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jackrrabbit · 4 years ago

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communal property [pt. 1] /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou (18+)

Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijima—his food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too? [Part 2]

A/N: The ‘you deserve two boyfriends’ meme but make it college AU. Y'all don’t even know how excited I got about this…it’s embarrassing…but ngl this is the good kush 😌

Tags/warnings: college AU, baby’s first poly relationship, soft??, exhibitionism, Tendou is a tiny bit shady with that sharing is caring mentality

They really do share everything, so you guess it makes sense that they end up sharing you.

At first—meaning, when you first start dating Tendou and Ushijima is just his intimidatingly hot roommate who seems like he’s constantly glaring at everyone—you think it’s weird. They have the same major and every semester when they enroll, Tendou plans their schedules so they can take at least half of their classes together. He texts Ushijima to set up times for lunch and dinner so they can eat in the cafeteria together, they meet up to walk to volleyball practice together, and (even before Tendou brings up the poly thing) Ushijima’s usually around when you’re with him.

They share stuff, too, not just their schedules. Their dorm suite (which is about 10 times nicer than the regular rooms on the same floor—it’s student athlete privilege, and yes, you’re bitter about it) is littered with items that always seem to fall under collective ownership. Boxes of energy bars and whey protein powder lining up the walls in neat stacks; medals and trophies and flags from high school volleyball; the singular bottle of body wash and the accompanying 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner they keep in their bathroom—all of it belongs to both of them. You ask Ushijima once if there’s anything he wouldn’t share with Tendou, and he has to think for a while before answering.

“My toothbrush,” he says seriously. “But if he asked, I would let him use it.”

They’re close enough to the same size that they can share clothes sometimes, and since they have a single closet with no system of organization, it’s really hard to tell whose is whose. This gets you in trouble when you start dating Tendou—if you think about it, it might be the reason the three of you ended up together in the first place.

The jersey incident, as you refer to it in your mind later on, occurs a few weeks into your relationship, when Tendou’s at an away game for the weekend and he leaves you a voicemail telling you he misses you. Everything’s new and shiny and you like hearing that he hates having to be away from you, so you dig his old high school jersey out of the back of his closet for the sole purpose of taking a racy pic to send to him. It’s gigantic on you—figures, since Tendou is stupid tall for some reason—but you tie up the hem under your tits and let it slip off of your bare shoulders and the effect is pretty cute.

And hey, you figure you may as well go all the way and dress up to cheer your boyfriend on, so you beg your roommate to let you borrow the ‘slutty cheerleader’ costume she wore on Halloween: itty bitty pleated white skirt, thigh high socks, hair tied up in pigtails and sparkly white pom-poms to complete the look. You put your camera on auto-timer and take way too many pictures, and when you’re decently satisfied with the results, you send them to Tendou along with your usual good luck, I’m cheering for you! text before the game.

It takes him about one minute to respond.

> holy fuck (y/n)

> jesus

> r u trying to make me cum in my fucking pants

> Attachment: 1 image

It’s a blurry selfie of him in his team uniform, substantial dick print clearly visible through the shorts. You flush, grin, and preen at your ability to give your boyfriend a hard-on from hundreds of miles away without even showing that much.

Unfortunately, that’s not all.

> where did u even get that shirt? u know its wakatoshis not mine right lol

< Wait, are you joking? you ask back, horror dawning on you as you twist around in front of a mirror to check the number on the back. Did you actually just send your boyfriend a sexy picture wearing his roommate’s shirt? You don’t want to believe it, but sure enough the back of the jersey reads SHIRATORIZAWA 1. You may be clueless when it comes to volleyball, but you’re pretty certain that 1 is the captain’s number, and Tendou was not the captain of his high school team. Shit!

> ya lmao mines at home, thats definitely wakatoshis

< OMG no!!! please don’t tell him 😰 You immediately pull the jersey off and bury your face in your pillow as your roommate looks on curiously. Knowing Tendou, you’re never going to live this down.

> dw abt it

> he thinks its hot lol

You can actually feel the blood draining out of your face. < WHAT!! You showed it to him???

> hes sitting right next to me😂😂 dont be mad please baby

< I hate you so much Tendou I’m seriously going to kill you

> wakatoshi looks all flustered, wanna see?

< No I hate you

Tendou sends the picture anyway. Ushijima does not look flustered in the least. He looks as serious and vaguely annoyed as he does every time you see him, and all you can think about is the fact that your boyfriend’s best friend saw you wearing that stupid cheerleading outfit and his old jersey and he probably thinks you’re a moron.

You refuse to answer any of Tendou’s texts until he comes back and apologizes sincerely. You can’t look Ushijima in the eye for way too long. And despite many requests, you absolutely do not let Tendou fuck you in the cheerleader costume.

Weeks later—ages—you’re sitting one of the dryers in the laundry room quizzing Ushijima on terms for your upcoming biochem test while he folds his clothes, and you lose your train of thought when you see the accursed Shiratorizawa jersey in his hands. You’ve always felt awkward over that stupid photo, but you decide now is as good a time as any to get it out in the open and lighten the mood.

“Hey, do you remember that time I thought that was Tendou’s? You know, when I…sent him that picture… He said you might’ve seen it by accident.” Your voice trails off, but you’re impressed at how well you’re faking nonchalance.

The dryer churns under your thighs and somewhere behind you there’s another student humming Kendrick while they fold their clothes. You keep your gaze firmly glued to the flashcards you’re going through so you don’t have to make eye contact, but out of the corner of your eye you can see Ushijima stop folding the jersey and look up at you. “Ah… Tendou showed it to me.”

That little shit. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was kinda hoping you’d forgotten by now.”

“I didn’t.”

His voice is closer than you thought and you look up reflexively. Ushijima is standing in front of you. He’s so big, you think despite the fact that this is not exactly a revelation (honestly, you think it every time you see him). His face looks the same as usual, but there’s a charge in the air. Some kind of tension, the kind you’re used to in different contexts but you barely recognize here because Ushijima is your boyfriend’s roommate.

You know you look like a mess (it’s midterm season and you’re too busy to do your own laundry) and the only reason you’re even here is that you and Ushijima are in the same biochem section and he is 100% definitely going to fail without your help, but somehow all of that falls away and you don’t feel like you’re sitting in the basement laundry room with ugly fluorescent lights flickering above you and half a dozen other students milling around. The way Ushijima is looking at you isn’t the way a guy looks at ‘some girl who’s dating his friend’ or whatever.

“I’m not going to forget,” he continues.

He’s watching you like instead of sitting on a dryer in sweats and a dingy old camp t-shirt, you’re wearing the same slutty cheerleader costume from the photo: made up like a beauty queen, pom-poms in hand, tits pushed up against the loose fabric of the jersey you’re wearing that’s about half a second away from falling off entirely. His jersey. Ushijima’s eyes move over you and you have to fold your legs and for some reason the thought crosses your mind that he’s about to kiss you, and no, of course that doesn’t make sense, but as soon as you think it you can’t stop thinking about it.

He’s going to kiss you. He’s going to kiss you. Ushijima’s going to kiss you.

He reaches forward and you shy away at the last second—only to feel like an world-class idiot once again when his hand closes around the stack of index cards at your side. “Heterotroph hypothesis,” he says flatly.

You breathe out a quick sigh, trying to feel relieved and not the tiniest bit let down. “Uhh…early life forms—something about the first life form, right? They couldn’t produce their own food, so they were heterotrophs…”

Ushijima flips the card around to read the back. “Correct.” And that’s that.

///

You didn’t start going out with Tendou thinking that you’d end up in a throuple with the two stars of your college’s volleyball team, but honestly, it’s not like there aren’t signs.

The jersey incident is the first, unless you count the fact that most of the stuff Tendou invites you to do is stuff he’s already doing with Ushijima. Late night study date at the library? You show up and Tendou’s there with Ushijima already, the two of them claiming an entire 6-person table with their papers strewn out everywhere, disagreeing about the meaning of one of the practice exam answers (they’re usually both wrong). Coffee date before class? Tendou’s late, but it’s cool because you can tell he literally sprinted to meet you at your favorite bench on campus, bringing with him you the iced coffee you asked for along with his ever-present roommate. It takes some getting used to, but you like Ushijima so you don’t mind.

Sometimes you think it’s weird that they’re friends. Other than being tall and playing volleyball, they really don’t have much in common. Ushijima has to be the polar opposite of your goofy, cheerful boyfriend, who can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life…then again, maybe that’s why they’re so close? You know through Tendou that there are a lot of people on the team who respect Ushijima, but it seems like it’d be hard to develop an actual friendship with the guy. Figures that Tendou—who doesn’t give up when he’s interested in someone, as you can attest to firsthand—would be Ushijima’s closest and oldest friend.

They’re not all different, though. You discover a third similarity between the two of them when you go to their first home game and see them really play for the first time: talent. It’s crazy—you’ve never been into sports, but you don’t need to be to see how good they are at what they do. The ball moves so fast you barely understand what’s going on, but there’s no mistaking how often the announcer says each of their names as they score point after point after point.

You learn a lot of things at that match: what a ‘guess blocker’ is, what Tendou’s face looks like when he scores (it’s pretty similar to his sex face—is that weird or cute??), and that Ushijima is one of the best spikers in Japan. The way he slams the ball down into the opposing team’s court doesn’t even look real sometimes. You keep wondering if the volleyball is going to pop like a balloon under the force of his hand.

After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima leaving the locker room in the stadium. You’re still pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you don’t even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. “How was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!”

“You did, you so did—“ Even though your throat hurts, you can’t help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. “—and then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you just—“ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. “Wha-bam!—and the look on his face, I thought he was going to punch you!”

Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. “You really liked it that much? I thought you weren’t into sports.”

“I loved it! You were so cool! I can’t believe I’m dating someone so cool!” You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). “And I’m not into sports, I’m into you.”

Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except he’s probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.

You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never seems to care) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. “And you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good. It was super loud when you hit the ball—wait, are your hands okay? If I hit something that hard I’d probably break a finger.”

“My hands are fine…this is normal for me.”

But just because you’ve got them here in front of you and you’re still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you can’t help grabbing Ushijima’s hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, there’s no redness, just the calluses he’s built up on his long fingers. “Wow.”

“You don’t need to worry about Wakatoshi,” Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. “He’s a monster, he can handle it.”

