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bakugohoex · 4 years ago

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“you’re such a pretty setter”

pairings: atsumu miya x female reader, eita semi x gender neutral reader, keiji akaashi x female reader, keishin ukai x female reader, kenma kozume x female reader, koshi sugawara x female reader, tobio kageyama x female reader, toru oikawa x female reader cw: swearing, kissing, fluff word count: 4500+ a/n: this took so long, bruh i have to isolate as well which sucks but more time for school work at least, keep sending in requests summary: in which you wait for the setters after practice

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atsumu miya

Atsumu knew he had fangirls; knew he had a lengthy line of girls who would do anything to fuck him. Through them all the only person he would ever see was you. You and your bright eyes, your soft y/e/c eyes looking past the fans as you saw him.

You had walked towards the gym after studying for you and Atsumu to walk home. You loved walking home with him, the way his fingers wrapped around your own, the way he brought your knuckles to his mouth. He adored you and you adored him.

The fangirls screeching with baked goods that Atsumu wouldn’t take, you tried to barge through them, getting elbowed, why was it so hard to see your boyfriend?

Osamu had been at the door as he noticed you, “Y/n.” You smile at him as he takes your sleeve dragging you through.

“Where did all the fangirls come from?” You mutter as you follow him inside.

“It’s summer and you know what happens then.”

“What sweat and shirtless men.” He laughs at your comment as you try to find Atsumu.

“Agh Osamu, we need to do some sets before we can leave.” Kita speaks before noticing you. “Is this your girlfriend, nice to meet you.”

He gives a smile as you look at the twin, both looking at disgust at the thought of being in a relationship together. Sure, he may look like your boyfriend, but his qualities were more brother like whilst his brothers were more boyfriend type.

“Ugh...” You were interrupted as you felt arms wrap around your waist.

“What’s my princess doing surrounded by all these boys?” Atsumu’s lips brushed against your ear as you shivered at his touch.

“Osamu helped me past the fangirls.” You said as you turned to meet his eyes, his hands moving to your waist to being you closer.

“They weren’t any trouble.” You shook your head as he leans down to meet your lips.

His soft lips on your own feeling as you both move together. “Oi you two we still have some sets to do.” Atsumu huffs at his brother as he leaves you.

“Wait on the benches princess.” You nod as you walk away.

Kita looks between the twins before shaking his head, “someone’s actually dating you.”

He walks away as Atsumu scowls, he watches you sit down making sure nobody disturbed you.

He starts the set effortlessly before he hears you speak, “You’re such a pretty setter.” You had stood up cheering him as he did one of his great sets to Osamu who spiked it. He blushes at you he knew how much he loved your eyes on all of him, his body, his form even his hands. He wanted you to know that he was all yours.

eita semi

“Semi.” You hum his name out to the empty gym, he was with Ushijima and Tendo as they were practicing spikes and blocks.

You smiled at three boys as you walked onto the court, “do you boys never get sleep?” You laugh as you walk up to Semi.

“I get the daily amount needed to survive.” Ushijima spoke stoically he had the ball in his hands rotating. You raised your eyebrow at the boy as Tendo started to sing about sleep, his fingers doing little dances.

“Come on guys it’s like 9, don’t you have beds to get too.” You mutter as you lean against Semi, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“One more minute.” Semi pleads his eyes softly looking at you, “and I’ll even teach you how to set a ball.”

Ushijima gives a confused look as you look at the boy, “Fine by me.” Is all he mutters.

You drop your bag only wearing your skirt and thigh highs with your button up. Semis hands wrap around you showing you the technique of setting, how far your hands should be raised, the whole lot.

Before you knew it Ushijima passed the ball to you ready to spike, you push the ball from your hands upwards making it go towards Ushijima as he spikes it down, Tendo just missing it.

“That was amazing, you might even end up taking your boyfriends spot.” Tendo joked out as your waiting for praise from your boyfriend.

“You did amazing baby.” Semi smiles kissing the top of your head. “Give us another five minutes and then we’ll leave.”

You nod as you move to the benches watching them practice, you admired all of Semi’s features, the way his hands moved to set the ball, the way he scrunched his noise. You loved it all you loved everything about him.

“You’re such a pretty setter.” You say aloud, the boys looking at you, Semi goes red as you gawk at him. He finally walks up to you kissing you softly, his hands wrapping around your waist to bring you forward. He would never admit it but you calling him pretty made him feel some type of way.

keiji akaashi

Fukurodani’s practice game with Nekoma was closing to an end, you had stayed late in the library to revise for an upcoming exam and had sadly missed the game. Knowing Akaashi would be upset, you left a little early to catch the last part of the game. Hopefully.

You walked through the gym doors, the points at a mere 2-point lead by Fukurodani, Nekoma had been putting up a fight, you examine the game, going towards the two managers who you were friends with.

“How longs this been going on then?” You ask Yukie as she gives a look of dread.

“Too long Y/N.”

“Has Bokuto gone into emo mode?” You question as Kaori speaks this time.

“Gladly no.” You loved the frosted tip owl like a brother and a happy Bokuto meant a happy Akaashi, you watched as the game was drawing to a close, the ball being sent to Akaashi as he effortlessly set it to Bokuto who spiked it down winning the set.

You admired all of Akaashi’s features, the way his blue eyes analysed the area, brightening up once he saw you. He rand his hands through his already messy black hair, Bokuto screaming at Akaashi, “Akaashi you saw that.” He bounced about as Akaashi quickly praised him before walking up to you.

“You’re such a pretty setter.” You hum at the tall boy; he gazes down at you smiling at the comment.

“You’re my pretty girl.” He kisses your temple before quickly going back to thank Nekoma.

“I’ll wait outside for you.” He had passed you gesturing five minutes as you walked outside. The chilly air hitting your exposed thighs as your socks only went below your knees. The uniform not helping as you hadn’t worn your blazer due to the immense heat in the morning.

“What do we have here? A cold owl.” You could recognise that voice from anywhere.

You turn around to be met with the one and only Nekoma’s captain. “One day Kuroo I’d wish you weren’t an ass.”

“Ooo my bad, princess.”

You glare at the tall boy, he was mocking you, knowing already of yours and Akaashi’s relationship. “Don’t call me that you dickhead.”

“Are you pissing off my girlfriend?” Akaashi walked towards you unamused at the situation.

He handed you a hoodie as you quickly wore it, not wanting to freeze your tits off.

“Me never.” Kuroo laughs as you roll your eyes.

“Come on Y/n, pain in the ass Kuroo san must be getting tired from all the loosing he did today.” You smirk at the uncharacteristic comment of Akaashi but nevertheless take his hand.

“You’re so cute.” You sing out as he grabs you closer to his body, putting a hand to your jaw as he kisses you softly, his calm demeanour making you melt underneath his touch.

“You’re cuter Y/n.” You blush as you remain in each other’s arms.

“AWWW MY FAVOURITE COUPLE.” Bokuto screams as he runs next to you.

“Bokuto san.” Both you and Akaashi scold in unison at his shouting. He gives a signature smirk as he beings to praise both his and Akaashi’s skills. You listen intently as you stare up at Akaashi his warm eyes filling you with love and comfort.

keishin ukai

Keishin and you had dinner plans and knowing him you knew he would not be ready or ever arrive early to get ready. Being the best girlfriend ever you went to go collect him, you had already closed the shop up for the night, occasionally helping out when you had free time mostly to spend time with Keishin though.

You had always wanted to meet the kids he coached but he had always been a wary because he knew the kids and knew exactly how they acted in front of pretty women. Especially Nishinoya and Tanaka.

You walked up the steps leading to the volleyball gym, well that’s what you assumed it was. Knocking on the door as you saw the team taking a break, a man comes up to you with black hair and glasses as you smile at him.

“Hi, how can I help you?” He speaks cheerily before you recognise him as the man who had tormented Keishin for a couple of months back at the shop.

“Who’s she?” You hear one of them mutter, you were dressed up to be a teacher and you couldn’t have come for any of them. Even with the blue dress that clinged to you, you looked gorgeous and the whole boys team knew it.

“Oh, hi, I’m Y/n I looking for Keishin.” He gives a confused look inviting you in from the freezing air.

“You know our coach.” A loud orange hair boy jumps up in front of you as you look between both males and the rest of the team. This had shocked the team how did their coach know you.

You nod speaking, “Yeah he’s my boyfriend.” Deadpanned as the team goes silent, Takeda goes red at the fact that Keishin had mentioned you but never introduced you to them all.

Two boys instantly jolted in front of you as you jumped back, one with a buzz cut and another with a brown strip of her between his black hair. “Tanaka, Noya don’t frighten the woman.” A guy with grey hair spoke calmly to the boys.

“I have hope, if coach was able to get her than there is hope for us all.” Noya screams at the team as you fiddle with your clutch that kept your phone. You regretted not calling before you had arrived.

“Hope for what?” Keishin had come through the doors carrying his car keys. “Y/n what are you doing here?” He looked even more confused before seeing the dress and how amazing you looked

“You forget didn’t you.” You walk towards him as you mutter at looking up at him.

“Dinner, fuck, let me wrap practice up, I need to…” You bring your finger to his lips.

“I know you need to get changed we have an hour before the reservation.” You spoke confidently, the team gawking at how you shut their couch up so easily.

“Guess you better meet the team before we leave.” You laugh as he grabs your hand making you stand in front of the boys. “Introduce yourselves make it quick.”

One by one they all introduce themselves even stating their position as you remembered what Keishin had taught you about volleyball. “Wow you’re both setters, I love setters.” You smile at both Kageyama and Sugawara as you turn back at Keishin.

“You’re such a pretty setter.” You coo to your boyfriend teasingly.

The team laughs at Keishins bright red face, “Yeah, yeah.” He mutters grabbing your waist feeling your skin through the thin dress material. “I’m gonna wrap practice up early, you are all free to stay longer, but I’ll make practice a lot longer tomorrow.” The boys groan at the lack of energy knowing that they did love Volleyball enough to spend all hours of the day doing it.

“Before you leave, how did you get her?” Nishinoya said with no filter.

“The imbecil actually asked that.” The tall blonde Tsukishima snickered as you laughed.

You turned to face the dyed blonde man, “He begged.” He goes wide eyed as he pokes your side.

“You really be telling people that’s how I got you.” He pulls at his hair taking the headband out of his hair as you smirk.

“He begged on his knees.” You rephrase as the boys laugh at how embarrassed their coach was getting.

“Okay this practice is done now.” He grabs your hand as he pulls you outside, “Princess I distinctly remember you were the only one of your knees.”

You slap him playfully as you look at him, “you perve.” You give a quick kiss as you retract he grabs your throat making you stay close to his mouth as he continues the kiss. His rough hands on your body.

He retracts the mere inches between both your mouths still visible, “as soon as I saw you in that dress, how could I ever resist you?” You chuckle your head going back as his hand was still wrapped around your neck, his thumb brushing against your lips. “A quickie in my car.”

“You pervert.” You could almost feel his smirk as he laughed at your reaction. He adored everything about you as you go back for another kiss. He loved you and you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t love him back.

kenma kozume

You had been showing the new kid around making sure he knew where his classes were, you were going to show him the volleyball club so you could end the day meeting Kenma. He seemed nice enough but had already asked for number which you rejected as soon as you realised what he wanted.

“Finally, this is the gym, the Volleyball boys team are practicing, and I have to meet my boyfriend but if you have any questions.

“Isn’t volleyball for girls.” You gave a sign as you looked at him.

“Some of my friends are the best volleyball players in Tokyo, so no its not just a girls sport.” He gave a look as he peeked through the doors.

“There’s a girl right there though.” You grew confused as Nekoma had no manager and people wouldn’t stay long enough. He had been pointing to Kenma, you scowled at his ideocracy.

“He’s not a girl, he is the setter and he’s fucking amazing at it.” You shout urning the glances from the team as they heard you shouting. “If you started thinking with your upstairs brain maybe you’d realise that people don’t have to conventionally look like boys to be boys, they are whatever they want to identify as.”

He was scared and you had started to get pissed, the team walked up to you as Kuroo looked at you, “he giving you a problem Y/n.”

“I handled it Kuroo.”

“This the boyfriend.” The new kid asked as your blood boiled.

Kuroo was confused, he grabbed Kenma by the hood as he made him stand in front of you. “Kitten is everything okay?” All the anger that filled you had disappeared as soon as you saw him, your love, your everything.

“This is your boyfriend.” Your face grew angry again.

“Cover me.” Is all you said to Kuroo and the rest of the team, Kenma knew what was about to happen as he stopped the game he was playing to watch. “You want to say that again.”

Before you let him speak, your fist went to his face, pushing him back even if you didn’t condone violence, it was sometimes necessary. Kenma smiled as he saw his girl fighting for him. “That’s enough kitten.” He spoke softly as you stopped beating the crap out of the boy.

You don’t say anything as you leave, he wasn’t injured just a few scratches, Kenma grabbed your hand holding it, even if you were shorter than him you would always fight for him. He brought your bruised knuckles to his mouth. Kissing it better as if all the love and care he had was going to heal your wounds. You giggle at his touch as you watch the rest of the game feeling his eyes fixated on the ball.

Before you knew it the practice had finished and you and Kenma held hands walking to the train, the new kid disappearing. He smiled listening inattentively at your day. “You know.” You pause speaking as you notice him watching, “you’re such a pretty setter.”

He hides his face with his hair not wanting to feel embarrassed you knew he loved it as he squeezed your hand softly, you smiled leaning your head against his shoulder, feeling everything, you needed in him.

koshi sugawara

You hadn’t intended to come watch the practice, but Suga had insisted you come so he could walk home with you. You adored him and even though you knew the basics of Volleyball it was still a confusing game.

You ended up coming right on time with Kageyama swapped out with Suga. He noticed you as he gave a bright smile, you smiled back going to Kiyoko and Yachi as they greeted you with cheery HI’s.

The game started again, Suga serving as he started getting passed the ball, you understood the terminology and what was going on, it was when they would do their insane moves that were unexplainable. He set the ball effortlessly as Asahi spiked it right past the blockers.

You cheered always being Suga’s biggest fan, as they continued on with the game you watched smiling at the love you had for him. The devotion you had to this boy who brought happiness to your life. You knew he would bring about comfort in a room and right now all you could feel was admiration at his perfect sets, his perfect passes, his perfect serves. He was perfect to you and he deserved the world.

They had started doing something you didn’t know much about, Noya coming from the frontline as he jumped up setting as well. Suga had told you about this attack, a synchronised attack that would only work if everybody was perfect. You didn’t really read up on it as much as you did other attacks but seeing it in action as Suga spiked the ball passing the blockers you realised just how much satisfaction it brought your boyfriend.

“Suga that was amazing.” You shout as he smiles, the practice game having been won as he scored the last point.

He walked up to you, opening your arms for a big hug. You loved his hugs he always smelt of fresh towels and vanilla a combination expected from the grey-haired boy. “You’re such a pretty setter.”

He smirks as he remains around you, his arms encasing you as he was so in love with you. You were his everything and he wanted to show you the world.

“Can you two stop making us want to puke?” Daichi laughs out as you stick your tongue out at him.

You turn back to Suga his eyes remaining glued to you, “just because nobody loves you Daichi.” Suga spoke still fixated on you, “I love you.” He whispers as you reply back the same love and adoration for him. He kisses you quickly before coach shouted at him.

Even with the smallest quickest kiss it still brought happiness to you as you felt your heart beat through your uniform, your body missing his touch, even your thighs encased in tights had hairs risen just at the pining of love you had for this boy. He was going to ruin you and you were going to gladly let him.

tobio kageyama

Kageyama had been none stop practicing for the past week, even with nationals months away he was still concentrated on improving. You loved that about him, loved his dedication but his lack of knowing when to take breaks is what worried you the most.

You walked through the double doors, it was another late night of studying for you and playing volleyball for Kageyama, your lack of communication annoying you. You saw as he set the ball perfectly, Hinata spiking it to where the water bottles were. You smiled as you continued to watch not drawing any attention to yourself, he kept setting perfectly for the orange haired boy.

As soon as the last ball had been set, he looked at the door seeing your cold frame watching intently. You smiled giving a small wave as he gestured for you.

“Hey Y/n, what are you doing here?” You play with your fingers being shorter than the boy making you have to look up to him.

“I thought we could walk home.” He knew you both hadn’t spent that much time together since the team had won Nationals.

He hesitated a response, but you spoke before he could, “you’re such a pretty setter.” You were embarrassed at what you said his face going a bright red.

“Kageyama you look like a rotten tomato” Hinata said as he walked past, you giggle at the comment as he looks at you again, the reddening calming down.

“We should walk home together; I’ll go grab my stuff.” You smile as he starts to walk off before pausing in his tracks, “thank you Y/n.” He was never this outwardly affectionate but in the enclose where only you could hear you felt love.

“It’s all true you’re a…” He interrupts you quickly.

“No, thank you for that but also thank you for staying by my side, I love Volleyball and I love you, I’m not very good as balance, but you realise how important Volleyball is to me, so thank you for always being there.” You smile looking down.

“I’ll always be there for you.” He smiles as he leaves to grab his stuff.

He arrives as quick as he left, the small action of skimming his fingertips beside your own, made you grab his hand, he looked down smiling as you leaned in closer to hid frame. He let your other arm go around his arm, bringing warmth to you.

“You know, every time I set, I set for you.” He smirks as you have love in your eyes.

“R…really.” You choke out.

He stops you, putting his hands to your face, “yeah and I really do love you Y/n”

“I love you too Tobio.” You close the gap, his hands guiding the kiss as in the privateness of the empty street allowing Tobio to express himself in which words could never do. You had to hand it to the boy, he would always be better at physically showing his love than emotionally. But even then it made you love him even more, it made Tobio Kageyama, Tobio Kageyama.

toru oikawa

Oikawa had fans, a lot of fans. You hated to admit you were jealous of how they’d come up to him after games, how they’d touch his arm. It was always a race to get to him first and even him always ignoring them as soon as you came. You still hated them.

You knew how much Oikawa had been practicing lately so you made him some milk bread and would wait for him to finish practice so you both could walk home. You walked towards the double doors, his fans crowding around as they watched intently.

You sign as you push past them, hearing scowls, someone even elbowing you as you glared at the girl, just as you reached the entrance about to walk in. Someone on the team came running up to you, he looked new and have the ugliest hair ever.

“Sorry you can’t come in when practice is on, are you one of Oikawa’s fans?” You were about to answer him as he saw the food in your hands. “Fucking hell you fangirls are obsessed with him, y’know he won’t eat it.”

You raised an eyebrow at the first year, “Yeah well I’m not a fan so move it.”

You try to barge past him, but his arm was out, he glared as you glared back. Almost a competition of seeing who would retain eye contact. “Then what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see my boyfriend.” He raised an eyebrow as he chuckled.

“You must be crazy if you think Oikawa’s your boyfriend.” You grew even more frustrated at the new kid.

“I’m going to kill you if you don’t move.” He remained standing in front of you.

The commotion that had been occurring had made Iwaizumi come over, “Leave Y/n alone Kindaichi.” You finally found out his name.

“But…”

“Thank you Iwa-chan.”

“Who the fuck is Y/n.” Kindaichi mutters as you continue to glare at the boy.

You walked towards Oikawa who was sitting on the bench, his knee was getting better, but he needed some breaks occasionally. “You okay, baby.”

He broke out from his trance as a soft smile appeared on his lips, “What are you doing here princess.”

He gestured for you to come closer to him, you complied as he brought his arms around your waist, hugging you, his head resting on your stomach. “I brought you some milk bread, you didn’t eat enough this morning.”

He smiles as he takes the bread, he puts it to the side before hugging you again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He lets go looking up at you, “now go show me those amazing sets of yours.”

He nods standing up becoming a lot taller than you now, grabbing a slice of bread he stuffs it in his mouth as he goes into a game. “Shittykawa don’t stuff your face.” Iwaizumi shouts as Oikawa looks at him hurt.

“My baby made me bread.” He coos as you laugh sitting on the bench.

The game occurred, Oikawa setting perfectly as Iwaizumi spiked it past the blockers especially the annoying turnip head. You watched Oikawa intensively occasionally glaring at Kindaichi as he glared back. The game ended quickly as Oikawa’s serves allowed for many points to arise.

He came up to you, smiling happily waiting for some praise, “you’re such a pretty setter.” He grabbed your waist pulling you towards him as he hugged you tightly.

“You’re too nice to me.” You laugh as your hands played with his hair, it brought comfort to the tall boy. He gave a genuine smile as he looked down at you.

He brought his face closer to yours as he kissed you softly, his mouth gaining momentum as it became heated. His hands bringing you closer to his waist as you could feel his skin on your own. Before it could go anywhere further, you felt Oikawa’s head push against you, he let go off you his hand to his head as you saw the stray volleyball roll away.

“Iwa-chan don’t be so mean.”

“Lazykawa we still have practice, stop eating Y/n’s face off.” He huffed at the boy, you watched as Oikawa left to go pout to Iwaizumi for being mean. The tall boy would be the death of you, but even then you still loved him.

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diedbutterflies69 · 3 years ago

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Leaving Pluto -

Lee Know smut imagine.

Contains: soft dom!lee know, praise mixed with teasing, slight choking. Arguing slightly. Fingering, oral $ex

Minors don't interact.

Working past the work hours cause he didn't have you waiting for him to come home.

It was another exhausting night for Minho. Being away from you was killing him slowly. A small fight that happened four days ago was the reason for you to not contact him. You wanted to find a new workplace, cause you were too tired of your co workers talking behind your back how cheap of a woman you were just because you were dating a male with slight higher position than you. According to Minho you should have ignored thier words or come with most savage comeback possible or simply talk sweetly and be friends with them. But you being you picked up the option which he never expected. Your resignation letter.

For Minho you were a deadly drug, Without you he can't live. He was addicted to feeling of being loved.

Being bad with words he never really poured out his heart to you. He fell for you when he was at his peak of self-hatred, he still can't understand how you were able to see behind the proud man who earned his position all by himself was a hiding his depressed emo kid who just wished to feel something.

Minho can't lose you. He exactly knew where you were. But he didn't have the guts to face you, he was scared because his words were no less than knifes. He was tired of himself being always a jerk to you and you forgiving him everytime because

Minho was your everything too.

You both weren't in a toxic relationship just were different.

He believed in facing problem and you believed in running away from it .

Shutting down the laptop he picked his coat and stuff. Minho made his mind, he can't just sit ideal and expect you to come back to him . Your apartment wasn't miles away from him but here he was still hesitating to start the car and and Stay with you.

Finally gathering all his shattered courage and starting the engine Minho finally headed to his world.

Standing infront of your apartment and again trying to find his lost courage Minho finally rung the door bell and it didn't even took 10 secs before the door opened.

"What you want", you Asked him. Your voice colder than ice. You expected Minho to come begging at your door anyways as you understand what kind of devil was residing in his mind, but now you were tired , tired of how Minho only knew how to regret over the mess he created himself. Looking in his eyes, your whole tough demonor almost shaken. You hated to see Minho in that state.

"umm, can I come in, please Y/N?"

He gave you a small smile and your heart melted, no one knows how much you adored that man he always just pretend to have a tough front, and right now it was crumbling again.

Sighing heavily you let him in.

"come in" you said.

"Y/N, Listen to me please, I overreacted it was my fault I -I apologize I was hitted hard by fact that I would be unable to see you everyday in that suffocating place, I--I am really sorry and please I wasn't trying to control you, I was being selfish I--I-I--"

" will you stop now?" You asked him cutting him off, whatever anger you had disappeared the moment he expressed his heart truly but you just wanted to know one thing.

"Do you love me Minho?", You asked him you didn't understand what exact feelings he had for you, was it love, or desire to be love, or just a simple fuck. Minho's face full of confusion, you caught him off-guard. But he answered confidently no ounce of hesitation in his voice.

"I love you, I love you so much" His voice so sincere like he was practicing his wedding vows.

"Then fucking act like a normal guy in love for atleast 1 second, who the hell takes almost whole week to apologize?? Is your ego more powerful than your love, dating in office place was so damn hard for me those annoying rats comments were giving me headache and I live with you, do you forgot that??? Fucking stupid crazy ?"

You ranted , felt like the weight from your shoulders finally lifted you just wanted his genuine emotions, living peacefully without arguing like cats and dogs.

Minho was hanging his head low in guilt knowing how much damaged he has caused , that you started to doubt his love.

"I love you so much sorry please forgive me , I will try to get better", Minho said he always meant what he said. looking straight into eyes he come closer to you.

"You should have come sooner, I missed your stupid ass", you said speaking from your heart. The 5 days argument finally fucking itself.

Minho smiled at you and said," I was too afraid of lover, you know she is a whole different person when angry." Pouting like a kid, he was too irresistible for you and you were deprived from his touch,his kisses and whole him.

"You talk to much", You said and locked your lips with Minho for a desperate deep kiss, which he happily reciprocated back with equal desperation and love.

" you are the hottest girl I have ever seen" he said and pecked your lips lifting you up in his arms and going straight to your bedroom. Both of you looking at each other with so much respect love and affection. Reaching your bedroom Minho slowly put you down smiling at you and whispering "let me show you how much love I have for you", whimpering desperately at his words that sended shivers down your spine no matter how many times he had fucked you , you can't get used to his dominant persona.

Minho's hand wondering inside your hoodie and cupping your breasts as you didn't wore any bra his fingers softly pinching your buds not in a rough way. Tonight he decided to go as gentle as possible.

"Stop teasing, Minho", you moaned desperately , tugging on Minho's shirt and attempting to free his god sculpted body. One thing Minho loved the most about you , you not being shy and addressing whatsoever you felt. Minho smiled playfully at you and saying out " patience darling, I am gonna make you feel good" This man is gonna be death of me you thought .

