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ohmybueckers · 1 month ago

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Never Strangers: Chapter Two

Warnings: internalized homophobia, binge drinking, appearance of player!paige (As stated previously this is NOT a reflection of how I believe Paige acts in real life), infidelity, angst y’all i’m sorry

Word Count: 9.5k (i need help)

Authors Note: This is coming out a lil later than I intended … lets just say it was intentional to celebrate Paige’s return and not because I was traveling all day yesterday (literally proofreading this in the airport rn lol). This chapter is told entirely in flashbacks to explain why Maya is crashing out so many years later because oh boy… this one is rough for Paige I’m not gonna lie.

also!! I don’t have a tag list for this fic but if there is enough interest I can consider it!!

December 2019

It had been a full month since that night in the parking lot, and overall not much had changed. They still did all the same activities they always did: drives around town, homework together in their bedrooms, going to the recreation center so Paige could practice her three point shot while Maya studied for this years case. The only difference is that these hangouts would usually end the same way: Paige’s lips on Maya, fingers in brown tresses while Maya trailed hands down Paige’s toned back. They waited until they were in somewhere remotely private, of course (although Maya didn’t know if a car counted as private).

It always stopped at making out though, usually when both of them were too breathless to talk. Not that Maya necessarily needed more physically - she wasn’t even sure what being ready for that felt like - but she still felt an ache after each time the door shut, either after Paige left her place or when she reentered her home after being dropped off by the blonde. She would be perfectly happy just kissing Paige for the rest of her life if she could just get some answers on what was going on.

She finally got the courage one Wednesday night. Paige was sprawled on her bedroom floor, hardwood made more comfortable by a multicolor rug. Maya laid beside her, close enough to smell the notes of aloe in her hair from her post practice shower. Shutting her AP Chem book (she had an A in the class anyway, being unprepared for one quiz couldn’t hurt that bad), she spoke. “So, what are we doing?”

Paige’s head rose from Catcher in the Rye as if Maya’s voice had startled her, cocking her head a bit. “Hmm?”

Maya exhaled, sitting up from her current position so she had her knees pressed to her chest. Paige followed suit, still lying down but lifting her upper body with her forearms (Maya would be lying if her heart didn’t stop a bit at the sight). “I mean, you’re my best friend. We spend a ton of time together… we do other stuff.” Maya let out a hushed giggle, a sheepish smile spreading on Paige’s face which flushed at the comment. “I don’t do this with my other friends.”

“Not even Maddie from mock trial?” Paige joked, her eyebrows raised. Paige had met Maddie just the past weekend, after Maya brought her to Paige’s game against a school in Saint Paul. In their five minute post-game interaction, Paige had clocked Maddie as one of the straightest girls she had ever met: full Lululemon and Kendra Scott outfit, bleach blonde hair, and a J initial necklace for her baseball player boyfriend.

“Paige, I’m trying to be serious right now!” Maya exclaimed, her hands reaching her head to hide the smile that was emerging. This was the issue - Paige made it too easy for Maya to relax. So relaxed she almost missed the way her face fell slightly, her teeth meeting her bottom lip.

“No one else knows I’m … gay.” The last word came out as a whisper, perhaps out of fear that someone was right outside of Maya’s door even though Maya’s dad and his girlfriend had been out for hours. “I think they all kinda wonder and I know they’d be cool with it, but ion know if I’m ready to say it yet. I want people to know me as Paige the basketball player, not just for being gay. I got so much I want to accomplish.”

Maya nodded along, her mind running fast to try and digest what Paige was saying. She’s a fixer at heart, always trying to find a way to make people’s problems go away. This just didn’t seem like a situation she could fix. At the end of the day she was talking to Paige Bueckers. The aspect of having that big of a spotlight on you at all times is something she would probably never be able to fully understand.

“Is that okay?” Paige asked, mistaking Maya’s silence for something worse. Maya quickly nodded.

“Yeah, I'm just thinking,” she responded, thinking about her own identity and how it affected how she was approaching the situation. “I don’t know what I am yet. I don’t think I have to know to know that I like you.”

“I like you too.” Paige responded, the blush on her pale cheeks now a lot more prominent.

“Well I’d hope so, since we’ve made out like 50 times.” It was now Maya’s turn to joke, earning an eye roll and a gentle shove from Paige, although it was clear from the adoration in her eyes that her annoyance was nothing more than playful teasing. “So what now?”

“I think we should wait before we call each other girlfriends or anything,” Paige spoke carefully, grabbing Maya’s hand. “But that doesn’t mean I want to stop this. I want this.”

The way Paige was looking at her and feeling how her thumb was drawing circles on the back of her hand made her believe every word she said. There was just one question that was burning in the back of her mind, one she needed an answer to before she could agree. “Are you doing this with anyone else?”

The shake in Paige’s head was immediate, her stare determined. “No. absolutely not, I can’t even think of doing this with anyone that isn’t you. What if… what if we just do what couples do, but we just hold off on the whole labels and public part of it.”

“Like a secret?” Maya’s voice was hardly above a whisper, as though she was already practicing. Paige’s head dipped.

“Well, that makes it sound bad.” She muttered, her voice almost shameful. “I just think it’s best if it’s just for us.”

Maya took a beat, almost deep in thought. Then a hand that wasn’t occupied by Paige’s grip reached out, a finger lifting Paige’s head back up. The smile that was once on Paige’s face returned upon seeing Maya’s expression, a kind smile on as the brunette leaned in so her lips were next to the older girl’s ear. “Lucky for you, I’m good with secrets.”

⎯⎯

January 2020

“Don’t open your eyes yet.” Maya heard Paige remind her as the two of them trudged through the Minnesota snow, which had turned to a bunch of gross white slush. Maya really hoped Paige knew how to navigate after living here her whole life, because she had learned quickly how prone she was to slipping on the icy pavement and her shoe choices were not known for their traction.

“Well, you’re covering them, so I don’t think that really matters.” Maya responded, her hands shoved into the pockets of her tan trench coat for warmth. Finally, they came to a stop. Maya heard a car door open, followed by Paige’s glove covered hands being lifted from her eyes. And she gasped.

When Paige told her she was taking her on their first official date, she wasn’t sure exactly to expect. She was more than happy doing their usual casual hangout, but Paige was insistent she was going to do something big. And that she did, just two weeks after Christmas and three weeks after their conversation defining what they were.

Paige had somehow turned the back of her car into a full picnic spread, filled with both of their fast food favorites (including Culver’s cheese curds, a food that had become weirdly sentimental to them) as well as a couple of containers filled with her favorite fruits, all placed on top of a red and white checkered blanket.

Paige scratched the back of her neck, her face flushed (whether it was from being flustered or from the bitter Minnesota cold was a mystery).“I know it’s not like… super fancy or anything. I was gonna do an actual picnic and then I realized we live in Minnesota and it’s fucking cold and…”

Maya wrapped an arm around Paige’s torso, pulling her in for a hug and shutting her up from her fit of rambling.“Paige, it’s perfect.”

Paige melted into the hug, towering over her and yet still seeming uncharacteristically vulnerable in this moment. The two of them crawled into the car, Paige reaching in the front seat carefully as to not bump her head. “I also have these for you.”

Maya would have been perfectly happy with the current setup, but Paige was never one to settle for just good. Because here she sat, a bouquet of tulips in hand with Trader Joes plastic wrap still around them. “You told me these were your favorite once.”

Maya nodded, her smile so big she feared her cheeks would hurt later. She figured the idea of getting flowers from a romantic partner was something made up by Hallmark to sell their movies, having never seen her dad or any of her friends partners give their girls flowers. Clearly it was different when the person you’re seeing is another girl. “I love them.” Maya confirms, offering a peck to her pale cheek. “Never knew you were such a romantic.”

Maya leaned in to properly kiss the blonde while pulling the door shut. She had enough of the winter cold, much preferring to be warmed up by her girl. “You’re not worried about what my dad will say if I come home with flowers?”

“Just hide them in your tote bag before you get to your room.” Paige shrugged, gesturing to the bag Maya brought with: a souvenir from a bookstore in New York years ago. “You know, once we both open about us, Imma get you all the flowers in the world.”

“Oh really?” Maya inquired, already liking the sound of that. “Does that mean I’ll also be able to kiss you in public instead of the back of your car?”

Paige fakes a pout, gesturing to the very minimal space between their bodies before cupping the younger girl’s face. “Are you saying you don’t want this?”

Maya scoffs. “I never said that,” she says in a whisper, evoking a small hum of approval from the blonde as she pulls her in by her shirt to kiss her.

Maya is pretty sure at this point that she loves Paige, but she knew better than to say it. She could worry about that later. For now she was content lying in the backseat with Paige, unbothered by how cramped this setup actually was in reality. She found when it was just the two of them, nothing else seemed to matter that much.

⎯⎯

“You’ve found yours already?”

The two girls sat side by side on Paige’s bed, one arm of Paige’s around the smaller girl’s shoulders and the other scrolling her own laptop. They were engaging in one of Paige’s least favorite activities: shopping. Correction: she liked shopping typically. She hated dress shopping.

Perhaps one of the better parts of switching cities, and therefore switching schools, is that Maya now went to a school that allowed both juniors and seniors to go to prom. Though Maya typically leaned towards a more simple style, gravitating towards simple jeans and sweaters, she always looked forward to the opportunity to dress up in a full fancy gown. And here was her dress: a deep plum shade, fitted at the top and flowy at the bottom, with just enough tulle to feel like a prom dress without going overboard. “I think it’s pretty! I like the purple.”

“Mmmm, me too. You’ll look so good in that.” Paige hummed in agreement, leaning in to peck her not-quite-girlfriend’s cheek. “I’m just not really drawn to any of these.” She gestured to her own screen, which featured various dresses from Windsor.

Maya laughed while resisting the urge to remind Paige that she has looked wildly uncomfortable in every situation she’s been made to wear a dress and that there were alternatives. Perhaps these thoughts were just clouded by Maya’s undeniable urge to see Paige in a suit.

“It’s not until May. You’ve got time.” Maya decided to drop the topic altogether. They both heard the rushing of water in the pipes in the house, likely from Paige’s dad and stepmom getting ready for bed in the bathroom downstairs. Suddenly remembering that accidentally falling asleep in contacts would not be a smart idea, Maya wove herself out from under Paige’s grasp and walked to where her overnight bag sat on Paige’s cluttered desk. “I still cannot believe your dad let me sleep over the night before your game.”

Paige shrugged “Game’s not til one, I got time. Besides, I told him you’re my good luck charm.” The last comment prompted a sharp turn of the head from Maya, her eyes wide and eyebrows raised. “What?”

“Paige, I love you, but that’s the gayest shit I think you could have said to him.” Maya giggles, mindful enough to keep her voice low. It doesn’t take a super mindful person to see how Paige stopped at this statement, staring at the other girl with wide eyes. Confused, Maya tries to recount what she could have done to spark this reaction. All I said was…

“Oh. Um…”

The room was quiet enough that both girls could hear each others breath clear as day. Hell, Maya was pretty sure if it were summer she would be able to hear the cicadas from outside all the way from here. This wasn’t how she pictured saying it: her fantasies usually saw her and Paige dating for at least two months before they said. Even if she felt it now. Even if she’s pretty sure she’s felt this even before they kissed for the first time.

“Say it again.”

Her voice broke through the silence, powerful enough to lift Maya’s head from where it had dipped. Paige was sat up, her arms pushing her to a standing position. “Say what again?” Maya asked, her voice wavering as she watched Paige step closer with an unreadable expression.

“The first part.” Another step closer.

“Paige, lets just drop it.” Maya begged, feeling her eyes begin to water a bit with embarrassment. Naturally this whole thing had to come to an end at some point - she wasn’t lovesick enough to believe that a high school fling would last forever. She just wished it wouldn’t be this soon, all because of a slip of tongue.

“Please.” Paige’s voice was hushed, yet firm as she planted herself right in front of the other girl, her height towering over. The lack of space made Maya feel short of breath - being near Paige had that effect on her. Especially when she looked at her the way she was now, as if she was hungry for every word she spoke.

“I love you.” It comes out more as a question, even though it was one of the things Maya was most sure of in that moment. She watched Paige’s expression, which did not seem nearly as scared as she had been envisioning. “I didn’t even know I was saying it, you don’t have to say it back-”

The end of the sentence was soon lost to a fierce kiss, Paige grabbing both sides of her face as if she could slip away at any moment, yet still gentle as though Maya was the most precious thing on this earth. Through her shock, Maya’s reflexes acted quick enough to place a hand on Paige’s chest, positioning herself on the tips of her toes to give Paige easier access. Paige broke the kiss, still close enough that Maya could feel every breath as the other girl put their foreheads together.

“I love you.” Paige said softly, a shy smile on her lips. Her thumb moved to wipe the one tear that had escaped Maya’s eyes away, before kissing where it once was. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” she repeated, kissing a new area of her face after each affirmation before returning back to her lips.

⎯⎯

February 2020

Maya had been given the opportunity to watch Paige play basketball numerous times before, but there was something especially special about watching her play at her school. Perhaps it made her a traitor, but she loved cheering her girl on with the Bueckers family from the bleachers, watching the student section chant about how “overrated” she is (as if the game was even close).

Hopkins secured a near 30 point win, an event well worthy of celebration. Maya stood back as Paige made her way out of the locker room, allowing her to greet and hug them before turning to her. Paige after a good game was one of Maya’s favorite versions of her; there was something about the tired yet confident grin on her face as she made strides towards her, wrapping her in a big hug.

“Great job P,” Maya’s compliment was muffled by her position against Paige’s chest. They pulled away, very aware of the blonde’s family nearby, but Paige’s smile was unmistakably smitten. Thankfully, her dad and stepmom seemed to be fairly oblivious, and if they weren’t they didn’t show it.

“Paige, that last assist was incredible.” A voice appeared from behind them, followed by the strong scent of vanilla perfume mixed with Old Spice deodorant. A body weaved themselves between the two girls, and Maya immediately knew who it was: Paige’s teammate Jaz.

Jaz was beautiful, she couldn’t deny it. Long, impossibly silky black hair was put up in a ponytail that looked messy enough to appear effortless, but not sloppy. Her Hopkins jersey had been replaced by baggy gray sweats and a red tank that paired well with her warm skin. She would probably appreciate this beauty a lot more if it wasn’t incredibly obvious that Jaz was obsessed with Paige, her efforts to flirt obvious to everyone except the subject of Jaz’s adoration.

“Thank you Jaz. You did a great job too,” Paige grinned back, her compliment as general as possible. Though Jaz was definitely not a bad player typically, her shot was most certainly off in this game (not that Maya was paying attention to that or anything). Still, the other girl beamed.

“Are you going with the team to Chik-fil-a?” She asked, her hand grazing Paige’s back. “I got my car with me, I can give you a ride if you need?”

Good God, she couldn’t be more obvious if she tried, Maya thought as she watched Paige shake her head and stepped slightly to the side, away from her touch.“I think I’m going with my family and Maya out to dinner,” At the mention of her name, Paige gestured towards the shorter girl prompting Jaz to turn around. “Jaz, this is my friend Maya.”

That was maybe the first time Maya had been remotely bothered by being referred to as Paige’s friend, even if that’s technically what they still were. It felt like fuel for Jaz, as if Paige was free to be hit on.

Jaz looked at Maya as if she had just appeared and hadn’t been standing here this entire time. One perfectly shaped eyebrow quirked up, her hand reaching out to touch Maya’s shoulder. “It’s so nice to meet you! You are stunning! Paige, why did you never tell me your friend was so pretty!”

Maya smiled at the compliment, although something in her tone felt like it wasn’t entirely genuine. Maya convinced herself that she was just being bitter, swallowing her ill feelings and mustering a perky, “Thank you, you played great.”

Jaz gave a closed lipped smile in return before returning to Paige. “Well I gotta go, but I’ll see you in practice tomorrow right?”

It was only when the two of them began their dark and cold walk to the senior parking lot that Maya brought it up. “She was totally flirting with you.” The brunette stated, her tone matter-of-fact and somewhat teasing.

“What, Jaz?” Paige appeared shocked, an emotion that Maya found incredibly hard to believe considering the performance the girl just put on. “Nah, ion think so.”

“That was incredible, Paige. You’re so great.” Maya gushed in an airy voice. Sure, it sounded nothing like Jaz, but it was fun. “It’s fine, I just think it’s funny.”

Paige smirked, cocking her head slightly. “Really? You sound a little jealous.”

“Me? No way.” Maya said. She never considered herself the jealous type - she still wouldn’t, despite the small twinge of annoyance seeing Jaz constantly hit on Paige. It’s not like it was the other girl’s fault - Paige appears to be completely available. “Hey, I would do the same thing if I were her.”

“You did.” Paige reminded, scanning the parking lot quickly to ensure it had cleared out as much as she believed before wrapping an arm around the other girl and leaning close enough for only the two of them to hear. “And for the record, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. I’m kinda crazy about you, sweet girl.”

Maya felt her face get hot. Deep down, she knew that Paige was hers. She was not the jealous type.

At least that’s what she told herself over and over on the way to the car and to the restaurant.

⎯⎯

Post game meals with Paige were always celebratory - Hopkins did have an undefeated season after all. While Paige didn’t celebrate with her family and Maya after every game, she did often enough for Maya to expect the blonde to be in good spirits. Until one game in mid February.

“Coach tore into me about missing some rebounds.” Paige grumbled, her posture slouched in the Chipotle booth as she picked at her burrito bowl. “Went on and on about how that won’t go too well for me at UConn.”

