#There's nothing that pisses me off more than getting bad tofu | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kxmikomrade · 2 years

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I posted 523 times in 2022

That's 523 more posts than 2021!

166 posts created (32%)

357 posts reblogged (68%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mx-kamisato

@i23kazu

@aphrodicts-imagination

@evelxtus

@fuoon

I tagged 305 of my posts in 2022

Only 42% of my posts had no tags

#genshin x reader - 38 posts

#genshin impact - 28 posts

#genshin imagines - 16 posts

#kim ari - 15 posts

#genshin fluff - 11 posts

#genshin xiao - 10 posts

#genshin - 9 posts

#genshin diluc - 9 posts

#genshin thoma - 8 posts

#kazuha x reader - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 79 characters

#i remember just using mongo seeds in 4th grade since i didnt have anything else

My Top Posts in 2022:

✧˖࿐ 'Could've been better' - Xiao

╰┈➤Xiao x Reader Order: Qinxin (Xiao), Hot Chocolate (Angst) Genre: Angst gn!reader Pronouns: Y/P (your pronouns) Type: Oneshot Requested! by: Anon in this request Warnings: idk just angst Waiter's Notes: Your Order has been served Traveler! :>, Enjoy your nice cup of hot Chocolate with Qinxin Author's notes: Craving angst i see? well here u go! i didnt have so much motivation while writing this so i asked my close friend @astrilien to help me write it but hey, it works. 2 writers is better than 1. Try not to cry while reading dis

Where did you go wrong? You often ask yourself that nowadays. He, the man whom you've grown to love, doesn't look at you the way he did before. Actually, does he even look your way without that uninterested face? His eyes used to soften whenever he looked at your small smile, his face used to go beet red whenever you had the slightest bit of physical contact. Now, well, lets see for ourselves, shall we?

Walking up the stairs of the place known as 'Wangshu Inn', you notice that a part of the stairs are broken. Sighing as you went back your way to go to the elevator, you liked walking from the stairs to enjoy the beautiful view displayed by the tree. Stepping up the elevator as it lifts you up, you look down to the box of food in your hand. It was his favorite food, Almond Tofu. You had known that it was ever since the day you met the said person. Now that you think about it, it was the whole reason that brought you two together. And the mere thought of him choosing you never failed to leave you with a small blush and smile on your face.

To think that the guy who disliked mortals would fall in love with one. I mean, come to think of it, he DID seem pissed whenever you first visited him. But whenever he was offered that dish he would at least give them a few minutes to talk. They were always the key to getting close to the Yakasha. Reaching the balcony, you placed the box on the table. A gust of wind blew, ruffling your hair and yet......nothing. You don't hear him, looking back to check if your thoughts were right, No one was there. 'Huh, he's probably in Qingyun peak' you thought to yourself. He always showed up whenever you reached the balcony, but on some occasions, he's a but busy. Looking around, you spot a vase of withered flowers, specifically Glaze Lilies. Taking some extra silk flowers from your bag, and replacing those Glaze lilies with them. You kind of wish you got extra Glaze lilies, since you know how much they mean to him.

You dont know the full story, but from what he said, they seem to remind him of a person who was like a mother to him. It's quite adorable. So you planned to grow some Glaze Lilies soon. As time flies quick, it was now sunset. 'Where could he be?' you started to get concerned and as a bit of worry bloomed in your stomach, leaving you feeling uneasy. So, you decided to check with him, with the only way you knew. 'XIAO!!' A mix of black and Forest green particles appear, as Xiao's hair beautifully sways with the wind.

Polearm in one hand, he reached out to take off his mask. Looking everywhere but you. ''What?'' He says, a bit harshly but you brush it off. 'He just had a bad day' was your excuse. ''Sorry, i was just getting a bit concerned since ive been here for a few hours and you havent showed up'' You said, waving your hands in the first line. ''I dont need your pity'' He says as his eyes wandered somewhere else, subconsciously following them, your eyes landed on the vase of Silk Flowers. ''Oh, They were already withered so i replaced them with Silk Flowers'' explaining to him. Xiao grumbled something under his breath, ''Pardon?'' ''Nothing'' ''Dont worry! Ill get some the next time i come across them, and i'll also make sure they dont wither just as fast.'' You continued, being the helpful person you are. That was the first hint Another day has passed and xiao hasn't even showed himself to you, unless if you call his name. but he does come quite late. This time you decided to make him his favorite, almond tofu, for you had noticed that everytime you make it his eyes just screamed pure happiness. but i guess not today. as you called out his name he once again arrived late. "What is it?" he asks coldly as you just smiled, even knowing that something was wrong you decided to just shake the feeling off. "Xiao look! i've made your favorite!" you exclaimed happily as you handed him a plate full of almond tofu. "this is a waste of time" he just said as he teleports away, 'how rude' you thought as you placed the plate on the table and left hoping that he could at least eat it later if he feels like it The second hint that you had denied to notice it has been a week. a week of xiao constantly avoiding you, a week full of hints. but you again decided to close your eyes and pretend that he is just always in a bad mood. so what do you do whenever he's in a bad mood? not minding the countless hints. you confront him in a affectionate way. As he arrived by the call of his name he was certainly not surprised nor happy, he was pissed. "what do you want" he replied with a cold tone. he obviously wasnt happy to see you. but you denied it and just brushed it off "Xiao, we haven't been out on a date for a month now! why dont we go out for today!" You insisted as you had already planned everything out for the day but much to your surprise, he sighed in annoyance "why cant you just leave me alone" he grumbled, which shocked you at how direct he was. and you had enough of his attitude "look, Im atleast trying to lighten up your mood as you have been ignoring me and was always being so fucking cold" you snapped as he just stared at you then.. "do you even love me?" you said as the place was filled with silence, it hurts it hurts because you can see the answer from his eyes yet you refused to believe it, well at the very least you wanted to hear it exactly from him. you wanted the answer, even if it hurts. "Well then Xiao, answer. i want to hear your answer. i want to hear it exactly from you." you said as you looked straight into his eyes while holding back the tears. his face was just blanked, no emotions as he sighed and finally talked "no, i loved you" he said as you look at him "loved... so now you don't?" you asked as your head hanged low and stared at the ground "no.." he said as you nod your head "alright then, i wont bother you anymore" you said as you just walked away

A week has passed and you kept your word, you stayed away and left him alone. And with that you decided to go travel to another nation. which was inazuma. You thought it was the best so that you could get away from everything that would remind you of him. But to Xiao, he thought he was finally going to be free when you left. But he didn't even felt as if he were to be happy. it felt like he had lost something that completed him. he lost you. So he tried to find you and try to make things good again. but he was too late as you had already left, and wishing to forever forget about him. Would it be selfish of him to wish that you come back and tell him everything's going to be okay? or that if he could just wake up from this horrible nightmare that he had caused.

He loved you, and you loved him. if only he didn't decided to let his emotions get the best of him. Who knows? Maybe everything.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 'Could've been better'

See the full post

225 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

✧˖࿐ 'Our Last Dance' - Xiao

Author's notes: Dis wasnt written by me, it was written by my close friend on discord. she said dat it was fine if i post it here so enjoy :) HEHHEHEH

I know where this is going, yet Im still doing this. you thought while you were near death, you smiled at the one holding the very thing that he has used against you

"Alatus, have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are-" "Shut up, traitor" he shushed you, it was very obvious that he was holding back his tears. As he knew that death was just waiting take you away, and he was the very reason for it.

"Would you care for a dance?" You said with a smile and a hand out "w-what?" He looked stunned at your reaction. You was dying, yet all you care about is having a dance?

"I can hold on for at least 3 minutes, it won't take long" you softly said as you took the hand that was holding the spear he used to kill you and put it on your waist as you put your hand on his shoulder and held his other hand up

"Shall we?" You said as you rocked with the silence of the forest, it was quiet and peaceful. Too peaceful for someone like you to die in, that's why you had decided to take the opportunity to dance

As a minute passed you were already limping as your blood keeps on flowing, and the more xiao looks at your face the more he looked like he wanted to cry. Another minute passed as your body finally gave up. You couldn't handle it, yet your face was calm as ever looking at xiao's eyes tenderly

"H-hey, you said y-you can hold on" xiao tried saying as he helps you lay down "Heh, I can don't worry. I'm just taking a rest" you breathed out with a small laugh

"You know, I dearly love you" you said as you held his cheek gently cressing it. "Why" he choked out as his tears started flowing

"Because you made me feel things I thought I'd never deser-" "Why, would you go to me? Why? You knew from the beginning where this is going to end, yet" he started sobbing. "Now now alatus, I wouldn't want my last sight to be a crying you. Smile for me, as you have won against me" you said cheerfully like you were congratulating him

"Do you believe in reincarnation, Alatus?" You asked as you rub his cheek with your thumb slowly pulling him in for a hug

"You've always liked being held," you laughed as you placed his head on your chest for him to hear your last heartbeats as you played with his hair

He continues crying as he listens to you "I'd like to believe reincarnation, and if we were to be both reincarnated. I'd wish that I'll be able to stay by your side longer, without anything holding us back" you said as you kissed his forehead

He raised his head as he was still crying, you sighed "didn't I tell you to stop crying? Look im at death's door right now, I don't want to see you cry." You said as he cried even harder

"My poor baby, here I'll give you a kiss" you said as you pampered his face with kisses

With one final kiss on his lips as your hand was placed on his cheek

"I'll forever cherish the day I've met you, dear alatus" you had said as you had placed his head back to your chest only to hear that your heart has stopped beating and to feel that your hand had dropped to the ground

Yet he felt your lips on his head as he cried his eyes out knowing that you had finally died,

He should be happy that he has killed the spy. Yet he couldn't bring himself to even speak as he held your cold body closer

298 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

Imagine a Yuri x Spy reader, it would either be hella funny or angsty, or both. I might write one, idk do u guys want it?

Update:

Yesterday i went ''Im gonna write it when it reaches 30 notes'' so here I am. I'll be writing it however, it wont be soon because I'm also an artist who has ALOT of wips. Please understand.

If anyone wants to be tagged when I do write it, feel free to dm me or comment on this post saying 'Tag pls' or smth 2nd update: its on hold for now since i havent been active in dis fandom. I might have to re-read the manga to get motivation but until then pls wait patiently :)

360 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

Spy x family embarrassing and fluff headcanon moment for Yuri Brair when you (his wife, his not fake wife, Loid Forger's younger sister who was the same age as Yuri Brair, a spy in the same organisation as her older brother, codename Sunlight) said that he was very cute..it warmed your heart to see your husband spend time with his 2 year old daughter..you muffled your laughter in the doorway when your daughter threw her food at once she grabbed a handful and threw it at him when he was trying to feed her. Yuri could never get mad with her...he may be the secret police but he was a total softy with his toddler daughter ,Family life.

OMG DIS IS ADORABLE 😭😭 DONT TOUCH ME IM SOFT

384 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Cyno proposing: ''Will you marry me? Reply with Cy-yes or Cy-no'' Tighnari shedding a tear: ''Cyno….'' Cyno: Cyno: ''YOU DONT LOVE ME??'' Tighnari: ''THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT- I WAS CALLING YOU BY YOUR NAME''

1,416 notes - Posted September 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #sheesh dat shit long #why did it not just link da posts #cynonari nation #i love yall sm

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cheelduh · 3 years

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How to tie up a cute boy

(Highschool Au)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Parts: 1 2 3

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, Scaramouche abuse, no Signora slander this time, shit humour.

Synopsis: "Why are you doing homework?" Childe groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

Note: Unedited yet again besties. Tysm for reading :) I got Childe after losing him to mf MONA, istg it was the most stressful moment of my life.

The clock ticks with its pendulum, ridiculing you as it holds the time. The gentle whirring of the air conditioning in the background serves as the icing on the cake to your pent up aggression.

You try not to glare at your phone too much after receiving a text from Childe that told you not to worry, that his dad picked him up and that he was in the comfort of his home, letting the flu blow over.

It took a lot of convincing from his part earlier that morning to get you to go back and actually attend the rest of your classes, making sure to check up on him every break plus the additional "bathroom breaks" you usually never take while in class.

"I can't let you get in trouble for me." He murmured with a small smile that pumped your blood a little faster than usual. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry your pretty little head."

You do exactly that.

You don't even know why you're so worried. He's sick, not dying. Not to mention, you aren't even his girlfriend let alone his friend to care so much.

Your intrusive thoughts don't waste any time. You latch onto the one thought that takes over. He's probably dead. Lying in his bed in a heap of pillows, passing peacefully while his parents are in the other room. He's dead.

Okay, he's not dead. You intrusive thoughts sure do one hell of a job. He'll be fine, and in no time he'll go back to being a reckless distraction in your life that you need to surpass. Just another obstacle to add onto the list of things life has thrown at you.

But for an obstacle, he sure is kind of cute.

You refrain from bashing your head on the desk. School isn't really a preferred environment on your list of top ten places to shrivel up and die.

Speaking of death and all that is evil, why is Childe always on your mind? He takes up every nook and cranny of your day, constantly, and truth be told it's starting to boil your piss.

Every time you close your eyes you see his smug smile, and hear his stupid laugh. He's an annoying little prick who gets a rise out of exasperating you. Yet here you are, terrified by the warmth that blossoms in your heart when you so much as hear his name.

The final bell rings at long last, conveniently before you bite your tongue to avoid screaming, and not another second is wasted once you launch yourself out the door. You dodge through the crowd of students in the hall that are buzzing in excitement from it being a Friday afternoon, and you would be too if you weren't so damn hung up over a ginger with a battlekink.

Locker in view, you make a beeline and spend the next two minutes fumbling with the lock in your hands.

"Woah there cutie," Lisa speaks up playfully. "At this rate you'll break the poor lock with your bare hands."

For a moment you're surprised at her sudden appearance, but then remember that it's normal for her to worm her way anywhere.

"It's just—this lock is being dumb okay? It has no reason being a pain in my ass but it wakes up every day and chooses violence." You hiss through your teeth, a sharp metallic ring invading your ears when you lose it and jostle the combination lock against the door of your locker.

Lisa winces, but smiles teasingly nonetheless. "Want me to give it a try?"

"Please."

Lisa has the door open at record speed.

"I love you Lisa." You confess wholeheartedly, gripping at your chest. "I love you so much—"

"Yeah yeah," She waves you off with a grin. "Now hurry up and go save your boyfriend from the common flu. Archons knows he won't make the night."

You flush at the word "boyfriend" and don't give much thought to the insinuation that lies within the rest of her sentence.

Sliding your skateboard under an arm, you spin on your heel just to bump straight into Scaramouche, who's won the scowl of the century on his face. He's the last person you want to see right now, but apparently the universe wants to have a pissing match with you.

"Give this homework to that idiot Ginger." He shoves a stack of papers into you. "Tell him that once he's done circling the drain, I'm gonna kick his ass." He then leans in, murderous glint in his eyes. "And if you ever touch me again I'll take a shit in your cereal. That's not a threat, it's a promise."

You shiver at the thought of him squatting on your Cheerios, hands becoming clammy as you try and justify yourself. "It was an accident."

Your pitiful excuse earns you nothing from the navy haired boy. "It'll be an accident when I murder your entire family, three generations over."

"Hi Mona!" You wave excitedly over his shoulder at the body of students that are totally not Mona. With elation he fails to conceal, Scaramouche turns to look at the speed of light.

You take the chance to make your escape—not before waving to Lisa, chuckling to yourself. He's down bad.

With great expertise you file your way through the flock of students chattering near the entrance. , you confidently place your skateboard down on the sidewalk, ready to—

Wait—where does he live again?

You sigh heavily, ignoring the sadness as you thank the universe internally for pulling the reigns on your disastrous plan. Checking up on Childe at his house? With his family present? Making a complete fool out of yourself? What are you thinking? The possibilities are horrendous. He probably doesn't even think of you like that, he just likes a challenge and you pose as one.

You turn away to make a run for it in the direction of your home, all the while ignoring the nagging worry in your chest for Childe. He's probably fine anyways, you don't need to check up on him, and if you did he'd likely find a way to spin it and tease you relentlessly.

Although somehow, the thought of being teased by him isn't as dreadful as you'd like it to be.

Suddenly, an idea graces you, one that guarantees your misery by sating your obligation to check up on Childe. A litany of curses escape your mouth. Genius really, the amount of ways you can think of doing something that'll end in your demise.

"Adeptus Xiao." You whisper apprehensively, already regretting your decision. "Adeptus Xiao." Glancing around your surroundings, you barely notice the shadow that looms over you at your backside.

"What do you want mortal?" Unbeknownst to you, he strikes out of nowhere, making you jump back several meters. You manage to muffle a surprised shriek.

Xiao is Venti's -6 ft boyfriend, the vicious epitome of an eboy. He has a scaled tattoo covering up the majority of an arm, a few piercing holes in his ears, all matched up with a disinterested look. Somehow, he always appears out of nowhere if you call out his name. It's sort of disturbing in a way.

His amber eyes pierce through you, forcing a shudder of fear and dread to lace your blood, almost as if he can sense you shittalking him in your head.

With shaky hands, you ask, "Can you tell me where—"

"No."

"You didn't even hear me ou—"

"No."

"Please?"

He refuses to at least pretend to think about it for a moment.

"No."

"Why?" You frown, stomping your foot on the ground childishly.

"Because." He retorts with a lack of interest, but doesn't further explain his point. English teachers must love this kid.

"Okay," You say slowly, casually inspecting his form as you come up with an idea, briefly remembering Lumine mentioning it to you. "How about I give you my share on almond tofu Tuesday."

The lack of interest on his face wavers slightly. Bingo.

"What do you want mortal?" Xiao mutters gruffly, arms crossed, face morphing into subtle annoyance.

You wrack your brain for a proper answer. You can't just outright ask him or it'll seem like you have a thing for Childe, which you unfortunately do, but you'd like to keep a semblance of integrity. Ah yes, the homework!

"I gotta deliver these to Childe." You outstretch the pile of worksheets in your hands. "Except I don't know where he lives. Can you tell me?"

Xiao's eyes glint with danger. "Did you summon me for the trivial task of giving you an address?"

You nod furiously.

"Do humans have no shame?" Its rhetorical. Expressionlessly, he closes his eyes with intent focus, doing what you assume to be locating Childe's exact location.

He blinks an eye open, reaches a hand out. "Give me your phone." Palm waiting.

You hand it over to him almost desperately.

One glance at your bubbly phone case and he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. He taps a few times, then hands it back to you almost immediately.

On the screen is maps, and Childe's home is about a fifteen minute walk away.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"Easy," He mutters, leaning back against the school gate as the remainder of students walk past the two of you. "Locating demons that need subjugating is but a simple task."

There's a pregnant pause. Demon.

"Childe's a demon?" You gasp, even though you've always had your suspicions. Hence the reason you invest so much in demon-cancelling charms.

"What? No." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, and you note that his irritation grows the more questions you ask. "I had a physics project with him last semester."

That's why the charms don't work.

Your mouth forms an o, in fear that if you keep this conversation going on any longer, he'll snap at you. Especially when your next line of interrogation involves how he's able to appear and disappear into thin air.

It's a magic trick you'll want to master whenever Il Dottore has another conniption fit in the middle of the hallways after Kaeya tells him he looks like he has skid marks.

"Thank you." You say instead, trying to preserve his regard, but by the time you meet his gaze he's already gone with the wind.

—

Childe's home is surprisingly humble, considering the amount of fat stacks of cash he carries around in his fanny pack so care-freely. It's a normal suburban home from what you can tell, a little bigger than normal with a double garage, neatly mowed lawn and a few forgotten decorations from the windblume festival. A series of water guns lay forgotten near the entrance, making their presence known when you stumbled upon them.

It's hard to remain unphased. Especially since such a normal looking home has bred someone as ruthless as Childe.

Maybe it not the home, you think. Maybe it's the way he was raised. You recall a few glimpses of his mother in middle school, but because of your worse for wear memory retention, you can't ballpark her personality type.

As your thoughts wander further down to his parents and early childhood, villain origin story and what not, you're pulled out of your concentration when the door opens. The possible implications of being here are most definitely not in your favor.

Childe's mother is a stunning woman in her mid-forties who sure as hell doesn't show it in that jaw-dropping sapphire dress, topped off with a brilliant smile that makes your knees weak. Like mother like son, you suppose.

With her sudden appearance, strangely enough, you can remember how good her tiramisu bites are.

You take a moment to respond, swallowing thickly, only to stare at her stupidly.

His mother doesn't waste another second before ushering you in, oblivious to your star-struck expression. "Y/N? L/N Y/N? My have you grown. I remember when you were only this tall." She lifts her hand up a little above her waist, the jewels on her fingers dazzling with every movement. "How is your mother doing?"

"She's doing alright, busy with the clinic." You're able to find your words, smiling back at her, able to get somewhat familiar with her warmth. "I hope I'm not intruding. Childe forgot some homework." You say, heaving the short stack up.

"Ajax?" She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's going by that now. I wonder when this phase will be over. He may act tough but he's such a softie, has the biggest heart."

You, in between concealed emotions and giggles that threaten to leak, try to hide the oncoming grin but it's impossible. "Well he's got you to thank for it."

"You flatter me too much Y/N," She fixes the up do, pinning back the blonde hair that deftly frame her familiar cerulean eyes. "I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Her words make you waver momentarily. The fondness you've refused to share, the drawn out stares in the halls, the lingering touches, you don't want to acknowledge it but it's there. Whatever it is.

"I'm so sorry for cutting this short dear," His mother sighs, grabbing her keys off the counter and placing her wallet in an elegant handbag. "My niece is getting married and we're already late. I told Ajax I'd stay if he didn't feel too well but he said he could handle a headache. That boy, I swear, always tries to power through."

You nod in understanding, but wait a minute. A headache?

Scrunching up your face, eyebrows furrowed, you ask. "Headache?"

She frowns, applying another layer of her rouge lipstick hastily in a nearby mirror. "I know dear, how unfortunate. The school nurse said it's a migraine, and I shouldn't fret much, but a mother can't help but worry. If only he weren't so stubborn, like his father."

As if on cue, a loud honk comes from outside.

"That must be him!" She exclaims, hurriedly sliding in her heels, turning back to look at your awkward figure. "Ajax is in his room, it's the second door to the right upstairs. I've made some lasagna for the kids, you ought to have some as well, I'll be upset if you don't—" Another annoying honk cuts her off, to which she scoffs, shaking a fist. "That old man, I'll strangle him in his sleep. I must be going now, goodbye dear." She reveals a twinkling smile at you one last time, waving a slim hand before picking up her heels and making a run for it.

The door closes with an unceremonious thud, gust of wind in its trail, leaving a bewildered high schooler in its wake.

Snapping out of your haze, overwhelming tides threaten to drown you whole. Being in Childe's home, alone, with him a handful of stair steps and a wall or two away, your cheeks are set ablaze.

Now that his mother's gone, you take a second to really look. There are a few toys littered in front of the TV, home covered in with soft throws and coordinated cushions, a lazy sectional plopped right in the middle. The marks on the furniture with all the stories, the light hued mismatched frames hanging on the walls and on all the table, so many pictures of those that resemble him, his brothers, his sisters, his family. You can almost hear the echoing laughter in the halls, the childish squeals and pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the hardwood floor.

This is where he grew up. This is where he retires to after a long day full of gratifying fistfights. This is where he was raised to be who he is today, ambitious and reckless, with the absurd dream to one day rule the world. This is his home.

It's...like being wrapped in blanket, safe and cozy, surrounded by all the love in the world.

Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the outlines of a younger Childe, two missing teeth and eyes full of dreams, hugging the side of his father's shoulder because his small arms can't wrap around them. Not just yet.

