#the rest of you well you're on thin fucking ice until i see each one repent of their sins

[bilbobagginsbrainrotblog]

everybody else unfollow me, i want to be alone with @quilfish-swan

#this joke. tamale and lyn can also stay. #the rest of you well you're on thin fucking ice until i see each one repent of their sins #(the sin is thirsting over thorin oakenshield)

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing x.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 8, 711

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

so here is the mini monster chap !! i know I said this was going to be a drabble series but I clearly got carried away LOL

anyways, no spoilers for this chap but I can say it's one of my favs that I've written and I think we see oc getting the comfort that she deserves (and needs!)

and also !! this is my first time updating a series on tumblr and it feels *exciting* hehe, I hope you enjoy this chapter c:

let me know your thoughts in my asks!! i'd love to hear what you think so far :3

all the love and I hope you're having a great

day/night/evening/afternoon wherever you are ❤️

“Open up!”

The only person that would opt to yell to get your attention than ring on your doorbell like a normal person would be Yena. And it helped that you immediately recognised her voice from the first syllable she uttered. That and you were currently moping in your living room with lactose-free ice cream, courtesy of Jimin that dropped it off a day ago when he heard that you were ‘sick’. Even if you hadn’t seen him face-to-face, you remember him softly hoping you’d get better.

You don’t know why she’s at your door, but you’re already on your feet to get her when you hear her begin to mutter curses directed at you behind the thin wood of your entrance.

“I can hear you!” You call.

“Well bitch then open the damn door!” She snaps.

You roll your eyes, and so far with the number of times you’ve hung out with her, it’s safe to say that the two of you were comfortable. You never knew how fun having a girl best friend was until you met Yena, and sure it’s only been a little under two weeks since you’ve gotten to know her through various messages and FaceTimes, but you feel like she’s your friend soulmate.

And when you expressed that to her over a FaceTime call a few nights back, you remember her gagging all while you flush and attempt to take it back. You know her candidly calling you bitch rather than your name was her saying she felt the same.

You pull the door open as she stands there with her eyes narrowed into slits, eyeing you up and down before she scrunches her nose.

“There’s a thing called a shower that you should look into. You look like a rundown version of long-haired Noah Beck.” She grimaces when she eyes you up and down.

You scowl. “You did not just compare me to him.”

She clicks her tongue before she shoves you aside by shoving a plastic bag of the takeout food into your arms and steps into your apartment.

Yena ignores the glare you shoot at the back of her neck when she looks around your living room, scrunching her nose like she was here to inspect your room than pay you a visit.

“Did someone die in here or was that just your will to live?”

You scoff. “Wow. Drag me.”

She waves you off before plopping onto your couch while you sigh, immediately heading to the kitchen to prep the food she brought over.

“For a moment I thought you were dead.” She confesses casually.

When you return with bowls and plates, with the cutlery to match—you give her a dry look before you’re taking your seat on the floor; attempting to hide your half-eaten tub of ice cream, which Yena immediately spots.

“So your first instinct was to yell at my door in hopes that I wasn’t actually dead?” You ask dryly.

She picks up your ice cream and grimaces at it, silently judging you for the flavour before she gives you a shrug.

“Yeah. I was hoping that your spirit would confer.”

You snort. “And the food?”

“A peace offering.” She tells you like it’s obvious.

You sigh, you loved Yena—you really did. She was all over the place and random, but it was a refreshing difference that you needed in your life from the usual law and order you often opted for.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your concern,” You tell her, pulling out a container to see your favourite lemon chicken as you eye her suspiciously. “But what brings you here? I told you I was sick.”

Yena scoffs. “And sick you are, bitch. What kind of sick person devours ice cream? Sure, you look the part but your diet says otherwise. Don’t think I didn’t see the empty packet of snickers in the trash.”

You scowl.

“I recovered yesterday.” You lie, taking a bite out of the chicken.

Yena rolls her eyes and you know she doesn’t believe you. She leans into your couch while she watches you eat, “Namjoon texted me that you may need some company.” At that, you choke.

Her eyes widen as you hit at your chest to get the food to go down, eyes still wide at her revelation.

“Why would he do that?” You cry.

“Girl, I know you’re not trying to deflect—you’re literally about to choke and die.”

You glare at her. “I’m fine.” You cough for good measure, then you’re levelling another serious gaze at her.

“I’m fine.” You reiterate with an emphasis on your state even though you were anything but. “I don’t know why the hell he thinks I need company.” You mutter under your breath.

At this, Yena’s face softens as she leans forward to rest her elbows on her knees while you avoid her gaze; idly poking at your food.

“I don’t know either, and you don’t need to tell me anything.” She says softly. “That’s all I’m here for. To be your company, whether you need it or not.”

You don’t know how much Namjoon told her over a text message, but you don’t think it’s much. Purely because he didn’t seem like a snitch and he was too respectful to ever let other people into the business that wasn’t his own. Even at the thought, you want to groan because you essentially lured him into thinking it was okay for him to kiss you while you were … you don’t even know what the fuck was happening anymore.

“I—” You say weakly, and all Yena does is offer you a comforting smile.

For some reason, the fact that she’s here right in front of you after you spent the day crying and feeling like your heart has been repeatedly stomped over with the addition of your rumination—it feels nice to have someone with you, even if it’s just their presence.

But the way she doesn’t look at you and expects something out of your conversation makes you feel even more overwhelmed, and that’s probably why the dam breaks.

Yena’s eyes widen as she immediately darts out to wrap her arms around you when you end up in violent sobs. You don’t know why you’re crying but you are, and you’re tired of hiding things, your feelings and your intent just to pretend like things were okay.

“It’s okay.” She strokes your hair and it feels warm, like a mother comforting a crying baby and you realise that this is what friends should feel like.

“N-no it’s n-not!” You cry into her shirt and it’s messy, but she doesn’t seem like she minds. Especially when she supports your pliable frame.

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks softly, giving you a kind smile.

You sniffle, staring forward as you feel your eyes swell with the escalation of your tears.

“I don’t know.” You whisper.

She hums, “It’s okay not to know. You don’t need to know everything.”

“I’m just so tired, Yena.” You tell her in a hushed breath.

“Life is difficult.” She admits. “It’s natural to be tired.”

You’re thankful to hear that she doesn’t comfort you with blind optimism. She’s real and she acknowledges how shitty things may be, and frankly, you didn’t need another wannabe altruist telling you that things will get better. You knew that, everyone did. But when you’re at rock bottom and all you see is darkness, you’re not looking for better. You’re looking for a reason to continue.

“Can I say something?” She asks. The way she looks at you is soft and open, and non-judgemental. You feel safe.

You nod your head, teary eyes staring up at her.

“You’re not responsible for anyone’s feelings except your own.” She looks at you so seriously that you nearly feel your breath escape. “There are things that you can and cannot control—and the latter usually falls under the people around you.”

You suck in a breath, and you wonder how she’s so spot on without ever touching on the true context.

“Namjoon texted me but I didn’t come here because he asked me to. It’s because you deserve to have someone be around you when you’re clearly not okay.”

“I’m—”

“You’re not.” She blinks, and you almost pout at her firm tone. “And that’s okay. I don’t need to know what happened to justify how you feel. You could’ve stubbed your toe and feel like absolute shit and I have absolutely no right to judge you on how or when you feel emotions.”

You wonder where she’s been your entire life and why she was only in your life now.

“But the thing is,” She sighs. “You don’t always have to choose between something or the other. Sometimes you need to choose yourself.”

You stare up at her in awe because Yena was cool in general, her laidback and unbending personality was mainly what drew you to her because you’d argue you were the opposite. Even if Jungkook’s words stung, you could take it at face value and accept that it was true.

You were uptight and you were a bit of a prude, and for the longest time, you always resented that aspect of you. But you realised with Yena, she had traits that were resented in a woman as well. And you realise that you’d never be perceived the way you want unless you perceive yourself in a positive light first.

So when she speaks to you so sternly, yet with a tone of care as she picks apart her words so carefully—you realise what you have to do.

“I think I like Jungkook.”

Yena pauses for a brief second, but you don’t see any judgement in her face. Just confusion, a warranted emotion you don’t blame her for having.

“I figured as much.”

Your eyes widened, “How—?”

It’s almost like a repeat of the first night at the football game when you befriended each other, but she only shoots you a gentle smile.

“Call it a woman’s intuition.”

You blink, fiddling with your fingers before you stare up at her, continuing your drawls.

“And we kissed.”

At this, Yena cocks an eyebrow up, “Was this recent?”

You fiddle with your thumbs before you sigh and push yourself up.

“Thing is …” You mumble, “I’m not like that.”

You don’t answer her question because you can’t think of a proper enough response to tell her that yeah—you did kiss him, amongst other things that you foolishly allowed yourself to indulge in. You knew Yena wasn’t judgemental but you also knew that you couldn’t retrieve your words the moment they left your mouth. It was your own judgement that stopped you from saying the things you really wanted and it sucked, royally. Because you could tell that Yena wasn’t out here to crucify you for being … liberated. She just wanted to be there for you.

Yena scrunches her eyebrows in confusion as she allows your words to settle, pondering a response.

She settles for a huff, “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t … do things like that.” You say softly. “I’m shy and quiet. I’m not active in the social sphere and I only have three friends that I can reach out to if I wanna hang out. But even then, I don’t … I don’t like partying, or drinking, or loud spaces. I’m awkward and horrible at social interaction let alone being able to navigate my romantic feelings. And … I felt so bad about it.”

Yena’s eyes soften, but you can’t look at her just yet. Not when this is the first time you’ve ever laid yourself vulnerable, emotionally that is, to someone that wasn’t just the confines of your thoughts.

“I always wondered what it’d like to be confident, to be liked on campus and not just be known as the smart girl.” You whisper. “My entire personality was built around my achievements and I didn’t know what else to do. What if … what if I peak here and fail after?” Your eyes are wide in despair, and you feel your lips quiver when you speak.

“You’ll never know.” Yena reminds you gently. “You won’t know who likes you or what people say about you—but you’re going to be hearing your own thoughts 24/7 and that’s what kicks you down or drives you further.”

You sigh, nodding your head.

“It’s just … Jungkook and I were close. We grew up together even if he’s younger than me. But we just got along well and he … he saw me. He used to comfort me whenever I’d tell him how pressuring it got and—I feel so stupid because he probably says that to everyone and I fell for it.” You chuckle with no emotion, staring at the stray thread poking outside of your couch pillow.

“Have you spoken to him about your feelings?” She asks softly.

Immediately, you scoff and the sour emotion peaks through again.

“He’s made it clear what he wants to hear from me.” You mutter.

Yena purses her lips before resting her hands gently on your shoulder.

“You’re not answering my question, ______.” She chides gently.

You nibble on your bottom lip and shake your head. That earns a sigh from her as she wraps her arms around you once again, resting her chin on your shoulder as you allow yourself to feel the comfort of her warmth.

“He kissed me first and we did things together.” Your lips quiver when you recall the memories, “A-And he’s with Jennie. I just …” You flutter your eyes shut, “I don’t want to say that I’m the other girl but I feel a lot like a second option and it sucks.”

Yena doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need to justify why you felt the way you did, so she holds you tighter.

“Babe.” She gently turns you to look at her with both hands resting on your shoulders. “Did you talk to him? Properly? Do you really know if he’s with her?”

“I think them kissing proves enough to me.” You snap, and you don’t know why you’re being so hostile, especially to Yena.

She purses her lips, “You kissed him and you aren’t together.”

You wince and she shoots you an apologetic look. She sighs before reaching out to squeeze your hand, all while you stare at the ground to level out your emotions.

“I’m not saying that you can’t feel the way you do. But I’m offering objectivity here. Men are … they’re blunt creatures and that’s the biggest difference between men and women.” You furrow your eyebrows as she takes a deep breath before she continues. “And the idea that we’re equal? No, we’re not. I’m not talking about our systemic positions in society but on an emotional level. Men take things surface value and work with it, they don’t stop to think about the layers of feelings that go into interpersonal relationships with friends, family or lovers. Women? We go big or we go home. All we see is the big picture and sometimes the little details get lost in translation. This isn’t me justifying Jungkook playing home with you or Jennie at the same time, but offering you a perspective that may be hard for you to see because you aren’t him.”

It was true, and you hated yourself for being aware but not putting action based on your own thoughts. Yena only reaffirmed the idea that you overthought every single interaction and maybe that was why you were the one that was hurting.

That, or you and Jungkook had horrible communication problems that neither of you was ready to face just yet. But how could you? When the two of you were on two different wavelengths and you were trying to be just enough for him while he was jumping off pedestals to see you.

It didn’t feel nice, and it sucked because he was the same person that comforted you and broke you all at once.

“I’m scared.” You whisper.

She smiles at you gently, patting your head gently as you peer up at her with tears between your lashes.

“And that’s okay.” She reassures you with a soft voice, “The only thing scarier than being scared is not feeling at all.”

Before you go to where your heart tells you to—your mind is the only thing that keeps you rooted in some form of rationale. That’s probably why you’re outside of Namjoon’s dorm. You don’t think you’ve ever paid his place a visit despite him telling you his address on multiple occasions, usually opting to hang out in public yet serene places where you were able to get a breather.

Your feet feel heavy and your fist is raised, but it barely moves. Especially when you’re just eyeing his door like a deer caught in headlights. You’ve rehearsed the apology on your tongue a million times, even if you don’t really know what you’re apologising for. But you feel like you must, particularly because you’ve senselessly let him see all of the feelings that you were trying to suppress in hopes of retaining the same ones he had for you.

You take a deep breath and deliver the first knock, the vibrations making your arm feel weak.

But you’re tired of always surrendering to bigger and more frightening things that you could understand. So you purse your lips and play the waiting game.

It seems like a long twenty minutes that you wait, but in reality, it’s only two when the door swings open. You brace yourself to see Namjoon, apology already sitting on your tongue.

You should’ve dropped a text, you knew that. But you decided against it because you haven’t spoken to Namjoon since what happened a few days ago. Neither of you speaking about the kiss or the way your eyes glistened when you saw Jungkook and Jennie together.

“____?” He asks confusedly.

You give him a meek smile, “Hi. Can I come in?”

He blinks at you, and you notice he still has his glasses that he usually forgoes during the times you’ve hung out—and you feel a little guilty for catching him at a bad time.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Sure.”

Namjoon steps aside and you’re welcomed into the space of his living room. The first thing you notice is the interior, and how … Namjoon it was. It’s both cluttered and neat, the palette of his furniture matching the overall vibe he emanated. His furniture is mostly wood, light sandalwood that makes it feel all the homier.

And you tell him such, “You have a very homey place.”

Namjoon turns his head to look at you right before he plops himself back onto his couch where you see the bits and pieces of paper scrambled across the floor and the couch. Even then, he was able to look so welcoming even though you reckon he has a right to be hostile—for a reason you came here to apologise for.

“Thank you.” He flushes, patting a spot in front of him for you to take your seat.

When you settle, the atmosphere turns strained when you mull over your words so that you wouldn’t stumble over them. You practised, you did—about a hundred times before you came here and you thought you were ready to apologise and put things behind you but it’s proven difficult when all he does is look at you in earnest.

“Not that I—uh—mind,” He mumbles, “But is there a reason why you’re here?”

You blink at him as you ignore the quiver in your heart.

“I’m sorry.” You blurt.

“_____ why are you—”

“You didn’t deserve what happened the other day.” You interject, voice soft but unwavering when you force yourself to look at him as his eyes widen.

“I wasn’t the one that saw something I shouldn’t have.” He reminds you with a frown.

You swallow, “I kissed you. And you …” It wasn’t helping that he was looking at you so gently as he awaits your continuation. “You didn’t need to save me back then, Namjoon.” You end in a whisper.

Namjoon reaches out to grab your shoulder, touch gentle as he searches for your eyes.

“I didn’t save you …” He tells you tenderly.

“It’s not just that!” You exasperate while you throw your hands up in the air. “I-it’s everything … from the way you treat me and the way you look at me. You didn’t need to do any of that and you even—” You trail off, fluttering your eyes shut. “—what did you say to Jungkook right before we left?”

Namjoon’s eyes enlarge as his grip becomes tense against your shoulder. You can almost see the way his mind kicks into gear as he thinks of a response.

“That—I—does it matter?” He huffs.

Your eyes soften, “Namjoon.” You force yourself to look at him even if now he was the one that tries to avoid your gaze. “What did you say?”

Namjoon tightens his lips before he sighs deeply, head dropping forward before he looks at you.

“I told him to be honest.” He says softly.

You furrow your eyebrows, “To be honest …?”

“I know you have feelings for him.”

Your face blanches when Namjoon basically exposes you. It’s one thing for you to be self-aware of your complicated feelings towards the other boy. But when someone else points it out, especially when it’s Namjoon—the boy who’s been nothing but kind and patient with you while you’re too busy being caught up in your emotions—it’s like a slap across your face.

“I-I don’t—”

“You don’t need to lie to save my face, ______.” He chuckles dryly, eyes darting away as he tries to neutralise his expression. You wince at the spite he establishes, but you know deep down that Namjoon isn’t angry at you. No, he was far too understanding to be. Disappointed? Frustrated? Sure, but never angry,

The silence answers for you when you look away this time, eyebrows scrunched as you attempt to navigate the conversation. You came here to apologise, and to be honest.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath as you flinch. “Don’t … apologise.” He sighs.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on, Namjoon.” You murmur apologetically.

He shoots you a half-hearted chuckle, “You didn’t do anything. Really.”

“But I did, Namjoon. I kissed you back.” You frown.

“That doesn’t imply anything. I kissed you, and you reciprocated. We all kiss someone and not mean anything by it.”

You flinch, and you’re familiar with that more than anyone else. The reminder only stings because it makes you realise that you were not much different from Jungkook, the same person you’ve claimed to have messed with you and fucked you over.

“I’m—”

“Please don’t apologise anymore.” He says. “I already feel like shit.”

You smile sadly at him, “How do you manage to be so nice even when other’s do you wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, then he grabs both your hands in his. “You didn’t wrong me, _____. It’s not your fault you don’t feel the same way I do.”

“How did you …” You trail off.

“How did I know you had feelings for Jungkook?” He chuckles. “The same way he knew I had feelings for you.”

You purse your lips, eyes dropping to your lap. “It’s not that simple, Namjoon …” You say softly.

Namjoon smiles at you gently, “Is it?” He gently nudges your knee with his so that you’d look at him. “Life is simple. It’s not easy. But it’s simple.”

You scoff even if a small smile teases your lips, “You really are a philosophy major, aren’t you?”

The two of you grin in tandem before he purses his lips, possible mulling over something before he faces you.

“The two of you are close so … why beat around the bush?”

Your eyes flutter shut, shaking your head. “Like I said, it’s really not that simple.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but it’s not to mock or taunt you. Namjoon simply sees a naive, yet an intelligent girl who doesn’t see what’s right in front of her.

“Remember what I said? I’m a simple guy.” He reminds you, lips in a grin. “Try me.”

You snort, but you’re still nervous. You still remember that he has feelings for you, so you’re hesitant. And he immediately recognises the guilt-ridden expression that you mar.

Namjoon shoots you a stern glare, “Don’t overthink it.”

You sigh.

“Jungkook and I …” You start, fiddling with your thumbs. “We grew up together.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and shoots you another one of his bland stares. “I know the history. I just want to know why?”

You furrow your brows, “Why?”

“Why the two of you insist on being so emotionally constipated.”

You gape at his audacity, and you’re glad the atmosphere isn’t as tense because Namjoon simply snickers at your reaction.

“I am not—!”

He waves you off, “Really?” He adds dryly.

You purse your lips and relent, even if you didn’t want to agree with him—you knew that he was … right. To a certain extent.

“We kissed.” You blurt.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, “That’s not surprising.”

You shoot him a dry look before he raises his hands in defence.

“He was my first kiss.”

At this, Namjoon’s widen.

“When you were in high school?” He pries.

You flush, embarrassed that you had to tell him otherwise.

“Two months ago.” You mutter.

Namjoon splutters, and you can’t help but glare at him when he quite literally chokes on his spit. You know you caught him off guard, but him rubbing salt in the wound that’s relatively fresh makes you scowl.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. Then he repeats, “Oh.”

You scoff, “Yeah. Oh.”

“Then … what happened?” You know he’s treading carefully with you when he asks you his question softly.

