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specialagentlokitty · 2 years ago

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Mr Evershed x Student!reader - what can we do to help

Hey, could u do something about mr evershed x student reader, where the readers disabled (whatever reason you’d like) and doesn’t like going to school because of it? - Anon💜

Sitting in the reception, you kicked your legs back and forth a little as you waited.

You didn’t want to be here but you didn’t have much choice, it had been so long since you had been in the school you wondered how much had changed.

“Mr Evershed is ready now.”

“Mr Evershed? Where’s Mrs Carter?”

“She’s had a baby love, Mr Evershed is the headteacher for now, do you needed help getting into the room?”

“Can you hold the door please Loraine?”

“Of course love, come on.”

You used your cane to navigate the way to the room, and you folded it up, putting it in your packet as you used the wall to guide you through the door.

Loraine placed her hand on your shoulder and helped you to the chair before smiling at Mr Evershed before leaving.

You sat down and just stared straight ahead, something Mr Evershed noticed but didn’t say anything on.

“Hi (Y/N), I know we haven’t met yet. I’m Mr Evershed, I’m the acting head while Mrs Carter is away. I just wanted to talk to you about your attendance.”

You nodded your head and kicked your legs back and forth a little bit.

“You’ve been absent for nearly a month now, before then you took at least a week off every month. Is there any reason for this?”

“Well if you’re the headteacher shouldn’t you know?”

You heard him sigh, and something being placed in front of you, so you felt around and picked it up.

“A list of all the things you’ve missed, tests, assignments. You need to make them all up.”

You hummed nodded your head.

“Yes, yes I see.”

You set the paper back down and Mr Evershed held out something for you.

“You’re on report for your attendance.”

You still didn’t take the report card and he frowned.

“This isn’t a game (Y/N), take your report card.” He said sternly.

You just laughed a little and reached out, fumbling about in the air and as you grabbed his hand, you used it as a guide to find the report card and take it, setting it in your bad.

“This is serious (Y/N), you need to start taking your education seriously.”

“Is that what this school does? For a school that claims equality you sure don’t give it out to anybody. This school sucks, it’s not disabled friendly, the teachers don’t care about their students, hell I get more help from the bullies of this school then I do from the teachers.”

You leant back, crossing your arms as he huffed and Mr Evershed furrowed his brows.

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t even pay attention to yours students, it’s either that or your eyesight is worse than mine.”

“Right that’s enough of this rude behaviour, drop the attitude or I’ll have you in isolation.”

��Do it, it’s not like I’m going to come into this school anymore anyways. I’m better off at home, at least I can learn there.”

You pushed the chair back and picked up your bag, swinging it over your shoulder you pulled your cane from your bag.

Unfolding it, you used it to guide you to the door and with a little struggle you opened it and walked out, making your way to the desk.

“Loraine when will Mrs Carter be back?”

“I’m sorry love I don’t know, is there anything I can help with?”

You sighed and shook your head and left the school.

Mr Evershed tried to figure out what he just watched and he pulled up your file and he looked through it and when he read the words on it he froze.

It made all sense now and regret filled him that he didn’t notice it or know about it.

Now it made sense why you didn’t like coming to school.

He did try call your home to apologise but there was no response, and true to your word you didn’t come into school again.

He gave up trying to get in contact with you, so instead he did some research, arranged meetings wi to everyone he had to and your parents agreed for him to come have a meeting at your home.

They let him in and sat him down the the dining room table.

“We know it’s not acceptable for them not to be going to school, but what else could we do? It’s the closest school they can safely walk too.” Your mum sighed.

“We can’t force (Y/N) to go either, they’re unhappy and they were depressed because of your school. It offered no help or support for her.”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. I know Mrs Carter was acting as a support for (Y/N) while she was there but due to her sudden maternity leave a lot of things were left out that I’m trying to sort. I have a meeting with the trust to hopefully hire some more teaching assistants.”

While they spoke you came in from the back garden, tracking mud into the kitchen and your mum looked at you shaking her head.

“(Y/N) we’re you in the flower beds?”

“Can I lie?”

“You can try but you muddy footprints will give it away.” You dad laughed.

Mr Evershed turned around and chuckled a little as he watched you pad back outside.

“Can I talk to them?”

“Please do. I know they’re upset about missing school and everything that’s happening.” Your mum nodded.

Mr Everhsed walked to the back door, mindful of the mud on the floor so he didn’t make it worse and he stepped outside.

He looked at all the flower beds and flowers, and he found you walked through one of them.

“(Y/N) can we have a chat?” He called.

You turned to the door.

“Huh? What? Why?”

“Nothing serious. Just an informal chat about the other day.”

Mr Evershed started to walk over.

You shrugged a little and started to walk out of the flowers and stopped when you reached the wall and you used it to guide you to the entrance and carefully walked over.

You tripped and he quickly caught you, helping you stand up and steadied you before stepping away.

“You alright?”

“I’m good. Didn’t see the step.”

“You’re just full of jokes aren’t you?” He chuckled.

You grinned and walked over to the middle of the grass in the shade and sat down, and he walked over, sitting down with you.

You waved your hands between the blades of grass.

“Gotta joke about something.”

He smiled at you and sighed a little, his smile falling

“I’m sorry for the lack of assistance you’ve been getting in school, I’m working to change that but I want to know what you want us to do as a school to help you.”

You shrugged a little.

“I guess it would be nice to leave classes a little early to get around easier, it’s hard to navigate the hallways. And sure, Corey and that lot help, but it’ll be easier to get around with no students about.”

“Okay. You and one other student can leave early to get to lunch and other classes, fair?”

You nodded.

“What else? Anything you want or need, I want to make the school a comfortable place for you so you want to come back.”

You carried on listing things you thought the school could do in order to help not just you but other people with disabilities and Mr Evershed wrote it all down.

He was going to make sure he could do as much of this as he could because he wanted you to come back to school and be happy there

#ackley bridge #Ackley bridge x reader #Ackley bridge x you #Ackley bridge imagine #mr evershed #mr evershed imagine #mr evershed x reader #mr evershed x you

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teenytinyjournalqueer · 4 months ago

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I am so sick and tired of my list of rules and requirements for how I act and what I do while “golden boy” can literally do no wrong and has to follow exactly ZERO rules and can do LITERALLY NOTHING WRONG! No matter what I do I’m wrong, even if we both do the EXACT same thing at the EXACT same time I am somehow wrong while he is praised for being correct. I understand the need for secrecy and that isn’t my problem, my problem is that we are held to INCREDIBLY different standards. My problem is that when i thought we had agreed even TRY to impose some rules on him, you FLIPPED SHIT, and he pouted like a fucking toddler to get rid of them. He gets to see and talk to you ANY time he wants. You keep telling me “he” wants us all to hang out together and that I am the cunt who stops that from happening, and yet the first time I’m on the phone with you while he is around he throws a fucking pouty tantrum because you’re not solely paying attention to him, and have to hang up with my and can’t talk to me again till after he fucking LEAVES because god FORBID you pay attention to anyone other than his giant pastry ass for two FUCKING seconds.

Then you send me a TikTok stand up video about boundaries in poly relationships, which is really funny since I am not allowed to have them in our little polycule bullshit. I found that out early on, because when you brought up being poly you told me we could have boundaries and rules, haha what a fucking joke right? Because apparently he and his masculinity are to fucking fragile to have ANY kind of restraints placed upon him!

Why the FUCK would I EVER be stupid enough to think that the FUCKER would or could be a decent adult human who would be anywhere NEAR MATURE AND FAIR! You believe every fucking lie that falls out of his stupid fucking mouth. Even when he PROVES on SO many fucking occasions that he is blatantly lying you, you STILL keep telling me “it’s all in my head!” And I am “believing what I want to believe!” Or oh my favorite “making shit up in my own head!”

He is SO much fucking socially smarter than you will ever even LET yourself believe. He waits till you aren’t around, says a WHOLE FUCK TON of fucked up shit, then either outright denies he ever said it or says that I “took it the wrong way!” He KNOWS you’re going to fucking believe him because has carefully crafted a persona of being a perfectly innocent angel.

I hate to break it to you babe but he is NOT. You say it’s just because other people don’t think the same, or have the same mindset I do. However I DO NOT GIVE TWO FUCKS what way someone thinks, it does not take a fucking soulmate believing romantic to treat their god damn partner like a FUCKING HUMAN BEING! He thinks he deserves pats on the fucking head like a god damn puppy and kisses for giving you BASIC HUMAN DECENCY!

You tell me all the time that the bar is on the floor for men, but you have apparently BURIED IT UNDER FUCKING GROUND! When we talked and agreed for you to try poly you told me I’d be your “primary” partner, and then once he agreed you dropped “Well I don’t ACTUALLY believe in hierarchies! All my partners are equal!”

You tell me I shouldn’t be bothered that I’m held to a standard out of this fucking galaxy compared to him, because I agreed that if I was the PRIMARY partner there would be different standards. NEWS FLASH: THAT ONLY APPLIES WHEN I ACTUALLY AM THE PRIMARY PARTNER! but since he threw a fucking toddler tantrum and is now my equal in your eyes, then YES DEAR I expect him to be held to the EXACT SAME FUCKING STANDARDS I AM!

In WHAT FUCKING UNIVERSE does he get to treat you like fucking shit and still get to be BETTER than me?! HOW is that FUCKING possible? I am SO tired of playing by the rules that were provided and agreed upon, but when he goes and decides to SPIT IN MY GOD DAMN FACE and not even play the same FUCKING GAME I end up being the bad guy for having an issue!

He is such a two faced FUCK!!! I am SO god damn tired of him smiling and acting like a big dumb idiot when you’re around and then continually doing EVERYTHING in his fucking power to push me out of the FUCKING picture. He’s been after me since the first day I met him, from day fucking one he decided that I wasn’t good enough for you and that you were just too dumb to see it, so he was going to do EVERYTHING and ANYTHING in his power to push me out, drive me away, and break us up!

I tried SO FUCKING HARD to be the bigger better person and remove myself from the situation, and not EVER say anything that might hurt his stupid fragile male god damn ego. I promised you I wouldn’t because you were more worried about him and his feelings than yourself. So I kept my fucking mouth shut, removed myself from the situation and according to you “broke his heart”. There is a couple problems with that though, he doesn’t have a fucking heart, he lies through his fucking teeth, and his only interest is in his goddamn self.

Golden boy, just like every other person we know took one look at me and decided that you were dumb and stupid for being with me, and that he was better suited for you, and so he was going to CONTINUALLY pursue you whether I was in the way/picture or not.

You keep telling me not let the hope for our future die, but the minute he came back into your life any hope of that shiny future with you disappeared. Yea, it’s very possible that I am the reason you had to let him back in, and truthfully I will never EVER forgive myself for that. I also know for a fact that the minute you introduced him and I he made the split second decision with NO input from you, that no matter how much YOU may care about me, your feelings don’t matter, only everyone else’s feelings about me do. I am less than worthless trash to everyone else in your life.

You may think he’s different, and that he accepts me, but that’s just because you’re wearing rose colored glasses because you’ve known him so long.

The only thing that’s left to say I guess is, at least he and everyone else in your family as well as mine will be glad when I finally stop being too much of a coward to just end the suffering of everyone around me by just ending it once and for all.

I know it will hurt you, but at least you will be safe, and stop having to sacrifice your health and happiness for me. If I’m gone I will stop being a burden on everyone.

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actually-nagito · 1 year ago

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everywhere there is privilege, there are also those who suffer. there is always suffering amongst someone else’s privilege. Just because it is hidden from your view doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. Most people try to pretend it doesn’t exist or shun it. Examples like the number of homeless individuals increasing as housing prices skyrocket; rich people will make vlogs showing off their renovations and constant purchasing and selling of houses. Meanwhile the only way to afford a house now if you’re gen z or a millenial is if you inherit it, and even then it’s hard to keep up the pay for water, gas, electricity, etc… It shouldn’t be so difficult to have a home, yet it is.

Those CEOs and rich business owners who can earn millions a year but still pay their employees minimum wage - minimum wage isn’t liveable anymore but rich entrepreneurs would still rather have a life of luxury than to admit they’re the cause. If people were actually paid a decent amount, maybe they could afford a house.

People becoming disabled from the pandemic, or war, and governments still not caring about disability equality. If you are on disability benefits, which in Canada is less than half of minimum wage, you cannot marry someone who makes over $6k a year or else you lose your benefits. AKA you cannot get married. Sure firing someone for being disabled is illegal, but making up a reason isn’t. Disabled people struggle to work everyday jobs sometimes because of their disabilities themselves, sometimes able bodied coworkers who are uncomfortable by them.

But they always try to hide it.

“Shh. Keep the disabled worker in the back, we don’t want customers to feel uncomfortable.”

“You can’t set up a tent here. It’s public property but past 9pm you have to go to a shelter. I don’t care if there isn’t clean or running water. I don’t care if there isn’t a proper place to sleep or bathe or even get dressed. You make the public uncomfortable by being out here.”

It’s always to make others feel less uncomfortable, but never to make us feel welcomed or part of society. We are outsiders because the rich praise those who make them more money, and shun those who don’t.

When homeless, some shelters kick you out from 9am-9pm. That’s a full 12 hours of having to go outside. In harsh winters, where do the homeless go? You get shunned or yelled at for sitting in a shop, you go to try and find jobs but in order to get paid you need a home address so they refuse you, a lot of homeless people can’t even work because they’re disabled and couldn’t afford to live anywhere anymore.

If you have a mental illness, people mock you for being weird. They mock you and laugh at you when their loud honking from their expensive cars trigger you into a flashback. They play games to see who can make you drop your groceries first. They laugh when you flinch. But yet they also want to pretend you don’t exist. Have a mental illness? Send them away. Send them to a psych ward that will do more harm than good. And if they’re disabled, a psych ward could k!ll them by not giving proper medications or holding back medications, or mixing medications together.

You go to a doctor for help because you’re suffering so much that you can’t even live properly anymore and no one can give you the care you need that quickly. That your importance and life depends on the schedule and availability of the doctor; who takes weekends off and has a house, family, and kids. Your illness doesn’t take a single day off. You don’t get a break. But you still have to wait years just for a doctor to see you and tell you they can’t do anything. If you even make it that long. Other doctors tell you to apply for MAiD if it’s so bad. They’d rather k!ll you than try and help you because the thing that would help you they won’t get paid a lot for.

I’ve heard (and been told myself) that there’s a treatment for colitis. But the treatment isn’t funded, and only one doctor in the country does it. It works, but doctors don’t get paid to do it, so instead they remove your colon. They’d rather remove a vital organ that could still have potential to work, just so they can get more in their pockets. The treatment is called a stool transplant, and it can be done a few different ways, some not invasive and some invasive. But doctors will keep putting you off, telling you “well you’ve been here 5 times (admitted to hospital for colitis issues), you need actually 6 in order to qualify for stool transplants”. Then the next time “well you’ve been here 6 times, you need 7 in order for a referral” and keep it going for years and years until you finally get booked with a doctor that actually cares about you.

If you aren’t a part of society, people mock you. People shun you. People pretend you don’t exist.

Because you remind them that it could’ve happened to them if they were born like you. Or that they’re the cause of it. Or that they’re so privleged they don’t even realize your existence, and when they do they pretend to help and praise themselves for giving you a dollar meanwhile you’d give anything just for them to let you back into society and treat you like a human and not a wishing well.

“Praise Jesus. Believe in the Lord. Here’s a coin; bless you and hope that Jesus will heal you.”

We don’t need to be healed. We don’t need to be religious in order to get a house or a home or food or have enough money to live. We don’t need you to pray us better. We need you to stop hiding us. Stop shunning us away. Stop treating us like we are a tragedy you can fix by giving us five cents instead of changing aspects of your livelihood to include us.

