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feral-dumbass · 3 years

Text

F*ck Me

James “Bucky” Barnes/ Female Reader

Summary: Bucky loses a bet and has to wear a maid dress. Neither of you expected you to be so into Bucky wearing it.

Includes: Bucky in a maid costume, Knife kink, ripping of clothes, Bondage, unprotected sex, brief mention of Bucky being turned on by glasses, Beefy!Bucky, use of vibrator (sharing of it too), manhandling, overstimulation (Possible dub-con because of it), dirty talk, unprotected sex, size kink, choking (with the metal arm)

Words: 4,103

A/N: Happy New Year! I finally actually finished a WIP. Bucky does wear a maid dress, so if you know me in real life, no you don’t. I just wrote a crack fic. Didn’t I? Title Credit to Vernon Jane. Tagging my friends @babybluestan @gagmebucky @heresyoursnackdumbass

Masterlist

It started off with a bet. Who could beat Thor at armwrestling? Cocky egos and bored minds don’t mix well. Quill and Steve both lost. Most men that weren’t gifted with super strength didn’t need that question answered. Bucky decided to join in on the camaraderie. Besides, if Steve lectures Bucky team bonding one more time, he’s gonna lose it.

Everything was fine until Tony couldn’t stop talking. Out on a personal vendetta ever since you and Bucky took Stark’s Audi out for joyride and put the most miniscule dent on the hood, Tony suggested more than money. If Bucky lost, he’d have to follow Thor around in a maid’s costume at the next compound party with the team and vice versa. Thor and Bucky were already sitting across from each other at the table when Tony announced it. It was too late to back out now. With Clint cheering on the statement and Steve starting to mother hen, Bucky said fuck it. Thor even let him use his bionic fucking metal arm. How bad could it be?

Bucky was wrong. Bucky was so very wrong. Never make a bet about strength with a God. The gears and plates of his arm buzzed from the tension underneath the sound of the men choosing their sides and cheering them on. Even though Bucky put up a good fight, he lost and probably needs to kiss Tony’s ass to make sure the processors are still functioning. Thor has a good grip.

The package arrived at your doorstep Thursday, just in time for the party on Friday. You were the one to place it on the kitchen table. You were sympathetic to Bucky’s predicament after a good laugh. The offending package sat there for the next twenty-four hours, Bucky avoiding it like the plague. It’s not that Bucky hates it per say, it’s just a clothing item for fuck’s sake. He just hates the fact he’ll never hear the end of it.

He expresses the same fact exactly to you as he tears open the package in the bathroom. He tries on the maid dress while you wait patiently for him on the bed. Bucky manages to zip himself and stare at himself in the mirror. Bucky sighs at the sight. For a genius, Stark is really bad at guessing sizes. Bucky is practically busting at the seams. “Damnit.”

“Aww. C’mon out, Bucky. I’m sure it’s not-” You try to assuage Bucky as your eyes never leave the latest gossip magazine of the Avengers. At the sound of the bathroom door creaking open, you look up. Momentarily stunned, you forget your words. Magazine long forgotten. “Oh- oh my god.”

“I know. This feels indecent.” Bucky crosses his arms underneath his chest and your mouth waters.

“No, Bucky, not in that way.” You didn’t expect Bucky to look this good in frilly black and white. The bands of the poofy sleeves strain against his bulging biceps. The bust also straining against his pecs. The dress is so short the bottom of Bucky’s black boxers peak out. Not to mention, Bucky has his emotional support knife strapped to his thigh. You wish you could be surprised you’d fuck him like this, but then again, he is Bucky Barnes. “It’s not that bad.” You slur your words a bit, still focused on the band stressed around Bucky’s biceps. You lick your lips and suck the bottom one in between your teeth.

“Wait, is this actually working for you?” Bucky ducks down so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. No point in beating around the bush. Act coy and you might never get to see him like this again.

“Would you judge me if I said yes?”

“A little bit. Yeah.” You shrug. It’s not like the nerd hasn’t asked you to wear glasses while you give him head. Different strokes for different folks.

“Would you wear it in bed?”

Bucky lets out a surprised laugh and shakes his head. “Keep looking at me like you wanna eat me alive and I’ll wear anything for you.” He strides over to you, pulls your hair so you look up at him, and kisses you with blazing passion. This is fine. You’re more than happy to give Bucky a few minutes of happiness before he spends the whole night brooding. Bucky barely separates from you. “We can skip the party and I’ll wear it in bed for you right now?” His lips brush against yours as you stare at him with heavy lidded eyes.

“Stark will probably conduct a man hunt and it’s probably best no one see what I have in store for you.”

“Please, do share your plans.”

“I was thinking we could bring out the nylon ropes. I tie you to the headboard and have my way with you.” Even with his hair half up in bun, pieces of his hair fell out. You tuck a brown piece of his hair behind his ear as he swallows thickly and groans.

“Are you sure we have to go?” You nod as a grin slowly spreads across your face. “Give me ten minutes before we go to my personal hell.” Bucky walks back into the bathroom, trying to fix the growing bulge in his boxers.

The party is going surprisingly well, Bucky being less broody than usual. Turns out when you’re girlfriend promises to ride you into the mattress, your mood lightens. Bucky’s smirk has been laced with secrecy all night. It probably doesn’t help that you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off him, flashing him fuck me eyes everytime he caught you. By the fifth time Bucky caught your eye, Tony had enough.

“Oh my god, you guys look like your two seconds away from fucking eachother in front of us.” Tony complains.

Bucky shrugs in all his maid dress glory. “I wouldn’t mind.” Bucky looks to you for confirmation.

“Uh, hey, no. This isn’t fun anymore. It’s getting weird. You lost your party privilege. Leave before I order both of you a psych eval on Monday.” Tony pretends like Pepper hasn’t told you things three margaritas in. Fine, he can act all pure and mighty all he wants. You’re forced with the knowledge Tony is a good submissive for Pepper.

“Thank God.” Bucky is ushering you to the elevators before you can say something witty back to Stark. Once in the elevator, Bucky incessantly presses the door closing button.

“Pressing the button ten times doesn’t make the elevator work faster.” The elevator hates you and starts closing as you speak.

“You were saying?” Bucky backs you up against the elevator and ducks down to kiss you which eventually turns into making out. He lifts you up by the back of your thighs as he deepens the kiss. He moves his kisses down to your neck, sucking hickeys into your skin in between kisses. Pressed in between the wall and Bucky, you’re forced to feel all of him, rutting his quickly hardening bulge into you. You’re like 99% sure Bucky is ready to fuck you in the elevator. Security cameras be damned. It wouldn’t be the wildest place you had sex and you’re about ready to help drop your pants until you remember your plans. You rake your hands through his hair, grab a nice hindfull, and pull, taking his lips off your skin.

“Bucky.” You whine with a pout of your lips. His eyes track the movement of your spit-shined lips, too entranced to look you in the eyes just yet. “You agreed to let me tie you up and I’m holding you to it.” The elevator dings with the arrival of your floor.

Bucky smashes his lips against yours for a quick kiss. After he separates, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I spoil you.” It’s his only response before he’s carrying you to the bedroom.

Managing to make-out with you and kick the bedroom door open, Bucky sits down on the edge of the bed. Your legs are forced to spread wider to accommodate his thick thighs, the knife strapped to him digging into your inner own.

“You’re wearing too much clothes.” Bucky tugs on your shirt.

“Maybe you should help me with that.” Before you can finish your sentence, Bucky is pulling your shirt up. You finish pulling it over your head, flinging it onto the bedroom floor, as Bucky works on unfastening your jeans. Bucky pauses his task at the sight of bare skin. He groans deep within his chest. So maybe you wore Bucky’s favorite lingerie set, navy blue and semi opaque. You’re even wearing slutty panties to match. You were hoping to get railed tonight even before the maid dress was introduced into your life.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gorgeous.” His hands travel to your breasts kneading them through the flimsy material. Goosebumps break out underneath Bucky’s calloused touch. His stubble scratches as he kisses the swell of each breast before gently dragging his hands back down to your pants. You duck down to kiss him as he snakes his hand into the back of your pants, squeezing handfuls of ass. “Well, are you ready to be in charge, baby?”

“Please.” You push Bucky on his back and hop off his lap. You slide a chest out from underneath the bed and get out a couple objects of interest including the nylon rope. Bucky moves to the center of the bed as you take off your pants. You crawl onto the bed and Bucky. He meets you halfway for a kiss, his hand on the back of your head.

“Did ya wear all this just to torment me? Knowing I won’t be able to touch you is driving me crazy.”

“I will admit I didn’t wear this with bondage in mind. You ripping my underwear off with your teeth is more of what I was thinking, but I’m flexible.”

Bucky’s chest rumbled. “I’m aware.” With darkening eyes, Bucky lets you maneuver his arms up to the bedpost and tie him to it. Of course, it helps he has a perfect view of your cleavage dangling just a few inches from his face. Once you’re done tying him up, you kiss his cheek.

“Remember your colors, baby boy?” You ask him in between kisses on his neck, nipping at the skin. It’s a line Bucky has used on you so many times and now it’s your turn to use. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your color? These too tight?” You tug on the binds wrapped around.

“So fucking green. They’re not too tight. Although, I’d be a lot better if you were on my cock right now.” You suck a hickey into his neck.

“It’s cute you think you’re still calling the shots.” You grind down onto him, your eyes fluttering at the feel of the sweet friction, but Bucky doesn’t need to know that. You blow on the hickey and Bucky shudders underneath you. You sit up to admire your handiwork. His eyes are lust-filled. A hint of a rosy flush decorates his cheeks and chest. Bucky’s arms flex at your incessant grinding.

“Please, wanna be in you.” He ruts his hips up, adding more friction. You bump into the handle of his knife, reminding you it’s there. You reach behind you and unsheathe the knife. Bucky’s knife glints as you take note of it.

“Tell me, Bucky. Are you invested in your outfit?”

“Oh my god, please. Destroy it.” He stares up at you with such awestruck devotion. You lift up the skirt and cut through the torso of the dress. Bucky lets out an whorish moan even for him. His chest and abs out on open display and your mouth waters. As much as you loved seeing Bucky in the maid dress, this is fun too. You slowly drag the tip of the knife gently down his abdomen, muscles flexing under the cool touch of metal.The sounds of a rip makes you pause. You check and sure enough Bucky’s bulging metal bicep has ripped through the band of the dress.

“Holy shit, I love you.” You smash your lips onto his for a messy kiss. Bucky is more than eager to slip his tongue into your mouth. You pull away when you need to breath and work on Bucky’s sleeve. The previous rip already making the cheap material easy to shred. You make the rip reach the slice you made and use the knife for the other sleeve. You put it back in it’s sheathe. Bucky maneuvers to the best of his ability so you can pull the maid dress out from underneath him. You pull his boxers down. His red and leaking cock hit his stomach. You grab the vibrator off the edge of the bed and turn it on it’s lowest setting. You drag the vibrator up and down the underside of his cock. He shouts out, muscles tensing at the stimulation. Just as quickly as you were touching him, you’ve stopped. You move the vibrator off him as you grin, bringing the vibrator to your clit through your slutty panties. You lose yourself in the vibrations before Bucky speaks out gruffly.

“Watch it, sweetheart. Whatever you do to me, I can do to you.” Your response is to turn up the setting on the vibrator and moan out. “Oh, c’mon, don’t you want my dick?” He rocks his hips up. “You can act like a tease all you want, but we both know you love leaking with my cum. You just love being filled to the brim as I fuck you through both of our orgasms.” You whimper out his name. “Yeah, honey, you were made to take this cock. Do such good job of it too. C’mon, please. Jus’ wanna feel you cum around me. That stupid piece of plastic can’t make you cum as hard as I can.” You thought you were slut for Bucky Barnes and that was before you heard his gravely begging underneath you. A whole new wave of want rushes through your veins and your shutting off the vibrator. Your hand pumps his dick a few times, leaking so much you don’t even need lube to touch him.

“Fuck!” Bucky repeatedly chants as you finally grab the base of him and slide him into your entrance, panties pushed to the side. Bucky is gargantuan. He always is at the first slide. Your walls need a few seconds to accommodate him. During the time, Bucky’s muscles tense as he pants. He can’t do anything, but feel you. No outlet for the pent up energy he’s been harboring. He is literally so pretty, you can feel a heartbeat in your lower muscles. You grind on his dick, testing your limits. He groans. “Baby, I’m gonna you to-.” Bucky’s encouragement is cut off with a deep groan as you lift yourself off Bucky’s cock, tip just outside your entrance, and falling back on it. Bucky can’t stop his curses and groans as you do it again and again, eventually setting a nice pace for yourself. You ride Bucky’s dick in earnest. Closer than you realized with the previous vibrator and his dirty talk, you move in a way that feels good for you. Bucky’s pleasure an afterthought. With a hand pressed against his pectoral, you rock against him. You close your eyes and bite your lip, bringing your other hand to rub your clit.

“Oh my god, are you gonna cum already? How’s my cock feel, sweetheart? Such a cockslut, you’re already close. Look at me.” Bucky rocks his hips up as you drop down, causing you to gasp out his name. “Look. At. Me.” You open your eyes to glare down at him. You hands slides up to wrap around his thick neck. You can feel his racing pulse underneath your fingertips.

“I swear if you ruin this for me, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? What will you do?” Bucky waits for a response. You can’t, too tongue tied as your peak gets closer and closer. “That’s what I thought. Now be a good cockslut and cum on my cock.” You double down on your efforts until you’re cumming. Pleasure rolls up your spine. You’re movement falters as you get lost in your orgasm. Before you know it, you’re on your back, you’re supposed tied up boyfriend on top of you. Bucky picks up your slack, fucking you at a brutal pace through your orgasm.

“Wait, Bucky. How?” You brain tries to catch up as he gathers your wrists in his metal hand and pins them to the bed above your head.

“You need to get better at tying, baby. Didn’t even have to break the restraints. They fell apart halfway through.”

“Fuck.” The word you use is long and drawn out, arching your hips to meet Bucky’s thrusts. Having a supersoldier underneath you to use at your indiscretion was fun, but there truly is something about letting Bucky take the reins, rippling muscles of caged energy pressed against you. Bucky’s thrusts slow as his free hand searches for something on the bed. With a victorious grin, Bucky is turning on the vibrator at a higher setting than you previously had it. He slides it between your bodies to rest on your clit. The flimsy lace of your stretched out panties does nothing to barricade the pleasure.

“You’ll cum for me, again. Right?” You curse his name, trying to buck away from the vibrator. The vibrations are too much for your sensitive clit. Bucky is persistent, keeping the vibrator pressed against your clit.

“Fuck, Bucky. Please. Please. Please.” It’s your turn to repeat words, not exactly sure what your begging for. You just know the pleasure is almost too much. With the combination of Bucky’s girthy cock and the vibrator, it’s not long before you’re coming. Your muscles shake as your orgasm hits you. You moan until your voice runs hoarse. He keeps the vibrator on your clit until your orgasm is done.

“Love it when you cum. Wish I could be in this pussy all day.” Bucky lets go of your wrist and cups your cheek tenderly. He ducks down for a filthy kiss, tongue included. Your muscles feel weighted, but you manage to match Bucky’s enthusiasm in his kiss. Before you can register it, your brain a little fuzzy from the two orgasms, you’re facing the sheets on your stomach. His cocks slips out during the commotion. Bucky lifts your upper half to lean against him so you’re on your knees, using his own knees to spread them. You head rolls down.

You share the same qualities as a rag doll right now, joints weak and ears still ringing from your orgasm. Not that it’s stopping Bucky. Facing down, you get to witness Bucky’s angry, leaking, and glistening with your cum erection extending practically past your belly button as he ruts against your sex. Electric shocks are sent to your nervous system everytime Bucky manages to make contact with your clit. Your only thought is you want him to destroy you with his dick as he wraps his metal arm around your neck, head now resting against his clavicle.

“Remember your colors, baby girl? What’s your color?” Bucky’s voice is in a low, hushed tone. His lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. You eyes flutter shut, hands moving to hold on to his forearm wrapped around your neck.

“Green.” Even with your hazy mind and heavy tongue, you manage to answer Bucky. He presses a quick, stubbly kiss to your temple before turning his attention to your underwear.

“These are unnecessary.” He grabs ahold the triangle of lacey material of your underwear and pulls. It doesn’t take much of Bucky’s strength for the strings of your underwear to snap. He throws the offending clothing over his shoulder. He flips his bowie knife out of the sheath strapped to his thigh. Bucky fucked the knife out of your memory. Goosebumps erupt onto your skin as he gently traces the knife’s tip up your stomach to slip underneath the band of your bra. “I’ll buy you a new set.” He says before slicing through the band of your bra with a flick of his wrist. You gasp out and Bucky slices through the straps too. He flips his knife into the sheath and throws your bra away from you.

“Want your cock, Bucky. Please.”

“How could I say no to such pretty begging? I can’t let the cockslut be hungry for too long, now. Can I?” You can feel Bucky reaching his hand down over your abdomen and then the next thing you know, you’re being filled to the brim with cock. Okay, fuck what you said about the first slide. You’re pretty sure you could cum again at this slide. With your fucked out brain, there is so much of Bucky. Bucky sliding his cock in slow sure doesn’t help either. Bucky groans right next to your ear. It’s almost a sensory overload. You haven’t even registered you’re moaning yourself. Bucky finally- finally bottoms out, giving you time to catch your shuddering breath. “You still with me?”

You manage to rasp out an affirmative.

“Good girl.” And then Bucky is pulling out and thrusting in. You manage to get out a curse at the friction before Bucky truly starts to thrust into you. His pace picks up quickly. His powerful thighs slam into your slick ones as he rumbles deep within his chest. You can feel it throughout your whole torso. “Addicted to this pussy. Love how you feel around me.” Bucky moves his right hand to rub your abused clit. You grab ahold of his wrist. Bucky’s too stong to move his hand off your clit. You’re forced to feel the all the pleasure he gives you.

“Aww, c’mon. You can cum for me one more time.” Bucky tucks his nose behind your ear and kisses underneath it. He changes the angle of his rubs and your thighs start to shake. “There you go, sweetheart. Just one more.” Bucky’s metal bicep bulges making it a little harder to breathe as he thrusts faster. The two previous orgasms make you sensitive. In just a few meager minutes, you can feel the rise of your orgasm. This orgasm hits you harder than the previous two. The pleasure takes you over in waves. Your thighs shake as Bucky fucks you through it. He moans louder than you sounding like he enjoys you’re orgasm almost as much as you. He finally notices your fingers digging into his skin and stops rubbing your clit.

“God, baby. I’m so close. Gonna let me use you?”

You nodd.

“Say it.”

“Use me. Wanna feel you cum in me.” You rasp out with an even heavier mind. Bucky lets out a whorish moan as his thrusts get even more energetic. It shouldn’t be possible, but then you wouldn’t be dating a super soldier. Within just a few more thrusts, you can feel Bucky flood your insides. He groans as he slows down to prolong his orgasm. Bucky was hot before, but he’s even hotter as he coming. The only thing you dislike about this position is not being able to see Bucky’s abs contract as he cums. You can still feel his abs jump against you lower back. Bucky’s thrusts eventually die down until he’s just bottomed out in you. He takes a minute to catch his breath before he uncurls his arm off your throat, keeping his right hand on your hip to steady you.

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he gently slips out and sets you on the bed.

“Tired.”

“I know and you can rest in a bit, but we gotta get cleaned up first.” You groan at that. “C’mon, baby. I’ll grab the washcloth.” The smile in Bucky’s voice is prominent as he gets out of bed. You can hear him rummaging around in the attached bathroom as you rest your eyes. You fall asleep before Bucky can bring out the warm wet washcloth. He still wipes you down while you’re half asleep before joining you back in bed.

Bucky will be there in the morning to massage out your sore muscles because Bucky is a good boyfriend. And if you happen to order the same maids dress the next day only to leave it in the exact same spot the previous package was in, Bucky doesn’t bring it up. He just adds it to the back of his closet when you’re not looking.

#the knife stays ON during sex and I think thats the most Bucky thing I’ve ever written #Mel if you’re reading this I failed at making sub!Bucky 😔#Looks like I'll have to try again #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky/ reader #bucky barnes/ reader #bucky barnes/ you #bucky barnes barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #maybe overstimulation will become my trademark #if this is bad you never read it #my writing

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dayseternal-blog · 3 years

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Summary: Hinata gives Naruto candy on Valentine’s, and he develops a crush early-on. An Alpha/Omega fic.

Pairing: Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto

Written for @naruto-smut-monday 2021 - February Prompt: Sweet as Candy / Love Bites.

(This is many months late, so I carry no expectations for the event moderators to reblog this 😓)

Rated E for really explicit, kinky smut!

Sweet and rich.

Her usual milkiness pitching lower and bolder.

The familiar scent of her heat fills his lungs with each gasp against her lips, tugging at his heart, enticing each shove of himself into her soft folds.

She breaks the kiss with a tortured moan that rolls through his heightened, rutting senses. Her face turns, exposing the broken, shining gland at her neck once more.

His mark still looks fresh from their aggressive first round. He had awoken from their fitful rest with Hinata eagerly sucking him off in the dead of the night. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when they finally fell back asleep in cuddling, knotted exhaustion.

His tongue catches the liquid caramel at her gland, just as sweet as her scent, and gently, he gnaws into her sensitive neck to release more for him to drink as she squeals, slick flowing around his swelling piece, nudging deeper and deeper.

“Hinata…” Clawing pleasure skips along his skin, shimmering in his veins with each suck against the abused claim.

“Ah...Alpha...”

He doesn’t need her breathy Omega voice to encourage him, not when her snug passage is readily opening up to accommodate his urgent thrusts, his hands gripping her flared hips still as he impales her hurriedly until she’s wrapped entirely around his knot, stuck and breathlessly screaming for him. “You wanted this again, yeah?”

She nods enthusiastically, the bob of her chin frantic like the shake of her large breasts. Tears of pain and pleasure glint along her dark lashes and pink cheeks, her little tongue teases him as she gasps from puffy lips, tracks of his saliva and her leaking scent gland glimmer in the mid-morning sun. His usually proper and demure wife is a beautiful mess on his rigid cock, soaking wet for him, the excellent sight filling his inner, lusting beast with possessive pride.

“Look at you,” he groans, slipping mindlessly into his secondary gender, “my pretty Omega, living for my knotted dick, acting all cute for my cum.”

She wiggles beneath him with an affectionate gasp, and he’s grinding hard into her until her glassy eyes squeeze shut, more tears escaping.

He leans down to lick each one up, the saltiness making him grab at the top of her head to turn her intoxicating gland toward him so that he can drink her in, her heady, rich taste invading his senses.

She squirms beneath him.

Her legs squeeze at his waist.

Blunt fingernails pinch into his back.

Tight nipples push into his chest and smooth stomach arches into him.

Plush flesh clenches around his knot, coaxing his release. Her hot breath ghosts over his bicep, prickling his skin with a begging, “Please, please, please-”

And he’s coming before he can even consider holding back, throbbing into her humidity, smearing his own broken gland against her lips until she’s sucking everything out of him, his whole body and soul yearning, pulsing into her welcoming, soft comfort. Take all of me.

For only a blissful second, his mind feels empty, his Alpha terribly pleased and sated.

She paints a small strip with her tongue at his gland, and the beast reawakens.

He’s fucking his cum into her, stirring into her weeping flesh, his knot plugging her up so that she’s awfully sloppy around his dick, a rumbling in his chest as she clings to him, her face buried in his neck, her warm tongue still licking cutely at him. “Hinata, you need more, don’t you?”

“Naruto-kun,” she sighs, “mhmm…”

So this is what it’s like to share their heat and rut, their tempos finally coinciding after their first bonded year.

He’d imagined it was never-ending sex, the idea both arousing and concerning, but experiencing it leaves him trembling with honest delight and, more than anything else, sincere love. Of course, it’s an overwhelming desire to impregnate her, to make her whole body and life undeniably his, something that’s normal in his rut anyway, but with her very much unprotected body so willing and ready, so much slick to ease his knot into her over and over again without worry, it’s as if every part of them is shared, synced and in tune, eager to please and enjoy each other.

He can’t even begin to consider separating himself from her at the end of these five or so days, can’t at all recall what his daily life is like outside of their home.

Not when her hazy eyes are lowered in an expression of come-hither lust, all hints of his usual shy, reserved wife forgotten with his stiff piece warm and wet, pushing against her cervix. Her fingers dance over his arm muscles, massaging over the back of his shoulders, and tunneling into his hair.

He nudges his face into her neck, inhaling her scent deeply as new attraction rushes fast and hard into his knot, as if he hadn’t been excited the whole time.

“Fill me up, my love,” she whispers, her moist clit sliding at his groin, and that voice intones, breathier and lower, “my sweet Alpha.”

Shivers run up his spine, his hips straining at her more insistently, tight flesh tugging at his knot as he tries to ram himself deeper into her. Memories of his thick seed dribbling down her thighs from past ruts morph into images of her stomach swollen with their child. They’ve prepared for this week for a couple of months now after their last rut and heat nearly overlapped, only for one incredible day that convinced both of them they needed more in their marriage. After the nine day ordeal of caring for each other's needs, they had visited their doctors, Hinata had taken out her birth control, and then they had reviewed tips on self- and partner-care for acclimated bonds.

All their preparation is flying out the window of his mind now.

They’re supposed to clean up after this? The wet wipes seem completely unnecessary, and he lets her know he has no intention of using them. “Gonna cover you in my scent, no other Alpha will even dare to look at you.”

She nods, a lovely, dazed smile curling her kiss-swollen lips. Soft, agreeing moans soothe the aggression simmering low in his gut, turning his lust into appreciative hunger.

They’re supposed to eat that microwavable shit? Isn’t Hinata’s body enough for him? His hands sink into her fluffy tits, squeezing and playing, whetting his appetite with her delicious curves. And isn’t he enough? “Only going to feed you my knot, keep you full of cum. You can eat my hard dick whenever you want.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes...” Adoring, pearly eyes gaze up at him even through her tortured gasps.

He smashes her into the bed, one hand clutching her round ass desperately as the other tangles into her hair. Her needy kisses are just as much tongue as his, their lips sucking on each other avidly.

Ecstasy slides through his veins, blooming over his mind, cocooning him in pleasant sensations, cum shooting out in eager twitches against hot, milking flesh.

He’s left panting into the pillow, the material doing little to stop her rich smell of satisfaction from drawing him back to lick at the abused flesh of his claim on her, her body shivering uncontrollably and enticingly beneath him, teasing his body and mind with the taste of her sweet, sweet dew.

Everything about her has always been sweet to him.

From her scent to her smile, her kiss, and her touch. The glow in her eyes, just for him, to her intimate voice.

The way she always tries to understand him and is there to support him.

He’s wondered if they were made for each other, the strength of their connection at times so overwhelming that he could cry.

They were taught in school that mating isn’t decided, not like some spiritual concept of soulmates, but that potential bonded relationships are cultivated carefully over time.

However, significant inclinations may form from way before either party presents.

He thinks he’s been inclined to her from the moment she handed him, a random elementary schoolmate in the hallway, not even in the same class as her, one of her extra giri chocolates on Valentine’s Day. She handed a couple of other boys she passed on the way an extra chocolate, too, but he didn’t care. He crushed on her fast and easily, his heart swayed by nearly any kind gesture from a girl. Having one more chocolate than his friends was something he bragged about right away in pretend nonchalance, saying that a girl from another class gave it especially to him.

His fleeting feelings might have ended there if he weren’t in her class the following year, if she hadn’t handed out giri chocolates again, if she hadn’t noticeably blushed pink and whispered, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Naruto-kun,” or if he hadn’t found out his little baggie of chocolates had one more heart-shaped piece than Sasuke’s baggie…it was a small win compared to all the unappreciated honmei chocolates Sasuke received, but Naruto took what he could get.

Maybe his little school crush would have ended there if she had stopped handing out giri chocolates to boys in intermediate school, the way most girls did when they started presenting, when she wore her skirt as long as was acceptable by school dress code, sweaters over her button-down uniform, and simple blue ribboned chokers to cover as much skin as possible, when the mystery of her designation tickled the back of his mind whenever she was near, but he had no way of knowing, especially with their sex education steering hard by-the-book on disease, protection, and, most of all, consent, rather than humoring their curiosities about individual designations and tell-tale personality traits.

He and the boys in their class still got giri chocolates from her despite how so many of them acted like annoying idiots, and he knew he wasn’t the only one who liked that thoughtful sweetness about her. He also knew he was the only one who had one more chocolate than the others, or, at least, one more than Kiba.

“Let me see,” he’d say mid-grab, stealing the bag from Kiba’s hand.

“What the fuck, why are you always trying to take mine, you have your own!”

His eyes strained to swiftly count the number of adorable handmade, heart-shaped chocolates through the dark purple plastic, her level of effort making even giri chocolates feel incredibly special. 5.

“They’re all the same every year, fucktard.” Kiba snatched it away. “But you better not have broken any.”

His bag, for the third year in a row, had 6, and his cheeks flushed with wonder, a self-satisfied grin breaking out. “I was just checking. It really is the same every year. Isn’t it great?” He popped a chocolate in his mouth, pushing back the overly gleeful thought that it could all mean something more than a coincidental mistake.

Their third, last year of intermediate school, he expected it. A bag of six chocolates, just for him. And with only her characteristic small, shy smile, she handed him his gift, and he grinned hugely to cover up his nerves. “Thanks, Hinata!”

She bowed her head and hurried to the next boy in the room.

And he counted. 6. His gaze flickered up to her back, wondering, the seed of his suspicions sprouting awfully strong. What if these chocolates are actually honmei? She’s just too shy-

His bag was ripped from his grip.

He whipped around, eyes wide, staring up at Kiba’s exuberant smile.

“I gotcha first this time!”

“Kiba!” he shouted, his arm swinging up, but Kiba pulled it back just in time. Scenarios flew through his mind, all of him humiliatingly chasing his friend around the classroom for a little bag of giri chocolates, and Naruto quickly decided to play it cool. “Give it back, man.”

Kiba ignored him, making an elaborate show of scrutinizing the bag. “I was just checking-ttebayo,” he mocked when he did a double-take. “Whaaat, you got 6?! That’s not fair!” He checked his own bag. “I only have 5!”

His heart stopped. His gaze flashed to Hinata.

She was staring at them.

Panicking, he turned away. “...Really?! Cool!” he spit out in feigned surprise. “Maybe she just doesn’t like you as much! Give it back before you break one.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. How could she like you more than me?” Kiba tossed the bag at him, and Naruto grabbed it harder than he should have, the chocolates knocking together in his stressed hand.

Blood rushed hot through his system, but he was desperately trying to appear unaffected. “You probably smell like dog!”

Kiba clicked his tongue at that, then looked directly at the girl in question. “Hinata, do I smell like dog??!”

Naruto hesitated to look at her, but when he finally did, she was already falling to the floor.

The blame ultimately fell on Kiba for her fainting incident, since he asked such an obtrusive question like that, but somehow, Naruto couldn’t help but think it to be his fault, that he had failed some kind of test, messed up a secret game, and couldn’t protect something special that was only meant for him to know.

Wondering attraction maybe could have ended there, at the start of high school, when gossip about Sakura, pretty and sassy spitfire of a girl, and her rumored, unexpected Omega designation ran rampant around their grade level. The idea that someone so fiery and untouchable could be secretly emotional and clingy attracted many of the boys who were starting to show symptoms of presenting, such as starting to differentiate the scents of the girls in the class.

Though Naruto himself couldn’t smell anything from anyone, that didn’t stop him from imagining the athletic, rosy-haired girl, wondering what about her smell made her so desirable to some of the presenting boys… Whenever she was near, he focused his senses as much as he could, but nothing.

Hinata didn’t pass out giri chocolates that year to his great disappointment.

He shrugged it off, understanding that it’s seen by most as a childish or seemingly flirtatious tradition, that Kiba’s noisiness last year made her change her mind, that maybe his extra chocolate was a mistake of coincidence the last four years. He’d rather jump off the second-floor window than ask her if there was any meaning to it, so he decided to pay no mind to it, and he would have, but…

When she smelled like chocolate, sweet like a candy store, the next day, and he thought maybe she was a day late. Maybe she was still passing out chocolates to everyone, even though he couldn’t see any large bag, making him wonder if she had stuffed her sweater pockets and clothes full of chocolate. His temperature ran high, adrenaline racing through his heart whenever she walked even slightly in his direction, hoping for something from her that never came, and for days after, he was glaringly upset at how she definitely made chocolate, a whole lot of chocolate, and didn’t give him any.

Two months later, he began to understand that she just smelled like that, like she dumped chocolate perfume on her clothes, and some days just a dab, but either way it clouded his mind and made his stomach flip-flop anxiously, made him feel impatient and antsy beneath his skin, and he couldn’t take his irrational frustration anymore.

“Hinata, why do you always smell like that?” His tone was much more accusing than he meant it to be, but it was too late.

She was frozen a few paces between his desk and Ino’s, her angelically light eyes wide, her fair skin tinting pink as she looked back at him, and that chocolate smell amplifying with a strange tinge of citrusy unknowns. “...Huh?”

His face scrunched up in equal confusion at her seemingly innocent ignorance. “I don’t know, like, you smell really swee-”

Realization struck him hard before Sakura’s fist to the back of his head. “Naruto! What the hell do you think you’re asking her!”

“Ah fuck!” He clasped the back of his head and bowed on his desk in pain, partially to shield from any more hits, partially to hide his beet-red face.

Ino and Sakura were yelling at him, calling him a pervert and that they should report him, but his mind zeroed in on Hinata’s soft voice, asking him if he was okay, saying that she was completely fine, that it’s really okay and that she wasn’t going to report him.

His heart was pumping rapidfire, embarrassed heat crawling like a poison through his veins until he could swear he was hot to the touch, even the tips of his ears felt like they were burning, and he tried to hunch his shoulders to hide it.

He had been scenting her.

Everyday for the past two months.

Focusing on hers alone as if she was the only girl in the room.

Yet he hadn’t realized it at all.

If his feelings could have changed after that, it would’ve taken a whole lot of rejection on her end. She easily consumed his thoughts even when he didn’t want to think about her. Even when he actively tried to find someone else’s scent to enjoy, like Ino’s spring and fresh floral or Sakura’s berry and soda pop, but he ended up forgetting them with her near, ended up fazing into some kind of sparkling clarity, fuzzy around the edges yet Hinata in the center of it all, his eyes settling onto the wide ribbon peeking over her uniform’s collar as he sat at the back of the classroom and her in the front.

He noticed every time she fidgeted with the ribbon, he noticed how her scent strengthened into something darker and exciting on various occasions, but then how she’d be gone from school for days at a time, just like some of the other matured girls and boys. Her extended absence after such impactful scents left him utterly bored and empty at school.