You purse your lips, and you recall every single moment you’ve shared with him. From giggles to hushed kisses, to intimate touches and sweat-stained sheets that have you gasping for air. You remember it all, and they meant … they meant the world to you, but just a speck in his memory.

“Things escalated and we … did stuff together.” You wince.

Namjoon nods in understanding, he gestures his hands around, “Like—”

“I’m a virgin.”

Namjoon blinks.

“And for the longest time, I felt embarrassed about it.”

“Oh.”

“I struggled to find my footing between being sexually liberated and being a woman because for the longest time I thought those two were mutually exclusive. For me, at least.” You say softly.

Namjoon only stares at you.

“And I always wanted validation from someone else to tell me that what I was doing was the right thing to do. Or the supposed thing to do. Never what I really wanted to do.”

“Not that I’m uncomfortable but … why are you letting me in on this?” Namjoon asks with a raised brow.

“Because I want to do something for myself for once.” You whisper.

“Okay …?”

“Why do you like me? Even if I’m … boring and not as sexy as other women?”

You sound pathetic, and the first person you find yourself comparing yourself to is Jennie—a beautiful, confident woman who looked so assured in herself.

“You’re not—”

You groan.

“Namjoon.”

“Okay.” He sighs. “If you’re asking me if I care that you’re a virgin, then no. I really don’t. Because frankly, that concept to me is false and problematic. Whether or not you’ve had sex or not isn’t any of my business.”

You duck your head.

“And I like you because you’re interesting. You’re funny and you’re assured in your own way. You don’t need to be a certain standard of pretty or sexy or whatever for me to like you. I like you because of the time we’ve spent together and that I’ve gotten to know you. The real you and not the person I admired from afar but the girl who throws in jokes out of nowhere but fits so well with the situation. The girl who’s willing to spend three extra hours of her time to help with content that wasn’t prescribed to her. I like you because I’d like to think I’ve grown to understand who you are.”

Namjoon says all of those things while staring at you straight in the face and you feel compelled to cry. Because no one has ever been so honest with you and you hate that your heart can’t reciprocate what should be an easy feeling that comes naturally.

“Fuck.”

His eyes widen.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He coos, a hand petting your hair gently as you sniffle.

“It’s not, Namjoon. Everything sucks because everything is so complicated. Why can’t I just have feelings for you instead?”

It’s selfish, and Namjoon winces. But you’re so overwhelmed that you miss it, and Namjoon is too nice to point his own feelings out.

“You don’t pick and choose your battles, _____.” He murmurs softly.

“That’s not what my mom told me.” You whimper.

He chuckles, “Yeah. Most people like to believe that because it makes them think that they have a choice over the bad things that happen in their lives. But in reality? They don’t. No one decides what happens to them. You pick and choose how you react to things. How you deal with situations and what you make out of those situations is what you can choose to do. You don’t like me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to just because I’m nice to you, _____. Being nice is the absolute bare minimum and something that everyone should feel and do.”

Your face crumbles, “Why are you so wise?”

Namjoon smiles, “I’m not. It’s called offering a different perspective. Just because I see things one way doesn’t make me any better than you who sees things in another. That’s why we meet different types of people throughout our lives. The good, the bad, the in-between. There’s always something people offer to us in the midst of chaos.”

You sigh.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon.”

He pats your head, “I said don’t apologise.”

“No, but I want to. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and you picked up a shitty situation to be in when Jungkook and Jennie were at the library. Even right after I kissed you. That was … a horrible thing to do. I shouldn’t have done that just because—just because I was confused … you don’t deserve that.”

He doesn’t look angry, and that’s even worst because you want him to react, to call you a bitch and say that you were a horrible person.

“I don’t.” He shrugs while you wince. “But a lot of the times we don’t deserve a lot of things that we get. And that’s okay. You did what you thought was justified then, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. But you’re hurting too, and you’re confused—that’s what drove you to do the things that you did, and even here. That’s why you’re apologising to me, right? Because you’re not as confused anymore?”

You shake your head.

“I am, I’m still so confused.” You whisper.

“Then let me offer you another perspective.”

You look up to him with big eyes as he smiles at you gently.

“You have feelings for Jungkook.” You immediately flinch, even if he didn’t hit you. But Namjoon continues. “You’re trying to keep the picture as simple as you can even if it hurts you in the process. But

“You don’t understand, Namjoon … we … did things … that I’m not proud off …”

“You don’t have to—”

“He was my first kiss. My first … sexual experience. Even if it was just … third base,” You cringe, but Namjoon isn’t judging you at all. “A-and that’s all I was to him. An experience.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Do I, Namjoon?” You say softly. “He said things to me that were so hurtful. And a stupid part of me forgives him but it still hurts every time I think about it and when I see him with Jennie.”

You whisper the words Jungkook’s said to you, and for the first time, you see Namjoon’s jaw harden. The most emotion that wasn’t rationale you’ve seen in Namjoon ever since you first arrived.

“I know it hurts.” He murmurs, holding you close. “And I really don’t want it to seem like I’m justifying his words … but would you want to hear me out?”

You purse your lips and nod nevertheless.

“Jungkook isn’t a bad person.” You blink, you never thought he was. “I know you don’t think he is but you want to. Because of the things he’s said to you because why would a good person say those kinds of things, right? But the world isn’t black and white like that. There’s a grey area where 99% of the population falls into because we operate on emotion and sometimes we say things that we may feel but not necessarily believe in.”

“Jungkook … he’s still young. And I know we’re in college and stuff but he’s still three years younger than I am and two years younger than you. He’s spoken to me about how hard it was to adjust to a high school life where you, Jimin and Tae weren’t a part of. And I don’t know about you but if the only friends I’ve ever known suddenly left because they had to … I wouldn’t know what to do either. He was at a point in his life where his environment played a huge part in the values and internalised beliefs he had.”

You look away as you reflect on his words, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“He mixed around with different groups of people, and I hate this saying but it’s still a common belief to many—especially people his age, almost out of high school. But the ‘boys will be boys’ mentality is more than just misogyny and sexism, but a culture where it feeds off complacency and peer pressure. Jungkook suddenly had to shift from three, good friends who were progressive and influential in an objectively good way to people he was obliged to like because they were his peers.”

You gape at him, purely because you knew that Namjoon was smart and wise but his introspection leaves you breathless and enlightened.

“But that doesn’t change the core of Jungkook,” Namjoon says. “He’s still Jungkook. He doesn’t know how to ask for things that he wants without feeling like he’s betraying his masculinity. And again, I’m not justifying his actions because he’s a grown man too. But he’s lost, and the only thing he knows to uphold this sense of masculinity is by being sexually liberated. Even if he conflates his own emotions with his endeavours.”

“I … I don’t even know what to say Namjoon.” You murmur, eyes looking up through your lashes.

“You don’t need to say anything. I just want you to be honest to yourself, not anyone else. But yourself.” He tells you, carding a gentle hand over your head.

You fiddle with your thumbs.

“What do you want?”

Despite you confiding two different people, you find yourself at a convenience store at 12AM, scarfing down ramen from a cup noodle because your mind was a funny place when it was muddled with a hundred different thoughts. You knew sleep wasn’t an option for you either, and you were hungry. But somehow you didn’t have anything back in your apartment that screamed ‘I’m in a crisis’ enough for you to eat.

Which is why you’re here, while the cashier keeps his eyeball to himself when he sees yet another college student who’s probably having their third mental breakdown of the day.

It is, but not for the right reasons, you think dryly.

You think you’re alone until the chime of the bell momentarily distracts you and you turn your head to acknowledge the next lone customer who may be going through their own set of issues, or had a fucked up sleeping schedule.

But you’re not expecting to make eye contact with Jennie, out of everyone or any stranger you could’ve come across.

She spots you, shoots you a weird look that has you nearly choking on a string of noodles before she moves on to what she came here to do and stops at the snack section, skimming through her options before she settles on a pack of shrimp chips. Your heart churns because they were Jungkook’s favourite. You don’t want to wonder why she picked them.

You turn to your noodles, scarf them down some more because you want to eat your thoughts away even if you’re half-considering to call Jungkook, tell him you wanted to talk. But you knew that if you spoke to him now when you were still sorting out your thoughts, you’d end up in a situation you won’t be ready to deal with.

So when you poke at your food and sigh to yourself, you almost miss the way the stool beside you scrapes against the floor as you cringe.

You turn to shoot a petty glare at the person, and you see Jennie; casually tearing open her chips and popping one into her mouth

You blink at her, and you’re left even more speechless when she juts her hand out as if to offer you a shrimp cracker. Like it was a weird symbol of a truce. Even if you weren’t really … enemies.

“Want some?”

You stare at her, and before you can think twice your lips are moving.

“The crackers or your company?” You say dryly.

Her eyes widen, and so does yours. You didn’t expect to say your exact thoughts and you don’t think she expected a quiet, timid girl like you to have said that—out loud at least. Like Yena said, everyone has a mean bone in them. Some longer and larger than others, but they were still there.

“Wow.” She huffs, but she doesn’t seem offended. “Rude, much?”

You wince and feel compelled to apologise. “Sorry.”

She waves you off and you feel odd to be sitting next to her. You always expected her to be more malicious, a lot more of a bitch. And you frown to yourself because you suppose it’s your own preconceived notions of her due to the association she has with Jungkook that had you thinking of her that way.

“What’s someone like you doing here on a weekday?” She asks off-handedly.

The term ‘someone like you’ doesn’t sit well with you, and you scowl.

“I’m eating. What does it look like?” You retort, and Jennie only raises an eyebrow at your response. Much like an angry kitten.

“Damn, I was just asking.” She mutters under her breath, “I’m hungry. Needed a snack.” She shakes the crackers in front of you, “You sure you don’t want one?”

You can’t believe her as you gape at her easy-going state when she thrusts the bag of crackers into your face yet again.

“No.” You furrow your brows, gently pushing it away as she shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s good.” She reasons, and you don’t know why she’s so adamant about having you take one.

The irrational part of you thinks she wants to poison you, to eliminate you for good so she won’t have to deal with your pathetic pining over a person that wasn’t even yours.

“I know.” You mutter. “I tried it before.”

Jennie nods her head slowly, observing the content of the packet on the back before she turns to face you, “Jungkook introduced this to me. Didn’t see the appeal but it’s addictive.”

You freeze, and your ramen soup is getting cold with the way you haven’t prodded at it for a while and in the air-conditioning in the convenience store. You feel your stomach drop, especially now that your initial suspicions were confirmed.

“That’s nice.” You grit. It really isn’t.

“Did he introduce it to you?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

Why you’re still talking to her, or why she was bothering to talk to you when she’s ignored you all this while—you aren’t sure. But you still answer her despite the spite that forms in your chest.

“I introduced it to him.” You inform.

She hums, unbothered. It only irritates you more.

“Is there a reason?” You huff. “Why you’re here?”

She raises an eyebrow, “I’m hungry?”

You scoff. “No.” You slam the table ever so slightly because even if you were annoyed and confused, you weren’t that brave and you didn’t want to cause a scene at a convenience store at midnight. “Why are you here. Talking to me.”

Jennie blinks at you, then stares at you for seconds too long that you flush under her unwavering stare before she ends up in a fit of giggles. You almost think she’s here to mock you, to call you out on your pathetic and humiliating pining for someone who doesn’t care about you the same way you do to him. But she pats you on the shoulder, and you want to think it’s condescending but it doesn’t seem that way at all.

“You’re an acquaintance. You looked like you needed the company.”

You frown, “I don’t.”

She rolls her eyes, munching on another chip.

“You do. Your posture looks depressing.”

“Excuse me?” You scowl.

“It’s true.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem the type to be here wallowing unless it’s really bad. You seem like you have your shit together.”

And because your mind is already muddled and confused, and filled with irrational thoughts. Her words set you off, and you seem to be underrating or overreacting more than usual. So you snap, you shove your cup aside that the soup nearly sloshes out and send her a glare so blazing that Jennie’s caught off guard.

“And you think you know me well enough to gauge whether or not I’m ‘like this’ or the type to have a perfect mental breakdown regimen because I’m smart?” You seethe. Jennie’s eyes widen. “I have mental breakdowns like every other student and I binge eat when I’m stressed and I fuck up from time to time. I curse, yes! I see your face. Oh does she not curse? Well, look at me, bitch. I can curse like a motherfucking sailor at sea when the fishes come because I’m human. I’m just like you. So fuck off with your ‘you seem like you have your shit together’ because I don’t and I’m so fucking annoyed with your stupid face whenever I see it because it only reminds me of Jungkook!”

The silence is defining, even the cashier stops counting his bills for the night because you don’t hear the rubbing of money together. You feel his stare on your back, and more pressingly, you feel Jennie’s shocked expression linger on your face, and now that you’ve come down from your rage. Your face heats up in embarrassment.

You don’t even recall what you said, except for the fact you’ve mentioned her and Jungkook in the same sentence. And your face pales.

“I …” She chokes.

You flush, before you’re turning away, snatching your belongings to leave and forget this convenience store and never return because you don’t think you can show your face here ever again.

But before you’re able to make a run for it, a hand grabs your elbow that stops you from moving any further.

“This is already as embarrassing—” You exasperate, trying to snatch your arm away.

“For a girl so smart, you’re really dumb, aren’t you?” She deadpans.

You gape, finding enough strength to retrieve your arm as you stare at her with a dumbfounded expression.

“Excuse me—?”

“Firstly, let’s unpack what you just said because there are a lot of things that need to be dissected here.” She says blankly.

You scowl, “Look I don’t—”

“One.” She blinks as if she was doing a presentation for a course and not talking to an alleged acquaintance. “I don’t think you should act a certain way just because you’re smart. You’re entitled to your own mechanisms and I’m not judging you for them. I was simply pointing out my own observations, and I’m sorry for being insensitive.”

You’re stunned to silence, because did Jennie just … apologise to you?

“Two.” She says. You listen silently. “I think you have things you need to talk to Jungkook about, and frankly—I would’ve stayed away if I knew that the two of you were a thing.”

“We’re not a thing!” You cry, face flushed.

She shoots you an unimpressed look, “Really. So that oddly targeted blow-up was because of your mental breakdown and not because you don’t have feelings for Jungkook?”

She’s the third person to call you out the same day, or within the first one in the next. And it’s even more embarrassing because it’s the girl you’ve compared yourself to countless times because of your own insecurities.

“Yes.” You snap childishly.

Jennie sighs, gesturing for you to sit on the stool. You want to defy her out of spite, but you’ve already gotten this far into the conversation and you feel like you’d miss out on something if you left now.

“Why are you mad at me?” She asks.

“I-I’m not mad—” You weakly protest.

“You are. There’s anger in you and if it’s not directed to Jungkook then it’s directed to me. Is it because I’m a woman?”

Your eyes widen, “What—?”

“Let me reword that,” She sighs. “Is it because I’m the woman with Jungkook?”

You flinch at her declaration, especially since she indirectly confessed to being with him, while you weren’t.

“I don’t …” You trail off in a whisper.

“I don’t blame you for being angry.” She says. “But I need you to understand that I would never have done anything with him if I knew that the two of you were together.”

“We’re not.” You blink, and her unimpressed look is still there that makes you speak a little louder. “We’re not together.”

She opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it. You see her furrow her eyebrows before she settles for a response that comes a few moments after.

“Okay, then if you’re not together then why the resentment?” She puts it so simply and now that you’re listening to her, you feel a lot stupider.

“I just …” You croak, fiddling with your fingers, “I don’t …”

She sighs, “Listen. We’re both women here. I know how it feels to be left in the dark when it comes to things like this but there’s no point in being angry at me when in reality it’s Jungkook you need to talk to. If you aren’t together then I don’t understand why you’re angry with me—or with him.”

You sit there in silence, nearly pouting like a scolded child.

“You’re his type.” You say softly.

Jennie pauses before she raises an eyebrow.

“And you believe that?”

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, of course?” You mumble, “You’re pretty, confident and sexy. Any guy would like you.”

For a moment, you think you’ve said too much. Looked to vulnerable. But Jennie doesn’t do the typical mean girl thing where she laughs in your face and threatens to expose you. Instead, her eyes soften, and her hand reaches out to hold yours.

“____.” She calls your name gently, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re pretty. You’re confident. You are sexy.”

You flush, “No. I’m not.”

She scoffs, “_____, there isn’t a set definition of what a pretty woman is like. Nor is there a one-dimensional understanding of a confident woman. There are confident women who strut in their walk and commands all the attention in the room. But there are also quiet, assured women who are intelligent and confident in their capabilities. Both of them are so different, but the one thing that they have in common?” She prompts as your eyebrows furrow. “They’re both women who are worthy of love.”

You blink up at her when her tone goes softer.

“I don’t think I’m Jungkook’s type.” She tells you.

But for some reason you need to deny it, again.

“I think you are.” You mumble, “You’re … you. And you’re probably … experienced.” You cringe at what you say, and you’re mortified if you need to explain yourself to her. But Jennie immediately picks up on it, and you don’t notice how she tenses for a split second but recovers immediately.

“We’ve done things together, yes.” You feel your heart shatter, “But you don’t have to do anything with him for him to like you.”

You sigh, “Maybe. But that's the only way he’s ever wanted me.” You say so softly that Jennie almost doesn’t catch it.

Jennie’s face softens much more, turning into a much gentler expression as she nudges your chin to look at her. And when you do, you feel wounded. You feel so much less assured than you were when you were raging at her. You hated it, how she treated you so kindly when she should’ve been cursing at you like you did to her.

“Do you want to know something?” She asks.

You nibble on your lips before you nod your head.

“If someone doesn’t want you. It’s not because you’re lacking. It’s because they’re lacking the sense to perceive you in a way that recognises your inherent worth to be loved.”

Your breath hitches and Jennie continues.

“I’ve had instances where men didn’t want to sleep with me because I was too confident, too sexually liberated for them. As if who I slept with mattered because it wasn’t them. It was never going to be them.”

“I didn’t sleep with Jungkook.” You tell her, voice soft as if you needed to clarify.

“And you don’t need to. You don’t need to sleep with anyone for them to want you. If Jungkook only wants you for your body then he doesn’t deserve you.” She points out.

You feel your heart clench, and the realisation coming from Jennie only hurts even more.

“But he’s important to me …” You whisper.

“What’s important is not always what’s good for you.” She informs you with a gentle smile. “Your sexuality is yours. And if you want to sleep or be sexual with someone, you do it because you want to. Not because someone coerced you into doing it.”

Your eyes widened, “N-No. Jungkook didn’t force me. I consented. To all of it.” You murmur, “I wanted to do it. B-But I just felt so … lacking? In comparison and … since then all he’s came to me for was just … that.”

Jennie nibbles on her bottom lip, “Jungkook’s not a bad person.” She says softly. And she’s the second person that tells you that. So you know it’s a true reflection of his character.

“I know.”

She smiles, “We both do.” She nods, “But he’s misguided. He’s never had the ability to be with someone he really cares for and I think when that happened—he dealt with it the only way he knows how to.”

You furrow your brows, “But he’s with you.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle, “No. Not emotionally, at least.” She informs. “And he doesn’t care about me. I know. He’s always kept me at arms-length away, and I’m fine with that because I don’t like him like that either.”

You blink, and your ears turn red. “H-How do you—?”

“How do I separate lust from affection?” She laughs. “It’s because I can. Not everyone can do that, and Jungkook is one of them.”

“But you just said that he didn’t care about you.”

“I’m not talking about me,” She smiles sadly.

Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion until you realise what she was implying. And you don’t want to assume anything, never. Because hope was the one feeling that was worse than fear and you didn’t want to subject yourself to that just yet.

“Oh.” You mumble.

She nods, squeezing your hand.

“I think he misses you.”

You purse your lips.

You missed him, too.

#bts fic #bts imagine #bts fics #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #bad boy good thing

[linsallyworld]

So I'm sorry for taking so long but uni is truly getting on my nerves. But here we are hope you like it.

Chapter 3

The Iron Lady

Chapter 4

Words: 3600

"I hate that woman." That's what you say when you sit next to Asami and Korra on one of the sofas in the library. Most of the school was in class at the time, you were supposed to be studying for Professor Tenzin's history test, but you couldn't stop thinking in those eyes and those words. She seemed to have been teasing you for the entire reading of the play and now there was the iron lady again.

"Oh, you're doing a great job demonstrating that." Asami murmurs under her breath and your eyes go straight to her, who was actually reading her notes.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Asami just shrugs, but there is a small mocking smile in the corner of her mouth that makes you narrow your eyes.

