#might just be that i have really low standards. in college i used to drink coffee strictly for the caffeine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

titanslayyyer · 6 months ago

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NIGHTS LIKE THIS. Jean Kirstein. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 — TRUTH OR DARE

WARNING: Slight NSFW ahead. CNC drinking games with 18+ themes.

chapter one: https://www.tumblr.com/titanslayyyer/754646739748896768/nights-like-this-jean-kirstein?source=share

The next couple of days went by smoothly, consisting of beach picnics, blunt rotations on your deck and target runs to spend money on essentials for your house and of course the little things that are 100% unnecessary. It’s now Wednesday, and you found yourself fiddling with the strings of your acoustic guitar to escape.

Your hands are relatively soft, but the pads of your fingers on your left hand are hardened and calloused from hours of playing through sleepless nights.

Heavy strings vibrate under your digits as you pluck and handle the strings, humming incoherent and improvised lyrics under your breath.

You’ve been writing music nonstop, trying to perfect one little song that you wrote whilst crying your eyes out in the middle of your childhood bedroom.

The loss of your sister is worn on the wrist that forms chords on each fret—- sunken, familiar. . they don’t hurt as much as they used to. Your wrist that tells your fingers to finger the strings ache, wearing your latest heartbreak up your wrist and into your blood, most painful when touched.

You rest your chin on the upper body of your guitar and bite the interior of your cheek, tapping your foot against the hardwood floor.

There were still a couple of hours before you would leave for Zeke’s, so you drag yourself across the room and set your six string on it’s folding stand and move to search through your heaps of clothes for something more socially acceptable regarding Isla Vista’s standards.

You leave your room and announce your departure, saying your quick goodbye to Mikasa who was sat at the kitchen counter having a snack. Historia was probably with Ymir.

Passing the living room, you spot Sasha asleep on the couch bundled up in a thick knit blanket with the walking dead playing at a low volume from the tv.

You laugh at her on your way out the door and step off the front stoop, sticking your airpods into your ears and opening up spotify. You press shuffle on Feeble Little Horses’ profile, and begin to make your 20 minute walk to the campus store where your textbooks and other supplies should have been delivered.

Once you arrive, you’re thankful to be out of the heat and enter into a cool, air conditioned building that smelled of new carpeting.

The campus store is huge, and pretty busy at this time of day with a handful of students grabbing their last minute supplies before their first day of classes in two days.

You find yourself wandering the different sections of the store, eyes taking in all of the college apparel, rows of stickers and graduation cards, and tapestries of your mascot.

Walking up to the front cash register, a girl around your age works intensely on her laptop. She has short, wavy blonde hair that would stick out in any crowd. Her head bobs up at the immediate sight of you, and she pushed her device to the side. “Hi! How can I help you?”

“I’m here to pick up my textbooks and labcoat. I got a text yesterday that they were here.” You say, pressing your thumbs together, and giving her your name.

She had a familiar look to you, but you figured that you’ve just seen her some random day while riding your bike to and from classes. Could someone even remember somebody like that?

“Okay! Let me go grab them! I remember seeing your name.” She says, bouncing away. In a moment she returns, placing your textbooks down on the counter with a ‘thump’ and putting your neatly folded labcoat on top of it. “Is that it?”

“It should be. Thank you so much.” You smile, pulling your backpack off of your shoulder and lifting your supplies into it neatly. The weight might kill you on your walk back home.

“No problem, really.” She chirps happily, squinting at you a bit. “Y’know, I recognize you from somewhere I just can’t put my finger on it.”

You laugh softly. “God, that’s exactly what I was gonna say!”

“Hmm.” She ponders for a moment. “Whats your Instagram?”

You voice over your handle, pulling your phone out of the back pocket of your shorts and opening up the app to see your newest follow request: bitchyhitchy. “Are you Cassies sister?”

“Oh, yeah.” Your stomach sank a bit, even though you knew it was coming.

‘Sorry I didn’t mean to. . rehash. Lilley is my older sister, they were like, best friends.” She says. “I’m Hitch, by the way. It’s great to finally meet you!”

A smile formed on your face. You can briefly remember their relationship, seeing photos of Cassie and Lilley on nearly every post and every snap she sent you. “I’m y/n It’s really nice to meet you too. Oh- and do you know Annie Leonhart by chance?”

“Mhm! I don’t always see a smile on that girl but she’s great. We aren’t all that close but it’s whatevs.” Hitch laughs, leaning onto the counter. “I recognize you from her instagram, too.”

“I do too.” You chortle, putting your phone away while thinking back to any of Annie’s stories since she doesn’t post. “She really is nice, just quiet but we don’t mind.”

“You’re a marine biology major, right? I noticed your textbook.” She says, pointing down to your backpack next to you on the floor. “I was going to do that but I switched to chemical biology.” She’s definitely a conversationist, finding something new to latch onto whenever she could. . . but it didn’t matter to you because you quite literally had nowhere to go and nothing to do until later.

“Thats awesome! And yeah. I’m super excited– I’ve been wanting to do this for almost my entire life.” You say, and she smiles. “I’m nervous for some of the biology stuff, though.”

“Oh, don’t be! Professor Hange is the best here. She’s really cool, too and she does lots of extra credit assignments.” Hitch tells you.

“Lord knows I’ll need that.” You say with a small sigh, looking back to the person behind you in line and bending down to pick up your backpack and lug it onto your shoulders. “I should get goin’. It was nice to meet you!”

“Absolutely! You have my instagram, I’ll see you around.” She waves you goodbye, watching as you walk out of the campus store and begin your walk back home to drop off your newly acquired items.

A vibration in your back pocket calls for your attention, and you pull your phone out to two new messages; one from Sasha in your house groupchat and another from Connie in your direct messages.

You select the notification and open it.

Sashaa <33

chinese food for early dinner?? mama hungry

milkasa liked this message.

You giggle to yourself, typing back quickly.

Y/n

sounds dope but u cant get drunk on a full stomach :(

Sashaa <33

ujhjj thats what i said early dinner

Historia Luv!

sounds good to me ill be back from hanging with Ymir soon

:)))))))))))))

Sashaa <33

i love when we can all agree on something

ill order and we can ride to pick it up since mikasa

is at the gymmmmmm

you liked this message.

You exit out of the groupchat and save reading Connie’s message for later, shoving your phone back in its place and continuing your walk– making sure to put your airpods in so you don’t think too much about the heat and whatever bullshit your friend was usually spitting in a slew of back-to-back texts.

Out of nowhere, a bicycle and a frame of long brunette hair rushes past you at an alarming speed, causing you to jump back and nearly stumble over yourself.

“What the fuck, dude?!” You shout angrily as it comes back from down the road, and you notice the face thats sat on the bike. It’s Eren.

“My bad, ma’am.” He grins, riding circles around you as you try to follow. “Did I scare you?”

“Shut up.” You hiss, watching closely as his circle tightens so that you don’t actually get run over.

Eren kicks his foot out to stop his bike, gripping onto the handlebars. “Well that’s not very nice.”

“What’s not very nice is you almost killing me.” You tell him.

“You were in my way.” He says with a simple shrug, going back to pedaling rings around you. His speaker dangled from the stem, playing music by Frank Ocean just loud enough for you to hear.

“Oh, was I?” You raise an eyebrow. “How did you know it was me, anyways?”

“I didn’t. I just hoped it was.” He tells you.

You stifle a laugh. “That sounds about right. You seem to rely on hope a lot.”

“I’m a hopeful man with a hopeful plan, Y/n.” Eren rhymes, and you cant help but to cringe. “I was hoping that you would be on your way home so I can offer you a ride.”

“So, you followed me like a creep is what you’re saying.” You claim.

He shoots you an offended look, using the hair tie on his wrist to tie a section of his hair back into a loose bun.. “How could you speak so ill of me? I’m literally here so you can get home quicker.”

“That’s still a little weird.” You snicker, putting your hands on your hips. “I’m not so sure if I want a ride now that you’re making yourself seem like a serial killer.”

“Do you want to continue to walk and risk sunstroke, or what?” He says, cocking his head and standing on the pedals so that you could hop onto the seat of his bike.

“Shut up.” You say, throwing your leg over the seat and wrapping your arms around his torso.

“That’s what I thought.” He hums, pedaling down the street. This easily turned your normally 20 minute walk into a quick 7 minute bike ride. The tank top he wears flutters a bit with the breeze, wisps of his hair escaping the bun.

As you passed one of your neighbors houses, you spotted Jean– completely shirtless and mowing a lawn while two girls watched him in complete and utter awe.

The sun beats down onto him– his back, covered in a tattoo of two falcons, soaking in the rays and turning a noticeable tan. Beads of sweat dribble down his forehead and drip onto his chest.

If you weren’t already hot, you’d say you’d felt a heat wave the minute you laid eyes on him.

You knew he was showing off, he always did. . . but when he looked like that you couldn’t complain. Eren simply scoffs under his breath, knowing damn well that he would do the same thing just for a little bit of pussy.

You could feel Jeans eyes on you through the darkness of his aviators as you ride past, bending forward to pull the starter cord and get back to work.

Tearing your eyes away from him once you get too far away to see, you turn your head back to the road ahead.

After a little bit longer of listening to Erens music, he made a small circle in front of your home before extending the kickstand with his ankle and coming to a halt.

“See, we made it.” He says.

“I’m surprised you didn’t crash out.” You tease him, dismounting the bike.

You could no longer feel the warmth of his back, once radiating onto the front of your face since you were so close to him– tits pressed up against his back.

“So am I, honestly. I need training wheels on this thang.” Eren says, pulling his phone out and pointing the front camera towards you. “Smile.”

You flip the camera off, and he quickly sends the snap to Connie. “Get the fuck outta here, man. I’ll see you later.” You say, walking towards the front door.

He shouts after you, and you turn back. “Bring lots of alcohol!”

“Tell that to Zeke!” You reply, watching as he laughs and pedals off towards his own place.

Eren could be annoying sometimes, but you were glad that you had him in your life. If Sasha hadn’t known him and brought you to his party last year, you wouldn’t have made these years count.

Pushing open the door, you made a bee-line straight to your room.

The house is completely silent now, and your open window allows in the sounds of seagulls and crashing waves. The built in air conditioning waves against your cheeks while you take your books out and put them on your desk– and your labcoat into your closet.

Walking over to your dresser, you pick out a cd and pop it into the player. . . pressing the play button and then throwing yourself onto your bed.

You hadn’t done that much walking since last year, and your legs were not used to it whatsoever. Hitting the gym was a great idea, but you already got your workout in.

While laying in your bed, your mind wanders to the upcoming party.

You hadn’t put yourself out there much since your freshman year, keeping yourself busy by spending time with your friends, working, and taking part in your own hobbies. The last time you did, over the summer, you ended up with the worst heartbreak you’ve experienced.

There’s still a part of you that almost cries when the subject is touched, but you know you can’t help how head over heels you were for a stupid boy.

You couldn’t even unsave the Spotify playlist he made you, despite the cover being replaced with a blank wall instead of you in his hat.

Your eyes flicker to the picture of you and your sister on your nightstand, and a sigh falls from your lips.

Wherever Cassie was, she was probably shouting at you calling you a ‘dumbass bitch!’ hoping you would hear her and come to your senses.

She would always make fun of your choice of men, and the last one was probably no different. She’d probably be even more upset if she saw the way you looked at Jean earlier today, when she’d be right next to you on the same boat.

Countless of times she told you– “dont fall for a man who doesn’t give a shit about you.” and countless of times you didn’t listen.

This wasn’t one of those times, because you could care less about Jean and who he takes to bed with him every night.

—

7:30 came, and you and Historia are getting ready in your shared bathroom. “Summer Love” by Justin Timberlake plays on the speaker, Sasha and Mikasa sneaking in to steal products every now and then.

You’re dressed in light grey sweatpants, a tiny black top that could be classified as a bra and your tennis shoes. You didn’t want to be uncomfortable, but of course you needed to look good.

“Where the fuuuck are my SHOES?” Sasha yells, speed-walking around the entire house and passing by your door around 50 times, all while you’re trying your best to stay focused. You’re drawing Historia’s eyeliner on as she had done for you, long and sharp.

She knew it would be gone by the end of the night, but she still wanted to look good for Ymir who would also be attending the party, so you don’t blame her.

“You guys ready?” Mikasa asks, popping her head into the bathroom and snapping her small blush container shut.

“Yes ma’am.” You reply, shutting your eyeliner up and moving away from Historia to allow her to jump down from the counter.

Quickly, you run to your room and grab your purse you bring with you whenever you go out, especially to a party—- small enough to fit your phone, keys, and your thin wallet with your debit card and a little bit of cash.

When everyone is situated, you shut off the lights to the house and the four of you women walk out to your jeep and get in. In the front seat, you throw one of your hoodies from the passenger seat all the way to the trunk without fail and start up the engine with a sputter then a pretty purr.

You turn on the radio and roll all the windows down, pulling out of your driveway and riding down the street.

The house is an unfortunate 20 minutes away from campus, but with the amount of bodies that are there on your snapmap, you knew nobody minded.

This was thanks to the sophisticated DD role someone in a friend group took on (for the most part.)

Zeke’s street is dimly lit by scattered lamp posts and his home is quite luxurious, hidden in the forest-y hills of Santa Barbara.

Cars are parked all around his governors driveway, Zeke’s white porsche among them with a group of kids sitting on the hood– one of two of his vehicles.

College students of all ages file in and out of the house, chatting near the door sipping liquid from red solo cups.

You let the girls get out of the car while you found a place to park a little bit down the road, since there was little to no room anywhere near everybody else.

You can hear the loud music playing from inside the house as you walk back, passing by a group of senior basketball boys who look you up and down.

The minute you stepped foot through the front door, strong smells of marijuana and alcohol fill your nose and overstimulate your senses. There are people all over the house as per usual, a significant amount packed into the living room and kitchen.

Handfuls of familiar faces are among you as well as the ones you’ve never seen in your life as you walked through the house to locate your friends, mind swimming through thick waves on anticipation.

“Yo, Y/n! Over here.” You hear somebody call your name, and see Reiner, a couple of feet away with Armin and Bertholdt. Annie sits below them, sat on the hearth of the fireplace and taking a long hit of her elfbar without another care in the world.

You walk over, receiving your fair share of dap-ups, while Bert gives you a friendly hello. “Whats up, Rei. I haven’t seen you around much.”

He laughs. “Work ‘nd gym.” He says simply, taking a sip of his Smirnoff– poured into a cup rather than drinking straight from the bottle, which he’s done shamelessly.

“It’s like he doesn’t know anything else.” Annie smirks.

“Can a man not enjoy the grind?” He asks, and Armin looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

Bert chimes in. “We aren’t saying that, we’re just saying that you’re gonna be real upset when you injure your tendon.”

“I’m not gonna fuck up a tendon.” Reiner scoffs, opening up his phone.

“Go ahead and keep believin’ that, bud.” Armin sneers.

“Do you think he even knows what that is?” Annie whispers with a small laugh, nudging you with the side of her elbow. . . a valid question.

“Absolutely not.” You chuckle, shaking your head and motioning for her to pass the vape to you– which she hands you nonchalantly.

You hum, taking a hit of the strawberry-banana disposable and turning your head to exhale the smoke before handing it back to Annie below you.

“Where’s Zeke tonight, ay?” You ask, looking around the crowded house with zero view of the bearded man anywhere.

“You know him– always on the move.” Bertholdt says, rolling his eyes. He towers over all of you guys quite scarily– wearing a size 14 shoe, the largest on the basketball team and probably one of the most skilled.

Zeke, on the other hand, was truly a character. He has a life that even Eren knows little about, but chooses not to question him.

Needless to say, he’s a very private man.

When he’s not in Santa Barbara and giving up his house to rowdy teenagers, he’s cruising down the coast on the way to another business trip.

“As always.” Armin hums, arms in their usual crossed position.

There was a bit of senseless chatting between the five of you before your name is yelled by Sasha from across the room. She’s racing towards you, giving you no time to react when she clashes into your side and pulls you away from your conversation without saying a single word.

Sasha speaks sincerely, putting both of her hands onto your shoulders and holding them firmly. “Y/n, I just met the most amazing guy. I think he’s my soulmate. You HAVE to meet him.”

“Oh, yeah, y/n, where have you been? Would you like a drink?” You tease, and she shakes her head.

“Sorry, I love you! I’m a lil’ bit excited.” She says, pulling you to her side as she begins walking out of the living room.

You smile, throwing your arm around her shoulder and looking to her. “I can tell. So, whose this soulmate?”

“His name is Niccolo and he’s a fuckin’ Greek God, bro.” She says a bit quietly as you went through the open glass doors and into the large backyard.

“Okay, then.” You reply a bit curiously.

There’s a small patio with a seating area and a grill, decorated with an array of native plants.

A large pool with a built in hottub sits right in the center, the back wall overlooking the brief wilderness surrounding his house and almost all of Santa Barbara from Goleta down to the Mesa.

A blanket of the deepest blue covers the sky now, scattered stars twinkling when you look up.

When you turn the corner, there’s a group of guys and girls sat in wicker chairs around a firepit and you know almost immediately which one is him.

“Niccolo! This is my best friend, Y/n.” Sasha says happily, and he stands up so she can speak into his ear. “She’s the one who makes killer margaritas.”

“Better than me?” He chuckles, extending a hand for you to take– which you do. “I’m not sure about that.”

“Better than you, at least.” You wink, looking over to Sasha who beams besides him.

He has wavy blonde hair that falls a bit messily onto his forehead, and a light sunburn that brushes the tips of his cheeks from being in the sun too long.

Niccolos’ arms are tanned and toned, he sports a UCSB Gauchos swim team shirt and a dogtag hanging round his neck.

You could see why Sasha had fallen head-over-heels so quickly, though she seemed to be crushing on a new guy nearly everyday– whether he’s located right here in Santa Barbara and she spotted him riding his bike down the street, or a man she found from Europe on Tinder.

Despite this, Sasha wouldn’t dare be caught dead as a hopeless romantic. You’ll find her chasing a party bus, but never a man who isn’t worth her time.

In this case? You weren’t sure what to expect.

Sometimes she’s too friendly.

“Can i get you two drinks?” Niccoloo asks, clasping his hands together behind his back.

“God, yes.” Sasha groans, hooking onto his arm. “You comin’, Y/n?”

“Absolutely.” You say, following the two of them as they walk.

He escorts her as if she were a princess, and she can’t help but look back at you and mouth ‘oh my god!’ You laugh under your breath, sneaking through packed-together bodies on your way back to the kitchen where less people are all mashed together.

There are bottles of all sorts spread across the kitchen counter, as well as stacks of multicolored solo cups and a bowl of spiked punch in the corner.

Boxes of different canned liquors are shoved into the trashcan, and party shooters lined up neatly.

If you were being honest, the Jaegers’ have really outdone themselves this time.

You pour yourself a cup of Malibu Rum Pink Lemonade while Sasha and Niccolo talk away besides you, somehow finding something to yap about every four and a half minutes with you chiming in whenever you could.

Your phone suddenly vibrated in your pocket, and you lower your cup from your lips to see who it was from.

1 new message from Eren

You tap on the notification and type in your passcode, looking at the quickly sent message.

Eren

beer pong ur on my team hurry

sent with echo

You tap Sasha on the shoulder, and she turns to look at you– staring at the text as you show her. She smirks. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

“Lets go, then.” You say, pressing and hold the text to like it before shoving the phone back into your pocket and dragging Sasha with you– Niccolo close behind.

You and Sasha quickly squeeze through people at a small jog to get outside where a small crowd has gathered to watch beer pong, set up on the lawn on top of an old surfboard of Zeke’s. Connie is sat a little further back between the two of them to spectate the match on a barstool to play the role of a referee with Armin at his side.

Eren stands at one end dripping wet, pouring bud light into each of the 16 cups on his side. He spots you, and motions you over. “There you are.”

“You think I’m gonna miss this?” You raise an eyebrow and he laughs.

“I know you too well.” He says with a grin.

You had played with and against each other at about 20 different beer pong matches last year, not once passing up on the opportunity you favored over any other.

“Sasha, you wanna be on our team?” You ask, and she nods excitedly.

“Uhm, duh.” She says, walking over to you two. “Niccolo, what about you?”

“I’ll just watch.” He says, putting his hand on her shoulder as he passes by to go stand near Connie..

Armin quickly jumps in, shouting to be heard and fist-bumping Eren. “I’m playing!”

The pair of them were school-wide beer pong champions, and were currently on the longest winning streak that anyone at UCSB had ever seen. This has gone so far that they were even gifted 3d printed medals for the “tournament” last May.

Across the surfboard, Jean Kirstein of all people stands with a sneer on his face, tossing a ping pong ball from one hand to another. He keeps his eyes on you just like he did earlier today while mowing the lawn.

You hadn’t even seen him around the house, and you know damn well you would’ve noticed that face.

“Let’s get this shit started, shall we?” Connie announces loudly, gaining everybodys attention from your teams to the small crowd of spectators. “Ahem. Team one lead by Eren is Armin, Y/n and Sasha. . . Team two, lead by Jean, is Historia, Reiner, and Mikasa.”

He then goes on to explain the rules; each player on their team must take a shot until all cups are gone, ball goes in? cup is removed. If you miss you get a redemption throw and so on.

“Can we get a move on?!” a voice yells, and Connie stands up to shout back profanities before sitting back down on his stool.

“Fuck you all. Here’s a quarter.” Connie says, digging through his back pocket and tossing the coin to Jean.

“Remember! If you make a shot, you have to pick a truth or dare card for your opponent! They are not for the faint of heart! If you bitch, you have to suffer my choice of punishment.” Connie announces.

He holds up a stack of cards, a variety of truths and dares shuffled into the mix as Eren and Jean close in on each other and shake hands.

“Where’ve you been, man? Dipping on your friends for some pussy?” Eren says harshly, playfully referencing to his absence at your recent get-togethers for a local hookup.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Jean says with a look of contempt, claiming heads.

“I just think there are some more important things.” Eren says with a shrug of his shoulders and claiming tails. In a moment, they flip.

The quarter seems to turn in the air for hours, all eyes on the little piece of silver copper.

The tension in the backyard is high, and all hearts seem to stop thumping as it falls in the palm of Eren’s hand.

He slowly uncups his hand and reveals the quarter: tails facing the sky.

“Thats too bad.” Eren pouts mockingly to Jean, flipping the coin on his thumb and catching it only to toss it to one of his friends standing nearby.

Eren steps up to the board across from Mikasa who watches intensely.

He picks up a ping pong ball and eyes the cups in font of him, situating the tiny object between his ringed fingers. It takes him a moment, but soon enough the ball is tossed in an arc.

Mikasa’s grey eyes watch as it falls into one of her cups and spins around the sides.

Shes quick to bend down and try to blow it out of the cup, but fails with a groan.

Your team cheers, and he quickly makes his second throw which goes into one of the cups with ease.

Eren receiving a round of high fives as he steps over to Connie to pick out a card. He chooses one from the stack and reads it aloud. “Truth. What is the weirdest sexual request you’ve received?”

Mikasa can’t help but giggle as she downs the first her drinks. “Any footjob request. Fuckin’ freaks.” She shares with you all, the sound of laughter slicing through the thick air.

She moves to pick up her own ping pong ball, steadies her elbow and makes a quick and easy toss into your teams first cup, missing.

Her second turn was a success, bouncing off of the surfboard and into one of the cups closest to her. Mikasa hits a quick victory pose and walks over to pick a shuffled card.

“Truth. What is the most desperate thing you’ve done in order to get laid?” She reads, throwing her palm over her mouth, and Eren’s face goes blank.

“Yo who chose this fuckin’ game.” Eren says as he drinks the contents of the cup. “I’m not answering that shit. Hell no.”

“Are you bitching out, Jaeger?” Jean says with a smug look on his face.

“Fuck off.” Eren growls back. In his mind, the alcohol is worth bitching for a time like this.

“Are you gonna take a shot or have a random dare picked by me?” Connie asks him, shuffling through a couple of dare cards.

“Get me another one.” He replies, watching the boy with the buzz-cut carefully.

“‘Kay, then. Go ahead and unzip the pants of your co-player using your teeth for us, Eren.” He says, showing Eren the very real card.

“Oh, easy.” Eren says, walking over to Mikasa who can’t look at him without beginning to laugh, even as he gets down on his knees in front of her.

“This is fuckin’ wild dude.” Mikasa laughs, holding her drink in the air as he hooks his teeth onto the zipper of her dark black cargo shorts and lowers himself to the grass.

Once Mikasa’s shorts are completely unzipped, Eren jumps up and receives a fist-bump from the woman. “I’ll give it to you because I could never.”

“Thanks.” Eren says with a thumbs up.

“Get it, I guess.” Historia says with a look of confusion, looking to Mikasa who walks back to her.

Next up at the surfboard is Sasha versus Reiner.

“Ladies first.” Reiner says, allowing Sasha to make the first shot. She picks up the ping pong ball and checks her form before bouncing the ball off of the board and into a cup with a splash.

“Fuck yeah!” You shout, and she turns to you to give you a harsh two-handed high-five.

Reiner has a scowl on his face across the board as he drinks his first cup.

Sasha picks up her second ball and backs up a couple steps before easily throwing her arm forward and landing her ball in one of the cups as if it were nothing.

“Light work.” She says proudly, closing her eyes and tracing her hands over the cards before picking one– Dare. “Reiner, Finish your drink without using your hands.”

“Shit.” Reiner says with a shrug, moving to pick his drink up using his teeth. He slowly tilts his head back, letting the beer throw down his throat with ease. He swallows hard and fast, hands firm on his hips.

A couple people wolf whistle at him and cheer, and his drink is finished when he spits the cup out onto the ground and flexes his large biceps.

“Damn, Reiner. What that mouth do?” Connie teases, plastic whistle inbetween his lips. “That’s 4 for Erens’ team, 1 for Jeans’ team. A little embarrassing if you ask me.”

Reiner steps up to the board and scoops up the ball in his large hands.

Behind him, Jean is eyeing down some girls who are dancing inside and paying little to no attention to what was happening in the game at the current moment. He’s practically eyefucking them.

You roll your eyes and focus in on Reiner, who shoots a laser-shot.

The ball bounces off of a couple of cup rims and Sasha is quick to finger it out of the cup and toss it back into the air and into yet another one of your opponents cups. Reiner exclaims. “The fuck?!”

“Game is game, Reiner. Drink that hoe!” You shout to him.

“She can’t do that!” He argues, looking to Connie.

“Well, the rules don’t exactly say you can’t.” Connie says with furrowed brows, already looking up Sasha’s sneak attack on r/beerpong. “Uhm. You get to go again regardless.”

“Fuck you, that was fair.” Sasha huffs under her breath, moving back to watch Reiner re-take his shot.

His arc is more smooth than the last, but bounces off a rim and onto the ground. “Hah!” Sasha exclaims, pointing fingers at him.

Reiner shakes his head and moves back, look of defeat on his face.

“I’m still gonna drink, though.” Sasha says happily, taking a long drink from her cup and handing it to Niccolo who holds it as if it were precious gold.

“My turn.” You hum, sipping some of your rum and using your free hand to pick up the ball and adjust your elbow just behind the edge of the surface for a clean toss.

Jean was now out of his trance, tongue in cheek while he watches you slowly lean your arm back and then flick it forward to make your shot.

You had hit it with a fastball shot, but it hit the rim and bounced back onto the surface. You curse yourself.

“Yikes.” Jean smirks, watching as you collect your next ball and prepare yourself– shooting him a glare in the meantime. You quickly take your chance to toss the ball into once of the center cups, beer splashing into other cups.

“There we go!” Armin cheers, him and Sasha going in for high-fives.

Across the surfboard, Jean picks up the full cup and drinks without saying another word.

You bounce over to Connie to pick your card. “Dare. Take a body shot from your co-player, who will return the action. Others decide from where.” Reading this out loud physically hurt you, and you couldn’t help but cringe.

With the help of spinthewheel.io on Connie’s phone and an array of body parts, the chest is chosen and you walk over to the bar to grap the salt, lime, bottle of tequila and shotglass.