Minho removed your hoodie and freed your upper body, cold air immediately making your buds hard again, his hand resting on your waist and one to support himself at top of you , he started kissing your neck And leaving a very small hickey as you didn't liked him marking you at visible places, you were too lazy to conceal it. Going down and cupping your right breast so tenderly your breath getting heavier at Minho's slow yet sensual ministrations, he was different from usual, definitely more soft.

But him being slow was torture to your core.

"Please", you whimpered bucking up your hips to Minho's body in response he grabbed your thighs his hands, caressing your inner thighs dangerously close to your heat, you were already wet from all the foreplay , your pussy begging to get destroyed by your lover.

Minho removed your shorts , now your slight wet panties being the only cloth on your body on the other hand Minho being Fully dressed his black shit wrinkled from your tight grip which he unbuttoned hastily after freeing your body from those useless panties throwing somewhere in room.

"because of who your pussy is soo wet , love?" He said looking straight in your eyes his fingers resting at your entrance, waiting for your answer before doing anything else. A fucking teaser.

"Because of you Min, do something please", your voice coming out much softer and desperate than you thought.

Finally giving you a big smile, Minho entered his fingers in your mouth covered in your saliva then without warning he shoved his two fingers in your hole and moving them at a extremely slow pace his touch was so powerful today even if it was different he never was a slow going man but you weren't complaining.

Minho went down to your thigh level, eyes looking straight at your pussy , without removing his fingers , he attacked your pussy with his mouth, sucking the entrance and tongue going straight inside you, fingers and the soft muscle making it difficult for you to not moan and just keep screaming his name till your lungs burn.

His nose brushing to your your clit , and fingers finally picking up pace , you can literally feel Minho's smirk whenever you called his name.

"I. ... I am close", you said followed by a high pitched moan, hearing you Minho's own cock almost bursting , he added a third finger and started sucking you more aggressively.

"I am cumin..." You felt your body on cloud nine, your high washing over you, juices flowing from you and Minho not letting them fall, till the last drop he kept eating you out and fingering, you almost crying from overstimulation.

"How was it babe? Felt good?", Minho asked you even knowing the answer that he literally made you see the stars alone with his fingers and tongue, detaching himself from your lower body and again looking at you , You got up ready to give him something in return, he loved your mouth and loved how you gagged whenever his tip touched back of your throat, your hands reached his belt but he stopped you .

"This, ain't about me babe", Minho said, resulting in you looking at him in pure frustration, giving you a sly smile as he lied you back down on bed he continued. " I mean suck me some other day, now I just wanna come inside your small pussy"

Minho have a great way of making you lose your mind completely.

He unbuckled his belt and removing his belt so slowly like he was giving you a whole strip show. After finally freeing his member from all the restrictions Minho's mouth again finding your lips as he slowly entered inside you .

"Fuck, why you always feel so good", Minho grunted heavily and started moving at a slow pace, his hand cupping your breasts and lips hungrily kissing you."you are so fucking beautiful love",He said , his voice containing pure sincerity and sensuality. The way he was rolling his hips was driving you insane, even the kiss was so sensual, his tongue inside exploring your mouth . Minho's body so close to you ,your slight bloated stomach occassionally coming in contact with his sculpted abs, he always made you feel beautiful , sexy even when days he was rough his degradation never made you felt insecure and today he was being so gentle, so soft and his praises making your throbbing heart melt. You love Minho and Minho loves you.

"Minho, please you.. you feel so damn.. good", you said in between your deep breaths and screams. Minho's lips now giving you hickeys and you didn't really wanted to stop him, his mouth felt so damn good. His pace being the same slow torture to you.

"I feel good too babe, inside you", Minho said his grunts getting more louder signalling he was close too. His hand now intervining with yours in a tight grip as if he you were his last straw to sanity.

"can I come, please?", You asked as of an habit , Minho was a hella kinky man and he had taught you so many things inside bedroom and asking for his permission before Cumming was one. He nodded at your request, something which happened once in a blue moon you were glad as wasn't edging you. His thrusts getting faster as he chased down his own high.

Leaving many screams and moans, you cummed around his cock feeling like being top of the world. " You are mine", he said before kissing your forehead and those intervened hand before empting himself inside you.

"I am yours, always yours", you replied to Minho, his forehead resting against yours both giving each other a faint and tired smile.

He scorched beside you and engulfed you in a tight hug , caressing your sweaty forehead and removing the hair that were sticking to it because of the passionate activities you both just did.

Comfortable Silence spreading inside your room. Before Minho finally spoke again.

"I am sorry, you gonna come back to our house right?" Minho apologizing again and being oblivion to the fact that you had even forget the argument. You also loved the way he referred his house to 'ours'. Those small things which he do without any intentions meant so much to you.

"Stop saying sorry It wasn't only yours alone fault too, I too overeacted, sorry" you said to him and snuggling inside his neck . He quickly reacted to the last word. Minho hated the way you thought it was your fault.

"No babe, I am sorry, don't apologize", Minho again saying sorry, Guess it was endless loop of taking the blame. You ignored his words having no energy to argue .

"well, so are we gonna have a bath, We need to go back to our home in morning", you said Minho and him being too aware of hidden meaning of your words.

"Okay babe , let's do 69 there"

Thanks for reading .

Beautiful reader.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids #skz #lee minho #minho #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know #lee know smut

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pan-fangirl-345 · 4 years ago

Text

Where’s the Manager?

Summary: You visit your boyfriend, but, as always, your captain is content to have the worst timing.

TW: Slight swearing (Kyouken and Iwa-chan have potty mouths)

A/N: There weren’t enough Kyoutani x Reader fics out there so I wrote my own.

As soon as you walked into Seijoh's gym, all eyes were on you.

"Oikawa, I think there's a fan here for you," a spiky haired man shouted, making a guy with a knee brace turn.

"My fans don't usually come to nightly practices," the man, Oikawa, said.

"Because you always stay so late, Shittykawa!"

"Who's Oikawa?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm here to see my boyfriend."

"And who might that be?" Oikawa asked, looking slightly offended. He must've been the guy with the fan club your boyfriend had told you about.

"(Y/F/N)? What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow!" Kyoutani said, rushing over to hug you, spinning you around a few times.

"Ken," you laughed. "Put me down!"

He set you down lightly, giving you a big smile.

"That's the school uniform for Fukurodani, isn't it?" someone else asked.

"My school cancelled classes today due to the fact that it's raining so hard you can't see an inch in front of you. I figured I'd come surprise you," you muttered, smiling back at him.

"How did you know we were ending practice?" Kyoutani asked.

"You told me silly," you teased. "Yesterday. I asked you when you got off practice."

"Woah, woah, woah. Let's recap for everyone whose brain just liquified and melted out of their noses," Oikawa muttered, making you wrinkle your nose at the description. "Our resident Mad Dog-chan, not only has a girlfriend, but he has a cute girlfriend from a different school."

"Not to mention she's hot," a pink-haired guy added.

"And goes to a pretty prestigious school," the other third year chimed in.

You flushed a little, but rolled your eyes.

"Ken, you didn't tell them about me?" you asked, pouting a little bit, then giving a small laugh. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Didn't think they needed to know," he grumbled. "I already have to share you with my sister."

You snorted, putting your hand over your mouth, smiling at him.

"You're cute when you're jealous," you teased, bopping him on the nose lightly. "I'm (Y/N), I'm Kyoutani's girlfriend. And for whoever asked, yes, this is the uniform for Fukurodani."

"How old are you?" someone asked.

He looked like a creampuff.

"I'm a second year, just like you Yahaba," you told him.

"You know who I am?" He looked surprised.

"Well, yeah. You slammed my boyfriend into a wall and shouted at him," you told him, deadpan. "I wanted to know who you were. And I already know about Iwaizumi-san because Ken talks about him all the time. And he complains about the fluffy haired dude, who I am assuming is Oikawa."

Iwaizumi laughed as Oikawa pouted, and you glanced at Kyoutani, who was too busy smiling at you to really notice.

Your phone ringing caught your attention and you dug through your bag looking for it.

"Ugh, it's Bokuto-san, give me a moment, would you?" you asked your boyfriend, scooting away so the others could bombard him with questions.

"(Y/L/N)! Why aren't you at practice?" he shouted and you winced, pulling the phone away from your ear.

"Why are you guys even having practice? It's practically a hurricane there! And I'm visiting my boyfriend, I told Akaashi that when I left," you told him. "Didn't he tell you?"

"Boyfriend!" he shouted. "That punk looking blond?"

"His name's Kyoutani, but yes, that's him."

"Your our manager (Y/L/N)! Your fattenizing with the enemy!" Bokuto whined.

"I think the word your looking for is ‘fraternizing’ Bokuto-san," you corrected. "And he's not the enemy. Do you realize how little we go against teams like Seijoh? They always tend to be in a different bracket," you pointed out.

"That's not the point!" he said, and you could practically see his hair deflating on the other end of the line. He was going to go into emo mode if you didn't do something.

"I promise to help you with your line shots when I get back. I'll stay after with Akaashi the next practice we have, alright? Please don't be sad Bokuto-san," you said, feeling slightly bad that you hadn't told him.

"All the guys miss you though!" Bokuto whined. He was definitely pouting. And he was definitely trying to trick you.

"And I miss you guys too, but I see you all everyday, I barely get to see my boyfriend. How would you feel if you only got to see Akaashi every few weeks?"

"That's not fair!" Bokuto shouted again.

"Put him on speaker!" Kyoutani mouthed and you rolled your eyes, but put him on speaker anyway.

"What if he tries to steal you away?" Bokuto asked, sounding extra whiny, the way he did when this sort of thing came up.

Which it did.

Often.

"I'm stealing her for a weekend Owl-san, you and your team will have her back on Monday," Kyoutani said, draping himself across your back, wrapping his arms around you waist so he could talk to your boyfriend.

"I feel like a glorified, underpaid babysitter," you muttered.

"You and me both," Akaashi said. "I apologize for this (Y/L/N), I told him where you were and he got all . . . deflated."

"It's alright," you assured him. "I'll just give Bokuto a heads up next time."

"Next time!?" Bokuto yelled from the background, making you stifle a laugh.

"Yes, next time Bokuto-san, did you think I was breaking up with Kyou this weekend?"

"You should! He's trying to steal you from us!"

"You say that every time a member of a different team talks to me! You did it with Kuroo-san, and Kenma, and Suga-san, and don't even get me started on the other Tokyo teams," you reminded him, watching your boyfriend's team laughed at your captain's antics. "You thought Hinata-kun was trying to smuggle me back to Karasuno when he was just walking me to our bus!"

"You're a good manager (Y/L/N)!" Bokuto retorted. "They want you all to themselves!"

"While I'm flattered that you think so Bokuto-san, the only people that even act somewhat like that are Tanaka and Nishinoya! And even then, Akaashi is usually right by me, or I'm with the other managers."

"But-"

"Look, Bokuto-san, I have to go," you interjected. "I can't spend all weekend arguing with you on this. I'll text you when I get home so you know where I am. I promise, I'll be back practice on Monday. I think you can handle a weekend without me."

You ended the call before he could respond, silencing your phone and slipping it back into your bag.

"How is he one of the top five aces in the country?" Kyoutani asked when you sighed. "He acts like an overgrown child.

"I have no fucking clue," you muttered, laying your head against his chest. "I love Bokuto-san, he's like an older brother to me, but sometimes I wish he had a little more fucking tact."

"That's the captain of Fukurodani?" Oikawa asked.

"Yeah."

"Is he always like that?" Iwaizumi inquired.

"Pretty much," you sighed. "He gets a little different during games, but he pretty acts like that all the time unless he's alone with Akaashi, our setter. Who also happens Bokuto's designated babysitter whenever we go to tournaments or practice games. And training camps, but Tsukishima from Karasuno and Kuroo from Nekoma tend to have him on a leash too."

"The salty glasses kid, and the cat with the fucked up hairdo?" Kyoutani asked.

"Yep, that's them. Hinata, the red-head spiker from Karasuno, tends to keep Bokuto busy when we have training camps with them because Bokuto is too busy trying to 'mentor' him. They make my job so much easier."

"You know a lot of people from other teams," Oikawa pointed out, squinting at you.

"As a manager, I run into a lot of different people. I'm friends with a lot of Nekoma, Karasuno, the other Tokyo teams, not to mention Shiritorizawa and Date Tech. And I know a few people from your team now. I tend to liaison between different teams to help set up practice matches and just to check up on them. It helps out our coach and advisor, plus, I get to meet a bunch of new people."

"That's actually kind of how we met," Kyoutani admitted. "She was the manager for my middle school team."

"I lived near here until the start of my first year. I would've gone here, but my mother got a job transfer to Tokyo, so I moved. Kyoutani and I knew each other from middle school and we helped each other out a few times."

"I never would've guessed that Kyoutani would have a girlfriend like you," Iwaizumi said.

"Why not?"

"Have you seen him?" Oikawa asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Have you guys ever seen him with his sister, or his dogs?" you countered.

"No," they admitted. "He's a pretty private person."

"Kyou's a good person, but people don't get to know him before they decide he's a bad person and it's best to steer clear. Not to mention that most idiots believe the rumors that fly around. I can tell you that he's only ever been in one fight, and it was to protect me."

"I still have the scar," he mumbled.

"That's because you attacked a guy who had a knife!"

"I didn't know he had it when I tackled the son of bitch!" he retorted.

"I could've handled him. I take self-defense classes for a reason dipshit."

Kyoutani shrugged.

"Dumbass," you teased.

"Idiot," he replied, kissing the top of your head.

You rolled your eyes but smiled.

"I can't tell if you two are disgustingly sweet or slightly concerning," Makki muttered.

"Both," you answered.

"My sister is wondering where I am," Kyoutani said, pulling his phone out of his bag.

"Then let's go, I want to give her a big hug! I've missed her."

"And I've missed you," he told you, making you smile.

"Of course you did! I'm your girlfriend."

"I'll see you guys on Tuesday," Kyoutani called.

"It was nice to meet you guys!" you shouted as you raced Kyoutani to the doors.

"We didn't even introduce ourselves," Watari muttered.

"She probably knew anyway, Mad Dog-chan loves us," Oikawa said, gathering up his own things.

"I think he loves her more though," Yahaba pointed out.

"Definitely."

#kyoutani x reader #kyoutani #kyoutani fluff #kyoutani is a simp #fluff #haikyuu x reader

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hopeless-ro-simptic · 4 years ago

Text

Familiar Cerulean Eyes- Pt 19

Click Here for a full list of other parts! Part 20

Warnings: Angsty Shiggy, this gets a little fluffy. Next chapter is worse.

Word Count: Just under 2k

I would like to say thank you so much to those of you who have been patiently waiting on me to update this story. I got really stuck on this chapter and wasn’t sure how I wanted to get from point A to point B but after for freaking ever it’s finally done. We are having a little bit of calm before the storm and I think this is a really cute idea. Getting to the end guys, things are going to be going down in just a few more chapters. Thank you so much for all the support on this!

TAGLIST: @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaf @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac @littlelovebug98 @plutoneu @giftofwonder @kitty-kat-ash @fukyouthink @anarchys-bnha-mess @threbony @orenjineki @toobsessedsstuff @bamf-barnes @x-a-delama-x @inanabsentia @reallyshey @godsblesstheboi @drownedbytears @emilymikado @fluidfandoms @mikasackrmann @bohica160 @andrastesbeard @percabethismyotp14 @celestiallustre @moon-spirit-yue @hecatve @bakugoshrimp @vanillanjin @toshiuwuu @rxinbowrena @therealwalmartjesus @callmepopcorn @xxdumb-bitchxx @medicinalkiwis @kat-unzel @headfirst-halo @capricorn-nightmare @annie-daetris @skumtrash @totorotoni @kst-chernish @itsmysticalmystery @the-occasional-artist1125 @beautifulparisiangirl @stanzastic @helena-way07 @aurorahoneybuns @cth-l @nightlygiggless @filledasaf @hailstorm888 @ozzy-bozzy @girrawr13 @hawkssnugget @dabilittleslut @over-grown-emo-kid @sasageyowrites @littledustyflame @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that @thefirewasfriendly @babayaga67 @kiegosbby @foxes-and-arrows

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“Sir we have eyes on the target.”

“How many times do I have to tell you coffee is not a target. It’s a beverage. You’re not funny.”

“N-No sir, I mean… S-shigaraki. I have eyes on Shigaraki.” The sidekick tried to whisper so not to alarm the surrounding civilians. They didn’t want to incite a panic.

“What?! Where?!” The hero screamed into the cellphone making the side kick wince and pull it from their ear, gaining a few glances.

“Electronics store, south side.” The side kick rattled off the address, there eyes glued to black hoodied figure, fear freezing them in place as they watched from the café across the street. What are the odds of locating the number 1 villain in Japan while just picking up the team’s morning coffee? The hero continued to rant and ask questions into the cellphone but the sidekick’s brain was numb, watching as the blue haired villain just, casually, wandered over to the electronic stores counter, setting down what looked like some controllers and cords for the new console that was out, and just…. Paid?

What the fuck.

“…Do you hear me? Do not engage, but do not lose him. We need to know where he goes.” The side kick zoned back in on the instructions that the hero was giving. Mentally kicking themselves. They were a professional. They needed to be calm.

“Yes sir. I will track the target…. What should I do about the coffee?”

“Are you kidding me? Screw the coffee!”

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

You watched as Shigaraki walked into the bar, barely giving you an annoyed glare when you took a cautious sniff as he entered the room. He smelled just faintly of honey… and something else… but you left it alone, not wanting to incur the alpha’s wrath again after last time. Still, your brain questioned as to if that soft lingering scent was of an omega… and if so was it just a random one.. or the one that he had been hiding away from everyone else?

“Did Tomura just walk in? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him walk anywhere. I thought he was an invalid since Kurogiri is always just teleporting him wherever he wants to go.” Dabi’s voice made your lips raise in a smile, leaning back against him as he came up behind where you were sitting at the bar, a bowl of ramen in front of you, feeling yourself warm up as he slipped his arms around your waist leaning down and kissing the top of your head.

“He insisted I stay here in case of a raid. A split second could mean the difference between us all getting caught or getting away. We don’t have One for All to save us this time.” Kurogiri shut down the conversation with a pointed look. Clearly, he knew better than to gossip about the alpha behind his back. Or he was trying to keep something a secret.

It didn’t matter anyways, the conversation long forgotten as Toga burst into the room with Twice in tow, an excited look on her face. Her usually soft beta scent sharper and bubbling out around her.

“Twice had the best idea!”

“I really didn’t. I always have good ideas.” The two of them came to a stop in the middle of the room, Spinner looking up from his game that he was playing on the couch in the corner seeming almost interested in what the two had to say. Toga was practically bouncing in place as she looked from Twice to everyone else and back to Twice.

“Well tell them!”

“Toga it was stupid, I really don’t think they are going to agre-“

She interrupted him immediately her wide smile turning towards you.

“We should have a party!”

Dabi snorted and turned around, ignoring the smaller blonde, Kurogiri resumed cleaning up from cooking and even Spinner turned back to his game, checking out of the world again. Everyone else in the room was completely ignoring the blonde whose eyes were focused on yours so intently you couldn’t help but swallow. Even Twice was looking up at the ceiling like he was wishing he could be raptured into the heavens to escape the room.

“Toga… why would we have a party?” You tried to reason with her, shrinking back as she bounded over to you taking your hands between hers, her smile wide and toothy.

“To celebrate! Duh! We all need to have fun and relax.”

“But what are we celebrating?”

She paused for a second, a pout on her lips like she was suddenly upset about something before the pout disappeared completely and her smile was back.

“You two getting married of course!”

Dabi choked on his drink, and you could feel your cheeks growing redder by the second. Even Twice looked back to the two of you confusion written all over his face before it transformed into what could only be described as the joy of a puppy.

“You’re getting married? How romantic! You should marry me instead.” He slid up to Dabi wrapping an arm around his shoulder and waggling his eyebrows only for Dabi to push him off a frown on his face as he whirled to face Toga.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You couldn’t help but bristle at the annoyance that was in his tone. Sure Toga was being…. Toga, but he didn’t have to act like getting married was the worst thing he ever heard.

“You’re already bonded, now it’s time to make it official.”

“Bonding makes it official. No one gets married anymore other than rich assholes who want to show off and throw a big party.”

“My parents did..”

“Oh my bad, and dick heads who sell their kids to those rich assholes.”

An awkward silence filled the room as you closed your eyes pretending for a brief moment that he did not just say that. Maybe you imagined it.

“… Y/n?” Toga’s worried voice was soft, and you could smell it as the excitement in her scent was fading quickly, being replaced with a calming beta scent.

Nope, he definitely said that. Taking a deep breath as you steadied yourself before glaring over at Dabi who looked like he was beyond pissed at himself for even opening his mouth.

“Exactly how long have you two known each other?” Shigaraki’s voice spoke up from the doorway that he was watching from, his fingers dropping from his bond mark, it red and raw from previous scratching.

You couldn’t help but sigh in frustration, looking over to Dabi again to see he had his head against the counter of the bar, blocking the rest of them out as he ran his fingers through his hair. For someone who was supposed to be great at lying, he was messing up a lot lately. It was like he wasn’t even trying to hide things anymore.

“How long have I been here?” You shrugged looking back to your ramen and pulling some into your mouth to occupy it. Everyone knew that was a load of bullshit, but you weren’t about to be the one to spill Dabi’s all important secret.

Toga was still looking at you with wide eyes. Eyes filled with pity but also with unbridled affection. You knew she didn’t have the greatest parent’s herself, no matter how much she tried to play it off and deny it. You knew everyone here had parental issues. You weren’t special. None of them were crying about it, and why should you?

Still, the look she was giving you made your throat burn and eyes prick. You pushed past it though and kept your face as neutral as you could. You barely even remembered what your parents looked like. What they did shouldn’t matter to you anymore.

“How long Dabi?”

“It doesn’t matter.” He grumbled against the counter, tapping it twice to signal Kurogiri to get him another drink. You agreed with his statement, it really shouldn’t matter to the rest of the league when the two of you met, or how long you had known each other, but you knew that Shigaraki would take it personally.

“I said how long!” Shigaraki was fuming now, angry that secrets were being kept from him from those who he was supposed to trust. His alpha ruffling up and itching to come out. How could he trust them if they wouldn’t even answer that simple question?

“How long have you known your omega? Huh? How long have you been sneaking out to see them risking us all getting caught?” Dabi whirled on him, getting up so fast that the bar stool tipped over making a loud crash that had you Toga and Twice all wincing, Kurogiri freezing completely. Even Spinner looked up from his game, slowly putting it down like he was ready to separate the two.

Shigaraki’s eyes immediately turned to you, but before he could even take a step towards you Dabi’s voice continued as he pushed himself between you and the angry alpha.

“She didn’t tell me. We all knew, we’ve all known since the first time you disappeared and came back smelling like fucking lilies.”

Shigaraki stopped, looking wildly around the room, his anger still apparent, his fingers itching for something to decay as he looked at all of the league’s members for confirmation.

Toga frowned at him before nodding, keeping her distance and letting out her best calming scent that she could, only for Shigaraki to snarl at her in annoyance, taking a step towards her.

“Stop with that fucking smell. It stinks. You think I need to be comforted like a fucking pup?”

“When you’re fucking acting like one, yea.” Twice stepped between Shigaraki and Toga and even Shigaraki looked genuinely surprised by the Beta’s act of defiance. Twice was never known to go against the alpha’s in the group, especially toe to toe with the dangerous leader himself.

“Tomura…” The smaller beta peeked her head out from behind Twice who was currently puffing his chest trying to look half as intimidating as the alpha in front of him. “None of us care if you have an omega, or if you want to keep them away from us. We know you just want to keep them safe.”

Shigaraki looked around again, noting the similar looks of slight annoyance and understanding before his eyes landed back onto Spinner, probably his closest friend in the league minus Kurogiri. Spinner only shrugged before speaking softly. “I just assumed you would tell us when you were ready. You know we wouldn’t hurt them.”

Tomura paused, his body relaxing slightly as he looked at the ground, almost like he was ashamed of something, his reaction maybe. It was silent for a moment or two before he finally glanced up at you and Dabi a grumble leaving his lips shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket with a shrug, the topic effectively dropped.

“So are we having a wedding or not?”

The groan that left Dabi’s lips had you pouting until he caught sight of the look on your face and caved, pulling you into him looking down at you, his face neurtral and lazy to everyone else but you knew better, you could see the adoration hiding in his cerulean eyes.

“Fine. If you want to throw a dumb party, we will throw a party. But I am absolutely not wearing a tux.”

You couldn’t lie… the thought of him in a tux had you absolutely giddy.

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shutupanakin · 3 years ago

Text

Wasting Your Time ch.1

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

crossposted on ao3 here

Tommy stared at the yellow line, centimeters away from his feet. The announcement of the incoming train ringing in his ears, feeling the approachment of the vehicle vibrate the concrete under his feet. He forced his head up, glaring at the incoming lights.

Tommy squinted. He threw a glance at the only other person waiting on the 11:25 pm train— a little old lady, Tommy was sure that he had at least a foot on her. Her wrinkled hand clutched a brown cane, the other one on her ruby red purse.

Tommy would hate to inconvenience her.

Tommy stepped a few inches back, safely behind the yellow line. The train slowed to a stop, waiting a few moments before the metal doors pulled open in front of him, clicking with a metallic sound. There were a few stragglers at the front, where the elder woman had gotten, and a couple sitting in the midsection. Tommy ducked his head and grabbed a seat at the back.

Tommy threw his feet up on the empty seat next to him, resting the back of his head against the warm glass. Another few seconds and the doors hissed shut. The train pulled away, the lights in the tunnel buzzing past him.