You make your way over to the staircase, which has even more frames littered across the wall, one that falls short of hiding the marks of a green crayon—another slice of domesticity you aren't quite accustomed to.

The reality sets in, and you come to a conclusion. This home is definitely not an environment for growing psychopaths, Childe just beats the odds like he beats up kids on the daily.

Your fist hovers over his door as you contemplate abandoning the sheets on a nearby table, but his mother was so sweet and polite, so incredibly hospitable, you wouldn't have the heart to make a run for it.

"I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Three consecutive knocks. If he doesn't answer, you'll leave them at the door.

"Mama," Childe's muffled groans stem from the other side, and oh, you want to revel in the grave undertone of his voice because it's certainly not a common occurrence. "I told you I'm fine. You can go okay? I don't want you to be late, just need to sleep it off."

You blink, lips curling, and then knock again.

"Mama," He whines again, and it has you grinning mischievously. He's a mommy's boy, he has to be. The thought envelopes your heart with a newfound fondness. "Just come in and hurry."

You eagerly take in the room once you slip in, eyes scanning over every little detail, until they zero in on the heap of sheets smack dab on the single bed, a pair of feet dangling off the edge, topped with a comforter thrown over leisurely.

Childe's facing away from you, head dipped in between his shoulders, probably trying to find a position that's more comfortable. He's shivering, sweating at the same time. His mother must've been too preoccupied to notice. This isn't the first time he's used his exceptional bullshitting finesse.

"I can't believe you lied to your mother," You cross your arms, leaning back against the door.

With a jerk, Childe flings into a sitting up position, wide awake and aware of everything that is going on, a stark contrast from nearly seconds ago.

He blinks at you in shock, once, twice, rubs his eyes a bit, relaxes, then leans back, out of it completely. "For a sleep paralysis monster, you sure are kind of cute."

"For and idiot you sure are an idiot." You snort back.

"Wait a minute," He mutters slowly, jaw dropping. "You're actually here?!"

Ignoring his question, you opt to slap the papers on his desk to ignore your clammy palms. "Homework."

"And here I thought you came here all this way to be my personal nurse." He smirks, recovering from his momentary shock fairly swiftly. Doesn't refrain from giving you that shit stain of a bad boy grin, even with a flushed face and concavity under his eyes.

"I can be your personal mortician instead."

"I didn't know you were into role play babe, but I'll take what I can get." He winks, but is punished by a sequence of coughs that earn a wince from you.

"Headache?" You tease after he quiets down, but he remains as cavalier as always.

He sighs, sides of his lips still arched upwards. "My parents barely have any time to themselves, it's so hectic with the kids. What kind of son would I be if I couldn't even give them this?"

He must've threatened Barbara.

"You're," You inhale, briefly letting the silence hang between you two, mulling over what you wish to convey. sweet.

"Irresistible? Hot? Sexy?" He starts casual, arrogant smirk widening.

"Kind of not a complete asshole, is what I was going to say."

"Careful girlie," He narrows his eyes on you, playful lilt in his tone. The comforter is allowed to slip past his shoulders to reveal the goods that lie underneath, the complete naked chest of a post-puberty highschool boy who sprays too much axe. Full pectorals are something to pay for, stringed with smooth muscles that ripple their way over his toned shoulders. "If you keep teasing me like this, I can't promise I'll be the nice guy."

"One more time from the top," You bite back, avoiding staring at him for too long. "Without the congested nose this time."

With great expertise, he weakly throws a pillow at you, and you watch it exceptionally land at your feet, barely grazing the tips of your socks.

"Impressive," You whistle, not impressed.

He pouts, shivers, then is dunking his head back into the welcoming embrace of his plush collection of pillows.

With a sigh, you plop down on his chair, grab a pen and begin calculating derivatives.

"What're you doing?" He doesn't even turn your way, voice muffled.

"Homework," You reply nonchalantly, trying to calm your nerves. "unless you want me to get you something to eat, considering you puked out your gogurt on Barbara's shoes earlier. Congrats by the way, you're hit listed by her fan club."

"Why are you doing homework?" He groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

He really has an IQ below room temperature.

Burying the formidable obligation to clock him in the face on behalf of society, you slowly get up to approach his bed, to which he grins widely in disbelief.

Apprehensively, you climb onto his bed, and he scoots over, excitement as clear as day. His hair's a wild mess from all the shifting, almost makes you want to card a hand through it. Your heart nestles it's way in your throat at the sight of his blazing blue eyes.

You pity him for what you're about to do.

"Relax Childe," You lean over him with confidence you never knew you had to begin with, face hovering inches before his. Your fists strategically grip the comforter on either side of him. "We have all day after all."

Although you attempt to pay no heed to his quivering hand that snakes up to find solace on your hip, you momentarily shiver at the tenderness.

He's eating this up and leaving no crumbs. Closing his eyes in anticipation, his lips tremble when he tries to close in the distance.

Abruptly, you cross both handfuls of sheets over his body, tying them securely in place to keep him docile. He struggles in your grip, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Wuh-What."

"Did you really think you had a chance?" You cross your arms, stepping back to get a good look at your handiwork.

"Honestly?" Childe huffs, struggles some in his restraints. "I wasn't really thinking."

"Typical," You scrunch your nose up, unscrunch, and then exhale. "You stay here and I'll go make you some soup. Well, not that you can really move but you get the idea."

"You're really going to leave me here like this?" He pouts cutely, melting you, and the sick bastard knows of his power.

"Relax," You wave a hand, "I may be evil but I'm not Scaramouche."

Meanwhile, Scaramouche sneezes as he tries to ask Mona out, falling straight on his ass from the kick back, making a complete fool out of himself. Mona doesn't mind though, finds it endearing.

Back at Childe's room, he raises a brow, expectant.

Going through the five stages of grief, you do something you've been wanting to do for a while, succumbing to the immense feeling.

Closing in the distance between you two, you suck in a breath and gently tilt Childe's head to the side. He blinks quickly, not quite expecting your sudden forwardness, about to say something that doesn't matter as soon as you place a tender peck on the side of his cheek.

Time stops, the world coming to a halt completely. A moment made in history, one you won't ever forget, fresh in both your minds from forward on.

And then you stagger away as if you've been stabbed.

"Soup!" You squeak, appalled by the sheer boldness of your actions. "I'll go make soup while you rest."

Childe, frozen, stares at you incredibly confused, and then beams.

Dear Archons, what have you done.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #childe x reader #childe #fanfic #genshin oneshot #kaeya alberich #dottore #genshin tartagalia #tartagila #lumine genshin impact #mona genshin impact #aether #barbara genshin impact #ajax x reader

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years

Text

Harry Styles x Barista!Reader.

Smut, pain kink and over-stimulation.

Mentions of past trauma and healing!

MASTERLIST, LETS TALK LOVIES!

Author's note: Your reblogs and appreciations means alot to me, token me a smile with your love.

His breath smells of strawberries and coffee, plushie lips dangerously close to her's making her half voracious gaze flicker between his lips and up at Tofu, kiss him kiss him you bloody fool, reeled in her head, "here lemme . . ." He notices her jitteriness fetching the birdy for her. She hiccups with a suck of breath when his knuckles brushed the inside of her palms while giving Tofu to her.

"Oi, Harry budge over you bugger!!" She hisses with sleepy voice but in return he squishes her more.

Y/N has a phobia for needles and Harry's her damsel in distress.

Something about bungalows not having stairs makes Y/N's cheeks puffs out in disappointing amazement. The fact she couldn't even climb at the rooftop when the summer sky's ornamented with cosmic stars twinkling with the each buzz of music from inside. She hiccups a giggle when the cool zephyr blew her frock away giving out a glimpse of her itty-bitties, glad no-one's in the diameter to have a show. The discernment falls to nothingness when she hears distinct rustle of someone behind the fat‐very-rooty-tree, it widens her eyes into saucers as she blinks comically.

It's not a squirrel she could tell. Couldn't be Ronny who went to take a wee cause all the darn washrooms inside were occupied and his bladder being the weakest, he went for a bush.

But, that bush's behind her and for a moment she forgot her friend even existed since she muted out his piss taking whistle a while ago.

All her frenzied assumptions fails when two figures camouflaged in the darkness tumbles from behind the tree. Her cheeks splashes with burning crimson when they separate with a loud, wet kissing noise and the two men doesn't seem any shy about it unlike Y/N who's foozling the frill of her dress as if she got caught in the middle of a fuck in public loo. Not that, it everrr happened with her, still she has an example set for such incidents.

"Oh, hi." The warble of unprevious voice wins in gaining her attention and she tries to squint through the pocosin of his eyes which glimmers under moonlight if she glances away too quick, she startles in her spot when a gruff voice speaks over them, "Ronny couldn't even occupy a shot of vodka in his bladder." She couldn't seem to flit her gaze away from his cherry of lips glistening from whatever activities they were having before (the only features she could see in such illumination) as the other guy and Ronny bantered off passing a cig in between them.

"Oi, shut up will ya." Ronny locks his arm with Y/N and she flinches that he hasn't even washed them yet, "c'mon truffles we don't wanna be here." He announces dragging her away and the humid air around them bubbled with chuckles.

"Huh." She quips all lost between the interaction and accidentally bumping into two beautiful men kissing eachother, she's totally jealous! Poor thing tries to jerk the mud from her toes and to have a last glimpse of the man with marble irirses.

"D'ya think I've a chance with that daddy-long- legs-one? Dunno, but he intimidates me so bad." Ronny whispers to her and she frowns sniffing with her already runny nose from being a bit tipsy, it's making her bouncy little by little and she knows the bevvys she had will have a full swing within the night, "why? He seems nice."

"His hotness truffles, it intimidates me." He scrapes his already chipped nail polish after washing his hands from the basin throwing towel at her face, she just sighs putting it back in the rack.

"How about you talk to him first." Parties has teeny perks of them and gigantic disadvantages 1) Ronny gets a school crush at every boy he looks at. 2) They get more sweaty, stinky, gluey and more wilder till the clock hits 4 am. Honestly, even if it wasn't for the free bevys she would have never stepped in.

"That's the hard part." They push people aside like stuffies getting cursed and groped in return.

"He's not gonna know himself, Ron, you dump-stick." Good she doesn't need to yell like before as the music has dimmed to a hum possibly about to shut down within minutes. Halting, beside some people crowded alongside the couch some sitting on it and their confused heads shots up at first at the sound of familiar vibrations.

The worst scenarios of someone having a bullet up in their hole and peeps around having a show passes for a mere sec in their heads, together, that's why they're friends since the first semester of UNI.

But, upon seeing what's the ruckus about Ronny shakes his head in utmost panic, "oh no . ." He tries to escape from her grip but she tugs him from collar, "Please Ronny, swear 'm ready to over come my fear! Nothing's gonna happen to me." They stand beside the guy sheepishly (like two elementary kids deciding who'll step inside the staff room first) a gun perched in his hand and Y/N realizes that he indeed's the same guy she met outside, this time she could see him properly and those hickorey of curls brushing the eternity of his popping clavicles.

His back to them but she could see the flex of his muscles from under the sheer black of his shirt with the each movement he does with his gun, she admits that he got prettier back than her.

"Ey Harry this's my friend Y/N and she wanna overcome her phobia of needles, be a damsel in distress pal." So, they know eachother. The whizz of gun stops midway and he dismisses the drunk dude under him tilting his chin to meet her eyes, and it was worth it as it took tiny gasp from her.

He's way beautiful than he was in the darkness.

Ronny was right. It daunts her a bit. The name Harry itself is some kind of royalty.

"Oh, hi there, again." He greets her with a warm smile and it glitter-glittery her insides, will you please not she scolds herself. It's probably the alchol her subconscious assures her but her nervousness from the idea of really doing this says otherwise.

"Have a seat, love." Oh holy goodness. He's as sober as judge and she at whole is miffed.

Harry isn't a popular senior. No. His charm's something that woos everyone and his name's always on the top list of invites, he avoids them though unless it's his closest friend. Him remaining to himself has casted a spell on everyone that his personality's intimidating and he's this sex god who has an only concern with fucking people.

He could be called a nerd from his grades everytime being higher than last semester but his attire and being a shining star of the Christmas tree gives it away.

Everyone likes him, ah-ah no everyone absolutely loves him. The thing's he has never felt the same in his twenty-one years of life and that's a fat bummer.

He just gives that "please stay away from me" aura, brows always sewn together and bottom lip jutted makes him appear rather passive aggressive to strangers (well the people who knows him loves him for being the most chill person walking around them).

Right now, he got a tat gun in his hand and everyone's getting a drunk tattoo for the remembrance of this stupid party or just that they've a kink for pain, possibly for humiliation too because what could a tattoo gotten in an unconscious state could bring you?

"Y'alright there?" He asks her and she bobs her head clamping her hands shut in her lap. The rainbow broch on his loafers intrigues her about his fashion senses, it makes her jealous she can't afford to have her own style, "Yeah!" She avoids to even give a spare glance to the gun in his hand because she knows the moment she'd, it will make her dizzy.

She feels bad for cliff hanging him to herself only but he doesn't seem to mind at all. Waits patiently for her to guard herself as Ronny pats her back like she's about to summo wrestle.

"Want me to start it?" He knows how bad it's for some people. Many times he had an encounter with weak hearted persons who got dragged into his parlour by their friends and ended up running away, "Can you give me a moment?" She lifts her head towards him and it makes his forehead knit into concerned lines.

The poor bug's giving a purple face as if she's about to throw up and her ears pink.

"Take all y'want, darlin'." His gentleness flows over her head, she thinks that the music has died or she has gone deaf, can't be neither, cause no-way that such a sweet call wouldn't make her toes all gooey.

"'M ready!" She puffs out a huge exhale moving her shaking wrist nearer to his grasp and he gives her a comforting look before wrapping his fingers one by one around her delicate wrist, skidding the stool he's been sitting on closer to her, "al'ight truffles 'ere we go — wouldn't hurt promise." He decides to stick with truffles since Ronny calls her with the nickname everytime he's at Harry's. Thought his blabbers of his friend were exaggerated coating of sugar but when she's sitting infront of him with those glinting eyes and soft flesh in which his lanky fingers seems to turn pudgy, he gets it why he calls her that.

He keeps on glancing up at her to see if she's okay — she has her hand placed atop Ronny's thigh while he distracts her with his "let's throw shade at mean bitches together" game and Harry just hovered the nib of it over her skin when she passed out but Ronny quickly placed his palm against her cheek to pull her back towards his shoulder.

"'M good . ." She comes back from it with a weak whsiper-y voice trying to straighten up but the instant her already blurry vision falls at the needle again making a line so small it isn't even visible she passes out again and this time Ronny seems unfazed talking to a girl beside him (trust the lad they've done it multiple times but the pain and fear of needles never let her have a single tattoo inked on her skin), leaving Harry to sweat over her.

Sighing he shuts down the machine putting it aside and presses the back of his hand against her forehead --- to be more appropriate, and when she remains as if in the land of nod completely knackered out and woolly in Ronny's arms he realizes that she has passed out for real.

"Truffles?" He doesn't get a response from her.

She puffers out her lips blowing raspberries gazing at the sunny sky from the clear glazed window of the shop, chin resting in the softness of her palm as the cosy hall of it emptied from the rush the time it striked noon. The start of her shift's always effete and warm with honey-bees buzzing over the pots of pastel flowers outside, but the evenings are most tiresome and she has to do the closing in a grumpy mood.

"Can you pass me the icing tube, forgot it under the counter shelf 'cos of that pain in ass customer." He's their regular. Has constant complaints that their tarts are too sugary and they need to thicken the formula for their lattes, Y/N just bobs her head at his tantrums finding a way to shoo him away with a promise of next time, "yeah uhh — " Gripping the edge of marble counter she squats down and giggles at herself as she looks funny with her knees making a tent of her ruffle frock.

The door-bell chimes indicating the presence of someone but she goes for her rampage knowing Cora's there to attend them and she was about to pull her head back when she hit it quite painfully against the upper shelf, "Ow!!" She squeaks rubbing the sore spot stabling herself while Cora chuckled taking the tube from her hand to go inside.

She never expected someone to occur at this hour, moreso, she never expected someone like him to pop out of nowhere at their shop. He just doesn't seem like a person to have a merry making at little cosy cafés all to himself, it's been driving her crazy, she cringes at herself everytime when the humiliation of passing out infront of him invades her thoughts.

Half of her heart wanted to see him again and other half was glad she never bumped in him — but seems like nature was evily against her.

"Oops hi!" When she couldn't fiddle with anything she adjusts her frilly apron and with her wrist brushes her loose tresses away which her bow failed to keep. He blinks for several times sipping in the consequence, though it gives her time to take in his appearance.

He's yet again, wearing a sheer shirt with white flower buds spiraling from his abs towards the broad of his chest displaying his inked skin underneath beautifully — it shimmers every time he shifts on his feet letting the sunlight fall on him. His curls tamed and silkier than before, he groomed himself too good it puts Y/N to shame for being a girl, a careless one.

"You work here?" He asks with a drawl as if he has a all the time to dedicate to her, "nope just broke in to do a fat robbery — wanna join?" He cackles, hard it quelled his tummy and it also made her smile blushy-ly that he didn't find her humour boring.

"Okie . . S' what you'll have?" Brassing the belly of his nose he clears his throat roaming his eyes to catch a perfect spot, "'s okay if'll be waitin' fo' someone there?" He points at the nook aligned with the fuchsia coloured book shelves, wooden pots hanging and embroidered throw pillows piled and some overflowing from the love seats.

"Totally!!" She chirps. The thought of him waiting for a date sinks summat a tiny globe of mud in her stomach and dunno why — She wishes she could've things that other people have without burning themselves in effort unlike her.

She watches him getting comfortable, scrutinising around with curious and adorable big peepers. He'd give her a shy smile everytime he'd catch her staring and she'd just shake her head treating her back to track, that he's on a date, but not with you.

She didn't forgot to ask him if he needs anything putting a glass of water at his coffee table without him requesting, it's perpetually hot and even her throat'd get dry after some minutes. He's been here for two hours and even though the weather cooled down spotting pearly drops of rain, perspiration still beaded at his forehead.

The bustle of on goers kept on dying and she feels bad for him, knowing the end of it, she's been there before many times. Even visualised it at this same shop far more she should thinking the world's kind enough to even let their date know with q single message.

Sensing his timorousness she paddles towards him getting a coconut cookie from the jar, onto the plate and sliding it in his line of vision. He seems flustered — everytime they've interacted she's the one to be not in one place and now he's ripping the threads of his tattered skinny jeans.

"You can munch on this cookie, if you want to!" He looks back and forth between the cookie and her, fuziness spreading in his chest glad at her kindness and enough trust in him to not to kick him out, "Thank you." He grabs it taking a bite and she giggles when in the single one he left no crumbs behind, his mouth's big, shut it already! and so pink so pulpy, oh my goodness I hate youuu!!

"'M sure your friend's on way, it's rainy, might —" He cuts her off with a dissapointed spurt of breath, "dunno." He sulks into sofa folding the corner of book's page.

"You still've an hour till the cáfe closes, don't loose hope!" She pats his shoulder and he gives her a weak smile doing that bunny scrunch of his nose, combing his already wrecked hair and thanks her for the next thousand time.

Harry had worst dates. This seems to top them. To be honest because of Y/N being here. What will she think? What if she thinks it's his fault? That he's a broken dummy who nobody wants to date? He wants to grumble and call his date to end things but he waits patiently as the sky turned lilacs of night.

Y/N feels remorseful and angry at the person who stood him up this pathetically. With a sad sigh she turns the closed sign to display outward silently looking at him while he's in his own trance, she disappears into the kitchen and Cora gives her a knowing eye.

"Not believing in love's my greatest descion up till far. It's impossibly hard out there." She retorts. Placing a hot chicken steak atop the alfredo pasta and sprinkles parsiman making it appetizing, "Tell him to better end things with a pig like them." She says in all seriousness handing the tray to Y/N.

He's there. Gazing outside with lips pressed into a thin line and he seems down with his loose errand of curls tucked into a man bun now, a perfect hairdo outta frustration "Harry." She keeps her voice low not to startle him gaining his attention.

"You didn't have to." He shakes his head and she made a noise un-recognized by him putting the tray on the table and moves the ottoman with her feet closer to him sitting on it, "let's be eachother's date for a day." She hands him a fork and he accepts gladly. His sulkiness wooshing away when she digs in taking a bite and smearing the sauce all over her lips.

"If you don't mind me asking, is it the same behind-the-tree guy?" He nods. She frowns spitting grumpily, "what a prat." With the help of knife she tears the steak equally sliding it to his side and he smiles boyishly sucking the corner of his lip inside.

"'M sorry, Harry." She squeezes his knee and it bundles up the air in his lungs, "'s okay truffles — glad you were there fo' a rescue."

"Y/N." She tells him forwarding her hand to shake and he slips his calloused ones to envelop her warmth. His cheeks turns pink when his stomach made noises of starvation, "you need to eat c'mon!" She nudges his elbow and he obliges.

After, filling their tummies satisfied and full she hands him a cuppa of latte with a foamy sleeping kitty floating over it she even made two eyes and the uwu kitty smile with the cocoa powder, "pardon me if it seems like I murdered the poor thing . . . 'm still learning from Cora." His giggles were absolutely amazed and gleeful.

"It looks so good, I don't feel like stirin' it." He pats the bum of steamed floffy kitty with the curve of his tea spoon and it makes her giggle some. Relishing onto strawberry pastries and crumpets oozed into butter, sipping onto their lattes, watching the sky turning dark with the rain while Cora left them hours ago to themselves.

She puts a velvet cloak around herself after closing the shop and Harry waits for her as she takes her bicycle, "Thank ye' Y/N. 'S kind of you." He stirs his gaze from his shoes to her face smiling brightly at her and she waves him off with blushy cheeks, they walk along under the shelters of sideways shops avoiding to get soaked while she holds the steering of her bicycle.

"You can lounge at my place, till the rain stops." When he shakes his head she quips turning into the street, "I insist." They stop infront of the old white sculptured building having two floors in total.

The first thing she does entering into her flat's greet Tofu (it's a Bush-tit a white furball with two curious tich button eyes) leaving Harry to get out of his shoes and slip into her house ones (they barely fits him -- making him chuckle at the size difference).

His eyes giving a beautiful glimmer under the glow of the yellow light as he looks around the space, it's simple, with a bedding on wooden floor, a circle shelf against the window lined up with green plants, a desk opposite to it and a golden standing cage of her pet bird.

"Hi bubba missed me much?" She opens the cage to let it out and the chonky white bird sits on her fingers happily, "Harry meet Tofu." His lips curve upward at the lil thing as he caress it's fluffy head.

"Tofu looks like a snowball." He muses with bambi eyes and she agrees with excitement, "Sometimes I wanna squish him, cause he's just too cute." His eyes widens comically laughing softly at her statement.

"Evil thought said out aloud with cuteness still remains evil, love." Tofu hoped over Harry's finger and he takes him towards his shoulder making it sit there but he has another plans, to rest his furry bum over Harry's head making both of them giggle, "c'mon now birdy time to fill your tummy." She tip-toes to catch him in her palms and knocks her nose with Harry's in the way.

"Make yourself home!" She announces going to feed her pet and Harry flops onto her bed quite comfortably with his sweny legs stretched wide over the floor. They watched episodes of 'Bridgeton' wounded under her blankets and she almost fell asleep when he offered her genuinely.

"I'll help ye' have a tattoo, tiny atleast."

"Means alot to me." She yawns pondering with lug brain whether to snuggle into him or not, she did anyways. In the morning she was woken up by cold sheets and beeps of messages from Harry that made her feel she endured wings of fairy and she's bathing in the glitter of happiness.

