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smellyfootboy · 4 years ago

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SMELLY ENCOUNTERS WITH ETHAN PT 2

So it had been a few months after my last encounter with Ethan where he basically made me his foot bitch. I had moven on and taken It for what it was. A one night fantasy come true because he was drunk. I still jerk off frequently thinking about that night. The whole thing still feels like a dream.

I hadn't really seen him much since then and I hoped It wasn't because he would feel awkward after what had happened. Honestly I question if he had even remembered with his intoxication.

But that day, he texted me out of nowhere:

ETHAN: Hey man. Wassup.

ME: not much hbu?

ETHAN: It's been a while... what are you up to?

ME: just playing PS5... I was able to snag the last one at target.

ETHAN: The fuck dude... and you weren't going to ask me to come play? I wanna try it out to see if it worth it before I get one.

ME: I mean, you are welcome to join me. Sleepover video game party? Haha

ETHAN: Fuck ya! I'll be over in about an hour.

I got butterflies in my stomach. Video game sleepover???? Was he gonna make me his bitch again? I was getting hard just thinking about it. I quickly picked up my apartment a bit. I was tempted to pick up some booze to hopefully recreate the last time but decided against it. It would look too desperate.

Some time past and Ethan arrived. He looked as hot as ever. I noticed myself acting a little nervous around him. I looked down at his shoes and they were a pretty beat up pair of Globes. Different from the converse he wore last time. He typically always wore skate shoes.

"Hey man how you been? I brought some snacks. " Ethan said as he brought them over to the counter.

"Cool thanks! Yeah I don't think we've seen each other since um... new years ?" I said awkwardly.

"Ha. New years that was a fun night... so show me this ps 5 you lucky bastard." Ethan said.

Fun night. Ugh. I just want to talk about it. And make it happen again.

We went to the couch and I handed him a controller. We played for a good hour.

"This is pretty sweet. I think i might have to get one." Ethan said.

"Yeah ... so what did you do all day?" I asked

"A lot of running around. Went and worked out a bit at the gym. Got pretty sweaty. And then came here" Ethan said.

"Not even a shower first? Is that what that smell is " I asked.

"Bitch you know you love it." Ethan said as he shoved my head into his armpit which was definaly strong. I resisted and pulled away.

We went back to playing games for a bit and somehow I ended up sitting on the floor leaning against the front of the couch while Ethan was still on the couch. At some point we switched from video games to watching a movie and I feel asleep on the floor.

I woke up to Ethan whispering my name.

"Guess he's sleeping. Fair game." I heard him say under his breath. His big shoes were hovering inches above my face. His feet had to be size 11 at least. He then removed both of his shoes and looked down at me. I shut my eyes quick to pretend I was still sleeping. The smell hit me like a ton of bricks. When I heard Ethan lean back I opened my eyes again. His big smelly feet right above my face. Not only that but this time the red, white, and black socks he was wearing had a bunch of holes in them like they were years old. The smell seemed almost stronger than the last time I had an experience with him. It was so overpowering. He lowered his feet a little more so my nose was right in his toes. His big toe poked out of one of the holes which I honestly found pretty hot. I couldn't belive this was happening again. How long should i pretend to be sleeping? I didn't want to move. I continued sniffing them trying not to inhale too deeply so he'd know I was awake. He suddenly took his big exposed toe and pried it in between my lips. I could feel it rubbing my teeth. And while he did this, his other foot remained hugging my nose. I heard him unzip his pants. I had no idea what he was planning.

"You awake yet?" Ethan asked. I didnt know what to do. But I guess it was time. I pretended to wake up.

"Huh wha..." I pulled his toe out of my mouth

"What are you doing! Ew not again" I yelled pretending I hated it.

"Excuse me! Did I say you could do that?" Ethan said sternly. He slapped my face with his stinky foot and I layed back down.

"Remember when we were young? At sleepovers, anyone that falls asleep first would get hazed." Ethan said. He was determined to make me his bitch again. Who was I to stand in his way? He reached down and pulled his socks off and leaned back again. His big rank feet centimeters from my face.

"After my work out, and wearing these socks for a couple days, I could use a good cleaning. Stick your tongue out" Ethan demanded. I obliged. What immediately followed was Ethans big foot sliding across my tongue. I could taste the workout and the days old socks with every lick. Ethan kept doing this and then started on the toes, sliding my tongue between each one. I could feel the sock lint on my tongue. After what seemed like forever, Ethan switched to the other foot and it was the whole process all over again. My tongue was so dry and so smelly.

After about 20 minutes of vigorous torture to my tongue Ethan took his feet off of me.

"Good boy. Now re-lubricate that tongue." He said. I pulled my tongue back in my mouth and all I could taste was Ethans feet. Once I gained enough saliva, I swallowed and could feel the dirt and grime go all the way down. It took me a minute to catch my breath. I started to get back up.

"Nope." Ethan said as he pushed me forcefully back to the ground.

I was confused... his feet were clean, what was coming next?

Suddenly I could see Ethan's huge balls coming down from above me. He layed them over my nose and they smelled phenomenal. Like they had been excessively sweating all day long.

"Tongue out" he said. Once again I obliged.

His huge nuts started to slide across my tongue. I could feel the stubble on his balls, but they were mostly smooth. He was stroking his large uncut cock while he did this. This was way further than we got the last time we hung out. Ethan suddenly used his hands and stuffed his huge nuts into my mouth. I had to open very wide for them. I could barely breathe. His balls were gagging me and his sweaty taint was over my nose. As he would jerk off I could feel his precum dripping down my chin. I was so turned on.

"Yeah clean off those balls good like you did my feet." Ethan said.

I could feel Ethan reaching climax as I swirled my tongue around his balls. I watched him reach over and grab one of his stinky holey socks, and put it over his cock. I watched him cum in ecstacy while my mouth was stuffed with nuts. He pulled his cum filled sock off his dick and pulled his balls out of my mouth and sat back up on the couch.

"Whew. So yeah. You can expect that when you fall asleep first. " Ethan said laughing. He went back to playing video games and I didn't even know what to do. I started to get up and I was about to grab the other controller to play with him and he grabbed my hand.

"Nah you aren't done yet." He said. He took his cum filled stinky cock and stuffed it in my mouth.

"Chew on that for a while and tell me when it's clean." Ethan said.

So i watched Ethan play video games over the next half hour while sucking on this cum filled filthy sock. This was probably the best night of my life, even better than the first time. I couldnt wait to see what would happen next time we hung out.

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justmeandmysickies · 3 years ago

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From the dialogue prompt list: Sickie 11.) “I just–mmph–threw up–” aaand Caretaker 1.) “Poor thing, you’re belly’s really upset, huh?” for Key and Jaylen 🖤

Here you go, Flick! Thank you for basically keeping this blog alive haha

Quiet is never a good sign

characters: Key and Jaylen

warnings: emeto

Key was being quiet. Too quiet and Jaylen didn't like it one bit.

Yes, his boyfriend wasn't exactly known for being a chatty person but today was different.

Having their annual Harry-Potter-Marathon they were currently halfway through 'the order of the phoenix' and Jaylen couldn't remember the last time his boyfriend had actually said something.

And Jay was trying hard. More than once he'd attempted to involve his boyfriend in a conversation. He'd basically been talking through the entire movie. And by now Key should have either beaten his ass for talking through the movies or at least given him some kind of verbal answer.

But not today. And Jaylen could tell something was wrong with his boyfriend, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what and it bothered him to no end.

"Sirius is actually kinda hot, don't you think?" Jaylen asked, hoping he'd get an answer out of Key if he talked about his favorite character - but again he got nothing more than an approving hum.

Now Jaylen was seriously starting to get worried. And that meant something because Jaylen Louis Calligan did not worry. At least that's what he liked to think, Key would of course never tell him that Jay was actually one of the biggest overthinkers he had ever met.

Forgetting all about the movie, Jaylen was now basically staring at his boyfriend, trying to figure out what was wrong. He was pale but then again - Key was naturally pale and in the light of the tv screen it was hard to tell how bad it really was.

While Jaylen was lost in his thoughts Key was fighting a losing battle against the nausea that had been plaguing him all day.

Jaylen was still staring at his boyfriend when the latter suddenly burped. Although a rather small burp it was thick and wet and hearing it immediately sent a shiver down Jaylen’s spine. Key on the other hand shot up from where he was sitting, a hand clamped tightly over his mouth. The comforter he'd been wrapped in fell messily to the floor as the blonde sprinted to the bathroom.

Jay was left staring after his boyfriend, mouth hanging slightly agape in shock at the sudden turn of events.

A painful sounding retch came from the bathroom and with that Jaylen got up, quickly making his way to his ill boyfriend before he could think about it too much.

At the door however, he stopped to take a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was about to see. As he opened the door, he quickly realized though, that 'seeing it' was not the biggest of his worries. It was the smell that got to him first. The sour stench of vomit hit Jaylen like a wall of bricks, and he had to turn away, gagging into his hand.

Every fiber in his being wanted to walk out of the door but another retch and the sound of liquid hitting liquid sounded from behind him, making his stomach clench in sympathy for his poor boyfriend and he just couldn't leave.

And then - the toilet flushed.

‘Thank god, Jaylen thought, he is done.’ He turned around, meeting Keys eyes, who was still sat in front of the toilet. Jay walked over to him, suppressing the urge to gag again - for his boyfriend’s sake.

"I just-mmph-threw up-" Key said warningly, knowing about his boyfriend’s slight emetophobia. Unfortunately, he was cut off by another productive heave that once again brought with it a wave of semi-digested food, which noisily splattered into the toilet bowl.

Jaylen had to look away but still put a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s upper back, slowly rubbing circles over his shoulder blades.

"Yeah babes, I figured as much." He chuckled, slightly amused by Key's obvious statement.

When the sound of vomit hitting the toilet water finally stopped, Jaylen turned back around, facing his boyfriend.

Key was panting now, his entire face and back were slick with sweat and excess saliva was hanging from his bottom lip. He looked outright pitiful.

"Poor thing, your belly's really upset huh?" Jaylen murmured, still carefully rubbing up and down his boyfriend’s back.

Key spat into the toilet. "Stop talking to me like that, it sounds like you are talking to a child."

"Alright, I'm sorry." Jaylen laughed, now grabbing a piece of toilet paper and cleaning his grumpy boyfriend’s face.

When he tossed the soiled paper into the toilet, he leaned over to flush - unfortunately, he made the mistake of actually looking at what was inside the toilet bowl. Once again, the brunette singer gagged into his hand.

Key quickly looked up at his boyfriend - the gag had sounded alarmingly wet. Jaylen was swallowing convulsively, and Key moved away from the toilet, so his boyfriend had enough space and proper access - just in case. Jaylen however shook his head and slowly lifted his hand from his mouth.

"I'm good." He exhaled shakily. "Sorry about that."

Now it was Keys turn to shake his head. "It is fine, I know you get squeamish around vomit. I am seriously surprised you are actually in here with me." Key chuckled lightly, getting up to brush his teeth.

Jaylen smiled at that. "So am I. Guess I really do love you. But on a different note - how are you feeling?“

"Honestly? Like crap. I am pretty sure I caught the bug that has been going around at school. My stomach is killing me." Key sighed, placing a careful hand over his middle before putting the toothbrush into his mouth. He gagged almost immediately at the feeling and opted for some mouthwash instead.

Jaylen was carefully watching his boyfriend, looking for a sign the latter was going to throw up again. "Mh, sounds like it. How about we get you to bed? I'll grab a bucket and some medicine and then we can cuddle."

Key had to laugh at the last statement. "You really want to stay with me? While I am like this?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay, if you don’t expect me to look at you while you spew."

Key smiled. "Okay, deal. But I want to finish the movie, so let us cuddle on the couch, okay?“ Jaylen nodded. He took his boyfriend’s hand and lead him back to their living room.

While Key got settled in, Jay went to grab some sick-day supplies, including a bucket, Pepto-Bismol and a glass of water.

Five minutes later, the couple was cuddled up on the sofa, Key nestled comfortably into boyfriend’s arms, head resting on Jaylen’s chest.

Of course, Key did not finish the movie. Instead, he fell asleep less than fifteen minutes after they’d returned to the sofa.

But it was probably for the best that way, Jaylen thought, as he gently massaged the blonde’s scalp, since the next round was bound to come.

#em writes #request #key #jaylen #my ocs #emeto

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slightlycrunchy · 3 years ago

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👀 hello, how about ”I need to show you something.” 💖

I liked this one so much, great suggestion! Send me prompts, friends! This ended up with some crack elements haha

800~ words, rated T. Modern au, college. Jealousy, getting together, Geraskier. Happy ending, a bit of crack! (literally XD)

“Oh my god...Jas.”

Geralt’s eyes are glued to Jaskier’s skin. Where before there had been soft and pale flesh, lightly dusted with hair...well now all he sees is ink.

“I know, right?”

Jaskier stands before him, his hands holding up his shirt as he peeks over his own shoulder to stare at Geralt in unrestrained excitement. His body bounces with it, eyes alight with amusement as Geralt stands behind him beside a conspicuous brick building. They’re between classes right now and Jaskier had run up to him, spitting in his eager whispers for Geralt to “follow me, I need to show you something!” He had followed without hesitation.

He might regret that now.

The tattoo lies just above Jaskier’s arse, right above the beginnings of a soft cleft which Geralt can see due to Jaskier having pulled down his pants by two inches to give him a plain view. Geralt’s face pinches in thought.

“It's a lute.”

“It's a guitar!” Jaskier answers--whines, in fact.

“You don't even play the guitar, Jas.”

“But I’m learning! Gods, Geralt don’t be such a stick in the mud. It’s good, right?!”

Geralt looks at it again. He supposes it is, the lines seem accurate enough. He wants to touch it. “When did you get it?”

“Two weeks back, Valdo dared me--you know I can’t say no to him.”

Geralt does know, and he hates it. He’s had to drag Jaskier out of too many sticky situations thanks to one Valdo Marx, the other guitarist in their ‘band’. Calling it such feels too generous on Geralt’s part, but he won’t tell Jaskier that. He simply hums his assent.

“Oh, come off it, Geralt I know you don’t like him but you have to admit he keeps things interesting,” Jaskier says as he lowers his shirt and turns around to face Geralt. He swoops down and grabs his over-the-shoulder bag he had flung onto the grass in his haste. Geralt checks his watch.

“We’re going to be late to class.” His voice is flat, flashes of Valdo’s face dragging down his mood faster than his cat Roach can eat her favorite treats. He knows it’s jealousy; he’s come to terms with that fact. Why Jaskier would waste so much of his time with the utter knobhead instead of his other friends that care about him far more, Geralt doesn’t think he’ll ever understand. His irritation must show on his face, because soon enough he feels a gentle hand at his elbow. It retreats just as softly.

“Are you alright, Geralt?”

“Fine. Let’s just go, Jaskier.” He doesn’t bother to hide his vexation; Jaskier wouldn’t be able to pinpoint its origin anyway.

They begin walking to their shared class, and Geralt gets lost in the sound of their feet hitting the pavement, over and over. He doesn’t bother looking up when Jaskier speaks again.

“I already want another one, I think. There’s something about the process--you know I didn’t cry at all for the pain, Geralt? Shocked myself with that one if you believe it.” Geralt can. “It’s the act of having something permanent against your skin, the inability to go back to what you were...changed forever into something new. A bit scary if I think too much about it.”

Geralt doesn’t say anything, and still their feet tap, tap against the concrete. Jaskier continues.

“It’s like jumping off of a cliff, I think. Standing at the top is frightening, but the free fall isn’t so bad--assuming there’s a soft landing, of course…I hope there’s a soft landing...”

Geralt can’t help looking at Jaskier now, his voice having turned thoughtful and introspective.

“Are we still talking about tattoos, Jas?”

As if forgetting Geralt was even there, Jaskier turns his head quickly, clear blue eyes wet with some sort of emotion that Geralt can’t place. Perhaps he’s upset his friend...maybe he should have been a bit more enthusiastic about the tattoo.

