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kingexpl0sionmurder · 3 years

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Date The Hell Out Of You - Kaminari Denki

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Pairing: Kaminari Denki/F!Reader Rating: 16+ (Fluff) Words: 1,575 Warnings: I have opinions about comic books so don’t come at me. I think it’s a very mild argument anyway so it shouldn’t be a big deal, but if you feel offended pls know it wasn’t my intention to bash on Batman lol. AN: Hellooo here is my contribution to this months bnharem collab! The theme is Co-Workers and I just wanted Denki and a bookstore so you get this short and fluffy little thing. You’re welcome! Please check the masterlist below for everyone else’s works and heed each pieces warnings before you dive in!

Collab Masterlist My Masterlist My Ko-Fi

---

“You cannot sit there and tell me that you think Batman is better than Iron Man. I refuse to believe it.” You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest and glaring daggers at his best friend.

This had become like a routine to Kaminari, ever since he’d started working at the bookstore, which had been almost a year ago.

He took his lunch break at the same time most days, anxiously hoping you had a break at the same time as well. It wasn’t because he thought you were cute (he totally did, honestly), he just enjoyed your company. You had some loud and unique opinions on a lot of things, and he was thoroughly entertained when you went off like this.

“Well they’re both billionaires with no special powers, just a lot of cool gadgets, right?” Sero pointed out, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded behind his head, his bento sitting forgotten on the table.

“You’re right. But Tony Stark has a sense of humor. Batman is such a stick in the mud.” You made a face from your spot across from them, your chopsticks resting over your cup noodles, the utensil keeping the lid closed so they would cook.

“Yeah, but in terms of physical strength, Bruce Wayne has got Tony beat.” Sero sat forward, picking up his chopsticks again. “Tony relies on his tech. In a hand to hand fight, Batman wins every time.”

“Tony is smarter, though.” You sighed. “Look, do I need to direct you to read the Civil War series? It’s only like 7 issues. I can lend them to you.”

“It’s got Spider-Man in it.” Kaminari supplied helpfully. “He’s your favorite.”

Sero chuckled. “Yeah, okay. Maybe it’ll change my mind.”

“Trust me. Batman is lame, he’s got some interesting villains though.” You finally moved to eat your ramen. “What about you, Kaminari? Any opinions?”

Shrugging, he finished off the last bit of rice in his bento. “I don’t know, I’m not huge into comic books. I like Deadpool, though.”

“That’s so on brand.” Sero chuckled. “He’s a ridiculous dumbass, just like you.”

“Hey!”

“Listen, Deadpool is probably one of the funniest antiheroes. He breaks the fourth wall so often, it’s my favorite thing.” You grinned at him. “I think it’s a perfect choice.”

Kaminari could feel the blush creeping up his neck at your words. You thought he was funny. “Thanks, Y/N.”

Clearing his throat, Sero stood up. “My break’s over. Can you check on the YA section when you’re back on, Kami? Some kids were in here earlier and I think they moved all the Twilight books around.” His teasing grin told him that Sero had not missed the way he’d reacted to what you’d said to him.

“Sure thing, boss.” He gave him a salute. “I’ve got like 10 minutes left.”

Sero packed up his bento and shoved it back in the breakroom fridge and left, leaving Kaminari alone with you.

Kaminari opened his mouth, spitting out the first thing that came to his mind. “But here’s the real question.” He pointed at you with his chopsticks. “Team Edward or Team Jacob?”

Kaminari was crouching down, putting the last copies of ‘Breaking Dawn’ back on the shelf when someone walked up to him.

“If she’s Team Edward you’re going to have to call up Aoyama and ask him to hook you up with some body glitter.”

He glanced towards his right, smiling at the scuffed black boots belonging to his other best friend, Shinsou.

Kaminari stood, staring at the cat sticker stuck to the side of the reusable coffee cup that his perpetually tired friend always had with him. His gaze then flicked to his face, his customary grin back on his lips. “You think he can help?”

Rolling his eyes, the purple haired man shifted on his feet. “Of course. He works for some makeup place, I bet they have loads of glittery shit.”

Humming, Denki let his gaze move back to the shelf, making sure everything looked okay. He threw his arm around Shinsou and began walking back to his own section (he was in charge of The Classics, okay?) leaning into the taller man. “I’ll pick you up some black eyeliner while I’m at it.”

“Please do, I’m almost out.” He snarked, before his smirk fell and he sighed. “Look, you need to do something about this crush you have on Y/N.”

“I do not have to do a thing, my friend. I am happily content sitting over here and pining away quietly.” Kaminari threw his arm out dramatically. “Leave me be.”

“Quietly?” Shinsou snorted. “Look, man, I just mean, I’ve been seeing Monoma hanging around her a lot, I just don’t want you to miss your chance.”

Kaminari stopped walking. “Monoma? But he works in the reference section, where they sell those ‘for dummies’ books!”

“Maybe he read ‘Flirting for Dummies’ and now he has a clue. You should look into it yourself.” Shinsou’s raised eyebrow caused Kaminari’s frown to deepen.

“I know how to flirt, Shinsou.” Huffing, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t you need to go back to Science Fiction and get some work done?”

Sipping his coffee, he fixed Kaminari with a look. “Since I am such a wonderful friend, you’re going to swap me on Saturday and work my section, which is conveniently right next to Manga and Comics, where Y/N will be. You are going to make a move or so help me, I am going to beat you over the head with a copy of ‘Wuthering Heights’.”

“Why that one? Why not something longer, like ‘Don Quixote’?”

“Do you want it to hurt?” Shinsou asked, looking entirely done with his shit. “You’re ridiculous. Just do something, otherwise Monoma might get a date before you do.”

Kaminari cursed under his breath. The thought of you laughing and smiling at Monoma’s terrible jokes rubbed him the wrong way. “Fine. I’ll think of something.”

Seemingly satisfied, Shinsou patted him on the shoulder. “I believe in you.”

—

“How come you and Sero always have these fancy looking bentos for lunch?” You asked, sliding into the seat across from him.

Kaminari paused with his rice halfway to his mouth and looked up. “Our roommate. He’s like a mother hen, he always packs us lunch.”

Looking impressed, you raised an eyebrow. “He sounds like a keeper.”

Chuckling, Kaminari sat back in his chair. “Yeah, he’s a handful, but under his extremely aggressive exterior he’s a good guy.” He gestured to your ramen. “Maybe I can get him to make you one. All I have to do is tell him you eat cup noodles for lunch every day and he’ll have a heart attack.”

“I like my ramen, okay? It makes me feel like Naruto.” You raised your arms and grinned. “Believe it!”

Rolling his eyes fondly, he turned back to his lunch, poking at his tamagoyaki. He’d been working in the section beside you all day, listening to you gush over the newest shipment of manga you’d received, shoving books at him and making recommendations. He’d been trying to work up the courage all day to get off his ass and ask you out, and he was failing spectacularly.

“You know, if you want to be like Naruto, you should be eating tonkatsu miso with the little narutomaki in it.”

You blinked at him, looking surprised. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

This was it. His chance. “We should go get the real thing sometime.” He swallowed thickly, his palms sweating. “Like, maybe tomorrow night?” He closed his eyes, waiting for you to respond.

“Kaminari, are you asking me on a date?”

The fondness in your tone had him opening his eyes to see your expression. You were blushing, biting on your bottom lip as you stared at him.

“I mean, yeah. A date. If you want to, I mean.”

He was seconds away from backpedaling, his heart climbing up his throat and on the verge of escaping his body. The anticipation was killing him.

His nervousness and fear of rejection was all for naught. Your face lit up, a genuine smile gracing your lips. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“I would love that.”

A breath he didn’t realize he was holding escaped his lips. “Yeah, okay. Awesome.”

You giggled, leaning your elbow on the table, resting your cheek against your palm. “Did you think I’d say no?”

Feeling a little ridiculous, he blushed and nodded. “I was worried you might. I’m an idiot and you’re...you.”

You scoffed, kicking him under the table lightly. “You’re not an idiot, Kaminari. To be honest, I thought you’d never ask. I guess Shinsou wasn’t lying.”

“About what?” He sat up straight, frowning. “I’m going to kick his ass. What did he say?”

Snorting, you shook your head. “He might have mentioned that you liked me. I wasn’t sure though.”

“Are you kidding? Was I not being obvious enough?”

“You flirt with everyone, I didn’t think I was special.” You teased. “I’m glad he was right, though.” You turned back to your noodles.

“You are though. At least you are to me.” Grinning, he nudged your foot with his. “I’m going to date the hell out of you, Y/N. Just wait and see.”

His heart swooped in his chest when you looked back at him across the table. “I’m looking forward to it.”

#kaminari denki #denki kaminari #kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #denki x reader #bnha #bnharem collab #mha #kaminari fluff #kingexpl0sionmurder writes

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dilly-oh · 3 years

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Trashy Romance Novel

“Naruto, you frigging idiot,” Iruka began hotly, barging into the hospital room, “of all the stupid, brainless things you could have done, this is by far the-”

He stopped.

The person lying in the small bed was definitely not Naruto. It was a grown-ass man with messy gray hair and a faded scar over one eye, the sterile white sheets pulled up over his nose, apparently sound asleep. Iruka stared at him for a long moment, dumbfounded, before it clicked.

Oh shit, he thought. This is the wrong room. I'm in the wrong room. I need to hurry up and leave before-

The stranger's eyes cracked open and he squinted up at Iruka in confusion.

“...Who're you?” he croaked out. Iruka managed a rather articulate gurgle of dismay, frozen in sheer mortification. He considered the distance between him and the IV drip, wondering if he could dose the man back to unconsciousness before he could scream or buzz for a nurse. “Are those for me?” the man asked, sitting up in bed to regard the bouquet of flowers in Iruka's arms. He opened his mouth to disagree, but then the sheet slipped off the man's face, and Iruka suddenly thought giving him the flowers might not be such a bad idea. He definitely deserved a thank you after gifting him with...that. He didn't even protest as the alarmingly handsome stranger reached out and took the bundle of flowers, opening the card on top.

“You're a dumbass. Love, Iruka.” he read aloud, then looked up at Iruka, batting his eyes. “Aww, babe, you shouldn't have.”

“Whoa whoa WHOA!” Iruka finally blurted out, his face burning half from embarrassment at the situation, half from the thinly-veiled flirting. “I'm sorry, sir, there's been a mistake. I'm in the wrong room and-”

“You mean you aren't my doting husband I tragically forgot about due to amnesia and now you have to win back my love by passionately recreating the story of our romantic union?”

“Excuse me, WHAT-”

“Sorry, I've been reading trashy romance novels. They're the only books this hospital has. Can't blame me for trying.” The man shrugged, then reluctantly handed back the bouquet. “Who's the lucky person they're actually for? Must be someone real special if you're calling them a dumbass to their face.”

“My kid brother,” Iruka explained with a sigh. “He's here with a head injury.”

“Ouch.” The man winced in sympathy. “Poor kid.”

“Not really. He head-butted a brick wall.”

“...May I ask why?”

“Because his stupid boyfriend walked into it and he had to, and I quote, 'defend his honor'.” Iruka paused, looking the man up and down. Despite being a bit on the pale side, he looked perfectly fine, pun very much intended. It was almost unfair how well he pulled off the hospital gown (although Iruka would much rather be the one pulling it off, wink wink, nudge nudge). “So...what're you in for?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Was...was it the crappy romance novels? Did they rot your brain?”

“I have an extremely rare, aggressive form of cancer with only two weeks left to live and the only cure is a kiss from my one true love...” The man swooned back onto the pillow and looked expectantly up at Iruka, who rolled his eyes.

“Yeah they definitely did-”

“Alright you got me. Broke my leg.” He pulled the sheet off his lower half, revealing his legs, one of which was wrapped in a cast, propped up on some pillows. Several encouraging words from friends were scrawled on the white surface in marker, one of them a jarring green highlighter. It almost hurt Iruka's eyes to look at it.

“...How did you break it?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

“I heroically threw myself in front of a speeding car in order to save the life of my beloved-”

“Okay how did you really break it?”

“Tripped chasing after my pug at the park,” the man admitted with a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

“...Is the dog okay?” Iruka asked after a long pause.

The stranger burst out laughing. It was a nice laugh, warm and contagious enough to elicit a chuckle out of Iruka, who was growing more and more intrigued. He couldn't deny the spark of attraction he felt for the other man, spontaneous as it was, and it seemed to be reciprocated. He didn't even know his name, but something about the man made Iruka want to know more about him. Maybe this was like some trashy romance novel, where the two would-be lovers met under unusual circumstances and fell instantly in-

“Hey, Kakashi,” a man with short brown hair said, suddenly walking into the room, “I brought the next three volumes of your shitty porn series from the hospital library and a couple pairs of clean underwear, so you can stop fucking texting me the specific style and brand you want from home, you're so damn picky-” He stopped dead as he caught sight of Iruka, pausing for a beat, then glanced at the man in the bed, his eyes darting nervously between the two. “Umm...am I...interrupting something?”

A cold pit of ice yawned open in Iruka's stomach.

Oh my GOD. Here he was, borderline flirting with some stranger in a random hospital room, when obviously the man already had a boyfriend and Iruka was just making a complete ass of himself. The flirting had probably been misinterpretation on his part anyway, and if not, the guy was a total dick. Either way, enough was enough. His face aflame with rage and shame, Iruka spun towards the door.

“I need to go.”

“Hey, wait!” Kakashi or whatever his name was called after him.

Iruka was already out the door, ignoring the man's cries. Screw him, and screw Naruto, too. He was the cause of this whole mess. Iruka would just text him later. He was probably making out with Sasuke anyway and wouldn't even notice his brother hadn't popped in to visit. Iruka needed out of this hospital NOW. He turned towards the stairs, immediately got lost, and spent the next five minutes growing increasingly flustered as he stormed through the winding hallways, desperately searching for the exit. Why the fuck was the hospital so damn BIG-

“Hey! Iruka! Hold up!”

Iruka spun around to see Kakashi speeding towards him in a wheelchair, his boyfriend dutifully pushing him down the hallway at a dead run, IV dangling after him on its cord like a faithful dog. The wheelchair stopped with an audible squeal in front of him.

“What- where did- did you steal that?!” Iruka hissed in outrage.

“Of course not, don't be silly,” Kakashi protested, sounding offended. “The guy it belongs to was asleep in his bed. I'm just borrowing it. I'll return it later. Anyway, Iruka-”

“Were you flirting with me in there?” Iruka demanded, cutting him off. “Be honest.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Kakashi said without an ounce of remorse. “So can I have your number or what?” Iruka bristled.

“You're a piece of shit! I can't believe you, hitting on me like this right in front of your boyfriend! You have some nerve-”

“Wait...boyfriend?” Kakashi cocked his head in confusion. “You mean Yams?”

“The fuck do YAMS have to do with anything-”

“Hi, that's me,” the short-haired man said, raising a hand. “Yamato, actually. 'Yams' to my friends. Which is what we are. Just...friends.” Iruka scowled at him suspiciously.

“Friends? Don't fuck with me. You brought him underwear-”

“Really close friends,” Yamato reiterated. “Also, roommates. It's awful. I can't get away from him.” Iruka studied him for a moment, but couldn't spot any hint of deception. The man's almond-shaped eyes were surprisingly honest.

“So you two...aren't dating?” he asked hesitantly. Yamato gave him a horrified look.

“Dear God, NO. Kakashi is the WORST. He's lazy as hell, procrastinates til the last minute, is perpetually late to everything-”

“You are a shit wingman-” Kakashi began.

“He needs to know what he's getting into,” Yamato snapped at him, then turned back to Iruka. “Seriously, though. You should run while you still can. There's hope for you.”

“Don't listen to him,” Kakashi cut in. “I'm a fucking catch. Which is exactly why you should let your flaxen hair down, rip your shirt open to reveal your heaving bosom, and throw yourself into my arms-”

“Will you cut that out?!” Iruka burst out impatiently. “Life is not a trashy romance novel.”

“You sure about that?” Kakashi said, quirking an eyebrow. “Because I met you in a hospital through total coincidence. After really hitting it off, we had a misunderstanding brought on by miscommunication. Then I chased after you in a fucking wheelchair to declare my undying attraction to you. If that isn't a plot to a trashy romance novel, I don't know what the fuck is. At least it's not raining right now.”

“I dunno, it might be drizzling,” Yamato said, glancing at a window.

Iruka paused, considering.

“I guess it...would make a pretty good book,” he admitted quietly. “The only thing is...I'm not sure what happens next.”

“That part's for us to write,” Kakashi said, his tone eager. “Only we can complete the story.”

“Aaaaand I'm going to puke,” Yamato stated.

“Sorry, we crossed the line from 'trashy' into 'sappy'.” Kakashi shook his head. “Anyway. Iruka. Please, I'm begging you. Let me sweep you off your feet. Just...give me a chance.”

“I'll do you one better,” Iruka said after a pause. “I'll give you my number.” Stealing a marker from the nearby nurse's station, he bent and wrote his cell number on Kakashi's cast, then straightened and held out the bouquet. “Here, you can have these. The message works for you too, I guess.”

Kakashi accepted the flowers with a laugh, taking an appreciative sniff.

“And now, I shall ride dramatically off into the sunset,” he said with complete seriousness. “Come, my valiant steed. Awaaaay!”

“I will push you down the stairs,” Yamato grumbled as he spun the wheelchair around and started back down the hallway. Iruka watched them go with a fond smile on his face, giddy with anticipation.

He was eager to read the next few chapters in his life.

Including the steamy bits.

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twelve Prompt: Hospitals)

#kakairu #KakaIru Month 2021 #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #naruto #hospital au #crappy romance novels #all the cliches

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jeonglixie · 4 years

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[11:49pm] You should've been more careful.

Your first mistake was when you carelessly let your roommate borrow your laptop without checking it first.

No need to talk about Jisung's bewildered expression when he tried to search something for his assignment and tabs with numerous articles about squirting were already open. He aggressively started chocking on his americano to the point you bursted in his room asking if he was ok. He quickly assured you he was just fine as he quickly closed the tabs,trying to hide his growing bulge. Dirty thoughts about you started flooding his mind and he mentally slapped himself.God,he needed a cold shower.

It's not like it was the first time he thought about you like this. But he didn't really want to make a move as you never seemed interested in him. Chan once told him he saw you with Hyunjin,the dance major he couldn't stand,so he figured you'd have a crush on him. Damn this bastard with the plump ass lips!

From the other side,you had a huge crush on him but you were too shy to flirt with him or show interest. That made you Hyunjin's victim as he teased you about it nonstop.

"Hey princess you seem tired. Did that dumbass walk around half naked again and the thought of his pecks kept you up all night?"

"Hyunjin I swear to God if you don't shut your fucking mouth."

He indeed walked around topless but you weren't going to tell Hyunjin that. The irritating wetness on your panties was enough.

Your second mistake,two days later,was that you didn't even bother locking the door of your room.

Jisung told you he's going to work on a new track with Chan and Changbin so you figured he'll be out for a while.The moment he closed the door you were jumping from the couch,as you couldn't hold your excitement,being finally alone.

Today you'd make yourself squirt. You didn't really know why this idea stuck in your head but curious as you were,you really wanted to live this oh so mind blowing experience. You surely couldn't jump on Jisung for help and you didn't want to bother finding an one night stand so you figured you'd do this yourself. You did your research and all you needed was to get Jisung out of the house for some hours. Now it was your chance!

You ran in your bedroom and gently placed a towel on your bed. You really weren't in the mood of cleaning the mess you'll probably make.

You quickly slipped out of your shorts and grabbed your bullet vibrator. You put it in a low setting and pressed it on your clothed clit as you laid back on your pillows. You sighed and closed your eyes. Pictures of the squirrel boy flashed on your mind. Oh to have Han Jisung between your legs, eating you out till you lose your mind….

You huffed in frustration as your tries weren't really giving you the results you wanted.

At this point you had two fingers in your cunt, desperately searching how you were going to stimulate that point and make you reach that damn euphoria. You lost the track of time as you kept edging yourself, letting out some annoyed grunts here and there.

Jisung sighed as he unlocked the door to your apartment. The track production went unexpectedly great,seems like the boys had inspiration today and everything was done quickly. Now he could relax a little. Maybe grab some snacks and watch a movie? He figured he could ask you to join him and watch a thriller or something. That would be fun.

He dropped his backpack on his bed and went towards your room.

"Damn it!" He heard your annoyed whine and raised an eyebrow.

What were you trying to do again?

He entered your room with a playful smirk,ready to tease you but his lips dropped immediately as he was not really ready for that sight.

You were lying on your bed half naked,legs wide open with your fingers stuffing your cunt. Sweat glistening on your skin as your eyes were tightly shut. You didn't even notice Jisung so you kept going.

When you finally opened your eyes and you met Jisung's almost terrified expression,it took you some seconds to realize what's happening.

"J-Jisung!W-what the hell are you doing? Get out!" you yelped as you rushed to cover yourself with your blanket.

The boy snapped out of the trance he was into and blood rushed at his cheeks.

"F-fuck,I'm sorry,I didn't meant to,shit." he mumbled as his head went back and forth at you and the door.

Then realization hit him and he stopped.

"Were you trying to squirt?"

You froze.

"H-how'd you-"

"You should really delete your searching history before you give your laptop like that."

No. This couldn't be happening. Not only your crush saw your shameless search history but he caught you half naked fucking yourself. Who knows how long he'd been there.

You planted your face in your palms.

"Jisung please get out,this is so embarrassing,oh my god."

"So uh, don't you need help with that?"

Your head snapped and you met Jisung with a cocky smirk right in front of you. You gasped at how close he was and you backed up,hitting the wall.

"W-why would I need help, I'm-"

"You sounded pretty frustrated to me baby. I think you could use some help right now."

Your jaw dropped. Han Jisung,your roommate,no,your crush just called you baby with hot raspy voice and implied he'd help you make your wildest dreams come true.

This ain't happening,you're hallucinating, that's it.

His hand on your thigh brought you back to reality and he looked at you,waiting for any sign of discomfort.You took a shaky breath and slowly removed the blanket off your legs. Jisung smiled.

"Spread your legs for me baby,let me see you."

You laid back and spread your legs. You could swear his eyes darkened when he saw your glistening cunt.He placed his fingers on your swollen clit.

"Fuck you're so hot."

He licked his lips and lost no time as he went down and licked a long strip of your wetness. You threw your head back and let out a whimper.

You felt dizzy as Jisung didn't really give you time to comprehend what was happening. He slipped one finger in your pussy and sucked your clit like a starved man. When he inserted a second one and started aggressively rubbing that spot in you,you were sure he had you moaning and screaming his name.

"S-Sungie ah,there!Fuck!"

Jisung felt his dick twitch in his pants at the nickname. He rubbed himself on the mattress as he kept eating you out,small groans leaving his mouth. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach and grabbed his hair.

"I-I'm close Ji,please don't stop!"

You came with a long moan of his name,your orgasm had you seeing stars. You never felt so good. You kept your eyes closed for a while, trying to catch your breath. Jisung eventually stopped as you slightly whined from overstimulation.

When you finally opened your eyes, you met Jisung's loving ones. Your juices ran down his chin and he cracked you a smile.

"Told you I'd help."

You couldn't help but giggle.

"That was... amazing." You said with a sigh.

Jisung's chest swelled with pride and he started cleaning you with your towel.

"Hey,I...I know this ain't so romantic and you literally just squirted on my face but...I like you" he mumbled,not daring to look you in the eyes.

You gasped.

"I-I like you too!"

Now it was Jisung's turn to look at you shocked.

"I thought you liked Hyunjin?"

You rolled your eyes.

"This drama queen may be attractive as fuck,but he's only a friend." you chuckled.

Jisung couldn't stop himself from grinning as he slowly leaned in and pressed his lips on yours.

You kissed back and climbed on his lap. You broke the kiss as he groaned when you pressed your bare sex on his clothed bulge.

"You seem like you could use some help too."

"You think so?"

"Mhm."

"Then you're in for a long night baby."

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #stray kids scenarios #stray kids angst #stray kids smut #stray kids jisung #han jisung #han jisung scenarios #han jisung smut #stray kids timestamps #skz smut #skz scenarios #skz oneshots #skz imagines #skz jisung #jisung x reader

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joheun-saram · 4 years

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right here (jhs)

Summary- “That’s the thing about dating your best friend, when you break up you not only lose your partner, you lose the person who would console you too.”

word count- 4.1k

pairing- college!hoseok x reader

rating- pg15

genre- angst, childhood lovers, college au

warnings- drinking, marijuana use mention, mentions of sex but no explicit descriptions

a.n- i’ve been obsessed with keshi’s song right here and so this fic was born. i love hobi and i hurt writing this. s/o to @papillonsgf for reading it and easing my worries 🥺

Feedback much appreciated! 💕 An ask goes a long way... to my heart.

gif is not mine! :)

March 8th, 2:04 am

Y/N: I know it's random, how you've been?

March 11th, 11:26 pm

Y/N: Do you remember 'bout this band you said you listened to?

March 16th, 1:17 am

Y/N: I miss you, Hobi :(

March 16th, 3:43 am

Y/N: Hope life is treating you better...

