#and we were gonna see barbie w my friends next week | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bandaigaeru · 4 years ago

Text

gravitational pull - seo changbin

→genre: brief fake dating, childhood friends to weird enemies to fake lovers to real lovers →synopsis: he was a glimmering star of hope until he exploded, suspending your relationship into a seesawing gravity. →pairing: changbin x gender neutral reader →word count: 8.1k →warnings: hyunjins kinda mean at one point, mentions of alcohol

Mulch crunches beneath the adolescent shoes of your classmates. One intention is shared, in this playground warfare, and it’s to get a swing.

You disregard the heap rushing towards the ones closest, for your gaze is set on the far end of the swingset. And it is just within your reach. Your eyes narrow as you outstretch a palm, prepared to feel the coolness of the rusty chain.

The chain sways away from you beneath the harsh touch of another boy.

You stare at him with wide eyes, mouth fallen agape.

He smiles, the plastic seat dipping beneath his weight. “This one’s mine.”

A small shake in your tone as you return, “I was here first.”

“So? Everyone knows this is my swing.”

You slowly nod, taking small footsteps backwards. Hwang Hyunjin is bigger than you. And more accustomed with goons of friends. There’s no point in fighting.

Though as you start for the abandoned monkey bars (their vibrant red paint chipped to a sad haze) with blurry vision faulting your path, a voice booms over the rush between your ears.

You glance in the direction. A short boy sits in a stationary swing, smiling as though it is all he’s ever known. He waves you over.

Taking all of the precautions, you glance over your shoulder to make sure he’s talking to you. When you confirm, you drag your feet along the mulch.

You flinch when he stands, bringing guarding forearms to protect your face. The blow never comes.

“You can take my swing,” he says. You peek at him through your shield. His puffy cheeks are still indented with the smile. And his hands, not balled into a fist, lay calmly at his side.

You blink, slowly lowering your defense. “W-Why?”

He laughs, “That’s what friends are for. Duh.”

The laugh that trembles over your lips is shaky and foreign. You reach for the chain.

“I’ll push you!” he declares, rushing behind you as you steady yourself in the small seat.

He pulls you from the ground, the tips of your shoes trailing back amber woodchips.

The tip of your nose kisses the blue sky. Though, inevitably, the time comes when you must fall back to the earth. Steady hands push against your back, returning you to freedom. You find yourself grinning each time.

The next day, Changbin saves you the swing beside him. He waits until you are ready before kicking off on the ground. You swing in sync, sharing a few glances under the sun’s hugging rays.

It only takes a week before he’s begging his mother to arrange a playdate. And to your luck, he follows through with the promises, meeting you at your doorstep that Saturday. He guides you a block over to his house. He must be a good kid if his mother entrusted him with such a task, bringing two first-graders over. One returning home and one in need of a home away from home.

His mother is extremely nice, smiling at you each time you catch her eyes. She sets a plate of fruit on the coffee table while you and Changbin battle over the next Spongebob episode. His sister comes out of her room, too, asking you whether you prefer Barbies or Matchbox.

Elementary school passes like this. Recess is spent with his presence, as is lunch and gym and any class freetime. On the off days that it rains, barring you inside the school, you play Mancala. It’s totally civil. Not once does Changbin storm off when he loses. He merely shrugs and offers to set up the next round.

So unusual, though each time you find yourself smiling.

After an emotional graduation party—emotional for the teachers and family, you mean—he hands you a small piece of paper.

“What’s this?” you curiously look at him. His tie has loosened since the ceremony and his hair is ruffled by his father’s hand.

“My phone number. I won’t be in town this summer, but I still wanna keep touch with you.”

You smile down at the small digits. Neatly, you fold the post-it before slipping it into your pocket. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into his touch as he wraps his arms around your waist. “I’m gonna miss you,” you announce, voice muffled by his shoulder.

“It’s only one summer,” he reassures. “Plus, I’ll bring you back something nice. A keychain or something.”

You laugh through the sting that stabs your body, nodding. One summer cannot mark the end of the world, you tell yourself as you watch his car drift over the hill leading into town.

ii.

On the first, dreaded, day of middle school, you scan the halls carefully. The new faces do not scare you as much as the lack of his does. Each call was sent to voicemail. And each time the dial sounded, you frantically returned the phone to the receiver. Maybe he had accidentally miswrote the number. Or maybe he was too busy to return your calls. Summer has that effect on people, you think, where you have so much fun you forget the things you used to do daily. Like a memory disorder.

You finally see him in the lunch line. A breath of fresh air invades your lungs as you rush over to him.

“Changbin! How was your summer? I called, but you never answered,” you grin, nudging his shoulder.

He does not shoot you a glance, nor does he send a glare. Instead, he keeps his eyes glued on his shoes. A sharp pain strikes your chest—that breath might have been poison.

You gently shove his shoulder again, forcing a shaky laugh as you continue, “Hello? Anyone in there?”

The boy in front of him spins on his heel. His eyes are cold, painful, as they meet yours. “Can’t you tell he doesn’t wanna talk to you?” Hyunjin scoffs. “Go somewhere else, dumbass.”

Hesitantly, you look to Changbin. Surely, he’ll defend you, right?

Right?

His eyes have traveled to the lunch menu, displayed on a TV in cheap font. Far away from this conversation.

You nod, looking back to Hyunjin. His abrasive eyes are still waiting for you, eagerly begging you to move on. “Sorry, then,” you murmur as you start for the bathroom that will become your haven.

Behind you, Hyunjin’s loud laugh taunts you. Hidden beneath it is a quieter one that stabs you in the chest. Something painful blurs your vision, twists your insides, and curls the corners of your lips as you try to fight it.

You were a fool to think he was different. Elementary promises should never be trusted.

Secondary school passes in dreary blinks. Watching Changbin run for class president. Bubbling in his name despite everything. Hearing Changbin got the lead role in Cinderella. Showing up despite the physics test you had to study for.

You wonder momentarily if Newton was behind this twisted feeling in your chest. Drawing you to him—like a moth to a flame. You even scan his sister’s Instagram from time to time, finding a picture of Changbin framed carefully beneath the stars, a twinkle in his eye.

You watch from afar as he accepts his diploma, a careful smile seated on your lips.

A bitter taste haunts your tongue as you pack for college.

“This is good for me,” you mutter to yourself. “I’ll be far, far away from him. I can move on.”

Some things are better left unsaid.

iii.

Awkward introductions replay in your memory as you get ready for your first college class. Seven fifteen, physics with Professor Kim. Denoted as one of the best in the country. Physicist and professor, respectively. It would be a lie to say he didn’t take part in your decision to attend this college. And the ocean, which is only a fifteen minute walk (that’s what the RA told you when you moved in).

You arrive with a hot americano precisely on time.

As you climb the lecture hall’s steps, your eyes drift among the sea of unfamiliar faces. One in particular sticks out—a glimmer of hope among the trenches. You raise a hand to wave, a smile quirking your lips. But, at the face directly next to him, you drift back.

Evidently, you didn’t move far enough.

You stand at the edge of the aisle, glancing down at the empty seat. “Hey, is this spot empty?”

Hope looks back at you with shock glazing his features. “Oh my God, Y/N! Of course. I didn’t know you decided to come here,” Minho smiles, tugging his notebook closer to allow you more room.

You pull out the chair, glancing at the boy on the other side of him. “I didn’t really tell anyone where I was going.”

He fills the silence with his tales of life, occasionally glancing at Changbin to see if he wants to add something. Each time, he is met with the boy’s indifferent profile. Mindlessly scrolling through his phone, though not once stopping to read one of the passing captions or like a picture.

Professor Kim claps, fizzling any remaining conversation. The syllabus fades in your mind as you wonder how Changbin’s summer went. Maybe he spent it with his sister. Or perhaps he accompanied a love interest to a string of dates.

This thought shoots a concoction of contradicting emotions through your heart. You return distracted eyes to Professor Kim just as he’s dismissing class, burying a content fist into the customly tailored pocket of his navy suit. Minho turns to you immediately, filling your ears with proposals to coffee and lunch and maybe you could come to the dorm later and catch up. Changbin’s ears perk up as he begs for Minho’s eyes.

For a split second, his eyes fall on you before they dart away.

“I need to get back to my dorm,” you announce when you can finally slip into Minho’s breaths of pause. “My roommate’s waiting.”

“Who’s your roommate? Maybe we know him.”

You fight a laugh when he finally glances back at Changbin, who has long since given up. “His name’s Yang Jeongin.”

iv.

While Minho is overly focused on you, begging you to tell him what happened after he moved in tenth grade, Changbin pretends you do not exist. When the conversations trail outside of the lecture hall, he clings to Minho’s side but does not speak. His eyes stay glued to the sidewalk. Or his textbook, whose cover he seems very invested in.

So when Professor Kim announces a project, your heart thumps a little too fast.

Minho grabs your arm, “Be my partner?”

Changbin kicks his leg. “Dude.”

He glances back at him, as though nothing he has said goes against him. “What? Just join our group.”

Changbin’s eyes find yours reluctantly. They ignite a spark in your fingertips as you reach for a pen. “Can I?”

You smile as your head twitches in a nod. “Of course.”

The plan is this: meet at the library on October 15th (a Saturday, you realize) at 1 P.M. “Expect to be there long, I wanna get this done ASAP,” Minho adds as he downs the rest of your americano.

When the day finally comes, despite your daily prayers that time would somehow freeze or somehow skip over the day, you leave your dorm right when you need to. Early October aids a brusque breeze, and you wrap your jacket around you as you approach the small crosswalk. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you dread the inevitable message.

Lee Minho [12:59 P.M.]: Sorry guys, I can’t make it. Mama Lee’s in town and wants to see her favorite son.

It’s too late to go home, you realize, when shoes scrape against the cement and a sigh penetrates the silence. “I cannot stand him,” the voice mutters behind you.

You turn to him, offering pitied condolences with a small smile. “Just the two of us, huh?”

He nods. “Guess so.”

A loud hum draws closer as his foot leans down for the asphalt. You look to the source, seeing a red car barreling down the street. You gasp, grabbing Changbin’s sleeve and tugging him back on the sidewalk. The horn echoes in the back of your head like an alarm.

His eyes are wide when they find yours. “T-Thank you,” he stutters, cocking his head a little. As though, for the first time, he is taking in your appearance.

You realize your grip is still tight on his wrist and you let go, tensing up. “You’re welcome.”

In the library, you work in silence. As though nothing happened outside. As though your entire history lies merely within the timespan of a few weeks. Minho serving as the mutual friend to your forced, awkward friendship.

He shoots you a dizzying look as he turns his packet to you. “Can you look this over?”

The tip of your eraser taps a number. “This has to be meters per second, not centimeters per second.”

A small sigh tumbles over his bottom lip as he realizes, “That’s why the final answer looked so weird. Thank you.”

The corner of your lip must have an opposite gravity to it, because it curls upward without intent.

Returning to class the next Monday leaves the soft hint of a calm lavender in the air. You share a quick, almost childish, glance with Changbin before settling back into the tune of physics. Newtons and joules and all the fun things that make up energy.

The next few weeks pass with a quiet hum, one that hangs in the background and, if you lose sight of it, you’re scared you’ll lose it forever. It’s a time of your life where you will look back with a sigh and whisper, “How did I not realize how good I had it?”

At your peak, you fall onto your bed on a Friday night. Jeongin scribbles impatient homework answers while your eyes fall shut.

The storm of your phone blaring its tune awakes you.

Lee Minho calls to remind you that he expects you to arrive at his ‘rager of a birthday party.’ He tells you the address, enthusiastically repeating himself (like an auctioneer) as you try to find a pad of paper. Jeongin’s jumping up to fix his hair before you even hang up.

You’re really not sure what you expect as you drag your roommate in tow towards the destination. Though, when you feel the tremble of music and hear shouts from the lawn of the frat house, you somehow know you’re in the right place.

The foyer is packed with jumping bodies. Leaning on the stairs, a red solo cup in hand, is the man of the hour. His cheeks are dusted in a light coating of heat and, as you approach him, you notice that glitter brushes soft highlights along his cheekbones.

“Happy early birthday!” you shout over the music.

He dizzily turns to you and drags you towards his chest in a swift motion. “Y/N! Thank you for coming!”

You had no choice. It was either come to the party or admit yourself to Lee Minho’s terrifying grudge list.

Despite this, you return with a grin, “Of course!”

When he lets you go into the stale air, he shoves his cup into your hand. “Try some,” he nods.

You tip the plastic to your lips. As the liquid scrapes the back of your throat, you flinch back. “What is this?” Your face twists.

“Just vodka and Coke.”

You hastily return the cup to him and glance around. Jeongin has disappeared to a desolate corner, you presume. A spark of jealousy runs through your veins.