"What was the year of the French revolution again?" Korra inquires, clearly bored as she flipped through a book with a cover that clearly said "Ancient History".

"1789." You answer without taking your eyes off the window. That was the kind of information your brain easily retained.

"So ... About what happened today ..." You glance at Korra again, only to notice the mischievous smile she has in her mouth as she places the book on the table in front of you. "I would say Professor Beifong is at the very least trying to provoke you and I don't even need Asami's great perception skills to realize this." A sigh leaves your mouth while you roll your eyes. Resentment starts bubbling up in your blood just remembering how suddenly she was all indifferent and bitter again. What was the problem with this woman being at least cordial?

"I have my own assumptions, but I will keep them to myself until further notice." Asami murmured again under her breath and you decided you truly needed some air.

"I'm going outside." You announce and Asami just nods, but Korra gets up.

"I'm not going to read anything before the day before the test, I don't even know why I keep fooling myself." You smile sideways and Korra puts an arm around your shoulder as you go out into the courtyard. There is a nice smell in the air, there were people mowing the football field and the moist smell that comes to your nostrils is pleasant, it calms your brain. "Oh don't fuck with me." You turn to Korra with a frown, but she's not looking at you. She's looking across the courtyard where a girl in a green blouse and a huge braid is heading to the building where the art classroom was seated. It takes you a second to realize who it was ... Kuvira.

"No ..." You start murmuring, trying to put a slight judgment on Korra's head. But she's already smiling from ear to ear, taking you by the hand. You know this is a stupid idea, you would end up screwing yourselves even more. Yet Korra never cared about that, which is why she has spent so many hours in detention.

She's already running and it's extremely hard to follow her pace as she grabs your hand. There is no one in the building. You should know there wouldn't be. Most of the classes here were before the break and now that most of the seniors were having some free time, there was no reason to be in the furthest part of the school. It was the perfect strategy, you had to admit that.

Korra crouches as soon as you reach the corridor that leads to the art room. You imitate her gesture, even if it's so stupid you don't know why you just didn't run the other way when she started pulling you.

You lean against the wall, the door to the art classroom is right next you. Korra gets a little closer and your heart starts beating clearly fast. This could end incredibly badly if Professor Su saw you and even worse if Kuvira saw you. Korra leans over, just enough to be able to look through the window glass.

She quickly comes back, covering her mouth to avoid laughing. Her blue eyes are twinkling with amusement.

"They are making out!" She announces in a completely nonstandard and extremely hoarse whisper. You don't want to see. But at the same time you are already here. Then you lean over Korra to look out the window, just enough for your eyes get a view.

Kuvira's sitting at Professor Su's desk at the back of the room, where she usually kept the paints for painting lessons. Professor Su's between her open legs, her hands so firm on Kuvira's hips you are sure she's leaving marks. You can see how her head is moving and how the kiss seemed to be the beginning of something else.

"I thought Kuvira was a top." You whisper when you crouch next to Korra again and she has to cover her mouth to keep from laughing.

It's at that moment you hear footsteps.

The sounds of heels hitting rhythmically on the floor. The panic begins to materialize in you. It could be any teacher ... Or worse ... It could be Professor Beifong.

You stare at Korra in panic and she widen her eyes the same way in your direction. What were you going to do? If it were another teacher, the chances of Professor Su and Kuvira get screwed were certain ... But if it were Miss Beifong ... She would know exactly what you were doing there.

There was nowhere to run. This was the corridor that led to the art classroom, the other rooms were distant. Either you would get into the art classroom or you would run towards whoever was there.

"Come with me." Korra gets up and you don't hesitate to take her hand, because you have no idea what to do. She pulls you up and then towards one of the corners of the wall. You are about to ask what the fuck is she going to do when Korra grabs your wrists, getting them around her neck and then wrapping her hands around your waist. You widen your eyes and she does the same in warning before leaning over to put her mouth on your neck. She doesn't kiss your skin, but that doesn't vanish the shiver running through your body. Korra giggles and you hit her on the back of the head, finally realizing what she just did.

When the footsteps approach you throw your head back, an Oscar-worthy performance that makes Korra giggle softly once again.

"But what ... WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?" The voice made you freeze in place while Korra jumped away from you. You can hear some sounds that sounded a lot like cursing from inside the art classroom.

Professor Beifong has both hands resting on her waist, her posture so harsh she could break a wall. You swallow. Oh it wouldn’t end well.

"Forgive me, Miss Beifong ... I couldn't help myself." You look from the corner of your eye to Korra. She was walking on thin ice here and knew it well. The teacher's face looked hard enough for your legs begin shaking.

But it is gratifying to make her so mad. Taste a little bit of her poison herself.

"This is a school not a brothel." She announces each word so slowly, almost as if she's trying to control herself so as not to grab your neck and suffocate.

"We are aware of that, Professor Beifong, we're sorry." Korra tilts her head in such false regret you would be really surprised if Miss Beifong believed. But her eyes were not on Korra, they were on you. The same look from the play. Why? You ask yourself and have to avoid the urge to raise an eyebrow in defiance.

She was about to say something. Probably "detention until the end of the semester", but then ... Kuvira walked out the door, looking pretty well fucked. Her braid was messy and her clothes were wrinkled. Professor Beifong's gaze seemed to pierce a hole directly in the girl's shirt.

"Get out of my sight. THE THREE OF YOU." She screamed the last part and you didn't hesitate before taking Korra's hand and running down the corridor, deciding she might as well take out all that anger on Professor Su.

When you told the whole story to Asami she wasn't angry ... No, she laughed out loud at the whole situation and kissed your cheek when she noticed the worried look on your face.

"It's okay, Y/L/N." She looked at you for a moment and you frowned. "I wouldn't even object if you ever want to try." You widen your eyes in her direction and Asami lets out another chuckle before settling on the couch with the book she was reading. "Jinora's going to love this one." You sit next to Korra and together you wait for a moment just to reflect on everything.

"We really should be going home." You mumble and Korra chuckles before pushing your shoulders gently.

"You guys can go ... I have to stay for training today, Coach Bumi is picking on us because college evaluators are going to start coming to watch." You nod and feel pure pride resting on your chest. Your friend could be extremely stubborn and end up putting you in a lot of trouble, but she was good at what she did, the best you've ever seen and deserved that scholarship more than anyone else.

"I'm going to study some more, I think I can go back with you." Korra nods to her girlfriend and then looks at you. A new sigh leaves your mouth. You could not study particularly well in the library, so it was better to find Jinora, Mako and Bolin to go home.

"See you two tomorrow." You kiss the girls' cheeks and then grab your backpack.

Jinora, Mako and Bolin were at the school gate, waiting for you. You grinned and explained Asami and Korra would stay. So you started walking.

You had never noticed how therapeutic this way home was for you. Just walking with the people you liked, sometimes rubbing your hand in Jinora's hand, watching the sun go down over the horizon and feeling the light fresh wind. Summer was almost here, summer vacation ... It was your last year at school, the last year of studying things you didn't like just trying to get into college.

"Have you decided what you're going to do when you finish school?" You ask Jinora. Mako and Bolin's house was already down the street, so they waved and smiled at you before they left. Jinora shrugged for a moment.

"Daddy wants me to be a teacher like him. In fact he's already infecting Ikki with this idea and since she's the little girl in daddy's eyes she is already wanting to go on a preparatory course to teach in high school." You frown at the thought. You were lucky to have comprehending parents. When you finally told them you liked girls, mom hugged you so hard you thought you could suffocate and dad chuckled because he already knew. You had amazing parents and they would always support you, even if you wanted to go to college in drama and cinema.

"What do you want?" You correct the question and Jinora grins at you with the corner of her lips. She looks so beautiful when she smiles like that.

"I have been thinking a lot about psychology or medicine. I want to help people." It's noble of her and Jinora was exactly the type of person who would do that. She looks up and her short hair falls down the back of her neck, locks of hair with chocolate color. "Can you imagine that we will probably never have moments like this again?" A lump forms in your throat at the thought. You grew up with these people. Professor Kya healed your first scratches. You used to have dinner at each other's house every weekend when you were kids. And then the second year came. Korra got tired of flirting and kissed Asami on the Fourth of July holiday. Bolin started dating Opal, Jinora started dating Kai and little by little some things disappeared. You grew up, that was the truth you often tried to ignore. You guys grew up. "Sorry ... I didn't want it to sound like that." You sniff, feeling some tears have accumulated in your eyes. How are you supposed to hear Jinora give a speech on graduation night without bursting into tears if you could barely think about it all ending without your heart squeezing to the point of leaving you breathless? "Hey." Jinora holds your hand in hers. Her hand's hot and seems to scare away any bad thoughts. You take a deep breath and look at your friend. Her eyes are warm too, so sweet.

"I think I will be your first appointment." You joke and she chuckles, squeezing your fingers one last time before releasing your hand. You notice her cheeks look a little flushed.

You frown. No. Korra was imagining things for sure.

You guys talked a little more and she laughed a lot at the whole story about the fake kiss with Korra. You were already thinking about faking an illness tomorrow just so you wouldn't have to face Professor Beifong.

You kissed Jinora on the cheek before leaving and she smiled brightly at you before following the path to her home alone. You still watched her go, her hair shining in almost the same shade as the sunset.

You didn't want to have one last time. High school could suck sometimes. But you loved your friends and the thought of losing them made you want to throw up.

(...)

"Hey, muscles." You greeted Korra with a smile when she stopped next to you in your locker. She leaned over to put a kiss on your cheek and you yawned right away. You hadn't slept very well last night, thoughts about the end of the school year, college, your friends, and certain green eyes did not leave your head. It wouldn't be surprising if it simply exploded at some point in the near future.

"What class are you having now?" Korra asked as she stuffed the geometry book into her backpack. You forced your head a little sleepy to think straight.

"Biology." With Professor Kya. You liked her a lot, she was one of your favorite teachers, she was cheerful, but not the silly type who doesn't develop the topics and just moved everyone to the next grade. She knew how to be strict as well and lectured about marine biology like no one else.

The buzzer sounds in the distance and you close your eyes for a brief moment, wanting to the damn person who created that shit to be dead. Your head started to throb. It's not like you're worried, Professor Kya was relatively relaxed with schedules, she was late sometimes. So you take your time getting what you need for the next classes. Korra doesn't look incredibly excited for the geometry class and looks at you with exhausted eyes. Coach Bumi certainly made her work out like crazy yesterday, he could never leave the star of the team with a poor improvement.

You pull the last book into the backpack and then throw it on your back, ready to face the day as best you can.

That meant you would probably sleep in some class, perhaps Professor Su's who didn't care greatly about it.

"Hey, you two!" Your tired head takes a few seconds to realize whose voice it is and when you do, your eyes widen, just like Korra's. You turn back almost at the same moment to face Professor Beifong.

God. She was deadly beautiful that day. Heels, tailored pants, a belt with a golden buckle, and that black silk shirt with the first two buttons open. Why did you have to be so weak for a woman so stupidly thick and cruel?

"The buzzer rang. Are you deaf?" You bite your lower lip hard enough to draw blood in order not to roll your eyes. She was on a bad day, you could tell by the heavy steps and the way she crosses her arms under her chest while facing you and Korra. Her eyes seem to shine, seem to ask for defiance. You were so tired and honestly, you were not in the mood for this little superiority game Professor Beifong seemed to appreciate playing so bad.

"We're on our way, you don't have to be all cranky pants on that, professor." Your eyes spot on Korra and the tiny smile she has in the corner of her mouth. Oh shit. You had extremely stupid friends. This was not the fucking time to tease Professor Beifong's humor, perhaps someday she didn't seem to break a wall with her shoulders it might work.

Professor Beifong looked at Korra for a moment, from the shabby shoes she liked to wear to the tip of her dark hair. A predator analyzing the prey. It takes everything in you to just not get in front of Korra.

"It looks like you're trying to get detention during the team's training for the rest of the semester." Your eyes widen. And you don't have to look at Korra to know hers are the same. This was real thin ice. Korra couldn't miss the team's training sessions, that was the college scholarship you were talking about ... You think she is probably bluffing because ... Who would leave the quarterback out of training? The director herself would not allow it. However ... When you look at Professor Beifong's eyes it's pure defiance you see shine there. If anyone could do that kind of thing at this school, it was her.

“Hey, she just made a little joke. There is no need for all of this. ” The woman's head turns slowly towards you as if she remembers your existence only at that moment. It's so evident when her eyes narrow, calculating, watching. You may feel your heart rate increasing, but for some reason, you aren't holding it back. You look back at her, because...Man, she is a teacher. She can't kill you in the middle of the corridor and if she wants to take that shit out of that temper...She can do that on you and not on Korra.

"Do not provoke me, Ms. Y / L / N." The way she says those words. It's calculated, like everything she says. She knows perfectly well what she is doing to you. The breath catches in your throat for a moment. Because her jaw is firm as a rock, you are sure she could cut your finger if you tried to run your hand over there. Even if you were never going to do that. You don't remember seeing that expression on Professor Beifong's face directly at you and you would lie if you said that it doesn't scare you.

Because she still looks like a high school teacher. But the way she tilts her head and her eyes shine in your direction makes a shiver swing your spine. She could break your neck with just that look. So easily.

You swallow. And it looks extremely dry.

You were a true brat with authority issues.

Because what comes to your head next... It's just that expression of indifference. That damn indifference after she got her face flushed reading a play with you.

Fuck that she was pissed. She could get mad and walk around this school as if she were the worst thing that ever came upon earth, but you knew she wasn't.Because she smirked at you. Because she had that sparkle in her eyes when she did. Because she got flushed when she read that play.Because she had feelings.

You just want to stop pretending you don't realize that.

Fuck. You shouldn't.

"Or what?" As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret it. When Professor Beifong swallows you are sure she will actually break your neck and you can’t even say you don't deserve it. You believe you can hear her teeth gnashing inside her mouth as if she is holding it up so as not to do anything worse than just scream. Oh you were so fucked up.

You're a stupid brat. Because your next thought it's about how sexy she looked when her lips were pressed like that.

"Detention." She growled. Professor Beifong ... She growled. An eyebrow raised towards you almost like a spasm of anger. Your fingers are shaking. Why do you want to touch that scar so badly? "Only. You." Each word was said separately, while the breath came out very weakly through the teacher's nostrils. She was pretty mad. The color started to appear on her face, a red shade you don't know if you've seen on her. She points her finger at the school corridor and it's Korra's turn to grab your elbow and pull you hard away from Professor Beifong. Her grip is difficult, but you can still turn your face to see Professor Beifong's fingers tremble as they point where you are supposed to go.

You have never seen her so pissed off. Not even when half of the class cheated on the English test last year.

That was what you would have to deal with after class.

It would be better to just have a stroke. But perhaps even that wouldn't spare you from Miss Beifong's fury or you own hots.

#avatar the legend of korra #tlok #lin beifong #fanfic #high school fanfiction #lin beifongxreader #fanfiction #high school #korra #jinora #asami sato #kuvira #su beifong

[touyota]

Catfish

☁ Summary: Tomura is hopeless when it comes to relationships, and soon that’s all subject to change. With the power of Tinder, Touya and one oblivious chick on his side, who knows what can happen. 

A/N: omgggg, i’ve lurked on my priv for the past year and finally decided to stop being a narc and post something. i haven’t written in forever and it shows lmao, but uh yeah pls give me feedback if you’d like. (also idk if this has been. done before, but sorryyy if it has)

☁ Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x fem!Reader

☁ Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, manipulation, dumbfication (if you squint), slapping, yandere, catfishing 

"Fuck I'm horny." 

Tomura groaned into his pillow, conflicted with whether he should be agitated or turned on. Due to his third nap of the day being interrupted by the excessive lewd noises coming from the shared living room. Tomura's roommate, Touya, had no real understanding of boundaries and was often more bothersome than helpful. Still, without his portion of the rent, he'd be on the streets struggling to find an apartment within his meager budget.

"Keep fucking me, Touya-san!" The plea echoed through the thin walls of the shoddy apartment. At least someone was getting laid. The last time Tomura had gotten lucky was at an impromptu Halloween party thrown by Touya at the apartment. 

He went as Jason Vorhees using a dingy hockey mask he found in Touya's closet. The poor girl in question, who came dressed as an angel, was drunk out of her mind. She clung to Tomura's scrawny body incoherently, slurring about "How hot it would be to fuck a murderer." The fling hadn't lasted long before the young lady in question toppled over the side of his bed and hurled her entire cup of jungle juice onto the floor. Poor Tomura had to spend his night nursing her head over the toilet. Making a mental note to tell Touya that he couldn't invite any freshmen to their parties ever again.

Tomura ended up seeing her again in passing on campus, giving a small smile as she walked by. Only to be met with an eye roll as she turned to walk in the opposite direction. Fucking bitch... Other than that, Tomura had found himself too busy writing code, playing video games, and browsing Reddit to dedicate any time to dating. The polar opposite of his roomie Touya-san, a communications major whose schedule consisted of dating? If you considered fucking the same chick for a week before ghosting her dating, sleeping, and eating and drinking Tomura out of a house and home.

"You ready for my load? You're my little cum dump, right? Say you're my cum du-"

Speaking of fucking, Tomura's hard-on was starting to hurt, and what better way to relieve himself than to beat off to the action in the adjacent room. 

He started to palm himself over his sweats, erection already beginning to poke through. Figuring that he's teased himself enough, he lowered his boxers, allowing his cock to slap against his stomach, throbbing and angry. He slowly stroked himself, gathering the pre-cum spouting from the tip, and used it to lube the rest of his cock.

"Pleaseee fuck! I'm your little cum dump! I swear Touya!" 

Tomura started to stroke his cock faster, leaving a squelching noise with each stroke. He was barely managing to suppress his moans. Knowing how Touya wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he got caught fucking his hand to the sounds of their subtle lovemaking. 

"Fuckfuckfuck... I'm cumming!" Touya grunted, giving out after his final stroke.

Tomura followed suit, flicking his wrist with each stroke. As his orgasm finally took hold of him, biting into his shirt to stifle his moan as he came all over his fist. 

"Are you fucking serious, Touya?"

"What?" 

"I didn't get to cum?"

"Um… I'm sure you can take care of that when you get home."

"You're such a piece of sh-"

Tomura tuned out the rest of his roommate's performance. Really hoping he'd wrap it up cause he really needed to take a piss and couldn't make it to the bathroom without passing through the living room. 

After hearing a respectable amount of silence, he figured it was safe to leave the room. Of course, he was wrong; he was met with a staredown between Touya and a petite blonde woman.

"I'm sure your roommate Tenko wouldn't leave a lady hanging like that."

"It's Tomura," he muttered.

"Same fucking thing, my point still stands," The mystery woman huffed. There was a pregnant pause before Touya doubled over in laughter, clutching his chest.

"You think this cuck knows how to take care of a lady? Yeah, it's time to go, Tara."

"It's Toga, you shit stai-"her statement was abruptly interrupted, the door slamming in her face. Touya's back slid down against the door as he sat facing Tomura. 

"Chicks? Am I right?" Touya sighed, peering over at Tomura, who had just left the bathroom. "Speaking of chicks, when's the last time you had sex, Shiggy?"

"It's been... a while." Tomura shrugged, not wanting to indulge his roommate with the details of his sex life.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Let's make you a Tinder." Touya proudly announced, excited at the prospect of playing matchmaker for his roommate. Tomura reluctantly gave in, knowing once Touya was set on something, it was bound to happen one way or another. 

Two blunts later, Tomura and Touya were strewn over the couch, mulling over his profile's final details. It consisted of three pics, one from the Halloween party, another from their most recent function. The last pic is a selfie of him in a black hoodie with sunglasses on. The icing on top is the bio that unironically stated, "Freak in the sheets, gamer in the streets."

"You're gonna be a real pussy magnet shiggy. Just wait, you'll have to fight the chicks off with a stick after they see this." Touya chuckled as he took another puff of the blunt.

"Go to hell and stop hogging; you didn't put shit in on this anyways," Tomura muttered as he snatched the blunt away to take a pull. Maybe he would find some success, he entertained the concept of having a consistent fuck buddy, but sometimes he was lonely and just wanted someone to lay up with. He wanted to be optimistic about something for once, taking his final pull and ashing the blunt out. The smoky haze and intoxicating scent lulling him to sleep. 