“You know, you’re unbearably dense sometimes, Geralt,” Jaskier answers, his hand coming to thread into the crook of Geralt’s arm. Geralt feels his cheeks flame hot when he stumbles the slightest bit at the contact. Jaskier laughs brightly. “Maybe I could come over later and you could help me come up with something. Oh! Even better, why don’t you come with me next time? Please?”

Geralt wills his heartbeat to slow, wishes it never rose at all when Jaskier looks at him like that--but he knows all is hopeless. How could he ever deny this person anything, with the way his eyes light up at every turn? The fingers at his elbow tighten; Geralt finds he likes it too much.

“Alright. Yes.”

It only hits him later, after the day is done and he lies upon his bed, Roach tucked neatly under his arm, that indeed Jaskier had not at all been speaking of tattoos. He falls asleep with the smile still on his face at the realization.

#the witcher fic #angst #geraskier #my writing #i really dont know if jaskiers thoughts were clear on this but im posting it anywayyyyy lol

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ur-jinji · 4 years ago

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wallflowers: part two

zuko x reader modern au

warning: sokka throws up a lot. sokka always ends up throwing up in my fics

summary: after a night at a party with the gaang and meeting zuko, you join them for breakfast and find time alone with him

a/n: i had no intention of writing a sequel & left part one off with a little bit of cliffhanger just for the fun of it but i got like two comments asking for a part two and i was like damn i feel like i owe it to yall for ending it like that,, so here you go :) i don’t really know how to feel about it

Unknown: hey :) it’s zuko

Your eyes widened at your phone in surprised.

‘He actually texted me,’ You thought to yourself in awe.

“What are you smiling about?” Katara questioned from the drivers seat of the car. She raised an eyebrow and a very smug smirk was wiped across her face.

“Uh, nothing,” You lied before turning back to your phone. You stared at the message for a moment, your fingers stuck. Why were you so nervous to text him back?

You: hey :) how’s the party?

Zuko: really boring now that you’re gone :( aang and i just went up to the guest room for bed. everyone started to leave

You smiled softly.

You: you’re so sweet!!

Zuko: i heard we might go to breakfast tomorrow. will you be there?

“We’re going to breakfast?” You asked Katara.

“Yeah, once they all rise from the dead. Sokka and Suki will probably be the ones most screwed up tomorrow,” She replied, causing you to laugh and nod in agreement.

You: yeah i’ll be there :)

Zuko: good :) see you then

You put your phone back into your pocket and could not stop smiling. Butterflies were swarming in your stomach. You eventually made it to Suki’s apartment, and you and Katara had to practically drag them inside. Once you tucked them into bed, you made yourself comfy on the couch in the living room. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and saw another text.

Zuko: did you make it to suki’s okay??

You: yes :) thanks for asking. we had to put sokka and suki to bed. i think theyll be out for the rest of the night so no funny business haha

Zuko: just give it a minute

Just a moment after Zuko sent that text, you started to hear a consistent creaking of a mattress coming from the other room

You: oh my god you’re right they’re going at it

You: i don’t even know how lmao they were knocked out a second ago

Zuko: i’ve suffered through many long nights in the same house as them. they always find a way -.-

You: god theyre animals lmfao

You: i’m gonna get some sleep, you should too!!

Zuko: okay, sleep well :)

You: you too :)

You awoke the next morning with a sliver of sunshine from the mostly closed curtains shining brightly directly on your face. It was sometime around noon. You rubbed your eyes tiredly and noticed a sound from the bathroom that sounded like gagging. You were suddenly very thankful you only had one drink the previous night. If it weren’t for Zuko, you probably would’ve had more.

You stood from the couch and followed the noise of gags. The door was wide open and you could see Sokka leant over the toilet. You walked towards him, concerned.

“Hey, buddy. Want me to get you some water?” You offered kindly as you placed a hand on his back, rubbing circles. He looked up at you with a look of disgust on his face and nodded slowly.

“I don’t know how Suki does it. She’s perfectly fine,” He mumbled before burping and leaning back over the toilet. Some vomit came up. Gross.

You made your way to the kitchen where you saw Suki, all readied up, pretty, and ready to go.

“Hey, Y/N! How did you sleep?” She chirped. She handed you a water bottle for Sokka, already knowing.

“I slept good. The couch was very comfy,” Yoh replied with a smile.

“I didn’t mean to get so trashed last night. Did I do anything embarrassing?” Suki asked.

“Nope. Sokka on the other hand...” You responded, gaining a laugh from her. Katara appeared in the kitchen and greeted the two of you. She also looked ready to go. You felt embarrassed that you were the last one up.

“I’ll go get ready real quick!” You told them before speed walking from the kitchen. You bee lined to the bathroom and gave Sokka his water.

“Thanks,” He muttered sickly.

“I’m gonna get ready in here while you puke, mkay?” You told him. He nodded and took a long drink of water. He fell backwards onto the tile floor and stared miserably up at the sealing. You went over to the vanity and rushed to get ready using Suki’s things and an extra toothbrush she left for you. As you ran a brush through your hair, you heard Sokka scramble to get back up and upchuck into the toilet some more. You finished up getting ready and made your way out of the bathroom.

You joined the girls on the couch in the living room and chatted for a while until Sokka was able to hold down his vomit. He appeared in the living room and stared miserably at the three of you.

“Don’t you look pretty,” Katara teased. “Now let’s go. Aang, Toph, and Zuko just got to the diner.”

The four of you made your way out to the car and you somehow got stuck in the back with Sokka. He looked like he was about throw up all over you.

“Suki, I hate you for calling shotgun,” You told her. She turned around from the passenger seat and giggled.

“I’m not about to be thrown up on!” She reasoned.

Sokka grumbled something incoherent and then rested his head on the window, closing his eyes. Maybe if he does throw up, he’ll just do it on the floor? Maybe.

You arrived at the diner without any puke on you and you all made your way inside. Aang waved you over at a large table when he saw the group walk in. Your eyes landed on Zuko, who had already noticed you. He smiled warmly. He was seated at the very end of the table with Toph on the other side of him. You took a seat across from him, and Suki sat beside you. You were grateful Sokka didn’t sit by you.

“Hi, Y/N,” Zuko greeted you from across the table. You greeted him back, adding a grin. You looked over the menu to busy yourself. You felt yourself becoming very nervous again in Zuko’s presence, and feeling his gaze on you didn’t help.

“You’re lucky we’re in public, snoozles. I’m ready to put you into another chokehold,” You heard Toph say, presumably to Sokka, earning laughs from the rest of the group.

The table’s waitress came over and took everyone’s orders and then proceeded to say that it may take longer because the kitchen was super backed up. Your stomach grumbled loudly in response.

“God, I’m so hungry,” You said when she walked away.

“Me too,” Sokka said moodily from the other end of the table.

“I’m surprised you even want to eat!” Katara replied to him.

“Do you think you can wait?” Zuko asked.

“I mean, I have to,” You said with a chuckle, thinking you were stating the obvious.

“I have a granola bar in my car if you want it?” He offered softly to you, nudging your shoe with his.

“Really? I wouldn’t mind having one. I’m literally starving,” You responded, ready to jump out of your seat to get the dang thing.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Zuko said as he got up from his chair. You followed him out of the diner and into the parking lot, making small talk on the way to his car. Once you arrived at the destination, he opened the cardoor and fished a granola bar from his school backpack.

“I always have an emergency snack just in case for...y’know...emergencies,” He explained, his voice sounding anxious. You thanked him and ripped that sucker open. You split it in half and handed a half out to him.

“Please share it with me! I don’t want to spoil my entire appetite on accident,” You begged him.

Zuko grabbed the other half and then leaned against the door, munching on his half. You joined him against the door and looked up at him.

“So, did Sokka and Suki keep you up?” He asked.

“Not really. It was quickie,” You answered with a chuckle.

“You’re lucky. They kept me up for two hours once. It was awful,” He said, breathing out a shaky laugh. His nerves were becoming more and more obvious. “I’m not as bold as I was last night.”

“Well, the nickname liquid courage might explain it,” You joked.

“Wanna go for a walk?” Zuko asked with a hopeful expression. You nodded in response and the two of you began a trek out of the parking walk and down some sidewalk. The two of you spent the time sharing stories about your past and friends. You couldn’t help but notice how every so often, his hand would accidentally brush against your knuckles as you walked, causing a few blushes. You ended up at a large mural on the side of an abandoned bricked building on an empty street. It depicted the city abstractly. You looked up in admiration.

“We don’t have very many murals in my town. Just graffiti of random names,” You said to him. “It’s beautiful.”

You walked up to the mural, and as you got closer to the bricks, you reached out a hand, touching the paint gently, and running your fingers down the bricks. Zuko copied you, and his hand accidentally got a little too close to yours. His index finger lightly grazed your pinky. You both froze for a moment, taking in the rush that the contact gave. Zuko turned to you with a soft expression, which you returned.

“We should probably head back. Our food might be ready,” You said, nerves taking over you. You pulled your hand away from the bricks.

“Wait,” Zuko told you hurriedly. “I’ll regret not doing this.”

Before you could ask him what he meant, his hands found their way under your cheekbones. Zuko leaned forward and his eyes fluttered shut. His lips touched yours, causing a rush to race throughout your body. You immediately kissed him back, feeling like you’ve been deprived of his touch all your life. His lips moved quickly against yours like it was urgent. You opened your mouth slightly, welcoming his tongue, which seemed more than happy to enter. You eventually pulled away to catch your breath, both of you panting heavily. Zuko smirked and then leaned in for one more quick kiss, then another, then another, then another, pulling away for a second inbetween each one.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that since last night, but didn’t want to give you the wrong idea. I just really like you,” Zuko explained through his deep breaths. You grinned and pulled him back in for more to tell him you felt the same way. You eventually separated again, and you shared a smile with him.

“I like you too, Zuko. You replied, caressing his cheek, smiling and breathing out one final deep breath. “Let’s head back before our food gets cold.”

Zuko nodded with a small opened mouth smile. The two of you began your walk back, and he surprised you again by taking your hand in his, entwining your fingers.

As you walked back, you couldn’t help but think about transferring colleges.

taglist: @complainsalot @teelagurl558 @coldlilheart

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fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 4 years ago

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Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Mostly gen, this chapter is pretty tame. Reader gets pretty horny towards the end but nothing below the belt actually occurs

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 5/16 (all chapters)

You didn’t get any sleep that night.

As a result of your visits to the police station, hospital and briefing at UA, you didn’t get around to checking your phone until 8PM, only to find it had exploded with missed calls, text messages and voicemails. You had missed well over 200 messages in the group chat you shared with your friends and 32 çalls from your mother.

They all knew you worked at UA and by now the attack was all over the news.

You gave up on catching up on everything you had missed after the first five minutes, choosing instead to send a copy pasted message to everyone in your notifications.

Hello, there was an incident at UA today. I’m fine. We’re all fine. Thank you for your concern.

Responding was a mistake, for even more messages flooded through the moment you hit send.

Everyone wanted to know the gory details. Cousins you hadn’t talked to in years suddenly had more than a passing interest in your affairs.

And then there was the message that made you drop your phone; a single sentence buried between notifications.

It was from your ex.

You had parted on relatively good terms, considering, though hadn’t talked since he picked up his things from your house. You had told yourself it was for the best, even if it shattered your heart to pieces.

It was strange to hear from him now and he seemed to know it, for his words were no more intimate or friendly than those of your distant cousins. It was as if you’d never been lovers, yet memories flooded back.

You remembered eating lunch together at your kitchen table; remembered wearing his sweater on nights he wasn’t home and burying your nose in the collar. You remembered picking out dresses for date nights and taking his hand on the train ride home.

It had been a long, emotional day and you didn’t trust yourself to reply. Instead you got up to make a late dinner, stealing glances at your phone out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but wonder how today might have gone if you were still together. Would he have picked you up from the police station? Maybe he would have taken you for gelato.

You picked up your phone as you waited for your food to cook, opening and closing his message. You gave up in the end, copy and pasting the same response you had given everyone else, but with one minor change.

Hello, there was an incident at UA today. I’m fine. We’re all fine. Thank you for your concern.

How are you?

He replied within the next five minutes, detailing the brand new business partnership he had achieved with one of the major hero agencies in Roppongi. He’d been chasing such a partnership for many of the years you had known him and it was difficult to stop yourself swelling with pride. He wasn’t your boyfriend now, after all.

He was just as curious about your new job at UA, though mostly seemed confused. You had been in your previous job for years with no desire to move, after all. You kept quiet about the fact that if he hadn’t broken your heart you would probably still be there.

After an hour or so of back and forth, he finally sent the message you had been dreading.

We should go for dinner some time.

You cast aside your phone and poured yourself a much needed glass of wine. You didn’t trust yourself to see him in person. It took everything you had not to call him there and then so you could hear his voice.

Your reply was as polite as it was cagey, apologising for your busy schedule under the current circumstances. It was at least partly true, and he seemed understanding enough. Everyone in the country knew about UA’s upcoming sports festival, after all.

Little did you know you’d be seeing him far sooner than expected.

━

UA was closed the next day for repairs and staff meetings. All UA staff were present, with one notable exception. Shouta was still in the hospital and expected to rest up for the rest of the week.

The attack on the USJ might have been foiled, but the implications of it were massive, especially with the sports festival on the horizon. You expected the games to be postponed for the immediate future, but you couldn’t be further from the truth. If anything, the attack made Nezu even more determined to make this year’s games the biggest yet.

You understood his decision, even if you didn’t completely agree with it. The sports festival was critical to the future prospects of all UA students, many of whom (such as the third year pupils) would not get another opportunity to show off their skills in such a public manner. You only hoped that it wasn’t a mistake.

Your own contributions to the meetings were small in the grand scheme of things and you were finished up for the day by 1:30 in the afternoon. You considered picking up groceries on the way home, only to get off the train at the nearest platform to the hospital.

By now Shouta must have come around from his anaesthesia and you decided to call in and visit to find out if he needed anything, like spare clothes or someone to help out with his household chores during his recovery. You had heard Hizashi and Nemuri make comments about his love for cats and seen cat hair on his clothes on certain occasions. If he had pets, you were only too happy to babysit them while he was away.

Unfortunately, your plans were quashed almost immediately.

“What do you mean he discharged himself?”

━

You thought about Shouta as you took the train, as you packed up your groceries and slipped through your front door. He had been terribly beaten up the last time you’d seen him, so much so that even his doctors had recommended he rest for the week. Why would he leave after less than 24 hours? Why would he overstrain himself in such a way?

You thought about him as you made lunch and the final adjustments to your schedule. He was a grown man, you told yourself. He was perfectly capable of making his own choices and taking care of himself.

Even so, you couldn’t stop thinking about his two injured arms. How was he going to cook? How was he going to clean? Surely he didn’t mean to continue underground work with damage to his skull?

You lasted until 5PM before giving up and texting Hizashi.

Can you call me when you’re free?

He called you only seconds later.

“How can I help you, sweet listener?”

“It’s Shouta,” you said. “I called by at the hospital and...well...he’s discharged himself.”

“He what ?!”

“I know,” you said. “I’m really worried.”

“That’s so typical of him,” Hizashi sighed, “what is he thinking?”

“I was thinking I might stop by his place to check on him,” you said. “Do you know where he lives?”

He went quiet for a couple of seconds, clearly thinking about it.

“You know, (Name), it’s not the kind of neighbourhood for a lady…”

“I’ll text you when I get there?”

“Hmmm…”

You could practically see him leaning back in his chair and scratching his chin.

“Fine,” he said at last. “I’ll text you the details.”

“Thank you!”

“You’ve gotta text me though.”

“I will!”

“And, by the way…”

“Mhmmm?”

“How long have you been calling him Shouta?”

You flushed a bright red, feeling as if you’d been caught with your pants down.