Then at home, he couldn’t contain his imagination, recalling her coloring scent, her fingers pressing over the choker at her hidden gland. What might she be doing right now? Maybe at this very moment, she was comforting herself in a nest of pillows and blankets, using toys to mimic his penetration, maybe calling his name as she writhed in heat before passing out with an exhausted afterglow…?

The last Sports Festival of their high school careers saw lots of students pairing up. The adrenaline rush of the special competitions fueled love confessions every day up until the last moments of the final afternoon. He longed for a confession.

His eyes kept sliding toward her.

Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail throughout most of the festival, her simple white sports shirt and standard black shorts revealing her arms, legs, and the shape of her body.

Undeniably, he liked her. Despite not knowing either of their designations, despite rarely talking to her, he couldn’t stop admiring her perfection, his eyes capturing as much as he could commit to memory before he had to look away, so as not to stare.

But sometimes he wouldn’t look away fast enough, their eyes would awkwardly meet, and she’d blush and look away first. He’d focus determinedly somewhere else, yet inwardly, just as he always had, he’d wonder if there was any meaning in her looks, or if it was just coincidence, if those extra chocolates from their childhood were just coincidence, if he was just leading himself on in a sick and doomed game that he imagined all by himself.

He never got a confession.

But it seemed like Hinata did.

A snowy-haired boy from another class kept visiting her during breaks, talking to her from the sliding window between the hallway and the classroom, leaning over the sill to smile at her, obviously basking in her directed attention and the way she familiarly called him, “Toneri-kun.”

Silently jealous, all he could do was watch and listen, pretend to pay attention to the people around him and not his crush getting stolen away by some guy he could’ve sworn he had never seen before.

Three tedious weeks later, Toneri got bold and invited her out during lunch. As soon as she left the room, he stood up and followed after them, not even knowing exactly why he needed to dig his wound any deeper, only that he had to witness this himself, confirm the status of their relationship himself, otherwise he’d drive himself crazy in the classroom with speculation.

It was easy to follow from a distance. Her scent had long since invaded his memory. So what struck him first was the slightly sour notes marring her sweetness, kind of like before a class oral presentation.

She was anxious.

They stopped behind a school building, and he leaned against the wall around the corner, straining to hear their conversation.

“...Toneri-kun?”

Hinata’s voice was easy for him to pick up, and he didn’t question this realization, it was just further proof to him of his doomed infatuation.

“...I’m sorry, I tried,” she murmured.

Naruto assumed the pauses were when Toneri spoke, but they were all indistinct tones.

“I, I just don’t think...I can see you that way...I’m sorry...”

Everything in him began relaxing, the awful clenching around his heart suddenly released, and he collapsed to the ground in a crouch, not even actively trying to listen anymore.

“Because I...I like someone.”

His eyes shot open, adrenaline rushing at her words, and only one question ringing in his mind, Who?!

“I, I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that.”

Silence followed, and he started to back away, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping on what obviously was a sound rejection.

“Toneri-kun?...No, I, I, no-!” The panic was unmistakable, her sweetness drastically souring, and he was back at the corner, straining to understand what could possibly be going on now.

A whispered “Naruto-kun-”,

And he was around the corner running, shock exploding at seeing Toneri bent too close to her, nose at her neck, Hinata backed against the building wall. His body slammed into Toneri hard enough to make him fall to the ground.

“Hinata!” He looked at her, checking to see that her ribbon was still secure, that she appeared unharmed, but he felt like he was going to suffocate, air not making it past his throat, a building panic and disgust roaring loudly in his core that had him turning back around to direct this somewhere, his excessive anger pinpointing Toneri, red coloring his vision too fast for him to comprehend the confused expression on the splayed boy.

He jumped on him, his fist connecting with Toneri’s face fast and hard, the knock of his white head against the ground deeply satisfying his suddenly justified instincts, and he raised his fist again to drive his point home when his arm caught midair.

He tried to yank his arm free, but the unidentified grip only proved tighter, so he raised his non-dominant hand into a fist, ready to pound into this challenger who dared to scent and claim his chosen one.

Weight pushed into his chest, light eyes taking up his whole vision. “Naruto-kun! Stop!”

The cacophony in his mind silenced. A voice within responded viscerally, Omega.

“Naruto-kun.” Milky sweetness suddenly flooded him, beating back the flames within. Her head ducked into his chest as she clung to him. “I’m okay, I’m really okay, you need to stop, you hurt him!”

He blinked, suddenly outside of himself. He looked down to see Toneri shielding his face with his arms.

He stood immediately, clutching Hinata into his chest, and he backed away. Not knowing what to do or say, he wrapped his other arm around Hinata’s shoulders, turning them around, rushing them far from his crime.

He hovered near Hinata throughout the rest of the lunch break, soaking in her sweet scent, alternately trying to forget or make sense of his loss of control.

He didn’t have to wonder for long.

Toneri’s injury didn’t go unnoticed, and he was called into the Principal’s Office. Hinata was called in to confirm his side of the story, and then Naruto was sent to the counselor’s office.

He had been apparently so aggravated by the emotional incident that, for the first time and unknowingly, he had called on his inner Alpha into officially presenting. But his actions were still inexcusable by school rules.

Both he and Toneri were suspended for two weeks.

The school went wild over the drama. Even when he returned, whispered rumors of a “fight for dominance” and “claiming rights” circulated, and he couldn’t even think of approaching Hinata with such scandalous gossip surrounding them.

But sometimes, she’d tuck her hair back, or sweep the midnight strands over her shoulder, wide ribbon peeking over her shirt’s collar, wrapping her graceful, white neck in his view, then she’d look back at him, their gazes connecting for an exhilarating instant.

He didn’t need words or a confession. From her beckoning sweet scent to her affectionate looks, from the memory of her whispering his name for help and her Omega voice calling out to his Alpha, he knew that she returned his feelings, that she was just as aware of him sitting around the corner as he was aware of her during that incident...that there was a high chance for them to start a relationship.

After they graduated.

But a long wait kindled a passionate love.

In the first year of their relationship in university, they were careful to follow the recommendations, clumsily having their first-times near the end of her heat, when she’d be conscious enough to make decisions, yet physically capable to accept any loss of control on his end. She wanted to spend his first rut with him, too, but he decided against it, not knowing what might happen.

It was lonely. He had never loathed a past decision so much before in his life. No matter that he took over-the-counter suppressants to calm his Alpha’s tendencies, like keeping his knot from forming or hammering down the aggressive urge to bite into soft skin, his mind kept wandering to her, his fingers tapping into her social media for pictures of her that inevitably had him working himself into a sleeve or humping his pillows and blankets, every moment compounding frustration and dissatisfaction in a never-ending cycle, until he was phone calling her, “Just to hear your voice.”

“Oh, Naruto-kun...I miss you, too. Are you okay?”

He was already achingly stiff, his own developed gland at his neck pulsing needfully, his Alpha aroused as if blinking suddenly awake, then thrashing to be with her. “Mm, yeah.”

“The medicine is okay?”

He tugged on his member, his eyes closing.

“...Naruto-kun?”

He pumped himself, settling into a rhythm. “...Yeah?”

“...Are you okay?” she repeated with more hesitation, more concern.

A harsh breath left his mouth. “No, yeah, I just needed to hear you, Hinata,” he managed to breathe out.

“I, I missed your voice, too.”

He worked himself in his hand, imagining her whispers at his ear instead of his phone. “I miss you. I need you. I need you, Hinata.”

“I wish I could help you.”

He shortly moaned. “Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about you.” His train of thought quickly devolved into memories of her last heat from there, his control on his mouth snapping. “Can’t stop thinking about your body, how I’d…” He groaned. “I’d fuck you so hard, Hinata-”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Shivers ran through him. “You’d like that, right? My hard cock driving into your dripping pussy-”

“Oh, Naruto-kun...yes…”

Blearily, he grabbed an already used sleeve, and began thrusting into it with earnest. “You’d be so hot and slick, just gripping me so tightly-”

“Naruto-kun!” Her voice pitched breathily.

“Fuck. Hinata. That’s it...”

She moaned, the hungry sound making him grind himself into the tool.

“Are you touching yourself?” he asked, trying to imagine her lewd facial expressions.

“...Yes…”

He sighed in desire and frustration, working his hips, grunting and groaning. “...Hinata…”

“Naruto-kun…”

“You’re so soft…”

“Mm…you’re..so...mm...so big...”

Eyes closed, he lay down on his bed, and a picture of her sinking down on him, riding him, ran vividly through his mind.

“You’re so hard…” Her sultry voice slipped around his mind like a drug, carrying him straight to the brink.

“I’m going to fill you up with my cum, over and over again.”

“Oh...please...yes…”

“Paint your insides with my seed…” His mind faded as she breathed his name, a sound that toppled him over the edge. He convulsed into the sleeve, pumping his hips wildly, the agony of his orgasm ripping him out of his fantasy.

When his eyes opened again, he was staring at the ceiling, utterly alone. The imagined warmth of her body just the still air of his dorm room.

Her breaths came through the phone as his mind cleared, and he roughly apologized, “Sorry.”

“...Hm? Oh..no, Naruto-kun, it’s, it’s okay, I understand.”

He rested, the exhaustion of his hours of lust suddenly hitting him.

“...Do you want me to come over?”

This short reprieve of his rut had him second-guessing. He knew that once the next wave hit, he’d want her in-person. “I don’t know, maybe, if you want…only if you want.”

“I’ll be there soon, Naruto-kun.”

She let him indulge himself between her own classes, rushing straight to him for a quickie before heading off to her next class, her womanhood and pad-lined panty sticky with the potent seed of his rut.

Numerous times that week, he wished he weren’t on medication so that he could knot her and force her to stay with him until he deflated, even if that meant she’d miss her class.

So when summer break coincided with his second rut, they talked about forgoing the medication. He wonders if he should have known better, but of course, he couldn’t control himself. He knotted her right away, and in his haze of animalistic lust and at the brink of orgasm, his teeth tore off her ribbon from her swollen, pink gland even though he had known it wasn’t the right time. Her hand slapped to her neck right before he could mark her, and he ended up biting her fingers as he came.

It was awful, but she forgave him.

Close calls in their feverish, hormonal lovemaking forced both of them to start wearing locked collars on their glands with the keys in another locked cabinet. It would be too much trouble to retrieve the keys in the throes of passion. She had initially tried simple belted collars, thinking she’d be too foggy to deal with the buckle, but she herself would desperately remove them during the height of her heat while he pounded her into a puddle.

“Please,...Alpha,...claim me,” she breathed, stretching her neck so that he could see her bare, perfectly unscarred, and puffy scent gland.

It took everything in him to shut his eyes, while his inner Alpha raged with desire.

When she realized he couldn’t be enticed, the incident of chomping her fingers still weighing on him, she tried a different tactic. Her teeth picked at his collar, her breath tantalizingly hot on him, her tongue licking at the exposed edges of his equally swollen gland, his heart thudding in his chest for their bond to be finalized.

If she ever bit him, even just a little, he knew he’d claim her in a heartbeat.

But she somehow held herself back every time, only teasing him with her lips and tongue, or the lightest graze of her teeth around where he desperately wanted her to bite down. Then she’d beg for his cum, whispering dirty words he’d never imagine could leave his quiet girlfriend’s lips.

By some way or another, they managed throughout university. He knew their parents would kill them if they bonded too soon, but after proposing to her in their final year, job-hunting, and graduation, he found less and less reasons to hold back.

He didn’t plan on marrying anyone else, and he knew Hinata didn’t plan on it, either. So why weren’t they mated, yet? Would their parents really be angry at them? Technically, they were both working adults now, even if he had only just received his first paycheck.

Her intoxicatingly rich scent enveloped him, like the protective nest of blankets and pillows she’d neatly piled and encircled around them. Her organized nest popped with distinct orange and black from his jackets and shirts, used as pillow cases to scent the entire bed if he steps away for a moment. He himself couldn’t smell the ocean air of his scent that apparently soothes her. Yet she curled into him, trembling and feverish with the onslaught of her fast-approaching heat, breathing in as deeply as she could at his shoulder.

He blinked slowly, the fog of her pheromones sending him through a buzzed state. Was it his imagination, or were her heats getting denser over time, more tantalizing and sensual? Blood was rushing low, desire accumulating slowly yet surely in his core with a certain, particular heaviness growing in his sack with the lovely, familiar scent of her heat. His body was preparing to emulate a rut, readying to knot her, claim her, mate her. The beast within paced itself. His senses felt heightened in awareness of every shiver against his skin, of each puff of her breath, anticipating anything she might need of him, waiting to prove himself worthy.

She squeezed him, soft whimpers spilling from her lips as she rubbed her sensitive breasts into his side. Her nightgown was a thin little piece, meant to provide her some semblance of modesty and keep her cool, but it made little difference to him. Her soft thigh smoothed over his legs, her knee bumping into his erection.

Just that small stimulation had him breathing her in deeply, his eyes rolling back for a second, his heart jumping with lust. He could tell she was almost there, almost ready to succumb to her nature. He knew each of her signs, how she would call for him so wantonly when it was time, how her body would move enticingly, how her slick would sluice down her legs uncontrollably.

He knew her better than he knew himself. Each facial expression, each mood, each routine, each peculiarity and detail.

He felt like he knew everything there was to know of his fiancée, and it intrigued him, frustrated him endlessly to know that there was actually still so much more for him to learn.

Turning his head, he pressed kisses into her hair and let his eyes roam down the dips and swells of her form. “...I want to bond with you, Hinata.”

“But..we’re...not married..yet,” she breathily whispered, still clinging onto her consciousness before her Omega drove her instincts.

“I feel like we’re already married.”

“We...don’t technically...live together...yet.”

“I feel like we’re already bonded.”

“Mmm...we’re not..though.”

“You don’t want to bond?” he asked more pointedly.

“You know I do,” she answered immediately.

“Then why not now?”

“Because…” Her voice died there. She lifted herself up marginally, the effort apparently taxing, heat-glazing eyes barely meeting his own gaze, and he pulled her onto him for a steamy kiss. Her tongue played with and yielded to him, letting him taste her helpless moans until they needed to breathe. Panting, she murmured, “Can we?...bond now...?” Her hand trailed over his bare chest, reaching for his locked collar.

“I love you, Hinata, and I can’t find any reasons to wait anymore.”

She wiggled on him, her lips rocking hotly against his own. “I...love you..too..Naruto-kun… Please, claim...me….tonight.”

He removed himself from her side to get the keys, making sure to soothe her worries about where he was going, then he unlocked his own collar. His gland, swelling in response to her darkening scent, almost felt like it had a heartbeat of its own.

She lay back obediently as soon as he reappeared, and he moved over her as she turned her chin up, letting him unlock her own collar, and he tossed the leather to the ground unceremoniously.

His gaze lingered on her gland, swollen pretty and pink, delicate skin waiting to be broken. He could bite her right now if he wanted to. “Do you want to wait for your heat to come?”

She shook her head. “I...can’t...wait...”

Nodding, he removed his boxers as she threw her nightgown off and rolled down her soaked panties, a heavy string of slick stretching with it.

His breath grew labored as he kneeled between her creamy legs, positioned his dick at her glistening center, and quickly sunk into her marvelous warmth, penetrating her silky folds deeply. “I love you, Hinata.”

“I...love...you...Naru..to-kun…” Her breaths pushed out with his long thrusts, more slick sliding out of her and covering his pelvis. Her sweet scent was much stronger now, piercing his senses into a mindless devotion as he worked his stiff cock into her.

He fell forward, rubbing their chests together, relishing the soft give of her squirming body beneath him with a groan of approval. He found her lips, their tongues caressing each other hungrily, her breath steaming up at him with each squishy thrust.

By the end of tonight, her soft, curvy body and her beautiful, gentle mind would be entirely his. Her chocolatey scent would be his to taste for himself from the intimate source, sweet nectar on his tongue.

He nosed her exposed gland, breathing deeply, his tongue tracing the delicious swell.

“Naruto-kun,” she whispered, a tremor shaking her bodily as he licked her, her soft hold clenching around him.

Desire surged, the base of his piece already swelling. “Hinata,” he groaned, trying to hold back his eager, oncoming knot, “can I claim you from the back?”

Like in the traditional pictures. The Alpha dominating the Omega into submission first before they changed places, and the Omega ultimately choosing whether to seal the bond for life. It wasn’t the only way, but it was the one he had frequently fantasized about as a teenager whenever Hinata was absent. Maybe because he was always watching her from the back of the classroom, always noticing if she turned around.

Her light eyes gazed up at him through lowered lashes. “Yes.”

He sat up, pulling her legs together against his chest. A few thrusts into her, and she twisted onto her side, her body curving deliciously, his hands delighting in her pinched waist, her pillowy breasts, the jiggle of her ass as he slapped into her. “Fuck.” His knot was inflating fast, insisting on burying into her with each push. “On your hands and knees, Omega. Present for your Alpha.”

She gained her knees as he pulled out for a second, turning her dripping petals up to him beneath a wiggling, full ass.

He drove forward, ramming himself into her, her body opening up for his knot. He pushed himself deeper as she took the swell of him, her lower lips closing around him, locking him in like she was made for him, her body ready for his inner Alpha to claim her. Excitement thrilled through him, her gland prominently waiting for him with Hinata’s hair draped on the other side. Salivating, he leaned over her prone form, hands gliding and squeezing up her smooth body until his fingers sunk into her breasts.

He tongued her gland, relishing the flutter of her cushiony flesh conforming to his tight knot, the pleasure prickling like static. He let his teeth graze her delicate skin, the tease on his mind unbearable, yet devastating on her.

“I’m yours, I’m yours, oh, Alpha, I’m yours, please, Alpha, only yours, take me, take me-”

His lips enclosed around the swollen skin, gently suckling as she fucked herself on his knot, her ass shaking on his pelvis wildly, aromatic slick smearing all over him. “Hinata, all mine, so cute and needy on my big cock, begging for my claim.”

“Yes, yes, please…” Her repeated, begging promises overpowered the last of his control, his hand reaching further up to take hold of her slender neck, the possessive gesture wringing a mindlessly loud moan from her throat.

He bit.

She burst beneath him.

Hormone-rich flavor flooded his senses, ecstatic pleasure whipping at him like a pinch, grounding his body to hers as warmth pooled low, he was coming hard, but airy delight enfolded him, her scent and taste softly weighing through him. He clung to her shivering body, hands squeezing at her skin, his fingers reaching for more of her, his cock still twitching out cum as far as he could reach. He swallowed down more of his claim, more of the forbidden honey of her body, a devotion sealing upon him that sent his heart throbbing louder and louder, only to realize...it was hers. Her pulse and moaning breaths so clear, he couldn’t hear himself at all.

Heat spread from his chest, circulating out until he was burning uncomfortable pins and needles across his whole body, numbing him.

Except for where they touched.

He had at some point fallen to his side, tangling her to himself as close as he could. Need rippled through him. His body felt empty. His own mating gland felt tight and hot, pulling and pulsing at his neck. Her soft skin and flesh comforted him like a drug, all of his senses zeroing in on her sensation, and he needed more of her, yet his Alpha felt weak, intoxicated, incapable of taking what he wanted.

All he could do was clutch her tightly, pierce himself into her over and over as his knot softened, suck on her skin, and listen to each of her hitching cries in attempts to soothe the aches of an incomplete bond.

Her dewy gland left his lips, and in his lust-ridden daze, he wanted to pin her back down, but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t move as she pushed his shoulder, laying him flat, as she mounted him and moved upon him.

Through bleary eyes he regarded the bouncing form of his mate, each stroke making her moans sing in his mind, her heavy pulse drumming in his ears. His Alpha, drunk on his claim, murmured, My Omega, mine, encouraging his hands to pull her wide hips down to meet his weakened thrusts, fingers to lazily pull at her nipples as they jiggled in front of him. Before long, she was taking in his knot again, her flaring hips swaying as she fitted herself onto him, her soft body perfectly taking him, her Omega voice whispering so sweetly, “My Alpha...”

He strained his head to the side in a helpless plea. Never before had he felt so needy or powerless. They had learned in Health Class about how incomplete bonds could drive someone mad. How imbuing someone else’s essence within can lead to emotional, mental, and physical pain if left unanswered.

And he realized he would feel frightened if he didn’t trust her completely to take him in return, to glide her hands across his chest like he’s precious, to lean over him as her heated gasps and cries rang through him, to lowly murmur, “Mine,” an echo that alerted his senses enough for his body to gravitate up toward her, toward her kisses, her teeth, grazing, sinking…

He burned.

Strained.

Furiously released.

Her enticing, whimpering sounds urged him on.

A thick pulse from his gland, to his heart, to his cock.

Like a heavy thread tying him to her fluttering clutch around his throbbing piece, to her rapid pulse beating in his mind, to her caressing and insistent tongue and lips on his neck. His whole self, not just his dick, was knotted to her for the first time. Cum continued to spill out of him, each shot spreading fluffy euphoria over him, whitening his mind around their taut connection.

And then he could truly feel her.

Her Omega.

Pleasant, delighted comfort mirroring his own. Her beautiful emotions washing through him, completing his until he couldn’t distinguish his own high from hers.

He turned his head, pushing her face from his gland, finding hers, and drinking her in. He caught her dripping essence on his tongue, the warm, sweet taste whipping at him once more, drugging him.

Her heightened pleasure raced against his heart as she climbed the peak of ecstasy once more. Striking ecstasy surged harder and harder through their bond, her orgasm crashing through him, more cum spurting out of him as she cried out her elation.

He felt endless.

Cycled and recycled in her embrace. Needing and providing, giving and receiving, sharing and keeping.

They enjoyed their new bond straight through the start of her heat, his body not needing a break for several hours past his normal, rut-less limit. When his piece finally softened, he noticed she wasn’t exhibiting the usual symptoms of her heat, like deliriousness and confusion. He knew exactly what she wanted, and while he pleasured her with a dildo instead, she didn’t beg him for anything he couldn’t give.

She was less tired in the brief respites from her heat.

She seemed settled and happy, rather than struggling against her inner Omega’s needs.

“We should’ve bonded sooner,” he reflected aloud as they finally ate their first meal in over ten hours.

Sitting in his lap, she hummed in agreement, snuggling against his chest, and sighed, “I love you, Naruto-kun.”

“I love you, Hinata.” He smiled, meeting her content expression.

Thoughts of their parents’ reactions were far from their minds.

And of course, as soon as they broke the news when her heat was over, Hinata’s father immediately forced them to have a civil marriage at the courthouse that week, even though their wedding ceremony and celebration with guests were in only a month and a half. Hiashi made Naruto move into Hinata’s apartment immediately, even though the agreement had originally been only for her heats or his ruts.

They stood together, admiring the photographs of their wedding on the refrigerator. Hinata smiled into his chest as they embraced. “We got to get married twice,” she reflected aloud with a laugh.

“Yeah, see, not too many people get to have two weddings,” he agreed.

“And I got to have you all the time, sooner, so it’s definitely a good thing.”

“Yeah.” He squeezed her harder, despite knowing what her sinfully angelic body would do to him. He was thinking their parents, Hiashi included, must have remembered the effects of new bonds, and for that reason forced them to marry and move in together, beyond just for appearance’s sake and societal expectations…

He missed her all the time. A strange loneliness even if he was surrounded by people. And his libido was much higher than before.

He wasn’t taught that part about the bond in school.

That seeing her at the wedding in her figure-hugging gown would nearly incite an erection. That having their first dance, even in front of all their friends and family, would make him want to grind against her like they’re in the club. That just thinking of her at work would make him feel like he needed to rub one off in the bathroom.

It was like being on the tip of going into a rut, but staying at that edge for days, weeks. He could still control himself easily, but if she’s in his arms here and now, there’s really no reason to stress about it.

It affected her similarly.

She was more than willing, letting him make love to her wherever they were in the apartment, just turning around, pulling her panties down, and allowing him to fit into her so that they could satisfy the physical side-effects of their bond. “Naruto-kun,” she gasped out as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

He watched the soft skin of her ass bouncing on his hips with each of his energetic thrusts. “Hinata, you’re so sexy.”

She hummed a disagreement that turned into a yelp as he pinched her nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers until they were hard points.

“Yes, you are.” His dick twitched inside of her as she gasped tortured cries. He was going to come quickly, the need beginning to boil over even though it had only been a couple of minutes. His right hand groped her full breast, the plush skin turning him on even harder as his left reached down to find her clit.

His middle finger slid over the hot, moist hood. One gentle stroke, and she was convulsing on him. Two strokes, and she sobbed out his name.

A groan fell out as he pulled himself close to her, shoving his straining piece as deeply as he could and pulsing sweet release into her soft clutch.

She panted into the crook of her arm, letting him rest against her back. “I love you.”

Smiling tiredly into her hair, he whispered, “I love you, too.”

Quickies were a solution to ease their newly mated Alpha and Omega, and gradually, over the course of the year, their cycles calmed and fell into a synchronizing rhythm.

It’s a blessing he doesn’t take for granted. Rutting into his mate and not just any heated Omega found on dating apps. His only partner in his whole life.

There’s nothing better than knowing he’s the only one to have ever held her, the only one to have ever been inside her, to make her gasp and cry in pleasure, to have her slick dripping down his groin, and to have his name on her wanton tongue.

To be the only one she’s ever called, “Alpha…”

To be the only one she looks at with heat-stained pink cheeks and glazed, cloudy, adoring eyes.

To hear her begging for his knot, to bear his child.

He’s lucky.

“Good girl,” he mutters before smashing his lips to hers, her squeals hot on his tongue. Sucking kisses down her jaw, he buries his face at her neck and nudges into her until she opens up for his knot completely. “Take it.” Elation tickles at his extremities, and he holds her soft body closer.

Tense hands press into his back, and her silky flesh pulls at him with insistent tugs around his knot. She arches into him with mindless, urgent praises.

Hot spurts of cum leave his aching cock, and he shudders against her smaller, trembling form. Groaning, he jerks into her, pressing his straining piece as deeply as he can.

Her still-broken gasps, the pull of her body, and the vibrant scent of her gland promise him a long climax, and he imagines the concentrated seed of his rut soaking into her cervix.

She’s probably already pregnant from their first round with the fertile conditions of their bond, but that knowledge only stirs his Alpha’s primal instincts.

In some bygone evolutionary past, unmated outsiders of the pack would be drawn to a pregnant female’s “glow,” her shroud of strongly attractive aroma meant to encourage her own mate to stay close and provide...

Itʻs a medical fact that soon Hinata’s enticing scent will lure others with little self-control.

So he just needs to make sure they know she’s his.

Sitting up, he leisurely grinds into her jolting body, delighting in each tortured cry. She’s still sensitive to the touch, but he strokes the slanting curves of her hips, around to her soft thighs near his torso, then back up her body to squish into her tits. Minutes of caressing her body pass, and his knot gradually deflates, allowing him to stab into her with longer thrusts. “Hina...you feel how hard I still am for you?”

She nods with a blissful smile. “Naruto-kun,” she coos.

“Yeah.” He grabs her wrists and brings her hands down, silently encouraging her to feel their sloppy connection below.

Dutifully, her hand encircles the base of his length as he pulls out, dripping with their cum, while he has her other hand smear against her steamy womanhood. “My Alpha’s made me so wet,” she comments, her cloudy eyes lidded in sensual intimacy.

He takes her hands and flattens them against her stomach, then glides them up to her full breasts. Watching her touch herself, he groans as he penetrates back into her slick folds. “Feel how soft you are? Feel how your body makes me so hard for you?”

The pink of her cheeks deepens as she moans, and he pierces her a few more times before withdrawing once more.

He drags his cock along her thigh and rubs the mess into her creamy skin. He scoops the dribbling loads from her pussy and smoothes it across her tummy. “Rub it in.”

She does the rest without prompting, her fingers reaching down to her lower lips spread around the tip of his girth before drawing back up to trace shining patterns over her skin.

Grinding into her, he watches her hands dip over the slopes of her body, her fingers shamelessly lingering at her nipples, pleasuring herself, leaving their cum shining on her areolas. “Pretty tits,” he grunts, leaning down to nip at the jiggling, erect buds.

Suddenly she tenses up, writhing beneath him, her breasts pillowing against his face. Her stressed grip clenches at his biceps, and he looks up to see her agonized expression.

Her eyes closed in rapture.

Swollen lips wide open, her jaw working around a breathless scream.

Velvety folds tighten around him, inviting him to snuggle deeper as her creamy fluid splashes down his balls. Pride sizzles through him at the tell-tale signs of a well-loved Omega, the idea of her soon-to-be multiple, repeated orgasms exciting him.

She bucks up at him, quietly begging, “More…knot...need…knot…”

Pulling out, he flips her onto her stomach. Using his knees to spread her legs apart, he glides his piece along the length of her crack, steamy slick sticking to her ass cheeks as he compares his engorged size to her smaller body.

“Naru-”

He slides back into her spread petals, rapidly pounding into her. Avidly watching her ass bounce against him, he slaps the pale skin to bright red, earning him ecstatic squeals. That familiar pinching surges low, and he’s swollen again, his knot taut and full, but her dripping folds easily wrap around him as he pushes in.

She gasps mindless words of appreciation that devolve into a moan once he reaches beneath her to stroke her slippery clit. One, two, three hard rubs with his fingers, and her passage tightens up in rhythmic tugs on his knot.

His eyes roll back as she forces his ejaculate out, a snarl fixed into his jaw. His fingers push into her clit as he grinds into her, ensuring a torturous orgasm that leaves her breathlessly climbing another peak soon after.

“A-Alpha, oh, Alpha!” Creamy slick leaks around his knot as she writhes enticingly beneath him, and within a minute, her soaked walls are massaging his hot length once more in trembling ecstasy.

Grunting, he squirts out the last of his load, adrenaline streaming hot-cold from every extremity, tingling pleasure washing through and seeping into her.

He collapses, pulling her to their sides. Eyes falling closed, he focuses his senses on the chocolatey taste of her honey dripping on his tongue, the melty feeling of his cock nestled securely in their shared moisture, and the softness of her areolas puckered into tight nubs between his fingers. He enjoys her squirming ass in his lap, the thumping beat of her heart in the background of his mind, her loving sighs.

Teasing pleasure tickles at his inner beast, and possessive affection blooms strong within.

An instinctive pressure in his chest to hold her close and never let go.

Ebbing and flowing through his veins, emotion rising like an incoming tide. It’s still hardly the start of their first acclimated bond together; they’re only just entering the final stage of the mating process.

Her heady scent is stronger than ever, and he’s sinking into it. The pitching climax of their bond has him relinquishing control to her needs, his body easily responding to her desires. They’re reaching a new depth and alignment in their relationship that excites and mystifies him, will conceivably drag him under and rebirth him.

“Do..do you hear that?” Her breathless voice is barely audible over the faint, singing hum he can feel trembling through them, a primordial tone of mates only ever described, never recorded.

“Yeah.” Content attachment fizzes through him, bubbles across his skin, and he cuddles her close, snuggling his piece deep.

She turns her head, hot blush dusted across her cheeks, warm lips and tongue slotting perfectly with his.

He is meant for this, meant for her to be meant for him. Maybe the gods didn’t tie red threads between their fingers, but she twined him in herself. Each look, word, scrap of attention paid tangled them, sewed his soul to hers in a way their bodies can only attempt to replicate in sinfully sweet ritual.

“Naru..mm…” Her light gasps mist at his tongue with each rock into her body, and he drinks each breath in, savors the pure adoration and unremitting arousal he can taste from her lips.

“I know, Hinata, I know.” Sweet craving and even sweeter indulgence wrap beautifully about him, and he draws them deeper to sweetest release.

#naruto-smut-monday #naruhina fanfiction #naruhina fanfic #thank you for reading!#alpha/beta/omega au #a/b/o dynamics

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lunar-jimin · 4 years

Text

i can be temptation, you can be my sin

Pairing: Jimin x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4.5k

Genre: smut, tiny side of angst and fluff, office!au (not the TV show), coworkers!au

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dom!Jimin, sub!reader, spanking, fingering, semi-public sex, dirty talk, degradation, reader sends nudes

Summary: Between bragging about his prolific sex life and his horrific design ideas, Jimin has managed to make your work life a living hell. Then one little accident sends you hurtling towards him, and as hard as you try, you can’t seem to stop yourself.

A/N: This is a commission for @ppersonna for @ficswithluv‘s ChangesWithLuv project dedicated to raising money for BLM. I’m so sorry this fic took forever to write (I’m not sure why), but I hope that you enjoy it! A huge shout-out to my lovely beta-reader, @jinterlude. She’s the best!

| m.list |

“Jimin…” a groan tumbles out of you, “that shade of yellow is-“

“Bright and comforting?”

“-awful.”

His thick lips curve into a pout, eyes doing little to conceal his mock hurt. Exasperation runs through your body, grasping your brain in its clutches. Your entire week has been filled with Jimin’s progressively hideous design ideas for a book cover, to the point you’re beginning to wonder how he got hired at all. The piss-yellow mock-up in front of you is just another straw in the stack that is going to break your back.

“What?” he looks confused, “You said you wanted something eye-catching, and I would have to say this is pretty darn, eye-catching.”

“It’s blinding is what it is. Maybe if we toned it back a bit…” your eyes drift over the design, horror twisting in your gut.

You want to cry. A week ago, your boss had enthusiastically paired you with Jimin to design a book cover for an up and coming YA author, claiming the two of you were the best designers she had, even promising the both of you a promotion if things went well. You aren’t sure what designs Jimin had produced in the past, because what he was bringing to the table now wasn’t much better than a shitty college club poster.

Jimin didn’t make for great company either. Sure he had legs that went for miles, and a face that would outshine angels, but his mouth was filthy. If the two of you weren’t bickering over fonts and hex codes, you were stuck listening to him brag about how loud he could make a girl scream. What’s worse is that while your brain was logical enough to know that Jimin was no good for you, your body had other ideas. As a result, you often went home after a long day, frustrated in more ways than one.

With a little luck- and quite a bit of compromising- you manage to make it to five ‘o’clock without murdering anyone. You manage to talk Jimin down off the yellow in exchange for completing the pitch presentation by yourself. Presentations are time-consuming and tedious, but it’s better than being out of a job because Jimin is set on making the cover look like a neon highlighter.

A half an hour later, you're collapsing on your soft couch, ready to do absolutely nothing for the rest of the weekend. A sigh of relief carries an iota of the stress out of your body as you sink back into the welcoming cushions. You grimace as the tension in your neck became apparent, and you feel the growing ball of angst you have for Jimin tighten. You were going to send him the bill if you had to go to a chiropractor.

In an attempt to move on from your hectic week and into your relaxing weekend, you wander to the kitchen, searching for the merlot you have yet to open. The tall green bottle greets you from the counter. You find a glass and watch as the red liquid quickly fills it. You savor a long sip as you let your mind stray away from the thoughts of work and stress and into notions of self-care and relaxation.