“Fuck it.” Jean says simply, picking up the lime and squeezing the sticky juice down your sternum– efficiently shaking the salt onto the same spot before looking into your eyes. “Ready?”

“Mhm.” You say sweetly, putting the thick lime inbetween your teeth ‘nd granting him access to your neck.

He lowers his head below yours, pressing his tongue onto the soft skin and licking a slow strip upwards to taste all that he can.

Jean doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from yours as he takes his shot of Tequila.

His eyes are soon to flutter shut as he leans into your lips to take suck and bite on the lime. . his own lips touch yours, the whole half of the lime in his mouth while he makes out with you for a brief moment before pulling away and spitting the lime onto the ground. He bites his lower lip and looks at you. “Your turn.”

You hum in response, sticking the lime halfway out of your lips. You fill up your shotglass and glance up at Jean who watches you intently.

You take the lime and squeeze it upove his chest, watching the juice slide down his skin. You then pick up the salt and shake it onto the juice, diving in to lick a devious stripe up his upper body.

The shot you take is bitter and leaves a taste in your mouth, but you still go ahead and take a bite of the lime– sucking on it for a moment before taking it and spitting it into the grass as he did.

You look back to the surfboard and then to Jean, mocking him innocently. “Your turn.”

“That was fuckin’ hot.” Sasha says to you quietly as you walk back to your side, and you chuckle. “Jean knows it.”

“He’s a manwhore.” You shrug, watching as Jean effortlessly makes a perfect first shot into one of your cups– his form is perfect and his back stays straight, not blinking once until his shot is overwith.

His next is just as good, resulting in the removal of two cups of beer that you drink one after the other.

“Too tipsy yet?” Jean teases you, picking out a card.

You scoff. “Not enough to bitch out against you.”

“I didn’t say you would.” He says, looking down at the text. “Stand against a wall and let a female co-player frisk you thoroughly.”

The game went on for another 45 minutes, and your team was successful in the end, winning without a struggle. . . and shit had really gone down with the truth or dare cards. For now, you can say that Sasha and Reiner were the luckiest of the bunch

Once the game was over, another group of guys had taken over the surfboard and your group of friends scattered elsewhere, the lot of you filing into and filling the kitchen.

As Jean implied earlier you’re now feeling the tipsiness.

You currently found yourself listening to Sasha talk loudly to be heard against the counter where you only drank more with her, surrounded by friends and strangers.

Jean and Eren stand nearby snapping quick pictures and laughing with one another while cracking open two beers with an opener on Jean’s keychain.

You had initially thought that he was goodlooking, but once you were up close and tasting him you knew that you thought correctly.

Disregarding his attitude, he’s incredibly worth looking at and even better when he’s acknowledging youre there.

You had barely seen him around since saturday night when you first met him. When you friend group was altogether he would either stay and leave early or not show up at all, blaming it on work.

Connie had snitched to you that it was because some of the girls whose lawns he would mow would often invite him in to fuck around some, especially when their boyfriends weren’t around.

There were little things you learned about him by talking to him yourself, and a few of the deeper things you knew of from talk through your group despite the fact it’s none of your business.

Drinking your rum, you can’t help but watch Jean and Eren from afar as you’re supposed to be listening to Sasha– Erens eyes darting between you and Jean as he talks.

He says something to Jean that makes him turn his whole head towards you, and you quickly look away.

Was he seriously just gonna namedrop like that? He couldn’t be.

“Ever since Crow you’ve been like, boring.” Sasha says, and the use of that name alone brings you back to the present in an instant.

“Huh?” You ask, grip on your cup tightening slightly at the mention of the ex.

“Not boring, sorry. I’m just saying you’ve gotta push some personal boundaries if you wanna fall in love again.” She corrects herself, cocking her head to the side.

“I’m not really looking for anything serious, and definitely not to fall in love.” You laugh softly. “Since when are you all about falling in love?”

“I’m not. You just had it pretty rough and I don’t think you’ve been the same since.” She tells you.

“I guess.” You say. You definitely don’t feel the same since the breakup, but you were still confused on Sasha’s point.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She yawns. “We need to get you on some dick, that’s what i say.”

“Shut the fuck up!” You laugh and so does she, leaning into you to rest her head on your shoulder.

“What?! It’s nature’s medicine!” She giggles, and you raise an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t ever say that again.” You snicker, putting your hand over your mouth.

“A one night stand is nature’s medicine, I’m tellin’ you babe.” Sasha stands her ground, bringing her cup to her lips and drinking.

“I’ll think about it.” You shrug.

“Boooo.” Sasha groans. “Let’s go dance.”

“That’s fine by me.” You say, allowing sasha to take your hand and guide you to the crowd.

#jean aot #artist jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader canon #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #armin arlert #connie springer #sasha braus #lgbtq #love triangle #college au #snk x reader #angst #tw drugs #reiner braun #pride month

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electricbluebutterflies · 1 year ago

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“rise and shine, sweet thing." for hellcheer

PG-ish, pre-relationship, also on ao3.

It takes Chrissy a hot moment to piece together the last twelve hours or so of her life.

Body, intact but with the kind of pulsing headache that reminds her that canned margaritas do not mess around. Clothes still on as she remembers them. Currently curled up under a ridiculous amount of blankets on a couch that’s probably older than she is. Currently…

“Rise and shine, sweet thing.”

There are, at least, some very obvious explanations for all of the above. She’ll take what she can get.

It takes Chrissy a few more moments to open her eyes, to fully process that the boy she has a crush on is hovering over her, and the first thing she thinks is that his hair is apparently a mess in the mornings and braiding it before sleep would really help and-

She shouldn’t be having these thoughts yet. A certain part of her brain figures she might as well, given everything else, but-

“I didn’t dream,” she says before he can even ask. “Promise.”

The way she sees it, the way she explains this particularly long summer, Eddie Munson is a person constantly in need of a project and protecting her keeps him out of trouble. It’s a decent trade, all factors considered, and Chrissy’s gotten all too comfortable with it, and-

“Good to know, also not my starting question.”

“Which was going to be…?”

“I know you’re an ethereal being and all, but that couch is still not something anyone falls asleep on voluntarily.”

There are… definitely a few questions she has about what goes on in his mind sometimes, but she’s decided his intentions to treat her like a fairy princess are at least harmless so it’s easier to just let those comments go. Sweet, if a little weird, and-

“And I did because…?”

“I suggested the floor. We compromised.”

Again. Canned margaritas do not mess around.

“You could’ve moved me. I’m tiny enough.”

“Wasn’t sure…”

“I trust you. And I don’t remember that part of the night anyways. A few moments in your arms probably wouldn’t have registered.”

“Still. Principle of the thing. Don’t do anything to questionably conscious women. Except make a blanket nest for them, I wasn’t sure…”

Late summer in southern Indiana isn’t the time of year most people want cocoon mode, but Chrissy runs cold – small body, almost no fat on her even now – and she’s not complaining about her current condition. “Perfectly fine.”

“I don’t… do this. I’m not-“

He’s particularly cute when he’s awkward, she thinks, not quite blushy but like the boy version of it all the same, usual confidence ignored for a while and-

Her hands poke out of the blanket nest and take his. “You take care of me. You’re good at that.”

“Least I can-“

“Stop, okay? You’re real and… it means a lot to me.”

This isn’t what they could become, she knows, not yet and maybe not for a while. She’s taking a year off before college – needs to make sure she’s physically okay before she moves an hour and a half from home – and her mom’s hoping she’ll use that time to find a nice boy and get married and… she’s done one of those things, and the other could still absolutely happen, and-

“Good reminder you have low standards,” Eddie laughs.

“Eclectic, not low.”

“Remind me, you drink bad instant coffee?”

“I do when I’m here…”

He takes care of her, she thinks as she shifts her position under the blanket nest and decides she doesn’t get why he hates that couch so much. Maybe, maybe someday she’ll take care of him too.

#ebf writes fic #hellcheer #queue

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killerandhealerqueen · 3 years ago

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A Lawful Husbands Mafia AU prompt ♥ Rather than straightening up and going to law school, Gaon continued running with the low-level crew of gangsters he met in high school after his parents died--but he kept his sense of justice and morality, twisted though it might be. When he rescued Yohan who was being attacked in the alley, he is invited to join a legitimate mob family, headed by Yohan himself

Well, this is my final The Devil Judge prompt...thank you TDJ fandom for being so welcoming, warm, and receptive to my fics back when I started in July...it's been an honor writing for you. I am, of course, not leaving the fandom but I will no longer be an active member or writing for this fandom anymore. It's been fun. Enjoy some mafia au

Gaon used to consider himself a “good boy”. From the time he was little he was always called a “good boy” by his mother and his father…because he was a good boy. He always helped his parents at their job, he was respectful, he was kind, he was everything a parent would want in a son. And then…his parents died. Died by taking their own lives due to losing everything to Doh Youngchoon…the bastard. After the death of his parents, Gaon was no longer a “good boy” by anyone’s standards, especially his best friend’s, Yoon Soohyun, or his mentor’s, Min Jungho. He began to run with some low-level gangsters and skip school, drink, smoke, ride motorcycles, get into fights…basically, Gaon rebelled. And he rebelled hard. Of course, however, since he was under Min Jungho’s guardianship, his “rebellious” stage couldn’t last forever. His mentor/teacher had threatened many times that if Gaon didn’t start shaping up, Min Jungho would have to kick him out…and he would have nowhere to go. And of course, Gaon didn’t want that because he liked his mentor, and he was grateful to him, so he decided to put his rebellious phase aside and get back on the “right path” as Min Jungho and Soohyun had called it. And Gaon did well…he brought his grades back up, he stopped getting into fights, and he even got into university. (He did not stop riding his motorcycle, but Min Jungho had to let him have it…he stopped doing everything else, so he was allowed to at least have one thing from his rebellious phase). On his graduation day, after the ceremony, Min Jungho and Soohyun quickly congratulated him and hugged him tightly, telling him how proud they were of him and how they were “so glad” that he left his rebellious stage because now he was becoming a proper member of society. Gaon, of course, just smiled and accepted their praise but never said anything because they didn’t know…that Gaon had never really “given up” his rebellious stage. He just got very, very, good at hiding it. Because after all…he was no longer a “good boy”. ~*~*~*~*~*~

After four years of undergrad and three years of law school, Gaon was officially a lawyer. But Gaon was not your typical lawyer, oh no. He was a lawyer who took the cases that nobody wanted to take, he listened to the clients that every lawyer thought was crazy, and the most shocking for everyone (but not shocking for him)…he took cases and defended gang members. Amongst gang members, Gaon was probably the most trusted lawyer, as he had run with gangs in high school and regularly kept in touch with them throughout college and law school. He knew the gangs inside and out which was why, if anyone was going to defend gang members, it was going to be him. And the gangs were always grateful, always sending expensive presents from the best alcohol money could buy to fancy watches, fancy suits…basically anything Gaon could want, the gangs usually gave. Gaon, of course, never knew what to do with all the fancy gifts, so he ended up giving most of them away, only keeping a few things, like a fancy alcohol or a fancy cufflink that he really liked. He did, however, never say no to a free meal so after a successful case, when one of the gang members offered to treat him to a free meal, Gaon happily agreed. Free food was free food, right? ~*~*~*~*~*~ After a very full meal, Gaon and the gang members decided to head home, mainly because it was late and Gaon had work the next morning. As they walked away from the restaurant, Gaon thought he heard what sounded like grunts and groans and what sounded like a fist connecting with a face but he wasn’t sure, so he looked over at the other gang members, who were certainly drunker than him, to see if they were hearing what he was hearing and from the looks on their faces, they were. Once he assured that he wasn’t hearing things and that it wasn’t the alcohol, he quickly rushed over to the alley where he thought he heard the fighting and saw two men swinging punches at each other…well, one was swinging the punches, the other was doing his best to not get the shit kicked out of him. “Yah!” Gaon shouted, making the attacker look over at him with wide eyes as he quickly swung a punch, catching the attacker in the face, causing him to go stumbling away from the man, who looked at Gaon in slightly veiled surprise. The attacker then glared at Gaon before he growled. “Why don’t you mind your own damn business, pretty boy?” he spat as he threw a punch at Gaon, who immediately dodged before sucker punching him in the stomach, causing him to choke in surprise. Gaon then grabbed him by the collar of his shirt before throwing him towards the other gang members, who all cracked their knuckles at the thought of fresh meat. “Go to town, boys” Gaon called out, the gang members nodding before they began wailing on the poor attacker. While they were beating the shit out of the man, Gaon turned his attention back to the man who was being attacked, looking him over before he tsked. “You need to get looked at” he murmured before he reached out and grasped the man’s arm, the man immediately wrenching his arm out of his grasp. “I don’t need any help” he murmured. Gaon scoffed. “Bullshit. You look awful. You definitely need a shower” he stated as he grabbed the man’s arm again, dragging him out of the alley. He then looked at the gang members, who were still punching the shit out of the attacker and huffed. “Yah, yah, yah, I just got you guys out of jail, don’t fucking put yourselves back in there. Leave him be…he looks almost dead anyways. Go home” he ordered. The gang members looked up at him and nodded before they quickly turned and walked away from the attacker, who was panting heavily on the ground, making Gaon sigh as he looked at him before he looked at the man he was holding. “Wait a moment” he instructed before he walked over to the man and knelt down before him, snapping his fingers in front of him. “Hey, hey. Can you hear me?” he demanded. The attacker nodded slowly making Gaon smile. “Good. Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully. You…are not welcome here. If I see or get word of you showing your face around here again…those men that just kicked your ass just now? Yeah, I’ll have them kill you. Don’t fucking try me. Now get your ass up and get out of here” he ordered. The attacker nodded and slowly pushed himself to his feet before he stumbled away, Gaon watching him with a small smile before he pushed himself to his feet and walked back over to the injured man, who raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you a gangster?” he asked. Gaon raised an eyebrow at him before he laughed. “Ah…I used to be. I’m a lawyer now, but I keep in contact with my friends from the gangs and I usually take their cases…but no, I’m not a gangster” he answered. The injured man hummed as Gaon took him by the arm and slowly guided him over to Gaon’s car, helping him into the passenger seat before he got into the driver’s seat, quickly buckling himself in before turning on the car engine, driving out of the parking lot, heading home.

~*~*~*~*~*~ When they reached Gaon’s apartment, Gaon looked over at the injured man, who had fallen asleep during the ride, and sighed softly before he reached out and gently shook his shoulder, causing the man to jolt in surprise before he looked around, only for his eyes to finally land on Gaon’s. “Hey…we’re here” Gaon murmured, his voice soft. The man blinked before he nodded, Gaon smiling before he opened his door and got out, the man doing the same before they both walked over to the stairs that led to Gaon’s apartment. “I hope you’re okay with climbing stairs because uh…that’s the only way to get to my house” Gaon stated before he began walking up the stairs. The man stared after him before he sighed and followed after Gaon, doing his best to hide his heavy panting and grunts of pain. Once they had reached the top, the man blinked in surprise at the multitude of plants that adorned the house. “You certainly like plants” he mused. Gaon smiled. “Yeah, they’re fun. And they bring a bit of life into my rather boring life” he replied. The man huffed. “Your life does not seem boring, at all” he stated. Gaon laughed. “Oh, you don’t know how wrong you are. I don’t hang out with the gangs all the time…just sometimes. Most of the time, my days are spent doing paperwork or listening to a fucking prosecutor go on and on about how my client is wrong, yada yada yada. Really, being a lawyer isn’t glamorous. Just lots of fucking paperwork” he replied as he headed inside, the man following after him. “You can go ahead and take a shower first. I’ll try and find you some clothes that’ll fit” he stated, glancing over his shoulder at the man, who nodded before he headed over to the only room that he figured could be the bathroom, since Gaon’s apartment was so small. He then stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind him before he let out a heavy sigh and began to strip himself of his clothes, making sure to neatly fold them and place them on the counter before he stepped into the shower and turned on the water. He waited for the water to warm up before he turned on the spray, letting himself stand under the water for a few moments, letting the sweat and the blood wash off of him as well as allow the water to soothe his aching muscles. After standing under for the water for a while, the man quickly washed his hair before washing himself down, making sure that he was clean. Once he was clean, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, quickly wiping himself down before he stared at the counter in surprise; his old clothes were gone and in its place was a pair of grey sweats, a grey sweatshirt, and a pair of boxers. The man hummed before he finished toweling off, placing the towel on the towel rack before he changed into the clothes, stepping out of the bathroom afterwards. As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, Gaon looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed and smiled. “Oh good, they fit. I was afraid they’d be too small. They’re too big for me, but they fit you just right” he declared. The man hummed as Gaon patted to the space next to him, a small smile on his face. The man frowned but slowly padded over and sat down, Gaon immediately reaching out, gently grasping his face. The man hissed and Gaon smiled apologetically before he reached over and grabbed a small Q-tip covered in ointment, carefully applying it to the abrasion on the man’s temple and to the corner of his mouth. “Jesus, he really beat the crap out of you” he murmured as he looked the man over. The man huffed. “Normally I’m a better fighter…he just caught me off guard” he murmured. Gaon raised an eyebrow. “Oh, are you a gangster too?” he asked. The man shook his head. “Mafia” he answered. Gaon’s eyes widened. “Mafia?” he repeated, studying the man’s face for a moment before he let out a gasp of shock. “You’re…you’re Kang Yohan” he breathed. The man, Kang Yohan, smirked. “Astute observation. And you are?” he asked. Gaon blinked before he cleared his throat. “Kim Gaon” he answered. Yohan hummed. “A gangster turned lawyer? There’s something you don’t see every day” he mused. Gaon huffed. “Yeah well…I honestly wasn’t planning on becoming a gangster before but…you know…life happens” he murmured, his voice turning soft as he pulled the Q-tip away and threw it into the nearby trashcan. Yohan raised an eyebrow before he titled his head at him. “What happened?” he asked, not sure if he was allowed to ask but something within him just…wanted to know. Gaon looked at him before he sighed and looked away. “Uh…my parents died. Well, committed suicide, actually” he murmured. Yohan’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to apologize when Gaon held up his hand. “Don’t…please don’t. I’ve heard…enough apologies to last a fucking lifetime. So please. Just save it” he whispered. Yohan looked at him for a moment before he hummed. “Can I ask…why your parents died?” he murmured. Gaon nodded. “They uh…they got scammed. Lost their entire life’s savings…lots of people did. You know Doh Youngchoon?” he asked, looking over at Yohan. Yohan nodded. “I’ve heard of him” he replied. Gaon nodded again. “Yeah, he…he fucking…” he started as tears came to his eyes and he clutched at his pants legs, trying his best not to lose his composure in front of Kang-fucking-Yohan. “He fucking…took so many people’s money…and lost it. He scammed people of their entire life’s savings…and when he went to prison, you know how many years he got?” he demanded, looking over at Yohan, who calmly shook his head. “Seventeen fucking years. He hurt so many people and he only got seventeen fucking years” Gaon hissed, tears streaming down his face in anger. Yohan nodded slowly in understanding as Gaon let out a shuddering breath. “I was so angry…so hurt…that I rebelled. I skipped school, I ran with gangs, I drank, I smoked…I did everything that would have probably sent my parents to an early grave if they weren’t already dead” he murmured. Yohan hummed. “What made you become a lawyer then?” he asked. Gaon laughed softly. “It’s stupid…but I thought if I became a lawyer, I could put people like Doh Youngchoon away…but then I realized I wanted to help people more than prosecute, so I became a defense lawyer. Which is why I end up helping so many gang members. Because who else is going to help them? Not some snooty, uptight lawyer who thinks they’re God’s gift to this fucking earth…no, it’s going to be the lawyer who has a past with them, who understands them, understands their lifestyle, where they came from…that’s why I help” he explained. Yohan looked at him before he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s stupid at all” he murmured, making Gaon look over at him with wide eyes as he reached out and gently wiped away his tears with his thumb. Gaon blinked in shock as Yohan smiled. “But you know…if you actually want to make a bigger difference…you could always come work for me” he offered. Gaon looked at him in shock. “Work…for you?” he repeated. Yohan smiled. “I’m always in need of a good defense lawyer…and I think you’d fit in just fine. Especially with your background and all. You’d understand where others wouldn’t” he explained before he smiled darkly. “And if you wanted to take care of that Doh Youngchoon…you could. I have ways…I could offer you assistance” he added. Gaon blinked in shock before he shook his head. “I don’t…I don’t know…could I think about it?” he asked. Yohan chuckled. “Of course. No need to make a decision right away” he replied, just as he hissed and clutched at his side, causing Gaon’s eyes to widen. “Ah, hang on. Let me get you some pain meds” he stated, quickly standing up and heading into the kitchen to grab some pain meds. While he was searching for the pain meds, Yohan stood up and began to look around, noticing two picture frames on a nearby shelf; one was of a young boy and an older man, and an older woman and the other was of an older Gaon with an older gentleman and a young woman. As Yohan stared at the two photos, he reached out and carefully picked up the picture frame of younger Gaon and the two older adults, staring at it thoughtfully. “Those are my parents” a voice stated, making him look over to see Gaon smiling sadly while holding a glass of water in one hand and some pills in the other. Yohan hummed as he carefully placed the picture frame back down before turning to face Gaon, who walked over to him and handed him the pills. Yohan then popped the pills into his mouth before taking the glass of water, taking a sip. He then swallowed the water and the pills together before he sighed and looked at Gaon, holding out the glass. “Thank you” he murmured. Gaon nodded as Yohan turned back towards the picture. “You look like your mother” he murmured, reaching out to pick up the frame again. Gaon smiled slightly. “Do I?” he asked. Yohan nodded as he looked over at him. “Mm. You have her eyes” he stated. Gaon smiled. “Thank you” he whispered. Yohan chuckled and nodded as he placed the photo back down before yawning, making Gaon’s eyes widen. “Oh, you’re probably exhausted. You can take the bed” he offered, motioning to his bed. Yohan frowned. “What about you? Where are you going to sleep?” he asked. Gaon smiled. “I can sleep on the floor. It’s fine” he assured. Yohan frowned again. “Are you sure?” he asked. Gaon nodded. “Mmhm. Besides, I’m not the one who got the shit kicked out him…though I’m surprised you got the shit kicked out of you, considering who you are” he stated. Yohan huffed. “I told you, he surprised me and caught me off guard” he grumbled. Gaon chuckled. “Whatever you say” he replied as Yohan walked over to the bed and laid down, letting out a soft groan as he let himself relax into the bed. Gaon watched him for a moment before he walked over and carefully placed the blanket over him, making Yohan look up at him with wide eyes. “Get some sleep” he murmured. Yohan continued to stare at him before he hummed and shut his eyes, sleep soon taking him thanks to the pain medication Gaon gave him. Once he was asleep, Gaon stared down at him before he slowly sat down beside his bed, watching as Yohan’s chest rose and fell, not realizing how tired he was until his eyes began to flutter and before he knew it, his head was resting in his arms, his own chest rising and falling as sleep took him. ~*~*~*~*~*~ The next morning, Yohan slowly opened his eyes and let out a soft groan, his entire body aching. He then began to look around, realizing that he was not in his own bedroom and not in his own house anymore. ‘Where am I?’ he thought to himself, just as he heard soft breathing from beside him, making him look over to see Gaon asleep next to him, his face looking so young. Yohan stared at him for a moment before he remembered the night before and he let out a soft hum. ‘Right…I’m in his house’ he thought to himself as he slowly sat up, careful to not wake Gaon from his slumber, but it was too late, the movement of the bed made Gaon slowly lift his head and blink before he looked up at Yohan, both men staring at each other before Gaon blinked. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep. Yohan smiled. “I did. Thank you” he replied. Gaon nodded as he slowly pushed himself to his feet, hissing as he massaged his neck. “Fuck, that was not a comfortable position to sleep in” he murmured. Yohan chuckled. “I think the bed was big enough…I think we could have shared it” he stated. Gaon’s eyes widened and he blushed before he cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t want to share my bed with an injured person…what if I hurt you in my sleep? I wouldn’t even know. No, it was better that you took the bed” he stated. Yohan hummed before he sighed. “Do you have my suit? I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to come home in this” he explained, motioning to the outfit he was wearing. Gaon’s eyes widened before he nodded. “Oh yeah” he replied, quickly heading into the kitchen area before coming back with Yohan’s neatly folded, but still dirty, suit. “Here you go” he declared. Yohan smiled and reached out, taking his suit before standing to his feet, heading to the bathroom to change. After he changed, he stepped out of the bathroom, once more dressed impeccably in his suit, making Gaon hum. “You’ll probably have to get that suit dry-cleaned…it’s kind of dirty” he mused. Yohan chuckled. “Probably” he agreed. He and Gaon then stared at each other, neither man saying anything before Gaon cleared his throat. “I can uh…take you home” he offered. Yohan’s eyes widened before he nodded. “That uh…that would be appreciated” he replied. Gaon smiled before he turned and headed towards the front door, grabbing his keys off the hook, Yohan following after him, both men slipping on their shoes. As they headed out of the house, Yohan let out a heavy sigh. “Oh, Elijah’s going to kill me” he murmured. Gaon looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. “Elijah? Who’s she?” he asked. Yohan smirked. “My niece” he answered. Gaon’s eyes widened before he held up a finger. “Wait a minute” he instructed as he quickly walked over to his wall of many plants, searching them until he found a pretty pink succulent, carefully plucking it from its spot on the wall. He then walked back over to Yohan and held it out to him, Yohan looking at it in confusion. “What is that?” he asked. Gaon smiled. “For your niece. As an apology” he explained. Yohan blinked in surprise before he reached out and took the succulent, looking at it for a moment before he looked back at Gaon. “Thank you” he murmured. Gaon smiled and nodded before he headed down the stairs to where his car was parked, Yohan following slowly after him, since he was still sore from yesterday. Once they reached the car, they both quickly got inside before Gaon looked over at him. “You gotta be my navigation, boss. Cuz I have no idea where you live” he stated. Yohan smiled before he nodded. “Start the car” he instructed. Gaon nodded and quickly turned on the car, shifting it into drive before he took off, driving away from his apartment. ~*~*~*~*~*~ After driving for what seemed like forever, Gaon finally reached Yohan’s house, a big black mansion out in the middle of literal bumfuck nowhere. “Holy shit, you live here?” Gaon breathed as he pulled into the driveway. Yohan hummed. “I do” he replied. Gaon then looked over at him in shock. “Just you and your niece?” he asked. Yohan chuckled. “It’s been in the family for years so…yeah” he answered. Gaon shook his head. “Jesus, I wouldn’t know what to do with all this space” he murmured. Yohan scoffed. “Well, it’s certainly much bigger than the hamster cage that’s your apartment” he replied. Gaon hummed. “That’s fair” he agreed as Yohan looked at him. “Think about my offer, hmm? I’d like to have you on my team, Gaon, a part of my family” he stated. Gaon’s eyes widened and he stared at him for a moment before he nodded. “I’ll…think about it” he murmured. Yohan smiled and nodded before he got out of the car, succulent in hand, and headed towards the front door, Gaon watching him the entire time. He waited till Yohan had unlocked the door and stepped inside before he shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway, giving the mansion one last look before he shifted the car into drive and drove away, heading back towards the city. ~*~*~*~*~*~ As he drove back to the city, Gaon couldn’t get Yohan’s words out of his head. How Yohan wanted him…to be a part of his family. After his parents died, Gaon really never had a family. He had Soohyun and Jungho, but they weren’t his…family. And he missed that. Having a family. And if he could get that with Yohan…even if his family was a “mob” family…shouldn’t he take it while it was being offered to him? “Ah, fuck it” he grumbled, quickly pulling a u-ie before speeding back towards Yohan’s mansion. ~*~*~*~*~*~ Gaon soon arrived at Yohan’s mansion and quickly pulled into the driveway again, this time putting the car into park and killing the engine, making sure that his parking brake was on before he got out of the car, slamming his door behind him. He then walked over to the front door and rang the doorbell, patiently waiting for someone to answer it. He thankfully didn’t have to wait very long because soon the door opened and a young girl in a wheelchair, around sixteen, with light skin, long black hair, and brown eyes stared at him. “What do you want?” she demanded. Gaon blinked, just as Yohan appeared, a look of surprise on his face when he saw Gaon. “Gaon. What are you doing here?” he asked. Gaon looked at him before he cleared his throat. “I’d like to um…join” he answered. Yohan raised an eyebrow before he smiled and nodded. “Of course. Come in” he insisted as he looked down at the girl. “Elijah, move out of the way, please” he asked. The young girl, Elijah, huffed but did as she was told, rolling out of the way so that Gaon could enter the mansion. As soon as Gaon stepped inside, Yohan shut the door behind him before he looked at Gaon and smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good boy. Good choice” he praised. Gaon’s eyes widened, and tears immediately began to fill them, making Yohan look at him in shock. “Gaon?” he whispered, Gaon quickly shaking his head as he wiped at his eyes. “God, sorry. It’s just…I haven’t heard that phrase in such a long time” he murmured. Yohan frowned. “What phrase? Good boy?” he asked. Gaon nodded as he hung his head. “My mom used to say it to me all the time…after she died, I haven’t heard anyone say it to me…I mean, why would they? I ran with gangs, I drank, I smoke, I played hooky…I wasn’t a good boy” he whispered. Yohan looked at him before he huffed and reached out, gently grasping his chin between his thumb and index finger, lifting Gaon’s head so that he was looking into his eyes. “I don’t know about you, Kim Gaon, but I think the choices you’ve made…with helping the gangs and all, taking the cases that no one wanted to take, helping the people whose voices who wouldn’t have been heard if you hadn’t helped them…I think those choices have made you a good boy. And I think your mother would be proud of you” he murmured. Gaon’s eyes widened, and more tears filled them before spilling down his cheeks. “Really?” he whispered. Yohan chuckled as he released Gaon’s chin and wiped the tears away with his thumbs. “Yes, I think so” he agreed as he pulled away and turned, heading towards another room in the mansion before he paused and looked over his shoulder at him. “And I think she’d still think you’re a good boy if you took care of Doh Youngchoon…that way he can’t hurt anyone else” he stated before he kept walking. Gaon watched him walk away before he laughed and wiped at his eyes, following after Yohan. Huh. Who knew after all these years…even with all the choices he made…he was still a good boy.