Of all of the teachers, Shouta was the only one who hadn’t openly given you permission to call him by his first name in informal situations. You referred to him as Aizawa while around other people and even on the rare occasions you were alone. You had reset, even if he would always be Shouta in your mind.

“I…I...I’ll speak to you later, haha, bye!”

You couldn’t hang up fast enough. You were convinced the intonation of your voice would betray the truth.

You buried your head in your hands, as if to hide your face from your phone.

Well, shit.

━

Hizashi hadn’t been exaggerating when he said Shouta lived in a shady area. Many of the buildings had boarded over their windows and just about every exposed area of brick had several layers of graffiti, most of which were obscene.

You felt eyes on the back of your neck as you pressed the buzzer for Shouta’s apartment, though soon identified the source as a grey cat sprawled across the wall, watching you with steady amber eyes.

“Hello,” you said, leaning over, “are you the gatekeeper?”

The cat yawned and stretched out a paw.

“Oh, I see, I see,” you said, tapping a fingertip against its paw by way of a handshake. “Well you’re doing a very good job.”

“What are you doing here?”

That voice sounded incredibly familiar and you glanced up towards the balcony above you. Shouta was peering over it, still bandaged up and both of his arms in casts. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he was scowling.

“I came to check in on you,” you called up. “The hospital said you’d discharged yourself, and-“

He turned on the spot.

“As you can see, I’m okay. You can go home now.”

“But…”

You had packed an insulated bag full of food before leaving home and glanced from that to the gate. Were you going to have to carry it back on the train? You’d already packed a big lunch for the next day, ahead of seeing 1-A through counselling. Just what were you going to do with all of this extra food?

Shouta peered back over the balcony and sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “But make sure you hold the door open for Sushi.”

“Sushi?” you wondered aloud as the buzzer sounded and you let yourself through the gate. “Who’s Sushi?”

As if in response, the cat hopped down from its position on the wall and wandered up the path as if it had done so a thousand times. It stopped at the front door to the building and turned back to you expectantly, waiting for you to open the door.

You followed the cat into the building and up the stairs. The cat, Sushi you supposed, would rush off ahead of you and then wait for you to catch up. It barreled up the stairwell and then sat at the top before climbing the next. You knew which apartment belonged to Shouta even without checking over Mic’s message, for the cat sat down outside of it and looked back at you.

“Thank you, gatekeeper,” you said, tapping at the door.

“It’s open,” Shouta called out from within and you reached for the handle, Sushi the cat squeezing through the gap the moment you opened it even slightly.

You didn’t know what you expected from Shouta’s home. You knew he spent very little time there and that much was clear the moment you got inside. He had minimal furniture: a couch in one corner, along with a small table and even smaller television. There were no photographs on the walls; no blankets or decorations. Everything in his home had a clear function, as if designed to be left in a hurry. It was the opposite of your home in every possible sense.

“Make yourself comfy, I guess,” he said.

“I don’t know when exactly you checked out of the hospital,” you said, “but I thought you might be hungry. I made a few things…”

You walked over to the table and unzipped your bag.

“I wasn’t sure what kinds of food you liked, so I brought a bit of everything,” you said, pulling out each container. “There’s some soup, some rice, meatballs, an omelette…”

Retrospectively, you had rather overdone it.

“Some of these can be frozen or reheated,” you said. “You don’t have to eat all of them at once.”

He glanced from you to your food containers, which by then had taken up almost all of his table.

“You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Oh, it’s no bother. We’re colleagues, remember!”

“Yeah,” he said. “I-”

He didn’t get to say anymore, though, for his stomach rumbled noisily.

“Shouta,” you said. “When did you last eat?”

“I...hmm...I had a small meal at the hospital before I-”

“You... wh-?! That was hours ago! You need proteins and vitamins to heal.”

“It’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

It wasn’t fine. Not by any means.

You simmered as you plated up a few of the containers and refrigerated the rest. You couldn’t believe how little one person could care for their own body and pretended you didn’t see the bottles of antiseptic, antibiotics and bandages on his shelf. How many wounds had he gotten without seeing a doctor? How many of his scars came from cuts he had tended himself?

“I don’t want to hear you complain about Midoriya breaking his bones ever again,” you muttered as Sushi rubbed against your legs, seeming not to notice the bowl of cat food only a short distance away.

Of course he’d remembered to feed the cat.

Of course.

“Yes, yes,” said Shouta, leaning back on the couch and pulling down some of his bandages to expose his mouth and chin.

You brought the food over to his table and proceeded to pack away your empty food containers, watching out of the corner of your eye as he leaned over to pick up the cutlery, only to flinch and drop it.

“Do you need some help?”

“Nope, I got it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ye-fuck.”

The cutlery clattered to the table with a dull thud and you took a seat next to him, reaching for the cutlery and holding it out to him.

“Thank you,” he said, albeit reluctantly, balancing it in his fingers before dropping it again.

“Let me help you,” you said, grabbing the fork and scooping up some of the omelette. “Open wide.”

“Wh-no way,” he said, eyes darting from you to the fork. “I ain’t a toddler.”

“It’s not like I’m going to make aeroplane sounds. Let me help you.”

Shouta grumbled under his breath, but ate from the fork you raised to his lips.

“..cious,” he murmured as you gathered a second forkful.

“Hmm?”

“I said...if you tell anyone about this I’ll shave off your eyebrows.”

“Neglect yourself this much again and I’ll shave your entire head.”

A smile crept across your face; you couldn’t help it. This whole situation was more than a little absurd. Here was the underground hero, Eraserhead, known for his smooth takedowns of villains in Musutafu’s underbelly, struggling to hold onto a fork. You were little more than a girl he’d hooked up, yet there you were, nagging him as if you were married.

Shouta fell into contemplative silence as well.

“At the attack,” he said at last. “Did they hurt you?”

“What do you mean?”

You hadn’t been involved in the fighting, but perhaps he didn’t know that?

“At the hospital,” he said, “you had blood on your shirt.”

Your heart skipped a beat, remembering how you had kissed his forehead before you could stop yourself. You’d thought he was asleep. Had he been awake the whole time?

“No,” you said. “Nezu had me go to the police station. I used my quirk too much on the suspects too much, that’s all.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Were you… worried about me?”

“Of course not! It’s just that you’re useless in battle.”

“Oh my god, you were worried about me.”

“No I wasn’t,” he said, stubbornly. “Now give me some of the chicken.”

You scooped up some of it and lifted it to his lips but he didn’t move, even though he’d asked for it.

“Shou…” you began, only to fall silent as he leaned in.

You told yourself you should pull away, even as you met him in the middle and ran your tongue over his bottom lip. He leaned over towards you and crushed his lips against yours, kissing you so deeply that it sent a shiver through your core. You wanted his hands on you; wanted to ride him until both your throat and cunt were raw.

Oh no...

Before this, you had never known that kisses could feel like stormy seas. For the first time in your life, you wanted to drown.

You reached to cup the uninjured side of his face.

Two seconds more and you would break the reset. Three and you wouldn’t even regret it.

Sushi took the initiative, though, making use of the distraction to hop onto your lap and steal the chicken from your fork. You broke the kiss, both pulling away as if burned.

“I…” you said, “I’m sorry.”

What were you thinking? Shouta was injured and likely still had remnants of anesthesia in his body. Even if he didn’t, the attack on USJ would leave anyone shaken. You had gone there to help him out with chores, not take advantage of him while he was in a potentially vulnerable state.

“I should go,” you said, clearing your throat and rushing away to zip up your insulated bag.

“(Name),” he said. “I-”

“It’s okay,” you said. “It was my fault. I…”

You gave him the biggest, most artificial smile in your arsenal; the one you used at job interviews and dinner with your parents.

“I’ll see you at work!”

━

You thought about the kiss on the train ride home, as you washed your dirty food containers and took a bath. You sank down into the water, wishing you could wash away the fluttering in your core.

It was just arousal, you told yourself. Sex released chemicals, namely oxytocin, and it was natural for you to feel attached to him. Hell, you’d seen each other completely naked, which in itself was something profoundly intimate.

It would fade in time, as all things did.

You repeated it over and over as you dried yourself off and got into bed. Soon, very soon, you would forget how it felt when he’d touched you. Bodies replaced their cells every decade or so; one day your bodies would have never touched at all.

The exhaustion from the past few days caught up with you the moment your head touched the pillow and before long you were dreaming.

You dreamed of waking in the arms of your lover, who ran his fingers through your hair and kissed you on the forehead. The bed was comfortably warm and bathed in soft morning light; your lover’s arm heavy across your waist.

“(Name),” he whispered in your ear and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“(Name),” he whispered again and you looked up into his face, taking in his black hair and dark eyes. “Why are you crying?”

Your eyes snapped open then, dragging you back to your empty room.

There was no one else in your bed, you realised. It was the middle of the night, with no trace of the early morning glow you had so happily basked in.

The tears, though, they were real.

━

A/N

yes, it's that Sushi

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #habanero

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years ago

Note

18. I want you to say my name. No! Not that name. ‘My’ name. With Bakugou, please?

#18 with a side of light gore and NSFW coming right up.

Contents: dub-con/non con, choking, forced oral (receiving), yandere content. Minors, do not interact.

“He went this way!”

You ran behind the other two pro-heroes. The smell of ash and smoke choked your senses. Blood pumped hard in your body, pushing your forward towards the greatest danger. With the power to demolish an entire building or even a city block quite literally in the palm of his hands, Katsuki Bakugou made a name for himself as the number one villain in Japan. If he couldn’t reach the top of the charts as a hero, then he would feared as the top criminal.

Explosions erupted around you. Small ones mixed in with bigger impacts. Brick and mortar flew all around you. Dust clogged your senses. All three of you managed to dodge Bakugou’s attacks with a few scrapes. You saw him bobbing and weaving between the ruins he created. His razor sharp eyes peered through the clouds and debris. For a split second, you thought he was looking at you.

“Don’t let him get away!”

“Keep up, (Hero Name)! Now’s our chance to bring this traitor to justice!”

Deep in the pit of your stomach, something didn’t feel right. You ran after the villain. You and the other heroes came to halt in an empty city block. Civilians had been evacuated for when Bakugou lost his temper, which happened every time he was cornered. Still, it shouldn’t have been as quiet as it was.

“Where’d he go?”

“He’s got to be around here some--” You didn’t get a chance to finish.

Earth and smoke exploded around. Bits of concrete, asphalt, and stone blew you off your feet. Your fellow heroes were hit by the strongest blasts. Screaming and groans of agony filled your eardrums followed by a blaring ringing in your ears. Black dots danced in front of your eyes and you blacked out for a moment. When you opened your eyes again, a single figure stood out among the rubble. Bakugou stood over the bodies of your comrades.

“And just so you don’t follow us.” Katsuki aimed his hand at the hero’s kneecap.

There was more screaming. Blood now tinged the air. You were barely able to raise yourself up to your elbows. Your temples throbbed and you couldn’t see straight. Bakugou’s boots pounded the cracked asphalt as he made his way to you.

“There you are, Y/N. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Not your hero name, you wondered. Bakugou reached into his utility belt and retrieved a syringe holding an unknown fluid. You grabbed his wrist as he knelt in front of you and pressed the needle into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Bakugou pinned you to the ground then pushed down the plunger.

“This should make you nice and docile,” Bakugou said with a smirk.

“(Hero Name)!” One of the pro’s called out.

Your vision blurred before going completely dark.

---080---

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the piece of cold metal wrapped snug around your neck. Your hands and feet were left untied. As soon as your eyes were able to see, you took in your new surroundings. The room had no windows, a door, and a doorway that opened to a bathroom. Stone covered the walls, ceiling, and floor. Your new furnishings were sparse but comfortable-looking. A bed, an armchair, a plush rug, a bookshelf lined with novels, all your favorite. The implication didn’t startle you as much as that it was Bakugou that brought you to this place.

Speak of the devil, where was he?

Just as you tried the door only to find it locked, you heard footsteps echoing down some sort of hallway beyond the confines of your room. Keys jingled and the metal door swung open. Bakugou looked more triumphant than ever despite his face dirty with grime, soot, and a bit of blood.

“Alone at last.” He kicked the door closed and tossed the keys aside.

Your gaze traveled to him then to the keys he haphazardly tossed.

“I wouldn’t count on it, princess. That collar around your neck prevents you from ever activating your quirk. You’re next to useless without it and don't think for a second you’re strong enough to get past me,” Bakugou chuckled.

“Ground Zero, why are you doing this? Are you hoping to get ransom money?” You asked.

“Ransom? Haha! I don’t think for a second that shitty commission is going to spend a dime getting you back even if that was my plan.”

“Then why...”

Bakugou’s arms reached out and snaked around your waist. You were hauled off your feet and thrown back into the bed. Bakugou was on top of you in a flash. The cloying musk of soot and sweat made you turn your head and gag. Bakugou twisted your face so you were forced to look him in the eye.

“Say my name,” he ordered.

“What?”

“Don’t make me fucking repeat myself, Y/N. You should least have the curtesy of calling me by name.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bakugou remove his hand from your jaw and grasped and squeezed your throat. Your hands shot up to try and pry his fingers off, but it was useless.

“Don’t remember me, do ya? I wouldn’t be surprised. You got on a fucking ego trip and forgot all about your childhood pal, didn’t you?”

“Y-You became a villain...” You gasped.

“So? What of it? That didn’t change my feelings. I wanted you so bad, but then you started hanging around all those extras. No matter how high I climbed, everybody else climbed higher and you never noticed me. If I can’t be the number one hero to society or to you, then I'll be the number one villain and get what I want most of all!”

Bakugou’s lips slammed into yours. With one hand still attached to your throat, he kept you still. His tongue ran along the seam of your lips and forced his way in. Bakugou caressed the inside of your mouth with the same hunger as a starving man. He pulled away quickly. You panted for breath but struggled to do so with his hand still wrapped around your neck. The cold metal of the collar pressed against your flesh.

“Say my name.” Bakugou growled.

“Ground Zero, please...”

“No,” he said. His free hand rand down your chest and found the zipper to your hero costume. Instead of pull on that, Bakugou grabbed a fistful of fabric and pulled with all his strength. Your costume ripped and fell away like it was made of tissue paper. Bakugou repeated the process until you lay in your underwear.

“I want you to say my name.”

“Baku--”

“No! Not that name. My name.” Bakugou squeezed tighter until you were seeing star.

“K-Katsuki!” You barked.

His grip loosened. Bakugou, or rather Katsuki, slid down your barely clad body, tearing ruined pieces of clothing from your body. His calloused fingers yanked at the elastic of your panties until it snapped. He tore it away and nudged your legs apart.

“That’s more like it!” Katsuki dove between your legs.

The only thing you could do was lace your hands in Katsuki’s hair and pull. Eventually, his other hand released you so he could keep your legs apart. His tongue ran up and down your slit. Katsuki devoured your cunt, moaning at your taste. He made a feast of you, licking, slurping, and sucking your clit. Against your will, your body clenched up as pleasure seared down your spine. Your back arched and you dug your heels into the mattress when a tidal wave hit you. Your mind was reeling as your inner walls clenched around his tongue. Katsuki’s mouth and chin was soaked with your essence spilling over. You stared at his face long enough not to notice his hands unbuckling his pants and shoving them down past his hips.

It wasn’t until you felt the blunt head of his cock poking your newly sensitive cunt that you understood his intentions.

“Wait, wait, Katsuki! Don’t do this. Please don’t do this!”

“It’s a little too late for that,” he said.

With one thrust, he was seated completely inside of you. Slowly at first, Katsuki rocked into you. The squelching sound of his cock rubbing your insides grew louder as he picked up the pace. Calloused fingers grabbed your hips to pull you closer to him and lifted your lower half off the mattress. Craning your neck, you could see how his cock cleaved you in two. Pushing and pulling back over and over and over.

“S-Slow down, please!”

“Fat chance, Y/N. You gotta learn that you’re not goin’ anywhere. You’re goin’ take responsibility for what I’ve become!”