Most people though would rather despise you and shun you because you make them uncomfortable than to treat you like a person. They use the excuse that they aren’t used to it. That it scares them. It’s a burden to them. They must be lucky they aren’t you, then. So privileged that they tell you how much of a burden you are to them because they could never picture themselves in your situation. That it makes them feel uncomfortable, so they would rather pretend you don’t exist. Rather not talk to you. Rather dump you if you say anything about it, because it’s a shush topic. Society can’t hear them talk about it! They’d never willingly be there for you, unless they actually experience it themselves. Because to them, they can just pretend you don’t exist and their life stays privileged. But to you, now you’ve lost your only source of comfort. Or lost shelter: a home, or lost the only person who would even say hello to you and not scoff at you for sitting in a restaurant.

The privileged make me uncomfortable.

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justanechoflower-ddlc · 1 year ago

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Sayori:Well, it seemed to pay off for you, so good choice! I’m sure you’ll work out who likes what soon. And we generally talk about all sorts of literature! Yuri’s more in the kinds of stories you can feel immersed with, like fantasy and horror, and Natsuki’s more into manga! Me? I admit, I don’t actually do a lot of reading, ehehe~ I mostly just read and write poems!

Natsuki:There’s really a lot more to it than people like to give it credit for! If you look past what it looks on the surface, there’s a lot of thought put into it. It can really get you to think! And sometimes, you find a character in there you can really relate to!

Sayori:Since each of us read different kinds of literature, we all learn new things from each other! We naturally write in different styles, and about different topics too! That’s why it should be possible to work out which of us wrote what! I believe in you, Buttercup!

Natsuki:Smart as Yuri? Heh, I‘d believe that. Took her a while to get why manga’s more than some cute thing to grow out of! We’ve all got our dense moments, I don’t think it’s that hard to equal us.

Sayori:Anyway, is there anything about yourself you’d like to say? Or questions to one of us? I’d say you can get one question per club member, otherwise we might not have time for poems! Oh, and your questions can’t be about the poems we made! That’d just make it too easy to guess them afterwards!

————————

(Monika:Wait, wait… Is that one of the askers from earlier? That’s strange, they shouldn’t be able to follow us here, we’re in the game. Well, at least the others don’t seem to be able to see it. I guess it’s easier not to see it when it’s not on a visible computer… I’ll just… not acknowledge it, and it should stay fine…)

(Monika:Oh, wait, I never deactivated the link between the two worlds, right… I should really do that before the void goes unstable and starts affecting Undertale…)

>$interprogram_connection_enabled=false

Variable changed successfully.

(Monika:That should also stop them from getting here… I hope, at least, I’m not really sure any other way they could have gotten here.)

————————-

(Yes, Monika finally shut off the portal. Wouldn’t want any Undertale characters wandering into DDLC‘s void, that wouldn’t end well. And Monika doesn’t know whether or not the random data from the glitched world could have an effect in Undertale’s world. She’ll get it running again when it’s time for Flowey to head back to his world, this time it’ll be as simple as two lines of code in the console. That’s also how Sayori will know it’s time to have that talk with Monika, if she’s still planning on not staying as a member of the club…)

(If we get another ask, Monika will probably use comment lines in the console to send a message to them. Probably telling them to stop trying to ruin the moment, and to get back after the meeting is over. Depends on what exactly the ask says… …After another brief “How are they still coming?!” Yes, Ren’Py has comment lines. Specifically, any line that starts with a “#” is a comment. And since comments don’t do anything, Monika and Sayori can actually use them to talk to each other without Natsuki and Yuri noticing, since Monika and Sayori can both see the console, and the other two can’t!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monika, what is an accomplishment you're most proud of?

Natsuki, what motivates you?

Sayori, did you have a dream job growing up, or do you still have the same one? What is it?

Yuri, what is your answer to the trolley problem?

*As for other askers, it would seem you have no physical form in this world so the pet was impossible, and Flowey can only hear your voices but no one else. Still, it would be best not to disturb them any more.*

#submission #flowey #ask flowey #ask undertale #ask blog #Art #Paper art #undertale fanart #ddlc Monika #Ddlc natsuki #Ddlc yuri #Ddlc sayori #doki doki literature club #undertale #flowey undertale #human flowey #Crossover #i turned off the asks

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mercy-thompson-fanfiction · 2 years ago

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Could you do a fluffy one-shot about Tala and Kai?

A/N - Ok, not fluffy. So sorry. This happened instead...

“Hey!” Cai called out. Tala was too tired for this. They had attended three hunts together now and he hadn’t bothered her since texting before the first one to ask if they could drive together.

She had decided immediately to catch an Uber.

“I just want to go back to the dorms and sleep,” She told him honestly, turning around. “What?”

“What are you doing tonight?”

She stared at him, not understanding the question. They were at the hunt. Together. It was pretty obvious what she was doing tonight.

“No, sorry, I meant after classes.” He smiled.

“I think Riley and Sara wanted to go to—“

“Oh you’re going to that! Cool, I’ll see you there.” She watched him get into his car—he was the only first-year on campus she knew with a car. “Do you want a ride?”

Tala considered her options. Tom would drive her back, as would Angus, if she asked. She would never admit that sometimes being not-blood-but-practically related to the Marrok was helpful. It saved her the time of waiting for early morning Uber rides.

“Sure…” She replied, a little uncertain. Her fingers immediately and instinctively went to tie her hair back to give herself something to think about.

He motioned for her to get into the passenger’s seat and she obliged. He still smelled like sweat and wolf, which wasn’t shocking. She supposed she smelled, too, but she tended to ignore it. Being in close quarters had never been an issue after a change, but this was bothersome.

“You’re not part of Emerald City either. I noticed at our first hunt, but I never asked.” He said as he began driving. Tala made a face as she had barely had time to put on her seatbelt before he had taken off. “How did you manage that?”

“The same way you did.” She looked at him. “I told Bran I wouldn’t run with a pack when I came back.”

“And he let you?”

“Let me? Let me?” Tala asked, but he was serious. “He let you, didn’t he?”

“That’s different—“

“Because you’re a man?” She was very tempted to ask him to pull over. Her hand was already on the handle.

“Because I don’t have a history of globe trotting to get away from my responsibilities.” The way he said it…

Tala realized he was angry. He was actually angry with her. She barely knew him except for some silly games they’d play when the grownups visited. They were never close.

“I was fourteen.” She reminded. “I didn’t have responsibilities.”

“You did,” He promised. “When you left, he was furious.”

“A female left his territory.” Tala disagreed. “I carried no responsibility. I owed him nothing. Between him and my father—“

“Just stop. I shouldn’t have brought it up. None of us can change your mind anyways.”

He checked no one was coming (at this hour?) and merged left to head towards campus. They were a ways away, but avoiding heading through the major entrances to Seattle tended to be best. He was routing them around.

“Why are you so upset about it?”

“Because it sucked for me.” He admitted. “He considers us equals. Neither of us are quite wolves, but we are. I was locked down a full year in case I pulled the same stunt.”

They had never really been friends. Mostly they spoke because they spent time together at events or “family” gatherings. She had grown up under the roof of her father with the Marrok a mere phone call away. Cai grew up initially with his uncle, in the safely tucked away community of Aspen Creek—the Marrok’s actual home.

“And now you run alone.” She pointed out, watching the way the sky was slowly changing as they drove. Daybreak was a ways away yet, but it was always interesting to be awake and watching the darkness shift from pitch to something recognizably more indigo or blue in hue. “You came out fine.”

They fell into silence for a little bit, but she found it wasn’t as uncomfortable as she thought. It gave her time to contemplate his existence. If he had been sent here to report on her, it was just another obligation he had been given that was over his pay grade. They were just kids, being treated like kingpins in a larger organization that didn’t care much that they existed.

“What was it like?” He broke the silence. “Europe?”

“You’ve been.” She reminded. Cai had traveled with both of his parents on a number of jobs for the Marrok. “You tell me.”

“Going with my da doesn’t count, he’s got me on a leash, too.” Cai reminded, but they fell quiet again.

“It’s different.” She told him finally. “More forward-thinking in some ways, less-so in others. They have female alphas.”

“Yeah,” He nodded, “That I knew. Róisín Breathnach, the Feadhna or Ceann, she’s kind of intense.”

“Lady of the Isles,” Tala sighed, “She took the title Ceann, as a successor, but I suppose they would emphasize that she’s a woman.”

Cai glanced at her, confused, before dutifully returning his eyes to the road. They were close enough to campus now. Idly, Tala wondered if she even knew where the parking options on campus were.

“Feadhna, it’s feminine.” She explained, regardless. “So if they’re calling her that regardless of her formal title, it’s just to bring up the point she’s a female. I thought you would have known that, don’t you speak Gaelic?”

“Welsh.” He corrected, making the turn into the main entrance. A security guard startled awake as they pulled slowly up to his window and Cai rolled down the window.

“Modern Irish Gaelic has a lot of overlap because the British Empire tried to destroy the language.” Tala said, flashing her ID as Cai did the same. The gate opened and Cai rolled the window back up.

“I don’t speak modern Welsh.” He turned to her and winked before driving forward again.

Tala rolled her eyes.

“Calm down, Cornick, you’re not even twenty yet.”

“Eighteen going on eight-hundred.” He agreed.

Tala pulled her phone from her pocket. She hadn’t checked her texts since she had been picked up for the hunt. Now was as good a time as any. At the very least, it would keep her from taking the boy beside her too seriously.

“Cool your tits, Hauptman, I’m just making a joke.” He turned right into the parking lot he must have been assigned to and pulled immediately towards a specific direction, indicating to her that his spot must have been assigned as well.

She startled mid-text to her no-doubt-sleeping next-door dorm neighbor.

“What?”

“I suppose you missed out on American slang abroad.” His grin was absolutely shit-eating and she narrowed her eyes. “Cool your tits. Chill ‘the fuck’ out.”

The car jerked suddenly left before halting, making Tala grab the door and grit her teeth. Despite the incredibly jerky movement, he backed smoothly into his spot and moved the gear shift to park.

She had been so focused on making sure his hand had actually moved the shift to “park” and not accidentally left the vehicle in reverse, Tala missed him leaning in. It was only the tap on her forehead with his index finger that made her turn.

Pale blue eyes were way too close to her face, crinkled up at the edges because the bottom half of his face was apparently still grinning. She wouldn’t know, she couldn’t see it because of the proximity.

“You need to relax.”

“And you need to get out of my face.” Her hand slipped behind her to unlock the passenger door and let herself all but tumble out. “Thanks for the ride.”

The cool air felt incredibly soothing after the close encounter. Tala swiped her sweatshirt from the seat and double checked her sweatpants pocket for the phone she’d stowed in her moment’s panic during whatever Cai considered a decent parking job as well as her wallet. Confirming she had everything, she closed the door.

Cai had already gotten out.

“Thanks for keeping me company.”

Their buildings were beside each other, she was already aware of that. Cai, Ryan, and their ever-changing group of friends were frequently walking with Sara, herself, and Riley after meals or after class. They had a sort of odd little group with each other and Tala didn’t really know what to make of that fact.

“I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” He called to her as she swiped into her dorm building and opened the door.

“We’re not friends, Cornick.” She replied flatly.

“Great, we’ll meet you all here at nine.”

#Mercy Thompson series #Mercy Thompson #tala #cai #mercy x adam #Samuel Cornick

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thewertsearch · 2 years ago

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Asks Compilation 09/06

God, I really should, shouldn’t I? I’ve heard only good things about it, and obviously I love alt-self shenanigans. I might go in a week or two - it’s been way too long since I took a trip to the cinema.

Yeah!!! Welcome to the party! It’s a good time for you to catch up, since I’m pausing for a week or so before I start Act 5. (I’ll probably start it late next week, but that’s subject to change!)

Illuminating, eh? *Adds 5 points to the Light Player column of my notepad*

Never too late to analyze something you love! And doing a close reading of something you’ve read before sometimes works even better, because you know exactly how things are going to pay off. You can see all the foreshadowing you missed!

The obvious answer is Dave and Bro, but I think the most likely Player to do the tbh stare is actually AT.

I think he stared at his computer exactly like this when Dave rapped him into oblivion.

Totally missed it. We don’t learn muck Mark Twain Lore here, but it seems that in the universe of Homestuck, he lived a double life...

Who knew not having a schedule to speak of would ever be a positive? My old manager clearly didn’t know what he was talking about.

It really does keep happening. I’ve already made an OC, and it’s a good thing I don’t write fanfic, because otherwise I’d be fending the writing impulses off with a stick.

[ it goes around a lot as a rumor. I think people get confused because the team put effort into making it canon compliant - and it also uses an official (unused) HS song. 99% sure Hussie never said anything about it tho... - Cat ]

Ah, I see. Still, it definitely sounds like a fan project worth checking out!

Honestly, my excitement is immeasurable. SAHLEE is evolving...

Been a while since I watched any new ones, but yeah, I’m a huge anime fan! I actually re-watched Mob Psycho 100 last week in preparation for the new season. The final two arcs of the manga are fantastic, and I, for one, cannot wait.

I watched Your Name a couple of weeks ago, and I’d definitely recommend that. It’s gorgeous, and the story goes to some places that I didn’t expect it to, going in.

I could talk a lot about the movies I like - and I will, if people are interested - but it’d take a while to gather my thoughts. Like I said before, it’s hard for me to pick out favorites.

They’re completely unnecessary - but then again, so are their glasses and headbands. It is my intuition that Sburb wouldn’t make it so easy for Players to realize that they weren’t born naturally, since they’re supposed to learn about their destiny themselves. I think they probably have bellybuttons.

All I’m getting from it is that Life does not equal Doom, which I’m sure is too obvious to be the right answer. In other words, this is just another intriguing hint about what’s up with Aspects.

Aw, fantastic, I’m happy you enjoyed!! Even learning some basic computer science reveals a whole new dimension to this comic. If you ever want any pointers, or links to resources to learn more, let me know!

That game’s a real standout among idle games. Last time I played, I’d just finished completing all the game’s Milestones, and I won’t spoil you on what happens next ;)

It’s funny how things work out. Weird chains of causality aren’t something that Homestuck has a monopoly on!

I have to wonder what Toby would be up to now without Homestuck’s influence. Would we have got radically different versions of Undertale/Deltarune?

Definitely going to do it! I’m actually probably going to catch up on it in the next week or two, before Act 5.

...yeah, that tracks.

The question of probability as it applies to Homestuck’s cosmology is kind of complicated. Sburb’s lore seems to treat things like the Paradox Clones as certain outcomes, with a probability of 1, even as its multiverse disproves this.

This is the kind of thing I really want to see more of, going forward. Just what are the real rules here?

Universal translation is as good an explanation as any!

It would be kind of funny if, when the kids complete the game and exit the Incipisphere, all the trolls’ messages instantly turn into gibberish, because they never actually shared a language.

lmaoo considering how the trolls talk to these kids, especially in earlier conversations, I think it’s more likely they found a human disetiquette book!

My favorite is probably a more saturated version of my text color - something like this:

I think you can probably get a pretty picture out of any color if you use it right, but I’ve never really been into muddy brown.

I need you to know that I spent an hour earlier trying to edit Jack Noir into that Eggman scene I referenced earlier, so I could post it with this ask. I failed, but this ask succeeded in making me laugh my ass off.

If anyone here hasn’t watched the Snapcube fandubs, I implore you - check this shit out. You won’t be sorry!

She’s no man!

I actually like that more than the ‘8 looks like a snowman’ explanation that I came up with. That ‘quarters = 1/4′ thing is a good secondary pun, too.

This is a good point, regarding why Jade’s prototyping didn’t show up on Prospit’s iconography. Whatever comes out of Jade’s kernel, it will enter the Spire of a planet in ruins. There might not even be anyone to see it arrive.

#full liveblog #asks #act 4 #classpect

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seijorhi · 4 years ago

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insidious

Hinata Shoyo x female reader (+ Miya Atsumu x female reader)

tw dub-con/non-con, yandere, voyeurism, nsfw, smut but like just a sprinkle

Atsumu’s never considered himself much of a relationship guru, but surely he can’t be the only one who notices there’s something real fuckin’ weird about your relationship with Hinata.

Admittedly, the first few times he met you, he wasn’t paying all that much attention. Sure, you were hot, and he’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t snuck a peek every now and then; but his focus has always been on the game, on his teammates. On himself as a setter. It’s why he’s got a strict no girlfriends policy during the season. Atsumu doesn’t do distractions.