Maybe it’s because Maya didn’t fully understand basketball, but this was absurd to her. I mean, Hopkins still won - the game was just a little closer than any of them would have liked. However, she knew she would never completely understand. She knew all there was to say was “I’m sorry.”

“No, she’s right,” Paige muttered, eyes not meeting Maya’s kind ones.

“It was one rough game, P. You still won. You just gotta do what you’ve always done - learn from your mistakes and grow,” her dad chimed in from his spot next to Maya. Drew, Paige’s little brother, was seemingly too interested in his quesadilla to care about this discussion.

“I just gotta be better.” Paige shook her head, her eyes fueled with intensity.

“You’ve always bounced back, P. You got this.” Maya encouraged, hoping that Paige had reached a point of acceptance with the day’s events.

Little did she know what would follow.

March 2020

It only took two days after that game for Paige to begin forgetting texts. Maya didn’t think too much of it at first, chalking it up to her basketball practices ramping up as the team prepared for the State Tournament. A slightly longer response time was no issue worth sweating over.

But then Paige stopped reaching out how she usually did. She no longer asked Maya to run stupid errands with her, even if that was the only time she had in a days stretch to see her. And every time Maya would ask if she could watch Paige shoot, or if they could do homework together, it was met with some form of an excuse.

“Yeah, I’ve just been a little busier lately, that’s all.”

Maya sighed as Paige gave an excuse over their phone call that she had heard too many times at this point. A month ago, she could have never pictured Paige declining plans with her without offering an alternate time. Now, Maya felt like a pathetic fangirl with the way she always had to reach out to Paige, trying to find cracks in her schedule. Sure, she knew that Paige had a state championship to prepare for, but basketball had never completely stopped the two of them from seeing each other before. It had been nearly two weeks since she had seen even a glimpse of the blonde, and she felt like she was going crazy trying to decide if she was just being overly clingy or if her suspicions were correct.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” Maya asked, searching desperately for any semblance of reassurance. She heard Paige sigh through the phone, a sound that tightened the knot that had been woven in her stomach for days now.

“Nothing is wrong.” Paige replied, her tone not entirely convincing, before adding, “How about I take you to the movies on Sunday night?”

Ok, now we’re getting somewhere, Maya thought. “Ok yeah, I’d like that. Pick me up at 5?”

“Of course.” Maya swore she could hear a small smile. “I gotta go, but I’ll text you.”

The call dropped, Maya staring at the lock screen on her phone: A collage of recent photos: some included friends from home, some included family (including one photo of her and her parents together that she could never bring herself to delete). Many of them included Paige, a collection of candid shots of the basketball star as well as photos Bob Bueckers had taken post games. She stared at the way Paige leaned towards her, their bodies fitting together like a puzzle piece, a small sign to them that they belonged to each other even if nobody else knew it. A small rush of comfort flooded her system as she was reminded that this Paige, the one in the photos, would never dream of hurting her.

⎯⎯

Maya stood on the sidewalk for five minutes before the text came.

Paige: sum teammates wanted to run some drills tonight to prep for this weeks game. i gotta miss tonight. so sorry.

Maya wanted nothing more than to throw her phone on the freezing cold asphalt and scream. In her eye she had every right to, because come on. She trusted the other girl wouldn’t dare to cancel plans like this, especially ten minutes after they were supposed to begin in the first place.

But Maya felt as though there was no point in cursing the blonde out. It was basketball, after all. Loving Paige Bueckers was knowing that her love of basketball would often, if not always, have to come first. Maya was fine with it. She had to be. At least according to the “No worries! Have a good practice!” text she sent back. Though she tried her best to come off cool and collected to the blonde, inside she felt as though there was something behind the scenes, and that she was being made the fool.

⎯⎯

She finally saw Paige again on Thursday night, the basketball player coming over to do some homework together. As Maya’s dad and his girlfriend were out of the house, this then evolved to them sitting in the living room, a news story about the coronavirus spreading across the United States on in the background. Paige paid it no mind, finding comfort in TikTok instead of the girl right next to her on the couch. Though the blonde offered her a couple of chaste kisses, she had still seemed distant. It was killing Maya.

“Can’t listen to that anymore.” Maya sighs, shutting off the TV altogether after a newscaster predicts that the incoming “two week quarantine” would not end that quickly. Paige doesn’t move, still staring at her phone. Maya observed her, wishing the small gap between them didn’t seem so massive in that moment. “I heard that Ella is throwing a party tomorrow night. Some sort of weird, lets see each other one more time before covid destroys our lives party. Are you going?”

Truthfully, Maya hated big high school parties, feeling as though they never matched up to expectations. Besides, they now remind her of the weeks following her parents separation, where she would go out and get blackout drunk with her friends around Boston. These were times she wished to forget.

However, she knew that Paige enjoyed them when they fit around her basketball obligations. So when Ella, a girl at Maya’s school with many connections to Hopkins students, announced she was hosting Maya jumped at the opportunity to mention it to the other girl. Surely she wouldn’t turn it down, not after the state championship got cancelled.

“I think I’m missing it.” Paige looked up, her eyes seemingly too engrossed in the art on Maya’s wall (the same art they’ve had up since they moved in almost a year ago) to make eye contact with the other girl. “Dad’s too worried about me going out with everything going on and basketball on the line, so…”

Maya nods, although her heart twinges a little bit with an emotion she struggles to identify. Logically, this explanation made sense. However, with the events of the past month, Maya was just so tired of even trying to change Paige’s mind at this point. “Makes sense.” She muttered, the two of them going back to their respective tasks. They were together physically, but Maya had never felt so far apart from her.

⎯⎯

Bodies filled the basement of Ella’s basement slowly but surely, the overhead lights allowing purple LED lights to take it’s place illuminating the room. Maya stood close to the bar area, sipping slowly on a mango white claw. Judging by the way she winced after each sip, this was not her typical drink of choice. However, Maddie had insisted she stop taking shots of cheap liquor after throwing back three within 10 minutes less than thirty minutes ago. “I love you Maya, but I do not want to have to drag your ass back home if you black out,” Maddie said sternly as she handed her the white claw.

Now, as Maya still had a fourth of her drink left, she was thankful for the interference. Spending the next two weeks stuck in the house already seemed nightmarish enough, she couldn’t imagine how the first day would go with a hangover. At least she was still drinking something - perhaps it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but she felt as though the alcohol was her one relief from the pain Paige was putting her through. Though Maya stood by her dislike of house parties, she was glad to attend this one.

That is until the side door across the room opened once more. Maya tried to listen to the story Maddie was telling her about how her boyfriend’s friends sucked as some song she had definitely heard on Tiktok blared through the speakers, but her other senses disappeared as soon as she saw a ponytail of blonde hair, followed by an all-too-familiar deep voice shouting, “Alright, who’s ready to get fucked up!”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Maya muttered.

It’s actually comical how every time Paige walked in a room every set of eyes seemed to be immediately drawn to hers, including Maya’s. She stood near the door, dressed in a hoodie and jeans and holding a red solo close to her. She laughed along with one of her teammates as one of them cracked a joke, and Maya couldn’t help but grip her White Claw when she realized that Jaz was right next to her, looking at her instead of the person who actually made the joke.

Maddie, confused as to why her friend stopped listening to her story, followed her eyes to the crowd of basketball players. “Paige? Didn’t you say she wasn’t coming.”

Maya’s lips pursed. “She wasn’t. I guess she changed her mind.” She would never in a million years tell Maddie the truth of why she was angry with Paige right now, no matter how bad she wanted to. If it meant not outing Paige, she was fine simmering in her rage alone.

The weight of two sets of eyes seemed to reach the blonde, because she turned towards the bar before either one could look away. Her eyes met Maya’s quickly, her previous drunken smile gone and a flash of something else on her face immediately - perhaps guilt? Maya broke the staring competition first, setting her drink down and reaching for her purse on the counter as she noted Paige walking towards her out of the corner of her eye. Shit.

“I just need a minute.” She hastily called out to Maddie, already making a beeline towards the stairs in search of a quieter place to collect herself. She ignores the calls from the host Ella and her own circle of friends as they tell her to stay downstairs, them shutting up on their own as they watch her pass by not with a look of nausea, but with her face flushed and nose scrunched as she holds back tears with all the strength in her. Finally, she finds a bathroom, pulling the door shut before allowing herself to fall apart.

The first tear drops, hot and heavy on her arm. Her reflection in the mirror looks so helpless, like a deer that has been shot. She hates it, having watched her friends back home go through the same thing and telling herself she would never act like that over someone. But that was before the divorce. That was before the move. That was before Paige.

Wanting to avoid wiping her eyes in fear of smearing her mascara, she leaned her head down over the porcelain white sink, her arms supporting her as she allowed the tears to continue falling one by one. She didn’t understand why Paige would lie about this. If she couldn’t stand being around her at a crowded party with her teammates, it spoke volumes on where they stood when it was just the two of them.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted her train of thought, her head lifting. “I’m fine, Maddie.”

“It’s Paige, open up.”

Maya scoffed hearing the determination in Paige’s voice, as if Maya owed her anything. “So funny how your dad changed his mind so fast.”

“Maya, please.” Paige’s volume raised slightly, just a little more desperate. And as much as Maya wanted to ignore Paige like the blonde had for the past few weeks, a part of her wanted an explanation too much to be petty. She gripped the handle, throwing it open. She was greeted by Paige standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of her black joggers. She took one glance at Maya’s bloodshot eyes, tired of fighting the tears pricking at them, and barged into the way too small bathroom, shutting the door behind them.

“What the fuck, Paige.” Maya spewed, her gaze intense. Of course, this would be the exact moment she began to feel the effects of the shots she had taken earlier in the night. At least there was a toilet right behind her if she needed to throw up, which she thought was a real possibility in that moment, just not from alcohol.

Paige looks away, eyes focusing on the white shower curtain that appeared yellow in the poor bathroom lighting. “I know this looks bad…”

“Looks bad?” Maya laughed, her eyes wide. She knew she looked fucking manic, and she really couldn’t bring herself to care. “You lied to me, Paige. I think you’ve been lying to me for a while. Do you think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been pulling away from me?”

Paige fidgeted with the bottom of her black hoodie. “I just had so much going on with basketball, and other people aren’t making it easy on me. I told you, I wanted to make a name for myself before I came out, and then you told me you loved me.”

The last sentence made the brunettes heart drop, her feigned amused expression replaced by something much darker. “No,” Maya’s voice was hardly above a hoarse whisper, the words replaying in her mind. As if all of this was her fault, just because she had the audacity to fall in love. “You are not turning this on me right now.”

Paige’s hand made a fist as her eyes shut for a moment, appearing to hold back her frustration before making actual eye contact for the first time in their conversation. “Everything just started feeling so serious and I got scared. I’m scared.”

Maya heard the way her voice broke at the last two words, and in any other situation she would have done anything to comfort her. A part of her still wanted to.“You said it back, I said you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.” Paige clarified, though her previous eye contact wavered. “Everything is just a lot right now, and I’m worried I’ll never be able to give you what you need.”

“I’m not asking you to make me your girlfriend right now, Paige.” Maya forced herself to quiet down, afraid that Ella and her friends could be within earshot of the bathroom and not trusting the quality of her walls enough. “I’m asking you to talk to me, to not cancel on me last minute and make up some bullshit excuse.”

“It was not bullshit.” Now it’s Paige’s turn to raise her voice, something she had never done to her before. She threw her hands in the air, and they made their way to the top of her head. “You were the one who’s been weird about us being private, acting like it’s not enough.”

“Because you haven’t been treating us like we’re private, Paige. You’ve been treating us like a secret.”

“You said you were good with secrets.” Paige defended, though unless Maya was just seeing what she wanted to see there was a sliver of guilt that crossed her expression as well.

“Not when I become one!” Maya couldn’t help but get flashbacks to their first conversation about labels - at the time, exclusive friends with benefits seemed like a great idea. Now? Not so much. “I get if you don’t want people to know about us, but lately its like you don’t even want people to know we’re friends.”

“That’s not true!”

“Then why can’t we hang out like we used to?” Paige’s mouth opened, but no noise came out. She had finally made the Paige Bueckers speechless, just not in the way she hoped.

“I still want you, I promise.” Paige answered, the actual question left ignored. It felt like every bit of patience Maya had for Paige had been chipped away by this conversation, and this sentence was the final blow.

“You should act like it then.” Everything in the room, from the glare of the lights to the presence of the girl in front of her, was suddenly too much, and she felt herself fall so her back was supported by the sink, her arms supporting her. “Can you please just give me some space right now?”

“Maya, please can I just…” There were tears beginning to form in Paige’s eyes, tears Maya couldn’t see from where her eyes were trained on the tile beneath them.

“Just go.” Maya’s voice was flat, a low edge to it as she willed the room to stop spinning. From the haze, she heard a sigh, felt a body move past her, and felt the draft as the bathroom door opened and shut immediately after.

It was the longest conversation her and Paige had in over a week, and yet she had never felt like she knew her less.

Her short trip to the bathroom ended up lasting about 10 more minutes after Paige left as she tried to regulate her breathing. She hated herself for how her brain seemed to go back to fixating on the way Paige sounded when she said “I still want you”, even though her actions had made her feel the opposite.

She was tired, and being tired meant being delusional. She needed to go back home and sleep. Or she needed more alcohol. One of the two. After fixing her makeup the best to her ability with only water, she opened the door, greeted with the faint sound of Drake from the basement. However, in her hurry to get out of the bathroom, she found herself going down the wrong end of the hallway, towards the master bedroom which Ella announced earlier was firmly off limits instead of the set of stairs.

She was more than willing to correct her mistake upon realizing until she heard a giggle, followed by a familiar sickly sweet voice say, “Paige, look at me.”

At this point the name Paige was like a magnet to Maya, always drawing her attention no matter what, although her heart dropped at the way it came out of the girl’s mouth. Against her better judgement, she took a step towards the door, which was cracked so it was half open. She had to crane her head to see the full picture, but the second she did she sincerely wished she had just turned around.

Paige and Jaz sat on one side of the bed, backs turned so she could only make out some movements. If Jaz was already beautiful when sweaty and tired after a game, she was absolutely radiant now - her skin glistened under a silver sparkly top, her jeans flattering her tall frame perfectly even when sitting.

Jaz wore her dark hair down, yet Maya could still see how her eyes closed partially in bliss as she leaned in closer and closer to Paige’s face like a prey that just caught her target, brushing a hair that escaped her ponytail out of her face and purring, “I’ve been wanting this for a long time. You know I have.”

Maya felt the whole world stop. She couldn’t think about much, all she knew was she had to go.

Her head pounded as she raced back down the hallway away from the bedroom, no longer attempting to hold back the tears that had been threatening her. She wasn’t quite sure if it was from the alcohol or her crying, but she knew that she needed to get out of that house now.

Scanning the basement through watery eyes, she quickly found Maddie, whose planned angry words about how Maya abandoned her were thrown away as she saw the poor girl. Pulling her by the arm, Maddie weaved her way through (perks of having tall friends), Maya stumbling behind. She could feel the bass of the music course through her body, yet the lyrics fell on deaf ears. All she could focus on were broken promises, promises that clearly should have never been made.

She would forever owe Maddie after this night. She owed her for ordering them an Uber, ushering her in as they escaped the brutality of Minnesota winter and hurt feelings. She especially owed her for not asking questions, simply looking at her with a look of concern, yet understanding. Maddie may be the straightest person she’s ever met, but the girl wasn’t stupid.

On the other hand Maya, despite her GPA and PSAT score to prove the contrary, had never felt more idiotic in her life. She replayed every chapter of her and Paige, trying to discover when and how she had missed the signs that Paige was chasing Jaz while being with her.

Her phone buzzed five times in rapid succession, each one bringing a new pulse to her head. Lowering her brightness, she checked.

Paige: where did you go

Paige: please can we just talk

Paige: i fucked up so bad

Paige: i don’t want this to be the end of us

Paige: i love you so much Maya

She choked back a sob as she read the last message, old photos of her and Paige still staring at her as she read the texts piled on her lockscreen. It felt like they were taunting her, a harsh reminder of what she came so close to having. She wanted to believe Paige when she said she loved her, she really did. But at this point, she had run out of excuses for her. She typed back a simple, Saw you with Jaz.

Paige: what did you see

The Uber stopped outside Maya’s house, giving her time to think of a reply as she thanked the driver and stepped towards her front door, thankful that her dad seemed to be asleep and that she wouldn’t have to answer any questions for now.

It was only after she somehow made her way to her bed, not bothering to take off her clothes for the night (that was a tomorrow problem), that she typed out, Enough to know that I really don’t want to see you, and pressed send.

And for the first time since Maya had met Paige, that statement was true.

⎯⎯

April 2020

Maya found it funny how the usually wholesome streets of the Minneapolis suburbs could feel so eerie. It had been two weeks into quarantine (which now had no end in sight), and the city had quickly fallen into some sort of routine in the chaos - online school during the day, DIY projects and Netflix at night, with some cautious walks sprinkled in. Now it was approaching 6:30pm, the sun preparing to set, and Maya was alone as she approached the tall figure waiting for her at the park.

“I can’t stay long. It took me forever to convince my dad to let me leave in the first place.”

Paige perked at the sound of her, turning around to face the girl. Her hair was lightly tossed by the wind as she took one careful step towards the girl, as if she were a deer and not someone who she used to sing love songs in the car with.