“Where’s the bathroom?” you find yourself asking Minho.

He points down a vacant hallway and tells you it’s the last door on your left. You thank him before scurrying in that direction.

Your knock echoes, though nothing returns. The pale wood feels cold against your cheek as you listen for any life inside. You find it safe to enter. Instantly, you press your palms against the cold marble. Identical eyes stare into each other in the mirror until your eyes slip to the pale, spotless basin. You stare into the milky dome absently, pondering why you feel so odd being here. And for a moment you forget where you are, lost in the dizzying world of your thoughts.

Until you hear the choked sob from behind the shower curtain.

It takes you by surprise. Hesitantly, you reach out for the navy shield.

“Ch-Changbin?” you stutter, staring down at the boy in a mess of shock.

His legs are drawn to his chest as trails of tears line his cheeks. He lets out a squeak as he looks up to you. Arms fall to his sides as he leans forward. Though, he appears to have no intention of stopping, surrendering himself to gravity.

Your hands find his shoulders merely moments before his nose slams into the porcelain. “Are you drunk?” you whisper.

Though, in return, he sobs. “I’m sorry.”

Something pierces your chest. Your lips part to say something, but the words are clogged in your throat.

“I was such an idiot,” he slurs, swaying gently.

“What’re you talking about?” you finally ask.

His balled fist slams against the tub. “You!” he shouts, face twisting as he releases another cry.

You flinch back.

“My mom always asks how you’re doing, no matter how many times I tell her. My sister still has a grudge. Hell, even Hwang Hyunjin thinks I’m an idiot and he’s the one who tricked me into leaving you!”

He leans his cheek against the wall, once again releasing a cry. Though, this one, he fights to hold back. It scalds the air in a whimper.

Quieter, he admits, “You were the only person I’ve ever felt safe with.”

You sigh, looking down at your shoes. Those days when you wondered what had gone wrong, staring up at your blank ceiling and trying to relive his smile as quiet tears fell to your pillow, wash down the drain.

He watches intently as you climb into the tub. You do not look at him as you slowly lean against the wall he rests his cheek on. Instead, you stare at the mahogany finish of the small cabinets. Regardless, you can feel his eyes burning holes into your cheek. In this cold porcelain cage, all you can hear is the distant thumping of music and the occasional sniffle from the boy beside you. You smile at the familiarity of it, returning you to your former years cozied up on a playground. No worries back then, you jealously note with a muted snicker.

“I missed you,” you finally say. Tears blur your vision, warping the defined lines of wood into a mess of color.

When you bring yourself to look at him, his eyes are closed. You lean a little closer to see if he’s sleeping. Reluctant lips part as he whispers, his breath hot and reeking of tequila, “I missed you too.”

vi.

One of the things you come to realize is that Changbin’s smile has never changed. There’s still that little indent where his cheeks fold over and each time he offers a glimpse at it you are returned to the days of the swing.

Thanks to the drunken night (half drunken night, you should say, since he had enough for both of you), Changbin has allowed a sneak peek back to his life. Strictly over text, though. You’re not sure why he’s never asked to meet up—maybe it’s too much too fast, you think—but you cannot find it in you to complain. He’s back after all these years and that seems to be enough.

So you endure it, texting him until the early hours of the morning and fascinating yourself over all of these things you have missed.

Seo Changbin [2:39 A.M.]: My sister and I went to the elementary school a couple of weeks ago.

Looking at your phone burns your eyes, as does the weird feeling in your chest.

Y/N [2:40 A.M.]: Really? Has it changed much?

Seo Changbin [2:40 A.M.]: The kids after us got all the cool playground equipment :(

Seo Changbin [2:40 A.M.]: I should take you there one day haha. I think that’d be fun.

You fight the giggle that wishes to flee, glancing up at a sleeping Jeongin for reassurance.

Waking up in the morning is aided with fleeting regrets, though beneath it you realize there is a small skip in your step. One that flares a heat in your face when you walk into the physics classroom and reach to meet Changbin’s eyes. And there, waiting, is his gaze and a small smile.

Maybe you have it bad for Seo Changbin, you think, as Professor Kim begins talking about Newton’s Third Law.

vii.

Yang Jeongin is broadcasting his homework onto the cheap projector he bought on Amazon for $50. “Isn’t it so cool?” he marvels as his red pen underlines a key part of his notes.

You absently nod, glaring at your textbook. Between the lines is a screaming thought that cascades a waterfall of forget towards your upcoming exam. You fail to notice your phone buzzing against your bed. Daydreams are dangerous like that.

“Y/N,” Jeongin’s voice finally snaps you out of it. You look to him, standing at the door and lazily holding the knob. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Your heart leaps in your chest as you rush to take his spot. Before you can tug the door open, he presses a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful around him, please.”

You watch as he struts and flops down on his bed, opening a comic book above his head.

As you open the door, a little more hesitant than before the interaction with Jeongin, you smile.

Changbin is watching the end of your hall and playing with the sleeves of his hoodie. When he senses your presence, he finally breaks his trance and offers a smile. He keeps his voice low, “Can I talk to you?”

You nod, ignoring the annoying thump thump of your heart, “Sure. What’s up?”

“In private,” he adds, peeking over your head at Jeongin. Maintaining his hold on the comic book, though his eyes have drifted to you with a parental glare.

You shut the door behind you. His footsteps draw towards the common area, and you follow. There’s a silence draped over you until he abruptly stops in the middle of the hallway and turns to you. “I need you to pretend to date me.”

You blink. “W-What?”

He draws his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before continuing, “I made a stupid bet and I kind of really need the money.”

A shroud of toughness hides your instant willingness to help. “What do I get out of this?”

His eyes radiate the innocence of a child. They draw you to a distant memory, one that you might have seen in a movie and forced into a memory, but you’re not sure. You were at his house after he broke his arm and he cried, those same eyes staring at you as he whined about how much it hurt. And how itchy his arm was beneath the cast.

Your heart softens, and you have to fight the crumbling beneath your feet.

“Whatever you want,” he assertively nods. “Seriously.”

You sigh. “Do you have a plan?”

“I always have a plan,” he smiles, pulling you into a grateful hug. His hoodie smells vaguely of ramen with a hint of sealike cologne you might find in Lee Minho’s bathroom. You find yourself smiling as your hands rest on his back.

viii.

His hand, admittedly, feels a little odd in your hand. The last time you had held his hand was in second grade, when you went to the zoo on a field trip. Your class was already flooding into the bird exhibit with anticipation and exuberance. But you were crying your eyes out at the mere thought of seeing a parrot. (This unfounded fear is all thanks to Spongebob)

Changbin’s hand slipped into yours and slowly urged you in, mumbling that if you didn’t go you’d get stuck there forever. And then, he had whispered, the parrots might eat us alive. Even then, his hand was oddly clammy and a little sticky.

But now, as he guides you through the small neighborhood, you feel a calm mix of elation and awkwardness. Sure, this is groundbreaking material for you and your “small” crush on him. However, he’s not doing this because he likes you. He’s doing this because he needs some cash and you were a means of aiding him.

“Where are we going?” you ask, a cloud of your breath expanding from your lips. It’s only the beginning of November.

“You’ll see,” he glances over at you, a small smile painted on his pale cheeks.

There’s a small line of shrubs on your side of the sidewalk. Serving as a break in them is a metal archway, accompanied by a small wooden sign reading: Gyeonghwa Park. He turns into it, guiding you into the small fenced area. A two person swing set stands in the corner, absent seats trembling in the breeze. There’s a few wooden benches, though most are tainted in a layer of leaves.

“Ta-da,” he says, gesturing with his free arm at the small park.

You look around to the little duck statue in the corner. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why are we here again?” you turn to him. His hand burns against your skin like a constant reminder.

“I can’t take you to our playground, so I thought we could settle for here as our first fake date,” he smiles. “Plus, we need couple pictures and I think this works well.”

You’re grateful for the breeze that dashes pink across your cheeks, disguising the heat that has rushed to them at his words. “R-Right,” you stutter.

He takes a seat on a leafless bench and slips his phone from his pocket. As you reluctantly sit beside him, you watch as he sends texts to his friends. Nothing regarding you, you presume, but when he feels your eyes he quickly closes the chat.

The pictures are poised carefully, his arm resting on the top of the bench behind you, your head tilted towards his as you smile. Without warning, he presses his lips to your cheek as the shutter clicks. You try not to make your flinch obvious.

He pulls back, smiling slightly as he inquires, “Should we kiss to seal the deal?”

Fire poisons your veins as you stare back at him. The invisible mark his lips had left sizzles in the air. “Do you think we should?” you whisper.

He shrugs. “It’ll make it a bit more believable. We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, though.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Kiss me.”

The corners of his lips upturn a little further, sending a shiver down your spine—though maybe it was just the wind. He readjusts his phone, glancing to assure you’re both in frame, before leaning in. At first, his lips merely wander in the air before yours, as though he is thinking about the best way to do this. But then, confident lips press against yours. His touch melts away the numbness in your fingers, the shiver of the cold. In this moment of freedom, you wonder if he had ever wondered what your lips tasted like. Because you sure have.

ix.

Each of your fake dates is constructed with careful attention to detail. A trip to the movies (seeing a film you had mentioned wanting to see very briefly over text). A study ‘date’ that didn’t really feel romantic, though he brought you an americano and a fancy pen he stole from his dad’s work.

But your date today is very special. The diner is filled to the brim with hungry college students and elderly couples. In the back, bunched up against the upholstery, are Changbin’s friends. They throw their heads back to laugh as one tells a stupid joke. Changbin leads you down the aisle slowly. He squeezes your hand, whispering over his shoulder, “Thank you, again, for doing this. It means a lot.”

You smile against your will,“That’s what friends are for.”

As you approach, the new and familiar faces turn to you. Some hold smiles, others hold gaping lips.

“I didn’t think you actually found someone willing to date you,” a boy marvels.

“Let alone Y/N! How come I didn’t know you were dating?” Minho shouts, garnering certain harsh looks from neighboring booths.

A glimmering smile finds your lips as you slide into the booth beside him, “You never asked.”

He scoffs. “Am I supposed to ask when anything life-changing happens?”

Changbin files in beside you, sighing, “Not necessarily, but you talk a lot.”

“How long have you been dating?” a boy across from you asks. His cheeks are dusted with light freckles, and a friendly smile paints across his lips.

“Nearly two months,” you glance at Changbin, who nods. The finer details, he stressed, must be known like the back of your hand. A single hair out of place could be the end.

“Are you serious?” Minho booms. His eyes are wide and his lips are parted. Even his eyebrows raise in awe, scratching dull wrinkles across his forehead.

“You do talk a lot,” you mumble.

Before Minho can have the chance to shout profanities aiding his awe, another boy sighs. “Shut up and congratulate them, okay? This is karma for laughing at him when he wanted in on the bet.”

“Thank you, Chan,” Changbin smiles, wrapping an adept arm around your shoulder. Instinctively, you lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder.

As the night unfolds, queued by digging questions and the occasional groan from Minho, you nearly forget that this is an act. That when Changbin presses a kiss to your forehead it’s not real.

Outside of the diner, as his friends disperse into their means of transportation, he cups your cheeks and presses a soft kiss to your lips. When he parts, there’s a small smile and a gloss hanging over his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers.

He promises to pick you up at five. All that remains is the reward, you realize. A simple favor has brought you here, waiting impatiently for his knock on your door. Your heart beats harshly against your chest.

“Why are you even messing with him?” Jeongin mutters, stirring his ramen with the tips of his chopsticks.

You glance up at him, sighing, “I’m not messing with him. I’m doing him a favor.”

“Yeah, but, why? He’s an asshole, Y/N,” he shakes his head. As he shoves the steaming noodles into his mouth, he hisses at the heat and tilts his head to the side.

You watch him as he gulps down water.

At your prolonged silence, he adds, “When is he supposed to pick you up?”

You tap your phone screen, illuminating the time. “Five minutes ago.”

Jeongin drowns his harsh words with more noodles. Though, in between bites, he says, “Maybe he’s standing you up.”

The thought has crossed your mind, though a hollow in your chest wants to believe he wouldn’t do that. Friends, if that’s what you are, don’t do that.

Seconds drift into minutes. And minutes turn into an hour. Jeongin’s gone through three more ramen cups. Your lips ache as you nervously bite them, jumping for your phone at each notification.

At half past six, Jeongin rests into your bed beside you. “I’m sorry,” he whispers as he wraps a cautious arm around your shoulder.

Though, you do not feel anything aside from the irritation blurring your eyes. “Are you okay?” he asks. These simple words open the floodgate.

xi.