And he likes Hinata. On the court, the little dude’s a monster for him to unleash and he’d love him for that alone, but somehow despite being a 5’7” excitable ball of crazy intensity off the court as well, the redhead’s impossible not to get along with.

There’s a few guys on the team that have partners – fuck, Meian’s even married, his wife five months pregnant with their second kid. But it doesn’t hit him until maybe three or so weeks after Hinata joins the team that he’s never seen any of them (or the ones that came before them) show up at every single training session.

You do.

Rain, hail or shine, no matter how early Hinata starts or how late he stays, you’re there, sitting in the stands, just… watching. It’s not a bad thing exactly. He knows Bo thinks it’s cute, gets all moony eyed and sappy about it and Hinata certainly doesn’t seem bothered by it, beaming up at you after every point scored, every successful spike, every receive.

But it’s just– they train six days a week. It’s long hours and a lot of it’s just drills and exercising till they’re dead on the floor, and even hardcore volleyball fans would find it boring to sit through day in and day out. You don’t take a book or sit there on your phone; you just watch idly as they train.

Day in, day out.

There ain’t a rule against it; their practices are closed to the public but the team have a few passes they can hand around on the odd occasion. It’s more of an unspoken understanding; you can invite who you want, so long as you’re focused and they don’t make a fuss.

You never do though, quiet as a mouse as you wait for Hinata to finish up.

“Don’tcha think it’s weird though?” he asks Sakusa one afternoon, wiping the sweat from his brow as he watches Hinata slump down beside you after practice wraps up, pulling you into a nuzzling embrace.

Sakusa makes a noncommittal noise, but dark eyes regard the two of you nonetheless. “She moved with him from Brazil, didn’t she?”

Atsumu shrugs, “And?”

“She doesn’t have any friends or family here, no roots, no job, just Hinata,” he says – slowly, like Atsumu’s an idiot.

And he tries to put himself in your shoes for a minute, imagine what it would be like to follow someone halfway across the world (further actually, because he’s pretty sure you weren’t from Brazil to begin with) but it’s not the same. Even without Samu, or his friends or his family, even in a country with weird customs and a language that wasn’t his own, Atsumu’s always been good at finding his feet.

But he supposes he can understand why you cling to Hinata. Though it’s really more a case of Hinata clinging to you, ‘cause whenever he turns around, it’s the redhead who’s the one all over you, pulling you into cuddles, twining his fingers with yours, peppering your face with butterfly kisses. Like he’ll just die if he’s not touching you every second you’re together.

It’s either sickeningly cute or revoltingly excessive, and for the life of him Atsumu can’t figure out which.

You’d think it’s his first relationship or something, that he’s stuck in some weird puppy love honeymoon phase, but from what he’s heard the two of you have been together for years now – that’s just the way Hinata is, apparently.

He shouldn’t be too surprised; the guy’s always first in line to jump on his back or try and tackle him to the floor after any successful play. Between him and Bokuto, he’s got more bruises littered over his body than a linebacker, but they’re a tactile team, and he usually gives as good as he gets.

You’re not one for excessive PDA though. You never fight against the overbearing affection, don’t shrug it off or shrink away – at least, not from what he’s noticed – but Atsumu hasn’t seen you initiate anything more than a quick peck to his cheek when Hinata’s got you all bundled up in his arms.

And he gets that not every relationship has to be equal in that sense, different love languages and all that crap, but while you don’t fight it, you never seem… entirely comfortable with it either. Not in the ‘stop, we’re in public, please don’t’ kinda way, but–

He can’t put a finger on it.

You smile at Hinata, cheer when he scores, let him pet and kiss and pull you around wherever he wants, but you never seem to relax properly, and it bothers him. He doesn’t know why it bothers him.

If he hadn’t met you, hadn’t known that you’d been with Hinata since he was dirt poor and moonlighting as a delivery boy in Brazil, he’d be tempted to think that you were only in it for the money. It’s not a bad plan, as far as these things go – find some up and coming athlete to place all your bets on, get him wrapped around your finger before success goes to his head. And he doesn’t know you all that well and has absolutely zero fucking justification to back it up, but you don’t strike him as the money hungry type.

You don’t strike him as anything, and maybe that’s part of the issue.

Hinata’s like a sun; he’s gonna eclipse anyone standing too close. That’s normal. The team; him and Sakusa, Bokuto, the others – they have their own talents to stand on, to push through and shine on their own, but you…

Fuck, why does it even matter?

Why does it bother him? It ain’t his relationship. You never complain, you make Hinata happy – he’d have to be blind not to see how much that guy loves you – and he dotes on you, spoils the shit out of you, so why can’t he shake this feeling in his gut that something ain’t right there?

It ain’t his relationship, and Atsumu’s not stupid enough to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.

It ain’t his relationship.

It’s not, and he has more important things to focus his time and energy on.

You aren’t his problem. Fuck, you’ve barely spoken more than a few sentences to him! There’s no reason for why he can’t get you and your stupid relationship with his wing spiker outta his mind.

“Just admit ya wanna fuck her and stop bitchin’ about it,” Samu groans one night when Atsumu stops by the restaurant after training. “Yer looking for a problem between the two of them so ya don’t feel guilty about it.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Shut yer trap, wouldja, Samu? I said it ain’t like that!”

He’s not gonna stand there and deny that he thinks you’re hot, but that’s not what this is about. Never has been.

It’s quiet between them for a moment, Atsumu angrily stabbing at the onigiri on his plate, but he feels it when Osamu looks at him. Really looks, dark eyes flickering across his face, reading him like an open book. Samu might enjoy giving him shit and winding him up just for the sake of it, but there’s nobody on earth who knows him better.

Eventually he sighs, and the air feels different between them. Heavier, somehow. “What’re ya saying, Tsumu? Ya think Hinata’s hurting her or somethin’?”

Yes.

No.

He knows Hinata. Well, for a few months at least, but peripherally for years. Ever since high school. And Atsumu’s had the displeasure of knowing guys like that, guys who liked to feel big and tough and strong and would gladly slap around some pretty thing just to feel all manly and shit, and Hinata’s not–

He doesn’t treat you like you’re made of glass or anything, but every time he touches you, so much as looks at you with those bright eyes, it’s with this kind of intense, burning love that Atsumu just doesn’t understand, that honestly freaks him out a little. He’s never seen bruises littering your skin – at least, not the kind that Samu’s worried about. You don’t flinch away from Hinata’s touch.

(You never look comfortable though. Never happy – not like Hinata is.)

No. He’s a good guy, he wouldn’t hurt a fly, and despite the lingering unease Atsumu has about the two of you, he doesn’t doubt for a second that Hinata is head over fucking heels in love with you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

He wouldn’t.

“No, ‘course not! I just…” he breaks off, shaking his head. And he chews on his lip for a moment, debating with himself whether he should actually admit what he’s been thinking the past few weeks or whether Samu’s just gonna call him a pussy or something and tell him to knock it off. “I get the feeling she doesn’t wanna be there. She’s smiling and sitting there all pretty, but it’s just… I dunno, it’s just weird.”

Osamu doesn’t say much after that, but he doesn’t really need to. He knows what his brother’s thinking. If you weren’t happy, you’d leave. If Hinata wasn’t treating you right, you’d leave. You’d tell someone. But it ain’t that simple, is it?

Atsumu’s always had a problem sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.

The first game of the season’s a slam dunk, and while they’re usually pretty tame during the season, beating Kageyama and Ushijima, last year's undefeated champs is cause for celebration. He’s not surprised to see you there at the club, tucked under Hinata’s arm in some little black dress, all dolled up. You smile at him, a hollow, fleeting thing, and Atsumu hates how the sight of it makes his stomach clench.

Sakusa, Bokuto and Inunaki arrive moments later, a drink’s shoved into his hands and he forces himself to think of other things. You aren’t his problem, you aren’t his girl, and he’s definitely not watching you dance, your back flush with Hinata’s front, the wing spiker’s hands splayed across your hips, his mouth trailing greedily along your neck.

And for the first time since this whole stupid thing started, Atsumu recognises the ugly feeling stirring in the pit of his gut. It’s jealousy.

He’s played one of the best games of his life today, his team’s fucking amazing, the music’s good and the alcohol is free flowing – he should be happy. And there’s absolutely no reason he should be watching you out of the corner of his eye, waiting for an opening.

It shouldn’t make his heart skip a beat when Hinata leans down to whisper something in your ear, passing you his glass as he heads off to find the men’s. He’s midway through a conversation of his own with Adriah and Bokuto that he’s barely paying attention to, and there’s a voice in his head (one that sounds suspiciously like Samu’s) that tells him to just let it go, but his feet are already moving, a half hearted excuse spilling from his lips as he slips past them both to make his way over to you.

“Hey,” he says. His voice is too quiet, too breathless to carry across over the music, but he’s taller than you, taking up your space and he isn’t imagining the way that your eyes widen, a flicker of something passing your face before you school your features back into that same fake, pleasant smile.

He doesn’t imagine the nervous look you dart over his shoulder in the direction Hinata walked off in.

You take a delicate sip from your glass, the very same one you’ve been nursing since you arrived and he watches – watches – as you force yourself to relax, the tension easing from your shoulders, your posture softening. “Miya,” you greet, raising your voice just enough to be heard. “Congratulations on the win.”

It’s so polite, so fucking fake that it makes him wanna hurl.

“Atsumu,” he corrects before he can help himself. Sakusa calls him Miya, but nobody else – nobody who knows him – does. He can’t bear the sound of it on your lips, like you’re nothing more than strangers.

He’s talked to you before, right? Surely.

You’re just standing there, perfectly at ease around him and the others – if not for the finger tapping anxiously against the stem of your glass, a tic he wonders if you’re even aware of. You might be able to fool the others – admittedly, they’re probably not paying you too much attention – but he’s used to picking up on the smallest details.

And he’s become real good at reading you these past few weeks.

“So tell me, how’d the two of ya meet?” he asks instead, because he’s rushed in here with no game plan and it’s the first thing that comes to mind. He doesn’t even care about the answer; now that he’s finally here, finally has you to himself for a moment, he just wants to hear you talk.

“Oh, um,” you swallow, ducking your head so you’re not meeting his gaze anymore. “It’s a little embarrassing–”

A familiar, bright laugh cuts you off, and Atsumu’s heart hammers when Hinata slaps him on the shoulder, “It’s not embarrassing, babe, it’s cute!”

Deep brown eyes meet his; wide, glittering and freakishly intense and he fights the urge to recoil. He’s done nothing wrong, he knows that, but Hinata’s staring at him like every thought he’s ever had about you is written right across his face, plain as day.

And you – you look like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, like Hinata’s stumbled on you shoving your tongue down his throat rather than just having an innocent, friendly conversation with his teammate. It’s a split second that stretches a lifetime, but when he dares to look over, you’re rigid, eyes wide and full of panic and he knows, he fucking knows that he’s right.

“Tell him,” Hinata urges, wasting no time in slipping past Atsumu to take his place by your side.

His arm wraps around your waist, squeezing you gently, and after a single, tense beat, you comply. “O-on the first week of my trip to Brazil, I was mugged. Shoyo saw it all happen and chased after them – got my purse back for me, even walked me back home to make sure I was okay, patched me up and everything.” You pause, nibbling on your bottom lip as you gaze up at Hinata, “He was my knight in shining armour.”

Hinata preens as you smile, but it’s still wrong. Atsumu’s seen what hero worship looks like, what real love looks like, and he’ll hand it to you; you have the basics down pat, but you can’t fake everything.

With bitterness and disgust eating away at his gut, it becomes suffocating, standing there trying to carry a conversation and pretending that whatever there is between the two of you is in any way fucking romantic–

It’s too much, like somebody has a grip on his lungs, viciously squeezing out the last of his breath, and he barely remembers to excuse himself before he’s shoving his way through the crowd, knocking Meian’s concerned hand away as he flees for the balcony.

The late summer night air’s warm and humid, but he gulps it down in big, gasping heaves, clinging to the rail like it’s a lifeline.

You’re fucking with his head and he hates it. He hates that he can’t let this go, can’t get you out of his goddamn head no matter how hard he tries. Atsumu’s always been a selfish, arrogant bastard, why should he give two shits about some girl whose last name he doesn’t even know?

He wants to despise you. He wants to forget you, to shove you aside like he has every other distraction in his life. It’s not his problem you’ve found yourself in some fucked up relationship.

But he squeezes his eyes shut, and all Atsumu can see is your face.

He stays out on that balcony until his body stops shaking, until the sweat on his forehead cools and he no longer feels like he’s gonna throw up. The beat of the music, spilling muted from the glass doors, wraps around him now that the pounding in his head’s subsided, tempting him back inside. Any other night, and he’d follow it, get absolutely shitfaced and party till he doesn’t remember his own name.

And as he stands there alone, staring up at the Tokyo city skyline, part of him almost wants to give in – to drink himself to oblivion. Because at least that’d be easier.

But he won’t.

Instead, Atsumu shoves his feelings down, musters up a lazy smirk and walks back inside. He has every intention of saying goodbye to at least a few of his teammates before heading back to the hotel room to crash, but as his eyes scan the crowded floor, he catches sight of something that stops him cold in his tracks.

Hinata has you pinned to the wall, his face buried in the crook of your neck, but that’s not what makes his heart skip a beat. It’s the way your dress is hiked up, your panties shoved to the side, Hinata’s hand between your thighs, fucking you on his fingers.

It’s the look on your face, screwed up in pleasure – or pain – biting down on your lip to stifle your cries. It wouldn’t make a difference. Nobody would be able to hear you over the music, and even if they could he doubts anyone would give a fuck.

His mouth dries out, every thought eddying from his head as he watches you cling to Hinata, your hands gripping his arms tight. Your makeup’s smudged, a tear spilling down your cheek catches the glittering lights of the club, but when your head tilts back he knows it’s a moan that leaves your lips. He can almost hear it, picture it in his mind. You’re shuddering, shaking your head even as your eyes are squeezed shut and the only sound Atsumu can hear is the restless thumping of his own heart.

And then your eyes flutter open and find his. He watches, frozen in place, transfixed in the worst possible way as mortification flashes across your features and your lips move–

Whatever you say to him, Hinata doesn’t stop. He just shifts a little, angles his body in a way that gives Atsumu a better view of your pussy and the attention he’s paying it. He can’t look away even if he desperately wants to, utterly enthralled by the slickness coating the digits, the way your thighs tremble and quake as those fingers curl inside of you, the little jolt you give when Hinata’s thumb rubs at your puffy clit.

Atsumu watches, equal parts horrified and mesmerised as he pushes you over the edge and you cum for him, a pleasured cry drowned out by the music, shaking and breathless and beautifully wrecked in his teammate’s arms. And as you all but collapse against him, Hinata finally turns to glance over his shoulder, meeting Atsumu’s stare.

And with his eyes fixed on the blonde, he whispers something into your ear that Atsumu doesn’t have a hope in hell of hearing, presses a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek and grins.

It’s enough to rip him out of his stupor, stumbling back with a gasp as his blood runs cold. Hinata knew, he knew he was watching – put on a fucking show for him, and suddenly the nausea returns, bile creeping up his throat and Atsumu can’t do a single thing but turn and flee.

Alone in his hotel room and not nearly drunk enough, he falls into a fitful sleep, the image of your face, tear stricken and beautiful as you fell to pieces on Hinata’s fingers, burned into the back of his eyelids.

—

He doesn’t utter a word about it when Boktuo gives him shit for ducking out early the next day at training. He doesn’t so much as meet Hinata’s eye, though the redhead seems no different than usual, all but bouncing on his heels when the Coach runs through the game against the Adlers set by set.

He still gushes when Atsumu gives him a perfect set, beaming up at him with that thousand watt smile. He still offers to be paired off with him when they run two-on-two games, isn’t ruffled when Atsumu instead grabs Sakusa and goes up against Adriah and Barnes.

And you’re still sitting in the stands, fingers twined on your lap, smiling dutifully whenever your boyfriend glances up.