“No kidding. You’re both monsters.” You put the base of your palm up against Ushijima’s to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendou’s fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijima’s are…thicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kid’s in comparison. “Can I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, I’d probably cry.”

You’re (mostly) joking, but it’s still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijima’s mouth curl up a tiny bit. You’ve known each other for months at this point, but you’ve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made him smile!

“Don’t sell yourself short, (Y/N).” Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.

“Yeah…” Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. “I’m sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?”

So that’s probably a sign.

It’s not the first. And it’s definitely not the last. Tendou drops plenty of hints that the two of you should actually be the three of you; you just don’t get it. You don’t even get it when he forgets to lock the dorm room door a few times while the two of you fuck in between classes—he’s got you sitting on his face, whining, whimpering, panting his name while he slithers his long tongue over your clit, and Ushijima just…opens the door and walks in.

You tense up, and not just because Ushijima is witnessing what you look like naked and getting ate out like your pussy is a five course meal with extra dessert—you tense up because you’re about to cum, the kind of climax where you couldn’t stop it if you tried. And you try, you try to hold back, you try to lift your soaking wet cunt off of Tendou’s mouth, but your thighs are too weak and anyway he’s holding you down right in place to tongue-fuck you into literal oblivion—

—so you can’t help it, okay? You can’t help locking eyes with Ushijima, who looks completely dazed at what he just walked into and you can’t help panting out his name because it’s the only fucking thing in your stupid fucking brain— “U—shi—ji—ma?” you gasp, and then you’re squeaking and you’re tipping over that edge and your cunt is quivering around the slick muscle of Tendou’s tongue inside, goddamnit you are going to kill him for not locking that door, except who cares because he’s still licking and you’re writhing in his grip with his fingertips pushing into the fat of your thighs while he keeps you in place, and your boyfriend’s roommate is looking at you!—

And then Ushijima disappears out of the bedroom and you hear the door of the bathroom slam shut. Tendou’s grip eases, and he rolls to the side on his narrow twin bed to make room for you to fall back down flat onto it.

“You…didn’t lock the door.”

“No way,” he laughs, wiping his mouth. “Wakatoshi has a key, y’know. It’s his room too.”

The most annoying part is that Tendou does not look the least bit remorseful. You growl and attempt to push him off the edge of the bed with your foot (unsuccessfully). “You could’ve put a sock on the doorknob! Or texted him!”

“Aw, come on. We sexile him so often I feel bad…I thought he’d be out for longer.” Tendou rubs a circle on your back, still suppressing laughter, but that doesn’t help your frayed nerves.

“He saw—everything! He totally saw me cum, and I said his freaking name—“ You roll onto your stomach and stuff your face in Tendou’s pillow to muffle a scream. “Oh my god. I want to die. I wish we could get struck by lightning right now.”

“It’s okay, babe! It’s not that big a deal, I promise.”

You glare at Tendou, who inexplicably seems to believe what he’s saying. “Shouldn’t you be jealous or something? Another guy saw me naked.”

“Wellll…I’d be jealous if it wasn’t Wakatoshi.”

Ugh, what is that supposed to mean? You frown, irrationally annoyed at the implication that Ushijima would have zero interest in your naked body. “Yeah, I get it, he doesn’t see me like that. But it’s still embarrassing.”

“…You think Wakatoshi doesn’t see you like that?” Tendou shifts himself to hover over you, smirking down at your body. “He went to the bathroom, right? …What do you think he’s doing in there?”

What is Ushijima doing in the bathroom? You can hear the shower running through the thin wall between the two rooms. It’s the middle of the day, and he didn’t come from the gym. “He’s showering?”

“Hm…so Wakatoshi came in and saw you—“ Tendou punctuates this with a kiss on the side of your neck and you shudder. “You, the hottest girl on the fucking planet. Naked. Cumming. And you said his name.”

“Um—it was an accident...” Fuck, you shouldn’t be letting Tendou mess around with you while Ushijima’s probably like six inches away through the wall, but you have a bad habit of getting caught up in Tendou’s pace.

“You did. You moaned Ushijima all sexy—you know how sexy your voice sounds when you cum?” Tendou sighs and slides his hand up your inner thigh, hooking it over his hip. “Wakatoshi hasn’t heard a girl moaning his name in a while. What he’s doing right now…he probably can’t help himself.”

“So you think he’s—“ You bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut and try to stop yourself from picturing Ushijima in the shower, water dripping over those perfect muscles while he…um…does some self-care. “Oh my god.”

“Aww, you like that? Me and Wakatoshi both want to fuck you…that makes you horny, yeah?” You can feel Tendou shuffling with his sweatpants and pulling his cock out to line it up with your bare tummy while he layers kisses over your cheeks and gropes one of your tits. “We should give him something to jack off to… I bet he can hear everything. I bet he’s dying to hear what that cute little voice sounds like when my dick is stuffed up you instead of my tongue…”

No. Nope, nope, no way. Tendou’s too fucking good at this. Your pussy is twitching—dripping your juices sticky all over your thighs, but you also feel like you might spontaneously combust if he keeps talking. “I—I have to go back to my room,” you blurt before you can change your mind.

Tendou blows out a low sigh, then laughs and falls back to the side and pushes his hand through his hair like he never really meant any of it. “If you insist, princess.”

“You better apologize to him for me,” you say, rolling your eyes as you wiggle back into the pair of shorts you abandoned on the ground.

“Sure, okay. But the option’s open! Believe me, Wakatoshi wouldn’t mind.”

Wouldn’t mind what? you think. Somehow the obvious answer escapes you.

That is, until you meet them for dinner a week later (you’ve been avoiding Ushijima, and by extension you’ve been avoiding your boyfriend too) and Tendou decides that it’s time to be upfront, so as you’re sitting across from them at the booth in the dining hall trying to sneak leftovers into your backpack because you’re running out of meal points, he just comes out and says it.

“So (Y/N)— have you ever heard of polyamory?”

➠ [Part 2]

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #ushijima x reader #tendou x reader #hq x reader #hq imagines #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #tendou satori #tendou satori x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! imagines #jackrrabbit.updates

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aerosiderwrites · 4 years ago

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Observation ... Yandere Albedo x Reader

Yandere Albedo x Reader, implied potential Sucrose x Reader Albedo has been observing you meticulously, and yet someone still has managed to slip past. warnings for genre typical unhealthy portrayal of relationships, and implied stalking. this one is pretty light though ngl

Word Count: 1k

There he was, and there were you. The library was largely empty, and its silence emphasized by your occasional page turn. You sat leaned back in one of the very few leisurely chairs in the library, all of your concentration fixed on the novel in your hands. Your expressions changed slightly as the intensity your eyes were barely skimming the words. Your breathing and heartbeat behaved as if the events of the novel were happening to you yourself, and Albedo watched with vested interest.

He had found the book he had been looking for a while ago, but he still stood in an aisle, a far distance away that if you happened to look up and to your left, he could potentially manage to play it off. In the times he spent observing you, he rarely got the opportunity to see you in such a quiet moment, and he didn’t want to miss a thing.

Albedo found himself pretending to skim a selection of books a shelf closer, then two. He inched closer, and wondered to himself if you would tell him what you were reading if he asked. From previous observations, he had seen how you put on that kind smile you wore like jewels, adorning yourself so to charm those around you. But the true question lied in whether or not you were truly bothered.

He stood, and continued to watch, letting himself be stuck in a loop of whether or nor to speak to you. You continued to read on, oblivious to him. Your focus seemed far less pointed now, your eyes moving slower as you savored what Albedo could only assume was a slower scene. Done with his game of 4D chess with a mental interpretation of you, he let out a sigh and took a single step to approach you.

“Oh, h-hello [Y/N],” Sucrose’s voice rang clearly, startling Albedo from his movements to approach.

You looked up at Sucrose and smiled, “Hey Sucrose, what’s up?”

Sucrose’s cheeks went pink, and quickly looked to the book in your hands, ”I was curious, m-may I ask what are you reading?”

Albedo continued to pretend to peruse, but now different questions filled his mind. He glanced over, the image of you sat up, your attention on his student. Sucrose stood in front of you, her hands fidgeting with themselves, a habit of hers that Albedo knew she did when she was especially nervous. He moved further away, his decision to watch instead of engage now set in stone.

“I’m on a second book in a series called Heart’s Desire,” you explained, lifting the book off of your lap to show Sucrose the cover, “Lisa recommended it to me.”

As expected, you kindly responded to inquiries, your pleasant voice patient with the person who interrupted you. Albedo still felt frustrated that he couldn’t provide the control in this interaction.

“Ah, how d-do you like it?” Sucrose squeaked out. Her behavior was reminiscent of when Sucrose first sought out Albedo’s tutelage, how she stood as still as she could force herself to, and forced herself to say what she needed to. The implications put a pit in his stomach.

“So far it’s really good,” you said, taking a small bookmark from a spot many pages earlier and placing it on the current page and closing the book.

“I-I’m sorry for interrupting, I didn’t mean to stop you.” Sucrose stepped back, prepared to make an exit.

You raised your hands to stop her, “No, it’s alright, I was at a good stopping point, I’ve been in here for hours.” Your explanation relaxed Sucrose a bit, so you continued. “I have to check out this book from Lisa, but when I’m done I’m heading to Good Hunter to order some food, do you want to come with?”

“Oh, um, I-I have a book I’m looking for though, I don’t want to make you wait up—“

“I’m okay with waiting, I’d like your company,” you reassured.

Albedo felt his skin crawl. He scowled and forced his eyes away from the scene. You were nice, but there was a tenderness to your voice that he hadn’t heard you use to address anyone he’s seen you interact with.

He quietly walked towards Lisa’s desk. He felt he had heard enough, and the way he felt suddenly so resentful towards Sucrose startled him. He hadn’t told Sucrose that he had been studying you, so he knew the rage that began to simmer wasn’t warranted.

He relaxed his expression enough to speak to Lisa to check out the book he had been holding in a vice grip for the past several minutes. He went through the motions of signing the registry, and entertaining Lisa’s small talk. It wasn’t until you reached the corner of his peripheral that he gets out of his head.

“Hey guys,” You give a small wave and smile in greeting to both Albedo and Lisa. Lisa lazily waves back, getting herself comfortable in her chair, preparing for an early evening nap.

