#also do you think he blames himself for his broken hand......
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one summer day
19 promise. where a new promise is forged in place of broken ones.
<< 18 hiraeth. | >> 20 (coming soon)
pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader word count: 3.1k warnings: angst, what's new :)
there is an indescribable feeling welling within your chest, a sensation that prickles at the edges of your frozen heart, as if it had weathered a long winter, as if spring has finally arrived, the sun smiling warmly upon you and welcoming you into its comforting embrace.
a mixture of nostalgia, melancholy and regret that seems to have seeped into your bones, unable to shake it off.
semi and his now fiancée are making their way through the crowd of friends and family who have gathered tonight to celebrate their engagement, and you feel immensely… happy for them.
they are good for each other, anyone who sees them knows it, with the way they complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses, facing the world together fearlessly with the other by their side.
though, the thought of that makes your eyes wander the crowd, searching for the warm chocolate eyes you still think of as home.
this might have been you—if you were not so quick to jump to conclusions, if he had trusted in you. maybe, maybe it would have broken you in the end, like he guessed. maybe he was right not to trust in you.
but the past remains there, in the past, and even now, you are not sure what would have been the right thing to do. it’s easy to recognize rights and wrongs in hindsight, but there was never a clear way forward, never a right way forward for a present that was not so broken and mended at the same time.
off balance.
like a violin that was tuned to an old orchestra’s lower frequency trying to fit in with the new one. even a single hertz of frequency makes all the difference, singling you out from the others because you are out of tune.
the more you get along with ushijima, the more this… feeling grows in your chest, this unshakeable nostalgia to return to what once was, to stay there and never grow up.
you had forgiven him, and he had forgiven you, both of you having made mistakes that led to where things are now. semi and tendo were the more excitable pair between you about this development, as though they are dead set on the two of you getting together.
but it is all too late, too much history, too much hurt between you to go back to what once was.
you could never go back.
the understanding should not pain you as much as it does now, as if a claw is gouged into your chest and dragged down and down.
it should not hurt so much when he smiles at you across the room, and you feel the warmth radiating from him even with the distance, reading the touch of melancholy from the way he carries himself, the lines in his face, the eyes that you fell in love with.
enough time has passed for you to move on, so why does he still make your heart race like a teenage girl? how can you still be in love with him when neither of you are the same people you used to be?
he is not the same boy you loved in high school. still quiet and stern, sure, but he is also more open with those close to him, like tendo and semi. more relaxed and more communicative with the people he cared about, more willing to share about himself than he used to.
as if he had taken his mistakes with you as a lesson to learn from.
you don’t know how to feel about that realization.
on the other hand, you are not sure if you have grown as a person as much as he has. you were still quick tempered, jumping to conclusions like your life depended on it.
and if you were being frank, you could be blamed for most of this mess, from being stubborn enough to cut him off for years.
and still he waited.
“hey,” he sidles up to your side, cocking his head as you turn away from him, blinking rapidly, wishing the sudden welled up tears away, scratching your eyebrow and swiping at your eyes discreetly, you hope.
“hey yourself.” you smile back at him, hoping he does not see through your shit act immediately. you know he does though, because your cheeks are hot and red from the sudden rush of regret.
“it feels unreal that semi is engaged, doesn’t it? he always seemed like he would be the last one to settle down among us.” he remarks.
and we thought we would have been among the first. how the tables have turned.
you chuckle in response, focusing on anything but the heat radiating from his arm to yours as you stand side by side against the far wall away from most guests. like two wallflowers avoiding the party.
you guess some things never change.
“i think the universe had a different plan in mind for all of us.” one we never saw coming.
”perhaps. but we are the ones who dictate our future, aren’t we?” his eyes are on you keenly, and you choose to ignore it.
“maybe some things are written in the stars, long before you and i were brought into it.” it is no longer about semi, but about you, about this half wilted, half revived twisted thing between you.
”we have a say in it, in our choices. you don’t think so?” you think you hear a hint of desperation in his voice, for you to give in—say it’s not too late, you could go back to what you were before. but it’s too fucking late.
you thought he knew this, so why is he being insistent, even all this time?
all this time you had been gifted with, a mere three weeks in your homeland, busy with the orchestral competition and then the showcase performances afterwards, squeezing in what time you could with your friends, including him.
every conversation you shared with him after that first one in years had been friendly, inquiring, mindful. the mutual understanding you thought you also shared showing in his eyes, tinged with sadness and regret, reflected in yours.
”you know we can’t go back, toshi.” you curl your free hand into a fist to hide the trembling in your fingers.
“then look forward to the future. if it hurts, don’t look back, let it stay where it belongs.” he circles your wrist, gently and firmly, stilling your shaking. he knew, he always knows.
he knows you too well, that you are choosing to stay in the known where it is safe, afraid to risk your heart, to trust once more. he is right, you would rather it stay broken than be disappointed again.
if you dared, you could tune your violin to the higher frequency, risk the worn strings snapping as you turn the peg tighter. you could always just replace it with a new string.
though unlike violin strings, you only have one heart, worn and tired. you are not sure how much more it could take before the point of no return, and there is no replacing it.
but it does not have any sense of self preservation when it comes to wakatoshi, yearning for you to say yes, yearning to be home again. you don’t blame it, your rationality seems to go out the window on matters concerning him.
“why? why did you wait? i left you high and dry for years, and then i come back with little to no warning, and you are being nice to me.” you face him, wringing your hands, breathing heavily, stuck with the countless thoughts flying through your head, each and every last of them devastating. “why?”
“because you are the only one for me. you always have been.” he tugs your hands apart, holding each hand gently, rubbing circles on the back of your palms.
“i am nothing short of irrational and horrible.” you whisper, feeling particularly awful about your past decisions, your stubbornness that stopped you from hearing him or even semi out.
“sure, but i fucked up first.” gods, why is he so good? it would be so much easier if he isn’t. “you are blaming yourself for something i had a part in. that’s not quite fair, is it?”
he tugs at your fingers for you to look at him again. “i tried to respect your wishes, really. i thought maybe you don’t feel the same way anymore, and the first few times i saw the look in your eyes, i thought i was going mad from desperation, that i was imagining it.” wakatoshi tightens his hold on you ever so slightly at his memory, but continues, “you still have that look in your eyes, the same one i do when i look at you, and it didn’t make sense to me why this should be our ending.”
“there’s too much between us, toshi.” the sounds fall from your mouth like a plea for him to let go, to move on, to stop looking back.
“two people who still love each other belong together, don’t they?” his words make you curl your fingers around his thick digits, a sharp feeling brewing in your belly.
anger, you recognize. it is anger that strikes you, taking hold of you as your lips curl and you scowl at the man before you. “you are being unreasonable. how could you just pretend like everything never happened? that it did not hurt for months, years? and to make things worse, i went years not speaking to you out of sheer hurt and stubbornness, only to find out that i was wrong. i should have given you a chance to explain– hear your side of the story out, something.”
you lick your lips, trying to gather your thoughts, communicate them coherently. “but i didn’t. and you’re acting like it didn’t hurt you. like i didn’t hurt you. for years. you say you feel the same, and yet you look unfazed by my actions that should have carved your heart out of your chest. you are acting like my mistakes are so easily forgiven, like it was nothing, but you are pretending. i know it hurts.”
your neatly trimmed nails are pressing crescents into his palm even as your shoulders shake, feeling the absolute guilt heavy and crushing. because you don’t deserve him. he should be glad that he is free of you, not trying to get you to change your mind.
“that day i saw you at the apartment. you were speaking to me as if nothing happened, trying to talk to me the way you used to. but you should have yelled at me for being stupid. threw me out on the streets. slammed the door in my face and never looked back. you should never have let me back into your life. i fucked everything up so badly and you are standing here trying to convince me to give us a second chance. do you hear yourself? are you insane?”
this is pathetic, you think. you are shaking, salty tears flowing freely down your cheeks, and sometime during your little confession of truth he had guided you to an empty corner of the room for more privacy. or to keep people from seeing you fall apart.
but he is gaping at you, as if you just told him something he didn’t know, and you look away, ashamed of yourself.
“no, no, look at me,” his fingers chase after your turned face, fitting in the curve of your jawbone as he firmly tilts your head to look at him. try to resist as you may, you end up giving in to him, as you always does. “that is what you are torn apart over? that you might have hurt me with your actions? not that i kept my arranged marriage a secret from you?”
his eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, leaving you frustrated “but i did hurt you from my actions, didn’t i? unless you don’t love me. which i am assuming is not the case since you are trying to convince me to give us a chance. of course i was hurt you kept that a secret from me. what was i supposed to think when i heard about it from your mother and not you? but it pales in comparison to my– how unreasonable i was, dragging this easily solved issue over years. how could you say that?”
“and your reaction was perfectly reasonable, why can’t you see that?”
“why can’t you let me go?”
wakatoshi almost drops his hand from your words, feeling them pierce the thick layers he kept over his own heart to shield its injuries from the world. he feels the nonchalant charade he kept up crack and slip, no longer able to ignore the hurt that coursing through his veins.
“because now you’re being stupid. are you actually saying that you won’t give us a chance because you hurt me after being hurt by me and you think that the hurt you caused me is worse than the hurt i caused you? why do you feel the need to atone for your mistakes by denying yourself a shot at happiness?”
“because you have not given yourself a chance to live in a world without me.” gods—
“i don’t follow.” he says flatly, hands dropping to his sides, visibly deflated at your repeated attempts to move on.
“you still live in our apartment. you never let me go, never allowed yourself to experience a world without me in it,” you swallow, though the lump in your throat remains at the thought of what you are about to do—what you are about to ask of him. you so desperately want to keep silent, want to jump into his arms, but you would also never forgive yourself if you kept him from a better life. “i want you to go and live in that world, let yourself experience the happiness and joy i once brought you with someone else. someone with whom you don’t share a tainted past with. i want you to give this chance to someone else.”
“what about what i want? have you thought about that? of the possibility that i only want you, not anyone else, even if they are perfect.”
“how do you know that? you haven’t given anyone else a chance!” you surmised as much from your observations, a conclusion that you arrived at after learning that he is still living at your shared apartment, which tendo confirmed.
“because i don’t need to! gods, you are killing me.” he exclaims as loud as he could without drawing anyone’s attention, staring at you intensely.
“i know.”
he lets out a heavy exhale, rubbing his hand over his face. “so what then?”
“go live a life without me. date someone. move out of that apartment, for the love of god.” fall in love with someone good for you, like semi did. not me.
“and then what?” he quirks an eyebrow at you.
“and then what?” you repeat his words back to him in disbelief.
“what if i still want us?” his stare pierces through your defense, forcing you to take a step back before you could pull him in.
a brittle, fragile bridge of trust stretches between you, and you are sure that it is bound to break if either of you were to take a step towards the other.
“you haven’t even given it a shot yet.” you retort, hands crossed over your chest. this stubborn man…
“i already know so.” he states firmly, leaving no room for argument. it makes you want to strangle him and kiss him at the same time, if it were not for the plethora of reasons that would cause it all to fall apart stopping you from doing so.
“you are so fucking stubborn.” you grit your teeth. a pair of waving arms catches your attention, as the man himself makes his way to the two of you. you roll your eyes at the glint of interest appearing in his mischievous eyes.
“i could say the same about you.” he replies.
you look away, pointedly avoiding his gaze as your red-haired friend approaches. tendo would never let you live it down if he hears about this conversation.
“i suppose so.” you murmur before tendo pulls you towards the circle of people forming around the newly engaged couple who are starting their toast, leaving wakatoshi to follow.
their beautiful story brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. your lower lip is wobbling as you dab at the corner of your eyes with a napkin that tendo offered.
pure bliss radiates from the pair as they glance at each other lovingly, so much so that one could mistake them as newlyweds. it makes you falter in your decision, just enough that you allow yourself to think of a future where everything goes right.
enough that you slip out from the party as wakatoshi excuses himself for an early night.
enough that you call out after the man you who is both a stranger and your home.
“wakatoshi!” his name leaves your lips, carrying on a life of its own. it reminds you of the boy who took flight in the gymnasium one summer day. .
“vienna.” you repress the smile that threatens to break at the sight of surprise in his warm honeyed eyes, his half-turned body with his hand still on the door. “i will meet you in vienna in a year. i–if you still feel the same way. if i could leave the past behind us.”
“just tell me where and when.” there is a tremble in his voice laced with disbelief.
“that’s up to you to figure out.” find me, you seem to say, like this is a test of his belief and knowledge in you, and of fate.