Atsumu tries his best to ignore you and focus on training. He can’t afford to let you distract him any more than you already have, but in the quiet moments between sets, on their breaks, every second he’s not thinking about the game and his performance and his team his thoughts drift back to you. The way you’d bitten down on your bottom lip. Your eyes, pupils blown wide as pleasure crashed through you. Your glistening cunt, swallowing up Hinata’s fingers. The cute little noises you made – the ones he couldn’t hear but spent all fucking night imagining.

And the moment those thoughts enter his head, he can’t stop himself from darting a quick glance towards you, like he’s making sure you’re still there, that you’re okay. Even if you stiffen almost imperceptibly every time he does.

He can’t help himself, and he’s not the only one who notices.

“Dude, you good?” Bokuto asks, pulling him aside a week or so later during one of their water breaks. And for a second there, there’s a flicker of indignation – whatever’s going on with his head, his performance is beyond question; he’s killing it.

It’s not until the wing spiker’s attention shifts, risking a glance over his shoulder to where he knows you’re sitting that he realises that’s not what Bokkun’s worried about.

“Look, I get it, she’s cute and all, but…” Bokuto trails off, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. Every ounce of discomfort is written clear as day across his face. “You might wanna tone it down a bit, you know? For everyone’s sake.”

The irony of it all doesn’t escape him. And he probably should feel some kinda shame, because if Bokuto’s noticed then that means every goddamn one of the others has too and they’re all just too uncomfortable to say anything, but he can’t seem to muster it.

“Yeah,” he croaks out instead.

Two days later he’s halfway through a shower when the stall beside his bursts open and he hears that familiar, sunny laugh, the sound of two bodies clambering into a space too small, and his heart stutters in his chest.

“Sho, no. I-I don’t wanna–”

“Shh, be good for me, alright baby? Please?”

A drawn out hiss followed by a breathy moan, and Atsumu’s bracing himself against the tiled wall squeezing his eyes shut.

The spray of the shower isn’t loud enough to drown out the sounds of you swallowing down Hinata’s cock. And he can’t move, can’t make a sound for fear of making this worse, but with every lewd, messy gluck from your throat, every obnoxious moan that spills from his teammate’s lips, Atsumu feels that telltale stirring in his gut.

His eyes are closed and the image comes unbidden to his mind.

You on your knees, looking up at him with those big, wide innocent eyes. You, pressing soft, teasing kisses to his cock, your tongue slowly trailing along the thick vein that runs along the underside of his shaft. The way it’d swirl around his flushed head, eagerly lapping at his precum. Fuck, his cock’s already throbbing, aching.

He’s only human, he thinks as he wraps a hand around his member, teeth sinking into the flesh of his forearm to stifle his groan. You’re making a mess of him, he wants it so fucking bad. Wants you; to fuck you, have you, hold you, he doesn’t give a shit anymore, you’re driving him to the brink and he’s helpless to stop this.

He can see it so perfectly in his head, how you’d look with those soft lips wrapped around him, the way you’d massage his balls as he fucked your face, how you’d choke on it. You’d be good, so fucking perfect as you sucked him off–

Hinata’s chanting your name and Atsumu picks up his pace, strokes turning into pumps, his fist tightening as he hisses with pleasure. Distantly he wonders whether they can hear it too; his heavy breathing, the slick, wet sound of him jerking off less than a foot away.

He doesn’t care anymore, can’t hold himself back. It’s blinding, the pleasure that rips through him, shaking him to his very core as spurt after spurt of thick, hot cum paints the shower walls.

His knees buckle, his cock still twitching as aftershocks jolt through him, stealing his breath. For a blissful moment, Atsumu lets himself sag against the tiles, a lazy smirk coating his face as he basks in the afterglow, his heartbeat slowly coming down from it’s racing high.

And yet as the warm water of the shower cascades down his toned body, his breathing returning to normal something unpleasant begins to unfurl in his stomach, toxic and cloying, seeping through his veins. All that bliss, that heady, addictive pleasure fades away and Atsumu’s left with the weight of what he’s just done.

Distantly, he registers that it’s quieter now in the stall next to his. Hinata’s murmuring something to you, but Atsumu can’t make sense of it over the dull roar in his head, the disgust and shame that coils like a noose around his throat.

He should hate himself.

He just might, actually.

And it’s not enough to scrub until his skin’s raw and he doesn’t feel it crawling anymore, doesn’t matter that he stays in the shower until the two of you leave, until the water runs ice cold and it physically hurts to stand under the spray.

Hinata’s still in the locker room when he gets out, slowly gathering the last of his things and shoving them into his duffle bag. For once you’re not by his side, and Atsumu can only thank whatever godly beings might be out there for this one, tiny mercy, because he doesn’t think he can bear to see you after what he’s just done.

But Hinata just smiles, bright and cheerful and all too knowing, “Seeya tomorrow, Atsumu!”

And he feels filthy all over again.

#dark haikyuu #dark hinata x reader #dark hinata shoyo x reader #dark atsumu x reader #dark atsumu miya x reader #tw non con #tw dub con #tw voyeurism #tw yandere #trying out some new tags #don't mind me

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kimnjss · 4 years ago

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just hanging out | jjk

⤑ series: cherry pickers

⤑ pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: fluff!... some angst at the end if you squint.

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 3.9K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: lmao second hand embarrassment probably.

⤑ A/N: hey :( love you all who have been enjoying this story nd sending your thoughts in - they really make my day. so thank youu! let me know what you think x

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 16:49

Casual. You're constantly reminding yourself the entire time you're getting ready. This was supposed to be casual. This was not a date. So there was no reason for you to go through the process of getting ready for a date. You didn't shave, just took a regular shower with the regular soaps.

Spent very little time in the mirror when getting dressed, there was no need for frilly shirts or form-fitting pants. Instead, you settled for a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie that Taehyung had lost a little while back. Minimum makeup, hair up, and out of your face.

Needed to cement it in your mind that this was not a date. Steal away any reason for you to act like it was one. No matter how much you knew you'd enjoy the whole shebang, candlelit dinner, romantic walk admiring the night sky, kiss on the doorstep – you had to ignore that.

Bottle it up and stuff it down because there were many things you didn't know about Jungkook and the bits you did know weren't great. His shitty friends being at the top of the list. So, until you were sure he wasn't like the lot of them... not dates were what you'd settle for. Because at the end of the day, you wanted to see him.

It's a thirty-minute drive from your house to Jungkook's and you spend the entire car ride agonizing on how this 'not date' was going to turn out. And then immediately scolding yourself for freaking out over something that shouldn't matter as much as you were making it out to be.

For all you knew, he probably was just waking up... barely remembering that he had plans with you. Most likely hopping in the shower just minutes before you were said to arrive. Mmh, Jungkook in the shower. Droplets of water rolling over his tone skin, following the dips and ridges until...

It's hard to shake the image of Jungkook showering out of your head once you've got it there. Even with his insistent need to wear baggy clothes, it didn't take a detective to see that the kid was ripped. No doubt spent hours in the gym working on his arms, his abs, his thighs...

Nope. Not going there. No reason to go there when you were on your way to hang out, innocently hang out with a guy that you were just barely friends with. That's all it was. Two people getting to know each other after clicking the first time they talked. God, the way you clicked with Jungkook was unbelievable.

He made you laugh. And it was weird because you don't remember ever feeling this comfortable around someone this quickly. Jungkook was different. At least you hoped he was. Instantly, you're shushing your thoughts. Refusing to mentally put so much pressure on something that more than likely become nothing.

Getting your hopes up too early was the reason why people got hurt in the first place. So this wasn't a date. And you weren't going to expect him to treat it as such. Just hanging out to get to know each other. That was it.

That was it. Your new mantra as you shove your car into park, heading up the walkway to his front door. Knocking while repeating those four words to yourself. Casual. That was it.

You're not even waiting a full minute before the front door is being pulled open, revealing a fresh-looking Jungkook. Dark hair falling in pretty waves, on either side of his pretty face. He seems to be glowing and you feel it throughout your entire body when he smiles.

A baggy pink sweatshirt swallows his figure, paired with equally loose gray sweatpants. His house is spotless when he lets you in, obvious that he spent the duration of the morning cleaning. The smell of Lysol still lingered in the air. Even the white socks on his feet seemed oddly clean.

You can't help but smile at the effort, allowing yourself to believe that all the trouble was for you.

Once he's setting your shoes in his extremely organized coat closet, he's leading you through the house. Smiling big as he gives you a mini-tour of the first floor and you swear you're paying attention. You're trying your best at least, but it's hard to concentrate on anything that wasn't how cute he looked.

“And this is the arcade,” He's showing off both rows of teeth with his broad gesture into the room located at the end of the hall. Obviously proud of this part of the tour.

As he should be. When the kid said arcade, that's exactly what he meant. Old school game machines lined the walls, ones that you'd actually find in an arcade. Some games that you've never heard of before. All with the high score name: 'Koo'. A dramatic two-person car racing game tucked in the corner.

There's a curved 90 inch TV mounted on the wall, in front of it on a stand is every game console ever made. He has his laptop set up in the room, with two monitors and two gaming chairs in front of it. In the middle of the room is the most comfortable L shaped couch.

All you can say is, “Whoa.” And he's laughing at your reaction.

“It's my favorite room in the house. Well... aside from,” His eyes shift up, obviously gesturing to upstairs where his bedroom is.

The insinuation has a blush darkening your cheeks, but you choose to ignore it, stepping further into the room with a tiny gasp. “You have Skee-ball!?” He's right behind you as you rush across to the room to where the game is set up. A manicured nail pressing against the start button, grinning wide up at him as the balls roll down.

Bright red numbers flash on the screen, the high score followed by his name: 310...Koo. A smirk instantly settling onto your features as you reach for one of the bright-colored balls. “I'm gonna beat that,” Lifting a finger to point at the numbers on the screen.

Jungkook is letting a loud laugh leave his lips, a pretty smile settling on his features as the sound dies down. “That took me two weeks... good luck,” Drawing your hand back, you release the ball on the swing. Watching as it travels upward toward the slots, dropping right into the gutter.

It takes four throws before you're getting it right, the ball traveling up the slope and directly into the 40 point slot. You're letting out a loud whoop, arms lifting in slight victory.

Eyes wide, you're turning your head to face him. “You saw that!?” You're shocked that he's already looking at you. With this soft lovey look that you were the one to hang the stars in the sky. And it makes you wish that this was a date because if it were you'd be able to let yourself enjoy the feeling that comes with the way that he's looking at you.

But it's not a date. So you don't. Shove the fuzzy feeling away with a shake of your head, reaching for another ball from the rack and thrusting it forward.

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 18:08

Jungkook is scary good at games. Like scary good. If he wasn't matching your score, he was doubling it. Didn't even graze his high score in Skee-ball and every game after that was his domain. And he was having fun beating you, the smile growing on his face each time you were crossing your arms with a pout – claiming the game had to be rigged.

Foosball to Car Racing to Dance Dance Revolution (he had way more rhythm than you'd expect). You've settled down quite a bit since you first showed up at his house, finding it easy to relax around him. He was cute when he got competitive, not like you were much of a competition in these games... but it was nice to see him like this.

The scrunch of his nose as he focused on the screen. The cute dimples that popped out whenever he won. And how he mindlessly sat close to you, engulfing you in his sweet scent. There was just something about being with Jungkook that made you feel at ease, could someone who made you that comfortable really be as bad as his trash friends?

His shoulder brushes against yours as he settles further into the comfort of his couch, his thumbs moving over the controller quickly. Implementing combo after to defeat your character. In the fourth round of Mortal Kombat and you've only one once.

“Hey! You said you'd let me win,” He's laughing, not even letting your character get up before the large K.O. letters appear on the screen and his person is giving their little victory remark. A dramatic huff leaves your lips, the controller being tossed to the side to cross your arms over your chest.

All he wants to do is lean in and kiss that pout off your lips. Has wanted to kiss you since he beat you in table tennis. You're so pretty and he can't hold back from moving closer to you, guiding your movements just so he can have an excuse to touch you. And he doesn't miss the way you blush. The cute giggles that you let out when he flirts with you. Making him want to flirt with you more just so he can hear the sound.

“I tried,” He speaks through a laugh, taking in the skeptical look on your face. “I did! You're just so bad,” His eyes watch your fingers move around the controller, switching the screen to the character choice.

Gasping when his words sink in, landing dainty punches onto his shoulder. “You're mean! Rematch. I'm not bad,” Jungkook's pressing start on the game as soon as you both have picked your characters, leaning back against the couch as he instantly starts trying out combos on you.

Your whines and protests are cute. It's all he can focus on when he's supposed to be paying attention to the game. And the shout of triumph you let out when you're managing to knock his character down squeezes at his heart, he can't help but turn to look at the smile on your face.

“Look at you losing!” He's sure his health bar is at the end by now, but he can't tear his eyes away from you. In awe, because how could someone actually look like that? So effortlessly... beautiful?

The tip of your tongue poked out the corner of your lips, brows furrowed as you work hard to take him down. So wrapped in the game, you don't even realize that he had stopped playing. It's his luck too, no telling how embarrassed he'd be if he was caught staring. Yet, he can't bring himself to look away.

Not until you're jumping up excited, clapping for yourself and your win. “Did you see that?” Your body is whipping around, forcing a surprised look on his face. Worried that you might've caught the way he had been looking at you. “I just fucking destroyed you! You can't even say that was beginners luck, either.”

You're lifting your hand for a high five, which he's happily giving to you. His smile matching yours as you flop down on the couch beside him, thighs grazing over each other and he feels it in his chest. “Do you want a chance to redeem yourself?”

Not even a minute is spared for him to answer because you're already starting up a new round. He's got his game face on now, shaking himself out of the daze. “Can you believe I just kicked your butt?” There's this taunting look on your face and all he wants to do is lean over and kiss you.

He takes for teasing you instead. Noticing your ridge posture that he had commented on in your picture. “I don't know how,” A large hand reaches over to touch your back, your body automatically leaning into his touch. “Your form is all off, it had to be luck.” Just a bit of pressure is applying to your back and you're slouching forward.

With a laugh, you're rolling your eyes – reaching a hand back to swat his away. “Watch me beat you like this too. I'll even let you pick my character,” You've been using the same girl since you started playing while he's surfed through the entire catalog. He's taking you up on the offer, picking one of the bulkier characters that don't do all the jump moves you seem to love so much.

And you still beat him.

This time distracted by the frustrated rants from you whenever your guy doesn't do what you tell him to. Time runs out and he ends up having less on his health bar and you're taking that as a proper win, lifting your hand for another high five.

Jungkook congratulates you quietly, more so trying to figure out just what was going on inside his chest. He's had girls over before. In much more intimate settings than this... but never has he felt like his heart was about to burst through his chest. This unbearable feeling to be close to you and it's quickly becoming all he can think about.

You're just so pretty. And you look oddly sexy in your sweats. But it's not just that. There's something else that he can't really place that's pulling him to you. Making it hard for him to stop thinking about stupid things like holding your hand or kissing your cheek. Imagining if days like today were the norm and after he'd grow tired of playing games, you'd let him stretch out his head in your lap – playing with his hair.

And it has to be crazy because this was only the first time the two of you were alone. The late-night texts being all he had to back up knowing you, but at the same time, he felt like he knew you. Like he's known you well. He can't describe it either, but he's almost positive that you feel the same.

“Are you hungry? Should we order a pizza?” You've already whipped your phone out, reluctantly putting a bit of space between the two of you as you scroll through your phone. Jungkook is quick to agree, fingers moving over the buttons on the controller to switch the TV.

No idea why he all of a sudden feels so nervous. “Sure,” He's managing to mumble out, but you're not listening. Already putting together a pizza for both of you. “Do you, uhm... do you wanna watch a movie? Something on Netflix?” Your thumb is stilling on the screen at the mention of Netflix.

Yoongi's playful warning ringing loudly in your mind. 'Playing video games was just Netflix and Chill with more steps,'. But there was the chance that he was actually tired of playing games and wanted to watch a movie with you. It didn't have to be that serious, you had been going at it for hours.

