#SIX FEET TALL PLUS BABY GIRLS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deadless-corpse · 6 months ago

Text

I woke up around the time I usually do. Nothing special, I roll over to give my boyfriend a kiss on the forehead. It never wakes him up, it's just nice to give him a little smooch in the morning and then let him rest.

The faint glow of morning peeked through the curtains, a streak of light gave me the perfectly horrifying view of nothing beside me.

Where is he?

He's never up early, not this early. I listen very closely to the sounds of the house. Quiet footsteps soothe my very core, I audibly sigh in relief. I collapse back into the bed. The door opens, and I smile.

It's just a silly fear, nothing happened to him. He probably just got up to use the bathroom.

"You had me terrified for a minute, baby. It's silly but I thought that-"

"You're the baby one not me."

I felt my stomach plummet, I sat up instantly. "Nate?" My heart was racing in my chest. What did he do with him? How did he find me?

When we were in foster care we got split up. I always considered myself lucky for that. My brother always had teased me senseless and had found himself in the worst possible situations.

I grew to dislike him as we only really saw each other in school and often times I had to clean up after his messes. Relationships, stolen money, dap pens, you name it, it was always me who had to smooth things over. Needless to say I was glad when my adoptive parents and I moved away.

"The one and only" His voice was light and airy, you could practically hear the smile on his face.

"Where's Noir? What did you do with him?!" I got up from bed and walked over to him. I wouldn't challenge him to fight now... that'd be stupid but I was tempted. I was highly tempted to hit him so hard he landed six feet under.

"He went out for some fresh air. You should be asking what he did to me! How do you manage that guy? Sure he's got a pretty face and all but quite a sharp tongue - a little weird too. Good taste in men though, really. I like the bitchy ones too, you take after me."

I was clenching my fist listening to him speak, I was so close to knocking his teeth out. My nails dug into my skin and I could feel my teeth grit together. I couldn't speak to him knowing that I'd start yelling and wake the kids up with a fright.

"What's the matter, kiddo? Don't miss me?"

"Didn't and I'm starting to think I wouldn’t miss you if an unfortunate coincidence happened to you."

"Don't be so possessive, man. Nobody likes a possessive partner."

"It's not possessive I just don't like you rating him like the girls in highschool. Plus it's just weird for you to talk about my boyfriend like that..."

"You get butt hurt too easy." Nate rolled his eyes and flicked on a light switch. "But I'm not here to talk about your boyfriend. I'm here to talk about something way more important."

"Noir is important-"

"Oh go to hell! You know what I mean!" Nate shakes his head.

It was now easy to see how much Nate has physically grown in the past few years. In highschool he was lanky and scrawny, all legs really. But now he was really lean and of course still tall - something I'll never be. His dark brown hair that was at one point shoulder length and usually very unkempt was neatly gelled back and short. There was faint pricklings of facial hair on his cheeks and... was he wearing eyeliner...?

I know Noir would be livid to find out I was thinking this way but I felt the prodding of jealousy in the back of my head. He looked far better than me. Enough to make me a little self conscious. I was suddenly aware that I was visible and I did not enjoy it. Okay, maybe I was more than a little self-conscious.

"I need you to actually listen to me without getting pissed off for once." Nate says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Depends on if what you say is enough to piss me off." I rub my eyes, waking myself up a little more.

"They're right."

"Who?"

"The sisters- or- isn't it the siblings now?"

I thought for a moment, a little confused. "The Belles?"

"Yeah, they're right about elementalists."

"What are they saying about us now?" I half groan out, those two love spreading conspiracy theory type of non-sense about those with elemental powers or 'elementaists.' As an elementalist myself it makes my job a bit harder.

"It was actually a long time ago that they said this but elementalist abilities in combination hold the power to bend reality as it stands."

"Yeah but there's no proof that's true." I could hear something banging outside. I began to turn to look towards the window but Nate snapped his fingers a few times to regain my attention.

"There is proof it's true and he's right infront of me." Nate's hands gestured towards me and I looked down at myself dumbly and then back up at Nate.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I wasn't gonna let my brother die."

"You were the one who..?"

"Me and a few other elementalists, yeah... We had to do a lot of organ replacement and well.. stealing your body wasn't easy either but I think it's worth it. Minimumal scaring right?"

I pulled up my shirt to show him the long scar all the way down my abdomen, it was especially thick around my stomach. That was where Ivan had stabbed me. "That's as good as it gets, right?"

"That is one hell of a scar... but yeah best we could do little bro."

"How did you guys do it..?"

"Well I know some people, elementalists who don't mind getting their hands dirty. We had someone from fauna, lightning, water, and ice. The fauna elementalist can heal any animal, a rare ability for most fauna elementalists. Knowing about this ability I developed a hypothesis."

"Someone's finally using his brain."

"Shush you asked for the story! Anyways I theorized that if pig organs were the most similar to humans that someone's from fauna may be able to heal a human to full health if they had the organs of pig or any other animal that worked. So I gathered a group of trusted individuals to help me test this idea out. So we replaced your organs with that of animals, apart from your brain of course. The lightning elemental would have to start up your heart, and as soon as that happened the fauna elemental would have to try and heal you. The water elemental was there to replenish your blood and the one from ice was just keeping any organs on ice and your body preserved."

"If there was so many people then why did I wake up alone?"

"We all went home, we thought it was another failed attempt so I was gonna go back to the drawing board." Nate explains calmly before picking up with more enthusiasm. "But just think, if it takes just a few of us to bring humans back from the dead then how much more could we do all together!"

"I'm not getting roped up into this stuff again.. I've got people to take care of now."

Nate frowned, the corner of his lip twitching in mild annoyance. "Just think on it. Light and dark, we could do so much good together! Just- here," He handed me a card with his number and address. "I make a better business partner than brother, sorry. Just think on it a little. I'm heading out and tell your boyfriend I said I'm sorry for being a dick earlier. If you ever need like a night out for just the two of you I have a feeling I'd be a pretty great uncle to hang out with."

Nate gives a half-genuine smile, I nodded taking in what he told me. "I'll think on it, Nate. Thanks for the offer and everything and reviving me and stuff. Life has been pretty great to live."

"It had to be for one of us" Nate jokes, playfully punching me in the shoulder.

"..yeah."

He just waved over his shoulder and walked away.

A little bit later a very upset looking Noir walks into the kitchen. I had walked in there to have something small for breakfast but nothing looked particularly appetizing in the cabinets. Noir whined out the word no, stretching it out for so long I could have forgotten what he was saying.

"What's the matter?" I asked, suddenly feeling a bit concerned.

"Get back in the bed." He snapped at me, it was biteless words that made me grin a little.

"Never expected you to come onto me like this-"

"Do you want breakfast or a broken fist?"

"Fine, fine, I'm going, I'm going." I made it seem like I was gonna walk right past him and go to our bedroom but I definitely planned on a little more. As I was walking past him I quickly gave him a peck on the cheek like an impish child before speed walking away.

Noir caught up quickly with his stupid long legs and yanked me towards him by the back of my shirt. I stumbled back into his chest and he gave me a hug. He always gave such warm hugs, they were potent of comfort and unconditional love. I could feel the tension ease from my body, it was as if Nate had never came.

Then he gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. "I wanna give you a nice relaxing day so if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask, alright?" I smiled to myself, how did I end up so lucky?

"Today will be perfect if you just give me a hug whenever you see me."

"Well then, I'm going to make today better than perfect then." He gave me a gentle squeeze before letting go. "Work looks like it's been weighing on you a little too hard and I just wanna make you feel better"

"Oh hun, you always make me feel better you don't have to go out of your way."

"Yeah I do, I want to. Now go lay down in bed I'm making you breakfast."

"Fine, fine." I concede, beginning to walk off again. I pause before I read the door. "By the way my brother said he's sorry for being a dick."

"It's alright I suppose, you can't particularly change your nature."

I laughed a little and shook my head before going back into our room and laying down. Things felt a little heavier now that I was alone. The card weighs on my mind as I debate eventually calling the number.

Calling my brother was something I never considered till now.

But he might have a point...

#lore post?#chad harrison

4 notes · View notes

whatevergreen · 1 year ago

Text

A satyrical prose poem by Judy Grahn that I came across earlier (and is probably well known to some). It's funny. And grim. But very funny.

THE PSYCHOANALYSIS OF EDWARD THE DYKE

"Behind the brown door which bore the gilt letters of Dr. Merlin Knox's name, Edward the Dyke was lying on the doctor's couch which was so luxurious and long that her feet did not even hang over the edge.

"Dr. Knox," Edward began, "my problem this week is chiefly concerning restrooms."

"Aahh," the good doctor sighed. Gravely he drew a quick sketch of a restroom in his notebook.

"Naturally I can't go into men's restrooms without feeling like an interloper, but on the other hand every time I try to use the ladies room I get into trouble."

"Umm," said Dr. Knox, drawing a quick sketch of a door marked 'Ladies'.

"Four days ago I went into the powder room of a department store and three middle-aged housewives came in and thought I was a man. As soon as I explained to them that I was really only a harmless dyke, the trouble began…"

"You compulsively attacked them."

"Oh heavens no, indeed not. One of them turned on the water faucet and tried to drown me with wet paper towels, but the other two began screaming something about how well did I know Gertrude Stein and what sort of underwear did I have on, and they took my new cuff links and socks for souvenirs. They had my head in the trash can and were cutting pieces off my shirttail when luckily a policeman heard my calls for help and rushed in. He was able to divert their attention by shooting at me, thus giving me a chance to escape through the window."

Carefully Dr. Knox noted in his notebook: 'Apparent suicide attempt after accosting girls in restroom.' "My child," he murmured in feathery tones, "have no fear. You must trust us. We will cure you of this deadly affliction, and before you know it you'll be all fluffy and wonderful with dear babies and a bridge club of your very own." He drew a quick sketch of a bridge club. "Now let me see. I believe we estimated that after only four years of intensive therapy and two years of anti-intensive therapy, plus a few minor physical changes and you'll be exactly the little girl we've always wanted you to be." Rapidly Dr. Knox thumbed through an index on his desk. "Yes yes. This year the normal cup size is 56 inches. And waist 12 and 1/2. Nothing a few well-placed hormones can't accomplish in these advanced times. How tall did you tell me you were?"

"Six feet, four inches," replied Edward.

"Oh, tsk tsk." Dr. Knox did some figuring. "Yes, I'm afraid that will definitely entail extracting approximately 8 inches from each leg, including the knee-cap…standing a lot doesn't bother you, does it my dear?"

"Uh," said Edward, who couldn't decide.

"I assure you the surgeon I have in mind for you is remarkably successful." He leaned far back in his chair. "Now tell me, briefly, what the word 'homosexuality means to you, in your own words."

"Love flowers pearl, of delighted arms. Warm and water. Melting of vanilla wafer in the pants. Pink petal roses trembling overdew on the lips, soft and juicy fruit. No teeth. No nasty spit. Lips chewing oysters without grimy sand or whiskers. Pastry. Gingerbread. Warm, sweet bread. Cinnamon toast poetry. Justice equality higher wages. Independent angel song. It means I can do what I want."

"Now my dear," Dr. Knox said, "Your disease has gotten completely out of control. We scientists know of course that it's a highly pleasurable experience to take someone's penis or vagina into your mouth - it's pleasurable and enjoyable. Everyone knows that. But after you've taken a thousand pleasurable penises or vaginas into your mouth and had a thousand people take your pleasurable penis or vagina into their mouth, what have you accomplished? What have you got to show for it? Do you have a wife or children or a husband or a home or a trip to Europe? Do you have a bridge club to show for it? No! You have only a thousand pleasurable experiences to show for it. Do you see how you're missing the meaning of life? How sordid and depraved are these clandestine sexual escapades in parks and restrooms? I ask you."

"But sir but sir," said Edward, "I'm a woman. I don't have sexual escapades in parks or restrooms. I don't have a thousand lovers - I have one lover."

"Yes yes." Dr. Knox flicked the ashes from his cigar, onto the floor. "Stick to the subject, my dear."

"We were in college then," Edward said. "She came to me out of the silky midnight mist, her slips rustling like cow thieves, her hair blowing in the wind like Gabriel. Lying in my arms harps played soft in dry firelight, Oh Bach. Oh Brahms. Oh Buxtehude. How sweetly we got along how well we got the woods pregnant with canaries and parakeets, barefoot in the grass alas pigeons, but it only lasted ten years and she was gone, poof! like a puff of wheat."

"You see the folly of these brief, physical embraces. But tell me the results of our experiment we arranged for your last session."

"Oh yes. My real date. Well I bought a dress and a wig and a girdle and a squeezy bodice. I did unspeakable things to my armpits with a razor. I had my hair done and my face done and my nails done. My roast done. My bellybutton done."

"And then you felt truly feminine."

"I felt truly immobilized. I could no longer run, walk bend stoop move my arms or spread my feet apart."

"Good, good."

"Well, everything went pretty well during dinner, except my date was only 5'3" and oh yes. One of my eyelashes fell into the soup - that wasn't too bad. I hardly noticed it going down. But then my other eyelash fell on my escort's sleeve and he spent five minutes trying to kill it."

Edward sighed. "But the worst part came when we stood up to go. I rocked back on my heels as I pushed my chair back under the table and my shoes - you see they were three inchers, raising me to 6'7", and with all my weight on those teeny little heels…"

"Yes, yes."

"I drove the spikes all the way into the thick carpet and could no longer move. Oh, everyone was nice about it. My escort offered to get the check and to call in the morning to see how I had made out and the manager found a little saw and all. But, Dr. Knox, you must understand that my underwear was terribly binding and the room was hot…"

"Yes, yes."

"So I fainted. I didn't mean to, I just did. That's how I got my ankles broken."

Dr. Knox cleared his throat. "It's obvious to me, young lady, that you have failed to control your P.E."

"My God," said Edward, glancing quickly at her crotch, "I took a bath just before I came."

"This oral eroticism of yours is definitely rooted in Penis Envy, which showed when you deliberately castrated your date by publicly embarrassing him."

Edward moaned. "But strawberries. But lemon cream pie."

"Narcissism," Dr. Knox droned, "Masochism, Sadism. Admit you want to kill your mother."

"Marshmallow bluebird," Edward groaned, eyes softly rolling. "Looking at the stars. April in May."

"Admit you want to possess your father. Mother substitute. Breast suckle."

"Graham cracker subway," Edward writhed, slobbering. "Pussy willow summer."

"Admit you have a smegmatic personality," Dr. Knox intoned.

Edward rolled to the floor. "I am vile! I am vile!"

Dr. Knox flipped a switch at his elbow and immediately a picture of a beautiful woman appeared on a screen over Edward's head. The doctor pressed another switch and electric shocks jolted through her spine. Edward screamed. He pressed another switch, stopping the flow of electricity. Another switch and a photo of a gigantic erect male organ flashed into view, coated in powdered sugar. Dr. Knox handed Edward a lollipop.

She sat up. "I'm saved," she said, tonguing the lollipop.

"Your time is up," Dr. Knox said. "Your check please. Come back next week."

"Yes sir yes sir,” Edward said as she went out the brown door. In his notebook, Dr. Knox made a quick sketch of his bank.

Judy Grahn (published in Edward the Dyke and Other Poems, 1971)

#lgbtq #lesbians #transgender #psychoanalysis #psychiatry

20 notes · View notes

maeve-writes · 3 years ago

Text

Heroes

Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.

Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes.

a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?

You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.

It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers.

Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.

Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.

“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.

You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.

Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.

“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.

His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.

You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm.

While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.

The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.

Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.

When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.

“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.

“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory.

Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone.

The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.”

Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”

It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”

Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue.

The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside.

Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed.

Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged.

Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild.

“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves.

You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests.

Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.

You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.

Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”

“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement.

“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.

“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously.

“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”

“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.

You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.

“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.

He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him.

The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress.

“One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.

To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.

Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights.

Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention.

His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go.

But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold.

During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.

Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.

Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.

“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”

“Wait,” the one named “Buck” jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”

“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.

a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!

#bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x you x steve rogers #bucky barnes x y/n x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x you x bucky barnes #steve rogers x y/n x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #stripper!bucky barnes #stripper!steve rogers #stripper!au #heroes au

270 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 4 years ago

Text

pushing buttons ~ eminem

word count: 1912

request?: yes!

@thatonegirlthatlikesthings “Hi me again I literally love your writing so much omg I was wondering if you could once again indulge my Eminem obsession cuz my baby don’t get enough love🥺🥺 I was thinking like a angst/fluff where MGK tries to hit on the reader even though he’s with Meg Fox now and Em loses it and dr Dre and Paul try to call him down but it doesn’t really work and the reader has to chill him out. I love you I love your writing and I love you bye!🥰☺️❤️❤️”

description: in which his enemy tries to push his buttons by flirting with his girl

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warning: swearing

masterlist

“What the fuck is that prick doing here?”

Marshall glared at the tall blonde standing across the room with his arm around a familiar actress. It was the night of his launch party for his new album, and he thought it was just supposed to be personal friends of his as well as his friends from the industry. However, a few others from the industry had arrived as well, including the infamous Machine Gun Kelly.

“Paul invited him,” Marshall’s girlfriend, (Y/N) responded. “Said you two should try and squash the beef. Fans are getting tired of it.”

“Squashing the beef and becoming friends with the enemy are two totally different things,” Marshall hissed.

“You don’t have to be friends,” (Y/N) told him. “Just...shake his hand, look friendly for the pictures, end the beef.”

Marshall rolled his eyes as (Y/N) wrapped an arm around his waist and gave him a slight squeeze. “I know, I tried to tell Paul he should run this past you first. But him and MGK’s manager think it’s best for both of you to end the beef. He wants to move on with his new punk pop genre, you should move on too considering the fact that you absolutely destroyed him.”

She lowered her voice to a whisper for that last part, causing Marshall to smirk.

“This is gonna push me to drink,” he muttered as he noticed Kells approaching him.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” (Y/N) hissed. “If you break your sobriety, I will be your worst nightmare.”

Marshall smiled at her before dropping it to glare at Kells.

“Hey man,” Kells started. “Listen, thanks for the invitation. I know things have been rocky between us, but I hope you know I never meant any harm by my tweet about Hailie, and I still view you as a massive inspiration to me. I just thought...maybe I’d get more recognition with the diss, and it worked. It just sort of fucked up my rap career in the process.”

(Y/N) gave Marshall a quick look before sipping on the drink she had in her hand. They were both shocked by such a mature response from Kells, especially after the stuff Kells said about Marshall following the drop of Not Alike and Killshot.

She was watching her boyfriend expectantly as he processed what had been said to him. He glanced back at (Y/N) finally before saying, “No hard feelings, man. Tensions ran high, we both said some shit, I think it’s time we get past it.”

Kells smiled and offered a hand to Marshall. Although reluctant at first, Marshall took it and shook his hand. Kells soon left and went back to his girlfriend, knowing not to overstay his welcome.

“Was that so hard?” (Y/N) asked. “At least he’s being mature about it, too.”

“A little too mature,” Marshall said.