She stares at the shop infront of her in amazement. It's friday night. She winded up all her assignments and came to this place exactly how it was mentioned in the address, when she enters inside spare teens and a bulky man was waiting outside the office thing-y . . .? Y/N presumes — an assistant chewing loudly on her gum talking onto phone with someone in hushed bratty tone and when Y/N knocks at the counter her piercing stare startles her a bit.

"Yes?" How rude! Y/N thinks with a pouty lip at her striking tone and she clears her throat, "'m here to meet . . . Harry." The snarky assistant rolls her eyes dismissing Y/N quickly to move back to her lazying, "He's busy." Y/N picks her finger to interject murmuring something under her breath and strolls back to wait with everyone.

Sun sets outside shimmering evening pink inside the lobby and the door atlast opens making her head perk up, "pet?" He looks sternly to his assistant but she doesn't seem fazed.

"Harry." Y/N grins, "Fo' how long you've been here?" She feels good someone's caring for her even though it's just for the fact she waited some hours for him, "doesn't matter can 've a tour?" He nods and the bratty assistant eyes him furiously taking Y/N's hand to lead her.

Harry watches her with dimply smile when she babbles at the details of his working station, "do I sit here?" She asks excitedly and he shakes his head, "yes, you may." They scrutinise through his sketches of designs together and she squeezes his wrist.

"Harry you're so talented! Look at 'em." He never felt this flustered with the compliments before button nose scrunching adorably. She chooses a a small plain jamsine flower nothing more, nothing less watching collect things for the process, "it's one of me mama's favourite." He exclaims rather proud snapping the latex gloves round his wrist.

"Where d'ya want it?"

"Where it hurts less." She replies wiping the sweat away with her frock, "it's outer shoulder, yer arm, calves and arse — " His mischievous grin awfully stretchy and she she slaps his bicep playfully.

"Outer shoulder?" She tells him confused to herself. He agrees strolling his stool near to her as she turns her back to him; his fingertips twitches when he pushes her hair to the side.

"Can you uh . . mm." She groans trying to reach for the zipper of her frock and he smoothes down his erratic heartbeat muttering, "yeah sure." She digs her nails into the delicate flesh of her palms when his calloused cold knuckles brushed deliberately against her skin while skimming the zip down slowly. Her eyelids flutter like butterfly wings when he slides her sleeve down her arm revealing her shoulder and it's so supple that Harry had to come back from his reverie; lick his lips to moisture.

He applies the numbing cream and she hisses softly the leather of seat sticking to her calves, her nerves jumbles and body startles when Harry starts the gun without warning her.

He loops his arm around her waist atop her thigh massaging it assuringly — sure it did nothing but to make her core throb insatiably as his rasp melted in her ears, "you're okay puppy." She gulps saying no word feeling her body getting hot at the each stroke of his thumb over her waist line.

"Ah -- Harry." She gasps out of air grasping his hand tightly at the sting of pain. She's baffled at the reactions of her body, her panties getting wet and the displeasing constant pricking of needle quenching out noises she never thought she was able to give out. When she whines and squirms Harry presses her down with force shushing her, "bug just a mo' it's smaller and would be done in seconds." She kisses her teeth bobbing her head vigorously and Harry chuckles at her effort remaining polite.

"Done!" He announces pulling away to admire it and when he hears the lil sniffles he quickly leaves everything sitting infront of her on the seat, "darlin' don't like it when ye' cry." He wipes her tears away not even glancing at her exposed collarbones and the plump flesh of her tits barely covered with her arm.

Soft and squishy, soft and squishy, soft and squishyyyyy.

His mind screams but her whimpery voice distracts him, "'m just gleeful that I've a tattoo because of you." He wraps it up expertly and zips her dress back with ever gentleness, "happy tears then?" She giggles with a grateful nod.

"Want a hug?" He thinks she deserves one for being brave and nice against her fear, "cuddle me up." She murmurs with swollen eyes and peachy cheeks. Uff — it stirs his cock in his jeans arousing the need to be with her everytime.

He rests his chin mushily into the crook of her neck swarming his arms around her waist to squeeze her warmly and she snuggles against his throat, damp lips puckering against his adam apple making it bob.

He feels jammy to be able to have a moment like this with her.

"Chinese takeout?" He collects his sketch journals, his phone, fedora apparently, keys of his motorbike and a spare helmet for her, "Yes please!"

They ate the take out perched against his bike with the meadow vast laying feet aways from them, under the breezy sky they conversed and Harry already got a tender spot for her in his heart. He never reaches to a stage where he could get to know someone with this passion and Y/N isn't from someone who'd guard herself from him just because his father was in the bad business.

As the evening brisked with cool dew of summer grass Harry leaned into her more and more.

He finds her little things infatuating, her bonding with Tofu and her dire wish to make good bum steamed kitties on the lattes, she has an irrefutable love for floral dresses and her homely habbit is doing ribbon work.

She got to know that Harry owns the tattoo shop, teaches few blokes the skill of it in free hours. He'ad attended lots of parties raving ones and the boring ones of higher socials, never lets any stranger step inside his loft which's situated upstairs of his shop. His father does all the criminaly things, he's this master mind in doing the evil things for people from getting money out of their enemies yada yada and Harry despises him for it, moreso, that he left them. He doesn't want to be associated with him in any case — he's none like him, he's kind and soft-hearted like his mother.

Y/N loves his goofy side. The one that cracks jokes and puns -- makes her fall in love with him without her even trying.

Last and foremost he has the render love for sheer shirts — told her he has shimmery ones for the fancying off.

"S'm no stranger then." She quips beside his shoulder as Harry unlocked his home's door. He glances her timidly amicably hovering over her lips, "absolutely not, yeh me bezzy." He raises his fist and she bumps it giggling.

Y/N that night sleeping on his bed dreamt of them laying together into the pillows of growing daffodils of meadow, lining up the stars in the sky and tell each other what they made ----- galloping rabbit, a slipping cake and she'd laugh with ugly snorts when Harry tells her that he sees a massive dick.

His grin proud and mellow to make his bezzy laugh. She squeaks when he pulls her onto him but soon her dreamboat sinks as she stirs at the warmth swallowing her whole.

She startes from her blurrines at something trapping her down till she recognizes the familiarity of two mascular arms sewn around her waist and what the fuck?

Harry made a makeshift pallet on the floor and right now she's all over him, pressed tightly against his chest — her cheeks turns red with embarrassment from being this clumsy and falling over him in her sleep.

"Oi, Harry budge over you bugger!!" She hisses with sleepy voice but in return he squishes her more.

Taking her face out of his neck she admires the softness of his features when he's asleep and the dotting of beautiful moles, sighing a huge relaxed puff of breath and canoodles into him like an affection starved kitty.

It's another cool rainy day and Y/N keeps on swabbing the droplets of water off from her eyes with her elbow trying to paddle her bicycle. She was on her way to Harry's when the skies betrayed her. Standing on his doormat she soaks it completely waiting for him to answer the door, sad, that her gift was ruined too.

"Lovin' ye'll catch a cold – shit come inside." Concerned he ushers her inside his loft, halts in his tracks when she remains behind adoring a gruffy pout, "what is it?" He asks walking to her and cups her cheeks the instant.

"Embroidered ye' a shirt 's destroyed now." She raises it to show him and he stares it for good seconds before swiping her off the floor – hugging her to radiate the sentiment of endearment he carries for her in his heart. It bloats her cheeks pressed against his clavicles and her feet dangles as he sways them with a happy noise of favourite melody she's unfamiliar with, "Thank you, thank you, thank you." He kisses her temple and it lingers at the tip of his tongue.

I could kiss you right fuckin' now, pet.

"Harry you got wet too, dummy!!"

"Oops, guess we both have to change now."

Harry already set mixers for her on the luke points so that she wouldn't have to pull out her hair just to take a shower (his shower's quite complicated) leaves his shirt and boxers for her on his bedside, putting the lilac sheer shirt she embroidered for him in the dryer.

When she comes outside with trippy hair he already has two glasses of wine filled and windows closed to keep her warm.

She isn't a wine person. She was never able to afford it and it never settled with her tummy (she shares too much and feels bubbly with the rose coloured bevvy). Harry's gaze rakes from floor to her ankles snapping directly to her face and it's just snoggles his heart with fondness, seeing her drooled in one of his shirts.

"Need ya not to worry ye'r gift is good as before." He assures her and she flops onto the sofa beside him, "Thank you Y/N." He says genuinely and she waves him with small smile, "hush you."

They drink in silence, then soon it rośed their cheeks and noses making them giggly and floaty. A bottle gone in just a span of a time. She rumbles her lips stretching out, the twinkle of her belly showing and he does the same, eyeing him she slides down on the floor perching her elbow over the coffee table and YET AGAIN HE FOLLLOWS HER ACTIONS.

"Are you mimicking me?" She squints at him and he squints back, "are ye' mimickin' meh?" She smacks his bicep playfully and when he does the same though the force of it lighter than her's adoring mischievous grin making her squeal with chuckles, "Harry!"

He quips back in equal girlish pitch, "Harry!" blinking peepers up at her softly — to test her fates, the recipe of her drunken state and her heart bursting with affection for him she jests at him.

"I like you and might be falling in love with you." She says without holding back a breath and his eyes widen in an animated way chin slipping from his palm, "You what?" He's in utter shock. He has never come across the words she just said with so much delicacy and sincerity — it boggles him to an extent his tongue got tied.

"Say it back now, huh?" She smirks at him shaking from inside counting on to get rejected and ridiculed. Upset at herself more than him at his lack of response, clearing her throat she whispers.

"So — " But, her apology strucks in her throat when he pulls her to himslef with a gentle grip to her elbow. Grabs her jaw tenderly and with the ardent boldness smushes his lips against her's to seal his affinity for her in a kiss that's so soft it melts her inside. His hands brews at her sides and glides up to their destination, to cup her cheeks and deepen the kiss while billowing her in his lap comfortably. He devours the plumness of her lips, tracing the curve of her bottom one with his warm tongue and kisses the corner of her lips again and again making her puff out air from her nostrils.

He has kissed people and it was always to lead something to satisfy the cavity of loneliness, but this, this already feels like home sitting infront of the Autunm fire eating cookies and drinking milk. She feels like the mold he's meant to melt into and explore every ridge of it.

She doesn't not know what's filthier the string of spit that's connecting them or his raspberry lips that she could kiss and kiss for forever, he doesn't stop there pecks her several times with lil smooches, "You're really good at it." She winds her arms tight around the nape of his neck murmuring against him (she wants to make him feel appreciated), his cock chubbing up in his trousers and it lulls her head against his cheek upon feeling it. The thought of having him hard for her boasts the genitilty in herself and she kisses his smiling mouth.

"Wanna make ye' feel good." He presses his lips back against her's with more passion than before and tips her chin with his thumb to stamp lil pecks down her throat feeling his lips tingling to kiss her again, it's way better than he envisioned. Her softness could swallow him and the thought makes his hips stutter imagining his hard prick sucked inside her swelled up walls. His large calloused hands meander down her bottom taking the ripeness of it in a bunch of squeeze.

"On the bed." He pats her bum pinching it playfully and she squeaks obliging him giggles when she bounces over the bed. Him crawling behind her as lion ready to feast over a hare.

Leaning against the head of the bed he lays her between his wide spread legs, her back against his chest and their fronts facing the tall framed mirror infront of them.

"Comfy?" She bobs her head gulping cause no one has ever cared what'll be consuming for her and what not, "I want ye' to look in the mirror sweet girl, at us." He rasps in her ear stroking the hilt of her jaw in continuous circles and when she hums fluttering her eyelids, arching her back at the throb of her pussy and his dirtiness making her slick down to her bum he glides his thumb inside her mouth telling her to, "get 'em proper wet for me." She does coating his thumb with her saliva and flicking her tongue over it many time while he glazes his palms over her ribs, under the crescent of her tits shirt pulled to her collarbones.

She gags around his digit when he took her perky nipple in between his middle and index pulling it then kneads it with a kiss to her earlobe getting her out of his boxers telling her, "enough, pet." When she doesn't listen to him and kept on sucking thinking of his cock in her mouth he gruffs splitting her thighs apart and pressing the soles of her feet tightly against the mattress with his own ankles, "I said enough." Shushing her hungry kitten whimpers he trails his wet thumb down her fallen lip and chin, popping her shirt open and rims it around her areola, "s' soft wanna rub me cock between 'em tits." The shiver that hits her makes her squirm and Harry gives a chaste kiss to her open mouth putting his thumb at her entrance ready to play with her cunt.

"Your eyes open 'em fo' me, puppy." He ducks down to kiss her not letting her turn around himself so that her neck doesn't strain while caressing his fingers up and down in her slickness making soapy noises on purpose, when she finally looks in the mirror locking eyes with him as if he's holding the most precious gem in his arms — the sight turned her spine into a sharp arrow, "c - ca-can I've more?" She gasps squeezing his bicep pussy lips fluttering and her hole palpitates aching for him.

"My polite girl." He smiles awfully fonded at her and she nods licking her lips to speak, "'m good, good always." He pushes his two fingers inside her cunt and she moans with her whole will trying to sink herself to his knuckles nails digging into his shoulders, "I know ye'r." He assures her sliding them out and teasing her little pink asshole turning her into a whining mess.

She twitches around his fingers when he pumps them back along with her sticky wetness and fucks her with them, flickering her clit with his other hand and kneads the inside of her fleshy thigh. She gives out a gaspy moan of unbearable pleasure when his cock's stiffeness rubs between her asscheeks, "ye' feel it? S' fo' you, gonna stuff yeh full of me cock, fuck you nice n' warm and cum all over yer pussy. How you deserved to be fucked, is that okay?" She never expected him this much of a lewd talker — hell she didn't even expected him to step out of his conserved, rather shy demeanour, "yes, yes, yes." She visioned him as a curt dom, who's more into BDSM but he's warm and caring with her. Just in few second of them doing it he proved it how much he's loving to please her.

"Ah! 'm gonna cum . . . gonna —" His sweet vulgar words combined with him toying, rubbing and fingereing her already swollen pussy tips her to the edge she was desiring to get from him, "cum all over me fingers. Want it s' bad from ye darlin', to see you." He says in a tone that's on the verge of pleading but holds a commanding hint under it and with her bones all stiffing, her skin burning and heart buzzing she snaps into her own dreamy world gushing over his fingers with her juices.

"Oh . . Harry." She loudly mewls thrashing in his arms from the intensity of her orgasm and he holds her tight with his arms wrapped around her torso, kisses to the curve of her neck and exposed collarbones. He notices her stiring away from his hand due to sensitivity and takes out his fingers with a squelching popping noise that made her blink from her semblance. Her chest heaves as she watches him in the mirror licking her cum off his wrists with the tip of his pink tongue, "mhm tastes s' sweet." One by one he sucks his finger humming around them seductively spiking her insides yearing to be fucked by him, "just like you sweet puppy."

Gently laying her down he knees infront of her getting out of his flimsy shirt and Y/N admires the flounce of tattoos trailing from his pecks down his adorable love handles. Her gaze stops at the his happy trail leading down to where he's swelled up against his zipper and she hasn't seen someone so beautiful in her entire life, he shimmies his joggers down teasingly with a smirk and she whines hiccuping when his cock slaps against his lower abdomen making her eyes go wide.

"Oh my . . " She gasps at the gorgeous sight of his rock-hard cock between his supple thighs. He's beautifully big, satiny and a dot of shade lighter than his lips making his prick so kissable, would it even fit?? She could already imagine it stretching her out gracefully and stimulating her in ways her fingers could never, "you're so gorgeous button."

The shiny swollen tip, and the dollop of pre-come weeping down his slit alluring her to have him in her mouth but he strokes it not to waste it.

"What's the pout fo' darlin'?" He asks as she stares it making him all shy but he overcomes it persistent to make her feel good (she shared with him that she never knew what being cared feels like) he wanna gives her all lovin' as she did to him the day in cafe. Cups the nape of her neck to bring her for another kiss splitting his thumb into her hair and the moment is so vulnerable and saccharine as he snogs her to floatiness, "will make sure it fits — make you cum many times, baby." He flips her gently.

"On ye tummy fo' me, like an atta pup ye're." It knots her stomach into ropes and she jolts squealing softly into pillows when he smacked her peach watching it jiggle while tugging at his prick to coat it with his thick wetness.

He moans biting his lower lip lulling his head over his shoulders stroking the head of his cock between her asscheeks and round her entrance not pushing at once torching both of them, "you're so delicate wanna be slow with you." He whispers to her pressing his front against her shoulders while wrapping his hand around his shaft to push inside her.

"It's okay!" Her tiny squeaks rolls into a moan when the head of his cock settles inside her and when she twitches around it he cruffs a groan coaxing her sides, "shhh baby 's okay relax fo'me." Taking his hand away from around himself he places it atop her ass withdrawing and looking down to see her cunt glistening with his and her's wetness — then bottoming out deep inside her till his balls are snug against her bum. His stomach twists with pleasure at the warmth that blankets his cock completely making him hunch but he recoups with his arms pressed beside her temple.

The stretch that burns through her core's so pleasing and fulfilling. It hurts in a good way. She knows how patient and composed he's being for her, from the way he fattens tucked inside her walls and he slides his hand between her front and the sheets to caress her soft breasts moving with rough pace.

"Don't stop, please." She recites the mantra almost crushing his fingers with her grip around, it's alot, the constant rub of sheet against her clit and him driving inside her from behind with moans sexier than in erotic audio books. He draws loose circles over her mound making her thighs spread wider with the inability to hold them as he pinched her clit coercion her sensitive button, "oh my god . ." With the whimpers of his name she squirts around his cock and it makes her throw her hips at him.

When he pulls out to turn her on back she whines with a frown, heaving chest and coral cheeks looking totally fucked already, "wanna see ye'r face when you come . . . s' beautiful." He hisses hauling her legs around his waist lowering himself down to enter her with lil smooches to her cheeks, "cum again fo' me baby — yeah just like that squeeze on meh." He pounds her over and over grinding his pelvis against her's to stimulate her in every way.

Feeling the heat crackling in her bones and tummy she takes him by shoulders to cuddle him closer to her chest raising her hips to meet his's, a crying mess, with glossiness twinkling at the corners of her eyes as she comes with euphoria dawning upon her and Harry works her up again.

"Once more, love, i know you've one more fo' me." He gives out a purry groan biting her throat and the valley of her chest, snuggling against it with kisses — when she shakes her head through around him he lines up his nose against her nose petal–ling his lips over her's, "yes you could puppy my sweet — " His eyelids bolting shut at the built of up of his own release and the moment she cums with his cock now he shoots his thick spurt deep inside her.

"This's what it only took fo' you? Callin' ye mere sweet names." He fucks her through it and Y/N admits that he went with his promise --- fucked her like she had never before, they remain like that for some time catching their breaths and then he pulls out of her gently and pumps himself to empty his load shooting it over her pussy and abdomen, "you came so much." She says completely baffled and he steals a chaste kiss from her looking at the white ribbons sticking to her skin.

"Just for you, babyhun."

He tells her not to move and whisks away coming back with a pack of baby wipes. Her hearts swirls with so much fondness for him when he pats the wipes between his palms to get them less cold and shushes her with pecks when she hisses with sensitivity.

They take another shower, this time together and it's not sexual at all though alot of tired poofy kisses and cute yawns were included as they gave eachother shampoo massages and she'd cooe everytime untangling his long hickorey curl.

They changed the sheets (unapologetically very clumsily) and he fetches a glass of water for her making it drink her.

When they were cuddled awfully good he lifts his head up from it was nuzzled between her titties. His accent drawly and slippery from tiredness, "Y/N." He checks if she's asleep and she hums in response starting to play with his hair lazily.

"That day when me date didn't show up?" Witha half heart she hums again, she doesn't like to talk bout that day, because the hopelessness that conquered him that evening still makes her sad.

"I was glad ye' were there 'n 'm so so so thankful that he didn't show up. Else we wouldn't be here in eachother's embrace 'n me heart still'd been mournful to sleep in cold sheets waiting fo' me person." It's the most he has talked in his soberness. It wells up tears in both of their eyes.

"You're my person." She cradles his face hating it that he was kept so love starved his entire life and she gazes him dearly, sweetly, affectionately all the words that could describe love for someone spilling out of the chambers of heart.

"I want to love you so much, pet, make you me most treasured human hershey."

"I'm in, cuddle me up." He grins smauching a loud kiss to her lips and cosying back to his previous spot purring like a kitten thrown into heaps of fluffy blankets.

#HARRY STYLES SMUT #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry smut #harry x y/n #harry styles blurb #cute harry #hsh #fluff #harry angst #harry styles fanfiction #dom harry #HARRY WRITINGGGG

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

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Island Escapade [Ex-con! 2p! America x reader x Denmark] 08

Island Escapade - 08 - Animals Content warning: NSFW. Proceed with caution. Wordcount: 2, 876 The reader is referred to as she/her.

It's like we can't stop, we're enemies But we get along when I'm inside you You're like a drug that's killing me I cut you out entirely But I get so high when I'm inside you

The fear of missing out. Everyone had it in some shape or form. It just so happened to be worse for a select few, and Mathias was one of them. He was always sensitive to notions of being unwanted. And you used to think being loud was just one of the facets of his big personality.

For two nights, he slept by his lonesome in your room. It shouldn't have impacted him so much when he was usually in bed hours before anyone else. But it did. This was one of those moments of self-awareness as he dozed off to the hushed murmurs of your voice, your laughs, then Allen's. Whatever you were talking about, it sounded fun.

As his eyelids grew heavier, he fell deeper into a restless sleep with a troubled frown.

When his consciousness returned, he was anything but awake.

He was lying in bed, just not alone. His heart wasn't by any means calm, either. Instead, it was throbbing, aching even, and he soon learned why. Whoever it was there with him was sitting on his dick, having sheathed it deep in their walls. They were rolling their hips on it like a rocking horse. And it felt so good, he had to roll his head back to breathe out a few moans.

"Yeah... Just like that..." He huffed out, his airy voice soon drowned out by fervent panting. "Hah... Hah..." Forcing his half-lidded gaze to his partner, a psychedelic high washed over him when he saw who it was. You were on top of him, riding him like a bull.

Naked and drenched in sweat, he’d watch beads of it roll down between your breasts. Then, the place where his body connected to yours—a sight so lewd and erotic, he found himself completely seduced. Sliding his hands to your thighs, he grabbed at them for a good fondle. There, he relished in the softness of your flesh as it sunk between his fingers.

"Don’t just... Sit there and watch..." He heard you breathe. Lifting his glazed-over eyes to your face, flushed red and contorted with frustration, he felt his cock twitch inside your tight walls. Fuck, it was always so hot seeing you pissed at him. "If you don’t get me to finish, I’m never doing this with you again..." You glared, much to his excitement.

Mathias didn’t hesitate to sit up at that, pushing you down in the process. He’d be damned if this was the last time. Before you could object, he had his hands on you again, holding your thighs down so he could thrust himself deeper inside you than ever before. "Agh, fuck..." He hissed, feeling you clamp tighter on his dick. But the sensation was barely a deterrent from fucking you into the mattress.

A sharp pain erupted in your core—"Mat, what the hell?!"—but it melted away as he continued moving. Using your moans as a guide, he adjusted his technique to go as hard as he could without it hurting. Soon, sex with him became borderline painful, but it hurt so good.

Digging his hands into your hair, he rolled his pelvis against yours and made love to you missionary-style.

As he pushed you closer to your climax, slowly and steadily, he sped up to start pounding you. Occasionally slowing down to grind his dick against your walls, he tried his damndest to stimulate your clit from the inside. That was when he knew he had you. Your walls were fully lubricated and finally sucking him in, accepting him.