Hoseok watched across the room as you sat in Taehyung’s lap. Your hand was on his chest as you laughed at a joke while his hand laid on your bare thigh, caressing right where your skirt ended. Hoseok’s drink tasted bitter as he scrolled through the messages you had sent him last month.

He didn’t know why he was so held up on you still. It had been over three months since you broke up but every time you messaged him it was like his heart somersaulted in his chest. He had taken Yoongi’s advice to ignore your messages, in fact, Yoongi had suggested blocking you altogether so Hoseok could have some peace and move on but every time he tried to block you something stopped him. He could never bring himself to do it. It was like every atom in his body revolted against it.

You had dated for two years and even before that, you had been best friends for six years. Now you were a shadow in his life, always there in the background but he couldn’t feel you anymore. Ever present, but he could never catch you. He missed you. He always missed you but it seemed that you were happier now with your new guy. As he watched you cuddling cosily with Taehyung, he was sure that you weren’t even aware that he was at this party.

“I love you, Y/N. Please. I’m only saying this because I love you.” Hoseok maintained his tone despite how angry he felt at your actions. You had just casually told him you were flunking another class as you dressed up to go to another party. He couldn’t believe your cavalier attitude. You had been doing that a lot lately - going out with your new friends and getting wasted beyond your limit. This was how it always went. You’d go out and then come home late, stumbling into bed giggling, your breath reeking of liquor as you cuddled into him. He’d let it pass for months but he could see you disappear. He had tried to convince you to turn it down a notch time and time again but it always ended in the same ugly fight.

“You don’t control the people you love!” You snapped at him from where you stood in your shared bedroom, jacket falling off of one shoulder.

“I’m not trying to control you… Baby, please! I just want you to do better.” He went over to you, fixing your jacket as he cupped your face. He wanted you to understand how much it hurt him to see you this way. You shrugged him off, moving backward.

“Oh just because my grades suck, I’m not doing good?” Malice painted your tone as you raised your voice.

“You know that’s not what I mean, but this is not you. Showing up drunk to class? Staying all night at frat parties? That’s not you!” He matched your volume. He needed you to see that he was not the enemy. He wanted to shake some sense into you.

“Well, maybe you don’t know me, Hoseok.” Your eyes narrowed at him and he felt his heart sink. How could you say that to him? The ice in your tone running through his veins.

“I’ve known you since we were twelve!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration.

“That doesn’t give you the right to tell me how to live!” You poked him in the chest as your anger flared further.

“Please baby. Just talk to me. What’s wrong?” He softened his tone as he clasped your hand poking him in both of his. He knew you. Despite your words, he knew you. There was no way you were suddenly a party animal. There had to be something wrong.

“I just want to enjoy university, is that too much to ask?” You pulled your hand away from his harshly. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong but your anger fed his.

“And blacking out each night is enjoying it?”

“I can’t do this. I can’t have the same fight every night!”

“Then stop. Stop fucking throwing your life away!” He couldn’t help how his voice broke at the end of the sentence. He could never control his emotions, especially when it came to you, and anger fuelled the tears that threatened to escape his eyes.

“Fuck you Hoseok. Fuck you! I’m done!” You pushed past him as you made your way towards the front door.

“What do you mean you’re done? Where are you going?” He grabbed your wrist as you neared the door, tears freely flowing at seeing your face distorted in anger. “Stop. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. I never want to see you again.” Your voice was cold, almost formal. No hint of emotion whereas Hoseok was a bawling mess. He always hated how in control of your emotions you were compared to him.

“Y/N… You don’t mean that. I love you.” He pulled you into a hug and whispered into your hair, holding on for dear life. His heart was racing. He couldn’t lose you. He didn’t know who he was without you. How could you look him in the eye and tell him you never wanted to see him again? Did eight years mean nothing to you?

“I love you too but I can’t do this anymore. You’re suffocating me.” You pushed him off and he could see the tears in your eyes, betraying your carefully put together facade.

“Y/N… please don’t do this.” He pleaded, holding your hand before you harshly shrug him off again.

“Bye Hoseok. I hope you find someone you don’t have to lecture.” You opened the door as you gave him one last withering look before heading out.

“Wait! You can’t just end us like this!”

“I can and I have. I’ll move out tomorrow.” And with that you were gone, disappearing into the night, while Hoseok crumpled to the ground, sobbing, unsure how your relationship had gotten to this point.

Hoseok walked into the kitchen. He needed something stronger than beer. He spotted a bottle of tequila on the counter, thanking his stars that the frat hosting this party was one that provided alcohol. As he poured himself a generous shot, Namjoon appeared slinging his arm around his shoulders, clearly tipsy.

“Hobi! Are you doing shots without me?” He gasped mockingly as he poured himself one too. Namjoon and Hoseok didn’t used to be particularly close but after his breakup with you, both men had bonded over their broken hearts. Namjoon’s girlfriend had cheated on him a few months before and it became a tradition for the two of them to drink in his apartment together. In fact, the only reason Hoseok was here today was that Yoongi had insisted that the two of them take their drinking outside of his and Namjoon’s shared apartment and try to find someone else to get over their heartbreak. He was sure it was only because Yoongi was annoyed by how loud they both got and he needed some peace. He had been roommates with Yoongi in first-year and he felt bad to impose on his friend almost every weekend so he agreed to let Namjoon drag him to this party. Little did he know that you would be here tonight too.

“Never Joon! I wouldn’t betray the heartbreak boys!” Hoseok tried to muster as much excitement as he could, his smile half-hearted and not reaching his eyes. Fortunately, Namjoon didn’t notice as the two took three shots back to back. The sting in Hoseok’s throat felt welcomed, like antiseptic on a bad wound.

“So you know how the best way to get over someone is getting under someone else?” Namjoon questioned, his eyes glazed over, as he looked over Hoseok’s shoulder. Hoseok responded in a hum, barely paying attention as his thoughts clouded over and replayed the way Taehyung’s hands caressed your body. He wished he never saw you tonight. Going from seeing you every day to not seeing you for three months had been terrible, but not as terrible as seeing you in his arms. Before he could delve further into his pain, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned to see a pair of women, one already going into Namjoon’s arms as she pressed her lips to his, and the other introducing herself to him. He barely heard her name and after still not getting it for a second time, he decided to not bother.

He didn’t want to make new friends, didn’t want to get under someone else as Namjoon had so eloquently put it. He just wanted you. She was persistent though, flirting aggressively, taking his disinterest as a cue to work harder. As the shots caught up to him, he just let her. Let her push him against the wall of the kitchen, let her kiss his lips, his neck. Let her run her hands under his shirt. He kissed her back after that but as he closed his eyes, he saw your face. He kissed her harder hoping the image went away but it grew stronger, the memories of you whimpering under him, memories of you laughing as you came. God, you always giggled as you came and he was so weak. The montage of your once happy relationship haunted him and he felt a strong pang of guilt. This girl deserved better than to be imagined as someone else. He needed to get out of here.

Mumbling an apology, he pushed her off himself and grabbed a beer before going to the backyard. It was quieter there, the majority of the partygoers too stoned to be chaotic, the music inside pouring out in a blur of bass and treble. He found a spot on the grass next to a tree as he sat down to compose himself. That girl, whatever her name was, was the first person he had kissed after you, and suddenly he felt an onslaught of emotions. A lump formed in his throat as he remembered your first kiss, after a similar party, when he promised himself that you would be the last person he kissed.

“Shhhhh! We’re gonna wake up Yoongi!” Hoseok giggled as he stumbled into his dorm room and you followed closely behind tripping on the shoes strewn by the door and falling onto him. He wished he was as suave as the guys on tv and caught you but instead he stumbled with you crashing on the floor in a puddle of hushed laughter, your head on his thigh.

“Let’s go to your room before grandpa yells at us.” You snickered as you got on your feet, pulling Hoseok up with you. The two of you walked slowly to his room, changing into sweats and tshirts, before collapsing on the twin bed, his arm under your head. This was a normal occurrence for the two of you. Every time you both went out, you slept over at one of your dorm rooms. In highschool, you would sneak into each other’s bedrooms but the freedom of university made it easier. Lying next to you, Hoseok felt comfortable. Just your presence put him at ease and soon your conversation was dying as his eyes got heavier.

“Hobi?” you whispered next to him making him turn around to face you. You always did this when you were drunk - bargained for cuddles - and as sleepy as he was, Hoseok didn’t feel like protesting as usual, so he put his arm around your waist and pulled you close, his one leg hitched around your hip.

“Goodnight.” He whispered patting the back of your head as he drifted off. What he didn’t expect was for your lips to touch his. It was a soft, lingering peck and it was like he was electrocuted, his eyes flying open. For a moment he thought it was some weirdly vivid dream until he heard you apologize. He had never thought of kissing you before, you were his best friend and he always thought of you as platonic. His platonic soulmate. But as soon as you had kissed him it was like a dam broke inside him, his heart beating fast, his lips tingling, and all he wanted was to do it again.

It was like he was on autopilot, his hand on the back of your neck as his lips silenced your apologies. This kiss wasn’t soft. It was eager, hungry, and Hoseok felt alive. It was like a switch went on in him, the feelings he had apparently repressed for years rushing to the surface at the same time settling him into a haze of endorphins. He couldn’t help grinning against you as your mouth parted for his tongue and he could finally taste you - the cheap wine coolers you drank, the one cigarette you bummed outside the party, and a sweetness that he could only describe as you. He needed you closer, inexplicably closer, as his grip around your waist got tighter, his leg pulling you in further till his knee was almost on the mattress, trying his hardest not to grind against you.

You moaned against his mouth and he knew he would never forget that sound. How did he go so long without realizing how much he needed you? You were always the smarter one between the two of you - of course you knew before him that he would fall for you.

He spent the night making out with you and he knew this was it. This was what they wrote songs about, started wars about. This was love. He felt it bloom within his chest, till the branches set each nerve ending alive. He knew everything about you and you knew everything about him and he never wanted to let anyone else in the way he let you in. He didn’t know if you loved him too yet, but he was ready to convince you that he’d never want to kiss someone like he was kissing you right now.

“This seat taken?”

Hoseok felt his heart clench at hearing your voice. He didn’t want to see you in this state. He was far too vulnerable and drunk right now to control himself when it came to you. He didn’t know how he’d react. Without waiting for his response you made yourself comfortable next to him on the grass, your back against the tree as your shoulder lightly grazed his. He felt like his shoulder was on fire, and he moved slightly away from you.

“How’ve you been Hobi?” Your voice was light, airy, as if you had never stomped on his heart. As if you had never left him sobbing on your porch just a few months ago without so much as a glance in his direction. He wanted to scream at you, tell you how you broke him, ruined him for everyone else, but before he could get a word out, you reached your hand and placed it on his. The innocent touch was too intimate, and he felt a tear roll down his cheek. How did the two of you get here, where your hand on his made him want to hug you and sob on your shoulder. That’s the thing about dating your best friend, when you break up you not only lose your partner, you lose the person who would console you too. All he could do in response to your question was just shrug. He felt pathetic. Why were you torturing him?

“I’m sorry for pushing you away,” you whispered as you squeezed his hand and he finally had the courage to look at you. You looked beautiful - the moonlight reflecting off your skin made you glow. His eyes traced your features from the curve of your brows, to how your eyes gazed at him softened, to the slope of your nose, to finally your lips, parted and shiny from your lip gloss. Before he could stop himself, he was leaning forward, crashing his lips on yours, kissing you quick and short, just enough to get rid of the taste of the girl before, just so he could hold on to you being the last person he kissed for a little bit longer.

It’s when he saw the look of shock on your face that he realized what he had done. Muttering a quick apology, he stood up, ignoring your calls of his name as he walked through the house. He had to leave. He was an idiot. He was an idiot who was never going to get over you. Was this his life now? Watching you from afar, unable to control himself in your presence.

He decided to walk the thirty minutes to your - well now, just his - apartment. He was slower than usual, hoping that the fresh air would clear his mind, but everywhere he looked he was reminded of you. He passed by the ice cream shop where you had your first date and all he could think about was the way you coyly licked the melted ice cream off his fingers and kissed him telling him mint chocolate only tasted good off his tongue. He passed the twenty-four hour tattoo shop where he held your hand as you got your first tattoo at 3 am because you were bored and always wanted one, a little star on your hip. He passed the park where he had found you sulking after your first fight and he picked a wildflower for you, one that he hopes you still have pressed in your favourite book. He could never escape you. When he arrived at his door, he saw you standing there and thought he had finally lost all semblance of reality. That is, until you spoke.

“Baby, are you okay?” The pet name made his heart ache as he looked at you in alarm, realizing that you were actually there. He couldn’t do this. He stumbled back, almost tripping off the porch.

“Y/N… please. I can’t do this.” He pleaded, but he was helpless as you held his hand and guided him into the house, easily navigating him to his bed. You took off his shoes as he laid there, not having enough strength or courage to ask you to leave. He missed the way you would take care of him and he let you even if it's the last time. You didn’t say much as you tucked him under the covers, slowly caressing his hair and arms as he liked so he could fall asleep. This was cruel and he told you as much as silent tears escaped him, your quiet apologies echoing in his head as he fell asleep.

He woke up with a start, blinking at the sunlight that fills his room, groaning as his head ached from the hangover. He thought about the vivid dream he had of you putting him to bed and he couldn’t help but grimace at how pathetic he had become.

Startled was an understatement as he noticed you sitting in the desk chair next to his bed. Your were legs propped on the corner of the bed as you snoozed uncomfortably, your head bent at an odd angle. He noticed the bin next to his bed, right where his head would have been, and the bottle of water with painkillers on the nightstand. It reminded him of the times he had done the same for you and his head replayed the memory of when you walked out on him. Why were you back? Did you really miss him too?

He saw you stir and before he could lie back and pretend to be asleep, you were up, your eyes staring into his. You both sat there in silence just looking at each other. It had been so long that he had forgotten how your eyes could drown him, pull him in inexplicably deep.

You reached for him and before his brain could process it, he was reaching back, muscle memory leaving your fingers intertwined. That was when your facade broke for the first time in months and Hoseok could see a blackened tear that slowly trickled down your face. His eyes followed its path down your cheek as it lingered on your jaw before dripping on to your chest, darkening a spot on the red dress you wore. A few more followed its journey, before you were sobbing, loud cries that seemed to wreck your soul, and Hoseok was weak, pulling you into his chest and letting you use him as a makeshift kleenex. He didn’t know how long you both sat there, you crying on his chest, him holding you tightly, wishing he could stop your pain despite whatever you may have inflicted on him.

By the time you calmed down, he still couldn’t let you go, walking with your hand in his to your once shared kitchen, setting the kettle on. He still stocked your favourite blueberry tea even though he hated the taste. You spoke first after what seemed like hours.

“I dropped out.”

This was not what he had expected. Despite your numerous fights about schoolwork, he still liked to believe he knew you. It was your dream to study art, travel the world to visit galleries, with visions of curating your favourite exhibits. He still remembered all the times you would drag him to the local gallery, waxing poetic about inspirations behind modern art pieces. He never cared much about visual art but your passion had him holding onto every word. He could still recite everything about the history of the impressionist movement and its influences on your favourite artists. He knew that even if you were failing, you wouldn’t just give up on your passions.

“Our family business went bankrupt and so I can’t afford it. It was either this or our house.” Your voice was calm now, even monotonous, as if you had just expelled all the emotions earlier. He let you talk. Let you tell him about how your father had insisted they sell your family home and move to a studio so he could still supplement your tuition. But you could never do that to your family, have them sacrifice their home for something as silly as your childish dreams. Life had brought you to your knees, and you mourned your loss through parties and friends who encouraged your vices.

Hoseok had a hard time processing - he thought he knew everything about you, but you were right that night, maybe he didn’t know you as well as he hoped. He racked his brain for any sign of the misery you spoke of, other than the late nights and he came up empty. To think, he’d been wasting time in the dance studio, with his hobbies, when he could have been helping you.

He felt torn, he felt sad, he felt guilty, but all he could say was “Why didn’t you tell me?” Why had you hidden this from him when he could have lightened your load. He could’ve helped, taken out a loan from his parents, worked a part-time job to help you cover your bills. He was in love with you, didn’t you know that he would’ve done anything to help you? Would still do anything to help you.

“For once, Hoseok, I didn’t want to depend on you. I wanted to do it by myself, for myself.” Your voice was small, almost timid, but your eyes held your convictions. They softened as he squeezed your hand, and you apologized once more, almost pleading him to understand why you had to spend the last months alone, why you couldn’t be honest, but you didn’t need to say much he already understood. He knew you.

He stood from where he was sitting on his stool and closed the distance between you, pulling you into his arms haphazardly, one around your head and other around your shoulders. He squeezed you tight as if he could meld your bodies together, take away the hardships you faced through osmosis. He didn’t know what you expected of him, but all he could do was hold you close, and when you looked up at him, cupping his cheek, he kissed you. He took his time, slowly reacquainting himself to the lips he craved. He didn’t know if the tears he was tasting were yours or his but all he knew was that you were here.

And as you whispered an “I love you” on his lips, he knew that no matter how broken you had left him, for you he’d always be right here.

I hope you liked this angsty piece, for more fics of mine check out my masterlist

#jhope imagines #jhope angst #jhope x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #thebtswritersclub #hoseok angst #bts angst #bts au #hoseok fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #hoseok #jhope

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wonderlustlucas · 4 years

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the visit - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt “And do what? Watch another horror so you can cry?” ⇢ pairing hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 1.8k ⇢ genre fluff & little smut but not really ⇢ warnings swearing, make out sesh & a little grinding action ⇢ summary “hwang hyunjin x female reader. Genre is up to you, please (fluff/smut) ~ Theme - Hyunjin and his s/o are watching a horror movie. And s/o laughs a lot, being rational and isn't scared at all. While Hyunjin is ehh a scared drama queen? haha”—request ; friends to lovers!au

You’re beginning to think inviting Hyunjin to your dorm to watch The Visit with you wasn’t the best idea.

It’s not like you had many other choices. With your roommate having gone home for the weekend and Hyunjin’s dorm only a few doors down, it was your best option. And on the typical occasion, you wouldn’t be complaining; usually, you are more than happy to spend time with one of your newer friends who not only makes you smile so hard it hurts, but also happens to be ridiculously handsome. You know. As a plus.

You should have guessed that Hyunjin isn’t a horror kind of person. Seriously— he’s a pretty rose-colored glasses, happy-go-lucky guy. So why he agreed to watch one such movie with you in the first place is beyond your level of judging expertise.

You’re trying to not get ahead of yourself.

Hyunjin lets out an audible gasp when it is revealed who the ‘grandparents’ truly are. You can’t help but pause the movie, trying to stifle a laugh. “Are you for real?” You ask, turning to look at him. “You didn’t realize who they were?” Somewhere in the back of your head, you take note of how unfairly cute he looks right now, lying on his stomach beside you with his face smooshed into one of your pillows.

“Um, no?” He scoffs like it’s the most reasonable thing ever, sending you an unamused glare.

“You’re dense.”

You start to feel bad as the movie draws closer to its end. To you, the movie is stupid; totally predictable and you can’t stop laughing. Hyunjin, on the other hand, is not having as fun of a time. Clearly frightened—or, maybe just overwhelmed—by the sudden and rather aggressive turn of events, he finds it much more disturbing and you begin to find yourself focusing more on the way he keeps flinching rather than the movie.

“Okay,” you finally quip, slapping your laptop closed, “I think that’s enough.”

“What?” Hyunjin hollers, leaning up on his elbows. “What are you doing?”

“You’re clearly freaked out, Hyunjin. You should have just told me you didn’t like horror movies and stayed in your dorm,” grumbling, you miss the hurt that flashes across his face when you reach back to retrieve your phone.

“Then I wouldn’t get to see you,” he admits, keeping his gaze glued on you as you come back down next to him. You momentarily forget how to breathe, heat making its way up your neck to settle on your cheeks. He can’t help but smile to himself at the reaction.

“Well,” you cough, “we could have watched something else.”

“No matter how disturbing it is,” Hyunjin hums, reopening your laptop, “I have to see how it ends.”

Reluctant, you look to him with a frown and momentarily wonder if he’s trying to prove something. You certainly hope not. Before you can even make sure he really wants to continue, Hyunjin offers the softest of smiles for reassurance and you can’t help but send one back. He simply has that effect. With one last sigh, you quickly type in your password and reposition yourself; this time, a little closer to him. “Fine,” you sigh, continuing the movie, “but if you cry or something, I’m going to laugh.”

He doesn’t cry. In fact, he’s stiff as a board, face devoid of emotion as he keeps his eyes glued to the screen. It isn’t until you shift to rest your head on his arm does the smallest of smiles appear on his lips. And before you know it, the movie is ending and you realize you have spent the last twenty minutes or so transfixed on Hyunjin rather than the film’s conclusion. Oh well.

“That was interesting,” you offer. You’re not sure what to think at the moment. A part of you likes to believe one too many lines were crossed this evening for friends who only met at the beginning of this semester, but the more reasonable side is convinced Hyunjin would never see you as anything more than that. Friends.

“I think you’re a liar,” Hyunjin quips unexpectantly, brows furrowed when you whip back to face him. “I think you’re scared, but you just play it off and laugh ‘cause you don’t want to blow the little façade you got going.”

You scoff, leaning back on an elbow to regard him. “I’ve seen some scary movies, Hyunjin, but this definitely wasn’t one of them. Get the hell out of here.”

“But I wanted to stay,” he whines with a pout of his lips. Fuck, if you were knee-deep in shit before, you might as well be drowning now. “And do what? Watch another horror so you can cry?” You challenge like always, blowing off what could be flirting because it just seems too outrageous to you. “No,” Hyunjin frowns, suddenly serious and it turns your blood to ice.

“What, then?” You laugh airily, looking away for the sake of your own sanity and watching the movie’s credits intently. The silence is deafening, dragging on for so long you begin to fear that he can hear how heavily your heart is beating. Finally, you muster up the courage to look back at Hyunjin who, to your surprise, seems to have been regarding you quietly the entire time. “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” Hyunjin asks in a rush.

“What?” You blurt, nearly choking on the air you heave and staring back at him with wide eyes. “Why would you want to do that?”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, deserting his pillow in favor of sitting up to lean against the wall. “Do you want the confession version or the dirty version?” He asks like it means nothing at all, the corners of his eyes scrunched in amusement. You nearly choke—again.

“Dirty?” You repeat, bewildered. At this point, you must have died and gone to heaven to hear Hwang Hyunjin even utter such words. You scramble to sit up, keeping a safe distance from the boy talking absolute buffoonery at you.

“My friends were talking about you,” he starts, and instantly the alarms begin ringing in your brain. Hyunjin is one thing, but his friends? They’re an entirely new level of terrifying, and the fact that he’s using plural friends has your heart racing. “No, no, no. I actually don’t wanna know,” you interrupt, waving your hands for him to stop and opting to look at the now dark screen of your laptop.

Hyunjin ignores you. “They’ve been talking about your ass for weeks now after you wore this one pair of jeans, and it’s driving me absolutely nuts because, yeah, your ass is great, but it also made me realize how possessive I feel about you. I don’t think I can handle another day listening to them wonder ‘what that mouth do,’ because now I can’t help but wonder, and it’s fucking me up because I really like you and I love spending time with you but then you’ll do some nonchalant shit like… just the way you leaned back. It makes my head spin. And I hate knowing anyone else is thinking of you the way I do. But like, if you don’t feel the same way and don’t want to kiss me, I get it. We’re probably just a bunch of horny teenage boys to you, and I don’t know why you would want me of all—”

“Jesus Christ, shut up,” you groan, hastily waddling on your knees until you’re close enough to swing a leg over his lap and cup his face in your hands. For a moment, you hesitate—pausing to look him in the eyes and wondering whether you should offer some sort of confession in return. Later, you decide. Because right now, whether it’s from the words that just left his mouth or simply how delectable he looks up close, giving Hyunjin a damn kiss is your best option.

It’s nothing more than a peck—once, twice, three times, on the fourth, however, Hyunjin finally seems to come to his senses. With one hand sliding up your back to press you closer and the other coming to cradle your jaw and angle it to his liking, three simple pecks quickly evolve into much more. And for the time being, you’re entirely lost in the plushness of his lips and the taste of his tongue and the fire his touch leaves behind as he reaches for everything but nothing all at once.

“Hyunjin,” you squeak out without even meaning to. You hadn’t even meant to stop kissing him, but here you are, fingers twisting in his shirt and body throbbing with a need you did not think you would feel tonight. “Yes?” He hums, making his way down your neck with the way you tilt back for him, littering your skin with pillowy kisses in between the small bruises he sucks along the way.

“Shit, I don’t know,” you manage breathlessly, subconsciously trying to wrap your legs around his hips so that the slow roll of your core against him does more to satisfy your growing desire. “You have a problem down there?” Hyunjin whispers, noticing the determined movement and dropping a hand buried in your hair to grip at your thigh, thumb tapping at your clothed center, just a few centimeters below your most sensitive nerves. Still, it has electricity coursing through your veins and you nod hastily, lifting your hips to try and position yourself so his thumb presses into your clit.

Realizing what you are trying to do, Hyunjin clicks his tongue and moves his hand further away, stifling a laugh when you whimper. “Jesus, ___, what happened to you? I didn’t expect you to be so needy,” the fucker giggles, lifting you by the hips to guide you into spinning around and sitting between his legs, back now pressed to his chest.