“Stop it, you just don’t like him. Let’s get a non-alcoholic beverage.”

~~~~~~

As the night continued, Marshall was pulled from (Y/N) as people kept coming and congratulating him on the album. She wasn’t too shocked, it was a normal occurrence. Luckily enough, she had come to know most of the people at the party through Marshall, so it wasn’t like she was awkwardly standing around for any amount of time.

She was at the snack table when a tall stature came to stand next to her.

“You lost your boyfriend, huh?’

(Y/N) looked up to see Kells stood next to her, a friendly smile on her face.

Despite the feud between the two, (Y/N) never had any sort of opinion on Kells. She hadn’t listened to his music - besides that one song with Camilla Cabello that blew up - and she didn’t want to form an opinion based on a beef she wasn’t even a part of. So, him standing next to her didn’t make her as angry as it had made Marshall earlier. Instead, she smiled back at him.

“Yeah,” she said. “Nothing new of course. Everyone congratulating him on the album and whatnot.”

“Seems like a lot of people just trying to kiss his ass.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “That may be true in some cases. Most of the people here who have already worked with him and known him for so long know better against that. Maybe it’s because they’ve already worked with him though, who knows. Where’s Megan?”

Kells gestured aimlessly into the crowd. “Also pulled away from me. Talking to...someone I guess.”

He didn’t sound too concerned over it, although maybe it was just the same situation (Y/N) was in. Megan was pretty popular as an actress, this was probably nothing new for Kells either.

“So, how did you and Em meet?” he asked, offering her one of the two red cups he had in his hand. (Y/N) didn’t think much of it at first. She figured he had probably gotten a drink for Megan then realized he had lost her in the crowd.

“We met through a mutual friend, actually. One from back in Detroit,” she explained. “I knew who Marshall was, obviously, but I was never really a hip hop fan. We got to talking and before I knew it, he was asking me out on a date. We were official within a month, and we’ve been together ever since. That was like...three years ago now, I think.”

She took a sip from the drink Kells had given her and cringed at the strong taste of alcohol in the cup. Noticing this, Kells asked, “Too strong?”

“Just not used to alcohol,” she explained. “I’ve mostly given it up in solidarity with Marshall. I’m proud of his sobriety, even if I’ve only been here for the tail end of it.”

“That’s lame,” Kells scoffed. “The old man shouldn’t hold you back from doing some fun shit.”

The tone of his voice plus the subtle diss caused a slight feeling of annoyance in her, but she pushed it down. Be the bigger person, she had been telling Marshall all night. She couldn’t go against that.

“He’s not holding me back from anything,” she responded. “I chose to do it. I just know it sucks to have to be sober when everyone around you is drunk or high. I want to be that one person he can confide in in those situations, you know?”

“You’re too good for him, man,” Kells said. “For real, you have a heart of gold and the body of a smoke show. You shouldn’t be wasting it all on that fucker. You should be getting with a real man.”

(Y/N) shuffled uncomfortably, now putting her cup down on the snack table. “I’m perfectly happy with Marshall, thank you. Besides, you have a girlfriend. One who is literally at this very party right now.”

He waved off the comment, as if it weren’t a real concern. (Y/N) looked around the room, desperate to find someone she knew who could save her from that situation.

Across the room, Marshall was glaring daggers into the back of Kells’ head. He could see the uncomfortable look on (Y/N)’s face, and saw the drink she had just discarded on the table. He knew something was happening, something he didn’t like.

“Why the fuck did you invite him?” he asked Paul. “Why didn’t you warn me first?”

“It needed to be an authentic meet up to end the beef,” Paul responded. “After tonight you won’t see or hear from him ever again.”

“You bet I won’t, because I’ll have him six feet under the fucking ground if he doesn’t get away from (Y/N).”

Paul looked over at the two. His face grew concerned upon seeing (Y/N)’s. “It can’t be anything too serious. He’s here with Megan, remember?”

“Do you see Megan anywhere around here, Paul?” Marshall asked.

He was so furious you could almost see the cartoon smoke coming from his ears. He was clutching his plastic cup so hard that it would’ve shattered into a million pieces if it was glass. It dropped from his hand suddenly when he saw Kells grab (Y/N)’s waist, trying to pull her closer to him. Both Paul and Dre had to grab him to stop him from going over and beating the shit out of Kells right then and there.

“Calm down, man,” Dre told him.

“He’s fucking touching her, Dre!” Marshall snapped. “She’s obviously uncomfortable, let me go over there and beat the shit out of him!”

“Not here,” Paul said. “Not in front of all these people. Go over and get her - peacefully - then you guys can just leave. This was a stupid idea from me.”

“Really fucking stupid,” Marshall hissed as he pulled away from the two. He tried to keep his anger at bay as he went over and wrapped an arm around (Y/N), effectively pulling her from Kells’ grasp. “Come on, babe, let’s go home.”

“What’s wrong, Marshall? Don��t like another man talking to your girl?” Kells challenged.

“I don’t like other men grabbing my girl when she’s obviously uncomfortable, no,” Marshall responded.

“Sounds a little insecure to me. Maybe you should work on that, man. You’ll be able to keep up with this absolute bombshell when you’re not so over jealous of her.”

Marshall’s grip on (Y/N)’s waist tightened. She tried to calm him down, but it was obvious he was past the point of no return.

“Fuck you,” he snapped. “Man, I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but you’re the one who started all of this shit. Now you’re coming here, to my launch party, trying to flirt with my girl, and now you’re insulting me?! Must be a sad existence you live, Kelly, when you can’t even be happy with your own success. You have to keep trashing on someone else who’s doing much better than you.”

Kells’ cheeks were tinted pink with anger as he glared at the two of them.

“I suggest going to find your girlfriend while you still have one,” (Y/N) told him. “Because I will be telling her about this whole...incident between us.”

Before any other words could be said, Marshall took (Y/N) and guided her out of the building. When they got to the car, he sat in the driver’s seat for just a second, trying to make himself calm down.

“I should go back in there and fucking kill him,” he said, more to himself than to (Y/N).

“No you shouldn’t,” she told him. “He was just trying to push your buttons. He seems very happy with Megan, and there were so many other girls at that party he could’ve flirted with if he just wanted to be a scumbag. He only chose me because he knew it would get to you.”

She reached over and put a hand over one of Marshall’s that was clutching the steering wheel. On contact, he loosened his grip and realized how much his hands hurt from holding the wheel too tightly.

“Whatever his intentions were, they don’t matter,” she assured him. “I love you, Marshall, and only you. No other asshole will ever come in and swoop me away from you.”

He chuckled at her slight insult, their own way of flirting with one another. He leaned across and kissed her gently on the lips before finally starting the car.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

1K notes · View notes

quillsareswords · 4 years ago

Note

Could you do something with Damian and a really cuddly, clingy, touchy-feely reader? I feel like his brothers would be v confused about the whole situation bc Damian's just chillin and always seems neutral to what's happening while reader is just like, koala bear hugging him and stuff all the time.

Firstly. I love this concept with every fiber of my being because, oh good god, it's me. Thank you so much for bringing this to inbox, because I've been lacking on inspiration lately, and this is just what I need right now. Thanks doll!!

Prompt List // Masterlist (in bio)

Tim stops dead in his tracks, cereal bowl nearly slipping from his hand as he halts in the doorway to the huge living room. He pauses, before cautiously asking, "What is this? What am I looking at?"

Damian's arm twitches against your back, the only give away that he's been caught off guard. You seem just as relaxed, sprawled on top of him like you've been there your whole life.

You don't even look at him, eyes still glued to the phone screen shining up at you from the floor, which you're facing with your face pressed against Damian's shoulder. "You've known me for five years and you still haven't learned my name? Rude."

He blinks. "Sure, sure. Right. Because it's absolutely normal for anyone to successfully get within a foot of Damian and not get knocked out."

You snort, but it still isn't enough to pry your attention away from your phone. Damian either, as he reads a book over your shoulder, which is settled under his chin. He must be tired or in a terrifyingly good mood, if he hasn't shoved you off in hopes of hiding emotions from his family. That's what he usually does when he gets caught with you, anyway.

He's been tiptoeing around the subject of you for a solid year and half now. It wasn't exactly easy, seeing as you're also a family friend, what with being a vigilante and all. You're Damian's partner, have been for three years, and you're in the manor often enough that you have your own room, right next to Damian's.

Still, even with no clear answers from either of you, the whole family has suspected a relationship for a long time.

But Damian isn't very touch oriented. In fact, he's been known to go to nearly astonishing lengths to avoid being touched at all.

And now here he is, you laying on top of him, out in the open, absolutely unbothered by Tim catching it.

Tim decides quickly not to risk Damian's mood spoiling while he's around, so he backpedals and heads for his room.

• • •

Jason doesn't come to the manor often, but when he does, there's usually a decently concerning reason for it. This time, he's waiting out a possible kidnapping by one king pin or another. You haven't been paying as much attention as you probably should.

Now, he's trotting down the steps from Bruce's office to fix a suspicious rattling noise his motorcycle has been making for a shameful period of time.

However, he stops beside the super computer, looking a little aghast and far too dramatic for the sight.

Damian side-eyes him, still typing away, but his head doesn't move. It really can't, because you're resting your head on top of it.

You're resting your full weight on the back of the chair, which Jason now realizes isn't the tall backed chair that usual sits there, with your cheek buried in the soft looking bush that is Damian's hair. Your eyes are closed, and your arms and draped over his shoulders, hands laying on his chest.

Jason catches himself staring when Damian's side-eyeing turns into a curious glare. Tentatively, Jason points to you, and raises an eyebrow.

Lowly, Damian somewhat patiently answers, "She's half asleep."

Your eyebrows slant together. "Hmm?"

Jason's expression becomes more confused. "She sleeps standing up?"

"Apparently," Damian mumbles.

Jason, more than a little perturbed but Damian's oddly placid demeanor and your absurd sleeping habits, shuffles the rest if the way to his bike, grabbing the toolbox on his way.

• • •

Dick sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket—correction, three blankets, facing the rest of the living room, where Damian sits on one couch, and Duke occupies the other.

"No no, I'm not saying Bella wasn't smokin, I'm just saying that those facial expressions and life decisions were questionable enough to make a guy think twice," Dick tries to reason.

Duke makes a face. "Bro, are you kidding? If a chick stares at you from across a lunch room and you've never spoke to her, you don't even try."

Damian scoffs. Duke raises an eyebrow, and just when he's about to beg for the story of who tied him to a steel chair and forced him to watch Twilight, you shoulder the double door open.

Damian doesn't look up from his newest book, which could be deemed rude if you weren't so close and comfortable with one another. "Evening, Beloved, how was your drive?"

You say nothing. You drop your bag by his feet, crawl the rest of the way onto the couch, and collapse. Your head in on a pillow between Damian's thighs and the arm of the couch, the rest of you divided unevenly between his lap and the rest of the couch.

He glances away from the pages briefly. "Traffic?" His hand slips under your shirt to gently run blunt nails up and down your spine.

For a moment, you're quiet, and neither of the two older men know how to react.

Then, without warning, you wail into the pillow. "Who the everloving fuck drives a Winnebago through central Gotham at six o'clock going fourteen miles an hour?"

Duke barks a loud laugh, before he claps a hand over his mouth in fear of a punishment. But a man can only do so much, so he sits with his hand over his mouth, giggling like a fifteen year old listening to a dirty joke with his parents in the room.

Damian chuckles lightly, white teeth peeking through a little smile that he's trying to suppress, much for the same reason Duke is doing his best not to let you hear him laugh.

Dick is more focused on the two of you, and the fact that his baby brother has grown up and changed for the better so much—

• • •

Cassandra climbs the stairs with some difficulty, thanks to two new sets of stitches and a few too many fresh bruises.

It's nothing a few days of relaxation won't fix. It was worth it, to see Poison Ivy put back behind bars—even if it did take four of you.

Shortly after arriving back, you and Damian had disappeared up to his room, after you'd both been checked over by Alfred. Aside from some intense bruising and a fee cuts and scrapes, you'd both been spared.

She knocks on his door a few times. With no answer, she loudly turns the handle and pushes the door open slowly, giving you enough time to correct her if need be. She knows at least one of you are in here, because the light is on. "Alfred sent me to tell you that there's dinner, if you want–"

She stops. You are, in fact, both in the room. However, neither of you are conscious.

Damian is sprawled haphazardly across his bed, face half squished into a pillow.

You're flopped across his back, horizontal across his bed, likely also with a pillow, but she can't see your face to be sure.

For a moment that feels a little intrusive, she stares, eyes wide. Not because he's in only boxers and you're in shorts and a sports bra (neither are necessarily a new sight, with one makeshift locker room in the Cave and a city with way too many privacy-surpassing emergencies), but because she's never witnessed Damian allowing another person to be so close to him while asleep.

Even on week long stakeouts that confine them to one room, he claims one corner for himself and doesn't tolerate that invisible boundary to be broken, especially when he's asleep.

She wouldn't even be so surprised if you were passed out in his reading chair, or even on a pile of blankets in the floor, or hell, even if you were on opposite sides of the bed. But you're literally as close to him as you could possibly be. And he's still sound asleep.

She closes the door and backs away slowly, a little smile on her face, even though she was too tired to laugh at the joke Bruce tried to crack a few minutes ago.

• • •

Bruce sits, almost impatiently, on a stone bench by the fountain the middle of Gotham City Gardens. The whole family had come here for the day, on invitation of the organization's owners. Of course, not everyone was officially recognized as family by anyone outside the Manor, so there were quite a few plus ones—you being one of them.

Of course you were. You're always invited. Over the years, it's become a running joke. A trip to the grocery store? (Y/N) must be invited. Walking from the W.I. building to an ice cream parlor and back? I bet (Y/N) is invited. At one point, Damian became so simultaneously annoyed and amused by it that for a week, you really did join him on every single outing. No one knows how exactly you made it across Gotham in six minutes flat to help him pick up cereal but by golly you managed it.

Bruce is currently waiting on you and Damian, who swore to meet him here for a few pictures (at Alfred's request). The pair of you had gone off on your own after about an hour of meandering around with his family, and no one has heard from either of you since. He would be worried, but you were both too excited about this to get into any trouble that would risk being sent home early.

Your laughter finds him before you do. It comes from around a corner of tall hedges, and shortly after, so do you.

You're smiling ear to ear, giggling like a school girl, elbows balanced on Damian's shoulders, about as precariously as you are on his back. That is to say, quite stable. Damian is grinning as well, his arms linked around you're knees at his sides to keep you as stable as you are. You've got an ice cream cone in each hand, one obviously having had more attention than the other.

Bruce's heart swells in his chest at the absolute joy on his son's face.

Damian stops not too far, shifting your weight to free one hand. You help, carefully resituating yourself to hold yourself up easily. You hand him the neglected ice cream, resting your now free hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry, Father," Damian sounds a little winded, and Bruce wonders if the running he heard earlier had been you two. "Somebody found an ice cream bar and insisted we stop before meeting you." He doesn't sound apologetic in the least.

"Hey!" You laugh, flicking the back of his ear as payback.

As payback for payback, he takes the edge of his cone between his teeth, and uses his free hand to give the back of your knee a quick pinch, before he occupies his hand again to tilt the odds in his favor.

You squeal and jerk. "Damian! You're gonna make me fall, and if I go down, you're coming with me!"

Bruce laughs loudly.

• • •

Alfred is on his way to the library to finish the afternoon chores. All he needs to do is straighten up in there, and he can call it an evening. Just in time, too, as one of the local channels is running a Downton Abbey marathon tonight that he doesn't particularly want to miss.

He pushes open the doors to get a little extra fresh air, but pauses just inside the doorway.

Damian is stretched out in one of the plush leather chairs, his long legs propped up by his ankles on the coffee table, head resting limply on the back of the chair. You're curled up in his lap, head on his shoulder, legs folded up on either side of his thighs, arms wound around his back. His hands are folded together on your back. You're both fast asleep.

The elder man is suddenly flooded with memories of the boy's first few months in this manor. In this room, even. He was politely feral, as Bruce had once put it. He was so uncomfortable all the time, though he fought not to show it. It was so new to him, to be openly cared for the way his family tried to care for him. Most people he met back then treated him as the cold, rude, trained assassin that he presented himself as.

So many overlooked the terrified ten year old boy that shook beneath the armor and the weight of the mantels he was expected to take up in so few years.

Of course Alfred had been paying attention to him all this time, all the growing he's done and the man he's becoming. He's always been proud.

But it's here, in this exact moment, that Alfred really takes in how different he is now, compared to then.

Not only did he find the strength and the trust to forge a close bond with you, one that would arguably outlast just about anything it was forced to endure, but he'd fostered such a sweet affection for you. He's found the space within himself to make room for a great love for you, and his family, and his friends.

And you're so good for him. You remind him of the things he could be, if he wanted, and not of what he should be or could have been. You provide him a sense of normalcy when he needs it, and battle ready companion when he needs that.

You look past the blazing armor of controlled aggression and lessons learned to reach the beautiful soul he is. And most importantly, you love him for all of it. You manage to dig so far beyond what he's been taught and the walls he's put up, that you look at what was meant to be the perfect soldier and you see a pillow to sleep on. You trust him with everything, including your vulnerability, just as he trusts you.

Alfred marks the page of the open book on the floor, closes it, and leaves it in the table for you later. He leaves as quietly as he came, in hopes of leaving the two of you undisturbed.

#damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne headcannon #damian wayne blurb

2K notes · View notes

plus-size-reader · 4 years ago

Text

The Princess pt.3

Negan x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1482 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The sanctuary is going through some changes, for better or worse.

Part 1

Part 2

——————————————————————————————————

You didn't think about very much other than Lucy at this point.

Life in the sanctuary was simple. You got up every day just as the sun was coming up in streams through your window; you got dressed and got as cleaned as you could, woke up the little girl and got her something to eat, all before Negan got up.

From that moment on, you sort of traded off responsibilities. Negan carried her around the market alongside you as you packed your bag for your run with Dwight, and then you went out for a little while.

It was the same, every single day.

Until, it wasn't anymore.

On this particular morning, when you went in to wake up Lucy for the day, she was already gone. Right off the bat, that worried you because Negan never got up this early so you doubted he was the one who had her.

So, rather than running around the entire compound like a crazy person without a single sense of direction, you headed to his room first. Even with the influence you had in this place, there was nothing compared to Negan's pull.

If the small girl was within the sanctuary walls, he would find her.

"Get up!" You demanded, forgoing all formalities as you entered Negan's bedroom. He was still sleeping peacefully, as he often did before any kind of wakeup call. Though, that sleep was interrupted as soon as you burst through the door.

You didn't care.

Normally, you would have had a little more tact but all you could think about right now was finding Lucy and you were sure that he would share the same sentiment when you filled him in.

"Shit, what are you doing?!" he groaned, rubbing his eyes to clear the sleep from them. He hadn't been up this early in quite some time, and you never got him up without some coffee first.

You didn't even bother answering him at first, choosing instead to yank the blankets back from the bed, not much care for where they landed. He needed to get up, and he needed to get up right now.

"Lucy isn't in bed. We need to find her" you decided, filling him in with as much casualty as you could, though it was obvious that you were pretty shook up over this. In general, you weren't one to panic but that was before you had a baby girl to care for.

She mattered to you more than anything else, she had to. For you, Lucy was the future, she was one of the only things that was really, truly good and you would die to protect that.

Now, on any given day, Negan would have thrown one hell of a fit about being pulled out of bed so early but that struck him as a pretty good reason. In fact, it was so good a reason that he didn't even ask another question.

The lanky male almost fell to the floor, all caught up in the fabric of the jeans he was trying his hardest to pull on but once he'd finished making a production of that, the two of you were ready to go.

"You have any idea who would have her this early?" he asked, not bothering with his jacket this early, though he did grab Lucille on his way out. It was ridiculous, really, but you didn't bother with telling him that.

Instead, you followed him down the long corridor, checking each room in turn. You wanted to make it all okay, to find her safe and sound, and to Negan the best way to do that was to check everywhere.

She was only three feet tall, there were only a few places she could be.

"I don't, but someone's gonna die when I find her" you allowed, only half kidding as you followed him. You couldn't even keep the upset to yourself, and you didn't have to, because Negan was right there with you.

Whoever had her was going to die.

...Or so you thought.

That ideal sort of changed when you turned the corner of the common room, where all of Negan's wives liked to spend their time. Apparently, they got the bright idea today to go find Lucy because she was there, in the center of their circle.

Every one of them was fawning over her, as anyone would, but for some reason, the relief you felt at seeing she was okay only mixed with the anger you'd had because someone would take her in the first place.

It wasn't a good combination.

"What do you think you're doing?" you yelled, immediately storming into the space with little care for how they felt. You knew well enough that none of Negan's wives cared much for you but this wasn't about them at all.

They put their noses where they didn't belong and involved your baby in all this, which you just couldn't allow. The little blond was all you cared about, and you would kill every last one of them before you let this happen again.

Frankie was the first to speak, a scrunched up sort of look on her face, "Calm down, we just wanted to play with her" she tutted, waving gingerly to the little girl at your side. Your grasp on her tightened, but out of protection or upset, you weren't entirely sure.

"You don't tell me to calm down. What would have ever given you the idea that this was okay?" you scoffed then, desperately trying to figure out how they had ever come to this conclusion in the first place.

You would have never put your hands on someone else's child, even before all of this.

Though, not one of Negan's six wives seemed to see the gravity in what they had done. In fact, it was almost as if they saw no problem in it at all, which blew your mind.

"She's Negan's too, and we're his wives. Doesn't that sort of make her ours too?" Amber piped up, earning a laugh from you. What she was suggesting was completely out of left field and you hardly believed she would have the guts to say that to you.

You were so shocked, in fact, that you just turned to Negan instead of trying to form a response. Anything you could come up with after that was going to do more harm than good and you tried to keep the piece with them when you could.

However, from the look on his face, it seemed like Negan wasn't going to be much help in that regard either. He looked just as confused by what she'd said as you did.

"I don't think that's what that means at all, and last time I checked, I make all the goddamn rules" he spoke up finally, he knew that taking your side wasn't going to work out for him entirely but in this instance, they were wrong.

There was no good reason for them to have ever gone into her room, let alone take her out of there without asking first. It didn't make any sense at all, and if it came between you and them, he knew well enough to bet on you.

Which wasn't all too popular an opinion.

Immediately, the mood in the room soured entirely with Tanya even going so far as to scoff audibly. It was quite the move, considering that this wasn't just going against you but against the two of you.

"Fine, we won't touch the kid" Frankie decided, subtly rolling her eyes as she sat down on the couch against the wall. It was the kind of attitude that you frequently received on the other end of these conversations but Negan had never seen it before.

Usually when it was just him and the girls, they were as sweet as could be and would have never acted this way but it didn't sit well with him now that it happened.

"I'm going to take Lucy to get something to eat, I can't be here right now. Somebody's going to die" you explained, securing the small girl to your hip and moving past where Negan was currently standing.

He was a big boy, and these were his wives. You just had to trust that he would be able to deal with this, because the last thing you needed was to make a mess all over the nice couches. Besides, your baby girl was getting hungry seeing as her breakfast was going to be late after this whole charade.

...And take care of it, he would.

The next time you saw Negan, he was going to have quite the news for you. He was going to make sure of it, even if something went wrong, that sort of thing was never going to happen again. Not where his Princess was concerned.

#negan #twd #the walking dead #negan x reader #negan x ps reader #negan x plus size reader #negan imagine #twd x reader #twd x ps reader #twd x plus size reader #twd imagine #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x ps reader #the walking dead x plus size reader #the walking dead imagine

204 notes · View notes

haikyuu-sins · 4 years ago

Text

As Long as You’re Quiet [Law x Reader]

I've had this scenario in my head that I've been thinking about it for DAYS and need to write it down. Have some cute Law :) the boy is very very bad with emotions, help the poor baby. This couldn't have easily gotten turned into something else *wink wink* but I shall not sin today! I want fluff!

*****

You were a newer member of there crew and still feeling things out a little bit. You got to know the crew and how they all worked, and also your captain. He seemed pretty stern and quiet, liking things getting done in a timely manner, and to get his own work done in the same way. They told you about how they don't see him too often because he's usually in his office working, and that generally no one went to talk to him unless there was an emergency or something that needed his help.

It was different not seeing your captain around that often. With your other crew, they were always laughing with everyone. That's not to say the crew you were with now didn't have good times together. You enjoyed being with them and you did have fun annoying and poking fun at each other. Although they were slightly more cautious with you since they didn't know you very well yet and you appreciated that, but you told them that as long it's all in good fun, you don't mind being teased.

"Has Captain come out to eat yet?" you asked Penguin who was sitting at the large table, chowing down the food on his plate.

"I don't shink so?" he replied with his mouth full.

"Do you think he would get mad if I brought him something?" you already started to make a plate of onigirl for him after they told you Law didn't eat bread.

"He probably wouldn't be mad, maybe just a little annoyed." Ikkaku shrugged as she finished up and washed her plate.

"I'll take annoyed over mad." you chuckled and went to find his office. It wasn't too hard to find, but you were still figuring out a lot of the submarine since it was a lot bigger than you anticipated. Quietly you knocked on the door and you heard a hum in response. "Um.. does that mean I can come in?"

"Yes." Law sighed out, and you heard the clack on a pen being put down on the desk. You opened the door quietly and walked in.

"Hi~" you smile softly at him and shut the door behind you. "I noticed that you didn't come to eat with us and I thought you might want something to eat. They told me you don't really eat with them sometimes but I thought you might be hungry. Plus, you're a doctor. You should be setting an example for your crew!" you hold up the plate of onigiri and walked over to his desk. There were so many papers though and you weren't sure if he didn't want them on top of it. He moved them to the side and you put the plate down. "Whatcha workin' on?" you asked him as you looked at the large map that was in front of him.

"A plan." he answered simply.

"What kind of plan?"

"An important one."

"Wow how riveting." you tease him with a chuckle. "I hope you like that, I made them with my own two hands so I'll be a little disappointed if you don't." you point to the plate of food as you look around his office. This was the first time you had been in here and got to look around a bit. "You have a so many books." The entire wall to the left of him was a bookcase that was filled. There wasn't a spot for anymore new ones if he got any. "I take it you like to read. What's your favorite book here?"

"All the ones on the very top shelf." he glanced over at you while you looked up at the top shelf. They'd be no problem for Law to grab seeing as he was so tall, but you were much shorter than him. He saw your shoulders drop as you sighed out loud enough for him to hear. You turned your head to look at him and kept your feet planted on the ground while you reached up, your fingertips barely reaching the shelf.

Law couldn't help but smirk at you.

"This is funny to you, isn't it?" your eyes narrowed at him playfully and you rolled them to look back up to the books.

"Just a litte bit."

"...Help me." you wiggled your fingers and tried to grab a random book.

He got up from his chair and picked the book closest to where you were reaching and handed it to you. It was a book about rare diseases. "This is the one you wanted?" he asked you, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure!" you replied with a smile and you plopped down on the floor, opening the book and began scanning the pages.

Law just looked at you with confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I figure this way if I have any questions then I can just ask you and I don't have to keep coming back to get them answered! That would be pretty annoying, wouldn't it? ...And.. it feels really weird to me not seeing my captain very often. I took comfort being around her...but if you're uncomfortable with me being here I'll leave!" you realized he probably didn't want you in here so you stated to get up before he spoke.

"As long as you're quiet." he went back to his desk and continued with his work. You sat back down with a small and timid smile, and continued to look through the book while trying to be as quiet as you could. But when you came upon a familiar disease it made your breath hitch. That was the first sound that you made since you sat down and it made Law look over at you.

It took you a moment to find the words. "I used to work at an orphanage when I was younger-maybe 10 or 11-and there was a mother who came to us. I don't know how but she managed to sail to our island without getting caught and taken in. She brought us a little girl who was about three or four years old and she told us that she couldn't take care of her anymore and that if the government caught her and her baby then they'd be killed because of a disease they had. She begged and pleaded-I'm talking crying so hard that I could hardly understand what she was saying. I know she said that it wasn't contagious even though it looked like it was. Here I am, a 10 year old, with a mother literally begging at my feet to take her child. So of course I take her because I can't just leave a child to get killed. She was innocent."