Katsuki pulled your legs up until the back of your knees rested on his shoulders. He fucked you into the mattress. No matter how you squealed, cried, or begged, he wasn’t slowing down or stopping. You felt your walls clamp around him as another wave of pleasure coursed through you. Unable to stop yourself, you moaned aloud.

“That’s it! Good fucking girl. Take it all and know that you’re mine!”

He pounded you harder than before, increasing the loudness of your moans. Your brain turned to mush before your pleasure reached it peak. You clawed at the sheets beneath you as you screwed your eyelids tight. Katsuki’s animalistic grunts filled your ears next to the sounds of his cock driving into you. His thrusts grew erratic and lost all control as you came around him. You cried at the top of your lungs and burst. You gushed all over his cock. Not a second later, Katsuki slammed his hips against you with one more bruising thrust. Your lower belly grew warm as ropes of Katsuki’s come painted your insides.

Katsuki wore the face of a triumphant demon of lust. He licked his lips at the prize sprawled out on the bed beneath him. You were flushed and warm all over. Your legs ached and screamed at you as Katsuki lowered them from his shoulders. He fixed his clothes and stood from the bed.

“If only those extras could see you now,” he snickered. “Fucked out of your mind. By me, Katsuki Bakugou.”

You didn’t quite hear what he was saying. You stared at the ceiling in disbelief.

---080---

I hope this is okay. I’m sorry if it’s a little long. I don't really know how to write shorter posts.

71 notes · View notes

big-tiddie-squad · 4 years ago

Text

My Cafe Date With U

@twancingyunhoe good morning sunshine! I love youuuu heres my first fluff just for you! 🥰🥰🥰

All inner thoughts are represented by ~~

Yourname365 has joined THE WORLD.

You see your user name floating in front of your eyes, excited to finally be able to play with the new VR system.

You’d been hoping to win the mini competition the nearby store had been hosting, in hopes to be the first to experience it. Well, the first “regular” person, .... and to get away from the real world for a little while, and the voice that keeps you down.

~Stupid and childish to play such a little game. What a waste of time.~

Please... not now.

Its been oppen to the rich and various celebrities across the globe for several months now. But that doesn’t matter. You’re just excited to escape. You’d heard that you can use the sensory pads to actually feel things in The World. There’s even a small ox of tablets that allow you to TASTE the foods in this virtual world.

~POINTLESS.~

You look down at your hands. Everything looks so real. You’d made your in-world self similar to how you look in the real world. When it becomes open to the rest of the real world, you wanted your friends to recognize you easily. Though... technically you could have made yourself into a small faerie like creature with cat ears and a tail and they’d probably assume its you.

~Everyone hates you. You have no friends. Those people just feel sorry for you~

I...I know.....

You look around The World and are awestruck. You’re in the middle of a small city. The roads are made with different shades of red brick and the trees offer the perfect ration of sunlight to shade. There’s 2 or 3 cafes with a few celebrities and other famous people you never would have thought you’d see here.

Everything is so bright and it warms you almost as if it was real sunlight. You’re glad you chose to use the sensory pads on the first trip here. The trees sway slightly and a light breeze caresses your bare arms. Your old t-shirt and pj pants were replaced with a nicer shirt and a pair of leggings.

“I wonder what all I can do? ....Is it appropriate to just walk up to famous people here and ask? No.... no I won’t bother them. Maybe there’s a starter guide in the menu?” You say to yourself. “Let’s see,” you somehow manage to open the menu, which is a great start, and begin walking to the nearest cafe that you had seen. The menu blocks most of your view but you have a pretty good memory and you continue to walk as you search for a guide. “Inventory? No. Settings? No.... hmmm...oof!” You slam into something solid.

“ SORRY! Sorry!” You repeat and bow, panicking as you realize you can’t figure out how to close the menu now.

~Here we go again... Once a moron always a moron~

Please stop.

“I’m so sorry this menu blocks my whole view! I can’t figure out how to close it... I’m so so so sorry!” You feel hands on your arms, steadying you and keeping you from bowing anymore. “Hey, it’s ok haha. No harm done just take a deep breath.” A wonderful voice says, exuding nothing but kindness and understanding. It sounds so familiar....

“Just twitch your right pinky finger, it opens and closes the menu.” The man explains calmly. You try it.... and it works. You keep your eyes down, then go to bow again and thank the person and again he keeps you from bowing again. You can’t bring yourself to look up at him. To look at which famous person you embarrassed yourself in front of, your FIRST TIME here in The World.

~STUPID STUPID STUPID~

please....

~How could you have been so STUPID.~

You should have just looked at the instructions.

~What an idiot there you go again making a fool of yourself. PATHETIC.~

Your eyes water at the intrusive thoughts. You notice your body starting to shake. Your breath is becoming more and more uneven. You feel like the heat is being sucked out of you.

A panic attack.

The man in front of your notices and speaks but it sounds like he’s underwater. Like YOU’RE underwater.

~It’s hopeless.~

You feel him guide you and pull you down... into a chair. He moves his hands slowly down to your hands and holds them both. You’re shaking like a leaf. Unable to speak or focus much. And then you hear a muffled tune. The thumbs of the strangers hands both rub small circles on yours and occasionally apply a little pressure and the circles continue again. The combination of both the muffled tune and the circles being rubbed onto your hand provide something for you to focus on.

You feel yourself calming down from the attack after a few minutes and the muffled tune breaks through to a lovely voice.

“-hangsang nae gyeote meomulieo jwo-”

You recognize the words... that voice... you stare at his hands. His strong hands. Ones you’ve gushed over before. Tentatively, you look up. Up into the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen.

Your heart kick starts.

Yunho....

You stare, dumbfounded as he quietly cuts off before the next verse. “Better now?” His worrying eyes take in every feature on your face and suddenly you feel the heat rise in your cheeks and along your neck. “Y--yes. Thank you....” You manage to fumble out. He smiles softly and then chuckles seeing the tinge of red. It’s like everything brightens more with his smile and laughter. “ I’ll go grab you something to eat and drink... I know it’s fake but who doesn’t like food?” He leaves you to go inside the building you’re both by.

You realize now that he has sat you down at a cafe and you look around taking the beauty of it. You stare at the pretty little bouquet of Dahlias sitting in the middle of your table. Yunho returns with 2 hot teas and a large slice of tiramisu.

“...I hope you like tea and tiramisu.... I forgot to ask. It’s ok if you don’t though, I can go get something else for you.” He rambles a little all while holding two small forks.

You smile and laugh. “I love tiramisu and tea. For that matter I love both hot and cold tea. But uh... what’s with the tiny forks?” You ask curiously.

He shyly smiles as you take one. “ I think they’re cute. Honestly, I think all small things are cute.” He looks you in the eye and clears his throat before looking at the cake. “Hope you don’t mind sharing.” He smiles and digs in taking a comedic sized scoop of the cake and shoveling it into his mouth. You laugh and eat some yourself. The flavor explodes in your mouth and you could almost actually believe you're actually sitting with Yunho eating cake. THE YUNHO!

“You’re... You’re Yunho, right? You’re in Ateez?” You question. He stops eating and you see a little powdered espresso on his lips before he swipes his tongue across it and licks it clean. "You’ve heard of us?” He looks so proud. “Of course I love your guys’ music! You’re all extremely talented!” You gush before becoming shy again.

~Don’t be any weirder than you already are. He’s only being nice because you had a panic attack.~

Shut up.

“Thank you! It’s always nice to hear from a fan. ...and such a pretty one at that.” He beams.

~He’s lying.~

SHUTUP.

~He’s supposed to be nice to all-~

SHUTUP. Just... let me be happy for one moment...

Just one single moment.

~.......................~

Yunho reaches across the table towards you and brushes a tear off your face. When did that happen? “Are you okay?” He asks, voice filled with concerned. “Why are you crying?” You wipe the tears that follow in the first ones place... you feel you can tell him...it’s not like you’ll see him ever again anyways right? “I have.... I have intrusive thoughts. It’s like my subconscious always has something mean or hateful to add. I keep having the thoughts lately. Sometimes it feels like its just me and that tiny hateful little voice in the back of my mind. It makes me feel stupid and worthless....” you trail off... you’re talking to much again... the voice always said you talked to much.

Yunho is staring at you... eyebrows scrunched and frown on his perfect face. He stands up and walks over to you. Then turns your chair so that you face him and then pulls you up and out of it. He wraps you in a hug, strong arms incasing you and rests his chin on your head. “Tell that voice, that Yunho said to be quiet and leave you alone. I don’t want you to ever think that way about yourself. If you do, I want you to come straight to me. I know we don’t know each other well but if you feel down I’ll be waiting here for you. You’re a perfect, beautiful human being and you deserve to see yourself and treat yourself as one. So tell that voice to go away and never come back. Okay?”

You stand there... shocked. Unable to produce anymore tears and the feeling of copious amounts of kindness and love radiating from him and the words he’s just said.

I deserve to see and treat myself as a a perfect, beautiful human being.

You nod your head and after several minutes, something that sounds like a ringtone goes off. Yunho releases you and his eyes seem to stare off into the distance before he blinks and looks back down at you. “ That was my phone going off. Unfortunately, i have to go to practice now. It was nice meeting you-... oh wow I’m so sorry I never asked you for your name?”

You smile. “It’s y/n. go on, don’t let me hold you up. Wouldn’t want you to be late for practice.”

He smiles widely, “ Can-... can we meet here tomorrow again? Around 2? If you aren’t busy of course. I want to talk to you more. We can talk about whatever you like. Your day, your life, your likes/dislikes, or your feelings? Whatever you want.” He looks hopeful and anxious, pulling at the bottom of his shirt.

“Sure.” You say filled with more confidence than you ever thought you could muster. In less than an hour, he helped give you back some of your confidence. He helped you realize you were more than that little voice said you were.

That’s how you met him. That’s why you meet up several times a week in a virtual world now. Why you both want to meet up in the real world now. That’s how these cafe dates with HIM started.

#ateez fluff #roommates #for my roommate #ateez yunho #ateez fic #not a fluff writer #not even a writer #i hope it's okay #it's a little after 3 am #intrusive thoughts #depression #cafe

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ephemeral-afterlight · 5 years ago

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Day 15: Scars

(I know you think you’re alone.)

Whumptober 2019 Day 15: Scars

Word Count: 2458

Relationships: Creativitwins (familial) NOT remrom don't tag as remrom or i'll steal your bones and use them to make Halloween decorations

Warnings: Self-harm (c/tting, it doesn't actually happen but it is referenced outright many times. there is mild/non-graphic description of it as well, and scars are referenced multiple times too), mention of self-hatred, mentions of emotional breakdowns, cursing, mild inappropriate language. Lmk if I forgot any!

A/N: i'm not too upset about this one! it's not my best, but it's certainly not my worst. can y'all tell i love writing creativitwins brother dynamic?

dedicated to @illogical-anxieties. love you, dumbass ♥

There’s something calming about running your fingers across the raised lines, about observing the streaks of light painted thin on your skin. It has an almost soothing effect, at least for Roman, and despite the irony of it, hyperfixating on those scars can help prevent him creating more. And creation, being such a prevalent aspect in his function as a side, is definitely not a force to be reckoned with. So he counteracts it the only way he knows how, runs his fingertips softly along the ridges on his forearms, and just breathes. Usually.

Except right now, as he sits here huddled in the corner of his room, it’s not working. It’s not doing what it should be, isn’t tempering his hyperventilation, isn’t nullifying the pain echoing in his heart. Roman doesn’t know what to do. He’s tried hydrating, splashing cold water on his face, holding an ice cube to his skin, and singing Disney songs to distract himself, but nothing is working. Everything feels tense right now, dangerous after his fourth breakdown this week, and he just… wants this all to end.

Roman doesn’t want to feel like this anymore. He doesn’t want to have the urge to dig into his skin, to take a blade to his shoulder until the apathy comes to drown his self-hatred. He doesn’t want to feed his addiction, to give up this easily, but… he yearns. He yearns so deeply for that cold, unforgiving brush on his fragile canvas, for the numbness that comes with it.

He’s in the bathroom rummaging through his drawers like a madman before he even realizes what he’s doing.

And maybe he should think this through more, try harder to resist, but it’s so tempting. He isn’t just helpless toward his relapse, he wants it, and for the first time in seven months, a silver edge comes within an inch of his marred skin. But of course, of course he forgot to lock the door, and his brother barges in the room without a single knock or warning beforehand. He’s jittery, and looks like he’s about to yell something, but then his whole demeanour shifts when he sees Roman bowed over his vanity sink with a razor in his grip. His sleeve is rolled up, and his scars are on full display, and Remus shoots forward to knock the blade out of Roman’s hand with an almost desperate snarl.

“You idiot, what are you doing?!” Remus hisses as he grabs his counterpart’s arm roughly, drags him out of the bathroom and shoves him onto the bed without a hint of gentle treatment to be found. Roman rubs harshly at his forearms and glares at his lap with dull, dark eyes, and slaps his brother’s hand away when he tries to pry his grip off of his damaged limb. “I’m supposed to be the violent one, what the hell do you think you’re accomplishing with this?”

“I’m trying to be better? This is the only way I can-- I can fucking think. I tried. I fucking tried everything I could, every grounding technique and distraction, and nothing’s working. I can’t… I can’t do this,” Roman spits back, anger dissolving easily into resignation. Remus takes a loud, deep breath, clenches his fists so tightly his knuckles go white, and sits there in an odd, silent suspension for some amount of seconds. Once he’s seemingly calmed down, his brother deflates and it’s like all of the stiffness trickles out of him in one fell swoop. It’s strange to watch, considering how easily both of them lose their tempers.

Remus just stares at him, flat gaze boring into Roman’s own, and it feels like there should be some exchange happening here. It’s almost as if Remus is searching for something, something that even Roman himself can’t see. After another long moment where they just observe each other, his brother clicks his tongue in a sudden movement that almost startles. He looks like he’s sizing Roman up, gathering intel with eyes that are bathed in the tempest, and then he’s speaking again. “You haven’t tried everything, I bet. I’ll show you.”

“Remus, you don’t have to do that. Just… let me be. If I wanted to, I could easily wave them away, so. It doesn’t even matter,” Roman mumbles, fingers flitting up to unconsciously trace the scars on his arm, and his counterpart just scoffs.

“Yeah, no shit, of course you can wave them away. But you haven’t, and you won’t, so just shut up and come on,” Remus replies, scalding and protective at the same time, and Roman doesn’t understand. They’re supposed to hate each other. They’re not supposed to hang out, not like… not like they did when they were younger. Their days of running around the Imagination waving plastic weapons at their combined villainous creations have been over for a long time, so why does he even care?

Roman doesn’t know, but he still stands and follows his brother anyway.

They go to the light sides’ common room first, the living room devoid of any presence other than the twins’ own. The others are up in the real world watching a movie with Thomas, if he remembers correctly, so they probably won’t be back until late. Remus gestures to the couch and waits for Roman to sit hesitantly before flopping down himself.

“Try screaming,” Remus tells him plainly, and Roman just gives him an incredulous look. What? What does that mean? Scream? Why? Apparently his brother can easily read the confusion on his face, because he just rolls his eyes and snatches up a throw pillow to place in Roman’s still hands. “Scream. Into the pillow. It helps, so just do it. Here, I’ll do it too, see?”

And Remus just stares at his own pillow resolutely, takes a huge breath, and then smashes his face into the fabric. The pillow doesn’t muffle the sound by very much, but it’s still at a similar volume to his speaking voice, and Roman wrinkles his nose in disgust. Is he joking? And-- no, of course he’s fucking not, he’s Remus. Well… he might as well do it. Roman figures if he’s gonna looks stupid anyway, it should probably be along with someone else, and his brother always looks stupid, so maybe his presence’ll mitigate it a bit.