His eyes avert yours as though they had never known you in the first place. Minho doesn’t say anything when you lower yourself in the seat beside him. Instead, he cautiously slips you a small note. Large, scratchy words read: are you okay?

You crumble the note in your palm before tucking it into your bag. He does not bother you for the rest of class. Class travels by in grueling moments. Professor Kim’s voice seems slowed, stripped of any tone. When he finally dismisses class, warning that the semester is ending soon, you haphazardly shove your things into your bag and leave.

Over your shoulder, you hear a low smack and Minho mutter, “What the hell is the matter with you?”

It hurts to admit, given that you had known from the beginning, but Seo Changbin used you. Though, despite the anger you should be feeling, you can only find yourself wondering what he needed the money so badly for.

Back at the dorm, Jeongin silently pulls a piece of cake from the small fridge and hands it to you. “Here,” he mumbles. “My friend made it for you.”

You look up at him. “Why?” Your voice is raw from desuetude, crackles like an old radio.

Jeongin bites his lip, eyes slipping to your comforter. “I told him you were having a rough time. Plus, he knows Changbin, so he knows the story.”

You take the paper plate in your fingertips, dragging it toward you. You poke the delicacy with the tip of your fork. “What’s the story?”

A sigh slips past his lips. “That you guys dated and you broke up. That’s all Changbin told them.”

You nod. He must’ve gotten the money and thrown you away.

Your phone buzzes against the mattress. Jeongin leans over to check who it is. When his eyes meet yours again, he informs, “It’s just Minho.”

So you allow yourself to look at your phone.

Lee Minho [9:20 A.M.]: I’m outside your dorm. Let me in please.

You look up to the door, though your energy is below zero. Jeongin grabs your phone, reading the message, before going to answer the door.

“Hey, Jeongin,” Minho pushes past him. He sits at the foot of your bed. “What happened?”

You blink, eyes staring into his absently. “What?”

“With Changbin. Tell me what happened, please. He won’t tell us anything and I’m starting to get worried for both of you. He’s never this quiet and you’re never this sulky,” he reluctantly rests his hand on your knee.

You look at Jeongin, who stands there with arms against his chest. He shrugs, silently telling you it’s up to you.

You sigh. “Where do I start?”

“The beginning, preferably.”

“I think I fell in love with him, but I can’t tell you when. Maybe it was when we were kids. Maybe it was at the party when he apologized,” you slowly say. The words do not feel like yours. A small pit rumbles in your stomach, begging you to continue. “He wanted a favor, to pretend to date him for that bet you guys made. I didn’t ask why he needed the money or why I should do this for him, given all he did to me. I just went with it. And things were great, as far as fake relationships go.”

In your break of silence, you find yourself smiling at all the fake dates. You wonder if the pictures still live in his phone or if he discarded them the moment he got rid of you.

“So you guys faked the whole thing?” Minho’s eyebrows furrow.

You nod. “He was supposed to pick me up on Saturday, but he stood me up. And now we’re here.”

Minho blinks. “Either Changbin’s a good actor or he’s a fucking asshole.”

“It’s the latter,” Jeongin announces as he crosses to his bed.

Minho shakes his head. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Don’t tell him what I said,” you rush. “About loving him or anything.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

After he leaves, Jeongin loudly sighs. “I knew you were in love with him.”

You look at him, slowly nodding, “I didn’t really make an effort to hide it.”

xii.

There are tears irritating your skin as you pull yourself out of bed. Surviving off of Felix’s cake and Jeongin’s ramen cups is less than attractive, but you cannot build enough will to leave your dorm. You ask Minho to take notes in physics for you and he quickly obliges, no questions asked.

Changbin, still, plagues your mind like venom. Each time you think maybe a nap is in order, you shut your eyes and see his smile. Or you’ll think of his lips on yours as he smiles into the kiss. Your eyes shoot open, chest rising heavily. Even when you stare at your ceiling too long, your brain deems it a screen for a memory to play. Casted like Jeongin’s cheap projector.

There was this once, in fourth grade when you grew bored of the swings so you relocated to the plastic blue tunnel. He blocked off one end while you took the other. On hotter days, you’d lay on top of the tunnel. One day, he looked at you across the plastic and asked, “Do you ever think we’ll be grown ups far away from each other?”

You shook your head so confidently. “No. We’re gonna live together. Like roommates.”

Jeongin comes home from his classes with a cup of coffee. He sets it on your nightstand as he whispers, “I’m spending the night at Chan’s tonight. Call me if you need anything.”

You take a sip of the americano. “Thanks, have fun.”

In his wake is a dreaded silence that reminds you of Changbin’s laugh. Time has only plagued it with a dash of depth.

Your phone buzzes. Hesitantly, you roll over and grab it. The metal is cold against your fingers.

Lee Minho [4:29 P.M.]: Hey, I need you to come to the beach. There’s something I want to show you.

The thing that tipped you over the edge when looking for a college was the beach. As you carefully scouted, the grains of sand kept drawing you back. It’s ironic as you realize that you haven’t been once, despite its proximity. You can already feel the bitter cold against your cheeks as you rise from your bed. Dots of dizziness scatter across your eyes.

The mid November air is cooler than you expected as you step out of the complex. You shove balled fists deeper into your hoodie pocket.

The walk to the beach is shorter than you had expected, only passing ten minutes. You see Minho waiting on the wooden slats leading to the sand. He jumps to preserve his heat.

“Hey,” you call out to him.

He looks to you, daring to unveil a pale hand as he waves. When you’re closer he says, “It’s fucking cold out here.”

You nod, looking out onto the vacant sand. Huddled like a speck of trash is a small figure.

“Why’d you want to meet out here?” you return to look at him, a piercing cold slashing your heart at the realization.

His face softens as he glances out towards the black speck in the sand. “Well, he wanted to meet you here but he wasn’t sure if you’d come if he texted. So he dragged me out here.”

You find yourself laughing. “And you agreed?”

“I didn’t know it was negative twenty out here,” he mutters. “So go and talk to him so I can get back in my car.”

You smile. Your heart thunders against your chest and, even though you know you shouldn’t, your feet move towards the small figure. He tugs you in, time and time again.

You glance over your shoulder when you reach him. Minho’s already gone, as though his presence was merely a ghost. You squat next to Changbin, wrapping your arms around your knees.

He looks at you, though you keep focused on the pale water. Brushing up on the sand, pulling back into the ocean.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You nod. “You always say that.”

“I really am,” he admits. “I know you probably think I’m an asshole, reasonably so, but I really am sorry for everything.”

You finally look at him. “What’d you need the money for?”

He’s taken aback. He had expected more of a heartbreaking confession, a perspective he had not once explored. “Music equipment,” he says. “It’s really for me, Chan, and Jisung.”

You nod, looking back at the water. “I was just a ragdoll so you could get that.”

“Not really,” he whispers. “It was kinda a double positive for me.”

Furrowed eyebrows turn back to him.

“I got the money,” he starts, “and I also got the luxury of pretending to be yours.”

You blink. Your voice is small, barely audible over a gust of wind, “What?”

“Every time I did something stupid that got in between us, I always knew I’d find my way back to you. I was the tide and you were the moon, reaching out and tugging me back into reality. Time and time again, as we’ve come to understand,” he nods, glancing at his red fingers, bitten by the air.

You stare at him. “So why do you keep pushing me away?”

He shrugs. “There was always the fear that you didn’t want to bring me back.”

You scoff, remembering your childhood and the way he kept drawing you closer. You shake your head, words failing you.

“So truly, I am so sorry. You still have your end of the deal, you know. You get whatever you want. You can tell me to fuck off and I’ll go home. Sure, I’d be a little heartbroken, but-”

You cut him off, “Why would I ever do that?”

“Because I treat you like shit to fuel this stupid ideology that you don’t hate me,” he admits. “Even when I don’t try to be, I’m a selfish asshole. I only kissed you because I wanted to, not because of the stupid pictures for the bet. I only asked you for the favor because I wanted to paint this stupid little picture in my head. I only stood you up because I couldn’t bring myself to face you and admit that my stupid fantasy was over.”

“That’s not selfish,” you say. “That’s just very Seo Changbin of you.”

“I really cannot tell if you hate my guts or not,” he sighs, picking up a handful of sand and watching as it trickles down again.

You shake your head. “Minho didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

You look back at the empty space where the ghost once stood. A sigh of a distant nostalgia slips from your lips—the times you’ve pictured this moment over and over in your daydreams. However, you did not imagine the bitter bite of the wind nipping at your cheeks. “That I’m in love with you.”

“You what?” he gawks, leaning a bit closer. As though his ears deceive him.

Your eyes return to his as you nod. “I love you. I probably have since we were kids. That’s the only reason I agreed to your favor. Because I, too, wanted to be a little selfish.”

His lips slowly curl up into a smile as he releases an abrasive laugh. “How much did Minho pay you to say that?”

“He didn’t. I’m being completely honest. Why else would I be here if I wasn’t stupidly in love with you, huh?”

“Really?”

“Yes, now can we speed this up? It’s fucking cold out here.”

He presses his lips against yours. You expect them to mold against yours like they had in previous weeks, but now they are fiery. It sends tingles down your spine as he cups your cheek. With those internal feelings finally suspended from your body, you can sigh a breath of relief.

You wonder if younger you would be proud.

xiii.

“Are you guys actually dating now or are you just fucking with us again?” one of Changbin’s friends, Jisung, asks as you slide into the same booth as a few weeks ago.

“They are,” Minho intervenes. “I watched them confess and everything. Like a minister.”

“Bullshit,” you mutter. “You went back to your car as soon as I got there.”

Changbin’s laugh tickles against your ear as he scoots in next to you.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t revoke the award,” the freckled boy, who you’ve now concluded is Felix, observes.

“Why?” Jisung asks, bringing the straw of his soda to his lips.

“Because we would have had to give it right back.”

His friends are very welcoming of you, despite the deception that marked your first greeting. Chan catches you in the parking lot as Changbin and Jisung fight over the extra mint the server placed on the table.

“I just want you to know,” he starts with a smile, “that he really loves you. It’s not a front, I promise.”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you ask, “Those are suspicious words. How should I trust you?”

“Because he talks about you all the time. I know more about your childhood than I know about mine. Plus, he’s written three songs about you and we don’t even have the equipment to record anything yet.”

You laugh, “You’re in luck, then.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Why?”

You smile, shaking your head. “You’ll find out.”

Changbin returns to your side, a sullen scowl pressed against his lips as he watches Jisung pop the mint into his mouth. Chan dismisses himself to attend to Felix attempting to teach Minho a taekwondo move.

You look over at Changbin, “You’ve written songs about me?”

His eyes widen, “No? Why would I ever do that?”

A giggle bubbles up from your stomach as you shake your head, starting off to his car. Behind you, he repeats the same question urgently.

xiv.

Seo Changbin is like a pest that flies around your head, begging your attention at all moments of the day. He invited you over to his dorm so you could study together, though when you arrived with your textbook and notes, he appeared offended.

“What?” you asked as you settled on his bed, fluffing pillows before leaning against them.

“Studying doesn’t mean studying, it means cuddling,” he pouted.

It’s lucky for him that Minho isn’t home because if he ever heard those words falling from his lips, he’d never hear the end of it.

So that’s why you’re laying your head on his pillow, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as you read over your notes.

“What’s the formula for Newton’s law of universal gravitation?” you quiz him when you feel his arms start to loosen with the temptation of sleep.

He hums, “I don’t know. You’re the one with the strong magnetic force. Shouldn’t they call it Y/N’s law of universal gravitation?”

You sigh, setting the spiral notebook on his nightstand before you turn in his arms to face him. The hint of a smile already greets you. You press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “What’s your grade in physics?”

He looks up at the ceiling as he pretends to think. “38.”

“What?” you hiss, pulling back away from him as though he has an illness you didn’t know about.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” he whines, pulling you back. “I only signed up for the class because it reminded me of you.”

You smile. “Why?”

He shyly pouts, “I may have gone out of my way to hear about you when we were in high school.”

“And you never thought to apologize?” you counter, your smile still reigning.

“You looked like you were doing fine without me,” he shyly admits.

“Changbin,” you shake your head. “I had no friends after Minho moved. I chased after you, thinking maybe something would happen.”

He closes his eyes. “Tell me you didn’t see me in Cinderella.”

“I saw you in Cinderella,” you laugh.

He throws his head back and whines. “The pants they put me in were two sizes too big.”

The memory of him standing on stage and having to hold up his pants, disguising it by having his hands on his hips, brings another laugh to the air. “Did they really not have any clothespins or anything?”

“No!” he exclaims, looking back into your eyes. “Fucking Hyunjin was hoarding them all!”

You feel the vibrations of your laugh against the pillow. It’s good being like this, having him tethered close.