Your captain listened as you spoke about your past and you continued. "When she was about five or six, she started to get these white spots all over her body." That was when he knew exactly what you were talking about. "I lied told the kids that they were just birthmarks that can appear later in life because I didn't want her to get treated differently and bullied because of it. Kids can be quite the assholes." you said the last part quietly but kept going, your voice now starting to crack. "It started to get worse and she got really sick. I couldn't take her to the doctors because what if they find out about her disease and they kill her? At that point I didn't know what to do because I'd be killing her either way by going to the doctor or not. When she said that everything started to hurt, I knew she was going to go soon. I can't tell you how hard it is to watch an innocent child die in your arms..." you clear your throat and wipe the tears from your eyes. "I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to throw that all on you. Especially since you said to be quiet." you chuckled with a small sad smile.

He didn't really know what to say. He felt bad and knew what you were going through because his younger sister had died from that disease, and the obvious, he had had it, but didn't know how to express that to you. As you were talking he had taken a few bites of the food you brought to him. "...The onigiri was good..."

You looked up to him and furrowed your brows, but not in anger. You were far from angry and you figured he wasn't the kind of guy who was very good with emotions and comforting people-you were a new crew member anyway so you understood. You couldn't help the smile and laugh- almost a snort-that came out. "Why thank you, I'm glad you liked it. I sure hope you're not saying that because I started to cry and you felt bad though."

Law almost choked on the bite he had taken and swallowed it. "No! ...No..it really was. And thank you..."

"You're welcome. You know.. if you enjoyed it then if you want I can make it for you again tomorrow? But only if you'll let me read in here again with you! Next time I promise I won't give you a sappy life story with tears. I'll be quiet I promise! Save for a few questions here and there." you laugh and stand up. "I'll leave now so you can get back to work. I was a little distracting today...sorry." you scratch your head and chuckled sheepishly, turning around to attempt to put the book back on the shelf. Law sees you struggling and gets up. You feel his chest against your back as he tucks the book away into its correct spot. He grabs another from the shelf and hands it to you without a word as he goes back to sit at his desk.

"You can stay...a long as you're quiet."

#one piece #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #one piece x reader

180 notes · View notes

miwtze · 4 years ago

Text

bathroom floor (matsukawa issei x reader)

cw: eating disorders, purging, its not angsty

wc: 5.6k

dunno why this is so long but no beta i die like a man

matsukawa could count on one hand the names of his classmates that he could personally remember. even then it was only the class president and the student council secretary seeing as they were the only two people that ever really interacted with him when he was there. on his breaks he was with hanamaki, in class his head was down, after school he was at volleyball practice; he didn’t really have a reason to remember anyone else. it’s not to say he didn’t try, people were just standoffish due to his large structure or wanted to mingle with toru through him. he simply believed it was a bother. that was probably until his first term of his third year when he was seated next you.

“matsukawa-san.”

“matsuk-” matsukawa groans, shifting his head to the left in hopes of identifying the offending voice. he cracks open an eyelid, shifting his head to figure out who’s the one pulling him out of his nap; it wasn’t his mom or his younger brother. as his eyelids adjust to the rays of light engulfing the room he comes to the realization that he is in fact not in his bed, but rather sprawled across his desk and staring down at his desk mate’s tights-covered legs. “are you okay?” he whips his head up at your voice, wide eyed and rubbing the side of his mouth with the back of his palms as he scowls at you. not with any bad intentions but he’s willing to run the risk of looking like a dick if it saves him from the embarrassment of being caught sleeping in class.

“what is it?” you cock your eyebrows at him fingers to your chin, deep in thought. what did he say that was so interesting, he doesn’t know but he sinks into himself, wishing you would just outright laugh in his face. you don’t laugh. instead you turn around and dig through your bag pulling out a can of coffee and an energy bar, gingerly playing them on his desk.

“we’re both on class duty this week and the chemistry kits need to be brought down to class by the time lunch ends. we need it for our next class.” he stares at his wrist watch. he would rather use the last fifteen minutes of his lunch break to nap but he really didn’t want to forfeit the coffee or energy drink. not that you looked like you wanted it back. “i tried to wake you up earlier but you were kind of like a dead man walking. saying things like ‘five more minutes mom’ and ‘i’ll get up in a bit’.” matsukawa can feel the back of his neck heat up, rising to follow you out of the classroom and towards the science building. “figured you must’ve had a long night or something.”

“there’s absolutely no way you caught me fucking calling out to my mom. you should’ve just woken me up before everyone heard me telling me mom to let me sleep in,” he sighs, matching the pace of your step to walk next to you. “like, dude, that is so embarrassing.”

you turn your head and smile at him, he thinks it’s a little teasing but thankfully filled with no condescend. “actually for the most part the classroom was empty during lunch today, it was just me and secretary-san. everyone else went to go eat outside since the weather was nice.” you stated reassuringly, brushing hair behind your ears. matsukawa removes the hand he placed on his forehead with a sigh of relief. two people hearing him call out to his mother is significantly better than the whole class hearing it. “i don’t even think secretary-san heard you since she was on the other side of the room, but she most definitely saw you hung over your desk sleeping.”

“you shouldn’t call people secretary-san that’s, like, super impolite. also, if everyone else went outside to eat why’d you stay back? did you wanna watch me sleep or something,” he states matter-of-factly. turning his heel into the chemistry classroom making a beeline for the chemistry kits. he could still feel his neck burning, but he knows it’s because you’re digging holes into his back with your eyes. “or do you just, like, not have any friends.” you snicker behind him.

“you have to check the kits before you grab them; we need twenty four of them. also i’m not sure what the secretary’s name is. i was in a different class last year,” you say beginning to look through the kits separating the usable from the unusable ones. “and my friends got detention together and left me behind. some traitors they are.” you feign offense with the back of your hand to your forward and head tossed back. he notices a small beaded bracelet adorning your wrist, right under a thin gold one. you laugh at his raised eyebrows as finish separating the kits. he’s surprised to say the least, everyone in class one was the book nerd type who spoke harsh words behind whispers. at least to his knowledge anyways. he definitely didn’t think you would be this cheeky or friendly, especially not to the six feet tall monstrosity he was.

“why didn’t you just get detention with them. it seems more fun than eating by yourself, i think. i like to eat with my friends but apparently my dumbass fell asleep. i’ll probably get my ear chewed out during practice for it.”

“the most fun about doing things you’re not supposed to is getting away with it. plus i had to catch up on some other things so it didn’t make sense to leave and do something stupid just to get caught,” you say with a sly smile, struggling to mange the twelve kits you had split evenly between the two of you. he grabs your twelve including his silently, he wasn’t an athlete at a powerhouse school for nothing. “oh i see you are nice.”

“did you think i was some megawatt asshole or something?”

“maybe not megawatt, but, like, a twenty four watt asshole?” he snickers at that, following you into the classroom. “due to your kind act of charity, i’ll take it upon myself to take the notebooks to the teachers after school so you can head to practice early to get your ear chewed out, how does that sound?”

“absolutely fucking terrible, but much appreciated,” he says, sliding into his seat and cracking open the can of coffee you gave him. “thanks for this too, i’ll get you bread tomorrow during lunch to make up for it.”

“nah don’t worry about it,” you say, turning your head to greet two girls bouncing into the classroom stopping at your desk to complain about detention.

true to your word, you diligently collect and return the class notebooks that day after school. in fact you’re so dedicated to the task that you do it everyday for the rest of the week, never once asking matsukawa or complaining to him. matsukawa thinks you do it as to not bother him. he’s not entirely sure that’s the reason though, seeing as you’re pushing your desk next to his to share his literature textbook with him for the third time this week.

“sorry matsukawa-san, i forgot my literature textbook again. please do some charity work,” you whisper leaning over to look at the pages. you frown at his notes.

“you don’t sound like you forgot, also don’t judge someone else’s notes when they’re helping you,” he teases, looking down at you redoing his notes in a more orderly manner. small neat writing surrounds his messy illegible ones, highlighting what to look out for on the next exam. you’re wearing a gold ring with a jewel the same color of your beaded bracelet, small and dainty stilling on an even smaller middle finger. he sighs but he knows your notes have been helping him.

“between you and me? i definitely didn’t forget, i just hate carrying that heavy thing around.” you pause to look up from the notes, to his face and then back down. “maybe i’ll have you do it for me since you’re all big and tough, or whatever gender stereotype will benefit me.”

“you shouldn’t openly boast about being sexist.”

“what, you going to tell on me or something?”

“no but what’s the point in having me carry the damn book around if you have to walk home with it.” he’d rather you just not bring it seeing as no one else in his class talked to him and the most you talked to him was when you both were sharing his textbook.

“i do believe that is exactly why i don’t bring it, matsukawa-san,” you say dryly, returning to your task.

when the lunch bell rings you push your desk back and say your words of thanks, turning your heels to skip to your friends. he watches as the light hits your legs and the tights you always wear stretch around your thighs.

dirty bastard.

he turns and flees to takahiro, who makes fun of the blush creeping up matsukawas neck.

on friday afternoon, before issei leaves for practice he places two packaged rice balls and green tea on your desk. you open your mouth to say something but your friend beats you to it.

“oh? what’s this? a confession of love?” your friend pokes your cheek with a baby blue painted finger and shoots a smirk through her long eyelashes. she reminds issei of someone.

your other friend, one with dyed roots and glossed lips, pulls her back giggling saying, “hey c’mon now! you can’t scare him away, but it is an interesting approaching seeing as most people would just give a letter or something.” you sigh, shooting him a withering look of apology.

“na-chan, aya-chan, you can’t say things like that about people. it makes them uncomfortable. sorry matsukawa-san, what’s this for?”

“doin’ charity work i suppose.” you roll your eyes. “you should show gratitude when offered something, ya know?”

“oh? so this isn’t for the snacks i gave you the day i caught you slee-” he cuts you off by pulling up a chair to your desk. practice can wait.

“you are absolutely the fucking worst.”

“since you’re sitting here, share it with me i don’t like rice balls much.”

“i have practice.”

“you’re the one who sat down.” he blinks. your friends have already ran off yelling things about a part time job or something. you open both the rice balls and place one in front of him. “i don’t think you’ll get beaten if you’re a couple minutes late, at least i hope not. i think that’s illegal.”

“you’re just full of requests, huh? i might as well become make-a-wish with the amount of things i do for you,” he says mouth full of rice, towering over you even after sitting down. you sigh between small bites of the snack. “what? you don’t like umeboshi or something? why are ya looking at it like it’s defiling your throat.”

“not to sound ungrateful or anything, but i unfortunately am rather picky when it comes to food. but since the great matsukawa-san has blessed me with a rice ball i will thankfully finish it.”

“you’re so fucking annoying.”

“oh but i’m just too cute for you to let that bother you, isn’t that right?” you grin picking up your trash and grabbing your bag. “bye! i’ll see you tomorrow.” you leave before he has the chance to reply.

he leaves a couple minutes after you, heading to the third gym. he notices a pair of all too familiar tights-covered legs ducking in between the third and fourth gym. against his better judgement he follows.

dude, what the fuck. first you’re eyeing up your friend’s legs and now you’re following a girl behind the gym? get laid, he berates himself.

he watches the girl turn behind the fourth gym and he recognizes you by the charm hanging on the side of your bag. now he’s really curious. he silently leans against the wall getting close to the edge, but remaining out of sight. maybe it’s a really weird confession. he wouldn’t want to impose.

minutes pass before he actually hears anything but it wasn’t the confession he wasn’t expecting. sounds of you’re gagging fill the air. he has to stop himself from turning the corner and asking you if you’re okay, only being able to turn his head to look at you. fingers down your throat and tears down your face.

knot of uneasiness ties at the pit of his stomach as he turns and flees, knowing he saw something he shouldn’t have. the butterflies in his chest burden him knowing that he’s festering a crush on someone who hasn’t shared any part of herself to him other than her kindness. issei doesn’t like that.

after practice that day he stays continuing to abuse the gym floors hitting one volleyball after the other, trying to focus on the burns on his palms instead of anything else. oikawa and iwaizumi head out before him leaving him alone with the gym keys to lock up when he’s done. he doesn’t finish for another two hours and he only stops then because his body is about to give out on him.

matsukawa begrudgingly makes his way to the teachers room when he sees you fumble around, barely able to walk straight. his eyes widen when he sees you drop your bag and fall into the wall.

“fucking dumbass.” you hiss and pick up your bag.

“hey man, you good?” your entire body freezes, almost as if someone hit pause on you. he calls your name, panic creeping into his voice. “do you want me to carry your bag? i can walk you home.” when he goes to step towards you you swing your head back to face him.

“i’m fine matsukawa-san. have a good evening.”

he watches as your small figure, drowning in a big cardigan, stumble away quickly, never once turning back. he returns the keys to wall excusing himself, thinking about the chilling tone of your voice as he walks home.

he has no idea how to approach you after that, as the weeks pass by he avoids mentioning it, questions piling up in his mind. he knows you can tell that he’s antsy (there’s no way you don’t) around you, but you still keep polite conversation and share his literature textbook with him. sometimes you leave snacks on his desk, he always accepts them. matsukawas latest hobby has been lying face down on his desk during lunch to eavesdrop on your conversations. he tries to reason that he’s just tired but he’s so far deep he knows he’s lying to himself.

“do you think guys like clips?”

“i don’t think they care enough to pay attention to stuff like that.”

“really? i can't speak for dudes since i don’t have a dick-“ matsukawa almost blows his cover by laughing at your words “but i think they would appreciate a cute hair clip. especially on a girl he’s into.”

“i feel like guys should get into clips. i think they’d look good in them.” all three of them hum.

“wanna see if they do?” you say standing up, he can feel you hover around his desk. your friends giggle already connecting the dots, even he connected them. “matsukawa-san, hey matsukawa-san. are you sleeping? psst” you whisper close enough to where he can feel your breath on his ears. he stays silent. he watches your feet turn around, he’s almost disappointed.

“dude, he’s sleeping. you sure he won’t beat you up when he wakes up?”

“that’s a bridge i’ll cross when i get there.” you turn back around, thin fingers grabbing tufts of his hair gently as to not wake him up and pins them down. one. two. three. four. there’s two on each side of his forehead, he can feel them. “so aya-chan? na-chan? what’s the verdict.”

“his head is down we can’t tell.” your friend says, he assumes is the blunt one in your friend group probably the one you call aya-chan. he sits up. “looks like you’ve crossed that bridge though.”

“good luck, but i was right guys do look good with clips,” your other friend laugh, but before you can turn around to face mastukawa he grabs you by your waist and pulls you down. you end up on his lap and if he wasn’t too busy tickling you, he would question the promiscuity of his actions.

“you know it’s super impolite to mess around with people when they’re sleeping. it’s probably considered bullying.”

“ah! mastukawa-san! i can't breathe, i’m sorry! i’m sorry!” you can barely get your words out, getting get off between loud laughs. people look over.

“are you sorry?”

“yes yes now stop please.” he stops tickling you but still holds an arm around your waist, you make no movement to get off his lap either instead turning and grabbing his face to do a one over. “oh my god, na-chan you were right!” letting go to turn your friends, who shoot him looks of apology. “guys look super cute with clips on! hey matsukawa-san if you wanna seem less scary you should wear clips, not that i think you’re scary.”

“i’m always right, i religiously study fashion magazines. that’s why you two always look so hot.”

“ah thank you for your diligence. maybe if you studied your math textbook we’d be able to hang out this summer but someone has to do summer classes.” you giggle at your friends banter reaching over to grab your phone.

“hey matsukawa-san, smile!” pulling and arm around him you bring the phone up. he smiles and throws up a peace sign and take a couple pictures. “you’re being oddly agreeable with this. give me your line ID i’ll send these to you.” you hop off and face him.

“you just want his line ID.” of course you do, matsukawa issei is a complete stud and you want him.

“and? he’s going to give it me regardless of my intentions.” you pass your phone to him and he takes it from your hand watching the cardigan slip through your arm revealing bruises trailing under your gold bracelet. he catches you staring and quickly you pull up your sleeves to you palms. “look! sweater paws.”

“you’re stupid, here.”

“she’s not that stupid. she’s top of our grade, you know?”

“why are you bragging when you have to do remedial courses,” matsukawa deadpans, trying to figure out what to call them since he didn’t know their names and he wasn’t about to call her na-chan.

“oh, this is natsume and that’s ayasaki.” you say catching his frown as you remove the clips. he nods. “do you want me to get you clips you looked really cute with them. we can match.”

“should we get him sparkly ones? like blue ones,” ayasaki questions.

“oh! and some white ones? so it matches his volleyball uniforms?” you add on.

“absolutely not, i only did it because she’s cute.” pulling you back down, you melt into him. i feel so small next to him, maybe it’s because his huge. i like it. a lot.

“no means no. hanamaki would not let me live it down.”

“well would you look at this matsukawa went and got him a girlfriend!” it was as if he was cursed, turning to see the shit eating grin plastered over hanamaki’s face as he steps into his classroom. oikawa and iwaizumi behind, following him inside. “and you let her put clips in your hair? what a simp.”

“im not a fucking simp, i was asleep and she’s not my girlfriend.”

“she’s on your lap.”

“it’s a punishment for messing with someone that was sleeping,” matsukawa states matter-of-factly. he hopes hanamaki will drop it, but of course he won’t. it’s hanamaki.

“so who is this girlfriend-chan? is she cute?” oikawa asks circling around his desk to get a good look at you. he bursts into a grin and he says your name, your first name. hanamaki repeats it.

“oh dude you scored. good for you.” hanamaki pats his back, turning to engage in conversation with you. “do you remember me? i was in your first year class. we never talked though.”

“ah yes i recall you almost got held back because of your math scores,” you say looking up from your phone, matsukawa’s phone rings in his pocket. iwaizumi laughs.

“it’s good to see you again! we haven’t talked since, like, middle school. hi natsume-chan! ayasaki-chan! you three still together?” they both look up from the magazine natsume was pointing at.

“oh but of course. you and iwaizumi still married?”

“absolutely not i would never-“

“yes! we’re going on a honeymoon soon.” iwaizumi smacks him.

“it’s good to see the three of you, though. i didn’t know you went here,” iwaizumi says smiling.

“well that’s because your head only thinks about oikawa and volleyball, no?” ayasaki raises her eyebrows, you and natsume hum in agreement.

“oh my how romantic,” you coon. “are we invited to the baby shower?” matsukawa laughs into your shoulder pulling you closer. he feels you’re small frame, the bulky cardigan doing nothing to hide the bones he can feel brush against him.

“you know for a punishment you both seem to oddly enjoy yourselves,” hanamaki points out. “but, dude, you were super cute before but you’re so pretty now! what’d you do? cocaine?”

“not all of us have debaucherous hobbies hanamaki-san.”

it only gets louder between the banter of his friend group and yours, but he can’t focus thoughts piling up on after the other. when the lunch bell rings, matsukawa has a headache and it’s not from the noise.

“first of all? fuck coach for making us do two practice games in a row, like, i get it we have inter-highs when we get back in the winter, but this is fucking brutal.” hanamaki proclaims, feet dragging. “second of all, he’s making us practice tomorrow too. i might as well jump off the tokyo tower.”

“do a flip on your way down,” matsukawa says pulling his phone out to check his line. he texted you about his practice matches and hasn’t been able to reply since then.

“you said it yourself hanamaki, we have inter-highs coming up. we want to go to finals and to do that we have to practice,” iwaizumi reasons, but even his voice is drowned in exhaustion. oikawa whines and begins to complain about ushijima at finals and matsukawa tunes out, having already heard this seven times today.

[you, 12:13 pm] good luck at your matches today, hope u win straight sets so u can go home fast. -w-

[matsukawa, 5:11 pm] only won one of the matches but both went into a third set im so fucken tired.

you reply immediately.

[you, 5:11 pm] bruh that’s terrible make sure to grab something to eat. idk what nutritionists would say but i’m sure they would agree with me

“do you guys wanna grab something to eat?” matsukawa interjecting oikawa’s vent, raising his eyebrows.

“oh my god mattsun, you’re absolutely genius,” matsukawa shoots him a shit eating grin. “let’s get ramen?” oikawa finishes. iwaizumi and hanamaki nod in agreement, the three of them dragging themselves towards the ramen shop on the main street.

[matsukawa, 5:14 pm] you should eat too, have you had dinner?

[you, 5:15 pm] no but ayachan and nachan want to grab food before we head home. we went to a cat cafe today look. (one image attached) cute right >///<

before he gets the chance to reply he hears loud laughing coming from the street crossing on to the one the four of them were on down. maybe the day wasn’t so bad because you walk out laughing at something ayasaki said. he’s stunned. bewildered. whatever the fuck kind of emotion he’s feeling he knows it’s because you’re just so pretty. he’s a lot for words as he gapes at you, eyes wide like saucers.

“look who it is! hi guys!” natsume shouts, dragging you and ayasaki with her, your arms are all linked. he can’t move.

“wow, it’s you three again! you’re always together,” oikawa teases, jabbing an elbow into mastukawas ribs. “there’s your little girlfriend,” he whispers, matsukawa can’t even respond, he’s just so flustered.

“whatcha guys up too, anyways?” hanamaki asks when the three of you arrive in front of them.

“oh we were hanging out and we wanted to grab some food before we head home, you guys just get out of practice? you look so fucking dead,” you ask shooting them looks of pity. oikawa sighs, about to respond when mastukawa reaches and brushed your hair behind your ear.

“you cut your hair.” and it looks good.

“in fact i did.” a blush covers your cheeks almost hidden behind the glow of the setting sun. maybe i’m talking to an angel, matsukawa thinks. “thoughts?”

“you look gorgeous.” matsukawa can’t even stop himself. when he catches what he says he coughs and turns away flustered. howling shouts come from hanamaki, iwaizumi and ayasaki.

“he’s right though, you look delightful. we’re going to get ramen do you guys want to join us?” iwaizumi asks, shooting a smirk to matsukawa. he doesn’t even have time to be panicking about the situation because ayasaki, of course, agrees.

when all of you are seated along the L-shaped bar in front of the cooks, you lean in to speak to matsukawa. you both are seated at the corner next to each other which was done intentionally by hanamaki and ayasaki. “why are you guys slaving away at practice anyways during summer break anyways? does the coach have a bounty on you or something?” you’re playing with your fingers, watching the server place your meal down in front of you.

“honestly dude,” he stops to let out the heaviest sigh you’ve ever heard. “i think at this point, irihata and oikawa teamed up to put us through hell and back.”

“homie you completely ignored my question, why?”

“oh shit my bad. we’re trying to get to get to finals, you know? inter highs start up right after summer break and oikawa has a bone to pick with the shiratorizawa captain.”

“so you guys are feeling the fruits of his planned revenge?” matsukawa nods, resting his face in the palm of his hand. you shoot him a look of pity, reaching over to pat his head, his hair is so soft. “don’t worry i’m sure you’ll get your revenge, if not you can call out for your mom again” matsukawa’s face flushes and he grabs your wrists pulling you in.

“you. i thought we agreed to never mention that again,” he hissed under his breath, looking around to see if any of the other third years were eavesdropping. they weren’t. “i thought we had an agreement. i thought we were comrades. i thought-”

“matsukawa-san, matsukawa-san shhh! i’m sorry it’s fun to tease you. i promise i’ll make it so only i can make fun of you for that.” you giggle. “since we’re comrades and all.”

“i don’t wanna be your comrade anymore.”

“here take my gyoza and stop pouting, you’re cuter when you’re smiling.” you reach over and place all your gyoza into his bowl shooting him a blinding grin. “but that’s not to say you’re not cute when you’re pouting.”

“if i’m cute, what are you?” you frown, is he calling me ugly. he waves his hand through the air as if to will away your thoughts. “not like that. you’re pretty, pretty fucking cute.”

“you know, you sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.” you watch him eat as you poke at your own meal. he eats well, you smile. as the seven of you finish up your meals, you excuse yourself to the restroom. matsukawa thinks it’s suspect considering most of your bowl is full, so he follows you.

you know man your reputation for a full on creep is just expanding.

as he steps into the bathroom he seeks you hunched over, cursing spilling past your lips along with the food you forced down. you freeze, turning to look at him as he locks the door.

“i’m almost positive breaking into a bathroom is some kind of crime,” you state as if matsukawa didn’t just see you force yourself to throw up.

“i’m fully aware i’m not supposed to be in here, but i got worried, sue me.” you raise your eyebrows as him resting your arms on the toilet seat. he grimaces realizing you’re sitting on the bathroom floors. in a public bathroom. “also if you’re going to go to the bathroom as least lock the door.”

“it sounds like matsukwa issei already knew about this.”

“stop talking about it like it’s a joke.” matsukawa says grabbing tissues to wet them and pass to you. ”at least get defensive or something. i had my suspicions, saw things i shouldn’t have. i’m sorry about that.”

“don’t apologize you didn’t do anything wrong. i’m sorry for worrying you, but i don’t see this as anything of your concern.” you reach over to take the napkins from him, but he instead cleans your face for you. wiping away the spit and tears gently.

“wash your hands.” his voice left no room for argument, so you wobbled your way over to the sink and finished cleaning yourself. when you finish and turn to face him he lifts you on to the sink, trapping you in between his arms. “it’s not my concern but i’m going to concern myself with it. you’re hurting yourself.”

“so what, i’d rather hurt myself then have other people hurt me because of the way i look.” you're eyes are glassed over avoiding his and your voice is shaking, the raw emotions spilling out in contrast to your deadpan face. you guess that’s why you’re attracted to matsukawa, you’re both hide behind laid back personalities storing away a barricade of feelings gently stirring and building up. “don’t involve yourself with me anymore. i know it’s just going to be another weight on your shoulders. you’re too caring to pretend like you didn’t see it.”

“you don’t deserve that, there’s nothing that warrants this and you know that.” matsukawa sounds desperate, you know that he probably is. “i won’t let other people hurt you, i’ll protect you i promise. so please don’t push me away.”

“you’ll protect me huh.” you lean back against the mirror to look up at him. “what does that even mean.” he blinks.

“well actually i don’t know yet, but i want to figure it out with you. i want to support you and help you because i don’t want you to be alone in this, you know?” matsukawa was fumbling his words, he was nervous he couldn’t make you stay but he hoped to every god that you wouldn’t walk away. “like, i know i don’t know what to do, but i’m willing to try and figure it out. i know it’s gotta be lonely especially when your friends are bent over backwards for magazine models, and like, dude, i like you so much and i just-”

“matsukawa-san”

“yes”

“are you confessing to me in the bathroom of a ramen restaurant?” matsukawa nods, shamelessly. you think this is the most matsukawa confession to exist, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. the boy you pined over since first year found out about your dirty little secret and didn’t turn you way. he offered his and and wore his heart on his sleeve for you, who are you to turn him away. “i don’t know where we would go from here either, but i’d like it if we figured it out together.” matsukawa leans in closer to you, grabbing you by the back of your neck gently and pulling your face into his before you can object. when you break away your frown deepens, “you just kissed me with vomit breath.”

“it’s okay you’re the person i’ll kiss with vomit breath since we‘re comrades.”

“you shouldn’t call your girlfriend comrade, it doesn’t give me butterflies.”

“oh? so you’re my girlfriend now?”

“what, you don’t wanna date me?”

“oh absolutely i do. i’m honored to have the pleasure of being your boyfriend.” matsukawa teases as he pulls you down. your reply gets shut down by a wave of texts that blows up matsukawa’s phone.

[hanamaki, 6:03 pm] ayo casanova wya dude ???? are you getting your dick sucked in the bathroom that’s dirty she’s too cute for that anyways we paid and we’re heading out >.< stay safe muah

[iwaizumi, 6:05 pm] we left but you’re going to have to explain yourself tomorrow.

[oikawa, 6:06 pm] mattsun!! tell us about your salacious bathroom endeavors tomorrow at practice <333

you follow him out of the restrooms, leaning over to look at his messages and laugh, point to your phone which shows a string of messages of similar nature from ayasaki and natsume.

as you and matsukawa walk hand in hand down the streets of miyagi you can’t help but notice the butterflies blossom from the pits of your stomach exploding towards your beating heart.

“i’m thankful you’re the one who found out i don’t think i would want it be anyone else.”

“i wouldn’t want it to be anyone else either.”

as the twinkling street lights cheered you on, you stepped forward towards the future knowing you had matsukawa to lean on.

#matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei #haikyuu x y/n #haikyu x reader #issei x y/n #tw eating disorder #tw purging #idk bro don’t read this #i hate this for real #/mattsun

120 notes · View notes

savoies · 4 years ago

Text

i don't know you yet - anthony beauvillier.

summary: soulmates. they exist right? y/n and tito live their daily lives doing activities thinking if the right person will ever come.

word count: 2k.

warnings: maybe a few bad words. hopefully angst.

a/n: i think this might be my first "angst" so please let me know what you think. i am so proud of this work and honestly probably one of my bests. loosely inspired by idk yet by alexander 23. thank you so much to @puckbuddies for all the help, love ya!

taglist + tagging a few folks: @quintnsbyfield @vincecdunn @bigboigritty @ana-maa @puckshitbitch @alxvlasic @stfukie @laurenairay @damn-dunner-29 @kaitieskidmore1 @thelionkingpw @aria253264 @hartsyhart @boesxr @mitch-slap @frostythegoalman @teenagekook @barzysthighs

tagging some lovely folks: @laurenairay @konecny-s @bestestbenn @vinceduhn @folkloreflyers .

(*credit to gif owner.*)

Many people imagine their dream person or think of the person they want to date or marry from a young age. Y/N remembered going to sleepovers and her friends talking about how they wanted a boyfriend with blue eyes and blonde hair or brown hair and brown eyes. But when Y/N's turn came around she always said the same thing "I don't care what they look like as long as they are the right person for me." And that's when the game would end. Because twelve year olds could not fathom that everyone had their person and at some point they'd meet and everything would work out. Her mindset was set as growing up her mom would always tell her the same story. When I met your dad I just knew she'd say.

Tito had dated his fair share of girls. Blonde, brown haired, a red head, and a spontaneous colored haired girl here and there. But none caught his attention. Not that they weren't pretty or anything but Tito was not really one to date and dump. He liked forming connections and really getting to know them. But being a hockey player was not really quite helpful. They'd be invited to a party here and there and of course Mat begged Tito to go with him because he needed a wingman and Tito could not really say no to his best friend.