“Yeah, go ahead. Pick something.” His body slouches back on the cushions, scanning through the movies halfheartedly before choosing a random one with a really long title. After tapping his fingers against the screen, the neon orange lights in the room are dimming. A comfortable warmth settling around you.

Jungkook watches as you take your time putting the order together. The beginning credits playing on the screen and he's not even paying attention, too busy with his eyes glued to you. “I got meat lovers, you like that, right?” Setting your phone aside, you allow yourself to sink into the comfort of the cushions.

“Mmh, my favorite.” Not a lie. It really was. And the fact that you had chose it without knowing just added to everything about you that made him want to kiss you. A small smile spreads across your lips as you nod, turning your attention to the screen in front of you.

The two of you sit side by side, watching the characters on the screen, but you're not listening. It's hard to hear over the pounding in your chest. The nervous bounce of his leg as if he was waiting for something. And you have no idea what because the pizza is no where near being on its way.

A pretty girl is in an argument with her male lead, something about debt and you're trying your hardest to follow the storyline. Although, you have no idea what this movie is and why he picked it.

It's the thick yawn from beside you that catches your attention, Jungkook's arms lifting over his head in a stretch. You don't think much of it, other than the fact that he's being a little dramatic with his stretch. Until the arm closest to you is dropping down, not at his side like it had been before but around your shoulders – gently tugging your body into his side.

“Did you just do the yawn move on me?” You can't help but laugh. Even through the darkness, you can see the pink tint on his cheeks. “Shh, this is my favorite part.” You're actually positive that he's never seen this movie before, but don't put up a fight. Instead, you let yourself lean into his chest.

He's warm. And smells like flowers. His eyes don't move from the screen as he's reaching down, soft hands reaching for the outside of your knee. Slowly, he's lifting your legs onto his lap, only glancing in your direction briefly to gauge your reaction. Leaning back when there's no sign of you wanting to move.

“Your feet are so small,” Toes curling at the random attention, you're leaning over to reach for his face attempting to pull his focus. “Don't make fun of them! What the heck?” He's laughing loudly at you, allowing you to move his head. Shifting his focus from your feet to his face.

Your fingers are cold against his warm skin, but he can't keep himself from leaning into your touch. “They're cute.” Big eyes scan over your face, smiling softly when they're landing on yours. “You're cute.”

Almost instantly, the atmosphere in the room seems to shift. And you're not sure how he did it, but the way he was looking at you, the soft whisper in his voice... you can't but melt in his strong arms. Basically sat in his lap and it's nice. Jungkook takes his time with inching forward, entering your space which has your hand falling from his face.

He's quick to replace your hand with his one your cheek, tilting your head up toward his. You're sure he's going to kiss you. It's obvious with the slight pucker of his lips, the droop of his eyes, he's tapping a rhythmic beat against your knee ten times faster than the rush of your heart. He was going to kiss you.

Jungkook was going to kiss you and it felt like you couldn't breathe. Nerves on a ten because this wasn't even supposed to be a date. And now you were in this situation and you weren't the least bit unhappy about it. You wanted him to kiss you and it's a new feeling that you don't fully understand. It freaks you out.

Just inches from your lips and your face is twisting up, head jerking back before he can reach you. “What are you doing?” Instantly hating yourself for the embarrassed look on his features that slowly morphs into a puppy dog pout.

“I was going to kiss you...” Jungkook mumbles out sheepishly, dropping his arm from your body to push his hair back. Making an effort to put some space between the two of you, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.

Because in his mind he had done everything right. Had been making you laugh all night, set some type of mood, told you that you were cute. And you seemed to be enjoying yourself... so what was he missing?

“Why would you do that? This isn't a date, Jungkook.” The mantra that you thought you had worked into your head seemed to be slipping. Not sure when you had forgotten what this was supposed to be, but now it was all rushing back to you.

The reasons you had rejected going on an actual date with him in the first place. And the realization of how stupid you were to think that this was a proper substitute for it. No matter what you decided to call it, it didn't erase the fact that this... tonight, with him... felt like a date.

And it wasn't supposed to.

“Do you kiss all the people you just hang out with?” It's wrong to put the blame on him and only him, but you can't help it. You're a mess in your head for a plethora of reasons, because it had been obvious. How he was looking at you, his arm around you, your legs in his lap... everything that you decided to ignore.

But in the same breath, he told you this wasn't a date... so why bother with all sweet shit. Turning movies on for one reason. Maybe you were reading too deep into all of this? Maybe you were overreacting. Jungkook didn't act like his friends when he was with you, maybe he was really different.

“Oh, come on, Yn... are you being serious?” He doesn't look all too embarrassed anymore, just a little bit sad from the rejection. It's fine, though. He'll live. “Dead serious, Jungkook. You got me here saying this wasn't a date. You need to stick to that,” You felt strongly on that part.

You had told him you didn't want to go on a date with him and even though this 'not date' was literally the same thing, he shouldn't act as if you had said yes to a date. Right? He should keep his word, that way things wouldn't get messy. Like right now.

Jungkook seems to put it together in his head, nodding his head in agreement – yet, the pout doesn't leave his lips. “Alright, alright. Fine. My bad,” He's tugging at the rolls of fabric on his sweats, avoiding eye contact with you. Dark hair covering his eyes, all you can really see is the pink of his lower lip.

And you feel bad, even though you know you shouldn't. It's not like you would've hated kissing him. It was just too nerve-racking to think of doing right now. You didn't quite understand it yourself, so there was no way you could go and explain it to him.

Instead, you're extending a finger. Poking the tip of your nail into his knee. “Don't pout. Come on, you'll miss the best part.” Referring to the movie that you're both watching for the first time, but it has a smile pushing onto his lips. His head lifting and gaze shifting onto the TV screen.

“Sorry,” He mumbles out after a moment, but you're not sure if he's apologizing for the almost-kiss or something else. Either way, you're flashing a genuine smile in his direction, lifting a hand to playfully shove at his shoulder. “Don't worry about it. It's fine,”

It really was.

— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you… forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

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ladylynse · 3 years ago

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Dimensional Displacement [FFN | AO3]: Danny has a love-hate relationship with the Fenton Booo-merang. This time, it didn’t do him any favours. This time, it knocked him through a portal—and from what he can glean from the Water Tribe siblings he meets, odds are, there’s a reason for that.

-|-

For @geronimo-alonzi as a thank you for donating to my ko-fi. (Yes, they won my fic giveaway, but I finished this one first.) Loosely based on this three sentence fic.

-|-

Danny had been clobbered in the head by the Fenton Booo-merang more often than he’d like to admit, let alone count, but this was the first time it had knocked him through a portal.

That wouldn’t have been a particularly bad thing if the portal hadn’t immediately closed behind him.

One minute, he’d been minding his own business in the Ghost Zone, coming back from a visit with Frostbite that Jazz must have forgotten about if she’d sent the Booo-merang after him. (Sam was stuck with her parents at some fancy dinner party thing somewhere and Tucker was working on designing a computer game for his comp sci assignment, a class neither Sam nor Danny was in, so it had to have been Jazz.)

The next minute, Danny was…. He didn’t even know where he was. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere. He’d caught the Booo-merang before either he or it had hit the ground, but once he’d righted himself to look around, there was no familiar skyline or something equally useful to him. There were only trees and rocks and dirt roads as far as the eye could see, even from a considerable distance up in the air.

Well.

That wasn’t quite fair. He could see a silver river cutting through the trees in a path roughly parallel to the road, but in terms of helpful things, he was coming up empty.

He didn’t even know which direction he’d need to fly to get to a city. It was too light out to see any distant glow of city lights against the scattered clouds, and all he could smell when he breathed in was fresh air and pine needles and something else—moss? The general mix that was pretty much mulch on the forest floor?—that was decidedly natural, not the signs of human activity he’d been hoping for. Sure, following the road or even the river would get him somewhere sooner or later, but what was he supposed to do, pick a random direction or go eenie meenie minie moe?

Danny did another loop above the trees, looking for some sign of anything, and came up with nothing.

“Come on!” Danny yelled at the patch of blue sky where the portal had closed. He spun in a circle, the Booo-merang clutched tightly in his fist, but it didn’t pull in any direction, and he didn’t catch so much as a glimmer of the familiar green of the Ghost Zone. “Just open up again already!” It was as effective as he’d expected it to be, which was not at all, but screaming out his frustrations made him feel a bit better. “Now! Please?”

Unsurprisingly, the portal didn’t listen.

Out of appealing options, Danny threw the Booo-merang. Logically, he knew it wasn’t the Infi-Map. Logically, he knew that the universe did not often do what was convenient for him, even if he sometimes got incredibly lucky in a fight. Logically, he knew that the chances of the Booo-merang deciding to reprogram itself to find portals just because it had done it this one time (likely coincidentally) were slim to none.

Illogically, he didn’t expect the stupid thing to circle around and hit him in the back of the head again.

Danny cursed and landed to retrieve the fallen Booo-mang from the roadway, muttering under his breath about how much he’d like to just dismantle the thing and hide the pieces. He wouldn’t, of course. It worked too well to risk Sam, Tucker, and Jazz losing the ability to find him if they really needed to. It had been dicey enough the few times his parents had decided to try to ‘fix’ it, only for disaster (Vlad) to strike in the meantime.

That didn’t mean Danny couldn’t fantasize about bashing it against a rock, though. There were plenty of those around.

“That’s a weird looking boomerang,” someone said from behind him, and Danny nearly jumped into the air right there.

He didn’t, mostly because he was getting used to Sam and Tucker trying to surprise him, but it was a near thing.

He wasn’t used to people sneaking up on him. His ghost sense was reliable, Dash made more noise walking around than even Jack Fenton, and, well, most of the people who hunted him couldn’t be subtle if they tried, especially since a good chunk of them liked hearing their own voice. He’d only ever really had to worry about Jazz, and self-preservation in the face of tickle attacks had given him the ability to be extra sensitive to her presence whenever she was in a certain mood.

The two who’d caught him by surprise now must have come from the trees on the other side of the road, and he hoped that meant they hadn’t seen him do anything particularly ghostly. Granted, neither of them was screaming, so he should be safe. They didn’t look terrified, either. Wary, maybe, but not scared.

Danny guessed that they were both somewhere around his age. Siblings, by the looks of them, but probably not twins even if they’d both decided to leave the house wearing oddly styled blue clothes today, at least compared to the usual jeans and T-shirt combo Danny was used to seeing. Unless he wasn’t anywhere near the States anymore? Or unless he’d been flung through to a different time. But the boy had spoken English, and it hadn’t sounded funny to Danny’s ears, no lilt of a foreign accent or strange phrasing that he associated with Shakespeare or something.

The girl was his height, the boy a bit taller, and they were both staring at him.

They probably thought he was the one who was dressed strangely.

The boy pointed. “Your boomerang,” he repeated. “It looks weird.”

The girl elbowed him in the gut—none too gently, judging by his immediate wheeze—and hissed, “Sokka!”

Yeah, those two were definitely siblings. And even if the girl wasn’t older, she definitely had the annoying (and annoyed) sister tone down pat. Danny had heard (and been on the receiving end of) the same from similar exchanges with Jazz more than once.

“Sokka’s going to apologize, right, Sokka?”

The boy frowned and then threw up his hands. “Right. I apologize for saying your boomerang looks weird. It looks interesting.”

The girl stepped on his foot, and he yelped. “What was that for?”

“You know what that was for!”

“It’s fine,” Danny said. He still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Maybe the portal had dumped him out in the middle of some historical re-enactment thing. Granted, there should really be more people around if that were the case—or at least hidden cameras. He was better at spotting them now. Vlad and his creepy spy tendencies aside, Danny had gotten good at noticing (and avoiding) cameras so he didn’t let his secret get caught on tape. (There were a surprising number of places in Amity Park not under video surveillance, or at least not under real video surveillance even if they had fake cameras out; he could practically transform in the middle of the street sometimes.)

Still, nothing about this felt staged. It didn’t even feel like one of his enemy’s tricks, some giant setup that was meant to trap him or whatever. That’s not to say Danny was wholly convinced this meeting, whatever it was, was merely chance—he didn’t particularly trust Clockwork not to arrange things as he saw fit without warning anyone—but it didn’t feel overly contrived, either. There was just….

Something felt off, and he couldn’t explain what it was.

“It’s fine,” Danny repeated, since the two were looking at him dubiously, but the familiar phrase felt strange on his tongue, almost like—

Wait.

“Okay, this is going to sound like a weird question, but where are we?”

The boy, Sokka, blinked. “Did you hit your head or something? We’re in the Earth Kingdom. Or, wait, do you mean where in the Earth Kingdom? Look, if you need new supplies, there’s not much in the last few villages, but we’re about a day from—”

The girl elbowed him again, and he fell silent. Danny could see the growing suspicion on her face for what it was, could see suspicion settling on the boy’s face as well, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he’d asked the wrong question or because he’d asked something at all. He’d been paying attention this time, watching Sokka’s lips, and Danny didn’t have to be a good lip reader to know that he hadn’t been saying the words Danny had heard.

Well.

More accurately, he hadn’t been saying them in English.

And Danny, in answering, had somehow not been speaking English.

That was not, as far as Danny was aware, something Clockwork could do to him.

He didn’t know a ghost who had power over language, though, unless the Ghostwriter had something else up his sleeve and this mess was it. Nocturne would be able to pull anything in a dream, but Danny couldn’t see why he’d bother including something that would be an obvious tell like this, so it shouldn’t be him even if he had decided to come back. More likely, it was someone he hadn’t fought before, someone who had targeted him, seen an opportunity when the Booo-merang had hit him and seized upon it to throw him…here.

Wherever here was.

The Earth Kingdom, apparently.

“Um.” The girl still looked like she expected him to start fighting, and her stance…. Danny didn’t recognize it, but he did know that she looked ready to move at any moment. Her brother had taken her cue and, while Danny hadn’t been paying attention, pulled out a boomerang of his own. That couldn’t be good. “Look. I know how this sounds.” How he sounded, more like. If he had some accent he couldn’t hear because he wasn’t speaking their language properly, whatever it was, this had to be a setup after all.

Someone had sent him here to be dealt with. By this world, this dimension or construct or whatever it was, if not necessarily by these two people.

Granted, Danny wasn’t sure why someone would go to the trouble of letting him understand and be understood in the first place if that were the case, since he could get in just as much trouble without speaking the native language.

Surely he wasn’t actually supposed to help someone here, right? This wasn’t even his world. Or the Ghost Zone. Whatever was going on here was most definitely not his business.

Except now he was in the middle of it, so if there was something going on, it would be beneficial to find out what it was sooner rather than later.

This wasn’t some Jumanji kind of thing where he’d been tossed into a game and had to do whatever it was to get out again, was it? It didn’t feel like the time he’d gone into Doomed, but that had been intentional, and this….

Okay, no, he didn’t have enough information to speculate, which meant he needed to get some information out of these two in order to get somewhere. “I just…. I was kidnapped and dumped here for some reason, and I’m trying to find my way home.” That was close enough to the truth that it shouldn’t raise any red flags. Hopefully. “My name is Danny.” Introducing himself as Phantom, even in ghost mode, wasn’t something he wanted to do when he had no idea how these people felt about ghosts. Besides, it wasn’t like they’d ever see him as Fenton. He just needed to stick to the ground and pretend to be a normal human being, which he could most definitely do—at least when the sun was bright enough that his slight glow was basically nonexistent. He doubted it would be terribly noticeable even under the cover of trees.

“Danny,” the girl repeated, not relaxing her stance. “That’s an unusual name.”

Sokka just cocked his head at Danny. “Why would anyone kidnap you?”

It was spoken like it was an innocent, thoughtless question, something that could be brushed away with a laugh, but Danny could read an underlying tension in each of their faces. Sokka was waiting on his answer, and so was his sister. Danny’s response might very well determine what happened next.

Consequently, Danny didn’t miss the fact that Sokka didn’t offer up any potential explanations that he could jump on.