Fuck optimism, Tomura thought. It had been three days with zero matches or messages, and he was starting to think there had to be a glitch in the system. The only time he had seen a match is when he accidentally swiped on Midnight's profile, a famous Only fans content creator who specialized in BDSM. The same Midnight that he happened to be a top donor for and occasionally bought panties from, but that's beside the point. The profile was poorly made with blurry, uncropped pics taken straight from her social media profiles. The lack of detail and legitimacy was apparent. Tomura felt terrible for the poor soul who probably fell for it, but it made him think… 

Why not see how different the response would be if he ran a profile under someone else's guise.  Someone more attractive, someone more affluent, and someone more famous. This was simply a social experiment; no harm would come from it of course. He would simply ghost anyone who wanted to meet, keeping all interactions virtual. Now who could he possibly pretend to be. without getting caught. Tomura's eyes finally settled on an Axe ad playing on tv featuring male model Keigo Takami. Mr. tall, blonde, and handsome would definitely attract the feminine masses.  

Ding ding ding, it was like a bell went off in his head; he had found his new look. He started to scour the internet for any pictures of Hawks that weren't already posted to his socials and be sure to crop any evidence out. A few hours later, Tomura gazed over his final product. He thought it seemed too good to be true; he was sure that anyone with a working brain would know the profile was clearly a catfish. It was too clean, too pristine, and too perfect, but Tomura was tired of the profile's nit-picking details and saved his last changes. It was starting to get dark, and he had to begin his Comp Sci homework soon so he'd have time to play zombies on Call of Duty later. 

Tomura woke to a multitude of buzzes notifying him of the several hundred matches he'd accumulated overnight on his Hawks profile. Apparently, no one had a working brain within the 15-mile radius. The messages were filled with tons of chicks he had seen on campus or in class. He even recognized the one from the Halloween party. He spent his morning smoke break, siphoning through the various contenders.

Too tall.

Too blonde.

Too ugly. 

Until...

He finally stopped scrolling when he reached your profile; he had seen you before in his Major classes. You were a somewhat modest girl, always working to be an overachiever and teacher's pet. You hadn't spoken to him before, only forcing a smile when Tomura was caught staring at you in class. You were talented, beautiful, quiet, and you hadn't encountered Touya yet. You were everything he had wanted, and more. He started to type a message awaiting your response.

Keigo: "What's keeping you up this late, love ;)" 

Tomura thought to keep it casual enough to fit his suave persona.

Y/N: "lol, just sum late night studying keeping me up."

Y/N: "won't lie im very nervous to texting you rn, i'm a big fan 

Keigo: "it's gud knowing i have fans as cute as you ;p"

The conversation seemed to flow from there between you two, texting for almost two weeks strong. Tomura had learned so much about you in a short time, your favorite foods, your favorite color, favorite music, and your dislikes as well. Touya often came by his room to check in on Operation: Get Shiggy Some Pussy, only to be met with a "Fuck off," and yet another door slammed in his face. 

You gushed over how lucky you were to be texting the one and only Keigo Takami. Of course, you were skeptical at first, but what kind of fucked up person would take the time to pretend to be another person? The conversation between you two was great and always kept you on your toes. Still, sometimes days would pass before you received a response; you chalked it to the fact that he was always busy as a celebrity and didn't always have time to respond to you. 

You were currently lying in bed and unable to fall asleep; you peered at your phone to see that it was 2:05 am. You let out a sigh, preparing to stare at your ceiling until you finally fell asleep, only to be interrupted by a chime from your phone. It was a message from Keigo. 

Keigo: you up? ;(

You instantly typed a response, scared that you had done something wrong.

Y/N: yup, what's wrong…?

Keigo: i'm so fucking hard rn baby ;(((

Oh shit, you hadn't prepared yourself for that response; maybe he injured himself at work or-

Keigo: you still there babe? send a pic ;p

You definitely hadn't prepared for that, but who were you to deny him. Keigo could've asked anyone else in the world, but he asked you. Not wanting to leave him waiting, you quickly shucked your shirt off and used your arm to push up your breasts, giving an illusion of the perfect push up bra. You promptly took several pics, taking the time to edit and select the ideal filters to complement your skin tone.

Y/N: 1 image sent

A bubble indicating him typing popped up instantly 

Keigo: 3 images sent

Keigo: fuckkkk babe, ur such a tease

You opened the pics, feeling your panties dampen slightly. It was a cock, well Keigo's cock, fat and engorged, leaking pre-cum against his toned belly. He was mostly well-groomed, but a prominent white tuft of hair appears in the picture, making you wonder if Keigo was actually a natural blonde.

Keigo: 1 video sent

 let me see that pretty pussy baby, 

It was a video of Keigo languidly stroking his cock, how romantic. It was only right for a gorgeous man like Keigo to have a pretty cock to match. What he lacked in girth was definitely made up for in length, complemented with a slight curve that could definitely reach that itch that none of your toys could scratch.  By now, you had ditched your panties and started to slowly start to fuck yourself open with one finger at a time. You started recording and angled the phone against your pillow, trying to capture you desperately fucking yourself on your fingers, letting out a small whimper with each thrust.

Y/N: 1 video sent 

You began to fuck yourself vigorously, dragging the accumulated slick over your clit with slow, circular strokes. You felt your orgasm on the brink, growing more restless and desperate, humping reverently at your fingers, whimpering desperately; you were so close...There was a sudden surge of fluid from your core, incoherent mumbles leaving your mouth as you kept carefully fucked yourself through your climax. The post-orgasm bliss lulling you to sleep, your eyes had finally fluttered shut, only to be awakened by another chime. 

Keigo: 1 image sent 

look @ all that cum baby, its all for you ;)

Y/N: when can we meet? my fingers can only work for so long :p

Read: 2:53 am

Aw man, maybe he fell asleep. You were definitely fighting sleep at this point as well, finally closing your eyes, satisfied for the night. 

Tomura struggled to catch his breath, reaching for his discarded shirt to wipe the sticky cum off of his stomach. That was the third time this month you'd ask about a meeting, and it was frankly starting to piss him off. He'd have to come up with something fast if he wanted to keep you around. Even though he didn't have much of a moral compass left in his body, the feeling of guilt was hard to ignore. You didn't deserve to be roped into his fucked up social experiment… 

A yawn interrupted Tomura's guilty thoughts. He could continue to feel guilty when he wakes up tomorrow.

 The following week your prayers had been answered, Keigo finally agreed to meet! It had been such a bittersweet feeling. What if he thought you looked nothing like your profile pictures? Would he reject you and run the other way, screaming? You tried to push your doubtful feelings down by distracting yourself with running errands. Finding the perfect outfit to wear, getting every inch of your body waxed, and picking up a lacy red lingerie set. 

Upon getting back to your apartment, you found a red bouquet of roses on the doormat. They were clearly store-bought and not of excellent quality… but it's the thought that counts! 

Lots of celebrities were frugal, and of course, Keigo was no different. After further inspection, a small white card with an address and time. You searched the address finding a mid-grade hotel on the outskirts of the city. Keigo was definitely a (cheap) frugal man dedicated to his discretion. Soon realizing that the time on the card was approaching, you quickly ran to shower and primp yourself for the evening. Not even thinking to question how he found your address in the first place...

You had finally arrived at the sketchy hotel, noting that there were little to no cars in the parking lot and noting that none of them looked like they belonged to Keigo. You wandered through the lobby until you finally reached the elevator, tapping the button for the 5th floor. You tried to shake off your pre-meeting jitters, you already knew everything would be fine, but you couldn't shake the feeling of something wrong...

Those intrusive thoughts were soon interrupted by the chime that indicated you had reached your floor. You took a deep breath as you stepped off the elevator, pacing yourself as you walked to your destination. 

Room 555 

How fitting, you thought. Your knuckles rasped against the door several times.

"Come in." A voice sounded through the door.

You peeked your head around the door before taking a step in the room, not being able to locate the owner of the voice. You gasped after taking the appearance of the room. The room had rose petals haphazardly strewn across the floor. Candles flickered on the dresser, a bubble bath was run in the bathroom, and to top it off, a too cheap bottle of champagne on ice. 

There was clearly an effort made, which made your heart swoon, hoping to put a real face to the man you've been speaking to for the past few months, you said out into the empty room.

"Keigo, I like what you've done with the place. You can come out now," you giggled.

"I'm glad you got the flowers," a raspy voice responded.

.......Huh?

Your joy instantly crushed, having heard Keigo's voice multiple times in the interviews you've seen, it sounded nothing like that. Unless he'd suddenly started chain-smoking within the past few months. A loud alarm started going off in your head. It was definitely time to go.

You twirled on your heels and reached for the doorknob, only to be stopped by a hand gripping your upper arm.

"Leaving so soon? The bathwater is still warm…" The mystery voice informed.

"Oh… I think I have the wrong room, so sorry about that." You squeaked, attempting to reach the door again only to be dragged into a bony chest. 

Your chin was tilted, forcing you to meet eyes with "Keigo." Who was actually a porcelain-skinned tower of a man with shaggy white hair that had an oddly familiar look to him? 

"Let me go! You're not Keigo!" You screamed, hoping to alert any other guests on the floor.

"Fucking took you long enough. I thought you were smarter than those other bitches on campus. Tomura balked, struggling to keep you still in his grasp.

Campus. That's where you recognized the face and voice of your captor, you were both in the same Comp Sci class, and you'd often caught him staring as you worked, chalking it up to you having something on your face or in your teeth. The realization caused tears to spurt from your eyes.

"Poor baby, didn't mommy and daddy teach you to not speak to strangers on the internet?"

"I-I thought y-you were K-Keigo," you gasped, struggling to control your sobs. 

"Well, I'm not. Get over it." Tomura slurred, placing sloppy kisses over your collar bone, slowly backing you towards the bed. 

You couldn't bring yourself to move or fight anymore, body stiff with fear. Your sobs increase in volume after feeling your legs make contact with the edge of the bed. You didn't know this man from a can of paint, and here he is about to assault you. 

"Stop crying before I leak those sexy little videos you shared with "Keigo." Imagine if everyone in the class knew how much of an easy slut you are?" Tomura hissed, shoving you unto the stiff mattress, springs squeaking as you bounced. 

You cradled your mouth, struggling to stifle your sobs. Why hadn't you recognized the signs sooner? You spent so much time looking at the situation through rose-colored lenses that you had utterly neglected your safety. But it wasn't the time to feign sympathy for yourself. You needed to take action, and soon—the shaggy haired stranger dragging your motionless body towards the end of the headboard. 

"Wait!" You gasped, hoping that you could possibly reason with your captor.

"What's your name? 

This was your final chance to escape. You suddenly kicked forward, aiming for his face, failing miserably as it was blocked. Both legs were then shoved into a mating press, granting Tomura the space to press himself even closer to you.

A groan left Tomura's mouth, frotting against your clothed mound, smothering your neck with sloppy saliva drenched kisses. You cowered at the feeling, curling away from his advances. The dry humping continued until a final groan of desperation was released. He was too grown for this shit and didn't feel like going home with stained boxers when your sweet heat was right in front of him.

The red bodycon dress you decided on was shredded down the middle, leaving you in your lingerie set. You added that to the list of things you were already regretting, moving to cover yourself the best you could. Your efforts to preserve the crumb of modesty you had left were futile, both hands knocked out of the way.

"You don't have to hide princess, I think Christmas came early.” “You're wrapped so pretty, baby." He chuckled, moving to fondle your breasts. Taking the time to pinch and pull at both nipples, drawing small hesitant gasps. 

"I'll play with these more later. You don't know how long I've waited to play with that cute little pussy in person." You felt your panties tugged to the side, embarrassed with the amount of arousal accumulated below. The feeling was soon replaced with horror after feeling the tip of his cock dragged between your slit.

Tomura used the residual slick to grease his cock, bypassing the need to stretch you out. He pressed forward, forcing himself inside, pausing to catch his breath. Damn... it's been a long time. 

You yelped in pain, closing your eyes in hopes of blocking out the situation at hand. You felt him start to pick up his pace, causing small tinges of pain to course through your body. 

"Mmmm, open your eyes. I want you to watch me fuck you." He gasped, realizing you hadn't complied yet, he landed a firm slap on your cheek. "Not only are you dumb, but you're also deaf too… open. SMACK your. SMACK fucking. SMACK eyes." 

Your eyes shot open, brimming with tears, finding yourself face to face with your captor. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, dainty white lashes framing the lids, traces of dry patches on his face. He wasn't ugly. You'd honestly give him a chance if he asked you out like a decent human being.

His pace had gained traction, hips crashing against yours. You found yourself slowly succumbing to the pleasure, discreetly fucking yourself against him. You wanted to protest and resist against him, but with your inhibitions lowered, you found it hard to comply. Each thrust pulling you further into the abyss that was your impending orgasm. Your lust-filled thoughts being interrupted by the stranger's incoherent mumbling.

"Tomura."

"Huh?" you whimpered, not fully understanding what he said. 

"My name is Tomura."

"Okay and mine i-"

"Shut up and say my name." Tomura's thrusts were sporadic, signaling his impending climax. "Beg me to cum…... please." 

You barely registered the final demand, not recognizing the soft tone of his voice.

"T-tomura, p-please let me cum!" you begged, right on edge needing something, anything to push you over.

Two nimble, callused fingers drew delicate circles over your clit, forcing you to writhe and sob as your orgasm coursed through your body. The feeling that followed was one of warmth as Tomura came, slowing his thrusts until he collapsed, encasing you in his arms.

Your eyes fluttered shut with your post-orgasm haze lulling you to sleep until a wet, sticky substance trickled along your inner thigh... 

What the fuck....

You nearly launched yourself from the bed, fighting to separate yourself from your captor's arms.  

"What is wrong with you?"

"You didn't use a condom," you wailed, tears perched at the corner of your eyes. You didn't have the time for a child, you were doing great in classes, your parents would reject you, you'd be stuck playing house with some stranger and-

"Stop muttering. You're fucking up my nap. I'll buy a Plan B when I wake up." Tomura mumbled into the pillow, dragging you back into his chest.

You continued to fight his grasp, pausing after feeling a firm pinch to your side. Fighting was futile at this point, and you couldn't fully assess the situation until you had some decent sleep. 

Closing your eyes for a few seconds wouldn't hurt…right?

#bnha x reader #yandere bnha #bnha smut #shiggy x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #mha x reader #mha imagines #mha x y/n #tw: noncon #tw: manipulation #tw: slapping #tw: dumbification

[neptunetheplanet7]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 - 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 & 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

DM ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE PUT ON THE TAGLIST!!

;mikasa ackerman x fem!lesbian!reader

;modern au, band au

word count: 2.1k

warnings: swearing, slight angst in the beginning but not really, fluff

i owe you guys an apology. i’m not very active on tumblr as of posting. i’m sorry about that. school has been hard on me and i’ve been very stressed. i’ll try to do better in the future :)

listen to the music masterlist

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Armin was discharged from the hospital only a day after the accident. The doctor said there was nothing extraordinary to worry about. But of course, even with this information, Eren still made a fuss. That much was clear when he walked through the door with Armin's arm slung over his shoulder.

"I didn't break my leg, Eren. I don't need to use you as a crutch," Armin grumbled as the two walked into the kitchen from the garage. He reached back to shut the door with his free hand.

Eren rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for supporting you in these trying times."

"I don't need your support," they scoffed. He unwrapped his arm and made his way across the room.

Eren gave him the finger, rather aggressively. The gesture wasn't reciprocated since the blond already disappeared into the hallway.

Sucking on a freeze pop, you leaned back against the cool countertop. "Welcome home, lovely. Have fun?"

Eren sighed loudly as he walked toward the freezer and got a popsicle for himself. He grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the top of the wrapper off into the trash.

He said sarcastically, "Oh, absolutely I did." He paused and shook his head disapprovingly. "He's a lot bitchier when it's us two. How's it been here?"

You shrugged. "So, so. Pretty quiet."

He nodded and pushed up the pineapple-flavored ice. "Thought so. Jean's gone today, obviously. Is Mikasa here?"

You huffed softly at the mention of her. "I haven't seen her since breakfast. She's been upstairs all day."

He frowned. "Oh, I see. Armin told me about the kiss, by the way. At first, I was gonna make fun of you for passing out but now that just seems cruel."

"You think?" You laughed lightly and rested both arms on the counter.

The sound that followed from him was more of an exhale than a laugh. "Listen, Y/n, even if she's avoiding you right now, I know she'll come around. Just wait and see."

"You're right," you mumbled, sticking the freeze pop in your mouth again. Armin basically said the same thing. Eren sent you a quick smile and patted your shoulder before leaving through the hallway.

You swallowed the remaining ice and threw away the wrapper. Noticing the bin was full, you took the trash to the bigger bin outside. Maybe doing some chores would distract you from Mikasa for a while.

Plus, today was the only day that allowed you to do so. Practices for the band's upcoming performance were every day until the date of it. You'd be rehearsing 24/7 since it was scheduled on such short notice.

It was going to be at a middle school some of your friends went to. The DJ they booked before flaked and your manager was kind enough to offer your talents.

Jean was meeting with Hannes and the school administrators to work out some extra kinks before the practices began.

The only day there wasn't a rehearsal was on Eren's birthday. You all decided it'd be best to take the day off to celebrate and set up for the party that would be happening later in the night.

The day passed easily as you got caught up on chores that weren't done over the past few days. The house was messier than you liked it although it hadn't been long at all since the previous clean-through. However, it had been a hectic week.

Speaking of hectic, when Zeke was there, he sure made himself at home. That much was clear when you made it to the living room portion of the basement.

Eren probably couldn't find time to clean up yet. Either that or he was just lazy because at that moment he was more focused on a pinball machine than the state of his living space.

His brother's suitcases were lying open by the couch. To be honest, you didn't love the idea of a criminal's possessions lying around your home. So, you decided that throwing them in a storage closet was the best option. 

When you finished tidying up, you started a game on the pinball machine next to Eren's.

His birthday was in three days. The house looked a lot better than it did when you started, which was perfect for throwing a party. You could only hope it would stay that way.

After a few hours of playing games with him, Jean came down the stairs to let you know he was back from the school. He left when he saw neither of you were interested in what he had to say.

Once it got dark outside, you left Eren to his own devices and went to your own room to chill out some more.

Unfortunately, when you flopped down on your bed, Mikasa started to consume your thoughts again. In an effort to fight them, you turned on a show to distract yourself.

For the slow hours you spent staring at the screen, you couldn't focus, not once. No matter how hard you trained your eyes on the screen, you still thought about her.

Sighing, you got out of bed and walked to your bedroom door. You were careful of the creaking hinges, it was around midnight. Everyone would either be asleep or close to sleeping.

Except for Armin. You had no idea what he did at night but you knew better than to ask. However, he was probably pretty tired from the time spent at the hospital. So, there was a solid chance he actually was asleep.

You crept outside, checking that the front door didn't make too much noise. Your car was parked in the driveway since there was never room in the garage. The gravel underneath your feet made noise as you walked toward it. You pushed yourself onto the hood and leaned back against the windshield.

Drawing in a long breath, you stared up at the sky. You needed to calm down and clear your mind. This would help, as it usually did.

Even if it was a little chilly, it was warm for a night in March, especially this late.

The stress that bubbled inside you simmered down the longer you watched the thin clouds dim the stars.

Any negative thoughts you had about the situation with Mikasa or the previous days seemed to disappear the longer your focus was on the sky.

Gravel crunched and you snapped your gaze toward the noise. Sitting up, you were surprised by what you saw.

Mikasa froze when she realized she'd been caught. She held a white blanket in her arms and still had one foot on the porch steps.

"Hi," she greeted quietly.

"Hey." Your breaths were a tad ragged from the initial scare.

She came closer to the car. "What are you doing out here so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing." You took the blanket from her arms and she pushed herself up to sit beside you.

"The door to your room was open when I came downstairs for a drink. I thought you'd be out here."

"Oh." She knew you better than you thought.

She spread the blanket over both of your laps and leaned down on the hood of the car.

She looked at the sky but your eyes were still on her. "Why did you come out here?"

After a moment of silence, her gaze finally shifted to you. "I wanted to apologize. Ignoring you was immature. Plus, I remember how you used to come out here when you were upset. Above all else, I wanted to make sure you were alright." A blush coated her cheeks when she finished talking.

You took note of that and couldn't help but blush yourself. "I'm okay. I understand why you'd ignore me, though. If you didn't want it, that was probably your only option since we have to see each other so much."

Her brows furrowed and she sat up again. "What? Y/n, did you think I didn't want to kiss you?"

You blinked stupidly. "Well, yeah."