“I just need enough time to explain.” Paige began, staring at Maya for permission to begin speaking. Maya gave this to her in the form of a gentle nod. “I get why you’re upset. I would be upset too. What you saw on Friday … that wasn’t as bad as it looked. Jaz saw me leave the bathroom, and she said I looked upset. So she pulled me into that bedroom and um… she knows about us. I guess we weren’t that subtle.” Paige laughs at the end, though it’s clear to Maya that she finds nothing about what she said funny.

“Okay.” Maya says, “So how did you go from that to that?”

“I told her what I did and um…” Paige inhales, looking up towards the sky for a moment where a bird is soaring above her, “She started saying that maybe I should be with someone who understands the pressure of basketball better.”

Ouch.

“And then she said that she understood me and all this stuff. And then she leaned in, and um, I’m pretty sure that’s what you saw. But I need you to believe me when I say nothing else happened. I couldn’t do it, couldn’t kiss her knowing what I feel for you.”

In Maya’s heart, she knew that Paige had to at least be telling some version of the truth. For the past couple of weeks, her phone had received probably around 15 different texts from the other girl, practically begging Maya to say anything to her, even if it meant getting cussed out again. Maya finally decided that it was more worth it to get some form of closure than to ignore Paige and remain unaware of why she would do this all to her. Paige immediately agreed when she suggested they meet at a park only a few blocks down from Maya’s place, even if it meant Paige had to drive to the confrontation.

Maya’s firm stance against Paige faltered especially after seeing the look in her blue eyes, that wide eyed look as if she was the only thing she cared about seeing. But then she remembered that night, her converse clad feet planted on the hardwood as she watched Jaz lean closer with a determined look, and she remembered how she couldn’t see Paige’s face. For all she knew, Paige had given the same look of adoration to the other girl as well.

“I want to believe you,” Maya’s voice is soft, providing some relief to the tension in Paige’s face. “But I just can’t right now. Not when you lied to me about going to that party in the first place.”

Paige’s head dipped, her voice dripping with guilt as she spoke, “I fucked up, I know, but I swear that wasn’t the reason.”

“Then what was it?” Maya asks, a surprising level of calmness in her voice. Paige failed to respond, her upper lip biting down as her eyes began to water slightly. “I thought that as your best friend, you would care about me enough to tell me if you wanted to stop this.”

“Maya, I never wanted to end this.” Paige interjects, stepping closer.

“I didn’t either. I still don’t.” Maya replies, her volume higher now. She takes a deep breath, taking a moment to shut her eyes to prevent her emotions from overcoming her. “But maybe now I have to.”

The look in Paige’s eyes would come to haunt Maya for years down the line: one of anguish, the sting in her eyes escalating rapidly. “What?” Paige’s voice was hoarse, before escalating in desperation, her hand reaching for the younger girls, “Maya, please don’t do this.”

Maya shoved her hands in her pockets. “You’re going off to UConn next year, and I’ll still be here. and I don’t know if I trust you enough to not do something while you’re there.”

Paige blinked a few times, her expression confused, then angry, appearing not unlike she did when arguing with the referees at her games. “Maya, I didn’t do anything with her. I didn’t do anything wrong. You kinda need to be in a relationship in the first place to cheat.”

The last sentence hit like a blow to the chest, Maya taking a step back as if she had been physically shoved by the venom in Paige’s tone. Any form of reassurance they had given each other, all of the promises that it was just them, came back to taunt in her. Because what was so real to Maya was clearly just fun for Paige. Guilt immediately rushed back through Paige’s expression, her eyes horrified at what she just said, but it was too late.

“Nice to know this was all nothing for you,” Maya’s voice was cool as she nodded sarcastically, beginning to walk backwards in the direction of her house. Her eyes never left Paige, even as the blonde girl continued stepping forward to follow her.

“Maya, I didn’t mean that.”

“But you said it.” Maya’s voice remained calm. Inside she was fuming, but she found that when she spoke she no longer had the same angry energy she did that night at the party. If she’s going to try to make me feel like shit, so will I, Maya decided bitterly. “I found out my dad cheated on my mom that weekend. The day after the party”

Another beat of silence. “What?” Maya scanned Paige’s face, watching her defensiveness mold into horror. Upon further inspection, Maya noted how Paige’s eyes looked especially tired, dark circles forming like clouds underneath them. “Maya, what are you-.”

“I called my mom because I was stressed about this whole COVID thing, was worried about my trip in April being cancelled. I asked her to visit me in Minnesota, and she said she couldn’t, and she wouldn’t tell me why until I begged.” Maya stared off, thinking about the way her mother, who she had never seen cry despite encouraging her daughter to embrace her emotions, had sounded so wounded as she explained why the divorce happened. It left an impossibly bitter taste on her tongue. “My dad started seeing his girlfriend two months before they broke up. She never told me until now to protect him. I don’t know if she ever would have.”

“I’m so sorry, Maya.” Paige’s voice cracked, speaking in a hushed voice as if speaking any louder would shatter the other girl. “Ion know what to say.”

Maya couldn’t help but roll her eyes, because of course she didn’t know what to say. “So I’m sorry if what you did to me is a little fresh right now.”

“Wait.” Paige called as Maya backed up, her regret evident.

“Can you please give me some space, Paige?” Maya is ashamed at how her voice breaks, her effort to remain strong through this conversation now all for nothing. Faking a cough, she muttered, “I think you’ve hurt me enough.”

She began to walk away when she heard her speak again. “I’m going to Maryland next week,” Paige said, her tone matter of fact. “Quarantining with Azzi for a bit.”

Paige had spoken about Azzi Fudd to Maya before, explaining just how similar they were and telling her that “Azzi will love you”, as if it was a given that the two would meet. She’s unsure if Paige would make such a statement at the moment. She knew the two of them were close, but quarantining together? Across the state?

“For how long?” Maya asked.

“It’s going to be at least a couple of weeks, maybe a month? I’m not sure.” A month? It’s not like she particularly wanted to see Paige right now, and there’s no reason Paige would go out of her way to tell her, but still. To hear Paige say it so matter of fact after everything they went through, as if she was the last to know, stung a bit in a way she was not anticipating. “I want to see you before I leave for UConn.”

Paige looked at her as if she wanted to ask if she wanted that too, but was too afraid of the answer. In a way, this reminded Maya of the first night they met; both unsure of how to talk to each other, exchanging stiff words and stares at the dinner table instead. Except now everything had changed.

With a small smile, Maya shrugged, “Anything’s possible.”

The buzz of her phone in her hand took her out of the moment, a reminder from her dad that they agreed on her being home by 7 (as if all COVID germs died after sundown). She shivered, her body numb not by the temperature but the prospect of what she was about to do. She took one last look at Paige; the way her blue UConn long sleeve paired with her blonde hair, her lanky figure that one fit perfectly with her shorter one, and those damn eyes.

“My dad says I need to get back home. Thank you for meeting me here. I, um, I hope you have a safe trip.”

She turned her back quick enough so that Paige couldn’t see the tears beginning to pour, beginning the 10 minute walk back to her home surrounded by the whistle of the wind and the setting sun. Something about it felt so final, like this would be the last time she would see Paige for a long, long while. Maybe ever.

⎯⎯

Paige stayed in Maryland for three months. Maya hadn’t even known she returned to the suburbs until she was already gone, posting stories from her first week at UConn. Not a text. Not a single word. The younger girl decided to mute Paige’s posts and stories at the end of the year, realizing that nothing good could come out of seeing the other girl supposedly live her best life at her dream school while she was stuck at home. Maybe Paige would reach out on breaks, and then Maya could reassess the situation.

She didn’t.

Quarantine was rough on her already, her house in suburbia not nearly as picture perfect as it seemed. She could barely look at her dad, using any excuse to leave dinners early or get out of “family activities” altogether (she refused to acknowledge Jenn as a part of her family). She hated how this curse put on women in her family kept following her. It was in the way she was now quarantined with her fathers affair partner, the same one he had been dropping hints about wanting to marry. It was in the way her mother pleaded with her on the phone to please not let this affect her relationship with her father, though how could it not?

The knife was dug deeper when she passed the prom dress collecting dust in her closet, remembering cheek kisses and hands brushing her shoulder like she was still in Paige’s bed buying it with her. When she began making grocery runs again, she had to make an effort to avoid glancing at the wall of flowers, as doing so would cause her eyes to prick with tears. Hell, she even had to remove multiple songs from her playlists, because of course they had to share the same taste. Songs that she had loved for years were now practically unlistenable.

Everything was a reminder of how she had done everything right, and yet she was somehow still not enough. Maybe she never would be.

#paige bueckers #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers angst #paige bueckers fluff

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lily-fics-11 · 9 months ago

Text

I Can See You: Chapter 1 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

*Not beta read

Ellie Williams is a player, on and off the lacrosse field. You begin tutoring her so that she can get her grades up and stay on the team. You try to keep things professional, however, your affection is a great motivator. Ellie wouldn't be caught dead with you so you become her secret mission.

Chapter 1

You’ve started tutoring Ellie and things don’t go as expected. She’s trying to convince you to kiss her to keep her doing her work. But not to kiss and tell.

Word count: 2.4k

CW: No use of y/n, profanities, *Ellie and reader are both 18*

The first time you kissed Ellie Williams was right in the middle of your 3rd tutoring session during the first week of March.

She is the star of the girl's lacrosse team and they threatened to bench her if she didn’t improve her grades.

Truth be told, Ellie has far greater academic aptitude than you expected. However, she spends most of her time in class flirting with the popular girls and cracking jokes instead of paying attention.

All you really have to do is go over the material and make sure she pays attention. Once she actually got to work, she would fly through everything, but keeping her focused was a far greater challenge than you had anticipated

The first meeting Ellie told you all about lacrosse, and you wouldn’t understand what she was talking about even if you wanted to. “You won’t get to play lacrosse if you don’t get any work done,” you reminded her.

The second meeting you found out that Ellie is secretly a nerd, when she ranted about comic books. You had brought it up and it turns out you like some of the same ones. Ellie couldn't contain herself, but she made you swear not to tell anyone about it.

Meeting three was when Ellie found out how to keep you distracted. She noticed the little pride pin on your backpack and started using her charm on you.

You meet 2 times a class cycle because you were helping her with calculus and English on A days and chem and Spanish on C. You both have the same study hall so they assigned you to her. Can’t take away from the superstar’s practice time after school.

“That rainbow pin on your bag,” Ellie smirks. “Are you…?”

“Rainbow in a women are hot way? Yes, I’ve been out for a while, so I thought everyone knew. I guess it’s only the people who pay attention.”

“I pay attention!” She actually looks offended.

You sigh. “To cheerleaders, in short skirts. And popular girls in expensive clothes. Any girl with a couple thousand followers on Instagram.” Although you suspect that there is more to Ellie than there seems to be, there is no ignoring her taste in women.

“Not very feminist of you, judging those girls, I see that pin too.” She shakes her head in sarcastic disapproval.

“I would never judge anyone for anything like that. I admire anyone who is brave enough to express themselves in the way they want to. I’m judging you. For having such a narrow gaze.” Your smile is so sickeningly sweet it could rot her teeth.

Ellie’s jaw drops, she really thought she had you there. “Come on now, I pay attention to all sorts of girls.”

You cover your face with your hands. “All right then, you’ve spent enough time sitting across from me, what color are my eyes, Ellie?”

“I… uh…” she stutters, at a loss for words.

You uncover your face and comically bulge your eyes.

Ellie raises her eyebrows and nods. “Now that I see them, that is exactly the color I was going to say.”

“Bull shit.”

“Fine,” Ellie rolls her eyes, “ask me another question. If I get it wrong you will get 15 minutes of uninterrupted work from me.”

“What’s my last name?”

“That’s easy… you sit next to Carly in calculus, so your last name must start with R or S.”

You cut her off before she can continue, you'd be here all day. “I’ll stop you right there. We are not in the same calculus class.”

She purses her lips and squints her eyes. “Then why are you tutoring me in calculus?”

“Well, I am in honors, so I’m a year ahead. I got an A in it last year.”

Ellie scratches the back of her head. “That does actually make sense.”

You slide a worksheet over to her. “How about we start that uninterrupted work.”

She doesn’t even look down at the pieces of paper.

“Just one more question? If I get it wrong, I will shut up for the rest of the period.”

She leans forward and gives you a charming smile, which you ignore to the best of your ability.

“I love watching you bet against yourself,” you admit, leaning back in your chair with a smirk.

“I’m not done. If I get it right…” mischief flickers in those enchanting green eyes. “… I get a kiss.”

Her smile would melt most girls' hearts, and you are no exception. You’d be lying if you said you’ve never watched her walk down the hallway before. Ellie swaggers through the crowds, that part for her like the red sea, with a shit eating grin and her chin turned up. She’s drop dead gorgeous, and her gravitational field is strong, all eyes are always on her. The girl practically oozes charisma.

But you know how to play it cool.

“A kiss? Seriously? That’s what you want?” You scoff, though you certainly wouldn't’ mind.

“Yeah.” She says as if it’s obvious.

“Why?” You are very suspicious. “I don’t fit any of your criteria.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Ellie leans over and rests her elbows on the table, folds her hands together. “Now that I’m paying attention, your eyes are really pretty.”

“You’re fucking with me, Williams,” you huff, annoyed by her wasting your time.

She smirks at you. “I’m serious. You’re actually way prettier than half the girls I’ve hooked up with.

“I’m so flattered.” You say sarcastically and start to organize the things spread out on the table.

“I’m being serious!” She says and playfully slams her hands down on the table.

“Only half?” You chuckle.

“I just… I… I guess not.” That makes your eyebrows raise and your nose scrunch in disgust. You run your tongue along the inside of your mouth.

“Actually, more than most.,.” Ellie stutters, her eyes darting around.

You cross your arms over your chest and bite back a smile. “What’s my favorite song?”

“What’s your favorite song?” She echos back.

“Guess it right and you can have a kiss.”

You’ve never seen Ellie concentrate so hard. You can only assume that this is her game day face.

“Its… it’s…” and she guesses… correctly?

You gasp, totally flabbergasted. “How the hell did you know that?”

She looks like she just won jeopardy. “You requested it in gym the other day.”

You blink rapidly in shock. “And you remembered?”

Ellie sits back and crosses her arms confidently. “Believe it or not we have a similar taste in music”

“You’re right. I don’t believe it.”

“Either way, I still won my prize,” she winks at you.

“Prize? Oh, yeah,” you laugh and roll your eyes.

You lean over and give her a quick peck on the lips

She looks disgusted.

If looks could kill Ellie Williams would have been slaughtered right there in the school library.

“Fucking hell, am I really that bad of a kisser?”

She squints her eyes and shakes her head no. “I wouldn’t know, that wasn’t a real kiss.” You run your hand through your hair. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Ellie looks deep into your eyes, like she’s staring right at your soul, and licks her lips. She slowly moves her hand to your face and cups your chin. She tilts your face up and smirks before pulling your lips into hers. Ellie does not hold back.

Though you’ve never kissed each other before, it feels like you’ve kissed a thousand times. You don’t have to find a rhythm; you just fall in sync. Something about the way she tastes is so familiar. Who were you to deny yourself a good kiss with an attractive girl?

Ellie pulls away but leaves her hand on your chin. “That is a kiss.”

You lightly grab her by the wrist and place her hand on the table. “You still owe me 15 minutes of work.”

Ellie fake pouts. “Is that all you have to say to me? Was that not the best kiss of your life?”

Your palm meets your forehead. “You really are full of yourself. It’s time to get this stuff done.”

“All I’ll say is that maybe this could be a method of keeping me motivated.”

“You’re ridiculous!”

She’s got a wide grin on her face; she’s waiting to prove you wrong. “You say that now, but I’m sure you’ll find yourself offering up bigger and bigger prizes, and not just to shut me up. But let’s keep this between us.”

It’s your next meeting and you are supposed to work on her chem homework and edit her English essay.

“How about we work on your essay first?”

She nods and opens her notebook… to an empty page. She looks over at you expectantly and you gesture at it with confusion.

“That doesn’t look like an essay to me,” you sigh.

“I just wasn’t feeling motivated. So, I thought maybe, just maybe, you could kiss me after every paragraph. It would help me write.” Ellie licks her lips and tries to seduce you with her alluring eyes.

“I think it’s best, for the both of us, to keep things professional.”

“Not best for me, it’s a proven method!” She exclaims as if it’s obvious.

“You’d have to run the experiment more than once to prove something.”

“Fine, you can be the x axis and I can be the y axis.”

You fold your hands together. “I’m proud of you for that even if it doesn’t make sense. Do you know how many people have caught feelings for me while I tutor them?”

“First of all, I don’t catch feelings. Second of all, it can't be that many.

“Underestimating is a dangerous game, Williams, a star athlete like you know that. 4 of 7 straight guys, 2 of 2 queer girls and 1 of 4 straight girls.

Ellie brings her hand to her chin and nods in approval. “I have to say, I’m impressed. Game recognizes game. That’s why you don’t have to worry about me catching feelings.”

“We can use that as a last resort. Can we please try and be professional?” You are borderline begging her.

“Ughhhhh,” she groans and pouts her lips, trying to get you to look at them. You can neither confirm nor deny that it worked.

“I don’t care who you are, Ellie, you won’t be getting any special treatment from me.”

“We will see about that.”

Ellie was surprisingly cooperative while you outlined the essay theme. She even stayed focused while writing the intro.

But while working on the outlines for the body paragraphs she would hit you with a pickup line as often as she could. Somehow, she knew exactly where the sweet spot was, enough to satisfy herself, but not too many that you would get fed up with her and tell her to stop.

“I finished the intro, how about we work on the intro of me and you?”

“I think this paragraph proves I know how to handle a beautiful body.”