“Hello [Y/N].” Albedo’s vocal delivery betrayed none of his turmoil, but he felt his entire body grow stiff as you stand nearly shoulder to shoulder with him to sign your book out. He watched, acutely aware of your proximity. He found himself at a loss of words, not an uncommon occurrence when faced with your direct presence. He had so much to ask, but he forced himself to take his leave.

He knew where you’d be at least, he could visit Timaeus and take notes on you… with Sucrose. His jaw clenched, frustrated at his student’s interference. He didn’t allow himself to remain caught up in the disappointment and jealousy that Sucrose approached you before he could. Perhaps this could provide a better lead into what you like. As long as Sucrose didn’t get too close.

Today had delayed his approach, but Albedo’s determination remained fervent.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere albedo #yandere albedo x reader #aerosiderwriting #its done! time to post in the middle of the night hehe

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ushidoux · 4 years ago

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Not Enough - Oikawa (Haikyuu) x Reader x Gojo (JJK)

Summary: Your relationship with Oikawa feels more like a curse than anything else as it comes to a close. (~4.2k words) or tl;dr gojo is mr. steal your girl

Warnings: breakup, idk Gojo is a warning, cracky angst?, pegging mention, yandere themes

A/N: Ngl I’m patting myself on the back for making a crossover fic work somewhat LOLLLL, you can roll your eyes if you want this is hella melodramatic.

(if you wanna commission more niche things, you can always dm me <3)

---

“I-I think it’s best for us to end things here, Tooru...”

Oikawa’s fingers tightened around the cell phone in his hand at the sound of your shakily delivered proposition, and further at the abrupt pregnant pause thereafter - not because he was angry, nor afraid, but out of an all-encompassing confusion.

Two things were wrong with this situation. First of all, it was late enough for you, thousands of miles away, that he was genuinely surprised that you were still awake in the first place and the fact that your voice was thick with tears was particularly upsetting, implying that you’d been up all night before you decided to call. Second, you had to be feeling unwell because you were talking pure nonsense.

He must have not heard correctly. You wanted to ‘end things’?

End what? You and him? That couldn’t possibly happen.

Moments passed, maybe even a full minute, and Oikawa stood perfectly still in spite of the uncomfortable combination of a weightless sensation in his legs and a feverish pounding in his chest as he tried to let himself understand what you were saying. Suddenly lightheaded, he realized he had been holding his breath while you remained quiet on the other end of the line. Maybe he was hoping for you to fill the silence, but he knew you wouldn’t offer anything additional; he could tell from the single soft sniffle that betrayed your sadness.

He sucked air into his lungs.

“I... don’t know what you mean,” Oikawa replied, his voice steady even if his body wasn’t.

You continued.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s really hard… and I get so lonely, and I know it’s wrong, but sometimes it hurts to see you so happy without me…”

Your voice was smaller still, enough that he strained to hear you past the rush of blood past his temples. For a moment, he considered pretending he couldn’t hear you say such unpleasant things just so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the reality unfolding in front of him in this disdainfully sunny early afternoon, while he stood in the middle of the hallway right outside of his high rise apartment.

The fact that you had finally given up on him after all this time.

In a small way, Oikawa couldn’t blame you. While he had been gone chasing his dream, the emerging star had just as quickly been running further away from you day by day. He knew this was mostly his fault: he called you less frequently and whenever you did talk, the conversations were shorter and less substantial until you and he both felt like your interactions were a simple chore, a checkbox on his never-ending to-do list.

But yet, he could and would absolutely blame you. Long distance was hard but you had promised you’d stay by his side, hadn’t you? You’d promised him, rain or shine, through drought and storm. What could possibly be the issue now?

Even if you hurt, it would only be temporary, and he could always make up for it in full or even twice-fold. In fact, he was on his way to come see you in person this very second; it would just be mere hours before his flight would depart. Coming suddenly on holiday like this was meant to be a surprise, and his suitcase beside him was filled with gifts and souvenirs for you that would, at least partially, assuage your hurt.

At least he thought. Maybe the issue stemmed deeper, starting with the very fact that you weren’t such a fan of gifts - what you really craved was loyalty and quality time - and that too, he had chosen to ignore. Because it was easier to love you the way he wanted to love you, rather than the way you wanted to be loved.

You were often indecisive anyway. Did you ever truly know what you wanted?

“___, stop being silly. I love you -”, he paused at this last declaration for emphasis, gauging your reaction, of which you gave him none, then continued, “-and I’m coming to see you before the sun sets tomorrow,” he insisted, a stern edge in his voice to further supplant the denial that was keeping him able to breathe. Strength returning to his limbs, he resumed his path to the elevators, dragging his belongings behind him.

You were silly. You missed him and you were delirious from loneliness and sleep, and that’s why ridiculous things were coming out of your mouth, that’s all it had to be, he figured. End things? What you had was something precious and irreplaceable. Nothing could be better than what you were together.

It would be you and him for life, at least to him.

Unfortunately for you, that ideal had long since perished.

Any other time, you would have paused, your breath hitching in your throat, your heart pounding as you conjured up the image of your Tooru coming to be in your arms once more, to cross the vast distance and be yours again as it should be. He’d be quick to show you that he chose you over crowded gyms full of adoring spectators, a perfect set, the rush of victory, or a pretty Instagram model.

Any other time before, but time had run out with both you and him unsuspecting, in a flash of clear blue eyes.

---

A few months earlier...

“I’m not interested.”

Your voice was flat and so was your expression. Muttering a soft ‘excuse me’, you walked past the tall young man who had taken the fact that he’d helped you reach an item on the highest shelf (despite the fact that you were still somewhat tall, you still had struggled), as an invitation to follow you around the grocery store.

The stranger had started off indiscreetly at first, and you had to admit, when you’d passed him in the aisle, you had given him a double-take, and it wasn’t just because you were wondering how he could see the food before him with a black blindfold wrapped over his eyes, so you hadn’t thought too much of it. He was admittedly handsome - at least the lower part of his face was - and his relaxed voice and posture as he reached over and handed you your box of cereal reminded you just a smidge of your Tooru.

Your Tooru wouldn’t be caught in that nondescript dark ensemble, though.

Saying “thanks” and continuing on your merry way should have been enough. But instead, this same man had immediately started walking besides you as you pushed your cart as though he knew you, making comments about your groceries.

“I’m not particularly fond of eggs, but they’re a good source of protein.”

“You seem to have a sweet tooth, just like me!”

You probably should have been concerned about this man’s mental state, but he didn’t exactly seem harmful or delusional, just weird. But you were almost done with your shopping trip, and now he was in line with you with a single bag of chips in his hand, and it occurred to you for a while that this stranger might try to follow you home.

“Do you need something, sir?” You told him in exasperation.

He furrowed his eyebrows in mild confusion, still a smidge too close behind you and raised his bag of chips. “No, I’m fine.”

“Why are you following me?” You finally said, bolder than usual in this semi-crowded grocery store. You had had enough of being polite and you’d tried very hard so far. Today had been a long day and you just wanted to cook a meal and sleep, not argue with strangers.

“Oh, I was trying to be friendly,” he replied, shrugging, as though that were normal behavior, and thus here you were, switching lanes abruptly while making it clear to him that he needed to leave you the fuck alone.

Checking out of the store with your items occurred without incident but you had to admit you were both irritated and confused about that encounter, and again, while you didn’t exactly feel malicious intent or really any sort of ‘creepiness’ from the young man, the behavior was nevertheless alarming. You surreptitiously glanced over your shoulder just to make sure he wasn’t still in sight, only to catch him walking in the other direction, whistling again with the single bag of chips in his hand, now paid for.

Again stunned, you found yourself lost in a stare for a moment, a million questions in your head.

What was he trying to accomplish? And most importantly, how could he see with that blindfold?

What did he look like without it?

Quickly realizing your questions were getting absurd, you decided that whether he was attractive or not was a completely inconsequential thought, because the fact of the matter was that he had to be clinically insane. Absolutely.

With that thought in mind, you texted a friend briefly sparing the least salient details.

Call me in about thirty minutes if I don’t call you first. I’ll fill you in later.

Just for safety’s sake, but thankfully, you didn’t think you’d ever seen him again.

You may have brought up your odd encounter to Tooru that night, if he had managed to return your call.

---

“Go to sleep, I’ll talk to you when I land tomorrow. I love you, ____.”

Before you could protest, the line cut off abruptly and you lowered your phone to your lap. Now it was no longer just your voice wavering, but your entire body trembling as you sat over the side of your bed. You lurched forward, the pit of your stomach heavy with guilt.

Your Tooru was coming to see you and for once, he was the last person you wanted to see.

---

You had left your home a little later than usual but given that you would rather die than miss your morning coffee and croissant, you still stopped by your neighborhood bakery.

Noting that the line was a little longer than expected, you queued up, humming softly to the beats of your favorite song, not registering that the man standing before you had turned slowly in your direction and was now smiling down at you.

“Fancy seeing you here again.”

Your eyes furrowed as you looked up, then almost yelped in surprise when your eyes registered the same white-haired stranger who had stunned you at the supermarket lined up just two paces before you.

What the-

Of all the coffee shops in this city, why here? The hairs on your neck stood up on end, worse when he decided to keep speaking.

“Let me buy your coffee,” he proposed, tentatively. “Only condition is that you have to drink it with me.”

Today, the strangest of strangers almost looked normal; rather than a blindfold, his eyes were hidden by a dark pair of sunglasses and his hair had been allowed to fall into a slightly windswept cut. He was also dressed less eclectically, in a loose-necked long sleeved shirt and a pair of fitted dark jeans.

Like this, you could call him fashionable. He was definitely forward, at the very least.

He was obviously flirting and normally you would have a curt prepared answer for him, but the manner in which he leaned forward, smirking with hands on his hips, again felt too familiar. Like Tooru, who had forgotten to call you back and instead sent you a quick text that promised he’d get back to you.

If he remembered.

Before you knew it, and almost embarrassed as soon as it left your mouth, you blurted out, “I… have to go to work.”

It wasn’t a lie but for some reason it came out like one. Perhaps because what you would have normally said was, “I have a boyfriend,” without giving him a second look.

He frowned nevertheless.