#sass writes #the devil judge #kim gaon #kang yohan #kang elijah #gahan #lawful husbands #mafia!kang yohan #lawyer!kim gaon #former gangster!kim gaon #mafia au

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bluboothalassophile · 3 years ago

Text

Rule of Three

Raven had been left in a bad spot all because of dick. No wait, that was and wasn’t right. Yes, it was because of Dick and dick; fucking dick! She wanted to scream, she wanted to go beat her head against an old iron lamp post or something.

This was New York City! It was hard enough getting a place, getting the lease, the rent and so forth, but now, now she was fucked because of Dick! Oh she was so mad, and if she wasn’t so desperate she’d be actively chewing out Wally and Kori for ditching her and putting her in this pickle to begin with.

It had all been simple really, they’d all been friends at NYU and had decided to go in on an apartment after graduation so they could save some expenses. And it was a splendid idea because, they all just got on fabulously, and they were good friends, so it would be a fine arrangement. Also, they’d all lived together senior year, so this would work in their favor, they knew how to live together. That is until Dick Fucking Grayson came sashaying back into town.

Dick had been Wally’s best friend, and Kori’s true love, and they’d both run to him faster than Raven could say ‘Timbuktu’, leaving her flat on her ass, with a three bedroom apartment she couldn’t afford on her own and only her name on the lease. It made her so mad. The only reason she’d gotten the apartment was because of the three of them she had the best credit score, so… Yeah, she was fucked.

And in an attempt to unfuck herself, she had been interviewing subletters all day, because she was desperate.

Her standards were actually very low at this point, they just couldn’t be serial killers, and they couldn’t work for organized crime. Or be on parole. As Raven had said, her standards were exceptionally, painfully low.

And thus far, all her interviewees were strikes. One was for sure a hitman, the other was probably an addict, the other two were a very incesty vibes set of twins; she didn’t want to know; and then there’d been a for sure runaway who was so not eighteen it was almost funny seeing this kid try to pass for an adult. Raven was loosing hope, she was really loosing hope. After a week of bad interviews she was thinking she’d have to move back to Saugerties with her moms and brother, and that was just going to be the biggest ‘I told you so’ from her aunt. Raven would sell her soul to make the New York dream work, she also might take the hitman as her roommate so she could sic him on Dick fucking Grayson; the dick.

This was her final set of interviews so she might be able to save her ass from moving back to Saugerties and working at the ice cream shop.

“Please don’t be a serial killer, please don’t be a serial killer,” she muttered as she opened her door for the final interviews.

“Oi, Roy! Hurry the fuck up!” a huge man bellowed as he did his tie up.

“I’m here!”

“This is all your fault, so get over here,” the other man ordered.

Raven blinked stupidly as the two hottest men she’d ever seen were standing before her. The first was a massive man, black, curly hair, blue eyes with green rings around then and a smattering of freckles over his nose and cheeks, there was a stubborn white streak in his hair (he looked like Richard Madden who Raven had been crushing on since the Bodyguard). The other guy was a lot leaner, but no less hot; he had long brilliant red hair, sharp features and brilliant green eyes (he looked like Sam Heughan; where the hell did these men get their genetics from!?)

“I can only apologize so many times… and whoa, hey there cutie,” the redhead said with a bright smile. The black haired man shoved the other man’s face back as he looked at Raven.

“Ignore him, he’s an idiot,” he said firmly. “I’m Jason Todd, that’s Roy Harper,” he said with a slight smile, but he kept his face serious.

“Raven Roth,” she said as she shook his hand firmly. “Come in,” she stepped aside and gestured for them to come in. They did, Roy gave her a charming smile, Jason grabbed Roy by the collar and pulled him into the apartment.

“Have a seat, gentlemen,” she said, gesturing to her beat up couch. She took a seat on the barstool as she looked at them. “So… I have just a few basic questions,” she started. “Um… what do you do for a living?”

“I just signed with the Rangers,” Jason stated.

“The Rangers?”

“Jaybird is a hocky defenseman,” Roy smiled.

“Roy here is a pitcher for the New York Yankees. And we’re here because he fucked up and now we’re both on a time crunch, your listing is close enough to where we need to be and far enough away we can be anonymous,” Jason explained.

“It’s not my fault he came back to town!” Roy muttered.

Jason growled lowly as he glared at Roy. “Anyways, we need a place, we don’t smoke, or party, he’s in AA, but I drink, and we keep to ourselves.”

“Oh,” Raven blinked.

“What about you?” Roy asked with a smile.

“I’m working at the library,” Raven explained. “And I’m writing a book, so, there’s that, and I do work for my grandfather, managing his business.”

“Awesome,” Jason nodded.

“So… the rules are simple, I mean I like it quiet and clean, but I don’t want to baby you…”

“Perfect, we don’t need a sitter or a mother,” Jason promised.

“Okay,” Raven nodded.

She asked a few more questions, and they were both happy to answer. She learned Roy was three years sober, Jason was his best friend, they hadn’t ever played a sport in the same city and decided to splurge and room together. They’d been roommates in college. They had had an apartment, but then something had happened, and Jason had decided they needed to be subletters to keep a low profile. Raven was fine with that. When they had discussed the lay out and the apartment, because they were the most normal people she had met with, she had decided to take them up on their offer, because they were willing to cover the apartment so long as she didn’t leak, they lived there. She was fine with that, and when it was all over, she had two roommates.

Jason said he’d make arrangements for their stuff, Roy flirted a bit more with her, which had her blushing a lot before they were gone. Raven shut the door of her apartment feeling a flutter about this, and genuinely excited that she didn’t have to move back to Saugerties.

“Hello?” she answered her phone.

“Raven! I am so sorry I have not been able to call you,” Kori’s voice filled her ear excitedly. “I have spoken to Dick and he would be most pleased if you came to live with us, his brother refuses to move in apparently, so there is a spare room!”

Raven grimaced at the idea of being a fourth wheel and living with a celebrity; Dick Grayson was an Acclaimed Actor in Hollywood afterall and a big heart throb for all the girls. “No, that’s okay, I’ve found someone to sublet,” Raven said.

“Really!?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, I am so pleased for you, this will be glorious, Raven!” Kori giggled.

“It’ll be something,” she muttered. “I have to go, my grandfather is calling.”

“I will speak with you soon!” Kori giggled and hung up. Raven just sighed as she leaned on the door. She was feeling all sorts of butterflies and latent attraction thinking about Jason Todd and Roy Harper; they were insanely hot! But they also didn’t seem like bad people, and she was desperately in need of roommates.

She hoped this work, because she needed this to work! Part 2 from @shewhowillnotbenamed1! =) MWAHAHAHAHAHA!

#bluboothalassophile #shewhowillnotbenamed1 #fanfic #raven #jason todd #roy harper #jayrae #royrae #jayraeroy #jayroy #rule of three au #they were roommates

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hoe-doroki · 4 years ago

Note

Hi there! I don't think I've requested anything from you before ( my memory is awful though)

Anyhow I was wondering if I could get some Izuku smut with a female reader.

The scene is youre out with your girls, ( mina, hagakure, Momo) at the club having a good time. You see this green eyed stranger looking at you across the room.

His boys hype him up to ask you to dance and it ends up turning into following him back home ( I LIVE for soft dom! Deku!)

Thanks for taking the time to read and answer this!

Ugh, sorry this took so long, nonnie! You sent this in just as I was being eaten alive by a fic that’s wayyyyy longer than it needs to be. But I’m here now and you said the magic words: soft dom. Yesssss. I went college!AU for this and I hate clubs (drinking, dancing, flirting, no thanks) so I projected that on the reader a bit. Oopsie! It was hard to keep Izuku in character for this, but I did my best. Anyway, hope you like!

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, Kaminari and M*neta leering, spanking, slight exhibitionism, alcohol (not drunk sex, though), dirty talk

rating: explicit, 18+

wc: 5k

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Sometimes people looked at you, Mina, Momo, and Tooru and wondered how you were friends. People who had only known each of you as you were in college could never put it together. But the answer was simple: you’d been friends since high school. You were rapidly becoming different people, but those three were still your girls through and through.

That was how you, Mina, Tooru, and Momo ended up in the club that day. Two friends who really wanted to go—Mina and Tooru—and two friends who really didn’t—you and Momo. These things happen when you become friends years before you could be allowed in any club. Your college friends never would have invited you on an excursion like this—hell, none of them would ever be seen at a club either. But when Mina and Tooru showed up at your door begging you to go out and experience your twenties, you couldn’t say no. Now you were spilling out of the car Mina had called and walking on high heeled booties to a club you’d heard of but never been to.

“Obviously you actually wanted to go, Momo, otherwise you wouldn’t be wearing a top like that.”

Tooru wasn’t hiding the fact that she was ogling Momo’s very prominently displayed chest, all but bursting out of the deep v-neck she had paired with a short skirt.

“It’s only sensible for me to wear a top like this,” Momo said, her voice firm despite awkward fidgets to put her breasts a little more away. “Places like these are so hot that a shirt with a higher neckline would be soaked with cleavage sweat in a minute.”

“Mhmm, right,” Tooru said, flouncing away in her own crop top and shorts, eager to enter the club.

You’d gone simple, just tossing on a bodycon dress that you’d ordinarily pair with a sweater and tights, but that Mina had convinced you to wear on its own tonight. You crossed your arms, the chill of the evening seeping past the thin fabric even just in the short time it took to get from the heated car to the sweaty bar.

Tooru had run to the door and was nearly bouncing, waiting for the rest of you to catch up. Mina jogged over to her, looking the coolest of all of you in her black mesh crop top with nothing but a bra underneath and shorts that had the lacy scalloped hem of her underwear peaking out the top of. You hurried after them, just eager to get out of the cold. Tooru whipped the door open and the three of you piled in all at once, flashed your IDs, and then you were in.

The sound of the bass had thrummed loudly even outside, but once inside, your senses were overloaded. The music was deafening, the smell of alcohol bitter and heady, and the heat of sweaty bodies oppressive as Mina grabbed your wrist and dragged you through the crowd.

Even with Mina clearing the way, you had to elbow your way to the bar. This was the easiest part of the night—a task, something to do aside from trying and failing to work up the nerve to dance. Over the music, you yelled, “Whiskey ginger, well is fine,” to the bartender and turned to your girlfriends.

Mina and Tooru were already swinging their hips as they waited for their drinks, shimmying against each other to the beat. You and Momo were a little stiffer, not quite having the nerve or confidence to let your bodies be taken by the music.

“Girl’s night!” Mina cheered once everyone had a drink in hand. Glasses clinked and Tooru took a healthy gulp of her drink

“Can’t dance if you’re worried about spilling your drink,” Tooru said.

“Not with that attitude!” Mina said. She thrust her beer bottle in the air and then grabbed Tooru’s hand and the two of them stumbled into the mass of writhing bodies.

“You gonna follow them?” Momo asked, chewing on the straw of her drink.

“Not yet.” You had to shuffle away from the bar to make room for other patrons, moving to lean against one of the walls. “Maybe a bit of liquid courage.”

“It probably would have been wiser to do shots.”

You looked around, noticing how many people were already sending glances Momo’s way. You could draw direct lines all around the room between men’s leering eyes and Momo’s partially exposed chest, already beginning to glisten with sweat. You pursed your lips. It was nice to have Momo around as a fellow shy dancer, but it was discouraging to always be the one next to the prettiest girl in the room. People were looking right through you.

“You’ll probably get some sent your way soon enough,” you muttered.

“What?” Momo asked, her voice loud over the music.

“Nothing!” you replied. You squeezed the lime wedge into your drink and swirled it, drinking thirstily.

You hoped for one of two things. For the night to pass by quickly or for, unlikely though it was, something exciting to happen. Bars and clubs were predictable. Just once, you wanted to be surprised.

“Woah, look at her.”

Midoriya tried and failed to follow his friend’s gaze into one of the dark corners of the bar. Mineta was a good foot shorter than Midoriya, so it was hard to tell exactly where his line of sight was taking him. Kaminari seemed to hone in right away, though, pointing eagerly at the wall near the bar.

“Good find, Mineta,” Kaminari said. “Damn she’s hot.”

Midoriya followed Kaminari’s finger and noticed two girls huddled close together, sipping their drinks and observing the crowd, occasionally leaning over to talk to each other. One was dressed in a top and skirt and the other in a tight dress. The second girl’s hips were moving to the beat just slightly, as though she might not even know herself that she was doing it. She laughed at something her friend said, smile opening wide and fearlessly.

“Wow,” Midoriya said, eyes locked on her.

“What, did Mineta finally find a girl to meet your ridiculously high standards?” Kaminari asked, clapping Midoriya on the back.

“Maybe,” Midoriya murmured, watching as she waved to some other girls in the crowd.

“About time,” Mineta said. “I’ve never seen more perfect tits in my life.”

That snapped Midoriya out of his focus and he looked down at his friend, whose eyes were unblinking, scarily locked straight ahead. “What?”

“That plunging neckline perfectly showing what it would look like if I had my hands on either side of them,” he continued, his voice distant. Luckily, Kaminari smacked him upside the head.

“If you’re saying it loud enough to be heard over the music, you’re saying it too loud,” Kaminari chastised. “Besides, if Midoriya finally found a girl he likes, you should give him first dibs.”

“What?” Mineta asked, turning towards Kaminari, outraged.

“Wait, wait, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Midoriya said, waving his hands in front of him before his friends could have it out. “The girl I was looking at isn’t wearing a plunging neckline. Look there.”

Midoriya pointed in your direction as subtly as he could, smiling as he caught another glimpse of your beautiful laugh.

“Oh, her friend,” Mineta said.

“Yeah, that tracks,” Kaminari added, looking between Midoriya and you. “Well, you should go for it, man! Try your luck!”

Midoriya looked at Kaminari, brows furrowed. “Did you guys invite me just to get me laid or something?”

“Of course not,” Mineta said. “Your innocent face makes us look less like two fuckboys and the girls will trust us more. You’re our cover.”

“Purely selfish reasons then, okay,” Midoriya muttered. “Okay, yeah, I’ll go talk to her.”

“Do it!” Kaminari said, giving you a thumbs up. He kicked the back of Midoriya’s calf and sent him tumbling into the crowd. Amidst a song of sorrys, Midoriya made his uncertain way toward you.

Three men had already tried their luck with Momo in as many songs. She’d kindly refused each advance—no level of drunkenness had ever led Momo to so much as a sloppy makeout and you weren’t sure how many times hell would have to freeze over for that to change. You joked about each of the guys and their sad pick-up attempts, but, still, it had you feeling low. None of the guys even pretended to be interested in you. They went straight for Momo, trying their darndest to keep their eyes on hers and not drift south.

“Hello, uh, miss…”

You nearly rolled your eyes as you looked up from your drink, half gone already, to find another sucker that Momo would have to reject. As soon as your eyes landed on him, you were struck by how different this one was from the others. He didn’t look like the usual meathead dude-bro who swung by. He had a round face and freckles smattered under the roundest green eyes you’d ever seen. He looked sheepish already, anticipating the rejection he’d get from talking to a girl so far out of his league.

You felt the jolt of an elbow in your ribs and looked at Momo who was giving you intense eyes, eyebrows raised. She looked at you and then at the boy with the green hair, tilting her head, and suddenly you realized that you were “miss.”

“Oh, hello,” you said, unable to hide the confusion on your face.

“I’m Izuku,” the man said, smiling softly at you. “Would you, um, care to dance?”

You smiled. It sounded like this boy was expecting a waltz instead of the hips that were grinding against each other in the middle of this dance floor.

“I’m… not sure,” you said, so unfamiliar with the procedure here that you were floundering. “You see, I don’t really dance.”

The boy breathed out what looked to be a sigh of relief and you suddenly noticed the muscles bulging under his t-shirt. His cute, innocent face was hiding a man who was seriously stacked. “The truth is, I don’t usually dance either. I was pressured into coming here by some friends.”

You looked over at Momo. “We know the feeling.”

“Ah, I’m so sorry, I didn’t get your names,” Izuku said, suddenly looking between the two of you.

Momo looked at you for a second then said, “I’m Momo and this is Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Izuku.”

“You as well,” Izuku said to Momo before turning back to you. “You know, the thing about dancing is that if you just start and let go of everything, it can actually be kind of fun.”

This boy sounded just like Mina, the same argument she made every time she dragged you and Momo to one of these things. Sometimes you managed to let your guard down enough to enjoy it, sometimes not.

“It’s also more fun with someone else.”

Izuku was looking at you hopefully, and that just made his eyes even wider, such a dark forest green in the dim light of the club. You could feel yourself being pulled to him, like a string between you growing taut when Momo put a hand on your arm. “I’ll hold your drink and just come back when you want it, okay?”

Momo was giving you an intent gaze and you knew she was offering you an out. Try dancing with the boy and, if it wasn’t turning out well, say that you needed to go back to your friend. Easy.

“Okay,” you said, taking one more sip before handing your drink off to her. Then you extended you hand toward Izuku, who took it with his broadest smile yet, and led you into the mosh pit.

There was no sign of Mina or Tooru anywhere, haven fallen invisible in the throng of people. So it was just you and Izuku and a hundred strangers, all feeling the music sync with their heartbeats and then their hips, sending them moving.

You started facing each other, your hips moving from side to side, the rhythm slowly moving up so that your shoulders were shimmying, head bobbing. Izuku grinned, bopping along excitedly. He wasn’t a smooth dancer, not cool or rhythmic, but he didn’t seem to care. He put his hands lightly on your hips, encouraging you to move a little more. Asking you to let go.

You let your hips follow his touch and laughed when he rocked you from side to side, totally out of line with anything that might be sensual or suggestive. It was silly and you realized that maybe you’d been putting too much pressure to look a certain way, to be a certain kind of person. Music was for everyone, dancing was for everyone. Izuku seemed to know that already.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, giving yourself into the joy as the two of you rocked, free of expectation or anyone else’s experience. Before you knew it, the music had changed, the next song slightly slower, and your motions smoothed out to match. Izuku slid one of his hands back into yours and raised it over your head, initiating a turn. You went along and the next thing you knew, your back was pressed against his muscular chest, hips moving in tandem.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Mhmm.”

You could feel all corners of him pressed against you and you couldn’t help but push back into him. His chest was broader than it seemed, and you could feel the crease of his pecs, of his abs. His hands were on your hips, strong arms brushing your sides. You brought one hand up to touch his bare bicep, feeling how hard it was even unflexed.

Suddenly, you could feel Izuku’s breath on your jaw, the flutter of his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. You tilted your head, exposing the long column of your neck to him. He took that as invitation enough and pressed a kiss to it. He kissed up to your jawline and just behind your ear. He gave the lightest of sucks before you pulled away and offered him your mouth.

He took it eagerly, your lips moving at the same pace as your gyrating hips. You lost yourself in the feeling, the anonymity of kissing, hidden in a crowd of people. The rhythmic dance of your hips lulling you into a kind of easy complacency as you felt Izuku’s hand on the back of your neck, keeping your lips against his. The other one crept forward on your thigh, awfully close to your center, to the hem of your too-short skirt. He never breached either line, though. Just kept his hand there, suggesting where it could go.

“Come home with me,” you whispered when you separated for breath.

“What?” Izuku asked, face flushed, voice just carrying over the music.

You twisted back around so that you were face to face so that you could press your lips right up against his ear. “Come home with me, Izuku.”

You called for a car and sent Momo a text saying that you were going home. You hoped that Momo, Mina, and Tooru wouldn’t want to come back to your shared home anytime soon—Momo was smart enough to figure that out herself.

Twenty minutes later and you were home, you were horny, and you had someone willing and able to solve that.

“You’re not drunk, are you?” Izuku asked while you unlocked the door and ushered him in, kicking off your shoes as quickly as you could.

“Half a drink,” you said quickly. “You?”

“None.”

“Perfect,” you said, and you wrapped your arms around him once again, pulling him in for a kiss.

Izuku did you one better, grabbing hold of your thighs and picking you up like you weighed nothing. Your dress rose up over your hips and your center fell right against his crotch, grinding into it.

You were ready to give directions to your room, but Izuku didn’t carry you further than the living room before slamming your back against a wall and pressing his hips into yours. You gasped at the impact, but it was nothing painful—just surprising. Izuku dug his fingers into your thighs and said, “You seemed awfully eager for this. Desperate enough to handle a little roughness, princess? Or did you think this was gonna be easy?”

The epithet of princess send your heart plunging to your core, heat spreading throughout you. His voice was low, much lower than it had been at the club and your thighs clenched around him. “I thought…maybe…”

He’d been so sweet at the club, shy almost. You tasted his tongue on yours and he hadn’t been lying—no alcohol. The only taste passing between the two of you was the tang from your whiskey ginger. But now his grip on you and the low growl in his voice was telling you another story.

“Do you wanna be rough or do you wanna be a little princess? Or maybe both?”

“Both,” you keened desperately, breathlessly.

“I shoulda known, you grinding down on my cock like that,” he said, nibbling your exposed neck. “Can’t wait for me to fuck you, can you?”

He pulled back so you slid an inch down the wall, but his grip was tight enough to keep you from falling any further. Then his hips slammed back into yours, as though you were fucking already.

“Shit,” you whispered as he bit down on your collarbone.

“If you’re good, I’ll give you what you want,” he said. “If you’re not, it’s going to be a very long night.”

That half threat was almost enough to trigger your backtalk, see exactly what he had in mind to turn this night into a long one. But, by the same coin, you wanted to see what he had planned already.

“I’m good,” you whimpered.

“You are?” Izuku asked. “Prove it.”

He pressed his chest into yours, and you felt your breasts flatten against his pecs, your ribs trapped from a deep breath by his thick forearms.

“Strip and suck my cock.”

You unwrapped your legs from his waist and he released you to the ground. Your dress was stretchy and off in an instant, thrown to the floor, panties soon to follow. Then you were on your knees undoing his dark jeans and pulling out his long, plump cock.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, stroking your hair.

Preening at the praise, you wrapped your lips around your teeth, and swallowed him as far as you could go in one go. You wanted to be a good girl, after all.

“Shit,” Izuku said, keeping a light grip on the back of your head, but letting you do what you want, setting your own pace. You wasted no time with playful licks and kisses, immediately bobbing your head up and down and stroking the rest with your hand.

The noises that Izuku made, little huffs and whines, were cute, showing glimpses of the shy boy who had approached you at the club. He took off his shirt and you could see his abs in all their glory, even better than you’d imagined. As you sucked him off, you brought a hand up to the ridges of his lower abs and rubbed lightly, enjoying the hard muscle. After a trip down to his balls, sucking one into his mouth and you kept up your firm strokes, Izuku pulled you off, breathing heavily.

“That’s good. You’ve proven that you’re a good girl, princess.”

“I did?” you asked shyly, giving his cock a long lick just to make sure.

“Yes,” Izuku shuddered. “Stand against the wall.”

“Here?” you asked.

There were windows all over your living room, giving a clear view to the street and, more importantly, from the street into your apartment. More than that, there was no telling when your housemates would get home and, even if they knew you’d brought a boy home, they’d hardly expect him to be fucking you in the living room.

“Was I unclear, princess?”

“No,” you said, and you went to stand facing the wall. Izuku came up behind you and knocked your legs further apart, and then reached in front of you, rubbing two fingers from your slit up to your clit in a couple firm strokes. You gasped, your head falling forward, but before you could get used to the rough touch, he was gone.

“Where do you keep your condoms?” he asked casually.

“In my nightstand,” you said, moving to stand straight. He pushed your hands back against the wall, warning you not to move.

“Which room is yours?”

“The far one on the left,” you said, only turning your head to look over your shoulder.

“Good,” he said. “Don’t move.”

Then he was gone, leaving you naked, legs spread in your living room. You could feel how drenched you were—Izuku had taken a whole globule of your wetness and spread it all over your pussy. Now, standing spread, you could feel the cold air from the room on you when all you wanted was heat.

Izuku took his time in coming back, slow footfalls making their way back to the living room. You saw a box of condoms drop on the couch next to you and heard the telltale sound of one of the packages being ripped open. The next thing you knew, Izuku’s hands were on your hips, just like at the club, only now his cock was free, sliding in the slick of your pussy.

You gasped, pushing harder against the wall and thrusting your ass back toward Izuku. “Please,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you don’t have to ask,” Izuku said casually. “I know exactly what your slutty pussy wants. I can feel it dripping all over my cock. And you’ve been very good, princess, but that doesn’t mean that you’re in charge. Understand?”

“Yes, Izuku.”

You were pushed forward by the sudden force of a slap against your ass, then Izuku’s chest pressing firmly back into yours, his teeth by your ear. “Yes, who?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

“That’s better.”

He went back to thrusting, one of his hands snaking around your front, through your curls to spread your lips. Your puffy clit was exposed to the air and Izuku’s fingers spreading the skin provided just the slightest bit of pressure, but not nearly enough. You whined, bending more into him, aching for more contact than the occasional brush of his cock skating across your clit. But you wanted to be a good girl too.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Izuku said, his thrusts coming to a stop as the head of his cock butterflied your opening. “You’ve been very patient. Are you ready for your reward?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathed.

You groaned in relief as he split you open, sinking into you just as he pulled his fingers in a hard, slow stroke up your clit.

“You like that, princess?” Izuku asked, making his thrusts slow and deep, his finger’s strokes on your clit languid and intentional.

“Yes,” you moaned, rocking your weight back onto your heels as you met Izuku’s every plunge.

“You feel so good,” Izuku said, his voice becoming softer and more breathy as he got lost in the feel of you. His right hand began spinning circles on your clit, the left wrapped around your middle, fingertips rubbing almost tenderly along your side.

You could only pant, leaning your head back on his shoulder as Izuku’s thrusts sped up, your climax rising within you. “Fuck,” you murmured as his left hand fell to your hip, changing the angle so that he was now pounding your g-spot with every go. He continued like that for a minute, each hit bringing you higher and higher until he suddenly stopped.

“What?” you asked, and the next thing you knew, you were being pushed to the arm of your couch, a hand to the small of your back pressing your spine parallel to the floor, and—before you knew what was happening—he was back in you, going full speed.