Ellie kept holding the eraser side of the pencil to her lips and glancing over to see if it had you looking where she wanted you to. It's painful to admit, but you couldn’t look away.

After mapping out all of the paragraphs you switch over to chemistry.

“Let’s go over the basics for this topic. What can you tell me about entropy without looking at your notes?” You ask her this very hesitantly, you don’t want to put too much pressure on her.

“Chaos and disorder.” Ellie smiles like an evil villain, as if those are her two favorite things.

You give her a nod of approval. “That’s a good start, do you remember how the amount of disorder correlates to the amount of entropy?”

Her face scrunches up while she thinks. “More disorder is more entropy.”

“Perfect.” That puts a devilish grin on Ellie’s face. “If you kissed me I would have less entropy.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, I'm sure you would.” You are completely monotone. “If the reaction is positive do the reactants or the products have higher entropy.”

Ellie straightens up her posture. “The products. So, if kissing was the product there may be a lot of entropy, but it would also be positive.”

“Ellie, if you found some internal motivation you would excel. Not just pass these classes and be able to play lacrosse but do really well. You are smart and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.” You made sure that your tone was soft and reassuring. You really mean it and don’t want to sound condescending.

If you didn’t know any better, you would say that Ellie was on the verge of tearing up. “Really?”

“Yes of course.”

“Nobody ever expects more of me than playing well in lacrosse.” She’s looking anywhere but at you and playing with the pencil in her hand.

“I don’t know you well, but I can tell there is much more to you.”

Ellie looks so lost. “Of course,” she mutters. “I seduce every girl I see.”

That is absolutely not what you meant, even if it had been in the back of your mind.

You softly give Ellie your opinion on the situation, whether it’s your place or not. This girl obviously doesn’t talk about things like this very much and you want her to know it’s ok to be vulnerable and communicate.

“If the way you are with me is any indication of the way you are with other girls, and I don’t want to step out of line here- but I feel like you can handle honesty- it’s a defense mechanism. Deflection specifically.”

Ellie’s eyes shoot wide open and her jaw drops. “Fuck! You are smart.”

You shake your head and smile. “I wouldn’t say that makes me smart, I’m just not shallow like everyone else in this godforsaken town.”

Ellie leans back in her chair so far that it looks like it’s about to tip over. She is staring up at the ceiling when she mumbles. “I think you’re the only one.”

“I don’t think you are either; I think you pretend to be. In order to survive.”

“What are you, some sort of therapist?”

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t spent hours researching this type of thing because I find it interesting.”

“You can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Under one condition, we keep things professional.”

*if anyone is interested in a tag list lmk!

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bnhascribbles · 30 days ago

Text

Anatomy

Bakugou X Reader

Humor, Hurt/Comfort (if you squint)

Words: 4.8K

Warnings: Swearing

Life happens in funny ways. You think you know yourself, how you’ll react in a given situation. Then one day, a man strolls into the room with an entire human arm (one you’re fairly sure he didn’t grow himself) slung across his shoulders, and you start to think that maybe, just maybe, you don’t know anything about anything.

But you’re getting ahead of yourself. It’s best to start from the beginning…

He’s wearing plain black tee, unwrinkled and too-tight around the arms. That, and a deep-set scowl that radiates down towards whatever textbook he’s got spread out in front of him.

It’s so perfectly unfair.

The universe seems to be dead-set on screwing you over. Maybe it‘s payback for the time you stole matches from the chem lab in undergrad (in your defense, it was 10 PM on a Monday and it was your last “hoorah” before you dropped). Maybe you shouldn’t have hogged the library scanner so often copying chapters out of textbooks you didn’t want to pay for, should’ve maybe been a little kinder in your end-of-course review for that one physics TA. Regardless, you don’t deserve your fate.

Not the exhaustion. Not the stress. Not the burden of ending up in the same year as a piece of trash like Bakugo.

Katsuki Bakugo. Second-year medical student in the top 10% of the class. Also a grade A jackass whose jackass-ery is only supported by the fact that he’s sitting in your spot.

Now, you knew assigned seats were a thing for middle schoolers, not 20-something year-olds training to learn to manage actual human lives. Still, when a person occupies the same place in the library for a year and a half, there’s a basic human decency that overrides the need for seating charts and nameplates. Maybe the great Katsuki just can’t grasp that concept. Surprising given the fact that he seems to be picking up on literally everything else with inhuman speed. Genetics. Cardio. Derm. Renal.

Even MSK. Fucking MSK. He was positively thriving in the very musculoskeletal hell that had you retreating to the library for 8+ hours every afternoon after lecture. Which only aggravates the acidic heat you feel brewing in your belly when you see him and Eijiro Kirishima living it up in your study carrel. Kirishima seems to have made himself comfortable standing, resting both of his (positively beefy) arms along the partition dividing to tables. He’s yammering up a storm: something something pen light something no way it’s enough time for a full history. Katsuki is at least seated in his (your) chair, but his eyes are glued to his phone rather than his friend. Or his textbook. Or the laptop open right in front of him.

There’s not a glimmer of productivity in sight. It’s been like this for the past 15 minutes. You know because you’ve been watching, waiting (semi-) patiently in hopes that they’d just pack up and carry on elsewhere. But no, they’re still there. Wasting their time and your space.

What little patience you had left dwindles to nothing in the span of seconds. You gather your things up in your arms and march across the library towards them.

Kirishima sees you first, greeting you with a megawatt grin and a chipper “how’s it goin’?” You hadn’t really interacted with him one-on-one aside from the occasional confused looks you shared during lectures or simulation sessions. All you really know about him is that he and Bakugo are practically joined at the hip, which, up to this point, has been enough to make you keep your distance. Still, Kirishima seems so genuinely kind (unlike his friend who still hasn’t so much as looked at you) that it makes it very hard to stay pissed at him. Which is fine. He isn’t the one in your chair.

I’m doing good. Now, respectfully, I ask that you and your friend vacate the area so I can study in my usual spot, please and thank you.

“You know how it is, same old, same old. School, sleep, repeat.” It’s better than what you want to say. You tug your bag further up your shoulder.

“Ain’t that the truth. At least we have a little bit of a breather, huh?”

“Huh?” Breather? The last “breather” you’d had was when the pulmonology professor coerced you into demonstrating proper technique with an inspiration spirometer. Somehow, you don’t think that’s what Kirishima is getting at.

“You know, in this class.” He clarifies. “It’s pretty easy compared to renal.”

You snort, “yeah, that’s a good one.”

Kirishima blinks.

“MSK…the musculoskeletal system. Being easy. That’s funny.”

Kirishima lets out an awkward sort of laugh, and an uncomfortable silence falls over the study area. The shrill ding of the elevator rings from the other side of the floor. Your classmate’s smile goes deliberately apologetic. You sigh.

“I’m guessing you’re not getting your ass kicked by this class.” You say, placing extra emphasis on the you’re bit. Kirishima scratches at the back of his neck.

As if things aren’t already bad enough, you feel them then. The extra set of eyes settling on you.

“He’s the president of the orthopedic surgery interest group.” Bakugo says. “Bones and the meat attached to them are the only things he actually cares about.” When you fail to respond, he lets out a puff of air from his nose and it’s a wonder the desk doesn’t burst into flames right then and there. “Besides, he isn’t wrong. This class is a cakewalk.”

You stand there, seething. You’re being perfectly polite, keeping the daydreams of concussing him into Glasgow 3 with the underside of your boot securely in your skull.

“Well,” you say, slowly, “I guess everyone has their strengths.”

Bakugo doesn’t take the hint; he pushes.

“How is this harder than renal where things are microscopic?” He rises in one quick motion, resting a knee on the seat. As he leans forward, he lays an arm over the wooden back. He’s nowhere near as toned as Kirishima, but you can see the muscles shifting beneath his skin. Pronounced, like some real-life anatomical model. Triceps, biceps, coracobrachialis—you list them off silently because fuck him.

“Renal is pure physiology,” you say. “Everything has a when and why that you can logic through. MSK is just memorization.”

“Because there’s absolutely no memorization when it comes to nephrons.” His lips pull back into a mocking sort of sneer as he begins to count off on his fingers. “Sodium-hydrogen antiporters, sodium-chloride symporters, Sodium-potassium-chloride—”

“There’s a charge gradient driving that shi—” Not worth it, not worth it and you know it.

What would be the point of attending all those school-mandated mindfulness sessions where you sat in a dark classroom meditating (rather than taking the half-day to do literally anything else) if you let this conversation ruin your day? You had to refocus. Think about the sensation of breathing—in, then out. Your hands, the weight of them hanging at your sides. Your feet and the way they feel sitting within your shoes… aaaaaaand yup, there’s a crinkle in your sock. Now that’s all you’re only going to be able to think about until you can fix it. Thanks meditation.

“You know what, nevermind you guys.” You take a clearing breath. “Everyone has their forte, and I know mine is not muscle origins and insertions. Anyway, I just remembered I have a thing at a place, so I’m going to be heading out.”

And that’s exactly what you plan to do. You ignore the hushed muttering behind you as you trudge towards the elevator, because none of that is actually your problem anymore. You’re mindful and centered and—

And a hand latches onto your shoulder. You lurch forward as momentum does its thing, only spared from a faceplant into the however-many-decades-old carpet by the sheer strength of your assailant's grip. You spin, already expecting who you have to blame and planning out the venomous rant you’ll spit their way (library “quiet please!” sign be damned). But rather than meeting Bakugo’s gaze, it’s his palm that floats mere inches from your nose.

You open your mouth, but he’s quicker to speak than you are.

“I fall on an outstretched palm and fuck up my hand. Four days later I come to you and tell you it still hurts like hell—I can’t move it anymore. What tests do you order?”

There’s silence for a good long moment. Then your senses return to you in one quick rush.

“What the actual hell Katsuki?” A couple other library-goers flinch and shoot your sharp looks towards your outburst, but who even cares anymore?

“Answer the question.”

“No, because like what the actual hell? We already established I’m an idiot, so can you please just leave me alone?”

Bakugo’s grip on your shoulder tightens and you swat it off with a loud smack. His eyes widen as both you and he cast glances towards his hand, now floating off in dead space beside the pair of you. He purses his lips.

“Nobody called you an idiot.” He tries to be casual about lowering both of his hands to his sides, tucking them into his pockets.

“Maybe not using those exact words, they didn’t.” You say, soft but firm. “But the implication was clear.”

Then you stare. Bakugo does too, his eyes wider than usual, lips pulled back in a tight line. You’re no expert in reading people, but he’s also no expert in keeping the emotion from showing plainly in his expression. Surprise, which gives way to confusion, which gives way to something else.

“You’re not an idiot.” He finally says. Neither of you speak, letting the words hang in the space between you. Even as you’re both extremely aware of Kirishima is edging his way towards your spot by the elevators.

You let out a heavy sigh, folding your arms.

“X-Ray.” You say. Bakugo flinches, going so far as to take a full step backwards. Which is rich, given that with all the sucker punches you’ve imagined striking him with, a single word is enough to catch him off-guard. But even Kirishima freezes, mouth caught in shape somewhere between goofy grin and catching flies.

They both stand there, and you roll your eyes and say, “I’d order an x-ray first.”

Bakugo’s gaze narrows, and like that he’s back to his usual self. You swear you even see the corner of his mouth twitch upward. “Why an x-ray?”

“Why not?”

“You’re the doctor—what are you gonna say to your patient when they ask the same question?” He scratches at his head, mocking, all evidence of remorse wiped from his system. “Geeze, I dunno, ‘x-ray’ is 14 points in Scrabble so I guess I’ll order that.”

You should be angry, but something feels…different about the bickering this time. That and—

“How do you know how many points ‘x-ray’ is in scrabble?” You ask, half-mocking. Because while you’re sincerely wondering if Katsuki Bakugo spends his Saturday nights playing Scrabble, you also want him to squirm a bit.

“Why do you want an x-ray?” He repeats the question. There’s a dusting of red across his cheeks creeping towards his ears.

Nice, you think.

“Because an x-ray is the first thing you get when someone comes in after a hand injury.”

“Why’d the patient wait four days to come in though?” You open your mouth and he cuts in with “don’t say ‘because it didn’t stop hurting.’ This is a vignette, not real life.”

“But what’s even the point of all this if not to prepare for real life?”

“Will you just—” He clenches his teeth tight and takes a deep breath. “Think for a second. What’s on your differential?”

You chew at your lip. “Fracture.”

“But which bone?” You hesitate, your mistake, and he shakes his head. “Just think. This is a classic presentation. On every test you’ll ever take. What bone in the hand is supplied by a retrograde blood flow?”

And you don’t know. Shit, you’ll have to look that up when you get home. Still, you’ll swallow a jar of thumbtacks before you ever admit that to Bakugo. You shoot Kirishima, who’s standing over Bakugo’s shoulder now, an exasperated look. He starts to say something, but then he’s getting cut off.

“Don’t help, or they won’t learn.” Bakugo snaps. His red-hot gaze fixes between your eyes. “And you, don’t look at him. This is basic anatomy.”

Anger wells in your chest again. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was in lecture right now.”

You were furious at Bakugo, true. But…but also at yourself. You should know this. You’d had a lecture on the hand last week, which was practically a year ago in medical time. Your classmates were soaring through, already on nerve innervations while you struggled to learn the building blocks. School used to be fun, tests like a mini-competition you were guaranteed to win.

You’d never struggled like this before, had never had to grapple with the fact that even after days of forgoing sleep in favor of studying, you were still floundering. Something in your brain was wired wrong, you were sure. Medical school is like trying to drink out of the ocean with a straw, everyone said. It’s the hardest thing you’ll do, they said. Then how was it that nobody else seemed to be struggling like you were?

But again. You could be studying now, could be working on figuring out exactly the shit Bakugo is rubbing in your face. But no. Instead you’re stuck in a pissing match with Mr. Perfect. Mr. Top-of-the-class, God’s-blonde-gift-to-humanity. The conversation isn’t even worth it anymore. You’d meant to leave before and now you were going to follow through. You scoff and start to walk off—

And he’s in front of you. Bakugo has taken one step to his right and effectively placed himself between you and the elevator.

“Move.” You demand.

“Just answer the damn question.”

“No. You’re not my professor.”

“I’m also not failing the only class where you are the cheat sheet.”

You wince. The truth in it stings something fierce.

“Enough, Katsuki.” Kirishima finally cuts in, his normally-cheery voice harder than you’ve ever heard. “You’re being a real jerk right now.”

Bakugo opens his mouth like he’s going to say something sharp, but the words die on his tongue. He looks between you and his friend.

“It’s a scaphoid fracture, Eijiro. They’ve only mentioned it like a thousand times, so imagine how much harder the rest—”

“That’s enough.” Kirishima says it again, louder. He grabs Bakugo by his upper arm and drags him out of your way. The lines between his brow are deep when he looks toward you, making him look years older than he had only minutes before. “I’m sorry about…well about all of that.”

About Bakugo? you want to ask. Or about the fact that he’s actually right for once?

You say nothing and hurry into the elevator. You don’t even try to hide the way to tap hurriedly at the door close button. The sooner you get out of here, the sooner you can get home. The sooner you get home the sooner you can get in bed and wallow, pretending you actually belong—

There’s a loud scuffle, a shout, then something slides between the elevator doors just as they bolt. You stagger, your back pressing flush to the metal wall behind you as a menacing presence invades your space.

“I carry mace.” You sputter, reaching for your keys as Bakugo slams the button for the first floor. The medical library was on the twelfth.

“Meet me in the dry lab on Saturday.” He says, mere inches of space separating his chest from yours.

You blink. Bakugo doesn’t. He stares, not at the neon aerosol pointed directly at his face, but at you in all your terrified glory.

“I’d rather not.” You say, slowly.

He grits his teeth. “Why not?”

“Because you’re kind of an asshole. And I’d rather not spend my free time with assholes.”

“You’d rather fail?”

“I’m already doing that.” You purse your lips. “As you so astutely pointed out before.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but then the elevator door opens on the ninth floor. A shorter boy takes a step as if to get on, but freezes as soon as he catches sight of the pair of you. Bakugo twists to look back over his shoulder. You can’t be sure exactly what he does in that moment, but whatever it is has the other student taking several slow steps backwards. The elevator door shuts and he makes no attempt to get back on.

Bakugo’s attention shifts back entirely towards you.

“Will you put that away before you blind us both?” He asks as he gestures towards your mace with his chin. He asks in the way that exasperated parents ask questions that aren’t really questions. Would you like to play nicely with your sibling, or would you like to explain to the emergency room staff how reenacting ‘Lion King’ ended up with one of you spraining your neck?

“I don’t like the way you talk to me.” You say, the words are more honest than you intend. They’re not what he expects, based on the way his eyes go wide. “I’m an idiot when it comes to most things, but I already know that and I don’t need you drilling the point home every five seconds.”

He grabs at his hair with both hands, tugging as he lets out an exasperated groan. “What is with you?! Nobody is calling you an idiot, so will you stop calling yourself one?”

“Once you stop making me feel like one, then maybe I will.”

“Listen,” he says through gritted teeth, “I’m gonna give you a piece of advice here—”

“Not asking for it.”

“I don’t give a shit, you’re gonna listen because you’re an adult and apparently nobody has told you this much yet.” He holds his arms out wide at his sides, leaning forward. “Not everyone is thinking about you all the time. Sometimes, when people are talking about classes they find easy, it’s because they think they’re easy! They’re not calling you stupid because you don’t—they’re just talking.”

“Yeah? And throwing a dozen questions my way that you know I can’t answer, is that ‘just talking?’”