So he screams. He lets loose a long yell into the stuffed cushion, shouts even louder when Remus laughs beside him and starts yelling into his own pillow again, and this whole situation is awful. They must look so dumb, two twins screaming intermittently into pillows as almost a response to one another, and Roman has to admit, it’s more funny than it is mortifying. Shocking, sure, but Remus somehow manages to make even the silliest things sound serious, so Roman doesn’t even know why he’s surprised in the slightest.

“So? Feel any better?” Remus asks cheerfully when they finally stop to breathe, both sitting back against the couch panting as they clutch their respective pillows to their chests. Roman groans and throws his head back, inhales slowly while he gives the ceiling a scathing glance, and Remus tilts his head in confusion not unlike how a dog would.

“I mean-- I don’t know, I guess? A little bit, but…” Roman trails off and Remus jumps to his feet. His pillow is thrown at the wall as harshly as possible, discarded viciously to smack against and shatter a picture frame. Roman starts with the noise, and then gives his counterpart a disapproving glare. Remus stares him down for a second, then hunches over and groans when he realizes Roman isn’t going to back down on this one, and he moves over to fix the damage with a wave of his hand as he rolls his eyes.

“Right, well. Still not good, huh? Let’s try something else. Follow!” Remus shouts far too loudly, a fairly unreachable sentiment when is comes from Roman himself, and the two of them leave the room.

They go outside next, trek around the house in the beating sun, and Roman sweats from both the heat and the mischievous look in his brother’s eye. The two stop in the backyard beside the porch, and Remus sizes up a blank stretch of brick wall as Roman just shakes the collar of his jacket in an attempt to air it out a little. Remus nods to himself after a couple moments of deliberation, and then summons what seem to be brightly coloured water balloons sloshing around in a blue plastic bucket.

“Water balloons? I don’t want to get wet right now, Remus,” Roman sighs, ignores the suggestive eyebrow wiggle he gets in return, and he crosses his arms when his counterpart grabs a balloon from off the top of the pile.

“Haha, no, dumbass! You’re so silly, of course they’re not water balloons-- they’re paint balloons!” And Roman has to leap forward and snatch the balloon away as Remus is winding up to launch it, berating his pouting brother as he replaces the paint balloons with actual water balloons. Roman doesn’t bother with words, just gives Remus a withering look when he huffs and waves his hand over the balloons again. “Fine. Compromise.”

“There better not be paint in those again, Remus, or I might literally strangle you. Ah-- before you say it, no, not in ‘the fun way’.”

And there isn’t. They’re water balloons, still, but they’re also filled with so many different colours of glitter, and Roman has to admit that the way the sun shines and refracts off of the little flecks coating the side of the building is pretty awesome. But… as pretty as it is, Roman can still feel that itch, that wanting, so they clean up (read: Roman cleans up while Remus tries to swallow a balloon whole. Wait, can Deceit do that?) and head back inside, having managed to stay decently dry.

So they try again. Remus takes him to his own room, drags out a huge canvas and easel from god knows where and swats the dust and cobwebs away from the slightly yellowed surface. It isn’t hard to guess what they’re doing, and Roman wonders if Remus only puts out shades of red acrylic for a reason. He has to admit, though, smearing the page with so many different hues to make an abstract mess of bright claret is surprisingly fun, though he’d never admit that to Remus.

They also attempt to make cupcakes, but that’s all more of Virgil’s thing than anyone else’s. Stress baking is a common occurrence, to the point where Virgil has actually gotten to be extremely skilled, and it does make for a humorous juxtaposition to the other two. Logan is great at cooking because it can not only be precise and measured, but also a creative outlet, and despite his insistence that he is Logic and Logic only, Roman knows that even Logan can create some really amazing, unique things if he tries. Patton, on the other hand… oh boy. Despite his position as a parental fixture within their group, he is awful at making nearly everything related to food. He’s too prone to experimentation and disregarding recipes and measurements outright, which is why baking is always a disaster, and he gets too scared around heat to really cook a proper meal. He does make some really good parfaits, though.

So although he has years under his belt of watching those three do their thing, of learning what to do from Virgil and Logan and what not to do from Patton, Roman isn’t exactly good at baking himself. He’s awesome at decorating, and he’s made some really cool cake artwork before, but the actual baking part is not something he usually ever has to deal with. And Remus… well, Remus is Remus. He purposely switches the salt and sugar in his food, so.

Needless to say, their attempt is an absolute tragedy, but Roman honestly isn’t too mad about it. Sure, they’re both covered in flour, and Roman’s jacket is stained with vanilla extract from a particularly disastrous spill, and Remus has been continually making Roman cringe by crunching on the cakes that are burnt beyond recognition (cupcakes are not supposed to be crunchy, what the fuck) , but Roman’s actually having a lot of fun. Maybe the cupcakes didn’t turn out very well, but Roman hasn’t laughed this hard in a long time, so he’ll take small victories where he can get them.

And the twins don’t stop. They throw darts at headshot pictures of politicians taped to the wall, they have a pillow fight until Roman’s arms feel like jelly, and they go into the Imagination to ride some of the horses there (a white one with an elegant mane for Roman, and a decaying half-skeleton horse for Remus) until the sun is setting in the real world. They do so much, a surprising amount, and it feels just like when they were kids and they used to run around the house together yelling at the top of their lungs and giggling as they ran away from an exasperated Patton. Roman didn’t know how much he missed this until now, but it’s late, and unfortunately it has to come to an end.

“Remus, I’m tired, and nothing’s working… can I just go to sleep?” Roman sighs as they walk back into the main part of the mindscape again, scratching at the back of his neck as Remus whistles a cheery tune. He doesn’t understand how his twin can still be so energetic even after every exhausting activity they’ve participated in today, but it’s somewhat refreshing nonetheless.

“Nothing’s working? But you just went a whole day without cutting yourself! Seems like it worked to me!” Remus exclaims, eyes bright as he grins cheekily, and-- holy shit. He’s right. Roman didn’t cut today. He didn’t hurt himself, even though he was feeling that bad earlier. Even with the stress, and the tension, and the breakdown, he still managed to not give in. Because… because of Remus. Because of his little brother. That sneaky little shit, he knew what he was doing from the get-go. Maybe Roman is sorta proud. Okay, a lot proud.

“Anyway, I-- woah, don’t cry on me! Otherwise I might have to steal your tears and keep them in a jar to use as lube,” Remus snickers, and Roman doesn’t even care about his vulgarity as he brings his brother into a tight hug. He can tell that Remus is surprised, and a little stiff even as Roman squeezes his shoulders with gratitude. But then he’s relaxing a little, laughs more sincerely as he pats Roman’s back, and maybe Remus isn’t so bad after all.

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thetomorrowshow · 5 years ago

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Mutually Beneficial Ch. xxiii

First - Previous - Next - Chapter list

Recommended listening: AJR - Karma

Tw: Roman’s just not having a good time of it y’all

A/N: This is the chapter where every ‘Virgil’ was replaced with ‘Vurgul’. I was . . . very sleep-deprived. I am pretty proud of it, though.

“Roman.”

Roman froze. He knew he should have gone straight to his room and not gone downstairs. Curse his sudden craving for chicken and waffles. He slowly turned. Logan sat in the armchair in the corner of the living room.

“Ah, Logan!” he tried. “How's it going?”

The steely gaze he was met with answered him.

Logan stood, a blanket falling off his lap, revealing grey pajama pants. It reminded Roman that he himself was wearing pajamas, a fact he'd forgotten during his time in the Imagination.

“Do you know how long it's been?” If possible, Logan sounded even more tired than he looked—which was exhausted. The bags under his eyes were so large, Roman thought they might be able to hold an airpod in each one, a rather revolutionary way of storing them. He shook the thought away. That was a stupid thing to come up with—he wasn't Remus, after all.

Roman had an idea of how long it had been, but he said nothing.

“Five hours.” When Roman didn't respond, Logan reiterated. “It has been five hours and twenty-one minutes. Thomas is exhausted. You are aware he has trouble sleeping when you are in the Imagination. Why did you not return home in the time frame I gave you?”

The disapproving tone hit Roman like a ton of bricks. The tears he'd thought were all cried-out threatened to make an appearance. Couldn't Logan tell he felt awful? Of course not, that was ridiculous, and a babyish thing to think. Logan was a 2005 Dell laptop, old and tired and boring and oblivious to feelings. All Roman wanted was for someone to tell him that yeah, things sucked, but they loved him anyway and were proud of him. Was that too much to ask?

“I'll go up to my room,” Roman heard himself mumble. His heart was screaming out for whatever comfort food he could find in the kitchen, but he ignored it and shuffled back toward the staircase.

“Roman, I'm not done speaking.” Roman turned back. Logan looked almost concerned. “You have not been your usual self today,” Logan continued. “Is something wrong? Are you sulking due to a lack of attention?”

Attention was everything he didn't (and did?) want at the moment. Most of Roman wanted to be left alone, wanted everyone to mind their own business and pretend like nothing was wrong. The rest of him wanted them to acknowledge that no, he was not okay, but reassure him that they were here for him every step of the way.

The two conflicting feelings fighting for dominance, Roman said nothing. He ignored Logan's repeated use of his name and trudged up the stairs. He paused at his own bedroom door and looked past it. He could pop in on Patton, see if the fatherly Side was still awake and up for a visit.

He decided against it. He knew Patton would welcome him with open arms, but he really didn't want to bother him. Besides, Patton would probably want to talk with him about what was wrong, ask questions that were too tender to ask.

Roman realized, with a start, that the companionship he desired was Virgil's. Virgil wouldn't ask questions, wouldn't try too hard to make him feel better. Virgil would pop in a Disney movie and grab blankets, and the two of them would enjoy the film until Roman felt reassured and calm enough to sleep. Roman missed Virgil.

Tears once again trying to force themselves from his eyes, Roman quietly went into his own room, shut the door, and collapsed on his bed.

Roman rolled over to his side, sleep blurring his vision. Footsteps up the stairs alerted him to someone coming up to the hall, and he quickly buried himself in blankets. No doubt Logan would be coming to try to talk to him. Sure enough, his door creaked open. A moment passed, then his bed dipped as someone sat on the corner.

“Roman.”

That was Logan. Roman continued to breathe evenly and feign sleep.

“Roman. Roman.”

Logan was persistent. Well, too bad, because Roman's most prominent trait was his dedication. Nobody was going to wake him up from a false sleep.

“Roman, I don't know what the matter is, and I won't unless you tell me.” Logan sounded annoyed. Roman resolved further to not tell him.

“I will be leaving this morning. Please don't let Patton follow. And don't follow yourself, either.”

Roman almost sat up just to say “screw you, I'm coming”, but caught himself just in time and turned the movement into a shift in position.

“I've had an idea. I think I may know a way to get Virgil back. I will possibly be gone for an extended length of time, depending on whether or not my theory is correct. I trust you to take care of Patton.”

The mattress sprang as the weight left it. Roman almost let him go. He almost thought good riddance and went back to sleep. Last minute, he remembered his promise to Virgil.

Roman promised protect them.

“Logan, wait.”

Roman sat up. He could now see the satchel slung over Logan's shoulder, the jacket covering the black polo. Logan paused and turned back. He appeared to have gotten some sleep, but his eyes showed depths of weariness.

“I made a promise,” Roman began, “to keep you and Patton safe. And maybe . . . maybe I've already failed,” he said, thinking of Remus. “But I can't let you walk right into what could be a trap.”

“Roman, I did not request permission.”

“For the best, because I'm not going to grant it.”

Logan's satchel fell to the floor with a heavy thunk. It was clear that he'd been looking for any reason to stay. However, Roman knew that Logan's stubbornness would insist he go anyway. He was proved correct by Logan's next words.

“I can't help you here. I have no reason to stay without knowing what I can do to assist in improving your current condition.”

“I'll tell you everything.” Roman heard the words slip out of his mouth and instantly regretted them. Too late. “Please stay. If not for me, then for Virgil, and Patton.”

Logan shook himself. “Ah, Patton. I ought to check up on him.” He abandoned his satchel and made for the door.

Roman rolled out of bed and shuffled after Logan, headed toward Patton's room. The moral Side wasn't there; Roman assumed Patton was in the bathroom or downstairs. Then he noticed Logan's face pale. Then he saw the folded sheet of paper on Patton's neatly-made bed.

RoLo (haha!),

I hope this letter finds you well. Don't know how it could, though—it doesn't have eyes!

Thanks for sharing your theory with me, Logan. I think I know where it is, so I'll find it. I was blindfolded for part of the way, and, uh, I don't remember the way from when Ro led us, so, uh, I don't know why I'm writing these 'uh's down, I'm writing in pencil, I should have erased them, but too late now—I've already written a bunch after them and then there would be these weird gaps in between words and the eraser might smudge some some stuff so I'll just leave them in. Anyway, er, I don't really know how to say this.

I uh, I might be gone for a while. So I had a message for the both of you. I prepared this in advance, so all I have to do is copy it down. No weird pauses or 'uh's!

Logan, thank you for taking such good care of us. I promise I'm not trying to get Virgil! Please don't come after me. I can do this!

Roman, it's okay to not be okay all the time. You guys taught me that. All sun all the time sounds nice, but a world without rain is a dessert desert. You'll get through whatever this is.

Love you, kiddos! Please don't worry about me. I'm fine.

-Patton

The two didn't speak as the reread the letter. Roman found himself frantically wiping at sudden wetness in his eyes—Patton always knew just what to say.

Finally, Logan broke the silence.

“That . . . run-on sentence. Truly horrifying.”

TAGLIST (please let me know if you want to be added/removed): @i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships @kai-the-person @stop-it-anxiety @shitpost-sides @bl00scl00s @charakitcat @ainsleyf @sandersstuffsblog @ginnyfox617 @enragedbees @minty4green @eggy-boyo @escalatingtoofast @hayden-going-insane @piixelations @supersoftsupersleep @crowsmadreadful @hpdmmdundtl @imnotjustanxiety @thenewlarislynn @mooniecoockie @eden607 @sanderssidesweirdo @cali-the-dreamer @thedukeofdeodorant-main @hankaa-aaaa @atlasistryingherbest

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heroloverangel · 5 years ago

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Anatomy Lesson

Helping UA’s top student with his homework should be fun, right?

“Alright, what’s this one?”

“The, uh...the belly muscle?”

You groan, throwing your head back in exasperation. “Come on, Togata. We just went over this. It’s the diaphragm.” It’s no secret that Mirio’s grades are awful, and as class representative it feels like your duty to help him study. You’d foolishly assumed you could bring him up to speed in his classes, but you’ve been sitting in his room for over an hour now and it’s like you’re trying to tutor a brick wall with your anatomy notes.

He laughs it off despite your agitation. “Sorry. I’m just not really good with subjects that aren’t tied to hero work.” That’s an understatement; he’s in real danger of having his internship suspended if he doesn’t improve.

“I know, and I’m trying to help you. But you have to focus, okay?” He shoots you a thumbs up and to your delight, actually manages to stay on task for a solid twenty minutes without getting distracted. You still have a lot of work to do with his assignments, but you feel much more confident about it now.

You take a quick break to stretch and arch your back. You unintentionally push your chest forward and catch him staring, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks. You’ve always thought Togata was cute; his friendly face and warm personality are a fantastic combination and the fact that you could use his abs as a cheese grater doesn’t hurt either. On his part, he’s about as subtle with his emotions as a punch to the gut. You’ve seen him accidentally knock Tamaki down a flight of stairs in a rush to offer to share an umbrella. It’s impossible to miss the clear interest he’s showing and you can’t resist teasing him a bit.

“See something you like, Lemillion?” He laughs sheepishly and looks away, concentrating on the book in his lap a little too hard to be convincing.

“Just resting my eyes!” He gives you that bright grin again and you drop the subject. “You’re a super good tutor, I bet I’ll start getting the top scores in the class after all your help!” Mirio flips the textbook forward several chapters to a random page. “Now, let’s get back to work and look at the--oh god.” You look down, curious about what’s shaken him up so much, and you’re greeted by an extremely detailed, graphic drawing of an erect penis. Honestly, it’s almost pornographic and for a second you wonder if Midnight was the one who ordered these books.