Another lie wasn’t going to do him any favours, not when he knew so little. “I don’t know.” He could guess, but he didn’t know. From the looks of it, though, these two wouldn’t be satisfied with that. Chances were good they wouldn’t be particularly satisfied with his suspicions, either, which was that someone wanted him out of the way for whatever they were planning—or maybe that someone had decided they wanted to have a little fun with him at his expense, if world domination wasn’t on the table. “My parents are inventors. Maybe that’s why?”

“That doesn’t explain why whoever took you would leave you here,” Sokka pointed out, and Danny wished these two weren’t so smart. “If you were taken because you were valuable, you wouldn’t have been left behind unguarded.”

“So maybe they kidnapped the wrong person and realized that I wasn’t who they wanted?”

Sokka exchanged glances with his sister before murmuring, “We can ask Toph. I mean, it’s possible they found us, but if he is really a Fire Nation plant picked solely for his eye colour, they’d have at least dyed his hair and given him some normal clothes.”

Danny decided not to ask who the heck picked people for something based on eye colour and not skill or merit or experience or something normal like that. Aside from derailing the conversation from anything potentially useful, Danny was pretty sure Sokka hadn’t realized he’d been overheard, and it wouldn’t be in Danny’s best interests to let them know how good his hearing was.

Still, he took the opportunity to tuck away the Booo-merang before they could ask any questions about it that he wasn’t up to answering. Maybe it would make him seem like less of a threat if they didn’t think he was ready to use it as a weapon—not that he knew how to use a boomerang as a weapon, but he was pretty sure Sokka hadn’t pulled his out to see which of them could throw it farther or throw it properly—and maybe then they’d trust him enough to answer his questions. Hopefully. He was perfectly willing to meet this Toph if it meant figuring out where he was and how to get home, especially since it would be easy enough for him to cut and run later.

The movement was enough to draw the attention of the siblings, though, and both pairs of eyebrows rose. Had they not expected him to make what he hoped would be taken as a gesture of trust or were they wondering how the heck he’d gotten it into his pocket? Maybe they thought he was trying to hide it, which wouldn’t help matters at all. Then again, if they thought that he thought it had been a subtle move, then maybe—

No.

He had to stop doing this. He didn’t know enough about these two to try to guess their thoughts, let alone what actions they might take against him.

Danny shifted on his feet, glad they hadn’t jumped to attacking and that they weren’t even asking questions about the Booo-merang, since practically anything about it would be difficult to answer. At least they hadn’t seen him flying. Even for people familiar with ghosts, unknown ones tended to be cause for concern until their threat level was assessed, and Danny didn’t want to invite trouble and immediately find out what this world had that messed with ghosts. Sure, he wanted to know what could hurt him here, but finding out while it wasn’t actively being used against him was infinitely preferable.

“Where did you say you were from?” the girl asked after a beat, even though they all knew he’d never said anything about that.

“Nowhere you would know,” he hedged, which was true enough.

“We travel a lot,” the girl said, and her brother snorted.

“What Katara means is, try us. If we can help you get back to your family, what do you have to lose?” Sokka offered Danny a grin, and his stance had visibly relaxed, even if he hadn’t put his boomerang away. It might be just for show, especially since he still had a weapon out, but at least the girl hadn’t drawn any knives or something like that. “Look, from one guy to another, you don’t need to make up some crazy story if you’re a runaway or something like that. We’re basically runaways.”

“We’re running towards something, not away from it.”

“We were almost runaways.” To Danny, Sokka added, “Gran caught us, but she let us go.”

Katara rolled her eyes, and Danny looked between the two of them as Sokka continued talking. It was obvious that they’d changed tack for some reason, no doubt trying to get him to trust them, but the blatant switch made him uneasy. Did they not realize how obvious that was or was this just their usual dynamic?

“I’m from Amity,” Danny eventually interrupted. He knew from the way that they were looking at him that neither of them had forgotten he had yet to answer the question. He’d already told them they wouldn’t know the place, so technically he could’ve said Amity Park, but for all he knew, these two had been sent to get information out of him, and the less he told a potential enemy, the better.

Come to think of it, maybe he shouldn’t have told them his real name, and maybe he should’ve just made up a village name rather than dropping heavy hints about his hometown.

“Which is near—?”

Danny ignored Sokka’s prompt. He didn’t even have a good enough idea of the geography of this place to make that up, especially when there was a chance they knew the area, runaways or no. “Do you know where I could get some water? I haven’t found any since I woke up.” That wasn’t true, but they wouldn’t know that unless they were getting some more intel about him from someone unseen.

The siblings looked at each other again, and then Katara faced him and said, “We’re headed to the river. Come with us. You can get your water, and we can share our catch if we get anything.”

“Wait, I didn’t agree to share my meat!” Sokka exclaimed. Katara’s only answer was a dirty look, but it was enough to have Sokka subsiding into grumbles.

“I’m not hungry yet,” Danny said, which also strictly wasn’t true, but he knew he didn’t need to eat much.

“You might be hungry by the time we’re finished,” Katara said over Sokka’s griping.

Danny hesitated, trying to figure out how weird it would be if he made up some excuse not to go with them. What were the chances that this was a trap when he’d brought up the river—or at least water—before they had? It wasn’t that he thought they’d be able to take him out if it came to that, even if Jazz had more experience fighting normally than he did, since he typically relied a lot on his powers when he could.

These two might be better fighters than him—there were almost certainly better hunters, given how silently they could walk—but he’d always have something like intangibility in his back pocket if it came to it, and they wouldn’t. Still, when it came down to it, he wasn’t used to fighting humans. What if he didn’t pull his punches enough and seriously hurt one of them?

“You can tell us about Amity,” Katara added. “We’ve never been there.”

Danny really hoped that was true and that there wasn’t a place in this world called Amity that they knew well. Still, when they started walking, spreading out so he was always in sight and they never had their backs to him, even when they hit the trees on the other side of the road, he kept pace with them. “It’s pretty much like you’d expect.” Except for the ghosts. At least his ghost sense hadn’t gone off here. Yet. “This is probably the farthest I’ve ever travelled from home.” He couldn’t get much farther away than a completely different dimension that (probably) wasn’t as connected to his world as it was to the Ghost Zone, anyway—unless he counted when he’d time travelled, but he wasn’t about to bring that up.

Katara opened her mouth to ask another question, maybe to press him for details, so Danny cut her off. “What about you two?”

They looked at each other again. How many times were they going to do that? Hadn’t they already decided how far to trust him? Danny knew it wasn’t very far, but they’d clearly decided he wasn’t going to straight up attack them at this precise moment, so even if they didn’t tell him the whole truth—

Sokka gestured at their clothes. “We’re Water Tribe.”

He said it like it was obvious, like Danny should’ve known already, but of course it explained absolutely nothing.

“Southern Water Tribe,” Katara added unhelpfully, despite Sokka’s frown. “We wanted to see the world, and now we are.”

As cover stories went, it was better than Danny’s. Barely. “Right,” he said, wondering again why he’d been dumped in the path of these two. “It’s a nice world to see.”

Somehow, that was the wrong thing to say, because they were both looking at him like they’d expected him to say anything but that. “What?”

“There’s a war on, you’re supposedly kidnapped and dropped off somewhere in occupied territory without any of the proper paperwork, and the best you can come up with is it’s a nice world to see?” Sokka turned his incredulous look from Danny to Katara. “He cannot be Fire Nation. This kid is more sheltered than Toph was supposed to be.”

Danny, who had stumbled at the word war, kept walking and hoped they hadn’t noticed. If they had, maybe they’d think he’d tripped over a tree root or fallen branch or hole or something. They weren’t following a trail, so that was a perfectly reasonable explanation, right?

“It’s all right,” Katara said as she reached out to touch his arm, and, okay, from that gentle tone, which was a complete change from anything earlier, it must mean she had noticed, knew he hadn’t tripped over anything in the terrain, and—from how she was looking at him now—thought it wasn’t surprise that had tripped Danny up, either. “Trust me, I know what it’s like to be a little naïve until you have a chance to leave home for the first time, but unless you’re got a camp around here, you’re not prepared at all.”

Sokka finally put his boomerang away and smirked at Danny. “We at least left home with supplies.”

“Did you have to run without any warning?” Katara asked, giving her brother a pointed look.

“Oh, uh, kinda.” Danny winced, knowing that had to sound like a lie. “I…I didn’t really plan on leaving when I did. This just…happened.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow, but Katara said, “You don’t have to worry. We’re the last people who would turn you in to the Fire Nation.”

Right. So the Fire Nation were the bad guys, at least according to the Water Tribe and, if he was putting things together correctly, the Earth Kingdom, where they were. Meaning the Fire Nation had invaded the Earth Kingdom if this was occupied territory. Danny thought about asking why these two had come into occupied territory themselves and then decided he didn’t want to risk getting into a discussion that would show off how little he knew. If they had decided he was a runaway who knew practically nothing about the world, well, that worked in his favour.

“Thanks.” Danny wasn’t sure what else to say. “Why are you helping me, though? Won’t that put you in danger?” That had to be a fair question in this situation.

“We can’t help everyone,” Katara said quietly, “but we can help some people, even if it’s just a tiny bit. Sometimes, that has to be enough.”

Danny really didn’t know what to say to that, because she certainly wouldn’t understand if he said he knew the feeling, so he smiled weakly in thanks and let the conversation drop.

They were still watching him, but they were more subtle about it now, and it didn’t look like they were watching him more closely than they were watching everything else.

Being downgraded from a threat was a win, though. Danny hoped he didn’t do anything to mess it up.

“There’s no shame in being a refugee,” Sokka said after a moment. “Being from a richer family might’ve bought you an isolated childhood, but it wouldn’t guarantee your safety.”

“We won’t try to hold you for ransom if you tell us where you’re really from,” added Katara.

Danny glanced at her. “I said I was from Amity.”

“I could say I have a platypus bear as a pet,” Sokka interjected. “That doesn’t make it true.”

“We know what it’s like, thinking you understand the way things are and then realizing how little you know,” Katara said quietly. “It can be overwhelming.”

“And it would explain why you’re in your nightclothes,” Sokka said. He’d come in range of Katara’s fist, but he danced out of the way as she swung in his direction. He hadn’t even needed to look at her to know it was coming. “You didn’t know enough to keep your valuables hidden and got robbed your first night on your own, didn’t you?”

“I—” Danny knew it was an excuse for his ignorance being handed to him on a silver platter, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep up with a lie like that when he knew so little. “These aren’t my pajamas,” he said instead. Let them believe what they wanted to believe; that would make his life easier. Even if it blew up in his face somehow, he could truthfully say he’d never said they were right.

They might be suspicious that he hadn’t outright denied it, but then again, he’d already told them something a lot closer to the truth.

“Uh huh.” Sokka glanced at Katara again, and she gave a slight shake her head that Danny didn’t understand.

“Let’s get you some food and water first,” Katara said. “Then we can see about finding you other supplies.”

Danny decided not to point out that they’d already told him it was slim pickings for supplies around here. Not that he had the money to pay for anything, but Sokka had already guessed that. Besides, they thought he was running around in his pjs.

Judging by the sour look on Sokka’s face, he’d evidently translated his sister’s words to mean that she wanted to give him some of their supplies, something Sokka clearly wasn’t sure he approved of.

Katara must have had similar thoughts on Sokka’s expression, since she murmured, “It’s this or bring him with us, and you know what’s safer.”

Katara might not have minded that Danny could overhear her last words, but Sokka closed the distance between them, pulling his sister farther away from Danny before hissing, “It’s not the only option, and you know it. We can’t afford to give away any of our supplies, and just because Toph can make sure he’s not coming in with the intention of stabbing us in the back, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t blab to anyone once he figures out who we’re travelling with. You know as well as I do that that wouldn’t take very long.”

“He’s just kid.”

“Technically, like Aang keeps reminding us, we’re just kids. Who very much cannot afford to so much as drop him off in the next village. Show him the river and teach him how to catch and cook his meals? Fine. Picking him up as a stray when he’s not bringing anything to the table? Not fine.”

“He’s lost.”

“So? He’s not hurt. He’s already in a better position than some refugees. He’ll survive until he can walk to the nearest settlement. Then he can try to get help from people who can actually give it.”

Katara bit her lip and slowed to a stop. “There’s something else.”

“What?”

Danny very much wanted to know the answer to that—what had Katara figured out?—but he tried not to react so they didn’t know he’d been listening in. He deliberately turned away and stared around the trees instead, a mix of deciduous and evergreen. He couldn’t pick out any specific types of trees—nothing distinctive like oak leaves that he could see—and, as far as he could tell, the woods were utterly devoid of critters. He had no idea if that was because this world wasn’t real or if it was simply because all the animals in the region had had warning of their coming and hidden accordingly.

Danny knew his disinterest wouldn’t be very convincing, but if he was lucky, they’d think he’d given up on trying to eavesdrop.

“There’s something…off about him. Not necessarily something wrong, but something different. I can’t…. When he asked about water, I wanted to make sure he wasn’t hiding any on him or nearby in case it was a trap, and— He didn’t feel the same as you or me. I can’t explain it. Toph might have a better idea than I do. Or…or Aang.” The last word was a barely audible whisper.

“You think this might be a spirit thing?” Sokka’s response was closer to a suppressed shriek than anything else, and Danny winced.

“I think he might be spirit touched,” Katara answered, and Sokka’s sharp inhalation was painfully audible. “I wasn’t good enough back then to notice anything about Yue, but—”

“Fine.” Sokka’s voice had gone flat. “I don’t want to shun someone and accidentally anger the spirits. I’ll teach him to fish. You go back and interrupt advanced earthbending practice and pick a meeting place, but make sure everyone’s packed in case this doesn’t go the way you think it’ll go.”

“I know to be careful.”

“We all know to be careful. Some of us just need more reminding than others.”

Katara didn’t say anything else, but she must have nodded or done something similar because Danny heard Sokka stalk back over to him. “Katara’s going back to talk to the rest of our group about what we might be able to spare,” he said as Danny turned back to face him, “and I’ll show you how to fish in the meantime. If you don’t catch anything, I’ll give you one of mine.”

Danny wasn’t about to admit that he’d overheard their entire conversation, so he smiled and said, “That sounds great, thanks.” It didn’t stop the uneasiness from settling in his gut, though. Sure, now he knew these people believed in ghosts, and Sokka’s response made it clear he didn’t want to get on their bad side, but Danny had no idea what being spirit touched meant. He didn’t know if that was seen as a good thing or a bad thing.

More to the point, if it was a bad thing, he didn’t know if these people had something suitable with which to attack spirit touched people, since if they did, chances were good that it would work on him.

He was not lucky enough to get a free pass here.

Still, the odds were good that he’d be able to escape if they did attack since he’d know to be on watch for something, and he wasn’t about to turn down an offer of food. He had no idea when a portal would open and he’d be able to go home. Until then, the best he could do was survive.

He’d survived this much, and his life had hardly been a walk in the park since the accident, let alone before. He wasn’t about to let some ghost fling him into an unknown world and succeed in taking him down. He needed to get out of this to kick their butt and prove to them that they couldn’t get rid of him that easily.

Assuming this wasn’t all a series of genuine coincidences and not the result of the careful manipulation of events.

Danny didn’t want to think about that, though.

He had a much better chance of getting home if there was someone he could beat, and he was going to get home.

Somehow.

(see more fics)

#danny phantom #atla #avatar the last airbender #danny fenton #sokka #katara #crossover #fanfiction #dp fanfiction #atla fanfiction #my writing #ladylynse #snippets #crossover snippet #geronimo-alonzi

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restapesta · 3 years ago

Note

them playing truth or dare

Tami had been the one to suggest it.

Ian found it weird that everybody just went along, minds still sane and all, eager to comply and play as if they weren't all full-blown adults with marriages and children; but a few beers in—sans Lip who was sporting a Diet Coke—maybe it shouldn't have been that big of a surprise; the kids were otherwise occupied, Liam was at a sleepover, the Gallagher house was free for them, and them only.