She laughed. "You can be so ridiculous sometimes. I've always wanted to kiss you like that. I'm just not great at expressing it."

Even more heat rushed to your face. You gawked at her and she looked down at her feet. Many things were running wild in your head. For some reason, though, there was one thing that was so prominent in your mind once you remembered it.

Out of all the questions you could have asked, this one came out rather bluntly. "What did you mean in your letter? What should I know?"

Her eyes widened, she didn't expect you to ask about that yet, and quite frankly, neither did you. Nonetheless, she answered anyway. "If only you knew. That's what I wrote. That's easy to answer now. If only you knew how long I've loved you."

She turned her face and made direct eye contact with you. She seemed to know the next question on your mind. "You never knew it but I've been in love with you since high school."

That can't be right. This is a dream. You're dreaming, Y/n. What the actual fuck?

"Are you sure? Then why did you ask Jean out when we were seniors? Why did you break it off with me mere weeks before?" Your mind was racing and it translated into sentences quickly spilling from your lips.

She still looked straight at you. Her facade of confidence was making you nervous. "I'm sure. Back then, I was so afraid of what I felt for you. Pretending the feelings weren't real and projecting them onto Jean seemed like my easiest option. For years I convinced myself I loved him. But it was never him. It was always you. I felt so awful when I realized what I was doing."

And just like that, the facade fell. Her words were no longer held confidence. She was afraid of how you'd react. She had little idea that you were ready to be just as vulnerable as her.

"When did you realize?"

Looking up at the dark sky, she pushed a stray tuft of hair away from her face. She continued, sighing softly before she spoke, "When I saw him that night with Marco, I was relieved that I didn't have to be with him anymore. When I tried to figure out why that was, I could only think about you. Every feeling that scared me before came back. I got so scared that I left. But, even then, they never went away."

You were having some trouble believing that this was actually happening. Mikasa loved you back this entire time. If she hadn't kissed you before, you would've thought this was only possible in your dreams.

However, things were actually starting to make sense. That whole time it was your fault. Every night of those two years you spent wondering about what you could have done to make her stay. It turns out you did enough. You were the reason she left. 

But maybe you were the reason she came back as well. You could recall something Jean had told you a day before she came home.

"Why did you come back? You needed to do something?"

She looked back at you again. "I've just done it," she said.

Before you could process her words, she was leaning closer to you. Her lips were so close to brushing yours but she paused before they could fully touch. "Can I?" she whispered.

"You don't even have to ask."

When she kissed you, you felt everything. Her feelings, your feelings. The world was minuscule compared to you two. Anything else meant nothing at that moment.

It was the first time in a long time that you felt fully complete. You were a puzzle and she was the missing piece. It was like before, only this time, you knew for sure what you wanted.

Pulling away, you managed an, "I love you too, Mikasa." 

There were no other words that would feel so good to finally say out loud.

Everything was clear. You understood. 

Now more than ever, you wanted to be with her.

posted: 9/26/21

neptunetheplanet7© 2021

no reposts, edits, or modification to my work by anyone other than me.

#aot fanfiction #band au #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x reader #mikasa x you #modern au #snk fanfiction #attack on titan

[suchalonelysunflower]

The Greatest Thing You’ll Ever Learn is to Love (A.I)

Pairing: Ashton Irwin X fem!Reader 

Request: Yes!

Summary: Ashton is trying to propose, but fate’s not putting it easily 

Warnings: Smut, oral (female recieving) unprotected sex in a stablished relationship (wrap it before you tap it, please) Language, maybe a few grammar mistakes (English is not my first language, I’m sorry)

Word Count: 5.3 k

Author’s Note: Requested by the lovely Lizza @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof 💕 is my very fisrt attempt to smut writting (I literally have no experience with this) so please be kind. Reblogs, comments and feedback are always welcomed and encouraged so please, I would love to know your opinion 😊 You can find the rest of my work HERE. Hope you like it and Happy reading  ✨🦋

@iknowyouthinkimbulletproof​​ :  hi, i hope i'm not bugging you (wow didn't know my social anxiety shows so much) , i wanted to ask if you could write some fluffy smut with ash or mikey. maybe they just got engaged or something. lots of love - lizza

Everything was going according to plan. At least that’s what Ashton thought 5 min into the date. 

“What do you mean there is no reservation?” He asked the host, as calmly as he could. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Irwin. But I have no reservations under your name for tonight” Said the lady, trying to avoid any conflict “I do have one for the 24th but for the next month” 

Ashton wanted to slap himself in the face. Did he really make the reservation and messed up the date?! Tonight, out of all nights, it had to be tonight. His mind was racing like the Lightning Mcqueen himself, trying to find any kind of solution for this inconvenience.He had to find a way to stick to the plan, even if the first step was already ruined. 

“Is everything okay, Ash?” A voice snapped him out of his head. 

Ashton looked at you and his eyes softened when he felt your delicate hand on his arm, he was thankful for this little comforting gesture you always do when you notice he was starting to get frustrated. He gave you a reassuring warm smile as he interlocks his fingers with yours. 

“Yeah,” Ash said, thanking the host and guiding you out of the fancy restaurant onto the busy LA streets. “I'm just an idiot who can't tell June from July appart” He sighed. 

Your mouth became a thin line as you tried to hold back the laughter. “Oh no, baby…” You said, barely holding in the giggles. Ashton rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, let it out” He said as you burst out laughing in the middle of the sidewalk. Ashton briefly stops, but you kept on walking, allowing him to pull on your hand and make you turn around until your chest hit his “Well, now you´re just being mean” He pouted as you started giggling again. 

“Aww I´m sorry, baby” You said pecking his lips “But that's what you get for always teasing me about not remembering dates” 

“Yeah, I guess I deserve that” He sighed “You're not mad?” 

“Why would I be?” You frowned confused. 

Ashton looked at the floor, his hand still intertwined with yours as he played with your fingers. He didn’t try to hide his disappointment. 

“Because! We’ve been waiting for this date for a while now and you spend a lot of time getting yourself all ready and gorgeous to go to that fancy restaurant and I just ruined by getting all wrong from the beginning and-“

“Ash!” You interrupted him, cupping his face in your hands and making him look at you “Nothing’s ruined and the date isn’t over! Maybe it was fate… think about it! I bet that restaurant didn’t even have fries and I’m seriously craving some right now” Ashton chucked “The important thing here is that I get to spend time with you, so as long as I do, I don’t care if it is in a five star restaurant with minuscule portions of overly priced food or in a McDonald’s parking lot” 

Ashton looked at you and all he could see was how your eyes crinkled with your smile. He swears that if he were to die in the next 10 seconds then he would die a happy man, because your smile would be the last thing he’d see. 

This was just a minor setback, he thought, just one piece of his plan that didn’t exactly stick to it, but he still had all night. 

“I love you” He said, smiling as he brought his lips to yours. 

“I love you too, baby” You responded, stepping back and tugging on his hand “But first, fries” 

Ashton laughed, letting you guide the way to the closest fast food restaurant. And as he felt the weight of the small velvet box on his pocket, he knew that you were right, as long as he was with you, then everything would be okay. He only hopes the rest of the night goes according to plan. 

In a matter of minutes, you and Ashton were sitting on the sidewalk in your fancy clothes eating fries and milkshakes, laughing and joking around without a single care in the world. Your head was resting on his shoulder as you both saw cars and people pass, trying to create narratives with complete strangers and laughing at the absurdity that came out of each other's mouths. 

With every passing second, Ashton was even more sure about his decision. He was looking at you while you wondered aloud about the possibility of fate and he couldn't believe his luck. It seemed like yesterday where he got the nerve to ask you out on a date, palms sweaty as he blurted out the words, holding his breath until you smiled at him and said yes. He's hoping that tonight you would do the same. 

Your words drift away in his head as he starts daydreaming about your future together. He can see you standing all in white in front of him, a house with a lot of rooms to let your friends crash whenever they needed to or to fill with toys for your children, oh he can't wait to start a family with you, knowing that that's what you want too, eventually, maybe in a few years. Or maybe not at all? You could´ve changed your mind and that would be alright by him, after all if he has you then that's all he needed. But maybe you don't want him anymore, maybe you changed your mind completely. What would you say then? Is he rushing this? You talked about this before, but you could still say no. Would you say no? You have all the right to do so. Oh God, is he ruining this by asking you? Would you break up with him? Wh-? 

“Ashton?” 

Your voice pulls him out of the trance, just like it did the first time he asked you on a date. 

“Hmm?” He hums. His eyes find yours and it's easy to spot the worry in them, the anxiety of it all is consuming him, but he can't let it show. 

“Where'd you go?” You chuckled, knowing he was in a different headspace. 

“I'm right here” He said, sliding his thumb against your lip to clean a bit of ice cream that was left forgotten,  pressing his lips against yours right after. 

He knows he shouldn't overthink this instead of enjoying this moment with you. He loves you and he knows you love him, that's all that matters, that's all there is to care. You belong together and if fate wants it, then you´ll be together for all your lives and he wants nothing more. He couldn't be more grateful when he's holding you like that, kissing you like that. With you, he feels like home. You are like a dream come true. 

He pulled away after a while, giving your forehead a little kiss and staying like that. You smiled.

“Not that I'm complaining,” You said, lifting your gaze to meet his eyes “But are you okay, baby? You seem… off” 

Ashton just smiled and nodded “I´m good, love. Just thinking,”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Maybe later.” He chuckled, getting up from the sidewalk and offering his hand for you to the same “Now, are you ready for step two?”

“Ooh, there's more?” You teased, locking your fingers together as you walked side to side. 

“I want you to have the best night of your life, dear” Ashton said, pulling you closer. 

“I already do! Every night that I have you with me is the best night of my life” You leaned closer to whisper in his ear “Where I can have you all by myself,” You bit his earlobe quickly, wanting to tease him just enough. 

“Careful, princess” Ashton warned in a low voice “Don't want to start something you don't intend to finish. We still have a long night ahead of us ” 

“Oh, I'm counting on it” 

*************************************************

“Excuse me, what?!” Ashton asked the security guard of the gallery. The man just stood there and shook his head. 

“I’m sorry son, but the exhibition is closed until next week for reparations” 

“Oh no, no no no no no” Ashton murmured, tangling his fingers in his hair “fuck fuck fuck fuck” 

He was thankful that you needed to go to the bathroom, that way you didn’t see him freak out in front of a complete stranger. 

The security guard looked at Ashton like he was crazy. 

“Are you okay, son?” 

“No!” He said loudly, but quickly lowered his voice when he realized more people were staring “That exhibition belongs to one of my girlfriend’s favorite artists, they have this whole collection of couples in different stages in life and intimacy and she just loves it so much and I already plan on asking her to marry me but the restaurant didn’t have my reservation and now the gallery is closed and I’m fully panicking because I don’t know if she’s going to say yes now that I ruined again just because I didn’t ask before coming in here and-“

Ashton was interrupted when he felt two large hands grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him slightly. 

“Calm the ef down, chief” Said the old man “You are going to have seizure if you keep rambling like that without taking a breath” Ashton closed his mouth and just stared at the man who still hasn’t let go of him “Look, you love this girl, don’t ya son?” 

“More than anything”

“You wanna marry her?”

“Yes.”

“She loves you?” 

“She does” 

“Then why the hell are you so nervous?! If she loves you and wants to marry you then just ask her! Believe me, women don’t care about the flowers or the chocolates or all that bullshit. If you are the one for her and she’s the one for you then that’s all that truly has value” The man gave a small, kinda ‘wake the hell up’ slap to Ashton’s cheek that made him blink in disbelief “Now, don’t be an idiot, puff your chest and stop being a little scared puppy and go ask her!” 

Ashton nodded, kinda weirded out by the whole interaction but still understanding everything that man said. He thanked the man for the pep talk and walked a little too fast over where you were standing. 

You had just come out of the bathroom when you saw your boyfriend walking up to you. You noticed he was a little distressed once again. 

“Hey, Ash. Everything okay?” 

“Uhh, yes? No, yeah. What?” He mumbled, trying to wrap his head on what he should do next “Sorry, it just seems like the exhibition you wanted to see it’s closed for the week” 

“Oh no,” You said in a little disappointed tone that Ashton was quick to catch up, cursing at himself for making you sad, even though it wasn’t exactly his fault “Eh okay, that’s fine. Maybe we can just hang out on the other exhibitions” You smiled. 

“Babe, we’ve seen the other exhibitions like a million times already, don’t you think it’ll be a waste of time?” Ashton carefully asked. 

“Of course not! I love them,” You exclaimed, tugging on his hand and already walking to an isle full of portraits “And besides, time’s never wasted when you’re in good company and I so happen to have the best one there is” 

Ashton returned the smile and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to peck your cheek “I love you so darn much” he whispered in your ear “Why don’t we make this a game? You give me a list of things I have to find within the gallery, since we’ve been here before you need to make it clever so we don't end the game too soon, and I’ll do the same to you. Okay?”

Your eyes lighted up at the idea of a challenge. Both of you were very competitive and you knew this was going to be one of those times where it was all or nothing. 

“What happens if I win?” You asked.

Ashton pulled you closer, his hand dangerously placed on your lower back, slowly traveling lower and lower, making you shiver under his touch “We can do whatever you want, baby” he whispered, leaving a burning kiss on the side of your ear. 

“Mmh, whatever I want?” 

“I’ll be at your mercy, my princess” He smirked. 

You grabbed him by the neck and pulled him into a kiss “Then let’s make sure I win, then” 

You exchanged phones and opened the notes app. The goal was to find ten items, it could be people hiding in one of the pictures or portraits, sculptures or random pieces of art scattered around the gallery. To prove you have them all you had to take a picture next to it or of it. Once you finished writing the list on each other’s phones, you started your search. 

You walked alongside each other, hands laced together as you took in the different kinds of art the gallery offered, stopping from time to time when one of you spotted one item on the list, making one of you take the picture while the other rejoiced in victory. 

“Hold up!” Ashton said as you passed in front of a peculiar painting “If I remember correctly… yes!” He celebrated quietly “There’s the duck with a bow tie! That means I win” 

“This isn’t fair!” You whined after taking Ashton’s picture next to the stupid duck. He had a smug smile on his face as he held two thumbs up to the camera “I can’t find the last item! You cheated!” 

“Aww” Cooed Ashton “Someone’s being a sore loser” 

“Am not!” 

“That’s alright babe, you can win another time” Ashton chucked “What’s the last item?” 

“The lady with the diamond ring” You groaned, rolling your eyes “It’s so stupid! I’ve been here before like a thousand times and I’ve never seen a painting or anything like it with a lady with a diamond ring. Diamond tiara yes, but ring?” You scoffed, clearly frustrated “Are you sure there’s a lady like that here?”

“Well…” Ashton started, but he was soon cut off by a loud, annoying sound. 

Soon enough, droplets of water started falling down the roof. The sprinkles had been turned on, meaning there was a fire inside the gallery. 

You looked at Ashton with fear in your eyes, the same fear you saw reflected in his hazel gaze. He grabbed your hand, ready to sprint out of there in a second when someone started yelling.

“Sorry! False alarm! I fell and pressed the button sorry! There’s no fire!” A masculine voice echoed through the isles. 

Ashton was livid, once again his proposal suffered a step back. How could everything get so messed up? He had everything planned and yet none of that worked. He was always used to having at least some sense of control over things but now he just felt completely helpless. Everything was wrong, everything was-

“Pfft” 

He snapped his face towards you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he saw you place a hand to your mouth, cheeks turning red from trying to stifle your laughter. But as soon as your eyes met his, you lost it completely. 

Your laughter burst through the halls, crackling at the situation “You-,” You said through a fit of giggles and snorts “Your face! You-“ You gasped for air, trying to gain some composure but failing miserably “I- we’re soaked! Look!” 

Ashton gaze followed to where your finger was pointing, finally stopping at a mirrored window in front of you. The image of both of your fancy outfits completely drenched, humid strands of hair falling on your faces and your make-up completely ruined except for the waterproof eyeliner was truly a sight to behold.

Ashton’s eyes were concentrated on your reflection the entire time. Even soaking wet you were the most beautiful piece of art he’d ever seen, your laughter filling his ears as a muse’s melody. He couldn’t wait to hear it every single day of his life. 

He joined you soon enough, his giggles resonating along yours, finally accepting how ridiculous this situation was. That’s something you love about him, his laugh. You’d never get tired of it. It was so sincere and pure, you don’t know how’d you spend so much time without that laugh in your life. 

He was truly the love of your life. You knew, as soon as you saw him, that you were done for. You remember waiting patiently for him to ask you on a date, almost giving up and asking him yourself when he blurted out the words one day, thankfully. You are so in love with him it hurts, and to know that the feeling is mutual is just… the greatest thing that could ever happen to you. 

You pressed your lips against his, both of you smiling into the kiss as your hands played with the back of his neck, training the lines of the condor tattoo. His hands quickly found their way to your waist, rounding it as he lifted you off the ground and spun you around the soaked marble floor. 

Ashton broke the kiss when he put you down once again “Wanna get out of here?” He asked, smiling. 

You nodded as you let him guide you outside the building. 

The cold air of the city made you shiver as soon as you stepped foot on the streets, Ashton quickly gave you his jacket, which was a sweet gesture even though it made no difference since it was soaked as well. 

“Let’s head back home” He said, placing an arm around your shoulders. 

“Thought you had a whole night planned?” You asked, not wanting to discourage him.

“Yeah.. but that already went to the dogs. We can’t go anywhere in this state” He chuckled, making you laugh as well “And besides, someone once told me that the most important thing is that we get to spend time together. So as long as we do that, every plan is a great plan, don’t you think?” 

You hummed softly “Must be a very wise person” 

“Very much so. And beautiful. And funny. And hot as hell…”

“Wow, really?” You asked sarcastically. 

“Extremely” 

“I must meet them someday” 

Ashton laughed and pulled you closer to him. Never wanting to let you go. 

*************************************************

The drive home was peacefully quiet, both of you content with each other’s company, the radio filled in the silence and the traffic lights gave the atmosphere an ethereal feeling. You knew this was one of the moments where words were unnecessary, one of those moments to put away in a little box and opening it for a rainy day. It was a moment of love and peace. A true treasure. 

Once you are home, you open the door as soon as Ashton stops the car, expressing your dire need of a hot shower “Can I join?” Asked Ashton as he took the key out of the engine tab. 

“Always” You winked at him. 

He chucked, making the car keys fall from his grip “Aw shit, go ahead love. The keys are in the pocket of my jacket” 

Ashton heard you mutter an okay as he bent down to grab the car keys from the floor. Realizing a moment too late that there was something else in his pocket that night. 

“Ashton…”

Oh shit. 

“A-Ash, wha-“ you stuttered, holding a little blue velvet box in your hand. 

He rushed to you, quickly grabbing the object from your hands “Oh shit, uuh” he gulped, starting to panic “I-I, fuck. I didn’t- Oh fuck it” 

In a matter of seconds, Ashton fell on one knee. He grabbed your hand delicately as he looked into your eyes. He took a deep breath and gained the courage he was trying to master since the beginning of the evening. 

“I honestly didn’t expect to do this on the porch of our house. I had everything planned. The fancy dinner, the gallery, countless other romantic activities we could’ve done tonight… as you can see nothing went as planned. I tried so hard to find the perfect moment to say this, but there isn’t such a thing. There isn’t because I know that every moment that I get to spend with you is the perfect moment. 

Y/N, I love you. I have loved you from the moment I laid my eyes on you, and I haven’t stopped since. I find myself falling harder for you everytime you smile or you laugh, god I would give anything to make you laugh every single day of my life. You are the smartest person I know and I love hearing you talk about the topics that make you happy, wishing I could be one of them. Y/N you are… kind, you are funny, you are the most patient and resilient person I’ve ever known. Baby, you are my everything and I don’t know… I don’t want to know what I’d do without you. 

I want you with me, always and forever. I want to be yours in more ways than one. I want to cherish you and be able to call you my wife, my love, my world. Everything I have, everything I am is yours. You make me a better person and you just make me the happiest man on earth just by staying by your side.

I’m yours, Y/N. In every possible way. Will you be mine? Will you-“

“Yes.” You said breathlessly through the tears. 

“Yes?” 

“Yes! Ashton, yes! A million times, yes” 

You pulled him up from the floor and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him like your life depended on it. 

Ashton cupped your face in his hands and deepened the kiss, parting your lips as you both melted to one another. 

“I love you” he said, breaking the kiss to slide the ring onto your finger.