This is going to be awkward, but you’ll muscle through it. “Alright. Well, you’ve got the head here, and you can see that the foreskin-”

“We don’t have to do this!” He blurts it out, voice pitched higher with embarrassment. “I mean, I already know enough about my willy! So really, we don’t need to spend any time talking about it!” You’ve never seen him blush this hard before, and you’d be lying if you said you don’t like it. He quicky flips the page in a desperate hope of ending the uncomfortable moment and is tragically denied.

You should have known what the next heading in the book would be. Mirio lets out a defeated whine as the two of you are faced with, of course, an equally graphic picture of a vagina. “I suppose you know enough about this one too, huh?”

He looks straight at the wall, the floor, out the window, anywhere but at you. “Um. Not as much,” he admits hoarsely.

You’re enjoying the sight of him squirming way too much. “Tell me about this part.”

“That’s...that is...it’s the, you know...the clit.” He mumbles every word as if he’s being forced to say it at gunpoint.

“And what is it for?”

“...S-sexual pleasure,” His eyes are screwed shut, refusing to even look in your direction. You’re pretty sure he’s on the verge of just phasing through the floor to escape.

You point towards another sketch on the page, your hand accidentally brushing against his. It’s like he snaps out of a trance and freaks, throwing the book to the floor like it’s covered in spiders. “Haha, well I think that’s enough studying for tonight!”

There’s been a very unheroic idea forming in your mind over the past few minutes and you decide to throw caution out the window. “Not yet. I know you worked hard tonight, but I don’t think you quite get it yet.” He looks at you in confusion and you adjust your position on the bed, moving to sit up on your knees in front of him. “I think you might need a more...personal demonstration of that last one.”

Mirio’s eyes flash with realization just as your fingers slip beneath your skirt to your hips. “Hey, what are you--oh.” He watches you slide your panties down your legs and carefully kick them off without revealing yourself. He swallows and forces himself to look only at your face. “Wait, seriously?” You offer him a reassuring smile and sit back on your ass, slowly opening your thighs to offer him a view of your pussy.

You knew he’d be interested, but you weren’t expected the unwavering focus he’s suddenly directing between your legs. “This is still a lesson, Togata,” you remind him playfully. “I expect your full attention here.”

“Sure thing, sensei!” He scoots closer to you on the bed and reaches a hand out before stopping himself. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

It feels like the room gets 100 degrees hotter but you nod before you have a chance to second-guess yourself. His eyes watch you like a hawk as your hand slips down to spread open your folds, giving him a clear invitation to continue. He licks his lips subconsciously and your breath catches in your throat as his fingers lightly trace over your cunt, much more gentle than you’d expect him to be capable of. Your eyes slip closed while he teases you like this, letting out a shaky moan as he circles your clit for a few seconds before withdrawing. You’re getting wet the more he touches you, and it’s almost a welcome relief when you feel one of his big fingers probe at your entrance.

“Ahh, Mirio,” you gasp out and he stops. You open your eyes out of curiosity and find him debating something with himself for a moment before he suddenly grabs you by the hips and hauls you onto his lap.

“I wanna get it right,” he explains and tugs at your clothes. “I’ve been wanting to do...well, all of this with you for so long.” Your shirt’s being yanked off before you can object and he pulls you in for a deep kiss that leaves you breathless. How are you supposed to argue with such a heartfelt confession? You kiss him again, letting his tongue slide into your mouth at the same time you feel him lifting your skirt to bunch uselessly around your waist. His fingers resume their teasing, one of them slipping fully into your waiting body without hesitation. “You’re so soft,” he smiles at you affectionately as he works you over.

You occupy yourself with his own clothes, pulling at his shirt until you get it open and can run your hands along his sculpted chest. Mirio presses another finger into your pussy and you burrow your face in his neck to hide your whimper. He pumps them inside you, relishing the little sounds he drags out of your lips. “You’re really cute,” he says, voice nice and husky with arousal for you. “Come on,” he pulls you back with his other hand. “Let me hear you.” His thumb brushes against your clit and you cry out for him and squirm on his lap. “You like that, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” you pant out. “Just keep touching me like that. Please, Mirio.” Your hands roam over his muscular frame, one coming to rest on his abdomen and sliding down until you can feel the throb of his erection through his clothes. With unsteady fingers you manage to pull the zipper down and get a glimpse of him. The outline of his thick cock is obvious, straining eagery against his boxer-briefs and leaving a stain of precum on the fabric. “Oh, Togata. No wonder you’re failing, there’s no blood going to your brain.” He barks out a laugh at your joke that quickly morphs into a rough groan as you squeeze him over his underwear.

“Good thing I have you then, isn’t it?” He’s merciless on your clit, rubbing firm circles against your swollen bud, drawing more of those sweet little noises out of you that leave his dick aching for more. He pushes a third finger in easily, you’re already soaked and dripping down his palm. The added stretch is amazing and you can feel white-hot tension low in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

He’s watching the scene in front of him with clear delight; the sight of you riding his hand and knowing you’re loving every second of his attention might be the highlight of his life. “Don’t stop,” you beg mindlessly. “Just a little more, please. You feel so good, just like that. Mirio, I-” His mouth crashes down on yours again, wanting to savor your orgasm all to himself. He feels the way your muscles flutter invitingly around his fingers, milking them for more stimulation as you shudder through your climax.

You come back from your high to find your face resting against his firm pecs and his fingers motionless but still buried inside your sensitive cunt. He gives you a warm grin and flexes them teasingly before withdrawing, making a big show of lifting his hand to his mouth and happily licking up every drop of your juices. “Pervert,” you taunt, but there’s no anger in your words and you don’t object when hie grabs you around your hips and pulls you farther up on his broad thighs.

“How far am I allowed to take this?” You can feel the heat radiating off his body, raw desire obvious in every toned muscle.

You chew your lip thoughtfully. “As far as you want,” you decide after a moment. In the blink of an eye he’s phased through his clothes and reformed under you before your legs can even hit the bed. It’s a bit difficult to wiggle out of your skirt without losing contact with him but you manage, and you’re even willing to ignore the sound of a strap being torn completely off your bra in his haste to free you from it. The two of you look each other over for a second, both feeling just a little awkward about progressing into actual sex and then-

“I like your nipples,” Mirio blurts out, destroying the tension immediately. You can’t help but burst into laughter at his outburst and guide one of his warm hands up to grope your chest. Mood restored, there’s only excitement and butterflies in your stomach as you reach for his cock, standing ready and erect against your thigh. His free hand holds you hip to support you as you line him up and slowly sink down onto him. You give yourself a minute to take a breath and adjust to his size, sighing at just how full you feel, with him buried to the hilt in your pussy like this. He’s waiting for your permission, and there’s a spark of fire in his eyes when you begin to move.

You’ve barely managed to set a rhythm before he takes over, not so subtly demanding more from you. Strong hands grip onto your ass, working you up and down his dick with little effort on your part. You reach for his shoulders for support and find yourself fixating on the impressive arms caging around you. You watch the thick muscles of his biceps flex with every move, coupled with the feel of his strong thighs catching you every time he drags you down to bottom out inside you, together has you seeing stars. Eventually you drag your focus up to his face and see he’s equally interested in the sight of your breasts jiggling with the force of his movements, meeting your gaze with an unashamed smirk. “You alright there? I’m not being too rough, am I?”

It’s sweet that he makes the effort to check on you, even in the heat of the moment. “You’re good. You’re--ah!” You’re interrupted by an especially energetic thrust, voice cracking into a jittery gasp. “Really, really good.”

His lips are on yours once again without a second thought. “I could kiss you forever,” he admits, surprisingly romantic as he angles you back a bit to get a better view of your dripping cunt taking him over and over. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight.” You can’t hide your moan, the tingle that goes through your spine at his comment. Mirio picks up on it immediately and can’t resist teasing you a bit. “You like that? Hearing how good you make me feel?” He brings a hand up to your face, lifts your chin to look at him. “Who knew you’re so cute when you get all blushy like this?” You wonder if he’s just trying to goad you into more kisses, but it proves to be a good way of shutting him up.

It’s hard to keep up with a man who has seemingly infinite stamina and it’s not long before it all threatens to overwhelm you. You slide a hand down between your bodies, intending to push yourself over the edge but he catches your wrist in a firm grip instead. “Hold on,” he warns, never slowing in his pace; his cock is rubbing against a sensitive spot inside you with every thrust and it’s driving you mad. “I’m getting really close, do you want me to pull out?”

You don’t even have a single brain cell left to waste on debating it. “It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

Mirio groans into your neck and releases your hand to wrap his arms tighter around you. “You’re so great,” he huffs out, lips trailing over your jaw like he’s addicted to the taste of your skin. He watches as you slip your fingers down to stroke your clit and between your movements and all his attention, it barely takes you a minute before you’re shivering with your climax. You’re hardly aware of the constant, steady rhythm of his thrusts growing increasingly sloppy; all you can focus on is how good he feels surrounding you, inside you, on the verge of filling you up and you love it. It takes you a second to realize he’s talking you through it, tone warm and rough as he mindlessly praises you. “So...so sweet, and pretty....smart and cute, nice and tight and wet for me…oh, shit...”

His words devolve into a needy growl, hips stuttering wildly underneath you and it takes all the control he still has to stop himself from digging bruises into your body. He ruts up into you one last time, fast and hard and you can feel his dick twitch within you, spilling warm cum deep inside your cunt.

You stay like this for a minute or two, listening to each other’s breathing slow and calm down. You glance up at his face, a little worried this might be an awkward ending to your hands-on demonstration, but the moment you lock eyes you both burst out laughing.

“That was fun,” you manage out through giggles. “I hope you learned something from that lesson.”

He nods, wide grin beaming on his face. “Class rep is a real pervert and likes it when I fill her up.”

You snort; it’s a good enough answer for tonight. Carefully you climb off him, your thighs aching from being spread open on his lap and your legs having a distinct jello-like feel to them. Mirio helps you gather your discarded clothes, apologizes sincerely for ruining your bra and promises to buy you a new one. You look around for your underwear, and to your surprise an arm snakes around your waist and your equally naked classmate hugs you against his chest.

“So…” He rests his head on your shoulder and you instinctively lean into him. “Are we dating now? I mean, do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He’s still smiling, but you can tell he’s serious. “I meant it earlier, about how long I wanted to do this. I don’t know if you noticed, I’m pretty sneaky about it, but I’ve kinda had a huge crush on you forever.”

“Never would have guessed,” you joke, tracing your fingers over his arm. “I’d like that-” You hold up a finger before he can celebrate. “-but you have to get your grades up and pass your classes, okay?”

Your new boyfriend agrees without a moment of hesitation. “I can totally do that! I’ll be the best student in the school in a week, just watch!” You admire his enthusiasm, getting caught up in his mood and find yourself pulled back into his bed before you have a chance to question it. “Can we study again? And hey, you should sleep over, that way we can have another lesson before class in the morning!”

You roll your eyes but your arms reach up to pull him on top of you. You’re not worried about his scores anymore, you know he’ll pull it off now that he’s properly motivated.

#lemon #mirio togata #bnha x reader #mirio togata x reader

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janelevy · 5 years ago

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the ladies go bowling!

this was a request from @thena0315 but i’m almost positive this ended up straying from what you imagined it would be, so my apologies haha!

summary: the ladies of med go out for the night to have some fun. to be honest this turned into an absolute crackfic because i ended up making fun of the crazy crap the med writers have inflicted on the women in this show. i got some hella bad news today so i really needed to make myself laugh, and this helped! i hope y’all like it too <3

mentions of cheating, sexcel (barely), and reesker!

“I can’t believe you’re making us go bowling.”

Natalie stopped and stared at Ava with her mouth hanging open in disbelief. “Hey! What’s wrong with bowling?” She motioned at the building in front of them. “I take Owen here all the time. It’s really nice.”

April smirked. “I don’t know, I sooner would’ve expected you to take us to an orchestra or opera concert or something.”

“Why would I take you to an orchestra when you can hear me play the violin in the comfort of my living room?” Natalie asked, adding an eye roll to show she was joking.

Despite that, Sarah frowned and clicked her teeth nervously. She was the last person to hop out of Natalie’s massive SUV. Nat claimed it wasn’t a minivan - it was a Honda Pilot or something like that - but with plenty of interior space and seven seats, it may as well have been a van.

“Your living room? With your kid’s toys all over the floor to, like, trip on? No thanks,” Sarah said.

Maggie crossed her arms at the youngest doctor. “Hey, Reese, be nice. You know Nat is the cleanest one out of all of us.”

“Still, though. Children make me nervous,” Sarah replied.

“Why?”

“I dunno... they’re just. A lot to handle all at once. I can deal with craziness from adults, we do that at work every day, but kids... yikes.”

They all pretended not to notice the way Ava’s hand slid comfortingly down Sarah’s arm, nor the way Sarah’s shoulder lingered close to the surgeon’s as they walked inside the bowling alley. To help conceal her surprise at that, Natalie gave an exaggerated sigh. “Ugh, it’s so hard being the only mom in the friend group sometimes. You’ll understand someday when you have kids of your own.”

April nodded, but Ava snorted. “Bold of you to assume we - she will have kids.” She was quick to correct herself, but they all still caught her misstep. Maggie leaned close to April and muttered in her ear, “I wish Monique and Doris could’ve come along to hear this.”

The place was pretty busy for a random Thursday night. The five of them had decided to go out after work together since their shifts all ended around the same time and the day had been fairly quiet, so nobody was drop-dead exhausted (yet). They all piled into Nat’s car in the hospital parking lot; someone suggested going to drink and dance at Molly’s, but it was shot down and somehow they ended up here of all places. A couple of kids high on nachos and fruit punch sprinted past them screaming, and Sarah grimaced.

They all chipped in to buy an hour of bowling along with five pairs of stinky, well-worn bowling shoes. Of course they’d seen and smelled much worse, so the shoes weren’t a huge issue. As they headed over, Natalie at the lead, she asked, “Wait, which lane are we at again?”

“Trauma three,” Maggie answered automatically. It was only when the others started laughing that she understood her mistake. “Oops. I meant lane three. It’s been a long day.”

For the most part, they passed time with small talk and cheering on each other’s utter fails. Nearly every time Sarah’s ball landed in the gutters, and Maggie’s ball had a knack for slipping right in between easily hittable pins. Of course only Nat seemed to have some talent, but that could be accounted to her frequent weekend visits with Owen.

About halfway through April bought everyone a plate of crappy bowling alley nachos to share. “Bet eating these won’t land us right back at work,” Ava joked. Sarah dropped a plastic cheese laden chip in her mouth and went to take her turn. The first round she hit two pins, and the next none. This was really going great.

Then she went back to where the others were sitting and was greeted with complete silence. It was like a solid brick wall of silence, in fact. Sarah halted, the soles of her too-small bowling shoes screeching on the floor. All four of her coworkers were just sitting, staring at each other in apparent shock. “What?” Sarah demanded. “I’m not that bad, am I? Remember that time Ava’s ball didn’t touch a single pin two turns in a row? That was, like, twenty minutes ago.”

“It’s, uh...” Natalie gulped and shook her head quickly. “It’s nothing.”

“It obviously wasn’t,” Sarah countered. She chuckled nervously and stepped up on the platform where the table was. “Seriously, what happened?”

Ava swallowed her bite of nacho and gestured at Natalie. “Nat here shared that she thinks her lovely ex Philip is stalking her. I just did surgery with Connor on that prick’s daughter. See? No big deal.” Then she shoved another nacho in her mouth, neon orange cheese dripping on the table.

The pattern of big revelations during Sarah’s turn to bowl was far from over, of course. Next time she went, she was three pins away from what would’ve been a miracle strike, and again when she returned to her friends, nobody uttered a peep.

“What now?” Sarah said, face falling.