He’s in the middle of saying something, probably further pursuing his complaints about high school or Hyunjin, but you do not care. You press your lips against his. A moment of stillness, thanks to his shock, before he kisses you back.

The only word to describe this feeling brewing in your stomach: bliss. Pure, hot bliss.

You hope gravity will keep you grounded here.

130 notes · View notes

toruhalo · 4 years ago

Text

Psychotic (3/?)

Pairings: Ledger!Joker x Female OC

Wordcount: 1622

Warnings: blood and injury, self-destructive thoughts, threats, manipulation?

previous chapter: 2

A/N: I hope people still read this lol and idk if it’s even good but writing Joker makes me happy

Tranquility. The dense humid air sweeps through the forest floor, leaving behind droplets of water in its wake. She can feel the nearby leaves brushing her calves and fingertips as Violet observes her surroundings. She feels comforted, as if she was surrounded by people who cherished her. In the distance rests a foggy view of a waterfall, glowing green from underneath. Vines begin to entangle and caress her as she walks towards the source of the light.

"Violet?" the voice whispers.

"... You okay?"

She elevates her head from her hands to see Sharpener looking at her with furrowed brows. She blinks to regain her eyesight and leans back in her chair.

"I-I didn't realize I fell asleep. Sorry..."

Sharpener chuckled, "It's okay, if my story was so boring you could've told me."

Violet smiles and begins to daintily pick at her food in her tray. Her thoughts begin turning to the dream she just had. The environment she recalled made her ache to witness it once again, as it conveyed a feeling of belonging. A feeling Violet isn't familiar with.

"Blonde Barbie, two o'clock," Sharpener snickers.

Violet looks up at the cafeteria counter to instantly see the one and only Doctor Harleen Quinzel. She quickly grabs two trays of decent looking food from one of the workers and makes her way out of the room. Violet huffs and takes a bite out of her bland, discolored lasagna. She knew that Joker was currently having a session with Harleen, so was she getting lunch for the two of them? A date?

"Woah there, what'd that spork do to you?" Sharpener slides the plastic utensil from her deathly grip. Flecks of blood followed the movement and pooled in her palm. Sharpener grimaced and handed her his leftover napkin.

"T-thank you. I wasn't thinking," she mumbles.

"Clearly..."

The two fell into mutual silence while the rest of the cafeteria continuously grew louder. Violet's thoughts instantly began to swarm her mind while mindlessly finishing her lunch. She recalls the time Joker reassured her that he was only using Harleen for his own gain, but as days passed she began to consider, what if he was lying to gain her trust? She didn't know him very well, but she suspects no one does. Why would J like her out of all people, if he could even like anyone that way.

“You gonna tell me why you got so angry when you saw that doctor?" Sharpener inquires.

"I-I don't l-like her very much."

Sharpener laughs, "I can tell that much. Is she your psychiatrist?"

"No... She's my fr-" Violet stopped herself. Was J even her friend? What was he to her? A silly crush at the most, she thought. "Someone I-I talk to is her p-patient."

"Hmm. And here I thought I was the only one you talked to..." Sharpener jokes. "Who is it? You don't have to tell me, I wouldn't care much."

"The J-Joker," Violet mumbles. She figured it might help to talk about him to someone else, other than Doctor LeLand who clearly doesn't perceive him in a good light.

Sharpener furrows his brow, "Are you sure it's him?" Violet nods. "Huh. You're the last person I would think who would have enough balls to even look at him, let alone hold conversations with him."

Violet freezes and slowly picks up her tray. "And y-you're the last person I would think to say t-that to me." She stands up and makes her way to the trash cans, leaving a stunned Sharpener behind.

The bed frame squeals loudly as Violet harshly sits down on top of it, not even bothering watching the guard lock her cell door, as she routinely does. She could feel her eyes start to burn with fresh tears as she tried calming herself down. Yet to no avail, one leaks as she's overwhelmed from her deteriorating self-worth. The more she thought, the more she agreed with what Sharpener said. Joker was the one who started talking to her, Joker was the one who prompted the conversations. She had nothing to give to J. She was worthless, and she can't even talk without stuttering. Her parents were right about everything; she realized. J had to be manipulating her, she couldn't think of another reason why he would talk to her so much.

The sound of a door creaking open swayed her out of her manic state. She shifts to unfortunately see Joker standing in her cell, same as the day he lied to her about Harleen. He smiles slyly and holds up an ID card of an Arkham employee in his stained hand.

"Here's the secret to the magic trick. Figured I might as well, uh, show ya."

Violet quickly wipes away her tears and turns her head opposite of him. She could already feel his attentive gaze burning a hole in her head, which made her heart rate increase from merely thinking about it. As she didn't respond, Joker took a seat next to her, tapping the card against his palm in frustration. She could still feel his eyes roaming her and even heard his breaths coming out of his nose. He suddenly huffs and stands up, walking to the toilet sink combo in the corner of the cell. He promptly tears off toilet paper, wets it in the sink and walks back to the low bed. J stops in front of Violet and crouches on one knee, causing them roughly to be the same height. Violet's heart is now pumping furiously in her chest now, and she's sure Joker can overhear it from how close he is.

Still refusing to look at him, she jumps when he grasps her injured hand and turns her palm upwards. Joker glides the water soaked toilet paper onto her hand, gently cleaning up the dried smeared blood.

"You don't, uh, belong here, doll. You and me both. We belong out in the city of darkness. Causing chaos. We can't be restrained. We're like, uh, wild animals. If we're kept inside a... cage, we'll itch to get out, so we can live." He threw the bloody wad of toilet paper over his shoulder and grabbed Violet's other hand in his own.

"That's why I'm getting us out of here. I can see it's, uh, eating you up inside."

"Why me?" Violet whispers.

Joker laughs through his nose, "Because, my porcelain doll. You have yet to live up to your full potential." He slowly retracts his hands from hers and stands back up. Violet already feels cold without his rare touch. "We'll, uh, talk more tomorrow."

Weeks pass until the two decide to put their escape plan into action. Violet had forgiven Sharpener the day after he insulted her, as he sincerely apologized. Now, she was trying to convince Joker to bring him with them during their escape.

"He can't come," Joker almost growls.

"W-why not? He's nice to me and he's been in here a w-while."

"I don't care if he's the nicest guy in the world. He's not coming."

"What if he a-agrees to work for you?"

J sighs and cracks his neck. Violet continues to look at him with her puppy dog eyes, never looking away. Joker chuckles and leans towards her, entangling his hand in her long hair.

"How about... I, uh, come meet him...and decide for myself. Would you be happy then and, uh, stop nagging me?"

Having J with Violet during lunchtime is a strange sensation. Him being next to her, causes all eyes to be on them at all times. He's a notorious criminal, who has never stepped foot in the cafeteria. That would make anyone stare at him. However, Violet seems to be the only one affected by it. J is humming to himself while eating her pudding, not bothered by the dozens of gazes on himself and his companion.

"Aren't ya... gonna eat that?" He points at her breadstick.

"I-I don't like to eat when p-people are staring."

Joker hums and sets his pudding cup down.

"They're harmless. Just a bit... looney," he chuckles. That doesn't seem to ease her worries, so he stands up at the table. "If you, uh, keep staring at us like the creeps you are, I'll, uh, cut your tongues out of your mouths in your sleep," he exclaims with malice.

Instantly, everyone looks away, no set of eyes are locked on the pair anymore. Violet smiles and picks up her breadstick she was craving.

"T-thank you," Violet says before taking a bite.

"...It was becoming, uh, irritating."

Sharpener finally shows up at the table, setting his tray down next to Violet's. His brows are furrowed in confusion at the intruder, nudging Violet to get an answer.

"O-oh, hi Sharpie."

"Sharpie?" Joker questions.

Sharpener coughs and sits down, "I guess that's a nickname of my nickname."

J turns back to his pudding and eats a spoonful. Violet can tell Joker doesn't like Sharpener already, but it won't hurt to try harder.

"S-sharpener has e-experience of working for someone. I-I think he could be h-helpful to you, J," Violet takes a deep breath after finishing her sentence.

Joker eats another bite and talks with his mouth full, "For who?"

"Sal Maroni. He died in a car crash, so I lost my job and eventually ended up here."

J laughs and swallows the last of the pudding, "How, uh, unfortunate... But, I work very differently from Mister Maroni."

"I've noticed... But I don't care who or what my boss does, I just do what they ask of me."

Joker looks at Violet between the two men who's staring at her food, "If he screws me over, I'll screw you over, dollface."

#Heath Ledger Joker #joker #TDK joker #the joker #the joker fanfiction #the joker x reader #joker x oc #ledger joker x oc #tdk #batman #aslyum #joker x female reader #joker x violet #the joker x oc #joker fanfiction

35 notes · View notes

aliwritesfic · 3 years ago

Note

So since you did the cutest job with my mini golf ask…wondering what the TF boys would be like while tie dying with Frankie and his daughter?! I’m attempting to do that tomorrow with my son lol. Please and thank you if you’d like to explore the idea. 🥰😘

First of all, I am SO SORRY this took so long, I've been so busy with uni and forcing myself to actually do the work this semester (who would've thought I could actually apply myself) but I really enjoyed this, and it's actually made me want to go out and do some tie-dying of my own.

Anyways, here's Tie-Dye Tueaday

W/C: 1.6k

T-Minus 5 Hours Until Disaster

“Daddy?” a soft voice rose Frankie out of his fitful sleep. He distantly felt a tiny, warm hand rest on his cheek.

“Yes, cricket?” he mumbled voice heavy with sleep, struggling to open his heavy eyes. He had stayed up until the small hours of the morning frantically researching for the day, watching YouTube videos, making notes, doing whatever he could to prepare.

“Mommy’s going and said I should wake you up,” Everly pulled herself up onto the bed and sat down directly on Frankie’s bladder. He winced and pushed her off gently, wondering just how she always managed to find the worst spot to sit.

“Have you had breakfast?” Frankie asked, and Everly nodded. He said a silent thanks to his ever-amazing wife, who would be spending the day getting massages and facials and whatever else her heart desired before pushing out twins in less than two months’ time. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around that – there would be two more tiny humans in his life soon. The thought left him exhilarated and riddled with anxiety all at once.

Frankie carried Everly downstairs on his back, grabbing his cap from the dresser on his way. The boys would be here soon – they had agreed that tie dying alone with a hyper four year old was a terrible idea, so they were coming to dye something of their own and help Frankie keep a handle on things. Benny was especially excited to dye his shorts to wear to his next fight.

They were halfway through Coco, Everly’s favourite movie, when the front door opened and in came his three best friends, men he had no relation to but considered brothers. Everly went straight to Benny, who was undoubtedly her favourite of them. Frankie had his suspicion that is was because Benny loaded her up on sugar whenever he could. Sure enough, Frankie could see a packet of candy in the plastic bag Benny carried.

“You ready for this?” Will asked, placing a six pack in the fridge. Frankie sighed and nodded.

“Ready as I can be. It can’t go too badly, right?”

T-Minus 3 Hours Until Disaster

The sun was bright and hot on their backs as they set up. Everly sat in the shade of the oak tree, a cup of lemonade in one hand, and her favourite doll in the other. Frankie had forbidden her from coming out in the sun until the sunscreen was fully absorbed, which according to his watch wouldn’t be for another few minutes. It occurred to him that since becoming a father, his mind was filled with worries that he never even considered beforehand.

Frankie had brought dyes in every colour he could, several plastic tubs had been fished out of storage and so many ties that he was sure he would be finding them all around the yard for weeks to come.

“Whatta ya dying, Ev?” Santi called to Everly.

“Purple!” She responded, holding up a pristine white pair of cotton shorts and a shirt.

“Just purple?” Will asked.

“And pink and blue and green!” Everly jumped up, setting her cup down carefully and ran over. “I want it swirly. You should be rainbow wiggles.” She told her father seriously. Will grinned.

“She’s a natural born leader,” he said with more than a touch of pride.

“Just like her mother,” Frankie replied. He took the clothes that Everly held out and began to scrunch and fold them according to the instructions he had written down while watching YouTube last night. The whole thing seemed a lot easier when he was watching through a screen.

Everly chose her dyes as Frankie folded, occasionally handing a certain colour to one of the boys, telling them that they hadto use it. None of them wanted to defy the four year old, so each accepted his colours without protest. Benny seemed quite thrilled when he was given a colour labelled Hot Barbie Pink.

“So many guys will be so fuckin’ embarrassed to get their ass beat by a guy in pink shorts,” Benny grinned.

“Language, Ben!” Frankie darted a frantic look towards Everly, who stood with a cunning smile on her face. Frankie knew that she knew exactly what she wasn’t supposed to say.