Now that you completely gave in to him, he knew you’d reciprocate when he kissed you slowly.

As he pulled away for air, thin strands of saliva would drape and break between your lips—much like your resolve to push him away. He had you in the palm of his hand, wanting him again. Only an hour ago were you fighting with the man, but here you were, letting him do away with you as he pleased.

So when he pushed you to your zenith, helping you ride out waves of your hot orgasm, you uttered this shakily. He needed to have a piece of your mind, as shattered as he left it after a round of make-up sex. While your legs trembled away, this was what he heard with his manhood buried halfway up your stomach. "Fuck you, Mat... Fuck... You..."

Mathias had never been so turned on in his life.

Resuming his strong thrusts at a furious pace, he panted like a dog until he felt his own release. Something about being cussed out riled him up so bad, just like all those other times you argued with him. Because even after the storm, you would run right back. It was his way of proving you still loved him. It wasn’t healthy, but he craved it like a drug.

With one final slam, he came hard, filling you to the brim with his warm and frothy cum.

Your lust, anger, he couldn’t differentiate between the two anymore.

His eyes shot open. His chest was still pounding like a drum, but it became clear he wasn’t living it down. As he sat up to send beads of sweat rolling down his face, his hard-on practically bounced out of his boxers. "..." Mathias reddened. What the heck?

He couldn’t believe himself. He nearly had a wet dream. Sliding off your bed, he scrambled to the bathroom. Sleeping in your room definitely had something to do with it. But so did your growing friendship with Allen. This became jarringly obvious when he froze at the sound of your voice.

"Was that Mat?"

One wouldn’t have imagined how profound an impact those three words had on him. He lit up, ecstatic over the thought you were thinking of him.

"Who cares? Just go back to sleep."

Mathias clenched his hands into fists. If this was what he’d be hearing after getting up, he would’ve stayed in bed. That way, he could drift away into an eternal sleep, dreaming of how things used to be.

You slapped Allen on the shoulder. "Sleep? It’s nearly twelve, you big oaf! C’mon, get up—"

Grabbing a hold of his bicep, you were immediately shocked at how hard it was. "Geez, Al. Are you on steroids?" His eyes were closed as he rested his head on a pillow, but he opened them to glower at you, much to your amusement. "How can someone so lazy have such firm muscles?" You laughed.

"Say that again, I dare you." He squinted.

"Are you on steroids?"

Allen chuckled lowly, feeling a brief spell of irritation come. The morning exhaustion was wearing off. "Again. I wanna feel awake for this, so do your worse."

You rested against the hands behind your back. "Bum. Bumass." A satisfied smile plastered across your face as he sat up, provoked. What you said next, however, took the cake. "Good for nothing playboy. Womanizing bum! You know what’ll get panties dropping? Getting up before noon."

"Okay, I get it!" Hopping off the bed with a growl, he spun to you and didn’t hesitate to hoist you up.

You sucked in a gasp. "Wha-"

Then, he threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He even made it look easy. "How’s this for lazy, huh? Can someone on steroids do this?" He opened the door and walked out into the hall.

As you swayed against his back upside down, you couldn’t stop cackling like an idiot. "Maybe you could tell me, I haven’t tried them before!" Allen gave your thigh a squeeze to show his annoyance.

You were having way too much fun with this.

"Hey!" He threw you down on the couch in a thump. As his chest rose up and down to his heavy huffs, you were just as breathless. Even then, you managed a few more laughs, having found yourself thoroughly smitten with him. "Again?" You gleamed, reaching out to hold his forearms.

What you shared with Allen was reminiscent of what you once had with Mathias. But even better.

Allen caught a brief glimpse of your hands on him. How could you keep pulling him in so effortlessly? Everything you said, everything you did. A smile like that was enough to get him to derail his train of thought. "... Maybe later, bub. I'm starving." He grinned, pulling you up much to your delight.

Something about being with him was incredibly freeing—it was nothing you’ve ever experienced before. And for that, he was irresistible.

"Okay, bub. We’ll get to eat faster if you help me." Wrapping an arm around his hip, you hugged him from the side. "You do the tofu."

He followed suit and pulled you in by your waist.

"You got it, capitan." Allen hummed, giving it a playful squeeze. For a second, he expected a yelp or a jump. Maybe a push. But it never came. You let him do it.

The feeling of his large, calloused hand on your waist was something you could get used to. The high was still there, and it wasn’t going anywhere soon. So when you both settled in the kitchen, you shot him a bright smile. He had been rummaging through your fridge when he caught it. You weren’t planning on letting him breathe, huh? "Alright, you idiot. ‘Nuf of the smiles. I’m getting grumpy."

He held out a potato. "Now, how ‘bout some of that famous gnocchi of yours?"

You crinkled your nose. "With tofu?"

"I dunno, I’m trying to improvise."

The bathroom door unlocked. Out walked Mathias looking like hell. Before Allen got a response from you, your attention was stolen away by the newcomer who just walked in. His hair didn’t resemble the top of a pineapple like usual, flattened by sweat. And his face was concerningly red.

"Hey."

No good morning. It was just ‘hey’. Immediately, you knew something was wrong with him. Appearing in front of the man, you cast a worried gaze over his pink complexion. Without touching it, you could predict the burn of his skin against yours. When you finally clamped a hand over his forehead, you could confirm your suspicions—

"You’re burning up."

Allen had never seen you so stressed. Once you got Mathias in bed, you raged in the kitchen. He had no idea what came over you, but you were whipping up that chicken noodle soup like your life depended on it. In the end, the potato was used for stock. But he wasn’t complaining when it tasted good.

The sun was melting into the waterline, setting the sea on fire in a mosaic of bright red and orange. Another tiring day of work had passed, but it was barely doable without Mathias to share the load.

As you sat by the beach to watch the waves lap the shore, your head found its way onto Allen’s shoulder.

"You okay?" He asked.

You closed your eyes and smiled. But your expression was nothing like the one you made in the morning. "Yeah. Just tired. You must be too."

He ruffled your hair. Maybe, but he meant another kind of exhaustion. One he couldn’t relate to, and yet, he discovered since day one. "That was some brunch. It looked like you were on Masterchef."

"You watch Masterchef?"

"No. Just the concept."

You leaned into him so your side could press flush against his. It wasn’t a mystery why you were fussing over such a simple task. You just didn’t want to admit it—that you were rushing to get out of the house. If you did, then you would acknowledge your biggest fear. "It's probably because he spent a night in a T-shirt and shorts."

Your lips pursed as you continued, unimpressed. "In a cargo hold. On a plane to New York."

The other clicked their tongue. "Go figure."

"Anyway." Turning to him, you pat his shoulder. Your mood never made a faster change for the better. "I'm glad I started talking to you again."

If you were honest, it was a gross understatement. Reconnecting with him turned out to be the best decision of your life, and worth every risk.

Allen hummed thoughtfully. "Me too. It’s lonely on this island, ya know? I didn’t have any friends."

He felt you pull away, but he wasn’t alarmed when you held out a hand for him.

"Let’s go home."

Taking your hand without a moment’s hesitation, you both stood up slowly over the sand. Much to his surprise, you hugged him. Tightly. But he didn’t make any comments as he returned the embrace. You were holding onto him like a lifeboat, and it became all the more obvious with what you uttered next. "Wanna play on the switch when we get back?"

Allen wondered if Mathias used to play video games.

"... I don’t know how to play."

What he meant to say was he didn’t play video games at all. But like he’d say that to you. Now or ever. You needed a friend more than anything.

And he’d do anything to be yours.

"Then I’ll teach you. One game a night."

He smiled. "Sounds great."

You told him to wait in the living room. And he did, having taken a seat on the couch with your switch. The left controller had stickers of cherries. And the right had... A lego head. "Hm."

After finishing dinner, you appeared in your bedroom with a glass of water, some medicine, and left-over soup from noon. The lights were off, shrouding everything in darkness. But that didn’t stop your muscle memory from getting you to where you needed to be. The outline of his body under the blanket remained still, indicating his slumber. It almost hurt to nudge him awake.

"... Mm?" The blankets rustled as he rolled over to face you. "(F/N)?"

You managed a small smile and flicked on the lights by the bedside table. "That’s right. I brought dinner."

Mathias sat up with a hard squint. On his lap was a tray, and on that was a bowl of warm goodness. There it was, the dopey grin he always made before eating, but it was a little more subtle than usual. You had to wonder if it was because of fatigue.

A part of you knew it wasn’t.

Lifting his drooping, blood-shot eyes to you, he murmured this. "Thanks for looking after me."

A pang of sadness hit you. That, along with this singular thought: I’ll always look after you. Before he could catch the change in your expression, you turned away to let your back face him.

Why was he always so good at getting you so weak?

"Just eat. I need to finish up with the washing."

He answered by slurping up his soup. Quietly. He took his time with this one. All twenty minutes of it. You never brushed him either, and just sat there in silence. If anything, it spoke volumes.

When he was done, you watched him swallow his pill with some water. "Get some rest. Don’t worry about work, okay? Allen’s come a long way." You managed another smile at that, but it faded as you stood up. His expectant gaze was following your every move, all until you became a silhouette in the doorway.

Mathias’s heart sped up in anticipation. He had to say this before you left. Ever since you walked in to feed him, then nurse him, he’d been mulling over it. So when you were in the middle of closing the door, he piped up. "Wait."

You paused. "What?"

He leaned forward.

"I love you."

It was nothing but a faint murmur, and yet, those three words were more than enough to set you back a year. Back when you were still with him—when he was all you cared about. You could feel it. All your efforts to push him away were slowly undoing themselves. Didn’t he know what he was doing? As your chest tightened with a harrowing kind of longing, you forced yourself to the kitchen. Allen looked up.

You walked right back to your bedroom after setting the dishes down. What were you doing?

Without turning the lights on, you hugged him from the bedside. His body was so hot, your worry for the man skyrocketed again. So you squeezed him tight. Mathias returned the embrace, scrunching up the fabric of your shirt in the process. There was nothing worse than being left in the dark after telling someone, I love you. For a second, he thought it happened to him. But even you couldn’t be so cruel.

"I know." That was all you whispered, but he couldn’t be disappointed.

When you pulled away, you felt strong resistance from his arms. Unfortunately, resistance on your part was long forgotten. It was completely sapped away, translated into a movement against your own will. Leaning into his face, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. It lasted only a few seconds, but Mathias couldn’t ask for more.

The joy, the pain, it was all too real.

You left afterward and pulled Allen back to his room.

It wasn’t fair, what you were doing to him. Slowly, but surely, Allen was becoming the only thing keeping you from Mathias.

Yeah you can start over you can run free You can find other fish in the sea You can pretend it's meant to be But you can't stay away from me

#hetalia fanfiction #hetalia x reader #2p america #2p! america #2pamerica #2p! america x reader #2p america x reader #hws denmark #denmark x reader #x reader #reader insert #axis powers ヘタリア #axis powers hetalia #hetalia fanfic #alfredosauce50 #island escapade #hetalia world series

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settersprouts · 3 years

Text

꠵ look at me : chapter four ꠵

パニック。

"How in the hell did we manage to get in this situation?"

Iwaizumi's and Matsukawa's shared thoughts explained the worst possible situation they would be in : they lost Oikawa and Hanamaki.

"Damn, this is bad." Iwaizumi reached for his phone, dialing Oikawa's number for the seventeenth time. Of course, just like the other sixteen times, there was no answer : the call just went straight to voicemail. "He put his goddamn phone on silent, what the hell was he thinking?"

Matsukawa rubbed Iwaizumi's back, supporting his teammate. "I'm sure they're fine. Maybe they went to get food or something." He checked his own phone to see if Hanamaki had read his texts, but his results were the same as Iwaizumi's. "I got no answer from Makki. He probably turned his phone off as well."

Iwaizumi grabbed his own hair, practically tearing it out of his scalp. "Crap, they're really starting to worry the living shit out of me." Matsukawa snorted a little bit, taking Iwaizumi's hands in his own to force him to stop making himself go bald.

"Look, you need to calm down. If they were in actual danger, the last thing they need is you not thinking straight." Matsukawa flicked Iwaizumi's forehead. "So, just take a deep breath. Breathe with me. In for four, hold for four, and out for four." Iwaizumi matched his breathing with Matsukawa's, and after a couple minutes his mini panic-attack had gone down, and the veins that were popping out of his forehead earlier weren't visible anymore. Muttering a small thanks, he checked his phone again just to see if Oikawa had texted. It was the same as earlier; no answer.

"Hey!" Hanamaki's bright voice rang through both boys' ears. They turned to greet the huge smile plastered on the boy's face. "Sorry about leaving you guys, I got you some food!"

Matsukawa and Iwaizumi both let out a breath they didn't know they were holding. "About time," Matsukawa muttered, opening his arms to give Hanamaki a little hug. "Was 'boutta call the cops on your dumb ass."

Hanamaki scoffed, shoving two paper bags into his friend's arms. "Well, screw you. I even got yours and Iwa's favorite too."

Iwaizumi peaked over Matsukawa's shoulder as the latter opened the crinkled bag. Inside were two foil-wrapped packages, the smell emitting from the wrapping suggesting Hanamaki had bought some food. Iwaizumi reached inside and pulled out one of the packages, opening the foil just a little bit to reveal Matsukawa's favorite food, cheese-filled hamburg steak.

Matsukawa gasped, taking the food from Iwaizumi's hand and looking at it like it was his lifeline. "Makki, you are a literal angel. God bless. I love you." He took a bite out of the steak, closing his eyes and smiling. "No homo though." He added on in between bites, finishing the meat in under fifteen seconds.

He gave the other bag to Iwaizumi, which held little plastic containers with some agedashi tofu. He inhaled the food's scent, wrinkling his nose a little bit at the sudden waft. It smelled normal, but it wasn't like the tofu Oikawa and his okāsan⭒ used to make. Even though Toorū was a brat about making food for Iwaizumi sometimes, he still managed to cook something up that tasted absolutely fantastic. It kind of scared him.

Iwaizumi pulled out the container, popping the lid open and stabbing a toothpick into one of the tofu pieces, popping it into his mouth. "So, where's Crappykawa?"

Hanamaki shrugged. "Dunno. I think he chickened out." An unamused expression made its way onto Makki's face. "He's probably still pissed about Karasuno beating us, that he didn't want to watch them go against Shiratorizawa."

Matsukawa and Iwaizumi both glanced at each other as Hanamaki stalked off, hands in his pockets and everything. "Sometimes, I really wonder what goes on inside his head."

"Honestly." Matsukawa replied, as they both speed-walked to keep up with Hanamaki. "I've been meaning to ask you, how's 'Kawa doing?"

Iwaizumi stiffened a little at the mention of his friend. A thousand things flew through his head. Should he tell him? Would Oikawa get mad? How would Matsukawa take it? Would he call the cops? Would he believe him? Would he tell Makki?

"You know, if you don't want to answer, you don't have to. Just don't glare at me, you're giving me chills." Iwaizumi snapped back to reality at Matsukawa's words, realizing he was glaring daggers at his friend. He mumbled an 'oh, gomen'nasai ⭒ ,' feeling relieved when Mattsun waved it off like it was nothing. "If it's personal, I get it. I'd be pretty 'pressed too, if I was in his situation."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

Matsukawa sighed, looking up towards the cloudy sky. "Well, Oikawa is an amazing captain, and setter. He tried for three years to make it to Nationals at Seijoh, worked his knee into a brace, and his chances were all swiped out from underneath him." Iwaizumi noticed his fist clenched a little bit, but decided not to mention it. "You know, I don't blame him for hating Kageyama. He was just born gifted, while Oikawa worked his ass off to get to where he is right now."

Iwaizumi nodded, remembering Oikawa's semi-hatred for the first-year Karasuno setter. "But, even so, that doesn't explain why he tried hitting him. You remember that, right?"

"Seriously?" Matsukawa turned his head to stare into Iwaizumi's olive-colored eyes. "I mean, sure, but he was having a panic-attack, if the things you told me and Makki were true."

"A panic-attack?" Iwaizumi looked at Matsukawa in shock. "Shittykawa? Having a panic-attack?"

Hanamaki slowed his pace so that he was walking alongside Iwaizumi and Matsukawa. "Yeah. From what you told us, he was breathing really fast and his pupils were small," he pointed to his own eyes while saying this part. "And he was sweating a lot more than he should have been, since he didn't practice all that much yet. Seeing Kageyama probably triggered his flight or fight response, and made him freak out even more."

Iwaizumi's eyebrows furrowed as the facts dawned on him. It all made sense now, why Oikawa had distanced himself so much more from Kageyama than he did before the incident. He'd avoid him at all costs, making sure he never came too close in contact with his underclassman : probably in fear of coming close to hitting him again. What if Kageyama triggered another panic-attack, and Iwaizumi wasn't there to stop him from doing something he'd regret?

Hanamaki looked at Iwaizumi's expression, clapping him on the back. "Oikawa's come a long way since then. That was what, three years ago?" He intertwined his fingers, flipping his hands and holding his palms to the sky. "He's doing a lot better now, and I'm really proud of him." He flashed a bright smile at them, which nearly blinded Iwaizumi and Matsukawa.

"Aw, man. I should've brought sunglasses." Matsukawa muttered, rubbing his eyes. Hanamaki laughed, slinging his arms around the latter's and Iwaizumi's shoulders.

"Let's just find some seats. Maybe we'll find Oikawa!"

⊱─ ‧̥̥͙⋅. ♔ .⋅‧̥̥͙ ─ ⊰

Iwaizumi muttered incoherent curse words as he climbed the fourth set of stairs, looking for Oikawa on the right side of the stadium now. "I know he's here. Why the hell is he so hard to find?" He, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa had split up, deciding that it would be easier that way to find the setter quicker and easier if he even decided to watch the match. Iwaizumi was about to give up when he noticed the familiar chestnut-brown tufts of hair that peeked over one of the chairs in the stadium. There he is, Iwaizumi thought, walking up behind his friend.

"Ah. So you're here too."

Oikawa stiffened, turning around abruptly at Iwaizumi's voice, probably expecting his childhood best-friend to yell at him. Fortunately for him, he didn't get that reaction, and he relaxed his shoulders a bit, but was obviously still a little tense. "I thought you said you didn't want to come, since it'll piss you off no matter who won," Iwaizumi said, as he hopped over the back of the chairs to stand next to his friend.

Oikawa smiled slyly, taking his arms off his knees and leaning back into the chair he sat in. "No matter who wins, I'm going to be able to see the faces of whoever loses."

"Man. You really are a piece of crap." Iwaizumi glanced at Oikawa, who's face now held his "oh so famous" setter pout. It really confused the latter how every setter he saw seemed to make that same face whenever something pissed them off. It was kind of freaky. Pushing his thoughts aside, he sat down just one seat from Oikawa, knowing that he would want a little bit of personal space while dealing with all the crazy emotions going on inside his head.

Oikawa leaned forward in his seat a little bit, his eyes dead set on the so-called "Chibi-Chan." Iwaizumi could've have sworn he saw stars in his eyes, like Oikawa was just taken aback by every move the middle blocker made. Hell, maybe even every breath he took. Iwaizumi watched as the orange-haired ball of energy scored a point, yelling out in triumph. Oikawa seemed to smile with his eyes a little bit, his complexion brightening by the second. It was obvious what team he was mentally rooting for, even if he didn't say so himself.

Oikawa turned to Iwaizumi, probably to say some snotty remark about Ushiwaka, before noticing the latter was staring at him already. Chocolate-colored eyes met olive-colored ones, a blush rising on the setter's face. Oikawa quickly turned his head, his ears noticeably flushed.

Fuck. He's cute.

⊱ ─ ‧̥̥͙⋅. ♔ .⋅‧̥̥͙ ─ ⊰

⭒ dictionary !! ⭒

¶-12 : okāsan, お母さん : an honorific form of address; used to call someone else's mother.

¶-18 : gomen'nasai, ごめんなさい : i'm sorry

** some of the dialogue in this chapter is paraphrased or taken from the actual scene in [ haikyu!! ] . this was not with the intention to pass it off as my own original work : it was only put there to fit the timeline and script of the anime/manga. all rights reserved to haruichi furudate. **

chapter 5 !

#oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #hanamaki takahiro #matsukawa issei #hinata shouyou #hinata shoyo #ushijima wakatoshi

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

⁂ Push Your Limit (Initial D) Act 2

📑 Table of Contents | ◂ Previous

Author’s Note: This is the author’s note I posted once upon a time when I posted this on Quizilla lol This chapter also has some terminology at the end.

“And here’s ACT 2~ What did you think? Did the end leave you drooling for more? Did it leave you on the edge of your seat? With that, I bid you goodnight (or day), ‘Zilla~”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

Bring. Bring.

“Hello? Fujiwara Tofu Shop.” Pause. “Hey, Tak! You plannin’ to sleep all day? Wake up! Phone’s for you!” Bunta called from downstairs.

You yawned as you sat at the table in the living room in front of the TV. Once you and Tak had come back from making the tofu deliveries, you hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, so you just decided to just stay up.

“Tell Iggy I’ll call back!” Tak called from upstairs.

“I’d pick up the phone, Tak,” Bunta responded. You looked over at him curiously, but you were too tired to ask who it was.

Tak pulled himself out of bed with a yawn and down the stairs, picking up the phone that his dad had left on hold. “Hey, Iggy. What’s goin’ on?” seconds later, his eyes widened slightly, a look of surprise on his face. Apparently, it wasn’t Iggy.

With a shrug, you laid your head down on the wooden table, a yawn passing your lips as your eyes fluttered closed.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

“What?! All this time Tak has an Eight-Six at his place?! Is this some kind of joke, Cole?” Iggy clung to Cole’s arm, face twisted in disbelief. Tak was standing off to the side, bored, as he waited for another customer to show up at the gas station where the three worked.

You were there, as well, sitting just inside the building, drinking a soda. You didn’t actually work there, but you tended to stop by and help out when you had nothing better to do.

“Nope. No joke.”

“Tak, you bonehead!” Iggy punched Tak’s cheek, just hard enough for him to feel it. “Why did you keep this secret from me?”

“I didn’t keep it a secret,” Tak let his hand cover the cheek that had just been hit by his overexcited monkey of a friend, “I didn’t even know what it was. It says Trueno on it, I figured it was a Trueno, you say it’s an eight-six, I just read the label.”

You grinned at how annoyed Iggy was getting, how smug Cole looked, and how clueless Tak seemed.

“Why you – I oughta…” Iggy clenched his fists in front of him, teeth clenched in annoyance.

Tak held his fists up as well until Iggy moved to stand behind him, one hand cupping his mouth while the other held onto Tak’s shoulder. “Listen, old buddy, I was thinking you could do us a favor. Ask your pops if you can bag the eight-six for a bit next Saturday night.”

“What for?”

Iggy turned slightly blue, “Are you an idiot?! So we can go watch the SpeedStars and the RedSuns battle it out on Akina! That’s what for. After we watched all that go down last night, I am so stoked on street racing.”

Cole, who was listening in, nodded in the background, happy that Iggy was taking such a liking to street racing.

“Come on~ Don’t you want to watch Akagi’s fastest drivers, the Takahashi brothers?”

Tak looked at you, pulling a face. “No, not really.”

Next thing, Iggy had a hold on Tak’s throat, choking him, “What?! You loser! How can you say that!? You know how clutch this is to me?!” He released his grip, and Tak breathed in much-needed air as his best friend got on his knees, hands held together as if he was praying, “Alright, I’m begging. Let me ride in your eight-xix on Saturday night. Please~?”