Tommy mentally tallied how many people were in here with him; the three at the front, with the elder woman who was with him on the platform, and the couple. Six people who’s nights he could've possibly ruined. Delaying a train at this time of night would be rude.

Sam would be sleeping, he had morning classes that he couldn't afford to stay up late for. When Tommy slipped out of their flat his older brother had been snoring away peacefully in his room. The thought of Sam makes Tommy pick at a loose thread on his jacket, pulling it with his fingernail. He didn’t want to think about Sam right now.

Tubbo would be up, definitely. His absent sleep schedule sucked. He was probably in a discord call with Ranboo, talking or playing CSGO or messing around in Minecraft , he didn’t know. On a normal night he’d probably be with them. Laughing so hard and loud that it makes the neighbor's dogs bark. Falling over in his chair… and Sam would sleep right through it, like he always did.

Wasn’t exactly a “normal” night, though.

Honestly, he hasn’t had a normal night in a while. Tubbo, often Ranboo, would text him; “wanna play?” Or “why aren’t you in vc?” And Tommy would reply, “sorry, don’t feel like playing”, or,”can’t, got a bunch of homework.” Sometimes that wasn’t a lie. Then, Tubbo just stopped asking. And of course, Tommy couldn’t blame him, it hurt, yeah, but Tommy unintentionally ghosted them.

He just couldn't stand to be in that call, after the last few times. Tubbo and Ranboo giggling at each other, poking fun with inside jokes that Tommy didn’t understand. Little moments like those would have Tommy faking a yawn and saying goodnight. He didn’t want to ruin their fun.

Tommy’s phone buzzed, the little bit of reception that he got down here snapping him back to his current reality. The train had stopped at the next station, the couple standing and the old woman following. Tommy’s eyes followed them as they left, debating if he should follow. Another buzz. Tommy turned his attention back to his phone.

Tubbo at 11:30 pm

Toommy

Tubbo at 11:30 pm

do u wanna play Terraria

His fingers started typing, beginning a message, but shook his head, shoving his phone back in his pocket. His activity on discord was already invisible. Tommy didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t want his last possible text to Tubbo to be something as simple as a turndown to play a game.

A thump from across Tommy startled him, the cause of the sound being a man with a mess of curly brown hair mirroring his position across the aisle. His leg up and arm resting on the top of the seat. Brown eyes framed with round glasses met Tommy’s.

"Got any booze, kid?” The train was pulling away.

For no particular, definitely unrelated reason, Tommy wished that he had just gotten off.

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

The man waved his hand, leaning forward. “Fucking— stop that! You are annoying.”

Tommy grinned, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know,” He said, pocketing the pen. “and you are a loser.”

The man gasped in a show of dramatics. Bringing his arm up to his forehead, the brown fabric of his coat covering his eyes. “Oh, woe me, the tragedy, meeting my end to a child!”

Tommy scowled. “You’re a real prick.”

The older man didn’t falter, continuing his tirade. “Poor, poor me. All thy’ve ever wantedth was thy vodka.”

Tommy didn’t know why he egged this on. He could pull out his earbuds and tune out his nonsense until Tommy or him got off the train, whichever was coming first. “Your Shakespeare sucks,” Tommy grunted. “ Wantedth isn’t a word, bitch.”

“Then you know Shakespeare?”

Quickly, Tommy shook his head. “Absolutely not. None of that nerd shit. I just paid enough attention in Lit to know you’re a fucking moron.”

His eyes narrowed at Tommy, or more so, what he was wearing. “What sport do you play?”

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up, what made him ask that? “Pardon?”

He groaned, rolling his shoulders. “Your jacket, you insolent toddler,” He gestured vaguely at Tommy. “what sport?”

Tommy looked down, glancing at the red thread he was picking at earlier. “Oh,” That came out quieter than Tommy wanted, a whisper. “it’s my brothers,” There was Tommy’s voice. “Got it when he was visiting the states.” Tommy shook his head, brushing the thought of Sam away. ��And my names Tommy, dickhead.”

The complete ass, he had the audacity to hum at him . “Wilbur Soot,”

Tommy scoffed. “That’s a stupid fucking name.”

“You are a child.” Wilbur chided, there was no true heat behind his words.

Tommy shrugged. “You’re a bitch.”

Another stop, Tommy tallied that as the third one; another stop he hadn’t gotten off at. This wasn’t meant to be a trip, he remembered. The ticket, which sat folded in his pants pocket, was one way. Tommy had bought it out of... what was it? Courtesy? He hadn’t intended to survive long enough for the ticket collectors to come around.

Excuses. Excuses, that’s what this was. Tommy was making excuses, simple as that. He wanted to go through with this, he was sure of it. He’d thought about this for weeks, planned this out for days, he figured out which day and which time of night would have the least people. But there were still people, there was the old lady and couple who had gotten off earlier and the four people at the front and the—

Well, there was Wilbur Soot, who for whatever damned, unknown reason, had sat down across from Tommy. Now Tommy was stuck with him until either of them get up and leave. He silently wondered who would go first.

No one had gotten on, or left. The train moved on.

“So uh, where—“ Tommy stumbled, swallowing. “Where you headed?”

Wilbur shrugged, Tommy furrowing his eyebrows. "Nowhere in particular, just felt like getting on. You?”

The fuck did that mean? Tommy thinks. “So you just... got on, no reasoning. Just like that?”

“Just like that. You didn’t answer the question.” Tommy groaned. Tommy was edging back to wanting to punch his stupid face.

“Not when you answer so vaguely,” Tommy cried. “I’m not going anywhere in particular either, for your information.”

“Really?” Wilbur pushed, incredulously. Like he had the right to be skeptical.

“Really.” Honestly, who did this irritable dickhead think he was? Tommy shuffled, folding his arms. Maybe he will get off at the next stop, he won’t ever have to ever see the enraging presence that was Wilbur Soot and his stupid Reagan and Bush sweater again.

Reagan, Reagan… that was an American President, right? The more and more he observed the man, it could be concluded without a doubt that he was a loser. Not only that, but an irritable one. An irritable loser. What a fate, worse than death. He’d say it was a cursed existence, if you asked Tommy.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably, becoming too aware of the hard plastic seat underneath him. “I just needed to get out tonight. Don’t know why.”

Wilbur rapped his knuckles against the window, in a rhythm that Tommy didn’t recognize. “Running from something? School? Parents?” He grinned. “Girlfriend?”

Tommy’s face twisted in disgust. “I— no no no. To all of those! Down the list, no, no, and no. ”

“Running to something then?” You could word it like that. Tommy frowned, decidedly not answering. “What, were you gonna jump then?”

Tommy knew that Wilbur was joking, but he couldn’t help the way he flinched. “I wasn’t going to jump, bitch— do you do this to every stranger you meet on the rails? Interrogate them for their life story?”

Wilbur pointed his index finger towards the front of the train. “They would not care, you know,”

Tommy’s mouth was dry. “What?”

“Them,” Wilbur gestured. “everyone, they would complain about the delay, they— they would be at best inconvenienced. At worst angry at you .”

“You’re real emo, you know,” Tommy deadpanned. “A right gothic.”

“I prefer poet,” Wilbur corrected. “I am not wrong though, the people here, no sympathy. No empathy. Just inconvenienced.”

“You’re inconveniencing me.” Tommy expressed.

“Because you were going to jump?”

“ Oh —“ Tommy snapped. “That’s none of your business! Stop trying to psychoanalyze me you pretentious prick, what I came down here to do is none of your busin—“

“So you were going to? That is what you came down here to do?”

Whatever battle they were fighting, Tommy was losing, and he was exasperated . “Oh, so, what if I was? Why do you care?”

“Come on,” Wilbur said, swinging his legs over the seat and standing up. How his legs weren’t asleep, Tommy didn’t know. Tommy hit his asleep leg, silently cursing it.

“Wha’?” Tommy asked, narrowing his eyes. “What makes you think I wanna get off with you?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Well, I have nowhere to go, and you have nowhere to go, and to be honest this is getting depressing. And, I would rather not leave a possible suicidal teenager alone. Also, I know a store outside this station.”

Tommy groaned. “Oh no,” He said. “I’m being kidnapped. No, stop, someone help please.” He stood up, shaking the static like feeling out of his left leg. Begrudgingly following Wilbur when the sliding doors pulled open. “Is this the part where your gang comes around the corner in a white van and shoves me in?”

“I don’t have enough friends for that.” Wilbur insisted, leading Tommy up the concrete stairs of the station. Tommy couldn’t help his smile. “I believe you.” Wilbur blew air out his nose, hopefully in amusement.

Tommy checked his phone, the bright light illuminating his face as he and Wilbur stepped out of the tunnel. 12:22 am stared back at him, along with a few more texts from Tubbo. Tommy pocketed it.

Tommy breathed in the crisp midnight air, after almost an hour in the underground, the fresh air felt nice. The area was rural, decently lit for the middle of the night. Tommy turned to look at Wilbur. “So where we goin? Pub? Club? I don’t have a fake ID, big dubbs.”

“No,” Wilbur shook his head, starting his trekk up the hill. “Store, if you can call it that. He is open until three.”

They crossed the street before Wilbur came to a stop, tapping his foot against the ground. “This it?” Tommy asked, reading the sign. Wilbur giving a mmm hmm — in response.

JACK OF ALL TRADES

That was… lame, Tommy thought. “I can’t go in though.” Tommy double-took, stepping back.

“What do you mean you can’t go in?!” He hissed.

“Got banned.” Wilbur replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“How?”

Wilbur slapped him on the shoulder. “Story for later, my young friend. Maybe refrain from telling Jack I sent you in, though.”

Tommy huffed. “You suck.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket. “You’re not gonna ditch me here are you?”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, holding up three fingers. “I swear on it.” His smile grew, eyes shining.

He sighed. “Why am I going in again?” It seemed rather pointless, to take Tommy to a store he wasn’t even allowed in. With a quick glance through the windows Tommy guessed it was some sort of gift shop, snow globes and odd looking jewelry lining their respective shelves.

Wilbur tilted his head. “Because it will give you something to do other than to ride the tube to the end of the tracks trying to make up your mind.” He answered.

“When you put it like that,” Tommy grumbled, pushing open the door, triggering the bell at the top to ring. The inside was small, and warm. It was definitely homey.

“Hello!” A heavy accented voice greeted Tommy looked up, a shaved headed man wearing a striped hoodie smiling at him. Jack, he assumed. He sat behind the counter, his legs perched up on the counter. He put down the magazine he had been reading. “What brings you here this time of night?”

Tommy’s mouth formed into a ‘o’, he didn’t expect to have to make conversation with another stranger tonight. “Oh, um,” He cringed, running his hand through his hair. “out for a walk, saw you were open.” He lied, Wilbur had said not to bring him up.

Starting to pick at the thread again, his eyes scanning over the snow globes and miniature statues. His attention fell on a bowl of pins, some were round and others were shaped. The scan bars on the back faded or scratched out.

He reached in, moving around the pins. He wasn’t really searching for anything specifically. Tommy rubbed his thumb over the bee shaped pin he had pulled out. “How much?”

“The pin?” Tommy nodded. “Two pounds.” Jack answered.

Tommy blinked. “That’s ridiculous.” He grumbled, opening his wallet. He handed it to Jack, fiddling with the bee pin.

“Have a goodnight now!” Jack called as Tommy left, stepping outside. Wilbur was there, like he said he’d be.

“Did you get banned for complaining about his obscure prices?” Tommy sneered, making Wilbur laugh. “Absolute ridiculousness.”

“What did you get?” Tommy opened his palm, showing the bee. He attached it to his jacket, the needle clicking into place.

“Jackets blank, thought it could use something.” Tommy explained, walking beside Wilbur. “I’ve been completely ripped off, though. You did this to me.”

“No no, mister Jack Manifold did that to you. Not me.” Wilbur expressed. “I merely brought you there.”

“To be scammed.” Tommy insisted.

Their walk back to the tube station was pleasantly uneventful, Tommy didn’t comment on how Wilbur got on the opposite platform they got off of. He guessed that was the sign that this night was coming to an end. They were going back in the direction they came.

Tommy silently wished that they didn’t, that they kept going. The idea of returning home was becoming less and less appealing. The robotic voice echoed through the speakers, announcing the incoming train.

Tommy resisted the urge to make a jumping joke, knowing that would earn him a smack against the head or something. So he stood behind the yellow line, Wilbur at his side. The inside had a single man, at the front alone. Tommy ignored him, hitching his seat at the back, Wilbur sitting across from him.

“This wasn’t how I planned my night, by the way,” Tommy grumbled.

“I know,” Wilbur told. “I am sure this had the better outcome though. I will make you a deal, okay?” Tommy nodded, starting to play with the edge of his sleeves. “If you can make it to the end of the week without, trying to jump in front of another train, or try to kick a chair out from underneath you—“

“That would be a really lame way to die,” Tommy interjected.

“I am giving an example, Tommy,” Wilbur huffed. “If you make it through the end of the week, come back here. Same day.”

Tommy considered it. “Same time?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Sure, although I would not recommend making a habit of sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, contemplating. This offer— there was no reason he had to take it. He could get off and never see Wilbur again, it wouldn’t change anything. The world will continue spinning, they would both move on, Wilbur would eventually forget about this strange encounter, and so would Tommy.

They stopped, again, no one getting on or off. Wilbur was still waiting for his answer. Tommy didn’t have it.

This was nice though , Tommy thought. It was nice to leave that flat, to get off his mattress. To have a reason to ignore the discord messages from Tubbo and Ranboo. He didn’t have to lay in bed, dreading going to his classes the next day, because he was occupied. He had something to do.

“Alright,” Tommy said. “I’ll take that bet, big man.”

“Deal?” Wilbur reached his hand out, Tommy leaned forward, shaking it.

“Deal,” Tommy gave a toothy smile. “I’ll try not to become a tubeline statistic until next week.”

“That is not funny,” Wilbur warned, although there was no true malice in his tone. “I will have you know statistics are no laughing matter.” Tommy barked out a laugh, the serious expression Wilbur word dropping. If the stragglers at the front were giving bewildered stares at Tommy, he didn’t notice.

“It was…” He wheezed. “It was kinda funny. If anyone gets to joke about that it’s me, alright? Isn’t that some, therapist shit or something? Using humor to cope? That’s me. I’m doing that.”

“You should try that, seeing a therapist,”

Therapy was useless, at least to Tommy. He didn’t need someone in a fancy office to tell him something was wrong with him, he knew damn well what was wrong with him. No pens, or clipboards, or uncomfortable couches, or ticking clocks and judgemental eyes will be able to tell him something that he didn’t already know.

Tommy thinks Sam knows one, or at least she’s studying to become one. A school friend that Tommy’s met maybe twice. The mere idea of dumping his shit on her, he almost felt bad! No thank you , Tommy thought. He would be avoiding that.

“Nah,” Tommy brushed it off. “I don’t do that. Don’t need that. Won’t do anything for me.”

Tommy didn’t realize how long they had been talking, because when the train slowed into a familiar station, Wilbur pulled himself up. Tommy frowned, watching the man stand next to the doors, waiting for them to pull open.

“So, see you next week Toms?” He teased.

Tommy groaned in annoyance. “We are certainly not at Toms yet, big dubbs.”

“I will get there I’m sure,” He said, stepping out. “Farewell Tommy!” He waved, Tommy’s urge to punch those stupid glasses off his face coming back.

Tommy flipped him off, watching the curly mop of brown hair disappear as the train started moving, the platform and the man with it being replaced by the cement walls.

His stop was next, he realized. Tommy would get off, he would walk home and slip into his bed and would have to pray that Sam’s heavy sleeping habits had not changed; that he hadn’t gotten up and realized that his bed was empty, or that the door was unlocked. The thought of Sam sitting there on the couch, waiting for him to enter the door like some sort of walk of shame—

Tommy quickly checked his phone, looking at the notifications. He breathed in relief, no notifications from Sam. No missed calls, no voice mails, no worried text messages; all things that would indicate Sam was awake and that he knew Tommy was out.

Shakily, Tommy stood up. The doors clicked open, waiting for him to exit. He could just keep going the other direction, he thought. He made no promise to Wilbur to return home.

Tommy stepped out, the doors hissing shut behind him. Wind bristled through his hair as the train moved again, almost taunting him. Look at me! Look what you missed!

He chose not to, though. Tommy didn’t because of a bet, and he didn’t even place money on it. A simple bet of wills was supposed to keep Tommy running till the end of the week. It wasn’t like Tommy didn’t enjoy Wilburs company either, it was… nice, having someone to just talk to, to engage with. He didn’t have to raise his voice or make a scene to get him to listen to him.

He would never tell Wilbur that, though. He was fucking irritating enough.

Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets, leaving the station. He’d come back, alright. If not just to prove something to Wilbur but to himself, maybe.

He really should've put money on it, though.

#tommy #tommyinnit #sbi #sleepy bois inc #sleepy boys inc #crime boys #wilbur soot #wilbur #crime bois #dream #dream smp #dsmp #wyt shutupanakin #shutupanakin posts

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jadienjaystoriesandart · 4 years ago

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Sander Sides - Coraline AU

So when scrolling through one of my favorite channels on here I saw someone mention Janus as Other Father, and this got my creativity going. I’ll hash out the characters and ideas, then give you a basic idea of what is cooking in my head. However, I’m not sure on how I want things to go in terms of plot. But I do have a general idea of the characters and their roles as well as background.

Other Mother: Logan Sanders

In this idea the Other Mother would have been Patton, but given there are so many sides, I thought he’d fit another role better. Then my sister suggested Logan as Other Mother, and it fits for the basic plot I have in mind. He goes by Logic by the others in the Other World, or as they call it the Alternate World or Pocket World.

Logan says he’s the eldest one here along with Patton and Janus, and seems to be the head of the ‘family’. He’s a very stoic mother, pushing his kids, which in this case is Roman, Remus, and Virgil, to be smart. Not in a bad way, he’s a silently content mother, and you can tell when he’s proud of you. He cleans mostly and makes sure everything is in place, and enjoys gardening. Mostly he stays in the study or outside.

In terms of power, Logan is the most powerful of them due to being the oldest person there. And no, he doesn’t turn into a spider being, he actually is a type of bird. Looking alot like harpy when you really tick him off. His buttons are dark blue with silver thread and his skin is warm but overly smooth.

Other Fathers: Patton and Janus Sanders No one is really sure who is older, they’ve always been with each other. Janus enjoys making music and Patton enjoys cooking for the family. Both are very fatherly and enjoy doting on their kids. Going by the names of Morality and Deceit/Self. When mother dear isn’t around, it’s up to the one of the fathers to sort things out. Janus is strange, as in he’s the one who gives the hints something isn’t quiet right. Though it’s unknown if these are his actions or not. He seems to like challenging kids that come to the Pocket World to think about what they are seeing and why. Yet does it a very coy way. Then there are days he’ll do a 180 and ask you not to question anything and actively lie about things. His buttons are dark gold with black thread, and he does have scales on his face still. Though, to a kid that’s nothing. Patton is cheerful and bubbly, his dinners are always the best as is his sweets. He’s the one that mostly sticks to Logan the most, and enjoys gardening also. He’s the first to make sure one doesn’t question, easily deflecting odd things, and is great at distracting people. He is Nostalgia after all, his areas when your near him make you feel so happy and get you lost in happy moments. His buttons are light blue with dark blue tread. Both take on forms of a Frog and Snake when angry, which are terrifying. Their skin is also very rubbery feeling. Other Brother: Virgil Sanders Virgil here is the youngest, looking like he’s only 15 or 16. He’s been here the shortest... and looks oddly like a kid that went missing back in the early 2000′s. The Family calls his Anxiety, and he’s rather withdrawn. But does enjoy playing video games or board games with Patton, Janus, and Logan. Soft spoken, sarcastic, and a little emo spiderling, he’s adored by Patton mostly. Who calls him the ‘Dark Strange Son’ alot. Virgil seems rather happy in the Other World. Stating to little Thomas that this world is much better than anything he could dream of. He’s however hesitant to answer questions about things not inside the Other World. Telling Thomas to not think about that, and just be happy. He enjoys his room/the attic, and outside in the front yard. When angry, Virgil is the one with the spider form, taking on a more glass like look and his skin is cold to the touch. His buttons are dark purple with light purple thread.

Other Twins: Roman and Remus Sanders The two Creativity Rascals, they are slightly older then Virgil, but much younger than Janus and Patton. They can warp reality around them when in their favorite spots, be it the Basement for Remus, or the Woods for Roman. Their rooms are actually in the basement in the door near the left side of the house. While Virgil's is in the attic. They serve as the entertainment, coming up with ideas on the fly to go on adventures, play dragons and knights, or kings and castles. The forest, quiet literally, is their playground. Having their own fort and castle there, and a while bunch of land to cover. The twins play fight alot, but they get along very well and are rather close to one another. And are like the cool older brothers who have alot of fun, but are happy to let the youngers join them. Both have tentacles in this one, though Remus is more slimy than his brother. And when they open their extra mouths on their body when angry, it’s very scary. Roman’s buttons are red with green thread, while Remus is green with red thread. And their skin is like plastic almost. Coraline: Thomas Anderson He’s about 12 in this one, just moved to the country side in a little blue house on the back dirt roads. This town is dreadfully boring, with dull, muted colors, always over cast and rainy. It’s like all the happiness has been sucked out of it and left to decay. Thomas is not upset about the move, as he never had many friends, if any, from his old home. He’s mostly upset with the fact he’s just dull, he’s not allowed to be colorful. And to top it off, his parents aren’t always there emotionally for him. Leaving him completely isolated, even more so when he’s a closeted gay in a very religious family. So when he finds a world where everything is colorful, with three dads, well two and a mom, a family who cares about him, he’s excited. Maybe this move won’t be so bad.

Plot: The idea in my head is that Thomas has moved with his parents to a rather nice when hie father got a promotion. But, like most typical rich families, he’s not really paid attention to. And Thomas feels mostly left out, having no friends to call his own, and just his imagination and books to keep him busy. When exploring his new house, finding the attic and basement locked, and a small golden key, he finds a little door. It’s been walled off, which is a bummer. That is until the middle of the night, when Thomas follows a shadow to the door. Finding it leads to a world that is perfect. The world represents everything Thomas wants, brothers, Roman, Remus, and Virgil. Fathers, Patton and Janus, and a mother, Logan, who actually cares about him. He isn’t sure if this is some very real dream or not. But he’s not complaining, he feels welcomed instantly byt he family. Taken on adventures with Roman and Remus, playing games with Virgil and learning knew things from Logan, helping Patton cook, and Janus teaches him music and among other things. But when after a week of this, Thomas starts to see strange cracks in their personalities. And when they one day ask if he wants to stay forever and be part of their family, it meets getting this pink buttons in his eyes. He’s terrified, and now wonders if he’ll ever escape... or even if he wants to. Notes:

So I’m not sure how I want it to be played out. If the Others are truly evil in just that they want to kidnap Thomas just because they are selfish and/or turn him into a doll. OR if I want it to be well meaning sinister, where they think they are doing Thomas a favor by taking him away from his neglectful family.

One thing to note is they do really like Thomas, regardless of intentions, they do like him. And either way, they want him to stay forever.

Now, I’m not sure if I want with the Other Father for Patton to be controlling Janus or Janus to be controlling Patton. One of them is well aware of what they are doing, but can’t go against the wishes of their controller or Logan. While they are happy, the idea of luring kids tends to hurt them inside.

The Other World is bigger than Thomas things, he’s just in a small area that belongs to Logan. There are MANY others out there. Who lure people away into their realm, for better or worse. It’s like it’s own reality, only everything is just perfect. It’s like a nostalgic trap, much like Patton’s room only worse.

Logan is the main guy, he’s been at this for a long time, and either Patton or Janus is their partner depending on who is controlling who. He mainly lures kids as he likes the taste of their humanity. It’s what he feeds off of, draining them of their everything, and making them like dolls, only with a semi soul. Any who does this too becomes his kid or helper. Logan is fine with this, he enjoys having a family. And he only has to feed every few decades or so. He’s been around for a long time. Most of his ‘kids’ have grown up, and become true Others who have their own areas. Virgil, Roman, and Remus though are still MUCH too young for such a thing. Others are NOT human, nor are they ‘aliens’ either. Best thing I can think of are like Fae, only... less magical as we know it. They are creatures who feed off of emotions and the essences that make people human. Which is why they all feel like dolls.

Others are near immortal should they feed properly, and Others areas tend to just attract people to them. Some go after teens, others kids, some adults, taste is everything. Adults tend to be more fulling, but can be bitter and sour tasting, Teens are half and half depending on situation, and are often spicy tasting. While kids are very sweet, and typically are fulling also depending on how well you’ve gained their trust. If you can get them to agree to being an other, even better. It’s harder than it sounds though.

Each Other does have a specific power that they use. Which I am still hashing out in my head.

They rarely get angry, but boy is it scary when they do.

The key only is Thomas’s interpretation of the entrance way, it can be anything to get into the Other World. It’s all up to the person in how THEY think to get in. It could be walking through two trees making a hole in them, opening a door that is only unlocked on certain days, or even just crawling under your bed. It’s up to the seeker how they wish to get in, which is why the Other World can stay in one spot, no matter the house or thing built on it.

There is no real moral code for Others, their world is very well hidden. But they are very protective of their charges when they find the right type of feed off of. Logan gets extremely possessive of Thomas when he shows up, not as in he punishes the others, but if Thomas ever thinks about leaving or tries too, Logan would lock him up until Thomas gives into despair.

If they are being unruly or try to escape, one way to get them ot agree is by isolating them, and cutting them off from happiness. Which makes kids and teens want to stay once they leave their isolation. Logan dislikes doing this, but going without a food source is rather painful, and he’d rather not put himself or his partner through that. So if he must, he will make sure the target stays. Even if it won’t be as filling as if they agreed willingly.