An hour later, having eaten a frozen pizza, you find yourself soaking down into the hot bath suds. The heat begins to draw the ache out of your sore muscles. Once again, Jimin flashes through your mind, coupled with resentment. Your eyes prickle at the thought, sick and tired of Jimin living in your mind rent-free. Why is he preoccupying your brain instead of Seokjin, the cute cook you matched with on Tinder?

While you had yet to meet in person, you and Seokjin had hit off right away when he opened with the cheesiest pick-up line you’d ever heard. He worked at a five-star restaurant a few blocks from your office, but you’d never met in person. That didn’t mean that you hadn’t had a few scandalous conversations. You weren’t usually one for sexting, but Seokjin’s way with words left you little choice.

Eager to take Jimin off your mind, you grab your phone from the side of the tub, quickly opening your messages. You’re much too impatient for small talk, so in the interest of sparking some saucy dialogue, you take a few snaps of your bubble-covered nude body. You suck in a breath as you hit send, anxious for your reaction. It wasn’t the first time you had sent him a nude photo, but it didn’t make you any less nervous. Seokjin was one of the most attractive men you had ever had the privilege of laying eyes on, and it was only natural for you to question your appearance in comparison to his. He would always reassure you, though, flattering you with compliments, both sultry and sweet.

When he doesn’t respond fifteen minutes, a knot forms in your stomach. What if he didn’t like them? What if he was seeing someone else? What if he lost interest? You check your messages with hurried concern. What you find on your screen mortifies. In your haste to tease Seokjin, you had accidentally sent the photos to the last person you texted: Jimin. Worse yet, the little grey “read” sits just beneath the last picture. As you stare at the screen with abject horror, a little speech-bubble pops-up. Your stomach twists in knots, anticipating of what he might say striking you with fear.

The Office Brat: if you wanted a piece of me baby girl, all you had to do was ask 20:33

You suck in a breath when he immediately follows the text with a picture of his own. He’s shirtless, lip between his teeth as he grabs his prominent erection through grey sweatpants. You can’t help the whine that slips out of your mouth at the image. You try to ignore the heat that rushes to your core as your legs rub together. When your senses finally return to you, you drop your phone on the bath mat before sinking into the water, leaving only your face out. The photo is still seared into your brain, taunting you with his delicious abs and what turned out to be a healthy sized dick.

You immediately resolve to forget it ever happened. You spend the rest of the weekend attempting to distract yourself through a binge of every cheesy rom-com you can find on Netflix. You sent Jimin a quick text, informing him that the photos weren’t actually for him. He hadn’t responded, and you didn’t know if you should be relieved or not. It certainly didn’t aid the dread building in your stomach at the thought of having to face him again on Monday.

When you walk into the office two days later, you’re relieved to find that Jimin seemed nowhere to be found. You pray that he actually had an iota of shame and quit out of humiliation. Your hopes are crushed when not five minutes later, you notice him prancing toward your cubicle, his ever-present smirk plastered across his face. When he reaches you, he plops down in an extra desk chair, arms crossed across his chest, eyes looking you up and down. You can’t help but shiver at the knowledge that he knows precisely what you look like underneath your work clothes.

“What do you want, Jimin?” you sigh.

“Haven’t I made that obvious, baby?” He grins. “I want you.”

You roll your eyes.

“Jimin, what happened this weekend was an accident,” you give him a firm glare, “so no matter how much you claim to want me, I want nothing to do with you.:

He raises his eyebrow, eyes locked on yours, before standing and walking to you. His breath is warm on your neck as he leans over to whisper in your ear. You clench your thighs in an attempt to extinguish the heat beginning to burn in between them.

“We’ll see about that, now won’t we, baby girl?”

He pulls away with a smirk, before turning to head to his desk. Your eyes trail to his ass as he leaves, only worsening the situation in your underwear. You silently vow to yourself not to fall for his tricks. You have more self-respect than to allow yourself to be yet another notch in Park Jimin’s bedpost.

Brushing thoughts of your troublesome coworker from your mind, you turn back to your bright computer screen, determined to lose yourself in your work. Your eyes widen when you find an email from Jimin taunting you in your inbox. Heart pounding fast, you click on it, half afraid to find another nude of his (it wouldn’t be beyond him). Instead of a naked Jimin, a PDF with the details for the cover design presents itself. You’re taken aback. Not only had Jimin swapped the yellow for soft coral, but he practically redesigned the entire thing. Scrolling through, you’re embarrassed to admit that it was nearly as good, if not better, then some of your best works.

You immediately realize that this means he’s been pulling your leg for over a week. A groan escapes you, and your head falls forward, smashing into your keyboard. Of course, he was a fucking amazing graphic artist; you shouldn’t have expected anything less. Fury floods down your spine as it dawns on you that it was all a trick to get out of doing the PowerPoint. Now you were stuck making an entire presentation, just because Jimin had pretended to love piss-yellow.

It takes every ounce of your self-control not to march to his desk and strangle him. White anger flashes in front of your eyes, resentment growing to cover every waking thought in your brain. When you finally calm enough to rationalize that murder isn’t going to get you anywhere, you decide that your best course of action is to avoid him until the day of the two of you are scheduled to present to the board.

The world isn’t being kind to you today, because when you finally head to the break room for lunch, you immediately run into your new worst enemy.

“What’s got your panties in a knot now, love?”

You glare at him, not trusting yourself not to stab him with your salad fork. He smirks in response, before turning to leave. At the last second, he turns back to you.

“Have fun with that PowerPoint.”

You want to scream.

“Jimin, I swear to god, you little shit, I’m gonna-”

“You’re gonna what? Spank me?” His cheeky grin widens. “You know, baby, I’m usually a dom, but if it meant feeling your sweet pussy, I’d definitely be a sub.”

You are lucky that no one else is around to hear his words because you are mortified enough. Red creeps across your face as Jimin winks at you. When he finally leaves, you collapse back onto the counter, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. You swear to high heaven that you’ve never hated someone so much in your life, yet feel so attracted to them at the same time. As infuriated as you are with him, you are even more infuriated with your inability to control your body’s reaction to him.

Why did he have to know exactly what to say to soak your panties? Why was he so hellbent on getting you to sleep with him? Why did you ever have to be assigned to him in the first place? These questions plagued your mind as the week trickled slowly on. Your anger with Jimin was beginning to be diluted with anxiety about your upcoming presentation. No part of you looked forward to standing in front of the company board to make a potential career-changing pitch with the person you hated most in the world. Not to mention public speaking made you want to hide under a rock and never come out.

Thankfully, Jimin is kind enough to offer to do most of the talking- even if his original deal included a blow job- but it also meant you had less control if things started to go south. By the time Friday rolled around, you’re shitting yourself with fear. Jimin does his best to calm you down as you sit in hard plastic chairs outside the boardroom, waiting to be called in.

“Look, we’ll do fine. You made an amazing presentation, and I’m pretty brilliant at charming people if I do say so myself.”

He reaches over and gives your hand a small squeeze. You’re just nervous enough to offer him a small smile. For what it’s worth, he wasn’t terrible at comforting people.

“Thanks, Jimin. I’m sure everything will go great.”

Everything did not go great. In fact, it went very, very badly. Somewhere out there, someone must have hexed you because that’s the only reason you can think of that would explain why you placed Jimin’s original yellow design in the slideshow instead of his new one. You feel terrible. Not only have you fucked up in front of the entire company, but you’ve put both of your jobs on the line.

As soon as the meeting ended, you rushed off to the bathroom. You already embarrassed yourself enough as it is, you don’t need everyone to see you cry too. Tears roll down your face as you sit on the toilet, praying for the sudden end of your existence.

You had one job and somehow you had managed to fuck it up. You managed to ruin your career. You’re going to end up jobless. Broke. Destitute.

You’re jolted out of your thoughts by a knock at the door.

“Doll? Are you in there?”

Jimin’s voice is soft and comforting, and if you weren’t so afraid of humiliating yourself, you would have gladly welcomed his arms around you. But you are, so you try to stifle your sobs in an attempt to make him go away.

“Doll? I know you’re in there. I can hear you crying,” he sighs, “Please just let me in. I just want to talk.”

A sigh escapes your lips as you debate your options. If he already knows you’re crying, what difference will it make if he sees you? You stand up from your seat on the toilet, make a quick attempt at cleaning up your ruined makeup, and hesitantly open the door to let him inside.

He immediately takes you in his arms, closing the door behind him. The feeling of his body wrapped around yours only serves to induce more tears, and you find yourself crying into his shirt collar.

“I’m so, so sorry, Jimin,” you hiccup, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how I used that one. I’m so sor-”

“It’s okay, baby.”

You pull away to look at his eyes.

“What? How can you say that? I ruined the presentation, and we’ll be lucky if they want us to come back to work tomorrow.”

“They loved it.”

“What?”

“They loved it. They thought it was bright and innovative and really demonstrated that we understood design enough to push its limits.”

You look at him in shock. They loved it. They thought it was great. Your job was safe. You weren’t going to be fired. You may even receive a promotion.

“Feel better, doll?” He smiles down at you.

For once in your life, you return his smile, while shaking your head in affirmation.

“Well, then…”

You’re still smiling but suddenly unsure of what to do. Jimin’s hands are still on your waist, and you hated how aware of them you’re becoming. He seems to notice at the same time and quickly pulls them away.

“I have a question.” His voice is soft and shaky, and his eyes shift from side to side, seemingly unable to focus on you.

“What?”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

You’re taken aback. Jimin, who was usually so confident and larger than life, is now standing before you, small and meek, like an underfed puppy begging for scraps.

“I, I don’t hate you, Jimin.”

“But you must,” his voice is curt, “You never flirt back with me, yet I see you tease Hoseok all day long. You never laugh at my jokes. You never praise my work. As soon as I come anywhere near you, you close up. You snap at me, and you have no patience with me. You avoid me at all costs. So let me ask you again: why do you hate me?”

This time, instead of avoiding eye contact, he stares at you like he’s trying to read your soul.

“I really don’t hate you, Jimin.”

He raises his eyebrow.

“I just don’t want you to hurt me.”

He looks genuinely confused at your statement.

“How could I possibly hurt you?”

“The same way you hurt all those other girls.”

“What other girls?” His voice rises with defense.

“You know, the ones you sleep with in bathrooms, only to leave them broken-hearted when you never so much as glance their way again? The one’s you brag about fucking every chance you get until I want to slam my head into a brick wall? The ones that prove you’re nothing but a narcissistic fuckboy whose only goal in life is to get his dick wet? Those are the girls I’m talking about.”

Jimin looks shocked before his face morphs into an angry scowl, eyes heated and alert.

“That’s what you really think about me? That I’m a no-good player who uses girls for their bodies? Do you really think I trick girls into sleeping with me? Because you're wrong. They know what they’re getting into when they agree to restroom rendezvouses, but they always seem to convince themselves that they can convince me that I should be in a relationship with them. That’s not my fault. I would never sleep with someone under false pretenses. And I bragged about them because I wanted you to like me! Do you not get that? I don’t ever try this hard to get anybody to sleep with me, but I like you. I like you a lot, and this whole time you just thought I was a misogynistic fuckboy because you never cared to get to know me better.”

Jimin is seething, like a dog that went feral. His chest rises with heavy breaths as he backs you into the wall, eyes staring down yours. You let out a small whimper when he leans into your ear, hot breath ghosting your neck.

“If you think I’m such a fuckboy, then a fuckboy is what you are going to get.”

Before your brain can properly register his words, his lips are covering yours in a desperate kiss. Despite your lack of cognizance, you respond immediately, lips moving against his as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into you. His hands ghost down your side before he grabs your ass with a rough squeeze, eliciting a whine from your mouth.

He flips you around before bending you over the sink, eyes holding yours in the mirror reflection.

“I think you’ve been a bad girl, don’t you agree? Leaving me with blue balls just because you think you’re better than me.”

Words fail you, so you nod instead. His hand slips under your skirt, softly massaging your ass.

“Don’t you think Daddy needs to punish you?”

You whimper, eyes struggling to hold his in your shared reflection. His gaze was burning with lust and fiery.

“I need you to use your words, baby.”

“Yes, daddy, I need to be punished.”

He grinned before flipping up your skirt to reveal the supple curve of your ass to his waiting gaze.

“Fuck, baby, do you know how long I’ve stared at this ass walking away from me, trying not to pop a boner in front of the whole office?”

He grabbed a rough handful.

“So long, baby, much too long. I think ten should suffice. Count for me.”

“Okay, daddy.” You whine.

“Say ‘red’ if it gets to be too much.”

“Yes, daddy.”

The first spank sent shocks running through you. While you expected the pain, you hadn’t anticipated how hard he would hit you, or how the contrast of his warm palm and cool rings would send pleasure singing through your body.

“O-one.”

The word barely made it out of your mouth, your brain hazy with lust.

The subsequent slap on the opposite cheek once again jolts you, and you fall forward, bracing your hands on the cold porcelain sink before you.

“Two.”

By the time he made it to five, tears had begun to well in your eyes, and you were sure your ass was painted a nice shade of crimson. By the time he made it to ten, tears had streaked your cheeks as moans and whimpers left your mouth alongside your garbled counting.

Jimin takes a moment to step back to admire his handiwork, his smirk only widening as he takes in his handprint bruised into your ass.

“Holy shit, baby, you’re so hot. You took your punishment so well. Look at how much of a good girl you are.”

Even in your hazy state, you beamed at his praise.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“I think you deserve a reward, baby girl.”

You nod vigorously at that, eager to feel him finally inside you.

“What do you want, baby? Use your words.”

“Your fingers, daddy, please.”

In an attempt to convey your desperation, you grind your hips into his crotch.

“Patience, baby girl. Where do you want them?”

“In my pussy, daddy. Please. I’m so wet for you.” Your sentence ends with a light sob, the need for him overwhelming you.

“Ask and you shall receive.”

With that, he pulls your panties to the side as he cautiously rubs his pointer finger up and down your soaked slit, before slipping inside.

“Fuck, baby, your dripping. Did spanking you turn you on that much? Is my baby girl that much of a pain slut?”

“Yes, daddy. I’m a pain slut just for you.”

He adds a second finger, and your head drops between your shoulders as he begins to move his digits in and out of you at a quick but intentional pace. Moans fall from your lips, and you let out a sharp squeal when he crooks his fingers and brushes against your g-spot.

“Fuck, daddy, right there.”

He quickens his pace, rubbing you perfectly over and over again as he brings you closer to the point of no return.

“Shit, baby, I’m so hard right now. Your pussy is so tight and wet around my fingers; I just want to sink my cock into you.”

“Please, daddy, I want your cock too. I want you to cum inside me. Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-“

Words fail you as you are sent hurtling into your orgasm, waves of euphoria crashing down around you. Your body is shaking as you collapse against the sink.

Jimin lets out a groan at your fucked-out state, removing his hand from your pussy and bringing it to his lips to taste you. He lets out a moan as he does, freehand going to the front of his pants to rub his prominent erection through the black fabric.

After you recover enough to stand, you turn around and replace his hand with your own, pussy clenching at how big he was.

“Will you fuck me now, daddy?” You look up at him under your lashes, and his head falls back at your mock innocence, a light whimper escaping his lips. He tilts his head back up to look at you, hand coming to grab your waist to pull you to his lips.

You taste yourself on his tongue as your hands come to play with his hair, tugging on the strands. He ruts up into you, desperation getting the better of him. He pulls away, revealing his swollen lips and hazy eyes.

“Fuck yeah, I’ll fuck you now, baby girl.” He makes quick work of his belt zipper, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to let out his cock and balls. The tip is an angry red, beautifully contrasted with the white of his dress shirt. Your mouth waters as you take in its wide girth and slight curve. You’re desperate to taste it, but right now there were more important matters at hand.

You drop your panties, before hopping up on the edge of the sink. Jimin gives his cock a few short tugs before lining up with your dripping entrance. You let out soft moans as he sinks into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him as close as possible. His hands grab your ass, pulling you to the edge of the sink, before slamming back in. He sets a slow but intentional pace, the sound of skin and desperate moans echoing throughout the small bathroom.

You aren’t going to last long, having already come once, and judging by his quickening pace, neither is he. Your lips meet each other in a messy kiss as he pulls you tight against his body. It’s hard to discern what is a part of you and what is a part of him. Your limbs are so intertwined, that it feels like you are one body.

As his cock continues to drill into your g-spot, stars begin to cover your vision. With the force of a freight train, you come unannounced; your mouth opens in a silent scream. Jimin follows right behind you, painting your walls white with his seed. He lets out a groan of your name, his head coming to rest on your shoulder.

Both of you silently shake as you take a moment to catch your breath and process what just happened. He slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, watching as his cum pours out of your cunt.

“Fuckkkk, that’s hot.” He groans, tucking himself back into his pants, before wetting a paper towel to help clean you up.

“I’m sorry I thought so poorly of you.” You give him an apologetic grin, as you pull up your underwear.

“It’s okay. I can see where I might have led you to think that I don’t treat girls well.”

“Well, now I can see that I was wrong. You seem like you would be a fantastic boyfriend.” You move to exit the bathroom, eager to get away so you can process the rampage of emotions flooding through you now that your lust wasn’t getting in the way.

“I can be yours.”

You pause at the door.

“What?”

“I could be your boyfriend.”

“I-“

“I’ve liked you ever since the first time I saw you, and I think that maybe you like me, and I just really, really want to be your boyfriend.”

Your mind is racing at a million miles per hour, trying to process everything that’s happening. One moment he was fucking you like it was your last day on the earth, and now he’s standing in front of you, pleading for you to make him yours. You aren’t sure what to make of it.

“I think I would really like that too, Jimin,” he beams,” “but everything is going so fast, and I just need a little time to take everything in.”

His face falls a little, but he nods understandingly.

“That’s fair. Let me take you on a date, at least.”

You grin.

“Okay.”

“Coffee on Saturday?”

“Sounds great.”

#changeswithluv #bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #fanfic #one-shot #smut #bts #jimin #park jimin #bangtan #fluff #angst

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youreacowgirllikeme · 3 years

Note

Hi love! 💓 💓 can you pls write a fic of Chris and y/n meeting in at Yale (where they don’t like each other at all) she being too sensitive and him being too cocky but he secretly liked her the whole time. Never got along or anything. Then they meet again years later in the city, and become friends and fall in love. But with smutty included. Love your lawyer fics ❤️😩😩 so pls make this happen 🙏🏻

Time Will Tell: Part One

note: Hiii, I decided to split this request (which I love btw) into two parts, the second one will drop either Sunday or Monday :) this part is more background story/buildup, hope you enjoy!

words: 3k

warnings: swearing, a bit of angst (??)

“That’s the final one.” Your father grunted as he put down the last huge box on the floor of your dorm room.

“Thank you so much, dad, you’re my hero.” you said, hugging both of your parents tight.

“We’re really proud of you, Y/N. You are going to do so amazing.” You mother whispered, her voice heavy with emotion.

“Thank you so much, guys. I love you. Please give me a call when you get home.” You replied before embracing them one last time, and off they were.

You sighed happily, looking around the room that was going to be your home for the next four years. You were finally a pre-law student at Yale, a dream come true. You gazed out of the window overlooking the campus, beyond exited about all the things to come.

+++

“Alright, settle down.” The voice of your professor sounded over the chatter of your fellow classmates.

You quickly stopped talking with your newfound friend next to you and shifted your attention to the front of the class. It was your very first lecture, and you were almost giddy with excitement about the prospect of learning so much new stuff.

The professor had already started talking, reading out the book list for this semester when suddenly, the door slammed open, and a young man burst into the classroom. He was clearly out of breath, but still grinned at the professor.

“My apologies, Sir.”

His voice was cocky, and you felt an instant burst of dislike at the way he carried himself. He was handsome, tall and broad shouldered with a head full of curls and a winning smile. But it was obvious that he knew just how good he looked, everything about him gave you the impression of another rich, arrogant brat. Yale campus was full of them.

“Just see that it won’t happen again, Mr-?” The professor murmured, clearly displeased.

“It’s Cuomo, Sir.” The guy replied, still grinning, before slumping into the seat next to you.

Cuomo. That rang a bell. You would eat your hat if he hadn’t something to do with the New York Governor, he certainly looked like a politician’s son. You knew you were being slightly prejudiced, but your intuition about those kinds of guys had never betrayed you so far.

As if he could read your mind, the guy in question turned his head to look at you.

"Hi Sweetheart, what’s up? I’m Chris. “

Without even looking up from your notes, you replied.

"If that’s your way of flirting, it sucks. I’m Y/N and not your sweetheart, by the way. How about you pay attention to the lecture now before you get into even more trouble.” It maybe came out more vicious than intended, but you didn’t want this guy to think you would swoon over him just because he had a pretty face.

He just chuckled but turned back to the board.

You were fascinated by the topic of the lecture, eagerly listening and taking notes, the irritating young man next to you long forgotten. When your professor announced that you had to do a group assignment until next week, you promptly turned around to your friend, silently signaling that you wanted to form a pair.

But when the professor started to read out a list of names, your plans were crushed.

"And next we have Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Cuomo.“

"Oh, you can’t be serious.” you murmured under your breath, when someone poked your arm. You turned around and stared right into Cuomos smug face.

“Looks like you and I are having a date after all, sweetheart.”

Well Fuck.

+++

“Ok, we’re going to do it your way, but just because you’re annoying the hell out of me, and I want this to be over as quick as possible.” You groaned, scribbling something onto the paper in front of you.

Not that you would ever admit to it, but working with Chris went better than expected. Yes, he was cocky and arrogant to no ends, but apparently, he wasn’t only in Yale because of his family name. You bickered about almost every decision, but his ideas for the project were actually pretty good and once you got over his stupid jokes and constant unpunctuality, his company was bearable.

“I’m so glad you’re finally acknowledging my genius. My next suggestion is, once we’re finished here, how about you and I grab dinner somewhere together. You look like you’re in serious need of some fun.” He said, winking at you.

The nerve of the guy.

“You think my idea of a good time is going out with you? Wow, you‘re really full of yourself, Cuomo.”

A weird expression flashed over his face, but before you could name it, he was back to his usual smug grin.

“Your loss, sweetheart.”

+++

You got a good grade on your assignment, but we’re still relieved when the professor paired you up with someone else for the next one.

Outside of class, you rarely saw Chris, mainly because you were parts of different crowds. He had joined a fraternity and the football team, and you often spotted him hanging around with the other frat boys on campus.

To you, they were all cut from the same cloth, spoiled, rich boys who’s only concerns were the next party or if they could graduate in time to take over their daddy’s firm. Those were the kind of people you were trying to stay away from.

+++

It was the final party of freshmen year at the frat house, and you had a blast. There was good music and a lot of alcohol, you were glad your friends had managed to drag you along. The frat boys were there as well, obviously, but you paid them no attention while you danced and enjoyed yourself.

After the third round of shots, you were starting to feel slightly dizzy. Apologizing to your friends, you went outside to get some fresh air. In the garden behind the frat house, the dizziness got even worse, and you had to lean against a wall to steady yourself.

“Everything alright?” someone asked from behind you. It was Chris.

“Sure, Cuomo.” You replied, your voice already slurred. “Just had one or two shots to much.”

“You certainly had more than that.” he spoke, getting closer with a slightly worried look on his face.

“Jesus, you look smashed, Y/L/N. Maybe it’s better to go home?”

“Yeah, I probably should get going.” You agreed, feeling incredibly fuzzy by now, and as you tried to walk, you almost fell over your own feet.

“No way you’ll make it to your dorm on your own. I’ll take you.”

You were too drunk to argue with him, so you just murmured something in agreement and leaned a bit against Chris’s huge frame.

“You have so many muscles.” you whispered, but he still heard you and laughed.

“Oh my god, you’re totally wasted, you’re gonna regret this so much tomorrow. Come on, let’s get you home.”

Luckily, the way to your hall wasn’t that long. Chris steadied you with and arm around your shoulder, almost dragging you up the stairs when you finally arrived.

You fumbled with the keys to your room, so he just took them from you to unlock the door.

“Here we are.” Chris announced, softly sitting you down on the edge of your bed. “Sleep, I’ll tell your friends that you’re home safe.”

With a groan, you sunk back into the pillows, closing your eyes.

Chris was still standing in front of your bed, as if he was unsure if he could leave you alone like that.

“You know,” he quietly spoke. “When I was asking you out, at the beginning of the year, I was kind of serious about that, I-…Y/N?”

But you had already fallen asleep, slightly snoring into your pillow.

Sighting, Chris ran his hand through his hair and gave you one last confused look before he left, softly closing the door behind him.

+++

Lucky for you, the next day was the first day of summer break. You were mortified about acting like an idiot in front of Chris Cuomo, but at least you didn’t have to face him for several weeks.

When the new semester started, the two of you saw each other in classes again, but he never brought the incident up. Instead, he went right back to being his insufferable, arrogant self, taunting you at every chance he got.

Your current class mainly consisted of discussions about the latest political and judicial affairs, and Chris and you ripped each other apart at every chance you got.

“You’re living in a dreamland, Y/L/N.” Chris drawled. “Face the facts, those tax increases for the top five percent or whatever it is you are suggesting, they won’t work. It would actually just hurt our economy, not that you understand anything about that. Also, your poker face is terrible” He pointed right at you, and a few of your classmates chuckled.

You almost lost your last drop of patience there and then.

“I am not sure what’s worse, Cuomo, the bullshit coming out of your mouth or your stupid-“

The professor interrupted you, ending the discussion before things could get really ugly.

+++

“I hate his guts.” You growled, taking an aggressive bite of your bagel. You were having lunch with two of your friends between lessons, and Chris Cuomo was a frequently brought up topic in your conversations.

“You certainly talk about him often enough to really make me doubt that.” One of your friends snickered, and the other one added. “You know that he watches you sometimes, right?”

“Bullshit, he hates me.”

“Yes, Y/N, I’m sure he looks at you with those big, blue, dreamy eyes because he despises you so much.”

“You have to admit, he is stupidly hot.” You friend sighted, “He’s so tall, and that face.”

You rolled your eyes at them. “Sure, he’s not exactly ugly, but his personality is. I’m praying we won’t have any more classes together next year or I might really punch him in the face one day.”

+++

Much to your chagrin, fate wasn’t on your side. Junior year rolled along, and again you had several classes with Chris. And as if that wasn’t enough, he started dating a girl you sometimes hung out with and became a regular guest at parties you and your friends were going to.

So not only were you almost killing each other every day in class, you bickered with him in the evenings as well, about every topic from beer brands to foreign policy. And still, when he ended your conversations to get back to his girlfriend, you always got a small sting of something that felt a lot like jealousy.

Since your friends had revealed to you that he was watching you from time to time, you had started to feel a bit restless around him. Somehow, he was able to get under your skin like no one else did, irritating you to a point where some days all you could think about was his stupid face.

Even if it was just to argue and fight, for some reason, you always gravitated to each other.

+++

“That’s it, I’m not listening to any more of your shit.” you shouted. Your latest argument had continued even after class has finished, and by now, you were walking through the hallways almost yelling at each other. People were already staring, and you had enough.

“The truth is hard to swallow, isn’t it?”Chris replied, his usually cool demeanor had dropped and by now he was just as angry as you were.

“The truth is, I’m sick of this and I’m sick of you. We’ve been at each other’s throats for years now. You won’t convince me of anything and vice versa. I have better things to do than fight with you every day. Just leave me alone from now on, please.”your voice has gotten quieter with each sentence, and before you could display too much emotion, you turned around and left Chris standing in the middle of the hallway, a perplexed expression on his face.

This was the right decision, you thought. This guy meant nothing but trouble, and your infuriating relationship had to stop, you had your finals to focus on.

+++

The end of year parties always were a huge thing on campus, but this one was different for you. This was it, Senior year was over, there would be no coming back to Yale in the fall. Nostalgia and relief about the finished finals made you and your friends celebrate like it was your last night ever and beer and liquor were flowing.

You had received your acceptance letter from Georgetown Law some days before, and the opportunity to continue your education in Washington DC was another reason for you to party.

At some point though, the amount of drunk people was starting to become a bit too much for you, and you decided to retreat to the garden for a moment of quiet. As you walked around a couple of trees, you spotted a lonely figure sitting on a bench in the dark.

“Cuomo?” you asked, a bit staggered. Usually, the guy was the life of every party. What was he doing out here all alone?

As if he had read your thoughts, he spoke up. “I was just trying to get some last moments out here, were leaving campus in two days and this always was my favorite spot.”

Who was this guy, and what had he done to the menace you attended class with?

You hadn’t seen that much of him the past months, not after your last argument, but the memories of your numerous encounters were still very present in your head. You had thought about him more often than you’d care to admit.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a nature guy, Cuomo.” you replied “Unless you’d count the lawn on the football field.”

“That’s because you don’t know me, Y/N.” his voice was oddly cold as he looked at you, his eyes almost appearing black in the dark. You tried to ignore how handsome he looked and focused on your dislike for him instead.

“Oh, I know enough. You have shown me everything I need to know about you over the course of the last four years.” You snapped, the alcohol in your system was making your emotions run high.

Chris got up from the bench to plant himself right in front of you. He towered over you and you had to crane your neck to look up at him.

The air between you was bristling with tension, he stood so close to you that your bodies were almost touching.

“Why, because I actually challenged you, delivered some real arguments against you? Until you chickened out?” He shot back, his voice growing louder, his fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t you want to become a lawyer? Better learn to deal with that if you want to survive in court, that’s not a place for soft, overly sensitive people like you.”

“Are you kidding me, you condescending asshole? You don’t have the slightest clue about the life of ordinary people! You’re living in your little Chris Cuomo bubble where everything is perfect and there’s nothing daddy can’t take care of and call me sensitive? I’m thrilled to see how you will be able to handle yourself out in the real world.”you were yelling as well by now, just lashing out to hurt him the way he had hurt you with what he said.

“Don’t act like you fucking know anything about me.“ He shouted, his face clenched in a mask of fury. He opened his mouth to continue, but you spoke first, your voice flat now.

“You’re right. I don’t know you at all.” With that, you turned around and left the garden, running back to your dorm before anyone could see your tears. He would always be the same asshole, and you were mad at yourself for ever believing anything else.

+++

“Christopher Charles Cuomo.”

The crowd around you cheered, whistles and shouts erupting all over the place. Chris climbed the stage, looking unusually serious in his black robe and cap. He took his diploma, shook hands with the dean, and then turned around with the most brilliant smile on his face. He looked carefree, and happy, and when he raised his hand to wave at the crowd, your whole class hollered for him.

“He is so incredibly hot.” Some girl swooned behind you, and you just rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the little stab of sadness you still felt about how you parted ways with him two nights ago.

But when you looked up to the stage again, he was gone, and in that moment you realized that it was very unlikely that you would see Chris Cuomo ever again.

#Chris Cuomo #chris cuomo imagine #chris cuomo fanfiction #chris cuomo fic #chris cuomo x reader #cnn #cnn anchors #fanfiction #request

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ladyreapermc · 4 years

Text

Fic: Undisclosed Desires (Henry x Reader)

Summary: AU. After your run-in with Henry at the sex club, you go back home looking for some time to think about how you’re gonna look at him again come Monday morning. Unfortunately, he’s not about to let you have any time to think.

Part 1: Eyes Wide Shut. | Part 3 Beautiful Problems

Author’s Notes: This is a follow-up for Eyes Wide Shut. That fic took a life of its own and apparently it’s turning into a small ‘verse. I will continue to visit this from time to time because there’s so much potential to it and I’m definitely in love. One small note, in the original fic I said the reader was Henry’s PA, but to make sense with my ending for this one, I had to retcon it and change it to a trainee in the magazine he works for. I’m sorry about that. Feedback is always appreciated.

Wordcount: 5470

Warnings: smut (dom!Henry/sub!reader; bondage; orgasm denial; dirty talk)

You slid to the floor the moment you stepped through the front door of your apartment, your dress in disarray, your hair a mess, your make-up smudged, your cellphone ringing insistently inside your purse but you didn’t bother to look. You knew it was him. Of course, it was him.

Leaning your head against the door, you let out a deep, shaky exhale as you tried to get a grip on yourself and assess the situation you were in. Not only, in your lonely state, you decided it would be a good idea to visit a sex club, but you also ended up having sex with a guy you had never seen before. Or at least that was what you thought at first until his mask came off and it turned out it was Henry.

Your boss. The man you’ve been harboring feelings for the last six months. And he had just fucked you like no other guy in your life. You could actually still feel him all over you. The ghost of his hands in your thighs, as well as his lips all over your body and his smell on your skin. It was almost enough to make something inside you respond with desire. A tightness between your legs making itself known despite the mortification you felt.

Trying to clear your head from those thoughts and memories you picked yourself up from the floor and moved to the bathroom letting your dress fall to the floor and looking at yourself in the mirror. Your chest and shoulders were covered in marks from the bites and sucking kisses Henry had pressed there. Same with your inner thighs. There were finger-shaped bruises forming on each side of your hips from where Henry had held you still while he fucked you senseless.

Fortunately, all of those would be out of sight once you put on some clothes and, despite all the attention Henry lavished your neck, it was the one part of your body he hadn’t left marks. How considerate.

You turned on the shower as hot as it would go needing to wash away at least some of the evidence of your night with Henry. Maybe that way you could at least sleep in peace. As you stood under the hot spray, you couldn’t help but think back on all the girlfriends you have seen Henry with ever since you started working with him.

They were all something straight out of a Victoria Secret catalog, with their long legs and perfectly sculpted bodies. Nothing like you. Not that you thought you weren’t attractive. You knew your attributes and knew how to use them, but with regular guys, not God-like men like Henry, who not only had the great looks but the amazing personality to match.

You had always asked yourself why you had never seen him with a woman for more than a month. Now that you knew of his particular tastes in bed – a taste you apparently shared – you couldn’t help but wonder if that was the reason why. If Henry couldn’t bring himself to show this side of him to them. Not like he had shown it to you.

But he didn’t show it to you, did he? He showed to the supposed stranger he picked up in the club. He said it himself: he didn’t know it was you until your mask came off. Just like you didn’t know it was him either. Did you believe him?

You had to, right? Henry had no reason to expect to see you in that club, just like you had no reason to expect him. That was why you didn’t make the connection, even if you felt drawn to him and perfectly safe from the second you two started talking. Maybe on a deep, subconscious level, you had always known. So, he must have known too, right?

In the end, did it really matter? If you did know or not? He was still your boss. How were you planning on working with him after this? Now that you knew how he looks naked. Now that you knew how his mouth tasted and felt against your skin…

The truth was that you could ignore his calls and texts; hide in your apartment all weekend, but come Monday morning, you would have to face him. You were a trainee in the magazine he worked with. The one that brought in coffee and answered calls, helped with research for articles and organized materials...

For all journalists in the magazine, really but since Henry took you under his wing, you had been almost exclusively working with him and there wasn’t a single aspect of your job that wasn’t done in close proximity to him. So how exactly were you going to do this?