“see you in a year then.” a muscle in his jaw twitches as his lips part, but he presses them shut with visible turmoil shortly after, as though he had more to say but decided against it.
you swallow with your fist grabbing onto the fabric of your shirt above where your heart lays, wishing it to calm, begging for hope to delay its flight.
there are many things that could go awry in this plan that hinges on him getting the time and place right, including the fact that it requires you to trust him again. because trust is the foundation of any relationship—without trust, there is nothing.
not to mention, it also depends on him not changing his mind.
it is tricky because he might just meet someone who changes his mind in between now and the next year. tricky because you might not be able to trust him again for the decision is the hardest first step. tricky because—
“time changes all.”
no one is impervious to the passage of time, not you, not even ushijima wakatoshi.
so why is hope still beating its wings with all its might in the confines of your ribcage?
a/n: i had a hard time figuring out how to phrase the promise, but had a breakthrough today and could not wait to post <333 enjoy y'all, lightly edited! only one more chapter to go, i am gonna cry thinking about osd ending :') (also spy the title reference in the chapter :3 i love y'all thank you for being on this wild ride with me tags: @lemurzsquad @daisy-room @integers @brokenbraveakira @whosmarjj @nansfyy @illuzminate @httpshoyo @manyuyuu @hatsukeii @bakery-anon @wrimaira
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#haikyuu#hq fluff#hq angst#haikyuu angst#haikyuu fluff#angst#fluff#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima x reader#ushijima x y/n#haikyuu x reader#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#wakatoshi x reader#ushijima#ushijima angst#ushijima fluff#haikyuu ushijima#ushijima wakatoshi fluff#hq wakatoshi#ushijima wakatoshi x you#ushijima wakatoshi haikyuu#haikyuu wakatoshi#ushijima x you#ushijima x reader fluff#ushijima x reader angst#haikyuu!!#hiraethwa writes#shiratorizawa#《 one summer day 》
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I’m a little more sympathetic for Rosy- she was under a lot of duress when she gave Cloudpaw up. It very much is akin to “teenage girl being forced by parents to give up her baby” to me. Honestly, what choice did she really (at least in her mind) have? Fireheart came and saw her a decent amount, if not exactly often. Cloudy can just do the same! But then he does, and she gets to experience, at least in some small way, being the mother she wanted to be… combine that with “this is the only child I can ever have a relationship with” and I completely get her reaction. No, she doesn’t get to swoop in after someone else has raised him and get him back no questions asked, but it wasn’t like she made the choice to give him away out any unwillingness to raise him. Her hand was completely forced and this was the best of worst options. Yeah, Fireheart was all like “oh it’s different in the Clans, there are rules, it’s not what you think…” but he was also perfectly fine going against those rules himself to see Rosy whenever, so really, that precedent was established well before it became an issue with Cloudpaw. Honestly part of me wonders if Fireheart had such a strong reaction because it was at least partially aimed at himself, because it was his example of “yeah the rules can be bent or broken for good reason” that influenced both Rosy and Cloudpaw to think they could do the same. Idk, terrible situation all around, but I think this is different than the family member that ditches their kid with another member out of prioritizing their own wants and only wanting the “fun” parts of parenting on a whim- it’s “I would do anything I possibly could to keep my child, but external forces are forcing me to give him up, so I will try to make the best of this terrible circumstance.” Rosy, in her limited worldview, was led to believe that sending Cloudpaw to the Clan would let him be with his family, something she always wanted for herself, and that she could get a piece of that dream when he came to visit with her brother, and maybe she could be content with that. Reality differed of course, because it was naive to think that that would actually be enough in the face of her desire for family, but I can’t really blame her for being hopeful and making decisions on that hope.
I appreciate this take! Sympathy for the Rosy, and all that. I personally feel bad for her, knowing as her writer where she's coming from. The girl definitely didn't know what she was getting into the moment she sent Cloudy away, and I don't think she does even now. Desperation makes us all fools, in the end.
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thinking about Kevin Day on this awful day
#specifically thinking about him having ocd#maybe not in canon but like just a thing to consider#idk something about jean saying all he's capable of is bottomless guilt made me go hmmmm interesting#also him having a borderline eating disorder and sticking religiously to his routines#maybe so he can feel any semblance of control in his life#him feeling simultaneously guilty for what happens to the foxes bc what if he did something wrong that day#what if he strayed from his routine a little too much and it caused all of this#but also him feeling panicked at the potentiality of not being able to play exy bc it's the only part of his life he *can* control fully#or he thinks he can anyways#idk if that's how ocd works tbh but I think it'd be interesting to write a kevin pov from that perspective#I'm kinda drawing from my experience having an ed and I used to get really angry and hostile when things got in the way of my routine#so kevin's bitchy behaviour makes sense in that context#other than being raised in a cult with a strict routine (and in part bc of it)#maybe he feels like if he doesn't stick to it then it will all go to shit#also do you think he blames himself for his broken hand......#this probably doesn't make sense#kevin day
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Tender Loving Care
pairing: Aemond x Reader
summary: after a training accident, Aemond's wife takes care of him. In more ways than one.
tags: heterosexual sex, cowgirl, massage, hand job, cum eating, cranky Aemond is a good boy for his wife, mentions of the other members of the Green but not present.
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Training accidents were as common as breathing if one wanted to master the sword.
If one wanted to hold a blade, then one must also be prepared to suffer its bite. Aemond was well aware of this. Even though it was just training, play fighting for the knights & instructors brought in from all over Westeros to teach the prince, he had been cut before. Nothing serious. Nothing like his eye. He wishes it had been. It would make this latest injury less wounding than the others.
A simple misstep, that was all. His own clumsiness was what put him in this bed. His leg wasn’t broken or maimed, but twisted in his fall, to the point that he could put no weight on it. Or at least that was what the maesters said.
2 weeks. That was the punishment for his own mistake. He was not to leave this bed save to relieve himself and the few moments a day he was granted to stand & test his legs progress. Each day was a new torment. Not for the pain, Aemond could handle that, but the failure of trying his leg and only have it betray him again & again. He wondered how his father did it all those years trapped in his bed. Aemond would have begged for death sooner.
“Husband,” the prince looked up from his window and thoughts of limping over to throw himself out of it, when his wife’s voice came into the room.
One of his few constant visitors during his confinement. Helaena came to visit him but was busy with her children. Aegon only came once, to taunt him about his trip more than anything before he left and a back handed ‘get better Aemond the Fierce!’. His mother came as well but flapped between concern and scolding for his ‘recklessness’. She was the only one who seemed genuinely concerned for him, though her concern was not needed. Aemond did not wish to feel more like an invalid than he already did. “What is it?”
“It is time to change the bandage on her leg.” To keep it straight. To keep him bound, he thought with a spat, although Aemond arched a brow at the comment.
“Where is the maester?” His wife was many things, but she was no practitioner of medicine nor magic.
She sighed. “Did you really expect them to come back willingly after last time?” Aemond pursed his lips.
Under the best of circumstances, Aemond was aware that he was not the most agreeable person in the realm. Could anyone really blame him? His existence had taught him over & over that it was better to lash out and cut first, lest you be the one who is sliced. Metaphorically, of course. He wasn’t a mad man like some of his ancestors. And attached to this bed the only weapon at his disposal was his words. He had cursed, jeered, and ranted, honestly uncharacteristic of himself, at the maester who had attended to his leg the day before and had the nerve to tell him his progress was splendid. If it was so splendid then why was he still in this bed? If he was such a great man of knowledge and skill, why hadn’t he healed him yet?! He should go back to whatever dung heap he crawled out of and beg alms for to the gods for wasting a fine Citadel education on an incompetent!!
The prince said a few more unkind things before he forbade any of them from touching him again. He did not think they would take him seriously.
“So, they sent you to do the work of a common barrio healer since they do not wish to do their jobs?”
“I think it was more that they thought you wouldn’t scratch at me. More fool they then, hn?”
Aemond sunk further into his pillows, sulking. He doesn’t mean to scratch at her. He doesn’t mean to scratch at any of them, honestly. He just wanted to get out of his bed and go on with his life. To have the world move on around him, to grow weak and irrelevant in this bed, was the real punishment. “I’m sorry.” He apologized. “…thank you…for helping me…”
“You’re welcome Aemond.”
How quick she was to accept his apology. How quick she was to help him, already coming to his side despite his scratching, when he needed her. No wonder he was always alone….
The prince did what he could for her as he raised his leg from the pillow propping it up and held it there while she unwrapped the old dressing. “Are you sure you know what you are doing?” It was not meant as a slight. Just a genuine curiosity on if she knew the proper way to wrap his injury.
His wife just chuckled. “Yes, Aemond. Despite not wanting to come in here on their own, the maesters did instruct me on how to do it properly.” Cowards, he thought. “There! All done.”
Aemond looked at his leg with his good eye and tried to flex at his foot. His nostrils flared at the persistent pain, but it was wrapped correctly. He was impressed. “Thank you.”
“Of course. I want you healed as soon as possible as well.” Her hand reached for his on the bed and clasped it. “In fact…I was told of another treatment….one that might help with the…circulation in your leg.”
“Oh?” Aemond was curious about that. Trapped in this bed, his legs were not getting the work out that they normally would. Training aside, the walk around the castle was enough exercise for most lords. He hadn’t been able to go more than a few steps for days. His legs teetered between weightlessness and the sharp pricks of falling asleep all the time. “Will it improve my condition?”
“It….could…” She seemed unconvinced. Avoiding, even. But perhaps that was because the last person who made remarks about the improvement of his condition was threatened to be fed to Vhagar. “Will you let me try it?”
What was there to lose, he thought, and Aemond nodded before he helped her take off his lower bed linens so both his legs were bare. A small vial appeared out from her pocket, and she poured some of its contents onto her hands before rubbing them together and placing them on his leg. “Just…try to relax for me.”
A hefty ask, but he does try. All he could do recently was ‘try to relax’. ‘Rest, my prince’, ‘you need time to heal’. It was all he had heard for the past days, to the point that any word close to ‘relax’ had almost the opposite effect on him. But for her, he does try. For her it worked a little. His shoulders finally untensing. Looking at her in the candlelight. Soft feelings swelling at the touch of her soft hands. “Does it feel good?”
“Yes.” He answered, almost without thinking. It did feel good. He didn’t realize how stiff his leg was until this moment.
Aemond let out a deep exhale. Not really a sigh, just the release of all the air in his lungs and tension built in his body. His eye closed as he laid back and let his wife work. They aren’t strong, but persistent. He continued to enjoy until he felt her hands shift up higher. Up his calf where his injury was to above his knee. “What are you doing?”
“What??” Her shocked face was particularly adorable in the soft light. Wide, wild eyes. Body frozen save for a soft tremble in her shoulders. “I..I’m rubbing your leg. I told you.”
“My injury is not there though.” He told her logically. Gaze still fixed on her for any kind of reveal.
“I…I know…” Her hands shift to seem to want to move away from him, but she willed them to stay still. “I just thought…maybe there was some other tension I could help you with….”
It was Aemond’s turn to be shocked, but he doesn’t show it on his face like she does. His wife was a lady. A demure, kind, noble one at that. Though she wasn’t nearly as boring & cow eyed as the other noble ladies on offer to him at the time of his betrothal, or so Aemond assumed as he didn’t pay much attention to any of them, boldness like this was not heard of in their marriage. She never denied him. Seemed fond of when they were together; or at least made all the right noises like she did. But it was always he who initiated such acts in their bedroom. To see her offer, and on offer, as he finally took in her appearance and the thin robe she had come to him in, Aemond would not deny that it was quite arousing.
Without another word, Aemond parted his legs further to give her room. If this was her intention, he would not deny her. There was a flush on her cheeks that bleed down her neck towards the V of her robe when he did this. Her resolve seeming to waiver, and disappointment started to drip into his chest at the prospect he may have ruined this too with his terrible attitude, but she continued.
The prince sighed. Gladdened to feel her hands on him again and closed his eye with a newfound desire for his treatment, now that he knew what was going on. “Higher.”
“Here?”
Her coquettish tone was a tonic to his ears. She was enjoying this. She was enjoying touching him and playing with him. His cock jumped as it filled fuller. More aroused by the fact that his wife truly did want him than her hands close, but not close enough, to his member. “Higher.”
“Here?”
Aemond opened his eye and genuinely growled at his wife. Though this game was amusing, enticing, it had been days since he’d found release. Being stuck in this bed did not really spur a person on towards desire. And though she laid with him at night like a good wife she had been spared from her ‘wifely duties’ for some time as Aemond was either still in too much pain from his leg, or unable to move it to perform the act, or in too bad of a mood to make the effort. Having her close. Feeling her touch. It was like the flood gates opened on a dam he had long since locked up and threw away the key on. “Please….”
His kind, noble, demure wife took pity on him, and also took his cock in her hand. Aemond’s head tilted back as he moaned. Her soft hands stroking his member from under his night shirt slowly, deliberately. She had touched him before, so she knew how he liked it, but honestly she could have touched him anyway she liked. Like a clumsy novice that first night they were together, and he still would have melted in her hands.
“Does it feel good?”
“Yes.” Again, without thought. But headier this time. More needy. He opened his eye to look upon his wife and found her staring at him. Those bright eyes darkened with desire. He’d never seen it before; mostly because when they were together her face was either buried in his chest, or shoulder, or in the pillows. Aemond bit his bottom lip hard. Trying not to cum at just the sight of her.
“It’s ok.” She told him in a whisper. Like it was a secret between the two of them. “You can let go husband. Will you let go for me?”
It was the softest command that Aemond had ever heard, and yet it forced him to obey more than any other. His back pressed further back into the pillows as his head tilted back again. His cock spasming in her hand as his seed leapt out from the tip. Covering her hand and perhaps getting some on her pretty robe by her knee. He would have to get her another one.
He opened his eye again after coming down from his high. Just in time to see her lick his seed off the palm of her hand. “What are you doing?”
“Well, the royal seed is sacred, is it not?” Her grin was soft, but mischievous. “We should not waste it.”
Aemond’s hand darted out to grab hold of her arm and drag her down to him in a deep, needy kiss. Apparently the flood gates he thought were released earlier were in truth just a leak in the levees. This was when the dam broke now. The need he had for her burning so hot that he could almost taste blood at the back of his tongue, his blood was boiling so hot.