“How am I supposed to know what you can and can’t answer?”

“Because it’s obvious! How the hell am I supposed to be able to diagnose a scaphoid fracture if I barely know where the scaphoid is?”

“You passed renal!” Bakugo says, like it means something.

“Like that changes the fact I’m flunking a class with a built- in ‘cheat sheet,’ as you so deftly put it.”

“Which is why I’m telling you to meet me in the dry lab tomorrow, so I can show you how to not flunk.”

The tears are hot at the corners of your eyes. “Like I said before, you’re an asshole.”

“That’s right, he shouts, “I’m an asshole! The sky is blue! But sometimes, just sometimes, I don’t mean to be one. It just happens. I say the first thing that pops into my head because the alternative is sitting there agonizing over all the ways I should be saying things. Everyone says ‘think before you speak’ like that’s supposed to fix everything. Well that’s great until you think yourself into a fucking hole. So instead, I say stupid asshole-ish things then chase classmates into an elevator to try and make up for it after the fact.”

The air is heavy with the weight of too many uncomfortable truths. You’re both breathing heavy—him from his rant, you from trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill out.

You will not cry in front of Katsuki Bakugo. It’s a vow you never thought you had to make up until this very moment.

“Are you coming tomorrow or not?” He asks. The elevator doors open, and when you make no move to scurry out, he reaches back and presses another button. The floor lurches upward as you begin your ascent.

“What if it isn’t enough?” You say, just barely.

“What do you mean?”

“What if studying with you isn’t enough?” Your words are clipped, full of the emotion you refuse to express otherwise. “What if I show up and put in the work and I still suck at all of this.”

Bakugo shakes his head. “Why are you worrying about that now? Just deal with what’s in front of you.”

“Because what’s even the point of trying if it’s all gonna go to hell anyway? If I’m just wasting my tuition trying to do something I’m not able to do?”

He sighs, scratching at the back of his head. “Listen, I help you out, but I can’t fix that.”

“Fix what?”

“That.” He gestures absently towards you. “The self-pitying bullshit.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. “Well, fuck me I guess.”

“I—you just—goddammit.” Bakugo shuts his eyes tight and groans long and deep. “How the hell am I supposed to say it without pissing you off. I just told you about how I’m no good at this.

You open your mouth to retort, but he continues before you can.

“You were probably told all about how smart you were growing up, right? How special you were? Big fish in a little pond. Then you get into medical school and suddenly you’re surrounded by hundreds of special people just like you. And somehow their talent makes yours feel a lot less real. The first time you actually have to struggle for something, you find yourself wondering if you were even smart in the first place—if you coming here wasn’t one big accident.” He pauses, half his mouth tilts upward into a knowing sort of smile. “That’s how it was for me, at least. I swear, every other day I get this feeling at the back of my neck like someone is just waiting for me to mess up so they can tell me to pack my bags.”

He looks your way and scoffs. “Well, try not to act so surprised.”

It’s then that you realize your eyes must be the size of dinner plates.

“You hide it well.” You say softly.

“Do I really? Eijiro says I’m like one of those chihuahuas that compensates for his size by acting like the biggest thing in the room.”

“I mean, I’d call it a Napoleon complex, but I think something about the chihuahua fits better.”

“Either way,” he says, “you’re in a rut now. You’ve had to struggle at school for the first time in your life and now you have to deal with all the insecurity it entails. I’m not gonna promise you that if you study my way you’re gonna pass. I’m also not gonna lie and tell you that once you’re through MSK, it’ll all get better. It probably won’t. You’ll keep struggling and feeling stupid, and everyone has their own way of dealing. You’ve gotta find your own reason for pushing through despite it all.” He presses a finger into the left side of your chest as if to emphasize his point. “If it’s that you wanna graduate to be a badass physician, fine. You wanna do it to learn as much as you can, regardless of the grade? Great. Wanna do it just so those idiots back home have to look you in the eyes and call you ‘doctor?’” He grins wide and moves his hand so it rests on your shoulder. “I’d say that’s the best reason there is. But nobody in this field is gonna take the time to tell you how special you are and why you should push through. You’ve got to do it for yourself.”

And that’s it. For some reason that stupid speech, given in an elevator that smells a little like weed soaked in gasoline is what sets you off. What lets loose the insecurities you’ve been clinging to since first-year. You start blubbering like a baby and Bakugo, the six-foot-something grown man that he is, looks absolutely horrified at the fact. He squeezes your shoulder once, a caricature of comfort. Then he thinks better of it and pulls you into something vaguely resembling a hug. His back is rigid and his shoulders raised practically to his ears, but by god, he’s trying if the hand patting at your back every couple seconds or so is any indication.

It’s after a long moment of this (and another confused student peering into the elevator then making the wise decision to wait for the next) that you finally speak.

“It’s just so much sometimes.” You say, giving voice to the thoughts you’ve held for so long. “You have to be practically superhuman to balance everything we do—studying, sleeping, eating, breathing.”

“How do you eat an elephant?” Bakugo asks in the quiet that follows.

You pull back quickly to cast him a confused look, “Wait, why are we eating elephants now?”

“Because that’s the way the saying goes, I don’t know.” He gives you one more pat on the back. “Anyway, how do you eat an elephant?”

“Aren’t they endangered—.”

“One bite at a time.”

You stare at him. Bakugo stares back. Then he throws his head back and groans, long and loud. “God, now it sounds a lot dumber to say out loud. Why do you have to ask stupid questions like that and ruin everything?”

“There are no stupid questions, Bakugo.”

“Yeah, well I disagree.”

“And that’s why you’re going into general surgery.” You punctuate the statement with a quick tap of your finger against his nose.

He swats away your hand and jerks back from you like he’s been shot. “Did Eijiro tell you?”

Despite your goopy eyes and still-snotty nose, you throw back your head and laugh. “Dude, it’s obvious.”

“Just like it’s obvious you’re doing internal medicine?” He says it with a scowl, like it’s supposed to be an insult. One you can’t take seriously given that’s like saying ‘wow, I can’t believe you’re only interested in being a rocket scientist.’ Which only leaves you laughing all that much more.

“How’d you figure?” You ask, playing along.

“Ignoring the fact that you suck at basic anatomy?”

“Yeah? Well check out this metatarsal.” You flip the bird.

Something in Bakugo’s face changes then. He’s smiling, but it’s nothing like Kirishima’s cheery grin. In a practiced move, he thrusts both middle fingers out towards you. He uses one to point at the lower part of the other, right where it joins with his palm. “Metacarpal,” he points to the joint just above it, “and phalanges.” The words are arrogance and acid swirled together. His stare is no better. “Unless you’ve got feet attached to your wrists, that is.”

You knew that. Shit, mega-shit, proving-his-point-shit. That was the easiest crap in the world and you knew that. But in your rush to be a smartass, you’d made a dumbass of yourself. You rush towards the elevator door, poking hurriedly at the ‘open the door nownownow’ button. You don’t care if you’re between floors. You don’t care if that’s not how elevators work. You want to throw yourself into the elevator shaft abyss now, please and thank you.

“So,” Bakugo, that super-mega-awful human that he is drawls as he leans a shoulder against the wall opposite to you, “what we can finally agree on the fact that you’re missing so much of the fundamentals that it’ll be useless to try and drill pathology into you.”

You can’t even look at him. If you do, you will smack the ever-loving-shit out of that self-righteous mouth of his.

“We’ve gotta start from the ground up. And that means I better see you in the dry lab,” He leans in and, close enough that he must not fear the consequences of your rage, “starting tomorrow.”

The door opens. You sprint out onto the sixth floor of the library like some crazed animal, ignoring the looks of utter bewilderment from the other students on the floor.