You gasped, your head falling down, nipples rubbing against the fabric of the couch as your tits were sent swinging. That sensation caught you, sending fresh sparks through you.

“Are you close, Princess?” Izuku breathed, his quick thrusts breaking his voice.

“Yes, sir.”

“Touch yourself, then.”

You followed his instruction immediately, snaking your hand down to your clit and rubbing it with your practiced touch. The feeling of your cold fingers against your scorching clit, Izuku’s hot cock railing in and out of you, and the occasional spark of your nipples rubbing against the couch had you on the edge of your peak in no time.

“You gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum on my cock?”

“Yes,” you whispered, the heat in your stomach burning, almost unbearable as you reached your cusp.

“I’m close too, Y/N,” Izuku whispered. “God, you’re so perfect.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto your shoulder just as you shattered around him, keening as you rubbed yourself through your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he said, and you felt his thrusts become jagged, barely leaving you every time before plunging balls deep back into you. He shuddered and, before long, he finished too, taking slow, easy thrusts in and out of you before falling fully on your back, wrapping his arms around your middle.

He stayed there for just a moment before pulling out, taking off his condom and knotting it. You’d collapsed onto the arm of your sofa, face falling down the side as you tried to get your breath back under you, the feeling back into your legs.

“Was that too much?” Izuku asked, his voice soft and gentle again as he came in front of you, gently putting his fingers under your chin to bring your face back to him.

“No, that was amazing,” you said.

Izuku smiled and brought your lips to his for a quick kiss. “I’m glad. Where do you keep your water glasses?”

“Cabinet above the sink.”

“Great.”

Izuku gave you another kiss, this time on the cheek, and then he was gone. You stayed still for a few more moments, your breath back in both hands, the heat seeping from your face slowly but steadily. You pressed yourself up, curling your spine like a cat to fight against the deep sway you’d had against the couch and the wall and gave a little shimmy to work out the kinks. You took a quick trip to the bathroom, then you went around and scooped up all the pieces of clothing that had been thrown hither and yon and carted them back to your room. You’d just flipped on the light switch and dropped them in a pile on the floor when Izuku came back with a glass of water and a wash cloth.

“You got up,” he said.

“I just didn’t want my roommates to get home to find me fucked out against the couch,” you said with a smile, taking the glass he handed to you. “We have house rules.”

“That’s fair,” Izuku said as you took a glug of water. “Lie back on the bed.”

His voice was far less demanding than before, but you went along anyway. You set the water glass on the nightstand and then lay down, allowing Izuku to spread your legs. Some of the old heat returned to your face and you looked away from him as he took the washcloth to your center.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” he said.

“It’s just different,” you squeaked. “After we’re done…In the full light and you’re just down there looking at me.”

“It’s only for a moment longer,” Izuku said as he cleaned you. True to his word, he took the washcloth away after a moment, pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, and said, “You’re beautiful.”

The washcloth was added to the stack of clothes on the floor, and then Izuku was back in front of you, running his fingers lightly along the outside of your thigh.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said softly.

You sat up, putting a hand on his arm. “Stay.”

“Can I?”

His eyes were wide and innocent, like he hadn’t just fucked you raw in plain sight of the neighbors. Like he hadn’t spanked you and called you princess.

“Of course,” you said.

“I’m glad.” He smiled. “Cuddling is kind of my favorite part.”

“Is it, now?”

“I’ll prove it,” Izuku said, flipping off the light and climbing into bed behind you as you settled in. Then he had you wrapped tight in his arms, pulled flush against his chest. He let out a deep, satisfied sigh into your neck and said, “It’s just the best.”

“It kind of is,” you said, snuggling back against him.

There were a few more murmurs shared between you two but, slowly, the words fell loose, eyes falling closed. Your breathing evened out, and then there was nothing but Izuku’s arms and breath around yours.

“There’s a box of condoms on the couch!” you heard Mina screech a couple hours later, jolting you out of your deep sleep. You felt Izuku’s arms tighten protectively around you as he too let out a sharp intake of breath. “Our girl fucked!”

“Ooh, what a surprise!” Tooru cheered.

“Out here?” you heard Momo groan, her voice much more tired than Mina’s or Tooru’s.

“Dammit,” you whispered, and Izuku giggled behind you.

“That was my fault, I’m sorry.”

“Shh, just go back to sleep,” you said. “If we wake up early, we can sneak you out before any of them are up.”

“So long as I get to see you again,” Izuku murmured, nuzzling back into your shoulder.

Your chest warmed and you pulled Izuku’s arms closer against you, gripping them tightly before your hold fell lax in sleep. Tooru was right—you’d gotten the surprise you’d wanted.

“Definitely.”

#ask ana #deku smut #izuku midoriya smut #not/sfw #mha smut #bnha smut

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writer-ish · 3 years ago

Note

Hi Kat! Here are this week's questions for E x B!

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Thank you to @jamespotterthefirst for humouring me and sending me these questions. I hope that it will help with my OPH/writing rut! I'm so excited to answer them for Brooke x Ethan. 🥰

The setting is: post-Dolores/the Naveen reveal, but pre-Miami.

Let's get started!

INT. COFFEE SHOP - MID-AFTERNOON

Two doctors sit at a small table. One has her leg crossed, foot swinging lightly. Her face is open and slightly amused. The other has his hands clasped loosely between his open legs. He is blatantly less impressed than his colleague.

Ethan: This is ludicrous.

Brooke: [laughs lightly] Can't you just humour them?

Ethan: Last time I checked, we had a job that didn't involve answering foolish questions for some sophomore publication.

Brooke: They want to humanize the doctors in the hospital. Make us more… approachable. It's not a bad idea.

Ethan: [in a low grumble] I don't want to be approached or humanized.

Brooke [loud laugh] Shocker.

Are we all set to begin?

Brooke: [clears throat] Er, yes. Sorry.

Ethan: [glares]

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought ____________

Brooke and Ethan: [look at each other for a beat, then speak simultaneously]

Brooke: Well, I— Ethan: She, uh—

Ethan: [clears throat] You go first.

Brooke: [shoots him a look] Well. I, uh, was taken aback by your presence.

Ethan: What does that mean?

Brooke: Well, you know, you're very—you command a room, let's just say. And then you got awfully bossy, but it was good because I was panicking. And, uh—that's pretty much it. Your turn.

Ethan: I thought she was very young and inexperienced. And I was proven correct almost immediately.

Brooke: [elbows him] Can't you say something nice?

Ethan: You said commanding and bossy!

Brooke: It was a compliment!

Ethan: Fine. She was…surprisingly competent for an intern.

Brooke: [sarcastically waves a hand in front of her face] My goodness, I'm swooning.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Brooke and Ethan: "Fuck."

Brooke: It's not very professional, but—

Ethan: —it is necessary at times. Although I did hear another one from you the other day that I quite enjoyed. "Son of a whore", was it?

Brooke: [blushes] Whoops.

Ethan: You're lucky there weren't any patients around.

Brooke: [innocently] Patients don't swear?

Ethan: [withering look] I'll let you know when patients need to be held to the same professional standards as the doctors who treat them.

Brooke: Well, whatever. I was in the supply closet anyway and it was because I had gotten a cardboard papercut, which is notoriously the worst kind of papercut—[suddenly eyes him suspiciously] I didn't even know you were there.

Ethan: [coughs] I was, uh, walking past when I heard your inappropriate outburst and I stopped to ensure it wasn't a wayward psychiatric patient lost amongst the halls.

Brooke: [dryly] Hilarious.

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Brooke: Oh, blue. Blue-blue. Like, a very crystal clear blue.

Ethan: I think we get it. Brooke's eyes are hazel but they err on the side of green.

Brooke: "Err on the side of green"?

Ethan: Yes. Like when you wore that sweater the other day, they appeared more— [clears throat] I'm not going to sit here and explain the illusion of refractory light. Next question.

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Brooke: [dryly] Just thr—?

Ethan: [cuts her off] Yes, yes, we get the joke, I hate everyone. Brooke on the other hand, hates no one. I believe she should be more discerning.

Brooke: You would.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Ethan: Endearing? I—

Brooke: Oh, oh—the tie thing!

Ethan: The… tie thing?

Brooke: You do this thing when you're trying to get your emotions under control. It's like a [presses thumb against her other fingers in a crab-claw gesture] grab all the way down and then a flat palm just to smooth it again. [mimics a smoothing gesture down the front of her shirt, keeping her face pinched and stoic]. The "double-tie-grab-and-smooth" is what I call it. As of two seconds ago.

Ethan: Fascinating. As for Brooke, I can think of two.

Brooke: Here we go.

Ethan: The first is to ensure she never borrows your pen, as it will be returned to you as though someone inserted it into a pencil sharpener. I don't know how she isn't covered in ink constantly, the way she gnaws on the ends so violently.

Brooke: First of all, it's not that bad. Secondly, [mumbles] I have had a pen or two explode on me.

Ethan: I am extremely unsurprised. And the second is the sheer number of cardigans left everywhere - around my office, the faculty room, patients' rooms, and so on. She leaves them like breadcrumbs in a children's fairytale.

Brooke: [laughing too hard to speak]

Ethan: Yes, very funny and professional.

Brooke: [still laughing] Could you at least…grab one…next time you see it? I'm running low!

Ethan: What a surprise.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

Ethan: [scoffs] A "crush"? The very concept of a 'crush' is extremely juvenile and I refuse to pander to such incongruous—

Brooke: Dr. Harper Emery

Ethan: [splutters] I beg your pardon?

Brooke: [smirks]

Ethan: Well, yours would be that scalpel jockey surfer boy that's always mooning over you.

Brooke: [turns to him, aghast] Bryce? I don't have a crush on him! And neither does he. On me, I mean.

Ethan: On you, indeed.

Brooke: What's that supposed to mean?

Ethan: Hmm? Oh, nothing. Simply that the way he pressed you to the floor in the observation room of Surgery B would say otherwise, that's all.

Brooke: [blushes deeply] You saw that?

Ethan: I see everything, Rookie.

[There is an extended, awkward silence.]

Never Have I Ever:

Ethan: What is this now?

Brooke: [hides a smile] It's a game. A drinking game. You really don't know it?

Ethan: If you're asking if I'm familiar with a college-level excuse to get sauced and forget about my classes for the next week, then no. I don't know it.

Brooke: [rolls her eyes] It's simple. They ask a question. If you've done it, you take a drink. If you haven't, you don't. And [lightly swings her take-out coffee cup in his face] I don't think you'll get drunk on herbal tea, so you'll be fine.

Okay, let's begin. Never have I ever…

...come into work hungover

Brooke and Ethan: [take a drink]

Brooke: Really?

Ethan: I wish I could affect the same level of surprise for you.

...had a fistfight

Brooke and Ethan: [take a drink]

Ethan: [raises an eyebrow at Brooke]

Brooke: [shrugs] Rowdy childhood.

Ethan: [nods] Same. [coughs] Perhaps… rowdy adolescence. And, uh, [another light cough] early adulthood, as well.

Brooke: Dr. Ramsey!

...been kicked out of a bar

Ethan: [takes a drink]

Brooke: Oh?

Ethan: That rowdy early adulthood I spoke of? Yeah.

Brooke: Ah.

...gotten a tattoo

Brooke: [avoids eye contact, takes a drink]

Ethan: [turns to her swiftly, looking shocked, then quickly composes himself] Let me guess - dolphin on your ankle?

Brooke: Shut up.

Ethan: Christ, am I right?

Brooke: No, but you might as well be.

Ethan: [laughs, which seems to surprise them both, then clears his throat] We all have regrets, Dr Spiers.

Brooke: [grimaces and slouches in her seat]

Ethan: [stares at her for a beat longer than necessary, before leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression]

...broken someone’s heart

Ethan and Brooke: [quickly look at each other; neither drinks]

Brooke: No? You?

Ethan: What's that supposed to mean?

Brooke: Just surprised all this [gestures vaguely at his face] didn't get the ladies all worked up in—where are you from?

Ethan: Rhode Island. And no, "all this" [gestures to his own face] took awhile to grow into itself, I assure you.

Brooke: [laughs] Oh, big same.

Ethan: [gives her a sidelong glance, a soft smile playing at his lips]

...been in love

Brooke: [takes a drink]

Ethan: Really?

Brooke: What, it's so hard to believe?

Ethan: Well, you said you'd never broken someone's heart.

Brooke: [smiles at him softly, a bit sadly] Never said my heart hadn't been broken, Dr Ramsey. Some people are the heartbreakers, some are the broken-hearted.

Ethan: [splutters] Preposterous.

Brooke: [looks surprised] What is?

Ethan: That you—I mean, that is—that someone— [he pauses, fidgeting with his tie before smoothing it down] It's his loss, Rookie. [clears his throat, looking away]

Brooke: [smiles, bemused yet pleased, a warmth in her eyes] Thank you, Dr Ramsey.

For Brooke (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Oh, [scoffs out a laugh] wherever he wants to be. He's Ethan freaking Ramsey. He can do whatever he wants. What's the highest position in the hospital? Chief of Medicine? That. [Thinks for a moment] Well, no, actually. He probably wouldn't want to be admin. But whatever he could do that would still have him on the ground, helping people, at the highest level of expertise - that's where he'll be.

And, uh, personally?

Oh. Well. [fidgets, looks away]. I'm sure I don't know. Probably married to some supermodel who will put up with him never being home and always being reticent and grouchy. [Laughs humourlessly]

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Oh gosh. [Pauses] Probably how much he cares. I know you see him now and you think, god, what an asshole. And you're not wrong. But the truth is, he has to maintain this facade of a huge, unfeeling jerk, because the fact of the matter is he cares so deeply. [Her expression goes distant and soft]. Honestly, he cares so much I'm worried it will be his downfall one day.

Last thing he texted you?

[Laughs] He hates texting. But I think it was, "What time is this - redacted - thing again"?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

Ah… [laughs uncomfortably] What, like, right now? The way we are? Or as two… random people in a bar?

Right now. The way you are.

[Blushes and continues to laugh awkwardly] Is he—you said he won't see these?

No, this part will be anonymous and the information gathered will be for statistical purposes, not anecdotal.

[Fake bravado affectation] Oh, well, if it's for statistics— [pauses] I would say yes. In a heartbeat. I would say yes. [Smiles, almost apologetically] I mean, have you seen him?

For Ethan (Brooke is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Wherever she wants to be. She's a highly motivated and intelligent individual. I give her a hard time, because I see great potential in her and feel as though, as her mentor, she should be pushed to achieve the pinnacle of success. Which is undoubtedly capable of.

And personal?

I don't presume to know what the future holds for my interns' personal lives. [A long pause] But I would hope… [clears throat, picks non-existent lint off his pants, continues gruffly] I would hope she remains happy and healthy, without anymore instances of [clears throat, again] heartbreak. Of any kind.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

I'm sorry?

What do you find attractive—

No, I heard you, I just find this sort of question wildly inappropriate and I refuse to answer it.

Okay, so we'll just put down 'nothing'.

Hold on, don't—I didn't say nothing. Just say I didn't answer.

We need some sort of answer.

Oh, for Christ's sake—will she see this? Will anyone?

No, it's information that will be used for statistical—

Fine, alright, I don't care. She's obviously an incredibly attractive woman. Are you happy? [Pauses] I mean, specifically? I would say her eyes. Especially when she smiles and they crinkle up on the sides. Also, her laugh. She's not a woman who 'titters'. Brooke isn't afraid to—well, to simply live. She laughs loudly, loves boldly, defends strongly. [His expression grows thoughtful,] She said I was a presence in a room? When she walks into—anywhere, the entire room stands still. It's like the air has been sucked out of it. And within seconds, they're enthralled. Within minutes, they love her. That's Brooke. [Clears throat] Don't put any of that. Just write down "Her intelligence."

Last thing she texted you?

"Be nice." And then some moving picture image of a dog wagging its finger. [Rolls his eyes] I hate texting.

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

[Sighs wearily]

Again, she won't know. It's for statistical—

[Waves hand dismissively before sighing once more] In an ideal world—[cuts himself off and tries again] Look. Any man would be lucky to have Dr. Brooke Spiers as his partner. [Pauses] And that includes me. [clears throat] But we don't live in an ideal world. And a relationship between her and I would not only be inappropriate, but it would also inhibit her potential to achieve the highest levels of success that she is capable of achieving. [Pauses] And I would never do that to her.

[Stands up abruptly] Are we done here? We're done. Rookie! [Leaves to meet Dr. Spiers, who is waiting for him outside.]

EXT. COFFEE SHOP - LATE AFTERNOON

OBSERVED FROM INSIDE THE COFFEE SHOP

The two doctors greet each other with a smile. NOTE: Dr Ramsey immediately appears calmer in the other doctor's presence.

He says something and Dr Spiers bumps him playfully with her shoulder. Dr Ramsey continues to speak, gesturing towards her ankle, and Dr Spiers throws her head back and laughs loudly.

Dr Ramsey watches her laugh with a small smile on his face, before allowing her shove him lightly in the direction that they are meant to take.

They walk side by side, chatting and smiling, until they disappear from view.

#ethan ramsey x mc #ethanbrooke facts #open heart #newlyweds game #not yet wed questions #ethan ramsey #open heart fanfic #playchoices #choices open heart #thanks for the questions!!#oh man this was too fun #taglist to follow i guess???

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

Note

i need sugawara gaslighting the shit out of the reader and supplementing it with some sort of drug. missing homework? forgetting assignments? feels like shit man

I mean… He’s a kindergarten teacher, after the time-skip. I feel like coddling his Darling, or, making it so his Darling /needed/ to be coddled would sort be in his nature. Correct me if I’m wrong, though.

Title: Missing Assignments.

TW: Implied Non-Consensual Drug Use, Slight Non-Consensual Touching, Slight Infantalization, and Demeaning Behavior.

Your hand-writing was getting worse.

It shouldn’t have been such a big deal. Everyone got a little messy from time to time, and it probably didn’t help that lately, you’ve been more prone drifting off than paying attention, zoning out or just stopping in the middle of a thought, interrupting your train of thought and turning smooth, graceful curves into jagged edges and smudged ink, the words just barely legible enough to let you see the sentence was gibberish, in its entirety. All your notes were like that, these days. Ever since the beginning of the school year, it’d been so hard to concentrate, so difficult to do anything but lay your head on your desk and go to sleep, even if your teachers were quickly growing fed-up with your impulsive naps. Normally, you might be able to make it up at home, go over your textbook and borrowed notes until you’d memorized everything you missed in class, but doing that now felt impossible when your bed was only an arm’s length away. It felt impossible when your bed wasn’t. Everything felt impossible all the time, and you were beginning to think it was.

Maybe you were the impossible one, the factor that made everything else useless.

Maybe you were the broken link.

“Everything alright, (Y/n)?”

You jerked up at the sound of someone else’s voice, forcing you out of your stupor as you tore your attention away from the paper laid out in front of you, an essay you were supposed to turn-in last week, but only managed to finish the night before. Your instructor was lenient, thankfully, silently assuming there was some quiet, shameful reason one of her best students was suddenly falling behind, but you’d just been too exhausted to think about doing it any sooner. Too drained. Too incompetent.

Biting down on the edge of your tongue, you forced yourself to face Sugawara, kind, patient Sugawara. He’d never moved, but you’d managed to forget he was there, his calm tranquility allowing him to fade into the background as the two of you sat in Karasuno’s courtyard, perched on the edge of a garden wall. You hadn’t asked, but he’d promised to help you during lunch, even if he seemed more than content to peer over your shoulder as you glared at your composition, judging but never commenting. Never critiquing, not you out loud, at least. “You know I’m not,” You mumbled, your voice so low, you could only hope he wouldn’t hear you. “It’s awful and it’s late. I’d probably be better off asking for another extension, or breaking my hands and praying someone feels bad enough to give me a passing grade.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Sugawara replied, his tone light, unaffected. Sympathetic, but not nearly as involved as someone so committed to their self-imposed role should be. “It can’t be that bad. I’ve seen the way you write, you could take that assignment out in your sleep.”

The praise was nice, and yet, the sentiment rang hollow by the time it reached your ears. Another standard to live up to, another person you knew you’d let down, another friend you’d lose because suddenly, you only had the energy to breathe and sleep and eat, occasionally. Less than you should, despite Sugawara’s efforts to keep you well-fed. “I did write it in my sleep,” You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’ve barely been able to keep my eyes open. I think I’m getting sick, or dying, or something. I’ve been getting these headaches, for the past few weeks, and I’m just so tired--” You forced yourself to stop, to cut off your rant before it could begin. You didn’t want to complain, not when Sugawara was just trying to be nice. When you continued, you did so sheepishly, attempting to shrug off your frustration with a small smile and an airy laugh. “I guess… I don’t know. At this rate, it might be less embarrassing to drop-out early.”

This was usually the part where Sugawara comforted you. He’d slapped your back, tell you to keep your chin up, and you’d nod and grin and try to do better going forward, or, you’d promise to, and he’d act like he believed you. But, rather than lift your spirits, Sugawara only draped an arm over your shoulders and pulled you into his side, encouraging you to rest your head against him. It felt too intimate, too close, but as soon as you let yourself relax, felt his warmth and allowed your mind drift away from your plummeting academics, your body grew heavy, your eyes beginning to sting as they urged you to rest. You resisted, concentrating on a flower that's fallen onto the pavement instead, only looking away when the blossom got caught under another student’s heel. He hummed, gently, as if the sound alone would be enough to soothe you. For a moment, you wished it was. “That might not be so bad.”

Instantly, you were as awake as you’d ever been, more out of shock than determination. “It might not be… what?”

“It might not be so bad.” His small smile never wavered. If anything, it only grew wider as he glanced towards you, his expression softening into something reassuring. It was the look he gave to his struggling underclassmen, the look he gave to his teammates after a particularly bad play. As his friend, you’d never gotten it. As his equal, you hadn’t, but you guess you couldn’t count yourself as one of those, anymore. “Quitting wouldn’t be the end of the world. There’s always other options, and if you really think you’re going to fail, you shouldn’t waste everyone’s time. Going through that much just to pull out at the last minute would be… depressing. Annoying, even, if you already know you’re not going to graduate.”

You hated the way he said it. So casually, as if it was a fact, something bound to happen rather than an episode of burn-out you could get over, with enough time. As if giving up, dropping out, quitting wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Not if your life was the only one you’d ruin. “I'm not sure,” You managed, just as he was getting impatient. “College was the plan, it’s still the plan. I’m not sure how I’d--”

Sugawara made an awkward, breathless sound, his free hand rising to cover his mouth, and it took you a second too long to realize he was laughing. “You really think you’re going to college? You can barely stay awake on your own, do you think you’ll be able to pass an entrance exam?”

At that, you flinched, shied into yourself just a touch more than you had to. You hated it, you were beginning to hate him for it, but… you couldn’t say you disagreed. “What else can I do?” You asked, using what little strength you had left to grit your teeth. “There aren’t a lot of options for failures, Koshi.”

Now, you knew for a fact that he was grinning, the cruel tilt of his lips biting into your temple as he pushed a hasty, fleeting kiss into your hair. You didn’t try to stop it, didn’t try to get away, and for once, you thought you might’ve been able to. You just didn’t want to try and fail when it was so clear Sugawara already thought so little of you. “I’d take care of you, naturally,” He answered, as if it was the obvious solution. “After I graduate, we’d find an apartment together, and I’d take care of everything. Money, housework, all of it. You’d never have to lift a finger.” He paused, briefly, taking just long enough to half-heartedly pluck your essay off of your lap, scanning over the text as the paper creased between his fingers. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. Not when his gaze shifted back to you, slowly, arrogantly. As if you weren’t worth the time it took to talk to you. “I mean, it’s clear you can’t handle things on your own.”

You opened your mouth, but whatever you were going to say was drowned out by the bell, startling and deafening, even so far from the main building. Your argument was bitten back as you forced yourself to focus on your bag, instead, pulling it between you and Sugawara, desperate for a drink, a snack you’d missed, something to wash the bitter taste his words had left on your tongue, but Sugawara didn’t hesitate to take you by the wrist, thrusting a bottle of water into your hand, never giving you an option to refuse. “Don’t worry, I know how forgetful you can be,” He said, barely even bothering to avoid meeting your eyes.

“You’re just lucky you’ve got someone so thoughtful looking out for you.”

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theglowyscorpio · 3 years ago

Text

all set | eren x reader

a/n: this is a story in the making, currently available at AO3 and Wattpad. If you like it, please don't hesitate to give me some kudos, leave a comment or maybe follow me on my social media! <3 Any feedback is highly appreciated since I'm just getting started!

pairing: eren yeager x female reader

tags: mature content, alternate universe (modern setting), college/university, recreational drug use, implied sexual content, M/F, F/F, the author is not religious lmao

word count: 4.3k

current chapters: 2/?

playlist: this one was made with a particular playlist in mind. they are really great songs that help to convey this chapter, so I hope you have a time to check them out! :)

a. slomosa - kevin b. upsahl - drugs c. rosenfeld - like u d. kaiba - overdose e. lil kapow - tinman f. bodega - how did this happen!?

***

all set

I lost count of how many parties I went to this week. There was one at Shina, another at... Sasha's. Wait, was it? Or Ymir's? Honestly, both their houses look fairly similar and we always see the same faces over and over again, regardless of where we are getting wasted. Definitely two at my house. The timeline is blurry at this point. If my liver could talk, it would spit out "Screw you, Eren." and I wouldn't be able to disagree.

Classes will start next week so everyone is acting like we're going to stop doing all this for the rest of the semester. That never happens.

I barely enter Reiner's house and the music is already piercing my head. My ears will soon tell me to go screw myself too. The bass was loud. But it was good.

— Hey, finally — Reiner says, giving a hard slap in my back. I can't even get mad at him because he probably didn't mean for it to hurt. Fucking strong bastard.

— Sorry. Lost track of time.

— You know where the things are — he leaves me behind and disappears through the noisy music.

It's hot inside. August has been particularly cruel this year. I'm using a black t-shirt, which is luckily pretty thin, and my black Adidas pants that are somewhat breathable. My hair is in a bun. I will probably be sweating soon, though. Reiner's AC won't do miracles with this amount of people since it is specially packed today. I guess I might see some new faces tonight, huh.

This fact already makes things more interesting.

I walk through the room and then arrive in the kitchen. Connie and Sasha are there.

— Eren!! — I barely open my mouth to talk and Sasha is already giving me whatever weird drink they made. Their drinks sometimes are... unusual, for the lack of a better word. Most of the time they are simply pure shit. They call it scout's fuel, always the same name regardless of what's inside. Maybe that's why my liver hates me so much.

— Thanks — I'm already used to the goddamn gasoline taste — I guess you both want to get us wasted tonight.

— It's our personal mission, so enjoy the fuel — Connie says laughing, raising his plastic cup. I love this duo – who doesn't? – and I can't help but laugh with them, even though it tastes so bad — Everyone is already here, come on — I follow them and find all the familiar faces I've seen all week: Bertholdt, Historia, Ymir, Mikasa, Annie, Armin, Jean, everyone.

The girls look hot, even though I'm used to them. Either way, I avoid hooking up with my friends since the last time didn't work so well. It's better to avoid Mikasa today.

We all sit together while drinking. I light a joint I had already prepared at home and say — Am I crazy or is Reiner's party bigger than usual? —, releasing the smoke a few seconds after. This one is the best grass we could get around our area, I've saved it primarily for today and now I see that might have been a great decision on my part. I'm glancing through the room and looking for some girls, might share this shit with one - or a few - of them later.

— Thank god, I was tired of seeing your ugly faces every fucking time — Jean says. The girls look at him and he rushes to add — I mean, the boys, of course. It's always nice looking at all of you, ladies.

It's not enough to avoid Annie's kick anyway — We can say the same of you, horse face.

Reiner arrives at the perfect time and explains — Since the new semester starts Monday, news about today traveled fast and we got a lot more company than usual.

— Do you know all of them, Reiner? — Historia asks — I've talked to a bunch of them tonight and there are people from all over the campus and from all years as well — Historia always looks pretty, her blonde hair shining even in the low light of the party. Guys make a line to talk to her at all parties so there's no surprise that she's already familiarized with the whole scenario. I wonder what Ymir thinks of it. Probably followed her during this little field trip.