He tried to spread his legs wider to make more room for his wife, but when he moved, he was reminded (painfully) of his injury. “Damnit!” The prince hissed against his wife’s lips. The throbbing in his leg almost in tandem with his cock.
“Sssh…it’s ok Aemond.” He wanted to bite at her soft words.
It was not ok! None of this was ok! He was injured, in pain, stuck in this bed, and now he couldn’t even fuck his wife! He felt useless. He felt angry. He felt humiliated not being able to do things as a man should, and he just wanted to get back to normal!
Before he could tell her any of this, however, his wife pulled back and removed her robe from her body. Mesmerizing in the fire light. No Valyrian alabaster, but still just as dazzling to Aemond. Shift discarded, his wife raised her hips and inched closer to hover them over his own. “The maester said not to move unless absolutely necessarily.” He wanted to argue that laying with his wife was absolutely necessarily, particularly in this moment, but all his words left him on a moan as she lowered herself onto him. “So you just stay there. L-Let me take care of you.” The little stammer in her voice as she started rolling her hips almost sent Aemond into a frenzy, but he endured.
He genuinely couldn’t move with her on top of him like this and his position on the bed. Though why would be want to? For the first time since his accident, Aemond was actually ecstatic to be stuck here in this bed. His wife lovingly impaling herself on his member. Riding him with skill just short of a dragon rider. If he had the wits still about him, he would have chuckled at his own joke. ‘Dragon rider’. As it was though he was stupid with lust. Dumb, witless, helpless at her mercy as she took from him everything and gave him back so much. He still had brains at least to return the favor.
His wife cried out when he reached up to cup her breast. The weight of them in his hands something he missed. Aemond does not get a lot of time to enjoy them, however, as his wife suddenly fell forward. Covering his body with her own. Hips still moving but at a much snappier pace with the depleted gap between them. He didn’t care though. His hands just repositioned themselves on her other mounds at her backside and pressed her to move faster.
“A-Aemond!” Her cries were his music. The tempo in which he set a new rhythm.
The wet sound of their sexes kissing along with their actual kissing fill the room, until it all stopped in one bright, shining moment of his wife shaking on top of him while her fists tried to fight his pillows and he spilled inside her this time.
He wished he could hold her like this for longer. Her weight a comfort, like a blanket, in his arms. But she rolled over onto his non-injured side to lay beside him. It was good enough. “Do you feel better now?”
Aemond looked down at her, having to turn his head completely as to not just look at her with the sapphire in his eye, realizing at last what this was about. Her idea of a good will effort. To lift his spirits and relieve his tension. Maybe keep him from trying to execute more of the maesters in the castle. “Yes. I’m feeling better.”
She smiled, then placed a soft kiss on his shoulder. “Good.”
The fingers from the hand around her own shoulders played with her hair as he stared at the ceiling. “Was this all just for me though?”
His wife looked at him with a perplexed look, but then realized what he was asking and blushed. She was smart enough to figure it out. “Not…all of it. I did want you to be in better spirits but…I have missed you.”
The corner of Aemond’s lips ticked up. Pleased, and pleased with himself. He did not think his sexual prowess was worth much compared to his prowess with a sword or strategy. But to hear that his wife wanted him, truly wanted him, was all the praise he would ever need. “So, you came up with this idea to satisfy both of us, ābrazyrys.”
“It wasn’t….all my idea…” Aemond arched a brow at his wife’s words. Curious now where she had got the idea from, as it had clearly come from somewhere. “Aegon commented on your bad mood and how someone should ‘cheer you up’. He gave me the idea, but the rest of it was all my doing.”
Aemond wasn’t sure which comment he was more shocked about. The fact that his brother knew how he was faring in his recovery, or the fact that he made lewd comments to his wife. He was battering between feelings of an odd sense of touched and white hot furry, but he decided to just let it go for now and enjoy his wife. “Well, thank you, regardless. In future I will try not to scratch at you while I am still confined to this bed. Lest you ask.”
She giggled when he kissed the top of her forehead. “And the maesters?”
“They are on their own.” Idiots. “I make no promises on their safety, but I will…endeavor to be of better character in the future.” At least not threaten to feed them to Vhagar. That seemed a reasonable adjustment.
#;pen & paper (fanfiction)#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#book!aemond#prince aemond#house of the dragon#hotd#aemond x reader#house targaryen#hotd imagine#hotd fanfiction#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon imagine#game of thrones#game of thrones scenarios#got imagine#got scenarios#imagine#scenarios#hotd smut#house of the dragon smut#female reader
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"What is That?" | SKZ | [B.C.]
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Notes: Based off of the selfies Chris has sent on bubble in the last few days after their Tokyo concerts - and how he said he acquired the Wolfchan hat. ;]
Warnings: None Genre: Fluff Pairing: Bangchan x Reader Word Count: 900
"...Christopher." The speed at which your boyfriend whips around to face you seems like it should've given the poor man a broken neck. With his cheeks full of sandwich and the food itself tucked into his hands near his chest, dark eyes stare in circular saucers at where you stand in the living room. "What is that?"
"Babe!" He peeps, the word muffled with his mouthful of ham and cheese. "I thought you went out with a few friends for lunch, so I made myself a sandwich." Chris' eyes fall to his hands before he decides to carefully set the food on a small plate lingering on the island.
Your brow cocks in interest. "I wasn't talking about the sandwich."
Wide eyes blinking in confusion, the two of you hold eye contact for a good few moments before his head tips curiously as if asking what you were referring to. Your hand lifts to your temple, the tip of your index finger slowly tapping along your hair. As he swallows down his food, Chris lifts a hand to mimic the action but pauses when he feels something soft that definitely is not his hair.
He realizes then that you were talking about the hat currently tucking down his curls; Grey, fluffy - Wolfchan ears.
"Oh!"
A smile blossoms over your lips. Your arms cross over your chest as if waiting for an answer and your boyfriend doesn't hesitate in beginning to explain. "It's a hat I wore at the concert in Tokyo last weekend when we did our outfits SKZoo themed! Do you like it? Isn't it cute?~"
And you giggle, carefully shaking your head at just how adorable your boyfriend can be. Hard to believe he's the one taking his shirt off at every concert he performs in. "Very. But aren't those wardrobes for concerts only? How'd you get them to let you have it?"
The silence that follows - along with the way Chris' eyes slowly widen one more time - seems to give you the answer you were asking for.
"...Christopher."
Lips rolling in and pursing shortly after, he slumps forward a bit. "I stole it."
"That's what I thought." You chuckle, turning your back to him to continue folding the laundry you'd just taken from the dryer - You know, what you were doing before he decided to make his presence known. "It is very cute though. I can't blame you for taking it."
And with that, you think the conversation would be over. But Chris seems to recognize that there's something still lingering in the air - like words left unsaid floating just above your pretty little head. So he makes his way over until he can wrap his arms around you from behind, fingers teasingly squeezing at your sides. It was a feeling you'd never get tired of; Being cozied up in strong arms and giggling under wandering hands.
"Are you... jealous?"
His teasing accusation makes your shoulders bounce with laughter, and his head bobs along to the motion with his chin resting along the collar of your shirt. You can feel his breath fanning over your ear as he giggles out, "You're jealous I have a cute Wolfchan hat and youuuu don't.~"
Forcing your laughter down in your chest and pursing your lips although they still form a smile, you manage to shake your head. The towel in your hands folds neatly as you regain focus, confident in your words. "No, absolutely not. I'd never be jealous of a silly little hat."
"So..." Chris starts softly, beginning to sway behind you and smiling to himself when you join in on the sweet motion. "You wouldn't be excited if I told you I snagged an extra one for you, too...?"
You pause, dropping the towel down upon the stack already folded before turning to face him with curious eyes. Chris pops a brow and hums out, loosening his hold on you so his hands can rest comfortably along the small of your back. "Mm?"
"Is it also Wolfchan or is it a different character?"
A smile paints plump lips, your boyfriend stepping back so he could bend down and grab the black backpack leaning up against the couch you'd been folding laundry on. It unzips, the sight too beautiful to behold as he plucks out another grey beanie with Wolfchan ears - Yes, another one he secretly snagged just so you could match.
And with grinning, giggly expressions and rosy cheeks, the two of you take a few pictures cheek-to-cheek so he can have a new wallpaper for his phone. Yours too, of course. He also makes a note to send them to the group chat later on, met with the puking emoji from Minho almost immediately in response - then a thumbs up so he knew it was all in good fun.
Though seeing the pictures of the two of you in the group chat made Chris think. Maybe he could post them to Instagram, or send them on his Bubble. Maybe it was time to make things... publicly official.
It's a wandering, shy thought at first, unsure if it's a safe thing to do or if he'll be scolded for it by the company. But he decides it's the right time when he peeks over at you folding laundry still, now wearing the Wolfchan hat with the cute ears poking up from the top of your head.
Yeah. He definitely wanted the world to know you were his.
Tag List : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie @inlovewithstraykids @seungminsbest @edit-me-prettyplease @butterflydemons @satosugu4l @jeonginsleftcheek
#skz imagine#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#bangchan x reader#bangchan imagine#bangchan fluff#skz fluff#stray kids fluff
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Worth It
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Topper Thornton x Reader
Summary: After finally finding the strength to end your toxic relationship, Rafe thinks he can win you back, no idea that you've been sleeping with his best friend.
warnings: Non-Con, mentions of cheating, toxic relationship, semi-public sex, jealousy, secret relationship, mentions of side of Rafe x reader, kook!reader, non canon ages, p*rn with a plot
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies
➥ Can this be read as a one shot? Yes! Can this be read as a follow up to Escapism? Also yes!
⭑
You hated the way tears spilled over as Topper forced you to stare into his eyes. You blamed it on the alcohol in your system—your inability to fully control your emotions, right now. The living room was only lit from the glow of the TV, a movie playing that all three of you had long stopped watching, but you could see the blond—and the determination on his face—perfectly.
“Topper,” you quietly gasped, pushing your arm against his neck. “Stop. Rafe-.”
Your words were cut off in your throat with one particularly hard thrust from him, his hips smacking against yours as he fucked you on the floor of Rafe’s living room. The other blond was in the shower, slightly tipsy himself and none the wiser to what was happening downstairs. Topper snapping and taking matters into his own hands wasn’t surprising. Knowing how he could sometimes get about you, you’d expected it at some point…
Just not here and now.
After a tumultuous eight months with Rafe Cameron, you finally found the strength and resolve to break up with him and keep it that way. He was an okay friend, but he’d turned out to be an even worse boyfriend. The constant lies and disrespect and betrayal had finally gotten to you and pushed you to do something about it that didn’t just involve fucking his best friend.
No one was happier than Topper when a month went by and you still hadn’t given in to Rafe’s half assed apologies and pleas.
It was when it finally started to sink in for everyone that you were serious this time. Rafe wasn’t going to win you back this time, and especially not with the sorry excuses of apologies he always gave. You could see it in his eyes every time you were around each other—the barely contained anger and disbelief and most of all the aggravation that he couldn’t do anything about it.
To the public, you were a single woman.
It was a different story behind closed doors.
Topper never had a problem crawling into your bed every time Rafe hurt you, so he especially had no qualms about it now that you and the toxic blond had broken up for good. He could touch you and kiss you and fuck you without abandon. You no longer had to worry about the sound of Rafe’s knocks interrupting you or being quiet when he was asleep just down the hall or refusing sex with him because you were still sensitive from the feel of Topper’s cock only an hour before.
You and Topper were in heaven…
Until Rafe decided that he wanted to actually put in the work with earning your forgiveness.
“I treated you like shit,” he’d said to you one day, shocking you. “I always have and I know that and…you were right to leave me. You should’ve left me after the first time I cheated.”
There’d been a time when you would’ve killed to hear those words coming from Rafe’s mouth. Now though, now you didn’t care. Even though he didn’t know it, you’d gotten back at him in the best way possible, and it was only made better because that’d never been your intent. You hadn’t wanted to ‘get back’ at Rafe that night Topper told you about the other blond and some girl. You’d just been heartbroken…and craving the touch of another.
“Well…thank you for saying that,” you’d responded.
It was sincere. Even though you were at a place where you didn’t need to hear those words anymore, they were still nice to hear all the same. Rafe had nodded as he gazed at you, both of you in your own world away from the rest of the party.
“We’re over, and I get that now, but…we were friends once.”
You’d looked down at that, gathering where he was going with this and wondering how you and he could ever be friends again after all he’d done to you…and even you to him. He’d been your friend once but that hadn’t stopped him from cheating on you and embarrassing you and just overall treating you like shit. You were friends once but that hadn’t stopped you from sneaking around with his best friend once you found yourself at your breaking point with Rafe’s behavior.
“Look, I miss us being around each other and actually talking, you know. And I know I don’t have anyone to blame but myself, but I miss it…” your gaze met his. “I do, and I’m serious about showing you how sorry I am this time.”
You thought it was…nice.
Topper disagreed.
“We both know Rafe,” he spat at you that same night. “You know better than this. The normal routine isn’t working, so now he’s trying something different, and if you think Rafe has any interest in being your friend, I swear to God, Y/N, I will lose any respect-.”
“I am not some stupid bimbo! You don’t think I’ve considered that?” you threw your hands up. “...but I don’t see you cutting him off as a friend anytime soon, so unfortunately I still have to be around and interact with the man who broke my heart. That’ll be a lot easier now that he’s not trying to kill me with his mind every time we’re in the same room.”