Also, their areas is often where their power is the strongest.

-0-0-0-0-0-

So Yeah, there it is, if you guys have any question just let me know. And this goes to @fangirltothefullest who when I mentioned this idea to her really wanted to see this. I still need more for it, but I like the concept of it, it’s much different from the books, but that’s what makes it interesting. Could easily be Angst with Happy Ending. Could even get more sinister than this. We’ll see. Might post more about this later. And fanart is well loved, I can draw, but not well enough in my mind lol.

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todourouki · 4 years ago

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Misery Business | K. Bakugou

a one shot

✰ SUMMARY the one where you didn’t mean to take the hothead away from his girlfriend, but you did anyway. It was nothing personal, you just knew that Bakugou Katsuki deserved way better than what he was settling for.

PAIRING Taken/Pro-Hero!Bakugou & Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT 4.6K

WARNINGS explicit language, mentions of cheating, cheating lol, suggestive language, angst, and some fluff at the end bc I cannot end my fics in a bad way I am weak sorry!

You were not a home wrecker.

At least, you wouldn’t say that to your own face.

You knew that the crush you had on Bakugou was wrong. You know that no matter how it is that you put it, or however strong your feelings are, or even however long you’ve even had feelings— liking a guy in a relationship was a huge no-no.

You weren’t the kind of girl to go around liking a girl’s boyfriend, though. It’s not like your feelings magically appeared out of thin air and now you’re stuck falling inlove with a guy that finds solitude in someone else— no, you aren’t like that.

Your feelings for Bakugou are much more complex, to say the least.

It all started in high school, when just the mere thought of the boy brought butterflies to your stomach with how strong and courageous he was. From his attractive face, to his blunt and explosive personality, you always found yourself admiring him when given the chance.

All of that went to shit when he decided to finally give one of the girls that were always fawning over him a chance during the beginning of your third year attending Yuuei Academy.

It was like you had gotten punched in the face, and now it feels like you’re just purposely getting stabbing in the heart every time you did as much as look at them.

That definitely explains why you’re sulking at your table during a school dance with a scowl on your face so you don’t have to see the happy couple waltz around the cafeteria floor.

All the top Pro-Heroes were assigned to attend the dance as academy alumni in order to ensure the safety of the students (as well as make sure students even decided to show up). You, being one of the top five heroes, were ordered to show up with no complaints.

The song currently playing finally changed from a low-tempo song to a much higher one, and with that, you decided to make that your imaginary queue to take a walk around the school’s building before returning to the large decorated area.

Your heel-clad feet dragged you all the way across the gymnasium, sending kids smiles if they were in your way and simply telling them that you were “getting some fresh air before the real fun starts.”

The doors slammed shut, and the solitude of the hallways engulfed in dark hues reflected against your strained eyes in a way that made you have to physically restrain your hand from harshly rubbing at it in order to make sure your make up stood intact.

The halls reminded you of a younger you (and by younger, you mean two years. you’re only 20 and already have the mind of some old hag) that used to run through these halls with a mini little green skirt and an imagination you wish you could still understand.

They also reminded you of the blond boy inside. Especially the room you stood in front of right now.

Almost as if it was second nature, your body made its way to Class 1-A: the place where it all began, the place where you met your closest friends, and the place where you fell inlove.

Opening the door, the lights turned on to reveal a classroom almost identical to the one you walked into every day four years ago. The desks were positioned the same, the posters remained in the same spot, and even the words on the chalkboard seemed oddly familiar.

The room reeked of new paint and textbook papers, and the only thing you really wanted to smell was the designer perfume clinging helplessly to your body so the odors of a high school class don’t even think twice about sticking to you.

Your body walked towards your old desk, Seat 12, the dress you wore clinging to your body as you pulled the chair out and nostalgically sat down. You were a first year all over again, and the thought made you laugh.

You looked embarrassing your first year— as embarrassing as someone who looks like you now can get. From the hideously overheated hair, to the emo phase you still seemed to sort of be stuck in, the world seemed too easy no matter what bullshit was going on the minute you sat down at that desk.

That explained how you felt now— no matter how much your heart yearned to be in the hands of Bakugou, the minute the cold sturdiness of the chair touched your warm body, all of that disappeared. For once, nothing in the world mattered. More precisely, Bakugou didn’t matter.

“Tch, I knew you’d be in here.” Annnddd there goes that.

Your eyes widened, now staring at a smirking blond wearing a black and white tux instead of the chalkboard you once zoned out on.

His arms were crossed against his muscular chest, and the muscles outlined the button up shirt in a way that should just be downright illegal. His face was gleaming with mischief, slowly walking his way over to the empty desk directly next to yours, taking a seat, and positioning his body in a lazy manner with his legs propped up against the table. Just like before.

“You know, this brings back a lot of shitty memories.” He grunted, stretching his arms behind his head and lolling his head to face you.

You nodded in response, glancing your head up to look at the lights in a way to move the gears in your brain to say something. Literally the same thing you used to do during Midnight’s long, tedious classes.

“Yea, a bunch of ones I’d much rather forget.” You said, looking over at him and watching as his eyes stared directly at the window you always found him staring out of when he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone in class.

“Always hearing your annoying ass mumble and suck your teeth used to really piss me off.” His words were masked with seriousness, trying to hide the playful smirk on his lips you identified much too quickly. With that, a scoff left your lips and you crossed your arms.

“Nobody said anything about the pencil you insisted on tapping for hours straight.” Your jab back made him chuckle, looking back at you with vermillion eyes that made you lose all sense of feelings.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you always forgot what it was like to look at anything before you looked into his eyes. That’s how scary it was— how intimidating it was to be under his presence. His eyes captured you, holding you hostage and probably never letting you go.

“At least we didn’t sit next to each other during our third year,” he began, placing a hand loosely around his tie as he continued to look at you in your eyes, “I don’t think I would have ever focused with the humming you did to the same damn song every day.”

“Yeah, instead of me though, you ended up sitting with your future wife.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID.

It was like word vomit, the snarky tone slipping through your lips as if it was trying its hardest to come off in a jokingly manner, only ending up appearing as sarcastic as possible. It was like the words fell from your tongue quicker than you could punch your own esophagus.

Bakugou stood quiet for a moment, staring at you and knitting his eyebrows together as if deep in thought. Your eyes ended up leading you back to the words Relief Fund written messily against the green chalkboard to save your embarrassment.

You didn’t see the frown itching across Bakugou’s lips.

“We aren’t married, ya know. I don’t know why people decided to start that rumor.” He said, a sigh passing by his lips to quiet his tone as if he was scared his girlfriend was around to hear it.

“Might as well marry her. You’re not really the kind of guy that dates just to date.” Your words struck hesitantly in the room in a timid yet informative voice, and Bakugou watched the board as well so that you were both avoiding each other’s gaze.

“Yeah well I’m not sure, marriage is a big deal.” Bakugou was muttering, and the tone of his voice made you crane your neck over to where he was seated as you stood quiet.

What were you, someone who was basically inlove with him, supposed to say that?

You both stood in silence for a few seconds, the words in your throat itching to escape as the remnants of memories you both had both in class and just together in general filled your vision.

“I always hated this seat because I knew it meant that I would always be the person you would argue with.” You began, closing your eyes and releasing a strained scoff from your glossed lips.

You didn’t know what you were doing, or what you were talking about, but as the moon danced across the pale boy’s face and the music in the cafeteria continued to gently ring through the halls, the only thing you were thinking about doing was speaking more than you ever have.

“Morning after morning, I grew used to your loud voice and extremely hostile—” “HAH? I was NOT—”

You sent him a glare, immediately cutting him off and proceeding your weird speech that just couldn’t let anything go.

“Anyways, morning after morning, I ended up looking forward to the words you decided to call me and yell at me about for the day. It’s like, if it didn’t happen,” your arms moved in an animated way, catching Katsuki’s full attention as he looked on to your rant, “I felt like my day wasn’t really an actual day, ya know?

The one thing you loved appreciated most about Bakugou was his ability to listen. And when you say listen, you mean just listen. His ears were perked up in your direction, shoes turned towards you and eyes watching your movements like a hawk.

“And then—” you gulped, pausing for a second in order to think your words though. It was always now or never to you, the drama giving you a sense of hope against a man like that.

It’s either I bring it up now, or I never get to speak my peace, and I refuse to be one of those people showing up to the wedding yelling ‘I oppose.’

“And then it was here that I realized I was the biggest idiot alive by feeling the way I felt about this one person.” You said, eyes glaring at the wall in front of you blankly as you cowered behind the whisps of your lashes.

Bakugou said nothing, but from the corner of you eye, you could see him staring at the side of your face with an expression you had never really see on him.

“I spent years pining after some dumbass that didn’t even see the genuine interest I had in him.” Your words were like alcohol, and Bakugou was too busy drinking them all in to fully acknowledge what you were talking about.

“I watched him give in to this one girl though,” a lightbulb when off in the boy’s head and for once, he felt like the idiot in the room, “a girl that doesn’t even care for him.”

“Y/N..” Bakugou growled, almost as if he was threatening you and warning you to tread on light waters.

If there was one thing he ever respected about you though, it was that you were never scared of him.

Your eyes snapped towards him, a scowl on your face as you began to feel anger bubbling up in your stomach from the way he tried to shut you up. You were finally speaking your peace and he’s too much of a coward to let you finish?

“You know, I thought the first red flag of her trying to change his attitude was enough. I thought that maybe, just maybe, after her telling him that being number one hero wasn’t really tangible, he’d have some common fucking sense and see what everyone else sees.” Your words were like venom, your eyes not leaving his as you huffed in your seat.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Bakugou’s voice was low and angry, laced with anger as he stared at you just as intensely as you stared at him. Your expression never faltered, and instead, you turned your entire body around in the chair to fully face him with arms across your chest.

“I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about,” you taunted, your anger only rising in value, “and so the fuck do you, Bakugou.”

“You know she doesn’t give a fuck about you and you know very fucking well she’s only with you because you’re Bakugou Katsuki!”

His name slipping off your tongue brought shivers to his spine as he sat up in his seat and glared at you with the tip of his ears painting themselves a light red hue.

He was angry— not necessarily at you, but at the fact that he was getting called out for something like this. He was getting called out for finally being with a girl and was getting shit for it from someone he saw as a best friend.

“You don’t know shit— you don’t even fucking know her.” His voice began to get louder, the bass in his voice causing your heart to vibrate as you shocked both you and him by slamming a hand against the desk in frustration.

“For God’s sake, Katsuki open your fucking eyes!” You only used his first name when your emotions were high, and that made the man’s hands shake in anger as he watched your outburst.

“She forgot your anniversary! She doesn’t make you your favorite food— fuck she doesn’t even kiss you unless there’s a shitty camera around!” You stood up, stomping your feet and watching as he stood up quickly after you and scowled over at your angry face.

“She doesn’t care enough to remember shit that you don’t like which is why you always end up at stupid shit like this and she doesn’t even care to meet your friends!” Your voice was now loud, the music of the cafeteria being long forgotten as you huffed over at him and slammed a finger into his chest at every syllable you spoke.

“You want to know what I think about her, Bakugou? Bestfriend to bestfriend?” The words bestfriend seethed through your lips like venom as your finger dug itself into the middle of his pecks. He said nothing, waiting for you to continue as his hands balled into fists along his sides.

“I think that you’re such a fucking pussy, you can’t fathom being with someone who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on the way she does.” You growled, narrowing your eyes at his angry expression as you took a step closer to him threateningly.

“I think you hate the fact that I’m right— the fact that she blatantly uses you and doesn’t give a fuck about you, and you hate the fact that I know you so well enough to know that—”

Before the last few letters of the words could slip through your lips, a warm hand slammed against your fingers and snatched it into his grasp as he began to huff in anger. The caramel smell only increased, and you could sense his quirk begin to flare the abnormal heat in his hands up every second.

“You don’t know shit,” he growled, his voice raising as he began to yell at you in your face, “you don’t know shit about me!”

“Are you shitting me?!” You exclaimed, grabbing at the hand that grasped yours with a grip so tight Bakugou had to glance at it quickly before reverting his eyes back to yours.

“I’ve known every little fucking thing about you since we were fifteen!” You yelled, tears threatening to spill down your eyes as the anger inside you finally erupted in a way you couldn’t control.

“Nobody asked you to be so invested in my fucking life anyway!” He retaliated, his voice booming through the room as you stared at him incredulously.

“I was so fucking invested in you because I’m fucking inlove with you, you idiot!”

Your voice silenced the room, the grip he had on your hand tightening as he stared at you with shocked eyes yet the same familiar scowl you were used to. Your expression never faltered the way his eyes did when he heard you, though. You stood your ground.

“It’s so annoying seeing the guy you are inlove with be so unhappy in a relationship because he feels as if he has no one else.” Your voice began to quiet down, a tear slipping down your eye as Bakugou watched you with a slightly softened face.

The hand gripping yours loosened a bit, still gripping it to his chest as he wrapped all his fingers around your bracelet covered wrist.

“It’s so annoying watching you try to force someone else to fall inlove with you, when I’ve been inlove with you for free for years. It hurts watching you try to force yourself to be inlove with a girl you know you don’t want to be with. It just fucking hurts Bakugou, so fucking bad.”

There was a crack in your voice that Bakugou knew all too well from the restless nights you’d spend together, and it didn’t take much for him to engulf your frame into a tight hug as he rested his head against yours. You dived into his chest, the familiar warmth wrapping around you in a way that made a few more tears slip from your eyes. You didn’t make a noise, but he knew that you were hurting.

Neither of you said anything, only holding each other until you removed yourself from him and wiped the tears off your face before he could see the evident streams marking your cheeks. He stared at you silently, as if he was contemplating something.

With timid eyes, he watched you fix the straps of your dress to find something to play with under his gaze. The silence was deafening, and was an unusual characteristic for the boy who always had something to say.

“You know she hates me, that’s why you never bring her around me.” You said, a tone of blankness carrying your voice through the room as your tears dried up and was replaced by the anger haunting your heart once again.

“No she doesn’t, she just feels like we’re too close.” Bakugou retorted, sighing and taking a seat on the chair he once occupied. You followed suit, leaning against the back of your own seat as you faced his body.

“Back in high school, I never told you this, but her and I argued in the bathroom once.” You informed, dryly chuckling as you watched his face contort with confusion.

“I told her that her pretty little face and fucked up manipulation wasn’t going to keep you around in the long run.” You stood quiet after letting him know, gulping some saliva down as you averted your gaze from his body to your painted nails. “Guess I was wrong.”

Bakugou didn’t know what to do. There were many things the man was capable of: he could destroy any villain in his way, was braver than any other fucking half assed hero out there, was smart as fuck, and could manage a relationship as well as being a top pro-hero because that’s just who he was.

What he couldn’t do, though, was fully digest the situation in front of him.

He bit his lip, running a hand across his face in frustration and staring meekly at your face. You couldn’t help but admire his frame as you did before. He was strong, well-built, smelled good, had great posture— there was nothing wrong with him. It was almost surreal.

“We’ve been dating for like two years.” Bakugou’s low voice broke the silence as he stared deep into your now glazed over eyes. You didn’t break the contact, hands rested against each side of the seat as you watched him speak.

“I’ve been dating her for two years and yet...” His words were lost, almost sounding as if he was hesitating the very same way you were earlier. You said nothing though, knowing he would stop expressing himself if you had opened your mouth.

“And yet I can’t help but imagine she was someone else.”

It was like every word he said was the last glass of water, and you drank it up against your skin in a way that brought goosebumps to his. You furrowed your eyebrows, silently signaling for him to continue.

“I never told you this,” he mocked your voice, his scowl still resting against his soft face, “but there was a time where I thought about what it would be like if we were a shitty thing.”

Everyone always assumed Bakugou and you would end up together. Whether it be from watching you both pin are each other relentlessly, to watching you fawn over him, and from just watching your interactions with one another— it almost seemed destined for you two to work out. Keyword: almost.

“Shitty Hair and Dunce-Face tell me all the fucking time that I’m an idiot for choosing this girl over you.” He scoffed, and you couldn’t help but feel your stomach tingle at the use of the name ‘this girl’ for his own girlfriend. “It’s not like I wanted to, you were always my first option.”

You stood quiet. The last sentence was lower than the others and sounded way more vulnerable. You couldn’t help but gape at him, repeating it in your brain as if they was the last words you’d ever hear again. You were always my first option.

Maybe it was the buzz you felt from the energy within the room, maybe you were drunk on adrenaline, or maybe you were just being a fucking dumbass, but the way your feet moved you from your seat to the desk he was sitting at was something you just couldn’t stop in time.

Bakugou hasn’t said anything beyond what he just finished as he watched you gently push his body away and hop up onto the desk. Your body was now inches away from his as you watched him shyly. You were always so obnoxiously close to him, so why is it that his stomach was throwing fireballs at his insides now?

“You deserve better, Katsu..” You lowly began, fiddling with the rings on your fingers as you glanced over at his body through your dark eyelashes. “Does she take care of you?”

Your words hit him in the chest and he couldn’t find it within himself to look away from you. He wasn’t sure what it was, or how you were doing it, but he was entranced by your every word and it was scaring the shit out of him. He found himself shaking his head, eyes never leaving yours as the scowl in his face began to soften.

“You’re a strong man, Katsu,” the way his nickname slipped from your lips nearly made him melt, the unfamiliar feelings he was so used to suppressing caused his head to jumble around and process your words, “you need someone who takes care of you the right way.”

You watched him, a hand lifting towards his head and running itself through his soft yet spikey hair. Bakugou always claimed he hated it when you played with his hair since that was something he thought no one was close enough to be able to touch, but he always seemed to lean into you unknowingly.

His chair scooted closer to the table, your legs now in between his lazily opened ones and his body aching to go closer into your touch.

“What are you suggesting?” His dark voice questioned, eyes staring at you as the once softened expression transformed into another of a slowly rising mischievous smirk. You were sure you were breathing earlier, but now? Not so much.

“Are you suggesting that I need someone else to take care of me?” His words hit you hard, your body facing whiplash from all the sudden changes of emotion.

You looked down shyly, trying to find the confidence you once had that was now lost in the gush of your flustered moment, yet Bakugou’s calloused, warm hand then reached up to your chin to perk it up to face his now standing body.

“Are you saying that you should be the one taking care of me?” He asked, staring at your eyes with more intensity than you were fully even prepared for. Your eyes dug into his as the feeling of his hands on your chin caused your brain to short circuit for a moment.

“You said it yourself, I’m a strong man.” You could feel the confidence drip from his words as you bit your left cheek to keep from whimpering at the intensity laced within the empty classroom. “I need someone to take care of me the right way, and I don’t think this girl is doing it Y/N.”

The use of your name caused you to tug your bottom lip between your teeth and blush behind his words. You didn’t miss the way his eyes quickly zipped from your eyes to your mouth, and back to your eyes once again. His body was now towering over your seated one, looking down at you as if you were the only person in the world at this moment.

Bakugou was out of it, to say the least. Usually he felt as if he had control over situations like this, but even with towering over your frame and his hand gripping your chin, he felt as if you were in complete control of the situation. He knew that his current girlfriend was probably coming to look for him, and he knew that everything was inevitable and he was simply just prolonging it.

That didn’t stop him from sliding his hand across your neck to grip the back of it and pull your face in towards him.

A kiss was the last thing you were expecting, and you would have gasped if his lips weren’t putting you in such a trance. It was like everything had stopped, time stopped, the dance stopped, everything was just on a hiatus.

His tongue danced against yours in a way that made you whimper lowly into his touch. His hands explored your body, rubbing against you in exasperated motions as you reciprocated by rubbing your hands across his chest, shoulders, and waist. It was like you were both doing the last thing you’d do before the world came to an end.

His lips moved feverishly across your own as tilted your head upwards to get a more comfortable position. A warm yet equally rough hand snaked it’s way back onto your neck and gripped your throat with such possession, you felt a tingle reach your lower half.

The intensity of the make out was one that put every other sound to shame as the room was filled with nothing but the small whimpers coming from either of you and the sound of your lips smacking against his. It was like a dream, and Bakugou couldn’t control himself any longer as he groaned into your touch.

It wasn’t until a gasp broke the seductive silence within the room, as well as pushed the two of you apart only to see his girlfriend staring at the two of you with wide eyes and a fizzy drink in both of her hands., that you realized something.

Shit just got really fucking complicated.

—

back to masterlist

I wanna have an angsty kiss moment with bakugou

>:( damnit anyways yeah like, reblog, comment, follow! thanks for reading! don’t forget to send some requests in <3

- heilly

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liquorisce · 4 years ago

Text

i’ll leave my heart in your hands

ao3

rating: m (some sexy stuff under the cut)

summary: The longer he stays, the harder it is for Sasuke to leave. (sasusaku, sasuke-centric, baby sarada)

// "... If it were still a couple of years ago, she would have insisted that she comes along.But things have changed for them now, and even though Sakura is the same woman with enough determination to follow him and demand to stay by his side... they now have Sarada to consider. "//

A/N: i just wanted to write sasuke being emo about leaving his wife and child. happy valentine's y'all :)

He feels it when Naruto shows up at his door, blue eyes sombre, telling him that Kakashi needed to see him.

"... I need to watch Sarada," he states, trying to ignore the dread that uncoils in his stomach, "... Sakura's shift doesn't end for the next two hours."

"Sasuke," Naruto murmurs, "... I don't think this can wait." His blue eyes linger on Sarada, where she sits on the floor, trying to assemble a tower of blocks taller than her. "... I'll take care of her while you talk to Sensei," he murmurs as he walks past him to say hello to the little girl.

"Sarada-chan," he says, distracting her with his big grin, "... Shall we go play with Boruto-kun for a while?"

She scrunches up her nose. "... Boruto never shares his toys with me," she begins to complain, as Naruto laughs good-naturedly. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he does," -

Sasuke tunes out the banter behind him as he leaves towards the Hokage office. Despite Naruto's urgency he doesn't rush, he walks at his own pace, taking in the sleepy streets that he's gotten used to over the last two years, because something in the way Naruto spoke makes him suspect he might not be seeing them much longer.

"... You said you needed to see me," he states, opening the door to Kakashi's office without knocking, ignoring Shikamaru's annoyance at being interrupted.

"... Ah sorry, Shikamaru, do you mind if I speak to Sasuke privately?"

...

He finds Naruto waiting for him outside when he is finished with Kakashi.

"Hinata's making dinner for the kids," he says, hands in his pockets, blue eyes looking at Sasuke anxiously. "How'd it go with Sensei?"

"You clearly know about the mission already, so why bother asking?"

Naruto winces at the sharpness in Sasuke's tone. "... Sasuke," -

"The leads we've been following up on have some truth to them, after all. The Otsutsuki will be back, it's just a matter of time."

"When do you need to leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

The silence hangs heavy in the air, and Sasuke, unlike Naruto, doesn't care to interrupt it.

"It doesn't just have to be you alone, you know," he's speaking fast, and Sasuke knows him well enough to hear the guilt in his voice, "I can pick up from where you've left off in a couple of months, you don't need to," -

"And? You intend on traveling through dimensions to find these monsters, as long as I pass you the leads I get?" Sasuke looks at him point blank, "... Is this a new power you've acquired in recent months while you were playing Daddy to your son?"

When Naruto doesn't say anything, he continues, "And sure, I guess I can just press a button whenever I want to come to Konoha and pass on the baton to you. Sounds like a good plan."

The sarcasm in Sasuke's tone is biting, and Naruto doesn't blame him. But regardless, he mumbles, "... But you can tell Sensei, it's not fair to you... Sarada-chan is so small, and this kind of mission... I don't - You don't know how long it will take!"

"You think I don't know that?" Sasuke snaps, "... Some of us don't have the luxury of being asked to stay in the village for 'Hokage-training'," -

"That's not fair," Naruto flares, angrily.

"... I'm a shinobi. And I said would protect this village. I don't intend to go back on my word."

They arrive at Naruto's house and as Hinata goes to get Sarada, Sasuke murmurs, "... Protect them with your life. Promise me."

"Of course!" Naruto says immediately, "... But Sakura-chan's going to get mad if she hears you saying she needs protection..." He laughs, "She's scary, you know?"

"... My wife is perfectly capable of getting through any situation," Sasuke says simply, as he sees Sarada waddling to the door, her grin large and gleeful (just like her mother's) having grabbed one of the cookies that Hinata baked for her, "... But she shouldn't have to be in those situations in the first place."

...

Sakura returns home, tired after a 12-hour turned 14- hour shift, to find her daughter passed out on her husband's stomach on the couch. "... Sorry, I'm late," she whispers, not wanting to wake Sarada, and dropping a brief kiss on his head. She can sense that Sasuke is awake, despite his lack of a response, but that isn't really out of character, so she proceeds to the bedroom to get changed and take a shower.

Flushed from the hot shower with nothing but a towel around her body, she steps into the bedroom towards her closet only to trip over a small bag. Curiously, she picks it up and looks inside. The contents make her heart lurch.

Spare clothing, scrolls, essentials. Sasuke always packs light.

Before she can confront her racing thoughts, she senses Sasuke's presence right behind her. When she turns to him, she finds herself flush against his chest.

His eyes are unreadable (they usually are) in the dimly lit bedroom, and when he dips lower to catch her lips in a soft kiss, she welcomes the distraction. But when he deepens the kiss - a nip on her lower lip for permission, always, always so polite - she murmurs, "… You're leaving."

He doesn't answer, and she didn't really ask him a question, but she feels him sigh against her lips. "… When?"

"… Tomorrow morning," he murmurs, fingers tracing the tops of her turkey towel, his touch featherlight against her flushed skin.