Even so, you know. God, you know you have to show up.

~~~~~

And that brings you to your current predicament on Saturday, 9AM, in a near-abandoned campus classroom.

With Katsuki Bakugo in his signature back tee and gold chain blocking your only exit, a dismembered anatomical arm slung across his shoulder.

You can practically smell the danger in the situation, especially when he bares his teeth like some kind predator.

“What, were you expecting someone else? Kirishima has lacrosse, so he’s not coming to save you anytime soon.” His grin widens, cruel. “Are you ready to learn?”

And just like that, you begin to regret every life decision you’ve made up to this point. But hey, at least it’ll be worth it to not fail MSK, right?

Right?

#bnha x reader #bnha #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #this was self indulgent #boku no hero academia #bnha reader insert

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thecapricunt1616 · 5 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 13 🎃

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 (𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭): “Someone has a big Chem lab today, and didn’t take a lunch” you said and he blushed a bit, shrugging. “That’s what m’studying for right now. Did you really come all the way down here to bring me food?” He asked and you smiled, nodding and taking the little brown paper bag out and putting it in front of him

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Helloooo! Welcome to day 13 of kinktober with our lovely lip gallagher! I hope you enjoy hehe 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.0k+ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Implied smut, college kids in love, not very edited, swearing 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬: @/𝘀𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗸𝗮-𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗰𝘀 & @/𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗰𝘀

You wrapped up the turkey, apple, and Gruyère sandwich with hot honey that you’d made for your boyfriend, wrapping it in one of your little reusable beeswax wraps that you’d gotten for your shared apartment.

Lip called them ‘fancy shit’ but you’d done research in one of your eco-studies classes at school and plastic was really killing the earth, so it was important to you that you made the switch in your own house. The only reason he hadn’t had the time to throw a sad baloney and American cheese sandwich into one of them for himself this morning, was because he was running late for class himself.

You grabbed one of the reusable silicone ziplocks and filled it with the jalapeño parmesan chips that he liked, sealing it and grabbing a banana, and granola bar as well as a beef jerky stick for later since he usually ran late studying in the library, which is what you figured he was doing now between classes.

You packed all the food neatly in a brown paper bag, adding a note in that said ‘love you handsome guy, need brain-food for all that studying ;)’ and drew a little heart as well.

And just like that, you were on your way to The L, tote bag containing both of your lunches to enjoy together in the library.

You popped your headphones in and continued to read The Awakening - which was your assigned book for English this semester, tapping your highlighter on your knee between highlighting passages you wanted to add into your analyses. It wasn’t too long until you were tucking your book back into your tote bag, as well as your highlighter and getting up from your seat.

The doors opened for your stop and you step out into the crisp autumn air, nuzzling your nose into your warm scarf as you walk. You hummed along to the song playing through your headphones, something new by Taylor swift as the library came into view. When you finally opened the large heavy door of UChicagos library and the warmth of the heater hit your near frost bitten cheeks from the wind whipping your face.

Sniffling, you made your way to the very top floor, trudging up all those stairs since the elevator took forever, and by the top you were panting a bit, scanning over the room until you found Lip in his signature brown jacket and jeans. He was sitting at one of his favorite tables in the far left corner near the back stairwell, slouched down in the chair with a pencil pressed to his temple and wired headphones buried in his ears. You were the only 2 people on the floor, since it was just a quiet Friday afternoon afterall, most people were skipping class today to party and drink- but Lip had gotten much more serious about his education since he’d met you.

You took the chance to surprise him, walking up behind him and covering his eyes gently and he pulled out his headphones

“Babe? You don’t have class-“ he said and you tilted his chin up, stealing an upside down kiss

“Someone has a big Chem lab today, and didn’t take a lunch” you said and he blushed a bit, shrugging.

“That’s what m’studying for right now. Did you really come all the way down here to bring me food?” He asked and you smiled, nodding and taking the little brown paper bag out and putting it in front of him

“And to be a good girlfriend and have lunch with you” you took out your same identical lunch out, except it was in your pink lunchbox that was reusable.

“You’re too cute- what did you make?” He asked, nearly grinning from ear to ear which you thought was adorable. He had shown you through his reactions to things that acts of service and physical touch were absolutely his love languages.

“Take a bite and find out. I think you’ll like it, very Lip Gallagher vibes, spicy and sweet” you giggle, opening up your bag of chips and popping one in your mouth. He chuckled at that, kissing the corner of your mouth lovingly.

“I don’t think someone’s ever come all the way across town to give me lunch before” he said and took a bite, brows raising and he hums in delight. “How the fuck did you come up with this? Are those apples?” He asked and you giggled, nodding a bit.

“Apples” you concur. “In a sandwich, how about that! Is it good?” You asked and he smirked

“Y’know- it may just beat out bologna and cheese- maybe” he joked, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes.

“Wow! Look at that. And to think I didn’t know that would ever get beaten out. So am I gonna have to get up every day and make it?” You joked and he huffed a chuckle as he finished his first half

“No you just gotta show me what fancy shit of yours you use to make it and then I’ll know how to do it myself” he nudges you with his shoulder playfully.

By the time you were both done and had washed up after lunch, you were sat on Lips lap in one of the corner recliners that was blocked from view of the cameras making out. It was only natural for him to get handsy after you’d done something nice like this for him. It was one of the ways he knew best how to express his gratitude.

He slips his hand down the front of your leggings and you gasped a bit into his mouth, holding the back of his neck. “Lip- we’re in the library” you said in a hushed whisper. He smirked into the crook of your neck in response, kissing down your jaw and over your chin until he found your lips again.

“Thats what makes it so fun, ye’? All the risk?” he said into your lips before giving you a hot, loving kiss.

Lip Gallagher was going to be the death of you.

Fin

Tag List: - @carmenberzattosgf - @daysofyellowroses - @mouseymilkovich - @gallaghersgal - @maggiesarchives - @carmybrainworms - @l4long-winded - @babyspiderling - @southsideserendipity - @djlnkaled

#Capri's Kinktober 2024 #lip gallagher fanfic #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fic #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #lip gallagher x you

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slytherinshua · 1 year ago

Text

CALM IN THE STORM

genre. fluff. comfort. warnings. crying. thunderstorms. ig anxiety mention? pairing. jungwon x fem!reader. wc. 2k. a/n. happiest birthday to @edensgardenn, this fic is for u ml 🫶 i hope u like it!! ^^

“It’s supposed to rain tonight— are you sure you don’t want me to walk you back now? We can end the study session early.” Jungwon asked from the doorway. You were seated at his desk, filling in a practice test for your chem class.

“No, it’s fine. I want to finish this.” You replied without even glancing away from the page, careful to not disrupt your perfect flow of concentration. After weeks of review and studying, the questions were finally making sense, and you wanted to be sure to get at least a 90% right on the practice test before the real thing in 2 days.

Jungwon wanted to insist, but he also didn’t want to interrupt you. The forecast really was calling for rain, a thunderstorm even. He didn’t like the thought of you walking back home in those conditions, even if it was just a couple blocks away. But, you were also so cutely focused on the piece of paper in front of you, flipping your pencil around to erase and adjust the model of an atom you were drawing.

Jungwon, in general, was timid, and maybe a little bit of a pushover. This definitely showed when he was around you, to the extent that his friends Jake and Sunghoon said that he was positively whipped for you. A little crush was all he was willing to admit to, but deep down he knew he was willing to do practically anything you asked. He liked to see the smile on your face when your plans worked out.

He liked to see you smile because of him.

Jungwon went back into the kitchen to finish cutting up apples as a snack. He knew you were prone to forget to eat when you were focused on something. It was these little habits that he loved to take note of and try to help with.

He arranged the slices of apple with care, lips pursed as he looked at the plate. Then he shook his head and started to rearrange them again before he was satisfied. He was quiet walking back to his bedroom where you were working, making sure that if something broke your concentration, it wouldn't be him.

You smiled and mumbled a small thank you as he placed the plate down— a reaction that Jungwon would never get tired of. As you sighed and stretched your arms to work out the aches from sitting for hours, you first noticed that the apples were arranged in a heart shape around the plate, and that there was a small dollop of peanut butter in the centre of the heart.

“You’re so cheesy…” You whispered with an amused scoff as you bit into the piece of apple.

Jungwon's lips turned up into a giddy smile hearing your whispered comment, but he tried to hide it behind his phone. The room became quiet as you went back to studying and Jungwon started to scroll through his phone on the bed.

You quickly lost track of time as you went back to your notes, and Jungwon slowly dozed off when he got tired of looking at his phone. You finished studying for science and decided to review your unit in social studies before finally calling it a day.

You let out a satisfied sigh. You had been incredibly productive during your study session and the payoff of your effort was an overflowing feeling of confidence when you thought about your upcoming exams. You stood up and stretched, a grin growing on your face at the sight of Jungwon sleeping on the bed.

You crouched beside him, admiring his pretty features even when he was sleeping. You reached out your hand and then hesitated. A piece of hair had fallen over his eye as he shifted slightly and you instinctively wanted to move it back into place. After a little consideration and a warm buzzing feeling growing in your stomach somehow urging you on, you reached forward again, this time gently brushing back the piece of hair to its rightful place.

You smiled— the last moment of peace and calm before a loud strike of thunder made you startle. The sound made you jump and a yelp of surprise escaped your throat. The commotion was loud enough to wake Jungwon up from his slumber. He sat up abruptly, blinking his eyes in shock before asking what happened and if you were okay in a hurried jumble of words.

“I’m okay,” You nodded, a little tense, “I think.”

“Get off the floor.” Jungwon said sheepishly, holding out his hand for you to grab onto to pull yourself up.

You sat next to him and relaxed your shoulders. You should have taken his advice from before and gone home early. You weren’t sure how you were going to walk home in this weather.

“Maybe I can… hail a taxi?” You questioned, glancing out the window to watch the ongoing storm before taking out your phone to check the time. It was already almost midnight. You stood up, “Either way I should try to get home quickly.”

Jungwon grabbed your hand to stop you. “No,” He said sternly, “Being outside during a storm like this isn’t safe.”

“But-” Another loud flash of lightning sounded and you tensed again.

“You hate loud noises, Y/n.” Jungwon reminded quietly, “Wouldn’t it be better if you stay?”

“Stay?! As in sleep over?” Your eyes widened as Jungwon nodded gently.

“I have a guest room for a reason…”

You would've protested if it weren’t for the violent thunder that continued to rage outside. You gave in to Jungwon’s idea, and he started to run around the house to get you everything you could possibly need with the brightest smile on his face.

“Anything in the kitchen is up for grabs if you’re hungry. There’s new toothbrushes in the bathroom cabinet as well as untouched toothpaste and mouthwash if you don’t want to use mine- oh! And you can shower or take a bath if you need to. I washed the tub this morning, I promise it’s clean.” He rattled off as you dropped your backpack on the floor of the guest bedroom.

“Thank you, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” You told him nervously. You couldn’t quite differentiate if your anxiety stemmed from the loud storm or the fact that Jungwon was gazing at you as if you hung the very stars in the sky— his lips curved up into the most breathtaking smile the heavens had ever witnessed and his adorable dimples taking their place on his cheeks to complement it all.

“Sleep well, Y/n. Just knock on my door if you need anything. Goodnight!” He grinned and walked back to his room.

You showered and did your usual nighttime hygiene without any problems. It was only when you laid down with the intention of sleeping that you faced your first predicament.

The thunder was scaring you more than you had thought before.

When Jungwon was still in the room, you merely tensed a little when there was a particularly loud strike. But now that you were alone in the dark and unfamiliar guestroom, you felt frightened.

The room somehow seemed 10 degrees chillier than Jungwon’s comfortable room. Maybe it was him and his warmth that made it seem that way. You tossed and turned, trying to wrap the blanket around your body to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in. But with the storm in the background and nothing else to focus on, your anxiety built up until you were close to tears.

You tried one last time to close your eyes and escape into your dreams, but again, you failed as another strike of thunder reached your eardrums. It became impossible to hold back your tears anymore, and as they slipped down your cheeks, you slowly got yourself to walk down the hall to Jungwon’s room.

You knocked 3 times on his door, promising yourself that if he didn’t answer you would just go back to bed and force yourself to make it through the night. You were already staying over unplanned and you didn’t want to cause any more inconvenience to the boy you liked than you already were.

As soon as the door opened and a sleepy Jungwon stood on the other side of it, you were already moving to hug him. Jungwon, in his still drowsy state, was taken by surprise with your sudden closeness, but as soon as his foggy brain registered that he wasn’t dreaming and that you were in fact hugging him right now, his heart melted on the spot.

“W-what happened, Y/n?” He gulped, somehow gathering the courage to wrap his arms around you as well to reciprocate the hug. He had barely even held your hand before, let alone hug you so closely, and he felt as if he should’ve been given time to prepare for this.

It was hard to hear you completely since your words were getting muffled by the fabric of Jungwon’s hoodie, but he was able to make out “storm” and “scared” and “couldn’t sleep” and put the pieces together from there.

He smiled and lifted you up in his arms so he was carrying you. You let him, burying your face in the crook of his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist. He carried you carefully to his bed, setting you down on it as if he was scared he would crack you.

“You don’t have a sweater, do you?” He asked. He had noticed the goosebumps on your arms and how cold your skin had felt moments earlier. You shook your head.

“Hm…” Jungwon hummed, looking in his closet amongst the hangers of jackets to find a crew-neck sweater. He tossed it to you once he found a suitable one and your cheeks burned once you realized that he had given this to you to wear. His sweater for you to wear.

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep if I stay with you?” He questioned shyly.

“You mean sleep… together?” You asked, slipping into the sweater.

“Uh- I… I didn’t mean it like- Well-” Jungwon’s cheeks had never flushed such a bright red before.

“I don’t… mind.” You whispered quietly. You smiled at him, hoping that he might actually join you because the hug had ended too quickly and you had a need to stay cuddled up to him where you felt comfortable and safe for hours.

“Is this okay?” Jungwon asked, experimentally scooting a little closer to you, at a distance where he could hold your hand without having to reach at all.

“Yeah.”

“What about uh…” He questioned you with his eyes as he lifted the blanket to slip under it. You nodded again, ignoring how both of your cheeks are red as tomatoes, and the butterflies in both of your stomachs are having little dance parties.

Jungwon repeated those steps, always asking you before he does something, making sure that before anything else, you’re comfortable. And you continued to nod and give him affirmative answers until eventually you’re curled up against his chest again.

Being so close to him came with all the comfort the world could offer. Nothing could dare to touch you when you were wrapped safely in his arms, cheek resting against his chest, listening to his heart race from having you so close.

You felt comfortable, and safe, and happy.

And even though the storm continues to thrash outside— raindrops falling heavily on the roof and thunder crashes startling you every couple minutes— you were able to close your eyes and eventually fall asleep.

When Jungwon noticed that you’d drifted off to sleep, he smiled and hugged you closer. He concludes that he must be on some sickenly-in-love high, because he swears he’s never had this much confidence in his life; but he somehow finds the confidence to bring his face down slightly, just enough to press his lips to your forehead for 3 short seconds, 3 seconds that felt like an eternity.

↳ enha taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-redhair,, @ddeonudepressions,, @skz-minchan-enthusiast,, @delcakoo,, @kpoprhia,, @weird-bookworm,, @cha3w0n-hearts,, @edensgardenn

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bratphilia · 1 year ago

Note

I was talking about the step-father one! I honestly don’t have many ideas. except for maybe, if he lets his William side come out. so either a boy that the reader was talking to “goes missing” or hell, maybe even reader’s mom if she starts to get in the way?

ofc reader wouldn’t know who did it or anything, as William is careful with his killings. but yeah those are just ideas!! you don’t have to do them, just throwing them out there

taboo, pt. 2: blood on the tires (w. afton x reader)

note: here it is!! just decided to follow your first idea bc i dont know if yall wanna see your mom... well... so here we are.

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: murder, stalking, spanking, 69 position, overstimulation, daddy kink

taglist: @iikyutee

"mmmmph!" you moan against steve's hand. it's slapped over your mouth to drown out any noises you make. for extra precautions, there's also a blanket covering the crack of the bottom of your door to ensure no noises escape the room.

steve is pounding into you. one of your legs is slung over his shoulder. it's like clockwork at this point. your mom is on the phone with her friend, so steve slipped into your room and pounded the living day lights out of you.

simple.

when it's over and he's buckling his belt, you reach for your phone, suddenly engrossed in typing something. "who are you texting?" he asks in a genuinely playful tone.

"oh, just kai," you say mindlessly like you're supposed to know who you're talking about.

"kai," he repeats. who the fuck is kai? something in his gut churns. he doesn't like it. he's never heard of him until now. "where did you meet him?"

your eyes never leave your phone. your lips quirk up slightly when a responding notification sounds. "he was my lab partner in bio-chem. asked for my number afterwards."

oh. so he's interested in you, is steve's takeaway. but he clenches his jaw and says nothing. instead he changes the subject:

"what do you want for dinner? or should we just order out?"

you both decided on ordering out, your mom wanted to make food, but two versus one, right? throughout dinner, steve is dead silent. his eyes stay on his plate. you and your mom are passively arguing about something, but all he hears is white noise. kai. he hasn't felt this blinded by rage since, well, he was still william.

a chicken is trying to get in his coop. it wakes up the william side of him. and steve — william — hates it.

suddenly the sound of the kitchen table banging snaps him away from his thoughts. you're getting up, tears in your eyes. "fuck you!" you scream at your mom and stomp upstairs.

mom turns to steve for support. "she's just so immature."

"i agree, honey," he muses.

but don't worry, he'll be there to pick up the pieces later, when mom's asleep and when you should be too. but you're waiting for him to sneak in your room. you always are. his darling girl.

you wake up the next day, hoping to feel steve's arms wrapped around you and his face buried in the crook in your neck, just like the position the two of you are always in after another one of your midnight sessions. but he's not there. you never got used to his abandonment of you, but you're forced to understand why.

you don't come out of your room the next day. you can't face your mother and her fake apologies. you feel sick to your stomach with hunger, but you just stare at the wall and wait for steve to come back. part of your arrangement is an unspoken truce; a mutual understanding that the two of you are in each other's corner, as cheesy as that sounds.

steve does come back, but it's around one in the morning. he comes in, positive you're awake — because of the sound of music coming from your laptop — only to find you sound asleep. then he notices something.

your phone. he remembers last night.

steve scrolls through your text messages with kai. he invited you to go to the movies and then his house to study — probably where a disgusting man-child like him would try to put his hands on you — but much to steve's dismay, he said he would give you his address during class tomorrow.

fuck. steve would have to wait to strike until after your class tomorrow, meaning he'd have to find a way to take you so he knows where to go. he can manage that.

everything goes according to plan. he's able to convince you let him take you to school, despite the suspicious quirk of your brow. he doesn't leave the campus. instead, how does he pass his time? well, let's just say he uses some of the pictures he's taken of your naked, post-sex body, are put into good use.

he's parked from an angle so that he can get a good look at the students that come rolling out of the building and to the parking lot.

steve spots you as you walk out of classroom, talking with a boy that he recognizes from the photo you set as kai's profile picture. as the two of you part ways, you head to the parking lot where you thought steve would be waiting to pick you up at. instead, steve drives around, following kai's trail until he's alone.

it's just too easy. as kai is walking across the street, steve simply revs his engine and speeds forward, slamming the poor bastard's body against the front of his car. and then, for good measure, he backs up, feeling the tires elevate as the run over his body. steve just can't contain his smile.

he pulls back up to your meeting spot to find you sitting on a bench on your phone. a sick part of him hopes you're trying to reach kai. steve honks the horn, grabbing your attention. you climb into the car and inquire, "what's wrong with the front of your car?"

"drove into some mud awhile back."

thankfully, you drop it, engrossed in your phone once more. once you're back home, mom's at work, meaning the two of you have time to do whatever you want until she comes home. the both of you decide on watching a movie that ends with his body on top of yours, slamming his hips into you while you practically scream.

steve is glad things worked out this way.

the day that you were planning on going to the movies with kai approaches and steve can barely contain his excitement. he has plans for how he'll handle your disappointment when you come home.