— Hell, no — he grabs the joint of my hand and sucks deeply — I know some of them and some are Bertholdt's friends but there are some random people.

— I bet Reiner knows a lot of the girls — I take my joint back from his fingers — I assume they aren't Bertholdt's friends, though — and grin.

— Hey, I don't see you with any new company either, dude — Bertholdt tries to grab my weed as well, but I avoid his advances. He instead grabs my cup and drinks all of it, leaving me empty. He makes a funny face at the taste. Suit yourself, man, I think to myself, laughing on the inside.

— Yeah, but I'll work on it in a sec — I tease him knowing that he can't handle much of Sasha and Connie's fuel. He always knocks out before everyone. I hope he realizes he needs to stay awake to try anything with Annie. Someday. He simply never gets there.

Hange arrives almost falling over Ymir and spilling her drink on the floor in the process — I think we should all make a toast and make this last party a wild ride!!! — her yelling stabbing us louder than the music.

— Bitch, you are this fucking drunk already? — Ymir says to her, holding Hange's weight on her back — What the hell did the gasoline duo do to you?

— Okay okay, enough with the questions, let me fill your cups because this is the night! — Sasha says, just pouring all that mystery liquid that soon will go straight to our heads — Also, Reiner, where's the food?

We raise our plastic cups and Connie yells — To the new semester! — and we drink, feeling the immediate burn on our throats. It's hard being a scout.

— I need to get laid today — Jean says as he lays his back on the couch — Gonna arrive for the classes pretty motivated next week — he then rests his left arm at the back pillow, behind Mikasa's head.

— You should start roaming, then — her cold delivery puts Jean's subtle attempt at flirting six feet under the ground, as usual. It was pretty damn quick, but I could notice Mikasa glancing at me and then looking the other way. Yeah, I think I need to start roaming soon, too.

— That sounds great, then let's do that!!! — Hange grabs Jean by the arm and they disappear amongst the crowd.

— When all this fun ends, I'll be the one who will probably have to take him home after he gets slapped by some girls — Armin and Jean live with me so we normally go back together. Armin is the responsible one between us, which is not exactly hard considering how Jean and I are — Gonna at least drink some beer before that happens.

— I'll go with you, this drink sucks — Annie says, finishing the drink anyway and following him. We always drink the last drop of it, we never learn.

The girls went dancing, the music was exceptionally good today. A lot of bands I already liked plus some I have never heard before. I need to remember to ask Reiner for this playlist later. Connie was already surrounded by a different group, everyone likes to talk to him. He is popular. The rest dispersed as well and I could hear Hange's screams far away. This is going to be a night for her, indeed.

I start walking around, meeting a lot of people from my classes and others from the campus in general. I talk to all of them and drink a lot in the process, which feeds my need for nicotine every time. I grab my pack of cigarettes and while smoking, I see Levi.

— I must be dreaming — I say, letting the smoke leave my lips with a smile. It reaches him and looks at me with a deadly expression. He is smoking as well, but he only admits one specific brand of cigarettes and hates all the others. Levi usually doesn't show up at these "brat" parties, as he likes to say, since he's a few years older than us. I normally see him at Shina's, which is a popular club slash bar near our university. He's the owner so we all met him there, after going so many times. Shina has the best parties and the best drinks of all the clubs near us. And it couldn't be any other way, since Levi is a perfectionist. There's also a small stage there, where indie bands perform from time to time. My band does some gigs there sometimes.

— Hey — he replies, as cold as ever. He's Mikasa's cousin, so they have the same expressions and hard-to-approach vibe — Already high, I see.

— Always. In fact, today I hope to be higher than usual. What miracle brings you here?

— Some people from the staff decided to come here today so there are fewer brats to piss me off — he drinks what's probably a high priced whiskey and continues — and there's a new girl at the club so we have been showing her the area for a few weeks now.

— There's a lot of new girls here today — although I know Levi doesn't give a crap.

— So? — yeah, he doesn't.

Levi is a pretty successful business owner and even I have to admit that he's hot – is not only common knowledge but a mutual agreement between everyone –, so girls are always trying to get him, but he doesn't screw most of them. He doesn't fuck brats, period. He says he doesn't have the patience. That makes the girls even more desperate. He has the highest standards of every guy I know. When he was still in university – the same we all go –, he screwed not only the hottest girls but also the professors - which went after him and not the other way around. At least that's what I've heard. I think Levi never had to actively look for any girl, to be honest.

I can only laugh at his reply. That's just so him.

— If you want more stuff than what's already in your system, Floch is over there.

— I want, actually. I was going to look for him — I see Floch's red hair among some folks. Floch is usually as busy as Connie but with less than half of the charisma.

He finishes his cigarette, blowing its last white smoke into the air, and we both hear a loud HELL YEAH!! coming from all the other way across the room — Tsk, is that Hange?

— Pfft, it was before, I think it's Sasha now — he doesn't laugh at my reply. He never does. I think hell would freeze while heaven catches on fire.

I think about the music again. It's so good today, what the hell — Hey Levi, don't you think this playlist is too high quality for a Reiner party? I don't get it, his music taste is always pure trash.

— That's from our new girl — he drinks the last drops of his whiskey and starts to leave — You might find her around here — he then suddenly stops and looks at me — Don't get your hopes up, though.

I am not able to ask what he meant by that because he leaves too quickly. Time to look for Floch.

— Hey, Flo-

— Here.

— You didn't even let me finish.

— I know what you want. You are not in the mood for cocaine so you want MD instead, blah-blah-blah-blah. Is that kind of night — he pauses for mere seconds — Am I wrong, Eren?

— Nope, right as usual — Floch is the main person you go to when you need drugs. I mean, good drugs. He looks like your standard rich boy – which he is, by the way – that can do no wrong, but you can get the best stuff from him. I've always found this funny. The weed I have today was his work. He knows my taste well.

Reiner's frat house is huge, so there's plenty of room to walk. I'm approached by a bunch of girls on the way but for some reason, none of them piques my interest. I am pretty set on going after something new today and I have no problem getting laid. It happened every single day this week and it truly happens anytime I want. Which, okay, boosts my ego a little bit. Maybe a lot. I might even have hurt some girls in the process. I was never slapped though, unlike Jean. So that's a win in my book.

I see a few of my friends again, mainly Historia and Reiner, and they are talking to a girl I've never seen before.

She has long black hair and short messy bangs, the kind that goes a little above the eyebrows. I didn't know black hair was my thing until now. Her face has the perfect features, at least for me. She's wearing a sleeveless white top that is so tight that hugs her figure perfectly and makes her breasts look amazing. That type of top that shows the girl's side boob, and I'm a total sucker for those. It is also short so you can see a bit of her waist. And I don't even have to see her ass because I already know it is probably too damn good. Her light blue ripped jeans are cool as well and she has black sneakers. I like her style. She has a bunch of tattoos - a lot on her right arm, one on her left hand, and probably some that I couldn't see because they were behind her clothes. I intended to, though.

Fuck, she's hot.

Historia looks mesmerized talking to her, which is a very privileged view from where I stand because, as I've already said before, she is also beautiful. But she isn't exactly hot. This girl is. Way too much. Oh, and Reiner is there too. Whatever.

I can see a lot of guys want to approach her but none of them do. I went for it. Wasn't this night supposed to be wild?

— Hey, Eren! Guess what, Y/N is the new DJ at Shina! I was telling her how we go there all the time.

— Hi, Eren, nice to meet you — she says, with that kind of smile that people who know they are hot make. I do that too.

— Hey, Y/N — I say. And as I told you seconds before, I'm good with that type of smile as well so that's what she gets — Levi told me he came with the staff and a new girl, so I suppose that's you.

— Yeah, I'll start there next week.

— I talked to him about the party's playlist because I knew it couldn't be Reiner's.

— Yeah, it's Y/N's. She prepared it for the party when I invited the guys from Shina yesterday. We were in the same high school. — Reiner says that looking at me with a face that shows "See that, dickhead? I've known her for some years now".

— It's pretty good! I can't wait for the next party at Shina's to see your set! — Historia was always an angel.

REINER, WHERE'S THE REST OF THE ICE, MAN??, someone screamed far away.

— Shit. Catch up with you later, Y/N.

Too bad, huh, Reiner? He gives me a look that I can't quite figure out what it is, but I know for sure it wasn't a look of support. In the fucking slightest.

— I think Ymir is calling me as well, sorry!! — It was painfully obvious that Ymir wanted to make out with Historia for some time now. They never did. I think only Historia hasn't realized yet that Ymir is thirsty for her for god knows how long.

After Historia left, there was only me and her — So, by any chance, do you go to the same university as us? You look our age but Levi said you are new here — I tried asking this without looking at her body, but looking at her face was even worse. Her eyes were piercing me in the best way possible.

— I'm not exactly new, I'm from the same uni as you guys, but I took a gap year — she takes a sip of her drink — You probably never met me but I'm in the same year as you all are now.

Since Reiner knew her from high school, he also knew she was at the same university all along and never told any of the guys. Smart fucker.

— So that makes you a year older than me — I smirk at her.

— I guess it does — she smirks back as she lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke at me.

Ok, looking good so far.

I'm pretty high at this point, the MD and the music are making me horny, so I don't even bother to pretend that I'm not looking at her body. I'm looking at everything.

— You took something, didn't you?

— Do you want some? I can show you later where to get the best stuff. Anything you are in the mood for.

— I'm all set — she shows me her tongue and I see the acid. The view makes my own tongue feel lonely, maybe I should use it to steal that from her mouth. I hope she's horny as well.

We talk a lot about music since it's something that we both enjoy. She's passionate about it, I can tell. She asks about my band with true interest. Doesn't sound like small talk. She touches her hair and it makes me want to stuff my face in it. She has the smile that makes you want more. Her voice has the same effect.

The loud music allows us to talk near each other's ears. I hope she moans as loud as her playlist. The girls usually love my hair for some reason, either if it's in a messy bun as it is right now or if it's loose. They all love my green eyes too. She can see all that with somewhat detail since we are so close, even though it is a little dark here. If I take you to a room you can see me better, I almost blurb it out. I can see her too and that kills me.

She looks receptive to me but normally at this point I would be already hooking up with the girl. This time it isn't happening. I never have to work so much. I think I understand why the other guys didn't approach her before. She's a little intimidating to talk to, and that comes naturally to her – it doesn't seem to be on purpose. I flirt with her the way I normally do but she is hard to get, she hits every ball I throw. I remember what Levi said before. Oh, right.

But I'm vibing way too much at this point, I think if I touch any part of her I'll get hard immediately.

— This gap year you've mentioned... Did you go anywhere specific?

— I know it will sound cliché, but I went to Europe.

— Where in Europe?

— Everywhere — she says — I went down — the corner of her lips forming a smile — And up. Everywhere. — and I can swear she sounds flirtatious as hell. I want to bite her lip.

— That sounds... Awesome. — I think she wants to bite me too, or at least I hope she does — Was there any particular reason to leave? If that's not too much to ask.

— Hm, I was kinda... — she stops to think for a few seconds as she holds her hair up and makes a ponytail, looking at the ground, the cigarette glued to her now closed lips. Her neck became exposed, it looks soft as hell and I can't wait to bruise it. She releases the smoke, that flows into the room, and looks deep into my eyes, as deep as I want to be inside her right now — ...stressed.

I reach my limit at this point.

— I can help you with the stress if you want.

— Really? — she's looking at me with the same teasing look and I'm doing the same, so we both know that's not a question I have to answer. Her tongue quickly passes through her top lip, her mouth forming a little wet smile — I don't think I need any help though.

I threw the ball and she hit a home run. My team was out.

I was not expecting that.

We hear some of the guys from Shina calling for her — Oh, they are calling me — Y/N looks at me again and says — See you around, Eren — giving me the same fucking grin I wanted to bite before.

She walks away and I see that her ass is, as I suspected from the very beginning, too damn good.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

After this, some time has passed. I look at the clock. Yeah, maybe a lot. I couldn't tell before because I'm drunk and drugged. I see most of my friends, all fucking wasted. Armin is holding up pretty well, Bertholdt's is knocked down for God knows how long, Mikasa probably smoked way too much weed (who am I to judge?) and looks dead on the couch. I don't see Ymir, Historia nor Reiner - there are too many people in this house to keep count. Sasha's eating something in the kitchen, I can't see what it is, but certainly, she got hungrier than normal after smoking some pot Connie gave her. Connie always holds his drinks well, he's still talking to a lot of people. I pass in front of one of the bathrooms and Hange is there, getting everything out of her system. Oh, and Ymir. There she is, holding Hange's hair, looking as pissed as ever. Levi probably went home hours ago. Jean is making out with some chick, he's going to score tonight. To be fair, he always does, but never with Mikasa.

I saw a lot of pretty girls today and I went for none of them. They tried and I shut them down, even the ones I normally fuck. There's someone I want to taste tonight and she's nowhere to be found. The guys from Shina are missing too, so I know I won't see her today anymore. Damn.

I'm not pissed at her but I'm pissed at the situation.

— Armin, I think I'm going to take off, are you coming?

— Yeah, I'm already pretty tired — he gets up — Jean's probably going to stay here.

— Yep. Probably. — Am I pissed that Jean's getting laid? Even though I could have as well? With someone else, at least? My mood feels off.

— I'm going with you too, I've lost count of how many assholes I had to shut down today. I think I even punched a few — I don't have to look to know that's Annie speaking — You were right, Eren, is it especially crowded today. In the shittiest way possible.

— Then let's go.

— Wait, I need to get my bag first, I left it in Reiner's room.

— I can get that for you, wait up.

— It's a black one. Small.

I sign a thumbs up for her and climb the stairs. I am hundred percent sure I'm going to see someone fucking there but that's the usual. I'm pretty sure I've already seen some people screwing in the corner of the living room minutes before. No one cares.

I open the door and see Y/N in her underwear, putting her white top back on. She does indeed have other tattoos.

— Hey there! — she says smiling, as she also puts her jeans back up, making little jumps so they pass through her ass. Her hair is not in a ponytail anymore.

I say hi in a confusing way.

— I came here to get my friend's bag — I look around for milliseconds like I don't know where the hell I am until I see Reiner lying - clearly naked - under his sheets. Can't be anyone else, with that bleached hair and huge biceps.

What? Ahn?

Hey... Wait a second.

Historia? Clearly naked as well? What. The. Hell. I guess she's not exactly the angel I thought she was?

They are sort of awake, sort of sleeping, kinda like on a different planet. You know, the type of thing that happens after a really strong fuck? That sort. They look exhausted. They look destroyed. And not in a bad way. AT ALL.

— Oh, I saw a bag before. Here you go — she gives me Annie's bag. She's all dressed now. She notices my confusion, I'm too high to act any other way — I've told you I don't need any help — her eyes piercing mine for the hundredth time tonight. Her smile hurts now. Ouch.

She grabs her sneakers and walks towards me and the door:

— I'm all set.

She leaves the room as I hold Annie's bag.

Yeah. I was not expecting that.

***

Thanks for reading (if there's even anyone here lmao). Chapter 2 will be uploaded later but it can be read now at AO3 or Wattpad.

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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

Text

ab intra | 2 | de minimis

pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi / Reader

length: 18,811 words / 6 chapters

summary: When a wave of disturbing crimes sweep the city, underground hero Hitoshi Shinsou is assigned to work the case with you. What’s even more frustrating than his obnoxious personality is the fact no one will tell you why he’s involved. Things only get more suspicious from there.

tags: romance, thriller, misunderstandings, pro hero AU, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, suicide mentions, brainwashing, consensual mind control, some violence

You’d thought you’d have time the next morning to mentally brace for seeing Shinsou again. You were wrong.

At four thirty in the morning, the shrill tone of your work phone cut through the dark of your room. You shot up out of your bed, grasping blindly for your nightstand.

“They struck again,” your captain’s gravelly voice carried over the line. He rattled off the name and address of a casino in the heart of downtown, demanding you get there immediately, then hung up on you. You groaned and rolled off your mattress, dressing blindly in the dark. You threw your hair into a messy approximation of a ponytail, then ran out the door.

You managed to get to the station just in time to catch a subway headed into downtown and spent the entire ride anxiously tapping your foot, wondering how many people had been hurt this time.

At downtown, it was immediately clear something horrible had happened. Just outside the station, ambulance and police lights flashed in the pre-dawn dark, and a tangled knot of nearly a hundred people choked the sidewalk. They overflowed onto the main road, which had been blocked off with neon cones, a sleepy-looking officer waving traffic around into the opposite lane.

You trotted up to the police tape, spotting several patrol cops huddled in a group with Aya and another team member. A head of untidy indigo hair towered over the bunch. You suppressed a groan and picked your way over.

“What happened?” you asked.

One of the patrol officers detailed an eerily familiar situation for you; three people who had killed themselves, tables and tills emptied, security footage missing, and close to thirty minutes erased from almost fifty minds. Your stomach churned as a splint was carried out of the casino’s main entrance, a thick layer of dark fabric over a still form.

You caught a hard look passing over Shinsou’s face as he watched the paramedics pile the splint into the back of an ambulance. He was dressed in the same uniform you’d seen him in yesterday, scarf and that strange mask hanging from his throat. You wondered for just a brief moment what they had in common, and what kind of quirk they supported. Then he looked at you, raising a dark eyebrow, and the moment was gone.

“Who were the witnesses whose memories were tampered with?” you asked, turning back to the officer. The officer directed you over to a throng of people standing just over to the side, some of them still being looked over by a set of EMTs.

You broke off from the group, pacing over to where the witnesses huddled. The heat of a tall body at your back told you Shinsou was following you closely.

“If you have some kind of time rewind quirk, now would be a good time to tell me,” you said, turning to him, trying to tamp down on your frustration. Showing up at a still-warm crime scene like this was always upsetting, and it was hard to reign your emotions in. “Or something useful in catching a criminal like this.”

Shinsou’s purple eyes flickered over you. “Afraid not, kitten. And don’t think you’re getting anything out of me.”

You sighed. Hundreds of quirks at their disposal and the Public Safety Commission had sent you some jerk who, as far as you could tell, either had a quirk to do with scarves or a quirk to do with being incredibly annoying. You wished, not for the first time, for a quirk of your own. You’d never needed anything more than your brain and your handgun to straighten out a case before, but you wouldn’t say no to something that would help you solve this one and make Shinsou disappear.

You stepped up to the huddled group of witnesses, asking for those who had yet to give their statements. The first people to volunteer themselves were a pair of college girls, clearly barely over the drinking age, dressed in slinky, sequined dresses with slight variation in the cut and colors. It was clear they had planned a fun night on the town that had ended very, very badly.

You opened up a recording app on your phone, and introduced yourself and Shinsou. Then you launched into the standard line of question, Shinsou a tall, silent warmth at your back.

“Can you recount for me what happened?” you asked the girls.

One of them shook her dyed blond locks. “No, not really. One minute we were at the bar, ordering more shots because we had just lost really badly at roulette, and the next I was on the floor and Eriko was all the way across the room, huddled in a corner,” she gestured to her friend.

“What was in between for you? Did you register time passing at all and just didn’t know what happened?”

She shook her head. “No. It was like….” she thought for a moment, “....like when you’re really drunk and you get black out. Like stuff maybe happened but when you wake up the next morning, there’s like a black hole in your brain and you can’t tell if there was time in between or not.”

Her friend Eriko nodded. “Literally just like that. It feels the same way. The last thing I remember was feeling really weird, like my vision went all crazy? And then I woke up on the other side of the bar.”

Shinsou made a noise low in his throat and leaned over your shoulder. He was close, close enough that you could feel his chest brush your back and catch the soft scent of something light, like citrus. “Something happened to your vision?” he asked.

Eriko looked up at him, and you spied something like a blush spreading across her nose. “Y-yeah. Like I don’t know if it was because we were already kind of drunk or whatever. But I lost focus for a second, and stuff got kind of hazy?”

You looked up into Shinsou’s face, interested in why he’d seized on this detail. He stared cooly back at you, his purple eyes dark in the pre-dawn gloom. He offered no explanation, instead turning to look at the blonde girl.

“Did something happen to your vision too?” he asked.

Her delicate brow furrowed. “I’m...not sure. It’s hard to think back to right before...”

Shinsou leaned in. “Remember for me,” he said.

Your own brow creased at the strange, indelicate nature of the phrasing. He sounded almost like he was ordering her, and your temper flared. It wasn’t protocol to shape queries into demands, especially given the often fragile state of victims, and you made a mental note to ream him out for it later.

The girl didn’t seem to mind him, though, eyes fogging with the memory. “I...yes. All I remember before the black out was feeling like the room had gotten wobbly. Hazy is a good way to describe it.”

Shinsou nodded, seeming satisfied. “Thanks.”

Now this was an interesting detail. Nowhere in the mountain of paperwork you’d been able to collect from the investigators dispatched to the first two locations had you spotted any information like this.

“We should ask the others if this was the case for them as well. Could be the alcohol, but it’s worth finding out more,” you said begrudgingly.

It seemed maybe Shinsou knew his way around the finer details of mental quirks, then. You wondered if the Commission had sent him not because of his own quirk, whatever it was that the fucking scarf had to do with it, but because he had experience dealing with similar villains? That could be useful, more useful than you had thought he might be.

Still, his bedside manner was going to need some work.

You asked the girls a couple of follow up questions and took down their contact information, then moved on to another witness. You were surprised to find that this witness too, and a fair few others after, claimed the same effect on their vision, when probed on the finer details.

The most difficult part of the questioning by far was having to interview the friends of the people who’d killed themselves. You almost wanted to delay speaking to them until the end, but it would be cruel to make them wait any longer when so much had happened. One man had been with two of the women who had taken their own lives, and he was hardly able to choke out any information between sobs. You’d gone to fetch him a foil shock blanket, and after that he was a little better, just coherent enough to run you through the victims’ actions prior to their death.

“I just can’t believe someone could make them do this,” he said shakily. “They were both just so tough, so strong. They just had it together, you know? I don’t understand what kind of a quirk could make someone kill themselves. Why someone would even want to...?”

This train of thought seemed to set him off again, igniting a series of small, hiccuping sobs, and you tried to reroute him. Shinsou shifted uncomfortably at your shoulder.

“Can you tell me about what happened to you, just before your memory blanks out?” you asked gently.

The man took a breath. “I saw Yuki, one of my friends. One of the ones who….well. She was looking at something across the room and it looked like she was gonna pass out for a second. Then it was like she snapped out of it, and she started to yell something. That’s where it ends for me…”

Shinsou’s keen eyes flickered over the man. “Did you see what she was looking at?”

The man shook his head. “I turned to look but I don’t know. I remember moving my head but that’s it.”

You nodded and jotted down a couple notes. Shinsou asked him a couple more questions in his low tone, seeming very intent on the man’s movements, the movements and minute reactions of his friends. He dug fairly deep on any strange feelings or impressions the man had, even on things earlier in the evening, and he--weirdly--asked a lot specific questions on how the man had been feeling just before it all happened--had he had any weird shifts in thought pattern? Had he been feeling a little anxious or uncomfortable, like he’d forgotten something?

After that, it took you a fair few hours to cycle through all the rest of the people who had been at the scene, but by the end of it you’d collected a lot of interesting new information. Shinsou made a few other brusque demands, which annoyed you, but overall it didn’t seem to affect the witnesses much, who still compliantly answered to his requests.

The sun was well up in the sky by the time you finished, and you were almost too exhausted without your usual coffee in hand to start an argument with Shinsou.

You did anyway.

“Okay, you can’t just order witnesses around,” you hissed when you’d wrapped up with the last person and started towards the precinct. “You need to treat them with delicacy or it could mess with the veracity of the information they give us. If you’re going to be working my case, you’re going to follow procedure.”

Shinsou smirked down at you, lifting a corded arm to tousle his hair in unconcern. “You don’t call the shots, kitten.”

You glared up at him. With the morning sun washing over the planes of his face and catching in the violet of his eyes, he looked even prettier than yesterday, and you could easily understand why the blonde girl had blushed at being addressed by him. The thought irritated you further.

“You might think that you have all the power right now,” you intoned, “but make no mistake. I am the professional here, and you are a contractor on loan. You will listen to me.”

This seemed to amuse him.

“You’re quite accustomed to being the one in charge, aren’t you?” he asked, a peculiar little smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

You suppressed an eye roll. There was a reason a case of this complexity had been assigned to you, why all your reports were so neatly handled. You were good at leading things, particularly investigations, so the question hardly needed posing.

“Yes, and you would do well to remember that,” you said.

A strange feeling washed over you suddenly, a small tension at the back of your mind just before a feeling of vertigo hit you. You stumbled a little, almost tripping, and Shinsou curled an arm around you, catching you easily like this was something you did all the time, something that he was expecting.

“Your concern for me is adorable, kitten,” he said. His arm tightened around you for just a moment, pressing you into him. You had just long enough to note how warm he was, his lean body unexpectedly hard with dense muscle, and catch a hint of that light scent again. And then he was moving, stepping away to pace ahead of you. “I think you will find, however, that I am even more accustomed to control.”

You stared after him, mood darkening like the sky before a storm. You didn’t know what kind of backing he thought he had from the Public Safety Commission that gave him such smug self-assurance, but he was in for a rude fucking awakening.

A plan began to form in the back of your mind as you trailed after him, stepping back into the precinct offices. Though clearly not well known, Shinsou was a hero, which meant that some ranking and information must be out there about him. He might not want to tell you anything himself, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t a wealth of dirt for you to find on him, details for you to track down to finally, finally get some measure of a handle on him.

He might think he was in charge, might think he was holding all the cards right now.

But if you were good at one thing, it was investigating.

#shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou x reader #bnha #fanfic #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #tw: suicide mention #shinsou hitoshi

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itsamejin · 5 years ago

Text

trash || taehyung fluff/angst

Part 2

Summary: Taehyung and you are friends with benefits, but you’re having a hard time maintaining this secret relationship when a close friend of yours starts falling in love with him.

Warning: Suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol and casual sex, cursing and crude language/humor

Genre: Fluff, Angst, fwb!au, college!au

Word Count: 6,589 Words

—

Taehyung and you were never one for relationships. You knew it, he knew it, the long list of lovers you two had could attest to that fact the most. You two were notorious for the number of people you slept with, not that it was any of their business anyway.

It wasn’t like you intended to be with him. In fact, your initial impression of him was that of annoyance. Taehyung would flirt with you shamelessly during parties and often referred to you as his “rival”. With the nonstop back and forth between you two, your mutual friends were easily agitated with how you played hard to get. They had to admit, though, it was hilarious seeing Taehyung insist on taking you out on a date, only for you to insist that he should rot in hell.

This went on for a whole year, so it only made sense when the second year of university came around and you had decided to cave in to his boyish charms. It was meant to just be a bit of fun with nothing tying you down to each other. You’d have sex at his place, and his place only, and never speak of it to anyone on campus.

No one knew of your escapades and frankly, it was easier that way. Your friends were sure you hated him and his friends were sure he’d never have a chance. It was the perfect arrangement. They didn’t have to know about the late nights of sneaking into his dorm room, the times he helped you escape from the campus guards at the crack of dawn, or even hiding you in his closet when his friends came over for a surprise visit.

As far as you were concerned, this relationship would stay a secret.

—

You didn’t need to be Einstein to know that Taehyung was hooking up with another girl just as consistently as he was fucking you. It wasn’t a shocking fact, but you had your regulars besides Taehyung too. It was just the way he described her that surprised you.

“She’s like the total package y’know?” he said after a particular night of companionship which led you tangled up in his arms on his couch, naked and panting. “Sucks she has to waste it all on me, but she’s a nice girl. Might have to end it quickly before I catch feelings.”

Taehyung caught feelings way more often than you did. It was easy for him to get attached to girls, unlike you. Most of the men you slept with were ready to leave by the next day so liking someone you hooked up with was rare. Taehyung must’ve really taken a liking to this girl with the way he was stroking your hair, as if in deep thought over his own words.