“That’s too bad,” he finally said, letting out a loud sigh, excessively dramatic for the situation. You stared at him, dumbfounded, and he suddenly clasped his hands together, preparing to say something else but the barista had called for the next customer.

He made a motion for you to go before him, and flustered, you obliged, giving the barista a look that implored for help in any way he could offer it. The barista knew you well enough to ring up your order before you even asked for it, but not well enough to sense that the man behind you was actively harassing you.

“I can buy my own coffee, sir,” you murmured once you saw him rummage in his pockets and pull out his wallet while the barista went off to toast your pastry.

He grinned widely.

“Call me Satoru.”

---

“A drink for you, sir?”

The flight attendant’s voice betrayed a hint of irritation under her sweet tone of voice, hinting that she had been waiting for him to answer a while, and Oikawa realized that he had been staring at his phone for a lot longer than he expected. He flashed her his classic pearly whites before nodding, but the wheels in his head were still turning.

A mere couple of hours into the first leg of his flight back to Japan, he had taken to poring over his last few conversations with you.

Conversations that, at least from his end, had become pressured, short, and at times, he had been downright dismissive.

But he loved you - you had to understand that! It was a lot to manage: being available for you but also giving 150% of himself to the game.

So what if he missed your calls but kept his Instagram up-to-date? So what if he was a little bit too cozy with his fans (and known to be so)?

There was always you, and you were supreme. He’d do anything for you.

“Wine?” The attendant offered him the higher octave in her voice making it clear that Oikawa had managed to charm her back into her retail persona.

Maybe a glass, but he’d limit his drinking. He wouldn’t want to disappoint you when you met.

---

You were shocked.

Satoru stopped a car that was meant to crush you, and you were still trying desperately to comprehend what had just transpired.

You were possibly too eager to escape that coffee shop, to get away from the young man whose presence both unsettled your stomach and made your face grown warm, that you’d hurried out into the crosswalk, somewhat complicated drink and slightly crisped pastry in hand, and right into the path of a car hurtling through a red light.

You didn’t have time to scream or rarely even time to drop your drink, but the impact of your carelessness and preoccupation, between him, being late to work, wondering why the fuck your boyfriend had yet again forgotten to text back, never came.

Instead, the car seemed to halt to a stop almost immediately before you, before him who now stood before you with lips held into a neutral expression, and one hand in his pocket. Even if time seemed to stop for a split second, the force that should have struck your body didn’t, instead hurtling around you in a terrifying gust of wind.

But you were safe.

There was a shatter of glass windows as energy redistributed and the car took the brunt of the shock, and airbags deployed, engulfing the driver who could have possibly ended your life.

When Satoru finally turned to you slowly, looking at your cowering form, you finally caught a glimpse of piercing blue. For once he wasn’t smiling, and he was suddenly much more terrifying than anything else.

As though the mask had come off.

He didn’t ask if you were okay. Instead, he asked you to control your grief.

---

You shouldn’t be able to love anyone so much that your heart breaks repeatedly.

Something about you had to be pathological - it couldn’t be normal to feel the pain of separation this acutely. It was just a long-distance relationship, even if he was just getting more famous and less available by the day.

You shouldn’t wake up wondering if you could still breathe without him.

You shouldn’t.

---

“I’m a sorcerer,” Gojo revealed as he stirred a warm caramel latte, as though he had said the most natural thing in the world.

You tilted your head over so slightly, knit eyebrows betraying your confusion.

“... Like a circus performer?”

The repetitive turn of his wrist halted almost immediately and he looked at you, the constant smug smirk immediately awash from his features.

“Do I look like I belong in the circus?!” He half-exclaimed, half-whined, as though you were the only patrons in this bustling coffee shop. Part of you was bent on saying yes, but you kept mum yet staring at his face in distress, you find yourself stifling a giggle.

Now that he’d saved your life, you felt (and probably erroneously so) obligated to at least indulge him in coffee, and your curiosity about the young man sitting before you a whole day later now waffled between morbid and genuine.

Cursed energy? Leaking from you? Sorcery?

He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair once he realized you were more entertained by his distress than anything else, crossing his arms and raising his legs on the table. You stared at the bottom of his shoes with mild disgust but instead focused on his face.

He really was like your Tooru, the boyfriend that slipped away from your reach in your nightmares, causing you to wake in a cold sweat. You shook the thought of your head, a quick barely perceptible movement, and crossed your own arms.

“You’re sad enough that I can sense it, which despite the fact that I am obviously quite gifted, can be a bit of an issue long term.”

“Why would it be an issue to you?”

“Because grief creates spirits and spirits are a pain in my ass.”

You furrowed your eyebrows again.

“So you followed me because you thought I was sad?” It sounded far fetched enough but absolutely on brand for a weirdo like the man before you. You took a sip of your tea - you’d picked chai for this… meeting. It wasn’t a date.

He grinned, an elbow rested on the table propping up his chin as he leaned back towards you.

“No, it’s because I thought you were beautiful.” ---

For the first time in a year, Oikawa’s first step back on Japanese soil did not immediately bring him joy but anxiety.

It was odd for him to feel anxiety, this unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, but of course it would dissipate the moment he saw you.

But first, a warm shower in his new hotel room. Then he’d go to see you.

It felt odd not to have you waiting for him, your million dollar - no, priceless - smile on your face, so he could kiss you dramatically in the midst of all watching to again reassert that you are his, and his alone.

But you were upset, and understandably so.

So he would come to you, as a good boyfriend should.

---

“I have a boyfriend,” you told him immediately and indignantly, as you got up to leave. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you I’m not interested.”

He didn’t rise as fast as you did, watching you calmly instead as you balled your fists in irritation. It’s so shameless how he flirts, you thought. He’s so bold and rude and even if he’s a ‘sorcerer’ as he claims, there’s no spell that he can cast onto you that will make you leave Oikawa for him.

Not your Tooru, whose last Instagram post features a beautiful, tan, large-breasted and bikini-clad woman you’ve never met.

“Where is he then?” Satoru said in a low voice. He didn’t necessarily mean to cut but it did anyway. A lump formed in your throat.

“Overseas.”

---

The sound of chirping crickets is surprisingly loud for this part of the city, Oikawa considered, as he made his way towards your apartment building. It was an atypically warm evening for this point in the spring and he briefly mused if that is what excited them. Maybe they were cheering for him. They sounded a lot like the crowds if he closed his eyes.

He also hoped you had room for the gifts he carried with him, the most important of which was a Cartier bracelet he would hand to you once he departed, with a solid gold T for Tooru.

If he was on the search for fame and glory, he had to spoil you too, right?

To think that you were so angry with him that you had not yet contacted him since he had landed.

He knocked on your door finally, noting the shuffling of too many feet towards the door. This was the right door. He didn’t understand. Did you have friends over?

He called, and you didn’t immediately pick up.

---

“You have to leave!” You hissed. The statement was a plea and it was a command and it was a curse.

The blue of Satoru’s eyes was less electric in the dim moonlight, now more of a cool ice. Bare naked like this and barely visible save for the cracks of the illuminated city through your blinds, he was unfairly beautiful, as though he were carved out of marble. Again like your Tooru. Like, not better.

But still, he was there when Tooru wasn’t.

But Tooru was there now, knocking on your door, having traveled thousands of miles despite the fact that you had broken up with him just yesterday.

It was too little, too late.

But you didn’t love Satoru. He was just a band-aid for the loneliness that wrung agony out of you.

Right?

“I don’t want to leave,” your makeshift lover replied, flatly.

Your glare was sharp and instant, but Satoru matched your look, less pointed but unwilling to sway.

An unstoppable force, no different from the day he’d saved your life.

But he’d caused the problem in the first place, hadn’t he? Would you have run out so carelessly if not for him?

Your voice softened as you slipped on your clothes. The fight was lost before it started.

“Please? I… I can’t do this to him.”

Only a plea was left.

Your phone started to ring and your throat felt as though it would close up.

“___?”

Before you knew it, you heard your front door open and your heart dropped into your throat.

---

“What the fuck-”

Blue eyes were cruel.

Oikawa prided himself on his height but Satoru was taller, and his smirk was wide, while Oikawa’s face was ghostlike, devoid of any appreciable expression. Stunned.

“So you’re the boyfriend?” His voice dripped with mock amusement and he patted him on the shoulder before swinging open the door wide, letting Oikawa into his own girlfriend’s apartment, only to stand face to face with you whose feet seemed glued to the floor in shock.

“I.. T-Tooru..”

“Are you fucking serious?!”

His voice came out as a cry and his tears hot and fast. You never thought you’d see him crumple so fast, for you, for anything.

Your mouth opened and closed, and your hands shook but again, you stayed planted to the same spot while Satoru, still shirtless (but at least with the decency to have worn a pair of pants before answering the door), settled himself on the couch.

Before you could open your mouth to find a word to defend yourself to your sobbing boyfriend, your visitor let out an exaggerated yelp.

“____, you really showed no mercy on my asshole, did you?” he jeered. Then covering his mouth, he made a gesture of ‘Oops.’

What could you do?

Oikawa looked like he would stop breathing any second. He wanted to fight and maybe scream, but what use was that?

You had broken up with him yesterday.

You approached slowly, attempting maybe a touch, anything that would make your mistake less grievous.

You’d only been seeing Satoru for several weeks to… you weren’t sure why, really? Tooru was the one you loved. And to see him curl up like this… someone who was normally so proud...

You were disgusted with yourself.

“Tooru-”

“You said you’d wait for me.”

It was shocking how quick he rose, broken dignity, gifts and all.

“Tooru!”

He turned to leave, while Satoru contented himself on picking the earwax from his ears. It was easier to be like this, insufferable, than to gracefully accept the idea that his object of affection loved someone else.

He’d coveted you from the day he’d met you.

“Tooru!!!”

You were running after a man who gave 150% to everything, yet again.

Everything but you.

But had he at the very least given you 100%? You weren��t sure.

Oikawa was the last person who could accept the thought of someone else. You weren’t sure if he’d call you ever again. You weren’t even sure you wanted to break up.

Cursed energy. Maybe you didn’t just leak cursed energy. Maybe you were just cursed.

Heart shattering to pieces once Oikawa was no longer within view, you made it back to your room. Satoru was there waiting, and you couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but his arms were open, and so you fell into them.