Ava jabbed a finger in Maggie’s direction. “She forged Nat’s signature to get Ben out of the hospital last week, then sneaked him back in as if nothing happened.”

By the third time, this was really getting old. Sarah walked up to the table of stunned women and she almost swore from the glint in Ava’s hazel eyes that she was enjoying this drama.

“Well?” Sarah growled. “What did I miss now?”

“April cheated on Ethan and kissed Crockett yesterday.” Ava polished off the nachos, and every crunch grated on Sarah’s nerves.

“Maybe I just shouldn’t even go for my next turn,” Sarah said, sitting back down as April got up to go. “Apparently you all choose to say something interesting when I’m gone.”

Ava winked. “Maybe that’s not a coincidence.”

When Sarah’s final turn rolled around a few minutes later, she honestly did not want to vacate the area. It was too tempting to stick around and see what would be revealed next. But they insisted nothing would happen and shooed her away. Sarah didn’t even care which direction her bowling ball went; she dropped it on the floor and practically kicked it to get it moving faster. Somehow, though, she still missed it despite making every effort to rush through her turn.

Sarah zoomed back to the table, panting, and looked around at the thoroughly shook expressions on everyone’s faces. “Come on!” she whined. She swung her head toward Ava. “What happened?”

Ava smiled widely at her. “Well, Reese, I let it slip that we eloped six months ago so I wouldn’t get deported to South Africa.”

Sarah knew her jaw had to be on the floor at this point. A flash of anger passed through her only to be replaced with relief. “Well,” she sighed, shrugging. “At least now we can kiss and hold hands in front of everyone at work. I was really getting tired of hiding it.” She dropped down to perch herself on Ava’s lap and grinned politely at the others. “Anyway, I think you all might need some help.” She threw her arm behind Ava’s shoulders and planted a big kiss on her cheek. “You know, guys, I actually really like bowling. It’s like, super therapeutic, even better than Dr. Charles. We should do this again for sure. Ooh, and can we invite Elsa next time?”

Ava laughed, but all that she got in response otherwise was stunned silence.

Then April asked, “So... are we just gonna forget what happened with your dad, or?”

Natalie leaned over the table to look at Ava. “Ava, how’s Cornelius Rhodes doing?”

Sarah and Ava frowned at each other. Oh, shit.

#chicago med #sarah reese #ava bekker #april sexton #natalie manning #maggie lockwood #reesker #fanfic

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years ago

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day One Hundred Seventy-Five: A Working Relationship ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Fugaku ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

There’s many reasons why pretty much any company worth its salt will tell you: avoid relationships between coworkers. Not only can it be disruptive of workflow while it’s happening, but...if things go south? It’s about to get awkward in the office while any personal warfare goes on.

Which...is precisely what’s going on now.

Every time he comes in, Sasuke feels the death glare against his back, expression set to a stony blank.

He really should have known better than to agree to date his secretary...he didn’t even really like her, he just...felt like he had to.

Biggest. Mistake. Ever.

Now every morning, Sakura Haruno turns into an ice queen. One word replies to his requests, blatantly ignoring her duties as a way to slight him, and even flirting with his brother...which was laughable, given he’s a married man.

“I told you not to take that road,” Itachi mutters one morning in the break room when the pair get a moment alone.

“I didn’t want to.”

“Then why did you?”

“In all honesty? No clue. Can I fire her?”

“For being an ex? No.”

“She’s not doing her job, Itachi! She sits and works on her nails all morning, refuses to take calls, isn’t filing the right paperwork! It’s almost like she wants to be let go.”

Sipping his coffee, Itachi considers that. “...I suppose that would spite you, having to pay unemployment if we terminate her.”

“You mean this isn’t with cause? She’s not unskilled or being cut back, she’s blatantly refusing to do her job!”

“I’m afraid that’s not my area of expertise - I’ve never had to fire anyone...yet.”

The younger brother heaves a curt sigh. “...this is bullshit.”

Itachi just gives a side eye look Sasuke chooses to ignore. “...fire her if you want. But I would make sure you’ve got the right evidence first, or it’ll be an HR nightmare.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

And so he does. Logs emails of her refusals and dancing around why she doesn’t get her work done, when in the past it was apparently a piece of cake. Gets video of her fiddling with her manicure while the phone is ringing off the hook. And once he has enough, he presents it to the head of personnel.

...his father.

“She’s being blatantly disrespectful, and is no longer performing her duties to an adequate level,” he reports...having practiced his delivery all morning.

Fugaku pours over the pieces of proof his son brought before looking over his glasses at him. “...this isn’t you being petty?” he asks bluntly.

“No, sir. It’s her that’s being petty. Like I said, she’s not doing her job. And I can’t have my branch suffering because she’s got a personal gripe with me.”

“One you instigated.”

The younger man’s neck goes red in embarrassment.

Leaning back in his chair with a sigh, Fugaku pinches the bridge of his nose. “...I’ll type up a letter of termination and deliver it tomorrow. I hope you’re ready to adapt to a new secretary. And until then, you’ll have to manage without one.”

“I pretty much have since she started acting like this.” A pause. “Maybe try to get a guy this time,” Sasuke mutters.

“Maybe you should try to keep it in your pants around your coworkers,” Fugaku retorts, subtly smirking as his son chokes. “I’ll find who’s best for the position, end of story.”

“...yes, sir.”

With that weight off his shoulders, Sasuke does his best to finish up his day as Sakura continues her tiny acts of vengeance. He is never sleeping with a coworker again. This is ridiculous...who knew women could be so petty? Surely she realized he never really wanted to be with her...what’s there to be so upset about?

Yeesh.

The next morning...he calls in sick.

No way he’s about to have to watch her clear out her desk and possibly get murdered before she takes her leave.

He’s not questioned.

Besides, he really is sick...his stomach throws a fit every time he thinks about it.

The following day, he peers cautiously around the corner to her desk.

...it’s empty.

Giving the hallways one last glance, Sasuke slinks into his office, noticing a message on his computer.

It’s from Itachi. And all it contains is a disappointed emoji.

Oh piss off, Sasuke mentally mutters. Acting all high and mighty...he’s never had to deal with this. Nooo, elder brother had that fairy-tail childhood sweetheart to occupy him nearly his entire life. Sasuke, on the other hand, has fumbled through the ideas of relationships and love ever since he learned they were a thing. So, Itachi has no room to judge, in his not so humble opinion.

“So, do I get a say in who gets hired?”

“Nope,” Fugaku replies, reading over a letter and ignoring his son’s wilt.

“...really?”

“They might be your secretary, but they’re part of this company. And I’m in charge of who’s hired and fired.” He glances over the papers he’s holding. “...I’ll bear your general opinion in mind.”

A bit wary at what that’s supposed to mean, Sasuke tries not to think about it.

The process, as it turns out, takes a few weeks. From taking in applicants, to narrowing it down, to giving interviews, interviews, and...more interviews. The position’s highly sought, after all, and finding the one most suited isn’t a simple task.

So it takes over three weeks before someone’s picked, and another until they’re ready to start. And Fugaku gives no hints: his typical brick wall.

Come Monday morning, Sasuke actually gets to work a bit early for once, eager to get a glimpse at his new helping hand.

When he peeks around the corner, she’s busy arranging her desk. Ugh, she...why’s it gotta be a woman?! And...damn it, she’s actually really cute...how’s he supposed to maintain a casual working relationship with someone like her? With her long dark hair, her pretty eyes, heart-shaped face and...and…?

...he can’t bring himself to note the rest in words. But he’s not just appreciating her blouse. Sakura never had any...outfits like that, to say the least.

But, he can’t just stand here all day. Taking a step back and a deep breath, he makes as though he’s just arrived, turning around the corner fully at last.

The movement draws her gaze. She has the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen: a milky lavender color...it almost looks a bit unnatural. Contacts, maybe? They’re on the larger side, a kind of pleasant innocence to them. Like a fresh-faced recruit. Hands folding at her front, she offers, “Hello! You must be Sasuke…?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Sasuke Uchiha.” He offers a hand, which she takes, and...surprisingly gives a firm handshake.

“Hinata Hyūga.”

Hyūga...wait...isn’t there some big medical tech company that’s run by someone named Hyūga? He’ll have to google that… “So, first day, huh?”

“Yes! I hope we’ll work well together.” She flashes a pleasant smile, and aw crap she’s so stupidly cute! Little dimples form in her cheeks, taunting him.

“I’m sure you will.” He manages a brief quirk of his lips, nerves rattling him a bit. “Things have been a little slow as of late, so...that should help give you time to adjust. If you need any help with anything, just let me know, I’ll walk you through it.”

“That you, Mister Uchiha.”

“Ugh, please...just call me Sasuke. There’s too many ‘Mister Uchiha’ around here,” he can’t help but mutter, earning a laugh.

“Does it get a little confusing?”

“A little? I’m always turning around to a conversation that’s not mine. Brother, father, cousins...they’re everywhere.”

“The joys of a family-run company, huh?”

“Guess so…”

“My father’s is the same way. It’s...part of why I left,” she admits with a laugh behind a hand. “I was a little tired of being a Hyūga in a sea of Hyūga!”

Well, that just about confirms his suspicions. “Work there before here?”

“Yes, since I was sixteen! So, I’ve got a lot of experience - I’ll do my best to put it to good use,” she assures him with another gut-wrenching smile.

At that, Sasuke just gives a curt nod. He’s gotta get away from her, this is ridiculous… Entering his office, he sinks into his chair with a sigh...and then looks up at the ping of a message.

Another emoji from Itachi. This time a warning look alongside a waggling finger.

...damn it.

.oOo.

Welp, not much to explain about this one xD Sasuke's got some rotten luck when it comes to secretaries, hasn't he? But maybe that'll turn around this time, heh heh~ But uh...yeah - guess that's really that, haha! Thanks for reading~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #haruno sakura #uchiha itachi #uchiha fugaku #best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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kenzie-kitty · 6 years ago

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Enemies? -Batman/Joker

Written a few years ago as a request from an old friend. It’s a one-shot for the Batman and Joker from The Dark Knight. I thought I should share the story here and hopefully someone likes it. :) ~Kenzie

Plot: Basically, its PWP although there’s kind of plot but it’s to make the smut less out of place. Also I got carried away lol. Joker and Batman fall for each other and things get confusing and sad and then happy. Also, trigger warning for the last two parts.

I’ll post it in a couple seperate posts because it’s kinda long

Enjoy the roller coaster of emotion haha!

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

He was trapped in that dimly lit interrogation room again, the one he seemed to always find himself in. He supposed he could call it his own now; his blood has been on practically every one of the bricks. He could even still see where his head had cracked the window last time he was here.

Joker hummed to himself a random tune he’d just thought of, filling the silence of the room with his off-key, nasally voice. He started tapping his long fingers on the metal table, smirking as he realised he probably had an audience behind the window. Suddenly, the metal door creaked open and the caped crusader stepped inside.

“Well, hello there, Batsy,” Joker greeted sarcastically, giving a saucy wink. “Now, what brings you here?”

Batman strode over to the table and sat in the chair across from the clown. “You know exactly what,” the caped man retorted, his gravelly voice sending shivers down Joker’s spine.

Joker sighed through his nose, ignoring his random emotions as he usually did. “Then let’s get this going. Places to be, people to slaughter. Y’know, the usual?”

Batman glared through his mask and frowned with tight lips. “Where’s the girl, clown?”

“Which one?” Joker winked jokingly, “Sometimes I get all confused, what with all the ladies that throw themselves at me.”

“She wasn’t throwing herself at you, she was trying to get away. Now, where is she,” Batman growled.

Joker threw his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll tell you on one condition,” he taunted, not fully thinking through his offer. He kept a calm face, running his tongue along the sensitive scars inside his cheeks, as his mind spun; thoughts like, ‘what the hell was I thinking! I wasn’t, but I can’t let him in on that; not now, not ever’ buzzed through his brain.

Batman stared at him expectantly, letting out an annoyed huff when the clown failed to explain. “What,” he snapped, the word more an order than a question.

Joker fidgeted slightly, feeling his face redden under his makeup as he tried to think of something safe to say. Batman glared impatiently, his glare getting darker; Joker was instantly distracted, wanting to feel that anger in another, better way.

“Joker! If you don’t speak-”

“What? What’ll you do, hm? Hurt me?!” Joker cackled in his sardonic way, somehow making his words sound less suspicious. Batman growled and stood abruptly from his chair and pulled Joker up from his own chair, shoving him against the wall with his forearm across Joker’s chest.

“Yes,” he hissed in Joker’s face. “What’s the condition, clown.”

Joker flicked his tongue quickly across his lips and breathed as slowly as he could, hoping the caped vigilante wouldn’t press up against him any further. Especially not against his increasingly tightening pants.

“Uhm… well… uh… how about… a, uh, ride on your, uh…,” Joker stammered, trying to think through his foggy mind.

Batman rose an eyebrow, although you wouldn’t be able to tell from looking at him; his expression seemed more like he was just staring angrily at his nemesis as usual.

“Bat Bike. Yeah, a ride on your Bat Bike and I’ll give you the girl,” Joker decided, nodding his head to himself.

Batman was confused. His Bat Bike? Why would Joker want a ride on his bike? His dark brown eyes narrowed suspiciously as he decided to go along with the clown’s conditions.

“Give us the girl and then you can ride on the bike. But I drive,” he said, dropping Joker to his feet and stepping back. He thought he saw something in the clown’s pants, near his pocket, but Joker stepped to the side blocking Batman’s view.

“Deal! The girl’s at the old gas station at the end of the, uh, twenty-second block.”

Batman nodded at the window, letting the cops know that they could get Joker’s hostage on their own. He then turned back to the clown, who looked slightly awestruck for a split second before his face went back to its usual blank look, and huffed quietly. He’d actually have to go through with the deal, it seemed.

Batman begrudgingly led Joker out of the police station (hiding him from the officers, who would’ve shot the clown in an instant) and to his waiting Bat Bike. He climbed on first then waited only a second before he felt the Joker sit behind him. He shook his head, still confused as to why the clown would ask for this. The Bike started on the first try and they sped off away from the station. As they accelerated, Batman felt thin yet strong arms slide around his waist and he turned his head to give the Joker a confused look.

“What? I’d rather not die, thank you very much,” the clown’s sarcastic comeback had to be practically screamed in order to be heard over the Bike’s engine.

Batman grumbled to himself, finding he didn’t actually mind how he felt in this position. He couldn’t deny it was strange, anything including the clown was, but he couldn’t say it was as concerning as bomb threats or car chases.

“Where to, Joker?”

Joker smirked behind the broad back of the caped vigilante as he thought of many places he’d love to be. ‘Is between your legs an option? How about kneeling at your feet?’ His thoughts were making him blush underneath his diminishing makeup, but the cold wind slapping him in the face cooled him down enough; he just had to keep his lower “friend” under control until he got back to his makeshift hideout. Speaking of the hideout, he decided he couldn’t just give it to the Batman, so he pointed him in the direction of an abandoned bakery near the south end of Gotham.

“A bakery? What, couldn’t find a joke shop you liked?” Batman quipped as soon as they stopped. He almost missed the Joker’s arms around his waist; almost.

Joker gave his usual little giggle at the Batman’s jest toward him then turned and walked toward the bakery as though it was his destination. The walk to the abandoned joke shop where he’d actually been staying was a relatively short one, but he needed to clear his mind of his Dark Knight. ‘No! Stop calling him that, he isn’t yours. He never will be, you crazy clown!’

If only one could kill their subconscious; Joker’s would be torn to a million pieces if he could get a knife in it. Well, he could, but he wanted to outlive that little annoying voice.

His walk ended much too shortly and his mind was still stuck on the caped crusader. His henchmen were out, probably sleeping away the night at some run down motel; they prefered to be away from him when they slept and he didn’t care to have them ruining his beloved quiet time.