“Hey, Iggy. You can propose marriage later. There’s a customer waiting.” The boss appeared, a slightly annoyed look on his face. You nearly spit out your soda from laughter.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Iggy murmured.

“Can we help you?” The pair chorused to the customer who had just pulled up. Boss let a smile come to his face at the pair, and you felt yourself doing the same. No matter how annoying they may be, it was impossible to hate them.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

“Wow. That’s the drift king. Check it out, he’s amazing!” Iggy and Cole were sitting inside the gas station during their brake, watching the drift king on TV. Both of them were only about a foot away from the TV screen, eyes glued to the king of drift. Tak was sitting farther away, reading a magazine. You were sitting on the same couch as Cole, close to Tak. You were listening to what was said but your eyes were closed, covered by your hat.

“Looks like he can control it with just the gas pedal,” Cole said in amazement.

“Hey, Tak. Don’t you wish we could go out there right now and drift just as easy as the drift king does?”

“Sure,” he answered absentmindedly.

“Check out this guy’s technique! Way cool!”

“Sure.”

“Huh?” Iggy turned around to look at Tak, annoyed. “You listening to me?”

“Sure,” he paused before looking up, blinking dumbly. “Huh?”

“You don’t got a clue what we’re talking about. I’ll bet you don’t even know what a drift is.”

“O-Of course I know what a drift is.”

Cole turned to look at him, as well. Iggy crossed his arms over his chest, “Alright, Mr. Expert, ‘splain it to me. I’m all ears.”

The boss had also entered the room and stood behind the chair that Tak sat in, taking a drag from the cigarette he held in his hand. He was looking on with a hint of amusement.

“Uhh… well… see, in a curve – ” Tak started.

“Don’t use the word ‘curve’, it’s uncool. Street racers just say corner.” Iggy corrected.

“Oh… yeah, okay then. In a corner, all you have to do is make the front tires slide along,” he held his hands up like he was turning the steering wheel. “So that the car doesn’t face the inside.”

“Heh?” Iggy and Cole looked at each other before clutching their sides with laughter. “Tak, that’s hysterical! If the front tires are sliding, that’s called understeer, which is totally wack! It’s for people with zero skillage!”

“Skillage?” you parroted with a scoff. “but Tak is the uncool one.”

Iggy scowled, sticking his tongue out at you.

“A real racer knows that a true drift isn’t in the front, bro, it’s in the rear,” Cole told him, eyes wet from laughing so hard. “That was pretty funny, Tak.”

“Yeah, you should do stand up comedy.”

Boss shook his head. “Alright, let’s get to work! We got a customer!”

“Oh, right!” Tak stood up, heading outside to greet the customer, “Welcome!” he bowed, “Right this way!”

Cole put his hat back on, following after Tak. He was shocked to see the yellow FD pull up. You had followed them out and, upon seeing the car, stood behind them, observing. Tak walked over to the driver’s side, where the blonde had rolled down the window.

“High octane. And fill it up.”

“Right,” While the gas was being automatically pumped into the car, Cole and Tak took to washing the windows of the yellow FD.

“You’ve got quite the ride there.” Cole suddenly said, gaining the attention of the blonde, who seemed to be deep in thought until he spoke.

“Huh?” his eyes shifted towards the open window, where Cole stood; he was washing the front windshield. The blonde’s eyes shifted to Cole’s S13 that sat off to the side. “I get it. I thought I’d seen that S13 somewhere before. The SpeedStars, am I right?” his finger tapped against the gear shift, “Let me ask you a question. I figure if anyone knows the answer, you should.”

Cole looked over, cautious about what the blonde would ask. Your curiosity was heightened, as well, as you moved closer to Tak, listening intently to what he said.

“Is there a ghost racer on Mt. Akina? A ghost who drives a super fast eight-six?”

Your eyes narrowed at him through the back windshield. If he was asking about the eight-six, then that meant he was gonna try and go after Tak.

“That’s weird. This guy plannin’ to fly?” Tak muttered under his breath, inspecting the wing on the back of the blonde’s FD. He hadn’t heard a word that KT had uttered.

“Sorry, dude, but I don’t know anything about ghosts around here,” Cole responded as he folded the rag he had used on the windows.

“Hmm. Okay, the part about the ghost was a joke, but there’s a black and white panda Trueno. On the outside, it’s a normal eight-six, but on the inside, this thing’s an incredible beast. You live around here, you can’t tell me you never heard of it!”

Cole remained silent.

You scowled. What was it about this blonde that pissed you off so bad? His cocky attitude? His money? His tone? Or maybe it was more simple than that. Maybe it was just because he was one of the famous Takahashi brothers.

“Alright then. If that’s the secret weapon you’re planning for this Saturday’s meet, that’s cool with me. Tell the driver of the eight-six I’ve got a message for him: I’ve never lost to the same driver two times in a row.”

“Huh?” Cole was shocked.

You smirked, glancing at Tak who remained oblivious.

“I only dropped this last time because I didn’t know the course.” he continued.

“Didn’t know the course, my fucking ass.” You scoffed, not caring that the blonde had heard you.

He glared at you before continuing. “It won’t happen again, he’s going down.” With that, the blonde took off, his tires screeching.

‘He’s already taken out one of the famous Takahashi brothers. That’s my Tak~’ you smiled proudly.

“Thanks for coming!” Tak bowed as the FD took off down the street.

Suddenly, Cole’s eyes widened as he turned around to look at Tak who looked at him confused.

You threw your arm around Tak’s shoulders, steering him back toward the station. ‘Looks like he finally figured it out.’

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

The sound of Tak’s alarm clock beeping managed to wake up both Tak and yourself, despite you sleeping in the room next door. The clock read four-forty-five in the morning.

After washing your faces, both of you headed outside where Bunta was waiting. Tak got into the driver’s seat, starting up the car. You hopped into the passenger seat, letting a yawn slip past your lips. He revved up the car, turning the foglights on while Bunta grabbed a paper cup, using the water hose to fill it with water. He dumped a small amount out before heading to the driver’s side, handing the cup to Tak.

“Alright. This is the haul for today.”

“Hmm?” Tak stared at the water for a minute before looking at his father, a look of annoyance crossing his face. “You fill it a little higher every time.”

“That’s right. Just don’t spill any.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Tak set the cup in the cup holder before taking off. He tackled the uphill, speed gradually increasing. As he came to the corner, he hit the brakes, shifting gears as he began to drift. His eyes moved to the water in the cup that rolled around the rim.

You smirked, pulling the hat down over your eyes. You loved it when Tak was driving because it gave you a chance to rest before you got to the hotel. As he exited the turn, the water returned to normal and his eyes returned to the road. The same happened with each turn until you both arrived at the hotel.

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

“Eh? Tak! Hey, where’d ya go?!” He took off in search of his best friend, who was climbing the stairs inside the school building.

“Hey, hold up!” he hopped up to the same step Tak was on. You appeared behind them, having just turned the corner to go up the stairs. “What’s the matter with you? I know you’re a little jealous of my talent, but you don’t have to up and ditch me.”

“I’m not…”

Both of their attention trailed off as two girls came walking down the steps. From their current position, they were low enough on the stairs to get a panty shot just as the girls walked down from the top of the stairs. Being the hormonal teenagers that they were, the pair watched in amazement, as if that was the most amazing thing they had ever seen. You could see small lines of pink across Tak’s cheeks.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance at the perversion of the pair.

“You see that?” Iggy began, as the two girls disappeared around the corner.

“You some kind of a pervert or somethin’?” Tak asked, looking at Iggy.

“Huh? Of course not! What do you think I am, it should be against the law to let babes wear their skirts that short?”

You sweatdropped, “You were just doing the same thing, Tak.”

“I was not,” he muttered, looking away.

“I think the school should make a new rule that – ” he stopped mid-sentence, hitting Tak’s shoulder with his own. Both boys looked up with predatory eyes at the girl that stood at the top of the stairs. When she stopped walking, both boys looked up to see who it actually was.

“Hi, Tak, how’s it goin’?” Natalie waved her hand, a smile on her face.

“Uhhh… Natalie!” Both boys leaned back slightly, surprised to see her.

“Oh, perfect timing! I want to talk to you, come on, Tak, hurry!” She grabbed Tak’s wrist and pulled him away.

“Uhh, well, hey, I was just – !”

“That blows! Why doesn’t that kind of thing ever happen to me?!” Iggy complained.

You deadpanned at him. “Because you’re an obnoxious pervert.”

“Hey, that’s rude, Y/N!”

━━━━━━༻🌧️༺━━━━━━

“Hello? Anyone here?” Cole stepped inside the Fujiwara Tofu shop. “‘Scuse me? Anyone?”

Hearing the familiar voice, you stopped at the stairs. “Oi, Bunta! Customer,”

“Yeah, I heard ya. Gimme a minute.” Bunta responded from upstairs.

You stepped through the doorway, leaning against the wall. “‘Sup, Cole?”

“Hey, Y/N. What are you doing here?”

“I live here, fool.”

“You do?” His brow furrowed. “Are you and Tak -”

“What can I get ya?” Bunta questioned, walking in to stand a few feet in front of Cole, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, as it usually did.

Cole didn’t answer, looking Bunta up and down.

We exchanged a look before Bunta spoke up again. “What’re you gonna have? Hello?”

“Uhh, uhh, uhh..” Cole scanned over the items quickly before pointing to one at random. “Fried tofu, please.”

“You got it.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Listen. I uhh… My name is Cole and I’m with a street racing team called the Akina SpeedStars. I… The truth is, I heard a rumor that the fastest downhill driver on Akina is an eight-six driven by a guy who owns a tofu shop.”

“I don’t know where you heard that story, but it’s not me. ‘Fraid I can’t help ya.”

“Look, this is really important. I scoped out the whole city and I know this is the only tofu shop around with an eight-six.”

“That’s some dedication, bud.” You commented.

“Here ya go,” Bunta held out the bag of fried tofu. “Buck twenty-five.”

“Uhh, oh yeah.” Cole reached into his pocket, taking out the money.

“Bye, bye.” Bunta waved him off, turning to go back into the store, but Cole wasn’t having it.

“Look, the thing is… I’m in a bit of a jam. Come on, man! Won’t you at least hear me out?”

“I’m a little busy right now.”

“What are you talking about? I’m the only one in the joint, It’s dead in here!”

“That’s fucking rude,” you scowled, narrowing your eyes at him.

Bunta stepped back, knowing that Cole had a point. He regained his composure a few seconds later. “I admit it’s a little slow, but the kid’s right, that’s pretty rude.”

“Not a kid, old man.”

“Sorry, it’s just that I’m a little desperate.” Cole rubbed the back of his head, “Okay, listen. A team called the Akagi RedSuns challenged us to a time attack battle. The RedSuns have some drivers on their team with some serious skills. Nobody on our team can even come close to competing with them but this is our turf, our mountain, and there’s no way we’re gonna lose on it!” His fists clenched at his sides in determination.

“Your mountain?” You scoffed. “You write your name on it in sharpie or somethin’?”

“That’s something a kid would say,” Bunta sent you a look before turning back to Cole.”Okay, but what do you expect me to do about it?”

“Mr. Fujiwara, I want you to show me what it takes to tackle Mt. Akina.”

Bunta lit the cigarette that was in his mouth, exhaling smoke before speaking. “I’m sorry, but that’s impossible.”

“Anything you could show me! Even if you could make me a tenth of a second faster. I’m begging you!”

“I know how you’re feeling, son, but driving technique is not something you study for a day or two like a math test. In order to get the car to do what you want, you have to live and breathe the course twenty-four-seven. You know, when I was actively racing I was running Akina even in my dreams. Technique is something that can be neither taught nor learned. You have to find it inside yourself.”

“Huh, the old man actually said something kinda cool.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Cole sighed.

“Sorry about that. I wish I could help ya out.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’ll be back.” Cole promised before getting into his S13 and taking off.

You and Bunta exchanged a look.

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* Terminology:

Camshaft SOHC vs DOHC

The camshaft is a metal shaft with lobes on it that actuates intake and exhaust valves.

Single refers to engines that have one camshaft per cylinder head (AE85 Levin).

Double refers to engines that have two camshafts per cylinder head (AE86 Trueno).

Overhead refers to the placement of the camshaft in the engine block. Overhead cam engines have the camshafts situated above the valves while many older pushrod engines have the camshafts placed below the valves.

Single Overhead Cam (S0HC) engines only have one camshaft per cylinder head that is responsible for actuating the intake and exhaust valves. Most camshafts can only operate a total of two valves per cylinder limiting the amount of intake and exhaust gases the engine can take in and expel, thereby limiting the power the engine can make. The AE85 has a SOHC 4-cylinder engine with a total of 8 valves.

Dual Overhead Cam (DOHC) engines have two camshafts per cylinder head. One cam operates the action of the intake valves while the other operates the exhaust valves. This allows for a total of 2 intake and exhaust valves per cylinder, allowing for a higher intake and exhaust flow resulting in a higher power engine. The AE86 has a DOHC 4-cylinder engine with a total of 16 valves.

Standard Differential

A standard differential will allow both drive wheels to spin at the same speed on straightaways. However, during cornering, the outside drive wheel will spin faster than the wheel on the inside, allowing for an uneven transfer of power to the wheel.

L.S.D. – Limited Slip Differential

A mechanism that allows both drive wheels to spin at the same speed during straightaways and more importantly, during cornering. An internal clutch mechanism forces both wheels to spin at the same speed during cornering allowing for an even power transfer to both drive wheels. This has the side effect of making it easier to get a car to go into oversteer – a key component of drifting.

Muffler – A device attached to the exhaust pipe meant to reduce engine noise by using specially designed internal baffles and resonators. Most stock mufflers put performance considerations aside, in the interest of reducing noise. While smaller engines do not need a certain amount of backpressure to operate properly, most stock mufflers create too much back pressure and therefore reduce the performance capability of the engine. Aftermarket mufflers reduce the amount of backpressure on the engine and as a result, allow more noise to escape.

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#push your limit #initial d #anime #writing #creative writing #writeblr #scenario #scenarios #anime scenarios #anime scenario #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #anime fanfic #anime fanfics #reader insert #reader-insert #reader #series

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mahkaria · 5 years

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headcanons? about bsd? if so i have a headcanon that atsushi tends to do things that he was forced to do at the orphanage subconsciously like maybe if he drops something he would immediately look around and cover himself from getting hit etc etc

Yes, that’s it. You can send me ideas about BSD and I’ll write ideas about it. I’ve wanted to do it since a long time but I was too anxious to ask. I hope you find it interesting. (I apologize in advance if there are mistakes)

Kyouka :

The first time she stayed at Atsushi’s appartment, it can be seen she was the one to make breakfast. However, Atsushi has been raised thinking he had to be the one to take do the chores. From here, a very ridiculous competition started. Atsushi would do his best to wake up as soon as possible to prepare breakfast only for Kyouka to wake even earlier the next day. Kunikida was the one to stop them after one week when he saw how tired the both of them were. He created a whole planning about who had to do what and when they had to do it.

Also, since tofu is quite cheap, it was one of the main meal at the orphanage (when they were fed) so Atsushi knows exactly how to cook it. Kyouka didn’t stop pouting for days when she noticed Atsushi was better at preparing it than her. However, she stopped quickly and instead ordered him to cook it for her. This is how Atsushi stopped seeing cooking as a bad part of his past and started seeing as a way to please his little sister friend.

Junichirou and Naomi :

They both are very tactile people. Naomi likes hugging every members of the agency and Junichirou - even if he’s not at the same level as his sister - likes physical contact to congratulate his friends or to greet them.

The first time the young woman tries to hug Atsushi, the young man jumps meters away from her. Just like the feline which represents him.

When Junichirou tries to high five, he looks at him as if Tanizaki is going to slap him. His whole body tenses, waiting for a punch.

After this, they both are careful with how they interact with him. They invite him to initiate contacts without downright forcing him. They watch carefully and wait for him to be relaxed to try anything.

Only when the siblings escape a life-or-death situation does Atsushi answer to their offers. It’s nothing big or amazing, he just catches sweater and refuses to let it go.

It’s a start.

Kunikida :

Everyone in the agency knows Kunikida is an early riser. He’s always the first one to arrive at the agency. The first one to prepare for work. The first one to finish his job.

One day, he and Atsushi have to leave Yokohama to work on a case for the military and end up sharing a room.

That’s when the man discovers how Atsushi doesn’t really sleep. It’s more like cat-napping. He dozes off for a few minutes and startles seconds after.

The morning after, Atsushi is already ready for their investigation, totally dressed. It’s especially concerning since Kunikida didn’t even hear him do it.

It becomes obvious the boy doesn’t really sleep per se.

From here, Kunikida is careful to his subordinate’s sleeping pattern. He watches for when Atsushi will be about to collapse because of exhaustion and is always ready to collapse. He asks Fukuzawa if they can create a spot where he can rest if everything becomes too much (Shut up, Dazai ! It is not favoritism ! ).

Dazai :

No matter to who you ask, they will always give you the same answer : Dazai isn’t the spokesman for mental health. He spent more of his youth torturing and killing people, hurting his subordinates and bathing in the darkness.

He’s not naive enough to expect himself to totally change but he can try.

Odasaku didn’t transform him, he only made him discover new possibilites. Possibilites he had ignored his whole life before : he could be a good person.

So when he had met Atsushi, he had quickly understood the orphan was the perfect opportunity to prove Odasaku was right.

Dazai can’t change Atsushi, he can’t alleviate his loneliness or give him physical comfort. He’s just not good at it. However, pissing people off, this he can do.

Atsushi is not good at expressing his feelings. He hides them and don’t let anyone see his anger or his sorrow. Most of the times, he only offers soft smile as if he doesn’t want anyone to see his negative pulsions. It just won’t do, Dazai concludes. So he starts ploting.

Some of Atsushi’s belongings start disappearing, Dazai steals his food everytime he lets his guard down. To summarize it : he finds every sore points and play with them. It’s only when Atsushi throws a pile of papers to his face that Dazai allows himself to smile truthfully.

This bright boy will be alright.

His nose is probably broken though.

Once again, I apologize for any grammar mistakes I didn’t pay as much attention to it as I usually do. Sorry.

#bungou stray dogs #atsushi nakajima #ask #a tiny bit of dazatsu if you really really squint

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yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere · 4 years

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“But what’s funny is: I’m the only one getting irritated. Every time the doorbell rings I’m like, this is it, this is the time Warner is finally going to lose his mind and shoot someone, but he never even seems to notice. Of all the things that piss him off, gawking men and women don’t appear to be on the list. “So is this, like, normal for you, or what?” I’m still arranging food on plates in the little dining area of my room. Warner is standing stiffly in a random spot by the window. He chose that random spot when we walked in and he’s just been standing there, staring at nothing, ever since.

“Is what normal for me?”

“All these people,” I say, gesturing at the door. “Coming in here pretending they’re not imagining you without your clothes on. Is that just, like, a normal day for you?”

“I think you’re forgetting,” he says quietly, “that I’ve been able to sense emotions for most of my life.”

I raise my eyebrows. “So this is just a normal day for you.” He sighs. Stares out the window again. “You’re not even going to pretend it’s not true?” I rip open a foil container. More potatoes. “You won’t even pretend you don’t know that the entire world finds you attractive?”

“Was that a confession?”

“You wish, dickhead.”

“I find it boring,” Warner says. “Besides, if I paid attention to every single person who found me attractive I’d never have time for anything else. ”

I nearly drop the potatoes. I wait for him to crack a smile, to tell me he’s joking, and when he doesn’t, I shake my head, stunned.- “Wow,” I say. “Your humility is a fucking inspiration.”(..)

“Hey,” I say, “speaking of things that disgust me— Do you maybe want to, like, wash a little bit of the blood off your face before we eat?” Warner glares at me in response. I hold up my hands. “Okay. Cool. That’s fine.” I point at him. “Actually, I heard that blood’s good for you. You know—organic. Antioxidants and shit. Very popular with vampires.”

“Are you able to hear the things you say out loud? Do you not realize how perfectly idiotic you sound?”

I roll my eyes. “All right, beauty queen, food’s ready.”

“I’m serious,” he says. “Does it never occur to you to think things through before you speak? Does it never occur to you to cease speaking altogether? If it doesn’t, it should.”

“Come on, asswipe. Sit down.” Reluctantly, Warner makes his way over. He sits down and stares, blankly, at the meal in front of him. I give him a few seconds of this before I say— “Do you still remember how to do this? Or did you need me to feed you?” I stab a piece of tofu and point it in his direction. “Say ah. The tofu choo choo is coming.”

“One more joke, Kishimoto, and I will remove your spine.”

“You’re right.” I put down the fork. “I get it. I’m cranky when I’m hungry, too.” He looks up sharply. “That wasn’t a joke!” I say. “I’m being serious.” Warner sighs. Picks up his utensils. Looks longingly at the door. I don’t push my luck. (..)

“So, You proposed, huh?” (..) He was hungry. I wonder what he would’ve done if I hadn’t dragged him in here and sat him down. Forced him to eat. Would he have just driven himself into the ground? Accidentally died of hunger on his way to save Juliette?

“Yes,” he says quietly. “I proposed.” I’m seized by a knee-jerk reaction to tease him—to suggest that his bad mood makes sense now, that she probably turned him down—but even I know better than that. Whatever is happening in Warner’s head right now is dark. Serious. And I need to handle this part of the conversation with care.

So I tread carefully. “I’m guessing she said yes.” Warner doesn’t meet my eyes. I take a deep breath, let it out slowly. It’s all beginning to make sense now. In the early days after Castle took me in, my guard was up so high I couldn’t even see over the top of it. I trusted no one. I believed nothing. I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I let anger rock me to sleep at night because being angry was far less scary than having faith in people---or in the future. I kept waiting for things to fall apart. I was so sure this happiness and safety wouldn’t last, that Castle would turn me out, or that he’d turn out to be a piece of shit. Abusive. Some kind of monster. I couldn’t relax. It took me years before I truly believed that I had a family. It took me years to accept, without hesitation, that Castle really loved me, or that good things could last. That I could be happy again without fear of repercussion. That’s why losing Omega Point was so cataclysmic. It was the amalgamation of nearly all my fears. So many people I loved had been wiped out overnight. My home. My family. My refuge. And the devastation had taken Castle, too. Castle, who’d been my rock and my role model; in the aftermath, he was a ghost. Unrecognizable. I didn’t know how anything would shake out after that. I didn’t know how we’d survive. Didn’t know where we’d go. It was Juliette who pulled us through. Those were the days when she and I got really close. That was when I realized I could not only trust her and open up to her, but that I could depend on her. I never knew just how strong she was until I saw her take charge, rising up and rallying us all when we were at our lowest, when even Castle was too broken too stand.

J made magic out of tragedy.

She found us safety and hope. Unified us with Sector 45— with Warner and Delalieu—even in the face of opposition, at the risk of losing Adam. She didn’t sit around waiting for Castle to take the reins like the rest of us did; there was no time for that. Instead, she dove right into the middle of hell, completely inexperienced and unprepared, because she was determined to save us. And to sacrifice herself in the process, if that was the cost. If it weren’t for her—if it weren’t for what she did, for all of us—I don’t know where we’d be. She saved our lives.

She saved my life, that’s for sure. Reached out a hand in the darkness. Pulled me out.

But none of it would’ve hurt as much if I’d lost Omega Point during my early years there. It wouldn’t have taken me so long to recover, and I wouldn’t have needed so much help to get through the pain. It hurt like that because I’d finally let my guard down. I’d finally allowed myself to believe that things were going to be okay. I’d begun to hope. To dream. To relax. I’d finally walked away from my own pessimism, and the moment I did, life stuck a knife in my back.