#oikawa x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #commission work #crossover fic #haikyuu x reader #jjk x reader #haikyuu x jjk #mae.writing

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makeste · 4 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 292: You Say Jeans

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “well anyway here’s that Touya reveal I foreshadowed like a million years ago, viva la 2020.” Dabi was all “hello world, I’ve killed 30 people and today I’m going to explain to you all why” before he proceeded to explain ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but everyone was so distracted by his tale of child abuse and hero conspiracies that they didn’t much seem to notice. Can’t Ya See-Kun’s Shark Friend was all “IS THIS THE END OF HERO SOCIETY AS WE KNOW IT”, and Horikoshi was all “STAY TUNED”, and then Dabi set himself on fire and leaped off of Machia’s back like the chaotic evil, I-just-bleached-all-my-brain-cells weird little fire man he is, ready to burn everyone to crispy bits before they could even react properly to his whole big revenge speech. Fortunately he did not succeed on account of THE RETURN OF THE JING, THE JOAT, BEST FUCKING JEANIST, back from the dead by popular demand in what critics are calling “the best fucking comeback since Jesus himself.”

Today on BnHA: Best Jeanist snatches up Machia and the rest of the League with his fiber steel cables before you can say “more like BEAST JEANIST amirite.” Dabi gets all worked up and lights Hadou on fire which is a real JERK MOVE, and is all “THIS RIGHT HERE IS ALSO ENDEAVOR’S FAULT”, which, NOT SUPER CONVINCED ON THAT, BUT OKAY. Anyway so then he burns up all the cables holding him which is crazeballs btw, and then he and Shouto start fighting, and so basically the whole thing is a literal hot mess and we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile Tomura wakes up and summons some Noumus, and poor Jeanist has to deal with those on top of the still-attempting-to-rampage Gigantomachia, and everyone else is all “we can’t help you on account of we’re all half dead”, and so it’s looking really bad. And then -- and I can’t stress enough how much I don’t even have the faintest idea how to segue into this next part -- the chapter ends with Mirio!?! just sort of POPPING UP OUT OF THE GROUND all, “SURPRISE, BITCH”, and it literally was so surprising that I am still just kind of speechless. WELL-PLAYED, I GUESS, lol wtf.

lol okay so the first page in the RHA scan is just the “three musketeers” movie promo image that we all already saw a few days ago. but it does confirm that (a) it is indeed a movie, and (b) that it’s set for a summer 2021 release! how exciting

okay so now back to our special Dabi edition of Making a Murderer

“ray of hope” oh hell yes. SAVE US MR. JEANIST

I guess he had a TV in his private hero jet or something?

gotta say, “dammit Dabi” does not even remotely sound like Authentic Best Jeanist Dialogue to me though. gonna need Caleb to see to this. well but what do you guys think? does Best Jeanist curse?? I personally feel like he’s one of those guys who NEVER EVER swears no matter what, except under the most hilariously trifling circumstances. like he’s eating an avocado one day and he accidentally stains the cuffs of his beloved jostume green and he’s all “FUCK”

btw how fucking rich is Best Jeanist though that he has his own fucking plane? the thought just suddenly occurred to me, you know? like even Endeavor, whose agency has its own on-site luxury apartment suites for all of his interns, still drives around in a dinky little car that Bakugou has declared to be too small. which, I guess we know why he felt that way now, seeing as the guy he previously interned with apparently gets around in Jeans Force One

anyway so back to the part where Jeanist shows up to save the day!! YEAH JEANIST WOOOOO

ILU JEANIST YOU REALLY ARE THE BEST!! HUGS AND KISSES!!!

lmao we just saw Gigantomachia take out like a hundred guys not ten chapters ago. and Best Jeanist shows up and takes him down in like two seconds. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES LEAGUE OF VILLAINS. BET YOU’RE WISHING YOU’D TAKEN HIS QUIRK NOW, AFO. GET FUCKED YOU OLD SPUD

KACCHAN IS SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AWW

SIDE NOTE, IIDA, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS LATER ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY AGREEING TO PUT HIM BACK DOWN. YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHILD IS STILL DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE FROM HIS MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS, RIGHT? WAY TO ASSERT YOUR AUTHORITY THERE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE CLASS PRESIDENT NOT THE CLASS CLOWN, COME ON NOW

LMAO DABI IS FRANTICALLY TRYING TO DO THE PLOT MATH

SHOULDA CHECKED MORE CLOSELY MY GOOD MARK. LOOKS LIKE YOU MISSED THE “MADE IN CHINA” STICKER ON THE BOTTOM. YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. OR ACTUALLY, I GUESS THE MORE ACCURATE WORD HERE IS JAMBOOZLED, AHAHAHAHA. JEANS

HOLY SHIT DABI

I legit almost thought that was Tomura for a second. you two look so alike now with the white hair and the crazy eyes

meanwhile, Shouto is still crying and it’s a lot to take, you guys. lotta feels

ffff come on Jeanist you better do something awesome again here, the mood of the chapter is starting to slip now

YES, GOOD, THAT’LL WORK

WELL YOU TELL ME, SPINNER. I GUESS THAT MEANS BEST JEANIST IS OFFICIALLY THE STRONGEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES NOW. SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

ffff now Spinner is trying to wake Tomura back up. nah, how’s about we not do that

OH MY GOD HADOU YESSSS

MY GIRL OUT HERE WITH THE “NO THANK YOU” BOUT TO CURBSTOMP THE BIG BAD WITH HER QUIRK KSFHLKLK WHO HERE HAD “HADOU SAVES THE DAY” ON YOUR WAR ARC BINGO CARDS, YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!!

HEY!!!!

fucking son of a... fffkfkff... someone please reassure me that fire isn’t Hadou’s weakness. someone. anyone. also could someone please dial an ambulance and send them to Horikoshi’s house. but not just yet. first I’m gonna need you to wait about fifteen minutes or so while I take care of some things

well all right then, Dabi. so you wanna go on then and explain to us all how this, too, is somehow Endeavor’s fault?

oh I see, you’ve decided that since he’s responsible for “creating” you, everyone you hurt and kill is in truth really being hurt and killed by him! well now, that sure is convenient as fuck I guess

(ETA: that’s a nice effect with the panel sides getting all warped by Dabi’s quirk though, just noticed that.)

amazing how quickly you used up that sympathy card my guy. Shouto please kick his ass, I’m fucking done lol, you can all sort out the rest in therapy later

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIAL BACK DEKU’S EMPATHY STATS JUST A LITTLE BIT, HOLY --

“TODOROKI-KUN IS HURT THE MOST”, HE SAYS, WITH HIS ARM BONES SHATTERED INTO LITTLE TOOTHPICK-SIZED PIECES. I MEAN, HE’S PROBABLY TALKING MORE ABOUT MENTAL ANGUISH GIVEN THE CONTEXT HERE, BUT STILL. THAT’S ENOUGH HEROICS FROM YOU ALREADY FOR ONE DAY

NOOO JEANIST

LOTS OF SMOKE IN THE AIR RIGHT ABOUT NOW AND MY BOY’S STILL DOWN A LUNG. GOD DAMMIT

“if the number one suffers a total loss here, this country will fall to pieces” well okay, real talk though, I think the “country falling to pieces” part is pretty much unavoidable at this juncture. you all are just gonna have to try your best to pick up those pieces after the fact and see what you can do with them. if I were you I’d be less worried about the number one’s reputation and more concerned with the half-dozen child soldier interns who are still on the field and very much at risk of being burned to death should you suffer that “total loss.” please try to keep it together here for them

OH FOR FUCK’S

I really thought RockLockRock was gonna come into play here. USE YOUR QUIRK TO LOCK THE ROPES IN PLACE YOU DIP!! if he seriously just sits there and does nothing when his quirk could be the deciding factor I am cancelling his useless ass cute kid or no cute kid shfkjdls

(ETA: is he even there?? did he and Manual just hightail it out of there?? “well good luck, children.”)

also, we’ll put this aside for now to perhaps speculate about later, but what’s with Tomura remembering his dad’s house yet again in that far right panel?? and being itchy again?? I still have yet to fully work out the psychological mechanisms at work as far as his itchiness goes, so I’ll admit this is intriguing to me. it seemed like it was connected to his decay quirk, but then why is it acting up again now. what is this lol

yuh oh

forgot about these guys. looks like these heroes aren’t having such a fun time

oh fucksticks

excuse me ma’am but I don’t like this. you do know that my kids are all there, right. all burnt and impaled and broken-boned and the like. well except for Iida. he’s fine still. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL LIKE WATCHING HIM GET TORN APART BY FOUR HIGH ENDS, WTF

HORIKOSHI YOU MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

god fucking... okay look. Horikoshi. you win, okay!? congratulations, you win, this is your show and we’re all just sitting here at your mercy. fine. go ahead and just kill off everyone ever, then!! what am I even gonna do about it. stop reading?? fuck

this whole thing really went from zero to fucked before I could even blink huh. I really thought this was gonna be a turning point chapter for the heroes. shows what I know I guess??

meanwhile this motherfucker is just SCREAMING

ngl, if I wasn’t currently terrified on account of things suddenly taking such a drastic turn for the worse, this would be the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jeanist my man, I hype you up like it’s my job because you are the greatest fucking meme character in the history of time, but make no mistake, you are also highkey WORTH ALL THE HYPE AND THEN SOME

seriously, though. don’t fucking mind him you guys, he’s just standing here in the coolest pose of all time taking on Gigantomachia all alone with one fucking lung because the substance pumping through his veins is COLD-BLOODED LIQUID DENIM, and DENIM FEELS NO FEAR

Best Jeanist really needs to get his own theme song. -- oh my god I just finally thought of a title for this post. lmao and it’s the dumbest thing. omg

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKI BROS ARE OFF IN THEIR OWN DRAMATIC LITTLE FIRE WORLD

which one do you think is the Mario and which is the Luigi. well, but I mean, Dabi clearly thinks that he’s the Luigi though and that’s why he’s so mad. nobody wants to be Luigi. what a life

THAT’S IT, SHOUTO!! POINT OUT ALL OF HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT, I WANT ANSWERS

JUST TO CLARIFY, IT’S THAT NATSU, NOT SOME OTHER NATSU!! SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!!