~~~~

Y/N had believed she had met her special person her second year into college. A tall lanky boy with brown hair. They had both met in the library when they reached for the same book. Might seem cheesy but she took it as a hint. After "considently" bumping into eachother in the library many more times he had asked her out. Most of their dates were pretty basic just like her. Maybe that's why she enjoyed them so much. Two years. Two years is how long she dated him for. But sadly people fall out of love. She had heard about that happening only in movies. Never really thinking that it could happen to her. But then she heard some of the worst words anyone could ever hear. "I don't love you anymore."

Her heart was sad. Her first real relationship. Who she believed was the one. But she understood. This wasn't her fairytale. But she was broken. Her still being in love. Thoughts invading her mind. What did she do wrong? What could she have done better? So after that it took her time to open up again, to bring those walls down to handsome looking strangers. She wasn't one just to date for fun. So she rarely did bring them down. Sometimes she'd sit in her dark room late at night letting her thoughts consume her. How maybe she'd never find the one, how she was unlovable, how she had way too high of expectations to believe there was someone for everyone.

~~~~~

Every Monday morning Y/N would go to the same coffee shop and get the same order, a medium coffee with sugar and cream. To her it was a nice way to start the week. She had been doing it since she moved to Brooklyn in 2016.

Tito had been begging Mat to go with him to this coffee shop in Brooklyn that apparently had great coffee. Tito was what you could call a food and drinks connoisseur. Having cooked many times for his teammates and best friend.

" Come on Mat, Grace and Anders said it the best they've had and they've lived here much longer than us. Plus you owe me for getting you that girls number last week, don't forget to call her." Tito wasn't one to get acquainted with Mat's hookups but he did feel bad when the next morning Mat was kicking them out before sunrise.

Mat finally agreed and here they were on a Monday morning way too early for Mat's liking for a straight black coffee that was "rich in flavor" according to Tito. It was quite busy for it being Monday but they patiently waited in line.

Y/N gathered her stuff and exited the crowded coffee shop, careful not to bump into anyone and headed her way to work.

After waiting for about fifteen minutes they ordered two medium coffees and headed out to the busy New York streets.

She had walked about ten minutes away from the coffee shop before she realized that she forgot her phone. Y/N checked her watch and noticed that if she was gonna make it on time she had only five minutes to retrieve her phone. So she quickly but carefully dogged through people as she made her way back to the coffee shop.

Tito and Mat were casually walking back to the car having parked it a few blocks down when they saw someone running their way. Tito wasn't paying much attention due to savoring his cup of coffee which to him was totally worth the twenty minute drive and six dollars.

"Dude she's hot." Mat turned around and checked out the girl that somewhat seemed like she was running away from something instead of for something.

"Mat that's gross. You literally didn't even see her face and are labelling her hot just by seeing her ass, I understand why you need a wingman now."

"Hey!" Mat slapped his best friend's shoulder as Tito drank his coffee trying to stifle a laugh (which he failed) since Mathew knew it was true.