“I didn’t expect Hwang Hyunjin of all people to tell me he’s possessive of me,” you retort despite how lightheaded you feel with the way his hands roam, one hand dipping under your sweatshirt to slide over the warm skin of your stomach and give your breast a squeeze; the other trailing over the waistband of your shorts.

“It’s true,” Hyunjin sighs dreamily, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. Instinctively, you drop your head against his shoulder and tilt to kiss the curve of his neck, unable to fight your smile. “Before we do anything though, ___, I have to know,” he clears his throat, fingers finally slipping beneath the fabric of your shorts and underwear, “is this going to be a one-time thing?”

This question in itself is enough to sober you from the desire clouding your mind. Leaning up just enough so you can twist around and look him in the eyes, you offer Hyunjin a reassuring smile before anything else.

“No,” you answer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “we still have so many horror movies to watch together.”

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alexawynters · 3 years

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Venting. Don’t take this too seriously it’s fine I’m fine.

So my recent ex gf of 8 months (I count the time we were fucking around as well as dating bc let’s not lie I caught feels early because I’m pathetic) who broke up with me a little over two months ago is now hooking up with one of my closest friends.

Its cool. I still cry myself to sleep, have nightmares, and wake up crying throughout the night but it’s fine. I spend more time drunk than sober (I had been doing so well! It was two years since I was last an alcoholic) and replaying every red flag, every moment where I thought to myself “you know, I don’t think she really likes me, you don’t treat the people you like this way right?” And then my dumb desperate ass was like “no we’re going to overlook this because surely she would tell me right? Besides I’m asking for too much, I should just be grateful she even expressed any interest at all. Stop being needy. Stop asking for anything other than what she is giving you because you’re lucky she’s even with you, what’s wrong with you?

Like. The first two months we were together? I called my besties every other week crying because I felt like a human sex toy. She didn’t even seem to want to do relationship things. I didn’t understand why she even asked me out, I had told her before we got together if all she wanted to be was fwb that was okay. But she asked me out so I was like okay cool. You want to date me. As in be in a relationship. I’m excited for this. Let’s do relationship things. We didn’t often do relationship things. We did sexual ones instead.

Then after two months suddenly the sex all but stopped. I thought to myself okay cool every relationship hits a plateau, and levels out. This is normal. Little did I know that was the slow death of us. The. I was calling my besties every other week again, still crying, begging to know what I was doing wrong. Why wasn’t I good enough? Why didn’t she seem interested but was still with me? What was I doing wrong? What was I not doing enough of, or too much of, or just not doing right? What was wrong with me that I couldn’t seem to interest her beyond the bare bones minimum?

I found myself begging for her to spend time with me. I lived with roommates who were our friends, and it always felt like she wanted to spend more time with them than me. I had to ask her if we could have some “just us” nights which, rarely were ever actually just us unless we went out. There were times she would literally, every five minutes look out the window to see when my roommates were home, and I was like ???? Do you not want to spend time with me? She would go to the kitchen to get something and be gone for twenty minutes to an hour at a time, having gotten distracted and hanging out with them. Which isn’t inherently bad to be clear but it happened so often and I wondered. I never forgot about her when I was leaving the room and got stopped for a conversation. If I knew I was going to be long I would text her to invite her or let her know.

I had even told her if she wants to just hang out with them, she could. I genuinely wouldn’t have minded that. Have fun with your friends, you should. I could hang out in my room and be me (I’m incredibly introverted, autistic, and have anxiety, and the living situation had me ~*stressed*~ out) but she didn’t want to do that.

If we were out on a date, she was almost always texting, or snap chatting somebody else. I always tried to make it a point to focus on us when we were in dates, but it never felt reciprocated. I brought it up and then felt like an asshole for already asking for just us time, and now to please not be on your phone when we’re on a date. She looked so sad, like I had scolded her. I would replay it over and over in my head - I tried to be gentle and polite, not accusing or angry. I checked my words carefully and ran them by multiple people to try to be as non aggressive and non accusatory as I could before I ever spoke them to her. Clearly I didn’t succeed.

She has OCD (nothing against it and I usually found it endearing) and would sometimes go into a loop. I always tried to help her but usually just ended up frustrating her. She snapped at me on occasions including in front of my friends and didn’t often apologize for it. Something my friends brought up after she did it in front of them, and I made excuses for it. She was stressed out, I would be too, stop being so hard on her.

She never planned anything with me, I always had to do it. I brushed it off as her having anxiety and not liking planning, but when she asked me “oh we’re still doing that?” for the trip for my nieces wedding in which I was taking her to meet my (extremely judgey) family, the trip that I had been updating her on weekly about the plans trying to get any input from her on, the trip that I had to pull in favors for and grovel to get the time off to go to? I should have said never mind and cancelled it.

She didn’t even help plan my birthday. My best friends did, and showed me the texts where they were getting frustrated with her lack of input on it because she’s my girlfriend and surely she would want to participate in that? Want to help surprise me? It was my first surprise party ever. I told her thank you and she acted like she had absolutely had a hand in planning. Meanwhile my friends all got together while she and I were gone to vent about how pisses they were at her for her lack of effort.

I have some childhood trauma and I don’t like to be touched sexually. I’ll touch my partner and even enjoy it but I don’t like being touched. It triggers me. But she said no less than three times to different people “yeah I’ve still never gone down on a girl or anything” which made me feel like I wasn’t being a good enough girlfriend. So I got sex therapy. I worked through it as best I could. Not for me. I didn’t want to be touched that way but I wanted my girlfriend to be happy. I wanted to do right by her and give her everything she wanted or needed in a relationship. Right about this time is where the sex stopped. She also stopped flirting or doing things she used to do before we started/right as we started dating that were clear indicators that she liked me. (I am an oblivious idiot)

I started to get worried. Why was I working this hard if she didn’t actually want to touch me? I was happy not being touched, but now I was starting to think something was wrong. I was starting to feel like she didn’t even want me. I started asking for sex as reassurance that she was still interested. Still attracted.

She called me a horn dog.

Not just to me but also later to my best friend. I was so mortified I wanted to jump out of the window and run into traffic. *I* was a horndog? All I wanted was affection and reassurance. She said her love language was physical affection and so was mine but she rarely gave me the cuddles I needed. I would ask her for “pets” - where she would play with my hair or just run her hand up and down my arm. This for me is intimacy. I had no problems doing it for her ever but she would get annoyed when I asked, saying it was hard for her to focus on the tv.

Okay? So? I’m not asking much, I didn’t think. I stopped paying attention to the tv when I was petting her. I made her my whole focus so she would feel loved. I mean unless it was like Harry Potter but I would be mindful to alternate so she wouldn’t be left out.

She only introduced me to one of her friends (who I thought was pretty cool but I worry she hates me so I just don’t talk to her now). At first I thought this was because she was in the closet. To be clear I never had a problem with that. I would never push someone to come out before they were ready and I hate movies and media that have the partner doing that. It’s shitty and dangerous. If she felt safer in the closet more power to her. I actively went to bat for protecting that secret for her. Sometimes our friends would forget and tag her in shit that would out her. I would be in their texts and calling them immediately explaining the situation and asking them to untag or take the post down. I’m not saying that as any sort of bragging. That’s literally the least I could do. I’m saying it to illustrate that I don’t have a problem with her being in the closet. But then she told me her friends knew about us. So I was like okay cool you’ve met all of my friends and are part of the group. I’d like to meet your friends. “Um.. they’re just really busy”. I mean. Yeah so are my friends and I didn’t mean like right now I just meant maybe mention it to them and we can some time schedule a hang out. “They’re just really busy”. Red flag but okay. Gonna just. Overlook this one too. It’s fine.

I spent more nights when she visited waiting for her to fall asleep so I could cry myself to sleep over how worthless I felt. Why was I doing this? Everything hurt but maybe I was just asking too much. Had my expectations too high. I’ve been told that before. Usually by people who have left me, those who stay (and my therapist) insist I’ve been asking for the bare minimum. To this day I still don’t know. If all you get is nothing , surely you are nothing? You don’t deserve to ask for more.

By June I started thinking she’s not happy with me. I’m not the one she wants. I don’t think much of myself. I don’t think I’m worth anything. I wrote her a letter that sat in my desk at work, basically saying that she deserved to be happy. She deserved to be with someone who sparks excitement, joy, and romance in her. Someone she wants to introduce to her friends (that she’s out to). Someone that she wants to spend time with and forgets about anyone else (within reason obviously, not like actually forgetting the world friends and responsibilities). Someone she is actually excited to spend time with and looks forward to. Someone that makes her not want to cancel every other date. She shouldn’t settle, even if it’s for me.

It broke my heart to write that letter. I was going to give it to her after her birthday because I didn’t want to be a sick and break up with her right before/on her birthday. Turns out she beat me to the punch and dumped me after I took her home.

I don’t know why I was surprised. The entire relationship things didn’t feel right. I always felt like I was doing something wrong. People in my life always seem to like the idea of me and then when they get to see the real me suddenly it’s like oops too much I’m out. Or alternatively they just.. they think I’m interesting and then lose interest.

My birth mother rejected me not once but twice. My adoptive mother was thrilled at the idea of me until I got to be about 4 and she realized something wasn’t quite right. My dad doesn’t care enough about me to stop drinking. Almost every single best friend I’ve ever had growing up has left usually because of some stupid shit I’ve done or because they’re embarrassed of me. Cheryl thought I was some monster out to hurt my friends (even when said “hurt” friend who was actually there went to bat for me and confirmed that I was literally just in the wrong place at the wrong time). Holly stopped caring. Brie never cared. Johanna only cared when she could use her affection of me to hurt someone else she was being petty with. Lissa only wanted someone she could bully, and even once she had me it wasn’t enough. Jerika definitely didn’t want me, and even my closest friend of 17 years Amy left for three months in which I genuinely thought she wasn’t coming back because I had the audacity to try to help her out of a panic attack. Jocelyn couldn’t stand me for more than a week at a time and roxii didn’t have the time of day for me after Americorps.

I feel like my whole life has just been a game of measurements that’s found me wanting. I tried. I tried so hard and I know I didn’t succeed I know there were things I could have done differently with my latest ex. Things I could have done better. I’ve never wanted anything to work so much in my life. Never tried so hard and still I wasn’t enough. I’m never enough.

I watched her, the woman that I was in love with, slowly lose interest in me over the course of about 4 months. Do you know what that’s like? What that does to you? The more I tried, the quicker she seemed to fade. I kept thinking if I just try harder, I’m just not doing, saying the right things. I read every book on relationships I could get my hands on (blatantly ignoring the parts that told me I should see the red flags for what they were and step away). I took notes. I watched therapy videos. I put to work every therapy technique I had ever learned. I wasn’t perfect but I was going to give this everything I had. Just once I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I didn’t try. I wanted to be as healthy, loving and supportive of a partner as I could because I loved her and didn’t want to hurt her. I knew that I had a lot of personal growth that I had been working on before I met her and I wanted to really ramp that up while I was with her to be good to her. To be good for her.

I��m not even mad. My friends say I should be. They’re mad on my behalf and I’m the one telling them to be nice, and defending her. Part of me thinks they’re right but mostly, mostly I think I’m just a steaming pile of shit and I deserved this.

I wasn’t enough. I’m tired of not being enough. I’m tired of fighting the universe showing me over, and over, and over, and over, and over again how absolutely worthless, not shit I am.

When she broke up with me I told her I felt like I was losing one of my best friends. She said we’re still friends I’m still going to be in your life and we will still talk. Turns out that’s only if I initiate and usually shortly after she shuts it down. So. I guess not.

I asked her one thing and that was when (not if because obviously when, I mean if you saw her you would understand) she moved on if she could just not bring the new person around for the first few months so I didn’t have to see it immediately I would appreciate it and she was like yeah for sure. I told her I wanted her to be happy and I meant it. I just didn’t realize it was going to be barely over 2 months and with one of my good friends.

To be clear she can date whomever she wants. I just thought there might have been more time between them showing up publicly and honestly? Even if her friend was single, interested in me, and I interested in her, I wouldn’t have dated her friend. Even if the positions were reversed and I actually broke up with her first, I wouldn’t have dated her friend. I would imagine that would hurt and I never want to hurt her. Ever. I just.. I wouldn’t have done it. And then she told my one best friend to not tell my other best friend or me and I’m like?? So you know this is a little shady and you’re still gonna?? Like you literally couldn’t wake a couple more months? Just til after Friendsgiving so I don’t have to come to a group event and plaster on a smile when it makes me want to stab myself in the heart.

Alright. Well. Good for her. And I mean that. I just.. can’t see that right now so I’m not seeing any of them. I heard the song Reminds me of you by Kim petras today “cut off all my friends because they remind me of you” and literally felt punched in the gut. Like yep. Too right. Because what am I supposed to go go hang out with my closest friends, where she and her new partner are, and fake a smile? I’m barely holding it together. There’s literally not a day in which I don’t want to kill myself.

Not because she broke up with me. Because I’m tired of being worthless to everyone I care about. Like why the fuck am I even here? Is this what I was born for? To be trash? To be used by people until they find someone better? Or to be someone’s quirky new friend until they find out my quirks are not an act? Or for people to think Im interesting only to slowly realize that I’m not and want nothing to do with me?

I think about all the things I’ve survived that I shouldn’t have and get frustrated because wHY? Why couldnt I just have died and been done with everything? I said to Nathan the other day that at some point I have to realize that the common denominator here is me. Clearly I am the problem. Clearly I am worthless and it’s time to fucking accept that. His reply was that it’s easy to think that you’re the common denominator when it’s your life but that’s just because you’re stuck in it. Idk man. I don’t think I have just extraordinarily shitty luck. I think it’s just me.

I am worthless. Not shit. To anyone. There are some who have stayed but it’s literally just a matter of time until they leave. It’s inevitable, and I’m tired of trying to pretend it’s not. I’m tired of trying to pretend I’m worth something to anyone. I’m tired of begging people to care about me, family, friends, partners. I’m just tired. So tired. Im tired of being tired.

Fuck my life insurance policy. The majority of the people on it don’t care about me anyway, so fuck it if it doesn’t pay out. It wouldn’t be my problem. Sitting here trying to think of ways that wouldn’t traumatize my roommates, would be guaranteed, relatively pain free, and wouldn’t put anyone else at risk. And then I remember I’m a coward and if I fuck it up then there goes what little I have made of my career, I’d lose my job (not that I’m thriving anyway), I’d probably be permanently damaged in ways that would then make me a burden to my parents.

Maybe I can’t kill myself, but somebody else sure could. I could find somebody abusive and just throw myself into that until one day they take it too far. That’s about what I deserve. And then my policy would pay out and the people I live most would be taken care of, regardless of how their treatment of me makes me feel. Maybe I could do some good in this world. The only good I’ll have ever done but it has to count for something right? Who am I kidding nothing I do counts for anything but I’m crazy and keep doing the same things expecting different results.

It’s funny. The one person who wants to leave me the most, can’t. I wish I could though.

Don’t take this too seriously I’m venting. it’s fine, I’m fine.

#God I wish that I could do that #Good for you #TW depression #I’m fine #tw suicidal ideation

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Creep part 2 (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x fem!Reader

Genre: Spice!

Sequel to Creep (part 1)

Summary: Your roommate forces you to a dorm hangout with her boyfriend where you get hit on by a creep, only to have Bakugou come along and help you with the situation.

Word count: 2,835

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: More spice than the first part ;) This one took a different turn from the first part, so I hope you all like it! The ending might be a little rushed because I’m really exhausted and I wanted to finish this before I pass out on my keyboard.

This part was inspired by a Tiktok that was going to be a completely different scenario, but it ended up fitting perfectly as a sequel, so I used it!

Also I hit 100 followers!? In 2 weeks?! What are y’all following me for, I’m trash!? Nonetheless thank you for supporting my tiny blog out of the vast world of Tumblr, I really appreciate it. 100 followers may not seem like a lot for some of you, but I never expected this to happen and I’m so grateful for each of you 😘😘 Ok enough of the mushy stuff, onward to the sequel!

Maybe I was hit by cupid's arrow. Or the devil's, considering the type of thoughts I'm having.

I'm not usually the kind of person who lusts over people or their appearances. I'll at least acknowledge them as hot and then move on, but I don't dwell on them. Until I went back to our shared dorm still wearing Bakugou's hoodie and started having flashbacks of our few moments together. His scent coupled with the memory of his smirk and those intense crimson eyes left me with a lingering high. We had left things unfinished, and that little nagging in the back of my head drove me to do something I wouldn't normally do.

And that was stalking him. I ended up scrolling through Ochaco's following list for his profile, and finding it was akin to discovering a hidden treasure. From the outline of his build in that long-sleeve shirt I last saw him in, I knew there was something there. While his profile displayed mostly pictures of his friends hanging out, there were also clips of him training in the gym. Only when I chose those to watch those and scrolled to the end of the set would I be gifted with a beautiful mirror selfie of him in a black tank top. Even just standing there, hands in his pockets or arms crossed across his chest, the curve of his arms and veins straining underneath entice me.

But that wasn't what stands out to me the most. It's actually his neck. In the small amount of time I'd spoken to him, the moment that he removed his hood and exposed it to me is the image that replays the most. The structure of his muscles and his collarbone melding together into a perfect sculpture of a man. That's what mostly haunted me. To think it's one of the more sensitive parts of him makes my heart pound a little harder. In every picture, it was the first thing I looked for.

"You planning on taking that off anytime soon?"

I jolted when Ochaco's sly comment awoke me from my reverie. "Yeah, I just needed to check something first," I tried to play it off before - reluctantly - ripping the hoodie off of me.

And now, the day after that, I have to give it back to him. This morning, a rogue though flashed into my mind: instead of simply handing it to him, I could wear it to class and have him watch me peel it off my body. Such a thought never occurred to me before, startling me for being brash.

I did wear it though. I told myself it was cold in the classroom and I would need it.

When I walked into the classroom, I didn't dare to glance at the back for him since my thoughts haven't been the purest and I think I might've choked if I didn't mentally prepare myself. If he was nice enough, he would have respected that sign, but he wasn't.

As soon as I turned around from getting a pen from my bag, there he was leaning on my desk, earning an embarrassing squeal from me.

His head tilts against his arm. "That's a lovely shade on you."

My breath stops for a millisecond. Huh?

Bakugou twirls one of the strings on the hoodie around his finger. "The black matches your nails."

Oh. Duh. "Yeah? I might keep it then." Just to make my point, I pull the hood up on my head. "You're probably not getting this back."

"Hording my clothes now?" He clicks his tongue, "Sounds like you're the creep now. Or just a thief."

Haaa, you don't know the half of it. From the position he's in, leaning down on the desk and resting his head on his arm, there's a very perfect view of his neck and collarbone right in front of my eyes from under his black shirt and denim jacket. I try not to linger on it and force myself to concentrate on his face instead. "I'll give it back after class, this room is always too cold for me." But today it feels just a bit hotter.

We agree to get lunch and head to the library after class until the professor arrives and he returns to his seat, but not before sending a wink my way. I clutch the neck of the hoodie, stunned as the gesture spirals be back to us almost kissing, before the fire alarm rudely interrupted everything. For the rest of class, I'm more concerned with how to take off an oversized hoodie in a sexy way than any kind of modern British prose.

We decide on staying on one of the library floors where a moderate level of talking is allowed, taking over a small, private study room where the door is transparent and there's a rectangular glass window to see inside. I'm partially thankful for the extra insurance keeping me from possibly jumping on him, but that doesn't keep me from staring and letting my mind run wild.

Bakugou chose the seat at the head of the table and I chose the seat adjacent to him. "I can't get over how the old hag typed out an entire 7 page guideline on how to write this paper. Does she expect us to write a dissertation or something?!"

I slurp my udon. "She needs to chill. I thought her sarcastic humor was funny the first week of class, but she's getting on my nerves now."

"Then why do you keep laughing at all her jokes?"

"Because I need to kiss up to her so she can at least remember me to give me a good grade for one." I put a piece of chicken in my mouth. "And also, I'm low key scared of her killing my first born child."

Bakugou almost chokes on his Mapo Tofu laughing at that, throwing his head back and slamming the table. The image of me kissing his neck flashes through me and cuts my laugh short. Calm yourself! I clear my throat. "Speaking of scary people, if I had met you at the party, I would've had a very different impression of you, since you were much more...aggressive there."

He has a confused expression before he looks down at his food. "You mean how I was screaming playing that game?"

"Yeah." I note how uncomfortable he looks on the subject. "I guess people usually think that of you?"

"Something like that. I was kind of a loudmouth in high school, I think I've gotten better." He turns to me, twirling his chopsticks in his hand curiously. "What was your first impression of me?"

I shrug. "You're quiet, you have a brain in your head, and you like to sleep in class sometimes."

The blond snorts, "People don't usually associate me with 'quiet,' you'd be the first."

Should I be flattered by that? I wonder.

We finish our meals without another word. I pull out my laptop and start looking through the guidelines for our paper again. "I don't even know what book I want to write about, they're all so boring."

Bakugou shrugs, still peering into his laptop screen. "I would just pick the one with a theme you can bullshit the most about."

"I guess," I slump down onto my arm. I always liked reading growing up so I didn't think I would have a tough time in this class, but the professor really drains the energy out of me.

I feel a bit hot in his hoodie, perking up at the opportunity to pique his interest. Maybe I can lift it up so my shirt underneath slides up and shows my stomach a little? Would that be sexy? How do I remove it casually enough in one swift movement without fucking it up? Maybe he'll find any way I do it attractive, because hopefully that's how guys think.

I decide to just try it an see how it goes. Lifting it with both hands from the bottom, I drag the hoodie up and almost get it over my head, feeling my shirt underneath lifting below it. I try straightening my back to make my posture look a little more curvy than I probably already am. The problem I face is getting it off my head, which immediately dampers my effortlessly-sexy act into an awkward one. I have to slip my arms out from the sleeves and push it up from underneath, messing my hair up slightly in the process.

I sneak a glance out of the corner of my eye to gauge his reaction in case he saw it. There is none, his eyes are still glued to the screen.

Well, that was kind of a fail, I think, throwing the hoodie onto the space between us. I'm just a bit disappointed that I can't channel my inner flirt around boys I like, but it's not the end of the world.

"Too bad, I thought you look pretty good in my hoodie," he spares me a smug grin.

I freeze up at the statement, heat rushing to my cheeks. "I think so too," I murmur, "Maybe I should steal your jacket too."

He stops tapping on his keyboard and stares at me with an unfamiliar emotion. I'm about to ask what he's thinking before he removes his jacket and hands it to me. "I'd like to see that."

I almost think it's a joke, but I take it from him anyway, draping it around my shoulders without putting my arms through the sleeves. I get the sense that it might be too big on me if I put it on. A fresh bout of his scent comes with it, sending me into another spiral of unhealthy thoughts.

"I think the universe is trying to tell me something, because you look good in all my clothes," Bakugou leans back in the seat, looking down his nose at me.

The implication makes my heart flutter. "Yeah, they're actually mine and you'd stolen them from me before. Or you just have a really girlish figure." Like hell I believe that, you were probably sculpted from stone by the gods.

"Pfft, whatever you say," he rolls his eyes and looks back his laptop, scanning over the notes he wrote down. "So, this is the list of themes for each of the books we read for class, wanna hear it just in case it triggers something for you?"

My mind is still hung on the sculpted from the gods thought, so I absently nod while staring at him to make him think I'm paying attention. In reality, my thoughts wander to the pictures I'd seen of him a few nights ago, the gym mirror selfies in his tank tops. His arms are definitely just a teaser for what he probably has underneath that shirt, and I'm betting on there being a washboard waiting for me to run my hands over, judging by the brief glance I had down his shirt earlier.

Unconsciously, my eyes trace down to his black button down. It practically teases me, his top 2 buttons undone to expose all of his collarbone and the top of his defined chest. I don't have to go by the low quality mirror posts on his profile or the fuzzy memories from the party, it's right there for me to see. Flashes of me running my fingers over his neck as I nibble on his ear, rogue noises of his hypothetical sighs of bliss, my hands spreading his shirt open to allow for more space to kiss down his muscular neck. Each new image quickens my heart rate and sends a new tremor down my body.

I'd love to just devour him.

"Hey!"

Both his voice and the rational one in my head snap me back to reality. Did I really just-

Annoyance creases in his brow as I recompose myself and sit up straight. "Sorry, I didn't catch the last thing," my voice comes out noticeably strained.

"What's wrong with you-" Just like that, his face crosses with an awareness that only morphs into a smirk. "I guess you're letting your mind wander."

My eyes widen. Shit, he knows, I'm caught! "No, I'm just-"

"We've only known each other for a day and you're already obsessed with me, aren't you?" He leans forward, only to have me lean back, but he pulls the collar of his jacket on me to keep me in place. "That might be a little unhealthy, don't you think?"

I'm staring at his descending lips, part of me holding a desire for them to quell the feeling I've locked up.

Bakugou hums low, breath caressing my face. "I think we have some unfinished business from the other night. You must've been thinking about that." His gaze flickers down to my slightly agape lips before slamming his down on them. Though it's not delicate by any means, it still feels like a tester. Electricity shudders through me at our long-awaited reunion, and when he pulls away for a moment to look down at me with half-lidded eyes, I know he feels the same thing.