Topper hadn’t had a response for that because it was true. Despite how awfully Rafe had treated you, he was still part of your normal circle—the two of you having way too many people in common—and it was something that bothered you but the alternative was isolating yourself from the people you cared about, and that just wasn’t fair to you.
It was obvious then that Topper wasn’t happy with the turn of events, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He was forced to sit back and watch as Rafe played nice with you and talked to you like nothing had happened and even flirt with you in that way he used to back before you dated. He hated it, and it was obvious long before tonight, but with alcohol flowing and trips down memory lane, Rafe got too comfortable.
…and right there in front of Topper, the other blond had thrown his arm around you before pressing his lips to your cheek.
It was only with your quick thinking that the kiss landed on your cheek instead of your lips, and picking up on the change in atmosphere, Rafe had pulled away.
“Shit,” he’d mumbled with a chuckle, running his hand through his hair. “I think I need to sober up a little bit.”
Neither you or Topper paid him much attention as he talked about needing a shower, completely oblivious to what he’d just done. You and the remaining blond merely stared at one another as Rafe made his way upstairs—his family out for the night—and it was only when you heard the bathroom door shut that Topper pounced. A hushed argument turned into something more, Topper’s anger only getting worse by the second, and you couldn’t hold in your pained gasp when his hand twisted into your hair.
Topper’s lips were on you, and his other hand was pushing at the skirt you’d put on this morning. He was a man with tunnel vision, completely uncaring about your ex—his best friend—just upstairs in the shower. No amount of times mentioning that seemed to matter, and despite the fact that you were not in the mood to have sex with Rafe so close by, Topper had reached his breaking point.
His fingers had started to curl inside of you before you knew it, one hand hanging onto him to keep from falling and the other pulling on his wrist as a means to get him to stop. Despite your slight inebriation, your feet had firmly planted on the floor to prevent Topper from pushing you down because you knew that it was over the moment he managed to get you onto your back.
With every push of his fingers into your walls, you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter, his movements becoming smoother as his fingers and hand became slick with your juices. His teeth scraped at your neck, causing a shudder to travel up your spine, and you felt his thumb join his other fingers, circling around and over your clit. The way he massaged that bundle of nerves had you faltering, and Topper saw the opportunity and took it.
It was how you found yourself on your back, literally pushing at him and pleading with him to stop.
“I don’t care,” was his only response when you mentioned Rafe the first time.
You did though, and for the first time, you found yourself genuinely resisting him and trying to get him off of you. Your skirt was hiked up around your waist—the shirt you were wearing ripped open—and Topper had long pulled at your underwear and twisted them and stretched them to give him access to push his hard cock into you. You’d almost been unable to swallow down the choked gasp that threatened to escape your throat.
He was slow in fucking you at first, distracted by the way the length of him repeatedly disappeared inside of you. He always loved that, watching your cunt greedily taking him, watching the way you dripped around him and made a mess on the pink shaft. Every protest mumbled from your lips went ignored, and it was only because you could still hear the sound of Rafe in the shower that you didn’t panic.
However, mentioning Rafe again had the man on top of you changing his pace. His thrusts grew in temp, pushing himself into you and pulling out quicker and quicker. Topper had long discarded his shirt, his shorts pulled down to his ankle as he curved his hips against yours.
“Fuck,” he cursed, grinding himself against you. “Stop talking about Rafe, just stop.”
Your forearm was pressed to his neck, tears in your eyes as you attempted to get through to him.
“He’s right upstairs,” you angrily whispered, voice panicked. “Are you crazy? Get off of me!”
It came out louder than you intended, but you’d have a much easier time explaining to Rafe what a possible noise was than what he’d see if he came down the stairs at any moment. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the thought turned Topper on, his blue eyes glinting in a way you’d never seen as he continued to plunge his cock into you. Every time he pulled his hips back until only the tip of him remained just inside of your folds, you could hear the wet sound it made. When he thrust back into you, the squelch reached your ears, and you were too terrified to linger on how that normally turned you on.
You could only think about Rafe hearing the same thing and going on a rampage.
When Topper pulled back, you foolishly thought he decided to listen to you, but instead he only rested on his knees, his hands grabbing your thighs and yanking you closer. The moan you let out was loud and breathy, the action having caused you to feel the tip of him deep into your gut, Your legs rested over his own thighs, and Topper’s fingers dug into your hips as he jerked himself into you over and over.
Your chest was heaving, and you didn’t miss the way his hooded eyes traced over you, taking it in. Your toes curled with every push of his hips, and faintly, you could hear the distant sound of water running. A blue glow was casted over Topper’s tan skin, evidence of how much time he’d been spending in the sun. under any other circumstance, you’d reach out to run your hands over him.
Not tonight.
“Topper, please,” you breathlessly sighed.
It almost sounded like you were begging him for more, but as it were, you were begging him to stop being an asshole and get off of you. Your gaze trailed over his face and the intensity you saw there. His lips were parted, and his tongue rested just on his teeth as he looked down at you and enjoying the sight of you taking his cock. Your eyes traveled down his chest, taking note of the sweaty sheen it held.
Your gaze eventually stopped.
You watched the way his cock slid in and out of you, almost transfixed by the sight. He stretched you out so good, always had, and it was hard to ignore the way your body buzzed and your heart fluttered and your stomach tightened. You were torn between wanting to give in and adopt his ‘fuck Rafe’ mindset and trying your hardest to push him off of you.
You and Rafe weren’t together anymore, but him catching the two of you would open a whole can of worms that would ruin the dynamic between you three far worse than anything Rafe had done. Rafe had done you dirty so many times, and it didn’t matter that you’d only cheated on him with one guy. It was the right guy—the only guy that would turn his world upside down in the capacity that he’d turned yours. You didn’t want to experience the fallout of that.
More tears spilled over.
“You look so pretty like this, you know that?” Topper wondered, shifting and leaning over you as his hand circled your neck. “Panicked and teary-eyed and absolutely squirming on my cock.”
“Topper, I am begging you,” you tearfully pleaded, grabbing his hand and using your other to push at his chest. “Rafe…”
“You know what? I want him to see, and I’m tired of pretending like I don’t.”
Your eyes widened at that.
“It’d be more than what he deserves.”
The animosity and venom in his tone shocked you, and you didn't react to him brushing your tears away with his thumb. His nose brushed against yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he started fucking you harder, putting way more vigor into each thrust.
“He’s done nothing but treat you like shit…and he thinks he still can,” the blond quietly said, and you heard the sound of the shower turning off upstairs. “I want him to see me fucking the shit out of you.”
He reached down, gently pinching your clit and taking pleasure in the way you moaned.
“I want him to see me stretching you out and burying my cock into this pussy that only gets wet for me…”
Your eyes rolled at his words, and you almost forgot why you wanted him off of you so much.
“I want him to see me come inside of you,” Topper moaned, burning his face into the crook of your neck. “I want him to know that I’m spilling into you and you’re greedily milking me for every drop. I’ll happily tell him all the times I’ve done it.”
You shuddered at that, your nails digging into his arm.
“All the times I sent you right back to him with my cum between your thighs.”
“Fuck, Topper.”
You didn’t know if you were saying that in a good way or bad way. You didn’t know why, but you had never realized just how much animosity Topper held for Rafe. You supposed that he’d have to have a healthy dose to repeatedly fuck his girlfriend, but you’d always thought that had more to do with Topper’s feelings about you and recognizing that Rafe simply wasn’t good enough for you.
However, considering that the three of you were once the best of friends, it made sense that Topper would grow to hate Rafe more and more every time he witnessed him putting you through hell.
“I’m going to fill you up and I don’t care who sees.”
His words were doing a good job of convincing you, and you felt yourself caring less and less too the longer Topper fucked you towards your high. You felt your own hips lifting in time with his to meet his thrusts, getting to a point where he held himself still while you fucked yourself onto his cock.
Rafe had hurt you so much, and yes while his actions of tonight were probably driven by alcohol, he clearly thought he’d get the opportunity to hurt you again. He clearly thought you’d give in, and you two would be right back where you were three months ago. Not only did that make you angry, but it hurt. Choosing to try and be friends again was way more than he deserved, and once again, he was attempting to take advantage of your kindness.
For the first time ever, you wanted to hurt him like he’d hurt you.
Really hurt him.
…and when you found yourself on top of Topper, you didn’t care. He was lifting his hips up into you, one hand on your breast and the other on your hip to help guide you up and down his length. The tip of his cock was hitting something inside of you that had you gasping for breath. You couldn’t stop the breathless gasps and softs mewls that left your lips, eyes half closed as you fucked Topper in Rafe’s own house. You were making a mess on his skin, but you didn’t care.
You didn’t care that you were dripping around him, the inside of your thighs sticky from your juices. You didn’t care that your bra was askew as Topper pinched a hardened bud between his fingers. You only cared about pressing the palms of your hands against his chest to ground yourself and make it easier to bounce on top of him. You only cared about chasing your climax, feeling it come closer with every stroke inside of you, and when you tightened around him—Topper spilling into your eager cunt with a groan—you didn’t care when you looked up and fixed your gaze towards the stairs, locking eyes with his best friend.
#topper thornton#topper thornton x reader#topper thornton imagine#topper thornton fan fiction#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#obx fanfiction#Austin north#obx#obx imagine
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Ichigo gets a lot of shit (typically from outside of the Bleach fandom) for being a character whose wants/goals never change from beginning to end of his series. He always wants to protect people (and even though I could argue that he went from only wanting to protect those close to him to wanting to protect everyone he can, that's not the point I'm making with this post).
I think a lot of people who only give Bleach a passing glance fail to see Ichigo's true character growth. It's not about what his goals are or who he's trying to protect, but rather, it's about how he achieves it.
Ichigo is very self-sacrificing in the first third of Bleach. He believes that if the mission is successful, then it doesn't matter how broken or close to death he gets. The mission, saving Rukia (and hurting/killing as few people in the process), is all that matters.
Then, when a part of himself (his inner hollow) emerges, and says "hey yeah no, I'm not letting you get yourself killed and I'm also not letting you hold back against your enemy", Ichigo immediately rejects it.
It's not until he defeats his inner Hollow that we see Ichigo really dive into a fight with the intent to kill. The problem is, once his Hollow is defeated, he thinks that's it. He's freed himself of that part of him and he can go back to being self-sacrificing.
We see this throughout the Hueco Mundo arc. It's why saving Orihime parallels saving Rukia. Ichigo naively thinks he can suppress a part of himself. He bottles it up until it explodes, coming back to haunt him in his fight with Ulquiorra, etc. He learns that side of himself isn't so easily tucked away, and if he recklessly endangers himself, he could end up endangering his friends too. At his own hand, no less.
Then Ichigo discovers he can commit the ultimate sacrifice. Final Getsuga Tenshou. He can throw away these powers and the parts of himself that he doesn't like, and he can get rid of Aizen all in one go. He's lucky that it worked, but only because Kisuke was there.
Then, once Ichigo is powerless, he learns that's not what he really wants. Life doesn't "go back to normal". The can is open, and there's danger out there beyond just Aizen. And Ichigo can't do anything to stop it unless he gets his powers back.
So he does. Then he cuts down the threat to his friends and family. And he doesn't hesitate this time. Yes, he still has compassion for his enemies (he even goes to the Soul Society to ask for Ginjo's body so he can give him a proper burial), but he's learned not to hold back and he's learned that new threats will appear and he'd rather have the power to face them head on.
So then comes TYBW, and Ichigo is facing battles head-on without hesitation. He goes straight to the "bad guys" with the intention of cutting them down. He learns the truth about who his Inner Hollow is, and he accepts it. He's even willing to accept whatever consequences may come from training in the Royal Palace and becoming stronger. He accepts his power and potential fully, and learns that he has what it takes to protect his loved ones with his strength, and not with a sacrifice.
Ultimately, he heals the part of himself that thinks his life is worth less than other people's. He heals the part of himself that blames himself for not protecting his mother (when he was 9!! Like come on Isshin, put the kid in therapy!! Anyway...) He grows into someone who knows his self worth. And I think, for me at least, that makes him one of my favourite protagonists of all time. Because can't most of us relate to feeling worthless at times? And don't we also wanna overcome that?
Thanks for reading my ramble lmao, I'm sure this could have been more elegantly written but I'm very sleepy and just wanted to get my thoughts out there.
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When I lost you | Young!Silco x Reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/54a026193751016c74f131fd624047c5/30d78ecada24138c-60/s540x810/f63987107354f708f8b0cfa02cb1d61a9b788fc1.jpg)
Warnings: Mentions of death - Reader is sick - Silco is still not a gang lord - Silco does not want Reader to try any drug - Italics = memories - ANGST - grammar mistakes -
When Silco was alone in his office, when he knew not even Jinx was around his mind liked to go back in time to see memories of a different time, so different that it almost seemed like these were dreams.
He remembers you well. Your face, your body, your eyes, they never once lied to him. You always showed him your true colors and motivations. You wanted a better place, a future, a good place for the next generation. Stop the undercity of being know as a place of crime.
You wanted so much.
"What's on your mind Sil?" You asked one hand under your chin as you studied him.
Once again Silco was thinking on how...how to improve lives, how could he and Vander make the undercity different?
"Nothing important" He had said "Just thinking on how you look today" He added smirking when you blushed at his words.