“Fuck! Ass!” she declared. Will snorted and Santi had to turn away, face turning bright red from holding in laughter.

Frankie gaped, lost for words for a moment. “Everly, don’t ever say that, but especially the first one, and especially not in front of mommy, okay?”

“Why not?”

Frankie shot a look to Benny, who at least looked a tiny bit sorry. “They’re big people words. Each time you say one your . . . hair gets less curly.”

Everly, who loved her curly hair, looked stricken. Frankie felt bad about lying to his kid, but not as bad as he would’ve felt if his wife came home to a child cussing like she had just strolled out of the military.

The words seemed forgotten as the dye was applied. Everly was surprisingly artful in the way she applied the dye, carefully creating patterns that didn’t make much sense to Frankie but must have made sense to her.

T-Minus 30 Minutes Until Disaster

The group of them sat around the dining room table, beers for the boys and juice for Everly. Most of them had small flecks of multi-coloured dye on their hands, but Frankie was sure they would come off easity. Everly had scoffed down her lunch, and now sat staring outside, looking antsy.

“Go play if you want to,” Frankie said, “you don’t have to sit here.” Frankie was confident there wasn’t anything in the backyard that could pose a danger to her, and besides, he had a view of almost the whole yard from the table.

Everly tore off like a hurricane, juice forgotten as she ran outside, doll in hand.

“If the twins are anything like her . . .” Santi began, taking a sip of his drink. “Fish, you’re gonna have your hands full.”

“If they’re anything like Ev, they’ll be great kids,” Benny said. Will rose his beer bottle. ‘But yeah, you’re definitely gonna have your hands full.”

“Amen, I’ll drink to that,” he said. Frankie nodded and had a sip himself. They talked for a while about football, Benny’s next fight, Santi’s new flame.

Then a thought occurred to Frankie.

“Is it quiet out there?” he craned his neck to investigate the yard and saw . . . nothing. Frankie shot up from his seat, panic rising in his chest. “Everly?” He almost tripped over himself in his haste to get to the backyard. Every worst case scenario was forming in his head.

“Ev?” Benny was beside him in an instant.

“Daddy?” Everly wandered out from behind the tree, and Frankie took a deep breath, calming himself. She was unscathed . . . except for the dye that now stained her arms, legs, face, hair. She was grinning widely, and held up her doll, who was also covered in a rainbow of dye.

“Cricket, what did you do?” Frankie gaped, wondering just how she managed to get almost every inch of exposed skin in such a short amount of time.

“Miss Mildew wanted her hair to be pretty,” Everly explained.

“Your dolls name is Miss Mildew?” Santi asked, red in the face with held back laughter. Everly nodded proudly. She had heard the word on television one night and latched onto it.

“What do you think is worse,” Will murmured to Benny, “Ev swearing, or Ev covered in dye?”

“Swearing,” Benny said snickering, “you can wash out the dye, you can’t unlearn a word.”

“What word?” Everly asked. Ears of a hawk, Frankie thought.

“The word you’re not allowed to say,” Will said.

“And what word would that be?” A smooth voice behind them almost made Frankie jump out of his skin. His wife, beautiful and terrifying all at once, stood on the patio, one hand on her stomach, the other on her hip.

“Fuck!” Everly declared loudly and proudly.

“Teaching my child new words, I see, Benjamin.”

Benny to his credit, at least looked more apologetic than he did with Frankie.

Frankie’s wife waddled down into the yard and set her gaze on her husband. “That dye won’t make her sick will it?”

“No, no, not at all,” he said. He had specifically brought kid friendly, skin safe, non-toxic dye.

“Good. Then I’m gonna go lie down and try and forget my four-year-old just said the eff-word and is every colour under the sun.” His wife shook her head and rolled her eyes at Benny. Once she was inside, Frankie turned to Everly.

“C’mon, we gotta clean you up,” he reached to pick Everly up who shook her head.

“We gotta see what they look like first!” she said. Frankie considered her point and nodded.

“Alright, cricket,” he said. They unravelled the clothes to a chorus of oohs and aahs, Everly clapped her green hands together as her multi-coloured shorts and top were revealed.

Benny sheepishly wandered over to Frankie as he put everything in the washing machine. “Hey man, I really am sorry about that.”

Frankie shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Just buy the missus as much caffeine as she wants when she’s done breastfeeding and she’ll forget all about it.”

“I hope so. Her bad side is not a place I wanna be.”

Frankie laughed and scooped up Everly in his arms. Her curls were streaked with blue and her cheeks were magenta. “Trust me, she won’t stay mad for long. I don’t think she’s that mad to be honest.”

“You don’t?” Benny sounded unsure.

“Well she didn’t yell, and it looked like she was trying not to laugh. All things considered, I think today was a success story.”

Tagging @sharkbait77 because I think you’d enjoy this

#i love it when kids swear #frankie fix #frankie fic #triple frontier

10 notes · View notes

dayasbun · 5 years ago

Text

Fame - Angus Cloud (4)

Summary- a luckily timed audition leads to you falling for your new and unexpected co-star.

Warnings- okay HI welcome to my first multi chapter series woah?! this is actually so exciting for me like wow especially since angus doesn’t have any fics yet im just really really excited- so warnings! smut for sure, bad words, lotsa fluff, angst- everything in one basically. here comes a ride and I hope you enjoy :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 {reading now}

“Fuck right there- Oh my god please-” You moaned holding his hair. “You never had anyone eat your pussy like this before right?” he said eating deeper as you moaned and squirmed. “Only you baby, this pussy is only you-”

“Yo wake the fuck up, you making weird noises and shit.”

You sat up taking in a deep breath and inspected your surroundings. There stood a worried Angus with a mug in his hand. “I'm fine...” you said quite unconvincingly.

“You sure? I went to make you some tea and came back to you rolling around and groaning and shit, thought that strange netflix monster had come to you or sum.”

“The demogorgan-”

“Yeah that shit!” He sat next to you on the edge of the bed. “Nightmare?” he asked softly as he handed you the tea.

“Well not exactly...” You took the warm mug and took in a long swig of the warm goodness. It's not like you were just going to openly tell him ‘Oh no, I just had a dream about you eating me out and I loved every second of it.’ “Actually yeah, a nightmare.” you lied.

“I hate those, what was yours about?”

“I...a monster ate me alive and I couldn't stop it.��

Angus shook his head. “Damn mamas, I’m sorry. Those suck, I know its like 2 pm, but let’s eat some breakfast and try to forget about it.”

You nodded standing up and stretching “Thanks...for the tea.”

“Of course, don’t girls love tea? Ion know, I don't really be sleeping with girls that often.” He chuckled walking into the small kitchen.

“Tea is amazing!” You exclaimed, following him and sitting on the counter. “I love tea in all seasons, it has so many benefits.”

“Yeah? What’s some of them benefits.”

“Well green tea has amazing antioxidants, and is a more naturally caffeinated drink than coffee- with not as many negative results. But don't get me wrong, I really do love my coffee- anyway! Tea can help straighten and strengthen bones, brighten your smile, and help you lose weight!!”

“Oh wow.” He laughed “I didn't even care about all that tea shit, just wanted to hear your voice. But it was actually kinda interesting.”

“Yeah- and don't worry about a lack of my voice, I never shut up.”

“You right about that; but before you get all defensive, its aight. I like hearing you blab off about random stuff ion care about.”

You felt your face grow hot as you stifled a giggle that wanted to come out. “Thank you. I think I talk too much, but hey, can't really stop it y’know?” Angus nodded as he cracked 5 eggs into a pan. “You just be going off about stuff- actually you was sleep talking a little bit.”

Fuck.

“Yeah? What was I saying?” you asked innocently, hoping he didn't say what he was most definitely about to say.

“Well it was when you had that nightmare. Was the monster a cow or sum? Cuz you kept saying ‘Angus’ so like.” He turned to look at you “I figure it wasn’t me, but it was probably like...some beef monster.”

“Oh yeah, for sure a beef monster.”

“And that beef monster was eating you huh?”

You smoothly tucked your hair behind your ear and nodded with a sweet smile “Mhm.”

Angus gave you a quick up and down look before turning around and continuing to scramble the eggs. You had to change the current topic or you'd die of embarrassment, so you decided to bring up the topic of the show instead. “Do you know which scenes we’re filming tomorrow?”

“Yeah, no sex scenes until next week. Tomorrow they finna do you coming back and me reminiscing on the old times.”

“Okay cool. I have those lines down, pretty simple...” You mumbled.

“Yeah me too.”

A butcher knife couldn't even cut the tension in the room right now. Fuck, a chainsaw couldn't either.

“So like... I’m gonna go change and I'll be right back? Sound good?”

“You can wear summa my stuff. If you want- you don’t got to i'm just offering.”

“Oh that'd be great thanks! You know my trailer is just so far away!” You joked, knowing that it was only next door. You hopped off of the counter and followed him back into the room you two had just come out of.

“You just want one big shirt? Girls be doing that alot nowadays.”

“Yeah, thanks that'd be great...”

“So the biggest shirt I got got some barbecue stains on it- ignore it. I just went off on some spicy wings the other day-”

You burst out laughing and sat on the bed “Gus it’s fine, gimme!” You pulled your shirt off and held out your hands. He turned back around to find you only in your bra and shorts.

“Yooooo-”

“Its fine, we have to be completely naked with each other next week. Titties are just titties.” You took the shirt out of his hands and put it on. After pulling off the shorts that you wore underneath the shirt; that was more like a dress- and folding them, you walked back into the kitchen and reclaimed your spot on the counter.

“Well I know one problem we won't have!” You stated with a smirk.

“Yeah, and what's that?”

“Drake was worried you wouldn't be able to ‘get it up’...but honestly, I don’t think it'll be too hard.”

“Why you think that?”

“Look down.”

Sure, Angus wouldn't let you live down the wet dream you had about him for quite a while, but you'd never let him live down the boner he got- just from seeing you in a bra.

“So. Let's get to the real real.” Storm said pulling her knees up to her chest with a grin. “What the hell is going on with you and Angus?”

You, Storm and Daya were hanging in your trailer. You three were the only girls that didn't have scenes to film right now, Alexia, Barbie and the rest of the female cast were shooting night scenes. They had helped you set up the place to seem more homey, and now the newly formed trio you were a part of was in your bed with microwave popcorn, juicy juice, and twizzlers.

“Nothing Storm! Actually nothing I-”

“Nope, don't do that.” Z quickly cut you off. “Everyone can see it, it’s like what everyone on set talks about.”

“What?-”

“Plus, he talks about you too much, and you do the same with him! Earlier I said I wanted to pop some microwave popcorn and you started telling me about some conspiracy he told you about popcorn and microwaves, how they’re a secret way in for the government- like girl! Don't tell me you're so whipped that you're out here believing this stuff!”

“OKAY! Okay! I get it...look Gus is-”

“Gus?! You call him Gus?”

“Yeah?-”

“He literally hates that nickname with a passion. He gotta love you.” Storm chuckled grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Okay well Angus is cute. He’s sweet and funny and caring- BUT. I won’t let anything happen between us, it’s like...business. This field is acting- and I don't think it would be good for us to do anything more, especially during filming.”

Z sighed. “Falling for your costars is weird.”

“Yeah.” Storm chimed in. “Our girl Daya been there and done that...but it never really affected her acting. She's so talented that she could keep it hidden off screen and focus on her character. I mean I know you talented Y/N...but you not my big sis like Z, so I don't really know how you'd be able to deal with it yet. Drake already seemed a bit iffy about it because he could tell you two had a little something going, but the thing comforting him is y'all are talented. So he knows you can do it- I know you can too.”

“Yeah he sent us a letter about it...it's just hard. I can't lose this role, I've come so far.”

“I don't think you’ll lose it. I think you'll be fine. Just keep a business mindset when on set. What goes on off screen and behind closed doors is your business, girl. Drake or nobody can stop that- Jesus can't even stop that!”

You and Storm giggled at Zendaya’s last comment. “Yeah yeah yeah...okay I get it guys. I got this- period.”

“Period.”

“Period...So were you one of those girls that watched all the Fez scene compilations on Youtube and drooled?” Storm teased you.

“No!” You said firmly, knowing you were lying.

“Oh she definitely was.”

“I wasn't!”

“I just don't see it! Angus is just not attractive to me, he looks like one of those guys that stop you at the gas station with a ghetto ass group of friends- he rubs his hands together and then screams ‘Hey baby lemme get yo numbaaaa!!!!’“

In response, you practically fell over laughing “Stoppp no!”

The rest of the night was filled with giggles and whispers, and by 1 AM, you, Z, and Storm were all huddled up in your little twin trailer bed. They snored softly but you couldn't seem to sleep. Just as you were .1 seconds away from drifting off, your phone buzzed next to you.