You’ve never met her, but you knew she had to be pretty. Every girl Taehyung had his eyes set on was beautiful, yet you knew he played favorites. After almost every night you spent at his place, he’d reveal that you were his favorite girl, and while you didn’t really take that as a compliment, you’d always reply that he was your favorite too. The two of you sprawled out on his couch sipping the whiskey you poured before he fucked you, it was almost like trash acknowledging trash.

“But I don't think anyone could replace you,” he muttered into your hair, taking one long gulp of his drink.

You shook your head.

“I can name four other guys that I could hit up instead of you,” you teased, not really believing your own words.

Taehyung looked at you seriously and set his glass down. You did too.

“You sure about that?” he asked lowly, caressing your bare calf with his fingertips. You giggled at the sensation.

“I don’t know,” you said playfully. “Why don’t you show me why you’re my favorite, Tae?”

He gave a small scoff and practically pounced on you, pushing you down onto the couch without a moment of hesitation.

—

Now him fucking another person wouldn’t have normally been a problem since Taehyung’s women came and went like the wind most of the time. There were instances where he’d claim that he found “the one” and then text you just minutes later asking for you to come over. The thing was, though, the girl he was messing around with- who he talked so highly about- just happened to be your roommate, Hana. Cute and innocent Hana who would never hurt a fly.

Taehyung didn’t know this fact since you’ve never invited him over, but it was a downright horrifying experience when you had caught him making out with her on Hana’s bed. You had made things worse unknowingly, by also bringing over a boy from the club you were partying at earlier.

“What the fuck am I looking at right now?” you shuddered, attempting to cover your eyes from their frazzled state. You did not want your image of Hana to be tainted by someone like Taehyung.

“Oh my gosh, I thought you were sleeping over someone else’s!” Hana screeched, covering Taehyung’s body with her blanket. Of course, he had to be shirtless.

“I thought you were visiting family!” you shouted frantically.

The tension in that room was suffocating and you couldn’t shake the fact that Taehyung was the one who made it more awkward. He had pulled away from Hana pretty quickly, but he glared so viciously at the boy you were holding hands with just earlier. His death stare was evident to everyone in the room.

“Yeah, I think I should go,” your date said, not quite remembering his name. Whoever he was left hastily and you were left to stare at two deer in headlights.

“[Y/N], this is Taehyung,” Hana said, flustered. “I think you guys already know each other, though.”

You tried to suppress your laughter at the way Taehyung’s face changed so easily when the guy you were trying to hook up with had left. Now he just wore a smug look on his face. You didn’t really know where that came from, though.

“Yeah, but we’re not in really good terms,” you lied, trying to hide your own embarrassment. "In fact, I’m sick to the stomach just looking at him.”

Taehyung grinned, knowing that you were just trying to not come off suspicious.

“Well maybe another time, huh Han Han?” he said, nuzzling into her neck but keeping his eyes on you. You rolled your eyes at the nickname and his obvious glances. Taehyung never stopped being a dick, even in these situations.

Hana only nodded and stood up, helping Taehyung put on his shirt and jacket. He also had to... zip his pants back up. Taehyung had winked to you on his way out, which went noticed by Hana who glared at him slightly. She softened the glare when she saw that you had no reaction to his lame attempts to flirt. You were far too used to Taehyung’s stupidity to really be fazed.

“Nice to see you too [Y/N],” he said huskily before exiting the dorm. He for sure was going to get caught by the campus guards downstairs and you’d look forward to hearing him complain about it the next time you see him. You laughed as soon as he left, wiping a stray tear from your eye. Taehyung had really dug himself into deep shit this time.

“Taehyung? Really, Hana? When you can do so much better?” you cackled. “I am so disappointed in you.”

It was true after all. Hana was the typical good girl type and came to college with the sole intent of studying and getting her diploma as quickly as possible. You admired her for that. She was a motivated student with clear goals in her life, while you were more of the “enjoy life in the moment” type.

It definitely came as a shock that Hana was able to fall for Taehyung like so many other girls had; it was obvious in the way she blushed. You cooed at how cutely she was reacting. You’ve never seen her so flustered like this with anyone else. It kind of made your heart clench, though, and not it a good way.

“[Y/N]~~,” she whined, pouting lightly. “I’m so stupid. He asked me for my chem notes and instead I gave him my first kiss. I’m such an idiot.”

You laughed even louder, falling to the floor. Classic Taehyung move, he never changes. You could list ten other girls he used the same tactics with.

“Hana, it’s okay I’m not judging you,” you said, grabbing a nearby chair to bring yourself back up once again after a few more giggles escaped your lips. “Actually I am, but don’t worry too much about what I think.”

You patted her head as you walked past her, collapsing onto your bed. You were extremely drunk before you came into the room and you needed that laughing session to finally start sobering up. The guy you were about to bring in wasn’t even that cute anyway, you sighed.

“You know walking into that mess actually kind of saved me,” you said, languidly. “The guy I was about to fuck didn’t have a big dick.”

Hana gasped at your word choice and slapped your thigh.

“[Y/N], you’re so crude!”

You smirked at her innocence. It wasn’t like you’d actually seen it, you just felt it earlier in the club while you were dancing. Nothing to write home about.

“You were literally sucking faces with the Kim Taehyung just seconds ago,” you yawned. “I will not accept any form of criticism from you.”

She chuckled lightly and played with her fingers. Sure, maybe you were being a hypocrite for teasing her especially when you and Taehyung were fuck buddies, but you already knew your standards were low. It was almost expected of you to get together with him eventually.

You never thought Hana would be into a guy like Taehyung, but then again, it was the classic bad boy and good girl story. Some part of you was envious, but you couldn’t help but want to cheer her on. They felt like the main characters of some romantic drama you’d binge-watch, only to be pissed off when the second leads (who were much hotter) would be forgotten in the script. You shook your head in disappointment. Hana deserved so much better than Taehyung.

“You know he’s fucking other girls right?” you said, sitting up and looking at her seriously. “He’s a bad person, Hana.”

She pouted but nodded slowly. Something tells you that she doesn’t mind.

“Yeah, I know,” she said sadly. “It seems like all my friends have been with him at least once, but I can’t help but feel like I’m special? I don’t know. Sometimes he doesn’t even ask for homework when we meet up... We just talk, y’know? He’s so good with his words, [Y/N]...”

Hana took a seat next to you and winced at the smell of alcohol that radiated off of you. You couldn’t help but feel bad for Hana. She was falling for the oldest tricks in the book because she was so naive. You didn’t want to have to see her get hurt by a guy that was passing college from copying other people’s homework.

“Hana, I’m gonna tell you this in the nicest way possible,” you said, facing her but making sure your nasty breath didn’t make its way towards her. “No girl is special to Taehyung. He does things like that to get in your head and make you want more. He’ll throw you away when he gets what he wants from you.”

“But-”

She tried to speak yet you cut her off. You didn’t really know what motivated you to speak so badly of Taehyung, but you did so anyways.

“He’s exactly like me, Hana,” you continued on. “We’re both fucked in the head when it comes to romance, love, and all that shit. And do you remember how I described myself when we first met?”

Hana sighed, obviously not wanting to repeat the derogatory words you’d said about yourself so long ago.

“Trash,” she muttered silently, looking at the floor. She felt guilty just for saying it.

You smiled and ruffled her hair. She only furrowed her eyebrows in response.

“Just be careful, okay?”

“It’s just Taehyung,” Hana chuckled. “How much damage could he do?”

—

Hana didn’t seem like she wanted to take your advice because you caught Taehyung and her everywhere on campus almost everyday. You saw her tutoring him in the library, walking to class with each other, and even sharing an ice cream cone! Just how badly did Taehyung need to pass Bio-Chemistry this quarter?

You felt mean thinking such things but you couldn’t help but be doubtful of Taehyung, especially when he was still meeting up with you every weekend in his dorm. You’d have thought they were dating if you didn’t know any better, but there you were, in his bed naked for the second time that week. Sometimes you wondered what was going on in that stupid, beautiful head of his.

“Are you sure you should still be seeing me?” you asked him, head buried in his chest. You could hear his heartbeat so clearly on nights like this.

“You caught feelings or what?” he teased, taking a stray eyelash out of your cheek. “That would be a big problem wouldn’t it, [Y/N]?”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to face the wall.

“I’d be caught dead before that happens,” you whispered, snuggling into his arm underneath your head. Taehyung traced circles on your waist, mesmerized on how wonderful your skin felt against his.

“Why should we stop?” he asked, tilting your head towards him to meet his eyes.

“Hana,” you replied back curtly. There was no malice in your voice. You just stated her name as if it was a fact. Taehyung only sighed in response.

“Means nothing,” he muttered, nuzzling into your hair. “You’re still my favorite.”

You clicked your tongue at his harsh words, but you couldn’t help but feel relieved. Maybe there was a chance that you two could still have this... relationship without adding any more complications. Deep down, you were proud that he still considered you his favorite, even if it might not have meant anything to him.

“Just go to sleep, jackass,” you whispered, dozing off at the sound of his steady breathing. You felt safe in his arms.

Taehyung wanted, so desperately, for you to notice that he had said that while sober. It was meant to be a confession, no matter how vague it might have been.

Before he could talk any further, though, you were already sleeping soundly against him. He’d have to save it for another day, Taehyung thought. He leaned down and kissed your eyelid, which fluttered a bit at the contact. Taehyung chuckled.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he whispered, wishing you could hear him.

—

You entered the campus restroom, fully intent on just touching up your makeup, but a cramping sensation in your gut had you rushing into one of the stalls to relieve yourself of the pain.

As you were about to flush, you heard the clacking of stilettos outside of the stall and you could recognize that noise from anywhere. They were girls in your marketing class, the ones who were in the brink of failing but managed to seduce the TA last minute to get passing marks. You respected them, honestly. If only they didn’t hate your guts.

“I heard [Y/N] and Tae are seeing each other,” the girl with red heels said. You winced at the nickname she gave him. She got dumped by Taehyung a year ago and couldn’t keep her nose out of his business since then.

“No fucking way,” the black heels responded, clearly applying lipstick as her words were somewhat distorted. “That’s like an STD waiting to happen.”

The two of them had started to cackle and you had to admit, that was a pretty good joke. How they found out was unknown to you. Taehyung must have let it slip or something. You’d make sure to give a talking to him later about it.

“No, but get this,” red heels started, “You know that small girl, Hana?”

Black heels girl nodded, you recognized the motion through the sound of her dangling earrings.

“Taehyung managed to get in her pants too and they’re like, kinda serious. Like, about to date serious.”

Black heels gasped over-dramatically and dropped her lipstick into the sink. She picked it up but was still very much shocked.

“But isn’t [Y/N] and her like, super close?” she asked. “Does Hana even know?”

The girl with red stilettos clicked her tongue thrice as if disapproving what her friend was saying.

“You know [Y/N],” she said with a sigh. “You think she cares?”

Her words stung more than you thought. Did people really think of you that lowly? Did they really think you’d betray your friend like that?

But then again, weren’t you betraying Hana? She liked Taehyung so much and here you were, banging him every weekend with very little consideration towards her feelings. You clenched your thigh with your fingers until you were sure it would leave a bruise. Should you have told her that Taehyung and you were fucking behind her back?

“Well, it’s none of my business anyway,” red shoes continued. “Those two will get what’s coming to them.”

Even as the two left the restroom, you contemplated on their words further, wondering if they were right about you. Somehow your heart felt heavy at the thought of it all. Were you a bad person?

—

You couldn’t shake off the guilt that tugged at your heartstrings every time you saw Hana get ready for a date with Taehyung. You wanted to seem interested everytime she asked for your opinion on her clothes, but you just couldn’t get those words out of your mind. Would those girls tell Hana if they got the chance?

The emotional torment hit the hardest when you sat on Taehyung’s floor, him playing with your fingers as you rested your head on his shoulder. You had both ventured off to the weird parts of Youtube, watching couples explain why they broke up with each other on his phone. It left a sour taste in your mouth.

“Could you imagine being that hungry for attention that you’d broadcast something like this to millions of people?” he chuckled. “Like just break up behind the scenes, no one cares enough about your love life to want a 40-minute video on it.”

You weren’t really paying attention to what he was saying, but was more focused on the several notifications that popped up on the screen from all of Taehyung’s other hookups. You recognized their names easily. Yumi, Jiseo, Sarang, etc. Even your phone didn’t quite blow up with messages like him.

“I feel bad for people in relationships,” you replied eventually. “Like why would you willingly put yourself through that torture?”

You expected him to laugh like usual, but he stiffened.

“Is being in a relationship that repulsive to you?” he asked genuinely.

You nodded in response.

“Fuck relationships,” you said curtly, watching the girl on the screen start breaking down into tears. Taehyung only shrugged.

“I don’t know. I’d like to be in a long-term relationship eventually, even if it hurts in the end.”

You nodded in understanding, but you didn’t quite have the same philosophy.

“Monogamy is weird to me,” you said half-joking. “Maybe when I’m 60 and the possibility of having kids is out of the question.”

Taehyung laughed this time, dropping his phone on his lap on accident. He turned towards you and kissed the top of your head.

“Well, you’d still be hot by then,” he teased. You punched him lightly on the thigh.

You two sat there, enjoying each other’s company silently when another notification rang from his phone. He picked it up, and to your surprise, he answered almost immediately. Taehyung shut his phone off, but before he did, you caught sight of the Caller ID.

Hana.

You wanted to ask what she sent him, but you didn’t feel like it was your place. Instead, you looked up into his eyes and kissed him deeply. You didn’t know what led you to kiss him, if it was the jealousy or your insecurities, but you couldn’t bother to pinpoint the reason as his hand traveled underneath your shirt. He gently grasped your waist and laid you down softly. There was a bed right next to you two, yet you chose to stay on the floor. As his hand traveled lower and lower, you couldn’t help but get lost in the enigma that was Kim Taehyung.

—

You rolled around your bed, trying to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in, but nothing felt right. Hana was at her desk, doing God knows what at 2 a.m. in the morning, and kept the lights on.

“Can you turn off the lights, Hana?” you whined lethargically. “I can’t sleep.”

Hana nodded back in response, but you couldn’t see her.

“Yeah, let me just finish this up.”

You sighed and attempted to cover your head with a pillow. You just wanted to dream for goodness sake. You heard her smack something on the desk and she stood up rapidly. You sat up to see what was going on and was met with Hana’s elated expression.

“It’s done!”

She held up her little project to you and you squinted to get a better look. It was a small poster-board with big red lettering. It said, “Kim Taehyung, will you be my boyfriend?”

You wanted to cringe at the sight of the bright words. It felt very high school but it was very Hana of her. Your guilty conscience ate you up once again at the sight of her sparkling face. You didn’t have the heart to tell her your real thoughts.

“I know you probably think this is childish,” she muttered, blushing. “But Tae said he never got asked out with a poster back in high school so I thought it was a cute idea! I should stand out from the other girls with this, right?”

The way she asked so innocently made you want to cry right then. She had looked so excited, so full of life and love to give Taehyung something that seemed meaningless to you. She even called him ‘Tae’ in that soft voice of hers. You used to go on and on about how Taehyung didn’t deserve Hana, but you were starting to think you were the one that didn’t deserve him. You’d never even think to have come up with something like that or anything romantic for that matter.

“Is it too cheesy?” Hana asked shyly, looking for some comforting words. She was starting to feel nervous with how silent you were being.

You could only give her a brief smile and a nod. It was her first relationship after all, there was no need to discourage her.

“It’s the right amount of cheesy for a guy like Taehyung,” you replied halfheartedly, which went undetected by Hana.

She looked relieved as she set it back down on her table.

“Thank God. I just hope he says yes,” she said, finally closing the lights.

More than ever, you felt awake. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but your heart rate did not slow down at all. It felt like you needed to take a sprint outside to get this feeling of apprehension out of your system. Your palms clammed up and your throat felt constricted.

You couldn’t do this to her anymore, you couldn’t watch a girl so clearly in love with Taehyung be brushed aside for someone like you, whose feelings weren’t even clear to begin with. You heaved out a deep sigh as you collapsed your head back on to the pillow. Desperately, you were searching for a way out of the situation you dug yourself in.

You’ve definitely regretted sleeping with some men in the past, you just didn’t think Taehyung would be one of them.

—

It should’ve been way easier breaking things off with him, but Taehyung purposely made it difficult. Each time you’d bring up Hana’s name in conversation, he’d shut your mouth with his lips. He started to initiate sex more frequently and it felt like he wasn’t even trying to hide you as a lover from his friends anymore. You had confronted him about red heels girl knowing about your secret relationship and only shrugged in response.

“She asked me why I haven’t been texting her so I just told her I was always with you,” he replied back nonchalantly. Needless to say, you did not sleep with him that night.

Nothing seemed like it was going according to plan and your feelings only got more confusing as the days passed. Taehyung had started buying you meals whenever you came over and even set a blurry photo of you as his lock-screen. What was up with him really?

Hana had still yet to confess her feelings, so you were glad that you had some time until you could cleanly cut yourself out of Taehyung’s life.

Today would be the day, you insisted, but the way he stared down at your lying figure, biting his lip, your mind went blank from any thoughts. You couldn’t even form coherent words as he buries his face onto your chest; he was just too good at this for your own sanity.

“C’mon you can’t be done already, huh?” Taehyung softly whispered into your ear, playing with the ends of your hair as you recollected yourself from another round. You groaned.

“Tae really. We need to talk,” you tried to sound serious and ultimately failing as he planted soft kisses on your neck and collarbone.

“What’s up with that?” he teased. “You sound like a concerned girlfriend.”

You rolled your eyes at him. He always made weird jokes like that. He’d say questioning shit like ‘girlfriend’, ‘wife’, and ‘honey’ so often that you had tuned it out after a while. The words somewhat held more meaning now, though, since you were planning to end your friends with benefits relationship that day.

“Well, actually I am concerned about something,” you said, pushing him off of your body to lay next to you instead. You sat up straight. He propped his head under his hand and looked up at you intently. You swore you saw stars in his eyes. God, how did he manage to still look so irresistible?

“What’s up with you and Hana?” you asked, directly making eye contact with him. His face had turned sour quite quickly but then changed to that of satisfaction. He adjusted his position a bit so that he was closer to you.

“Why? You jealous?”

You scoffed.

“No, dumbass,” you said, punching his shoulder lightly. “I’m worried about her. Not you. You’re like, her first love.”

He left out a soft sigh and rubbed one of his eyebrows with the back of his palm. Taehyung always did that when he was put under stressful situations.

“Okay and?”

You rolled your eyes. Truly, he was trash.

“Do you not remember your first love, jackass?” you said, searching for your bra at the side of his bed while still maintaining eye contact. “She deserves way more than what you’re giving her right now.”

Taehyung shook his head and pulled you towards him, stopping your search for your underwear. Your back was against his chest and his lips directly on your neck. You felt his breathing on the enclave of your shoulder.

“So who’s the unlucky girl that deserves me then?” he whispered onto your skin.

You shuttered, feeling slightly ticklish. You couldn’t believe he was flirting with you even in a situation like this. If it was any other night, you’d have swooned and let him take you once again, but it was nearing 4 a.m. and the guilt was engraved deeply in the back of your mind. You did the one thing that could separate him from you momentarily and elbowed his stomach, sitting up again.

“It’s not me either, dick,” you chuckled at the way he clenched his core in pain. “If you want to keep seeing her, I need to cut ties with you. I might have done some messed up shit behind people’s backs in the past, but she’s a good friend. I can’t keep hurting Hana like this without her even knowing it.”

Well, it was easier getting those words out of your mouth than expected.

You didn’t bother to look at Taehyung’s face as you stood up from the bed, finally finding your bra on the other side of the room. You’d definitely miss Taehyung’s king-sized mattress and the expensive ass wine you’d drink together, but it had to be done. For the first time in your life, you were walking away from a situation that could get you into trouble.

You could feel his eyes on you as you searched for the rest of your clothes, managing to get fully dressed in a matter of minutes. He had put on his boxers and sat on the edge of his bed, eyeing your every move.

“Hey, I know you might miss me,” you teased, pinching his cheek lightly. “But, I don’t want to get caught up in any more drama, alright? Hana’s a good girl, maybe you could finally settle down-”

He cut you off, grabbing your wrist and pulling your face towards him. Maybe your heart had skipped a beat for a second there, but that giddy feeling was soon replaced with annoyance at his next words.

“And you? Are you gonna settle down?” he asked with a growl that he only ever brought out on... rough nights. You couldn’t help but laugh at how seriously he was taking this. Maybe he wasn’t lying when he said that you were his favorite fuck buddy.

“Unlike you, I haven’t met a Hana to tie me down just quite yet,” you said, releasing yourself from his grip. “No Prince Charming has ever swept me off my feet.”

You said it with a wink, but those words didn’t sit well with Taehyung. Who exactly was he to you?

“I’ll just stop meeting Hana then,” Taehyung shrugged. “We don’t need to end what we have going on just because of another girl. I could cut her off easily.”

You stared at him for a bit as you combed through your hair and then busted out in laughter. Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows at your reaction.

“Tae, no offense, but you actually can’t do better than Hana,” you shook your head, still laughing at his words. “Do you know how hard it is to come by a girl like her? Like, she’s so good for you. Hana could actually change you, you know that?”

It seemed pathetic that you were hyping up Hana so much and you could tell Taehyung was starting to get annoyed by it to, but you couldn’t help it. Hana was really better than you in so many aspects. Who were you to try and monopolize Taehyung all to yourself? Who were you to discourage her from pursuing a relationship with him? The right thing to do was to give her a fair shot with her first love.

You walked towards the pair of heels you had left near the bedroom door and slipped them on carefully.

“I could change for you too, [Y/N],” he murmured softly. “If you just ask, I would.”

You blinked at his words but continued to put on your heels. Was he drunk? You just came over after some light studying, you were sure he wasn’t intoxicated. No matter how hard you tried to ignore the rapid beating of your heart, you couldn’t get rid of the guilt that sat in the back of your throat.

“Tae, you and I both know we can’t change each other,” you said finally managing to get your heels on after grabbing the wall. “We’ve been doing this for months and we still manage to find time to fuck other people when we have the chance. Does that sound healthy to you?”

You tried to ease the tension of the conversation, but Taehyung was making it extremely difficult to switch the atmosphere into something more positive. He was angry with you, you could tell by the way he clenched his fists together and looked down at his feet. What did you even do to elicit a reaction this severe?

“Tae? What’s wrong?”

All he did was shake his head in response, not looking into your eyes. You sat next to him, putting a comforting hand onto his lap.

“Tell me. I’m all ears,” you said soothingly.

He heaved in a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Would you hate me if I said that I’d stop fucking other people if I just had you?” he asked slowly, trying to gauge your reaction without directly making eye contact. You were still for a second and finally, some things had started to click in your head. Your palms started sweating.

Finally understanding his words, you pulled your hand away from Taehyung’s lap and scoot a bit farther away from him.

“Tae, I wouldn’t be able to do the same for you,” you said straightforwardly. It was best to be honest in situations like this.

He shook his head and finally lifted his eyes, but he looked in front of him instead of at you.

“And what if I told you I was okay with that?” he gulped.

You sat their stunned, not really knowing what to say in response. Truthfully, you were frightened about the implications of his words. What would this mean for you two? For this no strings attached relationship? It all just felt too overwhelming at that moment.

You stood up, grabbing your purse from the floor, and was about to head to the door until he stopped you by the wrist again. He dragged you back to stand in front of the bed where he sat.

“I don’t want Hana, [Y/N],” he said, tears forming in his eyes. “I want you. Only you."

Your heart raced at his words and turned around to face him. As you stood there, staring down at him, you realized how weak he really seemed at that moment. It hurt you to see him like this, but then again, you should have expected this reaction. He had gotten clingier with you the past few weeks and you were an idiot for not realizing earlier.

Sometimes it was obvious that Taehyung was the more sensitive one out of the two of you, that he was a bit more skeptical of his lifestyle choices. There were times when you’d seen him genuinely heartbroken after getting slapped by girls he’d broken things off with and how he’d send apology texts to the ones he hurt the most. You weren’t like that- more of the type to ghost, the type to block. You couldn’t make an exception for Taehyung, not when Hana was at the dorm preparing her confession of love to him any day now.

“Please stay,” Taehyung croaked, burrying his head onto your long sleeve.

“I can’t Tae,” you said, softly pushing his hand away. “You know I’m not that kind of person.”

Taehyung had started tearing up, his lips forming a scowl. It was the first time you’d ever seen him show such sorrowful emotions. You smiled sadly at him. It felt like you were murdering someone with the way the guilt had completely overtaken your whole body. Staying with him would break Hana’s heart, but leaving him would break Taehyung’s.

In the end, you lose either way.

You grabbed a handkerchief from your purse and dabbed the tears away from his eyes.

“I can’t hurt Hana anymore,” you replied. “And I don’t want to hurt you anymore either. I’m sorry.”

He had started to sob and you handed the piece of cloth to him so he could wipe the tears off himself. You prayed that you wouldn’t regret letting him go, but knowing you, you probably would.

“It was fun being with you,” you said, carefully, not wanting to push any more buttons. “And maybe if I was a different person we could be something more, but...”

You couldn’t really find the energy to finish your sentence as you watched him cry into the handkerchief. Your heart was hurting so, so much. You wanted to take him into your arms, tell him that none of it was his fault and that you’d do anything just to see his twinkly eyes and bright smile once again. But you were reminded once again of that beautiful expression Hana had when she finished her poster-board for Taehyung, how they looked cruising through campus on their bikes with matching helmets. They’d make a great couple, you thought to yourself. Hana had the emotional availability that Taehyung craved for. This was the right thing to do, you thought.

“Let’s stop seeing each other,” you said with a conviction that only a person who was used to saying those words could muster confidently.

He looked up at you with disdain, scrunching his face in pain. He had never had his heart torn quite like this before. Taehyung wondered then if this was how all the other girls felt when he’d leave them. He realized, at that moment, that he might have deserved having his heart broken.

“Please stay,” he said again, his words distorted from the crying.

You shook your head and turned the door knob.

“I can’t,” you replied, tears threatening to spill over as you exited the room.

—

You left his dorm at 4 a.m., successfully evading campus security once again. When you walked towards your own dorm building, you couldn’t help but cry your eyes out. No other break up with the guys in your past had hurt quite like this one, even if you two were just fuck buddies. You didn’t even care about the worried glances people gave you as you passed by, you just wanted to drown in in your sorrows.

You opened the door to your room and Hana was there, reading a book. You composed yourself rather quickly, wiping away your tears before she could notice. Your cheeks were still noticeably puffy, though.

“Where were you?” she asked, taking her eyes off the page she was on to look at the wall clock in the room. “It’s so late, dummy. I stayed up to make sure you were okay since you weren’t answering my calls.”

You gave a fake chuckle.

“You know me,” you teased lightly, with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Another weekend means a new guy.”

She groaned in response.

“I literally can’t wait until you settle down and be all whipped for someone,” she sighed, turning a page on her book. “That way I can actually make fun of you.”

You choked back a cry and took off your heels, collapsing onto your bed.

“I doubt that’ll happen,” you whispered, before drifting off into sleep.

When had it become so easy for you to lie?

—

A/N: This was so much fun to write!! I really wanted a realistic depiction of a friends with benefits au so I hope this turned out okay. Let me know if yall want a part two!! I wanted to ask this question to you guys: is [Y/N] a bad person? The [Y/N] in this reminds me a lot of myself so hopefully yall dont dislike her too much LMAO Any suggestions for upcoming stories are welcome. Please let me know how you feel about this, I feed off of compliments and criticisms <3 Much love

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neonponders · 3 years ago

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I FINALLY uploaded again to my first Harringrove fic ever, so here’s an easy way to read ch. 1 since a lot of people here don’t know me from Dracula Has a Mullet haha

Read on ao3 here ~

💋 💋 💋 💋 💋 💋

The discovery that Billy Hargrove is a vampire came at a weird time in a weird way. It’s just not everyday that you walk in on someone fingering Alexandra O’Neil with their teeth—fangs—in her tit.

There were stranger things in Hawkins, unfortunately. Unfortunately? How fortunate is a vampire?

“For fuck’s sake. Really?”

Billy has the grace to extract his freaking teeth with a semblance of being surprised. “I didn’t know you had that kind of mouth, Harrington.”