"Charming, I hope this does not mean you or Vande did something...because your sweet talking wont work on me"
"Doesnt always?" He asked pulling you on his lap making you laught. He smelled your hair and let out a content sound. He liked this, this moment. He wanted to stop time and be here forever.
The silence was broken by a heavy cought from you, one that made you have to stand up to breath the little air you could.
"Are you alright Love?" Silco asked getting closer making circles on your back as he saw how you nodded still breathing hard.
"Yeah, i may get a flu soon" You had dissmissed with a smile
Silco blamed himself. For how he have acted, faster or different, for not getting you out of the mines.
"(Y/N)..." Silco started seeing how you were having a hard time just walking the stairs, he had noticed how you also seemed to be slower, a side comment Vander had said on how you almost got caught on a recent work.
"Im fine" You responded back, trying to ignore the pain on your chest.
Once you two made it to the top you took a big long breath.
"You are not fine. I can see it, Vander can see it, everybody can see it" Silco said getting more frustrated by you
"Then all of them are wrong" You declared, letting yourself fall on your couch. Your eyes starting to close.
"You cant even stay awake"
"I have done much work in the mines. Im just tired"
"Then stop, I can help you, i can provide for you!!" Silco almost screamed
"You know I cant leave, what if i need the dam job later? No one will take me in. Every job out there is managed by them, i cant just leave"
"You are killing yourself"
Silco groaned at that, he wanted to go back and beat up his younger self. It was like his words had set off a curse.
Because less than a week from that talk you ended leaving the mines after collapsing and almost causing a fatal mistake.
Silco entered your home. He went to your room were he saw you reading a old book, pages yellow.
"I got you some medicine" Silco started getting it out from a bag well hided.
"Silco stop, these are too expensive!!" You said again even since he had started to get you different ones but no one seemed to work.
"Shut up, just try it" Silco said passing it to you who took it making a face.
"Its terrible"
"Well its not supposed to teast good, its supposed to cure you" Silco responded going to your kitchen to heat up some soup.
When he returned you were deep sleep. He hoped that medicine was doing the trick.
Saddly it did not.
Weeks passed and Silco saw how you became more and more weak. Pale like a ghost, eyes no longer shining but almost out of life.
"Im dying" you said to him one afternoon "Im dying and you cant do anything about it so stop beating yourself"
Even now Silco felt like your words reached him.
"No, i cant let you die" Silco said hands rubbing his hair
"Uh, i can try that thing they are selling now..."
"No" Silco had say "Next thing we need is you getting addicted"
You rolled your eyes but did agree.
The soft rain from outside was like odd music, for a couple that was seeing its end.
"I love you" You said taking his hand "Im happy i got to live my life with you"
If Silco had know these were going to be your last words he would have given you a better response. More than "I love you" and more than false promises.
He had become what you asked him not to, and while he was making on his own way a better life for the city a part of him hated himself. Hated that he had somehow betrayed you.
"Im sorry" He whispered to no one. "Im so sorry (Y/N).
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Cockwarming with TXT
MDNI!
Unprotected sex, kinda dom txt x sub f!reader, breeding kink in jun’s
____________________________________________
Soobin
You guys are having the self-care night that you do every so often. You haven’t seen each other in a while, so you pull out all the bells and whistles. There’s music playing softly as you help each other relax and refresh so lovingly. You gave each other mani-pedis and he even helped you shave.:(
He helped apply your face mask and you crawl onto his lap to help put his on. His hands immediately crawl under your (his) shirt to rest his hands on your hips. Everything’s fine until he tightens his grip and pulls you impossibly closer to him.
“I can’t apply your face mask like this.” You giggle into his chest. “I’m also going to get face mask goo on your shirt if you don’t let me go.”
“I just want to be close to you.” He mumbles and even though you can’t see it, you know he’s pouting.
“I don’t think we can get any closer than we already are.” You place your hands on his shoulders to push yourself back a bit. His hands drift down to your butt tapping twice.
“We could….” He trails off, hoping you get the hint.
“Bin, this is self-care night! A sacred tradition that cannot be paused for sex!” You scold him playfully while repositioning yourself to finish fixing his mask.
“We don’t have to do anything! Just want to be inside you.” He tightens his hold and shifts you onto him. You can already feel him growing hard.
“You promise not to move until we finish?” You say already not believing him. “You’re sure you can handle it?”
“Oh, I can handle it alright.” He scoffs. “Can you?”
“Okay, let’s do it.”
Soobin makes quick work of sliding down your panties and opening you up for him. Slipping down his shorts and boxers and easily lifting you to position himself.
As he slides home, you both release a sigh. You close your eyes to adjust and calm yourself. Your walls flutter around him, pulling him in further, further.
“Well, I can’t not move if you’re going to attempt to milk me.”
“I’m not trying to!” You hit his shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m not immune to a monster trying to rip me apart.”
“A monster?” He smirks. “You flatter me.”
“Yeah, yeah, hush so I can finish your face mask.”
He does hush and let you finish your work. After that, you each take turns applying a lip scrub. While wiping his off, you see his lips looking so pink and pouty. You can’t help but lean in closer for a peck.
Well…. It was meant to be a peck. You’re not sure who did it, but one of you decided it was meant to be a deep kiss. Soobin makes quick work of sliding his tongue into your mouth and mapping out the already familiar space. You clench around his dick and at that point, can you really blame him for thrusting up?
You both let out moans and… well…. You know what happens next
“You liar!”
“You started it!”
“I did not! I just wanted to kiss you!”
“And what am I supposed to do? NOT fuck you after that? Be serious.”
Yeonjun
When you told Yeonjun he didn’t need to use a condom because you’ve been on the pill for a few months, you didn’t expect him to turn into an omega in heat.
You didn’t expect him to fuck you six ways to Sunday and then some. He’s put you in every position in the book and even added a few you didn’t know existed and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to stop anytime soon.
Right now he’s got you in a classic mating press and his dancer hips are putting in work. You can barely remember your own name and the only sounds leaving you are broken moans. Tears are falling from your eyes but Jun just kisses them away.
“It’s okay, baby.” He pants out. “I’m almost done, just gotta make sure it takes.”
“Huh?”
“Gotta fill you up, okay? Gotta get you pregnant.” And with that, he’s back to thrusting so hard you’re shifting on the bed. And oh, that was kinda hot? It doesn’t even make sense but he said it as if he believed it.
When he’s done (for the time being), he just flips your position and has you rest on top of him with his cock still inside. You go to pull away, but he locks his arms around your waist.
“Stay.” He says with such conviction. “We’re gonna go again in a bit.”
“Jun, I don’t even remember what day it is, what do you mean go again?”
“I already told you what the goal of today is.” Is all he says in reply, pulling you into a soft kiss.
Neither of you can stay still very long with his quickly hardening cock inside of you, so it's no surprise that you start again soon.
Beomgyu
It was originally a bet. Beomgyu wanted to test if he’d be able to focus more on the game with you warming him, and you pointed out how he can’t even handle getting under the desk support. Being the person that he is, he took this as a challenge, and that led you to now.
You’re fully naked, warming his cock while he’s only in a shirt. Headphones on, and pushed as close to the desk as possible so he can reach the keyboard with ease. It sounds like he’s doing fairly well and if it wasn’t for the way he clenched his teeth anytime he wasn’t yelling at his teammates, you’d think he was completely unaffected.
That’s all fine and good, but what about you? You’re bored. You don’t have your phone and you can’t even see the screen. You can only alternate between looking at your bed or Beomgyu’s face/neck.
Really, he can’t blame you for finding a way to entertain yourself, can he? You start small, leaning into the crook of his neck and leaving quick kisses, running your hands up his chest. His arms tighten on your sides, but he doesn’t really react outside of that.
You then move to licking and sucking lightly. Not enough to leave marks, but enough for him to feel it. Once you do that, one of his hands leaves the keyboard to mute his mic and the other finds your waist.
“Be good, and let me finish.” He says tilting his head down to make eye contact with you. “I’ll play with you after, okay baby?”
“I’m not even doing anything.” You pout up at him. “I can’t see the screen and you’re yapping my ears off.”
“Hmm.” He pouts down at you. “And whose fault is that, huh? Keep those pretty lips and hands to yourself and I’ll make it up to you after this game okay?”
“But-“ You’re cut off by one of his teammates yelling at him to move already. Beomgyu fixes you with a look, unmutes his mic, and quickly focuses on his game again.
You figure that since he doesn’t want you to touch him, you’ll just touch yourself. You lean your head back on his shoulder and slide one of your hands between your bodies to rest on your clit. You rub it softly at first and let out a sigh.
The stimulation makes you clench around Beomgyu and he tries to look at you but you don’t move. After a few seconds, he just goes back to the game. Gradually speeding up your movements, you bite your lip to keep your noise down. Your other hand rests on his other shoulder to ground yourself.
It feels, surprisingly, good. Good enough that you’re pretty sure you could come from this alone. You’re so caught up in your pleasure that you don’t realize that Beomgyu hasn’t spoken in a while, you also haven’t heard the keyboard either. The only sounds in the room are your soft sighs and the wet sounds of your pussy (if you realized, you’d probably be mortified).
Just when you’re on the edge of your release, Beomgyu grabs your waist and pulls you completely off of him.
“Why’d you do that?” You ask around a gasp.
“If I knew you’d be such a slut, I wouldn’t have asked you to warm me while I game.” Is his bored reply. “If I hadn’t left the game, everyone would’ve heard you being a needy whore.”
You promptly look away from him.
“Oh, so now you have some shame? I told you I’d make you feel good if you let me finish, but you always need to get what you want, huh?” He pushes you onto the desk and stands. “I can never be nice to you. You always have to be a little brat, huh? Where’s my good girl?
“I am good!” You protest. “I was just bored.”
Yeah, the defense sounds weak even to you.
“Yeah? Well now you’ve got my attention and you’re not gonna like it.” Beomgyu promises with a cruel smile.
Taehyun
You don’t remember who suggested you cockwarm Tae while he writes lyrics, but you think they’re very smart (that alone leads you to believe it was him, but semantics). It’s just another form of quality time between the two of you, but so much more than that at the same time.
You’re resting on your elbows scrolling on your phone while he’s being kneeling behind you (bless his body) as he works. His lyric book is quite literally on your ass so he has a space to work but it’s fine. You can totally do this all the time. If you stumble upon a really good video, you can almost forget he’s inside you completely.
Or, at least your mind can. Your body, on the other hand, cannot. Tae feels you dripping on his knees and the bed. He can feel your walls fluttering around him every so often. And really, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he just let his pretty girl suffer?
Even if you don’t know it yourself, your body is telling him that you need him. He has to do something. And really, he’s been working for nearly an hour, that’s enough time. You’ve been so good for him, it’s time to give you what you need.
He tosses his book onto the floor and pulls you up onto your knees, startling you.
“Tae-?” You can even finish until he’s leaning over to hook his head over your shoulder, reaching so so far into you.
“Shhh baby,” he says sweetly, placing a kiss on your cheek. “I’ve got you. You’ve been so good for me even though you needed me so bad. Let me make it better, hm?”
And now that he mentions it, you’re aware of just how wet everything is. How nice and heavy he feels inside you. How if he doesn’t fuck you in the next few minutes you just might die.
And fuck you he does. He has to reward his baby for waiting so patiently.
Kai
“So, we just… stay like this?” Kai asks from behind you with one of his hands hovering unsure above your naked hip.
“Yeah! And we watch the show!” You say pointing to the anime playing on the tv.
You see, you wanted to try cockwarming while watching anime. It would take a time when you and Kai relax together and make it even more relaxing!
Sadly for Kai, the absolute last thing he feels right now is relaxed. He really doesn’t want to move, but it’s just- it’s hard okay? He has his pretty girlfriend naked and pressed against him. His cock is snug between your walls and it feels good. Of course, it feels good, but it could be better, right?
It wouldn’t even just feel better for him, it would feel better for you too. He waits for a bit to gauge how you’re doing, and it seems like you’re content to remain like this for the show. Kai doesn’t think he can handle that- actually, he knows he can’t.
He starts shifting a bit. Trying to find a comfortable position, until he just decides to just thrust shallowly. It’ll be subtle, right? He could pass it off as finding a good position, right?
With that in mind, he takes a tighter grip on your hip and pulls out just the slightest bit before going back in. And fuck, even just that is leagues better than staying still. You don’t even seem to have realized.
He continues on like that and, oh, has it always been this hard to stay quiet? Maybe it’s the nature of what he’s doing, using you like this while you’re content to watch the show. Is this a kink? It definitely feels kinky. Whatever, he’ll think about it more when he isn’t trying to chase an orgasm.
On your end, you’re thanking every god you can think of that Kai needs you just as much as you need him. From the second he slid inside you, you knew you were done for. So when he started thrusting, you could’ve cried from happiness. As you feel Kai push you nearly to the edge, you grab his hand and move it down to your nub to help you along the way.
“Sorry!” His mouth says, but his body grows more brazen. Now that the facade is gone, he doesn’t have to hold back, right? He can just focus on making you feel good. And he does exactly that. Thrusting harder and rubbing your clit, to push you over the edge.
After letting you ride out your high, he pulls out and flips you onto your back. Not even hesitating to enter you again. It’s okay, you can finish the show later, he needs you. Just take it for him, okay? He’ll make you feel so, so good.