~~~

Y/N had heard it many times from her friends, family, and probably even a few strangers. It was time to get a date. She wasn't desperate to really get anywhere. She was a 22 year old living in one of the most populated states in the country. She has time right? Deep down she knew that if she didn't get out there her person would probably not come by themselves. Which brings her to present day staring at her phone screen at 1am. Earlier in the day Y/N's friend texted her that she knew someone who deemed specific qualities the young romantic wanted.

~~~

Y/N met Grace in the coffee shop. She had come in a little bit later due to having the day off and sleeping in. Grace and Ruby sat in one of the corners of the small spaced coffee shop and Y/N sat next to them trying to stay in her own space but finding it quite difficult when there was a cute baby trying to get her attention a few feet away. After Grace apologizing for invading her space and Y/N saying it was really no problem they continued to meet in the coffee shop every once in a while. And a friendship blossomed later having exchanged numbers.

Grace was great. She listened to Y/N's tall tales of soulmates and love and she even told her about how she found her love (which she referred to as anders, y/n never having met him before) and how they had a beautiful baby girl together. She knew Y/N wanted someone who was sweet and kind and liked forming deeper connections so when she had an encounter with Tito she knew she should text her.

~~~

It was a late Friday night and the boys were celebrating a win in a rowdy club somewhere in downtown Brooklyn. The single guys trying to get the attention of some girls by buying them drinks. Grace had been standing at the bar with some of the other girls when she saw that Tito sat alone at the booth that occupied their stuff.

"Seems like our stuff doesn't really need a bodyguard, why aren't you out there buying a girl a drink or dancing?" She spoke somewhat loudly due to the pounding music and shouting of people.

"Not really my thing." He smiled softly back at his captain's wife. Tito was not fond of clubs or bars. He felt as though it was way too loud to actually have a proper conversation with someone. That's when it clicked. Of all the times the team had gone out not once had Tito really smiled or joked around with a girl. Grace connected the dots and decided to text Y/N in the morning.

~~~

A simple message was displayed across Y/N's screen. Simply reading "hey i know dates aren't your thing but i know someone who i think you might like."

After sleeping on it for quite a few more hours than she needed to, she decided to bite the bullet and text Grace back. "Why the hell not."

Not even two minutes later Y/N's phone dinged indicating a response. "Perfect, I'll let him know."

There she sat on her bed over thinking if this was really a good idea.

Tito was way over his head. Grace had texted him that she knew of a girl who was quite exactly Tito's type. At least she loosely stated it that way. He had agreed only on the condition that Mat was having a girl over later tonight and he wanted to be as far away from that as possible since they did have pretty thin walls. So exactly five hours later here he stood outside the infamous coffee shop which held the secret ingredient to the best coffee he had. Grace didn't tell him much other than her hair color which was quite difficult to find in New York since every once in a while a sea of same colored haired girls would come by. He waited outside deeming it more on the gentlemenier side. Whatever that meant. Ten minutes later wrapping his coat on tighter and checking his watch for what seemed to be the five time. Maybe she stood him up. I mean he didn't have too many redeeming qualities. I mean hell he lived in New York and didn't like clubs, parties, and sometimes hated big crowds which were what seemed to be a big part of where he lived. Rocking on the back of his heels he decided to wait a bit longer thinking that hopefully she was just running late.

~~~

Indeed she had been running quite late. Her cousin had pleaded her to take care of her baby because she had some errands to run. She didn't mind at all since she did in fact love babies. But when four thirty rolled around and still no sign of her cousin she began to worry. She didn't have this mystery dudes number (which Grace referred to him as Anthony) so she couldn't really text him that she was gonna be a bit late. She really hoped he would wait because all throughout the day her excitement grew more and more. Finally five rolled around and Y/N quickly handed off the baby and changed into something more date worthy rushing out the door in the cold breeze of the afternoon. She rushed to the coffee shop and as she arrived she could see a tall stranger looking down at the ground presumably freezing since it was pretty cold. She dodged a few people hoping that this was indeed her date.

"Hi uhm are you Anthony." She spoke up and she stood awkwardly pulling the sleeves of her sweaters. "Gosh please be Anthony or im just gonna look like an idiot." She whispered.

Tito turned around at a soft voice and was faced with one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen. Her baby hairs were sticking out and her nose and cheeks were red from the cold, she seemed to be somewhat out of breath.

Y/N looked up and caught sight of some of the most memorizing eyes she had ever seen. This handsome stranger who she presumed as Anthony had amazing features.

Tito cleared his throat and reached out his hand. "Hi uhm yeah im Anthony but you can call me Tito, or at least that's what my friends call me." He began to ramble.

"Nice to meet you im y/n." They shook hands and a soft electric shock was felt between the two. They both glanced up and she knew it was too soon to tell since she had just met him but she felt an extra special connection with him.

#ari speaks #hockey boys #hockey #tito beauvillier #i don't know you yet anthony beauvillier #anthony beauvillier #tito beauvillier x reader #new york isles #new york islanders #ny isles #nhl fics #hockey fics #hockey fic #nhl fic #ok i know i make out mat to be kind lf a douche oop #ahh im so happy how this turned out #please let me know what you think #im so happy to show you guys

151 notes · View notes

aarcanechaoss · 4 years ago

Text

My Oh My

Bokuto x Tatsu: smut/ MSBY Black Jackles / drinking

Tatsu getting a phone call from Kotaro Bokuto wasn’t something she ever expected. Well that’s a lie he liked to talk to her but normally he’d show up uninvited to her apartment.

“Hello? Bokuto what’s up?”

“Can I come over and get smashed at yours it’s been a shit day and I need something strong.”

“Sure head on over.”

Kotaro Bokuto sounding serious wasn’t something Tatsu could ever expect either. He was an energetic and happy man and hearing that serious tone made a shiver race down her spine in anticipation.

“So why has the mighty energetic Kotaro brought me a bottle of vodka and my favourite mixer?” The dark haired woman asks.

“Training was a nightmare.”

“Please tell me more- inside as we get drinks.”

“Yes ma’am.” He salutes with his usual wide grin before letting it drop slightly. She pouts and leads him to the kitchen. Grabbing two glasses she urges him to speak while she sorted out their first drink and snacks.

“So.”

“I’m so sore and worn out and frustrated and stressed man.” He started. “Today’s training was hard, I get we have a game coming up but seriously even Hinata had had enough.”

“Even Hinata? That kid has enough energy to power a solar panel but even he’s over it. Shit maybe he need some vodka to.” She laughed taking a drink from her glass.

The evening went like that, catching up, talking about things that annoyed them both, remembering high school and drinking and drinking and drinking.

“Shit Tatsu I remember the first time we met, the skating rink I fell on my ass.” He barked drink shaking in his hand as he laughed.

“Oh I remember that that was fucking hilarious.”

“Then you joined the training camp the next day, ripped Tsukiblahblah a new one and ran off with Kuroo.”

A light blush dusted Tatsu’s cheeks- whether that was from the alcohol or from the memories of Kuroo’s mouth against her was difficult to answer.

“I remember that... I made everyone uncomfortable by saying when people bow to me it’s usually with their face between my thighs.” She laughed. His grin widened as he laughed along.

And then as all drinking with friends go, the conversation turned sexual.. not that either minded at alll. Albeit nothing explicit it did illicit something between them.

“So do you get any personal time with the Black Jackals?” She asked.

“No.” He sighed. “I have all this pent up energy and the only thing I can do to release it is play volleyball with Hinata who nowadays will run to Kenma’s beck and call. What about you? Being a famous figure skater and all much personal time?”

“Not as much as I’d like. I mean I get a decent amount but once I need to start properly practicing for competitions all that free time goes out the window... can’t even get a dick appointment.” She pouted taking another sip of her drink.

“I’ve always meant to ask this, and tell me if it’s weird or inappropriate but I figured since we are friends... who have you slept with? Or just how many...”

Tatsu laughed and pursed her lips in thought.

“Out of people you and I know mutually about six people. Oikawa, Iwazumi, Semi, Asahi, Kuroo and don’t be mad but Akaashi.”

“Oikawa!” Bokuto yelled out. “Shit man.

“Well I have known him and Iwazumi since we were little I did a lot of experimenting with the two plus Toru is bi so he was comfortable with having Iwa join us sometimes... did you know he hooked up with Hinata in Brazil.” She drunkenly giggled.

“What no way! If I remember this in the morning I’m definitely grilling Hinata over it.”

“I require evidence of it happening if it does.”

“Why would I be mad about you sleeping with Akaashi?” He wonders not even noticing how the two of them had been slowly moving closer to each other. “He liked you in his third yea, would message me about it sometimes.”

“Shit really? He was at a party and looked really awkward in his first year of college, I ended up taking him home and well.”

“Ah yeah... so did he bottom?”

“Fuck yeah he did.” Tatsu laughed. “Kuroo is the only one who tops me... out of everyone I’ve slept with, Iwa came close but Kuroo is a very dominating man.”

“As in you two still fuck?”

“Yeah sometimes. What’s with all the questions Kotaro?” Tatsu turned her head to face the man, their noses near touching.

“Are you with him? As in together?”

“No I’m not with anyone... I did say earlier I haven’t been able to get a dick appointment Kotaro.”

“Well, this may be the vodka talking, I have some pent up energy and you need dick... why don’t we...”

“Fuck I thought you’d never ask.” Her lips were on his faster than he anticipated their empty glasses falling onto the carpet. The dual haired man’s hands moved up her sides massaging the exposed skin of her thighs before pushing her beneath him.

“How about we make me the second one to top the great Tatsu Kageyama.” He growled into her ear making the dark haired woman moan and curse. Bokuto sat on his knees pulling off his shirt to show his torso to her hungry eyes. His golden eyes scanned her body finally taking in the fact that she was only wearing a large shirt and underwear. “Tease.”

“I’m a tease?” She asked raising a brow.

“Just a shirt, panties and...” his hands moved beneath the shirt, his breath hitched. “No bra naughty girl. Did you expect this?”

“No.” She hummed in amusement. Bokuto snorted and gave an experimental squeeze making her moan again. He removed his hands letting the lightly train her skin beneath the shirt until they grasped at her hips and forcing her to grind against him. “You’re so forward Kotaro... wouldn’t have expected this.”

“What did you expect? To be needy and a virgin like Kaashi was.”

“No... maybe with more jokes or oooh.” His thumb pressed to her clit making her shut up.

“Sensitive already? I haven’t even begun baby.”

Moments later all articles of clothing were gone and Bokuto was busy covering Tatsu’s chest in marks. The small blemishes making the confident woman shake with desire as Bokuto dragged his teeth and tongue across her skin. He was drawing it out, his hips gyrating agaisnt hers but not entering her. He could feel how wet and needy she was and she could feel how hot and hard he was.

“Fuck me Ko.”

“Magic word.”

“Please fuck me till I can’t walk.”

“Get on your hands a knees... might want a new couch soon.” He chucked.

Tatsu was quick to do as he said, her head resting on the arm of the chair her ass facing towards him where he could see her glistening core. His fingers dragged up her thighs slowly and lightly, barely touching her and making goosebumps. A finger slides through her folds making her clench over nothing- making him smirk.

He swore and settled between her legs easing himself into her. She swore loudly.

“Fuck.. so.. big.” She whimpered.

“What happened to my witty Tatsu. Is she just my obedient little birdy now?”

“Hmm yes Ko.”

“Good.” He whispered in her ear, licking her neck. He braced himself above her, using the arms of the chair (considering she was quite tall herself). With a sharp movement he bucked into her. She whimpered. He smirked and repeated the action over and over till she was shaking. Continuously he rammed him hips agaisnt hers somehow getting deeper each time. A hand came to her breast and grabbed it, massaging it and playing with it.

Tatsu was shaking. She’s had rough sex but not like this, she was stretched both inside and out for him and each thrust made her squish further and further into the soft cotton of the chair. Her thighs began to shake a tell tale sign that she was close. Her breathing became rapid and it felt like Boku-Kotaro was getting closer to her, his washboard abs (as she’d joke) pressed agaisnt her lower back making her feel each and every spasm and tightness in his abdomen.

“I’m gonna.”

“Cum.” He commanded softly. He felt her body collapse into the chair, thankfully one arm had propped itself onto the arm keeping her from going face first into the cushion. He kept rocking in and out even as he felt her walls tighten around him edging him closer. When he came he could still feel her squeezing him, milking his dick. He relaxed above her allowing her to breathe.

“Holy shit Kotaro.” She said shakily.

“How was that?”

“Great... although.” She teased.

“What? Don’t tease me I am still hard and still inside you.”

“I asked you to fuck me till I couldn’t walk...” she yelped as he thrust into her again. “I have a perfectly good bed let’s use it.”

“You’re in for a long night.” He smirked. “Pent up energy and all that.” He joked. She laugh allowing him to move out of her, making her feel empty, he picked her up and carried her to her room.

“I can’t wait.”

The morning after, gentle warmth from the sun shon through the sheer curtains. Tatsu groaned and rolled over- she hit a chest. Arms wrapped around her waist and a chin moved to nestle in her hair. She opened one eye still to tired to be quite awake. Bokuto laid beside her, holding her as close as he could to himself. Tilting her head up she saw the loose strands of silver and black resting agaisnt his forehead. She smiled at his peaceful expression before a thought sprung her mind.

She really hoped he hadn’t actually fucked her till she couldn’t walk.

A slowly as she could she moved out of his strong arms and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. With feet placed firmly on the ground she slowly stood, ignoring the chilling air on her naked body. She was shaky but she could stand.

“Looks like I didn’t fuck you hard enough.” Tatsu spun around causing her legs to give way as she crashed into the mattress. “Oops sorry Tatsu.”

“Fuck you.”

“No I fucked you... I mean if you really want you probably could fuck me.” He teased.

“I didn’t think you’d actually fuck me till I couldn’t walk Ko.”

“Learnt your lesson?”

“My lesson?”

“Don’t tell me to do something and expect I won’t actually do it... get back in bed I want snuggles... and I’m definitely calling an Uber to bring us breakfast.”

“Make yourself at home.” She laughed.

“Okay.”

“Wait Ko-“

#haikyuu #haikyuu oc #haikyuu smut #bokuto smut #kotaro bokuto smut

40 notes · View notes

stevenbasic · 4 years ago

Photo

Sitting alone in the small chair in front of her desk, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was already being submissive, that he was acting contrite, before the meeting even began. He’d been cowed by what happened last night, and could swear the girls were looking at him funny when he skulked into his office this morning. Did they all know already?? What happened with Randi? It all made him nervous, and he knew it did nothing but undermine his authority and make him look weak.

And then there were the stream of aggressively confident posts Melissa had put on Instagram last night, and those he’d woken up to. “I’m proud of being a woman”? #simpforme, #motheryourman, #getready? “there’s gonna be a lot more of it”?? #stronger #bigger #successful. And - the baby-bird thing??? Jesus. It was like he was watching her spread her wings and he felt, this morning, like he was just cowering in her shadow.

She’d texted him this morning, said she’d wanted to meet with him in her office at 9, and had cleared the patients from his schedule. It was 9:05, looking at his watch. Every moment that went by felt like another nail in the coffin of his control of the office. I can’t let this happen, he tried to steel himself, I have to somehow show that I’m in charge.