it's been about two hours since you left. steve can only imagine you waiting at the mall growing more and more impatient as the time goes by. when he hears the telltale sound of the door slamming and a loud slam, he smiles knowingly.

"what's wrong, honey?" he calls, approaching you from the kitchen.

immediately, you look tearful. "he stood me up..."

"who did?"

"kai!" you shout, louder than intended.

oh, so you want to act like a brat, do you? he fakes an angry look. "don't use that tone with me." this should be good.

a tear slips down your cheek and you wipe it with the back of your hand. "'m sorry. just upset."

"you're sorry, what?"

you practically perk up. you know damn well what's coming next, too. "i'm sorry, daddy."

steve smiles — smirks, actually, and saunters towards you. he lifts you chin to look at him with one hand and the other is put on your shoulder. "you don't need to mess with boys like kai when you have a man like me in your life."

you nod slowly. he's right after all. all steve had to do was eliminate the option for you to make the right decision.

then he drops his hands, looking at you with authority and pulls you into the room that your mom and him sleep in. "you do know what happens to brats, right?"

"but daddy, i was just —"

"none of that," he scolds you and moves to sit at the end of the bed. "bend over my lap."

blood rushes to your face. he's going to punish you like a child, and for some reason, it increases the heat already pooling in your stomach. you promptly slip out of your leggings and do what he says, embarrassed. he has you so your ass is in the air.

steve smooths over the soft skin and pulls and tugs at your thong, letting it snap against your skin and earning a jolt from you. "did you wear these for him."

"no daddy," you whine. "only you."

"good girl," he praises, but he doesn't quite believe you.

he starts delivering smacks to your ass, causing high pitched whines to tumble from your mouth uncontrollably. the blows are inconsistent both in speed in between slaps and harshness, always keeping you on the edge for what happens next. he spanks you fifteen times (he made you count and thank him after each one) until he decides you've had enough.

he pulls your underwear to the side and dips a finger inside your wet pussy. "poor baby, so needy for daddy," he coos.

"yes," you moan, wriggling against him.

he situates you so that you're upright on his lap. you cock your head curiously. "i want to try a new position. want you to suck my cock while i eat your pussy." you rub your thighs together in anticipation. it's a position you've only seen in porn, so this was exciting to you.

steve sheds the rest of his clothes off and lays on the bed, beckoning for you to lay on top of him. once again, the lewd position makes you blush. you cage his neck with your thighs and face his cock. you make the first move, licking up and down the shaft. you give a guttural moan when a swipes a long lick up your center. you can't help but pull your mouth off and stare back at him.

"keep goin,' baby," he gruffly tells you and you try your best to continue.

it's proven much more easy for steve to eat you out than it is for you to suck his dick. he seems completely unshaken to your ministrations, leaving you confused if this is even pleasurable for him at all, meanwhile you're trying your hardest to keep yourself together as he eats you out.

steve smothers his face into your cunt, moaning like it's more arousing than you sucking him off. one particularly harsh suck on your clit has you gushing on his face. it doesn't matter if you've come already, he just keeps going. you try your best to keep a pace of stroking him while sucking on the tip but it just ends with you only being able to kitten lick all around him.

he shakes his head into your pussy, giving you a nice feel of his beard, and you're close again. "ah! steve!" you cry.

then he stops. "what's my name, baby girl?"

"d-daddy," you correct yourself. and he grunts against your clit, making you come all over again.

the stimulation is too much at this point. you try to move away from his body but his strong hands have such a firm grasp on your ass that renders you practically immobile. you can feel the rim of his glasses rubbing against your clit as he shakes his head. "daddy, please — ah — s' too much.."

the only response he gives is a growl into your cunt as he begins to thrust that long tongue inside of you, effectively making you come for the third time on his face. that's when he decides you've had enough. he guides you so that you roll over next to him on the bed.

"you didn't finish," you say with a pout.

"didn't want to," he says, staring up at the ceiling. "just wanted to make you feel better."

#fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x reader #william afton smut

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slippinmickeys · 9 months ago

Text

Bonus Old Chem Prompt

For Nicole.

1. “So what’s your area of study?” he said. “I can’t believe I haven’t thought to ask.”

They were walking to their cars, so late that it could properly be called early. The storm cells had finished passing through by midnight, and the air was as humid and thick as hot soup. She nudged him companionably with her shoulder.

They had talked all night, but the storm and the dark and the mood had leant the night an air of confidence, and they’d talked about big-picture stuff; hopes, fears, childhood traumas, until Scully began to yawn and the weather outside had quieted. All the stuff you talk about once you get past the getting-to-know-you phase had been hashed out and argued. All that was left were the details.

“I study the chemical processes of negligible and negative senescence,” she said.

His mental rolodex whirled until the right catalog card came up. He looked down at her in wonder.

“Immortality?” he said, unable to keep the intrigue out of his voice.

“Close enough.”

“That’s wild.”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,” she said impishly. Then, “This is me.”

She stopped in front of a silver Volkswagen Passat, and Mulder pivoted until he was standing in front of her.

“I enjoyed my time in the dark with you,” he said, his voice a little low.

“Let’s do it again,” she said, and then lifted herself up onto her toes and pressed her lips into his, lingering there.

When she finally pulled away, he was a little lightheaded and dazed.

“I’d like that,” he finally managed to say.

2. “I used to be married,” she said, her nose pressed into the bare skin of his bicep.

They had kicked off all but the sheet and she was still coming down from the high of a shared climax, her leg still thrown over both of his.

Mulder’s first thought was widow, because this was not a woman you lost if you could help it.

He was trying to figure out how to ask when she went on.

“He lives in Seattle now.”

It was a Sunday, and sheaves of the newspaper they’d been passing back and forth were strewn half on the bed and half on the floor. The last wisps of steam were wafting up from cups of coffee on either side of the bed and an uneaten croissant sat on a plate under a wedge of sunlight.

“What’s his name?” Mulder asked her quietly. He’s not sure why that was his first question, but it was.

“Ethan,” she said.

She knew all about Diana, their almost-wedding, her affairs and blow-ups and his disastrous attempts to make excuses for her. His years of swearing off women.

“Is it bad that I didn’t tell you?”

He reached out with the arm she was pressed to and pulled her until her head was resting on his chest.

“We’ve only been dating a month,” he said. “I’m sure there’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”

At this, they both chuckled. They’d shared more than most couples who’d been together five times as long.

“What happened?” he asked.

“We wanted the same things,” she said. “In the bedroom.” And before he could ask if she meant to say the word different, she finished with: “Namely, men.”

Mulder clenched his teeth. “Ouch,” he said.

She shrugged a shoulder into his armpit. “We’re still friends.”

Mulder had to tilt his head back to look down at her.

“I’m friends with his husband Bruce, too.”

3. She slunk into the back of the lecture hall fifteen minutes before class was up and lowered herself into an empty chair on the upper right.

“So we’ve gone over our long list of elements of psychopathology,” he went on with his lecture. “Let’s touch on some of the basic causes before we break for the day. Broad strokes stuff, here. Anyone want to offer something up?”

A girl in front with perfect posture raised her hand.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“Genetics?” she asked.

“Yep, genetics.” He wrote this on the whiteboard.

An older looking student in the middle offered up: “Are there social causes?”

“Sure are,” Mulder said, and wrote social on the board as well.

“Anyone else? I’ll start calling on people, I’m not as shy as you,” he went on. A few people chuckled.

He pointed at one of the laughers. “What have you got?”

“Um…psychological?” the kid said.

A couple more people chuckled at this answer, and Mulder wrote it on the board.

“This is a 101 level lecture, guys, don’t laugh at Jeremy. It’s okay to use the name of the class in the class. There are plenty of psychological causes of psychopathology. It’s in the title.”

To his left, his TA yawned and looked at his watch. Mulder flitted his eyes up to Scully, who seemed to be enjoying watching him. Suddenly he couldn’t care less about the class and just wanted to be with her.

“Last one and you guys can get out of here. Anybody?”

A few people looked around the room to see if anyone was going to answer.

“Nobody?” he called out.

From the back of the small auditorium, he heard a familiar, welcome voice.

“Biology!” Scully called out.

Mulder couldn’t help but smile. “A personal favorite,” he said, and turned to write it on the whiteboard.

Kids were already folding their laptops and shoving notebooks in backpacks.

“Okay, yes, I said I’d let you go.” The volume of shuffling and movement went up and he had to raise his voice a bit to be heard over it. “Assigned reading is in the syllabus. I won’t be available for office hours at the normal times next week, so reach out to Gary,” at this he pointed at his TA, though most of the students were already on their way out the lecture hall, “to set something up. Have a good long weekend!”

He moved behind the podium to grab his phone and his own laptop, and when he looked up, Scully was on her way down the steps, fighting the current of retreating students.

“Hey,” he said as she approached, and he swung his bag over his shoulder and, with a glance up to see if anyone was paying attention (they weren’t), leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. He fell into step with her, heading for the rarely used exit at the bottom of the lecture hall.

“Hey,” she said, smiling up at him. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you,” he replied, reaching forward to hold open the door so that she could walk through.

“How was your trip?”

“Good,” he said. “Uneventful.”

“You’re back for a bit now, right?” she said. “Before your next thingy?” She looked a little anxious when she asked. She must have something on her mind.

“The technical term,” he said, as they stepped into the flow of student traffic in the hallway that led to the front of the building. “About that. I actually had a question for you.”

“Oh?” she said.

“You first,” he said, pulling to a stop in the foyer of the building. “You look like you had something else you wanted to ask?”

She averted her gaze from his, which was unusual. “My parents invited us over for dinner,” she said. “I told them about you. And they want to meet you. If that’s okay.”

Mulder rocked back a little on his heels. Diana’s folks had died before they got together and he hadn’t had any girlfriends before her serious enough for parental vetting. The last time he’d met a woman’s parents, he was standing in Missy Sander’s living room pinning a homecoming corsage on her velvet dress while her mother hovered nearby.

Nevertheless, Scully was important to him, and her parents were important to her.

“I’d love to,” he said, smiling, and noted the relieved slump of her shoulders.

“Great,” she breathed. “I told them it might not be until after the holidays. We’ll both have midterms to grade and then things usually get crazy.”

“Whenever you want,” Mulder said gamely. “I’ll bring a nice bottle of wine and be on my best behavior.”

She smiled up at him warmly.

“You said you had a question for me?”

“I did,” he said, grabbing her coat from her hands and holding it up so that she could shrug into it. He put on his directly after, and then held open the door for her to exit into the cold, brisk day.

“So I’m the faculty advisor to the ski club,” he went on.

She gave him a look. “You never told me this.”

“It’s not normally very interesting. Anyway, the club is heading to a resort up north over the long weekend, and the school will pay for my lift tickets. Any chance you want to join me?”

“You ski?” she asked. Her incredulity was amusing.

“It’s literally the club’s only requisite for an advisor,” he admitted. “Do you?”

“Not once in my whole life. I’m from San Diego, Mulder.”

“California has mountains.”

“And I’ve never been on them. But a resort sounds like it might be nice…Are there fireplaces? Hot tubs?”

“More than you can count,” he answered, picturing her in a bikini, picturing her reading a book while lounging on a bearskin rug.

“Then I’d love to join you,” she smiled at him, the vapor of her breath dissipating in front of her.

4. The resort was sprawling, the main lodge done up in the Bavarian style, which was only a little off putting as they were in the only high country in the Midwest. Fairly large hills rose up above the roof of the lodge, covered in snow and dotted with skiers and snowboarders. Several chairlifts served the hills (they could not accurately be called ‘mountains’), spaced at even intervals amongst the small range.

“I have to admit it’s charming,” Scully said, when they walked in, most of the people around them clomping around in hard ski boots.

The interior decor was dated. Old wooden skis were crossed on the wall over the front desk, and vintage ski posters decorated the walls, and all, Scully assumed, had been up since they were new. The staff was friendly, though, and when they walked into their room, she was doubly impressed.

“Mulder,” she said, nearly speechless.

He closed the door behind her, smiling. He had splurged and sprung for the nicest suite they had (complete with updated decor) – the only one with both a fireplace and its own hot tub, which was on a large balcony that overlooked the ski hills.

“Does the university know they’re paying for this?” she asked.

“I get a small lodging stipend,” he explained. “I may have chipped in a little of my own money.”

“A little?” she said, moving into the room and picking up a bottle of champagne that was waiting on ice for them along with a couple of local chocolates and a dozen red roses.

“The stipend probably covers the champagne and two of the roses,” he said, sidling up to her and sliding a hand across her belly.

She turned in his arms until she was facing him.

“Then let’s get your money’s worth,” she purred.

5. It was the first full day of the trip, and the students of the club had invited them to join them in the bar in the basement of the lodge. It had equally dated decor, but a small stage in the corner with a decent band who was playing 90’s hits at a reasonable volume.

The club–made up of a dozen kids–more guys than girls–was on their fifth pitcher of beer and showing no signs of slowing down. Mulder and Scully had already had a couple cups each, but were settling in, watching the shenanigans with benevolent bemusement. The table was littered with empty cups and pitchers, along with a scattered detritus of ski gear; helmets with mirrored goggles, gloves, a few errant neckwarmers.

Patrick Fitzpatrick, a senior, and the president of the Ski Club held up his beer to Mulder while nodding at Scully, who sat demurely next to him in a coat that was very obviously not ready to hit the slopes.

“So Dr. Mulder,” he called out past the four people sitting in between them. “How long have you and Dr. Scully been going out?”

All other conversation at the table stopped in a decidedly record-scratch-like moment. All eyes shifted to them.

Fitzpatrick had taken a few of Mulder’s classes–enough to think he was cool enough to ask to be the club’s advisor–though Mulder wasn’t sure his major required anything but the most remedial science credits. Scully’s job was research based, and the few classes she taught were mostly 400 and graduate level. Only one of the kids in the club had ever had her as a professor. Scully had barely left their suite–he’d wondered how they even knew she was on the trip when they’d asked Mulder if both of them wanted to come and hang out.

Mulder cleared his throat and looked to Scully, asking silent permission. She snorted a small laugh and took a slug of beer.

“A few months,” he answered, looking around the table.

Molly, the one girl who’d taken classes from Scully, looked away with an abashed smile.

“And how long do you think you might continue dating?” Fitzpatrick burped.

Mulder nearly laughed out loud. The kid was a putz, came from Chicago money, but he had a mien that could charm the socks off a horse with white feet.

“At least as long as it’ll take you to graduate, Fitzpatrick,” Mulder answered. “How many credits shy are you? You know you have to actually pass a class for them to count.”

The table erupted in laughter, everyone beginning to take shots at Fitzpatrick, who took on the ribbing with gracious humor. Next to him, Scully pulled out her phone which was buzzing, took a look at the display and stood.

“I have to take this,” she whispered in his ear, slipping away while the table was still abuzz with jubilant teasing.

She came back about ten minutes later, her face long and ashen. She held her phone in her hand limply.

“Scully?” he said, half standing from his seat when he saw her.

The few people sitting near Mulder noticed and the table quieted down quickly.

“It’s my Dad,” she said, swallowing thickly.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“No,” she said, shaking her head, shocky. “He’s dead.”

#fanfic #the x-files #my fic #msr #au #prompt #asks #old chem universe

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andkisses · 1 year ago

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♡ warmth, gold, and honey | jungwon ♡

prompt: You’re actually a really friendly and chill vampire and at night you float around outside of my bedroom window to talk with me about the universe and stuff

♡ jungwon x gn!reader | wc. 1.8k ♡ genres/tropes: vampire!jungwon, human!reader, college!au, some fluff, some confessions, a kiss ♡ mentions of/warnings: mentions of a cheating ex, i think that’s all? also one pet name usage ♡ a/n: meant to post this at halloween but forgot i had it lol a rewrite of something i had written a long time ago but never posted, enjoy <3 tfw u extend a drabble from 517 words to nearly four times that lol

♡ masterlist ♡

When you first met him, you were terrified. Who wouldn’t be? Everything you’d ever heard about his kind sent chills down your spine and made you want to curl up and hide and never leave. You didn’t even know what he really was then. He was just there, tall and intimidating as hell. You really shouldn’t have come to this party. You should be back at your place, studying for your next exam. A boring life was a safe, vampire-free life, yeah?

But after you met Yang Jungwon and learned his secret truth, your perspective on things changed quite drastically. It happened quite fast, actually, this change of heart. Vampires weren’t 100% scary anymore—though, don’t get it confused, Jungwon, as fair as he may be, could turn scary in an instant. They were merely beings who had memories of great history, and an incredible knack for storytelling.

On nights you couldn’t sleep—because of life, or a test, or that stupid boy who cheated on you—you’d call him and ask for a story. And every time, without question, he’d oblige, honeyed voice coming through the receiver. The stories Jungwon told were so fantastical, so imaginative, it was hard for you to believe they could have ever been true. But, then again, you were hearing them from a real life vampire, so who’s to say what’s real and what’s not?

Eventually, though, your restless nights start to concern him. You try brushing it off, say it was just a phase because that’s just how life is, or an important incoming exam, or because your stupid ex who cheated on you really, really hurt you. You stop calling, too, spending long moonless nights alone and in silence with nothing but the darkness to keep you company. You could try to remember the stories he told you, but your memory always dulls in comparison.

But if there’s anything you’ve learned after meeting Yang Jungwon, out of everything he’s told you or shown you, it’s that he’s good at reading people.

And he’s especially good at reading you.

Another restless night, paging through a chem textbook you’re too exhausted to even try to understand. The only light coming from your desk lamp, and whatever moonlight could filter down through the fire escape. Not that it was much escape, though, with the last bit of ladder broken and still not replaced. Maybe you should have splurged a little more for an off-campus apartment, or gone halfsies with someone else.

But you do enjoy your apartment, as small and as dingy as it is. It’s yours, even if you still feel like you have to clean extra hard because of him.

When you hear a tap on your window and see him floating outside, a happy smile on his face with a teasing expression to his eyes, you really aren’t as surprised as you expect yourself to be. As you should have been. You let him in, pushing the window up before Jungwon slips in like a lithe Peter Pan. He’s feet gently land on your floor, and while he’s still tall, there’s nothing intimidating about Jungwon now. You dare say he’s the exact opposite for you.

He surveys your room with a blank expression before another smile overtakes his features.

“No wonder you can’t sleep,” he says, a small tsk-tsk in his voice. “The front of the building from when I dropped you off is much nicer. Your room is boring—no stories at all.”

“That’s not true!” you reply, pointing to your shelf full of knickknacks and memories and photographs you’d taken over the years. Some places decidedly empty, a symbolic representation of your heart, but nonetheless–stuff!

“Not those stories, silly,” Jungwon chides. He reaches to take your hand, and it sends a chill straight to your heart, the spark it causes and the warmth you feel. Another thing you learned from knowing him–those stories about vampires being cold? Just a silly myth. Jungwon squeezes your hand again. “I mean stories like these.”

With a wave of his hand, a glittering scene appears in the empty space in front of you. An ocean slowly eats away at the shiny shore, everything bathed in the warm, vibrant colors of sunset. You can even hear the waves and smell the salty sea air, seagulls cawing in the distance. The golden glow of the image warms even the darkest corners of your room. You reach for the image, but your hand falls through.

“How did you—?” You look up at him, mouth slightly agape.

Jungwon laughs, a small one that lifts your heart, and uses his free hand to tap at his temple. “Magic,” he chimes with a wink, and now you’re both laughing.

By three in the morning, long after he’d shown up, you’re side by side on your bed, staring at the ceiling as Jungwon plants image after image. Each with their own story he whispers just for you. He even teaches you how to bring them back on your own, with your own brand of mundane magic.

“For whenever you need them,” he whispers, holding your hand close to his heart. “For whenever I can’t be near.”

You blink, and your throat catches at the idea of Jungwon not being here. You scan his face, the features you’ve made yourself very familiar with. You may not be able to recall Jungwon’s stories in color, but you’ve always been able to recall him in sparkling detail. You start to wonder about things, creating a timeline in your head as you gaze back up at the ceiling. Jungwon had told a story of star crossed lovers who actually ended up together. The glittery image of them sitting side by side, staring out into the ocean, curled into one another stares back at you.

You think about the night you met Jungwon, the night you’d your ex–then your boyfriend–making out and cheating on you with someone else in the corner of the kitchen. You’d gone in for more ice, and ended up shattering your reality as you knew. Then, you met a vampire, so maybe that night was destined to be odd.

You think about what’s happened since, the tentative friendship you find blossoming between you two. Jungwon attends your university–which you find stupid because why would you voluntarily submit yourself to such torture as organic chemistry–but Jungwon tells you it’s to see people, see how they’ve changed and how they’ve stayed the same since he’d turned.

“Besides,” Jungwon had said, tapping his pen against his temple when you’d gone to study together after class, “I already know just about everything. Makes test taking really easy.”