And something breaks free inside me. I hurriedly press my lips back against his, catching him by surprise. I take the lead, quickening the tempo of our kisses as one of my hands tangle in his soft hair, not giving either of us time to breathe. Leaning forward into him, my stomach presses into the table corner between us, and I break away from him. Allowing only a few pants, I jolt from my seat and round the corner to take the place of his lap and join our lips again forcibly, my knees on either side of him, pressing our bodies together against the back of the chair and swiveling into the table for stability. He was caught off guard before, but he melts into me and allows his hands to grab my waist.

I trail my tongue onto his lower lip before tracing my lips across his jaw. "You weren't expecting this, were you?" I breathe against the shell of his ear, his natural musk filling my nostrils.

A low groan escape him. "I didn't think you wanted me this much. Must've driven you a little crazy somehow."

My hand tangled in his hair drags down his neck, my nails grazing it ever so slightly, eliciting another growl from him and his grip me tighter. "I'll show you some of what I was just thinking about." Starting at the base of his ear, I pepper more open-mouthed kisses down the same neck that's haunted me, sometimes tickling my tongue over the spots he stiffens up at.

Once I reach the base of his neck, barely caressing that taunting collarbone, I move the opening in his shirt away to expose more of his chest to me, continuing up to where his shoulder and neck conjoin, remaining there to massage it with my lips and lightly graze my teeth on it. "This little creeper wanted to taste this neck you love to flaunt." I pull away and meet his wanton gaze. "I wonder if I should mark it."

Calloused hands dig under my shirt as he catches his breath. "Depends. What kind of relationship do you want from me?" He's holding himself back.

I never stopped to think about it. He's a pretty great guy, we have pretty strong chemistry, and we bounce off each other really well, not to mention he's the only guy to have awakened such new feelings from me. Looping my arms around his neck and joining our foreheads together, I mutter against his lips, "Let's go on a few dates maybe?"

He smirks and gives me another slow kiss before pulling away. "Deal. But let's take this slow. I can very easily do something like this to you too, but then how will I get to know you?"

I sit back on his thighs. "Fair point. And, just an aside," my face gets warmer at my admittance, "I don't normally do this. I'm usually more reserved, but you're different, I guess."

"I think you were just really thirsty for a real man," he winks, earning a shove in the chest from me. "That was an impressive show though, I'll give you credit. Maybe later, I can show you what goes on in my head. Except, it's a lot more than just a few neck kisses."

I almost choke on that, my cheeks growing even hotter.

Bakugou's expression softens, the teasing disappearing. "But before that, we can enjoy ourselves in calmer things. Like dinner? Or bowling?"

My chest swells with something lighter than desire. "Sounds like a plan."

He plants a kiss on my nose. "Okay, now get off before someone walks in on us. It's a study room, not a make out room, creep."

I get off him and settle back into my seat. "I think I prefer the term 'perv,' thank you very much."

#Bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #college!AU #bakugou imagine #bakugou scenario #bakugou spice #female reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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marauder-exe · 4 years

Text

AU list!

hi! These are a bunch of Au’s that i could write,and you could request! (reposting because it didnt work the first time)

General

Fake dating (My personal favourite)

Soulmates

Coffee shop

Modern Royalty

Rockstar

Running From The Police

Rebel Against The Goverment

High School

University

Law school

Delayed-Flights-And-Were-Stuck-In-The-Airport-And-Its-Like-2Am

Roommates

Road Trip

Arranged Marriage

Im-Arranged-To-Marry-Your-Brother-But-Were-In-Love

Amnesia

Tattoo-Artist-And-Coffee-Shop-Worker

Loved-Since-Childhood

Professor-Student (of age)

Met-On-Holiday

More detailed

21.You were singing/playing guitar/etc. in the park to protest the war and a policeman tried to dismiss you for 'disturbing the peace' but you argued that you were promoting peace and things got heated and next thing you know you're being arrested for assaulting an officer. You intrigue me, so I'm here to bail you out and maybe take you on a date?

22.the nice one who everybody loves with the grumpy and strict one that the students hate and the students wonder?????????how what the fuck

23.we just had a one-night stand but a massive storm hit so now we’re snowed in, hello awkward

24. i sit at the rental booth at our local ice rink and watch you teach children how to skate

25. alternatively, i watch kids teach you how to skate because you’re a terrible skater

26. i’m running late to an important interview/meeting and you accidentally spill your hot cocoa all over my outfit

27. you’re my hot ski instructor and i’m failing the bunny hill

28. i slip on some ice and you’re the stranger who catches me

29. i gave my winter coat to a homeless person and come into your store to warm up

30. our friends rent a cabin to go skiing and we’re the only ones who stay inside

31. you’re the asshole of our group and we don’t get along, but then i find out you make soup for the local shelter

32.we’re waiting in line for the club when you complain that your roommate stole your gloves so let me warm your hands up with mine

33.my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and i’m so sorry

34.the power goes out in our apartment building, but i’m not prepared for this, and you come to check on me

35.i’m having a snowball fight with my friend in the park and i hit you instead

36.a storm is delaying our flight home and i’m afraid of thunder, please talk to me while we wait

37. we’re both in small claims court and i got into a huge fight with the person suing me but you stepped in to hold me back before security got there

38. i drove two hours to the closest video rental store that’s still operating and you were checking out the only copy of the movie i was after

39. i hit you with my car but luckily you’re okay, but we should still exchange information i guess

40. i was worried about buying something off of someone creepy from craigslist but oh no you’re hot

41. my friend talked me into playing a drunken game of spin the bottle even though we’re all adults and now we have to make out

42. we both decided to take a [yoga/fencing/cooking etc] class and we’re the only two assholes not taking it seriously and everyone else is giving us dirty looks but we keep grinning over at each other

43. my date just made a scene in public and got arrested and now i’m stranded in a city without a ride home

44. sharing a cab together

45. you’re trying to get me to sign a petition and i have no idea what you’re talking about

46. you’re drunk at this festival and dancing on the table and when you eventually fell i caught you

47. we both play this stupid game online and you keep beating me every single goddamn time so i called you out and you are pretty cute but can you not

48. im a bartender and you just came in here without shoes sat down and ordered a chocolate volcano and idk what the fuck that is and im scared to ask

49. we are neighbours and every night at 3:14 am you start yodeling for no fucking reason??? why???? is that you yodeling??? its been 2 months???

50.im a pizza delivery person and i just delivered a pizza to someone in the middle of a satanic ritual and they gave me their number???

51. i woke up this morning to find you sitting in my living room with a goat in a poncho??? who are you??? why is the goat wearing a poncho??? how did you get the goat in here i live on the 12th floor???

52. we work out at the same gym and you always look super legit but i know you sing hannah montana in the shower and you know i know

53. im a cashier and i saw you stuffing you pants full of potatoes and i would stop you but you already have 27 and i want to see how many you can fit

54. its 4 am and im drunk as fuck in a mcdonalds and you have been watching my trying to eat this burger for 30 minutes

55. i was playing beer pong with a coin and i accidentally threw it right into your eye at a party

56. i’m at the beach and some kids thought it was funny to bury me in the sand when i dozed off can you please dig me out

57. it’s unbearably hot and we’re both fighting over the last handheld electrical fan at the shop at the amusement park

58. hey i just met you, and this is crazy, but i get sunburned really easily so can you please help me put sunscreen on my back?

59. thunderstorm after a menacing heatwave and we’re both getting weird looks for dancing in the rain

60.i have no idea who you are but you just fainted right in front of me holy shit dude you need to drink more in this heat

61. we both chased after the leaving ice cream van like ten-year-olds and now we’re both out of breath and a bit embarrassed

62.i clearly reserved this deck chair by putting a towel on it why on earth are you lying on it who the fuck do you think you are

63. My friends bet I wouldn’t buy these three weird and questionable items and you’re my cashier.

64.Once a week I go visit the pet store just to stare at the cute kittens and puppies and you’re the nice employee who always lets me hold them and wait I think I’m going to cry hold on.

65.You’re the DJ of the University’s radio station and every time you give an opinion on a current event I have to call and argue with you because could you seriously be anymore wrong?

66.We both wait tables at the same restaurant and you’re always mad at me by the end of the night because I make more in tips

67.We have the same class and once a week you wear this graphic shirt I don’t understand and I really want to ask you about it.

68.We both work at the same craft store that literally has no customers so we have nothing to do and I’m always reading at the register but you always have to criticize my book choice what the hell?

69.I’m working the concession stand for this week’s home game and this is the fifth time you’ve come back for snacks wait are you flirting with me?

70. we’re at a bookstore and you and I seem to have similar taste in books have you read this one? How about this one?

71. you look like you need help and I’m a professional roller/ice skater but I don’t want you to feel bad about how much you suck but wow you suck

72. You ordered your food before me and they gave you a drink you didn’t want so you gave it to me

73. We’re sitting at adjacent computers in the library and I’m taking extra care not to look at your screen out of respect but what the fuck do you keep laughing at

74. as a joke I yelled out “happy birthday to someone!” in this store and you called back “thank you!” who are you

75. You heard me talking about a TV show in class the other day and now you’re passionately yelling at me about how good it is we’ve never actually spoken before

76. It’s 10:30 at night and I left my glasses at home so I can’t read any of these labels and you’re one of the only people in the grocery store and GODDAMMIT DO YOU HAVE ANY TOMATO SAUCE WITHOUT CHUNKS

77. We go to the same support group; I have social anxiety and you’re a kleptomaniac who sorta stole my heart

78. You thought you were alone at the bus stop so early in the morning so you started passionately singing Fall Out Boy but your Patrick Stump impression could use some work and I’m not really afraid to point that out

79. I’m an artist and you have a really nice face so would you mind if I drew you?

80. We’re rival up-and-coming singers and every time one of us releases a new single the other does a cover to try to make it better; we’re always trying to top each other and out-cute each other, but half our fans aggressively ship us; our agents use this to their advantage and decide we should do a duet because it’ll be popular; unfortunately now that we’re in the same studio and I’ve seen what you’re like I really wanna know what your lips feel like

81.PLEASE I REALLY CANNOT FIND MY CAT AND I KNOW IT’S THREE A.M. BUT NEIL CATRICK HARRIS AND I WOULD BOTH APPRECIATE THE HELP

82. We were both stood up for dates at the same nice restaurant so we decide to eat together and split the check but I dunno you’re pretty interesting aside from your distractingly enormous eyebrows

83. We met at a mutual friend’s cheesy masquerade party and we agree that the only good thing about this party is the masks so you can’t judge a book by its cover only now that we’ve been talking I want to see your face but I don’t know how to ask

84. You used to date my friend who absolutely hates your guts after a messy breakup and now you’re flirting with me and I really shouldn’t be so interested in you but I am

85.We pass each other every day while we’re biking on the same path so we’ve started smiling at each other and one day you’re stopped because you’re having an asthma attack so I offer you my extra water bottle and now we’re talking and now I’M the one who’s breathless

86.I lost my little sibling in IKEA and I need your help finding them

87.I'm a private detective hired to follow you, but you're endearingly boring and mostly I just like watching you and oops, I sort of find you adorable.

88. You've been sketching me for half an hour now, and just shuffled up to hand me the finished product and it's TERRIBLE but you just wanted an excuse to talk to me.

89. I'm at an art exhibit and I just badmouthed the art, because I don't get it, okay? And it turns out you're the artist. I'm so sorry, maybe I could get you coffee and you could explain what it was supposed to be?

90. We're the only two people who turned up to an underground gig and it should be awkward, but the band is amazing and you asked me to dance and hey, there's nobody watching but us.

91. You live in the apartment next to me. We're not supposed to have pets, but I KNOW you have a cat. I'll make you a deal, I won't tell, if you let me pet it.

92. I punched you because I thought you were insulting my friend, but it turns out you know each other and it was an inside joke and I'm so sorry, let me drive you to the hospital?

93. We both wanted to rent a bike for an hour but the only one they have is a tandem bike

94. I’m on a terrible date and you’re my waitor please help me

95.Our dick landlord just evicted us both

96.I’m your neighbor and I can hear you fucking someone who shares my name

97. You’re sort of famous and we vaguely know each other through bumping into each other all the time but the media thinks we’re dating

98. Your roommate cheated on me and I just threw your laptop out the window thinking it was his

99. It’s 2am on the night of my 21st birthday and we gotta fix this fucking mess by morning or else we’re fucked

100.Fuck you and your bee farm I’ve had enough

Feel free to use any of these as your own! If you wanna request you could drop an inbox saying ‘ could you do ____ AU with this character’!

#remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #lily evans x reader #cedric diggory x reader #regulus black x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #hermione granger x reader

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imaginesforyourfandom · 4 years

Text

Heal My Heart - Chapter 1

August 2007 (Y/N) POV

“All I am saying is you don’t need to rush the move in…” my mom said as I finished packing up the car. I stared at her as she gave me a sad look.

“I just want it to be done with.” I said as she moved closer to hug me.

“I know. If I didn’t know any better though, I would think you were trying to run from me.” She said with an amused smile as I shook my head. I hugged her tighter as she did her best to comfort me.

“I’m going to miss you so much mom.” I said feeling my eyes begin to water.

“You can always come down and visit if you need to.” She gave me a soft smile as I moved to get into the car.

It was about a 6-hour drive to Berkeley and if I wanted to be there before dark, I needed to leave right now. The original plan was for my mom to go with me and help me, but she got called into work so she would be unable to. I sat in the car for a moment debating on if I should stop by Christen’s place or not…I knew there was a good chance she wouldn’t be home. According to both my mom and Christen, her family would be out all day. I decided it didn’t hurt to try as I started the car and made my way over towards her house.

Once I got there, I got out and looked around for a moment. I walked up to the door and knocked as I waited for someone to open it. It seemed like forever before the door opened up. I frowned when I saw Christen’s dad. He gave me a small smile before it turned into a frown.

“Are you leaving town already?”

“Yeah…move in for Berkeley is today and I got to be checked in by 5 pm.” I said as he nodded his head. “Is Christen here?”

“Unfortunately, not. She is still out with her mom and sisters.” I tried to hide my disappointment as I felt throat begin to tighten a little. I bit my lip nodding my head.

“Oh okay. Can you tell her I stopped by and I will call her when I get settled?” He gave me a smile before stepping forward and hugging me.

“I will. Good Luck kiddo. I’ll be rooting for Stanford, but I know you’ll do great!” I smiled and hugged him back before turning and getting back into my car.

I tried not to think too much about the disappointment of not getting to see her as I started my drive up to Berkeley. I tried to distract myself the best I could considering everyone I cared about was going to be here while I was six hours away. Realistically, Stanford is only like an hour away from me so if I put in the effort than I can see Christen.

I shouldn’t look at this as having to leave everyone I care about. This is an opportunity to grow and branch out. Make some new friends and go on new adventures. I don’t know what this next chapter of life holds for me. I shouldn’t be so close minded about it though.

After a brutal drive, I finally made it to the dorm I would be staying in during my time here. I checked myself in real quick before grabbing some of my stuff and going in search of my room. When I got to my floor, I went down the hall and found my room number. The door was being held open by a case of water bottles. I walked in and saw various items around the room. I noticed one of the beds was empty as I sat my stuff on it. I glanced around observing some of the stuff my roommate had.

“Hello.” I turned and smiled when I saw a girl standing there in the doorway. She had a cautious look on her face as she seemed to size me up a little.

“Hi. I’m (Y/N). (Y/N) Torres.” I said holding my hand out to her. She shook it still giving me a suspicious look.

“Blake Summers. I guess you’re my roommate.” She responded as I nodded my head.

“Yeah. I guess so.” I said as I took note of some of the things she had in her arms. One of which seemed to be the box set to Charmed. I grinned slightly as I motioned to it.

“You like Charmed?” I asked as she glanced down at it.

“No, I own the box set for fun.” I grinned a little as she smiled.

“I love Charmed.” I said as her smile widened.

“Favorite Character?”

“Prue obviously…you?”

“Piper or Paige…or wait no Phoebe…actually I love them all to be honest.” She said as I grinned.

“Me too.” She gave a small smile before moving to set her things down.

“That was the last of my stuff. Do you need help?”

“That would be great actually.” I said as we both moved to exit the room when the door on the other side of the hall flew open.

“I’m just saying I don’t-” the girl stopped talking to who I assume to be her mother as soon as she looked at me. Blake looked between me and her as she stood staring for a moment.

“You’re (Y/N) Torres.” She said after a moment as I opened and closed my mouth before nodding my head.

“I am and you are…?”

“I’m Alex. Alex Morgan.” I nodded my head with a smile as she smiled at me. “I play for Berkeley’s soccer team.”

“Oh!” My smile widened as I stared at her. “That’s so cool! So, do I”

“I know. I would hope the national team prospect would be playing for her schools’ team.” I blushed as I nodded my head. We stood staring at each other for a moment before Blake coughed next to me.

“I’m Blake.” We both turned towards her as I smiled. “I didn’t want to interrupt your guys flirting but it was getting awkward.” I threw my arm around Blake pulling her towards the elevator to go get the rest of my stuff.

“I have a feeling we are going to be great friends.”

Once all my stuff was brought up, I collapsed onto my bed. I didn’t even want to think about having to get all my stuff unpacked and put away.

“Nope.” I turned to see Blake shaking her head at me. “You’re not resting. All it takes is a second and the next thing you know this stuff is still sitting here in a few months.”

“You should know…I’m lazy by nature.” I said as she shook her head.

“So am I…but we are creating better habits.”

“Are you one of those up at 6 am people?” I asked as she grimaced

“Bold of you to assume I sleep…” I grinned at her as I stood to start unpacking things. It was about two hours and many small arguments later that we had both finished putting things away into acceptable spots.

“Can I relax now?” I asked as she nodded her head.

I walked over laying down on my bed as I picked up my phone to see texts from my mom and Christen. I felt my heart melt a little at Christens text.

I’m sad I missed you, but I hope the day went well and you got there safely. Call me later? Love you.

I tried to suppress my grin as I tried to think of what to say. I decided to answer my mom first and let her know I had arrived safely.

“Hey, want to go to dinner?” I turned towards Blake and nodded my head. I stood and grabbed my wallet and keys before we left the room.

“Hey mind if I ask Alex to join us?” I asked Blake as she shook her head.

I knocked on her door and smiled when she opened it. She gave me a bright smile as I stared at her for a moment.

“We are going to get dinner. Want to join?” she nodded her head before turning to grab something.

“Is it cool if my roommate joins?” she asked as I looked to Blake who shrugged.

“Katie! Want to go to dinner?”

“Heck yeah I do!”

I watched as a girl with dark hair came out of their bathroom with a giant smile. I smiled at her as she grabbed her wallet before walking with Alex and I down the hall. It only took us 30 minutes of sitting in my car for us to decide on a place to go.

Once we arrived, we got a booth to sit in as we all sat there in silence before I decided to break the silence.

“So, what are everyone’s majors?” They all gave me looks as Alex was the first to speak.

“Political Economy.”

“That sounds ...difficult.” I remarked as she laughed.

“God, I hope not…”

“I am a Marketing major.” Katie said with a grin as I nodded my head. “I was going to do Biochem but then I thought nah I don’t think it's for me.”

“I’m Sports Business.” I said with a smile as Blake snorted next to me.

“Did you just spin the wheel on that one?” she asked as I grinned and nodded my head.

“I plan on going pro so I figured it could be beneficial in the future.”

“That’s actually really smart. So, does that mean you’re the smart one of this friend group?” Katie asked as I shook my head.

“Who said we were friends?” Blake asked all of a sudden as Katie’s jaw dropped. I burst out laughing as Alex grinned.

“Okay…rude.”

“What’s your major?” Alex asked Blake as I took a sip out of my drink

“Mechanical Engineering.” I stopped immediately as we all stared at her. She looked at us with a smile as we continued to stare at her in shock.

“You’re an engineering major? How did you end up in the dorms for business students?”

“I was originally a marketing major but I felt like I would hate it so I switched to mechanical engineering but they had already placed me so they just said I would stay in the dorm they put me in.”

“Dope.” I said as she smiled at me.

“So, what does being a famous soccer player entail?” Katie asked as I stared at her.

“I am not famous.” I said quickly as Katie looked to Alex.

“You said she was famous.” Alex blushed shaking her head.

“I said…she played on the youth team and is most likely to play on the senior team soon.”

“I doubt that. After the way I played in the pan am games, I seriously doubt a call up is coming.”

“Don’t say that.” Alex said as they all protested.

“Okay so what we aren’t going to do is be down on ourselves.” Blake said as I looked at her. “Yeah, I don’t tolerate that shit.”

“Yeah seriously…we are only motivators in this friendship.”

“Again, with the friendship…”

“You know what…” Katie said slamming her hand down on the table and pointing aggressively at Blake. “Just for that…I am forcing my friendship on you.”

“Please don’t…”

“Oh, it’s happening. On you.” She pointed towards me. “On you.” Then to Alex. “And you.”

“Well…barely a day in and I already have a stalker.” Blake said as I chuckled.

“Okay so some cool facts about myself that you all need to know…I am a vegetarian, I don’t like bananas and I am allergic to oranges, I love tennis mainly watching cause like I only run sometimes so playing it is a no, and I have to do laundry every Sunday otherwise I might lose it.” Katie said as we all stared at her with varying degrees of amusement.

“You are fascinating.” Blake said as Katie jokingly flicked her hair over her shoulder.

“Why thank you…oh! I also play a ton of instruments” That seemed to catch Blakes attention as they then started talking about the instruments that they play.

“You will get the call-up you know…” I looked to Alex with a small smile.

“It’s fine if I don’t…not like they are lacking in great defenders.” I said as she shook her head.

“You will. Most of them are getting older and they will need new talent.”

I smiled at her as we continued eating. There seemed to be a very nice and comfortable atmosphere between all of us. It felt like I had known them for a lot longer than just today. Once we paid the bill, I drove us back to campus.

“Can I just say it is so nice that you have a car?” Katie said as we got out of the car.

“Only for now.” I said making sure it was locked. “I have to give it back to my mom this weekend.”

“Damn. Back to walking around.” Blake said as I shook my head.

“First training session tomorrow. Are you ready?” Alex asked as I nodded my head.

“Yeah, I haven’t really had a proper break from training so…” I shrugged my shoulders as she nodded.

“You definitely don’t like to talk about being on the national team…”

“It’s just weird.” She laughed as I looked down upon hearing my phone ring.

I couldn’t hide my smile when I saw Christens name pop up indicating she was calling me. I motioned for Alex to go so I could take the call.

“Hey stranger.” I joked nervously as I heard her laughter come through the other line.

“Hey! Finally, you’re alive. You haven’t responded all day” she said as I frowned.

“I know. I am so sorry. I tried to say goodbye but…”

“I know. I am sorry. I didn’t realize what time you were leaving, otherwise I would have tried a little harder to be there.”

“It’s fine.” I said I stood there silently for a moment. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” She said with a heavy sigh.

“You know I think this is the longest we have ever gone without seeing each other…”

“It’s weird.” She admitted as I nodded to her statement.

“Yeah, I’ll be coming down this weekend. I need to give my mom back her car. Maybe we could hangout before I go back?”

“Yeah definitely…” she said as I smiled.

We didn’t stay on the phone much longer due to how late it was. I walked into my room as Blake looked up from her spot.

“Just on the phone with a friend.” I said as she raised a brow at me.

“You realize you’re like glowing right?”

“Am I?” I asked as she nodded her head. “Oh, I didn’t realize.”

“Must be a special friend.” She said going back to strumming her guitar. “That’s none of my business though.”

The next couple of days were spent mostly with those three as we started doing training sessions with the team. To say I was singled out just a bit, well I don’t really know what else I was expecting.

“This place is nice.” Blake said as we were all sitting in one of the coffee shops, Caffe Strada, relaxing.

“They are also hiring.” I said standing up and asking the barista for an application.

“Classes start Monday and I totally forgot to ask what your guys schedules are.” Katie said as I sat back down at the table and looked over the application.

“All my classes are on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.” I said as they looked at me expectantly.

“On Mondays, I have Accounting with Kemp at 7:30 am to 8:20, then Microeconomics with Chang from 9 to 10:15, Brief Calculus from 10:45 to 11:35 with Hunter, Gender and Communication from 3:05 to 4:20 with Bowman, and then Business Forum on Friday Mornings every other week from 8:35 to 9:25 with Hayes.”

“Okay so you and I have like most of our classes together…” Katie said as Alex nodded along with her.

“Why the hell would you take a 7:30 am class?” Blake asked as I shrugged my shoulders.

“I really didn’t want Tuesday and Thursday classes…” I said as I looked down at the application on the table.

“Are you going to apply?” Alex asked me with a curious gaze.

“Yeah, I mean this place is on campus, near the dorms and it’s not too bad of money.” I said as they all stared at me.

“I guess I just figured that playing for the national team would get you some good money.” Katie shrugged as I sighed.

“Technically, I don’t play for the national team and even if I did…I wouldn’t be allowed to accept money from them.”

“Why not?”

“It would jeopardize my standing as a student athlete. It could make me ineligible to play.” I responded with a frown as they all nodded.

I started filling out the application before turning it back into the barista who was working. She gave me a smile as I joined my friends again.