“I love you more”

He chuckled “Not possible” 

You barely make it through the door before you are kissing him again, not being able to stand even a few more seconds without being close to him. Your heart is beating faster than ever, almost bursting out of your chest as you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling it slightly in a desperate need to have him even closer. 

“Fuck, baby” Ashton groans, cupping your ass and squeezing it as you jump and wrap your legs around his waist “You don’t know what you do to me” he said planting kisses all over your jaw, marking up a trail down your neck. 

You moaned as you felt his lips sucking your sweet spot. Ashton had you pressed against the wall, his mouth clashing with yours, feeling every inch of your bodies as you battled for dominance. You let one of your hands fall and travel to where your lower halves meet, palming his growing erection and earning a low moan from him. With your other hand, you tug on his hair and whispered in his ear “Show me” 

In an instant, Ashton dropped you to the floor and picked you up bridal style, making your way to your shared bedroom. He gently put you down on the bed and kneeled down in front of you. 

He slowly started to undo the straps on your shoes, kissing your legs from your ankles to your knees in an agonizing pace before moving to the other one. 

“So beautiful..” He said, sliding his hands up your body, removing your clothes in the process. 

“Ash..” you whined. Pulling him by the collar of his shirt and disregarding it completely, bringing your lips together. You moaned into the kiss when you felt his fingers brush through your sides, leaving a burning trail of goosebumps wherever he touched. 

“Where’d you want me, baby?” He said, kissing down your body, leaving marks wherever he could, stopping just right above your hip bone. You shivered when his fingers traced along your panties, adding pressure where you needed him most “You’re so wet, my love” He whispered as he hooked his thumbs on the side of them and pulled them off completely. His fingers running up and down your folds collecting your wetness and using them as lube “All of this for me?” 

“Yes” You breathe heavily, moaning as you feel one of his fingers slip inside you. 

“What was that, Princess?” He teased, kissing the inside of your thighs. 

“All for you, Ash. All for-“ You moaned as he inserted another finger inside your hole, setting a pace that already made you see starts “Ash… please” you begged.

“Please what, Princess?” 

“I need you” 

Ashton presses his lips to your clit, kissing and sucking it as his fingers curled up inside you. Your hand made its way to his hair, fingers locking with his curls as you tugged on them, holding him in place. 

You let out a pornographic moan when his fingers brush your g spot, bucking your hips when you felt that tight knot in your stomach, but Ashton put his arm above your hips and held you down. You whispered as you felt him groan against your sex, sending vibration all over your body. 

“You’re close, aren’t ya?” Ashton said as he quickened the pace of his fingers “I can feel you clenching around my fingers, baby. C’mon, let go. Let me hear you, baby” He attached his lips to your clit once again, sucking it hard as your orgasm hit you, moaning his name as you came down from your high. 

Ashton kneeled down on the bed, bringing his fingers to his mouth “Mmh” he moaned as he tasted your juices “Baby, you’re exquisite” 

You quickly sat up as well, smacking your lips against his. Humming into the kiss as your hands started to unbuckle his pants and lowered them down just enough to palm him through his boxers, already feeling the precum leak through the thin fabric. Ashton let out a low moan at your touch, dropping his hand to stop yours.

“But-“

“Later, Princess” He said, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing it softly “I need to be inside you” 

And with that, he pressed his arm around your waist and flipped you over so you were on top of him. You quickly caught his idea as you started tugging down his pants and boxers, taking them off completely, 

“You don’t know how many times I imagined this” Ashton hissed when you speed your legs to each side of his hips, starting to grin on his cock with your bare sex, coating it with your wetness and moaning with delight “You riding me wearing this” He said, grabbing your left hand and kissing your new ring “And only this” 

Your eyes were fixed on him as you stroke his cock and lined it up with your entrance “And how was it?” You asked in a teasing tone. 

He smirked “Just like this” Ashton said, grabbing you by each side of your hips and slowly entering you until he bottomed down “Fucking fantastic” 

You moaned at the stretch, loving how every inch of him filled you up and made you feel whole. Ashton groaned when he felt your walls clench around his cock, letting you adjust to him before you started to move and setting up a pace. 

You started rocking on him, lifting your hips up and down his length as your hands flew to his chest for leverage, nails digging on his skin and leaving marks for you to trace later, a faint memory of the night that Ashton would treasure forever. Your moans grew louder and louder as you started going faster, Ashton’s name became a mantra to your lips as you started chasing your own pleasure. 

Ashton grunted and moaned praises to you, stretching his hands so he could cup your breasts in each one “So fucking right, princess” he said, squeezing your boobs while his thumbs brushed your nipples “So. Fucking. Good. And all mine” 

You moaned loudly at his actions. The feeling of him suddenly becoming too much as he lets go of your breast and grabs you by the hips once more, meeting your thrust and fucking you harder. 

“Say you’re mine” He moaned, digging his fingers into your skin, applying a pressure that will leave bruises later on. 

“Ah- a I’m yours! I’m yours” You said between your panting and your moans. Letting your upper half fall onto him, placing your arms at each side of his face as you let him take control. 

“Yeah, baby... Fuck” He groaned in your ear as he speed up the pace, feeling his release approach with yours “You’re mine. My wife. My princess. My everything.. Fuck” 

“Ashton…” You whined. 

“Come baby, come on my cock. C’mon, I’m right behind you” Ashton said, bringing his lips to yours for a messy kiss, sticking your moans as you came all over his cock. 

You felt dizzy as Ashton fucked you through your orgasm, your whole body trembling against him as he chased his own release. Ashton’s body tensed, his thrusts became sloppier as your walls clench around him, making his cock twitch inside you and filling you with his cum. 

You both sighed heavily, content in your own pleasure as you slowly started making out again. Soft kisses and touches mixed with reassuring words of love filled the room as your post orgasmic daze faded away. Ashton carefully pulled out of you and made his way to the bathroom, bringing with him a small wet cloth to clean you up, peppering kisses all over your body as he did so. 

Once he was done he laid in bed next to you, pulling you to his chest and kissing your forehead.

“You make me the happiest man on the planet” He whispered, not wanting to break the comfortable silence between the two of you “Fuck, baby. I’m so glad you said yes” 

“Was there another option?” You chuckled “Did you really think I would’ve said no?” 

“To be honest, I was a little worried you might” He laughed “It seems stupid now but I was so pissed earlier, I wanted to propose on the restaurant but then I messed up, then I thought that the gallery would’ve been a better option anyways and it ended up beign-“

“One of the best dates of my life?” You interrupted him. Ashton looked at you confused “I had fun today, Ash. I had a great time just being with you and having our own little chaos. And even if you decided to proposed at that McDonald’s I would’ve said yes regardless” You said, placing a small kiss to his lips “Though I’m still pissed about the game” 

Ashton raised his eyebrows “Oh! That reminds me,” He got out of bed and started looking through the clothes that were laying on the floor for his cellphone. Once he found it he came back up and took a picture of your hand with the engagement ring, turning to you with a shit eating grin “I win” 

“What?” 

“I found the lady with the diamond ring!” He said excitedly. You slapped him in the chest “Ouch!”

“So you did cheat!” 

“In my defense I was going to propose right there and there” Ashton said in as a matter of fact way “I was trying to be romantic” 

You rolled your eyes and curled up to him, placing a soft kiss to his chest. His arms wrapped around you and traveled along your back, caressing it softly as you drifted to sleep. 

“Y/N?” He whispered after a while. 

You hummed “Yes?” 

“I can’t wait to marry you” 

You smiled into his embrace “I can’t wait to marry you, either” 

#ashton irwin #5 seconds of summer #5 sos #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton x reader #ashton 5sos #ashton 5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin 5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #5sos fanfic #5sos fam #suchalonelysunflower #request #CALM #five seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine

[abarbaricyalp]

I looooved what you wrote for my first prompt!! I have another if you're down :D

How about Bucky starts talking about how hot/sweet/great he thinks Sam is in another language (not knowing Sam speaks it) but using an insulting tone so it wouldn't sound like he was complimenting him (possibly during an undercover mission, where Sam can't react to what he is saying) until Bucky goes on a "tirade" but really getting pretty graphic about what he wants to do to Sam or wants Sam to do to him, causing Sam to spit take or choke on his drink before Bucky catches on that he can understand and just dies on the inside until they finish the mission and Sam can respond <3 <3

Thanks again, Friend!

Always taking prompts <3

(never) Lost in Translation

Read on AO3

“Я вас любил безмолвно, безнадежно,” Bucky breathed into the cold air as he curled his fingers around the stock of his rifle and shifted his hips against the rooftop. “То робостью, то ревностью томим; Я вас любил так искренно, так нежно--” [I loved you hopelessly and mutely, Now with shyness, now with jealousy being vexed; I loved you so sincerely, so fondly--"I Loved You" by Alexander Pushkin]

“Huh?” Sam asked on the other end of the comm line.

“Just trying to stay awake, Wilson,” Bucky answered. “Maybe you can sit out here and give your mouth frostbite.”

“Give it another hour or so and I’ll warm you back up, Barnes,” Sam promised and Bucky could hear the smile in his voice, which was enough to stave off the chill for a while longer.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know who made a nest of jackets and my mom’s blanket next to my hospital bed?” Sam asked at two in the morning when Bucky slunk back into the hospital room and the mess he’d turned the two small chairs next to the bed into.

Bucky considered continuing to sulk in the shadows in silence. But it was the first time Sam was awake in nineteen hours and he was pretty fucking sick of the quiet at this point. “Sarah brought the blanket,” he said. He leaned forward to reach for Sam’s hand, curling his fingers around the bandages and splints gently.

“Yeah, but I know Sarah’s not sleeping in my room. It can’t have been so long that you felt the need to move in, man.”

“I’m not moved in ,” Bucky defended. “Just didn’t know how long it would be. And it’s fucking cold in this building.”

“Wouldn’t know.” Sam tried to shift in the bed and let out a gasp of pain.

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to move too much. Figured you could work that one out on your own, with that big ass cast around your ribs,” Bucky said. But his brow was drawn in in worry and he brought his other hand to Sam’s hip, arching it gently over the thin fabric of the gown.

Sam relaxed back into the bed as much as he could. “I hate sleeping on my back,” he said.

“Sorry, I’ll be sure they accommodate that next time your ribs are sticking out of your skin.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Maybe a little,” Bucky agreed. “You’re gonna have to get over it though. You need to rest.”

“I’ve been asleep for a day,” Sam said. “Come on, can’t you believe I miss you?”

Bucky barked out a laugh and shook his head. “No, I don’t believe that at all. And you can’t miss me anymore than I miss you. I’m the conscious one.”

Sam preened and then his eyes drifted shut. Bucky squeezed his hand gently and began to hum under his breath until the flickering of Sam’s eyes settled down. “Que ce soit dimanche ou lundi / Soir ou matin minuit midi /Dans l'enfer ou le paradis /Les amours aux amours ressemblent /C'était hier que je t'ai dit /Nous dormirons ensemble,” he sang softly. Sam let out a soft breath and finally fell asleep. [ Whether it be Sunday Monday/ Evening ,morning, midnight, midday / Whether it be in hell, in paradise, /Love-affairs look like each other. /I said to you just Yesterday: /We shall sleep together. "Nous Dormions Ensemble" "We'll Sleep Together" Louis Aragon]

“I told you to cover Torres on the left!” Sam shouted as he landed heavily on the rubble of the street.

                                                                                       “أنت تعني الكثير بالنسبة لي” Bucky bit back. “You were in more trouble than he was. I told you to get out of the air.” [You mean so much to me]

 “I’m sorry,” Sam snorted. “Are you leading this mission? Are you Captain America all of a sudden?”

                                                                           “أنت تجعلني أريد أن أكون رجلاً أفضل” Bucky muttered. “I’ve always been the one with the brain cells when Captain America’s around.” [ You make me want to be a better man.]

 “For what it’s worth, guys, I’m fine,” Torres said. “Caught the bad guys. Didn’t get eaten. Alls well that ends well. Unless this is, like, foreplay or something for you two. In which case, I want to get back to the jet before you keep going.”

“Shut up, Torres,” Bucky snapped. “There’s a---thing behind you,” he added, exhausted and confused about what it was exactly that they were fighting. Torres turned around, too slowly, to stare at the limping creature of some underwater origin and Sam ripped the shield from his back to fling at the monster. With a squelch and a groan, it toppled over and the shield bounced back to Sam’s arm.

                                                                                           “إنك في غاية الجمال” Bucky breathed and rubbed his human hand over his face, smearing ash and sweat until it stung his eyes. “Torres, do an aerial scan for stragglers. Wilson and I’ll survey damage down here.” [ You’re so beautiful]

 “Oh, no, Wilson . You’re in trouble,” Torres laughed. He clapped Sam’s shoulder as he walked past and then shot into the sky when the area was clear enough to.

“You’re too hard on him,” Sam said as he started to kick over blocks of asphalt. “He’s a trained soldier, y’know. He’s not some helpless kid.”

 Bucky snorted and kneeled down to run his metal hand through a puddle of water on the ground, watching silver ripple across the current.                                                                  “مائة قلب لن يكونوا كافيين لحمل كل حبي لك” he said, and then, “He was never trained for those wings.” [ A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you.]

 “He helped build those wings. He trained with Exo-Skeletons. The wings are in perfectly capable hands.”

“Make sure clean up takes samples of the water,” Bucky said. “I think there are organisms in there,” he said as he stood up and wiped his hand on his pants.

“How hard did you just have to work, after Torres put foreplay in your head, to not say orgasms?” Sam teased, shooting an easy, if slightly bloody grin, at Bucky.

                                                                                “أنت إشراقة شمسي يا حبي” Bucky sighed and shook his head. “Let’s get home. You obviously have a concussion.” [ You are my sunshine, my love.]

 “Hey, just ‘cause I’m funnier than you and know your depraved mind well enough to say something like that doesn’t make me damaged,” Sam said, jogging to catch up with Bucky.

“Does he talk?” villain-du-jour asked, appraising what was supposed to be the Winter Soldier but was really just Bucky bored out of his skull.

“If you want him to,” Torres said with a shrug. “Most people don’t.”

“See,” Sam said in Bucky’s earpiece. “I told you he’d kill this.”

And, unfortunately, Torres really was killing it. Torres seemed to be afflicted with the same dramatic streak that Steve had, in that Steve was everyone’s best-friend-ray-of-sunshine until shit got real. Or the mission required him to play some shady underworld super-assassin dealer, apparently.

“I heard he malfunctioned with Zemo,” unidentified baddie said cautiously. “I heard the programming had been washed out.”

Torres reached over to cuff Bucky against the back of the head. “Does he look deprogrammed? Do you think I’d be standing here if he was deprogrammed?”

Bucky had to fight not to let a glare slide over to Torres. He kept his eyes and his grimace set straight ahead. He’d feel better if there was a rifle in his hands.

“It’s not my fault Baron Zemo didn’t have the balls to control the Soldier. I assume that won’t be a problem for you. But, hey, I could be wrong. In which case, I’ll just take him back. Putting him on ice is easier the less time he’s out.”

“I’m glad he never decides to be such a shit with me,” Sam said. The bad guy said something else and Bucky fully tuned it out. “Hey, Barnes,” Sam said in his ear. “What’re you wearing?” he teased. Bucky’s jaw jumped. “One day, we’re gonna see how quickly I can get all that tac-gear off of you. Or maybe just the top half. The rest of you looks damn good in black.”

Bucky bit the side of his tongue, listened to the asshole across the room talk about not being able to communicate to lapsed partners since he only spoke English, about wanting to send a message, about how many languages the Soldier knew and if he talked while breaking bones.

“Do you think we do better undressing each other on the jet or off of it. Sure, there’s turbulence, but we also have all that adrenaline pushing us on. Besides, I know you like things hard. You wouldn’t like me so much if you didn’t.”

“Soldier?” Torres said at his side. “A sample of your voice.”

“ I’m gonna throw my partner across that table as soon as we kick all your asses ,” he said in Russian. “ He gets pretty fucking quiet when he’s getting dicked down well. It’s actually the only time he shuts up. ”

The hapless moron across the room looked delighted. “What about French?”

“ You’d think getting him down on his knees would work better but it never has for me. He’s always gotta have the last word in edgewise. Lengthwise, as it may be. No fuckin’ hair to grab onto either. You’ve just gotta listen to him .”

“Spanish?”

“ Probably won’t stop in here. I’ll drag him back to our jet and do it all over again. Or let him do it to me. I’m really not picky when it comes to him. Especially not when he’s wearing the uniform he is right now. I like getting it off of him as much as I like how it looks on him .”

“ Damn, dude, I speak Spanish ,” Torres hissed back in Spanish. “ Spare my ears, please .”

The arms-idiot grinned like a kid on Christmas. “Yeah, that’ll do. Your money’s in here,” he said, sliding a briefcase across the floor.

“Ready?” Sam asked in the ear piece.

“ We never speak of it again ,” Bucky said to Torres. “ If you tell him, I’ll drop your ass in Siberia. ”

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Torres said, gesturing over to the other man. Bucky went and got them, Sam coming down through a skylight and Torres taking care of the guards behind them.

“I was thinking about getting my own place down here,” Sam said. “Even if it’s just a one bedroom or something. You know, for when Buck’s here too.”

“Tu vas bouleverser les garçons,” Sarah answered. [You'll upset the boys]

“Huh?” Bucky asked, looking up from toying with a remote control airplane that had an unfortunate run-in with a tree.

“They’re still not in French classes?” Sam asked. “Isn’t AJ old enough?”

“He’s taking Spanish instead.”

“Traitor,” Sam said easily. “Cela n'a pas besoin d'être codé.” [This doesn't need to be encoded]

“Votre vie sexuelle fait.” [Your sex life does]

“Ha! Comme si.” [Ha! As if]

“Wait, you two know French?” Bucky asked. The airplane had been thoroughly forgotten.

“Sure, it’s one of two languages offered at our high school,” Sarah said. “Sam was obsessed with learning Creole so not only did he take French, he took AP French. And scored a five on the test. Hey, aren’t you a polyglot, technically?”

“What?” Bucky asked as dawning horror unleashed a flood of embarrassment through him. And, well, a bunch of other feelings too, which would require French to say aloud, apparently. He packed those away.

“I don’t know if there are qualifications, but I speak a few languages,” Sam agreed and he finally looked over at Bucky with a smirk. “English, French. A little Spanish. The Air Force gave us Russian lessons. I picked up Arabic overseas.”

Fuck, Bucky though. Merde. Maldita sea. Черт побери.

“He absorbs languages like a sponge,” Sarah said to Bucky. “AJ is pretty similar,” she added towards Sam. “His teacher says he’s the best in the class.”

“Of course he is,” Sam said. “He’s a Wilson.”

A timer went off and Sarah muttered lightly under her breath. “I’ve got to run and grab Cass from school. Can you stay here and get AJ off the bus?” she asked, already grabbing her purse and heading for the door.

“Bye, Sarah,” Bucky called after her before rounding on Sam as the door shut.

“Hey, you never asked,” Sam defended, leaning back against the counter. “And it never sounded like you wanted an answer when you were serenading me in French. Gotta wonder why you’ve got Russian poetry memorized though--Hey!” Sam yelped as Bucky crossed the living room to the kitchen and stood between his legs, hands on either side of his body on the counter.

“Ты должен был сказать мне раньше,” he breathed. Sam shivered against him. [You should have told me sooner]

“Pourquoi?” he asked, like he was in any way innocent. [Why?]

Bucky brushed his mouth along Sam’s neck, felt his pulse jump at the contact. “Tu sais ce que ça me fait,” he murmured. [You know what it does to me]

“Languages?” Sam asked as his hand found the small of Bucky’s back and then the rest of his spine, up to his shoulders, the seam of his metal arm, his ribs.

“You showin’ off,” Bucky corrected.

Sam hummed because he did know that. “It was more fun to watch you think you were getting away with something. You get real sweet when you think I can’t hear.”

Bucky nipped at his collarbone and Sam gasped out a breath, almost let it convince him to leave Bucky there, but eventually pushed him away. “I was serious about getting our own place. I will never emotionally recover if one of the kids walks in on me making out with you. I’m supposed to be typifying standards.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and pinched Sam’s side. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, but a smart one,” Sam said with a grin. “Which is apparently your type.

And, dammit, it was.

“By the way,” he added, “Clint taught me ASL, so I know what you tell him about me too.”