Maybe Ian shouldn't have balked at his husband who had enthusiastically said yes! to playing truth or dare, as if they were all a bunch of teenage girls, begging for their crushes to be revealed. Ian watched Mickey from the corner of his eye as he took a shot of vodka that had been haphazardly lying on the table for communal use—great, Ian would be getting drunk Mick tonight. They'd probably have to crash at the house. Even Ian had a beer to drink and he got hammered pretty fucking quick.

"Okay," Tami said loudly, shushing the small crowd of people who were sitting all around the living room, speaking in a frenzy, voices mushing in together so it wasn't even conversation, just fucking loud and incoherent. Her hair was clinging wildly to her sweaty forehead, strands flying around as if electrocuted, and Ian realized this was the first time after her second pregnancy she was able to really get drunk. He applauded her for it, hoping she was having a great fucking time. Over a year of abstinence and he'd go fucking crazy, probably.

Ian couldn't help but guiltily look at his brother from the corner of his eye as if he'd been able to read his thoughts. He only looked away once Mickey elbowed him, whispering lowly how Ian should probably slow down with the drinks. Wouldn't want you to faint in ten fucking minutes and need me to drag you back home, said the man that was drunk off his ass.

Even inebriated he worried.

"Hey!" Tami shouted until all eyes went to her and the voices drowned out, dissipating into murmurs, one of them being Ian telling his husband that, it was so cute you're worrying about me, earning himself a middle finger in the face. She continued, seemingly pleased with herself for shutting a bunch of Gallaghers up, a feat not easily accomplished (what she didn't know was that everybody was still talking, just discreetly enough for her to not hear).

"Since I was the one who came up with the idea," She said proudly as if playing truth or dare was the smartest, coolest idea ever. "I think I should have the honors of starting."

Lip snorted beside her, a small smile playing on his lips. "You're drunk but okay." His head was shaved off completely, prompted by lice Fred had brought back home from day-care.

They were both sitting on two cushions on the floor, leaving Debbie on the sofa near the door, and Carl on the couch next to Ian and Mickey. His Coke can was so close to his leg, just begging to be spilled. Ian fought the urge to tell him to just move it to the side, but well, everybody else was practically drunk, so it didn't seem too fair. He was forced to endure a bunch of assholes while sober; the least they could do was offer him more Cokes and leave him to ruin his stomach in peace while they all ruined their livers.

"Shush!" Tami swatted at him, a concentrated look on her face. "We're playing."

Lip raised his hands in surrender just as Ian turned to whisper into Mickey's ear, "This is gonna be a shit show."

It was Mickey's turn to shush Ian, swatting him gently on the arm, focus solely on Tami and her upcoming question. He looked genuinely interested in what Tami had to ask—maybe he was looking forward to some juicy questions. Ian thought she'd be the one to ask the blandest ones.

"We're playing," Mickey said once Ian leaned in again to tell him just that, and Ian just shook his head lightly, biting his lip to stop from smiling.

Tami moved her eyes from her boyfriend all the way to Debbie who was fucking around on her phone, typing away slowly. Ian knew she was paying attention, but he also knew that her new girlfriend and their "relationship problems" probably exceeded the game right now.

"You ready, Debbie?" She asked, eyes dropping in sympathy. "This first one's for you. You said you needed to get your mind off of things."

Debbie lifted her eyes from her phone, eyebrows going up, biting her lip. She shut the screen off and crossed her legs, nodding to herself. "Shoot."

"Okay, so—"

"—What’s the most embarrassing thing that turns you on?"

Lip groaned along with Ian at the question. It didn't matter if they all knew everything and anything about each other's sex lives—Debbie talked about hers in a way that not even Ian and Mickey do. So Ian just squirmed in his seat, grimacing and then shooting a glare towards his husband who snickered at his facial expression, and they all sat and waited for their sister to start talking about sex as if they were begging to hear about it. Ian was mentally preparing for having his ears bleed.

"Hmm," She said. "Probably thighs."

They collectively blew out grateful breaths that she didn't feel the need to explain her answer. Ian still squirmed, because, well—why the fuck did he need to have that in common with his little sister?

"Carl," Debbie said, fiddling with her phone again. She probably got a new message she would need to send a ten-paragraph rant over. "What's the worst thing about sex, in your opinion?"

Ian eyed Carl beside him as he shrugged. "Not getting any."

It was Mickey who reached over Ian to clap him on the shoulder, grin wide on his face. He really was drunk. "Good answer, kid."

Ian turned to look at him, face scrunching in confusion. They literally had sex before they came over. "What are you talking about? You haven't spent a day in the past, like, four years not get any."

Mickey shrugged, sipping on his beer. "There were times I wasn't gettin' any."

Ian rolled his eyes. He knew Mickey inside, out—that man always got some, whether it be with Ian or without. So he asked, "When?"

Mickey looked at him, eyes clearer than before, still drunk but sober enough to answer Ian's question earnestly.

He cleared his throat, then sucked on his teeth when he saw Ian really was looking for an answer.

When the fuck did Mickey ever do celibacy shit?

"Look, man," He said. "sex," He annunciated the word. "isn't really the same when it's not with the person you want it to be with. It's weird and mechanical, and knowing what sex you could be having instead of the robotic fucking makes you hate it." He looked over at Carl. "I get what you mean by not getting any because I hadn't seen Ian for two fucking years before prison, and most of that time I just thought I'd have miserable, loveless sex for the rest of my life, so," He shrugged, again, settling back into the cushions. "Not getting any isn't just not having sex. It's not having sex with the only person you want to have sex with because you'll never see them again for the rest of your life."

"So," Lip started, a teasing air around his words. "Pointless fucking equals not getting any, and lovemaking with Ian here equals you bitches are soulmates?"

Mickey snorted. "Yeah, fuck you."

He then, probably noting how Ian was staring at him, completely flabbergasted, met Ian's eyes.

There was a second of them just staring at one another, Mickey's eyes quickly going up and down Ian's form in the most loving/sexual way, before he averted them to Carl again. "Come on, man, who's next?"

Carl grinned wickedly. "Ian,"

"Yeah?" He finally forced himself to stop staring at Mickey who was now placing his hand soothingly over his thigh, silently saying, You know what I meant. I know you know what I meant.

Carl's question was quick.

"Do you believe you and Mickey are soulmates?"

Ian's right eyebrow went up—he'd been practicing after a heated discussion with Mickey at three am on a Wednesday about who had better eyebrows. He was a sore loser.

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well," Carl said. "You've just broken up more number of times than I've had girlfriends—"

"We've always come back to each other," He interrupted, tone defensive; slightly frustrated. Mickey's hand squeezed, warm through the fabric of Ian's sweats.

"Yeah, but—"

"There's no question about it, Carl. If there's anybody in this world that's literally meant for me, it's Mickey. I've loved him since the very first day I met him, and I'll love him until the day I die." He meant it with every bone in his body and he just wished somebody would put it in question again, after all they had been through. Wasn't that proof fucking enough that if there's anybody in this world Ian loves more than Mickey, it's Mickey loving Ian back?

"That answer' your question?" He asked, chin jutting out.

His hands went up in surrender as he lowly whistled. "Got it, chief."

"Yeah, Ian," Tami said, eyes rolling animatedly. "We get it—you love each other most in the world, blah, blah, barf."

Mickey choked out a laugh. "Come on, Red," He said, looking again towards Ian, gaze soft. "Next question."

So they played on.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless us #fan fic #*ficlet #this was supposed to be longer but i decided to cut it off here because i felt like adding to it would make it drag #first thing i've written in a month #had no school today so i just spent seven fucking hours studying #pleaseeee recommend some good fucking fics in my inbox. i need some shit to read tonight. tyyyyyyy #ficlet #emina answers

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puredramione · 4 years ago

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My 2020 Reading List - Dramione

This year, I’ve read way more dramione than I’ve ever read, and I’ve been reading it for 7 years now. I even read things, tropes, I had never bothered with before. 2020 may not have been a kind year, but in the dramione community it has been a wonderful year of reading for me. Please be aware I may spoil some plot lines to dramione fanfictions you haven’t read yet. I have tried not to as best as I can. But anyway below is 20 fics I’ve read this year that have been there for me when I needed them. No particular order. Just a lot of love for these fics.

Wait and Hope - by @mightbewriting - memory loss is one of my favourite tropes but this story. I have never cried over a couch before. But this story. From the moment she first awakes in St Mungo’s to that beautiful ending, I was hooked. I loved how the story left me with not really a care about whether or not Hermione got her memories back. Those bloody text messages 💔 a journey I’ll never forget.

The Unofficial Diary of an Omega - MrsRen - my first time reading anything omegaverse. It still isn’t my favourite trope. I much prefer Veela for some reason 🤷🏻‍♀️ but overall it was a good story, just not my thing.

Apple Pies and Other Amends by ToEatAPeach - I actually gave up on this story the first time I read it. Unsure as to why because the story as a whole is just amazing. Baking and dramione? Yes please! Also dealing with their psychological trauma after the war? Heck yes! The relationship in this story develops at a lovely pace. There were moments I was on edge, others I was smiling ear to ear whilst reading this. Definitely one of my favourites now.

In Search Of Sunrise - @indreamsink - actually just reread this and I still get that warm feeling in my chest. So turns out my break up hasn’t made me lose the ability to enjoy dramione falling for each other. Anyway, the story was so heartwarming, like if I were to describe it as anything I would describe it as a hug. The best non-date fic there is.

Sex and Occlumency - Graendoll - this was the start of my slippery slope into reading smut stories. Like I had read smut before, obviously but I didn’t pay it much attention, normally just swiped past 😂 but this one was a completely different story.

Manacled - @senlinyu - this is truly the most beautifully haunting story I’ve ever read. I remember when I first started reading it, I thought to myself, how the hell could I ever ship dramione in this world? Then those flashbacks. Fuck those flashback chapters were a punch in the gut. The way everything links and connects. I love it’s realistic ending. I often think of this story in the shower cause I had to force myself to go shower whilst I read this cause I honestly couldn’t put it down. And SPOILER, but I laughed so hard at a certain characters death even though I probably shouldn’t have but she was such a bitch. I get flashbacks myself of this story. I’ll be in the shower and I’ll remember a certain sentence, a certain scene in my head as if I truly walked with Hermione on this heart wrenching journey. But fuck manacled Harry, I hate that boy.

He Becomes by @abromaposts - I needed this story. This was the first thing I read after Manacled. Draco Malfoy looking after rabbits with the sole reason being to get close to Hermione, yes please. Rabbits are my favourite animals. It’s just so much fluff. And after Manacled I was grateful.

The Right Thing To Do - @lovesbitca8 - this was the bookshop, slow burn, fluffiness I needed in the summer. The start of a truly wonderful universe. Idiots in love, I’ve never went through so much second hand embarrassment. Every interaction between Hermione and Lucius was fantastic. Especially the final one! Every character was written to a way that I loved them so much. Plus this story makes you think (like the rest of the series) it doesn’t spoon fed you information.

All The Wrong Things - @lovesbitca8 - I never thought I’d be into first person POV. The last thing I read like that was The Hunger Games back in school, many years ago. But I truly felt as if Draco were telling me the story. I love how it filled in things we never seen in the first story. I love Draco’s characterisation. Unlike TRTTD, this feels more lighthearted. Could just be the horny Draco though and his dramatics?

The Auction - @lovesbitca8 - this story. where do I start? When I started reading this story I was in a completely different life. This story has seen me through a terrible time in my life. Honestly the last few chapters before the final chapter were a blur and I had to go and reread them cause my head was all over the place but the story. This story, on it’s own, I would say is better than any fiction I’ve ever read 🤷🏻‍♀️ it grips you, pulls you in. Every question you ask, you get answered with a ribbon and bow. I cannot express my love, for this story and for the hard work that has went into it. The characters in this world so vastly different yet similar to the ones we already learned to love. I could write a love letter to this story.

Hindsight by @floorcoaster - if you haven’t been following this year long, monthly updated story, then you’ve really missed out. Each chapter is a month of the year. The story starts with Hermione planning to trim down her calendar for the year ahead. Although it’s fiction it gave me a sense of hope for my future. I had started this year on a different note than Hermione, and I’m now ending it on a different note as well. I think this story does a good job of capturing the passage of time and just how quickly things can change. I also really love these adorable idiots in this story.

Bring Him To His Knees by @willhavetheirtrinkets (WIP) - the best co-worker, friends to lovers, fake relationship story I’ve read. No question. I sent @magicaltraveler3 a tearful voice memo after that last chapter that was posted (chapter 20). It isn’t the first time I’ve cried at a fanfic, but it is the first time that I predicted something bad would happen, but I didn’t expect the bad thing to be what it was. I can’t wait to see where this story goes. At this point I have completely forgot about the murder plot. I know it exists, and we’ll get back to the murder but I’d honestly read the characters in this story eating breakfast.

The Flat In Bath by @adaprix (WIP) - this was the first story I got into that ada has wrote. Instantly I was fascinated with the use of “flat” over “apartment”. Being Scottish I knew this was someone British. Anyway, a very interesting story and I can’t wait to see how the rest of it plays out.

Good by @lovesbitca8 - I am dying for the update of this story. As so many are, it is 🔥🔥🔥 all I can say. I can’t wait for the update!

The Erised Effect by @adaprix - When ada first told me she was thinking about writing a story about Pansy and Hermione working in a sex shop together. Telling me about having the idea of them meeting in the pub and how she “needed to get some filthy smut out of your system”. I didn’t think it would be my thing. Boy, did she prove me wrong!

The Cell by WrathOfMacy - I don’t know how I came to read this one. But damn, this was a good one (who am I kidding they’re all good ones). I’m still reading through it though. It’s a warfic in which Dramione end up locked in a cell together. The relationship builds nicely. I cannot wait to read more of it.

The Melody Of Touch by @magicaltraveler3 - I never knew I needed a dramione story like this story. I love that there is so much musical imagery incorporated into it. I haven’t read anything like it before. The story, the smut, the taxi and the freaking art work. It is everything!

Every Day, a Little Death by @lovesbitca8 - I’ll be honest with this one. I read the first chapter and the last chapter 🙈 BUT only cause everyone scared me so much. I plan to revisit. SPOILER. I may not care too much that Hermione cheated. Just me? Like yeah I hate cheating and she shouldn’t have done it, but like she admitted to it, and was very regretful for it. Anyway, the chapters I read were very interesting I look forward to revisiting it sometime.

Away by @indreamsink - written for the romcom fest and I got to say I think this one may be my favourite from the fest. Not only do you get dramione but you get the amazing side pairing of Harry/Pansy, which this year has really became my favourite side pairing. It’s like reading two love stories at once, I was interested in the dramione plot line obviously, but I was equally interested in the hansy/potts&pans plot line.

The Path Unexpected by @magicaltraveler3 - this story is a cute little domestic dramione fanfic. And I lived for it. It shows dramione going through the process of having a child and honestly, they’re so damn cute in this fic. The fanart is next level also!

#my 2020 reading list #personal #dramione #dhr #hermione x draco #draco and hermione #d/hr #draco x hermione #fanfiction #draco malfoy #hermione granger #hermione and draco #fanfics #dhr fanfics #2020 reads #reading list part 1 #2020 was crap but I had dramione #dramione writers are the best writers #my thoughts

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astrella-writes · 4 years ago

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prompt | anonymous asked: Could I get some general relationship headcanons (with some fluff please!) for Chishiya, Arisu, and Kuina 🥺👉👈 let me know if you need a more specific ask! :)

warnings | written with the intention of female pronouns but can be read as gender neutral, very minor suggestive implications, mentions of alcohol, nicotine and eating habits, might be considered kinda cheesy oops, the use of the pet name ‘bunny’.

word count | 1.4K

author’s note | ‘m loving this request. this is written with the intention of it being pre-borderlands.

Shuntarō Chishiya

- Frequenting local cafes for routinely study dates. He helps you with topics that you may struggle on and you buy him the bizarre flavored ‘treat of the week’ as a thank you. He jokes around that you’re probably using him as a test subject, because who would order sweet potato brownies with the premise that they would taste good. Much to his surprise, they actually do.