Steve waves a scolding finger at him with all the gusto of a drunk, and he has the solo cup to justify it. “Put those away! She was homecoming queen last year. Jesus, have some class.”

“You serious?”

Steve downed the last of his beer and Jäger with a grimace, his voice going raspy. “Look, I’m not one to judge a lady’s standards, but really, Alex…Alex?”

The lady in question was so blissed out she looked like one of those unnaturally stupid women in every Dracula movie. Billy actually moved aside as Steve pulled her away from the wall—away from Billy—to try and talk to her. Righting her dress with quick yanks, he covered her gorgeous, if small, breasts and gave her a shake. “Alex! Hey!”

He could hear—could feel it, more like—Billy moving behind him in the dark room. Steve had come up here hoping to claim the guest room before someone used it to hookup from the party downstairs. It wouldn’t be the first time he woke up from a mid-party nap to someone being blown, but sometimes it’s the price one pays for free liquor and an ounce of decent sleep.

“What’s wrong with her standards? Huh, King Steve?”

The voice is right behind him, so close that the damn vampire has to rear backwards when Steve whirls around. “What kind of vamp name is Billy? Wait, that’s short for something—”

“If you call me by anything else, I’ll hang you from the ceiling by your teeth.”

“You’re not charming like vampires,” Steve practically complained. “Gotta work on that. Everyone gossips here. Folks will know you’re toothy like…” He fumbled a clumsy but sharp snap of his fingers.

Billy made a derisive sound before his voice crooned, “Seems like I’m flying just fine under the vampire radar, then.”

He was heaving Alex back up from where she had slumped against the dresser when Steve released her. Steve raked a hand through his hair, thinking. It was a slog through the alcohol, but he surmised that he could not take her away from this guy. Case being: Steve was far too drunk to logically drive, and to where? It was her house.

“You. You gotta go.”

Billy huffed one of his low, mirthless laughs. Instead of setting Alex nicely on the bed, he just kind of dumped her there. She let out a sort of dumb-giddy moan as she face planted a pillow and he faced Steve. “Excuse me?”

“You’re, like, biting people at a party!” Steve realized somewhere between his tone and his slight—or perhaps exaggerated, it was hard to tell at this point—sway, that Billy was far more sober than he felt.

Not the time to play hero but whatever.

Billy slowly stepped toward him. “There’s plenty worse at this shit house than me, Harrington. Worst weed I’ve ever had. And that shit whiskey’s been so watered down, it’s nothing but wheat water.”

“Hey!” Steve was poking two fingers at him before he meant to. “They just renovated the place and I got well paid for the tiling and paint!”

“So you’re the reason everyone’s been tripping over the same spot in the kitchen?” Billy huffed.

“And the whiskey’s not so bad if you chase it with grape juice. It’s like toast and jam water. Whatever, no one’s here for your holier-than-thou, California bullshit!”

Billy was caught by surprise that time. His whole expression lifted, brows and eyes widening as he repeated, “Holier. Than. Thou. That’s the kind of shit you pick up from books. I didn’t know the king could read.”

“Fuck off,” Steve grimaced, really just wanting to get Alex tucked into bed and maybe join her. “You’ve been riding me ever since you got here.”

“I definitely have not been doing that,” Billy retorted and then smiled. “What, you offering?”

“Was she?” Steve cornered, drawing himself up to his full height. Admittedly, not much taller than Billy, but small victories lead to great heights or something.

Billy wiped his mouth and Steve’s eyes plummeted to those lips. “Yeah, she was. She pulled me upstairs, or is that so hard to believe, blue balls?”

“It kind of is, yeah,” Steve said with his hands on his hips. “Alex has asthma. Like, inhaler tucked in her bra at prom in case the slow dance was too much. She’d never get with a chain smoker like you.”

“She would if her high school sweetheart cheated on her with the first college bitch he found.” One of Billy’s eyebrows perked up with his shrug. “I’m a favorite for ladies looking for a rebound.”

Steve grimaced. “Derek cheated? How do you know that?”

“That’s between her and me,” Billy said, stepping forward again. “But I hear you’ve been due for a rebound for a while, Harrington.”

He didn’t want to talk about Nancy. It wasn’t even Nancy, really, but he didn’t want to talk about anything regarding his sex life or lack thereof. Steve diverted, “I want you to leave. Go find someone else to—whatever the hell this is.”

“Well. You’re right here.”

“Not me, dumbass. I told you to leave the house.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Billy smiled. “What? You’ll let me beat the shit out of you again? We had an audience last time too.”

“I wouldn’t be too cocky about last time,” Steve groaned, beginning to take a step back. “The way I hear it, Jonathan had to mop you off the floor after—”

Billy wasn’t listening. His eyes were on Steve’s neck and the only gut wrenching, instinctive thought Steve had was weapon. It came in the form of a glass lamp, which he wrenched out of the wall to break over Billy’s head.

The hard thud of thick glass hitting before the shatter and glass raining over the floor had Steve gaping at him. Billy stood very still. Way too still. Steve wondered if he had knocked him out, but his legs hadn’t unbuckled yet.

Then Billy lifted dark eyes beneath his mess of a fringe, pupils blown wide. Steve continued to stare at him with the mechanical parts of the lamp still in his hand. “Holy shit, you didn’t even flinch! You’re supposed to dodge when furniture’s coming at you—”

Billy gripped the wrist holding the parts and wrenched him so far that Steve couldn’t react to Billy’s other hand on his pants. Heaving him up by his belt, he slammed Steve onto the table from which the lamp had originated. Music thrummed around them, the very beams in the walls vibrating. Steve defied the laws of his denim pants by folding his leg against his side to kick Billy in the gut. Ragged sounds from both of them went unheard by the party below. Steve slid like a heavy tablecloth to the floor with Billy likewise winded and crouched in front of him.

“Why…” Steve tried, rubbing his chest and hoping his talking lasted long enough for him to decide whether running or trying to pin Billy down was the best decision. “…can’t you just…not do this? Whatever alpha bullshit game you think life is.”

“Some of us don’t want to go through life with your dashing prince crap,” Billy spat.

“You think I’m dashing? I couldn’t tell, I passed out the last time you punched me in the face.”

Billy laughed. “Yeah. You’re just as soft as I remember.”

He was moving again and Steve felt a wild, foolish—downright stupid—thrill to try something else. “You need to leave, man. Really. I know a party of blackout graduates might seem like easy pickings, but Hawkins is different.”

“You don’t know shit about different,” Billy growled. “You’ve never seen grass outside this bum fuck of a town.”

“I’ve been to Disney World. And New York City. There’s gotta be some hospital nurse you can swoon into letting you raid their blood bank?”

He couldn’t tell if Billy was getting angrier or not. The man was always angry, seemed like. “I’m not drinking from a freezer. Now shut the hell up. You’ll enjoy this like your homecoming queen.”

A last ditch effort, diving in the direction of the door, but it wasn’t the first time Billy had been on top of him with murder in his eyes. Steve’s hands fumbled at Billy’s face, but then his wrists were pinned above his head and a panicked whine escaped as Billy’s hot, humid breath found him.

Steve went slack. They always do. Billy had figured out that something in his teeth or saliva sedated those he bit, and more. A whole lot more. It made a good flirt into a hell of a time. Alexandra of the Hawkins Homecoming Court had already come on his finger when Steve, of all people, waltzed right in.

It made hunting annoying. It made hunting fun. He had to be picky; didn’t want anyone he couldn’t look at for longer than three minutes moaning all over him while he tried to feed. His looks did most of the work. The right dash of charm here, a nice compliment there, and then his fangs did the rest.

Steve was hard under him. Billy felt the distinct push of his jeans against his own ass while he slid his fingers under Steve’s nape. Lifting his neck, he made sure the moron’s windpipe stayed open, as well as lifted his meal closer to his mouth—

A strange sound came from Steve. Billy’s eyes flicked to his face, but when that labored breathing sound happened again, he sat up and stared. Steve was crying.

This had never happened before. Those doe eyes that all the girls had ranted about when he first drove into Hawkins were red and squinted as moisture slid over his temples. Billy even checked to make sure he wasn’t sitting too heavily on his dick or something, but the gears of his brain slid into place.

Steve usually wore sunglasses at parties. Billy couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “Are you a drunk crier, Harrington? Hey, I’m talking to you.”

He gripped Steve’s jaw, but his whole head lolled, those eyes barely finding him through the daze. “I just wanna sleep,” he said quietly. Fresh tears raced into his hair as he passed out.

#harringrove #vampire!billy #pondermoniums #neonponders #fic rec #season 3 rewrite #dracula has a mullet

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onyourzeus · 4 years ago

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it just is | pjh

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: it just is pairing: park jaehyung (jae of day6) & you genre: angst with a happy ending words: 4.2k

author’s note: this took a few days to write because i wanted to approach it with sensitivity, and some realism from personal experiences. as i get to know jae as an artist, a day6 member, and a person even more, i feel so grateful for his music and his vulnerability that oftentimes is met with differing opinions from other people. i wanted to express that in this fic, and i hope i did the genre justice.

content warning: discussions of online hate, criticism, feelings of worthlessness, coping through them

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

You don’t get it— or maybe you do. You’ve been given criticism before; on a powerpoint presentation, college-level essays, exams with written solutions needed, even for work performances. It has its benefits, having other qualified people observe you through their own lenses. It makes you notice the errors in your answers, mispronunciations, and flaws in your work ethic you wouldn’t have been able to catch if you were tasked to evaluate yourself.

There’s a difference however, in the ways that you’ve experienced being given criticism and the way Jae has.

He gets criticized. Instead of firm and blunt observations that he needs to take into consideration, and adjust when necessary, he isn’t given a room for improvement. He just receives these words with a punch to the gut, a slap on his face, and it stings. A whole damn lot.

You think about the unfair times you were given criticism for work or a task that you originally thought was executed decently enough, at least for your standards. But that’s the point of being handed blunt feedback, is to let you realize that you can reach higher than this, go beyond what you previously had shown to others or even to yourself.

Criticism given to you over the years had always spared space for you to reflect, and grow with it. It was always supposed to be a weapon for you to take into your own hands, and wield it yourself. It was never meant to attack you full force, and leave you bleeding with no help in sight.

So maybe you do get it, but also you never really will when it comes to Jae.

Either way, you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t pick up the phone at a time when everyone in the city should be fast, fast asleep. When people have already drifted off into a deep slumber that enables them to dream beautiful things.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you wouldn’t ride your bicycle so late at night which you absolutely abhor. The cold air hitting your face as you speed up against its current is rarely a welcomed feeling, but that was the least of your concerns as you turned the corner to his apartment.

When it comes to Jae, your mind hums a low beep, static noise to blaring fire alarms and resounding thoughts in an instant.

You don't think much of it, however. He's just another friend, one who is in need.

You never truly believed he could be alright by himself, but you wanted to give him a chance. Now, hearing his voice crack through your phone followed by the connection breaking apart, you struggle to forgive yourself for letting him be. Even for just a little bit.

There wasn’t a need to knock, but you’re worried Jae may have forgotten he even called you in hesitation in the first place. In order to avoid spooking him, you make your presence known more clearly in the darkness.

“Jae, it’s me. I’m coming into your room.”

The door squeaks lightly, but the view isn’t any different. It remains dark, and lifeless in here. Stepping inside, the air just got a little bit heavier, and Jae’s breathing sounds more difficult that you began feeling aware of your own heart rate speeding up.

Retracing your steps from the multiples times you’ve been here, you get to the small lamp he barely uses on his desk. You turn it on the lowest brightness setting, giving the room a bit more dimension. It gives you a better view of Jae laying down on his bed, eyes staring into the ceiling. His hands support the weight of his head, lifting it up from the sheets.

He sniffles for a split second, and your heart thuds like a mic stand dropping on the floor at an empty stadium.

“Hey,” you approach him, careful not to be too loud with your movements.

The mattress dips from the weight of your body, and Jae slightly shuffles to the side to give you room. The side of your lips twitch in response as you make yourself comfortable laying down next to him.

For the next few minutes, no one talked.

Not even a hello back from him, and that’s new.

It’s… concerning, to say the least. Even in his most stressful days, you’d stop by his place knowing it’d annoy him but the sight of you and the smell of homemade spam musubi never fails to brighten up his mood.

He doesn’t forget to tell you that, and it makes you feel needed.

Taking in a deep breath, you look at him in the corner of your eye. He’s not asleep, although his eyes flutter back and forth from keeping it trained to the ceiling and drooping it ever so slightly. You squint further, noticing dried streaks of tears blurring onto his skin.

Your voice shakes. "Tell me where it hurts, Jae.”

You will yourself to resist your own choked out sobs. You’re not even sure what the issue was today. It’s always different, as if they have a giant wheel reserved just for him that someone gets to spin for their own pleasure.

Sometimes it lands on the same, debunked misunderstanding. Other times, you’ve become shell-shocked at how quick they fill in the blanks with made-up accusations for the sole purpose of hurting him even more.

None of it makes sense, and what angers you the most is the fact that Jae made you promise not to interfere. You hate that he used that word with you, promise me, please? because both of you know the importance behind them, especially when said between the two of you.

Did he change his mind tonight? Did it suddenly become too much to bear that breaking the very promise he asked of you was his last resort for help?

“Tell me,” you repeat with more determination now than overwhelmed nerves.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Jae answers, cold and empty.

Any other day that you pester him with a makeshift therapy session, you’d take that as a challenge. But tonight, his words linger in the air and you can’t shake off the goosebumps on your skin.

Maybe he’s right; at this point, shouldn’t you be more irritated than concerned? If he’s not willing to at least describe how inflicting the pain must be with every word online stabbed into him, why do you bother cleaning up the mess?

“How do you know that?”

“Because you’re not me. They say those things because it’s me. I’m the problem.”

“Jae—"

You have the script memorized, the tirade of counterpoints to every blame shifted upon himself, but tonight you stop the words spilling from your mouth.

You turn your body towards him, hands folded underneath your cheek, a lone tear falling from your right eye.

“Do you believe them?” You ask, and the pause in Jae’s staring doesn’t go unnoticed.

He finally looks at you directly, ever since laying down beside him on his bed. With his body still laying flat, he turns his head to face you, his lips pressed together roughly.

You elicit a tsk sound, ignoring the amount of time that has passed since your question. Your fingers meet the cracked skin on his lips as you gently pry them off of each other. It’s wet, and the bright ring of blood doesn’t surprise you. Instead, you wipe it away, pulling your hand back to smear it off your shirt.

At some point, Jae mouths you a sorry but you don’t acknowledge him. Just as he’s obviously avoiding your own query.

“You’re not sleeping well,” it was more a fact than another question thrown at him. You reckon he’d be more cooperative with you if you say it how it is without him denying openly obvious things.

“You’re only drinking dubious cups of coffee in a day with one meal in between, at the most.”

“I haven’t had an appetite recently.”

“But you’d cater to your growing caffeine addiction more so than bring your appetite back?”

You don’t want to sound mean, but the stress lines forming on your forehead aren’t helping with your attempt to ease into the conversation more slowly.

Jae sighs, and it’s one of his many signs that entails he wants to move on, talk about something that is less targeting his questionable behavior and more mundane shit that doesn’t fit into the mood of the room at all.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

Unexpectedly, you look back at him and answer with a hint of surprise, “You think so low of me.”

Jae laughs, and for a moment the room became brighter. Just a little bit.

“Dude, do you know what time it is?”

“Yes, do you?” It was a rhetorical question, but you’re sort of glad he’s not just staying silent anymore. “I don’t have class in the morning. Even if I did, I’d still be here. Just cursing you out more for making me bike in the cold.”

“It’s because you don’t wear enough layers, dummy,” Jae points out, pointing at the lack of thick clothing covering your upper body.

Your first instinct is to flick his forehead, nudge him by the shoulder, and call him a fool. How can you even think of yourself that way when you receive a call from someone whose voice was on the verge of tears?

But you let it go for now, it’s not like he’ll believe you. It’s not like it matters.

“I still haven’t gotten my From Friends merch, Jae,” you taunt him and he laughs once more. Slowly, you feel his mood change from dreary to a few degrees warmer as he sits up on the bed.

You follow his lead, keeping your knees close, chin resting atop them. You’ll humor him for right now, it’s probably best that you don’t force his feelings out in the open as unwanted as they may be. He might not allow you in the future if you do.

“You can have one of mine. They gave me a ton from the first test batches,” he offers, leaning into you as if to convince you even more.

“I’m seriously gonna hold you onto that. I’m not leaving your apartment tonight without a sweater or two,” you respond, darting your tongue out. Normally, Jae would reciprocate, and if he’s feeling even riskier, inch his face towards yours for shock value.

Tonight, he’s definitely acting differently than normal. Especially with what he says right after is not something you’d expect from Jae.

“Don’t leave tonight.”

“I—”

“Just for tonight?” Jae pleads, gaze fully on yours now. “I’m sorry for being selfish, but… I’m really, really glad you came. I wouldn’t know what… I’m just.. lost and I don’t know what else to think. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ll stay,” you reassure him, not entirely sure what this entails.

This doesn’t feel like those nights you’d be here for sleepovers countless of times before. Those nights were planned, prepared, and eventually ends up with Jae sleeping on the couch and you hogging his bed, as per your request (yet he willingly lends you his blanket).

Maybe two, three hours at best— this was the amount of time you believed you’d stay. You’ll listen to him vent, or just sink into the silence with him. Either way, you knew your presence can only soothe his pain temporarily, and he won’t say it out loud so you show yourself out the door voluntarily.

He wouldn’t protest, just hug you goodbye and ask that you text him when you get home.

You awkwardly stretch out your legs, placing your hands on your thighs. Swallowing a nervous breath, you let out, “So, um, do you want to talk about it, pal… or…”

All of a sudden you can’t comprehend a single word you’re saying, while Jae just stares at you amusingly, his lips in a tight smile waiting to burst out in giggles.

“I’m trying to comfort you here!” you whine, pouting at the way he’s making fun of you. “When you suddenly ask me to stay just like that, it makes it… weird!”

“I’m sorry,” Jae chuckles airily, carding a hand through his ruffled dark brown locks. “It’s fun for me when I’m not the butt of the joke,” he continues on, tone spiraling to that of seriousness again.

“Is it something incredibly absurd again? What was it? What happened?”

Jae shakes his head. “The words don’t matter.”

You argue back, “Yes, they do. It’s what hurts the most.”

You’ve seen the tweets, sometimes even the hashtags and you wish there was a way to mass report the whole app altogether, and throw it all away in the trash. But Jae reprimands you for overreacting, even if you catch him smiling at the suggestion.

“Debatable,” he sighs outwardly, clasping his hands together and resting them in between the wall and the nape of his neck. “A lot of them are just empty words, sure, but the pain they inflict is something else entirely.”

There’s something about the way Jae speaks about criticism thrown at him that makes you frustrated.

It’s not a secret that there isn’t an ounce of defensive vein in you when you’re at the receiving end of people finding faults in your work, your character. You believe humans are overprotective of who they think they are, they’ve become, as much as they like to hide it.

But with Jae, he sounds way too calm and composed for your liking. Ironically so, since he mentions pain. Perhaps this is his coping mechanism, take them as they are, unembellished and oftentimes hurtful.

But it doesn’t have to be that way, because the more he speaks of them so nonchalantly, the less his eyes sparkle and show his true feelings.

Your eyebrows crease even further, examining Jae’s facial features that remain still and unmoving, giving attention to anything else in his line of sight but you.

“A lot of them are false accusations, you don’t have to accept what you think is false.”

“Are they, though? To an extent, I think it shows what others perceive of me on a daily basis.”

“So you’re saying you do believe what they say about you?”

“At this point,” Jae starts off, stretching his arms upwards before crossing them against his chest languidly. He looks tired. “What else do I believe in? You know when the negativity becomes so loud in your head, I can’t explain it, but the words that tell me to keep going get muddled and overpowered by everything that screams I’m not enough?”

You’re not sure whether to respond.

It doesn’t seem like anything you say can add value to his confession. You look down on your hands, not knowing what to do with them so you keep them intertwined. It’s sweaty, yet the buzzing of his air conditioner fills the air. For some reason, you can’t stop your heart from pounding heavily inside you either.

In a way, it’s possibly because of the realization that all you can offer Jae is an ear to listen to. All you can offer him is your body warmth hopefully exuding onto him, having the presence of another person in his space just to ensure that someone is listening to what he has to say. When no one else seems to let him do so online.

But you want to be more, you have wanted to be so much more. You wish your hands can extend themselves to his, pull him closer so he can hear your heart beating desperately for him. If it had a morse code of its own, it would have confessed the love you feel for him all this time.

It’s gone quiet again, so you slowly lift your head to sneak a peek at him. His eyes are closed, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep with unwanted thoughts fogging his brain.

Great, the guilt makes it way on your shoulders, weighing you down with it. He asks you to stay, you don’t believe his sincerity, and when he’s opened up so much in one night, you lack the response he needed to hear.

“If it means anything, I don’t believe them. You have your share of dumb moments, sure, but who hasn’t? If they figured out how much stupid shit I have said or done in my lifetime, I don’t think I’ll have a career ever again,” you mutter, mostly to yourself now.

Your mind wanders back to those times that you’ve made yourself look like a fool in front of Jae, and he still holds you against them to this day.

“Remember when I said owls were the cutest animals ever? And then I saw a tumblr post of what their legs looked like underneath all of those feathers? I felt so betrayed,” you recall out loud, snickering at times the group chat you shared with Jae and your mutual friends consisted solely of those creepy baby owl pictures that have surfaced on the internet-- seemingly their only purpose was to torment you with the truth.

You had posted your intense distaste of the animal on your Twitter, rather proudly even. It was a good thing your account was private, but the shame you felt was too intense to keep it on your profile for too long so you ended up deleting it, anyway.

But imagine if someone had somehow saved that tweet and called you out for being cruel towards unsuspecting birds?

“Or the time I got so drunk, I basically roasted all of your solo songs, calling them the national anthem of a hopeless romantic who will never find the love they’ve been praying for?” This was before It Just Is with Seori, and it was a dare that Younghyun had given you as payback for making him act out a lovey-dovey manhwa scene with Dowoon.

You think, if their supporters heard that out of context, you’re most likely toast.

Understandably, these are all a stretch, and at the end of the day, you’re not as famous as Jae. And if anything, the “roast” you had blurted out was completely inaccurate of what you actually think of his solo projects.

A projection, if you will, of your own feelings. If anyone in your circle of friends wears the title of a hopeless romantic, the crown has been glued to your head since meeting Jae.

“I’m not making any sense,” you say, rubbing your cheeks for comfort while watching Jae just doze off into the night. You weren’t sure if he still needed you to stay, but you’d feel it would be amiss if you left.

You begin to shuffle your way off the bed to give yourself more space to think about your next move until you feel Jae’s hand reach for yours, and squeeze it tight.

“I didn’t say you can go,” he mumbles sleepily, eyes still fluttered close. Yet his lips are smiling, almost as if he’s dreaming lightly. If that were the case, you humor him, and let his hand fall into yours. You like it that way, too.

“Did you hear what I just said two minutes ago?”

“No,” he lies.

“Mhm,” you hum, slowly making your way on the bed again. This time, you sit next to him, his sweatpants clad thigh leaning against your leggings. Your hands still held together, albeit loosely, he lifts it up as if to examine it with droopy eyes.

“Thanks, though. Oddly enough, that made me feel a little better,” he admits. “Except for that time you said hated my songs. I don’t think I’m letting that go easily.”

“I was apologetic, and it was a dare! I offered you food for a week,” you protest, shaking his hand off but he doesn’t budge. He keeps it in his palms, and you don’t know what to do with yourself.

A blush escapes on your cheeks, pink and warm, and most definitely as a result of your nerves getting the best of you.

“True,” he recalls, and tilts his head to the side inquisitively, “but it sounded like you really meant it…”

“Jae, you know that’s not true. I literally stream them on soundcloud almost every day,” you say a matter-of-factly, but regret it since it wasn’t something that he had no knowledge about before tonight. He pulls your hand closer to his chest, and excitedly beams at you.

“No way?” He exclaims, and you have no choice but to confirm, a helpless pout on your face. “Yeah, I listened to it on the way here.”

“My number one fan, huh,” he coos, tracing the lines on your palm. You gulp hard, knowing how much sweat your hands had accumulated since meeting his touch. You really don’t want him to notice, but the soothing caress of his fingers felt better than not anything else in the world.

“Whatever floats your boat, dude,” you try to brush it off, and Jae nods animatedly.

You try your best not to appear sleepy as a yawn finds its way out your lips. Jae notices this, and sadly lets go. Then, he taps on his shoulder, the one right next to you.

“Sleep, my child.”

“Never call me that. Ever again.”

“Don’t be dramatic, and just lean in,” he insists, cradling your head until you plop down on him.

It feels awkward, angled a bit on the uncomfortable side. But he adjusts for you, and you feel your body giving in to the source of support for your weary mind.

“I can sleep on the couch—”

“Shh, no more talking.”

Silently, you roll your eyes and say nothing more. Your fingers fiddle with each other once again, remembering how much of Jae’s skin slid next to yours, and now your cheek is pressed down on his frame.

Again, this isn’t the first time it’s happened, but the events leading up to this particular night is all new to you. You allow your body to get comfortable, used to this feeling, even if it’s just tonight.

Your original plan was to be Jae’s shoulder to lean on, but the roles seem to have reversed.

Softly, Jae calls your name. For a second, you’re too immersed in the synchronized breathing the two of you share. When he brings your hand into his, your senses perk up but you refuse to look into his eyes; afraid of what he might see in yours.

“What? You said no more talking.”

“I’m happy you’re here,” he tells you, even softer than before as your hands melt together, filling the spaces between. You don’t know whether to let this happen, not understanding the meaning behind his actions.

It’s.. weird, unknown, foreign, but addicting. His touch is addictive, and you know you’re going to crave for more if you’re not careful with the dosage.

Biting your lip, you struggle to reply. He might mean it in a friendly way, but the invitation to relax right onto his shoulder, lacing your fingers as if they’re meant to be locked in place that way, it’s all too much for your brain to process— and definitely your heart.

Face hot, heart heavy with emotions, you say shakily, “I’m happy you asked me to.”

“Hm?”

“I.. want to be the person you call first when you’re feeling like shit. If possible, I want to be the only person.” There was no going back, no swallowing words you’ve let go in the open.

As you speak, Jae’s fingers tighten its grasp around yours. You feel weak, but you appreciate him supporting you this way as you keep going.

“I probably will never understand what it is you feel when certain words pierce through you too deep, like you said. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. I want to know how you’re feeling, from good to bad. From the best and the worst of it all. I want to be there.”

“Who said you aren’t?” Jae’s low voice interrupts your stream of emotions, and it compels you to finally see his eyes. They’re shining, teary, and smiling at the same time.

You feel your cheeks soaking wet, and a hiccup arises out of your lips. With your free hand, you hide half of your face in embarrassment. Two idiots, crying together, hands never letting go of each other.

It didn’t seem long until you fell asleep on his bed. The only difference this time, from all the other times you’ve been here, Jae was sleeping beside you.

Arms over your frame, his long fingers finding their permanent place within yours. The two of you have exhausted your emotions enough that night, and there was plenty of time in the day to talk it all through.

You dream of what seems to be a possible future for you and Jae. Moments when he’d fuck up, when you’d say something out of pocket, but it was met with a healthy discussion between you.

And even if there are days when people online couldn’t understand the growth happening in his life, you see it. You see him, and you don’t hesitate to forgive, and give him space to grow. As he does with you.

#day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 x reader #day6 au #park jaehyung imagines #park jaehyung scenarios #park jaehyung x reader #park jaehyung au #day6 fic #by:jiae

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ninzied · 4 years ago

Text

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

for @fulloffeels.

kastle roommate au. 2.5k.

Living with Karen is one of the best, worst things he’s ever done.

He’d thought she was joking, when she first suggested it.

“Your landlord won’t stop raising your rent, and this way you’ll be closer to work.” She said it like it was a no-brainer. “Besides, you spend half your time stealing the beer at my place anyway,” and as she sipped on her drink Curtis gave Frank a look, eyebrows nearly shooting clean off his forehead.