Angus☁️: u uppppp

-oh wow yeah that's not the most fboy thing ever to send at 1:27 am

Angus☁️: see all you had to say was yes you didn't have to do allat

-can i help you mr cloud

Angus☁️: what typa help you offering?

-whatever help you need.

Angus☁️: you finna have some more beef dreams tonight?

-you finna get a boner if you see me in my bra again?

Angus☁️: maybe.

-then i'll say maybe too.

Angus☁️: you're too much

-i know i am, did you film today?

Angus☁️: ye i had some scenes wit jacob

-wit

Angus☁️: leave me alone

-you texted me

-and wow you sound really mature rn not at all like a five year old

Angus☁️: if i was w you rn id make you regret that

-was that supposed to be a threat or a way to try to make me sext

Angus☁️: both

-you should go text all the hoes you have waiting for you at home

Angus☁️: im texting them at the same time

-boy...

Angus☁️: im plAyin

Angus☁️: only you :)

-getting soft???

Angus☁️: no and i wish this was instagram dms so i could unsend it fuck

-fuck

Angus☁️: thats another thing you was saying during your ‘nightmare’

-STOP NO I WAS NOT

Angus☁️: yeah i know you wasnt lmao i just like messing w you

-you can mess w me whenever you want to

Angus☁️: oh bet????

-goodnight angus

Angus☁️: nah i want you to tell me about me messing w you

Angus☁️: damn you really left

Angus☁️: thats wrong

Angus☁️: doing me dirty

-GTS MY PHONE KEEPS GOING OFF

Angus☁️: then put it on silent?

-NO

Angus☁️: ill stop being annoying if you come over here

-i cant, im w z and storm too

Angus☁️: shit okay well it was worth a shot

-why, what was you planning to do

Angus☁️: cuddle

-its fr time for you to go bed, i think your sleepiness is making you too soft and taking the hood away

Angus☁️: goodnight

-goodnight

Angus☁️: gn

-gn

Angus☁️: night

-night

Angus☁️: GOODNIGHT

-OKAY GN

Angus☁️: STOP REPLYING

Angus☁️: night

taglist:

@nikkixostan @melaninmarvel @celiajrs @siriuslycollins

#euphoria #angus cloud #fez euphoria #fezco euphoria #hbo euphoria #angus cloud fic #fezco imagine #fezco x reader #fezco fluff #fezco fic

392 notes · View notes

hopeishappinessff · 6 years ago

Text

Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 56.2

Hope

My eyes drooped with the desperate desire to sleep, but the Netflix movie on the screen held my attention too much for me to drift off and risk missing the ending. It was pretty late, well after midnight I was sure, but the glare from the large flat screen TV kept the room perfectly lit which also aided in keeping me awake.

Only hours ago I was a complete hot, blubbering mess teetering on the brink of calling it quits with the father of my child. My goal when I arrived at his mother’s house was to simply discuss with him all that was on my mind and to let him know that I didn’t have any further interest in dating him. It’d been a week since I’d seen or been in contact with him and I thought for sure he was over me, which gave me ample confidence to go and break up with him for good. Sure, the talk I had with my aunt helped me to understand just how much I love and care about him, but it also empowered me to the point that I became determined to stick up for what I believed was right… which was ending my relationship with him. I’d gone as far as coaxing myself into believing that we would be better off co-parenting, with no romantic ties whatsoever.

But, when I arrived at his house with only one mission in mind… my determination faltered the moment he set foot out of his bathroom and I laid eyes on him. He was such a sight to see… a man’s man with the body to show for it. I instantly became mesmerized by his masculine build, because it reminded me of exactly what I had… a protector who loved me and cherished the ground that I walked on and would go to the ends of the earth for me and now for his child. That was a turn on for me… just physically seeing him standing there, exuding the confidence of Captain America, but knowing that behind that exterior he was really the biggest sweetheart with more love to give than Cupid.

At that exact moment, I knew there was no way I could end things with him. I loved him more than I could ever fully understand or explain and I wasn’t willing to let that go just because I was basically in my feelings over a night out with his boys. Hell, I was the one who talked him into going. Of course, I wasn’t expecting him to come home with some female’s number and tits in his phone, but I deeply regretted not giving him the opportunity to explain to me what’d happened. The thing about Chris was that he had certainly done a few things in his past to make me lose all trust in him, but I couldn’t recall a time when he’d blatantly lied to me. He may not have always been open about his extracurricular activities, but if ever confronted about any of it he was always painfully honest.

“What are you thinking about?” I’d become lost in my thoughts and nearly flinched at the sound and feeling of his voice vibrating through his chest as he spoke. I was curled against his side, in his bed, watching the Netflix movie. I wasn’t even intending to stay here with him, let alone get comfortable enough to want to call it a night right here at his side after the movie was over. Yet, here I was nestled contentedly at his side and I was completely satisfied.

“Nothing…” I muttered in the midst of a yawn.

Chris stayed quiet, though I could still feel his stare piercing the top of my head. And he was probably going to remain in that stance until I actually looked at him and really addressed what was on my mind.

Tilting my head back to get a good look at him, I frowned at the sight of his scratched face. I couldn’t see the scratch that I left on the side of his neck, but the one on his right cheek was bright pink now after I’d demanded that he let me clean it before we climbed into bed. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do for the darkening bruise beneath his left eye. I cringed at the sight of it and the minor swelling… I couldn’t believe I’d allowed myself to get so angry that I actually put my hands on him and Lord knows I never thought I could cause this much damage to a man twice my size. There was an ice pack on the night stand beside his bed, but he had yet to apply it to his eye, even after I fussed about him needing it to at least make the swelling go down.

“You’re entirely too pretty to have your face all scratched and bruised like that… I’m so sorry Charlie.”

He cracked the most handsome smile and shook his head “I probably deserved to have my whole ass beat, honestly.”

With a soft chuckle, I meshed my head against the side of his chest momentarily before looking back up at him “No, you don’t deserve that. Don’t say that.”

His eyes stayed on me… they roamed every inch of my face as if he were trying to read me and eventually his hard stare made me blush and I looked away.

“Hey,” With a sigh, I craned my neck to look back up at him, “I don’t think you should ever physically discipline baby girl. You hit hard as shit.”

I couldn’t contain my laughter at that point as I buried my face against his chest and trembled from laughing so hard.

“I really thought you were gonna say something serious.” I cackled.

“I’m serious though.” He chuckled.

“I can’t see myself being the type of parent to really discipline my child anyway.” I said once my laughter calmed down.

“You never got whooping’s when you were a kid?”

I shook my head with it still pressed snuggly against him “No, no whooping’s or punishments or anything like that.”

He smacked his lips playfully and huffed “I mean I guess I get why… you were like the perfect child. Little golden girl… ain’t even wanna get down and dirty in the dirt and mud with us whenever you would come over to play. Just you and Dez off in the cut playing with baby dolls and shit.”

And just when I thought I would get a break from all the laughter, he had me rolling again and praying that I wouldn’t pee right in the bed.

“Oh shut up, I was not a little golden girl.”

“Yes you were! Literally and figuratively.”

“Whatever,” I giggled, “So does that mean you don’t want your daughter to be a girly girl?”

He didn’t say anything for a while and I looked up to see him stroking the hairs sprouting from his chin with his eyes squinted thoughtfully at the TV “Not necessarily a girly girl. Like, I still want her to be able to have a nice balanced relationship with Jaylen where she can feel comfortable playing with him in like, unisex activities. But I don’t mind the thought of seeing little plastic heels, and Barbie’s, and little princess dresses all over the place. I wanna be able to spoil him with all the shit I liked as a kid… the hot wheels, the nerf guns, the game stations and all that. But since she’s gonna be a daddy’s girl, that automatically means she’s gonna be a spoiled princess.”

My brows were furrowed by the end of his speech and I frowned “Who said my baby is gonna be a daddy’s girl?”

With a crooked smile, he turned his attention back to me “She will be… trust me.”

I rolled my eyes playfully and planted my right hand against his hard chest, right over the exact space he’d permanently etched my name… right over his heart “Are you ready to meet her?”

As usual, I could feel his stare already on me and of course I kept my eyes on the tip of my index finger as it swirled around my name because I had yet to get used to those intense eyes “I don’t know if I’ve been more ready for something in my entire life.”

His voice was so gentle and reassuring, which made me feel good and I smiled “Me too. But… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.”

For whatever reason, I could feel his body tensing beneath me and with a quick glance up at him, I could see that he was already looking at me with a hint of concern in his eyes “Nervous about what?”

“I don’t know… I’ve never been a mom before. I’ve never experienced this whole process, you know…” “But you know you’re gonna be amazing though, right?” He spoke softly and the sound of his voice alone ignited the butterflies in my belly. And to think this was the same man I was ready to call it quits with just hours ago.

Of course, it took a while and I was out of breath halfway through, but with Chris’s help I pushed myself up into an upright position. I sat Indian style, because it was the most comfortable position for me, and used my right hand to rub gentle circles around the front of my belly.

“And how do you know that?”

“That you��re gonna be amazing?” He asked and I nodded to confirm, “Because you’re an amazing person already. I mean, look at all the stupid shit I’ve ever done since I met you. Even before our relationship started, like just when we were friends, you’ve always been there to take care of me. I don’t know… you’re just an obvious natural nurturer. Not to mention, the first time I ever witnessed you interact with Jaylen I instantly knew I wanted to knock you up.”

“What?” I cocked a brow curiously and laughed, “Why would you say that?”

“Because man,” He chuckled and rested his hands against his stomach, casually linking his fingers together “I really wanted you to be his mother… like, forreal. But obviously that couldn’t happen, so the next option was to get you pregnant.”

“And that meant you were okay with the idea of having two children?”

He nodded and eyed me closely with a smirk “You thought I was joking when we was gettin’ it in at your dad’s house on Thanksgiving night… and I told you I wanted you to have my babies? I was dead ass.”

“Well clearly.” I snorted, glancing down at my three sizes too big belly to emphasize just how ‘dead ass’ he was.

The smirk remained on his face, even as he bit down into the center of his bottom lip and eyed my belly “And I don’t know how normal it is to feel this way… but I swear I can get hard just sitting here looking at you so… pregnant. It’s really a major turn-on.”

“It actually is some type of fetish to be turned on by pregnant women. I’ve even heard that sex is on a whole different level with a pregnant woman.”

He didn’t respond to what I’d said, but I noticed the way his eyes danced around my belly a bit longer before sluggishly raising up to my breasts where they stalled for a few seconds, then finally landed on my lips. He’d dropped his smirk and now wore a somber expression and his jaw clenched every few seconds. I didn’t want to be caught staring for too long, but I honestly couldn’t help myself. I was even anticipating him making a move, just by the way he was looking at me, but he didn’t. My mind drifted briefly to what he’d said about getting hard just from looking at me, so naturally my eyes drifted down toward his crotch, but I quickly discovered that his comforter was pulled up over it and shifted my gaze to the TV before he caught my wondering eyes…

“It’s hard.”

I guess I failed to look away fast enough. I was caught and in that moment, I had two options… I could either pretend like I hadn’t heard him because he’d spoken so low that I barely did, or I could face him and acknowledge that I had indeed heard him… loud and clear.

Because my curiosity got the best of me, I found myself staring at him but instead of looking back at me, he was looking down at his lap which I guess he could see clearly from his angle.

“You wanna see?” He asked, suddenly shifting his gaze to me with a mischievous smirk.

“You’re bad.” I giggled softly, though that was only the surface… inside, my heart was pounding and of course the butterflies were in the middle of their ritual. His brashness had my nerves all over the place and the same look that was in his eyes in the water the day we had the maternity shoot… it was there now. I couldn’t even see his hands anymore at this point. I knew one of his favorite pastimes was to lounge with a hand tucked into the waistband of his shorts, but in this particular hormonally charged scenario… I had no clue where they were.

“You know when I went out with the boys last weekend, you were the only thing I could think about… you and those huge jugs,” He smiled and I shook my head and laughed, “I was so fucking horny.”

“You were huh? Probably because of your new little friend you met at the club, don’t ya think?”

He shook his head slowly and swiped his tongue out over his bottom lip, then wedged his teeth into the skin of it “No… honestly, I couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet your pussy tasted.”

The room suddenly became unbearably hot in that instant and my cheeks became even hotter. Even the tips of my ears were burning with bashfulness, so I dropped my longing gaze from him because I couldn’t take it anymore. The moment my eyes dropped to the surface of the bed, I could feel him shifting abruptly away from the bed. His footsteps padded lightly from his side around to mine and suddenly I could feel his body heat directly behind me because my back was facing the edge.