You think about how much you truly enjoy being in Jungwon’s company. How he sets you at ease, makes you laugh. The stories he tells, how he seems to have them only for you. You think about right now, his shoulder and knees pressed against your own. How he holds your hand against his heart. How he’s still watching you when you turn back to him, eyes soft and delicate.

As are his words when he asks, barely above a whisper, “What are you thinking about?”

You decide to be honest. “You.”

Jungwon blinks, eyes quickly going over your face, a small smile teasing the corner of his lips. His hold on your hand tightens just that much. “Why?”

“Because…” Your words fall short. Is this really where this conversation is going? You could overthink it to the moon and back, but you already know it would change your mind. There’s a reason you can feel the tips of your ears burning, a reason being so close to him makes your heart race. You stare into his eyes, so sweet and homey, and tell the truth. “I think I like you, Jungwon. A lot.”

He flashes you that brilliant smile, the one you know is just for you, the one that makes your heart lurch. “You like me?” he echoes through a smile. Then, he tilts his head, teasing. “Or my stories?”

You pull your hand free to whack him in the chest, earning you laughter. “I pour my heart out and this is the thanks I get?”

Jungwon’s hand, now free from holding yours, reaches across to cup your cheek. “Darling,” he says, and you feel your skin beneath his touch burn, “you did not pour your heart out. You told the truth, which is good. But pouring your heart out?” He shakes his head softly, turned towards you against the pillow.

Somehow, you’ve both gone from flat on your back to on your side, facing each other. You pout, even if your heart sings at how Jungwon is looking at you. “Then what does pouring your heart out look like, hm?”

Jungwon smiles, something sly and cunning, as if he’s waited a long time for this. “Well, I think it would sound something like this.” He pauses a moment before going on. “It’s how when I first saw you at the party, I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. Then I gathered you were already seeing someone, but then to see you cry? Because of what he did to you?”

Jungwon frowns at the memory. “Then we found each other at school, and we kept talking, and talking. And somewhere you found about me, but you didn’t care. And I told you stories every time you called because I needed an excuse to hear your voice or make you laugh. Because it was the best thing I could hear. Then, you stopped calling. And I didn’t expect it to hurt so much.”

“Why?” you ask without even trying. It slips out in a pause in Jungwon’s speech.

He smiles, using his thumb to softly rub back and forth on your cheek. “I didn’t expect it to hurt because I’ve done this before–shared stories with people,” he says. “To be honest, it took me a while to figure out what was wrong, because I hadn’t felt it. At least not in a long time. When I realized it’s because I like you a lot, I had to figure out something to do.”

You can’t help but stare. “You like me back?”

“I fear I may love you,” he says softly, and you feel a knot in your stomach. He moves closer, using his hand on your cheek to tilt your chin up towards him, his lips a breath away from yours. You try to remind yourself to breathe. Your hand reaches out to cling to his shirt. “I’ve met so, so many people in my years, and then I met you. And you were suddenly everything that was missing, and I can’t help but think that…”

“That we’re meant to be?”

In the time you’ve known him, you’ve almost always associated Jungwon with warmth. First, him dispelling that silly legend about vampires being cold, or even heartless. You’d heard it the first time he enveloped you in a hug, when you broke down crying explaining what your ex had done to you. Then, his stories, his honeyed voice painting fantastical stories over the phone. The magic he has, producing the glittery golden scenes around you. His hand, so tender and gentle as it cups your cheek, fingers pressing delicate against the nape of your neck.

But Jungwon’s kisses? The warmest of them all.

#kdiarynet #kwritersworld #kflixnet #k-labels #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarioes #enhypen imagines #jungwon fluff #jungwon headcanons #jungwon scenarioes #jungwon imagines #enhypen #prose #fluff #vampire!au #au #college!au #all

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neptoons1998 · 1 year ago

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Study Date

A/N: I made some smut cause I want to feed y'all.

MINORS DNI

Tag Gang: @s0lam33y @mal-urameshi @xchoxix

Summary: Shuri came to visit Riri to help her "study" for her chem test this friday.

“Fuck~!” Riri cried out as she felt the strap going inside her. How did Riri let Shuri fuck her? Riri had no idea. Shuri was supposed to help her with studying with her chem test she was going to have friday. All Riri knew Shuri was using one the straps that made her full. At this rate, Shuri is trying to get her pregnant.

“You’re so cute when you’re beneath me, my love,” she whispers as she leans over to plant kisses along Riri’s collarbone. She whines almost pathetically as she does so poorly trying to start moving. Shuri couldn’t help herself but smirk at her love. Little does she know she is everything to me, Shuri thought as the woman giggled.

Riri’s face shined with sweat, her pupils swallowed her iris- only leaving a thin ring of brown. Riri gritted her teeth as she tried her best position to entice Shuri into giving.

Oh, She thought she was telling what Shuri to do? How adorable.

“No moving,” Shuri commands. “I never said you could, did I?”

Riri whimpers in response as she grabs her wrists and pins them above her head.

“Don’t make change my mind on not tying you up,” Shuri said causing Riri to whimper out again. “No that would be too mean of me, wouldn’t it be my love? But you looking desperate is so-” Shuri licked her lips, “Beautiful. No one besides me gets to see you like this.” Shuri moves to where her lips are right beside Riri’s ear, “I want you to be desperate until you know nothing but my name.”

“ P-please~!” Riri begs.

Shuri smirked as she looked at her love. Riri pleads like a worshipper to their goddess. All because she wanted to be fucked. She’s never leaving my side Shuri thought.

“Okay, my love. I'll go harder,” Shuri complies, her hips withdrawing and then snapping so quickly and forcefully that her partner lets out a loud moan.

“You’re being too loud my love,” Shuri ordered, “ You don’t want your classmates to know how much of a slut you are.”

“N-no,” Riri commented as she tried to clamp down her voice. Shuri was about to tease her girlfriend until she remembered something.

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot,” she says as she slows her thrusting, careful to not let Riri have the taste of her orgasm just yet.

Not now.

“Mm?” Riri responds, her mind half was gone at this point.

“You have your final exams on Friday, don’t you?” She questions rhetorically. Shuri already knew the answer. Shuri remeber Riri complaining about it last week, not wanting to take the test.

Shuri lightly twists and pulls Riri’s clit. The strap is still inside her love, “Aww, you don’t have to answer, my love,” she coos. “Of course, you do. And I know you’ll get an A+, my scholar.”

Riri’s eyes blurred no thoughts between her eyes. Drooling slightly but not strong enough to give Shuri a response.

“Please- S-shuri,” Riri begged as she wrapped her legs around Shuri’s waist. Shuri couldn’t say no after all a good queen is only good for her people.

“You’re going to cum untouched,” Shuri directed Riri as she continued to snap her hips back. Riri wasn’t able to keep up as she continued to moan and pant against Shuri’s pace.

“Ah,” Riri cries into the sheets as lightning shocks through her. Shuri slipped out of her as Riri stilling the aftershock of her intense orgasm. Shuri took off the strap and went into the bathroom to help clean up her love. Riri laid on her side as Shuri took care of her. She could feel herself slowly drifting off to sleep. Riri was trying to stay awake.

Shuri slipped a bonnet on Riri’s head, “Go to sleep my love.”

“But I wanna to be with you,” Riri mumbled out. Shuri softly shushed her girlfriend. Shuri knew the distance was hard for the both of them, but they would be together again soon this summer.

“I’ll be here,” Shuri said as she kiss her forehead.

#fanfiction #riri williams #ao3 #shuriri #shuri x riri #fanfic #shuri udaku #they are in love your honor #they are in love <3 #they are so cute #i would die for them #smut #wlw smut

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pucksandpower · 27 days ago

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Hello, I’m a serious in high school right now, and I just wanted to ask you what you think it’s the best like major and minor to take for medicine. I’m not really the smartest person which makes all of these things so much harder, I know it’s usually like bio or chem, I took bio 4 years ago so I don’t really know if I want to take that or not, but I did really bad in AP chemistry (mostly bc my teacher didn’t teach) but yeah, it’s really hard planning what you want to do with your life and so I was wondering if you had some thoughts or tips on that. Thank you!!

This is a tough question because the path to medical school that best suits your individual needs will vary widely person to person.

One thing you do have to understand is that no matter what you major in, both biology and chemistry will be a huge part of your undergraduate curriculum because of the prerequisites you have to complete in order to be eligible to apply to any medical school. Courses like Biology I and II, Chemistry I and II, Organic Chemistry I and II, Biochemistry, and Anatomy and Physiology are pretty standard requirements across the board.

So if you don’t want to study a major that will focus solely on this, that’s completely fine! But no matter what you choose to concentrate on, biology and chemistry will still be a large portion of your course work in a pre-medical trajectory.

I know plenty of pre-meds and medical students who majored in sociology, anthropology, and psychology, so those are all majors I think might be interesting for you to consider 🫶

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secretobsessionstuff · 10 months ago

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nawwwhh man you aint gotta feel bad about not doin sicktember. im bein real here, i thought i was and i did like 3, so i aint either. but if you really do want me to request one, i'd probably do psychogenic fever/stress induced illness with madix bein sickie bc itd relate to me personally the most (bc i always get stress sick and i'd love to see madix sick witb it too (bonis point if dakota take care of him GOD i loved the fic where dakote took care of him))

Hey man, thanks for always being there and loving my fics. I hope you like this one even though it's nearly two fucking years late I swear.

This fic is set in the past when Madix and Dakota are in school together.

CW: Graphic description of vomiting! It's seriously so gross I love it lol.

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

A flood of relieved students rushed past Dakota. He swam against the current looking for Madix among the test-takers. Since it was 2pm, they were no longer test-takers, but the sea of knowledge inside their brains would still be there until the PTSD of organic chemistry was washed away by time.

Dakota knew how anxious Madix had been for this final. The dreaded Orgo Chem kept his roommate up for the past three nights. It was a known fact that this second-year course was a killer, and Madix’s prof was a distinguished serial killer. Many students retook Orgo in the summer, trying for that passing grade with perhaps a more lenient prof.

With the hallway now empty—all the students having left—it was easy for Dakota to find Madix. He hadn’t expected his friend to stick around after the final was over, but there he was sitting on the floor by the large windows. Madix looked like a crab, trying to find safety in the shell of his hunched over back. He had his head in his hands and was rubbing his temples as if the trauma of the exam pooled behind his eyes.

“Hey, how did it go?” It was a very pointless question given that Madix was curled into a question mark.

“Fuck if I know,” Madix slurred as he slid his hands down his face. “I keep going over every question, doubting my answers.”

“Well, it’s over now so you don’t need to think about it.” It worried Dakota how glassy and fragile Madix’s eyes looked, like he was about to cry or explode into flames. His cheeks were pale and sunken too.

“I need a 73 to pass the class.”

Dakota squinted. “Mmh sounds like you’re still thinking about it.”

Madix dropped his hands to his side. “I can’t stop. That exam is all I’ve been thinking about for the last week. I haven’t even had time to study for Anatomy tomorrow.”

With a sigh, Dakota sat down on the floor next to his friend. “I brought you something to take your mind off studying.” From behind his back, Dakota revealed a fast-food bag from the student lounge. It was Madix’s favourite place to get comfort food because of the crispy fries, the juicy burger, and the creamy milkshake. Madix didn’t like to indulge that craving too often because it was a greasy cheat meal that often left him feeling bloated, but Dakota thought it would be a nice gesture since Madix had hardly eaten anything leading up to this exam.

He was about to hand his friend the grease-wrapped gift, but hesitated. The heat coming off Madix’s body was alarming. Dakota could feel the waves just sitting next to him. A quick touch to Madix’s forehead with the back of his hand told Dakota that he’d been neglecting his roommate.

“Shit, Mads, you’re burning up. I didn’t know you were sick all this time.”

“I’m not sick.” Like a starving animal, Madix reached for the bag of food, but Dakota held it out of his reach.

“Bullshit. You can deny it all you want, but your head’s on fire, buddy.”

“I know.”

Dakota couldn’t stop his lecture now, as if the two of them hadn’t heard enough lecturing the whole year. “You’re the one in pre-med, you should know—wait what?”

Madix sighed at the theatrics of his friend. “I’ve had a fever for three days. It’s not going away.” He rubbed his own forehead, feeling the familiar yet puzzling temperature. “I don’t have any other symptoms. I think it’s from stress.”

It was honestly the oddest feeling. Madix could feel himself cooking from the inside. His cells buzzed like the many diagrams of excited particles when submitted to heat. But there was nothing else to indicate a virus or infection. His throat was fine; his nose was clear. If anything, he was infected with school. Perhaps his nose was clogged with equations and his throat was sore from reciting textbook chapters.

Dakota looked skeptical. “So, you gave yourself a fever from worrying?”

“Yes, it’s a medical mystery. They should name a disease after me. Anyway, gimme burger.” Madix reached for the food like a child with grubby fingers.

Dakota scooted away from his friend, taking the prize with him. “I don’t know, Mads. You really don’t look well. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to eat something so heavy.”

“Come on. You know I’ve been surviving on goldfish crackers.” It was only now that he could smell the fries and beef that Madix realized how hungry he was. His stomach was aching for something substantial. “Besides, I need the energy to study for Anatomy. It’s tomorrow by the way.”

“Tomorrow? But you just had orgo.”

“I have a shit exam schedule this year.” Madix pouted. “Please, Kota. It will make me feel better.”

Finally, Dakota relented. He had bought it for Madix after all. But now he was worried that it was the exact opposite of what the overworked boy needed.

He watched Madix stuff his face with his first real meal in 72 hours. The burger disappeared in record time. Fatty juices glistened on Madix’s chin as he dug into the fries. His fingers were coated in grease and fry seasoning by the time he was done. In between each mouthful, he took longs slurps of the Oreo milkshake.

“You wanna slow down there, bud?” Dakota asked incredulously. There wasn’t much more to eat at this point.

Madix dragged his sleeve over his mouth and shook his head. “Have to start studying soon.” He swallowed the last bite of fries and sucked at the last remnants of the milkshake. Madix let out a long burp at the end and sighed.

“I’m not gonna lie, that was impressive.” Dakota couldn’t believe his eyes. “You’re getting more colour in your cheeks.” Maybe the meal really had been a good thing. “But I’m still worried about this voodoo fever though.”

“It won’t go away until the exams do.”

‘Then neither will I.” Dakota stood firm in this decision. He wasn’t going to let Madix get burnt out…literally. His hardest exams were done, so he could keep a closer eye on Madix now. “I’ll study with you in the library.”

“You don’t have to, Kota. I’ll be fine.”

“I want to.”

By the tone of Dakota’s voice, Madix could tell that he wasn’t going to win this one. “Fine, but we’re studying in the red zone.”

“Not the red zone! Anything but that.”

Madix shrugged. “You’re the one who insisted on babysitting.”

• • •

The red zone was the fourth circle of hell—also known as the library during exam season.

It was the quietest level of the building, reserved exclusively for students to study in absolute silence. No talking, no phones, you couldn’t even sneeze without getting dirty looks. You could hear a pencil drop and then watch that pencil be escorted out of the red zone.

As someone with ADHD, Dakota hated the red zone. He much preferred the orange or yellow zone. At least in the orange zone, you could whisper and cough without being shunned. The yellow zone allowed for conversation and anxious tapping. He admitted that the green zone was definitely not ideal for studying. That was the first level of the library were students could openly cry over their exams or practice for their theater final that involved a murder scene.

Dakota pretended to zip his lips and throw away the key. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from moving on their own.

Madix on the other hand had no issue keeping his mouth shut. The nausea forced his lips together.

The fast food was quickly catching up to him, staying true to its name even inside his stomach. It hadn’t taken long before the burger, fries, and milkshake resisted digestion. The meal churned in his belly like a wad of chewing gum.

The red zone was popular during this time of year, so Madix and Dakota hunted for two chairs next to each other. They found a long table with many students already studying there, but luckily there were two empty spots across from each other. Madix was grateful to be sitting across from Dakota so that he could rub his upset stomach discreetly.

Unfortunately, the red zone was not a good place to have a gurgly tummy. The girl next to Madix gave him the stink eye when the organ groaned, tossing chewed up cow inside his gut. He felt grease sticking to his throat and hot burps in his chest. He pushed down every belch lest he be escorted out of the level.

The words of the anatomy textbook swam across the page. Madix felt his fever ignite with a vengeance. Now he was dizzy, disoriented, and disgustingly full. There was heat behind his eyes that turned his vision to soup. Everything he needed to know for the exam was right in front of him in the book, but the letters became alphabet stew on a white background.

He dared not look up at his friend in fear that Dakota would see right through him.

Dakota could not study in such an environment, so naturally he saw every twinge of nausea flash across Madix’s expression. His poor friend was not having a good time. Madix’s cheeks were now flushed bright red, and beads of sweat gathered on his brow.

In the dead quiet of the library, he could hear Madix’s stomach struggle to digest the heavy meal. Dakota kicked himself for giving into Madix’s begging. The nausea was no doubt thwarting his efforts at studying which created a vicious cycle of stress and pain.

Dakota did a quick doodle in his notebook and passed it to Madix. He was quite proud of his drawing and had to keep in a chuckle.

Madix frowned at the drawing. Along the top were the words Green Zone Now? Below Dakota’s messy handwriting was a drawing of a green-faced emoji. Its cheeks were ballooned with vomit. It seemed he wasn’t hiding his ailment so well.

On the same page, Madix wrote back I’m fine. Must study. Madix didn’t think he needed to go to the green zone, despite what his complexion said. He could control his stomach. The food would stay down; it had to.

Dakota gave Madix a disappointed look when he got the note back. Why must he be so stubborn? Dakota had to drop the matter. Aside from physically picking up his friend, he didn’t see any other way of convincing Madix to take a break for the sake of his health. He wasn’t going to be making any compelling arguments in the red zone.

Madix tried to ignore his blistering fever and his unhappy guts.

Systemic Anatomy was hard to study for when he was so keenly aware of his digestive system. He imagined partially digested fries mixing with the gastric juices in his belly. His body went through the steps with much difficulty.

The muscular organ was literally in the process of contracting itself to squeeze all the nutrients out of the fast food. Madix did not like the squeezing. He hugged his aching middle and laid his head on the table in defeat.

It didn’t seem likely that the food would continue on to his intestines. His stomach couldn’t handle the greasy meal after days of hardly anything to eat. On top of all this, his body was too busy fighting a made-up virus called stress. The stress was very real, but his immune system was taking it too literally. It was no wonder why he couldn’t keep the meal down.

Madix couldn’t stop the burp from coming up. It burst from his mouth, splashing the back of his throat with acid. The girl next to him shushed him. Her expression was as sour as his stomach. He didn’t have the will to apologize for the noise. Regardless, he wouldn’t have had the chance to say sorry anyway because another burp filled his mouth with sticky saliva.

Dakota looked up quickly to see Madix hunched over his chair and gagging into his hand. Another sickly belch bubbled up, draining the colour from Madix’s face.

Before Dakota could do anything, he watched Madix lurch forward with a loud heave. Thick vomit spewed from his mouth and fell onto the table in front of him. The sick quickly spilled onto Madix’s lap.

“Oh, shit Maddy,” Dakota cooed as he came to his friend’s side. He didn’t bother with the anti-social etiquette of the red zone, not that it mattered though because everyone in their vicinity bolted from the room. No one wanted to risk catching whatever Madix had during their exams.

Madix coughed and sputtered. Scandalous! He could only moan miserably before the muscles in his belly contracted again, sending up another wave of mushy fries and curdled milkshake. Dark flecks of Oreo and beef dotted the sick.

“Oh God…” Madix choked out. “I can’t stop.”

Dakota rubbed his friend’s back while trying not to look at the growing pool of vomit that was…everywhere. “It’s okay, buddy. Just let it out.” The same heat from before lived beneath Madix’s skin. Dakota could feel the fever through his clothes. “No one is here. You’re good. Do what you need to do.”

Madix’s belly gave another deep lurch. The pressure forced the undigested food up his open esophagus. If this wasn’t the best way to study the digestive system, then Madix didn’t know what else to do besides open himself up like a cadaver.

His fever made the room spin around him. If he had any sort of receptacle, he probably would have missed. Luckily, he had no issue catching his notebook, his lap, and his shoes in the process.

“Good job,” Dakota encouraged. He patted Madix’s back firmly. “Get it all out. Get that stress out too while you’re at it.”

Madix had to admit that there was something cathartic about this purge. He felt lighter with each bout that left his body. He gave over to his subconscious mind and let his body do what it needed to do. He probably should have listened to the hunger and sleep cues before this, but he was listening now to the Get Out cues.

If stressed looked like a melted Oreo milkshake then it was certainly no longer in his body. He tried to imagine the pressure and the expectations and the need for validation leaving his body along with the vomit.

When Madix caught a break, he couldn’t help but give a chuckle. “This is the red zone. I just puked in the red zone.”

Dakota laughed with him. “All over it really.” He looked around at the empty room. “You scared everyone away. They must think you have the plague.”

“I think we’re all infected with it. This pressure—it’s an epidemic, man.”

“Don’t go turning into a philosopher.” Dakota took a step back from his friend. It wasn’t a good view, but he was happy to see Madix’s shoulders relaxed. “Do you need anything? Water? Sleep?”

“Both.” Madix slowly stood up from his chair, cringing at the wetness that made his shirt cling to his body. “But I think I better find someone who works here.” Madix rubbed the back of his neck. “Guess I should have listened to you, huh?”

“Let’s discuss my vast amount of wisdom when everything’s cleaned up, shall we?"

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