“So, what are we doing tomorrow night?”

“I am leaving super early.” I responded earning a pout and groans from everyone. “It’s like a six-hour drive to LA.”

“You suck.” Alex said as I shrugged my shoulders.

The rest of the day was spent doing nothing basically as I made sure I had everything for the weekend. Obviously, I was excited to see my family, but I was practically shaking with excitement at the thought of seeing Christen. I hadn't seen her since the day after we graduated, and I wanted nothing more than to be with her again.

The next morning, I left bright and early as I made my way back home. It was what felt like a never-ending six-hour drive later that I finally made it back home to my house. I parked the car getting out to head into my home. I smiled upon hearing voices coming from the kitchen.

“I’m back” I said with a grin as my mom crossed the kitchen pulling me in for a hug.

“My baby” she held me tight as I smiled practically clinging to her. “Oh, I missed you.”

“Hi mom” I responded softly. I pulled away and grinned at her.

“You act like she’s been gone for years.” My aunt said with an amused look. I shook my head at her turning and hugging her. “Hey kiddo”

“Hi”

I spent a bit of time hanging out with my family before departing and making my way towards the Press household. I grinned when her home came into view. I got out of the car and went to make my way towards the front door when it was swung open abruptly. I stopped with a grin when Christen came running out of the house, jumping straight into my arms.

“I missed you so much.” She said as I held her tightly. I felt relief flood my system at having her this close to me.

“I missed you too.” She pulled back a little with the smile I missed the most. She turned and tugged my hand pulling me towards her home.

“You have to tell me everything”

“What do you want to know?”

“Do you like your roommate?” I thought about it for a moment before nodding my head.

“Yeah, her name is Blake and she’s pretty great. It’s so weird because it feels like we have known each other for so long, but really it’s only been a few days.”

“Made any other friends?”

“Yeah, Alex and Katie. They live across from us and we have hung out a lot.”

“I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, how about you? I missed you this whole time I’ve been away.” I admitted as she shot me a soft smile.

“My summer was super boring. We didn’t do anything really at all. I practiced a lot and went up to take another tour of Stanford.”

“Are you excited to move in? That’s soon.” I commented as she nodded her head.

“Yeah, I am a little anxious. I just want it to happen already. How is training? Has that started for you?”

“Yeah, it has. It’s been good. We had today and this weekend off which allowed me to come and visit. Plus, I had to bring my moms car back.”

“How are you getting home?”

“Oh, she’s going to drive me back, but she needs it for work so…plus, the campus isn’t too big.”

“That’s great. I am so sad that we aren’t going to be seeing each other really much at all.”

“I know. Me too. We will still talk though.” I insisted earning a bright smile from her. “And…Stanford and Berkeley will play each other, and I will definitely comfort you when we win.”

“Oh whatever…you’re going to be the one crying when we take you down.” She joked earning a laugh from me.

We spent the next few hours together just talking and hanging out. I knew at the end of the night I would need to depart from her. I was planning on going back to school on Sunday but sitting there with Christen made me not want to go back at all. I jumped slightly when my phone started ringing as Christen motioned for me to answer it.

“Hello.”

“Hi, is this (Y/N) Torres?”

“Yes, may I ask who this is?” I responded curiously on who would have got my number.

“This is Tatiana Villacrés. I work at Caffe Strada.”

“Oh Hi! Yes! How are you?”

“I am good and yourself?”

“I am great.”

“Awesome! So, I was just calling to congratulate you on getting hired here. I definitely look forward to working with you. If you could come in say Sunday morning so we can put your schedule together?”

“Yeah that sounds great! Thank you so much.” I practically shook with excitement as I thought about how great it was that I got a job. We got off the phone a moment later as I tackled Christen into a hug.

“Great news I am guessing.”

“Fantastic news!”

“Care to share?”

“I got a job.”

“Oh my god! That is fantastic. Where?” she grinned as we sat back down.

“This coffee shop on campus.”

“You’re going to be a barista?” she gave me an amused look as I shook my head.

“It won’t be that bad. It does mean I will need to go back earlier though.”

This caused her entire demeanor to change as she gave me a sad pout. I felt a pit in my stomach as the thought set in. I knew I would need to leave earlier and that meant leaving Christen earlier and leaving my family earlier.

This seemed to kill the excitement of being back together for the night as I went home with the promise, I would see her tomorrow. Returning home didn’t feel much better because it meant that I would need to tell my mom that I needed to go back tomorrow.

“Hey honey, how was Christen?” she asked with a knowing smile as I smiled back at her. I sat at the counter with a small sigh.

“She’s good. I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“I got a job on campus at this coffee shop. It’s not too far from my dorm and it pays pretty well.”

“Honey, that’s fantastic.” She walked around the counter to give me a hug.

“Yeah, I just…I have to be back on Sunday so I can go in and make a schedule and stuff…”

“So, that means you will have to leave tomorrow then…” I nodded my head at her with a small frown. “Well, then I will drive you back tomorrow…we can have lunch with Gina and your grandmother and then I will take you back.”

“I’m sorry mom.”

“Don’t be. We both knew things would be difficult since you are in college now. It’s time for you to live your life and not be so anchored to this place.”

“I just…I was really looking forward to spending time with you and everyone else tomorrow.” I mumbled playing with my fingers.

“I know sweetheart.” She gave me a soft smile as I looked up at her. “It’s good to have responsibilities though. You’re not a lazy person. Contributing is important for you in any capacity.”

“I know I just…I was really looking forward to this weekend.”

“How about this? Why don’t you call Christen and see what she is doing tomorrow…maybe she can sleep over tonight and she can go with us to take you back.”

“Really?” I asked my smile growing by the second.

“Yes.” I grinned standing up to go grab my phone. I quickly dialed Christen’s number and waited for the older girl to pick up.

“Hello”

“Hey its me…so I had a question for you.”

“What’s up?” she asked as a wave of nerves washed over me.

“So, you know how I said that I have to leave tomorrow instead of Sunday?”

“Yes.” I swear I could pick out just a hint of disappointment in her voice.

“So, my mom said that if you are interested you could sleep over and then go with us to take me back to Berkeley.”

“Oh my god…seriously?” I could hear the surprise in her voice which only caused my smile to widen

“Yes.”

“I’m on my way.” She said as I heard her move around the room. “I’ll be there soon.”

I chuckled as the call ended and within about 15 minutes Christen Press was walking through my door. She had an overnight bag in hand as she made her way into my room. I grinned at her as she dropped her bag and fell into my bed next to me.

“I missed this bed.” She commented as I chuckled turning so I could face her. I stared at her as she turned her head to face me. “I missed you and I am really sad you are leaving tomorrow.”

“I am too. I wanted more time with my family and to get to hangout with you.” I mumbled rolling on my back and staring at the ceiling.

“Well, we have tonight and tomorrow.”

I nodded my head at her statement before we started talking about random things. We started watching tv as she laid next to me. Her head found my shoulder as we soon fell asleep. Most of the next day was spent with my mom and Christen before we went to lunch with my aunt and grandma.

“I thought we were doing dinner.” Gina asked as we all sat at the table together.

“We were but I have to take (Y/N) back earlier than planned.” My mom said giving me a smile.

“Why?”

“I got a job and they need me to come in tomorrow to get my schedule and everything planned.” I said as Christen slapped my hand away from one of the napkins that had silverware in it.

“That one is mine.” She said as I rolled my eyes. I reached for a different unrolling it and placing the napkin on my lap.

“Anyway, I need to go back tonight instead so I have time to get ready and be there on time.”

“Well, when will you be back next then?” My grandma asked as I thought about it.

“I have no idea.”

“Well, that’s not great.”

“I know.” I looked down feeling sadness begin to wash over me again. My mom reached over and caressed my cheek for a moment giving me a smile.

“I am so proud of you though.” I smiled as we moved to a different subject.

The rest of lunch was spent talking about various things like what my classes were going to be. The conversation shifted to Christen at one point who spoke about Stanford and what classes she would be taking. She expressed how excited she would be going there. There was banter about which team was going to be better.

“I mean…I guess we will find out…” I mumbled as Christen jokingly shoved my arm.

Lunch didn’t last much longer before I was departing with my mom and Christen. I hugged my Aunt and Grandma before starting the drive back to Berkeley. I sat in the backseat with Christen as we continued talking the entire way back. The closer we got to campus the more I felt my heart begin to drop. I didn’t want to be separated again, but I needed to get back to my life here.

“Well, this is it…” my mom said as I smiled. I got out of the car and grabbed my bag as they both got out to give me a hug. I can admit I held onto Christen for a moment longer than I should have. I tried to drag out the goodbyes as long as I could before they had to leave.

The walk back to my room felt heavy because all I could think about was Christen. I need to get over her. I can’t keep living my life like this. We aren’t going to see each other for a while and maybe this is my chance to find someone who I can actually be with.

“What are you doing here?” I focused in on Alex who shot me a smile.

“I am back early. I got the job at Caffe Strada.” I said as she grinned. She came closer giving me a hug as she walked with me towards our rooms.

“That’s great! You better give me that friend discount.” She joked as I shook my head.

“Who said anything about friends?” I turned to open my door as she stood there in shock.

“Asshole.” I heard behind me as I walked into my room. I turned to smile at her as I walked over and sat my bag on my bed.

“What are you doing here?” Blake asked as I stared at her.

“I got the job at Caffe Strada and I needed to be back early so I can go in tomorrow.”

“Oh nice” she commented as I nodded my head.

The rest of the day was spent hanging out with them as I waited for the text from my mom and Christen telling me they had got back safely. I found that I had actually really enjoyed Blake’s presence. She was very blunt and sarcastic, but in an endearing way. Alex was fun to be around because I could relate to her with the soccer thing and she seemed to just get it. Katie was just fucking funny, so having her around was great.

The next day I woke up and went to get breakfast with the girls before returning to my room and getting ready for my day. They walked with me to Caffe Strada which wasn’t that far from the dorm. I walked in as they went to find a spot to sit down. I walked over towards the counter to see a girl with tan skin and dark hair.

“Tatiana?” I asked reading the name on her nametag. She smiled at me as I held my hand out.

“(Y/N)” I said as she grinned at me.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you. You can call me Tati. I am the supervisor here. If you could just give me a few minutes, I can meet with you to get everything sorted.”

“Yeah, sounds great!” I said as she smiled at me. I walked back over to sit with my friends as I waited for her to be ready to talk.

“Hey, ready?” Tati asked coming over towards us.

“Yep!” I said as I stood walking over to a free table with her.

“Okay so to be honest, I hired you because I need someone to fill the position and I like your application the best.” I grinned at that as she pulled a piece of paper out of her folder. “So, this is the timetable or atleast the template for it. We have about 5 people who work here in a rotation and I was given authorization to hire someone for my shift because I really need someone. So, basically you will work whenever I work if you can.”

“Okay.”

“Do you know your schedule for the semester?”

“I do.” I shared my schedule with her earning a smile from her.

“Oh, you’re a business major?” she asked as I nodded my head. “What major?”

“Sport Business.”

“Sweet. I am a Marketing major” she said as she turned the paper towards me. “This is the schedule currently and if you see all the times, I am working…those are the times I am hoping you can work. Obviously, when you have class, I don’t expect you to be here working.”

“Yeah, I mean if I could be two places at once my life would probably be a little easier.” I joked as she laughed.

“I feel that on a personal level.”

“Can you start now? I want to get you trained as soon as possible.”

I nodded my head as she grinned standing up. I walked behind the counter with her as she took me into the back to show me everything. She handed me an apron and handed me a little nametag that had my name on it. I spent the next few hours being trained on how to make everything. She told me I would be given two weeks to learn everything and be trained.

By the end of the night, I had started to get the hang of it just a little. She told me she was impressed with how quick I was picking everything up. I didn’t expect my friends to wait, but Blake and Alex were still there when I was getting ready to leave.

“Katie had some friends she wanted to meet up with.”

“Katie has friends?” I asked earning grins from both of them.

“How do you think you did?” Alex asked as we exited the shop and started the walk back to the dorms.

“I think it was alright. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. I worked somewhere similar back home so…”

“Yeah, you seemed to have the hang of it.” Blake said as I grinned at her.

“Did you just compliment me?” I said putting my hand on her shoulder.

“No.”

“You did. Oh my god.” I said giving her a hug as she shook her head.

“God no…let go of me.” She complained which only caused me to tighten my grip on her. “You’re literally killing me.”

“Accept my Love.”

“No.”

“You guys are so cute.” Alex joked as I grinned at her.

“Aren’t we just the cutest couple around?” I teased turning to look at Blake who gave me an annoyed look.

“I don’t know how anyone else could compare” Alex laughed as Blake glared at us both.

“Me date You? Now that’s a joke…”

“How rude…I am so amazing.” I said as she shook her head.

“No offence. You’re not exactly my type.” She said as I smiled.

“And what exactly is your type?” I asked curiously as she shrugged.

“Blondes?”

“I’m more of a brunette person myself.” I commented as she nodded her head.

“Woman in general are nice.” She said before stopping and staring at me. She had a nervous look on her face as I stared at her. Alex stopped looking between us as I stared back at her.

“That is the most relatable thing I have ever heard.” I nodded my head throwing my arm around her shoulders as she seemed to let out a breath of relief.

“Isn’t it?”

“What’s your kind of type Ms. Morgan?” I turned towards the forward who shrugged her shoulders.

“Dark hair, dark eyes kind of deal for me…” she said as I pulled her closer throwing my arm around her. I walked with my arms around both of them as we made our way closer to the dorms.

“Men or Women?”

“Both?”

“Nice. I would never be caught with a man, but I am happy for you.” I said as they both laughed at my statement. Once we made it back to the dorms, we said goodnight to Alex before going to our room.

“So, I’m guessing your gay and not bi?” I turned towards Blake who gave me a curious expression.

“Yeah, I am fully 100% gay. You?”

“Pansexual actually…” She commented as I grinned at her.

“The odds of us being roommates…”

“We got lucky.”

“We did indeed. Remember what I said…we are going to be great friends.” She smiled as we quickly got ready for bed. I felt a little better knowing that there were more things for Blake and I to bond over. For the first time, I felt like maybe the next couple of months weren’t going to be that bad.

To Be Continued…

#Alex Morgan #alex morgan imagine #alex morgan imagines #Christen Press #christen press imagine #christen press imagines #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #kelley o'hara #uswnt #kelley o'hara imagines #kelley o'hara imagine

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crimsonrae · 3 years

Text

Disintegration

Chapter Three

Summary: He witnessed the worst night of her life, he just never expected for her to become the love of his life.

KlausxCami

Warnings: Mentions of Domestic Abuse.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Something of a slow burn between Camille and Klaus. There is quite of bit of ground to cover. In the next chapter or two, there will be limited interactions between them if any. I'll explain more about why Marnie Taylor is important and what exactly Klaus is up to as we go on. Please read, comment, and enjoy. I really do appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you!

Chapter Three

"Mr. O'Connell -"

"This family has supported this university for decades -"

"Mr. O'Connell!" Dean Shaln interjected with exasperated force.

Camille couldn't fault his ire as he barely refrained from glaring at her red-faced father. Callan O'Connell was not handling the news of her expulsion well and had been on a steady rant for almost five minutes. He spoke over the harried dean with a single-minded determination that she would have found impressive if she hadn't been wishing she was anywhere else.

She hadn't been surprised by Dean Shaln's decree. She had attacked Scott in a public area on campus with hundreds of witnesses. It was the school's responsibility to keep its students safe and Camille had destroyed that sense of safety with one quick swipe of a beer bottle. She was now termed a risk to the student body and must therefore be removed. It was a shame that they hadn't deemed Scott the same risk.

If only they had seen the purple bruises and bloodied clothes of her roommate. If only, Scott had been dumb enough to hit her in the presence of another person. If only Marnie had said something...

To make matters worse, Camille had received a handful of anonymous notes, thanking her for her aggressive actions. One wishing she had done more to the predatory asshole. Tears had crawled down her cheeks as she had read each carefully penned word. In true horror, she hadn't realized the extent to which Scott had been getting away with his abuse. There had been at least three other women who had suffered silently at his hands.

"Your family's support is not in question. Your daughter's actions are." Shaln huffed with an indignant calm, "I understand she was acting in defense of her roommate but considering Ms. Taylor has yet to come forward to corroborate Camille's side, there is little I can do. There is a zero-tolerance policy on violence which your daughter was aware of when she signed the admittance paperwork. I'm sorry, but her expulsion stands."

"This is ridiculous!" Callan growled.

Cami could see him gathering air as he prepared to launch his next attack. She barely smothered a sigh. Instead, her focus turned toward the worry that gnawed at her gut like an incessant pest. Marnie hadn't been seen since Thursday night. Camille hadn't known the hospital had released her friend mere minutes after she had left her side. Her calls had gone unanswered, as had countless texts. She didn't think that Scott had managed to do anything to his girlfriend in the few short hours that Camille had been away from either... but she couldn't shake her sense of dread.

She silently prayed that Marnie had decided to lay low in hopes of making a clean break from Scott.

"Callan."

Camille stiffened at the sound of her mouther's voice. She had nearly forgotten the older woman was there...nearly.

Vivian O'Connell hadn't spoken beyond the standard pleasantries at the start of the meeting. She had sat calm, cool, and collected with near regal poise as she listened to both men and, to a certain extent Cami, as she answered questions and defended her actions. Even now, her voice was no more than a low murmur, but it effectively cut through and silenced her irate husband.

Callan turned his jade gaze – so similar to Cami's unto his wife in quiet askance.

Vivian smiled politely, "I think we've heard enough. I've arranged a meeting with the school board later this week. We will be withdrawing our funding, as will the Travis, Beaufort, and Bendecott families."

Dean Shaln paled as she listed the top three financial providers for the university. He had forgotten that Vivian O'Connell belonged to the Beaufort family and had strong ties with the other two, "Mrs. O'Conell, I hardly think that necessary."

"I do." Vivian stated stalwartly, "You talk of the safety of the students, but you have failed to address the issue of Scott Nebroski. According to campus police, the accusations that Camille has levied against him have not been the first. There have been others and yet, he remained here. Preying on the young women of this campus. This entire situation could have been avoided if you had simply expelled the so-called victim of this fiasco when he had initially been brought to your attention."

"There had been no substantive evidence of Mr. Nebroski's wrongdoing. I cannot expel a student on hearsay." Shaln defended quietly, but even Camille could hear the feebleness of his response.

Vivian snorted and Cami arched a brow at the unusually crass action, "And what would be substantive evidence, Mr. Shaln? Does a young girl need to be bleeding out in front of you? Does she need to be lying in a hospital bed or perhaps dead before you take action? It's clear that the needs and safety of the women here are not taken into proper consideration."

"Mrs. O'Connell -"

"Perhaps this will change your mind." Vivian continued as if she hadn't been interrupted and Camille watched bemused as her mother pulled a folded paper from her purse. It took her a moment to recognize the paper as one of the notes that had been left for her.

She blanched and opened her mouth in protest, "Mom!"

"Hush, Camille." Vivian reproached dismissively, "That was left for Camille. She has received several others. It's shameful that it took the actions of my daughter to put an end to this monster's reign and even that remains ambiguous. Someone here should have listened sooner."

Cami bit her tongue as she kept back an invective remark. She hadn't realized her mother had seen the notes on her desk. Unbridled anger and a hint of helplessness coursed through her veins as she watched the note slide into the Dean's hands. Those letters had been private – intimate. And while logically Camille knew that these tokens of gratitude had the potential to help her out of this mess, she hadn't wanted to spread these girls' secrets. Their pain wasn't hers to share.

The Dean merely gave the note a passing glance and Cami knew then he wouldn't read it. And if he did, he wouldn't understand.

Vivian seemed to sense the same as she arched a cold brow, "I believe we're done here. I'll be seeing you at the board meeting, Mr. Shaln."

No one missed the emphasis that she placed on the mister and Camille had no doubt that he would be out of the job by the end of the month. Her mother was many things, but ineffective had never been one.

In tense silence, the trio exited the Dean's office as he quietly followed. Shaln, by his grace, made no attempt at empty platitudes. The resignation in his façade said it all. Cami almost felt a shine of pity for the man.

"Dean Shaln, your one o'clock is here."

"Thank you, Ms. Lankam."

The quiet aside was summarily ignored by the O'Connell family. Camille could see that her father wanted to make one more cutting remark and she averted her gaze from the burgeoning spectacle. Feelings of embarrassment, and frustration were threatening to overwhelm her as it was... It was then that her gaze landed on Dean Shaln's next appointment.

A growingly familiar figure turned toward the office door and Camille found herself caught in the dully curious currents of an oceanic gaze.

Klaus.

She blinked, wondering dimly if she were imagining him. It couldn't be a coincidence that he was standing here.

"Camille." Klaus murmured with a crooked smile that danced somewhere between polite and lecherously charming, "A pleasure to see you so soon."

"Klaus - what?" She sputtered befuddled.

His smile widened slightly at her fumble, "We need to stop running into each other like this, lest I begin to think you're stalking me, love. Though I could think of worse stalkers to have."

Camille was considerably less amused. Any other time, she was sure that she would have found him charming and flirted back, but her morning had been fraught with tension, and her desire to maim or runaway – both equally appealing – roiled too close to the surface.

She refrained from rolling her eyes as she pursed her lips, "Considering I was here first, I believe that would make you the stalker, not me."

"Camille."

Cami winced, not needing to turn to picture her mother's face. The imperviously impassive mask that catered to an ice-cold stare as she studied Klaus. Vivian would have the appearance of civility with the bearing of a disdainful queen as she called her daughter to heel.

Reluctantly, she followed Klaus's curious gaze, barely noting the quiet words that her father was harshly imparting to the Dean.

No.

As for the hundredth time in the past five days her world was squandered by her mother's quiet disapproval. Disapproval which she had unwittingly extended to Klaus by simply participating in their little exchange, she was sure.

She was suddenly thankful she had his number. She would have to call and apologize to him later for whatever was about to occur.

Vivian dismissed Klaus with a flicker of her lashes, "It's time we leave. Say goodbye to your... friend."

It was insane how quickly Camille descended into her thirteen-year-old self at those words. A large part of her wanted to die from embarrassment from being ordered about like a child, another wanted to huff and start a fight, but by some strand of control, she did neither.

She gritted her teeth, her eyes flashing dangerously as she missed the morbid interest in Klaus's near rapturous observation.

Cami turned back to him, forcing a smirk that looked more like a scowl. Humor gazed back at her and she was torn between making a biting remark at him and truly smiling. She didn't want to like his enjoyment of her discomfort, "Well, stalker, it looks like we'll have to pick this up some other time."

Klaus arched a brow, but inclined his head in agreement, "I look forward to it, love. Perhaps another round of question for a question. I remember you have quite a few."

"As if you don't." Cami murmured with a softer smile, "It is good seeing you, Klaus. I'll call you."

"Will you?" His question was teasing but his eyes were daring her to stand by her words.

"Mr. Mikaelson?"

Again, the duo was broken from their bubble. This time Klaus was the one to grit his teeth as he acknowledged the Dean's summons.

"It seems we really must part ways." Klaus muttered before he stepped forward and placed a kiss to her cheek, "I look forward to that phone call."

Just as the last time, Camille felt a blush rise to her face as his bold actions. She barely blinked, only to find that he was no longer before her, but stepping into the office she had just vacated.

"I thought you were dating that other boy."

Cami barely suppressed a sigh, "Ian, mother. His name is Ian. And Klaus is merely a … well, Klaus."

Terming him a friend hardly seemed appropriate, but she would say he was more than an acquaintance. He was an enigma, a nice distraction from the foibles of her current situation. A distraction that she couldn't afford to fall headlong into, she acknowledged quietly... because as nice as it was to flirt and forget with him, Klaus came with the added danger of being trouble. Her attraction wasn't one-sided, and temptation could make her disloyal. She had no desire to betray her boyfriend in that manner.

With that thought in mind, Cami made the decision to not call Klaus. He would be no more than a passing guy in a bar that had engaged her interest for a short while.

Unaware of her daughter's meandering thoughts or disappointed resolve, Vivian merely hummed knowingly. She was not blind to the sparks the couple emitted in their short conversation, but truly Camille's taste in paramours was the least of her concerns, "Well, I'm sure Ivan is waiting for you at the dorm. We best get you packed."

Cami bit her tongue for what felt like the hundredth time. Her mother knew full well that Ivan was not his name, but these little slights were Vivian's way of reinforcing her dislike for Ian. She had done it with every single one of Camille's boyfriends. As infuriating as it was, the familiar rebuke also brought her a strange sense of comfort. Her mother passive-aggressively dismissing and critiquing her life was normal... Cami needed normal.

"Where's dad?" Cami asked as she noticed that he was no longer residing in the front office. Only Ms. Lankam remained as she diligently ignored the women from behind her computer.

"Oh, he stormed off in a huff. You know how he is and that famous Irish temper of his." Vivian murmured quietly a weary gleam entering her grey gaze, "Something that you've inherited."

Cami sighed, "Mom... I know you're not happy with me."

Her mother raised her hand to forestall any further defense and gestured for her to follow her out the building, "I didn't raise you to be a violent woman, but I will not rebuke you for what you did to that... well, I won't even dignify calling him a man. I simply wish you had been more aware of your surroundings when you acted. Could have saved us the headache."