She looks at him with questions in her eyes, Where will you go, Sasuke-kun? How dangerous is it going to be? How long will you be gone? Why do you have to be the one to go?

Of course, she'd want to know what it was about. Of course, mission details are meant to be classified... Especially something of this magnitude. Of course, he wanted to tell her anyway.

"... Sasuke-kun..."

He sighs. "... It's more of the same, Sakura. What we faced in the War - it isn't over yet." But she knew that already.

And if it were still a couple of years ago, she would have insisted that she comes along.

But things have changed for them now, and even though Sakura was the same woman with enough determination to follow him and demand to stay by his side... they now have Sarada to consider.

So, she doesn't ask her questions out loud. Instead, she states her assumptions. And if her voice quivers, she does her best to hide it. "... So, I guess you don't know how long you'll be gone?"

Sasuke doesn't say anything, and she didn't think he would anyway, so she continues, "... And this mission is dangerous and difficult enough that Kakashi Sensei specifically asked you?" She inhales, "Even though, it's peace time and half of our Shinobi force is in need of a job..."

"... I don't have answers for you, Sakura." And he really wishes he did, because he knows he'll leave and face whatever it is he'll need to face, but she'll be here, with no assurance, and only worry to keep her company.

She plops on to the bed, and her face betrays her dejection, her soft features crumpling. "... I guess I was getting kind of spoilt, huh?" She smiles, bleak, "... Having you by my side for so long, now... It got me believing this would actually be our life."

It's a simple thing that she utters, but it shakes him, because the lone avenger, the solo agent that he used to be, is no more. He hasn't been without her for the last 3 years almost, and he's begun to take her presence for granted.

He sees the tear rolling down her face, and he's by her side, cupping her face and wiping it away before the next one forms, cursing to himself because he has come to loathe that expression on her face, and loathes himself even more for somehow always managing to cause it.

"... If you don't want me to go, then you can say it." The words are out of his mouth, barely a soft whisper, before he realizes it. It's a small plea (without real consequence), and it makes him realize how much he wants her to say it, like the times she has tried to stop him leaving in the past, only this is probably the first time he would actually stay for her.

She laughs, through her tears. "Of course, I don't want you to go, Sasuke-kun." Her fingers twine into his, "... But I can't stop you," - and even though Sasuke winces at the sentiment behind that statement, he knows Sakura isn't referring to the past at all - "... I know this is to protect us. To protect Konoha. To do your duty. And I have no right," -

He kisses her before she can finish her sentence. In part, because he just wants to hold her close to him, and also because he doesn't want to hear her say that she doesn't have the right to ask him for anything. "... You're my wife," he reminds her, a soft murmur on her lips, "It's your right to demand more of me."

And in that moment the irrational part of him reminded him that it wasn't impossible - she could ask him to stay and he would… other ninjas did it. They prioritized their families, and he could too.

But Sakura's love wasn't demanding, it was giving, and that's all she'd ever asked him for, to be able to give him her love, to stand by his side, to make him happy.

And she knows the vows he's made in his heart, and that he will honour it, no matter the moments of weakness that pass by him.

So she kisses him back, winding her hands into his dark, unruly hair and pressing herself closer to him. "... Sarada and I will wait for you, Sasuke-kun.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, apologizing again, a multitude of apologies in two words, that only Sakura can understand and accept, kissing her fervently.

He hadn't intended to take her to bed that night, she is tired from work, and he has to leave early, but he finds himself hooking his fingers into her towel and unwrapping her body to him. Sakura's fingers ease him out his shirt first, and his trousers second, and when he lays her on the bed beneath him, and sinks into her embrace, the feeling of her bare body pressed against him burns against his skin, imprinting itself into his mind.

He kisses all the little parts of her body, the nooks, and curves that he's grown to love, the little pieces that make up Haruno Uchiha Sakura. He takes his time with her, pretending in that moment that they do have time, all the time in the world, for him to taste the different ways her body tells him she's excited, for her to respond enthusiastically, dipping low and using her mouth to please him.

He makes love to his wife tenderly, achingly slow and filled with passion, until he is rewarded by the sight of her under him, lost to her pleasure, spent and sobbing his name.

In the moments after when he's catching his breath, the scent of sweat and sex surrounding them, Sakura has a sated smile on her face and whispers that she loves him, so very much.

She says it happily, and he's grateful for it because he knows how many times he's heard her say it with pain in her voice, begging and pleading to him to stay with her, and he'd promised himself a long time ago that she'd never sound like that ever again.

He wants to say it back, but pretty words don't come as easy to him as it does to Sakura, so the words catch in his throat, constrained by all these feelings that take over him, without warning.

He'd known he would miss her terribly since the moment Kakashi told him there was "a mission", but it suddenly hits him that he isn't going to hear her i-love-yous or feel her warm hugs, or her sasuke-kuns and anatas thrown at him whenever she feels like it, whenever she wants to show her love. He wouldn't hear her voice for days and months, and maybe even years, and the loneliness grips him instantly, before he even leaves her.

And because he's reminded that she's still right next to him (by her fingers intertwined softly with his), he kisses her again, but this time greedily. He wants to take the feeling of her, the sweet pressure of her against him, her taste and her smell, along with him to keep him company. He spreads her legs for him before she can catch her breath, his fingers stroke up and down her folds, only to find her wet and sticky with his own release from a moment ago.

Sasuke doesn't care for it, and Sakura doesn't protest (she likes it when he demands so much from her) and slips into her, groaning from the heat, from the tight pressure, the blissful feeling of being inside of her. He fucks her this time, hard and unrelenting, lifting her legs onto his shoulder and angling himself as deep as he can possibly get. And when that isn't enough for him, he flips her over, onto her knees, taking the smallest second to appreciate the sight in front of him before thrusting into her.

There's a desperation with which he takes her this time, she recognises it and she wants to soothe him, whisper into his mouth that it'll be okay, but right now her mind is blank, and the only thing that spills from her lips are mindless noises urging him to fuck her harder.

"I want to hear you," he murmurs roughly, as he pauses his punishing pace, breath warm against the back of her neck. He doesn't really know what he wants to hear, but Sakura knows what he likes, so she doesn't bother restraining herself any longer, and when he drives into her and makes her lose her mind with feeling, she tells him how good he feels, buried inside her, gasping. And after she's come twice and told him how sensitive she is, he squeezes her breast roughly from behind and mumbles, "… I'm gonna come." And she coaxes it out of him, moving her hips back to meet his thrusts, cooing his name, begging him to come inside her, and fill her up, until he does.

"... I love you," he pants harshly against her skin, thankful that the words have been pulled out of him, because he needs her to hear them. Because he doesn't want to leave her with any doubt of that, unlike every time he has left her in the past.

This time he wants to leave her with the promise that he will be back… that even while he is away he will think of her, and dream of her, and love her.

...

In the morning, he wakes up Sarada even though it's too early for her, because he wants to say goodbye.

But she's barely two years old, and doesn't really comprehend it when Sakura tells her, "Sarada-chan, Papa will be going away for a while.

She falls asleep in Sakura's arms after blinking up at him and saying "Come back soon, Papa," and because Sasuke isn't much of a talker and doesn't really know what to say to her, he just smiles softly at the sight of his daughter sleeping in her mother's arms.

Sakura walks him to the central gates as he gets ready to leave.

He clears his throat. "... If she asks about me" -

"Not if, Sasuke-kun, of course she will ask about you, you're her Papa" -

"... Tell her the good things, Sakura."

Sakura looks at him, green eyes honestly surprised to hear this from him. He doesn't know what these good things are, to be honest, but Sakura has never had trouble seeing them, so he wants selfishly, for his daughter to hear nothing else about him.

There will be a time for truth and Sasuke hopes that he will be back home for that, for Sarada to hear everything from him.

"Sasuke-kun, why are you behaving like the world is going to end?" She teases, "You're just going on a mission. I know you'll be back soon."

Sighing, he realizes he might as well go along with Sakura's attempt to keep this lighthearted. Her green eyes are steely and resolute, and so full of love, he is reminded that she really is the braver of the two of them... and always has been.

In any case, they'd discussed this already last night, and reality will soon be along to remind them of their distance. "You're right, just a casual mission where I beat up the Otsutsuki mob, and come back in time for dinner, I guess." His lips quirk up into a smile, as he pulls closer to tap her forehead. "See you soon then, Sakura."

And as he turns to leave, he commits the sight of his wife to memory, faint blush on her cheeks, smiling eyes, and their sleeping daughter nestled in her strong, loving arms.

- fin -

A/N: i've seen a lot in this fandom, read a lot of fanfic and metas and opinions that think Sasuke showing emotions is OOC. imho, pretty much all of naruto was about sasuke being an emo brat and showing his emotions quite blatantly. i think older sasuke is definitely more controlled, but i still think emotions are the core of Sasuke's character. He is a gorgeous, emotional guy who is crazy about his partner and his family, and also emotionally attached to his ideals and his vows. So if you made it this far, did you think Sasuke was OOC in this fic? I personally don't, but let me know what you think! :)

#sasusaku #uchiha sasuke #uchiha sakura #uchiha sarada #liquorisce fanfiction #naruto

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emy-loves-you · 4 years ago

Text

Perfection Isn’t Perfect

So, as some people know, I lost a bet to @imthebadguythatsfine and my punishment was to write 3K words of whatever they wished. My prompt was: cutesy anaroceit date! It was originally supposed to be something completely different, but plot came and slapped me in the face. So here we are!

Summary: Roman, Janus and Virgil were planning on having a fancy date, but it was canceled due to bad weather. Roman will not stand for it, and assures his loves that they don’t need fancy clothes and nice makeup to have a good date night. Anaroceit with nonbinary!Virgil, genderfluid!Roman, and background QPR Intrulogicality

Warnings: Implied Sex (Remus), language

Words: 3,333

Masterlist

Virgil sighed as they scrubbed the makeup off of their face. Another date night lost to bad weather. Just their luck. They looked up at the corner of their mirror, smiling sadly at the two pictures taped there. The first one showed Roman up on a stage, her pink pronoun bracelet proudly on display, giggling as she spun in circles. The other photo showed Janus at the zoo, holding an intense staring contest with a python (Virgil had actually recorded that entire experience, mainly because it took their boyfriend a full 2 minutes to remember that snakes didn’t blink).

Virgil loved their partners with all of their heart. They had all met in high school, each one from a different social group. Roman, the theatre nerd. Janus, the popular kid. Virgil, the resident bad boy and social outcast. None of them would’ve met if it hadn’t been for Roman’s twin brother, Remus. Remus had quickly attached himself to Janus and Virgil, and introduced them to Roman a few months later. The rest, as they say, was history.

Virgil shook their head, focusing back on their makeup. They’ve been dating Roman and Janus for a few years now, but it was nearly impossible to spend time with both of them. Roman was always auditioning for some play, hoping to rack up enough credit to reach Broadway. Janus was still in college, trying to fulfill his dreams of becoming a lawyer. And Virgil didn’t know what to do with their life. They were currently a manager at the local supermarket while commissioning artwork on the side. Virgil was the only one with a predictable schedule, and even then they were constantly busy. They could usually score a lunch date with either Roman or Janus, but the third was almost always busy. Today was supposed to be their first three-person date in over a month. Virgil sighed. They were looking forward to seeing their partners face-to-face. They would just have to settle for video chats and texts.

Virgil sighed as they continued to wipe off their makeup. Janus and Roman always looked like they were runway models, especially during dates. Virgil would spend hours on their makeup and hair so they didn’t look homeless in comparison. It was kind of daunting, actually. Their partners always looked perfect, with perfect makeup and unwrinkled clothes. Virgil would probably die of embarrassment if their partners saw the way they look at home, wearing only a baggy hoodie and some sweatpants, their hair tied up in a messy bun.

“VIRGEY! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Virgil screamed, jumping as they threw their makeup wipes at the bathroom door where the sound was originating. A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal Remus standing there, soaking wet. Remus grinned. “Pack your pajamas and toothbrush, we’re having a sleepover!”

Virgil blinked slowly, staring at their best friend. “What?”

Remus started bouncing slightly as he grabbed Virgil’s hand. “C’mon! You need to get out of this stuffy apartment. I’ve got food and games and movies!” He smirked. “So grab your sexiest pjs and come on!”

Virgil blushed before sighing. “Alright, geez. Just let me get this makeup off first.” Remus sometimes crashed at their place for ‘sleepovers,’ but this would be the first time that Virgil stayed at his place. But Remus was right, Virgil did need to get out of their apartment and stop focusing on their ruined date.

Remus giggled. “Alrighty then! I’ll be downstairs.”

Ten minutes later, Virgil stood in their living room, backpack hung loosely around their shoulders. They were still bummed that they didn’t get to go on their date, but at least they could spend some time with Remus. “Let’s go.”

“Alrighty, then! Get ready to get wet!”

“Why am I getting- oh.” Virgil stared at their now open apartment door, rain pouring so quickly that they could barely see a few feet in front of their face. Virgil sighed. It’s not like anyone’s gonna see me like this. With that, Virgil marched out into the rain, shuddering as the initial chill soaked through them. Virgil quickly locked the door before sprinting towards Remus’ car, not stopping until they were safely in the backseat. Remus followed a few seconds later, and Virgil snorted as they saw the air freshener hanging on the mirror. It had the outline of a deer with the words Oh Deer in the middle. Virgil snorted. “Did Patton get you that?”

Remus’ grin softened as he looked up at the air freshener. “And what if he did? I’m allowed to get gifts from my squishes!”

Virgil laughed. “Yeah, but it’s an air freshener.”

Remus huffed. “I recognize that some people might not appreciate my natural scent, but that does not mean you should ridicule me, Emo!”

Virgil chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get out of here, trash rat.”

Remus laughed as he turned on the car. “Why are you in the backseat?”

Virgil raised their eyebrow. “Because last time I sat in the passenger seat, there was a squirrel in your glovebox.”

“First of all, I did not know about the squirrel. Second of all, that was one time!”

“Yeah, one time too many!” They both chuckled at that, before the car descended into a comfortable silence. A few minutes later, they arrived in front of a house. Virgil started to unbuckle before they realized something. “Remus, this isn’t your house.”

“Uh-huh.” Remus responded, staring at his phone.

“...Then why are we here?”

“You’ll see.”

Virgil huffed, leaning back in their seat. They scrolled through tumblr for a few minutes before the car door opened, someone climbing into the passenger seat with their umbrella and bag. “Sorry, I couldn’t find my face… masks…”

Virgil locked eyes with Janus, feeling their cheeks heat up. Janus was still wearing a fancy yellow button-up shirt and some black slacks, but his hair was ruffled and his makeup was gone. Virgil turned to look at Remus, who was silently giggling at the scene. “You said this was just the two of us.”

Remus chuckled. “I said no such thing! I just implied it!” He turned the car back on and drove away, humming a merry tune he’d heard from Patton while ignoring the tense silence around him.

Virgil could barely stop themself from openly staring at Janus. They’d never seen Janus so… casual. Janus was always dressed to perfection, his perfect makeup and hair only topped by Roman (Roman was the only person Virgil knew to carry both a makeup back and hairspray at all times). It was odd to see Janus without his perfect hair and makeup. A good odd, but still odd nonetheless.

Just as Virgil was contemplating breaking the silence, Remus pulled up to another house. This time it was Janus who pointed out the obvious. “Remus, this isn’t your house.”

Remus giggled. “I never said you were staying at my house. Now come on!”

Remus immediately ran inside, ignoring the rain around him. Janus opened his door and immediately opened his umbrella, then stood there silently. Virgil wondered what he was doing as they got out of the car, until Janus moved to cover both of them with the umbrella. “I assumed you didn’t bring your own.” His tone was slightly teasing, and Virgil was relieved that they might get through this night with minimal awkwardness. “Come now, no need to keep Remus waiting.”

Virgil surveyed the house they were in. Cardboard boxes lined the walls, each one labeled for a different part of the house. They heard laughing from further in the house and followed it, Janus trailing quietly behind them. They reached the kitchen and saw Remus giggling on a barstool, watching as someone whistled and danced as they put something into the oven. His blue pronoun bracelet was a sharp contrast to his bright red pajamas with gold crowns. His hair was sticking up in every direction, and when he turned around Virgil noted that he had no makeup on. But it was still impossible to not recognize him. “Roman?”

Roman chuckled sheepishly. “Surprise?” He gestured to the house. “I was gonna tell you on our date tonight, but that didn’t really happen, so…” Roman clapped his hands (Virgil fondly noted years ago that he only did that when he rambled and needed to get back on topic). “Yeah! This is my new house! I was gonna tell you all about it in person but there was rain so I decided to show you instead!” He made cute little jazz hands. “Tada!”

Virgil blinked in shock while Janus spoke up. “Roman, Darling, I understand why you wanted to show us your home, but why did you have Remus bring us? And why be so secretive about this?”

Roman rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Well, after our date got cancelled, I was talking with Remus-”

“More like bemoaning”

“Talking about how I wish we could have a date without one of us being absent or the weather ruining everything, and Remus asked why we couldn’t just have the date here? And that’s when I realized something.” Roman started gesturing as he spoke. “All of our dates are so ridiculously formal! Other than texts and video calls, when was the last time we spent time together without fancy makeup or perfect hair? I can’t even remember!” He gestured around the mostly-empty kitchen. “So I’ve prepared a perfect date, set with no expectations whatsoever!”

Now it was Virgil’s turn to speak up. “Date?”

Roman smiled softly. “Now, no need to fret. I can hear the wheels turning in your head, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance.” Virgil blushed at the nickname. “The point of this is to spend time together without any stress of trying to look and act perfect. If we can’t have a nice time like this,” he gestured to his pajamas “then how are we gonna have a happy life together?”

Before Virgil or Janus could even try to respond, Remus spoke up. “Well, if you no longer need your bestest twin ever to be your uber driver…”

Roman chuckled. “Go hang out with your squishes. I know you’ve been dying to see them all day.”

“Damn right I have!” Remus quickly made his way out of the kitchen, waving to Janus and Virgil. “Bye Janny! Bye V! Have fun and use a condom!”

“Tell Pat and Specks we said hi! And tell Specks that he still owes me a jar of Crofters!” Roman called out as Remus left, smiling at the laugh he got in return. He then turned back to Virgil and Janus. “So! I have a pizza in the oven and various junk foods throughout the kitchen. I’ve set up some MarioKart and Disney+ in the living room, and I have some moisturizers and nail polish if you’re up for it!”

Janus said something, but Virgil didn’t hear it, their thoughts running wild for a moment. They didn’t even realize that their partners were trying to get their attention until they felt a hand on their shoulder. They saw Janus’ hand, but it was Roman who was in Virgil’s direct field of vision. Roman gave them a curious look, and Virgil let out a shaky breath. “Sorry, I’m still adjusting to this. I just went from a random hangout with Remus, to a potentially awkward hangout with Remus and Janus, to knowing that I’m now on a date with both of my partners without any way to even try and look nice.”

Roman smiled softly. “That’s why I had Remus bring you two under the guise of a sleepover. I didn’t want you to panic and try to force yourself to be formal and make yourself uncomfortable.” His face then became serious. “However, I understand if this was too sudden. If you want, I can drive you home now. Or you can take up the guest bedroom and have the night to yourself. We would never judge you for something like that.”

Virgil shook their head. “No, I want to do this. It just… hit me all at once, I guess.” They felt their cheeks get warm with embarrassment.

Roman chuckled. “No need to feel embarrassed, Panic at the Everywhere.” He then held out his hand. “Now, onward to video games and Disney movies!”

Virgil giggled as they grabbed Roman’s hand, holding their other hand out for Janus to take. Roman let them to the living room, which was almost completely bare. “When did you move in here, Roman?”

“A few days ago. I wasn’t planning on decorating before showing it off, but we don’t need Disney posters to have a good date!” He pushed a controller into Virgil’s hands. “Here, pick your character. You too, Jack the Fibber.”

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

“Out of my way, Janus!”

“Sorry Darling, but first place is mine.”

Virgil smirked as they heard their partners bickering. “Eat shell, bitches.” Two red shells shot out, hitting their mark.

“Aggh, Virgil! Love of my life, why do you do this to me!”

Virgil giggled at Roman’s dramatics, but was suspicious when Janus remained silent. Just as they were a few seconds from winning, Virgil felt a hand gently grip their chin and tilt their head-

Virgil felt lips on theirs and groaned into the kiss, not realizing their mistake until they heard the sound of someone crossing the finish line. They quickly looked back at the screen and saw their character stuck on a wall in 5th place. They quickly finished their race before turning back to Janus, who was now smirking. “You little shit!”

Janus laughed. “You wouldn’t let me be in first, so I returned the favor.”

Virgil gestured over to Roman, who was dancing on the other end of the living room. “You let Roman win! That’s not fair!”

Janus kissed them again, a teasing smirk on their lips. “All’s fair in love and war, Love.”

Virgil grumbled as their cheeks grew warm from the kiss. “Shouldn’t the pizza be done by now?”

Roman gasped as he ran to the kitchen. “THE PIZZA!”

Virgil laughed as their boyfriend attempted to save the pizza. “Why didn’t you set a timer?”

“Well EXCUSE ME for being so utterly distracted by my beautiful partners!”

Virgil laughed, until they felt a hand cupping their cheek. They turned to face Janus, who gave them a fond smile. “He’s right, you know.” He slowly began to trace Virgil’s cheekbone with his thumb. “You are quite beautiful, with and without the winged eyeliner.”

Virgil snorted. “Says you. You and Roman are always beautiful.”

“And the two of you have beauty that rivals the divine!” Roman yelled, coming back with a plate of misshapen pizza slices. “A small portion was charred, so I had to cut it out before I could cut the slices, but it’s still good!” Roman quickly put the plate down before running back to the kitchen. “I’m gonna go get some drink, go ahead and start without me. Bon Appétit!”

Virgil cautiously grabbed a slice, and watched as Janus did the same. They quickly took a bite and watched as Janus took a bite so small that they wouldn’t have known it was there unless they saw Janus take the bite. They snorted, and explained when they saw Janus’ curious stare. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you eat without silverware, and you ate that the exact way I thought you would.”

Janus gave Virgil a small smile. “Well, I typically don’t eat finger-food, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Take what as a compliment?” Janus and Virgil turned to see Roman coming back with three cans of soda.

“Virgil had found my eating habits amusing.” Janus set snootily, but the amusement in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Eating habits?” Roman asked as he grabbed two slices of pizza.

“Yeah, he always takes the world’s smallest bites, no matter what he’s… eating.” Virgil was now staring at Roman, who had taken a bite of his newly made pizza-sandwhich, with a cheesy inside and a crust-coated outside.

Roman noticed that he was being stared at and became confused. “Yes?”

Virgil continued to stare at the pizzas. “...You know how some people have things that could make or break a relationship?” They gestured to the pizza. “Thi-this is it.”

Roman snorted. “My Knight in Shining Armor, are you seriously willing to abandon me over my pizza eating habits?”

Janus gave Virgil a bewildered look. “And haven’t you seen Remus eat pizza? He eats it the exact same way.”

Virgil huffed. “Well I’ve learned from personal experience to not look anywhere in Remus’ general direction while he’s eating.”

Roman laughed, leaning over Janus’ lap to cup Virgil’s cheek with his hand. “You still love me though, right?”

Virgil pretended to think about it for a moment. “Hmm, I don’t know… I think I need a little persuasion.”

Roman chuckled, and soon Virgil’s personal space was filled with nothing but Roman. His mouth on Virgil’s, one hand in their hair, the other rubbing small circles into their collarbone-

“Ahem.” Virgil and Roman parted to look at Janus, who appeared more flustered than annoyed. Virgil could sympathize, having sat between Roman and Janus during a make-out scene before.

Roman smirked. “Aw, are you jealous, Love?” He looked Virgil in the eye and they nodded before they both leaned over to press a kiss to the corners of Janus’ mouth. They continued to kiss their respective halves of Janus’ face until it was redder than a tomato. Virgil pulled back and matched Virgil’s smirk as they watched their blushing boyfriend attempt to form words.

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

“...There! Now we just have to let it set for 20 minutes.”

Virgil groaned as they resisted the urge to touch the face mask. “How can you do this every night? I’m already wanting to scratch my nose.”

Janus smirked. “Practice, and the desire to have a good self-care routine.” He glanced down to Virgil’s hands. “Your nails are drying nicely.”

Virgil glanced down at their nails, the various black and purple patterns complimenting each other nicely. “Yeah, they are. I think they’re dry too.”

“Well then, would you like a distraction from wanting to touch your face?” Virgil turned to look at Roman, who was plugging in a speaker. They watched as Roman connected his phone to the speaker, and a soft tune floated through the air. It took Virgil a moment to recognize the tune.

Virgil snorted. “Sleeping Beauty? Seriously, Princey?”

Roman gasped in mock offense. “Hey, it’s a lovely song!” He held out his hand. “Now, care to dance?”

Virgil sighed before grabbing Roman’s hand, allowing him to pull them up into a standing position. Roman immediately shifted to a leading position, and Virgil let themself be guided through the dance. Dancing with Roman felt like walking on clouds, every step of uncertainty matched by Roman’s confident movements.

After around a minute of dancing, Roman spun Virgil away. Virgil moved with the motion, expecting to be pulled back into Roman’s embrace. They let out a small squeak when instead they were gently tugged into Janus’ hold. Dancing with Janus felt like they were a snake and Janus the snakecharmer, Virgil instinctively yet shakily following every move in tandem with Janus.

Janus eventually spun Virgil towards the couch in a loose hold, and Virgil let themselves spin across the room and land on the couch. They watched as Roman quickly took Virgil’s spot, following Janus’ lead. It was exhilarating to watch Roman and Janus dance. Every movement was filled to the brim with passion. You could tell with every heartfelt look and gentle touch how much they truly loved each other. And every second of watching reminded Virgil of how much they loved their partners with all of their heart.