#beomgyu x reader#hueningkai x reader#soobin x reader#taehyun x reader#yeonjun x reader#txt x reader#beomgyu#hueningkai#soobin#txt taehyun#txt#tomorrow x together#txt smut#soobin smut#hueningkai smut#beomgyu smut#taehyun smut#yeonjun smut#lailols
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overwatch headcanons: how they say "I love you" with Ramattra, Reaper, Reinhardt, Cassidy and Hanzo
a bit angsty and some curse words ahead, but still sfw. don’t blame me, I enjoy the suffering and since you're still reading I bet you also do
also silly little juno was SMASHED by writer’s block again, please help sending a headcanon request, but read rules first
Ramattra
doesn’t say it at all, actually
he was shaped for violence, hands carefully constructed to murder
the sentience came with grief, sorrow, rage… but love? this big fella doesn’t even love himself, to begin with
it’s hard for him to cope with affection, to learn the aspects of it, mostly the very subtle nuances of reciprocation
but it’s you, and since you came along, this foreign feeling haunts him
and when you say “I love you” first… he’s so silent you’re scared you’ve broken him with this three words alone
“How is it possible for you to love a being as myself?”
he feels the urge to say something back, but simply can’t vocalize the words he’s dying to say
you know he’s overwhelmed already, his pride contrasting his feelings, so you don’t push him too far: Ramattra shows you enough
but your words echoes in his systems for days
in one of these, he’s with you as he always do before you fall asleep, and the words just came out
“I may not have a heart, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be mine: it would be yours. It always has been.”
it’s not an explicit I love you
no, it’s much better
Reaper
you know what happens between you two must stay secretive
it’s… casual, if you can name it such
I mean, he comes to you every damn night, and most of them aren’t for sex, but for company
and the cuddles, of course
you see him past the scars, the shadows… what lies beneath it as the ghost of a man
and you love him nonetheless
despite all the danger that comes along with him being one of Talon’s counselors and a declared enemy to Overwatch
until one night, when he doesn’t show up and never let you know why
and this one night turns into tons
you’re broken, to say at least
he avoids you, not even a single stolen glance through briefings, no more missions together
you don’t know where you manage to find the courage to confront him, but somehow you do, so you’re cornering Reaper himself and demanding an answer
“Isn’t it obvious?”
well, of course: you were dumb enough to get to attached
but he steps closer, so surprisingly close you can hear a shallow breath muffled by his mask
the shadows engulf you both before you can blink, and his ghostly touch stops just inches away from your cheek
“I’ve risked too much so far… but not you, not anymore”
you know what he means, you just wish you didn’t
he departs with a last glance over his shoulder, to never look back again
if he wasn’t who he was, maybe things would be different
yet if things weren’t the same, you two wouldn’t even met
in the end, you’re left to grief in the graveyard he paths on his way away from you
Reinhardt
he’s a hero and will always be
but that doesn’t mean Reinhardt is invincible
that’s why you’re laying by his side, taking extra care to not accidentally touch the bandages covering his torso
you’re little injured from the last mission, a few scratches maybe
thanks to him, who jumped right into the moment to keep your head glued to your neck
per usual, he would be flourishing the battle tales and his epic acts, his thunderous laugh echoing through the HQ, but now?
the sadness contorting his face breaks your heart
he stares down at you, one calloused thumb tracing under the thin line of the stitches on your cheekbone
“I’ve let them hurt you”
oh… so that’s it
“If I was a second late… I hate to even think of what could've happened”
he groans, retreating his hand and looking away
if he could ever be more dearing, you would’ve exploded
you cup his face and make Reinhardt look at you once again, reassuring him you’re here, safe and sound, thanks to him
it takes a bit of convincing, but soon enough you hear one of his deep chuckles resonating in his chest and know that you’ll be just fine
“I will always be there to protect you, liebling, no matter what it takes. For I could never live in a world where there is no you by my side.”
Cassidy
he’s always flirting and teasing, so you would assume it’s all a joke
despite him throwing his arm over your shoulder and resting his head on yours every goddamn time he has a chance
and if you’re quiet and close enough, you can hear his fast heartbeats pulsing
maybe… he’s just affectionate, yeah
not that you see Cole like that with anyone else, but
you could never take him seriously, because he can never be serious for once
it’s always a wink here, a smooth darlin’ there
yet he never makes a move on you that gives you the clarity you need
so it’s it, an eternal what if
until one days he comes from a mission, all dirty and hurt
you’re surprised to see he came straightforward to you, still trying to catch his breath while holding to his injured side
but before you can drop any question, Cole smashes his lips against yours
and it feels holy
he keeps you close when you break the kiss, trying to remind yourself how to breath
his breath is so warm against your face, and that familiar scent of smoke makes your knees weak
“I fucking meant everything I’ve ever said, doll”
for the way he just kissed you, you’re now sure he does
Hanzo
Hanzo isn’t one to speak about his feelings openly
you’re actually surprised you’re now tiptoeing around some sort of serious relationship
at least, you think it’s serious since you barely leave each other’s side
it’s extremely hard for him to be vocal about his affection, though
sometimes, he would still flinch when you touch him out of blue
but he loves to run his fingers along your hair, your face…
your body is his to worship
and there’s this lazy morning, where he’s kissing your knuckles and embracing your waist…
you just feel you could melt right here, into him
until something cold circles your finger and your eyes snap open
a ring
a FUCKING ring
you stare at him in pure disbelief, eyes so wide they must pop out by any second
Hanzo shows the most loving smile you had ever seen, kissing your ring finger
that now has an actual engagement ring
“Being with you everyday is still too little time. I wish nothing but foreverness with you”
#overwatch 2#overwatch x reader#overwatch headcanons#ramattra#ramattra x reader#hanzo#hanzo x reader#cole cassidy#cassidy x reader#reinhardt wilhelm#reinhardt x reader#gabriel reyes#overwatch reaper#reaper x reader#gabriel reyes x reader
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Y'know, it's so funny to me when people make out like Tim Drake would keep files on how to take down his friends when Tim has explicitly said he disagrees with Batman on this:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/960334f8203ef17bc997c15fb6202d14/452e9bdc28b112d5-68/s540x810/3865a6122f640647cb4cd5036887d2dd2a0b7c0b.jpg)
[Young Justice (1998) #36]
Like, yes, during his Red Robin tenure he does make a Hit List full of contingency plans for known heroes. But if you go and read that, you'll notice that, while the Justice League and Damian may be on there, Tim's own friends are decidedly absent:
[Red Robin (2009) #14]
In fact, a lot of these heroes are people that have either (a) attacked Tim specifically, (b) have a track record that includes turning evil/getting mind controlled, or (c) are on the JLA (meaning Batman probably already had those files compiled and Tim just stole them).
So yeah: Tim's not down with contingency-planning for his friends. You know which one of the YJ crew DID agree with Batman though? My favorite blorbina Anita Fite, aka Empress:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a192ef9c4c7d34b14765f37faf88e3ce/452e9bdc28b112d5-06/s540x810/75aee7c93a42deab6094b5e86576ecd133f65038.jpg)
[Young Justice (1998) #36]
But yeah, this contrast is honestly fascinating to me. Because while both Anita and Tim have been shown to be incredibly loyal individuals, this exchange really highlights the fact that, between the two of them, Anita is far more likely to engage in this kind of pragmatism when she thinks it's necessary to get the job done
The whole Our Worlds at War arc actually does a really good job of illustrating how both of them react to betrayal from within. It's not just the Batman Files conflict either -- I'm thinking specifically about the hallucination-based torture Granny Goodness put them through, which showed them their worst fears. Most of the team ended up having to watch their loved ones die, but what's super interesting to me is that we really only see Anita and Tim hallucinate that their loved ones blame them for their deaths:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e1ed27680b7c49433b73e778547f29dd/452e9bdc28b112d5-f1/s540x810/596ec330cfb34ac3ff333da2bbd2f809171c66f3.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/54e54581a8fbe438f038f0fc656cf179/452e9bdc28b112d5-e1/s540x810/75c3f5bb8a356aa0a92c790283c98e483216186c.jpg)
[Young Justice (1998) #37]
Like. It's not the same as a teammate turning evil at all. But it does give us a good idea of how they'd both react when faced with a friend or teammate doing harmful things, albeit on a smaller scale. Because where Tim kind of just accepts Superboy yelling at him and moves straight into bargaining for Kon's life, Anita actually flips the script, gets angry, and defends herself against her father:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/772c917a802a17e5e636ee6aa1b64060/452e9bdc28b112d5-57/s540x810/f43ee694ed398dfdc244734ba1293af2ba2508d9.jpg)
[Young Justice (1998) #37]
(she actually gets so righteously pissed off that she manages to break out of the VR simulation Granny Goodness had her trapped in, but that's another point)
But yeah, it's super interesting, because by this point, both Anita and Tim have been set up to be very similar characters. They both can be a little bit obsessive, they both have some issues with boundaries and stalking (Tim with Nightwing and Batman, Anita with Cissie), and of the team, they're both portrayed as the "normal" members (Anita does technically have mind control powers but she barely ever uses them, and in a fight, she's basically just a very good, human-level fighter)
But at the end of the day, though Batman forces Robin to put on a cool front of objectivity, Tim (at least in his pre-grief-spiral era) ultimately wants to see the best in his team. When the people he cares about screw up, he wants to give them second chances. And when that trust gets broken, his first instinct is to try to use diplomacy, or, failing that, simply remove himself from the situation (as we see at the end of the Our Worlds at War arc when he quits the team)
Anita, on the other hand, while still incredibly loyal, does not hand out that loyalty unconditionally. We see this when she tries to keep her identity secret from the YJ squad, we see it when she gets pissed in Granny Goodness's hallucination when her father blames her for her mother's death, and we see it when she later blames Secret for her perceived role in Anita's father's death
Anita also happens to sit right smack dab in the middle of the YJ morality scale; while she's generally pretty chill and willing to abide by typical superhero codes of ethics (unlike Slobo and Secret), she's also been shown to bend those rules when she believes it's necessary (as seen here when she tortures and threatens to kill a man for trying to hurt Cissie). Ultimately, what this means is, between Tim and Anita, it's honestly Anita who'd probably be the most willing to put her personal qualms aside, buckle down, and go against her loved ones if it was the only reasonable option
Anyway. This is a really long-winded way of saying I think Gun Batman's biggest nemesis should be Empress
#anita fite#meta#tim drake#young just us#LISTEN hear me out i may be an anita girlie but i'm also right#they barely interact but that doesn't change the fact that they're FOILS your honor. one reflects the other#plus she's probably got hella connections in the government like let's face it fite and maad definitely knew amanda waller#gnome talks comics#red robin#yj98#young justice core four#batfam#batfamily#dc comics#anita tag#kon el superboy#donald fite#titans of tomorrow#gun batman#long post#tim tag
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"Because I love you."
A/N - Guys I'm really into these sappy pieces recently. Pls feel free to send requests for something else if inspired. Also, I might be doing a pt.3 to Teach Me at some point, I just have to pick where the story is going.
Summary - A showdown with an unsub leaves you in the hospital. Spencer can't help but feel guilty. Could almost losing you push him to confess his love? (spoilers: yes it does)
Warnings - spencer x reader, BAU level violence, some angst on Spencer's part, fluff, and a love confession
You stared down at your hands, battered and bloodied from your futile attempts to fight back. Caught off guard during an interview with a man who was only supposed to be an eye witness, not the unsub himself, forced you to fight for your life. By the time the neighbors heard the scuffle and called the local police to come to your rescue, you figured you looked like you’d been through seven rounds of an MMA fight. Your head ached, your eye was swollen shut, and you nearly cried in agony with every breath as you were certain you’d broken a rib.
After a tense standoff with the local police, the unsub was in custody, leaving you on the floor with your many wounds. You managed to stand yourself up and walk out the door to the waiting ambulance, only to collapse into the EMT’s arms. You felt yourself being loaded in the back of the vehicle as they started an IV. As consciousness drifted away from you, you couldn’t help but wonder where your team was.
***
You awoke in the hospital to the steady sound of your heart monitor beeping and muffled conversation from outside your room. Your bloodied clothes had been traded in for a hospital gown at some point, and your midsection was bound tightly with some sort of bandages, you assumed to keep your rib in place. You managed to open your good eye in an attempt to find the source of those muffled voices. Your eyes landed on Emily and JJ speaking in the corner of the room, voices hushed.
“He can’t blame himself. None of us saw this coming,” Emily said, her voice stern but laced with concern.
JJ shook her head. “He feels terrible, Emily. I’ve seen him come in and out of here crying three times in the last two hours. He rarely cries.”
Who could they be talking about?
Emily looked at the floor in silence, trying to formulate a reply. JJ cleared her voice to speak again. “They’re partners, Emily,” JJ said, “Of course he’s going to blame himself.”
Spencer.
Deciding you’d had enough of eavesdropping, you did your best to sit up, only to let out a whimper when a sharp pain pierced your side. JJ and Emily turned to face you, surprised looks on both their faces.
“Hey, just lay back,” JJ encouraged. She rushed to the bedside, placing a soothing hand on your arm.
“How long have I been asleep?” you asked.
Emily shook her head, “Only twelve hours, which isn’t very much considering what you’ve been through. I’ll tell the doctors you need another IV and some pain medication.”
As she turned for the door, you shook your head, “Emily, wait.”
Emily turned to face you, coming to stand at the foot of your bed. “What is it?”