All of a sudden, he was exhausted and his little bed in the back room of the foreclosed shop was calling his name; his damned mind was making him hear the familiar gravelly voice of his bat. Angrily stripping down to his purple and green striped boxer briefs, he climbed into the bed and went to sleep, not bothering to wash off the greasepaint.

~~~~~~~~~~ (this dream’s a lot kinky and then sadness)

It was dark and raining in Gotham, but the Joker was protected from the wet drops by the warm walls of a house. He’d never seen it before in his life, but somehow felt… happy here. He was in a bedroom; dark blue curtains were open around the window, the bed he was reclining on had deep purple sheets and a black comforter, and the other furniture was the same dark wood.

Suddenly the door to the bedroom opened and a man in dark blue boxer briefs and a black bat mask stepped in. Joker recognised his Dark Knight even though he was sure the real man’s body would be scarred; he knew for sure that there would be many muscles to run his hands and lips over.

“What’s wrong, J? You look surprised to see me,” came the voice that never failed to send shivers down Joker’s spine.

“I, uh, I just wasn’t sure you’d be here,” Joker replied quietly, looking back out the window.

He felt the other side of the bed depress from the weight of a body sitting down on it and turned to see his knight’s masked face right in front of his own. His green eyes glanced at the salmon-colored lips of the man next to him. He barely saw the smirk before those lips connected with his; his heart skipped a beat a he returned the kiss wholeheartedly. He’d waited a long time for this moment and he wasn’t about to pass it up.

Nor was he going to stop the hand that landed on his thigh and slid slowly up until he felt the tug at the leg of his briefs, or the tongue that pushed through his lips and moved as though Batman was memorising Joker’s mouth. The clown moaned lightly as his bat’s hand slid over the rest of the fabric to pull at the waistband, the piece of clothing easily being tugged off and thrown out into the room.

Joker found himself being shoved down onto his back, held down by the weight of the larger man. Their lips never disconnected as Batman placed Joker’s legs over his shoulders and positioned himself so the tip of his cock was pressed against Joker’s entrance. The scarred man squirmed, trying to push himself onto his lover’s member, moaning as he felt himself being stretched.

“I’m not hurting you, am I,” Batman asked in a murmur as he broke the kiss, concerned eyes staring lovingly down at Joker the way he’d always wanted.

“I’m not complaining, am I?” Joker retorted breathlessly, smirking up at his lovely bat.

The grunts and moans and other happy sounds filled the air as the two supposed enemies made love. The sheets were damp with sweat and cum when Batman rolled to the side of his Joker, pulling the clown into his arms. They laid there, intertwined, as they came down off their love high. Joker lifted his head and planted a soft kiss on his bat’s lips.

“I love you, my Dark Knight.”

“I know,” a cruel voice mocked. Insane cackling much like Joker’s own filled his head as darkness covered him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Joker awoke suddenly, the cackling echoing through his mind and tears seeping from the corners of his eyes. It had been the same every morning for the last couple months, and he was sinking deeper into his depression. He’d actually thought about ending it, not feeling as though it wouldn’t make a difference if he did, but he found that if he did something dangerous like robbing mob banks or getting in car chases he could ignore it. The rush kept him in a good mood and if he was successful he could have a night without mental pain.

He rolled out of the bed and grabbed his discarded clothes off the floor. His coat was still at the police station, he realised with annoyance. He’d just have to get another one, along with new weapons.

~~~~~~~~~

Bruce Wayne woke up with a gasp. ‘What the hell was that dream about?’ his mind screamed at him as he remembered what his mind had created.

He had been with the Joker; like, with the Joker. In bed. Naked! He had to admit that the dream clown wasn’t bad looking, even with the makeup, but Wayne wasn’t into guys… was he? He figured he had just eaten something that disagreed with him and that it was a one-time dream.

Just as he sat up in his bed, Alfred stepped into the room with a tray for breakfast.

“Good morning, Master Wayne,” he greeted cheerfully, giving his master a smirk as he nodded vaguely toward the rumpled sheets. “Have a good dream, did we, Master Wayne?”

Bruce glanced down and bunched the covers over his lower half more than they already were. “No, actually, I’m not sure what kind of dream I had.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I thought we went over this when you were younger. I suppose I could find it in myself to give you ‘the talk’ again,” he teased.

Bruce shook his head, too confused about his dream to be too embarrassed. Alfred left his room, leaving the tray on a small table, and Bruce finally stood from the bed to pull on a pair of dress pants. As he was eating the toast with grape jelly, he pressed the power button on the TV remote; the news station flashed onto the screen. The news report that was playing made him pause in chewing and set his food back on the tray.

Joker had held another robbery. ‘Hasn’t he taken enough money? I thought it wasn’t about the cash?’ Bruce shook his head, smirking, as he realised he’d never understand his clown.

‘Wait. What?! His clown?! Where did that come from?’ His smirk flew away as he realised what he’d thought. He shook his head and again marked it off as bad food; he’d have to ask Alfred what was in his dinner the night before.

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

Joker was surprised at how quickly a coat could be made when the maker is afraid of the one requesting the coat; he’d found the home-owned business he’d originally bought the outfit from and had told them to make just the coat. He could keep wearing the rest of the outfit, they didn’t get taken off as often as the coat, so he wasn’t going to make himself more things to carry around.

The weapons were a different story; his favorite blade couldn’t be replaced, he had too much history with it to just get a new one. Sure, he had many others, but he really only cared about the one. He considered somehow breaking into the police station, but he didn’t feel like being in there without some form of leverage to use against them.

So, three hours after dawn he had a new coat and a bad mood. He shoved a few of the extra guns and grenades he had stored in the joke shop into his inner pockets and grabbed two different blades, a shorter throwing dagger and a switchblade. He then called one of his henchmen to bring four others to join in on a robbery.

The five men met in a blank white van a couple blocks away from the bank of choice to come up with a last minute plan. Joker hadn’t thought through anything before calling them, he just knew he’d wanted to do something exciting. They decided to go with their usual plan.

They pulled the clown masks over their faces and loaded their guns, grabbing the duffel bags they’d supplied themselves with as they walked quickly to the bank doors. As they stepped inside, Joker shot his gun in the air to get the citizens inside on the alert.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a robbery! Get on the ground with your hands up and heads down!” His shouting echoed through the large building as the people sank to the floor with their hands above their downturned heads. Even with the Bozo mask on, they knew who he was and weren’t stupid enough to try to turn against him.

His men gathered the money in the duffels as Joker and one other man stalked down the isles of people, making sure no one ruined their plan. As the group of five quickly carried the duffels out to the van, Joker realised that he wasn’t as excited as he usually was whenever he did something that could potentially end in death. He felt… numb, in a depressing way.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Next part in another post.

Feel free to send requests, I’m open to BatJokes still.

Please don’t steal my work, I did work hard on this.

#batjokes #batman x joker #fanfiction #oneshot #pwp #the dark knight #imagine #smut #lemon #enemies #dark knight imagine #tdk imagine

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serifsans · 3 years ago

Text

1993

Vlad knows this is a bad idea.

They broke up for a reason. It was a mutual decision and a lot of thought went into it. It made sense. It was stupid to stay together when neither of them could really be happy. Vlad didn’t have enough time in him for a boyfriend amid all the other shit he was dealing with and Jean-Paul feared the regulators too much. People can be pleasant memories you look back on fondly but never revisit and that’s okay.

He calls him anyway.

He doesn’t expect Jean-Paul will even answer. He’s always busy, always throwing himself into his latest project no matter how small, and besides, maybe he’s changed his number or maybe he’s taking a bath or maybe he’s gone out for a walk or maybe he’s doing this or that or something else.

“Hello, Jean-Paul speaking,” he says in that ridiculous, absolutely fake posh accent and though Vladimir does not cry, he almost wants to.

“Hey. It’s me,” he says and then every thought dies in his head.

“May I ask who’s calling?”

Vladimir bites his lip, an annoying habit of his from childhood he can’t seem to shake. Has he forgotten him already?

“It’s me,” he says and he is not desperate, he is never desperate. “Volchenkov. It’s me.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line.

“Vladimir?” asks the volph in a tone that is one half wonder and one half disbelief. “Is that really...oh. Oh wow. Say my name. Say my name, please.”

Oh, never mind, he knows the issue. Voice change hit him like a truck of bricks. It’s been a long time since they’ve spoken.

“Paulie,” he says. “Jean-Paul. Poinsette. Fancy little fucker. You little shit. How does that sound?”

There’s a titter of laughter on the other end and when the volph speaks again, he’s breathy in a way that he’s missed so much.

"You sound absolutely divine,” he says. “I’d pay money to listen to you read a takeout menu."

“Yeah? There’s a Chinese place up the street, maybe I run up there and grab one,” Vladimir says. “...It’s good to hear your voice. It’s been...maybe too long. How is...you’re still in Jersey, right? How is it?”

“Oh, it’s still New Jersey. What else can I say? To tell the truth, I’ve been thinking about leaving. Making a fresh start. That sort of thing. If I’m cleaning up my act, then I need to clean up my company. They’re trying to get me in the business again. Dreary stuff.”

Vladimir should not feel hope at this. Vladimir should not feel like this is an opportunity. He should not do this, he should not, he shouldn’t.

“Yeah. Yeah, that is a good idea, leaving. If you stay, it’s harder to stay out of it all,” he says. “I am moving again myself. San Francisco or near it. Very soon.”

“Oh? Has something happened? I thought you adored San Diego, darling. Oh, is it okay to still call you darling?”

"Yeah, if I can still call you asshole. I accepted a job. The tech industry, it’s all there these days. We’re making a thrift store but on the Internet. It’s exciting. I’m excited. There are other reasons too. It’s just time, I guess. I’ve been here too long.”

He also feels like he successfully conned the entire team into thinking he remotely knows what the fuck he's doing but he’s getting a hell of a good salary out of this, so maybe he’s just an amazing conman.

"That’s fantastic! Haha, you’re finally going to have to wear that suit I bought you, there’s no excuse not to wear it now. I’m glad. Be proud of yourself. And yes, I am an asshole, so by all means, call me that as much as possible.”

Vlad snorts.

“I am very sorry to disappoint you but in the tech crowds, casual is in. I was best dressed when I interviewed. They wore sweat pants, Paulie.”

There’s an audible gasp of horror.

“No,” he says in despair, and then adds in a smaller, cautious voice, “The other reasons, are they good reasons?”

“You know. They’re reasons. Vera’s going into high school. There were some issues at her last school. Not her fault. My landlord...eh, fuck him, fuck my psych, fuck my neighbors, fuck my brother, fuck everyone. I got a guy in San Francisco who says he’ll chop my tits off though, so that guy's not on my fuck list. Fuck all those other assholes though.”

“Am I on your fuck list?” JP asks somewhat wryly.

“You want to be?”

Haha, what the fuck is he doing. What the fuck.

“Well,” Jean-Paul says and he can just picture his shifty little smile, the way he plays with the telephone cord while he talks, his red hair, his dark eyes. “You know I do so hate to be excluded. But that’s grand! Not most of that, no, but the last one, that’s great! Everything’s going so quick for you and that’s grand. That guy you’re seeing, I’m guessing he’s going to help you out after? It’s major surgery, you know, and I’ve heard it’s a bitch while you’re mending.”

Oh. Dennis, fuck him very much. That ended ages ago but he hasn’t talked to Paulie in ages. So much has happened since then that he almost doesn’t feel like the same person.

“Vladimir...well, take care of yourself, okay? If you tell me later you’ve hurt yourself because you pushed yourself too much alone, then I’ll walk over and bite you myself. I’ll do it.”

"I left him. He was an asshole, Paulie. Fucking around with strangers...you know, it’s all so complicated right now, too many things to think about, I’m so tired of thinking, I don’t want to even bother with new men, you know? I thought maybe going out with a woman would be a good idea but no, wrong idea. So...I’ll figure something out. I have time. If I have to do it alone, then I do it alone.”

Why the fuck can’t he stop biting his goddamn lip?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t call you just to talk about depressing shit, haha,” he says. “How’s Lisa? Is she well? Pretty girl. I got the picture you sent. She’s very pretty, Paulie. You look so pretty together.”

“Oh, she’s engaged now. She’s going to have a baby,” he says very, very brightly and Vlad’s throat feels raw and painful.

“That’s great. That’s really great, Paulie.”

“I know, isn’t it?” Jean-Paul says with a bark of laughter. “I’m really happy about it, obviously, because she really wanted to be a mother and I know she’s going to be so good at it and it’s not like I could...her fiancé is so nice! His name is Kevin or Charles or Glenn or, or something, I really don’t remember, he’s in finances. Isn’t that so funny? A fiancé in finance who’s going to have a wife in waitressing. I’m happy for them, I really am. It’s just really good when things work out for the best.”

Oh.

“Shit. Uh. Fuck. I’m sorry, Paulie. I didn’t know. I am very sorry.”

“Oh, it’s fine!” Jean-Paul says breezily. “I’m over it. It’s for the best, anyway, because she wanted to stay in the state and I’m simply so fucking tired of New Jersey. There’s nothing for me here.”

He shouldn’t say this.

“You’d like California,” he says and he is not desperate, he is not pleading. “It’s sunny. It’s about as far away from New Jersey you can get while staying in the country. I mean, unless you go to Alaska or Hawaii but who wants to get on a plane, right?”

“I went to the Castro before in the 70s. It was fun,” Jean-Paul says, hesitant. “It was a different time then. I guess it’s very different now. It has to be.”

“Yeah. Yeah, probably.”

He fucked this up. He shouldn’t say anything.

“Vladimir,” Jean-Paul says and he does not sound nervous but he does sound like he’s edging around something he doesn’t quite want to outright say. “Why are you calling me?”

Why the fuck is he calling? He rubs his temple like that’s going to give him an answer. His lip hurts. His throat burns. His eyes sting. He won’t cry but he wants to.

“I miss you,” he says and it aches being honest. “I miss you. I miss you.”

He doesn’t know how to describe the sound on the other end of the line.

“I know we broke up for good reasons,” he continues, “but think about this: what if we ignore all of them, huh? What if we did that? My brother’s not over here. You could start over. Living together is maybe not a good idea, Vera is not ready for that, but there’s got to be less regulators here than on the east coast, right? Who ever heard of a vampire that lived in California?”

Jean-Paul laughs and Vlad wonders if he’s shaking like he does when he’s excited or scared and not trying to mask it.

“They made an entire movie about California vampire,” he says. “Vlad. That’s a terrible idea. Look, do you even really mean that? Or are you just horny?”

“I love you, asshole, and if I was just horny, I’d get a dildo,” Vlad says and oops, okay, he did not mean to say that, it was always one of those things he could never bear to say, and the first time he says it, it’s in the same sentence as dildo. Way to go.

“I mean, yeah. I mean it. I mean that. What I said. I meant what I just said right now. I don’t...not love you. Uh. Okay, I think I fucked that one up, what I mean to say is that it’s bad idea I want to make. Because I love you. I do.”

“...Oh.”

“Are you okay with that? Because...look, if you want to hang up on me right now, I understand. It’s okay, you know? It’s fine.”

There’s a shuffling on the other end. Maybe Jean-Paul’s sitting down.

“Loving me is a really shitty idea, Vlad. Someone’s just going to get their heart broken sooner or later,” Jean-Paul says, voice low, voice soft. “I don’t not love you too, darling. I mean, you know that, I’m just stating it again. For the record. For posterity’s sake. All of that stuff. So...San Francisco. When are you leaving?”

“Two weeks,” Vlad says. “So, is that yes or is it not yes?”

“Well, it may take a little more time than that to find a place and of course I’ll have to sell the laundromat and I am not living in Silicon Valley, so you can just forget that right there, I’ll just visit, but...fuck it, darling, I’m in.”

If this is a terrible idea (and make no mistake, Vladimir thoroughly thinks this is an awful idea), then why does he feel so much lighter?

“What will you do?”

Jean-Paul makes a contemplative noise.

“Well, there’s always going to be a consumer demand for movie rentals, right?"

#ooc #drabble

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