- Visiting a cat cafe once, but not getting around to completing any work. The image of Chishiya cradling a fluffy kitten close to his chest and holding softened eye contact with it is now your permanent lock screen. He has a matching lock screen of you holding a kitten from under the armpits and touching noses with it.

- Learning new skills together. Chishiya is pretty much down for anything that he considers interesting enough. That’s how you ended up frustratingly trying to follow along to a complex origami cat tutorial at 2 in the morning as Chishiya worked quietly with his earbuds in, listening to a different tutorial. Only once he presented you with a perfect paper flower did you smile for the first time in the past hour, the frustration dissipating. That very flower has claimed its indefinite place on your bedside table, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

- Doing escape rooms together every so often. It baffles you to some degree how he figures things out so easily, but then again, you’ve known how smart your boyfriend was since the day you met so it shouldn’t really come as a surprise. You just can’t help but admire him, and voice these admirations out loud. Your compliments being the only ones which truly affect him.

- Despite how genius your boyfriend is, you remain concerned about the mental toll college might have on him. If he is stressed, he barely gives it away, but you’ve grown to read through his indifference and pick up when something is wrong - even if he’s attempting to hide it for your disburden. You allow him to de-stress in your arms, playing with the tips of his hair and speaking through what has got him so troubled.

- Late night dates that consist of trips to the corner store where you buy your favourite snacks and walk down to the beach together. It’s a relaxing way to wind down after a stressful week filled with work and college. If it’s not too cold that night, you substitute sitting on your usual bench for a stroll along the sand. If he finds a pretty seashell, Chishiya will give it to you wordlessly.

- He buys you a lot of small things that reminds him of you. A cute keychain he found by chance while buying groceries, splurging his money on a random claw machine because he spotted a plushie character from that show you really like, buying your favourite snacks to calm you down before a big exam that you’ve been studying really hard for. It’s the little things that show how much he really loves you.

Ryōhei Arisu

- Offering him a place to stay for a few days if he needs a break from his family, Arisu will pack up his gaming laptop along with him and you two will game with each other side by side. He anticipates the moment you rest your head on his shoulder and once you do, he rests his own head upon yours with a small: “you tired, bunny?”

- Being extremely supporting and non-judgemental on the topic of him getting a job. You search listings almost daily and send any promising ones through to him, leaving an encouraging message afterwards in hopes he gets the right intention. You care for him deeply and don’t want to see his father eventually kicking him out the house for being unemployed and making the situation ten times more difficult for him.

- Helping him get out more and introducing him to places he quickly grows to love. A quaint coffee shop with a grassy roof hidden deep within the cracks that he never would have found if it weren’t for you. It’s become your usual spot for dates, and Arisu enjoys the tranquility of it all.

- Going on trips to the game store together, even though Arisu usually just buys all his games online, and he’s pretty sure you do too. Regardless, it’s an excuse to meet up and hang out for a few hours after, something he’s found has become more enthralling than gaming.

- Staying up on video call into the late hours of the night as you both battle it out on some mmorpg. You’re confused when you see his idle avatar and look over at your phone screen to find him staring at you in a trance. It catches you off guard at first, but seeing him snap back to reality upon getting caught and getting all flustered left you replaying the scene over in your head for days later.

- Dates to the arcade, because of course. You two definitely hog a specific game with a line of pouting children waiting impatiently to get their chance. Arisu only agrees to move on when you mention a new game you spotted earlier. There is no new game, you just feel bad for the kids. Once he’s caught on, you merely give his lips a quick peck and you’re instantly forgiven.

- Playing in one of those immersive game machines with the curtains on both sides, only for Arisu to stare at you dumbly, leaving you a flustered and confused mess. This usually leads to a one-sided lean in and a small make out, only for an innocent kid to pull back the curtain and run away mortified. Their screams are the highlight of your boyfriend’s day, and you swear he’s holding some mental record of how many kids he traumatize through doing this.

Hikari Kuina

- Working at the same clothing store and having Kuina intervene whenever you’re faced with a rude customer. She might not be all too friendly if they insulted you, and if getting fired is the cost of standing up for you, then so be it. You’d quit alongside her and find some place new to work.

- Helping tend to her sickly mother in hospital, whom you had made speechless upon your first visit. She was delightfully thrilled upon finally being introduced to her daughter’s significant other, Kuina sharing to you afterwards that she hadn’t seen her mother smiling so brightly in a long time. You always present her mother with gifts upon each visit, whether it be flowers or a small cake. She’s become like your own mother, and so you help pay towards hospital bills as well.

- Comforting Kuina if she ever gets upset about her past (especially her relationship with her father) or her mother’s current poor health. You make her feel so valid; it leaves her a sobbing mess in your arms as you comfort her with soothing strokes and affectionate mumbles. Once her wailing has calmed, you offer to make her favourite - hot chocolate topped with cream.

- Constant sleepovers, which include wearing face masks, ordering takeout, watching some sappy romance before switching it over to an action movie and sipping on some cheap beer. The buzz of the alcohol always makes you more daring as you suggest showering together, and you’re never turned down by your equally audacious girlfriend.

- Helping her overcome her nicotine addiction and being the initial person to suggest chewing on a dummy cigarette whenever she felt the urge to smoke. Her mother couldn’t thank you enough for getting her into this, expressing her hidden fear of having to watch Kuina smoke herself into ill health or worse, a premature grave.

- In return, she looks out for your own well-being: reaching out to hold your hand before you both cross the street, showing up with lunch the next day at work if she thinks you haven’t been eating as much lately, keeping headache pills in her bag ever since you complained about a migraine that one time, keeping an extra umbrella in the break room just in case it rains later that day and you’ll need one.

- It’s never a dull moment dating Kuina, always planning fun and exciting dates like getting drunk in a private karaoke room only for it to lead to sloppy make outs. The one time she was so insistent on riding the kiddies train at the amusement park, only for the both of you to fall off once you reached the sharp bend in the tracks. It left you both a giggling mess, but the pain afterwards definitely made the whole situation regrettable.

#chishiya x reader #arisu x reader #kuina x reader #alice in borderland #alice in borderland x reader #aib fanfic #aib scenarios #chishiya shuntaro #ryohei arisu #hikari kuina #chishiya shuntaro x reader #alice in borderland imagines #chishiya

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stardusttkachuk · 4 years ago

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Need A Hand?

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: smut

Warnings: swearing, masturbation, fingering, oral (female receiving), some voyerism, little bit of dom/sub tendencies

Summary: @maybanktho posted a list of JJ concepts they’re too lazy to write so I took it upon myself to write walking in on JJ 🤜🏼🥩 & helping him out. So that’s what this is.

Taglist at bottom of fic. If you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics please send me an ask or a message!

Waking up with morning wood was nothing new to JJ. Usually he’ll lie in bed for a few minutes and check his notifications and that’ll make it go down. And if that doesn’t work, he’ll jump in the shower and it’ll go away when the cold water hits him. Neither of those things worked today so there he was, lying on John B’s spare bed thinking about anything he could to make his boner disappear.

It refused.

Even when John B rapped hard on his door and scared the crap out of him, it was still present, still straining against his boxers and shorts that he had messily stuffed himself into after his shower.

“Yo!” John B yells and knocks again.

“Bro, it’s unlocked,” JJ yells back.

John B turns the handle and pushes the door open, finding JJ curled up in bed and under the covers still. He squints, trying to figure out why he’s still in bed.

“Not feeling good,” JJ lies. Really he’s just in bed and under the covers until this stupid fucking boner goes away and he can get on with his life.

“Ah. Well, Sarah’s parents are at work so I’m leaving.”

And JJ swears his heart skips a beat. John B is leaving which means he’s here all by himself. He could cry at the thought of being able to get himself off and get rid of his morning wood, if you could even call it that anymore as it was well past when he originally had woken up.

“How long are you gonna be gone?”

“I dunno,” John B sounds annoyed at the question. “Just lock up if you go anywhere and I’m not back.”

“Okay. Hey! Use protection,” JJ yells after him as John B walks out. He doesn’t close the door all the way and JJ gets a middle finger on the way out, but he doesn’t pay any attention to it, the middle finger or the slightly ajar door.

He’s already throbbing, thinking about how he can’t wait to touch himself, how good it’s gonna feel to get off. He waits until the screen door slams shut and he can hear John B’s van start up and pull off the dirt lot.

JJ kicks the covers off himself, overheating under them. He lets himself moan as he palms himself through his shorts. He pulls his t-shirt up and bites down on the hem of it as his hands work over his cock, still in its confines.

He lets his thoughts go. And he knows he really shouldn’t let them go to where they are, but soon he’s picturing you kneeling on the bed with him. The smirk in your lips as you watch him as he touches himself, speaking words of encouragement to him. He imagines his hands are yours, soft and gentle compared to his own callused ones. He’s leaking into his boxers at the thought, precum dripping out of the tip of his cock.

He knows he shouldn’t think about you like this. You’re his best friend, have been for years now. And while JJ always thought you were cute, when puberty hit you both JJ went from seeing you as the cute kid in his friend group to this beautiful girl that he pictured himself dating for a while now.

If he only had the guts to make a move.

Instead, he let his thoughts wander to you quite often. Not always in situations like the one he’s in now, sometimes he thinks about taking you to a drive in movie for a date or being able to put his arm around you and kiss you in front of his friends and brag about you being his. But he does think about what it’d be like to have sex with you.

You beneath him as he fucks into you and listens to you beg for more. You riding him with his hands on your hips, aiding in you bouncing on his cock. 69ing with you, his mouth on your pussy and your mouth on his cock, challenging each other to a game of who can last longer.

He can’t wait any more, can’t tease himself and edge himself like he wants to. He lifts his hips enough to get his shorts and boxers off, kicking them down by the end of the bed.

He lets out another loud moan when he fully grasps himself in his hand. He wraps his fingers out the base of his cock with one hand, the other twisting and gliding along his length. His eyes are closed tightly and his head is thrown back as he pictures you.

You kneeling in front of him, mouth open and licking at his tip, collecting the precum that is just leaking out of him like a faucet.

He uses his thumb to collect it, spreading it down his cock as lubrication as he continues his movements, although now he can’t stop picturing your tongue on his dick and how fucking good it’d feel to be buried in your mouth.

His moans are muffled with the t-shirt clenched between his teeth, but he’s still fairly loud.

He doesn’t mean to, but he moans out your name.

And you stop dead in your tracks outside the bedroom door, hearing it.

John B knew about your little crush on JJ. He also knew about JJ’s crush on you, but he wouldn’t tell either of you that the other person liked them, wanting to see if either of you would catch on to each other’s (poor) advances. He texted you when he left, asking you to check up on JJ as he wasn’t feeling well.

And that’s what you were here to do. Except now you can see he clearly is feeling fine. Sexually frustrated, but definitely not sick and you can’t help but stare as he bucks his hips into his fist. You know it’s wrong and that you were absolutely not supposed to walk into this, but there he was, masturbating and moaning your name.

Your face is red but your core is loving the idea and you press your thighs together as your arousal becomes more apparent.

Everything in you screams to walk out the door again and come back later. But how were you going to face him later, knowing what he was doing right now?

You listen to the string of curses he lets out, mixed in with his lewd moans. He’s clearly trying so hard, chasing his orgasm.

“Y/N, fuck. Please,” you hear him beg and the sound goes right to your heat, the dampness in your panties becoming just slightly uncomfortable.

There’s no way he’s seen you. You can’t even see his face, just his lower half. But he’s made it clear he’s thinking about you.

You debate going in there. It’s totally wrong to do so, but it’s probably equally as wrong to stay out here and just listen to him. You almost turn away and run right out of the house but JJ lets out a frustrated huff and you can’t help but peak in on him once again.

He’s still achingly hard. You can see the angry red tip of his dick. His hands are by his sides, fisted in the already messed up sheets.

He’s so desperate and clearly he’s not reaching his release.

“JJ?”

He knows it’s you. He could blindly pick your voice out of a lineup if he had to. His head whips in the direction of the door, now realizing that John B must’ve left it open. He still can’t see you, but he knows you’re out there. His teeth release his t-shirt, but it’s still bunched up at his chest.

“Shit. Fuck. Dammit. How long have you been here?” He’s panting.

You lean your shoulder against the wall, still looking in on him. “Long enough,” you laugh. “I heard you moan my name.”

Your words cause JJ to let out a long groan. He’s frustrated and embarrassed, ready to spill out a thousand apologies.

“I kinda liked it,” you add.

His breath hitches and you can see his cock twitch, and you grin.

“Touch yourself, JJ.”

He moans at your words and you watch his hands find his cock again. He strokes his thumb over the head of his cock and glides his hand all the way down the base and back up again.

“Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“You,” he inhales sharply, closing his eyes tight as he starts to think about it again. “Your mouth. You taking me in your mouth.” He drags his hand down and squeezes the base of his cock before moving up again in a twisting motion. “Your hands. H-How good they’d feel. Soft.”

“Uh huh,” you say, acknowledging that you’re listening to him.

“Fuck,” he moans. “Thought about fucking you. My dick buried in that tight pussy. Fuck, Y/N.” His hips lift off the bed slightly as he bucks into his hand.

“What, JJ?” you respond.

“Please come in here,” he begs. “Wanna see your face.”

You grin wide as you step through the slightly ajar door. You close it behind you for good measure.

Your eyes meet JJ’s blue ones. His face is red, you’re not sure from embarrassment or his arousal, and his hair is matted to his forehead. He’s covered in sweat and you wonder how long he’s been at this.

“That all you wanted JJ? Just to see me?” You tease.

He shakes his head quickly and swallows hard. “I want you to touch me.”

You walk the few steps to the bed, climbing onto it. JJ moves his hands and you quickly replace where they were.

A sinful moan spills from his lips and he leans into your touch. His hands grip the sheets once again and your name is a praise on his lips.

It only takes a few strokes before he’s cumming, hot, white ropes spilling onto your hand and his stomach. It’s the hardest he’s cum in a long time and he swears he sees stars.

He can barely catch his breath after.

“Fuck. Thank you,” he says through pants.

You sit beside him until he comes down from his high. You think maybe you’ll talk about what you just walked in on, but instead JJ asks, “Can I return the favor?”

You nod quickly and JJ sits himself up and lays you down in his place. He takes your shorts off and he can already see how soaking wet you are through your panties.

“You must’ve really liked watching me,” he teases as his fingers glide over the wet fabric.

He pushes your panties to the side, running one finger through your wet folds and grinning to himself.

“I thought about how good you probably taste. How much I would love to get my mouth on you,” he says.

He easily slips two fingers into your hole, prodding that sensitive spot inside you. His thumb rubs circles on your clit, and he relishes in the moans escaping your lips.

“Please,” you whimper.

That’s all he needs.

He keeps his fingers inside you, thrusting them and crooking them into you, as he mouth joins them. His lips wrap around your clit, tongue flicking at it, swirling it, anything he can do to stimulate the sensitive bud.

You’re a mess above him, moaning his name, hands fisted in his blond locks. Watching him fuck himself to the thought of you had you a lot closer to the edge than you thought.

You feel JJ’s tongue prod your hole a few times, joining his fingers.

You’re right there, ready to cum. JJ’s lips move back to your clit and you can feel his tongue against it again, but it’s not moving in the circular motion it once was.

No. The fucker was drawing two J’s on your clit and an apostrophe S. He was claiming it.

Your release takes you by surprise, walls clenching around JJ’s fingers are you cum, the thought of him marking you as his sending you over the edge.

You’re both a mess.

JJ peels his shirt off, using it to wipe off his face, hands and stomach. He uses a clean part of it to clean you up as well before throwing it on the chair by the door, where he’s been putting all his dirty laundry.

JJ clears his throat and breaks the silence that’s fallen between you both. “So uh, what happens now?” He asks.

“Well, what do you want to happen now?”

“I think we should shower. And we should shower together to, ya know, save water.”

You laugh at his words and sit up. He surprises you by leaning forward and capturing your lips in a gentle kiss that you don’t hesitate to return.

“And then after, maybe we could cuddle and I can tell you about how I’ve liked you since before third grade.”

You giggle at him, cupping your hand around his cheek and kissing him again. “I like that idea.”

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