(.. )I would know. I’ve been there. And I’m looking at Warner right now and I see the same deadness behind his eyes. The torture that chases hope. That specific flavor of self-hatred experienced only after being dealt a tragic blow in response to optimism. I’m looking at him and I’m remembering the look on his face when he blew out his birthday candles. I’m remembering him and J afterward, cuddled up in the corner of the dining tent. I’m remembering how angry he was when I showed up at their room at the asscrack of dawn, determined to drag J out of bed on the morning of his birthday. I’m thinking—

“Fuck.” I throw down my fork. The plastic hits the foil plate with a surprising thud. “You two were engaged?”

Warner is staring at his food. He seems calm, but when he says, “Yes,” the word is a whisper so sad it drags a knife through my heart.

I shake my head. “I’m so sorry, man. I really am. You have no idea.”

Warner’s eyes flick up in surprise, but only for a moment. Eventually, he stabs a piece of broccoli. Stares at it. “This is disgusting,” he says. Which I realize is code for Thank you.

“Yeah,” I say. “It is.” Which is code for No worries, bro. I’m here for you.

Warner sighs. He puts down his utensils. Stares out the window. I can tell he’s about to say something when, abruptly, the doorbell rings. I swear under my breath.”

#Imagine Me #Kenji Kishimoto #aaron warner #aaron warner anderson #kenji and warner #warner and kenji #shatter me #shatter me series

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izupie · 6 years

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Fox Blossom

Kacchako - Bakugou Katsuki x Uraraka Ochako (My Hero Academia)

Words: 5,302

Tags: Kitsune Bakugou, Fluff, Hanami

AO3 Link: [xXx]

Note: Happy Kacchako Discord Server Gift Exchange Swap Day! (Try saying that five times fast...) The wonderful people at the @kacchako-server have all made gifts for each other!

My gift was for Syque - I was prompted to write some Kitsune!Bakugou, and boy oh boy I do not need encouragement to go down that road. This is actually set in the same universe as Fox Fire, but it’s just ahead in the story somewhat. So, mild spoilers I guess??

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

A bright crimson explosion of Fox Fire accompanied Bakugou’s entrance into the Human World – bursting around him before it swirled and faded into the air like mist. He shook his eight tails out and fanned them lazily behind himself.

The path leading up to Uravity-Inari Shrine was wet where it had been washed down, sparkling in the weak morning light. All the lamps lining it had been blown out too, so she’d obviously already been awake for some time - probably before sunrise again. Bakugou placed a clawed hand on his hip, his golden bracelets jingling with every movement.

It was still early, but the sky was clear and Bakugou had to resist the urge to tilt his head up and close his eyes in the warmth of the sun. It had a different quality than the sunshine in the Spirit World. It was somehow... more real... or something.

The rattling of a sliding wooden door interrupted his thoughts and an ear flicked in the direction of Uraraka’s tiny house. When he turned she was closing her front door behind her and wrestling with the stiff catch to get it locked into its frame and his burgundy eyes narrowed in confusion at her appearance; she was wearing a short green skirt and a white shirt. When she finally got the lock to catch with a sigh, she spun around and straightened a red tie around her neck. It threw him completely to see her in something other than her Miko uniform during the day. She noticed him and waved, but his usual scowl remained fixed in place even as her waving increased in speed and she yelled his name as she trotted over. An old wicker basket with a cloth tucked over its contents swung wildly in the crook of her arm.

“Disguise yourself as a human!” She burst out as she neared.

His ears flattened. “What-”

“It’s Hanami time,” she said in a breathless explanation, her big brown eyes shining with excitement, “so you’ve got to disguise yourself as a human, okay?”

All eight of Bakugou’s tails flicked in different directions. “Slow the fuck down. What’s Hanami? And what’s with those weird clothes-”

“We’re going undercover.” She laughed playfully. “Come on - I’ll explain when we get there!”

Without waiting for a reply, Uraraka reached over and grabbed his hand. She grinned at him, her round cheeks pink and flushed with her energy, then gave his arm a little tug to encourage him to follow her.

“H-Hey!” He growled.

All of Bakugou’s fiery responses were disarmed in instant by the combination of that smile and the feel of her soft soft skin in his hand. He knew his palms were heavily calloused and scarred from the effects of him pushing his powers and he was careful not to let the claws on the end of his fingers cut her skin, but she hadn’t even hesitated to hold his hand or flinched at the feel of them.

With a groan he allowed himself to be pulled along by the tiny bossy Miko, while her hand remained tight around his, making her arm pull behind her as she trotted a pace or two ahead of him. He wondered if she knew that she was the only person in his world or hers that could get him to do things like this. Although right then it made his skin twitch with frustration that he was letting himself be led along like a stray dog. As a Kitsune he should be ashamed of himself... But if he’d have refused to come he wouldn’t have put it past her to have fully dragged his ass to wherever she was taking him anyway. He’d spent most of his long life avoiding humans, believing them to be weak and worthless, but she was the most tenacious being he’d ever met, human or not, with an inner spirit as strong as her ideals and she possessed a courage like nothing he’d ever seen. It was like this lonely girl held no fear of him at all... It both pissed him off and fucking impressed him in equal measure.

Her hair bounced around her shoulders as they rapidly descended the steps snaking down Uravity Hill, the stone weathered and cracked beneath their feet, while all his jewellery jingled loudly. There was a distinct absence of the satisfying clacking noise Uraraka’s wooden sandals made on the stone, as her odd clothing choice included brown rubber soled shoes and his bare feet made barely more than a whisper.

When they finally reached the bottom of the steps Uraraka took a deep breath and wiped some sweat from her hairline. She didn’t often make the journey down the hill, especially at speed like that, and he guessed it was a different kind of exercise to her usual running laps around the Shrine. Her red cheeks were even more vibrant than usual with the exertion. He was about to finally demand that she tell him what was going on when Uraraka pulled him forward a few paces and looked pointedly both ways down the path that ran across the beginning of the steps, peeking around the huge columns of the red Tori Gate that indicated the entrance to the hill. Seemingly satisfied she turned back to him so suddenly her hair flicked up around her face like it could float.

“Coast is clear,” she stated with a smile, “so you can go ahead and change.”

Bakugou let out an angry sigh, “My human form is weak.”

He felt a jab of something he couldn’t identify in his gut when he realised he wasn’t sure whether he didn’t want to be in a weakened state for himself, as he hated how sluggish his reflexes and powers were, or whether it was for her; she’d sooner try and fight a demon than run away or leave someone else in danger and that left her in the firing line...

“Hey, humans can be strong too,” Uraraka said with a sly look, as if sensing his thoughts. She squeezed his hand, and he knew she was thinking of the time she’d slammed him to the ground like a bag of fucking rice back when she’d called him out for his hidden identity. He couldn’t help the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk at the memory he should be embarrassed about, because a spark of respect had been burning away at his shame ever since then - when he’d gaped up with disbelief at her furious expression, his back pressed hard against the floor.

What had this damn Miko done to him?

“Maybe humans are only strong when they can catch someone off guard...” Bakugou conceded, trying to push away his racing, confusing, conflicting feelings.

Uraraka grinned. “Maybe Kitsunes should be less full of themselves and see humans as stronger than they look - then they wouldn’t be caught so ‘off guard’ when they’re proven wrong.”

Bakugou nearly let out a bark of laughter at just how accurate she was. How the fuck did she do that?

“Alright Round-Face, here’s a deal...” He felt a smug jab of satisfaction when his nickname for her made her huff. “I go to wherever you’re dragging me to, but then when we get back to the Shrine we’re having a rematch. A real one - no powers, no special abilities, just the two of us... Then we’ll see who the strong one is.”

Uraraka’s eyes flashed with excitement and a steely expression fixed itself onto her face. “You’re on, Kitsune, it’s a deal!”

Something odd and light twisted into Bakugou’s stomach.

“Someone’s gotta teach you real form anyway. Books can’t teach you shit about how it feels to actually put that stuff into practice,” he grumbled.

“Are you bad mouthing my book-teachers?” Uraraka gasped. “You force my hand into defending their honour.” She brought a fist up in front of her face. (Her other hand still hadn’t let go of his yet.)

Bakugou cleared his throat and looked at the sky. “Save it for later, Round-Face.”

She giggled, and he absolutely and completely refused to listen to the tiny voice in his head screaming cute at him. No fucking way.

Uraraka reached over to ruffle his fluffy, spiky hair - she had to stand on her tip-toes - but he ducked his head away with a strangled attempt at a growl, that came out weak from the tingle of pleasure it sent rocketing down his spine as her hand accidentally brushed the fur over the sensitive skin on one of his fox ears.

“You can complain about it all you want when we get there,” she declared, free hand resting on her hip, totally unaware of what she could do to him with just one touch. “We don’t even have to stay long. But this will be something... nice that we can do together, before... you know.” Her expression grew sad and she looked away slightly. “Happy memories are like charms against dark thoughts. They have more power than you think.”

Bakugou wondered how often she had relied on this sentiment to get her through the two years she’d spent totally alone.

“There’ll also be some fried tofu,” she added, with a coy glance at him and a wiggle of the basket she was holding on her elbow.

He kept it cool with a shrug and a noncommittal, “Fine. As long as our deal holds I’ll stay as long as you want.”

Bakugou finally let go of her hand to unclip the many golden earrings from his fox ears, and he pulled off his bracelets and his choker, but paused for a moment before offering them out for Uraraka. She took them from him with a serious expression, clutching his jewellery tightly in her hand before she tucked them into the safety of her basket.

He closed his eyes and let out a small breath, then tapped into his inner powers and let it flow over his skin.

The tingles were unpleasant and there was a painful jolt in his heartbeat as his body dealt with the sudden numbness and loss of his fox limbs. His ears and tails faded, replaced with human ears, and a phantom burning stung where his tails should be. He kept the magic going and gritted his teeth, kitsune canine fangs now smaller and human sized too, as he fought to keep his features impassive through the odd pain shifting into this form gave him.

Changing his appearance through an illusion was easy and painless; he was still the same fundamentally, he was just changing how he was perceived. Even shifting into his fox form was barely more than an inconvenience. It was only ever his human form that felt so unnatural.

There was nothing he could do to shift his clothes, as they were not organically a part of him, so they could only be disguised through an illusion. On the outside it would look like he was wearing a white shirt and green pants that matched Uraraka’s clothing (he refused to add a tie to the illusion) but he was actually still wearing his tight black tank top, baggy pants and arm sleeves.

If it wasn’t so damn sunny he could have hidden his fox features under an illusion too, but his shadow couldn’t be changed, so it would be a pointless endeavour if the first person that saw his shadow noticed the eight kitsune tails and ears on his head.

With a final steadying breath, the transformation was complete.

When he opened his eyes Uraraka was staring, and he briefly wondered what it would have looked like to her. Her eyebrows were tilted down in concern, worry clouding her features, and it was only when she gave his hand another squeeze that he realised they were holding hands again.

“Are you okay? I didn’t think... I didn’t know it would hurt you... Does it hurt? I wouldn’t have asked if I’d have known.” She bit her lip.

Bakugou instantly let go as if she’d burned him, shoving his hands into the pockets of his illusion, feeling them as real as his normal clothes.

“Fuck no. It’s just... weird,” he lied with a shrug.

He hoped he hadn’t reached out for her hand without realising. Gods that would be embarrassing. At least in this form he had no fox ears that would flatten and give him away, or multiple tails that would flick and bristle along with his moods. (She’d already figured out his damn tells for when he was lying.)

He chanced a glance down at the hand he’d thrown off and noticed the redness of her skin from where he’d obviously gripped her too hard, which only made him scowl from the guilt and hiss an irritated ‘tch’.

“Well I’m still sorry all the same,” she supplied, undeterred by his attitude, which only made his scowl deeper because she still knew he was lying, regardless of the form he was in. “Anyway, now you’re ready we can....”

Her voice trailed away and after a few moments of silence Bakugou became aware of her intense gaze fixed on him and he shifted uncomfortably. His voice came out in a snap, “What?”

Her eyes roamed his face, and he felt an unwanted flush of heat burning into the tips of his human ears at her scrutiny.

“Look - if you’re just going to fucking stare then-”

She blinked. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just... I forgot that your eyes are green when you’re like this. I miss your red eyes, they’re more you.” She added, with a crinkle of her nose.

Bakugou felt the heat from his ears spreading onto his cheeks, but he managed a rough, “Huh?”

“And your markings,” she continued, bringing a hand up between them like she was fighting the urge to reach out and touch the skin beneath his eyes. “It’s weird to see you without those little red stripes.”

With no indication he was going to pull away, she let a finger hesitantly close the distance between them and gently (oh so gently) touch just above his cheek where his red Kitsune stripes used to be. Bakugou’s breathing sped up along with his erratic heartbeat and he wondered if he was suffering after effects of the transformation.

“Oh! And your hands!” Uraraka squeaked, tearing her hand away and reaching down to pull his up for her to inspect. “They’re so soft now. No scars.” She ran her thumbs over his palms. “No claws either,” she observed.

He tried to keep his voice steady, but it cracked on his very first word, “Human form,” he cleared his throat again, “dumbass. Don’t see many humans running around with claws.”

Uraraka smiled. “It just doesn’t seem right somehow! I think I miss your cute fluffy ears and tails most of all though,” she lamented, gazing sadly at the top of his head, her fingers idly lacing together with his, jolting that odd feeling in the bottom of his stomach again.

“Don’t call them fucking cute,” he snapped, making her chuckle. “Are we going or not?”

“You’re right! Gotta get there before all the best spots are taken, come on!” Uraraka released him and sped away from him. He took a deep, deep breath and let it out shakily, then jogged after her to catch up.

When Uraraka announced that they had arrived at their destination Bakugou realised why she had insisted he disguise himself first - there were people everywhere and it felt like the entire village had somehow crammed itself into their only park. A sea of pink blossoms stretched out before him. People walked casually beneath their branches on the paths, took selfies with the trees or with each other, or sat together on picnic blankets that nearly covered every inch of grass. There was a loud buzz of laughter and conversation and excitement that almost permeated the air itself, thick with the fragrance of sweet cherry blossoms and the tang of alcohol. Bakugou felt almost dizzy with it all, even with his senses dulled.

“Oh... it doesn’t look like there’s many spaces left, but I think I can still find us a good spot though, you can count on me.” Uraraka flashed him a determined smile.

It was difficult to move through the flow of people walking around the blossom trees and Uraraka apologised when other people bumped into them, making his skin crawl.

When at last she declared that she had found them a place to sit among the trees, she pulled the blanket out from her basket and spread it on the grass, flopping onto it with a happy sigh. Bakugou lowered himself down and sat cross legged.

“What is all this?” he yelled above the noise.

“Hanami!” Uraraka rolled onto her knees and spread out her arms to gesture at the scenery. He frowned, which she obviously took as her cue to explain because she continued happily, “The cherry blossoms bloom and everyone celebrates by coming to see them, because it’s supposed to be good luck for the year to sit beneath them and have a picnic. Today is the first day, so it’s always the busiest.”

Bakugou gave a noncommittal hum as he gazed up at the pink blossoms above them. “Alright, but what’s with the clothes?”

“O-Oh, well, it’s- you have your disguise... and I have mine.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Uraraka straightened out her skirt. “Well... This is my old uniform from the village high school, you see. It still fits me and everything, since I’m so small.” She laughed, but there was no humour in it, and fidgeted with her tie. “I wear it sometimes when I don’t want anyone to notice me.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows drew together in an angry line.

“You’ve seen how everyone in this village gets when they see me,” she sighed defensively, “but if I wear this instead of my Miko uniform they don’t recognise me! Nobody even gives me a second glance... If I don’t feel like attracting attention, I put this on. Today I really didn’t want people to freak out and move away from us, especially since everyone should enjoy Hanami.”

Bakugou scoffed. “You care too much about them and what they think. If they get hung up with their own crazy paranoia, then that’s their problem. Who gives a damn about their opinions anyway? Idiots don’t even know how curses work - it's not like some fucking disease you can catch.”

She sighed again. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell everyone. Not that I even have a curse - because I don’t.” Uraraka waved a hand in the air. “But nobody ever believes me...”

For a moment neither of them said anything, and Uraraka tilted her head up to the softly coloured blossoms, taking a deep breath of the sweetly fragranced air.

“Alright.” Bakugou snapped suddenly, bringing her attention back to him. “Stop wasting time thinking about these loser villagers and show me the food you blackmailed me with.”

“Blackmail? Me?” Uraraka puffed out her pink cheeks, but Bakugou gave her a look and she laughed. “I think you’ll be impressed, ” she leaned forward and rummaged in the basket, “these are some of my best attempts at cooking yet.”

The change in topic seemed to ease some of the tension in her shoulders and the sadness in her eyes. She’d been ostracized by these people for so long that she no longer knew how to function among them, acting like she was using an illusion to hide herself from their notice. After two years of cold shoulders, whispers and suspicion he supposed it was no surprise that she held conflicting feelings about them all.

Shit. He didn’t get why thinking about what they'd done to her made his chest tight with anger...

Bakugou folded his arms.

“Best ‘attempts’ doesn’t fill me with confidence. If your terrible cooking kills me before I get my ninth tail, I’ll come back to haunt your ass.”

Uraraka made a mocking wailing noise and collapsed down onto the blanket, clutching her chest. “Why would you wound me so?” she groaned loudly.

Bakugou was about to bite back a response when he noticed an old woman, sitting with her knees tucked under her on one of the blankets next to them, had shot a withering look over at Uraraka’s terrible, loud acting. She paused, squinting her beady eyes, then leaned over to whisper something into the ear of an old man beside her. The old man’s wrinkled face pulled into an alarmed frown as he also looked over, then he nodded and whispered something back. Bakugou hated that his senses were not sharp enough to pick up on what they were saying, but he watched them closely and felt his palms begin to heat up with the Fox Fire trapped under his human form’s skin - he could guess at what they were talking about.

The old couple began to look nervous, their eyes darting between him and Uraraka, who was now sat upright again and following his angry line of sight. She ducked her head down when she noticed the couple, but not before they got a good look at her face. They spoke in hurried, urgent whispers to each other and began to pack away their picnic in a flap.

Bakugou was sure his hands were going to explode. He rose to his feet.

“You got a fucking problem?” He hissed at them, barely containing his temper and shaking slightly with the effort.

Uraraka violently shook her head. “Bakugou- it’s- it’s fine. Let’s just go. I don’t want to make a scene.”

It was a little too late to not cause a scene, he thought, since his outburst and the old couple’s outraged gasps at his language and attitude had drawn the attention of some of the other picnic-goers around them. He could see some of them muttering to each other, while a few were even trying to shift as far away from her as they could in alarm. Narrow-minded, judgemental, pieces of-

“Too right we’re leaving.” Bakugou nearly yelled, feeling his anger burning him up. He’d never felt like this on someone else’s behalf.

He bent down and placed his hand just below Uraraka's ear, brushing back her long bangs to bring his mouth close enough to whisper a rumbled, “Keep hold of the basket and your damn blanket.”

“E-Eh?” She managed in confusion, redness blooming across her cheeks. He stepped off the pink fabric and Uraraka yelped sharply in surprise as he reached down to scoop her up into his arms. Even as shocked as she was she kept a firm hold of her basket, so it slid into the crook of her elbow again, and her hand grabbed the blanket just as she was lifted from the ground. He may not be as strong in this form, but he was still plenty strong enough. Holding her in his arms was easy.

“B-B-Bakugou- what are you-?”

He knew his idea was bad. He knew his idea was fucking terrible, but he couldn’t stop himself now. Bakugou let his power flow through his veins and pushed it through his whole body until he could feel it trapped and pulsing under his skin.

“Bakugou?” She tried again more insistently, very aware of the faces all turned toward them.

“Hold on tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

Uraraka obeyed instantly; wrapping her arms tight around his neck and burrowing her face into his chest, though whether it was through following his instructions or as an excuse to hide her face from the crowd he wasn’t sure.

With her safely secured he finally let his powers push them through the veil into the Spirit World.

The accompanying blast of Fox Fire that marked his entrance through the veil was explosive and bright and washed away his human form, leaving his regular Kitsune appearance behind. He flinched as feeling rushed to his fox limbs.

Uraraka’s arms were still clasped tightly around his neck. She was shivering.

“Hey... You okay Round-Face?” Bakugou rumbled into her hair.

Uraraka shoved her hands hard into his chest, making him grunt in surprise, rolled out of his arms and staggered to her feet, wobbling back a few paces. Her hand was clamped tightly over her mouth to stifle her nausea. Crossing the veil always set off her motion sickness, and it hadn’t been a particularly smooth transition.

Her voice was muffled by her hand, but still laced with anger, “Why’d you do that?! I can’t believe you did that in front of everyone! What will... they... say...” Her voice faded as she finally seemed to notice their surroundings, her eyes widening as she straightened up, though her hand remained firmly at her mouth. “Oh Gods...”

He’d shifted them into a similar location to where they’d been - grassy spaces and blossom trees - except that the blossom trees in the Spirit World were almost twice the size of those they had left behind; their trunks were much thicker, and their mass of branches were teeming with huge bright blossoms way above their heads. The canopy was so thick with pink that it dyed the sunlight filtering through it, giving the air an almost rosy glow. The sun was just as bright here, even if it lacked the warmth he had enjoyed of the Human World version, and it dappled through the spaces between the blossoms and painted the grass below in splotches of soft light.

That jumpy, fluttery feeling fizzed into his chest again as he watched her under the shifting light; she turned on the spot in pure wonderment, and a bubble of laughter escaped as her hand finally dropped from her mouth. Her cheeks were bright and flushed with pink as her nausea faded and she lost herself in the amazement. She ran to the nearest tree trunk and placed a curious hand against it, gazing straight up into the blossoms, and gasped with joy when a large petal danced down to her from above.

“This is incredible,” she whispered.

You are.

“Looks like a real hanami to me,” he crowed, “way better than the pathetic trees all those damn losers are sitting under right now. You should get double the luck they get.” His voice had an arrogant edge to it, thick with satisfaction.

Uraraka laughed. After a moment her expression darkened. “Pretty sure nobody is going to come to the Shrine now they think I’m in leagues with a Kitsune.” She lamented.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, from what I saw back there that would be the only reason nobody would go the Shrine.” He bit with sarcasm, guilt making his words sharper than he intended.

Uraraka winced. His ears flattened in a guilty response before he could stop them.

Ah, shit, I shouldn’t have said that.

He let out a huff and turned away, his ears still flat and tails flicking.

There was an awkward silence before he heard Uraraka approaching slowly. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to see her reach up a hand towards his face, and he was curious enough to be still while she moved - until she flicked him on the nose.

“Ow! What the fuck!” He clamped his hands over his nose and jumped back a step. “What was that for?!”

She folded her arms, trying to look stern, but her eyes were immensely sad. He really shouldn’t have said that about her Shrine. The reason everyone thought it was cursed in the first place was because her parents had died there so suddenly one day, leaving her alone to take care of everything and herself.

Insensitive. Insensitive.

He supposed he might have deserved that...

“When foxes say nasty things, you flick them on the nose,” Uraraka declared, holding her hands up as if she simply spoke the truth.

“What the- nobody has ever said that.”

“Oh, you’re right... maybe it was sharks,” she mused, folding her arms.

“What?” Bakugou scoffed. “Nobody has ever fucking said that either!”

“Hmm... Yeah, actually, I think the advice was: ‘When a shark tries to bite you, you punch it in the nose.’” She punched the air.

“Then why’d you flick mine?!” He snapped.

A smile twitched at the corner of her lips and her eyes sparkled with mischief while she continued to punch the air.

She was messing with him. She was fucking messing with him.

He growled a loud sigh, running a hand through his hair, which only served to amuse her further.