OH, WELL IN THAT CASE

BUT OF COURSE. THAT WOULD MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE, holy shit. okay I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, Dabi is a piece of work. I really thought this arc would make him more sympathetic at long last, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite?? this is like an anti-redemption arc. I don’t relish the thought of venturing into the fandom tags once I finish reading this lol

(ETA: well folks, I’ve done it. and actually it was pretty interesting because there are apparently like ten different things that people are mad about, and so it’s like. each post is a new adventure lmao.)

so Shouto is all “BRUH HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT” and Dabi is all “YES”, basically? like, he says he’s completely lost his feeling for anything. omg. but you were so sweet. how does that even happen

“finally I can kill you” okay for real what the heck is your damage bro?? can we not. I like Shouto just the way he is, un-killed

oh shit and now the Noumus are here

cue Bakugou diving in to save his mentor, STAB WOUNDS BE DAMNED!! actually it would make more sense for it to be Iida, but if Kacchan is really fixin’ to go full Shounen Dumbass here then he might as well go all out, y’know

-- unless of course, Deku decides to activate another quirk??

“last I checked, the main character of this series was still me” OH? WELL I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE, SO PRAY TELL, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT LEFT UP YOUR SLEEVE YOU SUICIDAL BRUSSELS SPROUT

fucking love how he’s all “HAHAHA WITH MY NEW QUIRKS I CAN STILL DO STUPID SHIT EVEN WITH MY ARMS AND LEGS GROUND TO A FINE POWDER” btw. what can I say. Deku gonna Deku

FMMFHDKUHK W H A T

HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE WHAT. QUE THE FUCK

(ETA: okay look, all the love in the world to the brave scanlators who take time out of their lives to translate the leaks every week just so we can read the chapter a couple of days early like the addicts we are. that said, translating Mirio’s signature “POWER!!” -- which was already written in English in the original scan -- to “POG-CHAMP” is just a whole new level of wtfuckery from them lmao. is the Lida person back at it again?? amazing.)

MIRIO!?!?! SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY?!?! POGS HIMSELF UP OUT THE GROUND TO BEAT THE NOUMUS LIKE IT AIN’T NO THING. JUST LIKE WE ALL PREDICTED!? I’M SORRY, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOUR DAILY HOROSCOPE FROM ASTROLOGY DOT COM DIDN’T HAVE THAT ONE IN THE CARDS?? WAS IT NOT OBVIOUS?? TODOROKIS PLUS BEST JEANIST EQUALS MIRIO??

hot damn. Tintin really saw the writing on the wall with the impending Dabi Discourse and was all “NOT SO FAST” lmao. “HERE’S A BRAND NEW THING FOR YOU ALL TO DISCOURSE ABOUT” MIRIO YOU WILD CHILD. YOU GLORIOUS THUG

MEANWHILE LET’S NOT FORGET WHAT MIRIO HAVING HIS POWERS BACK ACTUALLY IMPLIES. HOLY SHIT. SUDDENLY WE CUT BACK TO ALL MIGHT’S OFFICE, ALL THE WAY BACK AT UA. ERI BRANDISHES HER TOKOYAMI-GIFTED BUSTER SWORD, A DETERMINED GLEAM IN HER EYE. “I HEARD YOU WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC WITHOUT ME.” OH. MY. GOD

#bnha 292 #best jeanist #todoroki touya #dabi #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #hadou nejire #toogata mirio #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years ago

Text

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 11: Under Pressure •

TRIGGER WARNINGS: blatant homophobia from Nicklesmart The Beatboxing Jester™️ in disguise as someone you know, internalized homophobia throughout the whole chapter. As usual, will put a skip marker for the heavier scene before and after if you need/want to skip. It is not light, ngl 😔 [trigger words: f*iry + the f slur, each used on exactly one occasion, and (as an insult) queer. I'm so sorry, this was not easy for me either and please do not read this if any of this in any way bothers you, i won't be mad if you skip the chapter 💕]

A/N: Next chapter will be all fluff I promise 🥲, I'm so sorry, but I needed something that could solidify Richie and Y/n's friendship for good, and her helping him through his worst fear is the best way to do that and will be explored in other ways throughout the rest of the series, specifically in the sequel. all that aside, I missed you guys and this series so much!!

LGBTQ+ RESOURCES AND SELF HELP LINKS AT THE BOTTOM OF THE CHAPTER

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

- 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

Richie keeps his eyes trained on the dried mud on his navy blue slip-ons as he makes his way across town, his mind buzzing twice as fast as it normally did. He felt as if his entire body had been put through a blender; his skull still vibrating in his head turning his brain into jelly. His stomach empty and lurching as it twisted into knots far more impossible than what you'd see from a circus performer and his heartbeat could rival a hummingbird's. Not to mention he was walking with two extra legs he'd grow from time to time, another freaky affect the physical and mental toll these past few weeks had put on him and his eyesight. The caffeine he had been living on hadn't helped him one bit either he reckoned.

Insomnia had become his best friend in the past few weeks, hence this last-minute trip to the old gravel pit just behind Derry Town dump. At least, this was the lie he told himself to pluck up enough courage to call Y/n up. Richie hoped she could talk him through it, give him some advice. He was never this nervous to talk to her and deep down in a corner he wished to bury forever - that small part of himself that begged to be free - knew exactly why. This small, repressed Richie Tozier that lived locked away in the center of his heart was calling the shots that day. Hell, he probably had been his whole life but he wasn't ready to admit that to himself yet, let alone his true attentions of seeking her help.

All he knew is he was nervous as all hell, his palms were sweating, he couldn't stop fiddling with his glasses and he was sure one wrong move and he'd shit his pants. For fucks sake, he needed to shake this! He had already freaked Y/n out, that he knew. He could still hear her voice over the receiver. It was soaked in static and every 's', or 'c' sound she made felt like a pencil was being shoved into his eardrums cause of her shitty outdated telephone.

"You," she had asked with a pause. "want to meet at... the dump?"

"Yeah," he scoffed, scratching the same spot behind his ear for what had to be the billionth time out of nervous habit. "you got wax in your ears, L/n?"

"Nope. Just, a little confused is all. You seem kinda... I don't know, squirrely," she said wearily, and through a sharp crackling hiss from the receiver he can make out a nervous chuckle on her end. "You sure nothin' jumped up your ass or anything?"

He bit his lip. Hard. As if punishing himself for drawing her suspicions this early. What if she somehow caught on to what he was gonna talk to her about? Her walk to the gravel pit would surely give her enough time to get to that conclusion, and Richie wasn't daft. He knew he wasn't exactly subtle about... "insomnia". What with how many times he teased insomnia, called it that special nickname he knew it hated but secretly loved. That forbidden flutter in his chest when insomnia would laugh at his jokes, and the small but precious moments they shared from time to time when the others were late that would stay in his heart and mind for weeks to come. But it didn't matter now, as everyone knew; insomnia kept Y/n's company now.

Thankfully his mouth was faster than his brain, and it fired a rapid response before a lull could form.

"You bet your fur," he fires, his lanky arm had rested awkwardly against the wall beside the wall mount. "I am right as rain, toots."

He of course hadn't seen it, but she had frowned at her phone. Her concern was growing with every word spoken from him.

"Yeah," she snorts, throwing back a sarcastic remark. "Cause you sound it."

She had eased a bit, growing soft and falling back into their usual banter. Their special dynamic always seemed to coax down his guard a bit.

"You're talking like a 1950's gangster in a speakeasy," She straightened a little and had begun pacing as much as the phone cord would allow her. "Ya know... More than usual."

Y/n smiled when she could practically hear the smirk taking over his face, and she certainly had no trouble picturing his hunched shoulders and intimidating snarl he was most likely dawning.

"It's a little somethin' called moxie, kid," he spoke with curled his words, imitating all the gangsters he had seen in those cheesy old films. "somethin' you just don't have,"

Y/n had rolled her eyes again, at least Richie could see her doing so when he heard her respond. "Right, right. My bad Baby Face."

"Hey!" He barked, snapping his fingers and pointing at the floor as if she could see him. His voice lowered in a thick Chicago accent. "That's mista Baby Face to ya."

"Mista Baby Face Nelson!" She strained, her annoyed shout tainted with a laugh. "Are we meeting at five or not?"

Richie released a quick and silent breath, expelling as many nerves as possible.

"You bet your fur."

The exchange kept playing over and over in his mind and Richie wondered if the same rang true for Y/n. He hoped not, cause that would mean she was thinking about it too much. Hell, he was thinking about it too much now. A heavy sigh rolls off of his chest as every anxiety collectively manifests into its own dark thought.

Fuck, he really had it bad.

How pathetic he was.

Eddie would surely be horrified to know what Richie really thought of him, that was for sure.

And as if he hadn't felt crazy enough, the thoughts actually began to feel like voices calling him from the darkest shadows of his mind.

'And the other Losers? You'll be lucky if they even look at you again.'

Richie was surprised to find himself fighting back, pushing back as much as he could. Despite all the jokes and jabs, he couldn't be completely alone. A small part whispered in his heart that he wasn't, and he thought briefly of the turtle strangely enough but it was gone just as soon as it had come. All he knew was that whatever was telling him this thing was stubborn. But so was Richie Tozier.

He treated it as an intrusive thought. Made a decision then and there that it was, never occurring to him what it could be if wasn't.

No way. Not those assholes, he tells the voice. These are the Losers for fucks sake!

The more he thought about it the more he was sure of it. God forbid Eddie did find out, which Richie had no intention of, and what would happen was in fact unclear. But no matter how he looked at it, he just couldn't picture the little spaghetti man ever cutting him out of his life completely. Not by choice at least.

Now Ben, that lovable sappy haystack of his that was too passionate for his own good. Richie may not be the silent type but he does pick up on things, and Hanscom's affections for Beverly Marsh were far from subtle. Always opening doors for her and turning redder than a tomato when she smiled at him. Not to mention Richie was about ninety percent sure there was a poem of some sort involved. And that was just Beverly, Ben was always thinking of the Losers. Now Richie knew for sure that boy had no hateful bone in his body to the point it was fucking annoying.

Mike, Richie felt, might be a little similar. The kid had a lot of heart, always going on about the animals on his farm. Would even go as far to say he considered them his friends, what with how much Richie knew about Mooriuel the calf and he hadn't even met her for cripes sake! Richie imagined he'd be a bit more shocked but would try some sappy speech when he came around. Would make a whole big thing of it, pat him on the back, and even invite a conversation. He scoffed at the thought, the image of Mike slapping him on the back and his signature grin... Yeah, he appreciated the hypothetical gesture but it wasn't Richie's style.