“You gone let me taste it again?’ He was so ridiculously close to my right ear, but not quite touching… I shivered from the feeling of his warm breath against my skin alone. Ever so lightly, he leaned in closer and pressed his lips against the skin beneath my ear and I shut my eyes and sighed. What has gotten into him I thought as he pressed his lips against my skin once more and slowly dragged them from the tingling space beneath my ear to the right side of my jawline. He lingered there, deathly close to my lips, and stared at the side of my face with no remorse.

“I think I have a pregnant pussy fetish… and I haven’t even been in it yet.” Well if my panties weren’t wet before, they were surely soaking now… I could only hope that when I moved from this spot on his bed there wasn’t a puddle under me. His lips made their way to my skin again, the skin of my jaw, and he pressed them against me until he was finally hovering over the corner of my mouth. The slightest turn of my head would send my lips crashing into his, and that’s clearly what he wanted… so I turned my head. He was already prepared for me and before I knew it, his sweet pecks became hungry lip smacking. His tongue slithered with precision and I moaned into his mouth, relishing in the feeling of that appendage roaming the inside of my mouth with familiarity. I could feel his left-hand tangling with the base of my neck, creeping up until he caught a hefty handful of the hair in my bun. With no real desire to pull away from this kiss, Chris tugged my head back and reluctantly removed his lips from mine only to shift them down to the side of my neck now that it was fully exposed.

He made out with my neck for a while, swirling his tongue ‘round and ‘round against my scorching skin and suckling here and there to mark his territory. I wore a t-shirt that once belonged to him and barely did much to cover the bottom of my stomach, and I wore it with no bra, which he seemed to quickly figure out while his lips remained one with my neck. His hands eased down to my chest and he cupped both breasts through the material of the shirt. The feeling of it, plus his fingers rubbing against my nipples left me floating mercilessly on cloud nine. My eyes were closed, I was actually floating, or at least that’s what it felt like anyway, and I was moaning enough to get us caught because at this point his mom was fast asleep in her room just up the hall. But he didn’t seem to care… he was too occupied with pulling the hem of the shirt up over my belly. I raised my arms at the last minute to help him pull the fabric off swiftly and he did, but stopped abruptly. He was behind me, still deathly close, but I couldn’t see him… I could only hear his harsh breath.

“Lay back.” The husky sound of his voice… it made me melt. I did what I was told, feeling the palms of his hands against the top of my back to help me as I maneuvered myself down onto my back. He made sure that I was comfortable and that my head wasn’t dangling off the side of the bed, before leaning forward over me and enveloping my right nipple in his mouth. Something about my breasts seemed to be a turn on for him… I could tell that just by the way he groaned against me the moment he had it in his mouth.

The feeling of his tongue swirling around my sensitive nipple like a lollipop had me gripping desperately at his sides, since he was hovering halfway over my face. He sucked and licked and nipped for what felt like forever as his left hand fondled with the nipple of my left breast. I clung to him with my eyes shut, really focusing on keeping quiet because I couldn’t imagine having to explain to Ms. Joyce what was going on in here. Tonight would be a task, I was sure, because it didn’t really matter what the circumstances were… Chris knew what he liked, and that was to actually hear how much I liked what he was doing to me. He shifted his mouth over to my left breast, certainly not forgetting to toy with the right nipple as his tongue flicked against me. Impulsively, because his chest was indeed right over my face, I pulled him closer to me and craned my neck to press my lips against his skin. I kissed him in a few different spots , then swiped my tongue out against him and finally flicked it over his nipple. His body jerked lightly with surprise and I smirked… I still wasn’t sure how he was obviously very horny, but not expecting any type of pleasure in return. For whatever reason, it was clear that his sex drive was through the roof lately… but he wouldn’t take it any further than pleasing me. It’s almost like he got a kick out of seeing me writhe with intense pleasure… like he got off on seeing me get off.

I became so enthralled with leaving my love marks all over his colorful chest, I hadn’t even noticed that he had shifted from my breasts and he somehow managed to get my shorts and panties halfway down my thighs. He had me distracted with his smooth motions and his focus, so I momentarily forgot all about his hovering chest while I watched him somehow pull the shorts and panties all the way down my legs until they were completely off.

I didn’t know if I could ever really get used being completely nude under Chris’s intense stare, especially with the bright screen of his oversized television lighting up the entire room. There was nothing left to the imagination… my body was his to scrutinize, but he never failed to make me feel like anything less than a goddess with the way he looked at me. The tips of his fingers roamed from the sides of my hips to the taut skin of my stomach. He slithered them along the edges of my stomach to the sides of my breasts, where he lingered for a moment before gliding them up my chest and finally to each side of my face. I was still upside down and gawking at him, oddly with my eyes crossing because he was slowly closing in on my mouth. My eyes shut just as he connected and we simultaneously groaned against each other as he laid a kiss more beautiful than Spiderman and Mary Jane’s on me.

I felt like I could stay in that position with his lips fully connected to mine in the most sensual of ways for the rest of my life, but he had very different plans. After a few more earth-shattering seconds, he pulled away and started the trail back down all over again. First stop was my breasts, right first then the left, then he left a trail of wet kisses right down the center of my belly, then finally he ended his assault right at the center of my parted thighs. I gasped the moment his tongue connected… he slithered it out and flicked it right over my throbbing clit teasingly. Then he flicked again, and again, and again… but he never did more than that. He was killing me slowly was what he was doing… I hated to be teased and he knew that. He also knew that I was completely at his mercy and he used that to his advantage.

Suddenly I could feel his fingers against me, pushing my lips aside to give himself a clear path to exactly where he needed to go. Again, he flicked only the tip of his tongue, only this time he let it linger before gliding it down to my opening. I could feel it rolling down right into me like a dog preparing to lap up a fresh bowl of water. He bobbed his head up and down several times, dipping in and out of me like a small penis. The feeling had me clenching around his tongue and him burying his fingers into the skin of my thighs.

Eventually he made his way back up to my clit and from there… he slurped it right into his mouth and wagged his tongue back and forth until I could barely breathe. I tried hard to keep as quiet as I could for the sake of not getting caught, but his precision and skill were truly blowing my mind. When it came to his sexuality, Chris wasn’t shy or sloppy at all. His aim was always to please and I could almost feel the concentration radiating from him as he worked to make me pass out. He was very strategic with his craft and the only thing I could really think as I lay there with his crotch hovering right over my face was how much I hoped other girls were able to experience something as phenomenal as this at some point in their lives, but not with this one… this one, and his tongue, were all mine.

I would have laughed at my own crude thoughts had I not been so consumed with Chris who was on an obvious mission to consume me. Instead, I zoned in on what was in my face… his crotch. There was no way I could let him lift me to the highest peak of cloud nine for the second time and not return the favor, so with the nastiest desire to make him feel amazing… I reached out for the elastic band of his basketball shorts.

As expected, he froze almost immediately from the feeling of my fingertips grazing against his bare torso and I could feel him peering down at me. I didn’t let his wondering eyes deter me though… I maintained my focus as I tugged at his shorts until they were halfway down his thighs. As if I were sitting at the dinner table waiting to be served a succulent meal, my mouth watered at the sight of his erection bulging literally halfway out of his boxers. It’d been entirely too long since I’d been up close and personal with the thing and oh my, was it a sight to see.

Smiling mischievously, I glanced down at him only to find him gawking right at me, then reached for the elastic of his briefs to yank them down and out of the way. His raging penis literally popped right out at me, narrowly missing my forehead as it wobbled into position… aiming directly at me.

“You weren’t gonna do anything about this?” I asked, eyeing him momentarily. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even move a muscle as he continued to stare at me through those piercing eyes. I giggled, seductively, and refocused my attention on him… all of him. My right hand reached forward to grab ahold of his shaft and I was simply amazed by its warmth and weight in my hand. I really felt like I could lay there all night analyzing every single inch of it, but clearly we were both entirely too aroused for that. so without wasting another second… I eased forward and widened my mouth over the tip.

He grunted cutely and I could feel his legs tensing beneath my grasp, which obviously meant he was just as sensitive as I in this moment and I knew it wouldn’t take much longer for either of us to reach our peaks. With my lips still latched only around the tip, I swirled my tongue around it a few times and slowly inched forward to introduce more of him to my mouth. He hissed and remained still above me, watching my every move. It felt good to be in control… to have him under a spell from my touch alone.

“I don’t think I told you to stop.” I slid him out of my mouth with a pop and glared at him, just as stunned by my own daring statement as he looked. See, with the way these hormones were set up and the extremely compromising position we were in… he should have been lucky I hadn’t wrapped my legs around his head and locked him into position at this point.

“Feisty tonight?” He muttered just before I smirked and slid him back into my mouth, “Fuck.”

Again, he continued to sit there for a few seconds intrigued by my actions, before he finally snapped out of it and buried his face back in my gushing center. I would never admit it to him, but in that moment I came so close to snapping my mouth, and teeth, shut around him because the urge to bite into my bottom lip hit me hard as soon as his mouth connected with my clit. I didn’t know how good of an idea it was to engage in this position, knowing just how horny we both were… but Lord knows I wouldn’t stop him or his assault on my entire vagina.

In my mind, I felt like I had a couple of points to prove to him. For one, I felt compelled to please him to the best of my abilities because lately he’d been making it all about me. I was determined to make him feel so good that his knees literally gave out. And two, most importantly… I felt like I needed to make sure he knew that I was his one and only. I was territorial with Chris. Perhaps I didn’t show it as much as he did with me, but I could feel the boiling pot stirring within when he explained that there was some girl all over him when he went out with the boys. Sure he’d thoroughly explained his truth to me and we literally hashed it out and moved on, but I hadn’t fully come to terms with the thought of any other female touching him but me.

I slurped him in and out of my mouth with a vengeance and my God did it turn me on more than I ever could have imagined when I felt and heard him pull his mouth away from me occasionally to express his gratitude. He often groaned right against me and that combined with the feeling of him flexing his hips forward reflexively, wedging his length further into my mouth, had me convulsing in his grasp. That was only my first orgasm of the night and I struggled to keep it together so that I could get him to his.

Keeping my mouth formed into an air tight suction, I raised both hands and rotated them up and down along his shaft because there was no way I could fit all of him into my mouth. There was spit and precum drizzling along the sides of my cheeks, but the sloppiness of it all only fueled me and turned me on more.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiit! Uhhhhhhh… fuck Sy’Diyah!’ Chris groaned like a mad man. He was close, I could tell that just by the way he cursed like a sailor and pumped himself harder into my mouth and fists. Eventually I had to shut my eyes and really focus on not gagging… even with my hands in placed to keep him from choking me to death, he still managed to deep throat me a few times and I, somehow, managed to not die every time he did it. I moaned just as loud as he and temporarily forgot that we were in his mother’s house or even still on this planet at this point. Suddenly I could feel two of his fingers probing at my opening and I couldn’t do much more than moan and take it because he had me locked in position. Those fingers slithered inside and quickly moved in synch with his tongue to get me to my peak. Moaning loudly with him still buried in my mouth, I swiftly popped him out and used my right hand to continue to jerk him as I leaned up and suckled his balls into my mouth. He continued to push his fingers in and out of me and his tongue lashed like crazy against my clit. Not a drop of my juices went unnoticed… he made sure to lap up everything I had to offer.

“God Chris!’ I squealed, praying I wouldn’t break the skin beneath my bottom lip by biting into it too hard. That was it… we were going to get caught, I just knew it. This boy had me so wide open, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut even if I tried.

Suddenly and with not even a millisecond of warning, the huskiest, sexiest, most beautiful sounding groan rolled from his mouth followed by a guttural “Fuck!” and as I became distracted by the sound of him expressing just how good he felt, I felt a warm thick liquid hit me smack dab in the center of my face. With a half gasp, half moan I looked up and jerked my head to the right just as another stream of cum flew directly at my face. This time I got hit in my left cheek with it, but I couldn’t even properly fuss at him for it. He seemed to have lost his mind in the ensuing seconds and I damn near clenched my thighs right around his neck when I felt his tongue skip my vagina altogether… this boy stuck his tongue right between my butt cheeks! He literally clamped his hands down on my cheeks, spread them wide, and dove right into the foreign territory. I wanted to be upset, disgusted, and turned off… but my God did it feel good!

He was clearly riding the powerful waves of his orgasm and at the highest peak of pleasure, because now he wasn’t even thinking… he was just going crazy. He slurped around, in there, nearly wedging his tongue right into my asshole, but then he suddenly leaned back up and yanked himself off me. He shifted himself completely away from the bed, leaving me panting with my head dangling from the edge as I used my hands to wipe his children off my face and onto his comforter. I couldn’t quite register what he was doing or where he’d even gone, but again… he didn’t give me more than a second to figure it out before I felt his mouth engulf my entire vagina all over again. Of course, I couldn’t see past my huge belly, but I quickly figured out that he’d moved around to the other side of the bed to face me head on. I wasn’t even sure if he walked, ran, or jumped over the bed but he swiftly latched his hands onto my thighs and yanked me down to the edge of the bed.