Frank scowled at him before saying to Karen, “I appreciate that, but I wouldn’t want to, ah, disrupt your—you know—”

“Riveting social life?” Karen said archly, glancing around with a pointed expression. Even for a Thursday night, Josie’s didn’t have much going on. “Please. If anything, you’re so allergic to human contact that your social life will only make me feel better about mine.”

Frank shook his head with a laugh. “You’re really selling it now.”

“Great,” said Karen. “What does next week look like for you?”

Which is how Frank finds himself moving into Karen’s two-bedroom, 800 square foot loft, a steal by New York standards, sharing a bathroom, and making them coffee and eggs in the morning.

“Think I’m starting to get the real reason you keep me around,” he tells her, stirring in the cream and sugar just the way she likes it.

“Mm. I definitely got the better end of the deal,” she agrees, sipping, and smiling, and kissing his cheek before going about the rest of her day.

It’s fine. It’s fine.

And it’s—surprisingly easy, at first.

A lot of it is in fact not so different from what he’s already used to.

Karen’s never been fussy about how she looks in front of her guy friends, always changing into sweats first thing after getting home from work, washing her face clean of makeup, cracking open a cold can of beer. A typical evening still gets spent arguing over the merits of reality TV—or, when Karen’s bogged down by work, he’ll read through articles she’s drafted up, and talk through court cases with her.

“Are you sure you’re a former Marine?” she shakes her head at him on occasion. “Sometimes I think you must have been a criminal mastermind in a past life.”

“Yeah?” He tosses a couch cushion at her. “Next time you need my help, why don’t you go ask those two lawyer friends of yours instead.”

“They’re not as cute when they get flustered,” Karen shrugs, with a perfectly straight face as Frank scrubs a hand over the back of his head and mumbles something about getting another drink from the kitchen.

Frank doesn’t let her order takeout as much as she’s probably used to, but she doesn’t complain either, every time he cooks for them—only teasing him a little for wearing an apron, and flicking water at him when he points out the soap suds in her hair.

It’s easy. Almost too easy, how everything just falls into place, how living with Karen comes so naturally to him. Like it’s something he was always meant to do.

And then she starts seeing someone.

Frank tries not to notice the small signs.

The extra minutes she spends getting ready in the bathroom. The subtle dab of gloss on her lips, the rosy glow to her cheeks. The late evenings out. The way she’s always checking her phone, how her thoughts drift off mid-conversation with him.

She goes on a couple of dates with this guy. She doesn’t bring him home with her, at least, and she hasn’t spent the night at his place. Frank doesn’t know much about him at all. She tells him very little, and he tries not to pry—he doesn’t want to be that cliché who only knows what he has once he’s lost it.

Not that Karen was ever his to begin with.

After the third date—not that Frank is keeping track—she comes home earlier than usual. He tries not to think anything of it. It’s a weeknight, and they’re both always up before dawn for work.

Frank’s on the couch, nursing a beer as she toes off her heels and flops down beside him.

“You look nice,” he says, gaze not leaving the screen.

She sounds amused when she replies. “How can you tell? You look like your eyes haven’t left Regis Philbin’s all night.”

“You always look nice,” says Frank, the words out of his mouth before he can stop them. He clears his throat. “So, uh. How are you?”

Karen hums thoughtfully. “Now that’s the million dollar question.”

He finally glances sidelong at her. “Date not go well?”

She looks at him for a moment, and he can’t read the expression on her face. “Date went fine,” she says.

“That’s good.” He nods, then looks back at the TV. He stares at the screen without really seeing it. “That’s good.”

He takes another sip of his beer.

“Do we have any more of those?” she asks him, nudging her foot against his leg.

“Yeah. Hang on.” He hands her the remote and heads to the fridge.

The screen’s still on Regis when he gets back, handing her an open bottle.

“I don’t think this guy’s going to make it,” says Karen. The contestant is currently sweating it out over 32 thousand. He’s already used up two of his lifelines.”

“Think you’re right about that,” says Frank.

…

“So, have you kissed her yet?”

Frank goes still, his fork freezing halfway up to his mouth. “How’s that?”

“C’mon, honey. I told you. Look at him.” David’s talking about him like he’s not even there. “Does he strike you as a guy who’s been kissing anyone recently, let alone Karen?”

Frank raises a brow, lowering his fork to his plate. “You want to run that by me again?”

“Well have you?” asks David, and at Frank’s unresponsiveness he shrugs and says, “I rest my case.”

Frank spears up a small buttered potato, imagining it with David’s face for a moment. “Karen and I are just friends,” he tells them. “Living with her doesn’t change that. Besides, she’s—she’s seeing someone.”

“Since when have you let that stop you before?” David wants to know, wincing good-naturedly when Sarah cuffs him on the shoulder.

“For the last time,” she says. “It was just one kiss, we were in college, and you and I were on a break.”

David opens his mouth to argue, but Sarah’s already moved on.

“I didn’t realize Karen was seeing anyone.” Sarah wrinkles her nose. “She hasn’t mentioned it.” She looks back over at David. “Did she say something to you?”

“Of course,” says David, “because Karen and I like to gossip about our love lives with each other.”

Sarah reaches across the table and squeezes Frank’s arm sympathetically. “I’m sorry,” she says. “We just want you to be happy. Maybe if you told her how you felt—”

“It’s not like that,” says Frank.

But judging by the look the Liebermans exchange with each other, they aren’t any more convinced than Frank is on the matter.

“Well if that’s the case,” says David, with a triumphant little side-eye at his wife, “then I guess it won’t be too insensitive of me to point out that you lost our bet?”

“Unbelievable,” mutters Frank. “Remind me again why I’m friends with you two?”

…

It’s three months into their living arrangement, and three Fridays after Karen’s started falling off the face of the earth, when it happens.

He’s been out for drinks with Curt, trying not to think too hard about what Karen had been wearing when she left on her date, whether she’ll be home by the time he gets back, if this is going to be the night he doesn’t see her again until morning.

Shit. The Liebermans were right.

And if the look Curt’s giving him is anything to go by, he’s known all along, too.

“How you holding up?” he asks, even more delicately than usual.

Frank snorts, shakes his head. “Lieberman told you, didn’t he.”

“He might’ve said something,” says Curt, sounding almost apologetic about it. “Do you know anything about the guy she’s seeing? It’s not the lawyer she used to date, is it?”

“Nah.” Frank downs the rest of his beer, gesturing at the bartender for another. “I think she would’ve told me if it was.”

“Still,” says Curtis. “Doesn’t seem like her to be this secretive about it, does it?”

“No. You’re right.” Frank stares into his empty glass. The alternative, though, is—what? Does Karen know, too? All this time, and the tip-toeing around—was it all just her way to spare him and his feelings?

The last thing he wanted, when he moved in with her, was to make her feel like she had to hide any part of her life from him.

He thinks over what he wants to tell her as he’s walking home from the subway an hour later. “Karen,” he mutters under his breath. “If you want me to go, I’ll go. But if you want me to stay, I’m—I’m not gonna stand in the way of whoever it is that's making you happy.”

His chest is uncomfortably tight by the time he’s inserting the key in the lock. It only occurs to him then that she might not even be home; it’s barely nine, and it’s their fifth date at this point. If the guy she’s seeing hasn’t put the moves on her by now—

But the lights are on as he closes the door, the TV playing at low volume. There’s a cooking show that Karen doesn’t normally watch, unless he’s at home and has managed to wrangle the remote from her.

He walks further into the apartment, something lightening in his step. He pivots a corner out of the hallway, and his shoe crunches down on the unmistakable sound of glass.

He lifts his gaze, takes in the kitchen with the sense of one who’s not actually there—his vision swims, and it feels so surreal, like it’s not really his body that’s moving. Stepping over the glass. Picking up the bloodied knife on the cutting board. There’s another glass, this one intact, sitting innocently on the counter next to half a lime and a bottle of tequila.

Everything is spattered with blood.

Karen.

He swallows back bile, hands clenching into fists. She has to be okay. She has to—

“Frank? Is that you?” Karen’s voice is coming from the bathroom, and it breaks through his reverie. The knife clatters back onto the counter. He hadn’t realized he’d still been holding it.

He’s at the bathroom door in two seconds. “Where is he?” he thunders, in a voice he hardly recognizes as his own. “He hurt you? He do this to you?”

Karen stares over at him from her place by the sink. She’s holding a towel to her hand, and the basin is spotted bright red with blood. “What? Who?”

Frank’s not more than a couple inches taller than Karen, but his terror makes everything else look small, and he’s all but towering above her, gaze roaming all over to assess her for any obvious injuries.

It takes him a moment to recognize the shirt that she’s wearing.

“Sorry,” she says unnecessarily, tugging a little on the hemline. “It was the first thing I grabbed out of the laundry when I got home.” His shirt falls just short of her knees, and underneath that she’s all long, bare legs. But he doesn’t let himself stop to think about what any of this means to him, because it’s not the thing that matters right now.

“I’ll kill him,” he says. “I didn’t need to know who he was before, but now I think I need to kill him.”

“Frank,” she says slowly. “It’s okay. It was me.” She uncovers her hand and shows him a cut along the edge of her thumb. It’s long, but not terribly deep, and it looks like it’s stopped bleeding for now.

He doesn’t realize he’s reached for her until her other hand closes around his.

“But he was here.” Frank looks up, brow knitting in the middle. “I saw the other glass. I thought—”

Karen flushes. “That was supposed to be for you. Curtis texted me when you were leaving the bar, and I, um. I thought I’d—” Frank goes on staring at her, and she lets out a small sigh. “We should probably talk.”

…

He brings her tea, and a first aid kit for her hand. She props her feet up on the coffee table, leaning back into the couch and watching him quietly as he cleans around the wound and carefully bandages it up.

“Might not ever let you back into your kitchen again.” He winds some more gauze around her thumb.

“Does it look like I’m complaining?” says Karen.

He’s turned into her, knees ending up under her legs as he works, but she doesn’t move away from him, and doesn’t let go of his hand when he’s finished.

“So, don’t be upset,” she starts by telling him, and he looks up at her then, jaw tensed, bracing. “But I’ve…been meeting with an informant.”

He stares at her, not comprehending.

“You’re not—?”

Karen shakes her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t want to lie to you, Frank, but I didn’t want to worry you either.” She laughs, looking rueful. “Which I guess I managed to do just fine anyway.”

Frank swallows, and has some difficulty looking her in the eye when he says, “You always seemed like you were…you know. On your way to do something else.”

“I figured it would seem less suspicious.” She bites her lip. “And…I would really be lying if I said the thought of trying to make you jealous didn’t cross my mind.”

Frank takes a deep breath. “That obvious, huh.”

“Yeah.” But the smile she gives him is gently teasing, and then she’s the one glancing down at their hands, their fingers curled loosely together. “I’ve, um. I’ve seen the way you look at me, when you think I don’t notice.”

“I’m always lookin’ at you,” he replies, and it’s as much a confession to her as it is to himself. “You want me to stop?”

“No,” she says, softly enough that he could’ve imagined it. But he doesn’t imagine the way that she leans closer, until their foreheads are almost touching, and the way she’s looking at him couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, either. “No. I don’t.”

…

The following Friday, they’re walking into Josie’s hand in hand.

“The usual?” asks Karen, laughing as he snakes a hand around her waist, pulling her in for a quick kiss. “I’ll meet you over there.”

His friends are a combination of smug and astonished as Frank walks up to their table.

“Hey,” is all he says, and sits down.

Sarah takes a calm sip of her drink. She lasts there for about three more seconds before excusing herself and heading briskly off toward the bar where Karen is standing, beaming at Frank as she goes.

“If you’ve got something to say,” sighs Frank, “feel free to get it done with now.”

“All right,” says Curt, and then he’s turning to David, both of them grinning from ear to ear. “Looks like the next round is on you.”

#kastle #kastle ff #kastlenetwork

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12yeahiminluvwu · 4 years ago

Text

Bad Enough For You

pairing - pop-punk!jj x pop punk!reader

summary- JJ wants you all to himself, and he’ll do anything he has to to make that happen, even if it means reverting to his old ways.

word count- 2,265

warning(s)- swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs,

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

From the wings, JJ watched as the girl he had shamelessly obsessed over for months sang her lungs out and jumped around the stage like she owned the place. He could tell that this was her element. The stage was where she belonged. From where he stood, he could see her chest moving up and down as she fought hard to breathe but you wouldn’t know by the way she hit every note like it was second nature to her. He watched the way she got down on her knees, reaching out for the crowd and singing right to them. She was fucking good at this. It was no question why they were the most popular band in the little college town.

Y/n was somewhat of a mystery to JJ, even after all this time. He couldn’t figure her out, no matter how hard he tried. He watched countless guys come and go, none of them fitting her standards- of which he had no clue what they were.

He was always nice to her- which was his first mistake. Y/n wasn’t into the nice guy type. Unbeknownst to JJ, she liked her boy, and girls, as bad as they come. Her last boyfriend was a drug dealer from the southside of town who looked like he definitely had killed someone before. She never bothered to ask though, it was just better that way. His second mistake was trying to get her attention. She didn’t give it to anyone she knew wanted it, except for fans on stage. So there JJ was, shit out of luck. It wasn’t until one night after a hopeless encounter that he decided he’d start trying to be someone she would pay attention to. That had been a few weeks ago now. JJ knew how to be an asshole. He’d done it most of his teenage years back home on the island.

As the band was coming off stage, Y/n waited for the typical “Hey good job out there!” from JJ, but all she got was a cold shoulder. He didn’t even acknowledge her, even if all he wanted to do was spin her around and tell her how amazing she’d been. He had to be the bad guy now, because that’s the only way he’d get to her. She brushed it off quickly and made her way back to the green room, whereas JJ and his boys made their way onto the stage.

--------

“Anyone know The Band CAMINO?” JJ asked and the crowd erupted in loud chants and screams. The tune to See Through filled the bar and the crowd got even louder. She didn’t know it, but Y/n was the inspiration for the band singing this song tonight.

Now it was Y/n’s turn to watch from the wings. She kept her gaze on the blond bassist, silently wishing he would stop trying so hard to get at her.

The air in the bar was damp and smelled like sweat and cheap beer. It was packed wall to wall, for sure violating some type of fire code, but who really cared anyway. The only sound you could hear from here all the way down the block was the live music being played. Lights shined on the boys, illuminating every inch of their skin, making them look like absolute gods. JJ, as usual, had ended up taking his shirt off a few songs into the set, making everyone in the crowd go crazy. Y/n had to admit, the boy knows how to work an audience. He knows exactly what to do to drive them crazy, and if he wasn’t such a kiss ass off stage, she might give him a chance. She just wasn’t into the kind of guys who would drop everything and come running. She liked the chase. She liked feeling like she had to earn the attention of someone, she didn’t like when it came easy.

“Rebound feeling like a rerun, everything that we've done, funny how it all played out.

You're good at looking at me like I'm see-through but I gotta see you, I shoulda learned by now.” The vein in JJ’s neck was straining as he poured his heart into the song. In that moment, with the crowd roaring and the sweat dripping down his face, he felt like he was flying. He felt invincible, and for a moment- he forgot about Y/n. But only for a moment, because as soon as the next verse fell out of his mouth, her image came flooding back into his mind like a tidal wave.

“How do I get your attention? How does it feel to always have mine? How do I address this tension? How you're looking through me every time? Got me out here, got me thinking what I would do, got me in my head, got me wishing I was with you. God, I'm wishing I was with you.” Quickly, JJ glanced over to where you stood and before you could notice, his eyes shifted back to the crowd in front of him.

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

Post gig was always JJ’s favorite time because he got to hang out with his boys and revel in the high that was performing live. The air was still thick from the events tonight but the boys didn’t care. The afterparty had moved from the bar to the band’s shared apartment and Y/n’s band was here too. JJ did his best to keep his gaze off of her, but her smile lit up the whole room, and he couldn’t ignore the way he felt when she was around. But he knew that if he showed any of that at all, it would send her running for the hills.

There she was, standing with a drink in her hand, laughing with the lead singer of his band and driving him crazy. He tried to focus on the music playing and the conversation he was having about how good Ashton Irwin’s solo music was, and how his album is going to be a huge hit, but he found himself drifting back to her every time. Excusing himself, he walked into the kitchen to make himself a stronger drink. He stopped cold when he saw who was standing at the counter, back facing him. Shaking his head, and ignoring the hitch in his throat, he brushed past her, reaching around the counter to find what he was looking for.

“You’ve been pretty quiet lately Maybank… any particular reason?” The girl asked from beside him. He looked over at you quickly, simply shrugging his shoulders. That was all he gave you, hoping it would be enough to keep your attention a little longer without looking too interested. You gave him a once over before continuing on with your night.

JJ had left you wanting more, believe it or not. You suddenly wanted to know why he detached himself from you. Was he losing interest in you? Or using reverse psychology to get your attention. Either way, it made your mind race. The more he drew away, the closer you wanted to get. This was the chase you wanted.

By the end of the night, you were drunk off your ass and had somewhat attached yourself to JJ. He paid you no mind other than keeping you from falling over every once and awhile.

“Do you need a ride home?” He asked as people started to clear out and head home. He hadn’t ended up drinking as much as he thought he would, and was completely sober.

“Probably…” You giggled and laid your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his middle, attempting to pull him closer to you. On the inside, he was freaking out. His heart was permanently beating at a million miles an hour, his palms sweating and breath caught in his throat, but to anyone looking your way, he looked cool as a cucumber. No one would be able to tell that he was freaked out by the girl of his dreams hanging off him like they were in love.

JJ looked around and saw that your whole band had left and that you two were the only ones left in the living room.

“We should get you back home…” He trailed off, walking the two of you over to the couch and sitting you down so he could grab your things before helping you back up and out to his car. He reached across to belt you in and gently shut the door. Starting the car, the quiet hum of Bad Enough For You by All Time Low filled in the silence between the two of you.

“You know…” Y/n started to say and JJ glanced over at her before returning his gaze to the road. After looking at her ID for her address, he made his way through the streets.

“I actually think you’re really attractive, but you made it wayyy too obvious that you had a thing for me so I pushed you away… because it scares me when people show an interest in me… be-because usually people just leave in the end anyway…”

JJ was quiet for a moment. Had you just admitted that you liked him?

“Why, don’t we talk about this tomorrow when you’re sober?” He asked, parking his car in front of her apartment. Coming around the side of the car, he helped her up out of the seat and walked her to the door, grabbing her keys from her to open the door.

“Will you stay?” She slurred and he hesitated.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea Y/n…”

“Please? We don’t have to do anything, I just don’t want to be alone when I wake up…” The look on her face was enough to make him do anything she asked him to. His heart melted and he nodded, walking behind her, hands intertwined, to her bedroom. She shimmied out of her skinny jeans and took her bra off under the baggy band tee-shirt that had been tucked into the pants, plopping down on the queen mattress. JJ kicked off his docs and shimmied out of the jeans he’d been wearing before climbing into bed next to her. She tucked herself right into his chest like it was her own little spot and was out in seconds. JJ, on the other hand, took a little longer to fall asleep. He started down at you, your cheek pressed up against his chest, hair all over the place. He’d never seen you look this peaceful, not even on stage. Slowly, he brought his hand up to brush the stray hairs out of your face. He just couldn’t get his mind to shut off. But eventually, his eyelids fell heavily closed and sleep took over him.

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

When morning came, you had trouble remembering where you were, and who you were with… Looking up at the person you were laying a slight rush of releifewashed over you, but then you started to worry about what happened last night and lifted the blanket in hopes that your clothes, and his, were still intact. Thank fuck, they were.

You felt JJ take a deep breath and closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep still, doing your best to ignore the pounding headache that resided at the base of your neck. You could tell JJ had a mini freakout, similar to yours, when he opened his eyes. But then his memories of last night came back. Yours came back in pieces, while his came back in a rushing wave. You remembered suddenly wanting all of his attention and doing your best to get it, until your bandmate kept handing you vodka sodas and before you knew it you were hanging all over him the rest of the night. If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, you somehow got him to stay the night with you. And now here you were, tangled in your bedsheets.

Slowly, you looked up at him, trying to gage the situation. He looked down at you, the smallest hint of a smile ghosting across his lips. You found yourself staring at them. The feeling of his fingers trailing up your arm sent shivers down your spine, and heat rushed to your cheeks.

“Uh, hi…” You trailed off, absentmindedly tracing shapes along his abs, sometime last night his shirt had come off, leaving him in his boxers.

“Hey.” He smiled. His voice was deep and scratchy due to the lack of use overnight, his nerves didn’t help any.

“Coffee?” You asked after a pause and he chuckled lightly, nodding his head. You nodded back at him before pushing yourself out of bed and making your way to the kitchen. JJ wasn’t too far behind you, taking a seat on the other side of the island.

“So… last night was interesting…” He began, trying to get the conversation flowing.

“Yeah, uh. I was pretty fucking drunk so. I don’t really remember anything I said…” You admitted from where you stood at your keurig.

“Well, to sum it up, you told me to stop being such a try hard and you think I’m hot.”

“That sounds like something I would say, yeah.” The two laughed and another moment of silence fell on them.

“Well, I would be down to go out if you are…?” She said and JJ did his best to contain his excitement.

“Yeah, that’d be cool.” He said and she smiled, realizing she’d been right about him just faking the hard ass act to get her to like him.

#pop punk!jj #pop punk! y/n #pop punk jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #x reader #outer banks #obx #jj maybank x y/n #netflix #jj #jj maybank imagine #jj imagine #jj maybank x you #jj maybank blurb

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trellanyx · 4 years ago

Note

your jonathan crane (who i love so very much) and numbers 1 through... oh, lets say 25 ;)

(Send me a character and a number)

Have I told you how much I love you lately, Lizard? Because I do. Oh yes I do. 😂

Word vomiting about my Jon in 3, 2, 1...

1) Something this character is truly proud of.

His work, of course. Not just the toxin, but the breadth of his knowledge, his experiments, his successes and vengeances. Jonathan is an expert in his field, and considering what he went through to get there he’s damn proud of it.

2) Who they want to please the most.

Jonathan Crane does not give a single solitary fuck about what anyone thinks of him. The only satisfaction he cares about is his own. Considering how high his standards are, that’s a big enough challenge already.

3) Who depends on them.

No one. Jon may make you think you need him if that serves his end goal, but other than that he keeps his distance. If you’re in a position where you actually depend on Jonathan Crane’s services, you’re fucked.

4) What they would do if they had one month to live.

Work feverishly to A) preserve his work and B) push it as far as it can go before his body betrays him. Jon would be pulling such long, intense hours that it’s quite possible he’d drop dead before the month was up from sheer exhaustion. If he doesn’t, then he takes his magnum opus and goes out with a hell of a bang.

5) A cherished personal belonging.

Nothing. He has things he likes more than most: a tortoiseshell watch, a spring-loaded gun, his sturdiest boots, his sharpest scythe - the whole fear gauntlet, actually, impractical as it was - but nothing he’d go as far as to say he cherishes. Everything Jon owns is expendable, and no matter how attached he might be to something, there’s nothing he wouldn’t chuck in a fire instantly if he needed to.

6) Something they lost, but would love to have back.

“Unlimited access to test subjects wrapped in a stable paycheck. Arkham’s much more fun on the other side of the straitjacket.”

7) This character’s favorite character

I give up. It’s been days. Days that this post has sat in my drafts while I tried to think of this asshole’s favorite character, and I’ve got nothing. I’ve come up with a couple of disparate headcanons involving Jon and fiction in general, but I have no answer for this one. I offer this as a placeholder: “He doesn’t have any because he’s a contrary and insufferable bastard.”

8) What kind of car they would drive.

Dark, boring, older than sin. The gas pedal is the most abused piece of equipment in South Gotham. There’s a stain on the backseat floor that Jon says is coffee, and no one is brave enough to question him. Edward refuses to be seen dead in it. One day Jon’s gonna take that as a challenge.

9) What calms them when they are upset.

It really depends on the type of distress that it is. The basic scale is this:

Drumming his nails against things, or just tapping against the nearest flat surface if his nails aren’t long enough. (Common response to most grievances.)

Stepping outside for a smoke. He goes back inside when he either feels better or runs out of cigarettes.

Pacing inside or stalking through the streets like he’s on his way to kill somebody, taking small, petty pleasure watching people jump out of his way.

Stewing in a corner with a bottle of strong alcohol.

Actually killing somebody.

10) How they deal with pain.

Grits his teeth and bears it. The first lesson he ever learned.

11) This character’s favorite piece or pieces of clothing.

As Scarecrow: His plague doctor mask, which replaced the traditional burlap after he stopped being able to feel fear.

As Jon: Custom winter gloves with longer fingers to accommodate his nails in the winter.

12) How they sleep.

I’ve talked about this before, actually! Here’s the quote:

Since he suffers from chronic insomnia and chronic I Have No Idea What Healthy Habits Look Like, Jonathan doesn’t go to bed very often. He’s more likely to pass out wherever he is - couch, desk, once on a morgue slab (don’t ask)… But when he does sleep in a bed, he tosses and turns a ridiculous amount. It’s not that he’s having nightmares (though with the way he moves, how could you tell), he just has a hard time getting comfortable. He’ll turn over at least 3-6 times before falling asleep, and he’ll keep shifting even after he does. It’s very common for Jonathan to fall asleep with three blankets and wake up with only one.

13) What kind of parent they would be.

*hysterical laughter* NO.

14) How they did in school.

He struggled with it a lot. Not because of a lack of intelligence or drive, but because:

Constant undernourishment and late night punishments made it difficult for Jon to stay awake in class. (His insomnia didn’t develop until he was in his early 20s.)

His homework was often late or mediocre because Jon did it after being beaten or kept busy with his grandmother’s laborious demands, if he was in a state to do it at all.

Jon’s glasses were almost never up to date. Constant squinting compounded by what Jon now knows were chronic migraines made class not only difficult to concentrate on, but physically painful.

Bullying. I don’t think I need to elaborate there.

Jon barely eked out a GPA high enough to get him into a local community college with the help of a scholarship targeted toward low-income families. Once his grandmother and bullies “helpfully” left the picture and Jon could focus on eliminating the obstacles above, he threw himself into his studies like a man possessed, and by the time he graduated, he’d secured himself entry to a post-baccalaureate program in Gotham. He used that as a stepping stone to med school and the rest is history.

15) What cologne or perfume they would use.

Jon doesn’t like either. His only indulgence in the smell department is almond-scented soap.

16) Their sexuality.

It varies depending on what version of him I’m playing, but it’s always either bi or gay.

17) What they’d sing at karaoke.

Something slow, creepy and mournful, probably not even on the set list, while he stares at you unblinking and makes you regret every decision in your life that helped force him onstage. You don’t ask for an encore.

18) Special talents they have.

Jon is double-jointed, a great whistler, sews all his costumes and is an adequate mechanic. See the “should be dead twelve times over” car he still drives. He’s also a better swimmer than people give him credit for, something that’s saved his life more than once.

19) When they feel safest.

In front of a fireplace. Jon can’t really explain it, nor does it make sense considering how much he hates heat in general. But there’s something about sitting in front of a fire that really relaxes him. (Don’t bother with the scarecrow/fire jokes, he’s heard them all.)

20) Household chore they hate the most.

Bathrooms.

21) Their fondest childhood memory.

“Killing them.”

22) How they spend their money.

Books, chemicals, caffeine, alcohol, weapons. And then living essentials. Maybe. Depends on how low he is on nicotine. (Jon’s spending habits are so predictable it became a running joke on campus, what did you expect.)

23) What kind of alcohol they drink.

He’s not picky, but nothing beats a finely aged whiskey. He’s also partial to Black Russians.

24) What they wish they could change about themselves.

Useful as it can be, Jon regrets the loss of his ability to feel fear. He also wishes he didn’t get migraines so often. Nothing on the personality front, though: Jon knows what he is.

25) What other people wish they could change about them.

Oh honey, there’s not enough hours in the day to list all that.

#lizard-hair #batman #jonathan crane #my headcanons #ask #i hope it was worth the wait bb #again THANK YOU #i could talk about my version of this asshole all day long

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