Roman and Janus both reached out towards Virgil, their other hands locked together. Virgil smiled at the loves of their life before placing their hands in theirs, letting themself be pulled back into the music.

#sanders sides fic #anaroceit #qpr intrulogicality #nonbinary virgil #genderfluid roman #virgil sanders #roman sanders #Janus Sanders #remus sanders

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queenofallwitches · 3 years ago

Text

an update and primer:

so the last winter was weird. I had a complete breakdown, went into psychiatric hospital for 40 days in total. two seperate times.

learnt a heap of new things, met a tonne of cool people and had amazing conversations and few fights but overcome my own demons by that.

brain speaking-I have a scarred brain stem and neurological disorder is not a mental diagnosis, but a neurological disorder, proven by MRI scan, ADHD.

also damage to my basal ganglia, and prefrontal cortex.

neurological diagnosis means ADHD is not a "mental" health issue, as some believe, rather a neurodevelopment disorder caused by structural differences in the ADHD brain.

other neurodevelopment disorders include: Tourettes, Autism, Cerebal Palsy, Dyslexia and other Motor and Intellectual Disabilities. (Which recieve, in my view, a lot of insight, media information and stigma reduction by the advocacy networks surrounding these types of disability).

Over the last few years Autism has been over everything, I've seen mainstream media cover Tourettes and yet ADHD is still HUGELY misunderstood, misconceived and misrepresented in media, be in from the angle of documentaries, personal insight of a "typical" case, films, tv, and other media.

one of the first things my dr told me was "in females it rarely presents as hyperactive red-cordial OD child"

which is what my mother BELIEVES, that is because I have an adopted cousin with the ADHD dx who was that growing up, but the representation I'm told is also divergent for women with a higher IQ score than the average IQ. I come in around 142 and tested 123 at age 3 when I was unable to focus, pay attention and had severe trauma. I tested 142 in grade 8.

I'll share my experience as a female who is intellectually gifted, with higher IQ than average, and an adhd brain:

I've been told gifted and talented "genius" children are harder to diagnose because the symptoms present differently, we hide it better (camouflage) and our focusing can be "faked" by mediocre efforts of academic success.. this is true, I would do the assignment the Sunday night hours deadline, last minute, or have my parents half do it for me, plagiarise it (fuck I've killed my whole academic career now) copied but changed my words

from old 1970s encyclopaedias I KNEW they couldn't cross reference (I went through 15 years of school never studying doing homework or assignments and still had top grades).

I literally did not listen, and spent my classes planning the end of the world survival strategies with my GT friend who, basically helped me with my calculus and hard fucking maths, which was the ONLY 50 minutes of the day I put attention into my work.

now I'm going to be heading back to full-time study in the coming months, I get anxious as the pressure of a Bachelor level degree, and the pressure it takes me to perform, is enough to break me down. I've been advised it might be wise to start light (like a basic vet style diploma) and then build up, which is logical, but I keep thinking I'm meant to be doing my thesis by now. which is the kind of pressure one gets as a kid who is told repeatedly, "your intelligence is exceedingly the average and you can do ANYTHING you want"

I wanted to be an astronaut, a storm chaser, and an architect, a town planner and then a journalist. I always held to being a "FBI agent" or spy (I wonder why). so when I found psychology is really a blend of all these things, I kinda found a niche in a psych and social science double degree. but I'm thinking my academic career is LIFELONG, and due to the fact I also want to work in my field alongside my many written thesis coming, I'll be in academics for a long time. I may fail a few things, which I have to come to terms with. I do not fail easily, or readily, but I'm a perfectionist type-a academic who will put my whole life on the line to achieve "merit". I get exams, I get assessments, I read journals super-easy, I talk the talk and walk the walk so well psychologists who are at masters level compliment me on my "knowledge".

when it comes to mental health and trauma, I will always have the personal attachment, called lived experience, which will make failure and burnout, 100 percent realistic. I have to boundary up, bootstraps on, and prepare that yes, my personal "bias" will probably be entwined in this.

which is why I'm looking at the social science for the statistics and thesis writing side of things, and the counselling for the trained therapist side. either way, the degree of counselling requires so much self-insight, and then the social-science will back me away from personifying it. the other choice is criminology, which leads to forensic psychology, which is eternally fascinating. my main concern is the pro-pedophile content Ill be up against, which will look at the anatomy of a shoplifter akin to the devil, and leave the pedophile in the DSM-5 dx "paraphilia" box.

I'm not joining or jumping to anything.

either way I've got 2 year of credit, a heap of pathways and a lot of "academic momentum" from all my life being aimed to be "academic powerhouse". I went through my files and found a lot of awards I'd won in my high school, and top place in the competitions we would be entering in. I remember feeling so sad if I had a "credit" vs a distinction or high distinction, only to see now, a credit in university maths in year 9 is a skillset I don't have anymore so, good on me. or a credit in English, or Science at that age was pretty impressive, considering these tests were random and not studied for.

just a general skills assessment only the top 30 kids in the year were to take on a year by year basis and put out to vet from the top universities and taken by other kids in the same grade around the state.

it puts so much focus on my intelligence, because it's primed to be that way, I know that is true. I know I feel good being academically successful and it gives me a feeling of "achievement" but is it really for me?

I also found 2 letters from my local politicians offering me job placement, work experience and I was 1/4 kids in my 10th grade graduation tom get the letter, and due to my behaviour I pissed ALL the idiots who bullied me off. I was "too pretty to be a nerd" "too smart to be pOpUlAr".

so I made a group of misfits, who are all highly intelligent, creative and my group had the ONLY gay male in the school AND THIS IS BEFORE YOU FUCKING RETARDS MADE IT "COOL". he was bullied badly, so fuck you, you fucks claim "liberalism" but I bet you were the type of idiot who bullied guys like him in high school while you pretended to like my chemical romance and fake cut yourselves. I hate you all, forever.

my grade was full of idiots who were fake emo, who left the scene the moment the scene changed to dub-step and club music. I was there, watching you all, like sonny Moore, went from FFTL to that dubstep skrillex shit he started in 2009.

I dated you, hooked up with you and I went to your gigs. I know who was real and who was fake. I met some of you years later and realised the more emotive ones were the less "alternative appearing".

I can say 1/10000 emo guys from the 00s were genuinely Into the music and scene for the right reasons based on my dating history and this can and will be analysed statistically using SPSS one day to prove a lot. I've had too many relationships from each sub-culture and I have had 4-11 males at a time per public "output" of my energy pursue me over life.

I'm not being cocky when I say I have a long line of "suitors" and its banked back about 50 men. it's been a thing I've avoided as it seems to grow based on my body shape, attitude, appearance, so I am currently out of touch with dating scenes, no interest to try that ANYWAY, given the fact that I have had so many LONG TERM relationships ANYWAY. I can't see another one going well, and at this case, I'm living with an ex but we never went on conventional and now our families label this 3 things: "asexual", "polyamorous" and "open relationship". I'm also "bisexual" but this all to humans outside, looks ridiculous on paper. (wild orgies and lots of swinging or some stupid sex magick probably is what J brother literally thinks we do).

bc humans are intrinsically designed to need to label things they don't understand. we share a lease, not a relationship, and fucking polyamorous, I WISH. there are no girl-girl-guy 3 some, or orgies, or sex magic parties.

this has changed the attitude and perception of this "relation' which Is non-romantic, non-sexual. he can date and likely, will, as can I , and I likely won't date.

I would say 14/15 have had ADHD, or other mental illness and or trauma. which means to me, nothing at all.

I think this "open book" non romantic relationship style of "friends and roommates" not sexual.

attachment is misunderstood by others but works well fro my adhd, meaning I'm not expected to marry, or be a wife in any capacity. he is free to do what he wants, as I am, and open communication is a novel frontier I brought into this in the start, and stayed with for the duration. we fight, but I fight with a lot of people in my life over many petty things. also down to my adhd, I believe, I have rejection sensitive dysphoria, which makes me hypersensitive to rejection, perceived or real.

im not sure if this is trauma or adhd or both. but

I have used sexuality as a weapon in many relationships but it cannot or will not be used here, so I have had to resort to uncovering parts of myself which I never knew, which will stay with me even if he decided to marry and wife up in 5 years, which I'm okay and expecting him to do, and I would much rather that then be trapped in a situation where I cannot be that "wife/mother archetype" as I'm too "femme fatal/other-woman/sex-laced seductress and siren" a "FWB, unicorn, drug buddy, hook-up where im a therapist" or "intellectual and cognitive mind-bender work-study obsessed woman".

both at once and many types of human, including one who is a full-time ceremonial magician of 7 years. I will drink, drug, fuck, fight like males and still be more feminine and high maintenance than 89% of women. I grew up a tomboy and don't mind getting into fun, adventure based situations, like hiking, or anything adrenaline, I would only be reluctant to eat weird shit.

I also have many "neurological" issues including ADHD, and trauma which causes a rupture in the average human and I dating.

I'll tell you how many men have said "you are the unicorn" and then realised what that means, I went as far as canvasing the PUA world back in 2014 after reading the game, a book on PUA, which is essentially, pick up artistry, based on NLP and hypnosis. I did this after reading the copy my ex in 2008 handed me before we dated saying "I gave this up for you". it took me years to open the book, buy when I did I truly believed the only way I would fall in love again, was through PUA. that failed in so many ways but gave me a training foundation for men who were candidates for that, I have trained up J, and the way that sounds is BAD. I know, but I got a lot of value myself, I just don't see it how I wanted to see it.

but that was my original intent, and I achieved this he knows that, knew it was happening and evolved for the best self.

I am thinking we can modulate this into a business model for how I was operating in the BDSM world was mainly psychological, not physical.

I get told all of is incredibly intimidating (I am told) to women and men.

I don't really care anymore, because people have always seen this part of me in the wrong way ANYWAY, but I own who I am NOW. which is what I needed ANYWAY. so it cannot be stolen again, and sexual healing has come from abstinence ironically.

I also don't care what or who is trying to tear up my relations, toxic or not toxic, all people around me will be on a healing journey by default, or cut out of my life, for I am radiating that energy so brightly its impossible NOT to feel that pull.

I will drag your shadows into the light, and make your secrets spin from your lips into my consciousness. its not what I do but its what is design.

I make your weaknesses mountains to climb over. you cannot hide from these in my presence, I won't be this controlling or obsessive female who wants 24-7 attention as I have a life full of meaning without love or sex. I don't want to be wined, dined or expensively gifted, unless specially requested.

I don't want love letters or romantic declarations, this isn't some femnazi bullshit, but it triggers me. I appreciate the efforts and won't make you feel bad about your insecurities, for mine are probably 30 x more pronounced.

I appreciate small things, that most males won't or don't know how to do. like remembering things I've said and being thoughtful. or knowing my silence isn't personal, or a game, but a protective wall. I've had songs sung too me, guitars played, songs written, or things made in ways that are heartfelt. but I've always had them used against me too. so it is the context. I value time, energy, conversations of depth and reciprocal exchange. I also value trauma understanding, my alters and fragments being accepted and valued as me as a whole and a person who is not afraid, or scared of stupid stuff like sensitivity, emotions, feelings as raw as my own. men feel intensely too, lol.

but will only give oral sex 100 times before I don't recieve it, I can communicate now so that wouldn't happen.

but I won't be a bitch about this stuff. I am extremely feminine and care in ways other people, do not, I forget nothing people tell me, so it can be a reward or reverse uno card pull in a fight, but I am not evil or deviant in my relations. I react, depending on how you treat me. I don't need your money, or providing source of income to be okay as I am my own queen, however sharing resources is okay to build something. I don't need to be seduced, but will need to be shown a person is trustworthy.

few cross that.

that will always be time-endurance and testing. there are ground rules I don't play with, or play games. or like being forced or forged into something I'm not. I know abusive and I know safe, and I am a psychology expert, trained psychotherapist and study humans for fun, so I'll always be analysing things.

and I know red flags and I know ego, I know how to placate and please and pleasure, but will only do so, for a bigger and better reason than the mere act of seduction. which is without value and transactional to someone like me, I won't lie.

and I know every tactic in the book, for the book was written by someone like me, many lives ago, and my karma is being burnt for that book.

in terms of walls, I have many, may it be called a maze. or labrnyth.

I will teach you things you never thought you'd know, and change your life in ways you won't ever be able to go back to before. I will blow your mind, sexually, emotionally, intellectually, on all levels, and I'll make your friends and family love me.

I'll bring your walls down and you won't be able to understand this, because you don't understand me, and thats ok.

but I'll always understanding you and make your life better because thats what I do anyway, and people talk to me about things I will never share, as I keep secrets. I am jealous, of everything but, only because I am attached in a disorganised way, and working on that.(I won't even mention how man women or men don't know basic psychology of themselves). I also am a therapist , for my friends and family too.i should not be , but I am. I care, I listen, If you think I'm not listening, I'm still listening. sometimes I interrupt, because I have ADHD and I am horrible at resolute planning, or being "normal". but I don't want to be normal anyway. I need you to recognise and understand my shit, for that is what I do for everyone in my life, and I have helped more than I receive.

I'll probably accidentally give you therapy, but thats fine, because you will uncover your depths and find meaning in this. it's not something that goes bad unless you are fundamentally, evil, even the most abusive relationship I was in, was benefited from this process. yes he's still narcissistic, but he is self-aware. and did I benefit, never, just know the anatomy of self-proclaimed narc and I still can't hate him. will get my civil claim one day.

I will fuck your mind without meaning too. but thats because I fuck my own mind. but the meaning is made in the man- some find this highly offensive or personal (its not). I fuck minds by my own overthinking, or over perception on many levels of reality. so join the ride, or don't come along at all. because once the rollercoaster is in motion, I have no control of what may or may not happen. it's purely experimental.

I am experimental.

and the women who are judging me, are not any better.

look within, and shut the fuck up. self-improve and quit this jealous divide and conquer bitchiness. I HATE gossip, bitches, snitches and fakers.

I look to other women who are intellectually, physically and spiritually "individual". and find value in superior status to my own, which is something my narcissistic ex taught me.

I look for mentors, and teachers and people who will teach me how to improve myself, which I am fearful to reconnect after something is amazing and I can't give anything back of positive value. I am sorry I am working on that.

I won't devalue those below me, but I also need to be mutually benefiting from a relationship.

I dont drag people down, I may disappear if I feel I am doing this by mistake. I am flakey as fuck, and sorry for that. its anxiety and lack of perfectionism, so I am wrong and bad for this. I can change. will change.

if you can find value with my relation, personal professional or romantic, we can move into a symbiotic beneficial agreement based on mutual "terms". but many won't or cannot see this, nor do I impose my bullshit into the lives of randoms at this age.

I don't care if this is cruel, it's real.

I value loyalty, compassion, self-insight/awareness, someone who understands all parts-spirituality, metaphysics while still having intellectual & logical & analytical brain-sight.

I enjoy music, magick and learning new things.

I do not care about appearances I dont think ive dated based on one time. I do value connections and chemistry which is far-few between, I hate fakers. I smell insincerity miles away. but I do respect women who are well-presented, or beautiful, with hair beauty and makeup, I can't do this shit well, so I look up to those who are in professions who do it like art. I find them to be genius level queens who scare me.

I call out bad behaviour and make people uncomfortable if they are repressed. I will change you without even meaning too, I don't even need to date you. its just my presence, over time, amplified by the intensity of the dynamics.

I don't want simplicity, but I also don't need over complexity.

I value passion, independence, creativity, curiosity, problem-solving, deep-disscussions, shared adventures and some occasional risk-taking (lol), sensuality and sexuality for a common cause beyond physical pleasure. I like being taught but not micromanaged. I need my own independence, and need to be trusted with that. I hate being scolded for that like a child, or being pushed to change my ways to conform to societal values. which I will push back and refuse to do. which is not healthy. I don't adult like many others do, but I try to proceed in other ways. and learn to adult like normal people, accept me.

I also value myself, and how I can be celebrated, enhanced and improved vs. the opposite.

I give space, and have boundaries, and understand human psychology, sexuality and relationships in ways few others unless they are trained, can do.

I value MY time. so you can have space to value YOURS. I dont need to be in anyones pocket for a long time. I love being alone, and being around people who are stimulating, but draining people will be drained out of my life quicker than I intend. I am sorry for the people who felt I disappeared, when I was only trying to be 'fair', if I feel I'm a bad influence, I will work on myself until I'm not. I'm still working on it.

I also use this psychology awareness, to enhance communication, connection. you may or may not become an accidental guinea pig. I will be upfront that I am experimental, but that is part of the buy ticket and take the ride. lets work together. not apart.

I am coming from a place of love, and love is what I feel for my animals, which you will be adopting as children.which I want to stop experiments being done on. I love love, in all ways, but hate cruelty of animals and children, violence and suffering. I dont advocate justice, because I find life is fucking cruel, unfair and unjust. by default, so I focus on myself. what can be changed, and what I am able to do in my own locus on control. I will always find myself drawn to the outsiders, the misfits, the vagabonds, the misunderstood. I want to help people who are society, or socially, disadvantaged by trauma and mental illness, but only when I have ability to help myself.

it's a journey.

I will not date anyone who is cruel to animals, outside of specify magical sacrifice, there is not any place for that. nor will I date or fraternise with anything or anyone linked or associated with pedophilia. I won't judge anyone on anything that are outside animal cruelty and pedophilia. I don't and haven't. I keep on good terms with every ex, bar 1 whom I only apologised too this year. it felt good to do that. I change my behaviour.

I am open, but also highly attuned to both logical, factual, empirical , scientific worlds, and spiritual, intuitive, psychic and the "collective unconscious". I walk in both these realms, and I am "conventionally attractive". which puts a lot of pressure on me, to be "stupid". I am always dumbing myself down to fit into normality, but I look ridiculous if I do that so I peacock my intellect.

only to be misconceived.

I give up because I no longer care how anyone but MYSELF can see ME. I won't dumb myself down , but I can enhance you UP. prepare yourself for graded education, evolution and self-growth on mass scales.sorry not sorry.

that sucks for the people who want to be living vicariously through me, for making up to lost trauma years, for family who sold me out for the success I'd bring home, or fake trauma enmeshed friends, or whatever they want or need from me. I value my time and energy, and have given that in abundance, and if you want to be with nut only "one part of me that is alters". I can't provide that now. not sorry.

I have to work on something or not be in a dynamic at all.

I no longer can switch on demand to adapt for you, it will not be effective and that upsets a lot of people. especially now I'm sober. harder to handle this, as I see the world for its ways and why it is, more vividly. I haven't had alcohol for almost 2 months, although, I could drink, I haven't.

I can't do it, anymore. it, being, faking, my selves fronting to impress. I can't. I have no more left to give, and I'm expected by everyone to be a way I can't do it in the way they want.

I will go to another year long outpatient DBT, followed by 10 weeks of A-C-T therapy, and however many ECT OR TMS may or may not help. I'm told it won't (ect) work. but TMS, is something I am open too. but I am telling you, none of this psychotherapy, that will be based on dbt skills, day therapy, intensive skills training, recommencing my studying, and resuming "life worth living" will or can wipe the traumas I've "recovered" memories for.

I will also shut the fuck up, and tell nobody about this if you leave me alone, I told that to my family, and this is open letter to the watchers, stalkers and perps who read this openly as I track the hits on here and have 200+ visits a day every day for the last month. globally. no idea how or who you are but I think its the same people who called the police for the "ayreon song lyrics" seen to be a suicide not last October.

thanks for that wake up call, I have shut the fuck up, since December, more so now. I will burn the journals, or lock them up.

my recovery is not linear, not yet fully integrated and I trust nobody so I don't think my psychotherapy will be deep, I focus on things like ADHD AND my EDNOS. and dbt skills. I won't be talking about sexual traumas.

enjoy the update, and thanks for the "attention".

I have my goals, my work, my meaning and what my life should and could and will look like, but I will not share that with anyone. that means everyone right now.

I've been tested, traumatised and terrorised to the point of not-tolerant of anyone who may bring that back, and banish the fuck out of my sphere every moment I need.

take me as I am, or watch me as I go, which I will go, where I am not wanted I will remove myself, but I will find where I am celebrated because I create that.

I will rise up against all adversity every time but that is survival and that created a resilient and brave woman, in me. who will not be destroyed or decomposed by humans who are fundamentally fucking evil.

I gift you my truth, in progression, and give up the pain of the past.

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Envious (Branjie) - Ortega

a/n: hello ya big lovely bastards it’s ya gal ortega back on the scene with this wee bit of filth i promised was coming over on my blog about a month ago! thank u very much to everyone that’s waited patiently! without further ado i wish all of my readers a very pleasant jealous exes makeup sex fic xo

(this fic is sponsored by envious // aluna, go listen to it it’s is the exact vibe)

fic summary:

yeah, you got some nerve

standing over there with her just to make me mad

(or- Brooke and Vanessa are ex girlfriends at a party both missing each other and wanting to make the other jealous so Brooke spends all night flirting with Priyanka and Vanessa spends all night flirting with Kameron until neither of them can keep up the charade anymore and they go and have jealous makeup sex in the bathroom)

***

The room is dark, the music is loud, and she’s over there.

Brooke wonders if she knew she’d be here tonight. She probably did if the outfit she’s wearing is anything to go by; black lace bodysuit that’s see-through everywhere but where Brooke wants it to be, vinyl red snake print skirt that’s too short and too tight and is going to make Brooke have a heart attack. She’s not chosen heels tonight. Instead she’s in a pair of scuffed black Superstars with three gold stripes which are stained with the spilt alcohol of parties gone by. Brooke always thought it was adorable when she accepted her short stature, always used to love the way she’d have to go on her toes if she wanted to kiss her.

Which used to be all the time. And now it’s not.

Instead she’s leaning against the counter in the kitchen and talking to some tall Amazonian goddess with tumbling blonde ombré hair, long legs and intimidating-looking muscles which tell Brooke she wouldn’t win against her in a fight. Not that Brooke’s going to fight her, of course. Even if the way she tucks her hair behind her ears and laughs softly as her conversational partner screeches out a story makes Brooke want to tip the entire contents of the punch bowl they’re standing beside over her head.

“Anyone sitting here?”

Brooke blinks, a little caught out, and follows the voice to make sure it’s actually talking to her. She is pleasantly surprised when her gaze falls on a tall girl with a shock of long, straight, bright orange hair, with long eyelashes and dark eyes and full lips. She’s wearing a denim skirt with a set of metal buttons down the front and a safety pin masquerading as one at the bottom. She also appears to be part of the bodysuit club (was there a dress code? Did Brooke miss a memo?) except hers is white, long-sleeved, tight and ribbed.

Brooke might still be hung up on her ex but she knows a pretty girl when she sees one, and she runs her tongue over her teeth before she smiles. “Nope, you’re good.”

The girl grins gratefully and flips some of her hair over her shoulder before sitting down next to Brooke on the battered leather sofa. She’s close and Brooke can smell her perfume, the overpowering cloying-ness of it rendering it instantly recognisable as some Thierry Mugler invention. It’s only then that Brooke registers she’s got two drinks in her hand, and she’s holding one out for her to take.

“You want this?” she asks cheerfully. “It was meant for my friend but I think she went off to get high or something, I don’t know. Anyway, it’s yours now.”

The outgoing nature of this girl is only serving to take Brooke’s mind off of the one on the other side of the house. That’s good. She doesn’t want to think about her, or the way that she’s almost pressed up against that other bodybuilder girl, or the way that that used to be them.

Brooke blinks slowly in an attempt to hit refresh on her mind, not to dignify those thoughts with any more time. She thanks the girl and sips at the curious red liquid in the cup, narrowing her eyes a little. “What’s in this?”

“Fuck knows. It’s the punch from the kitchen,” the girl shrugs, then raises an eyebrow at Brooke. “I mean there’s no roofies, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, I wasn’t…God, sorry-”

“Chill. I’m kidding,” the girl quirks a smile, and Brooke relaxes a little. Fuck, this is hard. She’s out of practise more than she’d care to admit. Luckily though the girl takes the lead again, flicking her hair once more and exposing a huge gold hoop hanging from her earlobe. “I’m Priyanka.”

“I’m Brooke,” Brooke follows suit. How can it possibly feel weird to introduce herself to someone else? “So, uh. How do you know Yvie?”

“We do netball together,” Priyanka explains, fishing something out of her drink with a long acrylic nail. “I mean, just for fun. Neither of us are actually on the team. I’m pretty much still at the stage where the ball comes towards me and I scream so loud all the insects in a five mile radius pass away.”

Brooke can’t control the way she snorts out a laugh at Priyanka’s unexpected turn of phrase. She’s funny, and that’s always been attractive to Brooke. She remembers the way someone else used to make her laugh like that, the absolutely off-the-wall observations she’d hit out with. Brooke’s thinking about her again, and she finds her gaze shifting through to the kitchen.

When Brooke’s eyes land on her, she finds she’s already staring her way. Staring at her and Priyanka sitting close together on the sofa, and Brooke having just laughed the way she used to laugh with her. And her face is like a storm cloud brought to life.

Brooke feels a little spark go off in her gut a bit like she’s won something, so she casts Priyanka a big smile, one that she attempts to make literally sparkle. Brooke reaches out and touches Priyanka’s knee lightly, can practically hear the girl on the other side of the room hiss.

“You’re funny,” Brooke simpers, and Priyanka tries to suppress a smile but fails.

“You’re cute,” she replies, and a firework goes off in Brooke’s brain.

***

“Son of a bitch,” Vanessa finds herself muttering under her breath.

“What?”

Her gaze snaps back to the girl in front of her. Kameron, the girl that works at the gym with muscles that make Vanessa wonder if she could pick her up and hold her against the wall if they made out. The girl who’s tall and blonde and who, if Vanessa squints a little, looks just like her ex.