“Nobody was ever going to come to the Shrine anyway, were they...” Understanding and acceptance clouded her features.

Bakugou let the question hang in the air; she didn’t need him to tell her what she already knew deep down.

Uraraka suddenly slapped her hands to her cheeks and shook her head, making him jump. “Everything that’s happened since we met has been one crazy thing after another.”

“It’s been pretty fucked up,” he agreed.

“Well,” Uraraka chirped, “I’m done fighting against it.”

She pulled out the pink blanket once more and flapped it high into the air, so it floated gently down onto the grass.

“It’s still Hanami, and we’re still going to have our picnic.” She bounced down to her knees again and tapped the space beside her, motioning for him to take a seat.

Bakugou lowered himself to the blanket, folding his knees to sit cross-legged again, while Uraraka pulled out bundles of food and bottles of drink that she laid out between them.

He was enjoying some fried tofu when she spoke again, nearly making him choke. “I bet they think you’re an evil spirit,” she shot with a sly smile.

Bakugou swallowed hard (it was a little tough, but she’d added some good flavours) and he shrugged, his eight tails fanning out on the blanket behind him. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

She laughed again and gave him one of her sunshine smiles, remembering when they’d first met, and Bakugou let out an amused huff at the memory too.

“I, um...” Uraraka fidgeted with her tie. “I wanted to thank you for getting angry at the villagers for me. I don’t think I’ve seen you that angry but still in control before.”

Bakugou blinked.

“And,” she locked her large brown eyes with his and her expression softened, “thank you for taking me out of there. I don’t know what the fallout will be when I get back... but... that was the first time anyone has really stood up for me, so thank you.”

He cleared his throat and his tails swished agitatedly behind him.

“Yeah... Well... You’re going to be twice as lucky as those bastards now, so they might have forgotten all about it,” he grumbled awkwardly, not used to accepting praise or thanks.

“I can’t believe you don’t celebrate it here in the Spirit World - these blossom trees are incredible,” she murmured, looking up into the canopy again.

“What’s there to celebrate?” Bakugou shrugged. “The trees are just doing what they should.”

“New life! Pretty blossoms! Family and friends!” Uraraka exclaimed, with a clap of her hands on each word.

Bakugou rolled his eyes and picked up some more food.

“It’s actually my first time enjoying all of this since... for a couple of years anyway,” she continued, “so I intend to do it right!”

“So... how do you know when the hamster-y magic has worked anyway?” Bakugou took another bite of fried tofu.

“Hanami,” Uraraka corrected with a laugh. Her gaze became tender as she looked over at him eating her food and an unwanted heat returned to his cheeks.

“What?” He snapped, mouth still full of tofu.

“I’m already feeling like the luckiest girl in both the worlds - so I think it must be working already.”

#kacchako #kacchako fic #bakuraka #kitsune bakugou #bakugou x uraraka #gift exchange #my fanfiction #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction #kacchako fox fire

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maknaes-and-hyungs · 6 years

Text

When Their Significant Other Isn’t Really Affectionate{Shinee Reaction}

Note: So this is based on the BTS song What Am I To You, because I love it so much and Namjoon’s rapping is the bomb. Also I love the meaning of the lyrics and stuff and yada yada yada enjoy!(P.S. The lyric used will be italicized)~Rin

Jinki/Onew

“Hey Y/N!” You looked up from your phone to see Jinki, your boyfriend, separating from the rest of his group mates. His hands were held behind his back as he approached, probably holding a gift for you. He was always doing things like this even though you had just started dating a two months ago and while it was nice to be pampered you hated the attention it brought to you.

“Jinki,” Your face lifted slightly in the corner as you trailed off in trepidation at what was to come, “Is that a gift for me?”

He didn’t even answer before surprising you and leaning in to give you an Eskimo kiss(rubbing noses together which honestly...yes). On the inside you longed to lean in and feel his ever so soft skin against yours. Not to mention the sweetness of it all made your heart glow. Except for the fact that everyone watching made you feel weak for excepting affection even if you really wanted it.

“Seriously Jinki, why do you always do this to me. I mean-”

“You put up your thorns, but I can see you’re a rose ,but I wish I wouldn’t have to pull out every single thorn to just get a glimpse before they grow out again,” a groan started to escape your lips, because you were so used to this conversation, “No don’t do that. If you can’t actually open up to me I’m done.”

With that Jinki stood up throwing on his jacket and snap back that had been resting at his waist. You could tell that if you didn’t do anything now that you would never have a chance again. Still you stood glued to the ground as you watched his back, flip flopping between going after him or turning away. In the end you rushed forward and enveloped him in a back hug with your face buried in his back.

“I love you and I hope I can get better at this whole affection thingy.” Jinki picked up your hands and kissed them.

“It doesn’t have to be immediately, but I’m glad you’re willing to try for me Y/N.”

Kibum/Key

“Key you gotta do aegyo. It’s practically in your contract.” Kibum conceded to Sangmin, but not without rolling his eyes all the way back into his head. What came next was like tofu, supposed to be a substitute but clearly not living up to the actual thing. Rather then cringing like usual you let out a small laugh which didn’t go unnoticed by everyone on set.

“Oh I see you infamous girlfriend is here to support you.”

“Nah Y/N is just here to make sure we win some meat.” You raised your hands and gave everyone finger guns while winking. You had no shame in your love for meat and everyone in the entertainment industry knew it even if they hadn’t met you.

“Well since she’s here we have to see your couple aegyo. It’s going to be the exclusive of the century.”Shin-young was already gripping your arm ceasing all the protests that had been bubbling up to your lips. Kibum’s adversity to aegyo that you had thought was going to save you never showed in your moment of need. In fact when you looked over at him you swore he looked like he was anticipating what was to come.

“Yeah I’d rather not if that’s okay.” The looks you received made it clear that it was entirely not and you were dropped of by Shin-Young next to your boyfriend. All of the previous eye rolling was absent and Kibum grabbed your hand excitedly. In a moment you would regret for forever, you snatched your hand away.

Everyone was too busy vamping to see, but Kibum glared down at you. Although you didn’t notice, because you were already walking to the dressing rooms to retrieve your coat and leave. It wasn’t until Kibum followed after you that anyone noticed the tension.

“Y/N. Y/N!” Kibum finally reached you in the dressing room as he slammed the door shut and yelled.

“I’d rather not do this.”

“No we are doing this! Even if we’re not couple-y and affectionate I want to link arms with you like everyone else and comfort each other and really mean it. I may act annoyed, but with you I just don’t care and all I want to do is kiss your entire face even if people are watching. Why don’t you?”

“I DO WANT YOU TO BUT I GET EMBARASSED BY THINGS I DON’T EVEN DO SO HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO-”

“With me...that’s how.” All the tension fell from his shoulders and he enveloped you in a hug as you began to shake with sobs. You weren’t sad but relieved to have finally spoke your mind to him.

Minho

(Credit to http://bndnlover.tumblr.com/post/126101288854/gifs-of-captain-dorkus-141infinity-because)

You and Minho never yelled at each other. It wasn’t like it had never occurred before, because it happens in all relationship. You and minho just never yelled at each other. There was no 0 to 100 with you guys...at least because you guys had been at 100 for a month now. Two months in and all you guys did was scream, no yelling though, no yelling.

Whether Minho forgot to get milk or he came back smelling like another girl you always had the same reaction, screaming at him in anger. Whether you were asleep before he came home or you threw his shit out into the hall he would make sure to tell you everything wrong at the optimal volume that was screaming.If truth is to be told Minho started it.

Kibum had been over watching a movie with your boyfriend when you had come home exhausted. All you had wanted was to cuddle up to Minho and have him sing you to sleep. Of course the one member he had over was the only one you would have a problem with. Kibum had a known dislike for aegyo and since you looked up to him so much you would hate to disappoint him. So thinking you were just gonna trudge to your room and sleep you were ready for when Minho grasped your hand and dragged you into his lap.

Only thinking of Kibum you pushed off of Minho and gave him a chilling look. Regret coursed through your body like electricity but it was nothing to compared to your need to protect your image in front of Kibum. Minho realized this and started screaming at you to fuck Kibum if you cared more about him then your own boyfriend. This is when you slapped him and started screaming back about the perfume that you had never actually smelled on him before. Kibum slowly rose from the couch and snuck out to avoid what he could only think of as an impending break up.

Except that you two never actually broke up no matter how bad things got. You just plain out refused to break up with him until you figured out why he had snapped at you that day. As for Minho you had no idea why he did the things he did nowadays. It wasn’t until you spent your birthday, a day you knew he had free, alone that you were done with it all. When- no- if he ever came over you were either going to get to the bottom of things or break it off completely.

It was 11:46 when you got your chance at a confrontation, but instead of screaming you meekly let words fall from your lips, “Why did you get so made at me Minho? Why would you think that I would ever want Kibum over you? I...”, you put your head in your hands and pushed back your disheveled before continuing,”I’ve been friends with you all for so many years and never once have I looked at anyone the way I’ve looked at you. I only looked up to Kibum because of my interest in fashion.”

“It’s not that I wanted to win over you, but I didn’t want to keep losing either. I don’t know if you knowingly did this but it isn’t just Kibum that you do this in front of. Even when were alone you push my affection away so much before giving in even if its just holding your hand. I am too tired to put up with your Kibum excuse.”

“We may not have been dating a long time, but we’ve been friends. So what if I open up and you decided that you’re tired of me only after one month of actually dating.” Minho pulled you in close to passionately kiss you, it was the first one you guys had since the fighting had begun, and it was slow and full of all the love you hadn’t been sharing.

“I love you Y/N. I know it had only been a month, but all those years of friendship only made me fonder. It is the opposite of what you think and I never want you to think that again.”

Taemin

Your phone slipped from your hand and you dropped your head onto your pillow with a muffled thump. As much as you were pissed at Taemin for insinuating you would ever cheat you were too tired to deal with any of it. He was always interpreting your short answers as having some hidden and insidious message. In reality you didn’t want your affection to be on record forever and for anyone to potentially see.

What if you guys broke up? What if a future boyfriend found the texts, not that you wanted to ever have another boyfriend other than Taemin, and used it as a reason to break up? What if you let your heart open up and Taemin turned around and spilled it to everyone else? The slam of your door hitting the wall resounded through your apartment cutting of your anxiety before you could have another full blown panic attack.

“How could you?” Taemin barged in, anger written across every inch of his being, expecting to see you with someone else or to not see you at all.

“Seriously...I’m not cheating on you,” While you weren’t having a panic attack yet, you were quickly thrust back up onto the precipice and having to say anymore then what you had would be detrimental.

“What do you mean you aren’t cheating on me Y/N.”

“I’m not being unfaithful to you Taemin.” Taemin groaned out in anger and slammed his hand against the wall. His back tensed up and you could see every line that his dancing had sculpted standing out against his black tee.

“Why am I finding an excuse to call you like I’m a sinner?You always give short answers like yes, I’m sleeping, no Your messages don’t exceed 10 bytes. How else am I supposed to interpret things other than your too busy fucking to be with me.”

“I have really bad anxiety Taemin and even having this conversation is edging me towards a panic attack. Everytime I text you I want to say more, but then I get sick to my stomache and think that you’re gonna leave me like so many people already have. That doesn’t mean I’m cheating or that I don’t love you-”

“How am I supposed to believe you Y/N!” You knew that one way or another you were gonna have a panic attack at this point so you reached into your bedside table and threw a notebook at your boyfriend. It was the one that you wrote all of the messages that you wanted to send in place of the ones you had. Where you had said no when you had wanted to say I want nothing more then to be wrapped in your arms, because they feel like home. Where a I’m sleeping was instead a please come to me cause I don’t know if I can get to sleep without seeing your face.

“Y/N... I... I love you and I am so sorry,” Taemin enveloped you in a hug and the two of you lied down in silence for hours just holding each other. You might not be able to send the texts you wanted just yet, but at least Taemin would know what you meant.

#shinee #shinee angst #shinee fluff #shinee reaction #shinee reactions #jinki #onew #taemin #minho #key #kibum

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god--baby · 6 years

Text

nice to meet you ch 1 (sfw)

eventual belch huggins x ambiguously gendered reader

word count: 2040

“If you don’t stop playing with that, I’m going to make you take it out and put it on my desk.”

You looked up from the notes you were taking to see Mr. Oliver looking right at you, pointing at your face where you were playing with one of your snake bites, pushing at it with your tongue.

“No, you won’t,” you said, defiant. “My parents fought tooth and nail for me to wear these, and the principal won’t be pleased to hear about you doing that.”

He rolled his eyes. God, you didn’t like him before, but now, you hated him.

“They didn’t fight for you to distract yourself and the rest of the class,” he said.

“I’m not distracted — it helps me think,” you said, holding up your notebook, showing off the notes you’d been making up until he started being so rude. “Besides, no one else is distracted by my piercings. Right?”

You looked around at your classmates. No one made eye contact with you, embarrassed. One boy, a bigger guy who sat at the back of the room, actually looked away when you caught his eyes.

Traitors, you thought.

“Either take them out or go sit in the hallway for the rest of the period,” said Mr. Oliver. “I won’t have you disrupting my class.”

“You’re the one disrupting class over my piercings. I was minding my own business,” you pointed out.

“Out,” he said sharply.

You heaved an enormous sigh, determined to continue pissing him off. Asshole. You gathered your things and went out to the hall, slamming the classroom door closed behind you, sitting on the floor beside it.

You took your notebook out and started drawing all over the last page of notes, since you weren’t going to finish it anyway. Crowns and bleeding hearts and swords and things, soothing yourself by tonguing at your piercings.

After ten minutes — you’d been sent out fairly early in the class period — you gave up on him coming out to actually acknowledge your existence. You got up and started walking toward the front of the building, intending to go out to your car and smoke.

You passed Patrick Hockstetter, infamous asshole, being escorted by Mr. Cleaver — the incredibly brawny and handsome Chem teacher. You held back a sigh. He was too dreamy.

Patrick, however.

“Hey, there,” he said, giving you a scummy once-over.

You rolled your eyes.

“Move along, Patrick,” said Mr. Cleaver. He sent you a sympathetic look.

You wondered what Patrick had done, this time.

You were new enough to the school that you didn’t know much about anyone, but you’d have to be dead to not know about Patrick Hockstetter. Last week, he’d started a fire in the girls’ locker room. Today — well, you were sure you’d hear about it, eventually.

Not that anyone would tell you. You’d have to eavesdrop for that.

Once you got out to your car, you checked your reflection in the side mirror. Your eye makeup and lipstick were still going strong. Black and deep, both of them. Your hair was looking a little deflated, but you couldn’t care less at this point.

You felt how your hair looked. No air left in you.

Why did adults have to be such assholes?

Some people just couldn’t handle how you looked.

You lit up a cigarette, grateful for the short rush you got with the first drag.

A new school, and you were already making enemies with the staff. A new school, and again, people singled you out and made you feel like shit. You couldn’t make friends because no one wanted to hang out with someone who tried to look dead, with someone, well. Goth.

You sighed and finished your cigarette.

The bell rang, signaling for the whole school to go to lunch. You went back into the building to your locker, getting your lunchbox and going back outside to sit on the steps and eat.

More tofu. Your parents, raised by hippies and not going to ever let that go, had made tofu lo mein last night for dinner, and you liked it so much that you’d packed it for lunch. Would’ve been better if you could microwave it, but oh well. It was still damn decent cold.

As you ate, a group of guys pushed past you, knocking your shoulder with their knees.

“Freak,” one of them spat.

You looked up. It was the blonde one, the one called Henry.

You glared and flipped him off, one chipped fingernail in the air. He laughed, and you laughed back, cruel and unforgiving.

You knew you were soft on the inside, but on the outside, you were scary. You knew it, and you used it when you had to.

The other guys followed him, Patrick and the boy from your last class pulling up the rear.

What was his name, the one who’d looked away when you’d tried to catch his eye?

You went back to your food.

It didn’t matter.

After school, shit hit the fan. For about a minute after you pulled out of the school parking lot, everything was fine. Then, your steering wheel started shaking violently. You swore and pulled over.

You pulled out your cell phone and called your dad first, then your mom. Neither of them picked up, probably too busy with work. You understood. Running a thrift store took a lot of time and energy.

You swore again, though.

Then, you looked up the nearest mechanic shop.

You drove there, refusing to go any faster than ten miles an hour, despite people honking at you.

You pulled into the parking lot, next to a beautiful blue car you recognized from school.

“Reggie! We got another. Clock in and get your ass over there!” a man called.

You waited by your car, and a boy walked up to you. No. Not a boy. The boy — the one who’d looked away in class.

“What’s the problem?” he asked, rubbing his hands on his jumpsuit, giving you a once over. His eyes seemed to get caught on your boots, tall platforms with buckles all the way up to your knees.

“Reggie. That’s your name?” you asked, not answering him just yet. “I’ve only heard Oliver call you Mr. Huggins.”

“Yeah,” he said.

He looked a little uncomfortable, so you decided to stop giving him the third degree.

“Well, nice to meet you. My steering wheel is shaking. It sounds like a motorcycle in inside my car,” you said.

“Jesus,” he said. “Can I take it for a spin?”

You handed him the keys.

“Knock yourself out,” you said.

He got in your car, turning off the radio when the Cure started blaring from the speakers. You smiled. He drove it around the block, returning quickly.

“Jesus,” he said again when he got out.

“I know. Any ideas?”

“Not a clue,” he said honestly.

“Fuck,” you said.

“Lemme ask one of the guys. Dom!”

A man walked out of the workshop towards you.

“Black lipstick,” said the man — Dom. “Nice.”

He gave you a look that reminded you of Patrick. You made a note to stay away from this guy as often as you could.

“Keep it in your pants, Dom,” said Reggie. “Steering wheel’s shaking. Really bad, but worse over like, 20. Any ideas?”

Dom thought for a moment, raking his hands through his short, curly hair.

“Check the tires,” he said. “Might be missing a bolt.”

“’Kay.”

Dom walked away, and Reggie went around your car, crouching next to the tires, looking closely. At your front left tire, he made a small noise.

“Yeah,” he said. “You’re missing two bolts. Easy.”

“Cool,” you said. You held up your pack of cigarettes. “You mind?”

“Nah, go ahead.”

You lit up as he walked away. He came back when you were halfway done with your cigarette, holding two bolts in his big hand.

He screwed them on and stood, slapping the hood.

“There you are. ‘M gonna take it for another drive, see if that’s it. But it should be. Dom’s a creep, but he knows his shit.”

“Okay,” you said, ashing your cigarette.

He took your car for another short drive, and came back, smiling.

You took a deep breath but kept holding his eye. God, what a great smile this guy had.

“That fixed it,” he said.

“Great,” you said. “What’ll it cost me?”

“Eh. It was just a coupla bolts. This one’s free.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure. Consider it me saying sorry for Dom creepin’ on you.”

You smiled.

“Thanks, man,” you said.

“And here,” he said, pulling a card out of his pocket. He held it out for you.

You took it, reading the front. Flusche and Sons, it said. You turned it over. In a messy hand, there was a phone number.

“That’s my number,” he said. “Something happens again, you call me.”

“I’ll just come here,” you said.

“Well, then. If you can’t drive, call me.”

You let out a short laugh.

“Never had a guy try to pick me up so fast,” you joked.

His cheeks tinged red.

“That’s — that’s not —”

“Hey, I was joking,” you said kindly. “Sorry. I’ll see you ‘round.”

“’Kay.”

You drove home, grateful that things were okay again.

When you got home, neither of your parents were there, yet. To be expected, of course. The shop didn’t close for another couple hours, and they’d be home even later than that.

You called your mom. She picked up.

“Hey, starchild,” she said, pulling out her special nickname for you. She must be having a good day, then.

“Hey, Mom.”

“I saw you called. I’m sorry, I had someone right in front of me. What’s going on?”

“My car — something messed up. The steering wheel was shaking really bad. I took it to Flusche and Sons and they fixed me up.”

“That was fast! What’ll it cost us?”

“Nothing. The guy just put a couple of bolts on my wheels and let me go.”

“Ooh, he must have noticed how cute you are.”

“Mom. It totally wasn’t like that.”

“Then why can I hear you smiling, my sweet child?”

You laughed.

“Oh, ‘cause I am.”

“Was he cute?”

You thought about it. In a way, yeah. Reggie was cute.

“Sure,” you said. “I never noticed before, but yeah. Kinda cute. We go to school together.”

Then you grimaced.

“One of my teachers threatened to make me take out my snake bites today,” you said.

“Oh, honey. I’ll talk to the principal.”

“You don’t have to —” you started.

“Oh, but I will. Listen, someone just walked in. We’ll talk more when I get home, okay?”

“Okay, mom. I love you.”

“I love you too, starchild. ‘Bye, now.”

“Bye.”

You hung up and went upstairs to your room. You opened up your laptop, choosing to ignore your homework for a while. You got on Skype, finding that your best friend, Raven, was already online.

Hey, you typed

Hey yourself. How’s school?

Raven was homeschooled. Lucky bitch.

Sucks. Teacher got onto me for my snake bites.

Asshole

I know

Anything else?

Car fucked up. Had to take it to the shop

Fuck. Meet any cute mechanics? ;)

You laughed. Typical Raven. She saw the whole world as a playground, constantly looking for new toys.

Actually yeah. I guess. There’s this guy who works there I go to school with.

Oh yeah???

Yeah. Nice smile

Oooh nice!

You talked for another hour, unwinding. You blasted your latest playlist, relaxing until you were little more than a puddle on top of your bed.

You said goodbye to Raven when you heard your parents come in, and you went down to help them make dinner, talking about your collective day, how Mr. Oliver got onto you, what you could do about it.

When you went to bed, you laid there under your covers, thoughts wandering.

They kept coming back to Reggie. His smile, the crinkles next to his eyes.

You sighed.

You probably were going to have a crush on him.

That was okay, as long as it didn’t become anything else. You weren’t ready for another — something.

Your last something had just ended, and you weren’t ready for something new.