I was speaking some kind of gibberish at this point and clutching desperately at my breasts with my thighs hanging over his broad shoulders. Was this boy trying to bury his entire head in my vagina… because that’s surely what it seemed like. Once upon a time my fingers were busy fondling my nipples, but that was over the moment he extended his arms up and snatched my wrists down. His hands gripped onto mine and after a while, I understood exactly why… the last time we were in this very position, he pushed me into what felt like another galaxy. This time… he was attempting to push me to the brink of death.

“Chris… Chris… please…” I chanted softly, because eventually when a man is laying more pleasure on your body than you know how to comprehend… it gets difficult to even find most of your senses along with your ability to speak. It all happened pretty quickly after that… I yanked my legs up from his shoulders and slammed my feet into the front of them instead. I needed to get him away from me now because I could feel the looming orgasm teetering in my near future and if he didn’t stop soon, I was going to die… plain and simple. His tongue reached those unbelievable depths within me, then he snatched it out and swirled it all the way around my vagina… then I came. I squirted, like a fire hydrant, and trembled like I was having a full blown seizure. I wanted so desperately to toss my hands up into my hair and yank it right out of my own head, but he still had my arms locked down while he continued to swirl his tongue around until he lapped up every drop.

For a moment he released my right hand, only so he could use the fingers of his left hand to spread my lips to give him ample space to continue on, but I quickly latched my hand onto the curls at the top of his head and tried to snatch him away. That only resulted in him grunting harshly and moving his hand right back up to yank my hand out of his hair then slamming it down on the mattress beside me. And he kept up his assault, again making his way back down between my cheeks, which admittedly so… made me feel so self-conscious. I’d never had anyone that intimately close to my butt, but it was something about the way that Chris flicked his tongue back and forth like a pro and simultaneously rotated his thumb against my clit that had me squirting, once again, right in his mouth. The only thing left for me to do was slam my eyes shut and squeeze them… it was insane what he was doing to my body.

“Shit.” He muttered, lips still planted firmly against me. It was as if he couldn’t bring himself to move his face… like, he seemed to be stuck right there with his mouth intact with me.

Three orgasms in one session, two within minutes of each other, and none of it involving sex. As I laid there staring up at the dark ceiling, attempting to regain my strength and catch my breath… I couldn’t help but wonder what sex would be like with him again. In all honesty, I was almost afraid of the thought of going that far with him. After almost a full year of pint up energy and sexual tension, I imagined him quite frankly blacking out on me right in the middle of the act. It nearly happened just a few minutes ago… he lost himself, but not enough to actually hurt me. But in the midst of actual sex… I couldn’t fathom how he’d act.

“I think I just lost my mind for a minute.” He mumbled, finally pulling back from me. He was still ridiculously close though… I could feel the warmth of his breath tickling against the inside of my thighs.

I didn’t quite have the words to say to him just yet, so I continued to lay there blinking sluggishly because I was completely drained at this point.

“Hope?” His voice was so soft and didn’t even seem like it would come from the savage that was here just a second ago.

“Hmm?”

“You good?”

Smirking with a shake of my head, I licked my dry lips and sighed “Honestly… no.”

He snickered quietly and shifted from the floor to the bed and I shut my eyes when I felt the bed dipping from his weight beside me. I didn’t even know if I could face this man after what he’d just done to me.

“What’s wrong?” Oh how sweet… he sounded so concerned after he’d just literally tried to eat me alive.

“I just… I can’t…”

“You can’t what?” I could hear the smile in his voice, but I still refused to look at him.

“Just… go to sleep Chris.”

He full out laughed at that point and snuggled himself close to me, gliding one hand against the top of my belly while the other lingered over my head and toyed with my hair. He pressed his lips lovingly against the side of my jaw and just before I dozed off, because I was just that exhausted… I frowned at the feeling of his newest erection tapping at the side of my thigh.

#chrisbrown #chrisbrownff #chrisbrownfanfic #jasminesanders #chrisbrownfanfiction #jasminesandersff #teambreezy #teambreezyff #fanfiction #fanfic

12 notes · View notes

imbriums-blog · 7 years ago

Text

hello my angels ! i’m sorry this is so late but i’m sarah & i’m 18 yrs old & live in the hellhole that is ohio so the est timezone ! i’m ur token harry potter nerd & lover of all things musical... anyways u can hear more about 5/10 of my problematic children under the cut ! i’m gonna try to keep it short but i lov to talk so we’ll see ! if you’re willing to plot give this post a big mf like & i’ll come crawlin’ to ur ims !

— ✯ | barbara delaney savenkov ! + pinterest board !

tw: death, murder

laura harrier, cisfemale, she/her — have you met barbara delaney savenkov yet ? the twenty-three year old is known for being both poised and enticing, but also very skeptical and deceiving. born in san francisco, barbie now lives in soho, waiting tables at the fork and assassinating people on the side for some extra cash. + wanted connections !

so barbara was born n raised in san francisco, california to a solidly middle class family. her parents were divorced growing up, although they were friendly & got along well enough to be friends & co-parent barbie. she’d always been quite an idealist like Yes The World Is Good but when she was twenty, her dad had died due to a rogue heart attack that seemingly happened for no reason & it completely shattered barbara.

that’s when a local gang found her, at her ultimate low, & roped her into their business. she stayed w them for two years or so & at some point or another barbara started to realize that she didn’t think this business & way to make money was a good one. eventually, they starting cutting pay & barbara started to feel like she was bein manipulated. working w the gang kind of made her give up her optimism & is what truly formed her into the stone cold but somehow still elegant & captivating barbie she is today ! her idealistic attitude & never-ending optimism died with all of the shady shit that gang made her do.

then barbara was offered a job as an assassin for a powerful man doin some shady shit & she was unable to refuse even tho her first instinct was to turn it down – it offered great money & stability, & with the impression that she’d only be hurting people who deserved it, barbara shakily accepted the deal & left the gang !

she’s not pleased w the fact that she’s murdering ppl for a living, obviously, but she tries to make do with what she has & tells herself that the ppl she’s killing deserve it but !! messy !

personality-wise, barbara comes off as super intimidating at first n like she just doesn’t have feelings… super proper n always sitting upright n stiff as fuck… scares ppl away bc she seems like a robot at first

she's that kid who studies for the test like 3 weeks before it actually happens and has color coordinated highlighting and bullet journals.. she wants to be on top of everything, constantly – she doesn’t like feeling unorganized or like she’s falling apart ? i think it’s partially bc she tends to over perfect areas of her life like that, and like color coordinating her closet and making sure everything is tidy to make up for the Mess that is her secret career ??

one of the most annoying things ever is how perfect she seems on the surface ?? like, she likes everybody n is probably the type of person who rescues stray kittens from trees n sings as little birdies fly down & comb her hair or some shit but anyone close to barbie in real life knows she is a hardcore mess

that friend who’s like “oh my god i look so fat in this picture” n literally everybody groans bc shut the fuck up karen ur perfect

could literally say “fuck off” to somebody n the tone of voice she uses would make them think she was complimenting them

— ✯ | cordelia esther king ! + pinterest board !

alycia debnam-carey, cisfemale, she/her — have you met cordelia esther king yet ? the twenty-two year old is known for being both affable and buoyant, but also very whimsical and corybantic. born in salem, delia now lives in lambeth, working as a wedding planner and forming unrealistic expectations of true love.

so ngl cordelia is very inspired by jane from 27 dresses but w/ some twists so i’m not completely unoriginal

she was born to a pastor for a father in salem aka witch town ! cordelia was raised as kind of a perfect goody goody two shoes u know.. classic girl next door who sleeps w a teddy bear even at twenty-two & her entire room is covered in pink, she spends her spare time baking n blushing over boys smiling at her wtvr... she was always strong-willed & opinionated but shut up out of fear of being made fun of u know, kids these days r mean

so then when cordelia is old enough to leave her parents house ( let’s say like a year ago ) she decides that she’s tired of being the nice girl in the shadows & that she wants to live life more on the edge so she vows to start living life dangerously & being badass... whatever that means

it’s actually kind of funny, because she’ll stroll into a bar & bat her eyelashes at the bartender & single ppl in the room to try & get them to order a drink for her solely bc she doesn’t know the names of any drinks... has no common sense & is too naive for her own good ( what is a handjob... what does “on the rocks” mean ) but the girl’s trying to [ troy bolton vc ] break free so who am i to judge ?

she’s a wedding planner who’s actually in love with the idea of love & has watched the notebook 1 too many times... despite her being wildt nowadays she’s still into the whole “when i meet the one for me my foot will pop when we kiss & i’ll feel fireworks” thing.. it’s cute but also sad but ! cute !

personality-wise... she’s outspoken & friendly & incredibly flirty, but at the same time she probably either assumes you’re flirting w her when you’re really not or has no clue that you’re hitting on her when ur literally kissing her

is totally sandy at the end of grease when she’s like “tell me about it, stud” acting all badass but then doesn’t know what to do w her cigarette butt & looks nervously at her friends like WTF DO I DO

please come corrupt her or fuck her up... or be nice 2 her & teach her how to be a human being

— ✯ | dexter leroy bates ! + pinterest board !

torrance coombs, cismale, he/him — have you met dexter leroy bates yet ? the thirty-one year old is known for being both inventive and idealistic, but also very farouche and indecisive. born in hackney, dex now lives in croydon, editing badly filmed videos and gluing himself to a camera 24/7.

basically a nerdy starving artist based on mark from rent with a lil bit of peter parker in him

a broke ass bitch living in croydon trying his best to make it as a photographer / film maker

he has huge dreams of hollywood but his films r probably kinda bad... but he tries his best n i love him for it

kinda nerdy & word vomit-y... super cute... would die for his friends but also would kill u for insulting one of them

is that nerd that is actually hot n buff n shit but u never notice bc he wears hoodies n hides behind a camera bc i lov stereotyping apparently

i don’t really have his backstory worked out yet tbfh so really ? go wild w connections for my son

— ✯ | davina leigh cordero ! + pinterest board !

lauren jauregui, cisfemale, she/her — have you met davina leigh cordero yet ? the twenty-one year old is known for being both intuitive and diligent, but also very seclusive and obstinate. born in whitby, davina now lives in soho, studying journalism and avoiding as much human interaction as possible.

100% based on rory gilmore bc apparently even tho i’m on season 2 i luv the characters Too Much

basically everything i aspire 2 be in a person... hardworking as fuck, loves school so fricking much, antisocial as hell !

davina is deadass brilliant & her idea of wild is staying up past 11 on a school night or waiting to do her homework on saturday instead of friday

sweet, a lil bit awkward, but the cutest ever n i would die for her

would much rather be chillin w her books than anything else tbh & doesn’t know how to hold proper interactions but it’s more charming than anything else

grew up with only her dad mostly, since her mom worked full time & lived out of town for reasons but they both love her a ton. her dad would give her the whole world if he could, & owns a quaint little coffee shop in whitby & is constantly calling davina to check up on her... when she got older her mom moved back in w her dad so since then she’s gotten a lot closer to her but there’s still just such a bond between her dad & her u know

what is romance ? davina doesn’t know

come fuck her up

— ✯ | sawyer maisie pitman ! + pinterest board !

josefine frida pettersen, cisfemale, she/her — have you met sawyer maisie pitman yet ? the twenty year old is known for being both undaunted and driven, but also very apathetic and blunt. born in bristol, sawyer now lives in wandsworth, being a tragically pathetic starving artist & student.

so sawyer was adopted as a baby, unnamed, to two moms who love her more than anything in the world. one’s a publisher & one’s an english professor, & they’re both huge fricking nerds, so she was named after tom sawyer !

as soon as she could walk she was talented with art & everything that had to do with it & not long after entering high school she decided that that’s what she wanted to do & nothing was going to get in the way of it

now, as a student & hopeful artist, sawyer is dead set on getting where she wants to be & has no tolerance for bullshit... like if u ain’t helping her further her career, ur unimportant to her

relationships ? cancelled. romance is a DISTRACTION from her work & only complicates her life !

blunt as fuck & doesn’t sugar coat things. she says things like they are & expects others to do the same bc she has no time for drama or whatnot

stubborn as fuck & nearly impossible to talk to sometimes bc she’s so set in her ways but hey love me a strong woman amirite

sharp-tongued & sarcastic as fuck but can be incredibly kind when the time is right !

#smoke:intros

6 notes · View notes