“Where’s Spencer?” you asked. Emily looked to JJ, the two of them sharing a knowing glance. You and Spencer had always been close, as partners and friends.
“He’s been going back and forth between pacing the parking lot and the lobby for hours. I can’t imagine how many steps he’s taken,” Emily joked. “I’ll go get him for you.” With that, she turned and left the room, leaving you and JJ to catch up on what you’d missed in the last few hours.
JJ explained what happened after you’d passed out: how the unsub was in custody, finding another victim in his basement, and the team realizing that they’d sent you out to interview the lunatic on your own. “We just thought he was going to give you some information about the case. We had no reason to think that he was the one who-”
You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop her. “I didn’t think so either. It’s why I agreed to go alone. Nobody’s at fault.”
JJ nodded, a solemn look on her face. “I’m just so glad you’re okay. We were all so worried once we connected the dots. I was telling Emily - I haven’t seen Spencer so stressed in years.”
As if on cue, both you and JJ turned to the sound of rushed footsteps coming down the hallway. Spencer’s tall frame was running (no, sprinting) down the hospital corridor. You felt a small smile tug at the corner of your lips as he burst into the room, hair danging in front of his eyes and clearly out of breath.
He approached your bedside, leaning down so he could be face-to-face with you. You could only see him with one good eye, but you did your best to smile to show him that you were doing alright. You brought a hand to his face, pushing the fallen strands of hair out of his eyes so you could see him more clearly. “Hello to you too,” you joked.
“Y/N-” Spencer started, the tears quickly gathering in his eyes, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve gone with you. I should have known that-”
“That the guy who called into the tipline was actually the unsub? Spencer, be logical. None of us knew. I was just telling JJ, nobody is at fault.”
A single tear fell down his cheek as he examined your injuries. With each scratch and bruise he found, he felt another crack forming in his heart. He hadn’t protected you. Wasn’t that what he was supposed to do? He was your partner. Your best friend. He loved you, that he knew. He’d forced that love to be as platonic as he could make it, trying to avoid ruining your perfect friendship. It was moments like this that made that more difficult than ever, as he tried to reckon with his love and his guilt.
Your bruised hand was still cradling his face. He could feel the bandages against his stubble, and he cursed himself again. It was only then that the other presence in the room became known to him. JJ stood on the other side of the bed, another knowing smile gently painting her lips. Spencer knew what he had to do. JJ knew what Spencer had to do. He looked at her, his eyes subtly asking her to leave the two of you alone. JJ took the hint with a small nod, leaving the room without another word as you and Spencer continued to examine each other.
“So, JJ’s filled me in on what I missed,” I said, breaking the silence. “Sounds like a pretty exciting half day,” I joked.
Spencer shook his head, pulling away from your hand. He didn’t go far, though, intertwining his own with yours as he leaned back from the bed. “I was worried sick,” he said.
“I can tell, Spence,” you said, trying to prop yourself up with your pillow. “You really shouldn’t have been. You know I always come out of these things relatively unscathed.” He raised an eyebrow at your statement, taking in your swollen and bruised features. “Well… maybe not unscathed. Alive, at least,” you quipped.
An eerie silence fell over the room. You could feel the tension increase as the gears turned in his head.
“But what if you don’t someday?” he whispered, his voice far away. You looked over at him, his eyes fixed on your heart monitor and the gentle green lines rising and falling accompanied by the signature beep-beep-beeping.
You squeezed his hand in an attempt to bring him back down to Earth. “I’ll always come back, Spencer. It’s what you and I do. We come back alive for each other.”
The tears that had pooled in his eyes earlier spilled over his cheeks as he let out a small whimper. He leaned down, gently wrapping his arms around you as he wept. “Hey, it’s okay Spencer,” you tried to calm him.
“No, it’s not. It-it’s not because,” he trailed off. You could still feel his shoulders shaking as he cried.
“Why, Spencer?” you asked once more. “Please, you can tell me anything.”
Suddenly his sobs slowed. He pulled back from your embrace, taking in your features. Bruised and battered as you were, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He felt like his heart was going to explode. Before his brain could catch up with his mouth, the words came tumbling out. “Because I love you,” he said simply.
Your jaw dropped open at his words. While you should’ve seen this coming, nothing could prepare you for the way your heart jumped. If it wasn’t evident from the expression on your face, the heart monitor picked up its beeping, nearly doubling its pace. The sound wasn’t lost on Spencer, who frantically looked at the screen.
“Oh no,” he mumbled, quickly walking to the monitor. “Did I upset you? I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ve just felt this way for so long and if I keep pretending like I don’t-”
“Spencer,” you cut him off, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in minutes. “I love you too.”
The look on his face was priceless, and you wished you could have taken a picture, but you did your best to engrave it on your brain forever. His brown, teary eyes brightened in a moment, a glimmer of hope shining from within. “You do?” he asked.
You laughed, allowing your head to fall back on the pillow behind you. “Spencer, I volunteer to work with you during nearly every case. We split a room every week. I only wished that you’d said this sooner so we could’ve split the bed, too.”
He stared at you in shock. The tears in his eyes long forgotten as a smile crept on his face.
A soft laugh left his mouth as he leaned down to you once more, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, careful to avoid any injured area. “Well, I promise that next time we can,” he said. “And,” he started once more, “I’m never letting you go anywhere by yourself again.”
You smiled up at him, running your fingers over his own. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid#criminal minds fluff#dr spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid fluff#bau x reader#emily prentiss#jennifer jj jareau#jennifer jareau#spencer reid fanfic#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid criminal minds#dr reid#matthew gray gubler#mgg#spencer x reader
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This is such a telling page for Ford. Not only does he detail his social missteps and admit to being lonely in Gravity Falls, despite the scientific wonder of the place, but he also uses what I call "Fordese 2," a scrambled version of the "Fordese 1" code we were first introduced to in Journal 3 to label himself a "six-fingered freak" and to state that "Stanley would have made her laugh." (Her, being the waitress Ford tries out his nerdy science joke on, which goes down like a lead balloon despite the fact that it is legitimately funny, given the right audience).
It's like Bill says. "Ego of a king. The insecurity of a circus freak. And totally isolated..." (Funny enough, Bill could probably turn those exact words on himself, as well.)
Ford so wanted Gravity Falls to be the place where he'd finally fit in, the puzzle to his misshapen puzzle piece.
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And as we see in the missing Journal pages from BoB, that was not to be the case. And worst of all? Ford blames it on his hands at first, but the reality is that he says that "Stanley could make her laugh," meaning Ford's "freakishness" (as he would put it) has less to do with his six fingers and much more to do with Ford's personality and the way he interacts with others.
This is actually worse. Fingers, you can fix, if you want to. By the time you're an adult, most people probably wouldn't care. But to Ford, his fingers seem to be more a manifestation of something internal, something he feels is fundamentally broken about him and that's just the absolute worst hell to be stuck in.
So yeah, it's hardly surprising Ford fell so hard for Bill's shenanigans (and you can define "fell so hard" however you want, although that karaoke page in BoB is especially damning). Here's an interdimensional being who not only can guide you to unlocking the secrets of the universe and propel you towards scientific fame and glory (and thus shoving every taunt, invective, side-eye, and eye roll ever hurled at you over the decades down your tormentors' throats) - but he's (on the surface) completely glib about being a freak himself.
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For Ford, this must have been like finding a shady, sparkling oasis after thirty years of trawling through the desert (especially after Stanley's "betrayal" - Stanley, who along with Fiddleford, being the only person Ford felt like he could be himself around and still be accepted as a human being).
Now, is Bill trying way too hard to show how much he doesn't care? Uhhh, yeah. Bill has almost the same hangups as Ford. Labeled a freak for a genetic mutation and ostracized by his peers. Has a rare gift in that he can see not only into the third dimension but can see even past that, into possible dimensions and futures, which is a wild skill to have. Compare this with Ford's gigantic science brain and academic overachievement. Same deal. And not only this! Bill, in an attempt to prove what he can do with his "freakishness," to prove his worth and place in the universe - he tries to show off something to the denizens of his dimension (we don't know yet what Bill did), only to end up slaughtering his entire dimension. Ford was a hair's breath away from doing the exact same thing with the portal. Because we know from Journal 3 that part of his motivation is to be famous and get accolades for his work, and that maybe "girls will finally talk to me." (Which, Fordsy, let's be real here - I don't think you're actually into these "girls" for real, but you want the acceptance that comes with fitting in with societal standards, and getting a state-sanctioned girlfriend is exactly the type of thing Ford would want to make himself feel "normal.")
Anyway, the point being that if Ford had succeeded with his initial portal attempt, he would have basically wiped out his own dimension. Just. Like. Bill. And it makes you wonder - yeah, yeah, Bill wanted to party, Bill needed out of the Nightmare Realm, Bill's a psychopath who enjoys destruction.
But honestly? I think part it all was that Bill wanted someone like him. His own puzzle piece. Another monster. A being whose collateral damage in the quest to justify their existence in this universe ends in wholesale slaughter.
And Ford had the capacity to easily fit that mould.
#hello there#book of bill spoilers#stanford pines#bill cipher#i could go on and on about ford's hangups and his leaky morals that are definitely tied to his self esteem issues#it's fucking tragic but GODS is he a great layered character#both him and his brother there is so much to explore there it is TASTY#also i fully believe ford had the capacity to be evil!ford if a few things had gone differently in his timeline#and that when bill looked into those futures A LOT of them ended with ford blowing up his own dimension
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The way I SCREAMED when I saw the latest update to "Everything is Alright" bestie I am SHOOK
Ha. Sorry. It’s been a week away and it’s only Monday and I tend to take it out on the characters
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Everything is Alright Pt 79
IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader
• Telling you every awful, deceitful thing your Seeker has done should have delighted him. A petty bit of revenge against him. But it just leaves him oddly hollow inside to watch your shoulders droop, little hands curling into fists in your lap. Because he’s told you all of it. Watching your eyes close as he told you how Starscream had boobytrapped a weapon’s shipment after the Autobots kept intercepting and stealing them, but hadn’t bothered to disarm it when it had gone to potential Decepticon troops, spinning their deaths as Autobot tampering to keep the blame from himself and to stir unrest. Every awful thing he can remember, he’s laid out for you. “Do you know why I keep that treacherous creature around despite his many murder attempts?” He asks, his amusement fading some when you just shake your head, refusing to look at him. Because saying it all out loud has left him only tired down to his spark. “To remind myself to trust no one, pet.”
• Had Star really dragged the dead body of an enemy through a battlefront, throwing their broken body down in front of their allies and laughed? Had he really done all those things? He’s not like that, you don’t want to believe he’s a monster, because he’s never hurt you. You don’t want to believe he’s capable of any of those things. Understand they’re at war, but some of it is just so callous and unfeeling. Like he can’t care about anything beyond his own ambition. Do you really know him? Or do you only see what he’s allowed you to see? Megatron must be wrong, you need him to be, because you love Star and if he is a monster, that love is only going to hurt you. Flinching when Megatron tips your chin up, you feel the tears trekking down your face and you hate him for it. For making you question everything. “It’s better that you know,” he says, deep voice soft like he’s doing you a kindness, not destroying you.
• Can feel your distress, that awful ache stringing him tight, making Soundwave disobey and enter the bridge without even an excuse. Because he can’t think of a reason to return before being summoned when he sees you crying silently, feels your pain like it’s his own. “Lord Megatron,” he begins, wanting to reach out and pick you up. Soothe away that pain. You’re not hurt physically and it’s a relief, but what did Megatron say to upset you like this?
• “Take the human,” Megatron growls, spark twisting unpleasantly as you cry. Knows you’re too innocent to survive Starscream, far too trusting to understand he’s using you. Even if Megatron can’t understand what his game is, there must be a plan there. The Seeker’s never does anything without a reason. But there’s no pleasure in breaking you, it just leaves him oddly tired as Soundwave picks you up and holds you close. Making him wonder about his and the Seeker’s claim that you’re a pet. And he hasn’t lied, it’s better that you understand the monster you’re defending. That you expect the betrayal.
• Cradled in Soundwave’s hands, you wonder if he’s as bad as Star. As bad as their leader must also be and you feel like a fool. Because you do love them, both of them. Wonder if they know, if it’s funny to them how trusting you are. And it hurts even as you just want to pretend it away. “Little one?” Lingering in the hall outside the bridge, gentle servos tip your chin up and carefully wipe away the tears. And somehow that makes it even worse, that careful touch after hearing all of that. And you just want to go home. To get away from them if it’s all true.
• “Was he telling the truth about Star?” You ask and his spark constricts. Even not knowing what Megatron told you, he can guess. Because it’s no secret the lengths Starscream has gone to in the past, it’s why he’d worried over you staying with the Seeker to begin with. But after seeing you with him, he’d realized something had shifted. That Starscream was trying to change because of you. And you turn your face away when he doesn’t answer, doesn’t deny the seeker’s past. Because he can’t lie to you even as your misery echoes through him, becoming his own.
• The moon is up, a thin sharp sliver cutting through the thin clouds when he returns to base to find the bridge dark, worry twisting through him. Had Megatron kept you? Does he dare go to his quarters and ask to have you back? Wings flicking, he heads to Soundwave’s quarters instead. Finds the communications officer still awake, bent over his desk. And you sitting on the edge as far from him as you can get, your eyes red when you look up at him. It’s the odd emptiness in your expression though that stops him short just inside the doorway. Because you always smile for him, always glad to see him. Anger creeping in all over again as his optics slide to Soundwave. Knowing this is all his fault. Whatever this is, he’s brought you both to this point. Betrayed you and him. “What did he tell you?” He asks, raspy voice soft and sickle sharp as the moon outside.