He could easily see Big Bill sputtering up a storm, but managing a smile. He'd probably even manage to forget their differences long enough to say something stupid but supportive. And Beverly and Stan were the ones he worried about the least. Stan would probably be too indifferent to care, throw him some snarky ass comment like, "took ya long enough, dipshit," and Beverly? Well, Beverly had always been cool, very laid back. She never took shit, and she never dished it out if she didn't think it was deserved which Richie admired greatly. This was one of many reasons he was so shocked she had taken Bill's side in the fight.

The thought brings him back down again, and as soon as the memory touches him so do the nerves in his jaw tensing up again where he had been hit. He could feel the punch all over again. And he suddenly remembers why he is here.

He is here, he realized.

Just around the bend, coming into view was the gravel pit. Old and crumbling it was, and overrun with weeds and bushes. One could easily scale in and out of it, and at the very bottom Rich had discovered one day was a beaten and tattered leather seat from a car that found its way from the junkyard just a ways over. This was where he told Y/n to meet him.

Y/n...

Jesus fuck, what would Y/n say? How would he tell her? Would she still wanna be friends with him? Would she laugh and crack a joke, not taking it seriously? Would she hate him for it? More importantly, why in the ever-loving fuck was he here and willing to tell her?

His gangly legs tumble into a sprint as he picks up momentum descending the uneven terrain. The rubber soles of his shoes kicking up the layers of dirt and shaved gravel that lay beneath the rocks and he had to put effort into not crashing as he comes to a stop. He manages to avoid a nasty fall, completely ignorant to the fact that his right foot had been only inches away from a root peeking out from the rocks surely would have broken his neck had he made even one wrong move. He puffs out his chest, dusting himself off, and once again tries to dispel the nausea broiling in his stomach like hot tar.

He closes his eyes tiredly as he drags his feet to the leather bench, letting his backside fall through the air and into the somewhat plush cushion with a deep groan. "Fuck."

His fingers rub his tired eyes, his fingertips finding bits of crust he hadn't gotten earlier and his knuckles brush his glasses further up onto his forehead. Not quite knowing what to do with the overwhelming thoughts and emotions clouding him, his fingers dig further into his eye sockets until all he can see are inky splotches behind his eyes.

Richie doesn't know why he would ever think those things of Y/n. He hadn't ever told her this, not directly at least, but she was just about the only person in the world he trusted most. He knew in his heart of hearts this was why he found himself dialing her number before he could even register what he was doing. Even after their separation and the bitter feelings they took with it, the Losers were and always would be his best friends in the world.

So why did everything about this feel so wrong?

From the moment the phone call ended, he felt like he was waltzing into a trap like some putz...

"Well, look who it is..." snarled a voice from up above the surface.

Richie's blood ran cold and it felt as if the remainder of the air in his lungs had been squeezed out like air in a deflating balloon. He whipped around at the voice, his head twisting up at the silhouetted figure so fast he was shocked he hadn't broken his own neck. The figure held their hands on their hips, thousands of the sun's rays spilling around them as they blocked out a part of the sun, an advantage they reaped from where they stood before Richie at just the right angle. His breath caught in his throat as he had recognized the voice immediately, but the figure didn't quite match the voice.

The last thing person he needed to see right now was Henry fucking Bowers, that was for sure.

The universe agreed so it would seem. The figure shifted, just out of the light revealing the teasing smirk of his best friend Y/n. Her hands snapped together, her palms forming a handgun, the barrel aiming right at Richie's forehead.

"The jig is up," she snarled. "We knows it was you. You was the ones to steal from Big Bill's dame, and I wouldn't be surprised if yous was in cahoots, neithers."

Despite the fear that had clutched his heart only seconds ago, a small chortle left Richie at how awful her accent was. Hadn't she learned anything from him? A smug smile overtook Y/n's face as he broke. She holstered her handguns and gracefully descended the pile of gravel. His smile expired not long after, and despite the thin veil of clouds creeping over the sun the light in the sky was much too hard to even glance at his friend without blinking back several painful searing tears from the harsh light. But he could still make her out.

She was dressed in her usual ratty and eclectic garb; a mix of something far too big for her frame and something that seemed far too tight to be comfortable. Richie was certain she had never once owned even a thread of clothing that had always been hers. Her s/c brow had its usual, light glossy sheen of grease that Richie had learned very early on to not ask about. But there was something about her now, something he couldn't quite place.

Though one question kept popping up in his mind. One that left an itch in his brain he couldn't quite scratch in his dazed state. And that was how could he have possibly thought she sounded like Henry Bowers?

He finds himself looking down at the gravel now, wiping away as much of the sun's damage pooling in his eyes as he can. Unbeknownst to him, she watches him studiously, the ghost of her smile still on her lips as if she was enjoying his discomfort. His long and gangly limbs are folded awkwardly, still, onto the leather seat that sits on the ground. Finally, she takes a seat beside him with a huff as he had.

As he rubs his tired eyes for a second time she takes a long look around, breaking the silence when her trip around the gravel pit lands on him.

"Well, you've looked better." She quips, offering a smile.

Richie snorts, pushing his slipping glasses up the bridge of his nose with a friendly smirk. "This comin' from Raggedy Ann?"

They both breathe a small laugh and for a moment - just one beautiful, fleeting moment - Richie forgets he was ever scared. This is what he needed.

"So," she says, pulling his gaze towards her, sending him a cocky smile as a knowing look sparkles behind her eyes. "I'm guessing there's a reason I'm here, and not helping you with your summer training?"

Richie, for reasons unknown to him, feels his muscles tense up again involuntarily. Like a puppeteer suddenly yanking the strings, ripping his shoulders up to his ears and his muscles bracing. He felt rigid and he was, but he was doing all he could not to show it. All his unease came back in steady waves marching up the sand, but what could he do now? He could already feel her eyes burning holes into the side of his head as he kicked around a sizeable rock with the toe of his shoe, studying him. Waiting.

Finally, his shoulders slumped in a shrug, lower lip in an indifferent pout as he looked around at the sky hanging above the gravel pit.

"Just needed a change from all those ugly mugs, I guess," he manages a laugh, and he rises to his feet to lazily chase the rock that had rolled out of his reach.

He can feel her eyes on him still, and he doesn't know what to make of it until finally she breaks her silence with a chuckle and rises to join him. She catches the rock with the heel of her dirtied sneakers. They're worn down to the very last thread and several shades off from the original color. She kicks the rock back to him, and they engage in a lazy game of rock soccer.

"I can understand that," she says calmly, eyes trained on the rock as it tumbles across the gravel with several chunky clanks. "Reckon it'll be good for you, too,"

He frowns confused without looking up at her, winding one lanky leg back before one big kick. "Whad'ya mean?"

"Well, you don't wanna spend your whole summer inside of an arcade, do you?"

Richie's face freezes in a frown, the rest of his body going rigid. His eyes cement on the rock underneath his shoe, willing away the veil of tears that threatened to fall. Had he not been so caught up on why he was here, Richie might have had a clear enough head to realize Y/n wasn't there for that conversation, nor had she heard about it from anyone there. Instead, all Rich can think about is the small hypochondriac boy that had stolen his heart.

He can hear the conversation he had with his best friend, all those weeks ago when school let out. And if felt like a lifetime since he had seen that squishable, pouty little disgusted frown Eddie always put on that made Richie's inside melt. As if reading his mind, Y/n spoke.

"This is about Eddie, isn't it?"

Her tone is gentle but veiled. Something was concealed about the way she held herself, ever since she had arrived, something that Richie couldn't quite place. And there it was. He was right about her suspecting him, he must be. Richie battles the lump forming in his throat, and he can feel his ears turning pink under her unwavering and unblinking stare.

Richie does all he can to fight a snarky response, not knowing how else to navigate and survive the intensity of his feelings. All he manages to do is nod.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■]

"Rich, it's okay," she says, taking a step forward, his gaze is pulled to her eyes. And here it is, he thinks. The moment he had been dreading, the moment he hadn't even allowed himself to think about. "...I miss him, too."

His face caught in another frown. That's definitely not what he expected her to say. Quickly as he could, he wiped away a spot of snot at his nose. He had managed to keep the tears at bay but now they had found another way out. He felt like a fucking fool, and he wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Of course she didn't know what he was talking about. Why would she - how would she? His spirits were crushed, and he suddenly didn't feel like getting into it now. She seemed off today, not that Richie cared. All he wanted was for this whole day to be over with, not even knowing the worst had yet to come.

She studies his reaction, almost as if she had been waiting for this and she blinks for what Richie is now starting to realize must be the first time since she got here. Y/n's face screws into a frown, and yet there still lingered an uneasy smile that taunted him. Her eyes squint suspiciously at Richie, her head tilting in an expression he never knew he had always feared would come.

She laughs finally, a shrill and grating laugh he hadn't quite heard before and she nudges him playfully. "Oh, come on! It's not like you've got some faggy crush on him or something?"

When he doesn't answer, she scoffs, turning away and shaking her head in disbelief for a moment.

Richie felt he just might vomit. Or cry. Or both. He had never felt so distraught, so dejected. So broken.

How could she be saying these things?

He tries with all his might to conjure a response, any fucking thing at all so he wasn't some blubbering broken chump breaking down in front of her. But for the first time in his life, Richie "loudmouth" Tozier was speechless.

That fuck-awful grating laugh returns, a sour look screws up her face as she looks him up and down in disgust.

"Wait, seriously?" She gapes with a scoff, making him feel about two inches tall. "You actually think he'd want to be with some fairy freak like you?"

"F-f-uck off," he sputters, though he does not feel better.

The trembling in his voice, the vulnerability, hearing it in himself strips any remaining scrap of confidence he had left. He's crying now and there's no hiding it. And she heard it in his voice, he knew that now as he looks at her. Her lips curl into a malicious smile and she takes another step closer, Richie fumbles a step back.

"He isn't some," her nose crinkles as she continues to advance on him, the fire in her eyes building as he stumbles back to escape her sudden venom. "rotten queer like you."