Her ex who’s currently sat in the living room dressed in the tightest pair of blue jeans imaginable (Vanessa knows the ones- they make her butt look way too good) and an illegally tiny pink crop top, practically in some other girl’s lap, laughing and flirting and touching and doing entirely too much.

But Vanessa’s not thinking about her right now. She’s moving on. She’s talking to a hot girl with tattoos and ripped jeans and a flannel shirt tied around her waist and short nails on her middle and index fingers.

Or at least she’s trying to. If her ex wasn’t distracting her by laughing so loud the whole party is practically deafened.

“Sorry,” Vanessa smiles apologetically, bats her lashes a little. “What were we talkin’ about?”

“You were telling me about your course,” Kameron raises an eyebrow at her. “And then you got distracted by that girl over on the sofa.”

Fuck. Vanessa needs to save the situation. Kameron is incredibly gorgeous and Vanessa’s goal is to go home with her tonight, be underneath her between the hours of 1 and 4am and all the while run the risk of accidentally yelling out the wrong name. She decides to come clean. “God, yeah, sorry. It’s just…that’s my ex. An’ I forgot she’d be here tonight. Sucks when you got mutual friends after you break up so then you still gotta see each other.”

Kameron nods understandingly. “Jeez, sorry. That’s rough. And that’s totally insensitive of her to be doing all that in front of you. You think she’s doing it on purpose?”

Vanessa narrows her eyes as she flicks her gaze to the sofa again. She’s tracing the henna on the other girl’s hand. Vanessa feels the blood in her veins turn to fire. “Yep.”

As she flicks her gaze back to Kameron, Vanessa watches as a little scheming smile appears on her face. “Well, you should get to have some fun of your own, right?”

Vanessa feels little butterflies in her stomach as Kameron steps a little closer to her and lets out a laugh that’s entirely too loud but makes Vanessa smile at the sheer unexpectedness of it all regardless. “What the hell was that for?”

Kameron jerks her head to the living room and sure enough, her ex is looking over at the pair of them with a face like a burst balloon and body language to match.

“Now,” Kameron says lightly as she brings a hand up to touch Vanessa’s arm gently. “Are you going to tell me what the hell sociology is?”

***

Brooke doesn’t really know what her plan is anymore. She’s not sure if she’s trying to make her ex jealous or if she actually really wants to kiss Priyanka until she can no longer think straight. Priyanka is confident, and funny, and very attractive, and the way she smiles all excitedly at practically everything Brooke says is entirely too endearing. But Brooke is vaguely- scratch that, acutely- aware of the two girls in the kitchen who are standing too close and smiling too much and fuck, she’s giving the other girl those eyes and Brooke knows exactly what that look means.

She needs to up her game somehow.

“So wait, you must have so many crazy stories about Yvie from high school,” Priyanka distracts her. She’s curled her fingers around Brooke’s at some point during their conversation, and Brooke’s not adverse to that at all.

Brooke pauses for dramatic effect and leans close to Priyanka as she imparts her new information. “She had a full Myspace emo fringe which she used to straighten as soon as she got out the shower.”

“NO!” Priyanka yells, throwing her head back in a laugh. Score. That’s going to have attracted the right amount of attention from the girl in the kitchen, and Brooke feels like she’s been lit up inside.

“Fried her hair. Fried it! I can’t even describe the sizzling sound it made on the irons. Like twelve thousand rashers of bacon on the hottest pan alive. I heard it so many times at sleepovers, I swear I can’t eat fried food any more.”

Priyanka’s laughing again, gripping Brooke’s hand tighter and sending shockwaves down her spine. As her laughter dies down, Brooke notices she’s got her hand in her lap and it’s giving her entirely too many ideas.

She checks on the situation in the kitchen. Her ex isn’t looking at her. Instead, she’s got her eyes on the girl in front of her and a hand on her waist, and Brooke feels a little like she’s going to be sick.

“It was 2012, though, I mean we all made questionable choices back then,” Priyanka shrugs, her gaze dark and wicked as she fixes Brooke with her brown eyes. “I bet you were, like, totally on the neon trend.”

Brooke is distracted from her ex by the horrific accusation she’s just had pointed at her, and she lets out a small screech as Priyanka laughs. “Oh my God! That’s the most offensive thing anyone’s ever said to me. Fucking…neon, Jesus. So wait, you think I was one of those girls that rocked up to house parties in a bright green tutu and those Stargazer pink feather eyelashes?!”

“Exactly that! And twelve layers of fake tan!” Priyanka laughs with glee. Brooke finds the nausea dissipating. She really is very cute.

“Oh my God, fuck all the way off. No, I was more…trying incredibly hard to be the fifth member of Little Mix.”

Priyanka’s mouth drops open in shock and recognition. “No way. Your entire personality was moustache-themed accessories, wasn’t it. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Brooke bites back a smile. “If I told you I had a t-shirt with the words ‘I moustache you a question’ on it…would you judge me?”

Priyanka drops Brooke’s hand in aid of flailing and squealing entirely too much, but Brooke’s only disappointed for a moment because as she speaks Priyanka rests both of her palms on Brooke’s knees. “YES! Heavily! Jesus, at least you glowed up, though.”

Brooke feels like she’s blushing. Maybe she is. She tucks a little lock of hair behind her ear and she’s not too sure whose benefit it’s for. “Stop it.”

“I mean, I don’t know what you looked like in high school, but you’re super hot now, so,” Priyanka shrugs, gives her a little wink. The girl is a massive flirt and Brooke doesn’t mind it one single bit.

She takes Priyanka’s hand before looking back through to the kitchen.

That got her attention.

***

“So he’s obviously booked himself onto the expert level class to try and impress me, and I’m like, baby…you are so not even close to my type. Because number one, you’re a guy. And that’s…that’s numbers two and three as well, actually.”

Vanessa giggles, leans in a little closer for good measure.

“So anyway, I think I maybe killed him that day. If you’re going to call yourself an expert, have the balls to back it up,” Kameron finishes her story, and Vanessa is smiling, simpering, tucking her hair behind her ears, laying it all on thick because the girl in the living room she’s attempting to stop thinking about has got her fingers curled around that other girl’s hand and she’s stroking a little strip of skin with her thumb the way she used to do to Vanessa’s hand across the table if they were out having dinner somewhere nice.

“So how much can you lift?” Vanessa asks, and if she’s leaning against the counter and pushing her chest out just a little then it’s nobody’s business but her own.

Kameron smirks at her and Vanessa finds herself blushing, the other girl obviously wise to what she’s trying to do. “Well I can squat 80 kilos?”

Vanessa frowns. “Much is that?”

“You know those bags of flour you get from the shop?” Kameron tilts her head, and Vanessa nods. “Eighty of those.”

Vanessa’s eyes fly wide open. She gives a little laugh of disbelief. “Stop lyin’, there’s no way that’s possible!”

Kameron is laughing at her reaction, and it gives Vanessa a little feeling of triumph. Suddenly she forms an idea. “Bet you couldn’t squat me.”

Vanessa feels something curl low in her gut as Kameron raises an eyebrow at her. “Is that a challenge?”

“Might be.”

There’s a little glint in Kameron’s eyes as she suddenly picks Vanessa up, ignores the way she squeals and laughs and goes a little over the top as she fires off some squats whilst cradling Vanessa in her arms as if she weighs nothing at all. Vanessa takes advantage of the situation to throw her arms around Kameron’s neck, and as Kameron deposits her back on the kitchen tiles Vanessa makes a big show of trailing her hands down past her collarbones and smiling up at her a little.

It occurs to Vanessa that she’s not looked over to the sofa in a little while and sure enough, her ex flicks her gaze quickly back to the girl in front of her as if she’s been caught staring.

Vanessa smiles triumphantly at Kameron before hopping up to sit on the countertop. If it gives whoever’s in the living room a better view of her thighs, then that’s just a happy coincidence.

***

Brooke doesn’t know how long she’s been talking to Priyanka. Could’ve been an hour, could’ve been three, but all she knows is that she needs another drink. Preferably some of the red concoction that Priyanka managed to procure from the punch bowl.

The problem is, all of the alcohol is in the kitchen. Where she is. With the fucking lesbian bodybuilder she’s chatting up. But then said lesbian bodybuilder leaves the room- not before giving her a kiss on the cheek that sends Brooke’s blood pressure skyrocketing, but it means that she’s alone.

Without knowing what possesses her, Brooke turns to Priyanka and motions to her empty cup. “You want another?”

“Yes please,” she replies politely, and Brooke’s heart melts a little bit. Priyanka is nice, and she’s sweet.

But she’s not her.

So Brooke stands up, tugs down her top a little bit before walking tall through to the kitchen. She’s sat on the countertop with her legs crossed and her thighs look entirely too good. Brooke is consumed by the sudden need to kiss all the way up them like she used to and she still hasn’t forgotten how soft her skin is or the way it smells like cocoa butter.

She’s on her phone as Brooke approaches but her eyes flick up to look at her as Brooke walks in, stands right up close beside her as she reaches for two plastic cups and then the punch ladle. She wishes she’d picked a skirt or something that exposes her legs because the outside of her ex’s thigh is touching hers and the spark that’s just sent about thirty volts of electricity through Brooke’s nerve endings is delicious.

They don’t speak. Brooke wants to say something, but her ex hasn’t broken the stalemate and therefore neither will she. She’s consumed with longing. She misses her. She misses her so much. But this isn’t the kind of place for that conversation, not that she’d deign Brooke with any of her time anyway. As she tips the red liquid into the plastic cup, Brooke becomes acutely aware of the fact that her ex has uncrossed her legs, and that she’s deliberately pressing her thigh against her. She knows what she’s doing. So much of Brooke wants to grab her jaw and smash their lips together, press her body right up against hers and rip her clothes off in the middle of the kitchen at her best friend’s house party, but she doesn’t. Instead, Brooke flips her long, blonde hair over one shoulder, exposing a strip of her neck that her ex used to love kissing all the way up and marking with red and purple hickies.

From the way her gaze darkens as Brooke sneaks a look at her, she’s thinking about the same thing right this second.

Brooke’s filled up her cups so she’s ready to go back through to the living room, back through to Priyanka and the prospect of taking her home that night and pretending she’s the girl on the countertop beside her. But all of that, all of those prospects aren’t as good as the reaction she gets as Brooke reaches out and touches her ex’s knee, lets her fingers skate up the exposed strip of inner thigh as she leans in close and whispers quickly into her ear.

“She looks a little bit like me.”

Before Brooke turns and walks back into the living room, she catches the look on her face: shocked, infuriated, and her gaze absolutely filled with lust.

Brooke ignores the heavy throb between her thighs as she makes her way back to her position on the couch.

***

Vanessa scrolls. Scrolls through her camera roll, back to all the ridiculous selfies they took together- silly ones lying on the grass at the park, glam ones before they went off to Scarlet’s fancy 21st, cute ones buried under the duvet after sex where they pulled horrific faces and laughed and laughed and still found the other the most beautiful person in the world. She scrolls through their texts, all the way back to when they first met at Jackie’s flat party and started messaging each other all tentative and shy and flirty.

She misses her. She doesn’t even remember what they had that stupid fight about now, and she should, it should have been something important because it’s the reason everything came crashing down around her. Vanessa misses the way she’d always be the first one to wake up and bring her cups of coffee, she misses the way they’d both get all excited if they went for a walk and saw a neighbourhood cat, she misses that Snow Fairy body spray she would wear at Christmas time that smelt of candyfloss and jelly beans and made Vanessa want to cuddle her and never let go.

She wishes she hadn’t let go. And now she’s over there, laughing like a dumb blonde airhead with that girl she just got punch for. Vanessa narrows her gaze. If anything, that girl looks more like her than Kameron looks like her ex. They both have dark skin (although they’re completely different shades), and dark eyes (Vanessa’s guessing), and…

Yeah, that’s probably where their similarities end.

“Hey! Sorry. I bumped into this girl I knew from class last year, hadn’t seen her in ages,” Kameron breezes back in. She clearly registers Vanessa’s radiating the same vibes as a cat that’s been taunted too many times with a laser pointer, and she cocks an eyebrow at her suspiciously. “Who pissed in your cereal?”

Vanessa pauses. She’s loath to bring her ex up again with Kameron. She’s trying hard to forget about her, and Kameron is beautiful and would probably treat her right and might end up being the one she’s never realised she’s been looking for.

And then she hears that laugh ricochet through the house again, and she visibly winces.

“Right. The ex,” Kameron grimaces. Vanessa feels herself cringe a little bit. Kameron’s clearly realised that she’s going to get nowhere with a girl who’s still hung up on somebody else, and to be honest Vanessa doesn’t blame her.

“I’m sorry,” Vanessa says, embarrassed. “You’re real sweet. But I think I’ll prolly just end up goin’ home by myself. Might cry so hard into a tub of Chew Chew that the caramel turns salted. Who knows.”

Kameron lets out a warm, genuine laugh, touches her arm in a way that makes Vanessa wish she wasn’t so hung up on her ex still. “Well, I hope your night doesn’t end up as sad as all that.”

With that, Kameron pulls her into a hug. She’s warm and soft and Vanessa finds herself sighing a little, not realising how tight her chest had become until now. Suddenly, she feels Kameron’s chest judder in a laugh.

“What?”

Kameron murmurs against Vanessa’s ear. “Your girl’s looking over.”

Vanessa isn’t bothered. “She prolly don’t give a fuck.”

Kameron pulls away a little, a smirk on her lips. “Well. Kiss me so she does.”

So Vanessa doesn’t think and instead she simply follows orders, pulls Kameron in so that her glossy lips press against her own and kisses her deeply, presses her body against hers if only so she can add to the illusion that she’s kissing someone else. The kiss is fine- the kiss is good- but it’s not what she wants, and selfishly Vanessa opens her eyes, lets her gaze travel through to the living room and the girl on the sofa, and-

Mother fucker.

Vanessa locks eyes with her while she’s got her own tongue down that other girl’s throat and a hand in her orange hair. She can’t believe it. Can’t fucking believe it. Her ex has seen her kissing Kameron and she’s tried to beat her at her own game. Vanessa keeps her eyes on her as she brings a hand up to Kameron’s jaw, pulling her closer to her. When her ex’s eyes snap shut like she’s seen something she doesn’t like, Vanessa calls that a win.

Satisfied, Vanessa pulls away and Kameron follows her lead. They share a goodbye and Vanessa is left on her own. She can’t stop looking at the scene in the living room that isn’t yet over. She thinks about fingers on her thigh and a whisper in her ear and the way that they both so clearly want each other Vanessa’s amazed the house hasn’t burnt down with the tension of it all yet.

So, as the two girls on the sofa break away, Vanessa does what any self-confessed bad bitch would do- smooths her skirt down, tosses her hair over her shoulder, and walks through to the next room. Vanessa watches her ex react- she’s still talking to that girl but her eyes keep darting right, right, right, falling on her with every step she takes. Her body language is becoming jittery, nervous, as if Vanessa’s about to spoil this little cosy setup she’s got going with fucking Lavagirl on the sofa.

And when Vanessa makes and then holds eye contact with her before sharply turning in the direction of the bathroom, she doesn’t look back. Even when she hears her telling the girl that she’ll be back in a second, and feels the presence of someone following behind her.

Vanessa skips past the queue of people that has accumulated outside the small bathroom, jumps in front of a girl with bad extensions who’s about to go in and who yells at her in outrage. She’s silenced, however, by the way the girl following her closes the door and slides the lock in place, turning around with pure rage on her face. Vanessa smirks.

“Wow. Didn’t know watching girls pee was one of your kinks.”

“Shut the hell up,” she bites back, taking two steps towards her and setting Vanessa’s heart off like a flare. “It’s pretty fucking obvious you wanted me to follow you.”

“See, Brooke, the only way I’m viewing this situation is that you’re the one who wants me,” Vanessa replies, already feeling that flirtatious sense of excitement as she casts a slow gaze up and down Brooke’s body. It’s the way she knows exactly how this is going to end that sends a tingle down her spine and between her legs, and the way Brooke’s looking at her with her eyes all dark is doing nothing to dissipate that feeling.

“Why are you so pressed? I wasn’t the one standing flirting all night with the fucking…lesbian final boss in the kitchen,” Brooke rolls her eyes, and the knowledge that she’s been riled enough to reference Kameron is a win in Vanessa’s book.

“Says the girl who had Ginger Spice in her lap?” Vanessa raises an eyebrow questioningly. They’re both close now, and the cracked white tiles are pressing against Vanessa’s back but she doesn’t mind the cold because every single inch of her body is on fire.

“What was your plan for tonight? Go home with a girl who looks like me and then spend the whole night pretending she fucks you like I do? That it?” Brooke leans in and murmurs. Vanessa knows it’s meant to mock her but she can’t shake the feeling that Brooke’s only giving her what she wants. She’s brought it up now, and images of nights spent in Brooke’s bed are burning through Vanessa’s mind like a wildfire.

Christ, she misses her so much. And if Brooke’s playing a game here, then Vanessa decides she’s going to play one of her own.

“You couldn’t make me scream if your life depended on it,�� she smirks at her, deliberately making her voice all low and sultry, and Vanessa’s heart gives a leap at the way Brooke’s pupils visibly dilate in response. She’s close now; bodies not separated by much, lips within kissing distance. God, Vanessa wants to kiss her so badly. Get the pink lipstick she’s wearing smudged all over her lips, pressed against her neck, marked onto her collarbones.

“So…leading me into a toilet and hitting me with playground-level goading. Classy. Good to see you’re still as childish as you were when we broke up,” Brooke mutters in response. Her words are harsh but her touch is gentle as she rests her hands on Vanessa’s hips and in turn sends her pulse through the ceiling.

“You were the one that followed me,” Vanessa cocks an eyebrow, challenging her. Vanessa knows Brooke, she knows she’s proud and takes herself entirely too seriously and she knows it won’t be long until she cracks, she just needs to taunt her enough. So Vanessa rests her palms against the tiles, looks down at where Brooke’s thumbs are swiping against the lace of her bodysuit at her waist, and smiles a little. “Because you still want me.”

Brooke’s face screws up, clearly battling some inner turmoil. She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, but she leans in a little so that their bodies become pressed together. Vanessa lets out a little sigh of satisfaction, the contact between them delicious and satisfying. Brooke’s eyes are still shut as she hisses out a response.

“Fuck…don’t want you…”

“Seemed like you wanted me in the kitchen earlier,” Vanessa whispers a reply. Brooke’s rested her forehead on the wall beside her, seemingly in a bid to avoid eye contact, but one of her hands has dropped down to trace patterns along the outside of Vanessa’s thigh and it’s giving away what she wants. Brooke’s neck is exposed like this so Vanessa leans in a little, lets her lips skate over her skin as she pushes things a little further. “Seems like you want me now. You want me so bad.”

“Swear to God if you don’t fucking shut up…” Brooke hisses out against Vanessa’s own neck, sending shockwaves all the way from the top of her spine right down to the base and ending with a sting of heat striking between her legs and making her throb.

“What, baby? What are you gonna do?”

Brooke nuzzles her head into the crook of her neck, so close to kissing it that Vanessa hears herself letting out a whine into the tiny bathroom.

“Well, I’m not going to give you what you want.”

“Even if it’s what you want too?”

“We broke up…we didn’t work,” Brooke insists, even though she’s pushing her knee in between Vanessa’s legs so that her thigh is right up against her. Vanessa thinks this is a dangerous game considering how wet she can feel herself becoming and the fact that Brooke’s jeans are light blue denim, but she shifts against her anyway and shivers a little in delight.

“We worked in some aspects,” Vanessa teases her, relenting a little and bringing her hands up to paw at the exposed skin at Brooke’s waist. She’s got a theory that there’s no bra under that crop top and she wants to build some evidence around it, so she traces her fingers up Brooke’s spine.

When she doesn’t feel the bump of a clasp, her brain hotwires.

Brooke breathes out heavily against her neck in response to her touches, takes her knee away which makes Vanessa’s heart plummet in disappointment and a whine leap out of her mouth. As Brooke transfers the hand that’s on her hip to the inside of her thigh, Vanessa is stunned into silence as she realises what she’s trying to do. Brooke is having some difficulty, though, getting Vanessa’s legs spread any wider because of her skirt.

“This is impossible, fuck,” Brooke hisses in frustration, before scrabbling both hands up to the silver zip that runs from the waistband all the way to the hem and tugging it down.

Vanessa’s skirt is on the floor and her heart rate is through the roof and the pulse between her legs is fast becoming too much to handle. So when Brooke presses her fingers against the satin of her underwear and finally, mercifully gives her some contact, Vanessa can’t help but let out a tiny giggle of relief. All the big talk and games are gone now that Brooke’s giving Vanessa exactly what she’s wanted all night, exactly what they’ve both wanted all night, and now all Vanessa wants to do is worship her, remind her of what Brooke knows already- that she can’t pretend anyone knows her body like she does, knows exactly how to push her to the edge and hold her there before finally offering her the most blissful kind of release.

“Knew it.”

“I’m drunk, this means nothing,” Brooke mouths against her neck. Vanessa’s eyes snap open only for her to roll them.

“You’re drunk off two glasses of punch?”

“Oh what, you’re monitoring my drinks now? Psycho,” Brooke shakes her head against Vanessa’s neck, eliciting a gasp out of her as she bites down gently on her collarbone then instantly kisses it better. Vanessa knows Brooke’s only embarrassed because she’s called her out- that they can’t blame this on the alcohol, that there’s only so much damage that fruit juice and lemonade and a couple of swigs of vodka are going to do, and the fact they’re doing all of this while they’re at the most mildly tipsy means something that neither of them want to address.

But Vanessa doesn’t focus on all this for long, because Brooke’s fingers are too light against her and her hips are raised up off the tiles trying to grind down against them. She decides to tease Brooke herself- dances her fingers up to push them into Brooke’s hair and tug at it gently the way she used to like. The action makes her moan against her neck, and Vanessa is rewarded by Brooke pressing her fingers against her ever-so-slightly harder, leaning against her so that Vanessa is now effectively pinned against the wall. Even with all of this, she wants more. She wants Brooke’s fingers curling inside her and her thumb on her clit. Most of all, though, she wants to kiss her and to be kissed back, because Brooke’s still not met her lips yet and the fact she hasn’t is becoming more heightened and tense than anything physical they’re caught up in now.

So Vanessa decides to taunt her a little more. Because it’s fun, and it gets a reaction out of her, and if she’s trying to get a rise out of Brooke it means she’s not saying the things she wants to say but are far too risky to even consider.

“This all you got? You scared to fuck me in case I realise you ain’t that special?” she turns her head so that her lips skate across Brooke’s neck. “…or has it been so long that you forgot how to?”

“Fucking look at yourself,” Brooke hisses into her ear in a way that makes Vanessa want to squeal. “Begging for it against the wall in the bathroom at a house party. Desperate little bitch.”

“But you love it, don’t you, baby?” Vanessa bites back, cutting herself off with a moan as Brooke pulls her thong to one side, teases her slit with two fingers and avoids her clit completely, and Vanessa is so tense and frustrated that she feels as if she’ll explode.

Brooke’s breath is shallow against her neck, and there’s a note of awe to her voice as she speaks. “Fuck, V’nessa, you’re so wet…I’m-”

BANG BANG BANG. The slam against the door and the irritated yelling of some drunk girl outside makes them both jump, Vanessa taking one of Brooke’s arms and Brooke’s head lurching up from Vanessa’s neck sharply. They’re locked in an almost protective kind of embrace and it makes her heart hurt only a tiny bit. There’s a pause in which neither of them move but Brooke’s still got two of her fingers dangerously close to being inside her, and Vanessa’s fucked if she’s got this far and she’s not even going to get what she wants out of the situation.

So she locks eyes with Brooke, whose lipstick is all smudged and whose chest is heaving and whose pupils are still wide like a full moon, and she plays her ace.

“You gonna make me come or not? ‘Cuz I can always get that girl I was talking to in the kitchen to come an’ finish what you started.”

“Son of a bitch-” Brooke growls, before she all but slams both fingers inside her and cuts off Vanessa’s resulting moan with her mouth, kissing her deeply and sliding her tongue over hers. It’s exactly what Vanessa was hoping for and Brooke’s fingers feel even better than she remembers as she sinks down to meet her knuckles, her whining muffled by Brooke’s tongue as she pulses her fingers inside her the way she always used to, the way that used to drive Vanessa absolutely wild and still does.

Their kiss breaks apart, leaving them both with their foreheads pressed against each other. Vanessa feels her eyes flutter closed in ecstasy as she rides Brooke’s fingers, Brooke matching her pace and the pair of them falling into a rhythm that only serves to draw Vanessa closer and closer to the edge.

Vanessa knows Brooke can do more, though. So she twists her head to reach her neck, kisses up it and then puts her lips to her ear.

“Fuck…what would that girl you were talking to say if she knew you were fucking your ex in the bathroom right now…if she knew the only reason you were even entertaining her was just to get my attention…she’d be so heartbroken…you’re so mean- ah!”

Brooke sucks a hickey into her neck then murmurs against it. “You love it when I’m mean, don’t you?”

“Love it so much,” Vanessa replies, gasping as Brooke gently flicks her thumb against her clit and sends a tidal wave of pleasure crashing into her.

“You like that, babe?”

“Mmm, so much, so much,” Vanessa bites down hard on her lip as Brooke kisses her neck, sucks on a sensitive spot that makes Vanessa frown in concentration because she’s close now, and she’s not going to last much longer with the way that Brooke’s rubbing her clit in little circles. She doesn’t want her to stop so she begins some sort of sacreligious incoherent prayer, sighing out into the bathroom and not even caring who’s on the other side of the door. “Fuck, Brooke, so good…so fuckin’ amazing…fuck yes, right there…”

“You sound so pretty when you want to come,” Brooke breathes out all at once, the validation pushing Vanessa ever so close to the edge.