Cami blinked "What...?"

Something resembling a smirk crossed Vivian's lips, "I saw the photos the police took of Mr. Nebroski. You may have your father's temper, but you certainly have my vicious streak. He deserved everything you gave him. Like I said I simply wished you had been smarter about when and how you acted."

Icy shock shook Camille to her core as she finally noticed the pride that shined in Vivian's gaze, and while part of her felt warmed by her mother's support, a larger part of her felt vaguely sick. Why had it taken this act for her to receive that glance from her mother?

"Right...sorry." She murmured, unsure how to progress their conversation or even if she wanted to...

"Honestly, Camille, you would think that you wanted me to be upset with you." Vivian chided.

Camille swallowed another sigh... she really couldn't win.

____________________________

In truth, Klaus had not engineered this latest run-in with Camille. It had been an accident he was more than happy to cultivate.

He arrived at Dean Shaln's office midway through Callan O'Connell's tirade. He hadn't even needed his enhanced hearing to hear most of the meeting inside and to say he was displeased was like saying the Amazon was filled with trees. True, but did not convey the depth and breadth of such foliage. He respected Mr. O'Connell's passionate defense of his daughter, but his interest had peaked with the calmly calculated words of his wife.

Mrs. O'Connell could either be a strong ally or a formidable enemy it seemed. Shaln had stupidly made her the latter. Had made him the latter as well, and Klaus hadn't even met the man yet.

Yet, standing before him now, Shaln proved to be exactly the mediocre bureaucratic cowardly administrator that Klaus had expected. He supposed that he had Mrs. O'Connell to thank for the man's near mercenary kindness. The dean was currently extolling the virtues of the university ad nauseum, more than hungry for a new prolific donor as it seemed that three would be lost in short order.

Klaus let him ramble as he silently perused the contents of the other man's desk. There was the usual paperwork nonsense and drivel that seemed to clog any office, but under a few leaves, he spied the edge of a file containing Camille's name. Two more files resided underneath, and he would bet all the money in his coffers that those files belonged to Scott Nebroski and Marnie Taylor.

Humming slightly, Klaus leaned forward and locked his eyes with the administrator, compulsion dripped from his voice, "Dean Shaln, hand me the files pertaining to the woman that was just in your office. As well as the two pertaining to Marnie Taylor and Scott Nebroski."

The Dean's brow furrowed for a moment as he dug into the papers before him, "Of course, Mr. Mikaelson. I have those just here. As I was saying, the art department could use an updated facility -"

"I'm sure." Klaus murmured as he thumbed through the contents for a moment, mildly happy he had won that bet with himself. The other two files had indeed belonged to Nebroski and Taylor, "I'll be taking these with me, and you'll say nary a word about it. Now, what can you tell me about the whereabouts of Ms. Taylor?"

"Ms. Taylor has not been seen in several days." Shaln answered immediately, concerned peaked in his muddled orbs that had Klaus frowning in consternation, "Police are searching for her – she was declared a missing person yesterday evening. Though Detective Williams informed me that the police believe her to be a runaway. Likely taken in by an abuse shelter."

That news, while unsurprising, was thoroughly unhelpful, "Detective Williams, you say?"

"Yes. He's heading the investigation into her disappearance. Her father is very worried for her." Shaln elaborated almost congenially.

"Right..."

What a wild goose chase this was turning out to be? Klaus mused absently, he hadn't had so much trouble tracking down a girl since Katerina had become a vampire herself. Lurking fury simmered in his veins at the stray thought of the Petrova doppelgänger. Forcefully he banished the image of that insipid purveyor of bad fortune and refocused on the new lead to follow. After all, finding Marnie Taylor could potentially be the key he needed to fix the mess that Katerina had created. He would have Maddox speak with the detective and see what he could glean of his case.

"Wait...why am I -?"

Klaus blinked, realizing he had let his compulsion slip as his thoughts meander. Garnering the student files had taken less time than he anticipated – Camille's attack on Nebroski and her subsequent visit to the Dean's office had expedited the process.

He really wished that he had taken more time to speak with her in the lobby. Her weary countenance and thinly veiled frustration had been plain, and he dimly wished that he had been able to bring a true smile to her lips. He was sure he could have wrangled more than a phone call...

"...interested in Marnie Taylor?..."

One he wasn't sure he would receive. Mrs. O'Connell's tepid reminder of a boyfriend had struck a mark. Klaus had caught the fine glint of guilt in Camille's jade irises before he had entered Shaln's office. Despite their flirtations, Camille seemed an honorable person. He doubted that she would take the hint of infidelity well. And from the brittle tension between mother and daughter, he was sure that such an insinuation would have festered more bitingly.

Still...

"Apologies, my mind is elsewhere I shouldn't have let my compulsion slip." Klaus entreated with a sardonic smile.

Shaln frowned, "Compulsion? What?"

"Yes, I am a vampire. Luckily for you, I'm only interested in your information and not your life. Otherwise, you'd be a mere husk on the ground right now, it helps that I need you for a few errands still."

Shaln's eyes grew wide, uncertain if the man across from him was insane or joking. By the almost maniacal glee in Klaus's cerulean gaze, he was leaning toward the former.

"You won't remember this encounter, except that it was simply with a potential benefactor of the university. You'll be developing a new art department soon. Isn't that exciting?" The hybrid continued loftily before a more demur expression crossed his mien. If Shaln hadn't been trapped by compulsion he would have been shaking from fear as he sensed something dangerous in that look.

"Oh...and as for Camille O'Connell, you will take into consideration all you know to be true of her character and of Scott Nebroski's character and admit that the university has failed its female students by letting such a cretin walk its halls. Call another meeting with Mrs. O'Connell to see what amends can be made as you reinstate Camille as a student. You'll agree to any terms set forth... do you understand?"

"Yes." Dean Shaln murmured as Klaus smiled winningly.

"Fantastic. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Dean Shaln." Klaus said genially as he offered his hand.

The dean smiled, almost confusedly as he tried not to wince in pain from the handshake, "Yes...Yes, I quite look forward to the improvements to the art department, Mr. Mikaelson."

"As do I, as do I." Klaus murmured as he swiftly exited the office.

The dean would have to excuse his quick departure. He had files to read, a woman to woo, another to find, and a curse to break after all.

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#Disintegration #Klaus Mikaelson #The Originals #Fanfiction #the orginals fanfiction #Camille O'Connell #klaus x camille #klamille

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let-me-write-shit · 4 years

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Somebody To You: 23

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Word Count: 2,662

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CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Having to stand by and watch as the person Harry cared the most about was going through even more suffering, knowing there was most likely nothing he could do to remedy the problem, was pure hell. He could tell she was trying her best to put on a brave face and hold her head up, but that facade didn’t change the fact that he had to physically hold her up so she wouldn’t collapse while she was on the phone with her ex.

Normally, Harry was the jealous type. It wasn’t something he was proud of, and he was working on it, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t care that the person he cared about was flying home to see her ex-boyfriend of several years. Who wouldn’t care? This was different, though. It was hard to put any kind of scrutiny on that when Zoey was so clearly on the verge of a breakdown. He didn’t have time to be jealous, he was too worried about making sure Zoey would be okay.

So, once Katie and Nancy were out of view, he listened. Without interruption he listened to Zoey’s conviction weaken and crumble as she explained Michael’s dad, Paul, and his battle with cancer. He listened as she described her relationship with her ex-boyfriend’s family, especially the man she referred to as ‘Pops’, and how close they had gotten during her time with Michael. He listened as she confessed feeling guilty for her lack of communication with them after her relationship with Michael had ended and how little time she had left with him, especially with her living in LA.

Harry’s heart shattered, his mind bringing him back to when his own step-father lost his battle with cancer. He’s been there before. He knows how she feels. And having to go through that so soon after losing her best friend, he couldn’t even imagine how she must be feeling right now. And Michael. It was hard to hate him right now, too. Not only did he also lose a friend last year, but he’s also just been given the news that his father had three months to live. He couldn’t fault Michael for wanting Zoey’s company at a time like this given her history with his family. Even with her obvious torment, she still managed to avoid crying. Tears lined her eyes, but shockingly, never fell. She was strong as hell. No one could say otherwise.

“I’m sorry,” Zoey chuckled, sniffling and wiping the tears that threatened to spill, “I think I’m still in shock.”

“It’s okay,” Harry pulled her close to his chest, glancing around to make sure no one was in sight before placing a kiss on the top of her head, “You’ll take it one day at a time. I’m here for you. All of your friends are here for you,” he pulled away looking into her eyes, “We’ve got your back.”

Zoey nodded with a sheepish grin and took a deep breath, “I know. I guess I need to let my parents know that they can expect me.”

“I’ll call the airline and get your flight situated,” Harry offered, “but first, let's go eat our pizza.”

When the two finally joined their friends at the main house, Katie had clearly filled everyone in on what had transpired. The energy in the room was more standoffish, no one quite knowing how to act around Zoey. This was part of the reason why she never liked to open up to anyone about any tribulations because she hated the pity. Harry was one of the few that never treated her like fragile glass or a charity case.

He couldn’t fault her friends for this, though. At least they cared. So, to ease the tension, Zoey was the first to start poking fun at the turnout of their pizza’s. Nancy had somehow managed to make her pizza in the shape of an octopus, which looked quite tragic. The mood lightened and laughter ensued, Zoey, doing her best to push the doom and gloom aside to enjoy her last night in Italy. She could worry about the inevitable grief tomorrow.

It wasn’t long before everyone was back to their goofy, crazy selves. Zoey, Andy, Rory, and Nancy had gotten tipsy off of the wine and kept feeding more alcohol to Katie, who was a very giggly drunk. Harry had gotten a little buzz going, but wouldn’t have too much to drink as he was their ride home, mostly chatting with the owner of the vineyard.

“I can’t believe I’m going home tomorrow, I don’t want to leave,” Katie settled from her laughing fit, “I wish I could see Gio one more time.”

“Why don’t you invite him over, then?” Andy suggested.

Nancy piped up, “We could all go swimming back at the house.”

Katie’s eyes lit up and she instantly took her phone out, tapping away on the screen. Zoey laughed, shaking her head, the room slowly spinning and a warmth engulfing her body. She wasn’t buzzed anymore, she was drunk. And she knew this was a tell-tale sign for her to stop drinking.

Nancy sat up front with Harry on the way back to the house, controlling the music while Zoey and Katie leaned on each other for support in the back, the glow from Katie’s phone illuminating the car as she texted Giovanni. By the time they had gotten back, Zoey was back to her slight buzz, feeling light and carefree. Everyone had changed into their bathing suits and met outback. She looked over at Harry who was sitting on a lounge chair beside Andy, the two of them talking with a lot of hand gestures. She concentrated on Harry’s fingers, remembering the feeling of them inside of her the night before while her friends were out here talking. She grinned to herself, walking over to the rest of the group who were all in the pool already, floating around.

Zoey sat at the edge of the pool, letting her legs dangle in the water, “Thanks for all of this, guys,” she said to them, smiling, “This had been the best week of my life.”

Nancy swam up, holding onto Zoey’s legs, “You deserve it. You’re a good friend. And roommate. We love you. Besides, you clean up after yourself and aren’t an absolute psychopath, so we appreciate it.”

The girl's laughter caught Harry’s attention and he turned just in time to see Zoey slipping into the pool. He watched, a grin forming, as the girls giggled, splashed, and aggressively hugged each other. Something about the sound of women laughing with genuine cheeriness brought him the greatest joy. It was up there along with a great piano tune, the sound of giggling babies, and the soft chirps of birds in the early morning hours. And to see Zoey immersing herself in the moment instead of wallowing in the house brought forth a pride in her that he hadn’t quite expected.

Andy cleared his throat, snapping Harry’s attention back to him only to see Andy’s eyes bounce from him to the girls, and back to him with a smirk, “They’re pretty cute, huh? Zoey seems to be having a lot of fun.”

It was just a question, but it sounded more accusatory than anything. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, searching Andy’s face. Did he know? He couldn’t have, right? Zoey wouldn’t have said anything. And he thought they were doing a good job at keeping it discreet. He shook it off and nodded, “Yeah, good. I’m glad.”

“He’s here!” Katie’s shriek echoed as she pulled herself out of the pool, wrapping a towel around herself as she darted towards the door.

Everyone laughed, amused by her eagerness to see the young Italian boy. His attention lingered on Zoey’s as the caught eyes, hers sparkling from the reflection of the moonlight against the water. She smiled at him, her expression softening and he could swear he felt his body melting into a puddle on the ground.

Deeper voices were heard behind him and he turned his attention to see Katie prancing back out, accompanied by not only Giovanni but his older brother, Marco. His eyes widened and his stomach twisted in knots at the sight of him, his mind instantly flashing back to the night he and Zoey had gone on a date together, imagining how they ended their night, his lip on hers. He felt the heat rise in him, frustrated and jealous. His attention darted back to Zoey. From the looks of it, she was just as surprised to see Marco as Harry was, which comforted him a bit, but not enough.

Everyone else seemed to be pleasantly surprised to see him, shouting his name and beckoning the two to join them in the pool. It didn’t take much convincing. Within seconds the brothers had stripped out of their clothes and dove into the pool, splashing around with the girls. Andy, following after.

Harry was the only one not swimming, and Zoey noticed. She swam to the edge, arms resting on the side as she stared at him. There it was, again. The spark that allowed him to read her mind. He knew what that look meant. She was telling him to stop being a baby and get in the water.

“Come on,” she mouthed, quietly waving him over.

He smiled, rolling his eyes before giving in. With a running start, he bound towards the pool, jumping over her head and bringing his legs to his chest, colliding with the water in a cannonball that earned screams and cheers from the group. Harry swam towards Zoey before she got the chance to rejoin everyone, wiping the water from his eyes and shaking his hair. He could barely reach the floor of the pool on his tippy toes, though she had to paddle to keep afloat.

“I better not see any flirting,” he warned, seductively. His tone was lighthearted, but she could sense the seriousness behind it.

She smirked, raising an eyebrow, “With you, or with Marco?”

Zoey winked, turning to start swimming away, but he grabbed her waist, pulling her back to him and whispering in her ear, “Careful. There’s a minimal amount of fabric between you and that beautiful cunt of yours. Don’t forget, I know where your sweet spot is and how to be discreet.”

He made sure that no one was looking before quickly sucking the nape of her neck with a hard kiss and lightly pushing her forward towards the rest of their friends. Her heart raced, tingling at the pit of her stomach, so turned on that she became flustered when Nancy tried to include him in their conversation. Harry shot her a quick wink at the sight.

She did her best to make her intentions obvious with Marco, having a friendly conversation, but keeping a certain amount of distance between them so that there was no misunderstanding, and partially because she wanted to show Harry that her feelings lay with him, and no one else. She hoped he understood. But she worried that he didn’t.

She noticed that he would tense up and become nervous whenever she touched him in a way that could be misconstrued. Even though it was something they did before the got entangled in this web of sex and attraction, he would worry that his friends could see right through them and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to have that discussion with his friends right now. He was still coming to terms with the fact that he might lose his best friend if this all ended badly, along with grappling at the fact that the girl he cared for would be going back home tomorrow to spend time with her ex-boyfriend whom she still professed love for.

He had to admit, though, he appreciated the way she handled the boundaries with Marco, never making Harry feel uncomfortable or uncertain. The night carried on for a while, everyone having dried off and gone inside for a movie which mostly everyone fell asleep during. Including himself. It was unexpected, and a part of him was angry that he didn’t spend the last night at least cuddling with Zoey in the privacy of one of their bedrooms. Instead, Zoey fell asleep, curled into a ball in between Rory and Andy who all shared a blanket.

The Italian boys had apparently left at some point in the night, and when the phone alarms sounded, the sun wasn’t even up yet. They had barely gotten four hours of sleep, but their flight was super early in the morning and they needed to take showers and do one more once-over of the house to make sure they had everything packed and ready to go.

Even though his flight wasn’t for a few hours after theirs, he still decided to take them to the airport. Zoey had printed off her new boarding passes and, with the help of Harry, they bustled through baggage check-in and security. However, both gates were at different ends of the airport. With the guise that he promised the sisters’ parents that he would make sure they were okay after boarding the plane, he said goodbye to Nancy, Rory, and Andy and led Katie and Zoey towards their gate, waving at fans as he passed them and taking them to the closest VIP lounge to get more privacy.

There were a few others in the lounge area, including two girls and a boy about his age that he noticed kept occasionally looking over, so Harry made sure to keep a reasonable amount of distance between him and Zoey, listening to the girls talk about how much fun they had this week and their dreams for future vacations, Harry inputting his two cents on the conversation. But the conversation was doing little to distract him as he overheard the broadcast announcing their call for boarding shortly.

He frowned, seeing the two sisters gather their carry-on items, unable to hide his displeasure. Saying goodbye to Zoey got harder and harder each time they separated. And the not knowing when he would see her again made it even worse. Sure, he had a lot to do, but he wanted nothing more than to spend a few more days with her, afraid that once she got on that plane all of this would be over. Would she want anything to do with him when she got home? And a part of him, a small part, was scared that she’d see her ex and realize she was still in love with him. Trauma tended to bring people closer together, and as selfish as it sounded, he worried.

“Thanks, Harry! You’re the best!” Katie grinned, leaping into his arms and hugging him.

He laughed, squeezing her tighter and rustling her hair. He had really grown to like Katie and thought of her as a little sister, “Glad you could come. Tell your parents I said thank you for trusting me.”

“Will do,” she pulled away.

His attention turned to Zoey and they looked at each other, glumness embedded in their gaze before they both wrapped their arms around each other. He pulled her in close, taking a deep breath of her sweet and warm scent, feeling the warmth of her body on his. He felt an emptiness form in his chest, sadness beginning to take over. He didn’t want to let her go. He had half a mind to go with her, but he knew he couldn’t. He didn’t care who was looking at that point, he kissed her cheek, lingering for longer than what was typical. It could easily have been reasoned as a friendly kiss goodbye. But they both knew it was more.

“Good luck,” he whispered as he finally pulled away, “Let me know when you land and give my condolences to Michael and Paul.”

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes, “I will.”

KEEP READING

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Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish , @stilljosiegrossie , @odetostep , @apples2019 , @stylesmioamore , @inyourhaven

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bearsfakedthemoonlanding · 4 years

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Gender Queer: There’s a Few Memories that Stick to me that I’m Sure Don’t Mean Anything to Anyone Else

[Content warning: mild transphobia, drunk driving mention, mild homophobia, mentions of abusive relationship, F-slur used for self (second to last paragraph)]

I’m sixteen years old, sitting on the kitchen table while my mom tuts around in the kitchen. I haven’t come out yet, but I have cut my hair off. Julie Andrews pixie that my mom tried to fix, but it was too short to turn out anything but boyish. I think it’s starting to grow out, get a little shaggy. I didn’t have any idea how hair gel worked at that age. I was wearing baggy jeans and chucks and a green t-shirt that said “Meddle Not In The Affairs Of Dragons, For You Are Crunchy And Taste Good With Ketchup.” My favorite uncle got it for me. Mom is staring at me for a long time, and I finally turn to look at her and ask, what? what’s up? She doesn’t want to tell me, says I don’t want to know. I insist. She finally sighs and says, “Well, I was just looking at you, and for a moment I felt like I was looking at the son I could have had. That’s strange, right? I’m sorry.” She thought I’d be upset, like I didn’t know what I was doing, and while I felt bizarre it wasn’t because I was sad. It was because I was happy. She looked at me and saw a son, saw a boy, and something about that felt so right that I felt guilty. I shouldn’t have wanted it. I didn’t change anything, though.

Twenty-two years old. Work got out at seven-thirty, and I drove the hour and a half to a different time zone to the only gay bar within driving distance. Jackie’s in South bend. Or Vickie’s maybe. It’s dark, and I’m in a pick up truck and a black t-shirt. The city can be dangerous in certain areas and I’m anxious about everything I’m doing. Gay bars are different here than they are in Vegas. Still, I bolster myself up and go inside, walk with wide shoulders and heavy boots, trying to feel brave to be taken seriously.

It’s empty. The bartender is a gorgeous person with long hair and lipstick and rough hands. They laugh when I order a Seagram’s but oblige, and I torture myself trying to find a polite way to tell them how pretty they are. My not-yet-girlfriend texts me and tells me not to be such a baby, to have fun. I want to go home.

Then two people walk in, a man and a woman both shorter than I am, and they pass around a plate of vegan fudge that I’m dumb enough to eat even though it could easily be laced with something. I’m a disaster with weed, each and every time. I got lucky. The boy sits next to me with the girl on his other side, and she leans around him to flirt with me, hand on me knee and shoulder and neck, and he sits there and smirks at me. It’s not predatory. He doesn’t look at me the way I’m used to men looking at me, like I’m something pretty and easy and delicate. We arm wrestle. He leans his head on my shoulder. I feel like a man.

They dance with me, two more Seagrams and I’m no longer self-conscious, though I am blushing. She drags me around by the belt loops. He lets me put my hands on his sides. She pushes me against a wall, and kisses me neck, and he places a hand on my chest over my binder and seems happy to find it, which is not a response I’ve ever had before.

They tell me I’m the best of both worlds, half-way between a man and a woman, and that they’re bisexual and best friends and looking for someone to play with. I play for a while, safe there in the public eye and probably pissing off the regulars there for a quiet night. I tap out after four or five drinks and drive myself home, a little drunk, very unsafe, but absolutely glowing.

I’m eighteen years old, and in less than 24 hours I’ll be admitted to the hospital and put on a ventilator for pneumonia-- so obviously this memory is hazy. I’d gotten up at six that morning to get work done before school, I’d struggled through school, and I’d stopped at a gas station before work. There, I bought two doses of Dayquil, a coke, and a five hour energy. I slammed it all and clocked in to the job that I hated. It payed $6 an hour and was hardly enough to put gas in the beater truck I drove around everywhere.

I’m going through the racks, bending down to pick clothes up off the floor and rehang them. Goodwill was my personal nightmare. Every time I leaned over, my head spun and vision danced with black, and my heart would pound and skip so hard I was half-convinced I was dying.

Someone’s sweet little grandma drops something in front of me, and I stoop down to pick it up for her. She says, “Oh what a sweet young man!”

And the friend she’s with, another darling grandma, says, “No, no, that’s a girl.”

“It’s a boy.”

“It’s a girl.”

They argue back and forth, and I’m too dizzy and nauseous to be an active part of the conversation. I remember standing there doing my best to keep the floor from rocking underneath me while also glowing in adoration. I was wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt under my smock, and my baggy navy blue school trousers. I was an enigma, and I was overjoyed.

After work I would go back to school for play rehearsal-- my part was small, unimportant, a Pick a Little Lady in the Music Man-- so I spent most of the evening on the floor between seats listening to my friends talk. I would get so tired, head spinning and heavy and eyes burning, that I would have to lay down. Every time I was horizontal, my chest would heavy and coughs from the bottom of my gut would overwhelm me enough to have me right back up and doubling over. Eventually, someone dragged me up to our director, who sent me home. I insisted I could drive. I don’t remember anything between talking to her and being at the doctor’s office the next morning, suffocating behind a face mask and half-collapsed in the waiting room.

He was terrible. Sneaky, passive-aggressive, physically aggressive. He was rude to waiters and condescending. God only knows how I was stupid enough to waste so much time on him, let alone give him any power over me. It started with a loss of virginity, when he offered blatantly and my dumb-ass brain told me “it’s now or never.”

It was terrible. Should have known from that first night, when I went over to watch movies wearing sweatpants (men’s section), boxer briefs, and a pull over sweatshirt (hers). He said, “you really dress like this, huh?” He’d only ever seen me in workout clothes at our college sport club.

The thing about bad men is that it doesn’t matter what your gender is, if you have a vagina that’s all they see you as.

We were out on a date a few months in, bowling at a casino after grabbing dinner. He’d said to dress up, so I put on my nice black jeans and a button up shirt. He was disappointed. We argued over who got to pay the bill. I won, and he snapped something about how he didn’t have to waste his money at least.

We went bowling. Every bowling date I’ve gone on with men (3) have been absolute train wrecks in totally opposite ways. This time, we spend the night at odds with each other, as he takes it all seriously and tries to give me pointers, and I do trick shots-- sliding on my knees and bowling belly-down on the floor and spinning around with my eyes closed. He thinks I’m ridiculous, but I’m having fun.

We’re walking back, and he pulls his hand out of mine and sticks it in his pocket. He says “We look like homosexuals,” and I’m baffled, because at 20 years old I might be butch but I’m still a girl. He says, “You walk like a man, and why are you dressed like that?” He tells me I ought to grow my hair out, or at least put some makeup on. He asks, “Do you ever wear dresses?” Asks me to try and put in an effort.

I bought a dress a few months later, and I showed it to him. He frowned.

When I look in the mirror in a dress, I see nothing but a boy in a dress. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but when you’re not thinking of yourself as a boy it feels rather disheartening. I had some weird hope that the dress itself would transform me into a woman. I think he did too.

I didn’t wear that dress again until my twenty-first birthday celebration with my uncle. He came in from out of town to waste money on a elaborate, drunken celebration. He has money to waste like that. I dragged one of my friends along, my roommate since sophomore year, and it was the most drunk I had ever been and she was a sweetheart about holding my hand and leading me around and adjusting my dress every time the straps slipped down or I spread my legs too far. Nothing makes me feel like a fag quite as much as wearing a dress. I still don’t know how to feel about that.