You didn’t have an answer. All you knew it that you weren’t going to come up with it tonight so the best you could do was put this entire thing aside, catch some sleep and hope a bolt of inspiration would reach you come morning.

Putting on an old tank top and a pair of shorts after your shower, you climbed under the covers of your bed, hoping that when you closed your eyes, you wouldn’t dream of his. No such luck, unfortunately.

You spent the night dreaming of Henry. Of his touch and his taste and his voice and his smell and woke up soaked and aching, reaching between your legs almost on autopilot while your other hand teased your nipples, your mind still full of Henry and it took you almost no effort to make yourself come.

It wasn’t nearly as fulfilling as the orgasms you had the night before, but it was still a nice way to fully wake up. You were in a relatively good mood when you got out of bed, humming along with the radio as you started on breakfast, your problems with Henry pushed to the corner of your mind for the time being. You would think about it after your cup of coffee and not a moment sooner.

The knock on your door at this time in the morning was a surprise, but you assumed it was just one of your neighbors. Most likely the lady on 14B who kept misplacing her cat. You thought nothing of it as you bounced towards the door, mouthing the words of some pop song as you pulled the door open without checking through the peephole.

You froze at the sight of Henry standing there hand raised to knock again.

Your first impulse was to close the door on his face, pretend he wasn’t there. How was he there? How did he get your address? How did he manage to come up without you buzzing him in?

“Please don’t close the door on me,” Henry asked as if reading your mind. His blue eyes wide and pleading and how could you resist that?

Against your better judgment, you stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him. You just watched as he stood awkwardly in your foyer, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he waited for you to take the first step.

“Did you have breakfast yet?” you asked with a sigh, leading the way to your kitchen and feeling Henry looming behind you. “And I mean real breakfast, not those disgusting protein shakes you drink first thing in the morning.”

“No,” he admitted, taking a seat at your isle while you popped two more slices of bread on the toaster and added a couple more bacon stripes in your frying pan.

For a moment, the only sounds in the kitchen were the sounds of sizzling and the music playing on the radio as you finished your task. You were hardly a good cook, but you could manage decent bacon and eggs at least.

After setting the plates on the counter, you brought over two mugs of coffee. Henry’s with milk and two sugars just like he preferred, yours black, three sugars, before you took a seat next to him, ignoring the way he was sneaking glances at you in favor of your food.

You could not have this conversation on an empty stomach. If it was up to you, you wouldn’t have this conversation at all. Not today at least, but here was Henry not even warranting you the weekend to process this entire mess before having to face him.

The two of you ate in silence and once you were both done Henry wordless picked up the dirty dishes and washed them. No prompt; no request. Because you needed even more reason to fall in love with him. It just wasn’t fair.

“Can we talk now?” he asked, drying his hands on a dishtowel as he turned to face you.

There he was, standing in your kitchen, the morning light coming from the window hitting his face just right, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones, making the lighter brown shades of his curls more prominent. His blue eyes shining bright and full of uncertainty.

You didn’t really know what possessed you to do this, but you got up and moved into Henry's personal space, grabbing a fistful of his hair and just smashing your lips against his.

His arm came around your waist, pulling you close until you were flush against his strong chest. His other hand coming to your jaw, tilting your face just right so to ease the angle of the kiss and soon enough his tongue was slipping past your lips, sliding against yours as Henry pinned you against the counter.

And how did he do that? How did he take charge so effortlessly when you were the one who initiated? How could he look so unsure only seconds ago and now he was kissing and touching you like he had a map to your body?

“You’re sure?” Henry asked against your lips, thumb rubbing your cheek so softly you felt yourself melting and warmth spreading through your chest.

“Yes, boss,” you declared, your hand coming to cup the bulge in his pants, making Henry groan. Because the last thing you wanted to do was talk. Talking would lead to thinking and thinking to regret and end this. You didn’t want this to end. Not yet.

“Ok,” he whispered, his eyes darkening as much as his tone.

Henry caught your lips again in a bruising kiss. His teeth tugged gently on your lower lip, making you moan and squeeze him firmly through his jeans.

“On your knees. Hands behind your back.”

You obeyed easily, your movements surprisingly fluid as you sat on your heels, your wrists resting on the curve of your ass. You watched him through your lashes as Henry unbuckled his belt and unfastened his jeans, pushing them down his legs only far enough to free his semi-hard cock. Resting a hand on top of your head, he stroked himself and you could only watch, desire shooting through you.

“Have you ever done this?” He asked, voice raspy and hoarse.

“Suck a dick?” You asked in confusion. Did he think you were some sort of blushing virgin?

“Have your mouth fucked,” Henry clarified, his thumb tracing your lips. “Having a cock so deep inside your mouth it hits your throat and you can barely breathe, only choke on it.” His words were slow and deliberate, his tone seductive, painting the picture for you and making heat spread through your body. “So far down you’re gagging, tears in your eyes as you moan for more…”

You were so wet from just his words. The temptation of moving forward, just taking him in your mouth growing at each passing second that you watched him touch himself.

“Please, boss,” you whined, blinking up at him. “I want it.”

“Remember your safe word?” Henry asked and you nodded. “Gesture too?” Once again you nodded. “Good. Then come here, baby.”

He tugged gently on your hair until you crawled closer. Enough to smell the heady scent of his sex. Holding himself, he pressed the tip of his cock against the seam of your lips, letting you taste him first. You hummed as precum smeared over your lips and you licked them clean before you parted them in welcome.

Loosening your jaw and covering your teeth, you let Henry push deeper, getting more of his erection inside your mouth. He was quite big and thick, and you could feel his cock heavy in your tongue, the head rubbing against the roof of your mouth until he pulled back again.

Henry started slow, giving you time to adjust, but at each thrust he pushed deeper and deeper, holding it there for longer until you were moaning, hands clenching behind your back until he pulled back and you could properly draw breath again, your head dizzy, your panties drenched, your body desperate for more.

Soon he was hitting the back of your throat with every stroke, making you gag and gasp for breath, drool running down your chin and the aching need between your legs turning unbearable. Especially with the way Henry grunted and panted above you, head thrown back in ecstasy as he fucked your mouth.

You just needed to alleviate a bit of the pressure building inside you. That was all. Sneaking your hands between your legs, you rubbed your clit, groaning around your mouthful at the first thrill of pleasure.

It didn’t last long. Your attention brought back when Henry pulled his cock completely out of your mouth, using his hold on your hair to tilt your head up so you could look at him. You whimpered, not in pain but in need.

“What are you doing, baby?” he asked, eyebrow arched, and you blinked at him in confusion. He nodded towards you and you glanced down at yourself, at the way your hand was tucked inside your shorts. “Who allowed you to touch yourself?”

“Sorry, boss.”

Henry tsked in disappointment and helped you to get on your feet again, your back to his chest as he nuzzled your cheek and temple, one hand holding your wrists behind your back, the other running over your cunt. You were shaking, wanting nothing more than for him to touch and finger you. Instead, he slapped your sex gently, making you buckle and moan. Your clit throbbing even more as your head lolled back against his chest.

“You’re showing terrible behavior, baby,” Henry whispered against your ear. “Running out on me last night; ignoring my calls; touching yourself without permission… I think you need some punishment.” His words sent another thrill through your body. “Don’t you agree?”

You knew what he was doing. Asking for your permission. Making sure this was still ok. That he wasn’t crossing the line. Part of you was excited to see what Henry would do to you, but a little voice kept telling you that this was a bad idea. You needed to end things, not get even deeper into the rabbit hole.

“Yes, boss,” you said, at last, feeling his smile against your temple as he let go of your hands.

“Show me your bedroom. Eyes forward.”

With a nod, you led the way, walking in front of him and resisting the urge to look behind yourself. You almost gave in when you heard the noise of leather against fabric as well as the clink of metal against metal. You just knew he was taking off his belt.

You stepped inside your bedroom, walking all the way to the foot of the bed before stopping, turning your head just enough so Henry could see you were awaiting further instructions, but without glancing behind yourself.

He stepped closer to you, his warmth seeping through your thin sleeping clothes as he pulled one of your arms behind your back, then the other. Leather slip past your hands, surrounding your wrists, loosely at first, then after a quick tug, it tightened.

“How’s that?” he asked. “Too tight?”

“No, boss,” you replied, moving your wrists against the makeshift belt handcuffs he made. There was enough space between your flesh and the leather, but no way for you to get out unless he released you. You drew a shaky breath in anticipation.

“On your knees, face and shoulders on the bed,” he instructed, and you struggled to obey, the position awkward and leaving your exposed and vulnerable, especially with your hands tied behind your back and your ass up in the air.

Your breath picked up speed and your heart was thundering as you waited for what Henry would do next. You jumped when he ran his rough palms over your thighs, spreading your knees a little wider before he kneaded your ass and kissed your spine.

“Relax baby,” he asked, rubbing your lower back soothingly. “This is gonna be good. I promise.”

You tried to even your breathing while Henry pressed soft, wet kisses all over your back, his fingers teasing you through your shorts until you were rocking back against his fingers, asking for more, completely forgetting the position you were in.

“That’s better,” he whispered and finally pulled your shorts down. “You’re soaked already. My naughty girl.”

Henry pressed a kiss to your wet folds, before running his tongue over them, exploring you. You moaned and fought the urge to writhe as he pushed his tongue inside, fingers toying with your clit. He was good. So damn good. Every touch, every kiss perfectly planned to get maximum response from your body and in moments Henry had you meowing pleas, your body quaking and pleasure coiled in your lower belly ready to snap.

You were so damn close you could taste it and that was when he pulled back, nipping at your ass cheek and making you jump. Your mind so dizzy it took you a couple of seconds to process what was happening.

“This is a punishment, baby. Not a reward,” Henry announced, his voice smug as he caressed your shaky thighs. “You come when I feel you deserve it.”

Henry kissed your cunt again, before his fingers brushed against your slit, spreading your wetness, reigniting your pleasure. All you could focus on was the delicious heat starting in your core and spreading through your body as he thrust two fingers in and out. Slowly at first, then speeding up as you pushed back against his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers.

Once again you felt the crest of your orgasm building and growing like a wave, making your entire body tense. Your toes curled, your fist clenched, your eyes were squeezed shut, your nipples hard and at every brush against the shirt, tiny sparkles of pleasure flowed through you. You were almost there once again. Once again Henry stopped.

“FUCK!” You shouted in frustration and you wanted to slap him because the son of a bitch actually chuckled, his hands soothing your back. “I hate you.”

“Of course, you do,” he kissed up your spine again, his hands coming around your belly and under your shirt, caressing your ribs before kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples and you groaned and buckled against him desperate for more.

“You’re a fucking bastard, you know that?” you spat angry and frustrated as he bit your shoulder.

“Be glad I don’t put you over my knee and spank this ass red,” he growled, one hand coming down to squeeze your ass cheeks roughly. “You’re being a brat and that’s what brats deserve.”

You couldn’t help yourself. Despite the frustration, you moaned at the thought. Maybe you weren’t all that opposed to spanking. At least not with Henry.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he spoke against your ear, voice teasing, fingers pushing into you again. “Me spanking you.”

“Yes, boss,” you admitted, exhaling shakily.

You could almost picture it. His large hand descending over your ass. The sound of skin against skin loud in the quiet room, being cut only by your cries and the counting. You bet Henry would only stop when your cheeks were red, warm and, tender from the abuse.

One more time you were rocking against his fingers, fucking yourself. The mental image your brain just conjured making you so aroused you were drenched. You could hear the squelching sound of Henry knuckles hitting your swollen cunt, your clit throbbing painfully.

“Boss, please,” you sobbed, tears in your eyes. You wanted to come so bad it was starting to hurt.

“Apologize,” Henry growled.

“Sorry. I’m sorry, boss,” you babbled desperately, your orgasm building again.

“For what? What are you apologizing for?”

“For touching myself without permission.”

“And?” he prompted, his voice sounding a little more distant, his pace losing a little coordination.

“Cursing you,” you replied, mind foggy.

“And?” Henry asked again, voice slightly muffled and you had to force yourself to think. What else were you being punished for? You heard a foil being ripped before he spoke again. “Baby? Say it.”

“For running away.” Your voice broke slightly at the thought. “For not answering your calls. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Henry.”

A silence fell over the two of you. You had been so embarrassed and terrified last night… but maybe if you had stayed, maybe if the two of you had talked, it would have been for the better. Maybe there could be a way for the two of you to make things work.

“Good girl,” Henry whispered, kissing your neck and shoulders. His body draped over yours. “My good girl.” He pulled his fingers away again and you whimpered. “Mine.”

You barely had time to process that as Henry pushed his cock inside you, making you shout because this was what you wanted. What you needed even. Him filling you up, stretching you so perfectly your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he waited for your to adjust. His hands come to your shoulders to pull you back until you sitting upright on his lap. You sighed in relief at the removal of pressure on your shoulders and neck.

“Ok?” he panted against your shoulder, pushing your hair to the side and you nodded, the feeling of him so deep inside you making you speechless.

Henry once again started slow, you noticed. His hips barely pulling back before he pushed in again. Granted, this position didn’t give him much room to maneuver, but it felt so good, his hands exploring your body, his mouth kissing and biting the exposed skin of your neck and shoulder as he rocked his hips.

Soon, his pace increased his body moving harder and faster against yours, encouraged by the cries, curses, and pleas falling from your lips. His grip on your body tightening and holding you still, thumb working your tender clit.

There it was again, the heat building inside you, starting in your lower belly, coiling your muscles, becoming the only thing you could focus on.

“Can I come, please, Boss?” The words slipped from your lips without you even noticing them and you felt Henry nodding.

“Yeah, baby. Now you can come,” he conceded, his kisses gentle, almost coaxing as the wave of your pleasure finally crashed through you.

Your back arched like a bow. Your thighs quaking, your hands, still restrained behind your back, fisting Henry’s shirt. Bright dots busting behind your eyelids as you could barely draw a breath. Your walls pulsing around Henry’s cock, gripping him tight and he cursed against your shoulder, moaning your name as he came too.

Resting against Henry’s strong chest, you caught your breath, fighting off the daze of sleep. You were never like this. Sleepy after sex, but he worked you out so well. Your body was exhausted, your mind quiet for the first time in the last 12 hours and you just wanted to enjoy it.

“Henry?” you mumbled, eyelids heavy, tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of him. “Stay?”

“For as long as you want me to,” he said, kissing your lips softly. “Sleep. I’ll take care of everything, baby.”

“Hmmm. ‘kay,” you whispered, already drifting off.

It had been a while since you woke up sated and pleasantly sore, surrounded by warmth, a strong arm holding you close, a hard chest pillowing your head, rough fingers drawing patterns on your back under your shirt and making you shiver.

You forgot how much you missed it. How long has it been since your last relationship? Too long. Not that you should be thinking of this a relationship. Henry was still your boss and you had no idea where the two of you stood. Being compatible in sex didn’t make you compatible with everything else.

With a sigh, you shifted in Henry’s embrace and he loosened his hold enough for you to raise your head and look at him. He was propped on the headboard, in his jeans, glasses perched on his nose, reading something on his phone. He looked over at you, a smile pulling on his lips and your heart sped up.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he replied, pressing a kiss on your forehead and you froze, unsure of what to do. “Anything hurt?”

“Yes,” you admitted, sitting up. “But not in a bad way. What are you doing?”

“Reading that report on fracking you’ve been nagging me about since last week.”

Henry flashed you a smirk that you almost returned, but the entire thing felt too weird for you to just slip back into the easy camaraderie you two shared when working together. Apparently, he noticed, because, with a sigh, Henry set his phone and glasses on the bedside table. Like they belonged there. Like he belonged in your bed.

“We should talk,” he said and once again your heart sped up, but this time for a completely different reason. Anxiety. Fear. Panic.

You couldn’t help yourself. You got out of bed, catching sight of your shorts on top of the dresser and pulling them back on. Which was ridiculous because Henry had seen you naked last night and he had done very dirty things to you today, so what was the point?

“Can you sit down, please?” he asked, patting the bed. You exhaled slowly in a weak attempt of centering yourself as you took a seat. “And maybe look at me.”

You raised your head, meeting Henry’s gaze, seeing the same uncertainty in his gaze as you had seen earlier. It was a small comfort to know that he shared your nervousness.

“Did you know?” you asked in a low voice. “Last night? That it was me?”

“Not until I took off your mask,” he said, his tone pleading you to believe him. “That was the last place I expected to find you.” You snorted because that was an understatement. “But I’m glad I did.”

“You are?” Surprise colored your voice as you looked at Henry in confusion. He paused, eyes searching and all you could do was stare back. This time, Henry was the one who snorted.

“You didn’t know,” he whispered seemingly more to himself than you. “Amy was right, then. As usual.”

“Henry, you’re not making any sense,” you said. What was he on about? And what did the other journalist had to do with it?

“I have feelings for you,” he declared, his tone almost matter-of-factly. “Which is quite inappropriate since I’m your boss.”

To hear that word in his voice, in that low baritone, made a thrill of want run down your spine. You bit your lip to prevent a small groan from escaping your mouth and noticed the way Henry shifted on his seat, looking away from you as he cleared his throat.

You were very familiar with that gesture. He did often when you said or did something to make him uncomfortable. Your gaze dropped to his lap, at the way his cock twitched against his jeans. Not uncomfortable. Aroused.

“Oh,” you said dumbly, several interactions between the two of you replaying on your mind with a whole different meaning.

The way he would fidget whenever you fixed his blazer or the collar of his dress shirt. The sharp intakes of breath when you bent over his shoulder to fix a simple thing on his computer that he always seemed to struggle with. How he always kept his eyes fixed on yours whenever you wore a lowcut blouse… How had you not noticed any of that before? Geez! You were dense.

“Why did you say something?” you asked.

“One: I didn’t know you felt the same,” Henry pointed out. “And two: I didn’t want to ruin things between us. There is a reason why my relationships never last.”

“You mean…” you trailed off, gesturing at the bed and he chuckled and shook his head.

“Because I’m a workaholic,” he corrected. “I don’t share my sexual preferences with just anyone.”

“You mean you don’t usually tie people up in your first date?” you joked, and he chuckled again, shaking his head. “But you did with me. Even if you didn’t know who I was.”

“Because I knew you wanted it. That you trusted me to stop if you asked,” Henry said, twisting the bedsheet under his hand. “Maybe I did know, at some level, that it was you. There’s no one I trust more, and it felt different.”

You knew what he meant because you felt the same. In a room full of strangers, he was the only one that made you feel at ease and you didn’t hesitate to follow him into the bedroom and put yourself in his capable hands.

“It’s different when you do this with someone you really care about…” Henry mused, looking at you. “It’s always pleasurable, but when it’s someone you like, it just…”

“Mind-blowing?” you offered with a small, hesitant smile. You might not be experienced in these things, but it definitely didn’t feel like anything you felt before.

“Yeah,” Henry nodded. “Enough that you don’t want to give up all that easily.”

There was an underlying sadness in his voice. A type of resignation. He was certain you two wouldn’t be doing this again. A small bolt of panic hit you. You didn’t want that to happen. Not now that you knew what it felt like to be with him. Not when you now knew it could be more.

Now that you knew that the smile he flashed you every morning when you brought his coffee was more than just gratitude. Or the spark that seemed to ran through you whenever you two touched might ran through him too. Maybe there really was a different warmth in his voice whenever he spoke to you, no matter how frustrated he was. Maybe he really meant it when he said you were his favorite person in the world…

“Do we have to give it up?” you asked, and Henry gave you a sad smile.

“I’m your boss. It’s against the magazine’s code of conduct.”

Your mind worked a mile a minute while you thought about this. You knew he was technically right, but maybe… An idea hit you. Insane, but might just work.

“And if I was your colleague, not a trainee?”

“Sure, but…” Henry started saying, but you were already on your feet again, a plan starting to form on your head.

“Ok, you didn’t hear this from me, but Lawrence is thinking about retiring,” you confided, making his eyes go wide, mouth hanging open. “I have lunch with his secretary at least once a week. She tells me everything,” you explained before Henry can even think about asking. “If he goes, the editor position for the magazine will be open and everyone knows it would be between you and Amy.”

“And Amy is his favorite…” Henry nodded, his lips tilting into a grin as he caught on with your line of thought. “With Amy in the editor chair, the magazine will need someone to fill in her shoes.”

“Exactly!” You grinned, crawling back in bed and towards him. “We just need to make sure that’s me.”

“Are you actually suggesting we date in secret for the next…”

“Six months. Maybe eight,” you offered at his pause.

“Six, maybe eight months in the hopes Lawrence retires, Amy gets the editor’s chair and you get a promotion, knowing that if anyone finds out we’ll both be out of a job?”

“Yes.” You nodded, excitement coursing through you as you came to sit in his lap, arms around his shoulders. “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Are you in?”

“What the hell!?” Henry shrugged, grinning too. “Secrets are kind of hot.” He declared, meeting your lips for a kiss.

This might just work after all. And maybe, in the end, you would not only get the guy of your dreams but the job too.

xxx

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pointy-hat-witch · 4 years

Text

My gift for @smol-fatale for the @fyeahbnha secret santa event!! I had lots of fun writing it! Hope you enjoy it! I never wrote a ShinKami fic so I hope I did them justice! :)

Title: Hot Stuff Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Word count: 7233 words Summary: In which Shinsou’s Christmas Miracle happens in form of a broken stove and an electrician.

You can also read it on AO3! :)

Shinsou was, generally speaking, a loner by choice, mind you. He enjoyed his own company, living at his own pace. So, when Midoriya slowly but steadily made himself a presence in his life, he initially didn’t notice. And by the time he did, it was already too late.

Together with Uraraka, Midoriya’s almost-sorta-girlfriend(?), they moved into a three bed-room-apartment rather close to their uni. Every now and then, Shinsou asked himself how it ended up like that but whenever he thought about it, he reached to the conclusion that he didn’t really mind, after all. He found these friends, or rather they found him and now they’re his family.

Well, until moments like these.

Shinsou came home from one of his late lectures, and it was already dark outside which was no surprise for mid-december anyway. Because he was hungry, the lecture dragged on as it was and his last meal had been some time ago, he just wanted to fix himself a fast meal and watch a movie before passing out.

So, when he came home he first noticed the silence, the eerie silence. After around a year and half living with friends, he was fluent in reading the atmosphere, that was why he knew something was up. He was certain that Midoriya and Uraraka should be home already and that they hadn’t anything planned for tonight.

“Hello?” He patiently half-shouted into their apartment from their entry hall as he slipped out of his shoes. There was a shuffle in the kitchen and some muffled voices. Something was definitely amiss. Shinsou sighed.

Preparing himself mentally, he left his bag where it was, put on his slippers and slowly made his way toward the kitchen. He didn’t sneak up or anything but when he appeared in the door, both Uraraka and Midoriya jumped up as if he was Satan himself. They pressed their shoulders together, standing as rigid as humanly possible and their faces, hh god, Shinsou would have cracked at least a smile if his gut didn’t say something was awfully wrong.

“W-w-w-what’s up, Shinsou? Home already, huh? Kinda thought you would have come a little later, like you know, you could have gotten a coffee because it’s so late and you would have taken a bus later or even walked, so we didn’t really thought you would be-“ Midoriya continued babbling but Shinsou already zoned out, staring neutrally over to Uraraka.

And, oh, Uraraka. “Why on earth don’t you breathe?” Shinsou interrupted Midoriya as he slowly squinted at her round cheeks, her eyes almost bulging out.

“Baaaah!“ Uraraka pushed out all of her breath she held in and then took a deep breath afterward.

“Sorry, ahhh,” she whined, fanning herself, “I was getting so nauseous and just had to.”

“Why did you feel nauseous?” Shinsou’s voice cut through the air that was as thick as butter.

“Uhhhh,” Midoriya and Uraraka looked at each other in panic but after a couple of silent seconds exhaled defeatedly. Whatever it was, they couldn’t keep him in the dark forever. They each took a step to the side, moving away from each other to show him the disaster.

“What am I looking at, guys?” Shinsou asked, fully aware of what he was looking at. But he needed them to say it.

“We, uh,” Uraraka gesticulated wildly without saying anything, looking at every possible thing in the room except Shinsou and that. Shinsou’s gaze wandered over to Midoriya who’s shoulders were perched up, elbows close to his body while mumbling inconceivable into one of his hands.

“Guys.” Shinsou sighed. “Just, what happened?”

“We wanted to make dinner,” Uraraka whined, “for you, you know? Mondays are bad as they are and you have a full day of classes so we thought we could, uh, make you dinner.”

Midoriya nodded, his hair bobbing with the motion. “And we just got started, like prepping and we needed flour for the batter and it-“

“It just,” Uraraka threw her arms in the air, “the glass container just slipped through my fingers.”

“And fell on the stove.”

“And fell on the stove.” Shinsou mumbled, nodding solemnly. Yeah, this was his chosen family. Smashing their ceramic stove plate with a glass of flour. He stared at the abomination. The cupboard right next to the stove was a little higher than usual, so Uraraka had probably stood on her toes to reach the glass and it must have bounced off her arm right in the middle of the stove plate, smashing it into pieces. Everywhere black shards. Leaving the stove irreparable.

“Did you get hurt?” Shinsou asked as he kneeled down to pick up some of the bigger pieces.

“No!” They both shook their heads.

“Then that’s all that matters.” Complaining about spilled milk wouldn’t do neither of them any good. He knew it was an accident, shit happens.

“We’re sorry, Shinsou.”

Shinsou blinked and looked up. Both Uraraka and Midoriya looked at the floor, Uraraka fighting off tears and Midoriya balling his hands into fists.

Yeah, those were his family. If he would have been still with his blood relatives they- no. Shinsou didn’t think about that anymore.

Shinsou shook his head, almost smiling fondly. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t get hurt, so it doesn’t matter. We can just order food.”

Averting another disaster, as Uraraka and Midoriya looked like they wanted to jump on him to smother him with their affection, Shinsou got them to help him clean up the kitchen, before they ordered food, which his friends paid for, and watched a movie until he passed out.

He woke up the next morning with his blanket thrown over him and he indulged himself for another five minutes, snuggling into the heavy blanket. But, alas, even though he only had two classes in the afternoon, he had some homework from the day before, so he had to get up eventually. And the earlier the better.

When he got up, he noticed a small piece of paper on the couch table with his name neatly written on.

Curious, he picked it up and unfolded it.

“Dear Shinsou,

we hope you slept well. You looked like you were dead at least.. Sorry again for the stove. Please call the landlord about it. He likes you.

Love,

Your besties!!”

Shinsou couldn’t decide whom of them he wanted to strangle first. Letting out a silent groan, Shinsou let himself fall back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Today was an even more low energy day than usual, so the thought about calling someone was already taking a toll on him.

They all knew, Aizawa wouldn’t yell at them or anything. He was the best landlord you could get, honestly. Not they often, say, smash their stove plate but if they needed anything done in their apartment he would get it done in a few days. Sometimes, he even just came over to talk and check in if they’re alright, studying and working and all that.

And Shinsou and he may or may not clicked right from the start. They both were low-tension, didn’t talk around the bush and didn’t need to tiptoe around each other. If he could choose, Shinsou kind of wanted to have him as a dad. But that was something he would ever say out loud.

Still, why he needed to call him was beyond him.

He searched around for his phone blindly, not bothering looking away from the ceiling. When he finally found it, his finger scrolled through his contacts, their landlord a commonly called number. Shinsou sighed. He dialed.

“What did they do now?” Aizawa’s voice was gruff, probably only just gotten out of bed himself, for what Shinsou felt a little guilty. They both didn’t like talking on the phone, but both his roommates and his spouse were notorious in getting them to do it.

“They broke the stove plate.” He cut right to the chase.

“They did what now?”

“Dropped a glass on it. Smashed it.”

“They smashed the-,” Aizawa mumbled in disbelief to himself.

“Do you have an electrician or a company you use for stuff like that? I can call them. And we pay, of course. Our fault.”

“Their fault,” Aizawa pointed out, “but yeah. I know someone. I’ll give them a call.”

They agreed that the electrician either comes until 1 pm or the next day in the evening and their call ended. As short as it was and for some may sound a little standoff-ish, Shinsou liked those calls the most. They weren’t as dreadful as those where he had to make small talk and offend the other person by not being the friendliest customer or something.

When he finally was done with that, he fixed himself a bowl of cereal and then sat down on his desk to get some work done before heading off to uni.

When the doorbell rang, Shinsou almost flinched, hunched over his notes about commonly known phobias. Geez. He rubbed his face as he stumbled over to the door, not thinking twice about making himself any more presentable. He, first of all, didn’t give a flying fuck about what an electrician would think about him, and secondly, it was a apartment with three students, what could anyone expect?

What he didn’t expect, was to look into the bright face of someone his age, grinning around a lollipop.

“Yo!” He almost shouted, as he pushed up his cap a little, grinning around his lollipop even wider.

“Hi.” Shinsou answered in the most monotonous voice he could muster but it didn’t deter the other to smile any less.

“I heard you have a broken stove.”

“Yeah.” He stepped aside, letting the guy inside. “First door to the right.”

“Gotcha!” He nodded, pulling his feet out of his shoes. “Oh, I’m Kaminari, by the way.”

“Uh-huh.” Shinsou wasn’t sure how to handle this ball of energy. Literally. When the electrician took his cap off, clipping it to his belt, his yellow hair showed a black streak in his fringe which resembled a flash of lighting. His steps had a little spring to them, his fingers kept tapping to some rhythm, his eyes darting around. And Shinsou only knew this guy for about ten seconds.

“Oh.” Kaminari said as he entered the kitchen. “Well, yeah, that is fucked. In my professional opinion, of course.” He threw his head back and laughed. He fucking laughed at his own joke. “How in god’s name did you do that, man?” Kaminari walked up to the smashed stove plate, without the glass shards mind you, looking at it in fascination.

“My roommates dropped a glass on it.” Shinsou crossed his arms lazily, leaning against the kitchen door frame. “What can you do about it?”

“That sounds like your roommates are a blast!” He laughed again, pushing his lollipop around in his mouth. “Well, I am great at my job but that,” he pointed at the broken ceramic plate, “even I can’t fix that. Got to get you a new one.”

“Figured as much.” Shinsou groaned. “How long will that take?”

“Not that long,” Kaminari mused, pulling out a folding rule. “Oh, did you take out the fuse?”

“Huh?”

Kaminari laughed, again. “That answers it, hehe. Where is your fuse box?” Though Kaminari laughed again and again and kept a lazy smile on his lips, Shinsou never felt that he laughed at him, he just was … amused. And it kinda made it easier to talk to him.

“Over there,” Shinsou pointed back to the entrance hall, next to the small coat rack.

“Gotcha!” Kaminari hopped over to it, with one look flipped one of the like fifty switches, which Shinsou had only a very, very general idea for what they were, and danced back into the kitchen.

“Didn’t plan on getting fried by a smashed stove today!” He winked at Shinsou as he laid down his folding rule to measure the plate.

Shinsou was frozen on the spot. Did he just wink at him? Was he … no. He was just like that, that wasn’t anything weird, was it?

“Alrighty,” Kaminari mumbled around his lollipop, writing some numbers on his notepad that he pushed back into one of his numerous pockets. “It’s a standard stove plate, so nothing hard to get by. I would say tomorrow, the day after tomorrow the latest I can install the new one. Does one of the days work better for you?”

Shinsou blinked himself out of his own stupor, mentally going through his schedule. “I could do tomorrow evening or the evening after that.”

“Tomorrow it is then!” Kaminari smiled around his now almost vanished lollipop. “Uh, can I have your phone number? Just in case, it doesn’t work out for whatever reason, you know?”

“Sure.” Shinsou nodded, rattling off his number. Kaminari typed at his phone, throwing Shinsou a quick glance, clearing his throat.

“And, uh, I didn’t catch your name?”

There was a beat silence, before Shinsou answered slowly.

“Shinsou Hitoshi. Got it.” Kaminari smiled. His fingers fished out another lollipop, unwrapping it so fast Shinsou has never seen anyone do it before and popping it into his mouth. The other stick wandered into a small container with at least five other empty sticks. Uh, okay.

“Well then, Shinsou,” Kaminari said in his usual loud voice, Shinsou just figured out, “see you tomorrow!”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Shinsou nodded as Kaminari slipped back into his shoes and then was out the door after a short wave.

Shinsou didn’t know how long he stood in the entrance hall after Kaminari left. It was kinda like a storm passing by and Shinsou had to process what just happened. Like, nothing bad happened, Kaminari did his job, was friendly, professional. But… but why did it feel like there so much more that happened?

Shinsou shook his head. It was just their wavelengths that were way off and it just was too much all of the sudden, Shinsou figured. Though, if Kaminari felt like so high tension and brimming with energy, why didn’t Shinsou feel drained in the least?

---

Since he only had morning classes, Shinsou spent the afternoon with his roommates. They brought some takeout with them on their way home, so they had some warm food at least. Shinsou was appreciative of them buying all the food, college students being notoriously broke as they were, though it didn’t come up yet, Shinsou planned to chip in with the repair costs, of course. They’re his closest friends after all.

Of course they did speak about the short visit of the electrician and in hindsight, Shinsou ought to know better, but he brought up the topic just to inform them. But he must have slipped in something of the sort that he felt weirdly calm around this energetic guy, because they both brought up sudden plans right after.

So, when 7 p.m. rolled around, he was all alone in the apartment again. And his heart was weirdly pounding in his chest. That was why he literally flinched when his phone rang on full blast. He forgot to put his volume back down after watching a cat video because who the fuck did call anybody these days?

The number was unknown and everything in him screamed to just not pick up. But then his finger was already sliding the “accept” button to the side.

“Shinsou speaking.” He pinched his nose, already berating himself for getting on the phone with a stranger.

“Ah! Hey, Shinsou! It’s Kaminari! The electrician? From yesterday. Because of the stove?” Kaminari’s voice was even louder through the phone, practically screaming in his ear and Shinsou had to hold his phone away before turning down the output volume.

“Yeah, Kaminari. I remember. What’s up?” Shinsou licked his lips, his mouth gone dry all of the sudden.

“I just wanted to check in, if I can come in around half an hour?” There was some traffic noise in the background, he probably just finished up his last customer.

“Yeah, half an hour. I’m here.”

“Perfect! Then I’m just gonna pick up your wonderful new stove plate and come right over!”

“Great.”

Kaminari chuckled and Shinsou’s skin prickled. It even sounded like he had yet another lollipop between his lips, clacking occasionally against his teeth.

“See you soon, Shinsou!” Kaminari hung up before Shinsou could even say anything. He let his phone fall out of his hand on the couch, pressing his hands against his face as he leaned back. What was going on with him? He … was looking forward to seeing Kaminari again? What in the ever loving fuck?