#belch huggins x reader #The Bowers Gang #it 2017 fic #it 2017 imagine #mine

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canaryatlaw · 6 years

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okay. well today was fine. better than yesterday I guess, some mental stress over....things starting to dissipate a bit thankfully. alarm went off at 7 and I got up, got ready and was out the door all on time. I get down to the courthouse at like 8:40, perfect timing to meet up for the 9:00 call. and like, actual lawyers have the IDs that let them go around security but I still have to go through security so I was like oh well I should just go through early then and meet them there. So I did, and then I went up to the 22nd floor to wait for the lawyer. this is guy lawyer I was at the deposition with last week, I like him, he’s fun, definitely a bit intense but not in a bad way. Anyway, I’m waiting on the 22nd floor and it’s like 9:10 when one of the other lawyers I was shadowing last week came by and she was like “....is he not here yet????” and I was like welp....nope haha and she was like “if he’s not here in 5 minutes text me” so I say okay because she’s kind of indirectly in charge of me (at this point kinda everyone is??) but like, I don’t wanna be a snitch, and I don’t want this guy to think I sold him out and got him in trouble, so I let 9:15 go and I was like come on dude come on, let me get credit for not snitching lol but it was going on 9:30 and the other lawyer had disappeared down a hallway that she would have to pass by me again to leave and I was concerned that she would walk out and see me sitting there without him and clearly not having texted her and being like “wtf” so by 9:30 I did text her, and I’m not sure what she did, but he finally showed up at like 10 am. and like, from one perspective that sounds really lazy and irresponsible, but I also know that like, my dad does that shit all the time lol because he can, the judges will wait for him to get there because he has a great relationship with pretty much all of them, so I can’t really judge too harshly. We had a lot of cases up though, so we were running back and forth between courtrooms and drafting orders and getting them approved then running to another courtroom and on and on. the end got a bit interesting when we walked in on a case where the judge was asking this plaintiff like “are you represented by (our law firm)?” and she was like yes and the judge was like, PISSED about us apparently missing the call, so we go outside with this person and tried to figure out what was going on while still juggling like three other cases going on in that courtroom, but what we more or less found was that we have no record of this person ever being a client and it seemed like they were a bit mentally.....off. and basically she had stepped up on a case that wasn’t hers accidentally that was a case we were on but not with her. so that was an odd little mix up but we figured it out. Walked back to the office, and once I got there I spent a while locating some files I was asked to scan in for someone which was confusing because they were described as “Davidson, etc” and I shit you not, there were two different stacks of 3 or 4 folders that both had two entirely separate cases with “Davidson” in the name, so I had to do a bit of figuring out to see what was right there. I also ended up calling the help line for this weird oil spill project I got placed on, and I got like accidentally bumped to a survey before actually talking to somebody like twice and each time I had to call they had an exceedingly long message to even get to talk to someone, so I was getting annoyed, and we only have the conference call style phone since it’s a conference room, so like everybody is subjected to hearing the conversation. But I finally got through to them and then had to go find the letters that had been sent and read them off to them and then basically got told they were ineligible for more money but since we were lawyers we probably wanted to appeal that (I don’t actually think we are going to though) then when I got off the phone and emailed the guy who put me on this assignment he was like “okay but what about the business we represent that didn’t get a letter” and I had to be like “without a letter they wouldn’t tell me jack shit” (I didn’t say jack shit obviously) so I’m not sure how that’s going to pan out, but we’ll see. I was supposed to sit in on a deposition at 1 but it ended up getting cancelled, so at 1 I decided to walk over to the whole foods a few blocks away, and while walking there I was totally engrossed in my phone doing some stuff for the DCTV podcast website that I straight up walked right past it, and was like wow I’m literally being such a millennial hipster stereotype right now lol. But I got there, and outside there was a man (I don’t like categorizing people by they status that they might be homeless, but he was panhandling) and he was asking for money, but of course I don’t have any because my wallet just got stolen, but I told him I was gonna go inside and eat and I would bring him out something if he wanted, so he said yes and asked for anything barbecue, so I agreed and went inside. Did my salad first and ate that, then went back to the hot food display and got some of what looked to be the closest to barbecue, something salisbury like, but upon further reflection I think it might’ve been like, salisbury tofu?? so I hope that still tasted okay and edible and I didn’t just waste $14 on a thing full of tofu that tasted like trash. so lesson there to be more aware of these things I suppose lol. I went back to the office and pretty much had something stopping me from doing any of the things I was assigned to, mostly like I hadn’t heard back from the person I was doing it for and couldn’t move on until I heard from them. So I tried to look up the info about the health insurance regarding if they had any of my doctors in their network plan, but it refused to load on me so I got stuck doing nothing for a while. After a bit I got called downstairs to go over making the court schedule because that’s gonna be my responsibility from now on, so I went over it with the lawyer who had been doing it and typed it up, so that’s good to know. I didn’t really do all that much for the rest of the day because I just didn’t really have anything to do. There was a bit of a celebration because one of the lawyers had just tried a parking lot slip and fall case that was apparently kinda iffy on causation (like it wasn’t totally clear that it was actually the business’ fault) and because of that the insurance company wouldn’t even make an offer to settle because (presumably) they thought it was crap, but this afternoon the jury returned a verdict for our client to the tune of $212K, which for a slip and fall case is a HELL of a lot of money, so everyone was very excited about that. Towards the end of the day one of the other new lawyers and I sorted through the folders (such exciting lawyer projects, I know) to separate them into piles for the lawyers morning court call. After that I headed home, normal trip back, I’ve kind of developed this habit of flopping down on my bed for a while after getting home from work and of course kitty wants all the love and attention after being alone all day, so she’s always climbing all over me. So I stayed like that for a bit before getting up and making some food, and then turning on an episode of Friday Night Lights. After I had watched that I decided I was going to take on one of the recipes I had been wanting to make and had had up in my browser for a few days, these were titled “fluffy golden oreo funfetti rice krispie treats” and are basically like, pure happiness in food form lol. of course I’m super obnoxious about how I make my rice krispie treats because I have Standards™ so I had to like, cut some of the jumbo marshmallows I had into quarters so they'd melt more evenly with the mini marshmallows, and then of course had them melt super slowly so the texture would be good. so yeah, that was a bit of a process, but I think it came out pretty well. by the time I finished with this it was like 9:24 pm and I didn’t want to watch a full episode of something before going to bed so I ended up watching like half an episode of a series of unfortunate events, which I think was the last episode of their current season. And after that I started getting ready for bed and am now here. And that was pretty much my day. It’s later than the other nights I’ve been getting to sleep this week so I’m not gonna delay my sleep any further and end this post here. Goodnight babes. Stay classy.

#daily journal #September 2018 #Rachel's lawyer adventures

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lornahansonforbes · 3 years

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The late summer sun was slowly going down as we approached the corner of Melrose and North Robertson. Granted it was almost 8:00pm, but the sun was still blazing away as were the paparazzi and people milling about and waiting to go inside to have dinner meanwhile expecting a certain someone to make an appearance, but she slowed the car down for a millisecond and then kept going. I didn’t ask. She made a sharp left turn, an absolute fucking miracle, Sister Mary of The Perpetual Parking Spot must’ve been smiling down on us, she pulled up and backed in like a racer car driver. One, two, and the keys were being shoved into her vintage LV handbag.

“We’re here. Let’s go!,” she said cheerfully. Again I didn’t ask but the sign said, Ty’s Thai Tie Dye - An Indochina Conglomerate. I just looked at the sign again, “You’ll love it, trust me,” she said over the din of traffic.

We walked in and was greeted by a friendly hostess who appeared to be only like barely 5 feet tall.

“Two for dinner? You come now. Inside or outside table?” Our hostess grabbed two menus and shuttled us to an outside table without a confirmation. The slice of lemon meringue sky was wafting over us as we entered a small sort of possibly could have been an alleyway with beautiful plants everywhere and a trellis with Passion flowers just over head. My words can’t describe exactly how beautiful it was. The immense shades of green, the flowers and their beautiful aromas melded amazingly with the smells of garlic and cilantro emanating from a mysterious kitchen tucked away from the patrons.

Dressed in the classic little black dress and simple pumps, all Chanel, all understated and she was a vision. The extremely simple and understated gold jewelry brought it all together and yet oozed money from every pore with hair pulled loosely back in a black silk ribbon. She smirked gently as she began to seat herself and smoothed her dress down. I know I didn’t look out of place in “vintage” Black on Black Calvin Jeans. Yeah, I’ve had them for longer than I care to remember but dry cleaning is a good thing and my classic Brooks Brothers Oxford cream colored shirt. However my cordovan penny loafers had seen better days.

“You like something drink? Water? Flat? Fuzzy? Maybe soda? No? I bring you wine or something else?,” our hostess queried with a generous megawatt smile.

“Water, flat, slice of lemon and no ice for both of us. We’ll start with that,” she said looking at me with a twinkle in her sable eyes. Our hostess clicked her heels and walked away.

“The food here is incredible,” she said calmly.

I opened the menu and saw what made up of Indochina, plates by country. Mostly vegetarian but with plenty of dead animals for all the other food tourists and truly bougie wannabe We-Ho reject motherfuckers scratching their way to being not known for anything other than doing their worst James Dean high atop Griffith Observatory, but I did mention that they got chased out of the “nature’s reserve” by 5-0? Yes, those are grass stains on their jeans.

I pursued the menu as our hostess returned and glided the glasses of water and lemon on the table.

“You decided? What I bring you?”

I chose the vegetarian Pad Thai and some Vietnamese dish I couldn’t pronounce. We both also chose a lemongrass Larb with fried tofu salad. Our hostess disappeared into her Jasmine perfume and we lifted our glasses of water and clinked them together and quietly said, “Cheers, lovey.”

“I’m so delighted that we came here instead of trying to get in and see people fawn ever so patronizingly over her. It’s just the worst selfie moment you’ll ever see play out,” she said as she leaned back in her seat. I smirked at the image playing out like some silent movie with the Scott Joplin-esque ragtime jangling piano.

We had bits of conversation that really didn’t go anywhere other than “Well, did hear?” and “Some idiot who asserted that…” But nothing of substance and nothing really was said and the next thing I knew she pulled up in front of my flat.

“Darling, I’m sure we’ve had a wonderful evening but I feel bad that my husband is all over us these past few weeks. I’m just so sick and tired of seeing his gold Audi here and there every time we go out. Why can’t we agree to disagree with the fact that I’m who I am and you are you and we aren’t able to carry on like this anymore. I know I should break it to you gently but just rip the fucking Bandaid off, it’s over. Don’t speak. Let’s go our separate ways with our splendiferous memories and as the cliché states, when you do speak of me, be kind,” she blurted out without looking at me.

It took me a moment and then I crawled out the Jaguar Vandam Plas. I barely closed the passenger door and she glided away and I saw her turn right and disappear.

The full moon was reminiscent of Klieg lights at some old school Hollywood premiere and I saw the curtains move ever so slightly out of the corner of my eye. It was the Grand Dame, Marieke, my tuxedo cat meowing silently behind the window.

We locked eyes and she stood up, stretching her full length and her white underbelly up against the window pane. I fumbled for my house keys, still near comatose, I took those first tentative steps towards my house and then I got in my car. I pounded the steering wheel with tears in my eyes. “You ungrateful little bitch,” I screamed so loudly I felt my ears ringing worse than tinnitus at Rush concert.

The night was gorgeous as I drove cursing her very name. I couldn’t believe that not that long ago our tongues were lashing about like in a porn as we tore our clothes off, she’s moist, my turgidity…and fade to black.

Here I was on Pfeiffer Beach, Big Sur, hours away from the cesspool that is Los Angeles. I heard voices in the distance. I turned to see anything about but it wasn’t the ghosts of Burton and Taylor.

I don’t remember much after that but now the sun was rising over this beach was a backdrop for “The Sandpiper.”

The sounds of the waves were crashing just over there, the wind was gently nudging me as it was cold it was reassuring to me. Nothing left. My clothes were rumpled beyond and the sand in my toes. My ass was damp. No sugar free Chai latte beckoning me into a new day. Stumbling around I made it back to car only to see CHP stopped by and that bright orange ticket was neatly tucked under the windshield wipers. Fuck.

The radio blared as I turned the key, a voice said, “Now, I’m strong enough. Now, I’m strong enough to accept change. Yes my darling, if you want to live in another place, I can understand it. It’s gonna hurt for a little while, but I can understand it, but before you walk out that door, touch me in the morning.”

It was that classic 120 beats per minute but this voice and her rendition of the Diana Ross anthem, her anger and hurt were front and center. Just like me, we were both in a world of hurt at that time but she wasn’t feeling it and neither was I. She and I we’re pissed. Okay a little poetic license here and there but fuck you. I was transfixed on that song and she like I wanted to be Kathy Bates swinging that sledgehammer but we were going to leave that thing, that thing, right there to suffer and none of that dirty little bird bullshit either. I was going to be Mike Tyson if Bette Davis pops up screaming something about having a dirty little affair with a married woman. Hold up for one second, bitch! I’ll piss on your grave long before I say Kaddish.

I picked up phone, tapped Shazam, Marlena Shaw. Thanks, Miss Shaw. Touch me in the morning and you’ll lose that entire arm. Trust. I then tapped my phone one more time and my playlist abruptly cut in.

I merged into traffic on Route 1 South heading back home leaving Pfeiffer Beach in the rear view mirror. I’m a man on mission. Happy endings? Not on my dime. Better beginnings is more like it and I’ll take back me. I will not yield. The Grand Dame awaits and she will always love me for all my mistakes, my foibles, my insecurities and I have everything I need for the time being, my 15 year old cat, Marieke, and I couldn’t be happier even after the hurt.

#i-wrotethisforme #thewritershandbook #wnq writers #vomitingwords #love

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smashbuddies · 6 years

Text

Heart Exchange

It was time to do something. For months now Snail had been hanging around, almost torturing him with this game of “try to guess what we are”, and it infuriated him. So he had to make the move. He had to push for more than this friends with benefits situation.

His reflection looked terrified for a moment. But he took a deep breath, and straightened out his tie. He’d been through this before. The worst case scenario couldn’t be too bad when you’re already numb to it, right? And he was numb. Of course he was. Why wouldn’t he be? It would be fine.

The doorbell rang, and he rushed down the stairs to go answer it. As expected, Snail stood there, dressed how they usually were even though he asked them to dress up a little. Actually no, they had a little clip-on bowtie on their shirt.

“Cute,” he muttered, already tired. But of course, he really didn’t expect much else. “It wouldn’t kill you to look nice every once in a while.”

“You don’t know that,” they countered with a grin. Then their eyes moved past him, and a frown took over. “Uh, why’s your house lit like a horror movie?”

“God, it’s mood lighting, you prick,” he hissed as he stepped aside to let them in. “I made dinner for us. Daniyal isn’t home, so I thought I’d do something a little special. But I guess you wouldn’t know romance if it dropped right on your thick skull like a brick.”

They had brushed past him, but they froze in place. “Romance…?”

Fuck.

“C’mon,” he rushed out and grabbed their hand to drag them along. “I don’t want the food getting cold.”

He sat down in his place, ready to dig into the soup he had made for himself. Though he carefully watched as Snail slowly sat down, eyes locked onto their own plate like they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

“You made me a burger,” they said, one eyebrow raised up at him. “What is this, turkey, or tofu, or some shit?”

“Pure beef,” he answered honestly. “You can check the fridge, I still have some leftover.”

A single fry was held up gently between their fingers. “And you actually fried these?”

“Happened to buy a little fryer a week ago,” he replied, eyes now firmly on his own food. “Figured I’d make some use out of it.”

The silence spoke for them. Bullshit.

“Anyway,” he said before they could call him out, “give it a try. I did my best, so you better like it.”

That wasn’t at all what he wanted to say. Damn his stupid fucking mouth, why couldn’t it just work for him for once? Oh well, no use in dwelling on it.

He risked a glance over at them, and wasn’t surprised that they had already taken a huge bite out of it. Carefully, he watched their face. Doubt. Confusion. Realization…

And pure delight. They instantly lit up in a way he’d only seen when he bought them some garbage fast food they really liked. And, well, he would’ve taken that as an insult if they weren’t so damn happy.

“This is really fucking good,” they praised with their mouth half full, already going in for a second bite.

Oh. His heart skipped a beat, and he had to put a hand to his chest to keep it from leaping out. Something about them changed in that moment. He didn’t quite know what, but he wanted to see more of it. He wanted to cook for them more and make all the foods they liked. Just to see that look on their face again.

“Uh, can I help you?”

“I- what?” Daniel instantly tensed up, straightening his back out even though he didn’t even quite realize he had relaxed so much. “No?”

“Well, you were staring at me,” they teased with The Grin on their smug face. “Guess you just can’t get enough, huh?”

“No,” he softly said before his brain could effectively keep his mouth closed. “I can’t.”

That shut them up. It was almost funny how their eyes grew wide, disbelieving. It was almost funny, and… A little sad?

No matter. Dinner passed by in a comfortable flash after that, with just small chatter about both their respective days. Which was mostly the two of them griping about the idiots they both had to deal with at work.

“There’s no fucking way someone can be that stupid,” Daniel said incredulously. “You can’t ask for something then say that’s not what you wanted! Who the fuck does that?”

“Too many fucking people!” Snail huffed and popped their last fry into their mouth. “It’s such bullshit. I hate clients.”

Daniel then realized that the two of them had been engrossed in conversation a little too long. With a curse, he shot out of his seat and grabbed Snail’s hand so he could drag them off to the living room. After he gestured for them to sit down- which they did with a look that screamed I think you’ve gone crazy, but whatever- he grabbed the remote, and sure enough…

“Fuck, it’s over!”

Credits rolled across the screen. He huffed and plopped down next to Snail. If he could make the TV explode with just his glare, it most certainly would’ve happened right then.

Snail leaned forward. “Don’t you hate this show?”

“Yeah, but you like it,” he muttered, putting his head in his hands. It felt like his whole plan was falling apart, even though, reasonably, he knew it wasn’t a big deal. “And this whole night is about you.”

“...It is?”

He sighed and dropped his hands into his lap. This was too soon. He wasn’t ready, but what else could he do?

“Yeah, it is. I wanted this to be a great night for you. Food you like, your favorite show, a good fuck. And then… I’d give you something important.”

Snail tried finding looking at him for answer, eyebrows furrowed together. It was like they almost knew what was going to happen. But they couldn’t, right? That would be the last thing on their mind, he knew that.

But still, he took a deep breath. His heart raced. Then slowly, almost hesitantly, he let it free, shaping it into the world. It hurt, just from how many times he’d done this already. His own hands felt too hot, too rough against it. Each dark, ugly scar ached and stung with just the tiniest brush against them. He sure was numb to this, huh?

He turned to Snail, eyes locked onto his heart, and presented it to them. “I’m not perfect. Far from it... But I want to be yours.”

A long moment passed. Then a cool touch settled around his heart, gently pulling it from the terrible safety of his hold. He dared to look up at them, and almost broke at the look on their face.

“I…” They took in a shaky breath, thumbs sweeping across his heart. “Daniel, fuck.”

“You don’t have to accept it,” he assured them, hands now in his lap. “I can live with another scar. It’s really not a big deal.”

That only made the look on their face more pitying. Up until that moment, they had carefully maneuvered around every scar- both the huge gashes and the hairline knicks. But then they gently cradled his heart in one hand, and delicately put a finger to one of the dark lines curving along the edge. Not big or small, but somewhere in the middle. Their eyes were curious.

A shiver ran through him. And with no other choice, he let out a sigh. “Slept with a close friend in college. We were… Looking for very different things.”

Snail let out a soft “oh”. Then they looped their arm around him and pulled him flush against their side, then their hand went right back into position, tracing along and soothing every little line it came across. He practically melted against them, and softly explained each scar. A girl he had gone on a couple dates with that wasn’t too interested, a month-long relationship that ended- albeit on more friendly terms. With each scar Snail touched, they unlocked another story about an idiot who fell far too easily for his own good.

After god only knew how long of talking, they settled on the last scar. The darkest mark on him. It stretched across from top to bottom like a bolt of lightning, jagged lines branching off to fill more space. Even with their careful touch, that one stung just a bit.

“I…” It had been years, why was he choking up? “Fuck, I don’t think I can…”

“You don’t have to,” they said in the most understanding tone he’d ever heard from them. “But if you want to… I think… Fuck, I don’t know.”

A long pause of silence passed. His mouth lost function in that time, but his thoughts raced by a mile a minute. If they stuck around this long, then this wouldn’t drive them away, right?

“I fell in love with the person who helped start my show,” he finally said. The memories almost flashed before his eyes, like an old home movie. Memories he tried locking away. “While I was an intern, they found my ideas and… Gave me my big break. And they were just so kind, so generous, I couldn’t help it. So I gave them my heart, obviously.”

“They sure didn’t treat it well,” Snail muttered bitterly as they ran their finger a long one of the scar’s branches.

“They tried their best,” he insisted, because of course they did. Why wouldn’t they? It was his heart. “But they wouldn’t give me theirs in return. They wanted me to focus on my career first.”

Snail grew a little stiff.

“Anyway, after the show started airing, I… Got a little full of myself. I wanted to fight the decisions they made, the ones I didn’t like. Overblown guests, topics I didn’t care about, segments that just drove me crazy. And they… Didn’t like it.”

A thrum of fear surged through his heart, which Snail no doubt noticed. They held it close to his chest, as if trying to comfort it. “What did they do to you?”

“Nothing,” he answered, but his heart gave away his doubt. “They got pissed, of course. And they yelled, tried to make me see reason. And afterwards, well… I had made them so angry, they slipped up. Accidents happen, I get that.”

The arm around him tightened.

“After a couple years, I made them so angry that they gave my heart back and left,” he finally finished in a rush. “So, there. That’s it, you know my story.”

“...You don’t get a scar like that from accidents.”

That… Was not what he wanted to hear.

“What the fuck do you know!?” he snapped pulling away from them. “They didn’t do anything on purpose, if that’s what you’re trying to say. They cared about me, more than you fucking do! God, just give me my fucking heart back if you’re gonna be like this!”

Despite his anger, his heart only grew more fearful, as if it didn’t want to go back to him. And maybe it didn’t. Maybe he wanted them to keep it, but… Fuck, how could they even think that?

Snail glared at him, hands tightening around his heart. Then they set it on their lap, and took a deep breath, hands cupped in front of them. Slowly, a purple heart filled in.

A purple, scarred heart. Almost exactly like his.

“My last relationship before you was the worst thing to ever happen to me,” they said, voice low. “Mike was an asshole. He took my heart and didn’t give me his. And when he couldn’t control my body, he…”

Daniel grew cold. No, that couldn’t be right. But the scars, that broken look on their face. He didn’t want to believe that anyone could hurt Snail like that, but… Everything said otherwise. So he reached out, hands together, silently beckoning for Snail’s heart. As soon as it was dropped into his hands, he pulled it close, hands as gentle as they could be.

“You were abused,” he said under his breath.

“Yeah,” they sighed out, with his heart back in their hands. “I sure fuckin’ was.”

He pulled Snail’s heart away form himself just to get a closer look. The dark purple lines looked like they were begging for comfort, for someone to just reassure them that everything would be okay. And he could feel Snail’s eyes on him, as if they were ready to snatch it back if he made the wrong move. But could he blame them?

A light touch. Just to test the waters. Snail gasped and had the most visceral reaction he’d ever seen. He quickly pulled his hand away and asked, “Fuck, sorry, did that hurt?”

“No,” they answered, voice strained. “Shit, I just… I’m not used to it feeling like that. It’s… Nice? Fuck, I don’t know.”

His finger went back to the scar, feather-light. It had been an eternity since he held someone else’s heart, he almost forgot what it was like. Soft and warm, but almost as if nothing was there. Hearts were odd. On another plane of existence. But he didn’t care about that philosophical bullshit.

A touch on his own heart surprised him, making a shiver run down his spine. But he kept up his soothing ministrations. After a moment, he even lifted it up closer to his mouth, so he could sing softly to it. A little love song he heard in passing a couple days ago. It had gotten stuck in his head and now he just had to get it out. Their heart thrummed quietly in his hands, making him almost grin.

“The hell are you doing?” Snail asked, giving him a side-eye.

“Some hearts like it when you sing to them.” He pressed a light kiss to it for good measure, then smiled to himself. “Guess yours is one.”

That incredulous look on their face softened. Then, unfortunately, his eyes were drawn to his heart. The scars stood out to him even more now. You don’t get a scar like that from accidents. But they had to be wrong about that.

He looked back to their heart. And it hit him that they couldn’t be. They’d know. Without a shadow of a doubt, they’d know about scars like that. About abuse. What it’s like to be used and manipulated, living in fear of the person you love. And apparently, now he knew too.

“Daniel… Are you crying?”

Well, shit. He sure was. He wiped away the tears with the back of his sleeve, then let out a deep sigh. “I won’t hurt you like he did. Fucking hell, I’m going to keep your heart as safe as I can, Snail.” His finger trailed along one one the unmarked patches of their heart. “I promise. I don’t want to be another scar for you. Just… Please, don’t be one for me too?”

The way his own voice cracked made him wince. But Snail pulled him onto their lap, so they could hold him close. He could feel the firm grip they had on his heart. Like a promise.

“I won’t.”

#snailbitch #heart au #heart exchange #fic #mod cantolope

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