“Want to…want to so bad…”

“You wanna come?” Brooke taunts her, and Vanessa is tantalisinglyclose now so she confirms Brooke’s question with a whine. Her eyes snap open when Brooke brings her head up off her shoulder again, fixes her with searing hot eye contact. “Say you miss me.”

Vanessa is so wound up that she thinks she’s misheard her. “What?”

“Say you miss me and I’ll let you come,” Brooke repeats, as if she’s just made a comment about the weather.

Part of Vanessa freezes up because oh- Brooke misses her too. This isn’t just some pathetic, one-sided thing. This isn’t just about Vanessa riding Brooke’s fingers in a run-down bathroom, this is about feelings and regret and a second chance. So Vanessa takes her hands that’ve been anchored around Brooke’s neck so far and cups her jaw, pulls her close so their noses touch.

“Miss you…miss you so fucking much.”

Vanessa crashes her lips against Brooke’s and their kiss is messier this time but it’s still hot and wet and entirely too much for Vanessa to cope with. She’s completely on the precipice now so she breaks away to murmur against Brooke’s lips.

“Miss you…miss this…”

“Miss you too,” Brooke says quietly, kissing her frantically as she teases Vanessa’s clit with her thumb and crooks her fingers inside her and leaves her so close she’s almost crumbling. “You’re so perfect, fuck…perfect fucking princess, Jesus, Vanessa, fucking look at you…God, want you so much…”

“All yours, baby, all yours, nobody else’s,” Vanessa mouths against her lips. Her hair’s all in her face and her legs are aching but it’s happening, Vanessa can feel it, and so she can only squeak out a Brooke, I’m- before her orgasm hits her like a tsunami and she cries out into the bathroom, high-pitched and loud as she feels herself throb relentlessly against Brooke’s fingers, completely overwhelmed.

There’s an almost-silence as Vanessa’s breathing levels out and Brooke slides her fingers out from inside her. Vanessa watches her, flushed and sheepish, try to figure out what to do with them until eventually she remembers what room of the house they’re in and washes her hands. The running water gives Vanessa some time to think. Brooke misses her. She misses Brooke. They’re on the same page, and Vanessa’s just had the best sex she’s had in months (the only sex she’s had in months).

So when Brooke turns around and can’t quite meet her eyes, Vanessa takes a deep breath and collects herself.

“Hey,” she says, soft and quiet. “Why don’t we go back to mine? I can, uh…help you out. An’ then we can get pizza and talk?”

Brooke’s face washes over with relief, and it makes Vanessa’s heart pole vault into the air. She crosses over to her from the sink, takes both of her hands in hers.

“That’s assuming…” she begins, a wicked smile appearing on her face. “…we can wait that long to finish what we started.”

And when Vanessa pulls her back in again and she feels Brooke smile against her lips, it makes her think maybe everything will be okay after all.

***

Priyanka has been standing outside the bathroom in the seven-person queue for what could be twenty minutes but could also equally be half an hour. She grips her plastic cup tighter in her hand and puffs out a sigh. Rumours have filtered through the grapevine that there’s two people banging in there. Priyanka’s happy for them. Except she’s not. She’s wound up and frustrated. Brooke’s clearly ghosted her and Lemon’s nowhere to be found and now she’s stuck alone at a party with an ever-growing need to pee.

She’s jolted out of her moping by a tall blonde with black sweeps of eyeliner on her brown eyes and muscles that make Priyanka’s mouth dry up. She’s joined the queue and she’s said something to her but Priyanka can only look at her with a slack jaw and wide eyes because Jesus Fucking Christ she’s hot as hell and she’s appeared right in front of her. It’s definitely a sign.

“Are you…okay?” the girl asks, her face turning concerned. Priyanka snaps out of her daze, instantly turns the charm up to one hundred. Or attempts to, at least.

“No, shit, sorry, yeah. I’m good. I just got distracted by…” Priyanka gestures wildly at the girl in front of her. “…you. This. All of this.”

She’s a few glasses of punch down but she knows it’s not that that’s rendering her incapable of stringing a sentence together. Nevertheless, the girl in front of her is laughing and her body language is warming up.

“I just asked if this was the queue,” she repeats, a smirk on her face.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been here ages. Think some people have actually started going out to the garden to pee. Yvie’s gonna wake up tomorrow with her flowers growing the size of a fucking double-decker bus.”

The girl bursts out laughing and shows a row of shiny white teeth. She’s cute. Very cute. She steps forward a little to touch Priyanka’s arm, fixes her with a smile.

“You’re funny.”

She’s flirting. This is flirting. Priyanka’s into it.

“No, I’m Priyanka,” she fires back, winking at her cheekily. The girl’s laughing again, and as she tails off she cocks her head to look at her.

“I’m Kameron,” she says. Her voice is smooth like melted butter and her eyes are dark and twinkly and Priyanka thinks fuck it, might as well try. She shrugs before stepping closer, lessening the gap between them.

“Nice to meet you, Kameron. Wanna make out?”

#rpdr fanfiction #envious #branjie #kamjie #brooke x priyanka #lesbian au #smut #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #kameron michaels #priyanka

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clumsyclifford · 4 years ago

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if you're still taking prompts “i haven’t seen him smile like that in ages.” with emo lashton maybe? so perhaps emo lashton having a good day i guess 😅 i love them so much sorry if you want just change this to normal lashton 🙈 -fiancee

emo lashton having a GOOD DAY i think you’re messing with the entire natural order of the world fiancee i dont even think this is legally allowed but i tried my best for you. also this fic includes a secret shoutout to @reveriesofawriter & her long way home theory so.......yeah

The thing about feeling bad is that Ashton always forgets that it ends.

When it’s him, it’s so easy to lose sight of the light at the end of the tunnel in favor of shutting his eyes and drowning in the darkness of it, sinking as deep as he can go until the pit of his stomach reaches the floor, until the soles of his feet hit rock bottom. Under the heavy weight of bad days, bad weeks, it always slips Ashton’s mind that it won’t always be this dismal. There’s an all-encompassing fact to his depression, so that when it sinks its teeth in it swallows Ashton up whole, and he thinks this is it, there’s only this, it’ll be just like this for the rest of my life, and it’s in those times that Ashton wonders if he shouldn’t just maybe cut that timeline short.

But he has to grit his teeth and bear it, because that’s really not an option for him. So he shoulders his own weight, and then one day he finds himself cracking a smile at a funny joke, and the realization strikes like a hammer, that this is the end of the darkness, for now. The tunnel has finally opened up, and the sun is starting to shine again, and Ashton feels dizzy with freedom.

The feeling of floating after being bogged down by the absolute bitch that is depression is relieving, no doubt. But there’s nothing compared to watching Luke get that feeling.

Ashton recognizes the signs of a crash as soon as it happens. Normally maybe he wouldn’t, but he’s so attuned to Luke, these days especially, that when something shifts, Ashton feels it. It’s small at first, and gets worse; Luke doesn’t really talk when they have dinner, and then he just stops coming to dinner. Ashton sees him around the house less and less, and makes a habit of knocking on his bedroom door just to hear the monotonous, “Yeah,” just to be sure Luke’s still inside, breathing. There’s no use trying to prise Luke from his misery — Ashton knows how listless Luke can be, how heavy he must feel — and all Ashton can do is tap subtle reminders into the doorframe that he’s here, if Luke needs him.

(One way or another, Luke always needs him. Selfishly, Ashton is glad, because God knows he needs Luke more than is probably good for him, and this way it’s at least a two-way street.)

In the dark fog clouding the house, Ashton rigidly maintaining his role of caretaker, they both forget their plans.

“Alex.”

Alex's smile becomes tinged with uncertainty. “Ashton!”

“You’re at our house,” Ashton says slowly, racking his brain for a reason why.

Alex furrows his brow. He’s brought his guitar, Ashton notices, and it hits like a fucking freight train.

“Aren’t we writing?” Alex asks, and Ashton slaps his palm against his forehead.

“Fuck. Shit, we so are. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I totally forgot. I’m so sorry, man.”

Alex grins. “No problem. I’ve been there. You want me to go, or…?”

“No, no, you’re here already. Sorry. Come in.” Ashton glances behind him as Alex crosses the threshold and the door swings shut. Luke is in his room. Luke’s been in his room all day, and for most of yesterday too. Fuck. If he’d remembered he would have rescheduled with Alex, but now Alex is here, and Ashton likes to hang out with him even if they can’t get much done. Besides, Ashton likes writing with Alex.

It just feels wrong without Luke, but — whatever. Life has to go on.

“Let me just,” Ashton says, feeling frazzled. Alex laughs.

“You’re high-strung today,” he observes, and Ashton runs a hand through his hair, feeling kind of embarrassed.

“Yeah. Uh, maybe. Sorry. Let me grab Luke, um, if I can.” He bites his lip. “He might not want to…he’s kind of, um.” Ashton trails off, but Alex picks up the thread anyway, and nods soberly.

“It’s cool,” he says.

“I’ll just check,” Ashton says, and leaves Alex in the living room, setting up his guitar, while he disappears to the back of the house to drum his fingers against Luke’s door.

“Luke?”

Luke pulls the door open, and Ashton breathes a sigh of relief without meaning to. Luke’s in the cotton t-shirt and joggers that he sleeps in, and his hair is unruly. Ashton resists the urge to reach out and fix it, and then thinks fuck it and reaches out anyway. He’s missed seeing Luke. There are dark circles under his eyes, and if Ashton peers further into the room he can spy Luke’s laptop open on the bed and his songwriting notebook next to it.

Luke says, “Alex is here. I know, I heard.” He leans into Ashton’s touch when Ashton rearranges his hair, and Ashton leaves his hand cupping Luke’s crown even after he’s finished fixing it up.

“You wanna join us?” he offers quietly. “It’s fine if you don’t. Alex will —”

“No, I will,” Luke sighs. “I should.”

“Don’t do us any favors,” Ashton says, joking but also serious. “Honestly, Luke.”

“I’m coming,” Luke says firmly. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palm — almost childishly, Ashton thinks — and says, “Give me a minute to, like.” He gestures vaguely, kind of towards himself.

“Okay,” Ashton says, because he knows too well how it feels to be babied when he’s set his mind to something, and it’s too frustrating for words. Luke is an adult. If he says he’s fine, Ashton has to trust that.

“He’s coming,” Ashton relays when he returns to the living room. Alex is sitting on the couch, messing around. Ashton gets snatches of familiar tunes, but Alex switches it up before he can put a name to them.

“Is everything okay?” Alex asks. Ashton shakes his head, smiling wryly.

“That’s the wrong question,” he says, and exhales loudly. “Everything will be okay. We’ll be fine.”

Alex gives a short nod. “I get it,” he says, and Ashton believes him.

Luke appears then, bundled up in a hoodie that once belonged to Ashton and the same joggers. “Hey,” he greets Alex, with a smile that doesn’t really reach his eyes. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries, man,” Alex says, hopping to his feet to pull Luke into a hug. Ashton half expects Luke to jerk away, but Luke sinks into it, and Alex maybe hugs him tighter than usual.

When they break apart, Alex says, “There’s something I want to show you guys, actually. I forgot I had this here, but — it’s all in my 5SOS book.”

“Your 5SOS book?” Ashton repeats, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Luke sits beside him, and Alex stares at them for a moment before shaking his head.

“You know I’m, like, a grown-up, right? I shouldn’t be forced to sit on the floor with you spry motherfuckers.” Despite this, he eases himself to the carpet, stretching his legs out next to Ashton’s knee. He retrieves a familiar notebook from inside his guitar case — Ashton recognizes it from past writing sessions. “My 5SOS notebook,” Alex explains, waving it at them. “Where I put all the stuff I write with you guys.”

“Aw, he has a notebook just for us,” Ashton coos, nudging Luke gently with his shoulder. Luke huffs a tired laugh.

“I’m organized,” Alex says pointedly. Ashton grins. “Anyway, I was looking through it when you went to get Luke, and it has all the stuff from our first writing sessions ever, remember that? Five hundred years ago, or something?”

“Something like that,” Luke says. Ashton rests a hand on Luke’s knee, almost unconsciously.

“Long Way Home,” Alex muses, and hands off the notebook to Ashton. “You almost made me cry with that one.”

“What?” Luke says dimly. The page is covered in scribbles, many of them crossed out, and it’s faded with time and wear. Still, Ashton can make out Alex’s messy handwriting — Long Way Home (?) across the top, and underneath, (love song to the boys).

“Not in a bad way,” Alex says. “It was just — I don’t know. It’s like watching your kid sibling enter high school. I’d already done it, and seeing you guys do it — I mean, I knew you’d be a smash. I wished I’d had someone telling me, you know, take it slow. You don’t need to grow up so fast.” Ashton studies the page, Luke peering over his shoulder at the words. REMEMBER: SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! it says under the song title, and immediately beneath that, no one let these boys grow up before they’re ready. “I know it’s your song, but I like to think of it as my song to you,” Alex says, and when Ashton looks up at him he’s grinning shamelessly, but there’s not a hint of insincerity on his face.

“You wrote this about us?” Luke repeats, incredulous, running his fingers over the page as reverently as if it were the Bible, instead of some ratty ten-year-old notebook.

“Kind of,” Alex says. “You wrote it about yourself. I just helped.”

“The bridge,” Ashton remembers. “We’re just taking it slow. You wrote that part. You fucking sneak.”

Luke shakes his head, and when Ashton turns to look he’s smiling. This one isn’t like the one from before; it goes far past his eyes, pulling up every part of his face, loosening muscles that have probably been stagnating for weeks.

“I just thought you might want to know,” Alex says. “I played it for the band — mine, I mean — and the moment they heard it, they knew. But, you know. We get it. We got it then, and we get it now.” A hint of timidity now curves itself into Alex’s smile. It’s not a familiar look. “I don’t think you really did take it slow, actually. Ignored your own music and shot straight to fame, but whatever, it’s none of my business.”

Luke actually laughs. The sound goes straight to Ashton’s heart, gives it wings, eases an ache he hadn’t even really known he’d had, and the energy of the room shifts. Ashton thinks maybe he’s the only one who feels it, but it’s definitely different.

“We’re taking it slow now,” Luke offers, sweeping a hand around the room. The other hand settles on top of Ashton’s, on his knee. Unthinkingly, Ashton flips his palm up, threading their fingers together. “Just took us some time to realize we needed it.”

“Well, better late than never.”

“Yeah,” Luke says. It seems mostly to himself.

“So,” Ashton says. “Not that that wasn’t super sentimental, and I will be needing photos to send to Mike and Calum, but I feel like we should maybe try to write?”

“Yeah, okay. Give it back.” Alex snatches his notebook back, flips to a blank page, pulls out a pencil.

“Let me grab my guitar,” Luke says, and pushes himself to his feet, abruptly severing the connection between their hands. Alex’s eyes travel around the room, but Luke’s guitar is missing from its usual spot on the wall.

“It’s in his room,” Ashton explains. Luke drags his fingers across Ashton’s scalp as he leaves, a tingling trail in their wake.

“He’s been pretty bad, huh,” Alex says in a low voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so…”

“Listless?” Ashton suggests bitterly. “I know. He’s been bad. But that was good. I haven’t seen him smile like that in ages.”

Alex shakes his head. “I was so worried that this would happen to you,” he says. His tone is almost mournful. “Maybe I should have done something more, I just thought —”

“Dude, stop,” Ashton says. “There’s really no point. You’re not responsible for us. As much as you probably wish you were. We made these decisions, and this is our life. It’s not all bad. It’s not even mostly bad.” At Alex’s skeptical expression, Ashton rectifies, “It’s usually better. You caught us at a rough time.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex says.

“Don’t be sorry. Fuck, man, just don’t be sorry for anything.” It’s pointless, is the thing, and Ashton had meant what he said. Alex isn’t responsible for their growing up. Nobody is but themselves, and — and despite everything, despite the burning, piercing anguish that sometimes balloons in his chest, threatening to drown him, if he could go back he wouldn’t really change anything. There are downs, and they are low; but there are also ups, and those are too high to surrender. Ashton knows he’s lucky. If he’s going to be depressed, he may as well be doing the job of his dreams.

“I’m smarter than you, you know,” Alex says, with a hint of a mocking smile teasing at his lips. “And so much older.”

“More susceptible to damage, you mean. Let’s see you crowdsurf nowadays, grandpa.”

“I’m seriously gonna fucking poison you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“I know where you live, you —”

“That’s nothing, I could gather your whole band —”

“Just because your band fucked off to Australia —”

“Alright, lads,” Luke interjects, returning with his guitar and the notebook Ashton had seen on his bed. “Enough fighting over me. I assume that’s what was happening.”

“If it was, I think I was winning,” Alex says immediately.

“Doubt it,” Luke says. “Not likely to leave Ashton that easily, am I?”

Alex inclines his head. He knows when he’s been beaten, evidently. “I surrender,” he says.

Ashton looks at Luke, and Luke is deliberately not looking at him, pink staining his cheeks. But the corners of his mouth are tugging themselves unwillingly into a smile, and Ashton breathes out and resists the urge to kiss Luke’s cheek, because he can see the sun coming out, finally, and it’s going to be a beautiful fucking day from here on out.

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years ago

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Edwards new baby life (twilight)

Edward Cullen might of been a immortal vampire, capable of great feats of speed and raw power, but at the moment that meant exactly NOTHING to the 103 old vampire as while he looked like a teenager, he was dressed like a toddler at the moment.

As punishment for picking on Emmett because he was bed wetting again and needing to wear bed time diapers, Carlilse had decided that Edward could walk a mile in Emmett's shoes.

As such, he was currently in a white t-shirt with Barney on the front, and a pair of light purple shorts with green stripes on the side. Add in a pair of barney themed socks and of course sneakers and Edward would of been the envy of any little guy on the playground.

However as bad as the outfit was in of itself, it was what he was packing under the shorts that was getting stares and laughter as he marched down the halls of the school, trying to get to class as fast as possible and keeping his head down.

"NICE HUGGIES CULLEN!!" A jock called, making the hall erupt in laughter as Edward tried to remind himself that just because he COULD kill everyone, he really shouldn't

in any case, the taunt was right on the money as Edwards shorts were puffed out by not one or two, but three diapers and as such they poked up over the top of his shorts.

aside from that, they puffed out his butt making it look like he had that booty AND made him waddle like the toddler he was dressed as.

'Stupid stupid dad..if mom was home she wouldn't of let him do this! I'm SO telling her when she gets back!' Edward sulked as he made his way into home room, where his teacher took in his appearance with a smirk.

"Some new fashion trend I haven't heard of Mr. Cullen?" the teacher asked, his voice filled with amusement.

Edward, just shook his head and took his seat.

With home room done it was more or less a normal day at school aside from his attire and the teasing he got, though Edward had found if he didn't respond the bullies mostly lost interest.

the hardest part had been having the damn mutt and Bella see him in all his baby glory and burst out laughing.

"Oh my god! Wow!" Bella giggled and tried to stifle her laughter with a hand over her mouth.

Jacob meanwhile openly laughed then kissed Bella's cheek before talking in a loud voice.

"Damn Bella, looked like you REALLY dodged a bullet there! If you had gone with Eddy here you'd be stuck changing stinky diapers!" Jacob then paused and took a sniff and in a stage whisper leaned forward. "Er, Eddy buddy, I think your diapie needs needs a change."

As the laughter filled the halls and Edward glared and huffed, he was glad for the roaring laughter..as it covered up the sound of him wetting his diapers.

Sitting in his soggy diapers, Edward could only semi squirm from time to time, it wasn't all that comfortable and only got worse as he wet his diapers two more times and could feel a bowel movement building up.

Not having spare diapers he knew Carlilse would be by around noon hour and all Edward could hope for is that he'd get his 'diapie change' somewhere semi private.

His plan WAS to wait till Carlilse was at the school and 'make the devil's doughnuts' in front of him and again in semi privacy, but as the clock ticked away (Somehow seeming to slow down!) and his need to go uh-oh grew, Edward started to get worried.

So distracted by his need to uh-oh, Edward didn't even realize that his soggy diapers were starting to leak, Carlilse hadn't slit them so they could take a soaking but just layered him up, so he had damp patches on the inner thighs of his shorts.

'ngggh, my poor tummy.. maybe if I just let out a little gas..' Edward thought.

normally he tried his best not to fart in class but decades of experience had helped him train himself to let out silent poots and normally no one was the wiser as his diet didn't make them too smelly.

of course having been made to chow down on a fiber heavy breakfast before school and having had to drink 2 liters of milk , there was no telling what was gonna happen but it was in his mind, Roll the dice and have everyone know he farted for a worst case if he let gas go, or hold it in and risk MUCH worse coming out.

Shifting forward in his seat Edward gave a slight push to let the gas out, but it was all that his packed bowels had needed to unleash hell.

Loud brassy farts and a horrid stench filled the room as waste poured out into the back of Edwards diaper, forcing him to lean forward more and making it look like his rapidly filling diaper was pushing him out of his chair.

"Mr.Cullen what ar-" the math teacher started to ask but his stink and fart's answered for him.

"Ha! the big baby pooping himself! Told you he would. 20 bucks, pay up!" a blond was saying, turning around to a brunette behind him and holding out his hand.

"What the fuckkk!" snorted a red haired jock, who instantly realized he shouldn't of shorted and covering his nose, eyes watering.

"So gross!" a goth girl half chuckled, sticking out her tongue

"I think I'm gonna hurl!" the blond haired cheerleader who sat behind Edward cried, getting a full view and whiff of the big babies back door bomb and running from the classroom, hands over her mouth and gagging.

Edward himself wasn't immune to his own stink though whether his eyes were watering from his own smell or the fact he was shitting his brains out was a little hard to judge.

the diaper itself tried to expand as much as possible but there just wasn't any room so it started to leak, making Edward smell even worse and though his poopie diaper haze he heard the voice of his father, strolling into the room.

"Whew, smells like I'm just in time, somebody made presents huh?" Carlilse asked, smirking and wagging his eyebrows. "I'm gonna need the room to change widdle eddy here, I don't think he'll make it to the men's room. Your all welcomed to stay and watch if you want, but the smells gonna get worse."

the fact he was gonna be changed right here in the classroom semi snapped Edward out of his haze and he went to argue.

sadly for Edward, and very amusing for those watching, as he went to tell his dad off a large log pushed out and pressed on just the right spot and Edward ended up crying out "DADDY!" in a tone that left no doubt what NEW mess he was making in the front of his diapers as he collapsed on top of his desk.

Having taken out a Barney print changing mat, Carlilse got the leaky boy onto it, though while he was grinning on the outside, mentally he was wishing he'd slit the diapers, this was going to be a horrible clean up.

He was pleased to see that at least half of the class had stayed, though the windows had been opened and making sure everyone could get a good view tugged Edwards shorts off and tossed them in the trash.

"Sorry buddy, but those are too ruined. I'll get you new shorts on the way home." Carlilse coo'ed.

tugging the shirt off it became clear Edwards accident had traveled up his back and so he wiped it clean with the shirt and tossed it out too, leave Edward in just his destroyed diapers and socks and shoes.

"Good thing I got those at a discount, Might have to just let you run around in diapers so you don't destroy all your cute outfits!" Carlilse teased and tickled Edwards tummy.

the huffing and pouting vampire couldn't help himself but start to giggle and squirm as he was being tickled, which only squished the mess around worse. This of course was noted By Carlilse who stopped right away, it was gonna take just about the whole pack of wipes he brought with him as it.

"Alright everyone, the diapers being opened..last chance to book it!" Carlilse called out.

Seeing that there were no takers he shrugged and opened up the diaper, and a stunned silence filled the room, followed by gagging and out of the remaining half, only a third stayed behind to watch the diaper change.

Despite nothing behind said, Edward could hear his classmates thoughts and covered his face in shame as he was bombarded with them while Carlilse got to the task at hand.

'So fucking gross! What a fucking loser..can't believe I had a crush on him.' A redhead girl was thinking.

'Oh man, he's so tiny! no wonder Bella left him..well a diaper boy WOULD have a baby dick so makes sense.' A emo boy thought.

'Awww! little at how embarrassed he is! I just wanna hug him and make him feel better!' a heavier brunette girl thought.

'Oh man.. he's so lucky! I wish MY dad would do this to me..' a small blond haired boy thought, blushing and squirming lots.

'ngggh.. trust me, I'd trade places with you in a instant.' Edward mentally groaned.

17 minutes of hard work later and Edward was cleaned up and in clean diapers, again three but this time they were slit so he wouldn't leak.

Helping the mortified big baby to his feet Carlilse Had Edward wave bye bye to everyone and popped a (what else?) Barney themed pacifier in the poor vamp's mouth.

they of course took the trash bag with all the stained clothes and used wipes and stinky diapers with them, and Carlilse was holding onto it when they were confronted by the school's principle who wanted to know just what the hell was going on.

Carlilse gave Edward a BIG smile that had the big baby sucking hard on his paci, then handed him the trash bag.

"Eddy can you be daddies good little helper and go toss that out for him? the adults need to talk."

of course Edward didn't WANT to walk outside in just his diapers and socks and shoes, it was noon hour now and everyone would be outside!

But Carlilse's tone made it clear while it was phased as a request, it was a order.

Nodding his head Edward waddled off, sure he was about to get mocked endlessly while 'the adults talked' though before he was out of earshot range Edward heard something that brought tears to his eyes.

"Clearly he isn't ready for high school, I'm going to be pulling him out and placing him in a special program for little guys like him.who knows, maybe ONE day he'll be ready for big kid school."

The (unhappy) end!

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