The next half hour went by agonizingly slowly since Shinsou looked at his phone every other minute, both to check the time but also, and he would never admit to it, maybe getting another call from the electrician.

When it (finally) rang at the door, Shinsou had to force himself not to run to the door. Purposefully slowly he opened the door to Kaminari leaning against the stove plate, properly secured in Styrofoam.

“Hey,” he grinned around his lollipop, “I chose the best stove for you!”

“Tha-“

“Out of a range of options!” Kaminari proceeded to put his hands up, motioning finger guns, while winking at Shinsou. And then snorted with laughter himself.

Shinsou didn’t know what did it for him. The absolute absurdity of the situation, the worst pun he ever heard, or Kaminari laughing at his own joke. Maybe all together. But he had to turn his head to the side and snort behind his hand.

“I saw that!” Kaminari yowled, high fiving himself. “Still got it!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Shinsou asked in the least serious way possible.

“Come on! That was funny!” Kaminari grinned, pulling off his shoes as he more or less invited himself in. Well, Shinsou did step aside to let him in anyway.

“It wasn’t really.” He shook his head, hands pushed inside his pockets as he didn’t know what to do with them.

“But you laughed!” Kaminari exclaimed, carrying the stove plate that looked like it weighted nothing in his arms over to the kitchen.

“I laughed because it was stupid.”

“Whatever the reason, I made you laugh!” Kaminari threw a quick glance over his shoulder at him, before putting the stove plate down right in front of the destroyed one.

“You didn’t turn on the fuse again, did you?”

Shinsou shook his head. “Why would we? I think you were the first one to ever touch that box in this household to begin with.”

That made Kaminari throw his head back with laughter. Why, Shinsou didn’t know but it made him feel warm that something he said made Kaminari laugh so earnestly.

“Are your roommates ever home?” Kaminari opened the cupboard underneath the broken stove plate, getting his flashlight to look at the high-tension socket. “Or just to break your stuff?”

Shinsou could see Kaminari’s shoulders tremble as he suppressed his laughter. Taking a deep breath and exhaling silently through his mouth, Shinsou leaned against the doorframe.

“They had some plans. Suddenly,” he added under his breath, shaking his head. “We do lots of stove together, don’t worry. They’re great friends.”

Kaminari’s whole body shook, giggling silently. He pulled out a small screwdriver and undid the lid of the outlet. There were a couple of silent seconds as Kaminari carefully pulled out the few wires, before coming up again.

“Wanna give me a hand?” He grinned, setting the flashlight to the side, still kneeling on the ground.

“And doing your job without getting paid?” Shinsou answered but stepped up next to the other regardless.

“Ha, you wish!” Kaminari pushed his lollipop around in his mouth, grinning widely. “Okay, just lift the plate when I push it up.”

“And I won’t get electrocuted for sure?”

“Alas, I’m too good at my job for this to happen. An unfortunate circumstance of being gorgeous and talented.” Kaminari shrugged, shaking his head with a mock devastated expression. Shinsou snorted against his better judgment and didn’t acknowledge the knowing grin from Kaminari.

The plate lifted up a few centimeters as Kaminari pushed it from below and Shinsou grabbed it around the edges, raising it up a little higher. It was, indeed, lighter than he thought.

“Great, thanks.” Kaminari stood up and took it off Shinsou’s hands, standing so close to him he could smell the strawberry scented lollipop through his lips. Kaminari put the broken plate flat on the ground, so as to not let any loose shards fall off. Shinsou stepped back to the side when Kaminari lifted up the other stove plate, put it into its designated place and was back on his knees within seconds. Talk about efficiency.

Another few hand movements and the wires were back in place, the lid was screwed back on the socket and Kaminari stood back up.

“Done and done. Just a last check.” He jogged out of the kitchen and Shinsou was surprised that he still knew where the fuse box was. He heard the switch being flipped and then Kaminari was jogging back in.

“Moment of truth.”

Kaminari turned one of the four knobs on the stove plate and with a silent electric vibration one of the four panels slowly turned red. Kaminari grinned self-satisfied and turned it off again.

“Perfect. Everything as it should be?”

“Yeah, uh, thanks.” Shinsou nodded, a little impressed. That wasn’t complicated in the least and didn’t take as much time as he thought. Probably a lot more expensive than expected, though.

“Great, then I just need you to,” Kaminari fumbled through his pockets to pull out some piece of paper, “sign these papers off. To accept the repair and that stuff.” Kaminari tapped on some boxes Shinsou had to tick and the line he had to sign on.

“Yeah, sure.” Shinsou accepted the pen Kaminari pulled out of another pocket. For a second Shinsou skimmed over the paper, just to be totally sure he wasn’t in some kind of high caliber scam or something but everything seemed to be in order, so he signed it.

“Then we’re done here.” Kaminari folded the paper back into his pocket and saluted Shinsou lazily. “My pleasure.”

“Uh, sure.” Shinsou’s thoughts came to a screeching stop as he realized that Kaminari was about to leave. Like, for good. And somehow it made him anxious. He didn’t want him to leave, instead he wants to hear more bad puns and his contagious laughter.

“Have a nice holiday!” Kaminari crunched the last bit of his lollipop and waved.

“Uh, yeah, thanks. You, too. Don’t get electrocuted by another smashed stove. Or something.” Shinsou pulled at one strand of his hair, unsure where to look.

“I’ll be careful!” Kaminari laughed, popping in another lollipop. “Well, then. See you, hot stove,” Kaminari winked and was out of the door. Leaving Shinsou staring at the closed door.

What the fuck?

---

It didn’t help at all, that Uraraka was literally rolling on the carpet in the living room and Midoriya’s shoulders shook while making a face as to no burst out laughing, when Shinsou told them about his second encounter with the electrician. He never regretted moving in with them more than in that moment.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Midoriya held a finger up before covering his mouth, mumbling something Shinsou didn’t quite get. Uraraka sat up, wiping away the tears that kept on rolling over her cheeks.

“So, what if,” Midoriya looked between them back and forth, “the lollipop was a metaphor all along?”

Uraraka shrieked and fell back down, holding her stomach from laughing so hard. And Shinsou stared outside the window, wishing he was somewhere else but here.

“But jokes aside,” Uraraka said from the floor, spread like a starfish, “you gonna text him or something? Like, you both pretty much find each other … likeable.” They both burst into a small fit of laughter.

Shinsou shook his head. “Why would I?” he sighed. “Sure, mayyyybe,” he fixed them both with a glare and they pressed their lips together, “we kinda sort of found each other tolerable, but,” he leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms, “he just did his job and maybe that’s just his way to talk to customers.”

“Whatever you say, hot stove,” Midoriya snorted.

And if Shinsou threw them both out with a hearty kick in the ass, he would pledge self-defense for his mentality.

---

It wasn’t that Shinsou not thought about maybe texting Kaminari after all since he had his number after he called him. But it didn’t feel right to text him on his work phone just because he felt like his social anxiety wasn’t as bad with his electrician than with everybody else. What kind of reason is that? And then he got flooded with assignments for almost all of his classes due before the Christmas holidays and it kind of slipped his mind.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, Shinsou said goodbye to Uraraka and Midoriya who both had promised their respective families to celebrate with them. They were home almost never already, that’s why they had these fixed days they just had to come home. And Shinsou felt warmed to the core, when they tried to get out of it to spend Christmas with him.

It was no secret that Shinsou would spend Christmas alone and he honestly didn’t mind. Christmas wasn’t a holiday he celebrated in the first place but just knowing everyone spent it with people they love sometimes can be pretty lonely. And spending these days with his blood rela- no, he didn’t even finish that thought. He rather felt like the loneliest person on earth than to spend Christmas with them.

So, he had to give his friends a crushing hug, reassuring them that he really didn’t mind, and he would text them as soon as something came up. It still didn’t make them stop crying, even when they were out the door and he waved at them until they were around the corner of the hallway.

His friends were the best.

The plan was to write a little bit on his paper about the impact of forced interaction because of holidays with family members and then watch a movie and order take out. Even if the stove was working again, it didn’t mean he had to use it.

When the doorbell rang at around noon, Shinsou looked up in confusion. He didn’t order anything yet, did he? He stumbled a few meters as his legs had fallen asleep sitting cross-legged for the past hours on the ground in front of the coffee table.

When he opened the door, it was his landlord Aizawa standing in front of him.

“Uh, hi?” Shinsou blinked, mentally going through anything that could have prompted his landlord to show up. They always paid in time, he wasn’t even remotely too loud to bother his neighbors, there was nothing leaking in the apartment…

“For you,” Aizawa held up a plastic bag, a food container shimmering through the almost transparent fabric. “Hizashi cooked a little too much. And we didn’t want it to get to waste.”

Shinsou looked at the bag and back at Aizawa’s tired face. He didn’t meet his eyes, staring at the floor.

“But your husb-,” Shinsou started but shut himself up. Aizawa’s eyebrow twitched up, but didn’t say anything as Shinsou took the plastic bag.

“Thank you, Aizawa.” Shinsou took a quick glance inside, but couldn’t make out anything specific.

“Merry Christmas, Shinsou,” Aizawa pulled up his scarf and nodded. “If you need anything, just give me a call.”

“Thanks, I will. And merry Christmas to you and Yamada, too.” Shinsou answered, raising his hand in a small wave. He looked after Aizawa’s back until he reached the staircase, where his landlord raised his hand one last time without looking back.

Shinsou went back inside and closed the door before leaning against it. He rubbed at his eye with the ball of his hand, squinting against the tear ducts that threaten to open up. Damn. he didn’t need to be around people to know he was loved so dearly.

But he for sure sent Uraraka and Midoriya a text message for snitching to their landlord that he’ll be home alone. But he also thanked them. And then send them a picture with the food container to make them jealous because they all knew what a great cook Aizawa’s husband was.

Taking a deep breath, willing his eyes to stay dry, Shinsou decided it was time for a break anyway. In the kitchen Shinsou turned on the rice cooker and then took a look at the food container. It was still a little warm and just smelled heavenly. Shinsou seemed to be in luck to get a taste of Yamada’s curry to which his growling stomach agreed.

He put the curry into a pot to reheat it, turned the stove on low heat and walked back to the living room to make some room to eat. It didn’t even take him five minutes when walked back into the kitchen, not even being able to wait twenty minutes, he tried to reason with himself if he even needed rice or could eat it crunchy and call it fried rice for a split second, as he stirred the curry.

Though … it didn’t smell any different, like it didn’t unfold its whole flavor when getting heated up. Shinsou dipped his finger into the curry to feel that it had cooled down even more. Blinking, he pushed the pot aside, hovering his hand over the stove plate to feel no heat at all. He turned the knob to the highest number, but the panel didn’t turn red at all, let alone get warm.

This just couldn’t be happening. Shinsou counted to ten inside his head, before turning the stove and the rice cooker off for good. His next action was to look up the landline of the company that had sent him the electrician that was “alas, too good at his job” and hoped they were still open.

Luck was on his side for that matter at least, since the call connected. The free-line signal went on for an alarming long time until someone picked up. A gruff voice answered, sounding like they had their fair share of annoying customers on Christmas Eve already. After getting through the greetings, Shinsou went right to the point. He didn’t brag about being the perfect customer, he was polite, for sure, but he didn’t suck up to them.

“The stove plate one of your electricians installed last week doesn’t work anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he didn’t sound genuine at all, but Shinsou didn’t care. He just needed someone to fix it. “We have someone for emergencies on duty today. As soon as he is done with his current assignment, I’ll send him over. That okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Great. Bye.” And he hung up.

Shinsou exhaled hard, nibbling at his lower lip. What now? Kicking his heels for between half an hour to five hours for someone to come? Working on his paper some more? Order some food already, maybe ruining his appetite?

After an hour he spent playing random games on his phone, upside down on the couch, the doorbell rang yet again this day. It didn’t make Shinsou any less anxious answering the door, though, even if he knew who it would be.

Kaminari stood at the door, cheeks slightly red, his chest rising and falling heavy, almost as if he hurried over here. Shinsou decided to ignore that for his own good.

“Yo!” Kaminari grinned, this time pulling out the lollipop and bowed slightly with his cap pulled off. “I’m terribly sorry about that mistake.”

“Uh,” Shinsou blinked. He didn’t expect such a sincere apology. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanna get something to eat, you know?”

“Yeah, totally!” Kaminari was back grinning at him and walked in as if it was already his own home. And Shinsou honestly didn’t mind. He even opened the fuse box to flip the switch for the high-tension outlet on his way as if it was the most natural thing to do.

“Your friends coming home for dinner, then?” Kaminari asked as he entered the kitchen, Shinsou slowly following him.

“Nah,” he tilted his head, one hand on his neck. “They spend Christmas with their family.”

“Huh?” Kaminari was already kneeling in front of the counter, looking over his shoulder like a lost puppy. “What about you? Does your family not meet up on Christmas Eve?”

Shinsou clenched his jaw, scratching his neck. “No.”

Even if he found Kaminari sympathetic and maybe even liked him a little bit, he still was a stranger and he didn’t need to tell him about any potential tragic backstory. And fortunately, Kaminari seemed to get the hint.

“Gotcha.” Kaminari pulled out his flashlight, leaning inside the cupboard. “I’m gonna spend Christmas Eve alone, too, you know? Though, some friends come over tomorrow evening.”

Shinsou blinked. “Uh-huh. So… what are you gonna do tonight?”

Kaminari had the audacity to lean back on his heels, looking over his shoulder with a smug grin. “What? You gonna ask me out on Christmas after meeting like three times? Shinsou,” he shook his head, “I’m on the clock, you know?”

Shinsou was speechless. Before he could even say anything, Kaminari leaned back under and this time opened up a small panel on the downside of the stove plate.

“Cat got your tongue?” Kaminari asked from inside, not sounding any less smug than before.

“Does your small talk always end up in something romantically and/or sexually implied?”

Kaminari looked, once again over his shoulder, pulling out his lollipop while smacking his lips lewdly. “I don’t know, does it?”

“Goddamnit.” Shinsou mumbled under his breath. Both done and frustratingly smitten with Kaminari. The offending electrician giggled before closing the panel and coming back to his feet again.

“The wire was a little loose, no big deal.” He said, back to his usual voice. “Should be no problems from here on out.”

“That’s what you said the last time.”

“Oh, did I?” Kaminari squinted at the ceiling as if to underline how hard he was thinking back to it. “Can’t remember.” He finally said, shaking his head.

“But now you really don’t have to worry about anything at all anymore.” He pushed his flashlight and screwdriver back into his pockets, unclipping his cap and putting it back on his head.

Shinsou nodded, scrunching up his face in annoyance or disappointed, he didn’t know either.

“Hey, Shinsou?” Kaminari asked around his lollipop as he put on his shoes.

“What?”

“My shift ends at around eight. Give or take half an hour depending on my last assignment.”

“And?” Shinsou raised both his eyebrows, playing nervously with the small hair at his neck.

“Well,” Kaminari chuckled but it was dry, not with its usual lightness, “I just… fuck.” He whispered to himself.

“What, Kaminari?” Shinsou pushed, his voice steadier than he would have thought with his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

“I just thought, you’re alone on Christmas Eve, I’m alone on Christmas Eve,” Kaminari rattled on, not looking back at him, “and I just, you know, I just thought it would be nice to spend it with someone. Who was funny. Or something. You know?”

Shinsou stepped a little closer, seeing that Kaminari’s neck turned bright red and Shinsou had to swallow hard around the lump in his throat. Fuck, indeed.

“You like Chinese food?”

“Huh?” Kaminari turned around half way this time, his cheeks still a little red.

“When you come over, bring Chinese Food. Or Indian. I’m not picky.” Shinsou mumbled, suddenly unsure of what to do or say, kicking at nothing. But he didn’t miss Kaminari’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

“Chinese sounds awesome!” Kaminari stood up, suddenly in a hurry. “I’m gonna call you when I’m on the way! See you later, Shinsou!” He shouted as he ran out the apartment, not even bothering to close the door.

The next few hours Shinsou tried to concentrate on writing his paper, failing miserably. He ate some of the curry from Yamada and Aizawa and it was as good as expected but Shinsou found himself looking more forward to the Chinese Takeout. Or the company with it. So, he only ate half of it and put the other half in the fridge for tomorrow.

He ended up looking at his phone every other minute, writing a sentence, then looking at it again. It goes without saying, but he didn’t get any real work done and he knew he had to revise everything he wrote on the last page.

The doorbell rang for the third time this day but Shinsou’s gut didn’t do its usual gymnastic exercises and before he knew, he was already in the entrance hall, opening up. Kaminari changed out of his work jumpsuit into his casual clothes. A thick coat with a dark purple scarf and hat buried him almost completely. His nose was a little red from the cold as he was overall dusted in light snow. But his smile was wide and seemed to melt the snow and cold away.

“Delivery!” It was almost unsettling that there was no lollipop in his mouth this time and Shinsou could actually see the wide grin, showing off immaculate white teeth.

“Come in.” Shinsou tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, only being betrayed by his trembling hands.

Kaminari stepped in, slipping out of his shoes without untying them, threw his coat with his scarf and hat over the wardrobe and just walked up to the living room. Shinsou followed close by, clenching and unclenching his hands to keep them from shaking.

“Wait a sec,” Shinsou pulled his laptop and books to the side, putting them under the coffee table for now. Kaminari put down the plastic bag with various containers.

“I hope I chose right,” he chuckled as he unpacked everything.

“I think you don’t have to worry about that.” Shinsou hummed as he stared at the various containers, kind of a little bit of everything. Fried rice, fried noodles, chicken, duck, wontons, fried vegetables, to name the usual suspects.

“I just wasn’t sure, you know, what you preferred,” Kaminari sounded genuinely worried, scratching his cheek as his eyes hopped from container to container. And that’s when Shinsou noticed how Kaminari’s hands were fidgeting around, pulling at a loose thread on his shirt, his foot tapping silently on the carpet, shifting his weight from one side to the other.

“Sit down,” Shinsou motioned on the ground. “Be right back.” Coming back from the kitchen, Shinsou put down two glasses and a bottle of soda on the table, before sitting down next to Kaminari, who put down his phone as he came back.

Shinsou turned around to pull down his weighted blanket, holding it up to Kaminari. “You want some?”

“Oh!” Kaminari’s face lit up. “Is that one of those weighted ones?!” Before Shinsou could even nod, Kaminari grabbed at it and weighted it with his hands.

“This feels so strange!” He giggled. Shinsou shook his head almost fondly, taking the blanket back from Kaminari’s hands and putting it over their shoulders.

“Sorry, it’s a little small so we need to-“ – “No problem.” Kaminari interrupted him as he scooted closer, grinning from ear to ear. Shinsou swallowed. The blanket had a nice weight to it on his shoulders, grounding him a little and steading his pulse almost instantly. With a glance to the side, Shinsou saw Kaminari sitting with his eyes closed, slowly breathing through his nose.

“I really need to get one of those for myself,” he hummed, smiling up to Shinsou with his eyes only half open.

“It’s Christmas, after all,” Shinsou said lamely, looking away since Kaminari’s relaxed face did things to his heart he didn’t know was possible, “you just wish for it.”

“Mhm, from you?”

“You wish.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.”

Shinsou snorted, shaking his head once again. He just couldn’t keep up with Kaminari.

They started to eat, trying everything before settling on some things just one of them liked and sharing other stuff. It was rather silent at first until Kaminari just started to talk about some of his customers, how just absolutely horrible some people can be. And some just unbelievable stupid. At one point he talked about a job where he had to replace a smashed stove for what Shinsou shoved him in the face.

Somehow over the course of their dinner, they scooted even closer, their arms almost touching constantly and Shinsou only ever realized that when Kaminari laughed at one of his anecdotes about Midoriya (he cracked a bowl with milk and cereal already inside and slurping it as fast as possible, so it didn’t spill) and he buried his face in Shinsou’s shoulder, his whole body shaking.

He had to turn his face away, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. When Kaminari lifted his face up again and didn’t say anything, Shinsou could practically feel his eyes on him, looking through him.

“Hey.” Kaminari’s voice was quiet in contrast to before.

“What.” Shinsou mumbled, not trusting his face to be a normal color again.

“What if I tell you,” he heard Kaminari swallow, “that your stove stopping to work wasn’t a mistake?”

Shinsou felt all his reservation leaving him with a heavy sigh. He turned back toward Kaminari who looked at him with wide eyes, an unsure smile on his lips.

“You win, Kaminari.” Shinsou watched as Kaminari’s eyes squinted at him, thinking about what he meant. So, Shinsou made it a little easier for him.

He raised both his hands to Kaminari’s face, cupping his cheeks and caressing them with his thumbs. Feeling the skin under his hands turn hot and red, and seeing Kaminari’s lips part in surprise, Shinsou was this close to just getting up and leaving his own apartment. This was taking years off of his life.

“I’m going to kiss you now. Any objections?” Shinsou half-whispered, not trusting his own voice.

Kaminari shook his head in between his hands and that was all he needed to know. Shinsou leaned in, guiding their lips together. Both their lips were greasy from the food, tasting like the last dish the other ate, and so unbelievably warm.

Kaminari let out a quiet sigh, leaning closer and Shinsou felt his hands starting to tremble again. But then Kaminari’s hands were on top of his own, squeezing them reassuringly to calm him down. And it helped. Shinsou let out his breath he didn’t realize he was holding in through his nose, holding the kiss for a couple of seconds longer before slowly breaking apart.

“I think I just short-circuited.” Kaminari mumbled, snorting at his own joke.

“You say that as if you don’t have any wires loose anyway.”

“Wow, that was bad,” he snorted again.

“But you laughed.”

“Because it was so bad!”

“Just shut up.”

“Make me.” Kaminari wiggled his eyebrows, trying to hold back a grin.

“And that wasn’t bad?”

“Shinsouuuu,” Kaminari whined mockingly, so naturally Shinsou let him suffer for a couple of seconds longer before he leaned back in again himself.

#Boku no Hero Academia #fyeahbnhasecretsanta #ShinKami #Shinsou Hitoshi #Kaminari Denki #fanfiction

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angerissuesandrews · 4 years

Text

Hello! Welcome to the Reddie Fic Rec!

Please make sure you read all tags on fics before reading!

Have fun and enjoy :)))

Created by Evan (@iwannadie4000 on tiktok)

And special thanks to Charlie (@hippityhoppe on tiktok) for helping!

*CLICK HERE FOR THE GOOGLE DOC REC LINK!*

1. ON POINTE

by tossertozier (rednoseredhair); Explicit (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12519724

“Eddie was a freshman at Boston University of the arts, majoring in dance with a concentration in ballet. He went to sleep early, woke up earlier & took nothing for granted. He fucking hated his dorm neighbors, loud, obnoxious idiots who got drunk all the time. They didn't even know where the library on campus was. He didn't have any idea how the three of them, especially the one with curly hair, even GOT into that school.

2. BRIGHT AS YELLOW

by speakslow; Mature (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12786678

Highschool AU, Richie’s loud Eddie’s annoyed what do you expect

3. WONDER VIOLET

by belby; Mature (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13179045

Eddie’s friends with Richie’s sister ,,, you know what happens

4. GO WEST

by ssstrychnine; Teen and Up Audiences

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12327069

“1996: Richie and Eddie finish school, drive to San Francisco, change their lives ft. hair braiding, a fake las vegas wedding, waterfalls, bumper cars, and approx. 3300 miles.”

5. I LEFT MY UMBRELLA AT HOME

by hippityhoppy; Mature (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22775233

“By 1996, the Losers are well into college. As they often do, life and time have distanced them in more ways than one. Richie, in an attempt to cling to the normalcy of the past in what feels like a steep slope into a downward spiral, ends up on an unfamiliar doorstep of an all too familiar friend. As if Eddie didn't have to deal with enough on his own plate. The both of them, they quickly come to find out, are unprepared for the storms to come.”

6. LOVESONG (A SERIES)*

by WaxAgent; Mature-Explicit (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/series/852234

“They're all connected, sure, but nothing comes close to the iron bonds between Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak; they have their ups and their downs, but they always have each other. A look at their lives from leaving Derry to being dragged back by a promise than both of them had long forgotten.”

*(OKAY EVAN HERE!!! I LOVE THIS FIC/SERIES SO MUCH BUT IN PART 2 IT HAS A STRANGER THINGS CROSSOVER WITH MIKE AND EL BUT I SAY SKIP THAT AND GO ON YOU DON'T MISS MUCH AND WE ALL KNOW IM SO ANTI-CROSSOVER OKAY BYE)

7. WHENEVER I’M ALONE WITH YOU

by stellarbisexual; Explicit (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12182691

“Losers in college. Richie's in an alternative rock band, and Eddie has flung himself into the queer scene.”

8. SAY THAT YOU’LL STAY

by speakslow; Explicit (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12474044

“Richie works at a shitty amusement park for the summer and meets some new friends. Set in 1997”

9. STAY FOR THE STORM

by inoubliable; Explicit (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15442848

“Richie and Eddie had become friends almost on sight. Since they met, most of Eddie's time in Los Angeles has involved Richie in some way.

It's a little different, now that they're both famous.

It's a little different, now that they're sleeping together.

Well, to be fair, they've been sleeping together for a long time, but. No one knows, not even their friends. Eddie has been very careful about that. It's just not the sort of publicity he needs.

So when Beverly calls him that sunny Thursday morning, the last thing he expects her to say is, ‘You're fucking Richie?’”

10. COFFEE AND CARNIVAL BEARS

by StarshipDancer; Teen and Up Audiences

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12325209

“‘Eddie Kaspbrak knew how many germs were in a person’s mouth, and he would only swap spit with his fucking soulmate.’

Finding your soulmate should be pretty straightforward, but not for Eddie. Not when there were two possible candidates, and he had no idea which one it fucking was.”

11. LET’S HEAR IT FOR THE BOY(S)

by Kandakickas; Teen and Up Audiences

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12372279

“In which Richie and Eddie go to different colleges, and all of their friends are curious about their unnamed significant others - right up until those significant others come to visit and everyone is both shocked and confused.”

12. MEET ME HALFWAY

by ShowMeAHero; Explicit (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20667038

“‘Richie,’ Mike says sharply. “Who are you with? Why are you in Derry?”

‘Tell him,’ Eddie whispers again.

‘Is that Eddie?’ Mike asks.

‘Tell him, Richie,’ Eddie says again, louder.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Mike says, and Richie snaps, throwing his phone hard at the kitchen wall opposite them. The back smashes and the battery falls into a bowl soaking in the sink. There’s a beat of silence where Eddie and Richie stare at the battery floating in the soapy water.

‘Good work, Kobe,’ Eddie says.”

13. DREAMBOAT

by weepies; Not Rated

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14073438

“‘What are you? A third grader? What the fuck is this?’ Eddie asks. He looks at Richie, confused.

‘A list of fun stuff to do, duh. Can’t you read? I thought you were studying creative writing.’ Eddie glares at Richie, who raises his hands in surrender as he chuckles. ‘Okay, okay. Hear me out. Your professor tells you to write what you know, and you said you don’t know anything. Well, sugar, here’s your opportunity to learn something about yourself.’

Dumbfounded, Eddie cannot tear his eyes away from Richie, his mouth agape. ‘You’re insane,’ Eddie says.

‘And proud,’ Richie replies.

...

In which Eddie Kaspbrak is a writer with no ideas, and Richie Tozier is a coffee shop employee bursting with creativity.”

14. TO THE GUY AT THE BUS STOP:

by Ragno; Explicit (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12809109

“The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, especially if the other side of the fence is Ireland and the grass is Eddie living his own life for the first time ever away from his mom. An International Students Exchange Program is what he needs to finally stand up for himself and doing what he really wants. Who cares if he won't know anybody there? Who cares if he'll be alone in a foreign country? Who cares if he won't have his car and will need to take the bus to go anywhere?? Okay, maybe Eddie does care about that last one…But, hey, at least the real grass is really greener there. Right?”

15. CLOSER THAN MOST

by tozierbraks; Mature (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14934062/chapters/34598660

“Richie was panting slightly when he reached out an arm and grasped the man’s shoulder a little too hard. He spun rapidly, stumbling backwards away from Richie, his deep brown eyes wide in shock.

‘Eds.’ Richie breathed, his stomach twisting.

Eddie’s wide eyes narrowed in confusion while his brows knitted downwards. He pulled his shoulder out of Richie’s grip

‘Sorry, do I know you?’

college au + forgetting!eddie fic”

16. SIGNED, SOMEONE

by roughentumble; Teen and Up Audiences

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21096380/chapters/50195051

“A secret admirer/love letter AU. Richie starts leaving anonymous love letters in Eddie's locker.”

17. CLUE(LESS)

by endversed; Teen and Up Audiences

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12468440

“Every person on this sorry planet wakes up on their seventeenth birthday with a soulmate mark somewhere on their body – but it’s not always easy to figure out. It’s not their name, or their first words to you, or even some kind of matching shape. It’s not anything clearly indicative; nothing concrete (at first).

No, all this mark gives you is a clue.”

18. FOR BLUE SKIES

by sunsetozier; Teen and Up Audiences

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13978821

“Just as he’s beginning to shake himself out of his daze, his phone buzzes in his hand, a notification popping up at the top of his screen that makes his entire body freeze, reading and rereading it to make sure his eyes aren’t playing a trick on him. When the words don’t change, his jaw drops, an anxious excitement tingling just beneath his skin.

@trashmouthmusic followed you back!

[In which Richie posts anonymous covers on Twitter and Eddie is instantly infatuated with his voice.]”

19. OUR HOUSE, IN THE MIDDLE OF OUR HOUSE

by orphan_account; Teen and Up Audiences

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12458046

“Whatever song your soulmate has stuck in their head is resultantly stuck in yours. Eddie, long suffering through mattress commercial jingles and old rock hits, imagines he would kill his soulmate if he had the chance. Or, he would, if he didn't think revenge was a better answer.”

20. MAYBE, MAYBE

by lisscor; Not Rated

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12841593

“The light was on again. The one in room 307. Richie wondered, not for the first time, who was up there.

Maybe one day, he would find out.

In which two insomniacs who have never met find comfort in the last place they would think to look - each other.”

21. MOST BELOVED

by idaemilia; Mature (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12160854/chapters/27598224

“‘But he had eyes like rain

and hair like waves

and a soul as vast and deep as the ocean

and I guess I didn't mind drowning in him’

-xvaniex on tumblr

Eddie keeps pining for Richie who is too blind to see it. But maybe he already knows.

*previously named Philtatos*”

22. TO WHAT WE MIGHT DO

by MacksDramaticShenanigans; Teen and Up Audiences

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21709897

“He looks scared. More scared than Eddie’s ever seen him before. He looks nervous, too, and Eddie didn’t think it was even possible for Richie Tozier to get nervous.

But there he is. Looking like he's going to shit his pants or throw up all over himself. Eddie would be more worried about that if he still thought Richie was drunk.”

23. CROOKED HEARTS

by killerqueer; General Audiences

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13093371

The Monday before Christmas break, Eddie comes to school to find a yellow rose and a letter from a secret admirer taped to his locker. He's convinced it's a prank until the same thing happens the next day and then continues the rest of the week. He's determined to find out who is doing this, even though he's convinced himself that there's no way it could possibly be the one person he really wants it to be.

24. THE THIRD DATE RULE

by tinyarmedtrex; Mature (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13059960

“Bev drags Eddie along for her tattoo session, telling him that her artist is sex on a stick. She's right, Eddie likes him immediately- if only he wouldn't talk so much.

AU where Richie is a tattoo artist and Eddie pretty much just wants to work in HR and be left alone.”

25. PARENT TEACHER ASSOCIATION (PTA)

by reddiebitch; Mature (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13773060

“In which Eddie is Richie's kid's first grade teacher.”

26. FAKING IT

by domino1234; Mature (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18023273

“The obnoxiously pretty boy with the filthy mouth across the hall manages to convince Eddie to spend spring break pretending to be his boyfriend at his family’s lake house. Can Eddie put his unrequited crush aside to play up the charade for a week or will his feelings inevitably get in the way?”

27. Nightmares

by MargotCelvin; Teen and Up Audiences

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15515028

“Richie Tozier is trying to start over in New York. He left California behind and wants to leave his old life there as well. The only thing holding him to his old life are the nightmares that have plagued him for so long. But is there something in New York that can cure him of this disease?”

28. FREAKING OUT THE NEIGHBORHOOD

by bearkwans; Explicit (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19342543

“Richie thinks that this is what being a father is like. He sure fucking feels like a father, dropping all of his plans to take care of his pet, making very specific google searches and running around his apartment like a madman, grabbing toys and a blanket and a few mice in a tupperware bowl. He knows logistically that everything he’s grabbing is useless and what he really needs is a chill pill and maybe some whiskey to soothe his shaking hands, but Richie can’t help the way his paternal side wakes up and takes control of his mind.

“[or: richie's pet snake is sick and he goes to see vet eddie ;) ;)]”

29. SUGAR, HONEY, HONEY

by thefutureisbright; Mature (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17376344

“Eddie works in a bakery. His life was finally simple. He loved his job, he loved his friends, he loved his shitty little apartment with its shitty little balcony. He loved the plants he kept on his balcony. He loved that he could see the New York skyline when it was an especially clear day. He loved that he lived nowhere near his mother. Eddie loved his quiet, simple life.

Until he met Richie fucking Tozier, and his life was never simple again.”

30. THE BLIND BOX

by tinyarmedtrex; Mature (18+)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13728915

“Eddie works at Gamestop and a dark haired stranger comes in and starts flirting with him. Eddie doesn't think much of it until they keep meeting.

Another College AU! Because why the hell not”

#reddie #fanfiction #reddie fanfiction #fanfic rec #richie tozier #eddie kasbrak #richie and eddie #it #it chapter two #it chapter 1 #it 2017 #it 2019 #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #richie x eddie

107 notes · View notes

demonwifey · 4 years

Text

Morning Beauty

Hey, guys! Hope all of you are doing well. This fic goes out to @littledanette because I sent this idea to her as an ask on my main but then wanted to write it myself and she was super cool about it. Hope you guys enjoy it! 💜🖤💚

Summary: Reader gets ready in the morning and Beej is a curious cat.

Warnings: Cursing, hints of sexual things

Word Count: 3,697

Y/N sat sat criss-cross on her plush stool as she leaned more towards the mirror on her vanity desk. Her current appearance consisted of only her favorite oversized t-shirt with panties underneath and a scarf wrapped around her coily hair. She excitedly took out a brand new pair of false lashes from her makeup bag placed on the desk and pulled the small package open.

Y/N and her friends used the previous Saturday as an all out shopping spree day. While the group made a conscious effort to stop in all of their favorite stores, Y/N was more focused on grabbing the latest release from her favorite lash company. Despite the whole day being taken over by the majority of clothing stores in the city’s outlet mall, Y/N was able to make it to Sephora and swiped the last pair just before they sold out. As the weekend ended, it was back to business as normal. Once Monday approached, Y/N wanted to wear and show off the new lashes as soon as possible.