In a way, I’m glad that he never saw me as “pretty.” I’m glad I managed to be such a disappointment, and to crawl my way out of it with my life in tact and his pride rather bruised. He deserved nothing less, but his gross comment-- his confusion, disgust-- still makes me grin when I think about it.

I’ve taken so much joy throughout the years in other people’s confusion about me. At nineteen I used to proudly say that my gender was “confusion.” To be fair, I am rather confused by it. So are other people. And in its own way, isn’t that rather wonderful?

#honorable mention i'm 15 and tell my boyfriend i'm going to try jacking off #he says girls can't call it that #and i tell him girls and boys are the same thing anyways #and how does he know i don't have a penis #dating men has been a very interesting experience #especially since every one of them expected me to be a girl #sorry boys #trans masc #trans masculine #trans boy #transgender #trans #lgbt #queer #nonbinary #memories

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hystericalweenie · 4 years

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Just Another Day at the Office Series - New On the Job

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part Four: The Misunderstanding

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n was job searching, looking for a new place to work as an escape to her, then, current job; she’d been denied every pitch she had, yet she worked her ass off with zero recognition. Writing was her passion and her dream job laid in the hands of a magazine company in the city. Will the combination of her sexual frustration and her competitive nature cause her to risk her biggest dream for a blue eyed coworker?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! Sorry this is so late, I spent so much time on this part and I wanted it to be as perfect as possible.

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s some sexual! tension! up! in! here! There’s some SMUT up in here y’all and mention of fem!masturbation.

I woke up hyperventilating and sweating; my hair was soaked, sticking to the nape of my neck and my pajamas were clinging to my skin. Bree knocked on my door, before slowly opening it. Her eyebrows furrowed at the state I was in, as she leant against the door frame and crossed her arms.

“Did you just masturbate?”

My eyes widened at the blunt question, though due to how sweaty and distraught I looked, I wasn’t surprised...her assumption wasn’t completely wrong though.

“I think I just,” I began, still breathing heavily. “I think I just orgasmed in my sleep.”

She looked at me with her intelligent hazel eyes and I knew exactly what she was going to say.

“Did you have a wet dream about George?”

I did. I had the most visual, raunchy wet dream one could have. It was full of noises, noises from him, and it felt so real. I looked at her with guilty eyes, silently answering her question.

“God, Y/n, you need to fuck this man already!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Even your subconscious is fantasizing about his dick!”

My cheeks flushed in embarrassment, as I rubbed my eyes in distress.

“We’ve only known each other for a week, Bree,” I complained, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Well, two nights ago I fucked a guy that I only knew for two hours,” she chided, a playful smirk on her lips.

I rolled my eyes at her, as she began to twirl a piece of her blond hair between her fingers.

“I don’t do one night stands, you know that,” I insisted.

She groaned, exiting my bedroom.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it!” she called. “And take a damn shower!”

I took her advice and hopped into the shower, noticing that it was still fairly early and I had many hours before I’d have to be at George’s.

George.

My mind wandered to my dream, and I couldn’t stop myself from rubbing my thighs together at the sudden discomfort between my legs. As I started the shower, the squeak of the nozzle reminded me of my moans in the dream. I shook my head, trying to focus on the water as I undressed myself and hopped in. I squeezed some shampoo into my hand and lathered it onto my head, using my fingers to massage my scalp.

He tangled his fingers into my hair and pulled it back, forming a makeshift ponytail as he drilled into me from behind.

I lathered the soap onto my washcloth and rubbed it onto my body.

His hands travelled down my back before resting on my hips, his nails digging into my skin, guiding me, as I rode him.

I leant against the shower wall as I bent down to shave my legs.

He pinned me against his bedroom wall, pounding into me while he held me up, my legs weak and quivering as his dick brushed the pleasure spot inside of me.

I brought the razor to my heat, careful as I strategically shaved.

I screamed in pleasure as his tongue lapped at my clit, two fingers pumping into me, my fingers tangling in his hair.

I couldn’t stop myself from masturbating at this point, hoping that the shower running would be enough noise to cover up my actions. As I hopelessly pumped my fingers inside of me, imagining that George had been performing this on me instead, my jaw went slack and my breathing hitched as I hit my climax quickly. I rode out my high, collapsing on the tub floor before turning the water off. I forced myself up and dried myself off, making sure to towel myself off down there after the mess I’d just made. I wrapped both my hair and my body into towels and exited the bathroom, my legs weak and sore as I walked.

I slipped a pair of leggings and a big hoodie onto myself, towel drying my hair and entering the kitchen. I gathered my sheets and tossed them in the washer machine, not wanting to sleep on the sheets I’d sweat through. Bree sat on one of the kitchen chairs, her knees pulled up to her chest, as her eyes ran down the page of Essence, which I’d subscribed to as a way of showing my own personal appreciation for the brand. I sighed at the smell of coffee, happily walking over to the freshly brewed pot in the kitchen. I got my favorite mug from one of the cabinets and poured myself some of the morning bliss, before adding cream and sugar. I took a seat next to her, holding the mug to my mouth as I blew on the steaming liquid in hopes of it cooling down.

“Have you gotten to write any articles yet?” she queried, bringing her own mug to her lips.

I shook my head. “No, but I get to start pitching ideas this week.”

She looked away from the magazine and faced me.

“Have you thought of anything yet?”

“No,” I groaned, bringing my palms to my face in distress.

With everything that had been happening with George, I’d completely forgotten about the pitch.

“Hmm..” Bree hummed, eyes looking up in thought.

My phone vibrated on the small wooden table next to my mug. I picked it up, my lips curling as soon as I saw that the notification was from George.

George: *insert red wine emoticon*

Me: You can’t just send the emoji?

George: Don’t have ‘em, love.

George: I’m an old man.

Me: You must be very wise then.

Me: What was the prohibition like?

George: It was tough, but it was a good lesson for the Americans. It would’ve come in handy two nights ago, huh?

Me: STILL never going to let that down?

George: Never.

“What are you giggling about?”

She snatched my phone before I could respond, scrolling through the messages, her mouth forming an “o”.

“Give it back,” I nagged, reaching out for the device while she pushed my arm away.

“He’s so flirting with you,” she observed, finally returning the phone back to my hands.

“How can you be so sure?” I asked, reading through his messages again, as if I had missed something.

“He calls you ‘love’!” she brought her mug to her lips before setting it back down. “And, he always starts the conversation, which obviously means he wants to talk to you!”

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to consider her thoughts just yet. I didn't want to catch feeling for George this early, especially when I barely knew him, hell, I knew his best friend’s personality better than his. Besides, I didn’t want to get my hopes up in case he’d end up being an asshole; I wasn’t prepared to get heartbroken again like my last serious relationship.

“Let’s change the subject,” I suggested, taking a big gulp of my coffee and pushing my phone further away from us on the table.

“Fine,” she agreed. “I got sick this morning from taking Plan B, and my boobs feel like tender melons right now.” She looked down at her chest, cupping her breasts over her t-shirt and groaning in pain.

“Wear a condom, next time,” I reminded her.

She rolled her eyes.

“We were drunk, neither of us remembered whether we used a condom or not,” she admitted, closing the magazine and tossing it across the table.

I finished off my coffee, before my stomach began growling, reminding me that I hadn’t had any breakfast yet.

“Want to go get some bagels at the cafe across the street?” I offered, staring back at her frown.

“No, thanks, I still feel nauseous as fuck.” She brought her hands to her stomach, pouting her lips.

The rest of the morning and afternoon, I’d ended up getting her soup and we spent hours cuddling on the sofa whilst watching all of the movies that’d sat on our Netflix list, unwatched. When three o'clock rolled around, I began getting ready.

Similar to the outfit I wore to the bar, I dressed in a pair of jeans and a top that revealed just enough cleavage. I didn’t do anything to my hair, but I didn’t stop myself from applying some makeup. After perfecting my appearance and asking my roommate about a hundred times, “are you sure I look okay?” I was ready to head out.

3:46 pm, Me: What’s your address?

I sat on the sofa impatiently as I waited for his response. As a few minutes passed by, I started tapping my foot.

“Relax,” Bree reminded me.

Her eyes looked concerned, as she observed my impatience. I nodded, taking a few deep breaths, and focusing on the television. As four o'clock rolled around, I began to get nervous. What if he’d forgotten about our plans? I brushed that thought off, remembering his texts from earlier that day, so that couldn’t have been true. I wondered if he was getting ready, or maybe he just didn't have his phone on him. Curse my tendency to overthink.

As more time passed, I could feel Bree’s worried eyes on me. I tried to distract myself with the television, but I could practically hear a mental clock ticking and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Should I text him again?” I blurted out.

She looked at me, chewing on her lip.

“Make sure your text delivered, first,” she suggested.

“It did,” I barked, a little too aggressively.

Her bushy eyebrows furrowed as she observed my frustrated, impatient state. I looked at her apologetically.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

She scooted closer to me, rubbing my back sympathetically.

“George doesn't seem like the kind of guy to stand a woman up,” she reassured me. “He doesn’t even have emojis! I’m sure he just hasn't checked his phone.”

“You’re right,” I agreed, the tension in my body relaxing slightly at her words.

My phone vibrated, causing me to jump and immediately check the notification.

4:32 pm, George: Something came up. I can’t do tonight anymore. Sorry.

My heart sank to my stomach at the words, my lips parting in shock. In confusion to my reaction, Bree leant over to read the message over my shoulder. Her hand immediately returned to my back; even she wasn't sure what to say. I felt hollow for a moment, before shutting the device off and tossing it onto the small coffee table in front of the sofa.

“I don’t know why I’m so upset right now,” I admitted, blinking back the tears that threatened to escape. “I don’t know how I expected this to go.”

Bree sighed, her arm wrapping around me and pulling me into her.

“Honey,” she cooed. “You liked him, it’s okay to admit it.”

Did I like him? Even if I did, what was the point of coming to terms with it now?

“I don't like him,” I lied. “I’m just upset that he stood me up.”

Bree knew I was lying, so she didn’t say anything. I pulled myself off of her and changed out of my clothes, back into my leggings and hoodie. I wiped the makeup off, realizing there was no point in looking presentable. I made my way into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of red wine and opened up my laptop; I decided that if the universe gave me this extra time, I’d better make the best of it. I signed into my documents and began scrolling through some articles, though this time, trying to find inspiration for pitches.

As I sipped on my red wine and typed away, I was coming up with some ideas left and right. Why you and your roommate might not be getting along (Hint: you guys don’t have compatible signs) - I could use my own experience with my roommate, and astrology being a well-liked subject in Essence articles, this gave me a good chance at wooing Connie over. Are vinyls worth buying? Aesthetic vs Reality - I could use a popular trend to my advantage whilst giving the readers my own advice. Trying CBD oil for my anxiety - I could conduct a classic journalist experiment, while touching on anxiety and trying a trend.

With so many pros, I decided to stick with the CBD oil experiment as my pitch, but I had my two backups if Connie were to dislike it. Proud of my use of time, I closed my laptop and applied a calming face mask in preparation for the next day. I brought my glass of red wine to my bedroom, as I laid in bed on my phone with the face mask on my face. I scrolled through my socials, noticing that Dean had requested me on Facebook. Well, if George won’t work out... I accepted his request, before scrolling through his own page.

Inevitably, there were photos of him and George, posing with some other guy, whom was unfamiliar, on his page. There were pictures of them at bars, going hiking, and cooking. I closed the app, pretending that I didn't feel butterflies when I saw George’s smile in the photos.

I distracted myself with some reruns of Friends that night, before making my bed with my newly clean sheets, which would guarantee a good night’s sleep. With a definitely-not-regular dose of melatonin, I was finally forced asleep.

Buzz buzz.

I tossed and turned.

Buzz buzz.

Probably a Twitter notification.

Buzz buzz.

I groaned, rubbing my eyes and picking up my phone.

2 missed calls from George.

12:43 am, George: Are you awake?

1:02 am, George: I need to see you right now.

1:13 am, George: If you’re seeing this, I’m at your apartment building. Can you please come let me in?

What the fuck?! I quickly sprung up from my bed with my phone in my hand. Bree, if I get kidnapped tonight, you better come fucking save me. I slipped my feet into the first pair of shoes I could find, thankfully being my slippers, before grabbing my keys and sprinting out the door.

I ran down the stairs so quickly without any fear that I’d fall and break something, because all I wanted to know was if George was okay; my feet were barely touching the steps as I raced down them at such a quick pace. Once I finally reached the entrance to the building, I pushed the doors open with everything in me, the cold air immediately causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I looked around helplessly, trying to find this damn man.

There he was.

He sat on the sidewalk, head faced down, but I knew that hair anywhere. I slowly walked toward him, as his figure became much clearer. I could begin to make out his outfit, which consisted of a black short-sleeved shirt and jeans. I could tell by the fact that he wasn’t wearing a jacket meant that he hadn’t planned on being outside, due to the cold temperature. His hair looked disheveled, not falling into its usual perfect waves. His face was buried in the palms of his hands, the veins from the backs of his hands traveling up to his arms; I remembered noticing that feature when he’d driven me home.

I took a seat beside him, subconsciously putting my hand onto his back and rubbing wide circles. I watched him, waiting for him to release his face from his hands. After a few minutes of silence, just sitting in New York noise, he brought his face from his hands and turned to me, revealing a bruised eye, a bloody nose, and a split lip. I brought my hand to my mouth in shock, as my eyes examined the wounds on his face. He stared at me with eyes that looked scared–this terrified me.

I grabbed his hand, suddenly noticing that his knuckles were bruised. I looked at him with worried eyes, before standing up and leading him into the building. We walked up the stairs in silence, the only noises being my own thoughts that were somehow louder than the echoes of our footsteps. Once we’d finally made it to my door, I opened it quietly, careful not to awaken my roommate. I turned the lights on, as I then led him to the small bathroom. I patted the toilet seat cover, gesturing for him to sit down. He silently sat down, as I opened the medicine cabinet above the sink and scavenged for disinfectants and bandages. Once I’d gotten all the necessary materials out, I aligned them on the sink and started with some hydrogen peroxide. I applied the liquid to a cotton swab, carefully dabbing at the cut on his lip.

After cleaning that up, I grabbed a washcloth from the closet and ran it under the faucet, soaking it in warm water. I rung it out, before carefully wiping the dry blood underneath and around his nose. As I strategically tended to his wounds, I could feel his stare on me, watching as I took care of him.

“Thank you,” he professed, his voice raspy and dry.

“Just returning the favor,” I looked down at him, referring to the night he’d taken care of me.

There was silence after I’d spoken. Maybe he believed me, that I was only taking care of him because I had owed him a favor.

“I got into a fight,” he admitted, his accent even more accentuated with the combination of the raspiness.

I chewed on my lip, trying to focus on cleaning his face.

“I can tell,” I stated, keeping my eyes on his wounds.

“I don’t usually get into fights,” he elaborated.

I dropped the washcloth onto the sink, returning my attention to the conversation.

“Then, what sparked this?”

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair, reminding me of his bruised knuckles. I carefully picked up his hand after drenching more cotton swabs with the hydrogen peroxide, and meticulously cleaned the small cuts.

“My friend, Andrew. He’s Dean’s roommate, he uhm,” he began, stuttering. “He had an overdose today, at approximately three. Dean called me and I drove to the hospital as quickly as I could.”

I wondered if Andrew was the unfamiliar face I’d seen in the Facebook photos on Dean’s profile earlier.

“He was out, cold for a little while. They weren’t sure he was going to make it,” he confessed, eyes starting to tear up. “Dean and I were in the waiting room for hours, just waiting for anything. The doctor still wouldn’t let us see him, and that’s when I went mad. I punched the poor bloke, Dean had to fucking tackle me out of the hospital to calm down. Bloody bastard got a few hits on me, trying to get me off of the poor man,” he chuckled softly, pointing to his black eye.

I smiled a little, tossing the cotton swabs and looking down at him as he continued, giving him my full attention.

“Once they finally let us see him, we finally understood what they didn’t want us to see,” his voice cracked, and I could see the sadness in his eyes as he recalled the memory. “He wasn’t in his right mind, he hasn’t been in his right mind for a while, but it was different this time. It was really scary, Y/n.”

A tear rolled down his cheek, as his bottom lip trembled.

“I didn’t know what to do, we were both mortified,” he croaked.

I knelt down, bringing my hands to his cheeks, gently. My thumbs wiped at the tears that were spilling from his eyes. I hated seeing him like this, so vulnerable and broken.

“I’m here,” I assured him, staring into his blue eyes that looked deeper than a thundering, stormy ocean now.

He pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around me as he sobbed into the crook of my neck. I could feel my heart breaking in this moment. How could I have been so mad at him earlier? How could I have been so misunderstanding of the situation? My fingers tangled themselves in his hair as I attempted to soothe him.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered into my shoulder, his voice muffled.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” I reassured him softly, running my fingers down.

He pulled away, revealing his eyes puffy and red, his nose and lips swollen as well. I frowned, grabbing a new washcloth and wetting it with cold water this time, dabbing at his face, in attempt to calm the puffiness whilst wiping his face of tears.

“Do you want to sleep here tonight?” I asked, removing the washcloth from his face and setting it next to the other one I’d used.

He nodded silently, watching me as I cleaned up the mess I’d made. I put all the materials back into the cabinet, leaving the washcloths in the sink to deal with the next day. He stood up from the toilet seat cover, and followed me to my bedroom. I turned the lamp on beside my bed, as he entered the room slowly behind me.

“Do you have my uhm,” he began, his voice cracking.

“Yes!”

I knew exactly what he was going to say before it left his mouth; I quickly grabbed his sweater and joggers from my closet. I handed them to him, turning around to give him some privacy. As I heard the motion of him undressing, the reality set in that George was in my bedroom and I thanked the heavens above that I’d washed my sheets earlier that day.

“You can turn around.”

I did as he said, and I couldn’t stop myself from staring at him. It was nice, seeing him in the clothes that I, myself, had been wearing not too long ago; the fabric clung to his figure perfectly, contrasting to the oversized fit on my body.

“Do you need anything else?” I questioned sincerely.

He shook his head.

“Okay, I’ll be in the living room if you need anything,” I concluded, making my way out of the bedroom.

“Wait,” he objected.

I stopped in my tracks, turning to face him in confusion.

“C-can you uhm,” he stuttered, scratching the back of his neck. “Can you sleep with me?”

My eyes widened and I swore my jaw had almost dropped.

“If you don't want to, that’s fine–” he babbled, before I interrupted him.

“I don’t mind, George.”

I closed the bedroom door before climbing onto my mattress as he did the same. Given my smaller mattress, it gave us less individual room to lay comfortably. I ended up on my side, as close to the edge as possible in order to give him as much room on the mattress as possible.

“Do you have enough room?” I queried.

“Y/n, I have more than enough room. A-are you sure you’re comfortable with this? You’re about to fall off,” he observed, concerned.

“Y-yeah,” I began nervously. “I just wanted to make sure you had enough space.”

“I have plenty of space. You can come closer, if you want,” he offered.

I obliged, moving myself closer to him. We were both laying on our sides now, staring at one another.

“Are you okay?” I asked him, wanting to confirm one last time before I turned the lights off.

He nodded his head, cracking a small smile.

I leant over, turning the lamp off and returning to my position. I couldn't see anything, as my pupils adjusted to the sudden darkness in the room, but I could feel him right there.

“Goodnight, George,” I whispered to his unseen figure.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #x reader fic #fanfic #dean charles chapman #1917 #1917 cast

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year-of-yes · 4 years

Text

Rabbit Hole

There’s nothing that those of us with ADHD love more than falling down the rabbit hole of a new hobby. I’ve decided that my new rabbit hole will be vaginas. Queer vaginas.

I’ve been exploring my sexuality more thoroughly this year, prompted by quarantine and my last year of grad school, to really lean in.

I’m a serial monogamist and find myself with free time - my boyfriend is studying abroad for the next year - and we’ve decided to open up the relationship. Given that I’ve always been in relationships, or spent most of my pre-tinder years woefully sexually repressed, I’ve never just gone balls to the wall in terms of prioritizing MY sex life. For me. I’m a notorious people pleaser and just the thought of telling a guy on a first date that I was only interested in casual sex would have made my skin crawl 5 years ago.

But no more!

The first few months of my new found freedom have been a veritable smorgasbord of men WAY out of my league. Something about knowing I’m in an open relationship allows guys to relax and just have fun with intimacy. (Men are the worst.) Ive never been on smoozier dates, with nicer wine and hotter guys in my life. Should I ever become single again, I will probably just continue to pretend to have a boyfriend, because DAMN. I’ve started keeping an album in my phone of their tinder profile pics just so when I’m old I can look back and remind myself that yeah, I FUCKED.

Part of this new exploration has been coming to terms with the fact that yes I like women, and yes, I’m not attracted to ALL women, and yes I have mostly hooked up with guys but YEAH, I was definitely bisexual. And that I should stop being afraid and just DO IT.

But like any baby dyke on her first foray into the unknown, I was like a traveler with a brand new passport leaving the country for the first time, blinking out of an airport to realize that I didn’t speak the language, and oh yeah, I was dressed like a tourist.

Despite the wisdom in taking things slow, my ADHD impulsivity had taken over and like any good hobby worth hyper focusing on, I was determined that I would learn by DOING. I wanted to have sex with women. Now, preferably.

I thought hooking up with a woman for the first time would be as easy as matching with someone hot on tinder - after all, thats all it really took with guys. I casually started following more queer women on instagram, tiktok and twitter, paying attention to what I could learn, assured that on any given day, I’d run into someone at the grocery store or match with a babe on tinder who would sweep me off my feet. Because now I was ACTIVELY looking at women! Not passively checking them out!

WRONG. After months of falling for dozens of matches who never messaged me, or conversations that never led to plans, or plans that fizzled out, I pulled on my big girl pants and decided that I was going to be a woman of action and get.myself.on.a.date. I’m hot goddamn it! I was going to MAKE SURE they knew I wasn’t just another straight girl bored on an app. I WANTED TO EAT PUSSY.

it might be time to introduce that in addition to my very noticeable ADHD, I also have much less noticeable autism. All that business about girls presenting differently than boys means that others rarely pick up on it - and I don’t feel the need to mention it unless I think it will impact our relationship, like with a friend or coworker. I’ve learned that mentioning it on dates doesn’t really make things easier, but thanks to years masking, I can pull off a first date no sweat. Continuing on to dates 2 and 3 can be trickier, but I’ve learned how to navigate those waters with men who, suffice to say, are rarely intuitive enough to pick up on anything. In fact, I would venture a guess that most people on a date with me consider me very extroverted. Nevermind that I’m too mentally exhausted to leave my room the day after a date. I talk a lot, occasionally too much. I often look bored or bitchy because resting autistic face is more exhausting to change than resting bitch face, so I make up for it by being overly chatty when we hit on any of my special interests.

I have NO idea how this will translate on a date with a woman. My instinct is to say that I am overthinking and likely it will feel like any other date, but then I’ve always found women harder to read than men, and found it harder to see how they read me. I was also terrified that flirting would feel different - what if I was giving off a friendly vibe, not an I-want-to-fuck vibe? Is it typical for women to fuck on a first date? Should I touch her to let her know I was into her? Or did the fact that I had gotten all the way from a swipe right on tinder to an actual date suffice in itself to let her know? These might not be the sorts of questions a non-anxious neurotypical person might ask themselves, but they are the questions that I had slowly built up an arsenal of information for over the last 14 years in my interactions with men - information that was no longer applicable. So I set about seeking out this information in a way familiar to most autistics learning information that came naturally to others.

Google! I realized that I know very little about the actual gay scene despite having queer friends. How do lesbians flirt? How do you pick one up? What is considered too forward? And how in gods name did you eat pussy? Because goddamn it I intended to be good.

I had heard the term lesbian tiktok thrown around and decided to see what was what. Mostly I found videos of 20 year olds with flawless skin making lewd tongue movements that were supposed to be sexy. After probably 40 cumulative hours of trawling tiktok I realized I had a type: androgynous girls who were beautiful despite dressing down and not wearing a ton of makeup. Then I had a real heated soul search with myself. Was I attracted to them because I…wanted to be them? Liked the way they looked and dressed because I too aspired to cool androgyny? A few more days on tiktok and I put my guilt behind me: I definitely had a type and who gave a fuck if it was sort of self indulgent.

I also refused to go back to a time when I was bad at sex. I consider myself a solid sexual partner, keeping guys generally out of my league coming back for more. Thats because I refused to feel self conscience naked, was an excellent kisser, an active participant, vocal about my desires and (most important for men) my ~enthusiasm, and understood the power of delayed gratification.

I realized that while I could read articles about eating pussy all day long, it would ultimately come down to what the other girl was into. I’m a proficient masturbator and know what I like others to do to me - but I wasn’t yet accustomed to picking up on the cues that women give about what they liked. I resolved that the first time I was with a girl, I was going to lean in to the delayed gratification. Focus on kissing, touching, necks, ears, breasts, navels etc. so by the time I came face to face with a vagina it would be so wet I’d have my work cut out for me. In a little vagina shaped cake. Why not just ask them, you say?? Because! I’m extremely awkward and don’t want whoever she is to know that I’m woefully inexperienced. Fake. it. til. You. Make. it.