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#transformers x reader#starscream x reader#idw starscream#megatron x reader#soundwave x reader#idw soundwave#idw megatron
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So I saw this on Facebook and thought it would make a great Steddie fic.
Now the jewelry screams Eddie, but I think that this is bouncer Eddie and drunk Stevie, having been broken up with for the hundredth time and just wanting to get blackout drunk.
Modern AU. Robin is off visiting family when this happens and strictly forbade him from going out. But Steve is out of ice cream and fucks to give so he goes out.
He gets steadily more wasted as the night goes on. He's not even flirting with the hot bartender Chrissy. Which she thinks should feel insulted by, but just really feels sorry for him.
He's a weepy drunk and it's not long afterwards that she cuts him off before he scares off her tips.
She calls over one of their bouncers to get this guy out from under her bar.
Eddie lopes over and picks him up.
They try to get ahold of some of his other friends but they aren't answering, which considering it's well after midnight, Eddie really doesn't blame them for.
But he has a hot mess on his hands and no place to stash him. So he talks to his boss who lets him off early to take care of Steve. Who is definitely NOT sober enough to tell him his address and because he's been kicked out by his girlfriend his wallet really doesn't help (he had been staying at Robin's).
So Eddie takes him home and of course about half way up the stairs to his apartment, Steve empties his stomach EVERYWHERE. All over Eddie's boots, the stairs, but most importantly all over himself.
He manages to make it to his apartment and carefully strips him down to his underwear and socks, removing everything including some small jewelry. He throws the clothes in the washer and then sets about cleaning up any vomit that might still be on the guy and tucks him into bed.
Then he goes about cleaning the vomit up from the hall, he cleans his boots and sets them to dry on the balcony.
Then Eddie starts preparing for the this poor guy's inevitable hangover. Painkillers and water on the nightstand, phone plugged in with a spare charger he had. Wallet and keys next the jewelry in the drawer.
He puts some warm clothes in the top drawer of the dresser, towels on the toilet seat, and making sure there is coffee ready to be brewed for the guy when he wakes up.
Then he goes to sleep himself and wakes up to find the guy still out cold and he has to go to his day job. He feeds Dio his breakfast and takes him out to do his business, but when he comes back and still the guy hasn't woken up. So he types up the note and sets it on the nightstand over top of the guy's phone and heads out.
Two hours later, Steve wakes up to find the worst hangover he's ever had and that includes to the time Robin and Steve decided to do a drinking tour of the world and didn't know you were supposed to spit out after tasting.
He also almost naked and is really freaking out, hoping he didn't have some one night stand because Robin would murder him a second time, after killing him for going out when she told him not to.
Then he sees the note and his heart melts a little at being taken care of then immediately kicks up to 100mph when he realizes who his rescuer is.
The hot bouncer he flirted with the get in the club in the first place.
Shit, shit, shit.
He really needs to leave and needs all of his stuff before he can do that so he reads the note again and re-reads the last paragraph again and again.
Shower, Netflix and doggo? Hmm...
He doesn't work today, that's why he went out drinking in the first place. He could call an Uber to meet him at the main street in the note...
Or...
He could spend the day in comfort and security for once in his life.
He takes the second option and has a lovely time with Dio and messaging Robin.
She's still going to murder him but she's glad he's safe.
Then the owner of said apartment shows up and Steve is really glad he stayed.
They order in and get to know each other a bit more and when he finally gets back to his car and home, he's got a name and a number with the possibility of a date.
Robin absolutely hates his luck. Even more so when she meets Eddie because he's perfect for Steve.
It becomes her funny story at their wedding two years later.
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[heavy] sunghoon x f!reader | 2.1k words exes to lovers, second chance, angst syn. ever since you broke up with your long term boyfriend, park sunghoon, he's been heavy on your mind. foolishly, you try to move on, but seeing him at a party reminds you why you can't let him go. note. i've been wanting to start a series based on songs i've been listening to recently! this is the second and hopefully not last fic in this collection lol. also this was kinda supposed to be a implied college au but im now realizing the setting is kinda vague so imagine it as you like :)
now playing: heavy by the marías
"cause i don't wanna be in love with another, even in another life."
sipping your drink, you wished so dearly to drown out the memories that played in your head like a broken record.
you were fine. everything was fine. you told yourself what you told everyone.
you were done with park sunghoon. it was for the better.
but even the loud drunken screams from your friends and the even louder music at this party couldn't make the words in your head stop playing over and over. you closed your eyes and tilted your face to the ceiling.
...
"let's go our separate ways." your emotionless voice contrasted with your tear streaked cheeks.
"y/n, what? what do you mean?" sunghoon's voice shook with confusion.
"i mean, let's break up."
"break up? baby i'm not breaking up with you over this." he stepped forward to grab your hand but you just crossed them in front of your chest.
"i'm tired of fighting! we're clearly not right for each other." your voice almost broke at the end, making sunghoon want to cry.
"couples fight all the time, you know we've both been really stressed lately, let's talk about this another time. when we're both feeling better." he tried and tried to reason with you, but your mind was set, and both of you knew that.
...
you felt stupid, then and now. it had been one month since you'd last seen your ex boyfriend, and you were a wreck. foolishly, you'd blamed everything going wrong on him, thinking that getting rid of your relationship would alleviate your stress. but sunghoon left a gaping hole in you, and suddenly it was like you were frozen.
the pain was unbearable, bu you were stubborn. you kept your head up, moving through night and day. you were a shell of yourself, but you were still standing.
you began to go out, your friends dragging you out of your apartment in an effort to cheer you up.
you tried and tried to move on. but talking to other guys made you feel sick. they didn't have his fluffy hair, his cute and pointy smile, or his pretty voice.
tonight was the same, you nursed a drink in your arms as you tried to forget everything.
"what are you thinking about, pretty?" you opened your eyes, nearly dropping your drink in shock as you turned towards the voice. you were face to face with a taller boy. he had dark hair and even darker eyes.
"nothing." you weren't going to get into your ex with a random guy at a party.
"i'm jisung, by the way." you smiled slightly as he introduced himself, trying to be polite. he seemed sweet enough, but you wished you were doing anything but talking to a flirty guy right now.
"i'm y/n." you replied, struggling to maintain your sanity and composure with the alcohol flowing in your veins. you kept up conversation for a bit longer, making an excuse that your friend was sick so you could finally make your escape.
finding your best friend, yunah, you tapped her shoulder to get her attention away from the music.
"y/n? what's up?" she grabbed your hand as she spoke, swinging it back and forth drunkenly. you smiled, gesturing to the back door.
"gonna go sit outside, need some air." she nodded and waved as you walked away.
what neither of you saw was sunghoon. he'd arrived not more than 15 minutes ago, with his friends jake and heeseung.
"dude, is that who i think it is?" jake blurted the moment they walked through the door. the 3 boys watched you talk to some taller guy with dark blue hair. sunghoon wished he didn't care, but truthfully he couldn't look away.
you were beautiful, wrapped in a black dress. you always looked angelic to him, always making his stomach burst with butterflies.
looking at you right now, his stomach was burning with a different emotion. he was green with envy watching another guy flirt with you when you should've been with him. the only thing that quelled his dread was the look on your face. he could see from miles away how uncomfortable you were, arms crossed tensely and face painted with a fake smile, one that didn't reach your eyes.
sunghoon wanted to be a respectful ex-boyfriend. he didn't contact you. he gave you your space after your breakup, even though he knew how stupid your fight was. he loved you, enough to respect what you wanted.
but watching you duck away from the blue haired boy and walk out the back door, sunghoon couldn't stop himself. he downed the rest of his drink, wincing at the burning feeling his throat before pushing through the crowd to get to the back door.
the night air soothed the growing dread within you a bit, but you were still left with a nauseating feeling. the same one you always felt when you talked to guys that weren't him.
slumping against the fence, you held your head in your hands, combing your fingers through your hair roughly. dizzily, you crouched on the ground, wishing you could just disappear. or even better, teleport to your bed.
“y/n?” your reaction was delayed as you slowly searched for the source of the voice.
in all his glory, park sunghoon stood before you, looking down at your crouched figure with concern.
“god, sunghoon. what are you doing here?” you groaned, sincerely wishing you were just hallucinating all of this. wishing that the first time you were seeing your ex boyfriend since the breakup wasn’t when you were a drunken mess.
god, today was seriously the worst.
crouching next to you, he reached out a hand to move some of your hair from your face. he leaned in front of you so he could see your face, while you stubbornly trained your eyes at the ground.
you were scared that if you even made eye contact with him for too long, everything would fall apart.
“are you okay? how much did you drink?” he spoke softly, his voice melting in your ears and warming your chest.
you wanted to cry, throat tightening at the feeling of him doting on you. you didn’t say anything, just nodding.
sunghoon could tell you didn’t want to be there just as much as he didn’t. normally, on a night like this, the two of you would be watching a movie together or baking or just laying in his bed and scrolling through one of your phones.
“do you wanna leave?” he asked, hand falling onto your shoulder and rubbing small circles. you nodded again, pushing your hands on the ground to stand up. you didn’t let sunghoon help you as he stood up, stumbling slightly as you stood up fully.
as the two of your walked out the back entrance, you looked at the boy in confusion as he began walking in the same direction as you.
“i’m not leaving you alone out here, let me make sure you get home.” you looked back at the ground, mumbling back a small okay and thank you, trying to ignore the words threatening to spill from your lips.
the walk to your apartment was filled with a thick silence, the only audible noises being the hum of the streetlights. A rough gust of wind caused your skin to fill with goosebumps, the cold breeze hugging your frame.
sunghoon noticed, almost quicker than you did. wordlessly, he dropped his leather jacket over your shoulders. you knew you should protest, but to be truthful, you missed him more now than ever.
when you didn't say anything or move at all, sunghoon stepped in front of you, gently unwrapping your arms and putting them into the sleeves of his jacket for you.
you stared at the cracked sidewalk, heavy tears threatening to fall from your eyes. his jacket was warm, and so big that you were practically swimming in it. his hands were warm too. and so was his voice, as he softly asked you if you were feeling less chilly.
you still refused to utter a word, not out of stubbornness but out of fear that your voice would betray you. after everything you did, after how bad you hurt him, sunghoon was still here, walking you home and taking care of you like he always did. like nothing had changed.
"y/n." sunghoon spoke a little louder, tilting your chin up so you looked him in the eye. "i said are you cold?"
the end of his question died in the back of his throat as your teary eyes came into view. he dropped his hand, eyebrows furrowing with worry.
"hey, hey, what happened?" his voice instantly softened. you couldn't do anything but shake your head, the tears finally trailing down your cheeks. sunghoon's thumb made contact with your cold cheek, wiping away the tears as the fell.
"y/n, please, tell me what's wrong." he almost sounded defeated, voice laced with concern that made you want the earth to swallow you whole. your chest ached.
"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, hoon." his head tilted in confusion at your apologies. he opened his mouth to respond.
"why are you apologizing?" you sniffled, tears still wetting your pink cheeks.
"im so stupid. i pushed you away because i just hated fighting and i thought that was the only way to make things better. but i can't-" you voice broke slightly and you took a second to breathe in. your eyes were screwed shut, refusing to look at sunghoon.
"i can't see myself with anyone else. i don't want to see myself with anyone else. any guy i talk to i just compare to you and it makes me feel sick. i know i can't but i've been trying so hard to move on because i'm scared that you hate me for hurting you and being so dumb." when you slowly opened your eyes, sunghoon pulled you into his chest.
your cheek was pressed against his white shirt, tears wetting the fabric as he held you tightly. he shoved his face into your hair, breathing in and relishing the feeling of you in his arms again.
"sunghoon?" you asked, voice muffled by his chest.
"i could never hate you." he mumbled into your hair. he pulled away and you saw him smiling, eyes crinkling as he tucked a strand of your hair away and wiped the last of your tears. your nose and cheeks were red both from the cold and from crying; sunghoon thought you looked adorable.
"for the past month haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. about us. how i should’ve fought harder to make you stay.” he laughed dryly as he spoke. “the only reason i even went to that party was because i might get to see you again.”
more than anything, it warmed sunghoon’s heart to see how much you still cared for him. all this time he was scared he was the only one still hung up on your relationship.
“i love you so much, i don’t care if we fight or if we go through a few rough patches. i only want you.” his voice softened slightly and he looked at you like you were the only two people in the world.
“you’re not mad at me?” you mumbled, hand crinkling the fabric of his tshirt as you clutched his side. shaking his head, he grinned.
“why would i be? you came back to me.” you smiled for what felt like the first time that night, hand instinctively covering your face. sunghoon pulled your hand down, wanting to see your shy smile. he loved when you were like this, shy and bashful. it made his heart nearly explode in his chest.
“can i kiss you?” he asked, intertwining your hands. you nodded gently, closing your eyes as sunghoon leant closer to you.
his lips were warm and soft, just like you remembered. your mouths fit together like puzzle pieces, molding to each other perfectly. sunghoon’s arms slipped under his jacket that you were still wearing, hands wrapping around your waist.
you were flush against his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your skin and his teeth sink into your bottom lip. as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, you swore to yourself that you’d never let park sunghoon go again.
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