After applying the right amount of lash glue to the strips she carefully placed one of the new pairs between her fingers and attempted to keep her hand steady near her eyelid. Although she was more concentrated than ever it didn’t take long for an all too familiar and eerie presence to break her focus.

“Babes~” A faded voice murmured as it brushed past her ear. The young woman rolled her eyes before getting back to her original task at hand. She placed one end of the lashes on the inner corner of her eye and slowly placed the rest of the lash across her lid.

“Y/N~” The voice spoke again. This time the woman chose to ignore it as she tried to even out and adjust the false lash with her actual lashes.

This was the first time in a while she was actually able to wake herself up early enough to do her makeup before work. Almost every other day consisted of her either oversleeping or being coerced to stay in bed longer by a certain needy demon named Beetlejuice; not that she really minded anyway. Y/N currently had two hours to spare before she had to leave and catch the train for work so she was determined to use every second she could. The last thing she needed was to use most of her time redoing her lashes 4 to 5 times (me oops).

“Oooh, favorite breather~ Don’t you wanna put that down and summon your favorite piece of man cake?” The gritty voice faded in and out as it circled around her. Although she tried her hardest to ignore him, Y/N knew if she didn’t summon him now he would only bug her more and more to the point of complete irritation. Y/N sighed with light frustration as she realized the lash wasn’t as even as she would’ve liked. She slowly pulled the lash off and stared into the mirror. Not exactly sure where Beetlejuice was standing, she looked slightly to the right of her.

“Alright, fine. But if I summon you, you better behave.” The young woman said with sternness in her voice, knowing all too well what early morning sexual shenanigans Beetlejuice would try if given the opportunity. She took the sudden silence as the demon man accepting her demand.

“Beetlejuice...Beetlejuice...Beetlejuice.” Y/N spoke out and a faded green puff of smoke burst behind her. Before she could even fan some of the smoke away, Beetlejuice was already too eager to hold her. He crouched down behind her and slowly wrapped his black and white stripe covered arms around her stomach, followed by soft pecks on the side of her neck.

“Good morning, babes.” Beetlejuice said softly in between kisses. Y/N knew she had to stop this before it could go any further. She wriggled her way out of his grasp and turned her body towards him with a smile on her face.

“Good morning to you too. Ah! Didn’t I say behave.” Y/N swatted Beetlejuice’s hand away as it slowly reached to caress one of her thighs. The dead man pouted dramatically at her and she giggled at his facial expression. Beetlejuice then dropped to his knees in front of her.

“Come on, Y/N. We’ve got a bunch of time before you’ve gotta leave,” He leaned forward with an already hungry and mischievous look on his face. “Let’s see if we can break our usual morning record.”

Before Y/N could say anything else Beetlejuice grabbed her cheeks and smashed their lips together in a long passionate kiss. Although Y/N loved to be kissed everywhere and anywhere by Beej, he knew her weakness was a long, drawn out kiss on the lips. Maybe it was the way he tasted. Maybe it was the way it made her feel loved. He never really questioned it, he just always used it for his advantage.

Y/N let out a feverish sigh and moan mixed. She was just about to give in and wrap her arms around his neck when she felt one of his hands move and cup her breast. She stopped her hands on his chest and pushed away with a small amount of force. Not enough for him to fall backwards but enough for him to stop and look at her with genuine confusion on his face.

“Beej, I meant it when I said behave. I’ve got to get ready.” Y/N spoke as she turned back around towards the mirror.

She chose to ignore the loud frustrated groan Beetlejuice let out behind her. Going back to the lashes, she picked the already attempted one and applied another amount of lashes glue.

“Why don’t you sit and watch. Maybe you could learn something.” She spoke as she looked at his reflection in the mirror. The demon man adjusted his suit and scoffed at her words.

“Like what, babes? Learn how to paint a face so I can be the Netherworld’s most booked makeup artist?” Beetlejuice walked around to the vanity and placed one hand on the desk, leaning over as he watched her motions.

“No, but maybe one day I’ll break my arm and need you to do my lashes for me.” Beetlejuice rolled his eyes as Y/N giggled. They then wandered across the display in front of him. He was one of the most famous demon’s in the Netherworld. THEE ‘Mr. Ghost with the Most’. What the fuck did he look like entertaining himself with breather makeup? Y/N noticed him looking around as she fanned the lash between her fingers. “Come on, B. You don’t have much else going on.” She reached out and touched his arm gently.

Beetlejuice narrowed his eyes at her cheeky gesture. If this were anybody else, he’d be long gone by now. But he loved his little breather. And how could he turn down the opportunity to spend time just staring at her gorgeous face? The demon sighed in defeat.

“Alright, doll. You win. But could you at least get naked to make it just a little more entertaining?” Beetlejuice smirked down at her and wiggled his brows. Y/N took the hand she had on his arm and smacked him lightly. He only chuckled before sitting down...mid air. Y/N would’ve said something but decided to leave it alone.

The woman turned back to the mirror before angling the lash over her lid once again. She succeeded the closeness of the false lash and her actual lash like she wanted. As Y/N went to press the lashes together, Beetlejuice began to speak.

“So what do you wear these for anyway, babes? Your lashes look fine already.” A sense of uncertainty in his voice.

“Yeah but I just like them. I started wearing these a few years ago and I’ve been hooked ever since.” Y/N said as she adjusted it to perfection. Checking her eye one more time in the mirror she moved her head up and down. Perfect. Beetlejuice moved one of his legs on top of the other as he watched Y/N. That’s when she picked up the next lash and moved to place a layer to glue over the strip. Beetlejuice cocked his head.

“What’s that for?” He asked and Y/N was surprised. She didn’t actually think he’d be interested in watching her. Let alone actually ask questions.

“This is the lash glue. You take the handle out of the tube and you see this little brush on the end?” She guided as she showed him each step. He nodded as he watched her hands move. Y/N noticed his usual green locks became mixed with a bright curious yellow. Y/N would’ve giggled but didn’t want to alarm the man and break his concentration.

“You just take that brush part and lay it on top to the strip right here.” The demon’s eyes followed her hands as the brush end layered a thin strand of glue like she described. Y/N handed Beetlejuice the lash, telling him to hold it while she placed the handle back in the tiny tube. Not even a second later she heard Beetlejuice gasp.

“Babes, holy shit! Look, it's turning green!” The man pointed at the tiny object between his fingers. His face showed utter shock and excitement while his hair started beaming with the green and yellow mixed. Y/N just laughed at him.

“Yeah, the glue changes to green basically when it’s ready to be put on, kinda like a timer.” She explained. He looked back and forth between her and the lash, a big smile filling his face. Y/N only smiled back as he handed her the lash back and she went to angle it on her lid. Beetlejuice inched his body forward as all of his focus was on her. Y/N then went on to explain how to apply the lash on her lid, to which he listened intently. It was like teaching a little kid something new. And once they were complete, Y/N turned her face towards Beetlejuice and batted her lashes.

“Well? What do ya think?” She asked the demon. The few boyfriends Y/N had before Beetlejuice would always give a stale ‘they look great, babe’ or even no response at all. So she wasn’t expecting much until Beetlejuice practically yelled,

“They look awesome, babycakes! They look like spiders on your eyes!” The demon said practically bouncing with excitement. Y/N wasn’t really sure how to take the compliment but accepted it anyway, she always knew Beetlejuice meant well.

After shuffling everything back into the desk drawer, Y/N walked to go into her bathroom with Beetlejuice tailing behind her. Now that he saw one little bit of Y/N’s morning beauty routine, he wanted to see all of it.

“Babes, is that it? You don’t put anything else on?” He questioned. He may not know a lot about the nitty-gritty details of makeup but he always knew there was a lot to it. Y/N shook her head as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror.

“No, I just do my eyelashes. I’m too lazy really to do anything else. Foundation and all that? Nah.” She shrugged off as she reached up to pull her scarf off of her hair. Beetlejuice walked in to sit on the toilet and watched her. “Right now I’m just about to take this twist-out down.”

“How does that work?” Beetlejuice asked simply.

“Well, all these little twists in my hair,” Y/N pointed as she set the scarf on the counter. Beetlejuice nodded as she took one in between her fingers and began to unravel it.

“I literally just untwist them and then my hair is styled for the day. See?” As Y/N turned to the side Beetlejuice could see the strands of hair that were once twisted. They were now laying in a thick spiral curl and His eyes lit up.

“Woah. Is that how your hair is always so big and curly, babes?” He was practically gripping the side of the counter. Y/N could’ve sworn his hair was completely neon green and yellow at this point. If she had to guess it was going to be like that for a while.

“Yeah, basically for whenever I don’t have my braids in. And it usually stays like that for a while before my shrinkage gets the best of it.” She said as she moved to pull out another twist. Beej cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brows.

“Shrinkage?” He questioned. Y/N was becoming more and more surprised by Beetlejuice. He wasn’t fake interested or asking questions just to make her hurry up. He was curious about everything and that warmed her heart in a way.

“So shrinkage is when someone’s hair literally shrinks from when it’s longer. Like my hair is stretched out now from the twist out. But after a few days it’ll curl really tightly and shrink back down.” Y/N tried to explain. No one ever really asked her about her hair. All of her friends already knew as they went through the same thing so it was kind of weird for her to explain (me again). Beetlejuice nodded his head again in understanding. The demon then sat his head on his hands as he watched Y/N unravel more twists. It was quiet for about 5 minutes before he spoke again.

“Babes?” He asked sheepishly. She looked turned to look at him. “Is it okay if I help you?”

And that was it. Y/N’s heart flew out of her chest and into the sky. Not only was it the question itself but the adorable look on Beej’s face when he asked it. He looked almost scared to ask but really eager to do so. Y/N couldn’t contain her large smile as she nodded back.

“Yeah, Beej you can.” The man immediately jumped up and stood behind her. His own hair turning fully to beaming green. The demon was the perfect height to stand directly over her and reach her hair. “Just take the ends in between your fingers like this then unravel them.” She explained while looking at his reflection in the mirror.

Beetlejuice followed her instructions as he worked on one of the twists by himself. He did take note of the super soft feeling of her curly hair. All Beetlejuice wanted to do was run his fingers through her soft puffs. And as tempting as it was, he’d rather not get yelled at for messing with her hard work.

The two finish her hair after a few minutes. Of course Beetlejuice didn’t want the time to end. He actually enjoyed doing this with her, surprisingly enough. He liked learning more about the process of her beauty routine. Whenever he asked a question she would answer sweetly. Not like she was annoyed or bothered by his curiosity.

“And voila! Like it? Love it?” Y/N turned her body towards Beetlejuice while holding her hands up, signaling that they were finally done. Her coily hair rested just above her shoulders as the curls had slight bounce in them. Shades of baby pink began to appear in Beetlejuice's own hair as he looked at Y/N. Her hair was cute but the fact that she was so happy with the way it came out was adorable to him.

“It looks great, babes. I mean, if I do say so myself.” Beetlejuice dramatically placed his hand over his chest. Y/N giggled and crossed her arms.

“If you say so yourself?” She asked at his sudden act of confidence. She should've known Beetlejuice was going to use any opportunity to act a fool. Beetlejuice reached down on the sink and picked up the anti-frizz spray Y/N said was to be used last. He began spraying some of it around her hair.

“Yes, I do believe I did a good job. Now, my fee is $85 but if you want we can set up a payment plan.” The demon man made his voice more high pitched and flamboyant as he talked. Y/N almost doubled over as she let out a loud laugh. How her boyfriend had the energy to act so silly in the morning was beyond her.

“Shut up, Beej. You’re so stupid.” Y/N said as she smacked his chest lightly. He laughed along with her as she turned to fix any last minute touches in the mirror. Beej was still doing his commentary even after they exited the bathroom. Y/N looked at her clock next to her bed. She still had 1 hour before she had to leave.

“Alright, good be a good hubby and fix us some cereal while I get dressed.” Beetlejuice looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

“I’m sorry but are you new here? You want me to leave and miss the chance to see my super hot girlfriend get undressed? That’s very selfish, Y/N.” Beetlejuice crossed his arms with fake sternness. The young woman laughed again before using her hands to gently push Beetlejuice out of the room.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” As he was finally out the door, Y/N closed it before going in her closet to find something to wear. As she looked at some blouses to wear she realized, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to leave Beetlejuice alone in the kitchen. The woman hurriedly put an outfit together before rushing to the kitchen to make sure he didn’t actually make a mess.

Thankfully he didn’t and the rest of the morning went by smoothly. Unfortunately it was down to the last 10 minutes before Y/N had to leave for the train. For some reason today was a little bit different. Usually it was Y/N that would have to convince Beetlejuice not to be upset that she was leaving for the day, always having to reassure him that she’d be back in just a few hours. But this time, it was Y/N that didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want that little time she spent with Beetlejuice to be over. Of course the demon man could sense this from her and he thought it was adorable.

As Y/N stood up to put their bowls in the sink, Beetlejuice walked behind her. He slowly wrapped his arms around her waist. The young woman smiled while rinsing the dishes in the sink, feeling Beetlejuice place quick kisses on her neck.

“Beej, you could not have picked a more bad time to start something.” Y/N spoke as she dried her hands and turned her body to face the taller man. He let a sly toothy smirk appear as he looked down at her.

“I know, babes, but I couldn’t help it. That spray that we used in your hair smells really good.” And he wasn’t lying. As Beetlejuice took in the sweet fruity smell of Y/N’s hair, it almost made his knees weak. He almost wanted to tell her to forget about going to work so he could just cuddle with her, among other things, all day. But before he could, Y/N snaked her arms under his suit jacket and around his midsection, holding him tightly.

“Well I did spend a lot of money on it, so I’d hope it does.” She joked. Beetlejuice only laughed as he also made his grip on her tighter. He moved down to place his forehead against hers.

“You know, doll. When you get back maybe you could show me some more of your hair and makeup stuff.” Beetlejuice spoke softly while his half-lidded eyes stared down at her. Y/N looked at him before nodding with a smile on her face.

“Yeah, I think that’d be really nice.” Y/N agreed before craning her neck slightly to place a soft kiss on the man’s lips. Beetlejuice smiled within the kiss before returning the favor. Before either of them could get deeper in the moment, Y/N pulled back from the kiss, having to hear a protesting groan from Beetlejuice.

“As a matter of fact, Beej. Maybe I could show you some of my perfumes and you could pick out your favorite.” She giggled while poking the man’s nose. She moved herself out of his grip before walking towards the front door to grab the rest of her things. Beetlejuice blinked, letting his mind register her sentence for a minute. Then a mischievous and dopey mixed grin appeared on his face as he followed behind her.

“Oh, babycakes, whatever one you have on now might already be my favorite.” The demon spoke, staring down at her ass as she bent over to put her heels on. As Y/N stood, she turned to see him staring. The obvious lewd thoughts he was having were plastered all over his face. The woman stepped in front of Beetlejuice and grabbed his tie, pulling him towards her with slight force.

“Don’t worry, Beej. I’ve got like 5 others bottles in my room.” She spoke as their lips were only inches apart. Beej’s hair was going on dark pink at that point.

“Just so we’re clear, you’re the one starting something now. Not me.” The man said with innocence as he threw his hands up. Y/N just giggled before pulling him down to finish their kiss. Once they parted, Beetlejuice had the biggest lovesick look in his eyes as Y/N released his tie, straightening out the wrinkles she put on it.

“Bye, Beetlejuice. I’ll see you later, ‘kay?” She asked as she picked up her purse. Beetlejuice nodded, head still swimming from the sweet kiss from his love.

“Love you.” Y/N spoke, hoping to snap the man out of his daze. It did partially, but not completely.

“Love you too, babes.” Beetlejuice’s already scratchy voice cracked slightly. Y/N opened the door to leave out, waving to the demon one last time before leaving.

Okay, this was me self-inserting hard af. As a lonely black girl, I would love nothing more than to spend a day showing Beej my lashes and hair products. What’s something you’d wanna teach/show our favorite bugboy? Thanks for reading!💜🖤💚

#beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice #beetlejuice muscial #self-inserting

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chuckbass-love · 4 years

Note

it's me again! May I request a Bucky Barnes x trans!female they've been in a relationship for a little while and reader is a theatre major. She always sings to Bucky in the morning or when he has a panic attack but is still a little insecure about her voice. So when she gets a lead role in her school's musical, Bucky is there to support her? (and maybe include a lil scene where reader actually sings to Bucky in the aforementioned scenarios?)

Hey love, thank you so much for another request. I love this one the most i think! I hope you enjoy all the ones i’ve written so far also.

Reblogs are great and encouraged just don’t steal my work!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Trans!Female reader

Warnings: none except a whole lotta fluff and cutesie couple shit

Word Count: 971

I know the gif is from pitch perfect but it’s just a cute couple example for the story.

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @perfectfeelings go check them out 💕

Music In Me

“Baby, you got me like ah woo ah. Don’t you stop loving me, don’t quit loving me. Just start loving me” you sing as you place the food onto the tray before pouring some orange juice into a glass.

“Oh and baby i’m fist fighting with fire, just to get close to you. Can we burn something babe? And I run for miles just to get a taste. Must be love on the brain. That’s got me feeling this way”

You enter yours and Bucky’s bedroom as you softly belt the song out. You’ve always loved singing, it’s a huge passion of yours. Hence the decision to study it at college. You’re a theatre major, singing randomly and breaking out into random accents is your thing.

You thank god that Bucky doesn’t mind it. When he asked you to move in with him, initially you were worried. Being the type of girl you are and the hobbies that you have, you wasn’t sure if he’d get annoyed by day 2 but he never did. In fact he started encouraging that you sing more.

“Morning Buck” you place the tray on the bedside table next to him.

He groans a little before sitting up, rubbing his eyes in the process.

“I love waking up to this” you raise a brow, questioning him “I love this, the breakfast in bed, you being by my side and hearing you singing around the house. It’s the best start to my day and i wouldn’t want it any other way” you hide your shy smile from him as you lean over to place the tray onto his lap.

“Also you nailed that song”

You try to shrug it off “meh, it wasn’t the best but it’s not a competition so it doesn’t matter”

He stops you before you can continue to put yourself down.

“You have to stop with that. Your voice is incredible babe. I love it and you’re talented now can we please leave it at that” you nod your head, agreeing with him for the sake of it.

It’s not that you are denying your talent, you just don’t think as highly of yourself as he does. He’s always praising you and saying how your voice soothes him.

You’ve calmed him down from his worst panic attacks before. He was curled up in a ball in bed, practically shaking, his breathing was erratic. You cuddled him from behind, singing Somewhere Over The Rainbow from Wizard of Oz. It was like a switch just flipped. He was calmer, he turned around and buried his head in the crook of your neck as the sobbing died down too.

He never stopped thanking you and every time after that, you became his escape. The one person that could help him in those dark times and the one person that could make him genuinely happy.

Today was no different to your normal morning routine. You woke him up with singing and breakfast in bed. You cuddled for a while after eating before you both decided that it was either shower time or going out stinking.

You almost fall over as you race each other to the shower.

The only difference with today however, is that you have an audition.

Your school is doing a production of Grease 2 and today are the auditions for Stephanie Zinone, the part that you want.

Bucky has been learning lines to help you run through scenes and giving feedback on the songs for the last week. You know the movie start to finish and the songs too, it’s just whether or not you’re the best out of all the other girls.

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

“Hi i’m Y/N, and i’ll be auditioning for the role of Stephanie Zinone”

You take a glance at the script before putting it down, you start reading a scene with one of the guys that is auditioning for Michael.

You then walk around the stage as you start singing Cool Rider.

You make sure to give eye contact to the directors of the school musical. You also spot Bucky in the back of the auditorium. He came along to give his support to you, he’s always so supportive of you.

Once the audition comes to a close, you stand on the stage, awaiting feedback.

“Well, I think i can speak on behalf of all of us here when i say i think we just found our Miss Zinone and Mr Carrington”

You both hug each other as you jump up and down.

This is amazing.

“Rehearsals start next Monday. Be here at 10am guys. Well done oh and Y/N, the character portrayal was spot on”

You hug the guy again as you walk off the stage. Grease 1 & 2 are your favourite musicals ever and to be able to play Stephanie even if it’s in a school production is just incredible.

“Come here you beautiful, talented woman” Bucky cheers as you approach him. You pick your pace up, running into his arms. He picks you up and spins you around before placing a passionate kiss to your lips.

“Now let’s get home and celebrate”

You follow him out to the car park, getting into his car with him and leaving to go home.

“You killed it today you know that right?” he intertwines his fingers with yours, one hand on the wheel.

“I don’t know about tha-”

“No, don’t do that. Don’t put yourself down. You smashed it. I’m so proud of you”

“Buck” you can’t help but feel all shy and emotional.

“I love you so much”

“I love you too Buck”

“I can’t wait to see you kill the first night with an audience. You got this”

His support is what keeps you going.

He’s your best friend.

You feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

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

TAGS: @deadlymistress24 @coffeebooksandfandom @princess-evans-addict @badbo1-evans @holtzkinnon @mychemicalimagines @llamadelreyx @haus-of-bitch-talk @buckstaybucky @thewinchestergirl1208 @chrissquares @patzammit @adriannajackson @dummiesshort @cevans-fics

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

let me know if you want to be in a specific tag list!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x trans!reader #winter soldier #captain america winter soldier #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x trans!reader #fic #requests #fluff #singing

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mingishoe · 4 years

Note

do u have any advice for small/new blogs? i love ur fics btw!!

Thank you so much baby💕 that means a lot🥺 but yes, whenever I started my blog I in no way had any plan... I recommend you having a plan skdhsj basically I had written stuff because I’ve always wanted to write and I used to have a wattpad and I didn’t rly like it so I thought tumblr would be better so I kinda just posted a smut and went for it and luckily it was semi popular so it was pretty easy from there.

So kinda have a plan of what you want your blog to be about and what you want in the future. Know what tags would be best for the type of post you’re going to post since it will pretty much be the only way others will find your account if you’re just starting out or are pretty small.

I would also recommend being really active on other people’s blogs by reblogging, commenting, and leaving asks. It’s a good way to become mutuals because personally sometimes I stalk some of my followers blogs who I always see in my notifications and I even follow some back if I see that they write.

If possible I would recommend you post consistently. At first I had a schedule of what I would write every Monday and Friday but a couple months later I switched it to once a week and now I post anywhere from 1 to 3 times a week without really a schedule.

Don’t be shy! I know it’s really hard sometimes especially if there’s a bigger blog that you really enjoy and you’re scared to talk to them, I have that problem which is why I don’t message blogs first. I know I gotta do what I teach because I always tell people this when I have a big problem with it but jshdjs anyway most of my tumblr friends have messaged me first which I really don’t mind because I enjoy making new friends. I’ve been told that they were scared to message me because I was known as a pretty popular Ateez account (which I’m not sure how true that is but👉👈) and they had less than a 100 followers, that’s okay:) the amount of followers you have mean absolutely nothing in terms of being friends and honestly most blogs really don’t mind

Anyway that being said if you’d like to be mutuals just let me know :) I never hesitate to hype my mutuals up, I’m always reblogging their writing with a mess of hashtags and keyboard smashes

#anon #ask reply #advice

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Not Nineteen Forever (4) (Branjie/Scyvie)- Ortega

a/n: i am absolutely hanging out my arse so editing and re-reading this chapter made me feel vaguely ill. i’ll pass it off as method acting xo thank you so much for the continued love and support for this fic, the fact that each chapter so far has broken 100 notes makes me piss my pants with excitement (watch now i’ve jinkxed it and this one’ll get like 8). in this installment Scarlet finds it hard to believe that she isn’t Victoria Beckham.

Trigger Warnings: explicit drug use, alcohol. unaaay.

Summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree

***

Scarlet had to admit, she was enjoying the high life. As she sat up the back of the lecture theatre in the new fur coat she wasn’t planning on taking off anytime soon, blinking heavily with her £75 lash extensions, drumming her £50 acrylics against her notepad, she smiled to herself. This was definitely the kind of life she was suited to. Okay, she got a bit of a shock when the rent left her bank account, as well as her gas and electricity bills, but she still had a good amount there. Clenching her stomach, Scarlet thought about the number on her banking app. £3713.65. Slightly giddy, she pressed her lips together as she thought about it. How could she have spent over a thousand pounds in the space of two weeks? She thought through it in her mind. Rent, £550. Electricity, £30 split with Ra’Jah. Gas, £25, also split with Ra’Jah. But that only came to what…just under six hundred pounds? There was still so much unaccounted for. Scarlet thought about how much she’d paid for on nights out, the two shopping trips she’d been on since her scratchcard win, and the many, many Ubers she’d taken pretty much everywhere. It was time to reign the spending in.

It was crazy how much confidence it was giving her, though. Even on the group chat Scarlet felt self-assured enough to throw out barbs every so often, the girls all responding with keyboard smashes and capitalised laughter and giving her a boost of serotonin. It had even made her feel more confident around Yvie. Scarlet felt weird about the whole Yvie thing. Now that she’d realised she liked her, she didn’t really know what to do about it. She knew she would do something, she promised herself, as if she ended up in a situation like Vanjie’s she would scream. Scarlet cast a glance to the girl beside her, frantically typing notes into her laptop and listening intently. Bored, Scarlet took her fluffy-topped pen and wrote on her notepad, pushing it Vanjie’s way.

Lunch after this?

She watched as Vanjie looked down at her writing, looked back up, then nodded once. Scarlet smiled, glad that she had something to look forward to. It had been a while since she’d had a catchup with Vanjie, and part of her was excited to see if there had been any progress made between her and Brooke. Scarlet then realised it was a little selfish of her to think that way and, realising she hadn’t confided in anyone about her crush on Yvie yet, she decided she’d let Vanjie in on her secret.

When the lecture finished up they decided they would go for lunch at the Mexican place in town. It was a slightly longer walk than anywhere on campus but Vanjie was good company, chatting away happily about something funny her Mum had done back home and distracting Scarlet from the cold weather. They eventually reached the restaurant and got sat at a table, despite the fact Scarlet could have stood under the heaters that were blasting by the entrance forever. She watched as Vanjie shrugged her huge coat off then leant forward.

“So, how’s your lovely flatmate?” Vanjie asked, Scarlet letting out a snort and rolling her eyes.

“Our oven’s broken. She’s saying I broke it,” she explained, Vanessa tilting her head with intrigue.

“Why? What did you do?”

“I don’t know. Used it to cook food,” Scarlet said, her laugh giving away her monotone voice and causing Vanjie to giggle too. “It’s exhausting living with her! She just hates me for no reason! I swear she’s going to turn up by my bed in the middle of the night with a knife and her pillow to smother me with.”

“But then she’d have no-one to blame for the shit that goes wrong in the flat.”

“True. If I’m ever found murdered, though, you know who it was,” Scarlet raised her eyebrows knowingly, Vanessa having to stop herself from laughing as a waitress arrived at their table and took their drinks orders. Vanessa ordered a Corona and Scarlet almost joined her, then realised that beer on a lunch break when she still had a lecture in the afternoon was risky. She got a blood orange San Pellegrino instead. As the waitress walked away, Scarlet continued. “How’s Silky and Akeria? I’ve not seen them since last Saturday.”

“They’re good. Akeria’s stressing about Masters applications, even though I keep telling her every uni is gonna be fallin’ over themselves to accept her. Silk is fine. She’s always fine. I think she’s made peace with the fact she’s probably going to get a 2:2.”

“Nothing wrong with a 2:2,” Scarlet shrugged, even though she knew that if she was on course for a 2:2 she’d be crying as if her life was over.

“That’s true. Degree’s a degree. Still gon’ cry like a baby if I don’t get a 2:1 though,” Vanessa frowned, brightening up as the waitress returned and put their drinks in front of them.

“You will,” Scarlet said. It hadn’t been a lie- even though she only saw Vanessa working towards part of her PPE degree, she always seemed on the ball with lecture notes, got good grades in her essays, and you could never shut her up in tutorials. The other girl still narrowed her eyes at her as she took a drink.

“You have to say that, though. You’re my friend,” Vanessa said, Scarlet brightening up at the validation of her friendship. She’d never known if Vanessa had liked her at first, but over the years they’d eventually settled into being comfortable with each other. Vanessa sighed. “I worked out that if I want a 2:1 I need to get above 65% in everything until the end of the year.”

“That’s doable!” Scarlet insisted, pouring her can into the glass in front of her. She frowned and shook her head. “Anyway, let’s not worry any more about uni. How’s Brooke Lynn?”

Vanessa slid down in her seat and covered her face with the menu. “I don’t know, bitch, ask her.”

“You know what I mean! How are things going? Any progress?”

Vanessa screwed up her face. “I mean, I don’t know. Kind of? Maybe? It’s so hard to tell with that bitch.”

“What’s the maybe?”

“So last Monday we went for a drink after we went to the library. We were just talkin’ and somehow…I don’t even know how we got onto this topic…we started talkin’ about how we were…y'know, like in bed.”

Scarlet let out a screech. “OH my God. Amazing. How is that a maybe in any way?!”

“Nah, well, you know,” Vanessa smiled bashfully, fanning herself with the menu which neither of them had so much as glanced at. “It started to get deep and then I did my classic ha ha ha what a big joke this is I’m definitely not takin’ this serious in any way thing I always do with her. I think I made it awkward, ‘cuz I’ve not seen her since then. I mean we’ve talked on the chat but…yeah.”

Scarlet pouted, feeling sorry for her friend. “Oh, Vanj, no. It won’t be that at all. You know her and Plastique have got their portfolios due next week, she’ll just be busy!”

Vanessa bit her lip, then smiled slowly. “How about if I organise a lil somethin’ to take her mind off her work, then?”

Scarlet took a sip of her drink. “You’re going to turn up to her flat wearing nothing but a massive bow playing The Stripper through your phone speaker.”

As Vanessa howled, Scarlet realised a little too late that someone had come to take their order. She asked for five more minutes, neither of them having looked at the menu yet and having only used it as a prop for embarrassment.

“No, bitch,” Vanessa wheezed, finally getting her breath back. “Let’s see if we can get her to come out tonight.”

Scarlet felt her brows pulling together involuntarily. “On a Wednesday? She’ll be too responsible.”

Vanessa sighed and gave the menu a cursory glance. “Couldn’t we at least try? I just need to know if I’ve made things awkward so I can go about trying to fix them. Although how the fuck I’d do that, I don’t know.”

“I guess you could put it on the chat?” Scarlet shrugged.

Gleefully, Vanessa bounced about in her chair and grabbed her phone decisively, immediately typing. She put it back face-down on the table almost as quickly as she’d picked it up. “It’s sent. Although now we’re running the risk of everyone being free apart from Brooke Lynn, and if I’m honest I really don’t have the energy to go out otherwise.”

“We’re getting old,” Scarlet shrugged, her eyes scanning over tostadas, taquitos and empanadas without really being able to focus on any of them. “Do you remember the days when you could manage two nights out back to back?”

“I remember the days I could manage two nights out in one night,” Vanessa laughed, running a hand through her hair and exhaling. “Scarlet, why am I nervous? Tell me why I’m nervous.”

“Because you’ve just orchestrated a night out with our whole friendship group just so you can see one member of it. Instead of, you know. Asking her on a date,” Scarlet smiled teasingly, Vanessa laughing in self-depreciation. It occured to Scarlet that she still hadn’t told Vanessa about Yvie. “That reminds me-”

Just then she was cut off as the waitress appeared again at their table. Scarlet couldn’t bear to send her away again so she quickly ordered some fish tacos and some sort of cheesy beany quesadilla she had no idea the other ingredients of. Vanessa rapidly fired off an order for a pulled chicken burrito and pork taquitos which, Scarlet could glean from a quick glance at the menu, seemed to be served with radioactive levels of spice. As the waitress walked away, Scarlet frowned.

“Are those taquitos not really spicy?”

“Meh. I don’t mind spice. Worst case scenario I’ll have to install scaffolding round my ass for the next three days after I eat ‘em,” Vanessa shrugged and then leaned forward, hardly giving time for Scarlet to laugh at what she’d just said. “You said ‘that reminds me’ after we were talkin’ about dates, what’s up with that?”

“Oh uh, nothing,” Scarlet smiled shyly as she picked at a bit of dripped candle wax on the tabletop. “Just that I’m joining you in the crushing-on-my-best-friend club for the foreseeable future.”

Vanessa’s face lit up. “What is this?!”

Scarlet felt cheeks flush red as she said it. “I…think I have a crush on Yvie.”

Vanessa let out a quick screech of delight, drawing the gaze of a dining couple sitting at the opposite side of the room. Hushing herself, she leant close to Scarlet and continued. “Oh my God! Bitch! I love this. This is amazing. Aw, you’d be so cute together! I knew you were touchy with each other but I always thought that was just how your friendship was.”

“It is how our friendship is!” Scarlet protested, then put her head in her hands to cover her cheeks as she smiled. “I just…realised I like being touchy with her a little too much to be friendly.”

“Oh, I got it. You wanna be touchy with her in a different way,” Vanessa winked suggestively, Scarlet squealing in mortification and both the girls ending up howling with laughter. As the laughter died down, Vanessa smiled. “Well, welcome to the world of crushing on a friend, boo. It’s amazing, electric, and largely horrific. And painful. I’m not selling this well.”

“It sounds slightly sadomasochistic.”

“That’s actually what you get if you Google it,” Vanessa nodded faux-seriously, then put on a funny, posh-sounding voice. “If you liked getting shocked by a disused electrical socket twenty-five times in a row, perhaps you’d like: crushing on your best friend!”

Scarlet laughed, then shot a glance down at her phone as it sat face-down on the table. “I’m kinda hoping Yvie comes out tonight too now.”

“Ooh! We should check the chat,” Vanessa said, pouncing on her phone and her face dropping as she looked. Scarlet opened her own to see what had been said.

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: me n Scarlet wanna go out tonight who’s down

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: BITCH ARE U CRAZY WE AINT FRESHERS ANY MORE

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: I GOTTA DATE WITH BRADLEY WALSH AND WHOEVER THE CHASER IS TODAY

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Girl we all know The Chase starts at 5pm you gotta think of a better excuse

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Sorry boo I’m out

large incongruous silkworm spiced praline: BITCH BACK TO BACK EPS ON CHALLENGE TV FROM 7 THANK U NEXT

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: Need to be at the library early if I wanna get that 1st

Kim Kardashian-West: Placement :((((((( sorry babyyy

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: I’ll see yall at pres though

Akeria Sainsburys Bag for Life: I’m guessing they’re gonna be at ours

Okay Then: Sorry girls our portfolios are due in like 9 days

Okay Then: big celebrations after though!!

Dave the Laugh: i’d actually be down

Scarlet felt guilty as her heart gave a jump, Vanessa sitting dejectedly across from her. “Hey, chin up! She’s not replied yet.”

