic #crim writes #real proud of this one #all in one go. never written 3000 words in a day before

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