Bucky groaned and threw himself back over the couch.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #the falcon and the winter soldier #fanfiction #writing #anonymous #i answer things #winterfalcon

[likeshipsonthesea]

I dare you to post their get together from chowder's perspective because you're an amazing and magical writer and I'd love to read it at any level of editing

well u did dare me :P inspired heavily by this post

the thing is, chowder really, really loves his new friends.

nursey is so cool and funny and nice and he knows all this poetry that sounds so cool and he always saves chowder a piece of pie when he isn’t there and bitty’s on a baking binge, and he helps chowder write Important Emails and doesn’t even complain when chowder asks him about the exclamation point in the third paragraph for the fourth time

and dex is really smart and has a dry sense of humor and he cares so much about people even when he pretends he doesn’t, he does his laundry when chowder does and lets chowder match all the socks while he folds both of their clothes with like retail level precision and he’s great to sit and work on coding with and never gets upset when chowder interrupts him to ask him why a certain part isn’t working right and he helps bitty make him soup and pastries when he gets sick right before finals week their frog fall semester

and they’re both swawesome at hockey, they do their very best to keep the dirty puck away from his net, and they are such swawesome people and literally the only thing he doesn’t like about his new friends is how adamant they are about not liking each other

he tries, at first, to correct their complaining when they come to him. “the guy refuses to listen to anyone who isn’t himself,” nursey groans, muffled, because his face is pressed against chowder’s pillow, and chowder very kindly explains that dex is a bit stubborn sometimes but he always listens to chowder, even when he has a differing opinion, and when dex wraps himself in chowder’s duvet like a burrito and grumbles out, “he acts like he’s chill all the fucking time just to fuck with me,” chowder says that nursey acts like he’s chill even when dex isn’t there and also, why do you think he’s acting?? i think he’s just that chill

but as time goes on he realizes that neither of them believe him because they haven’t seen it for themselves and, look, he could try and orchestrate some plot where they secretly see one another being good people and miraculously change their opinion about each other and they all become a happy trio of friendos with no animosity at all, but chowder is also an ncaa athlete, a stem major, and someone who likes to party a fair amount. he’s got no time for that kind of bullshit.

and so they go through spring term and things aren’t greeattt all the time and sometimes nursey and dex get into screaming matches on the quad and chowder just has to pretend like he doesn’t know them, but most of the time it’s good, it’s fine, and he really does love his friends.

then they lose the frozen four, something happens that neither of them will tell him about, and the fuckers go and gang up on him

it seems, after all the times chowder told them about how they’re both funny and good at hockey and passionate about school and all the other things they have in common, they decide instead to bond over their mutual love of chirping their very best friend in the whole wide world.

to be honest, he’s just glad they’re getting along.

and they still show up at his room all hours of the night and day to burrow into his bed and complain about each other, but at least now chowder lives in the haus and he can eat pie as he pretends to listen to them.

and maybe he starts noticing how some of the complaints aren’t necessarily the kind of thing you’d expect, like “how are his eyes so fucking green, it’s impossible to win an argument when he’s staring at you” or “have you seen how many freckles he has after summer break?? he’s like one giant freckle, it’s unfairly distracting” and despite not really paying attention, he starts to notice when the tone of complaining changes from i hate this guy to i hate how pretty this guy is

he never brings it up. once again, he does not have time to try and get his two best friends together on top of all his other responsibilities, but he notes it down anyway. for being-a-good-friend-purposes. like when ransom sets nursey up with a girl on the volleyball team, chowder spends the whole night watching monty python movies with dex on the couch, and kindly ignores the relief in dex’s shoulders when nursey shows up to breakfast the next day and relays that the date was a bust. and when they’re doing workouts at the gym, chowder very deftly navigates nursey away from the weights when dex is using them to spare him from turning into a mumbling mess at the sight of dex’s arms

and maybe he notices when they start becoming more self aware and the complaining-about-appearance becomes complaining-about-good-things, like nursey saying, in the middle of a rant, “you know he’s fixed betsy like fifteen times in the past two weeks? how the fuck can you fix an oven fifteen different ways? that’s insane” or when dex pauses his recount of nursey’s ridiculous chill behavior to mention, “he’s been editing ransom’s thesis because he knows how much ransom stresses over grammar and he’s like, really good at it”

and it’s probably at this point that chowder breaks the bro code and tells farmer all about his dumb friends and their dumb mutual infatuation, because lbr here the boy cannot handle all this pining on his own. “they’re in love with each other but they think it’s hate”

“i know, i know” farmer soothes, running her fingers through his hair

“why are boys so dumb” chowder laments

farmer, who is currently wearing her best bra and pantie set under her clothes, sighs deeply. “i don’t know,” she says, equally forlorn.

then, well, then the dib flip happens and nursey and dex are literally shoved together and either one or both of them -- chowder has an inkling that it’s dex, but he’s not sure -- seems to freak out and neither of them comes to his room to complain for the rest of the term.

and then chowder has the greatest summer of his life, his former captain wins the stanley cup, and bitty and jack get to kiss on center ice, and chowder gets to attend a training camp with the falcs and jack and he’s on the ice with twenty stanley cup champions and chowder doesn’t come down from this high until he shows up at the haus and finds out that something has gone horribly wrong.

despite the frequent texts, calls, and facetimes, dex and nursey didn’t seem to have as great summers as they’d made it appear. they don’t really tell him directly -- that’s another thing they have in common, never talking about their emotions plainly -- but from what chowder can glean from what they do tell him, is that dex’s family seemed to take jack and bitty’s coming out as evidence towards dex’s queerness and they were dealing with it... less than great, and nursey’s parents had a fight and had since been jettisoning around the world for “work” in an attempt to avoid one another and, as a result, nursey

the living together thing goes.. not swawesome. chowder is obviously disappointed that he no longer has his two best friends just a bathroom away, but after dex moves into the basement, both nursey and dex start coming back to his room for complain sessions again and it’s -- chowder wants to say it’s a good sign.

it starts out mostly complaint complaining, the familiar stuff from their frog year, but slowly but surely as the year goes on the old “his fucking hair” and “he literally helped a little old lady carry her groceries to her car” come back into play and chowder lets go of some stress he hadn’t realized he’d been holding

“they’re going to make me go gray before i’ve even hit 25,” chowder says, another night when he’s complaining to farmer, and farmer says, “you’d look sexy as a silver fox,” and, well. the rest of the night is spent very much not complaining

senior year, they’ve got an ncaa championship under their belt and dex is the captain. he stops coming to chowder’s dorm, probably out of some sense of loyalty to his team that chowder finds both ridiculous and sweet. nursey seems to have no qualms complaining about his captain, on the other hand, but soon even the thin veneer of complaining he’d covered all his pining with has washed away.

“he’s so good with the baby frogs,” and “never tell this to another living soul, but his cherry pie is even better than bitty’s,” and, one memorable night, “do you think i’m in love with dex?”

it’s after sunset, the world dark outside chowder’s window but he’s not exactly sure of the time, and nursey’s lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and he looks -- chill. he doesn’t always look chill anymore -- looking back, chowder can admit that maybe the ever-present chill from their frog year had been more a show than anything else -- so this chill means something important, chowder thinks.

chowder thinks, smiling a little, that nursey is finally ready.

“of fucking course i think you’re in love with dex,” chowder bursts out with the frustration that’s a by-product of having patience for three and a half fucking years. “you’ve come into my room at all hours of the day since we were freshmen to complain about how pretty his freckles are, you’ve been in love with the dude for years, and i’ve had to sit here and deal with all of it.”

nursey’s staring at him with a slightly open mouthed, wide-eyed expression.

chowder gathers his poise and then says, very calmly, “yes.”

nursey nods, once or twice slowly and then picking up speed. “wow. okay.”

“i’ve been holding that in for a while.”

“i could tell.”

“hmm.”

a stupid, hopeful, optimistic part of chowder thought that would be the end of it. nursey realized he’s in love with dex, he’d tell dex, and they’d be all stupid and gross and finally chowder would get them back for years of fines.

but nothing seems to change. nursey still comes in and ostensibly complains while pining and dex still doesn’t, instead apparently baking away his frustration (and it’s not like chowder’s going to complain about that) and really, chowder should’ve known these two idiots would need more than a few sentences to get over their combined stupidity

it comes to a head a week before graduation. never let it be said that chowder’s friends are anything less than Dramatic Fuckers

he’s helping dex pack away everything he won’t need in the next few days so when he and nursey leave for new york after graduation there won’t be much to do. he finds a random green beanie in a drawer with dex’s workout clothes and says, “hey, where should i put this?” and dex gets the most ridiculous sappy look on his face.

he hasn’t technically been chowder’s captain since the season ended with a back to back ncaa championship a month ago, and it’s not like dex has any authority over him after how many times he bugged chowder about nursey’s nose, so it’s without hesitation and with purely dex’s best interests at heart that chowder says, “you know you’re in love with him, right?”

dex surprises him then by saying, “yeah.”

a vein in chowder’s neck nearly pops. “then why the fuck have i been listening to nursey pine about your eyelashes for months.”

dex’s eyes widen and, when he gets over the surprise elation whatever, he stumbles over some stupid explanation that captains shouldn’t date their players and it wasn’t the right time and all this other absolute crap, and so chowder does the most meddling he’s ever allowed himself to do and tells dex that he will finish the packing as long as he goes and finds nursey right this fucking second

when nursey and dex tell the story to him and farmer later -- dex blushing and nursey embellishing with his arm curled around dex’s shoulders, pulling him close -- chowder will laugh and tease them and play his part as their very best friend in the whole wide world.

but that night, when he’s gross and sweaty from packing up dex’s entire fucking room and he can’t even sleep in his own goddamned bed because his friends are being exceptionally loud just one bathroom away, he shows up on farmer’s doorstep and says, with all the sincerity in the world, “i hate my friends”

#nurseydex #dexnursey #check please #The Frogs #chowder #chris chow #dex #william poindexter #derek nurse #nursey #my writing #sort of fic #ficlet #ramble fic #i tried to balance it between being a nurseydex fic #and being from c's perspective #idk i'm not usually good at that lol #but i am adamant that they all love each other so much okay #bffs for life!!!

[dalgonachan]

Kiss It Better

member: Mingyu x reader

genre: fluff with a dash of angst, live-in partners, non-idol au (?)

warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries, mentions of alcohol, suggestive content

prompt: there's no doubt his kisses were all you needed to feel a whole lot better

word count: 1735

a/n: i had a hard time choosing what gif to put so pls don’t kill me

The comfort of lying in bed lessens the throbbing pain in your head. With eyes shut and breaths evened out, you try to keep your focus on achieving the state of relaxation you need. The silence, however, only seems to amplify the throbbing; you groan through clenched teeth.

"How much does it hurt?" The sound of Mingyu's husky voice fills your ears.

You want to tell him that your head feels like exploding, that you want to bang your head straight on a wall, that it hurt so much worse than hell. Instead, the pain restrains you from saying any more than two words.

"A lot." You reply weakly.

The bed dips and you feel Mingyu shuffling by your side. His hand rests warmly on your cheek for him to caress, then it trails upwards to your hair and runs his fingers through it. You let out a shaky sigh as you relished in the gentleness of his touch. Somehow, it helps you tolerate the headache.

"My poor baby," Mingyu mutters before placing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

"May you feel better soon, (Y/n)."

His hand stops to rest on your shoulder and you feel him scoot closer to press your foreheads together. A small smile forms on your lips, an expression that showed your content towards Mingyu's sweet little action. There was no doubt he had a healing kiss because, at that moment, you could feel the pain slowly subsiding.

Hot oil spatters out of the pan and lands on your arm, the brief scalding sensation making you yelp and hop away from the stove. Earlier today, you had asked Mingyu if he could teach you to cook which he immediately (and enthusiastically) complied. Now, he was laughing at you for being too afraid to come near the stove after being exposed to minuscule droplets of oil and a harmless burn.

"Stop laughing at me, you little shit!" You barked, but he only cackled even louder. "That actually hurt! I don't understand how you're able to withstand it."

"You're just weak." He teased and you glared at him. "Now come back here, you little shit. We're not done yet."

You shook your head and backed away. "Nuh-uh."

"Quit being such a scaredy-cat." It only took Mingyu a single stride for him to reach your arm and tug you back to his side. "You're all grown up already. You need to learn how to cook so that you can feed yourself without needing anybody's help."

"But it's so hot and my arm still hurts!" You whined, pouting at him while pointing at the spot the oil had hit.

"(Y/n), I literally don't see anything wrong with it." He said as he took you by the wrist and examined your arm.

"But it hurts." You insisted.

With an exasperated sigh, he pulled your arm next to his face and grazed his lips over the skin you claimed to have gotten burnt before turning to you and grumbling, "You're such a baby."

You flash him a cheeky grin. "But I'm your baby."

Sometimes, his kisses were all you needed even when unnecessary.

It takes a while before you finally decide what you're in the mood to wear. Grabbing your clothes, you toss them onto the bed while shutting the closet doors when—

"YAAA!" Mingyu jumps out of hiding and scares you shitless.

Startled, you shriek and accidentally bump into the closet. You don't need the loud thud to tell you how hard the impact was because you've already fallen to the floor while cradling your knee.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?!" Mingyu hurriedly gets down to your side, regret and worry on his face as he looks down at your writhing figure.

"You fucking son of a bitch, do I look like I'm okay?!" You yell and it takes everything in you to stop yourself from slapping him. "I'm going to get a bad bruise and it's all your fault!"

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for you to get hurt." He sounds so genuinely apologetic that it washes away all your anger. "I'm going to get some ice. Just stay here, okay?"

With that, he leaves the room and you listen to the echo of his footsteps trudging down the stairs.

"I don't think I'm going anywhere, Mingyu." You mutter with a chuckle as you manage to get off the ground and prop yourself on the bed.

Lifting your leg, you observe the dark-hued discoloration beginning to bloom on your knee. The swelling pain makes you cringe and you bite down on your lip to keep from hissing. Soon, Mingyu returns with an ice pack in hand and he kneels before you to place it on the fresh bruise. The sharp coldness on the injury causes your lips to knit into nothing but a thin line on your visage.

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)." He says, looking up at you with sad puppy eyes, pouting all the while with his lower lip jutting out.

"It's alright. You didn't mean it." You shrug nonchalantly, brushing his forehead free from hair then flicking it. "Just don't do it again, you idiot."

He flinches back in surprise, then nods while grinning sheepishly. "Yes, yes. I won't. I'm sorry."

Seconds later, Mingyu lifts the ice pack away to look at the bruise forming on your skin; you grimace at the sight of red and purple clotting right below the surface. Carefully, he lowers his lips until they delicately make contact with your knee. You don't feel anything due to the numbness caused by the ice, but you're pretty sure that kiss was just as good as any remedy—maybe, even better.

Soreness; it's the first thing you feel throughout your entire body when you wake up. The urge to immerse yourself in a hot shower reels your head off the pillow, but you wince halfway through sitting up by a twinge on your shoulder. To make things worse, the supposedly short-lived pain eventually flares into a nonstop stinging sensation. Wondering what the hell was bothering you so early in the morning, you look over to check on it and discover a huge hickey just right above your shoulder blade.

Last night was a blur thanks to all the alcohol, but you can still clearly recall making love with Mingyu. His canines were something you were fully aware of, but you had absolutely no idea how damn hard he could bite. You trace your fingers over the love mark and let out a whimper, partly out of shock and of pain.

Just then, your attention shifts to the man lying next to you who's stirred from his sleep. You watch him stretch out his arms and legs as he heaves a long and deep yawn. It takes a while before his eyes flutter open and he sees you staring, a silly smile lighting up his already handsome features to greet you good morning. However, the smile drops when he sees you rubbing the area he had bitten and instantly, he's up to take a look at it too.

"Does it hurt that bad?" Mingyu asks, furrowing his brows.

"Pretty much, yeah." You try to sound as casual as possible to make him less worried about it. "Hickeys last for only a few days though, so it's nothing."

He doesn't say anything, but the disapproving frown on his face speaks for himself. Seconds later, his strong arms wrap you in warmth as he pecks the skin he had nipped the night before. The desire of a hot shower is long forgotten as the two of you retreat into the covers once again.

It wasn't supposed to be much of a big deal, yet here you were bawling your eyes out on the couch. You were caught in the pounding rain on the way home and in your rush, failed to notice that you had dropped the keyring Mingyu had given you years ago. Most people would simply shrug it off and get on with their lives, but for you, that Mickey Mouse keyring possessed great sentimental value; it served as a reminder of the time you and Mingyu celebrated your first anniversary as a couple.

Back then, he had surprised you a few days before that you were going on a trip to Hong Kong Disneyland. The sudden announcement made your jaw drop from utter disbelief, especially because of the fact that he had paid so much and you were going out of the country just to celebrate your first anniversary together. It was a one week vacation, but the events in Disneyland were the only memories that stayed with you after you left Hong Kong. You had so much fun that Mingyu decided to buy you the keyring as a souvenir and you've never stopped using it ever since... until you lost it out of pure carelessness.

"It's alright, (Y/n). Look at me, I'm not mad at all." Mingyu said, trying to console you from your distress.

"But you gave that to me on our first year together and... and... now, it's gone forever!" You wailed in between hiccups caused by ceaseless sobbing. "I probably look like an idiot for crying over a keyring, but I'm an even bigger idiot for losing it!"

Your lament makes you cry even harder as Mingyu encases you into a soothing hug. It successfully pacifies your sadness and soon enough, your bawling gradually turns into sniffles.

"Are you still upset about it?" Mingyu puts his hands on either side of your face to wipe away your tears with his thumbs.

"Yeah." You respond in a quavering voice.

"Will it be possible for me to kiss it better?" He asks; his eyes are focused on you, but you catch them flicker to your lips for a split second.

It was a simple and innocent question, yet it was more than enough to lift your spirits. You smile at him affectionately and lightly giggle. "Well, there was never a time your kisses never worked, so go ahead."

He grins mirthfully, a charming sight adorning his gorgeous visage, making you fall for him ten times over again. Without further ado, your lips touch and it sparks a feeling so magical that you melt into each other. Your heartbeat quickens the same way your breaths do and in that blissful moment, you could already feel him curing you of melancholy.

#seventeen #seventeenimagine #seventeen scenarios #seventeenfluff #svt #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen kim mingyu #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #kpop imagines #fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #genderneutral

[certainempatheticturkeymuffin]

I'm one of the fortunate ones in this whole situation. My mom had a friend that had power when ours went out. We lived in Kentucky for a few years so my mom knew to keep the faucets dripping. When the friend's water went out, our power came back on. My mom stocks up on water bottles religiously because she doesn't like the taste of the tap water here. She gave the friend some water and we went back home. Our pipes are fine, our car is fine, and now all we have to deal with is the Boil Order and our water coming on and going off again.

The first day (Sunday) wasn't too bad. My mom had planned ahead and all was good. She saw the forecast and refused to let me outside to touch the snow. She figured we'd be snowed in for a while and bought a bunch of food so we wouldn't have to leave. The car was completely iced over and it was so cool. I hadn't seen so much snow since I lived in Kentucky, and I was about four or five at the time. My mom had wanted to do some last minute errands to get some more water and an ice scraper. We broke ice off the windows and mirrors, and we got to play in the snow. I found great joy in punching the ice to see it crack, though it was super cool when it just slid off in a large sheet. The doors were completely frozen shut, so we had to let the car heat up a bit. Then we did all except the left back window (because no one sits there) and left. We bought a glass tile remover and used that because they don't sell ice scrapers here, and we went back home, car mostly free of ice. That night, the power flickered, but we figured it would be fine in the morning.

It wasn't.