“If Plastique is sayin’ no, she’ll be a no too,” she jerked her mouth to the side in a pained attempt at a smile. “Your girl’s down though, that’s good!”

“Stop. She’s not my girl.”

“Yet,” Vanessa smiled, a glint of disappointment still present in her eyes. Just then, Scarlet’s phone lit up in her hand.

mose: I’m going to follow the tradition of my entire university career making poor life choices and say yeah I’d be up for a night out

Scarlet looked with anticipation across to Vanessa, whose eyes were wide with excitement. She didn’t seem to know that she had a beaming smile on her face, and Scarlet couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, happy for the girl opposite her. “See? Good news!”

“Oh my God. It’s gonna be me, you, Yvie and Brooke Lynn. Fuckin’ double date night out,” Vanessa’s eyes scrunched up as she laughed happily. Scarlet felt her pulse start racing, nerves taking hold of her already. She was excited, though, for some time with Yvie in a slightly smaller setting. She hadn’t grabbed a coffee or done anything with just her in a while, and even though this wasn’t the ideal setting, it was still an opportunity. Vanessa was back typing quickly into her phone, and Scarlet watched the group chat progress.

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: yall suck apart from Yvie and BrookeLynn

FORD TRANSIT VANJIE: come to mine for 9 then bitches! Xoxoxoxo

Mose: See ya then boo

Scarlet turned over her phone and raised an eyebrow at Vanessa. “You’re her boo.”

“Yeah fuck y’all bitches, I’m Brooke Lynn’s lil’ ghost,” she smiled and gave her hands a quick clap together in excitement, Scarlet spluttering a laugh at her friend’s adorable reaction. Just then, their food arrived and got placed down in front of them.

“Oh hey, can I grab another Corona?” Vanessa asked, holding up her empty one. The waitress took it and nodded, and Vanessa gave Scarlet a guilty look. “I should really head to the library after this but I’mma go back home and nap, then spend the next four hours gettin’ ready. Fuck, I don’t even know how I’m gonna afford goin’ out tonight.”

Scarlet took a bite of a taco, then thought. Lunch was only going to come to about forty-ish pounds altogether, and really, what was that out of her winnings? She swallowed, looked to Vanessa, and smiled.

“Hey. I’ll get us lunch,” she shrugged, shifting a little in her seat as Vanessa blinked at her.

“Serious? No, Scarlet, I can’t let you do that.”

“Honestly! My loan came in early,” she said, looking down at her plate as she lied. “Think of it as a celebratory, double-date-crush-night-out-whatever-the-fuck-this-is treat. And you can buy me a drink or something when we go out, call it even.”

As a waiter came by and placed another bottle in front of Vanessa, she gave a smile and raised it. “To coming out on the other side of tonight with girlfriends?”

Scarlet smiled as she clinked her glass against Vanessa’s beer. “Let’s not push it.”

The rest of her lunch with Vanessa passed by comfortably, Scarlet paying the bill when they were finished without a second thought and the girls saying goodbye with a hug and an excited squeal in anticipation of later on. Part of Scarlet wanted to head straight to the shops to look for something new to wear but she stopped herself, instead getting in an Uber and going back to the flat, the prospect of her returning to campus for her 3pm lecture growing thin. Turning the keys in her front door, she sighed when she heard loud music coming from Ra’Jah’s room. Scarlet had hoped she’d be out by now. Walking through to the living room to dump her shoes, coat and bag, she paused when she saw something on the messy, cluttered coffee table that she was sure hadn’t been there before.

It was a tiny, clear, plastic ziploc bag filled full of a white powder. Scarlet frowned as she picked it up, transferring the bag between her fingers and watching as the powder inside crumbled and broke up, the same sort of consistency as flour although slightly looser and whiter. The realisation of what she was holding suddenly hit her like a bus, nearly making her drop the bag. She stood silent for a couple of minutes, completely unsure of what to do. Then she heard the music in Ra’Jah’s room get turned up and that seemed to make her decision for her.

Storming back through into the hallway, Scarlet banged on her flatmate’s door. “Ra’Jah!”

The music got cut off and there was an eerie buzz of silence in the flat. The door in front of Scarlet swung open to reveal her flatmate, her face unimpressed. “Yes?”

Scarlet held up the bag, hoping it would elicit some emotion out of the other girl. It did not. “Can you not leave that shit lying around our flat?”

Ra’Jah smiled in amusement, showing a set of slightly uneven teeth. Scarlet felt her top lip curl up in a sneer. Ra'Jah wasn’t able to pull them off, not like Yvie with the cute gap she had between her front teeth. Fuck, was she really thinking of Yvie right now? Ra’Jah leant on the doorframe cockily. “What, a girl ain’t never seen cocaine before?”

“Of course I’ve seen it,” Scarlet lied, gripping the bag tight between her fingers. “I just don’t want the flat looking like a fucking crack den. I mean it’s not a potted plant, Ra’Jah, it’s a fucking class A drug. It’s not decorative.”

“Class A, ooh,” Ra’Jah mimicked mockingly, irritation washing over Scarlet. “Don’t shit yourself, bitch, it’s fine. I only put it down for, like, two seconds anyway. Just give it and I’ll put it somewhere safe.”

Scarlet went to pass it back to her, but something held her back. She looked at the powder again and a flash of thoughts flew through her head, of skinny, glamorous models and nightclub toilets and champagne. It was an illegal drug, and everything Scarlet had been brought up to believe told her it was fucking disgusting, and dangerous, and led to a spiral of addiction and debt. But still part of her was so insatiably curious, like she was addicted without even having tried it yet. She watched Ra’Jah’s expression change as Scarlet curled her fingers back. “Where’d you get it?”

“What is this, twenty fuckin’ questions?” her flatmate snapped back, rolling her eyes. “Just give me my narcotics, bitch.”

“Can I, um. I’ll buy it off you?” Scarlet stumbled out, causing Ra’Jah to look at her in disbelief.

“You want to buy cocaine?” she raised an eyebrow at her, speaking through a slight laugh. Scarlet’s hackles were up.

“Or give me the number of your dealer.”

Ra’Jah let out a small snort, shrugging her shoulders. “Ain’t any need to involve anyone else. Alright, that’s a gram. Give me sixty and it’s a deal.”

Scarlet felt her eyes widen involuntarily, Ra’Jah chuckling in response. “Girl, what did you think it was gonna be? Naomi Campbell snorts this shit for a reason, people use rolled up hundred dollar bills to snort this shit for a reason. It ain’t fuckin’ Cabbage Patch kids weed we talkin’ ‘bout here.”

Scarlet frowned and took out her phone, opening up her banking app. Just before she transferred the money, she looked at her flatmate suspiciously. Ra’Jah rolled her eyes.

“Look, I’m not taking you for a ride. I got it for fifty, a bitch wants to make a profit. Sixty is standard in some places. Others you’d be talkin’ seventy. Google it if you don’t believe me.”

“No, I believe you,” Scarlet simply said, hitting a button and just like that, sixty pounds flew out of her account. A nervous heartbeat felt entirely too fast and too loud in her body. Another hundred pounds gone.

“Thanks, bitch. This was great fun, maybe I’ll drop out and become a dealer,” Ra’Jah laughed, Scarlet saying nothing in reply as the door swung shut in her face. The bag seemed to make her right hand tingle, and a surge of nervous excitement shot through Scarlet like propane.

She got ready for the night ahead in a sort of daze, as the panic and the gravity of what she’d actually done began to sink in. She’d just bought a gram of cocaine for a night out. What the hell was she planning on doing with it? There was no way she’d be able to actually do any. Or was there? That was what Scarlet had always said about weed and now her and Yvie got high together all the time. Her pulse thrummed at her wrists when she thought about the other girl. Scarlet imagined bringing the small bag out in a toilet cubicle with her, watching her eyes grow wide, imagined her thinking holy shit, I never knew Scarlet was this type of girl at all. Imagined them both cutting it up with Scarlet’s bank card and snorting it, then hitting their high on the dancefloor, turning to her and letting Yvie lean in and kiss her in a haze of euphoria and lust.

Scarlet felt a throb of heat pulse between her legs, her doubts gone. This was a good decision.

Scarlet showed up to Vanessa’s flat only running a tiny bit late, ready with a bottle of vodka the size of her head and a couple of mixers in case any of the girls wanted to share. She got buzzed in quickly and was welcomed into the flat by Akeria who was looking a far cry from her usually-glamorous self, her hair piled on top of her head in a towel and a pair of pink flannel pyjamas on. Scarlet was shown through to their kitchen where she found Vanessa, Brooke and Yvie all sitting on the sofa or on chairs beside Silky who was also in her pyjamas and, just as she’d promised on the chat, was watching The Chase. The girls gave a small cry of delight as Scarlet walked in, Scarlet not missing the way Vanessa was sat on Brooke Lynn’s lap. Part of her prickled with jealousy, wishing that her and Yvie were in their place, but she didn’t mind too much. She was happy for Vanessa. Scarlet grabbed a glass, took a chair to sit in, and began pouring a drink as the girls continued to watch the TV.

“Low offer of minus four thousand pounds, high offer, please?”

“Fifty-one thousand pounds.”

“We’re watching The Chase,” Vanessa explained to Scarlet.

“I gathered.”

“If he takes the minus offer, I’m gonna reach through the TV and stab him,” Brooke said seriously, her face displeased.

“Nah, he’s gonna stick in the middle. I trust Nigel, 52, from Stockport,” Yvie drawled, taking a sip of her drink then smiling at Scarlet from her position on the chair beside her, reaching across and squeezing her hand. “Hey, girl, how are you?”

“I’m good, thanks,” she smiled shyly, giving Yvie’s hand a small squeeze back and admiring her crushed-velvet red dress. “You look good.”

Yvie momentarily looked as if she was about to say something cute in response when her eyes were suddenly ripped from Scarlet’s and back to the screen as the girls groaned loudly.

“He’s a fucking TRAITOR,” Silky yelled, launching a cushion at the TV. “Sheila brought back forty-five thousand for this asshole to take from it? NO MA’AM!”

“Well this is the most lit pres I’ve ever been to,” Scarlet deadpanned.

“I hate this motherfuckin’ game show. Silk, turn this shit off,” Vanessa rolled her eyes, her flatmate loudly complaining.

“It’s my fuckin’ flat too, hoe!”

“Yeah, some of us actually have to do work tomorrow,” Akeria piped up from her position at the oven, checking on whatever she’d put inside. “How come you’re out tonight anyway?”

Scarlet caught Vanessa’s eye and she just stopped herself from smiling. “Oh, you know. Sometimes you just fancy going out.”

“It’s called being spontaneous, Kiki. You should try it,” Brooke joined in as she brought both hands up around Vanessa’s waist, the other girl giving a happy sigh and Scarlet staring at them, jealousy burning under her skin. As the other girls bickered, Yvie turned to face her again.

“Hey. You alright?” she asked, concern etched on her face and making Scarlet’s heart swell up.

“No, yeah, I’m good!” she smiled, blinking and trying not to come out with the truth of I’m insanely jealous of how close and cuddly Brooke and Vanessa are being right now and I wish Silky would get up off the sofa so we can join them. Satisfied with her answer, Yvie smiled.

“That’s good. No sad allowed at pres,” she joked, then tapped her gently on the nose. “Also you’re not allowed to be upset, you’re, like, my favourite person. Don’t tell the others.”

Scarlet felt something akin to a tidal wave flood over her whole body. Boosted, she gave Yvie a small wink. “I won’t. I promise.”

Something behind Yvie’s eyes seemed taken-aback, but not in a negative way. Almost as if she hadn’t expected Scarlet to come back with something so flirty so quickly, and Scarlet had to hide her smile behind her hand when she saw Yvie’s cheeks turn slightly pink.

Two hours later, all of Scarlet’s vodka had been drank and the four girls had managed to navigate a drunk Uber ride and entry into one of the fanciest clubs in the city. Usually none of them would have been able to afford the entry fee, but Scarlet had paid the ten pounds for each of them without batting an eyelid. She probably should have cared, but Scarlet had hit that stage where the alcohol had her convinced that life was wonderful, she was invincible, and she would be young and rich forever. She laughed as she cast her eye around the small circle the girls had formed on the dancefloor. Vanessa was dancing, frankly, like a stripper, and Brooke seemed to be living for it, her hands on the other girl’s waist protectively. Yvie was bouncing and flailing about, completely intoxicated, and yelling along to whatever song was playing- Scarlet didn’t know it, but she didn’t really need to. Turning to Yvie, she grabbed her hands and laughed. Yvie looked at her curiously.

“You look like those things…those car lot things…they go like this in the wind,” Scarlet explained, suddenly demonstrating to Yvie and throwing her hands in the air. Yvie buckled over with laughter, her hands on her knees, and Scarlet was so pleased she’d made her laugh.

“Bitch you started doing the floss to Miami 2 Ibiza, shut the fuck up,” Yvie snorted, Scarlet howling beside her. Casting her eye again to Brooke and Vanjie, an idea planted itself in Scarlet’s head.

“Yvie, watch me dance like Vanessa,” she commanded, suddenly feeling emboldened enough to throw her arms around Yvie’s neck and push her body up against hers. She ran her hands through the other girl’s hair messily, Yvie’s eyes half-lidded as she laughed gently at her.

“Girl…messing up my hair,” she muttered, Scarlet smiling back brazenly.

“It was messed up when you did it,” she smiled cheekily, tapping Yvie on the nose like she’d done to her earlier. Without giving her a chance to respond, Scarlet dropped down onto the floor in a move she hoped would make her look irresistible. Instead, she toppled over and ended up flat on her back against the sticky floor, the crowd parting around her like the Red Sea. She looked up to see Yvie laughing hysterically, holding both her hands out to her. Scarlet took them gratefully and she was pulled up, beside Yvie again only this time with just a fraction of the confidence. Yvie must have seen her pouting as Scarlet felt her strong arms being wrapped around her in a hug.

“Aw baby, I like your dancing the way it is,” she slurred into her ear, a tingle shooting down Scarlet’s spine at the proximity of Yvie’s lips to her skin. Scarlet was about to do something, say something, when she suddenly felt herself being wrenched away from Yvie and dancing beside Vanessa, who was gripping her arm. Scarlet was confused until Vanessa leaned in close to her and yelled above the music.

“I got an idea,” she said, her voice thick with alcohol. “Gonna make them both jealous.”

Scarlet’s eyes widened, an electric shock running through her veins as Vanessa pulled her close, then tilted her head up and kissed her. There was little to no hesitation and Scarlet felt herself kissing back, feeling the eyes of the other girls on them both. Vanessa kissed as if she’d known Scarlet’s lips her whole life, hot and passionate, and it briefly ran through Scarlet’s mind that Vanessa probably had a certain Canadian blonde on her mind as she was doing it. She desperately wanted to open her eyes, to look over to Yvie to see if she even cared. Show over, Vanessa pulled away, beaming and laughing, and Scarlet felt herself laugh back. In her drunk state, the situation was funny- the pair of them getting with each other to try to make their two other friends jealous. It appeared to have worked, certainly in Scarlet’s case, as Yvie took her hand and pulled her back, an odd sort of smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She shouted over the music at Scarlet, something that she couldn’t quite hear.

“What?”

Yvie raised her voice a little more. “I didn’t know you liked Vanessa like that!”

Scarlet laughed. “I don’t!”

Yvie gave her a funny look, a multitude of questions no doubt running around her head. Scarlet felt her confidence peak and she leaned in close to Yvie’s ear, Yvie’s arms snaking round her waist instinctively. “You jealous, girl?”

She felt Yvie’s body shake in a laugh Scarlet could tell was affected. “No…bitch.”

Scarlet leant her head on her shoulder and spoke against her neck. “Hey, 'f you’re lucky it might be you next time.”

She pressed a tiny kiss against Yvie’s skin and pulled away laughing, Yvie looking momentarily shaken then joining in with Scarlet’s laughter. Scarlet ran her tongue over her teeth. Fucking yes. Suddenly, she remembered the tiny bag she had in her bra. She caught the attention of the other girls and shouted over the music again. “Guys. Come pee with me.”

She began to make her way through the crowd to the toilets, hearing Vanessa and Yvie laugh at Brooke singing a parody of Come Fly With Me but replacing the word “fly” with “pee”. They eventually all managed to cram into a cubicle together, Scarlet counting her blessings that there was no toilet attendant on duty who would almost definitely have bundled them all out. The girls looked shocked as Scarlet turned around from locking the door and produced the bag from her bra.

“Is anyone down?” she asked lightly, Brooke letting out a nervous laugh beside her. Vanessa flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“What the fuck is that,” Yvie asked, her face set in a hesitant, concerned smile. Scarlet shrugged.

“It’s exactly what it looks like.”

Vanessa spoke first with a blase shrug. “Yeah, bitch, let’s do it.”

Scarlet smiled happily, part of her quite surprised at how readily Vanessa agreed to the whole thing. Her eyes darted to Yvie, who was still looking at the bag cautiously. Obviously noticing her eyes on her, Yvie gave her a look that Scarlet couldn’t quite decipher, then screwed her face up. “So this is a thing we all do now?”

Vanessa narrowed her eyes at her. “Aw Jesus, Yvie, it’s one key in a club on a night out, we’re not all about to turn into fuckin’ junkies.”

Scarlet’s confidence had been given a knock. She hesitantly caught Yvie’s eye. “I mean, you don’t have to, I just thought-”

“No, girl, I’ll do some. ’M not a fucking pussy,” she frowned, taking a breath that seemed to be shaky and turning to Brooke, who was still looking with wide eyes at Scarlet. “Brooke, you doing this?”

It occurred to Scarlet that this was the first time she’d ever seen Brooke look anything other than completely sure of herself. She was laughing awkwardly, almost nervously. Scarlet watched as Vanessa put a gentle hand on her arm. “You don’t have to, baby.”

“No, well, y'know me. Try anything once,” she slurred, leaning into Vanessa’s touch. “Okay, fuck, let’s do this shit.”

Scarlet moved to empty the bag out onto the toilet cistern, but Vanessa put out a hand to stop her. “Woah, girl, the fuck you doin’? Just take a key, ain’t no need for all that fuckin’ credit card shit.”

Scarlet frowned at her, confused in her drunken state. “Keys?”

Vanessa seemed to shrink back into herself as she saw all three girls looking at her intently, wondering how she knew so much about the process. Wordlessly, she gestured for the baggie and produced her keys from her gold clutch bag. She calmly opened the small plastic bag and fished into it with a single key, balancing some of the powder on the length of it. With a short glance up at the girls, she pressed a finger to one nostril and gave a quick, harsh sniff with the other. As quickly as it had appeared, the cocaine was gone. Vanessa rubbed quickly at her nose, sniffing awkwardly.

“Alright, who’s next?” she questioned. Scarlet could feel Yvie’s eyes on her.

“Well since Scarlet brought it, she should go next,” she said, something off to her tone and her stare that Scarlet couldn’t quite pinpoint. Scarlet shrugged stiffly, Vanessa reaching back into the bag with the key and holding some out for her. The butterflies in her stomach almost overwhelming, Scarlet leaned forward and mimicked what Vanessa had done. The first thing that she felt was the all-encompassing smell of petrol, followed by a horrific stinging at the back of her nose and mouth, Scarlet briefly being reminded of jumping into swimming pools when she was little and water shooting up her nose. She gave a cough and a big, follow-up sniff, Vanessa chuckling lightly.

Well, that just happened.

Nervously thrilled, Scarlet felt the butterflies in her stomach dissipate as she watched Vanessa hold a key out to Yvie. Yvie frowned and shook her head.

“Nah. Changed my mind. I’m out,” she said darkly, shooting Scarlet a glare that made her feel like a reprimanded child.

“Come on, Yvie, it’s fine,” Scarlet offered, the other girl scrunching up her face.

“No. It’s not happening. You guys have fun.”

Scarlet felt dejected. She wished she knew what she’d done wrong. Trying to push her feelings aside, Scarlet watched as Vanessa turned the key to Brooke. Brooke was looking from the key to the lock of the toilet stall, nervous. Vanessa reached up and touched a lock of her hair.

“You don’t have to, Brooky.”

“No, I will, I will. I’m just nervous. And excited,” she stammered out, Scarlet thinking she couldn’t have judged the girls’ reaction to this entire situation less accurately if she’d tried.

“You can rub it on your gums if you don’t wanna snort it,” Vanessa explained, part of Scarlet wishing she’d told her that before her turn. Brooke tilted her head, considering, then wet her finger, reached into the bag and took some. Then she put her finger back in her mouth and maneuvered it around, her eyes on Vanessa.

“You tryna flirt, boo?” the other girl questioned, her eyes half-lidded as she locked eyes with her.

Brooke let out a laugh. “Bitch I’m trying to take fucking drugs!”

Vanessa, Brooke and Scarlet burst out laughing, Yvie shushing them.

“Right, let’s go, junkies,” she said irritably. Scarlet frowned, sad that she seemed to have upset Yvie in some way. An idea came to her as they left the cubicle and wandered past the judgemental line of waiting girls.

“I’m gonna get us a bottle of champagne,” Scarlet decided, sure for a second that she saw Yvie roll her eyes, but she wasn’t too sure.

“Vanjie, does it look obvious we’ve been doing drugs?” Scarlet heard Brooke yell over the music, Vanessa laughing gently.

“Everyone here is on drugs, baby. Just chill. It’ll kick in in a minute,” she winked, taking both of Brooke’s hands and jumping a little on the dancefloor.

Scarlet watched as Brooke’s eyes darted to a security camera on the ceiling. “Guys. They can see us. They know.”

“Brooke, relax, nobody gives a shit,” Yvie rolled her eyes. Brooke turned to Scarlet, panic filling her eyes.

“Scarlet, what was in that? Is it all okay, yeah? It’s not got anything through it?”

“Oh, good. Well done, bitch, are you seeing this?” Yvie glared at Scarlet before she had a chance to reply to Brooke. “Brooke! It’s fine! You’re okay!”

The music seemed as if it had been turned up louder. Scarlet scrunched her eyes closed. “Brooke, it’s fine, okay? I’m going to the bar, who wants something?”

“Ugh, of course you are,” she thought she heard Yvie mutter. Suddenly irritated, Scarlet whipped around to face her.

“And what is that meant to mean, huh?” she snapped, Yvie’s eyes widening a little at being challenged.

“You, bitch! What the fuck is up with you these days?”

“Nothing’s up with me? What is this?!” Scarlet cried, a couple of heads turning their way then slowly turning back. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest as if she’d just drank fifty Red Bulls back to back, although she was unable to tell if this was the effect of the drugs or just how annoyed she was.

“Something’s off with you. Fucking…cocaine, champagne, this constant…buying everything for everyone like we’re all charity cases, behaving like you’re a fucking extra off Gossip Girl? This isn’t you, Scarlet!” Yvie yelled back, suddenly grasping her by the wrists and giving her a shake. “The normal Scarlet would have shit herself at the thought of doing a key, the normal Scarlet would want to go to Levels and pay a pound for entry instead of going here to dance around with a bunch of fucking Love Island rejects!”

Yvie’s words stung harshly at Scarlet’s heart. She knew the other girl could sometimes grow argumentative when she was drunk, but Scarlet had never had it directed at her. It wasn’t nice. Scarlet felt her tone switch a little as she spoke. “Yvie, you’re being kind of a dick.”

Yvie gave a laugh of disbelief. “Well breaking fucking news, Scarlet! So are you! I mean do you have any idea how shitty it is to see your best friend grow into a total asshole over the space of two weeks?”

“Guys,” Vanessa suddenly interrupted out of nowhere, and Scarlet had no idea how long they’d been fighting or at what volume. “Me and Brooke are gonna go. She’s not doing well.”

Yvie looked at Vanessa, panicked. She cast Scarlet one last withering look before dashing through the crowd, presumably to pick up their jackets. Scarlet felt a bubble of upset prick at her throat. She turned to Vanessa instead. “What’s happened?”

“She thinks she’s having a heart attack. I mean, she’s not, it’s just the drugs, but I’m still worried about her,” she frowned, biting her lip. Vanessa jerked a thumb back to where Yvie had slinked off. “The fuck was that all about?”

Scarlet shook her head silently, not trusting herself to speak unless she began to cry. She didn’t understand how she’d managed to fuck everything up so badly. Vanessa saw her upset and pulled her in for a quick hug.

“Baby. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

The four of them got their coats and joined the taxi queue in a blur. Yvie wouldn’t even look her way, and Scarlet didn’t trust herself to try to speak to her in case she managed to make things even worse. She seemed more concerned about Brooke anyway, who was chattering away, her teeth clicking together in the cold night air.

“Is the taxi driver going to know? Will he just drive us to the police station and hand us in? Do you think he’ll phone the police? What if the police were to just come here right now and say they’re giving random drug tests to everyone in the line? What if-”

“Oh my God, what if you shut the fuck up?” Yvie snapped, Brooke looking taken-aback. Vanessa wrapped her arms around Brooke’s waist protectively.

“Brooky. It’s alright. The police aren’t coming, the taxi driver isn’t gonna turn us in. We’re going back to your flat and we’ll get you into bed safe. You’ve got us, nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

Brooke let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a sob. She buried her face in Vanessa’s hair. “I love you, V’nessa.”

Scarlet saw something shut down behind Vanessa’s eyes as she squeezed Brooke tightly. “I love you too, baby.”

Scarlet couldn’t stop herself from casting her eyes across to Yvie, selfishly longing. If she hadn’t fucked everything up, maybe something could have happened. Now, though, it looked as if she’d have to piece their friendship back together, never mind anything more.

The line moved up, and they found themselves at the front. Brooke and Vanessa spilled in, then Yvie. Scarlet went to join them when she found the door getting pulled across in her face. Yvie scowled at her. “No. You’re not getting in with us. I don’t even want to speak to you right now.”

Scarlet could hear Vanessa protesting. “Yvie, for fuck’s sake-”

“You’re not coming with us, bitch. Make your own damn way home,” she reiterated, slamming the door shut.

As the taxi sped away, Scarlet couldn’t fix the slack-jawed look of complete hurt she could feel on her face. As the reality of what had just happened sank in, she felt her face crumple like a paper bag as she began to cry, stood on her own at the taxi rank in the small hours of the morning, and all she could do was wait.

#rpdr fanfiction #tw drug and alcohol use

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adoxographyy-gurl · 5 years

Text

I Promise

I didn’t know how to post on AO3 (whoops). So I decided to post on here. So @thefruitloop-chan here is my entry to your DFO contest. No matter what, if I win or not, I will try to figure out AO3 and make this a multi-chapter fic.

Izuku opened up his blinds in his room. He was full of energy, even though the city of Shizuoka was still asleep. The sky was ombre of colors, from a dark midnight sky to a slight peach color. Young Midoriya throws off his All-Might covers and runs out of his room to his parents.

“Dad,” Izuku exclaimed as he climbed up on his parents’ bed. They lay together, big arms wrapped around a small waist. His mom was tucked into his dad’s chest, the only indication of her being there was the plume of green hair sticking out. Izuku’s dad’s face twitched, hearing his son’s voice disturbing his peaceful slumber. “Dad,” Izuku whined this time. His tiny four-year-old hands poke at his father’s cheek. “Dad, you promised.”

“Five more minutes,” Hisashi groans and squeezes himself into Inko. He hears a sniffle and a quiet “Okay”. Goddamn, the kid can pull on some heartstrings.

“Hisashi. I really don’t want to wake up with you still in bed and our son sitting on the floor with tears on his cheeks,” Inko mumbled in Hisashi’s chest, “Or that will make me real furious.” Even in her sleep, her mommy radar is on. Hisashi feared her. He really does. But he also loved her with all his heart, and he agreed, hearing (and worst of all, seeing) his son sad was horrible and made Hisashi want to hunt down whoever harmed his son. Hisashi leaned down and kissed her head, hearing her give a purr of approval. He rolled over and was instantly hit with guilt. There, sitting on the ground, was his son pouting. His big green eyes that he inherited from his mother was filled with tears, some already spilling out of his eyes. His eyebrows furrowed with deep sadness and his lip jutting out a bit as he counts up to 300 (with a stumble here and there due to only learning how to count to 100 recently).

Hisashi was pathetic. “You ready to go,” he asked. As if he flicked on a light switch, Izuku’s expression changed. His eyes were shinning as if there were diamonds in his eyes and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. Izuku nodded his head with rapid speed. “Well let’s change out of our pajamas and we can go, okay?” Izuku got up and ran towards his room.

~~~

The promise.

It was a good promise, something Hisashi really enjoys doing with his son.

The promise he gave to his son was that every Monday morning (around 6), they will go out in the city and watch a hero fight (or what Izuku adorably says “Bad Guy Smash”). For Izuku, it’s a way for him to see up and coming heroes come into the scene. Most of the heroes are helping to stop petty crimes like theft and simple assault. For him, he gets to see, who could be the new big hero.

However, for Hisashi, he goes to see what is on the market. The villain. Does he have a motive? A real motive. Not some stupid thing about wanting to get rich but to show how unfair society was to people who have lesser quirks than those with amazing ones. Does he have a flashy quirk that would actually benefit him in the long run or something that is weak with no potential. You see, Hisashi Midoriya was, and still is, a big villain in Japan. However, he isn’t known by Japan. Just to a select few people.

“I wonder if we get to see All Might today,” Izuku asked with a big grin. He sat on the hardwood floor, taking off his All Might bunny house slippers for his tennis shoes. They were a vibrant red that also lit up. Hisashi makes a face. It’s no secret in the Midoriya household that Hisashi doesn’t like All Might. The reasoning behind it varied, depending on who you talked to.

Inko knows a portion of the truth. She knew that Hisashi is older than he looked (some longevity quirk he mentioned offhandedly). That All Might’s predecessor was a real prick to her husband and his family. She knows enough. As a paralegal, Inko insisted she wanted to know somethings but not everything. She does know that her husband is a villain, but she made him promise never to mix work and family ever. (He wasn’t going to but sometimes he likes it when Inko berates him).

Izuku idea changes every time you ask him. One day he says it’s because his dad’s favorite color is black, and All Might has three. Another day could be that his dad hates how loud All Might is compared to his quiet tone. Or once he said it was because his father’s hair was unruly, and All Might’s was manageable.

Hisashi could tell his son the truth about himself and why he hates All Might. Izuku (even for his age) could keep a secret. But…he didn’t want to crush his son’s hopes and dreams. Hisashi was gone for two weeks and when he returned, he learned the truth. That his son was quirkless.

Now in some other timeline or universe, this could make Hisashi hate his son and his wife and for him to leave the family. But in this universe, Hisashi just remembers that he lived in a generation that people were just getting quirks. That people with quirks were the minority. It made sense on why his son didn’t have one. He also remembered his younger brother. His brother and his son were identical on their attitudes on life and how much energy they both showed. Though his brother was sick, which caused him to be weak. His son was the opposite. He was always health (barely ever getting sick) and even without a quirk, he was strong. Strong willed and strong minded. They had the same idea of justice and believed in a better future. And Hisashi couldn’t bear seeing his son and him having a rift between them. So, he keeps his son naïve. For now. He’ll tell his son when he’s older.

“Son, why do you favor All-Might?”

Izuku gets up from his spot and clinks his heel on the floor. “I don’t know. I think I like him because no matter how bad the problem is or gets, he always has a smile on his face. He appears happy which makes me happy.” Izuku looks up from his shoes and takes his two index fingers and put them on his cheek, pushing them up to emphasize his smile.

Hisashi stares at his son for a minute than repeats the action back but with a frown. Izuku frowns back and tries to fix his face, telling him he has to smile and to “turn that frown upside down”. Though the action was something that started from Nana Shimura and has been passed down to All Might, it made Izuku look 30x cuter. But to think that he only likes All Might just because he…smiled, was weird. Must be a 4-year-old thing.

“But All Might isn’t my all-time favorite hero.”

“He’s not,” Hisashi questioned. This was surprising.

“Nope,” Izuku smiles and looks at his dad, “It’s you.”

Hisashi’s heart swelled. And that’s why he didn’t want to tell his son. He is his son’s hero. If he were to tell Izuku the truth, he wouldn’t smile so carefree anymore. Hisashi smiled down at his son, “And you’re mine.”

Izuku beamed and lifted his arms up to picked up. Hisashi chuckled and picked up his son. He opened the door only to come face to face with one of his helpers (who looks more like a butler), Kurogiri.

“Good morning A-Hisashi,” Kurogiri says with a slight bow.

“Oh, good morning Kurogiri. What brings you out here?”

Before Kurogiri could speak, Izuku inserts himself into the conversation. “Hi Mr. Kurogiri,” Izuku said with a grin, “Are you coming with us to see heroes?”

Kurogiri’s yellow eyes widen as they dart between Izuku and Hisashi, “Um…no. I have an important matter that I need to discuss with your father.” Izuku looked down at Hisashi, with a pout, “But you promised.”

“You’re right Izuku, I did promise,” Hisashi tapped Izuku’s shin, “So Mr. Kurogiri is coming with us.” He places Izuku back on the ground. “Now aren’t you forgetting some more things?”

Izuku looked confused, “No?”

“Son, I’m taking you to school after this and you don’t have your backpack or your lunch. And you’re going to leave without telling your mother bye?” Izuku’s eyes widen at the scandal he was about to commit, and he ran from the front door to prepare for the day. Hisashi smiled as he watched his son run but quickly let his eyes dart over to Kurogiri. Kurogiri stiffened, knowing what was about to happen. All for One has explicitly told him to never bring anything work related to his household, especially if Izuku is around.

“Kurogiri, this better be important,” All for One glared.

“Oh yes, sir. It is very important and time sensitive.” Hisashi crossed his arms.

“And what is it?”

“I found Nana.”

Hisashi stiffen but relaxed, “So you ARE wasting my time. Because here’s the thing. Nana has been dead for the last, I don’t know, 20 years. So what yo-”

“No sir. Not Nana herself, but her next in line, or really, her grandson.”

“How did you know that Nana had kids?”

“She had put her son up for adoption due to how risky being a hero is,” Kurogiri says, “He’s grown now and has a son of his own. Her grandson has a quirk that lets him decay things if he lays his a hand on it.”

“How did you find him?”

“The son kept his surname, even after getting adopted. I was listening to the dispatchers, like you told me, and I heard that the apartment building over on the rough side of town had caught on fire. Apparently, Nana’s son was the landlord there. They said the Shimura Apartment Complex. But when you look up the name on the internet, it comes up as All Apartments.”

Hisashi smiled a devious smile. His mind raced, all the possibilities. To have Nana’s grandson under his wing. The son would be preferable but considering the fact that he is an adult, he would be hard to manipulate.

“Well done, Kurogiri,” Hisashi chuckles and put his arm around Kurogiri’s shoulders, “But next time, call me.”

“I will. I’m sorry.”

Hisashi gave a thunderous laugh and smacked his hand on Kurogiri back, “It’s fine.” He heard tiny pitter-patter of feet coming towards him. He sees his tiny ball of sunshine trying to hurry to catch up before all the bad guy fights are over. “Kurogiri, if you don’t mind, can you make a portal for us?”