But then, he heard it. The unmistakable staccato of her heels approaching down the hallway - click-clack-click-clack, echoing like gunshots - was heavier than one would expect in the corridor. The sound made his heart start to race. Why am I so nervous?? The Instagram posts and the events of last night - the girls in his apartment, him stupidly letting Randi once again have her way with him - had him on edge. Plus, he slept lousy. What did Melissa want to meet about?

click-clack-click-clack. She was almost there.

Remember, he told himself, she works for you.

But as soon as she walked in, when she entered the room and seemed to draw all light to her, he immediately felt himself to be in the presence of a more powerful person. Reflexively, he stood, and tried to keep from gaping. Oh my god she’s huge, he balked, astounded by her height. The only reason she hadn’t had to duck to get through the doorway was because she’d had such large, eight-foot doors installed.

“Good morning,” she said, her smile ebullient, happy to find him here and deferentially waiting for her, standing at attention, “Oh, so chivalrous! I like a man with good manners.” She watched his face as he took in her outfit, her figure, how tall she was in her new shoes. Immediately she knew she’d chosen right: the aggressively low-cut pink sweater, the high-waisted, dark grey pants that helped make her look both hippy, authoritative and even leggier than usual. And then there were the shoes.

“th-those are some heels,” he admitted, his obsequious gaze finding the safest place to linger: her feet and the black, patent leather pumps which made her...oh my god...he couldn’t bear to think how tall she’d be.

“Yeah huh?” she smiled, appreciating the crack in his voice, the submissive body language he was already assuming, standing there for her. She moved towards her desk, making sure to step as close to him as possible. “My friend Abby dropped them off for me this morning. They’re eight inches.”

“w-wow,” was all he could manage, dwarfed as he felt as she - standing well more than a foot taller than him - passed by. He knew he’d already started acting the simp, taken off his guard by her appearance, and was too dazed to resolve himself otherwise.

“They make me almost six-foot ten,” she stated, seeing how flabbergasted by her height he seemed. Something inside her urged her to step back closer to him, stand above him, demonstrate how big she was and make him feel small. That feeling made her tingle dangerously, rushed blood to her chest, and it was a hard instinct to fight back. But instead she knew she should proceed carefully with him, start business, and so she moved behind her desk. “You’re waiting for me to sit, aren’t you?” she asked with an approving smile, “such a gentleman.”

“Oh, haha, yeah I guess…” he said, still finding himself awkwardly standing in place, fidgeting.

“Looks like your mother trained you right," she responded, and immediately saw the wince in his expression. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie,” she cooed, as he cast his eyes aside, “I forgot. Forgive me?” She watched him nod, wanly. It was obviously, even to this day, a tender subject with him. I have to remember, she thought to herself, poor thing didn’t have a proper mommy.

"Well, every girl likes a respectful man,” she continued, with a munificent smile. Standing behind her desk, she felt the authority the office’s place of power gave her. “Especially one who knows his place in front of the alpha female. But no...sit.”

He looked at her as if confused. She was waiting for him patiently, like she was testing his resolve. Reflexively, though, he began to sit, and felt immediately emasculated as she remained standing.

“Good boy,” she said in approval, allowing mischief into her smile for the first time. Oooo this is funn, she caught herself musing.

The shock of that - the infantile little praise, the talk of “alpha female” - was not one he’d expected. She’d played around like this last week, at the beach conference...but hearing it here in the office was another thing altogether. “We’re - haha - w-we’re still doing that?” he asked, looking up at her, feeling a dark shiver of self-abasement and secretly marveling at the perfect hourglass her trim but wantonly full figure cut above him, silhouetted against the white wall behind.

“oooo remember, sweetie,” she replied, “we’re alone, it’s just you and me.” With that, on cue, she tapped a button on her desk and the door to the office closed behind him; she liked the startled look that brought to him. “We don’t have to worry about what anyone else thinks and just fall into our...natural roles,” she purred, putting her hands on the desk to lean over towards him. She smiled as his eyes predictably darted to her cleavage. “We’ll just let nature take its course,” she stated, “How does that sound, Dr. J?”

“Oh, uh…” he stammered, temporarily spellbound by the sheer volume of bosom she’d put on display. This sweater, he found himself thinking, she wore this on purpose. And just as he was almost able to tear his gaze away from her breasts, she casually squeezed them together and his eyes remained fixed, for more than a moment too long. Letting nature take its course, he thought, might end up with my face buried up to my ears.

And so she had him speechless, already; that got her grinning. She brushed away an imaginary nothing from the swell of her right beast, keeping his gaze fixed right where she wanted it. Melissa knew what she needed to say in this meeting, the words she had prepared to get him to do what she wanted. But, gauging his reaction, she was seeing already that she wouldn’t have to work too hard. Her tits could do the heavy lifting.

“Enjoying the view?” she asked, after finally drawing her fingers away from her chest and immediately causing him to look away. He flushed red, caught staring. ”Omigosh you’re so cute when you’re blushing,” she giggled, only to cause a wave of jiggles to joggle through her chest, drawing his hapless gaze for another brief second. Her breasts were just so big, the huge soft swells of her cleavage the main attraction in the room and a magnet to his eyes.

She laughed. “So, you know why I’m dressed like this, right?” she asked, a wry smile acknowledging the blatant aggression of her outfit, “the heels, the tight pants…” For a moment she looked down at her own chest, then locked eyes with him. “...the boobage?”

“Uhhhh….”

”You know what I'm going to ask for, of course?” she continued, becoming struck by how adorable he was in his tongue-tied, defenseless denseness.

“A-a raise?” he asked, struggling with all his will to keep her gaze.

Her laugh was deep and sultry, one of a woman pleased. “No haha but…” she said, as she then gathered her arms under her breasts, cradling them to exaggerate their size, “…could I get one if I asked really nicely?”

Oh my god, he thought, as he felt his dick start to stiffen, no. this is...too much. But he didn’t have the will to protest, scold her. “Y-you know money’s been tight…”

“Haha I’m joking, you know I’m teasing!” she laughed, enjoying the bewildered look on his face and standing up straight again, “I know your numbers are down. But that’s why we need to talk, about Abby…”

Abby, he thought, she’s the sales-rep friend...from that weird pharm company. He’d resisted meeting with her from the beginning, unwilling to waste precious time on another salesmonkey pushing snake oil. He’d been inundated with their brochures, ignored countless phone messages, avoided their research papers in his email, and still he had no idea what their product really was. It seemed like they made one thing and one thing only: some sort of supplement for women of childbearing age. His was a geriatric practice! Why would they want him to be part of some clinical trial? It really made no sense and he’s really wanted no part of it.

But he knew Melissa felt otherwise.

Indeed, she knew getting a meeting together was important to Evolution Pharmaceuticals, really the main reason Abby had sent her the posting for this job in the first place. Abby had encouraged her to go for the position even though it was frankly above her abilities. But it was something, a challenge, a job maybe she could grow into…

...and now she fully intended to, in spades.

Melissa leaned in further again, over the desk towards him, her suddenly soft doe-eyes seeking his out. “Remember..it’s just you and me,” she sweetly cooed, putting her full breasts once again on obvious display for him, “nobody’s going to think less of you if you agree to this…” She allowed her chest to slowly push forward, her shoulders back. “...just let nature take its course.”

She knew he heard the encouragement in her voice. Her beauty held real power that she knew how to use, and she intended to put him at ease. In the moment, she knew he didn’t even realize that it was already working. Her eyes searched his and saw something they were looking for. A warm smile formed on her lips and she continued to let her body do all the work. His eyes all but unabashedly on her tits again, this was already happening just the way Abby said it would.

“So...about meeting with Abby...” she began, letting go just the faintest waft of her pheromones, to drift across the desk, just enough to-

“yes okay I’ll do it,” he answered, without even having to be asked.

What?? Haha omigod.

“You...will?” she beamed, her smile becoming a sudden, dazzling grin. It can’t be that easy, can it? Admittedly a bit surprised she was immediately struck by one self-aggrandizing thought: she loved being this beautiful...and this big. She loved the feeling of being stronger and more powerful than those around her. She loved how her body, her buxom sexuality, could be so simply and so extravagantly too much for people; how it reduced them to putty in her hands, paralyzing them for her with nothing more than a smile and a look. And, what’s more, she was beginning to realize what else she could accomplish, given the time. She knew, secretly, that the bigger she got, the more Melissssy there was, the easier it would all become.

So bring it on, she thought to herself, give me more. She had to keep herself from laughing. Who needs an associate’s degree when you wear an I-cup?

“Ok I’ll call her, put it in your schedule right away,” Melissa said in victory, knowing she had to be gentle and watching as he had begun, it seemed, to sheepishly shrink into the chair below her. This was emasculating for him, she knew, capitulating like he was in his utter defenselessness. It gave her a thrill, she had to admit, flexing her authority here in the office, dwarfing him like this, dwarfing a man. She knew it was possibly unfair, that she’d had the deck stacked against him by coming at him with all this in his most fragile moments...but it needed to be done, and she would show him it was all for the best. And, she thought slyly, she would someday make it up to him, make him forget how little she’d just made him feel. Unless, of course, he likes that sort of thing...

But in the meantime-“, she knew she had other work to do, and as the saying goes about the hot iron and the striking-

“Let’s talk about new staff,” she said innocently, “I want to hire twelve more girls.”

“T-twelve?” he blurted, shaken a bit back to himself, “Really? Didn’t we lose just, like...five?”

“It was three, and then three part-timers,” she corrected him, “But I want to bring on twelve full-time people. A nurse practitioner, maybe a PA, a nurse Nurse Asstha...Attess…”

“Aesthetician?” he helped, even through his disarray.

“Yes, that..!” she giggled, “I’ll learn how to say that someday!” Twirling her hair girlishly in between the fingers of one hand, she stood again. “New providers, they’ll all need support staff, plus we have to replace the girls in accounting,” she listed, now starting to step away from behind her desk, “and we need a new supervisor for the front desk, unless you think Audrey is up for the job…?”

He paused, a bit confused, watching as she lazily stepped towards him. Was she actually asking for his opinion? Wait...he thought, why am I surprised by th- This was obviously getting away from him too quickly. “Uh, sure, but…” he began, “are you positive we can handle so many ne-”

“Oh, sweetie,” she cooed, now standing right next to him, above him, noticing how he’d reflexively turned his chair to face her, “we can handle it no problem. Maybe it’s just you that’s having some trouble?” She looked down at him, her employer, and mused on how anxious and small he looked. She reached down to tenderly push a wayward lock of hair behind his ear. “Besides...don’t you want to see us grow?”

What did she mean? “W-well, yes, of course,” he agreed, fighting the urge to turn his head, nuzzle his face into her soft hand as it continued to stroke his temple, above his ear, “of course I want the p-practice to do well. To, uh...grow.” His thoughts drifted to a day, maybe not far away, of an office she’d built for him, of being surrounded by more women than he could count, all young and beautiful, all doting on him...and of course, all beholden to her.

Is that what she meant by wanting to “see us grow”?

“So, uh, sure…” he said, knowing again it was another little surrender, “hire whoever you want…” He knew this was reckless, foolish even, and could only hope beyond hope that this money from - what was it? Lean In? - would be enough.

Melissa - thrilled again but now keeping her grin in check - saw the doubt in his face. She understood this was hard on him, watching the reins of his business being taken by another, and knew she should...reward him.

She stroked his hair - oooo he had such nice hair - and thought to herself.

It was just like Abby said. This was a man, she considered, remembering the type of pictures he’d been hoarding on his computer, who needed a strong female figure. This was a man, remembering what he’d told her about his childhood, who craved a woman’s constant attention, unconditional affection. This was a man - it almost made her giggle - who needed a mommy.

Just last night in DM Ms. Zazanetti - oops, I’m supposed to call her ‘Sara’! - had told it to her straight, made her understand. It's not taboo that he’d been stockpiling pictures of beautiful, ultra-bosomy, giant women on his computer, but rather the reasonable needs of manchild who never really had a childhood. He had told it to her himself, the night at that bull-riding bar: that he “never really had a mother.” And she’d heard it from Rina - who come to find out used to work here, and was one of his old flings - he’d lost her at a very young age.

Omigod the poor thing!

She knelt down in front of him, heart growing in her chest as she looked deep into his eyes. The desperation, she knew, ran deep in his mind, looking for fully blossomed women. His breast obsession was a consequence of what he missed as a child, a toddler, an infant - being coddled, nurtured, loved. And, she reminded herself, it wasn’t just pictures of random huge, big-breasted women he’d had on his computer. There were also countless pictures of her. It was a significant moment, when she’d realized what she represented to him, what she could strive to be for him - even if his male pride keeps him from ever really expressing himself, admitting what he needs.

#motheryourman, remember?

Still gazing at him, wondering what he was thinking, she smiled to herself. Well, he’s not “your man” but - haha - close enough, right?

“You’ve been doing such a good job, being so strong,” she said to him, tenderly, taking one of his hands into both of hers and resting it on his lap, “especially with everything going on.”

”uhhh...what do u mean?” he asked. There was - good god - so much going on. But...looking into her eyes, he suddenly knew what she meant.

“When were you going to tell me? I had to hear it from Marisela,” she said, sounding a bit sad that he would not confide in her, about his troubles at home...or, rather, what used to be his home, “I thought we were friends…”

========================================

Thanks to GTScity reader @sherlock for inspirations and ideas - they really helped the post coalesce. And to FantasticMrMoose - fans may notice that a few passages are all but stolen right from "Sexy Lexie": awesome story!

#Growing Into the Job

94 notes · View notes

blubberingmess · 4 years ago

Text

Magnet fishing (Bucky x reader)

Summary: you have a hobby and that is magnet fishing, always expecting a few metal scraps and weird, random thingies but one thing you didn't expect at all is a man with a metal arm.

Word count: 1787

Note: I don't doubt a person with a single neodymium magnet disk could lift someone like Bucky out of a lake... possible but tough.(just an opinion)

*check out my masterlist for more shits :)*

You finally have a place you could call yours, a bit far out from the nearest village but it's fine, you like the serene atmosphere this small secluded place gives.

The said place you are talking about is just a small cabin, old but still livable. Plus, it's warm and still sturdy after years of abandonment. You got the cabin for less than what you've expected which is quite a steal.

When you decided to buy the place, the seller's eyes almost roll out from their sockets at how wide his eyes went. It got you confused and asked why, and the answer is kinda weird and also downright ridiculous.

An organization called "Hydra" once scouted the area for years a few decades ago, looking for something rather important. Up until now, rumors spreads around that what this Hydra organization were looking for is still out there.

No one dared to go anywhere near the location, not even the bravest of souls. it's a ghost story the adults tells the children whenever they got curious about the said place, that a monster is resting beneath the waters of the frozen lake-- exactly where the cabin is just a few meters away--, ready to attack the person who is stupid enough to trespass it's sanctuary.

"--Who is stupid enough to trespass it's sanctuary," the old man finished, eyes narrowing at you as he emphasized the word 'stupid'. You just nodded your head and thanked the man, grabbed the keys to the cabin and walked away.

It's not just the solitude from civilization that got you interested in this so called 'sanctuary of the unknown', it's becasue of the frozen lake - You're a magnet fisherman--woman--, a hobby of yours. It's illegal on some places so you don't do it quite often despite having a permit, also, you have your own business back in your hometown - winery.

Magnet fishing is a dirty work and most of the time leaves you with just metal scraps, nails, and a few rocks. But the satisfaction you felt is oh so great when you got something more valuable; some lost things and some antiques that values a hefty amount of cash.

So when you heard about the lake, the cabin; both a mile and a half away from the nearest village, you immediately packed all your things and bid your family and friends goodbye back in your hometown.

"Let's check this baby out!" You grinned, pulling out your newly bought neodymium magnet disk from your bag and a long nylon rope. Thankfully, some part of the lake is already melted so you don't have to break the ice yourself.

(Fun fact: neodymium magnet is the most widely used type of rare-earth magnets, also used as jewelry clasps. But they do not significantly attract gold, aluminium, and silver. Which I didn't know until I made this fic. *shrugs*)

It's been a good ten minutes and your magnet still haven't caught anything. Huffing in slight frustration, you hauled your magnet back from the water and changed your position to the other side of the lake.