The next day (Monday) was pretty bad. The power didn't come on, and it was freezing. We all ate a freezing bowl of cereal and took a look at the situation. We had two flashlights, and my mom knew she wouldn't be able to handle the darkness. The only problem was....our fireplace is wood burning. So, she had us bundle up and break the ice off the car (again) and use a dust pan (from a broom) to shovel a path to the car so we wouldn't track any in the house. The snow was about half an inch deeper than it was on Sunday. It was much colder on Monday than it was on Sunday too. My fingers couldn't handle the cold, and my sister and I rotating to shovel the path was horribly inefficient, so we only got about half way before my mom told us to stop because we were going too slow. Initially, I had wanted to scrape ice on the windows, but, since we don't have gloves, my hands were having a hard time gripping the scraper, eventually I begged to switch places with my mom because I hadn't even managed to pluck a single piece of ice off after a minute or so of fumbling. It didn't help. My hands were red and freezing and I'd spent only five minutes outside. I couldn't handle the dust pan very well either, and I wanted to break down and cry in frustration. I rotated with my sister, running hot water over my hands so I could feel them every time we did so. My mom saw how slow I was going and asked if I wanted to freeze, my response was "I'm going this slow because I am freezing." She had finished surprisingly quickly and we all got into the car, giving up on making a path. The roads were more dangerous than they were on Sunday, simply because there was more snow. Eventually, we managed to make it to Walmart. They had no logs. No cold food. No flashlights. So my mom bought about twelve candles. Walmart's gas station was closed, so we went to the Sam's gas station and got stuck. We struggled for about five minutes before a family came over and helped push us out of the snow. My mom was irritated that they wouldn't let her pump gas at the pump she was already at, ignoring the fact that the snow was too deep in that area to even move, and I was the only one that said thank you, but at least we were out. When we got home, my mom placed two candles in each bathroom and placed the rest around the living room/kitchen/dining room area (yes they are all one single room). We used the flames to warm our hands, and I passed out for a good four and a half hours, only waking up because I was overheating in my hoodie. I woke up at about six and my mom asked me to start the car so we could have somewhere warm to sit and eat. Thirty-ish minutes later we were in the car, warm, munching on chips and lunch meat. We were having issues with the internet, so entertainment was hard to come by and it was extremely boring, but at least we were warm. We stayed in the car from seven to eleven and went to sleep cold. The internet was very choppy, so all i have are these tweets, all made on the same day, even if two of them didn't post until the next day. I don't have tweets from any other days, except today, sorry.

The next day (Tuesday) was bad. We were freezing, and my mom had booked us a hotel, knowing that we couldn't stay without heat for too long, especially considering the fact that we didn't have wood and candles could only supply so much heat. We packed up immediately after waking up, leaving around noon to go to the hotel, even though check in wasn't until three. My dad was nagging us, trying to get us to make the two hour drive to San Antonio to stay with him, which was definitely a "No" considering the state of the roads. We told him we were staying at a hotel, I told him which one, and he called them for us. They were overbooked. My mom was not pleased, and, after double checking, tried to find a solution that wouldn't force her to drive two hours to my dad's apartment. All the hotels in the nearest cities were booked. So my mom called her friends and luckily one of them had power and water, and two extra rooms, and she lived five minutes away from the hotel parking lot (though the actual trip was about double that because of the snow). We all decided to stay in one room, because it kept that one room warmer and we didn't want to impose. We went back to the apartment to get a cot, because Miss Sabina had an air mattress, and we got all settled in. The room had carpets, but the pets weren't allowed in, so we were fine. I have a severe allergy to most animals that aren't reptiles or amphibians, fur and feathers are real bad, and Miss Sabina had two cats and a dog. It was fine though. Maybe half an hour after settling in, my mom got a call, the hotel had a booking canceled and offered us the room. We didn't want to go through the trouble of getting everything back in the car, so we declined it. My mom set up her computer to do school work (even though she works from home, the set up is so convoluted that she'd rather use her PTO than have to try taking it apart and setting it up again), and we were all set. The cage thing we put the cot on was really uncomfortable, so I ended up putting the thin cot on the floor, because even though my hips jutting into the ground was uncomfortable, being able to feel all the metal supports of the other thing was way worse. We went to sleep, warm.

The next day (Wednesday), my mom got an email that the apartment complex had shut off the water, but all was fine in Miss Sabina's house. I did learn that we only own one salt truck and only the bridges were salted. We don't own any plows, and the people on the budget committee(i think that's what it's called) don't want to allocate any money to plows or salt trucks because this storm was apparently just a fluke. Miss Sabina works with the city btw.

The next day (Thursday), Miss Sabina's power started flickering, but it was fine. I was apparently on my period, I didn't realize it because I always get a brownish discharge after it ends and theoughout most of the year, even though it's usually in lesser amounts and usually doesn't have drops of red. I definitely noticed when my pants and underwear were stained a dark red the morning of Thursday. It was inconvenient. That would've put me on my period for a straight eleven days. It was annoying.

The next day (Friday), the water was shut off in Miss Sabina's house. We checked our apartment, because finally the roads weren't completely covered in snow, and the water was still off, but the power was back. Twelfth day on my period.

Today (Saturday), we packed up and left Miss Sabina's house. Our water comes and goes, but my mom managed to buy a pack of bottled water that'll last us a while if I control how much water I drink (I usually drink a lot). I took advantage of the water being back and managed to finally take a poo, because one does not poop in another persons house, not when you're me, anyway. My stomach feels better now, and maybe I'll actually manage to eat something more than half a serving. I'm glad the heat's back, even if the boil order is going to be annoying, and the lack of water, but we're doing fine compared to many other people. My dad's fine, my brother and grandparents haven't called, and my best friend lives in Nevada and is unaffected. Thirteenth day on my period.

I'm so happy I was this lucky, but I'm definitely not getting caught dead in this situation again. When I graduate, I don't care if the northern states are better prepared for this, I'm going to hoard everything to make sure I'm not blindsided by this again. And maybe I'll invest in mittens.

I would like to say "fuck you" to both Ted Cruz and my period, because I was so happy to have a lighter period than usual, and it went and fucked up by extending to two weeks (at least) instead of lasting the normal miserably heavy four days.

#texas winter storm #winter storm #how i survived the texas winter storm 2021 #2021 winter storm #texas #my story #winter storm 2021

[leftbouquetfestivalus]

this is a little sample of my book i hope some of you like it i just posted the cover of my book

SCANDALOUS

by Danni Hawkins

 

CHAPTER ONE

I'm sitting in class waiting for the last bell to ring.

I cannot wait until class is over., I look down at my watch. Fiftteen more minutes left until school is over. Why can’t this class can’t just hurry up?

I’m tapping my nails against my desk. I didn't realize how loud I was tapping my nails until Miss Gale call my name.

“Winter” Miss Gale yells my name, and I look up at Miss Gale. her.

Miss Gale is the assistant teacher who complains over every little thing. “Can you stop tapping your nails against the desk?

“"So I can't tap my nails against the desk now?

“You can, but I thought you would have a little more Respect when your classmates are doing their work. Can you try to care about other people besides yourself” she said with an attitude.

This bitch is worrying about me tapping my nails against the desk when the whole class is making noise.

I stand up. “I do care about other people. Who do you think you are?

Miss Gale picks up her head and looks at me. I am about to say something rude that will put me in detention, but I keep it to myself.

“Winter, are you done making a scene?

“That was no scene, but I will show you one if you’d like me to".

Miss Gale picks up her head and stares at me.

“Winter, one more disrespectful comment, and I will send you to detention and call your father.”

“Okay, call him. He's never home anyways.” Now everybody is staring at me.

“I'm warning you, Winter. You’re skating on very thin ice.”

“That’s okay. I know how to ice skate.” I have the whole class dying laughing.

Miss Gale takes a deep breath. “Know what, Winter. I'm going to take a walk. When I come back, I hope you have controlled your mouth.” Miss Gale walks out of the classroom, and I just roll my eyes at her, take a deep breath, and sit back down slowly in my seat.

My name is Winter Juliana Marian Marino. I live with my dad, Marcus. He's a lawyer. My mom, Diane, left us when I was younger because she chose her stupid career over us. Well, that's what my dad told me. She never once picked up the phone to call us. No letters, no “Happy birthday”s, no nothing. That’s the least she could do.

I don't get how a mother could leave her family like that. We were happy. They argued like all married people do, but the way they looked at each other… Nobody could fake that. It was nothing but love. I remember when Diane would hold me in her arms for hours and never let me go and kiss me all over my face and read me to sleep. What was so bad that she packed her bags and left? How many arguments did she have in her head before she decided she couldn't take it anymore? Or did she just leave and never look back?

My mom met my dad when he was moving from Italy to New York. Marcus used his Italian accent to hit on Diane. He claimed he was lost. That was a lie; he knew perfectly well where he was. What female doesn’t like a man with an accent? Of course she fell for his charm. The rest is history.

Marcus is Italian. He has big, green eyes, blonde hair, and a porcelain skin complexion. Diane is Trinidadian with a chestnut skin tone and short, curly hair. I think half of her hair was weave. My older brother Rome and I have caramel skin complexions and green eyes. Rome keeps his hair gelled up and spiky, and I have long, dark brown, curly hair. I prefer my hair straight, and it usually takes up to an hour to straighten my hair every day. I have my mom's curvy figure. The boys at my school say that my figure can cause car accidents. Idiots! Who makes up these dumb pick-up lines, and who’s dumb enough to fall for them?

Every boy at this school tries to get with me but never succeeds. It’s just not happening. They’re just not my type, and it’s a waste of my time.

My older brother Rome is away at college. He goes to the University of Miami. I miss him a lot. When he used to attend high school before I enrolled, every female wanted him. He's not even cute, but his name still travels around. Like, get over him; he's not even thinking about you.

I don't see the attraction these females have for him. The things he does are total turn-offs. He eats with his mouth wide open, and you can see all his food mashing up together. That's just plain nasty! Like, close your mouth.

Caridad's dumb ass walks into class. She’s always late. Walking behind her are her dumb butt-lickers. She's just mad I won't lick her butt like they do. She sits right in front of me. She turns around in her seat to face me. She stares at me and smiles like I just amused her, and she flips her hair. I personally believe Caridad is jealous of me because I don't take her crap, unlike her butt-lickers. They do everything she tells them to do. It's like they don't have minds of their own. It’s sad to watch. I stand up to her; I will never let someone like Caridad boss me around and treat me like crap, like I'm nothing. That will never be me. If I have something to say, I will say it. I won't bite my tongue for anyone, especially not trash like Caridad. I'm not afraid of anybody, and definitely not Caridad. Nobody puts fear in my heart. She needs to know she cannot control everybody. Every time she gets some type of attention, positive or negative, she shows off like she's so important. It's whatever. It's not always about you; get over yourself.

Caridad flips her hair and continues to smile and stare at me. She really has nothing better to do with herself than harass me. “Winter, I love your green contacts. What store did you buy them at?” she laughs, and so do her butt-lickers.

“Caridad, unlike you, I don't wear fake shit.”

“I do not wear anything fake.” She laughs and looks around to see if anybody is paying attention to her. Her voice gets louder so that everybody begins paying attention. “I'm all natural.” Caridad flips her hair and throws her arm in the air dramatically.

“Caridad, the weave in your hair is FAKE.” I remember when we were in middle school, I walked in the bathroom and saw her taking off a wig. The length of her real hair stopped at the beginning of her neck. “The contacts are FAKE. Everything about you is FAKE. Don't try to deny it; you will just embarrass yourself. You’re just a wannabe. Look at your fake, wannabe-bougie ass.”

"Well, I heard you were adopted.”

This bitch wants to get slapped. “You didn't hear shit about me because I'm not adopted. Caridad, keep spreading lies about me, and I…” I have to take a deep breath. “Know what, forget it. You're not even worth it. You’re just mad you're not me.”

“Trust me, Winter, I don't want to be like you.”

“Yes, you do. You try so hard to be like me. It's cute though.” I just smile at Caridad. “I think it’s adorable that you look up to me.”

Caridad flips her hair. “Please, Winter, don't flatter yourself.”

“Caridad, everybody knows you want to be just like me. You even dyed your hair the same color as mine and got the same bag as mine—even though mine is real. What, you get that bag from the 99-cent store? But who’s counting, right?” I hear someone say, “Oooh, she got you! Check mate!” Everybody starts laughing, and Caridad gets really quiet. I can tell she’s embarrassed now. She continues to insult me, but I get bored of her and ignore her.

I have one best friend, Terri-Ann. She's got a dark brown skin complexion and short, bouncy, curly hair. Every time she moves, you can see her curls bounce, too. I tell her everything. Terri is the sweetest person you can meet, but don't get on her bad side. She will make your life nothing but hell—I’ve seen her do it.

The bell finally rings. I grab my books quickly and walk out of class. I bump into Jay, almost knocking him down, but I catch him before he falls on the floor. “My bad, Jay.”

Jay is conceited, and not in the sexy way. He carries a mirror in his back pocket, and he takes it out just to look at himself. Really, who does that? He hits on every girl who gives him some type of attention.

“Did you see Terri?” I asked Jay.

“Um…no, but I saw her earlier.”

“Well, if you see her, tell her I was looking for her.”

“Okay, I will, Winter. No dance today?”

“No, not today.” I take dance lessons at a studio three days a week. I want to be a professional hip-hop dancer and teach choreographed dancing.

I drive home and walk inside. “Dad?” I call out. No answer. He's probably still at work. I take my mug that I made in pottery class out of my bag and place it with the rest of the family photos on the mantel in the living room. Marcus has removed every picture of Diane. I walk into the kitchen and make myself a sandwich. I'm really fed up with Caridad. She gets under my skin. I don't show it, but she gets me so angry. One of these days she's going to catch me on a bad day where I say, “Fuck self-control,” and fuck that bitch up.

Marcus walks into the living room.

“Hey, Dad. When you get home?”

“Around two, I think.”

“Well, I was calling you.”

“Sorry, I had ear plugs in my ears.”

“Dad, why did you have ear plugs in your ears?”

“I'm working on this big case.” Marcus is a workaholic. Ever since Diane left us, all he does is work, work, and more work. I think that's how he deals with his pain. He never takes a vacation. The last time we went on a vacation, Diane was still here. We went to Disney World.

“Dad, you need to take a vacation.”

“I know, it's this case.”

“Dad, there's always going to be a case.”

I sit on the couch next to Marcus and finish my sandwich.

Terri storms through the front door like she lives here. Anybody could rob us because Marcus never locks the front door.

Terri sits next to me on the couch. “Hello, Mr. Marino,” Terri greets Marcus.

“Hello, Terri,” Marcus says back. Marcus walks out of the living room and into the kitchen.

“O.M.G., Winter, my mom is driving me crazy.”

“What happened this time?” Terri thinks her mom is out to ruin her life.

“So I was in the dining room texting Mark.”

“As usual,” I say. Terri smiles. Mark is Terri’s head-over heels, can't-live-without-you boyfriend. They've been dating since junior high school.

“My mom came in the kitchen and said she thinks Mark and I are getting way too serious.” Terri didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“So what did you say?”

“I told her how I felt. I said, ‘Instead of worrying about my relationship, worry about your marriage. You can’t even keep Dad home.’”

“You said that?”

“Yes,” Terri says quickly, acting like what she said was nothing.

“Terri, that was harsh. What did your mom say?”

“She slapped me in the face, so I left. I should call A.C.S. on her. That’s child abuse, you know.”

“Terri, you’re sixteen years old. That is not an A.C.S. case, and you probably hurt her feelings.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“She’s your mother, and she deserves some respect.”

“I know, but she never gives me room to breathe. She’s always hovering over me. Winter, it’s like I’m suffocating. All she says to me is, ‘You'll thank me one day.’ Thank her about what? All she said was that she thinks Mark and I are getting too serious and that I’m just a teenager who can't control my emotions.”

“Do you talk to her?”

“All the time.”

“Terri, just talk to her.”

“Are you even listening to me? I always talk to her.”

“Terri, that’s not what I mean. I want you to really talk to her and make sure she hears you, not just listens to you. She is your mother, and you need give her some respect. At least she cares and didn’t leave you for her job.”

“You’re right.” Terri takes a deep breath; she doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, but then she looks at me. “I’m sorry, Winter, you’re right.”

“Don’t apologize to me; apologize to her.” I change the subject. I hate talking about my mother; it gets me upset.

“So how's Mark treating you?”

“Great!” Terri blushed. I really don’t want to know what that’s all about.

Marcus walks in the living room wearing a tacky, red, ripped apron around his waist. “Dinner time.”

We walk to the bathroom to wash our hands. My dad has cooked smothered pork chops, mashed potatoes with gravy, and string beans, as well as homemade iced tea. Nobody utters a word; the meal is so good, nobody has anything to say. I even have a second plate.

After we finish eating, Terri stands up.

“Mr. Marino, that was excellent,” Terri says, rubbing her flat belly.

“Winter used to tell me how much she enjoyed my cooking. Now, look!” I roll my eyes, and Marcus stands up.

“Well, I will see you kids later,” Marcus says, leaving the dining room.

I start to wash the dishes while Terri cleans the table. “Terri, you know you don’t have to clean.”

“I know,” Terri says as she grabs the rag out of the sink.

“Winter, can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.” Terri rolls her eyes at me, and I laugh, saying, “Okay, go ahead, Terri, and ask me.”

“Why don’t you date anymore?”

If I had known she was going to ask me this question, I would have said “No.” I look up at the ceiling, thinking, Not this again. She had asked me the same question a couple of months ago. “Terri, didn’t we discuss this already?”

Terri hands me the dishes. “Yes, but I need to keep pushing you. Look at you. You’re beautiful and popular, and you’re the captain of the dance team and, don’t forget, my best friend. Any guy would love to date you, but you shut them all down. You don't give any guy a chance.”

“Terri, it’s not all about dating. There’s more to life than guys. Guys will come and go and break your heart and some.” I smile and continue, “There will be the one guy I’ll fall in love with, and nothing else will matter. But first I want to explore, Terri. Have fun, party, go out. I’ll find a guy, but when I do I want to be ready.”

“Winter, you haven’t been dating since middle school.”

I roll my eyes; here we go, again. “Terri, stop. Please. When I start dating, you will be the first to know, so drop it.”

Terri lets out a breath in frustration and says, “Fine.” She looks down at her watch. “I better get going before my mom sends the police squad looking for me.” She smiles and kisses me on my cheek before leaving through the front door.

I head upstairs to take a nice, hot shower. I walk downstairs into the kitchen, open the freezer, and take out a gallon of strawberry ice cream. I sit on the couch pretzel-style, watching a movie and eating ice cream. I fall asleep without realizing it; when I wake up, my gallon of ice cream is all melted. Half-asleep, I head upstairs to my room to use the bathroom, and then I climb onto my bed and fall right back to sleep.

The next morning, Marcus wakes me up by shaking me awake. “Winter.” Marcus continues shaking me. When I open my eyes, he looks mad.

“Yeah,” I whine.

“Get up.”

“Give me a few minutes.” I throw the covers back over my head to go back to sleep.

“Winter, if you don't get up now, you will be late. You don't have another few minutes to sleep.”

I sit up quickly on my bed. “What?”

“I said, you don't have—!”

I cut him off. “I heard you the first time.”

“What happened?” he demands. “You were supposed to have been up and almost ready by now.” I can hear the attitude in his voice.

“I know. I know, Dad. I forgot to set my alarm clock last night.”

I brush through my messy hair.

“Winter, hurry up,” he says sternly before leaving my room.

I jump out of my bed and take a quick shower. I usually take a longer shower than this, but I'm running late. I blow out and straighten my hair quickly; it isn’t really as straight as it normally looks. I grab my brush out of my dresser, brush my hair into a neat ponytail, and curl my bangs. I put on my sliver hoop earrings—not those fake ones you buy in the 99-cent store—that fake shit is cheap. I wear the real silver earrings with the real diamonds.

I get dressed and apply my red lip gloss that makes my lips nice and juicy and plump. I make my bed; I don't usually make my bed, but what the hell? I'm feeling lucky today. I know, I know: You don’t have to remind me. Marcus tells me all the time that I take a long time getting dressed, but you have to pay a big price when you’re beautiful like me. You can’t rush perfection.

I grab my book bag and head downstairs. Marcus has already left for work. He left on the countertop my favorite blueberry muffin. I take a big bite and pour a cup of hot, fresh, steaming French vanilla coffee. I inhale the aroma and sip on my coffee slowly, so I won't burn my tongue. I grab my keys off the coffee table, and I walk out the front door. When I arrive at school, I park in the students’ parking lot.

I get out and spot Terri and Mark kissing like there’s no more air left. “Get a room!” I shout jokingly.

Terri smiles, shakes her head at me, and continues to kiss Mark. As I walk over to Terri, she breaks their kiss.

“I forgot to set my alarm clock this morning, and my dad had to wake me up. He was mad.” Mark kisses Terri on the lips quickly.

“I’ll see you later, babe,” Mark says to Terri and kisses her again on the lips. “Later, Winter.”

I just nod my head. I don’t really talk to Mark. We only say “hey” and “bye” to each other for Terri’s sake. It’s not that I don't like him; we just disagree on a lot of things that will turn into arguments, so for the love of Terri we just don't say anything to each other but “hey” and “bye.”