~~~

“Aw that sucks,” Izuku whines from his father’s side. They visited an apartment complex, similar to theirs, that was burning. Instead of a hero with a water quirk or one with a wind quirk, they brought Endeavor. “I hate Endeavor.” The fire hero was always rude to his fans and never let anyone help him whenever a situation could be solved by multiple people. Yeah, the hero was immune to fire and could go into the fire and save people but did they not think about the smoke and how that could burn his lungs? Apparently not. And again, this could be a two-person team up.

“Dad, who do you think should have been the one saving the people,” Izuku looked up at his dad only to see that he wasn’t beside him. It was some unfamiliar man. Izuku turned to his left and saw old woman holding her fat cat. Izuku felt fear. His breathing quickened and he felt his eyes getting wet. He was about to scream for his dad when he saw something shift in an alleyway. Now Izuku can think logically but in his muddled, scared brain, he headed towards the alleyway.

In the alleyway was a small kid, lanky, and slim. The kid was pale and had white hair. The kid had made himself into a ball, his shoulders shaking. Izuku could hear the kid sniffle. Izuku walked closer and was going to ask if the kid was okay until he stepped on an empty bag of potato chips. The kid stopped crying and looked up from his ball. His eyes were crimson like his friends, Kacchan, however, they were bloodshot due to the crying. He had a mole on the right side of his chapped, uneven lips. Blood was seeping out from the left side of is mouth and from his right eye.

“W-w-who are you,” the kid asked. He was older, maybe by 5 years or so but from how small he looked, he could be confused as younger, “What do you want?” “I was wondering if you were okay,” Izuku asked. He leaned forward, reaching out to try and wipe the hair from the kid’s face but his hand was swatted away.

“Don’t touch me or you’ll die,” the kid warned. Izuku gulped. He didn’t want to die. He was only 4. But the kid looked like he needed a friend or, at least, a shoulder to cry on. Izuku tried again, the kid leaned back until his head tapped the wall behind him. He was trapped. He closed his eyes, waiting for the newcomer to turn into dust when he touched his face. Light fingers touched his cheek and moved his hair to his ear.

“You have a big booboo on your face,” the Izuku said. He wiped back and brought out a small packet of tissues. “My mom does this all the time. I don’t think it really works but I don’t want to hurt her feelings.” He wets the tip of tissue and places it on his wounds. The blood seeps onto the tissue and instantly soaks it. Izuku tries again and again to no avail until he runs out of tissues. “I’m sorry. That’s all I have.”

“It’s fine.”

“My name is Izuku. Izuku Midoriya,” Izuku stuck out his hand, waiting for a handshake. The kid looked down at Izuku’s hand and brought his hands closer to his chest. Izuku blinked but changed his hand from a handshake to a fist bump. The kid raised his right hand and bumped Izuku’s with hesitation. “Um, my name is Tenko Shimura. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Izuku beamed, “Is it okay if I sit with you?” Tenko looked at his side and pursed his lips. Tenko really doesn’t know the limit to his quirk. Was it only just his hands or was other body parts? Does he have to touch said thing or can said thing touch him and turn to dust? Before Tenko could answer, Izuku sat next to Tenko, crisscrossed, with his yellow backpack on his lap. He opened up his bag and ruffled through his things, trying to find what else he needed to take care of Tenko.

“Where are your parents,” Tenko asked, frowning.

Izuku froze. In a way, he kind of forgotten that he lost his dad and he didn’t know how to retrace his step to go home. “I lost my dad in the crowd from the fire and my mom is at home. Where are yours?”

Tenko stiffened a little but lets out a quiet sigh, “I think still at the apartment building. They said run and I did. They’re probably freaking out right now.” He gives a small chuckle. To be honest, they probably died in the fire that he accidently caused. He doesn’t mind though, they were trash anyway. The two kids sat in silence for a while, the firetrucks and the constant yelling from Endeavor filled the silence between them. Suddenly, in unison, their stomachs growled.

“I guess you didn’t eat breakfast either,” Izuku asked. Tenko chuckled, his face turning slightly red. Still pale but it has a little color. He nodded his head. Izuku digs into his backpack until he finds the bento box his mom packed for him. He opens it and sees that she made him 3 rice balls shaped like All Might. “Here. You can have some of my lunch.” Izuku tries to pass the dish over to Tenko, just for him to stare at the container. His fingers fidgeted but they stay where they were. Izuku takes a rice ball and places one in Tenko’s hand. Tenko pulls his hand close to his body and used his other hand to pick up the rice ball. He had his pinky raised when he eat the food. Maybe he’s British.

“You can eat the rest if you want. I can eat breakfast when I get to school,” Izuku pushes the box closer to Tenko.

“Izuku!”

Izuku perked up like a dog and try to pinpoint the voice. He looked at the mouth of the alleyway but saw no one. He looked back at Tenko but he was too distracted by the food, his face giving a sour look.

“Izuku! Izuku where are you?” His dad’s voice sounds closer but suddenly sounded like it was far away, like he was turning around.

“Dad,” Izuku jumped from his spot by his new friend. “Dad!” He felt tears well up in his eyes. He sniffled then felt a drop of something wet hit his hand. He was crying. “Daddy!!!”

Hisashi pivots and runs back to the voice of his son. When he saw his son, he ran and kneels. He grabs his son and give him a bear hug. “Izuku, are you okay? Are you hurt?” He patted his son everywhere. He saw a small splatter of blood on his hands. “Are you bleeding? Where are you bleeding?”

“No Dad, I’m fine,” Izuku said in his father’s shoulder, heaving in breathes of air. That’s when Izuku remembered his new friend, “Dad this isn’t my blood. It’s Tenko’s blood. He’s hurt real bad.”

Hisashi unwraps himself from his son and looks and the kid his son is talking about. He stiffens. It’s the boy he was looking for. How did his son find him? Nevermind that. Izuku said the kid was hurt. There were two cuts on the boy’s face, caked with trash from being in the alley. If not treated soon, this kid might get an infection. Hisashi tries to step towards him but the boy makes himself into a ball.

“Wait Tenko, you can trust him. He’s a good guy.”

Tenko started to hyperventilate. There were too many people now. The man was big and burly. Tenko’s father was big too and he always hurt Tenko. Izuku’s father was going to hurt him and he couldn’t even defend himself because he was breathing too fast and the world was going a little dark and-

“Breath.”

Tenko stopped. He looked to his side and saw Izuku beside him. He had started mimicking some breathing exerises. Tenko stared at Izuku for a bit but resumed breathing. “You’re going to be okay. This is going to pass,” Izuku kept reassuring Tenko.

Hisashi was…impressed. Unfornately, maybe all those times Izuku came home beat up, paid off. The kid looked like he was calming down, his breathing following Izuku’s and his eyes trained on him.

“This is my dad, Hisashi. He just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Izuku said. Tenko glanced over at Hisashi. “Is it okay if he looks at your face?” Tenko waited a beat than nodded his head. Hisashi scooted forward and lightly touched Tenko’s face. Tenko stiffened. Hisashi didn’t move, waiting for Tenko to get use to his hand on face for a bit. Tenko relaxed. Hisashi gently moved his face left and right, up and down.

“You have two cuts on your face. They are pretty deep,” Hisashi mumbled, “You might need to go to the hospital and get stitches. Where are your parents?”

“They’re back at the apartment building,” Tenko mutter. Something was off about that statement, Hisashi noticed, but wouldn’t worry about it until later.

“That’s fine. Izuku and I will just take you to the doctors ourselves.”

“We can’t do that,” Izuku explained.

“Why not?”

“What if his parents are looking for him? We can’t just take him.” Tenko flinched. Yeah something to do with his parents. Maybe he doesn’t want his parents to find him? Hisashi used one of his many quirks and looked into Tenko’s mind. He sees a man looming over Tenko with his hands balled into fist. His mother was standing by the counter and was sipping glass of water, talking on the phone with a friend. Her face was scrunched up like she smelled something foul. Hisashi felt sick. He popped out of Tenko’s mind and gave a tight smiled to his son.

“I don’t think they’ll mind that we are taking him to get help.”

Izuku looked at his dad with disbelief. “I’m serious. How about this, to ease your worried mind, we can leave them a note. Does that sound good to you?” Izuku thought the idea through. If they left Tenko behind, his parents could find him but his wounds could get worse. If they take Tenko with them, they could get him help but also risk his parents missing them and thinking he was lost or kidnapped. But if they take him and leave a note-

As son was muttering the pros and cons of the situation, Hisashi looked back at Tenko. He was sitting on the ground waiting for something to happen.

“You killed your parents?”

Tenko tensed, “Yeah. They were bad people.”

Hisashi sighed, “If I was in your situation, I would’ve done the same thing. Did you ever report them to the police?”

“I did. Multiple times. But my parents were good at lying. They never got caught.” Tenko let out a hiccup, “I thought a hero would save me.” He started to cry, the tears mixing with the blood. “But no one came to help me.”

“Except Izuku.”

Tenko stopped talking and look at Hisashi. Hisashi smiled, “Did you know my son is quirkless?” Tenko’s eyes widen. Someone being quirklesss? That is a very uncommon attribute someone to have. “My son has always wanted to be a hero. But when the doctor told him he can never be one, his heart shattered. I told him all the time he doesn’t have to have a quirk to be a good person and help out. But I don’t think my words helped. Once his classmates found out he was quirkless, they started to bully him. Which is funny considering they are all kindergarteners. But nonetheless, he still wanted to be a hero. Society has weird double standards. You wanted a hero to save you and no one came, not even the regular people. And yet, my quirkless son found you and saved you. Isn’t that something?”

Tenko looked back at Izuku in a different light. He was a true definition of a hero. He helped someone random stranger without anything in return. He didn’t care about the other things going around, he made sure that Tenko was always safe and comfortable. Izuku never wanted fame or fortune, just a…friend?

“We can take you home with us,” Hisashi started, “Taking you to the hospital is too dangerous and I don’t want to risk a pro trying to wrangle you to foster care. That could make your living situation worse. My wife can help clean the wound a bit and see if you really need stitches. If you do, I have a doctor friend who can do things on the slide. What do you say, Tenko?”

Tenko stared at Hisashi then looked back at Izuku, stilling muttering up a storm, “Will Izuku becoming with us?”

“Of course. He’ll be with us the whole day. And besides, Izuku’s clothes are a mess. My son gets teased as it is, I don’t want to give the kids another reason to beat him up.”

Tenko sighed but nodded, “Okay, I’ll come with you.”

“Excellent,” Hisashi smiled and clapped his big hands, making thunder like noise in the alleyway, “Than it’s settled. We’ll take you to the house and get that nasty gash fixed for you. Izuku, stop muttering we have to take Tenko with us to the house.”

Izuku stopped muttering but confusion was evident on his face, “I thought we were taking Tenko to the hospital?” “We were but Tenko just told me he’s afraid of doctors and would prefer to stay with us and have your mom fix him up.”

“Oh okay,” Izuku smiled and rushed over to his dad’s side. He tucks on his dad’s sleeve and raises his arms up. Hisashi sighs but with a small smile and picks up his son. “Wait, Dad. What about the note?” Hisashi looks around and picks up Izuku’s backpack. He opens the bag and see one of Izuku’s many hero notebooks.

“Is it okay if I write a note from your notebook?”

“Um…I guess,” Izuku muttered, pressing his heel into his father’s shoulder, “But don’t mess up my notebook. It’s very important to me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Hisashi writes a quick note for All Might (or to whomever it may concern) saying that they have lost a valuable player. He’s thankful at the moment that Izuku can’t read that well. He’s smart, yes, but can’t read everything properly or accurately. He showed the letter to his son, “Does that look good to you?”

Izuku scrunched up his nose, trying to decipher the handwriting. He’s concentrating so hard, his tongue is poking out. When he was satisfied, he nodded his head and gave a thumbs up to his dad, “Looks great to me.”

Hisashi chuckled and tore the page out from the book. He placed the note on a heap of garbage. If no one picks it up, oh well. He straightens up and starts walking to the mouth of the alleyway and heard small footsteps right behind him. He stops and waits for Tenko to catch up with them.

“Come on Tenko, don’t be a slowpoke,” Izuku shouts from the top of shoulders.

Hisashi gives out his hand for Tenko to grab. Tenko looked at the hand and scooted back a little. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Tenko muttered.

“Don’t worry. Dad doesn’t bite,” Izuku gave a wary smile, “but I can hold your hand.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Hisashi answered in a hurried, “and like Izuku said, I don’t bite. You can hold my hand.”

Tenko looked between Izuku and Hisashi, pain all over his face. Tenko let’s out a tiny exhale and let’s his hand fall into Hisashi’s. He held his breath, waiting for the screaming and the dust to fall in between his fingers. All he felt was his hand getting tight. He looked up toe see Izuku and Hisashi looking at him with smiles on their faces. For different reasons, of course, but smiles nonetheless.

“Okay boys,” Hisashi looks towards the exit, “Let’s go home.”

#dad for one #dad for one contest #midoriya izuku #all for one

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spidergwenstefani · 5 years

Text

Finals Week

This is a really self-indulgent semi sequel to this ficlet I wrote a little while ago about theatre major Bucky and frat bro Clint. Apparently this is gonna be the AU i use for pointless fluffy comfort now bc I’m stressed with finals essays and these boys are helping.

I definitely shifted some background characters around since the last fic sorry steve but i don’t super care so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bucky spins his desk chair around in a lazy circle, watching the moon shining through his apartment window blur into a bright stripe with the rest of his surroundings. Someone on the floor above him has tuned their Spotify to some kind of low-fi study playlist, and Bucky feels genuinely relaxed for the first time in… months, actually.

This last week has been rough. Nearly all of his finals ended up scheduled on the same Friday and Natasha had to actually hold him back from leaping out the library window on Thursday night. It worked out alright. The Lighting Design 201 presentation had gone off shockingly well, the History of Stage Design final was way easier than expected, and his group project for Gender in Shakespeare really pulled through in the end. He half-assed the conclusion for his Dramaturgy essay, but there was only so much he could say about August Wilson without the professor realizing he was just spitting his class notes back at him. So now he’s done. A whole five days before the semester ends, too. It feels like a thousand-pound weight has been lifted off Bucky’s shoulders. He hums along to the slow jam echoing down from his upstairs neighbor, scooping up his phone to check his messages.

Nat (3 hours ago) Congrats on being done with finals

Nat (3 hours ago) If you didn’t turn that gd Fences essay in on time I will climb in through your window and strangle you in your sleep

Steve (2 hours ago) Hey! Me and some buddies were planning on going out for pizza around 7 tomorrow. Do you wanna come with? You can bring Clint so you don’t have to listen to grad students all night.

Steve (2 hours ago) Please say yes. I don’t want to listen to grad students all night.

Nat (42 minutes ago) Have you heard from Clint? He hasn’t answered my texts in hours. Not sure if I should be concerned

Nat (40 minutes ago) Send him a dick pic and see if that gets a response

Clint (3 minutes ago) im fckin dropping uot

Bucky ignores Steve and Natasha for now, typing out a quick response to Clint.

Bucky Well I’m done with finals

Bucky Can I convince you to stay in college with some fantastic Fuck Dramaturgy victory sex?

Clint i dont kno what htat is

Bucky I’ve explained Dramaturgy to you like five times

Clint i cant remembr

Clint what day is it

Clint bucky im dyin :’(

Bucky rolls his eyes, grabbing the keys off his desk and pulling on his sneakers. He would have preferred to avoid the Greek side of campus today if at all possible, but he has an idiot boyfriend to console.

Bucky omw

>>==========>

Beta Theta Pi is, as far as frat houses go, not the absolute worst. It had still been kind of a shock when Bucky realized Clint actually lives up to his frat bro vibes. Not only lives up to them but embraces them with the same enthusiasm Clint has for any other thing he cares about. Bucky could probably do PR for the Beta charity drives by now after how much Clint has gushed about them. Lord knows he’d do a better job than fucking Pietro.

Bruce answers the door on Bucky’s third knock, looking surprised to see him and vaguely stoned.

“Bucky?” he says after he gets a few blinks out of his system. Bucky wonders if it’s such a good idea to be smoking in his letterman jacket. Coach Fury’s been known to have a nose like a bloodhound. “Clint didn’t say you were coming over.”

“Has he said anything at all in the last twelve hours?” Bucky asks, shouldering past Bruce because he knows he won’t move on his own. Bruce is actually his favorite of Clint’s brothers. He’s chiller than any offensive lineman has a right to be. He does yoga, for fuck's sake. It’s probably the copious amounts of weed that mellow him out in the end, though.

“I dunno,” Bruce says, still blinking his way back to the present. He gives Bucky a slow smile as he shuts the door behind them. “Do you want tea? I made tea.”

“Maybe later,” Bucky says, because he’s just spotted Rumlow studying at the dining table and that’s the one Beta guy he genuinely doesn’t want to see today. He heads for the stairs.

“Wanna play Smash Bros?” Bruce asks as Bucky bolts for the second floor.

“Maybe later,” he shouts over his shoulder.

Clint’s room is at the far end of the hallway, and Bucky frowns at the closed door. Clint’s the kind of endearingly codependent guy that keeps his door open unless absolutely necessary, never wanting to miss out on anything that might be blocked by a thin layer of wood.

He knocks more as a warning than anything, letting himself in and shutting the door softly behind him. All the lights are off and nothing but moonlight illuminates Clint spread dramatically across the floor, staring up at his ceiling fan like he’s hoping it’ll fall on him.

“Fucking Christ,” Bucky mutters, mostly because he’s not sure Clint even heard him come in.

“I’m gonna die,” Clint answers from the floor. “Statistics is actually gonna kill me.”

“You can’t die,” Bucky says, leaning back against the door. “My mom will be crushed if I don’t bring you home for spring break.” The moonlight is making the angles of Clint’s face look especially soft, and Bucky takes a moment to watch him pout before sinking down onto the floor.

“No, it’s too late. I’m dying,” Clint says, shifting to make room on the rug as Bucky crawls over to him. He wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and plants a quick kiss on his forehead before turning his glazed look back up at the ceiling fan. “You’ll come to my funeral, right?”

“Obviously,” Bucky snorts, sliding his hands under Clint’s t-shirt. He knows his fingers are ice cold, but Clint doesn’t even flinch.

“Wear black, okay? Something sexy, so my enemies get jealous of the hot piece of ass I bagged before kicking the bucket.”

“Should I cry?” Clint hasn’t seen Bucky act yet, but he’s totally going to audition for The Laramie Project next semester and blow his fucking mind.

“As much as possible. Maybe mention how much you’ll miss my massive dick.”

“I will,” Bucky says emphatically. He looks up at the ceiling fan and takes a deep breath, doing his best to bring tears to his eyes. “I’ll never love another dick as much as I loved his.” Bucky’s voice comes out impressively choked up. “I’m cursed to a life of longing. The only man who can satisfy me is lost forever.” Bucky blinks a single tear down his cheek, and Clint’s staring at him when he finally turns back.

“Holy shit,” Clint says, moving to wipe at Bucky’s cheeks like he’s actually worried about him. “Do exactly that, please. When did you learn how to cry on command?”

“When my third sister was born,” Bucky answers smugly. “I didn’t appreciate how much more attention tutus and pigtails got, so I had to find my own edge.”

“Becca’s sent me a few pictures that say you still cashed in on tutus and pigtails.” Clint rolls onto his side so he can face Bucky better, pulling him closer with a hand around his waist.

“I rocked those butterfly clips better than she could ever dream,” Bucky says, and Clint buries his laugh in Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky runs a hand up and down Clint’s back. “What day is your Stats final?” That earns him a despondent groan.

“Monday. I’m so gonna fail.” Clint’s voice is muffled by Bucky’s sweatshirt. “Why the fuck did I decide on a Business major?”

“Because you’re smart,” Bucky insists. Clint shakes his head weakly against his shoulder and Bucky smacks him lightly on the arm. “You are. You’re smart and practical, and once you have your diploma you and Nat can move to New York and open your gym.”

Clint mumbles something into his sweatshirt that Bucky doesn’t quite catch.

“What?” he asks, and he tugs the back of Clint’s shirt just enough to get him to scoot backward and speak clearly.

“I said you’ll be there too,” Clint repeats, rubbing his thumb back and forth across Bucky’s side and making an effort to keep his eyes anywhere but on Bucky’s. “Designing costumes on Broadway. Having a meltdown every other day.”

“Exactly,” Bucky says, and Clint looks up long enough to give him a hesitant smile. “And on tech week I’ll gripe to you all night long and make you rub my feet.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Clint says, and his voice is too soft to be joking. Bucky leans forward to kiss him. Clint brings his hand up to Bucky’s face, brushing his thumb over his cheek while they lose themselves for a moment or two.

“It’ll be awesome,” Bucky says once he’s pulled away. “And all you have to do is pass one dumb Stats final. It’s all easy street after that.”

“No it’s not,” Clint says, but his face doesn’t seem quite as pinched with worry. Bucky shrugs one shoulder.

“Maybe not, but this is all you have to think about right now. And even if you don’t pass, which you will, Momma Barnes will be waiting at the train station, ready to fill that void of disappointment with cookies and brisket. They offer Stats over the summer. You can even get Bruce to help you study.”

Clint smiles a little easier and presses a kiss to Bucky’s cheek.

“Bruce offered to help me study earlier this week, actually.” Bucky raises his eyebrows at him.

“And you’re not taking him up on it? Bruce is pretty much Einstein. You know that, right? What are you doing in here when you could be getting schooled on Stats in the library?”

“Well, you’re here,” Clint says and Bucky just knows his smile goes all dopey at that. “And I think even Einstein would struggle with Stats after smoking that much weed.”

“You’ll study with him tomorrow though, right?” Bucky’s not going to let Clint throw him off that easy. Clint rolls his eyes, but he nods. “Steve invited us to get pizza tomorrow. I’ll pay, as a reward for studying.”

“Steve invited us, or Steve invited you?” Clint asks, scrunching up his nose. Bucky snorts, shoving at Clint half-heartedly.

“Steve invited us. To go out with him and his friends. I dunno why you hate him so much. He thinks you’re pretty cool.”

“I don’t hate him,” Clint says defensively, but he still shifts forward to wrap his arms possessively around Bucky. “I just want to make sure he knows that the position of Bucky’s Buff Blond Boyfriend is already happily filled. Also, fuck him. I’m really cool.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Bucky says. He’s kind of stuck in Clint’s steel trap of a hug. “It’s not like that. First of all, I don’t date grad students, and second of all we totally have more of a big brother-little brother sort of thing going on. I think he’s more into Tony, anyway.”

“Aw, gross,” Clint laughs, letting Bucky out of his death grip. “They deserve each other.”

“People probably say the same thing about us,” Bucky says. Clint grins at him, opening his mouth to share some kind of smart-ass response. A knock on the door cuts him off and makes them both jump.

“Do you guys have pants on?” Bruce’s voice comes through the door way louder than necessary. “If you don’t, sorry. Keep doing your thing or whatever. We’re starting a new Smash tournament, though, if you wanna join.”

“No, Bruce. C’mon man,” Bucky hears Sam say, and there’s the sound of scuffling feet like Sam’s trying to yank Bruce back from the door. “They’re probably having their own Smash tournament in there.”

“Bucky would have invited me,” Bruce insists, and Clint sits up with a laugh.

“We have pants on, Bruce,” he calls, and the door opens a moment later.

“Are you guys just sitting in the dark?” Bruce frowns down at Bucky, who’s still sprawled across the rug.

“Yeah,” Clint says, and then because he catches Bucky’s meaningful look, “Are you busy tomorrow? Think you could help me with Stats?”

“Yeah,” Bruce says, smiling easily. Bucky thinks Clint looks relieved, like he actually thought Bruce might say no. “We can go to the library.”

“Alright, Bruce.” Bucky stands up, offering a hand and hauling Clint to his feet too. “Let’s smash. I call the pink controller.”

#my fics #winterhawk #rated: g #college au #wait have I been remembering to rate my fics lately #i didn't even realize i was making a hulk smash pun until the very end #i was just thinking about all the frat houses ive been to where they do nothing but play super smash bros #also clint is definitely the friend that switches off autocorrect despite needing it the most #im sorry if his shitty texting hurts anyone's brain

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ladyreapermc · 5 years

Text

Fic: This isn’t a rom-com 14/17

Author’s notes: we’re getting closer to the end. I’m thinking I’m just gonna post the last three chapters daily so it can end on Monday. Also I wrote two possible finales for this and I still have no clue each one to go for. Make your bets on what’s gonna happen!

Summary: Keanu and Lilah meet at the set of John Wick. Rom-com shenanigans ensues

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

Wordcount: 2385

Warnings: a lot of yearning, a tiny bit of angst, but nothing too serious.

As Keanu stepped into the airplane that would take him to Tokyo, his chest felt tight and heavy and his head was a jumble of confused thoughts. He knew he wouldn’t get a wink of sleep the entire flight. Not that he ever managed to sleep in red eyes anyway, but in any other situation he would at least be able to distract himself with the book he brought along or with inflight movies. Tonight, Keanu knew the only thing he would manage to do was think about Lilah and the fight they had.

This was the one thing he did not miss about relationships, about letting people that close to him. The ability they gained to hurt him. Not that Keanu didn’t do his fair share of hurting. He was quite aware he had been very petty bringing Pierce into the entire mess, but Keanu just couldn’t help himself. He lashed out when he was scared and when she mentioned Oxford, terror and dread overtook him.

They had known each other for about two months. Had been dating, really dating, for not even a month properly, but the thought of losing Lilah was terrifying. Right now, just knowing that he would be away from her for a few days, especially with all the uncertainty that hung over them, made Keanu feel like he left a piece of himself behind in New York. No matter what he did, he couldn’t shake that feeling.

He let out a heavy sigh, making the person sitting next to him look over. He just flashed a quick smile of apology and went back to stare out of the window of the plane. Keanu still couldn’t believe he was this hopeless in love with her after such a short time.

Sure, he realized his feelings had been running deeper than just infatuation that first night they argued about her father, but he didn’t really realize he was in it this deep. Not until tonight.

Keanu should have been more careful. He should have been smarter than this. He had been here before. He had given his whole heart and it had been wrenched out of his chest, smashed and torn, leaving him reeling and barely able to function.

When he picked himself up from that mess, Keanu promised he wouldn’t allow himself to fall like that again. He had been mostly successful at it; keeping his shields up and people would eventually turn away. There was always affection and care for whoever Keanu decided to date, but he never let it progress into something else. He had that pattern fine-tuned down to an art in the last decade. Sometimes it felt as natural as breathing.

He still couldn’t quite understand how Lilah managed to break through that. It took Keanu by surprise, but not really. He saw the warning signs and had every opportunity to turn away, but he didn’t. Because Lilah had been such a breath of fresh air with her honesty and openness and earnestness. With the way that she never asked of him more than he was willing or ready to give. How she accepted him and liked him for what he was, not what she wanted him to be or something she made up in her head. Not many people did that, and Keanu found himself letting his walls down just enough for Lilah to sneak under the wire and lodged herself so deep it suddenly felt like she had always been there and he was just discovering it like a buried treasure.

And now Keanu was scared shitless because he didn’t want to lose her, but he didn’t know what to do either. Because part of him wanted to be with her no matter the cost. That hopeless dreamer that he thought he had lost so long ago didn’t care about the damn age gap or what the rest of the world would think of it. Keanu would move to New York or England or wherever the hell she wanted, if that’s what it took. Because he needed Lilah in his life.

The saner part of him, the one who had loved and lost knew it wasn’t healthy, not for himself and not for Lilah. This part of him knew that he couldn’t interfere with this choice in any way, at least not any more than he already did by offering to pay tuition and helping her through it. Keanu shouldn’t even have done that. He had hadn’t been aware of the weight her father’s wishes had on Lilah’s decision. The second he pushed her Keanu wasn’t being any better than her father was. And that was the last thing he wanted.

At the same time, the thought of Lilah giving up something that was obviously her dream broke his heart and every fiber of his being was screaming him to fix it; to make it better. Because he loved her, and it killed him to see her hurting like this. But Keanu knew that wasn’t what Lilah needed. She didn’t need a hero. Someone to fix things for her. She needed someone to be there for her, no matter what. So that was what Keanu was going to be. The supporting partner she needed, even if the uncertainty of her choice was almost driving him crazy.

With a new sigh, Keanu picked up his book from his jacket pocket, snorting at the cover. He had left home in such a hurry that he forgot the book he had separated to take with him so he stopped by at the airport bookstore to pick something else. The second he laid his eyes on this, he knew he needed to take it. It was Keanu's way to stay close to Lilah even miles apart.

He settled a little more comfortably on his seat and started reading The Shining. Keanu went through almost half before his eyes demanded a break and he put it aside again, smiling because he could almost hear her at every page; her thoughts on this or that scene. She had gone into a lengthy discussion on this book and Stephen King’s work in general, as well as her love for horror books and movies. He had never really thought about it as she did, as an exploration of the human psyche. It was an interesting take.

When he finally landed in Tokyo, Keanu fought the urge to call Lilah, check how she was doing. This was the moment to give her space, let her come up with her answer on her own. Instead, he decided for a text to let her know he arrived safely. He did the same for the rest of his family as he headed to his hotel.

Keanu was exhausted, physically and emotionally and as soon as he got to his room he pretty much passed out. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept for eight hours straight in the past few months, but he woke up to the sound of his phone, his publicist name flashing on the screen. It was time to get ready for the first round of photocall and interviews.

The thing Keanu hated the most about doing press for a movie premiere was that there were always so many things happening at once. He would come out of something and head straight into another with barely enough time to eat or have a smoke or check his phone. And that was how most of his days in Tokyo went in the time he had there. He only managed one afternoon free and he used it to buy some gifts for his friends and family.

Despite all, Keanu really enjoyed the trip. He had always been much fonder of Eastern culture and philosophy than Western. It was also quite nice to meet his fellow cast members for 47 Ronin again. As well as the director. Debuting the film in Japan, considering it was a tale of Japanese culture just felt fitting. The right kind of homage.

But as he headed to the airport at the end of his fourth day, Keanu was anxious to get back since he couldn’t get his head out of New York. Part of it was his worry about how much he was hindering John Wick’s production by being away. Even if it was just for a week. Chad and Dave assured him that they had come up with a plan, so they wouldn’t get too behind schedule and both of them understood that this was the sort of commitment that Keanu couldn’t say no, but he was still worried.

Keanu also couldn’t wait to get back to Lilah, see how she was and if she made up her mind about anything yet. Since they were in such different time zones and his schedule had been so full, they hadn’t managed to speak directly to each other. Only a few text messages throughout the day and he hated it. Apparently, he had grown used to their daily phone calls.

He settled in one of the seats in the airport lounge, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as he heaved a long sigh as he waited for his flight to start boarding. Keanu was exhausted. All he wanted was to sleep. Fortunately, his publicist managed to book him a better flight this time, but he was probably gonna get to New York in the middle of the night. He was almost drifting off when he got a call from Karina. Doing a quick calculation on his head, Keanu winced at how early she must be up to be calling him.

“How come I had to hear from Kim that you’re dating someone?” she asked as soon as he picked up and Keanu rolled her eyes fondly at his baby sister.

“Well, hello to you too dear sister. How are you doing? I’m good, thanks for asking.”

“Oh, screw that!” she said with a huff. “Just give me the details because all Kim told me was that you met her at the set, was head over heels and being an idiot about telling how you felt.”

Keanu chuckled, pushing his hair away from his face. He really needed to call home more often. They were both a little out of the loop.

“I can’t talk much,” he said with a quick glance around. Everyone seemed to be minding their own businesses, but Keanu knew that didn’t mean anything. “So yes or no questions.”

“Fine,” Karina huffed. “She’s an aspiring actress?”

“No.”

“Good. She’s probably not dating you to advance her own career,” she said, and Keanu let out a long sigh, his argument with Lilah coming to mind.

“Definitely not that.”

They went back and forth with a few questions, Keanu chuckling slightly at Karina’s growing frustration, but he wasn’t crazy to talk about his personal business in a crowded airport. Even if he was in a private area.

“I wanna see her,” Karina said, and he winced. Keanu should’ve known that was coming. “Come on. Pictures. I know you have them”.

With a sigh, he pulled his phone away from his ear to browse his gallery, trying to pick one picture of Lilah to send Karina. Keanu smiled to himself because he noticed he had quite a few. She was fond of sending random selfies, which he really appreciated.

He picked the one they took on the mirror, maybe his favorite picture of them so far and sent it to Karina.

“She’s beautiful,” Karina said after a moment’s pause. Keanu smiled and just hummed in agreement. “Way out of your league.”

“If you’re gonna be an ass I’m gonna hang up,” he threatened with a snort.

“No, no!” she said chuckling. “I liked her Matrix shirt.”

“Me too,” he admitted with a smile. Keanu had really loved to see her with that shirt. Almost as much as he liked seeing her in one of his.

“Oh, man! You’re so in love!” she teased, and Keanu could feel himself blushing. He lowered his head, letting his hair block his face from view. “I can hear it in your voice. I can see in your face in that picture.”

“Yes,” Keanu breathed out. There was no point in pretending otherwise. His family knew him too well anyway.

“She makes you happy?”

“Very,” he said with a smile and he could hear his sister smiling on the other side too, as well as his phone beeping to signal low battery.

“Good. That’s all we all care about. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Keanu said, noticing his flight was about to board. “I gotta go. Talk to you when I get home.”

The flight back went a little better. Keanu actually managed to nap a little, but every inch of him felt stiff and ached when he finally landed in New York. His phone had died mid-flight and since he didn’t really want to give the entire airport a view of his dirty laundry by digging through his carry-on for his charger, Keanu hailed a cab instead of calling the car service he usually used.

The driver was a nice guy who recognized him immediately and asked for an autograph, which he didn’t have the heart to refuse. When the man asked for his destination, Keanu hesitated, checking the time before letting his impulsive side win over. He gave the driver Lilah’s address. It was late and he should be heading home, but he spent five days without seeing her. Keanu needed this.

Jean looked really surprised when she opened the door to see Keanu standing there and he gave her a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry about the hour. Is Lilah…”

“You didn’t get her voicemail, did you?” she asked, her expression shifting into a grimace and Keanu’s heart stopped in panic.

“My phone died. What happened? Where’s Lilah?”

“Her brother was in a car accident,” Jean explained. “She left for Miami earlier tonight.”

A lot of feelings went through Keanu at once: relief that nothing happened to Lilah herself, worry for how she must be. From what all her stories, she was really close to her brother, but the thing that was stronger was the need to get to her. Make sure she was ok.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

x(tbc)x

Go to part 15

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