Once again, throwing the magnet as far as you can and mentally pat yourself in back when it submerged quite far off from where you are standing.

It didn't took you long before you felt something stick to your magnet, a slight pull of the rope indicates it. As you tried to haul the magnet back up, you were shocked at the weight. It's almost unrelenting that you feared it'll slip off from the magnet and with a lake like this, there's a little chance your magnet will find it again.

"Easy, easy," you whispered to yourself, calming your nerves before giving a firm yet strong tug. It works as you felt the mystery metal goes unstuck to wherever it was. Carefully pulling the disk back to the surface with much more effort than you would've though, you finally caught a glimpse of metal - a bit rusty but still shiny looking.

Slowly, you took a step forward all while still gathering the rope and almost stumble down on the thick snow when you noticed what the metal is; a hand. It didn't stop you as you kept on pulling, to the point where the hand finally hits the snow and realized that it's not just a hand.

It's okay, you thought to yourself. It's just an arm shaped metal, must be from a statue.

But you are wrong. As you cautiously walked towards it, you catch sight of something that makes your heart jumps out from your chest and it's definitely not in a good way.

The metal arm that you thought was just from a statue is actually connected to a person; a man - a dead, frozen man

"Holy shit!"

You gulped, staring down at the frozen corpse in front of you. From his chest down still submerged in the cold, icy water. The cold air seeping through your thick clothes yet your palms are sweating as you stand there not knowing what to do, hands tightly wrapped on the nylon rope, just staring at a dead man with a metal for an arm.

This is terrifying, you need to call the police. You mentally groaned remembering that there's no signal around here, but you have your snowmobile so you could use that instead.

Contemplating if you should make a run for it and call the cops from the village or just kick the corpse back in the lake and walk away like nothing happened; maybe even book the next flight back home.

Sadly, you can't do the latter... corpse float.

The magnet is still attached to the metal arm so you gave a strong tug hoping it would separate from the corpse, but sadly, it wouldn't budge.

A small curse and another pull.

A loud curse and another stronger pull.

Frustrated, you were about to scream-- maybe even cry-- when you suddenly saw movements coming from the metal arm, precisely, the fingers. It twitched and so does his body, you grew terrified when his head slightly turned to the side, his back slowly rising and falling, breathing weakly.

"Holy... shit."

"Hi officer, yes, he's alive. I saw- I mean, caught the man from the lake with a magnet disk..." You groaned and shake your head, downing the rest of you wine.

You can't just mention a magnet disk, you don't know if magnet fishing is legal in this part of country - or should you say area.

Fuck me. Forgot to ask permission.

It's been four days since you hauled the man from frozen lake, changed him from his wet, heavy looking of what seems to be his tactical gear to something comfortable; an oversize shirt(on you, it is) and a baggy pair of sweatpants. Not an easy task but you managed to do it.

The man, he isn't some normal fellow you'd see anywhere. There's something more, maybe he's the "something" Hydra is looking for? Is he the ghost? Impossible, it's been decades since that happened. The organization stopped looking for him decades ago.

Who is he? Why does he have a metal arm?

Questions began running around inside your head, different kinds of possibilities that mostly lead you if not in jail; six feet under. Just the thought of it makes you want to vomit and choke on it until you pass out - maybe you could receive some kind of pity and let you off the hook.

You felt yourself slightly gag at the thought of choking on your own vomit.

"The only things I'll ever be choking on is pizza and my future husband's dick," you grumbled to yourself, glaring down at the empty glass in your hand before sighing and turning around.

You suddenly come face to face the man you called 'corspe' multiple times in your head four days ago for twenty minutes, standing strong and tall, an aura that practically screams "touch me and I'll break your neck."

He watch you watch him in fear and curiosity, body rigid and alert for what's about to happen.

What's about to happen?

Ten years later...

"And that's how I met your father," you finished the story, grinning down at the little girl in front of you.

She 'oh'ed, staring up at you with her big sea blue eyes, full of curiosity and amazement. "So he's the ghost?" She asked with her squeaky voice, grabbing the last cookie from the paper plate between the two of you and began munching on it.

You chuckled. "I would say 'a really clumsy man who fell from a flying helicopter while running away from the bad guys' but yeah, sure."

"Awesome," she whispered-yelled making you laugh at her cuteness, scooting closer towards your daughter to wipe off the crumbs from her cheek.

"So this is where my girls are hiding." A familiar voice sounded from the small entrance of the tree house. Looking over, you saw your husband climbing up the ladder.

"We're not hiding, daddy!"

"Of course you're not, princess." He sat himself beside your daughter and raised a brow at you, a smile on his face. "But your mother here is."

"I'm not hiding, daddy," you repeated your daughter's words, fluttering your eyelashes at him with a grin on your face, biting your lips to prevent yourself from laughing.

His eyes darkens but he kept the smile on his face, pretending he didn't caught the look on your face he know all too well. "Yes you are, honey. Anyways, what are you two talking about?"

"The day you first met!" Your daughter beamed.

"Really?" Buck's eyes flickered at you for a moment as he spoke.

The little girl nodded her head enthusiastically. "Yup! It's so romantic," she sighed dreamily but she frowned when she pat the paper plate and found it clear from those delicious cookies Wanda baked for her.

"Oh, the cookies are gone, can I get some more, mommy?"

"Okay, sweetie. Be careful on your way down."

The two of you watched your daughter climbs down the ladder with ease, already familiar of the steps and the safe places to put her feet on.

After a moment of silence, Bucky speaks up. "You didn't told her about me frozen under the lake for three decades, did you?"

"Nah. Told her I saved you from drowning while I'm fishing at a random lake; miraculously woken you up with a kiss."

"That sounds ridiculous."

"Also, don't worry, I didn't tell her I jumped your bones on the fifth day of knowing you."

@jasondean1972 I saw you reblogging and liking my posts while I'm editing this, and I love it 💛 don't worry, I think I'll be making my android!Bucky one-shot a series.

#bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader fluff #Bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader smut #james buchanan barnes #avengers x reader #bucky x chubby!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fic

336 notes · View notes

tensonline · 4 years ago

Text

busy busy boy

based off of the “wayv as male thot jobs post”

this is footlocker employee!xuxi and coworker o/c

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

You were tired.

Your feet are aching from standing for almost the entirety of your shift. For the past six hours, you’ve had to deal with greasy teenage boys looking for the latest Nike shoe, helicopter parents wanting to make sure their kid had the best fit and angry customers trying to make a return without their receipt. Working at Foot Locker was exhausting.

“Hey _____, do you want to take your fifteen? I can cover you for right now,” your coworker, Seulgi, said.

“Oh my god yes please,” you said. Bless Seulgi’s heart, you thought. Your patience was starting to diminish by the hour. It was already five hours into your shift and you still hadn’t eaten lunch nor did you get enough sleep last night. College was a bitch and so was that Sensation and Perception class.

“Go ahead and go, I got you,” Seulgi replied.

“Do you want anything from Starbucks?,” you asked, “I gotchu so don’t worry about it.”

“Just an iced americano, please,” she said, “I’ll Venmo you the money when you come back.”

“Don’t worry babe. I’m pretty sure Ten is working right now anyway,” you said. Your childhood best friend and roommate had left earlier than you in his Starbucks uniform, but he mentioned covering a coworker’s shift.

Seulgi laughed, “Got it. By the way, give him my number, yeah?” Seulgi threw a wink at you as you gagged. “Fine, fine. I’ll be back with our drinks. Good luck with the white mom over there by the Air Jordans. She’s been trying to get us to give her an employee discount.”

Seulgi rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath as you walked away. You laughed at her reaction and hoped for her sake that the mom wouldn’t try to mess with her. Seulgi was incredibly intimidating when she wanted to be.

Working at the mall wasn’t as bad as you originally thought it would be. Since most of the workers were college students from either your school or the nearby universities, you enjoyed talking to your coworkers. They made your shifts bearable and entertaining.

It also helped that your childhood best friend worked at the Starbucks in the very same mall. You and Ten had grown up together and formed a friendship in middle school. Both of you stuck by each other in high school, applied to nearly the same schools, and decided to enroll in the same university. It was known that wherever Ten went, so did you. You two were inseparable.

As you rounded the corner, you saw Ten at the counter laughing at what someone was saying. Of course, he’s flirting on the job. Well, you mused, at least this one has a nice back. And he’s tall.

Wait.

He’s wearing a black and white short sleeve shirt.

You would know that hideous uniform anywhere, especially since you were wearing the exact same one.

Ten was talking to Huang Xuxi.

Huang Xuxi was one of the golden boys of your university. Captain of the soccer team, charming, incredibly handsome, and tall. (You’re pretty sure he’s around six feet. God.) Xuxi was known for just how talented he was on the field and for just how good he was in bed.

Granted, he wasn’t that much of an asshole. He never strung more than one girl along. He made sure every person he hooked up with knew that there was nothing more attached to it and if they did not want that, they were free to walk away and pretend nothing had ever happened. No hard feelings. Because of his transparency with partners and tight lips, no one ever had anything bad to say about him.

In fact, it was the girls he hooked up with instead that opened their mouth and bragged about having sex with him. They talked about how he always made sure they came first, how good he was with his mouth (in more ways than one), and his hands.

His gigantic fucking hands that could singlehandedly hold one iPad.

(You’ve witnessed it before and fuck was that one of the weirdest things that have turned you on).

Ten was still smiling and laughing at whatever Xuxi had said to him when he glanced up and noticed you. His face immediately changed into a mischievous smirk and when glanced at Xuxi and back to you. Ten knew how hot you found Xuxi and how much of a work crush you refused to admit you had.

That bitch, you thought. Ten better not say any dumb shit or I’m kicking his ass when we’re at home.

“Hey _____,” Ten said smugly, “What are you doing here?”

You were so gonna kick his ass.

“Hi Ten, can you make me an iced chai with soy and an iced americano? I have to bring it back to Seulgi before my break ends,” you said with a strained smile. You refused to have him and Xuxi in the same room for a long time. It would only end with Ten embarrassing you.

“Sure, let me just go get more stuff from storage,” he said while grinning.

You were glaring at Ten’s back as he walked away when Xuxi finally spoke.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You hated how flustered you felt when he called you that.

You took a deep breath and put a sultry smile on, dialing up the charm. You turned around to see Xuxi smiling down at you with a fond look in his eyes. You felt your ears getting read and cursed yourself mentally.

Get a grip bitch, he can’t know how much you want to swallow his dick.

“Hey Xuxi,” you said with your best flirty voice, “Are you gonna start your shift soon?”

“Yeah, I clock in soon, like around twenty minutes or so. Are you gonna be working with me for a bit, baby?” he replied with a gentle smile.

You hated how easily he could call you pet names and hated even more how much it affected you, but you would never outwardly show it. Even if you did want to fuck him.

“Yeah, I got three more hours to go. I haven’t taken my lunch yet though since I’m trying to leave early.”

“Oh?,” Xuxi perked up “You wanna get lunch with me then?”

Fuck. He was so fucking cute. And that was worse than sexy.

“I’m sorry babe, but I promised Jennie I would eat with her after she finished her shift. We’re supposed to be going over to Jisoo’s after work,” you apologized. You didn’t even notice the pet name you just gave him but he did. While he perked up and looked at you with a gleam in his eye, you mulled over how you had already made plans in advance to meet up with your other best friends.

“Ah, it’s okay. Some other time, yeah?”

“Of course. Besides, I’ll ask the manager if she’ll let us work on the floor that way you can tell me all about your game last night?” you said. Your words ended off with a question. God, you regretted saying that as soon it came out. You didn’t want to be that annoying bitch who just kept fawning over him and never letting him breathe. Xuxi brightened up. “Yes! God, I hate being on the floor with Matthew. He won’t stop talking to me about his latest gym session and the new protein he’s trying out. You know yesterday he texted me telling me I need to work on my tits? Not chest or pecs, tits.”

You busted out laughing. Your coworker, Matthew, who usually went by BM, was such a gym bro.

As you and Xuxi kept talking about your coworkers' antics and updated him on what has happened today, Ten had already come out and started working on the drinks. He noticed how Xuxi and you had moved away from the counter to stand by the windows. He didn’t even think you noticed the change or how Xuxi looked at you.

Yes, Xuxi was a huge manwhore and had a body count that could rival the number of goals the soccer team scored last season. Yes, he was known to not date or keep a girl for longer than two weeks. But Xuxi looked at you like he was endeared. Like he was intrigued. He and Ten had quite a few mutual friends, so Ten is no stranger to seeing Xuxi flirt. With you though, it was different.

Xuxi looked like he wanted to ravish you and hold your hand. He looked at you as if he was hooked on your every word, and he was.

Ten smiled to himself.

“_____, your drinks are ready!” He yelled out.

You startled and turned when Ten called your name. You had nearly forgotten you were on your very short fifteen-minute break and had to get to work before your manager fired you. Talking to Xuxi just made you tune out everything else.

“Let’s go back to work together, I’ll just sit in the back while waiting,” Xuxi whispered to you. Turning back around, you startled when you realized just how close his face was to yours. Just What the fuck. How did he get so close? Why does he smell so good? How is his skin so clear?

This isn’t fair, you dejectedly thought. Xuxi had no visible pores at all while you were wearing the e.l.f primer and translucent powder to make sure your skin doesn’t look cakey.

The fuck, must be nice being born with naturally good skin. It saves you money AND time.

“Okay,” you mumbled. You glanced down at his lips and….. Wow. Are they naturally that big? Did he get fillers? What other body parts were big besides his lips, hands, and di---

“_____?”

“Yes!,” you jumped. You made the mistake to make eye contact with Xuxi while he smirked as if he knew that you were gawking at him.

“Let’s go back to work, okay babe?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Sure,” you said dazedly.

“Hey _____, hurry the fuck up and come here,” Ten said.

You walked up to him and Ten yanked you so hard that you basically had half your body on the other side of the counter.

“Get it together bitch,” Ten whispered. “You did not waste some of your primer and the jeans that make your ass look good just to make an ass out of yourself. Stop being ditzy and starting flirting, you slut. I know you want to suck his dick. Plus, you need to get out of this dry spell you’re in. That belt you have on is basically a chastity one. Especially since it's from Ross.”

You gasped. “First of all, fuck you, you classist bitch. Second of all, I am not in a dry spell. We’re just not all massive hoes like you.”

“Yeah well, I’m a bisexual. And a dancer. And one that lives in Los Angeles. Everyone knows we’re the biggest sluts there is. And don’t change the subject. The last time you got laid was at that frat party which was last fucking month. You hooked up with Mingyu, remember?”

“Yeah,” you sighed dreamily. Mingyu was in your top five best lays ever. You knew that football player strength would have come in handy. “God, he was so good. He was huge AND had the strength to throw me around. You know I love men that can carry me.”

“Yes, I do, unfortunately. I also know that so can Xuxi over there. But guess what? He won’t unless you just keep staring at his blowjob lips and acting like some shy virgin. Now go, I want you to bring out the hoe side of _____ and have him so wrapped around your finger that he daydreams about you when WAP comes on,” Ten hissed as he practically shoved you away.

As annoying as your roommate may be, he was right. You wanted that dick. And you were going to get it.

You took a deep breath, fixed your posture, and straightened out your shoulders. Grabbing the drink carrier from Ten, he quickly fixed your hair and whispered “That’s it. That’s the hot _____ I know. Go make me proud.”

You walked back to where Xuxi was leaning by the door. “Ready?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. Xuxi locked his phone and put it in his pocket. When he lifted up his, you gave him your best sultry smile.

“Let’s go then,” you said, with a suggestive tone.

Xuxi smirked as he opened the door for you. He had a sinking feeling that whatever you and Ten were having a whispering match about, would end with him in trouble.

But he wouldn’t mind at all, especially with your ass looking that good in those pair of jeans and smelling so damn good.

#wayv x reader #wayv x you #nct x reader #lucas x reader #xuxi x reader #yukhei x you #yukhei x reader #wayv imagines #wayv drabbles #wayv lucas #wayv ten

78 notes · View notes