It was like being a horny teenager again: desperate for interaction but unsure how anything worked. I was googling phrases like “bisexual style” and “how to eat pussy without getting tired”. I read hours of r/actuallesbians, Tumblr posts and go magazine articles. Mostly I realized that I would be able to skirt through to some degree: I was a solid 6-7 on the attractiveness scale, willing to be aggressive and outgoing no matter how awkward it made me feel, with a roommate who could make sure I looked stylish and a can-do attitude.

Now all I had to do was find a girl I wanted to fuck, who wanted to fuck me too.

#bisexual #queer #baby dyke #girlswithadhd #girlswithautism

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basicallywhiterice · 5 years

Text

Night sky: Seo Changbin

Pairing: Seo Changbin x Reader

Genre: Friends to lovers

Warnings: Cursing

Word count: 5.2 k

Summary: Changbin’s eyes hold the night skies.

a/n: Happy birthday binnie! You’re my bias wrecker, but my very first fic is centered around you… the power that you hold… enjoy!

•••

The first word that comes to mind when I first see Seo Changbin sitting alone in my Tech classroom is dark: dark eyes, dark hair, dark clothes, and a dark aura.

That is, until he breaks into one of the brightest smiles I’ve ever seen. It isn’t necessarily big or overpowering, but it’s genuine and unashamed.

My second impression of him is that he’s the physical embodiment of the night sky. Dark upon first glance, but littered with stars and illuminated by a radiant moon.

After we exchanged greetings, I sat down next to him and struck a up conversation. I learned that he was double majoring in business and music, and in turn told him my major. We talked about our hometowns, our aspirations, and what we hoped to cross off our bucket lists by the end of the year. Before I knew it, the classroom was full and our professor was greeting our class.

Changbin seemed like someone who knew exactly what he was capable of and was authentic with everyone.

I liked him as a person already.

“By the way, Changbin, we’re friends now. Ok?”

“I’m more than ok with that, actually.”

Of course, becoming close friends with Changbin didn’t come easily. After I set the curve for the first Tech test, he accused me of only befriending him to raise my test scores. I told him that I studied for my score, and stormed out after aggressively congratulating him on his hard work studying (he had the 2nd-highest score.)

The day after that, when I was in a much more reasonable mood, I went to class early so I could apologize for lashing out once he arrived. He was already there, waiting with an apology of his own.

That was the day I realized that my first impressions of Seo Changbin were indeed correct, and that he was a friend worth keeping for a long, long time.

But right now? He’s dead to me.

He laughs at me as he scrolls through my camera roll and picks out unflattering pictures of me to send to himself. I was waiting for 3racha to finish their work so we could go out to dinner (I had been successfully integrated into Changbin’s friend group, and he into mine. We had surprisingly shared a mutual friend: Felix, one of my closest friends.) Changbin was the first one done, and, after waiting with me for a few minutes, had gotten bored and stolen my unlocked phone, causing my current predicament. After a few unsuccessful attempts to steal my phone back, I give up and fall against him with a whine.

“Relax, y/n. I don’t understand why I never knew about these beautiful-” he snorts, “pictures of yourself.” He pauses on one particularly embarrassing photo taken by Yeji, my close friend and roommate. In it, I’m blowing a kiss to the camera while eating a cupcake. I whine loudly and smack his shoulder a couple of times. When he ignores my sulking, I poke his side, causing him to poke my cheek in retaliation.

Thankfully, Jisung walks into the room, sparing me the embarrassment of looking at my candid pictures. He sighs. “What did he do this time?”

“He’s sending himself my embarrassing pictures,” I tell him. “This is cyberbullying.”

“Lemme see.” He snickers as he looks over Changbin’s shoulder. “Very photogenic, y/n. You should consider taking more pictures we can use as blackmail.”

This little shit. Scratch that, these 2 little shits.

I snatch Changbin’s phone and chase after Jisung, trying to take a few meme-worthy pictures of Jisung, but Chan finishes up and shoos us out of the music production building and into our cars. As I file into Changbin’s passenger seat (I walked here from class, so my car is still at my apartment), he hands my phone back with a cheeky grin.

“You know, Jisung was right. You really should take more pictures of yourself,” he states as he backs out of his parking spot.

“Why, so you guys can post them on my birthday to make fun of me?” I cross my arms exaggeratedly, then uncross them to grab his phone and spam his camera with random pictures of him driving.

“Well, that too.” He glances over briefly, and I get a perfect shot of him that captures his mischievously twinkling rich, dark chocolate-colored eyes and his satisfied smirk. My breath hitches, and I swear I can feel my heart beating in my throat. Changbin’s handsome and he knows it, no doubt about it. The words send me that pic later die on the tip of my tongue as he reaches over and ruffles my hair before continuing, “but also because I need more beautiful things on my phone.”

He goes back to driving, as if he hadn’t just indirectly called me beautiful. But I’ve seen the way girls swoon over his smile and ogle his arms. I’ve seen how many people his charms affect, whether he’s aware of it or not. And so the negative part of my brain reigns in my blooming affection for the boy sitting next to me before I can do anything stupid, forcing me not to dwell on my jumble of emotions. Instead, I ask him about his day, the tracks he’s working on, and the classes that I’m not in, and he tells me before asking about my professors. Just like good friends do.

(That night, I pretend I don’t notice or mind the beautiful, kind waitress flirting with him, and I pretend that I’m not relieved when he treats her politely and with kindness–nothing more, nothing less–like he does with everyone else, and I pretend that my heart wouldn’t break if he rejected my advancements like that, so why does Felix whisper in my ear that I’m in denial?)

•••

“Pick up, jeez!” I huff into my phone. After calling Changbin twice, he finally picks up on my third try.

“What.” I can hear Felix screaming something in the background about Changbin being soft (with some friendly trash talk), followed by my name being yelled.

“Y/n y/n y/n,” I hear Felix breathing into the phone. “Of course it’s you, no wonder Changbin didn’t have his resting bitch face on when he answered–mmph!” Seungmin cackles in the background with an affirmative shout of “I agree!”

“Hey Seungmin! Miss ya!” I giggle. “Hey Felix, how’s uh… what was her name again?” I pretend for forget the name of Felix’s crush. “Oh yeah–”

“Thank you, next!” I can hear Seungmin clowning him already, before Changbin (presumably) steals his phone back.

“So,” Changbin clears his throat, “did you need anything?”

“Hi y/n! How’s your day been going? We should probably work on our Tech project, don’t you think? Especially since we’re going with my idea of music production apps?” I imitate his voice. “None of that? Hmmm?”

“Hi y/n, how’s your day.” he states more than asks. “Also, I kind of forgot about that project?” When I stay silent, he adds, “That cafe two blocks from your English class in twenty minutes? I’ll bring two studio headphones.”

“You better. Also, do you mind giving me a ride?” I ask, chewing on my bottom lip. “I’m at the auto shop right now because my car is getting fixed.”

“Not at all. I’ll be there in ten.”

Twelve minutes later, when he pulls up, I greet him with a “you’re late.”

(”Hi Changbin! How was your day? It’s so good to see you! You make this lovely day even better!”

“I’m glad you’re smart enough to figure out the reason behind my lackluster greeting, Seo. Do you understand what it feels like to be ignored now?”

“…my bad.”)

•••

“Can I get a ride back to the auto shop, too?” I ask as we walk across the cafe’s parking lot.

“No, you can perish. I can’t believe you had the audacity to diss coffee.” Changbin shudders exaggeratedly recalling how I called coffee “gross” after he ordered his iced americano.

“You mean roast,” I grin as I shoot him with finger guns. When he fixes me with a look, I continue. “But I bought you one to pay you back for picking me up!” I protest, playing along with his banter.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t buy me one for dropping you off, too.”

“Meanie.” We stop when we reach his car.

“A meanie who was kind enough to at least give you a ride there.” As he unlocks his car and sinks into the driver’s seat, he smirks up at me. “See you tomorrow, y/n.”

I cross my arms in defeat. “See you, snake.” I pull my phone out and open the bus app to check the schedule, sighing when I look at him and absentmindedly waving once I realize he hasn’t closed his door yet. That’s when it registers in my mind that I’m waving with the hand holding my phone.

Changbin rolls his eyes at me when he sees what I’ve pulled up. “I was joking, jeez. You know, you really can be dumb sometimes. Get in, idiot.”

“Yet I’m still at the top of the class, am I right? And I’m up there with you, so what does that say about your intelligence?” I slide into the passenger seat. “And in my defense, you’re really cold-hearted, so I actually thought you’d make me get home on my own.”

“I’d never let you go home alone this late, dummy. You may be book smart sometimes, but I’m convinced that you only use one brain cell 80% of the time. You’re so dense.” He reaches across the car and flicks my forehead. I flick his right back. “Plus, you’re cute when you’re exasperated.”

“Uhh…” I articulate intelligently. Yup, my last brain cell just went on vacation. “Um, ah- if I didn’t know better, I’d call you a player,” I manage to sputter out.

My face heats up as the temperature in the car seems to drop a few degrees as I freeze, internally panicking. Sure, that was a past impression I had of him, but I know him better now.

Changbin freezes. “You really see me that way?” His voice is flat and steady–too flat and steady.

“No! I-I kinda thought that when I first met you, but I know you’re not like that. And you can’t be a player if you only have eyes for Soyeon, right?” I’m convinced that Soyeon, the charismatic, popular rapper in his music composition class, is the object of his affections.

“I don’t like Soyeon.”

“Smells like lies.”

“I don’t!”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.”

Changbin starts the car. Before he pulls out of the parking lot, he glances over at me.

“I’m not–you know. A player.”

That’s the very first time I see Changbin in such an open, vulnerable state. His openness usually comes with an air of you-can’t-hurt-me-I’m-invincible. Right now, though, he lets me look straight into the depths of his soul.

I’m the one to break eye contact.

“I know,” I nod.

But it would be easier to justify the effect you have on me if you were.

(“So… how was your cafe date with Changbin yesterday? Has he asked you out to dinner yet?” pesters Felix, leaning across the table at the library, wiggling his eyebrows at me. I open my mouth to protest, but Changbin joins us and playfully shoves his shoulder before settling his arm across my shoulders.

“I actually enjoyed it a lot,” he smirks, glancing down at me. “Now if you’d bug Hyunjin instead,” he points towards the entrance where Hyunjin is walking in, “we have a study date that I, at least, would prefer you didn’t intrude on.” He smiles at me again. I think I can see stars in his eyes.

I can’t contain my grin. Even though I know he means it as a joke, I like it. I like him.

So I play along.

“You’re late Changbin.” I reach up to squish his cheeks. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Felix fake a gag and leave. Changbin squeezes my side in a half hug, then sits down and scoots closer to me, taking out his textbooks and papers.

If one were to look at me and see stars swimming in my eyes, stars for him, make no mistake. This is no joke. This is real.)

•••

Over the course of the next month, I pine after Changbin. Hard. I swoon when he greets me with a hug, a smile, and an occasional drink from our cafe in the mornings, squishing my cheeks afterwards. (I always squish his back.) I swoon twice as hard if he jots down lyrics or his inner thoughts on his drink, something he’s been doing regularly. I fight the urge to blush whenever he makes a casual, flirty joke (especially when it’s in response to what I wrote on the pink sticky notes I attach to his drink whenever it’s my turn to grab drinks for us), opting to flirt back instead of feeling shy. My heart beats a little faster when I settle into his cuddly hugs, sometimes to the point where I’m afraid he’ll notice how quick it is. I have to bite back a lovestruck grin when he shares bits and pieces of himself with me, such as revealing random thoughts, telling me childhood stories, and letting me explore his soul, telling me anything and everything I’d like to know–that is, besides his current love life, denying that he has a crush on Soyeon every time I bring it up. (I’m slightly relieved.)

I’ve finally admitted my feelings for him. I don’t know when it happened, but somewhere along the line, I decided to let whatever happens happen. I think I do a pretty good job of hiding it? (Felix begs to differ, though.) But the thing is, I want to tell him. I just don’t want to lose him as a friend, and I can’t imagine my life without him as an integral part in it.

So, I keep my feelings inside every time he touches my arm, shoulder, or hand; every time he leans in close to whisper in my ear; every time he giggles his fricking adorable giggle and his eyes scrunch up. I keep them hidden until I don’t and I end up spilling my feelings to Felix.

Two hours later, after Felix is done gloating that he was “right all along”, interrogating me, and high-key shipping me, he drags me over to Changbin’s dorm and claims that “he wants to see who’s better at video games” between Changbin and me. Then he leaves once we start playing smash. (He ends up beating me four times before suggesting we go somewhere else to do something fun. I agree. Felix makes faces at me until we leave.)

Some time after that (with a little convincing from Felix–not too much though, the prick knows how to be a decent friend and not force me into anything–and Yeji, who gushed about how cute Changbin and I were for a solid hour after I told her about my feelings), I sit down and plan what to say during a confession after I text Changbin to meet me in our cafe at 5 o’clock sharp and that I have something to tell him. He responds with:

Sure

I wanna tell u something too

See u then

The thing is, my brain chooses the perfect moments to stop working. For example:

I am romantically attracted to you beyond the scope that friendship encompasses? What the heck? Where did that come from?

After giving up on planning (why would you not be spontaneous when you could be?), I tell myself to just relax, and go over the main points I want to make in my head. I trust myself to not make a complete fool out of myself while confessing. I think.

You know what? I’m relaxed. Cool as a cucumber.

I mean, come on! What could possibly go wrong?

•••

As soon as I step into the cafe and see Changbin’s expression change from unbothered to smiling when he notices me entering, my mouth goes dry.

“You’re early,” I greet.

He raises an eyebrow. “You are, too. That’s a first. Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

My eyes dart around, glancing at the menu, the fairy lights, the flower centerpiece in the middle of the table, all familiar things I had seen when we worked on our project and during our study sessions. I do a double take when my gaze lands on the small bouquet of flowers resting in his lap.

Of course he wanted to see me too. He needed a girl’s opinion delivering these flowers along with a speech about his feelings.

Wonderful. As if I wasn’t sure my heart was going to get broken already.

“So. I have something to tell you.” “I need to get something off my chest.” we say at the same time.

Smooth, me. That was real smooth.

“Please just let me get it out. I’ll help you with whatever confession advice about Soyeon you need, ok? I just… need to word vomit,” I let out a shaky breath. “Would you look at that, I’m doing it already! Great!”

Changbin stares at me. He opens his mouth and says, “I don’t have feelings for Soyeon. I don’t understand why you always insist that I do, but believe me, these flowers… they’re not for her.”

Ah, there my mind goes again. Racing with thoughts of who else it could be. I don’t want to think of him as a fuckboy, but really, who knows how many other people he’s given flowers to? Just when I was starting to think–no, hope–that maybe, maybe my one-sided pining wasn’t one-sided after all.

How many more people does he wrap his arms around, does he write random thoughts and lyrics for, does he walk to classes and events with, does he greet with a new cheesy pickup line on their hot chocolate with no whipped cream and marshmallows, does he say heart-stopping things so effortlessly such as “I don’t know what I would do without you in my life” while shooting his deadly, genuine smile? How many more people are there?

“Take your time, y/n,” Changbin chuckles good-naturedly, snapping me out of my internal monologue. “It must be important. I’m all ears.” He props his elbows up on the small table separating us, leaning his head into his hands and fixing a patient expression on me.

This adorable, tiny, unselfish ball of fluff. My heart nearly combusts and I lose control of my brain when I blurt out the words “I like you.”

I force myself to keep my eyes on his face, to see if his expression changes. It doesn’t, but I swear I can see his eyes darken a little and the wheels in his mind start to turn before coming to a complete stop. “We’re friends,” he replies slowly. “Unless you mean…”

“I am romantically attracted to you beyond the scope that friendship encompasses.” Seriously? Right now?

Changbin opens his mouth and closes it (I’m sure that my thesaurus vomit didn’t exactly help things). He’s wearing his trademark confused face, and as cute as it is, I can’t suppress the need to explain myself more. “I just wanted to let you know, and I hope that we can still be friends after this. There’s no pressure for you to like me back or anything. I totally understand. Just give me a few days to adjust, ok? Ok. Cool.”

“Wait, y/n-” “Haha, look at the time, I need to go, uh, do stuff. See you in class on Monday!” I nearly trip as I rush to stand up from my chair. I barely restrain myself from bolting to the door, and by the time Changbin opens the cafe door, I’m halfway across the parking lot.

My face burns as I peel out of the parking lot. My brain burns with the image of Changbin running towards me, arm extended, totally not kissable lips parted, calling my name.

•••

A good cry always makes things better.

Once I’m drained of tears, I melt into my bed with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s and my computer while pointedly ignoring my 50 unread messages from a certain person. As I search for friends-to-lovers stories and fics, I feel a new wave of frustration rising. Sure, mutual pining for your best friend is understandable. But what happens when you’re not best friends? What happens when he tries to brighten up everyone’s day? When will you get your happy ending if he’s just a thoroughly good person who only sees you as a friend?

My subconscious tells me that I’m being unfair, but I push selfless y/n to the back of my mind. I tell myself I’ll deal with this mess on Monday when I’m ready. Tonight, I’m just going to wallow in self-pity.

Until I hear a slightly muffled knock on my apartment door door.

And another.

“Y/n?” Changbin’s voice calls out.

Nononono crap not today not today oh mah Jesus -Mark Lee

“Please let me in?” He asks again, this time in a softer voice.

I respond by closing the door to my room.

“Y/n! I know you’re in there!” The knocking continues. I start blasting Day6 songs from my computer in an attempt to drown him out. It works, since his knocking and his words get muffled until they merely sound likewhite noise, but I get a flurry of notifications from my phone. I mute it and throw it across the room.

After a while, Changbin seems to give up and stops trying to get my attention. I pause my music.

I have no idea how long I sit on my bed, lost in my own bubble, reading my sorrows away, but I’m snapped out of my reverie and thrown back into reality with the sound of the front door opening. I hear my roommate say, “Wait here for a sec, let me talk to her first.” I hear a body settle on our couch.

The door to my room opens.

“Y/n? You ok?” Yeji takes in my puffy eyes, the mountain of tissues nearly bursting out of my trash can, the bundle of blankets I’ve arranged into something resembling a beanbag, and the tub of Ben and Jerry’s slowly melting away. She sighs sympathetically and offers me a hug.

After comforting me and asking if I wanted to talk to her (I told her I would explain things tomorrow), she asks me to talk to Changbin. I decline.

“Well, you know what’s best for you. I just hope that you’ll listen to what he has to say. He said something about crashing in our living room until you talk to him… but he won’t bother you until you’re ready to have a face-to-face conversation with him!” she immediately reassures me once she sees the look of panic and worry on my face. “If you feel comfortable enough, please talk to him soon. He seems really regretful.”

“Of course he is,” I mumble. “Of course he feels sorry after I tell him not to be.” A new flood of tears threatens to spill from my eyes. “What a prick; always caring about his friends.” The word tastes bitter in my mouth and I almost spit it out.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Yeji grabs a tissue and dabs away my tears. “Do you want me to kick his ass for you?” I shake my head. “Get my brother to kick his ass?”

That manages to get a laugh out of me. “No, don’t sic Hyunjin on him. Changbin didn’t do anything wrong. I feel a lot better now, and I don’t want to distract you from what you were doing before this; you don’t have to stay here if you have other things to do.”

“You’re sure you’re ok? I don’t have anything important to do.”

“Positive. Besides, I know your English paper is due in 2 days. You don’t have to lie. Really, thank you, Yeji. You truly are the mama bird of our friend group.”

“You’d do the same for me.” She stands up and heads towards the door. “Do you want me to put your ice cream in the fridge? Bring you some dinner? I’m planning on cooking with Changbin tonight.” I tell her no, she leaves after double checking I don’t need anything else, and I lock my door.

I feel as if I’m suffocating, as if Changbin’s presence is seeping through the walls into my room, as if it’s attempting to fuse with everything in this apartment so that I’m reminded of him everywhere I look.

I need to get out of here.

I hear Yeji and Changbin moving around in the kitchen, and I remember that no one in the kitchen can see our front door (that’s how Yeji sneaks up on me when I get home early and start preparing dinner before she gets back, and vice versa). If I time this correctly… I could sneak out until Changbin leaves!

Y/n, you’re a genius!

•••

After I slip outside, making sure the lock the door quietly, run to my car before they notice I’m gone, and decide to drive to the old-timey diner that Felix drags me to when I’m feeling down, I debate whether or not I still want to be alone for about 3 seconds before I call him. He picks up on the 4th ring. After he agrees to meet me there in 15, I tell him not to spread the word about my whereabouts.

“Chill, mate,” he drawls, and I swear I can hear his Fortnite game in the background. “It sounds like you’re trying to avoid someone. You didn’t kill anyone, did you?”

Ah, Felix. Sweet, oblivious, intuitive Felix. “Don’t worry. I’m only sticking to class 4 misdemeanors… for now,” I whisper the last part before hanging up, trying to scare him.

It doesn’t work.

“You have got to get better at lying, y/n,” he says as a form of greeting when he slides into the seat across from me in our booth. “You’d lose your straight-A average before you broke the law. Did you order yet?”

“Yup, just fries for now,” I nod just as our food gets set down on the table. “Tsk, tsk, you’re late. You said 15 minutes. It’s been 20.” An ache in my heart? What ache in my heart? I mean, who else would I call late?

He shoves a fry in his mouth with one hand while flapping his other. “Traffic. And uh, stuff. Switch seats with me,” he stands up abruptly. “I wanna look at the door instead of the restrooms.”

I’m taken aback at how random that was, but I take his seat anyways. “The doors to the restrooms are closed. Dramatic much?”

“Speaking of drama,” he pauses to shovel a large handful of fries down his throat and chew. I take this opportunity to peek at my phone, and my heart rate accelerates once I see the 73 unread messages from both Yeji and Changbin.

Crap, they found out. Ok, so maybe I wasn’t that inconspicuous… I think as I text Yeji that I’m feeling better, eating out, sorry for worrying her, and that I won’t do anything stupid. I try to ignore Changbin’s texts.

“Speaking of drama, what the hell happened?” Felix interrogates.

“What happened?” I feign ignorance.

He doesn’t buy it. “You’re at our diner, you called me here, and you haven’t touched your fries. The only thing you’re missing from this mope-fest is a milkshake.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to get one.” I try to escape from his sharp gaze, but he blocks me.

“I don’t want milkshakes, I want TEA. So spill it now.”

“I’m not sure I want to talk about it right now…”

“Does this have to do with your massive crush on Changbin?”

“Pfft, what?” My voice rises an octave at the end of my question. “I don’t like Changbin. You like Changbin.”

He ignores my blatant lies. “What happened? Did you embarrass yourself in front of him or something? Because I promise you, that boy is whipped. I’m pretty sure you could shove him off a cliff and he’d still like you.”

“No, Felix… I messed up. Like, big time.”

After I get done explaining what happened with Changbin, I can practically feel the judgement pouring off Felix in waves.

“I just-I just feel so stupid for thinking I had a chance. Like, he’s always so friendly to everyone and I can’t believe I thought that his actions meant something more. He obviously only saw me as a friend.”

“You’re wrong.” Felix stands up. “You’re wrong because he’s here right now and walking towards you.” He points behind me, and lo and behold, Changbin appears with a milkshake in each hand. Felix waves. “Adiós.”

And then I’m frozen and I can look everywhere except for at Changbin and I’m internally cursing my life.

•••

Changbin slides a milkshake across the table. “I’m sorry for not texting you anything or saying something when I went over to your dorm. I just… wanted to tell you in person. And make this special. Because–you’re special to me.”

I glance up at him, then divert my gaze to the milkshake. On the drink, he’s written a short poem.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

You said you like me,

And I like you, too.

Though our initial meeting

May have been up to fate,

Now that we’re here together,

Let me take you on a date?

“I like you too, y/n.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand–hesitantly at first, then laces our fingers together once I don’t show any signs of protest.

I stand up abruptly, pulling my hand away. Once he starts to look uncomfortable, I tackle him in a hug and bury my face into the crook of his neck. I can’t contain my grin.

“Took you long enough to realize, you cheesy songwriter.”

I pull back, and Changbin’s expression turns serious. “Be my girlfriend?”

“I would love to.”

“Well then, sweetheart,” he smiles. “Let me take you on that date?”

(As we walk out of the restaurant, he backhugs me and whispers into my ear. “The only reason I didn’t kiss you back there was because I didn’t want to bother the people in there.”

“How about now?”

He responds by leaning in and capturing my lips with his.)

•••

After our date, as Changbin and I share a kiss underneath the night sky, I can’t help but realize how incomplete my first impressions of him were. He’s much too complex to be characterized by the sky during just one time of day. Rather, he encompasses the qualities of the sky in general depending on his mood: sunny, rainy, partly cloudy, snowy, not-a-cloud-in-the-sky, displaying rainbows, and my favorite (the most frequent and the one that describes him the best)–the night sky. Commonly thought of as pitch black, until you take a closer look and observe what you see: lit up by a bright moon, the darkness just a complex contrast allowing you to appreciate the celestial bodies that the sun overpowers.

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