Y/n spits the words out like they were poison on her tongue, and this was true in every way. Her fiery stare never left Richie, it burned holes right through him as she advanced on him like a wolf on a wounded doe. They were nearing the edge of the gravel pit, and Richie had nearly run out of room when her finger stabbed his chest like a sword's final strike to the heart, pushing him to the ground as she spoke those poisonous words.

Richie felt his backside meet several jagged rocks that brought even more tears to his eyes, though none of them hurt as much as her words. She towered over him now, the sun beating down on her back and pouring over her shoulders, trapping Richie in her shadow. She shakes her head, and he can still make out the pathetic look on her face as she glowers at him.

"It's girls he likes. It's me he likes." she points to herself, shaking her head. "He was mine the second he saw me, but you?"

She scoffs again, and her shadow releases him as she kneels to balance on her feet, legs folded before him with a snide look.

"You've always been the insufferable loudmouth he couldn't get rid of." A sharp laugh escapes her, the clutch on his heart tightening to dangerous amounts he fears it will give out. "Well, I guess he doesn't have to worry about that now, huh?"

His heart feels as if it has been ripped to shreds, the claws of the wolf had struck and now he was drowning in his own sorrows as pain as the heartbreak filled his lungs. Richie could no longer see behind the thick wall of glassy tears that blanketed his eyes, and the sounds of his own sobs amplified his embarrassment and despair. He was hopelessly broken, and he could feel himself crumble, each piece disappearing amongst the gravel underneath him until he couldn't be found. He blinked only once, but it was enough to send every tear racing down his cheek at once.

Another malicious smile contorts her face, her e/c eyes burning darker until they looked almost a completely different shade. Her lips seemed to stretch on and on and on in a way only one thing could. And it was then that it occurred to him.

Not one thing she had said to him is something he could have ever prepared himself for, each word constricting his heart and lungs and swelling his throat with the ever-growing lump.

Nor was any of it something she would ever dream of saying, he knew this now.

[■■■■■■■■■■■■]

This wasn't Y/n, this was never Y/n. She had never showed, and if he hadn't been so wrapped up in his own fucking head he would have caught on from the second "Y/n" arrived. Especially that entrance, Y/n surely would have fallen on her ass on her way down into the gravel pit never mind the fact her accent wouldn't be nearly as shit.

But none of this mattered now. This thing that looked like his friend had him cornered, and It knew it.

A wicked grin overtook the mask of Y/n's face that chilled Richie to his bones, and yet it also reassured him. Y/n was tough and could be scary from time to time, but he knew she could never be capable of the pure evil that now danced in It's eyes. Richie's body was already in motion, his arms and legs scrambling for any sort of grip that could take him up the side of the pit and to safety. But the gravel beneath him was always shifting, rolling out from underneath him when it wasn't raking his palms to pieces and all he was accomplishing was a small plume of dust that clung to his backside.

Richie didn't know where it came from, but his actions were faster than his feelings as his fist collided with It's nose. And no sooner did the heel of his shoe collide in a painful crack that sent It's head back, did his eyes widen in horrific shock. The painful crack that would surely haunt him for many nights to come, had not been from the collision of his heel on It's nose but It's head - or Y/n's as this was still It's disguise - had snapped completely back and dangled completely off It's/her shoulders.

The only thing connecting her head to her shoulders was the suit of s/c skin. Protruding from the center of her neck just under the skin was the end of her spine where it had disconnected, giving away a disturbing lack of muscles and veins in her neck as if it had been hollowed out like a pumpkin. Her head rolled back and forth limply, and Richie could feel bile climbing up his throat, ready to burst out his digested mac and cheese.

His mind was screaming at his legs to run while all was still but a small part of him knew this was all a gambit, that it didn't matter if she was frozen stiff or not. Richie knew as soon as he booked it, It would spring to life with something even more twisted. That now, without his friends, he was as good as dead.

And It was more than happy to prove Richie right.

The clone of his friend sprang to life, It's head still rolling around on It's shoulders. Connected only by the skin of It's neck, and moving around like some fucked up slinky toy. Richie was already halfway up the gravel pit, bits of rock and dirt finding their way into his shoes as he kicked up the earth though that was the farthest thing from his mind.

By the time Richie reached the top of the pit, he could no longer hear the thunderous boom of his heart attempting to break loose from his chest, which was saying an awful lot. His screams echoed out into the air only to be swallowed by the screams of other children and Richie didn't know how he knew this but he knew those were the screams of Betty Ripsom, Ed Corcoran... Georgie Denbrough. The bloodied screams of It's victims were drowning Richie as he ran for the junkyard, and he wondered if he might live to hear them stop.

The screams were so fucking loud in his ears he could see them. Each of them a blinding, deafening, gut-wrenching, and blood-curdling scream that danced through the air like ribbons as they begged for their lives. Richie cried out and he couldn't even hear his own voice, but he didn't let this stop his legs from pumping as hard as they possibly could. He was nearly to the junkyard, surely he could use something to fend It off but he knew he was just buying time.

He could taste the blood on his tongue from where his teeth bit into his cheek. In all his short life, Richie Tozier would not have guessed child-eating clown to be the way he'd kick the can. When ever the thought of death began troubling him, he always liked to picture something like a western. Him and his rightful enemy squaring off against good and evil, he'd shoot first and save the day but still sustain an injury and bleed out. But it'd be a hero's death. And that was something.

But this... this was something born out of darker than evil and Richie was about to be pulled into the gravity well of this black hole and swallowed up. And he knew in his soul, the very pits of his stomach it would reach out with its shadowy arms and pull him into darkness.

And it did.

Richie had been rapidly approaching the edge of the junkyard without realizing and within an instant found himself on the ground, caved in on himself as he tumbled in the dirt and rocks accepting he was to join them soon enough. He closed his eyes and waited for death as a hand curled around his shoulder and pulled him around. Another jolt of shock shot through his entire body at the sudden contact, locking his jaw and paralyzing his entire body in fear as he was met with the new threat. He didn't dare open his eyes, and certainly not when he heard his best friend's voice again.

"Richie! Richie?"

It was her again, he realized. Y/n's real voice, the one that he heard on the telephone that was dripped in static. The one now dripped in fear.

"Richie?!"

When the boy opened his eyes, they were filled with terror and his sobs continued. A lense Y/n never thought she'd see Richie look at her through. Her heart broke in an instant when she realized he was afraid... of her. Instantly, she released him and let her backside fall back into the gravel. She watched through a thick wall of tears as he trembled, crying to himself, and never in all her life had she seen Richie Tozier so broken.

It tore her apart.

She didn't have to be a genius to realize what had happened here. Before she had even reached the junkyard on her bike she had heard his screams strangled through the wall of trees gating the area. When she had reached the gravel yard, she was happy to see him still in one piece but he was running for his life from an invisible force. The damn coward had gotten what It wanted and scared him shitless, but why would he disappear just because she showed? She had wondered.

Now she was beginning to understand. It didn't need to be here to scare her. Just the sight of Richie in such a state was enough to tear her down and it took just about everything in her not to scream into the sky from a mix of fury and fear.

Besides the tears that race down her cheeks and wet her legs, all Y/n could feel was a painfully numbing fear. Fear that Richie would never be the same. Fear that Richie would never speak to her again. Fear that Richie would never trust her again. Fear for whatever the fucking hell that thing did to Richie. Fear that It would do it again.

All she felt now was fear for Richie.

Y/n doesn't bother to fight the sob that breaks loose, her bottom lip quivers violently and her arms fall to the gravely pavement beneath her. As if her head had filled with lead, it grew heavy enough to fall into her chest where her chin landed, shaking several more tears loose.

"I'm s-so sorry, Richie,"

Y/n yearns to say more, but her body is physically weak from sadness and shame. Yet still, she repeats it in her mind hoping with everything in her it slips out of her mouth, or maybe if she thought them loud enough he'd hear them in his mind.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry for whatever happened. I'm so goddamn sorry...

"I'm sorry," she whimpers. "I promise..."

I promise I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise I'm not gonna hate you. I promise I'm gonna be there for you, from now on. I promise.

Her sniffles blend with his own, and Richie is unsure why this is the moment he knows for sure this is the real Y/n before him; maybe he was just too exhausted to think it through, perhaps it was the godawful sound she was making trying to keep herself from snotting as bad as he was but he knew It had gone. And the Y/n sitting beside him — crying with him, was the one he dialed up today. This was the Y/n he had been prepared to bare his soul to. His true self.

So with one shaky hand — the other still tucked in close to his chest — Richie's left hand slid out from under him and across the gravel to Y/n's open palm. Her fingers were digging into the gravel, sharp edges of the rock digging into her skin as if to assure herself she was really real. Suddenly, she felt Richie's shaky palm slide underneath hers, carefully taking it.

Y/n picked her glassy stare up from the ground to look at their intertwined hands, and she melted a little. Several of those fears — not all of them, but some — were ebbed away and she looked to Richie. He was still curled up in the dirt, his eyes closed and silent tears streaking his dirt-covered face. Each tear paved a path of clean skin, washing the dirt away in wild streaks where ever each tear had fallen. Several large and swollen beads of tears collected at his chin where they dangled, threatening to fall.

She gave his hand a squeeze, letting him know she was there for him as she had promised him. And she was ready to sit with him for as long as he needed.

For hours that feel only like minutes, they sit together in tear-filled silence, clinging to one another's presence and the knowledge that they are now all they have left.

And there was no way they were letting go.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Here are some LGBTQ+ resources for mental health and self help if you feel you need them:

How do I find LGBTQ friendly therapy?

An article on safe ways to find the best sources of help that are right for you

The Trevor Project

Self Care Tips for Trans and Non Binary Folks

+++

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@seasidecrowbar @geniedocroe @sivords @ravenclawsprincess @kricketwritesstories @plum-duels @edmunds-torch @rosi3e @welcome-to-derry @beepbeep-pennywise @ongaku-ato-kakikomi @cocastyle @peachysinnermon @cloudymotel @captainshazamerica @kaitlynjones12 @songbird-writes @traceylader @annimalq @russian-romanova @witch-of-all-things-soft @blogforhoes @darkcrystal-wolf @astrobre @opalpuff4073

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meltwonu · 4 years ago

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2. “I’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.”

14. “Are you sure? Once we start, i might not be able to stop.”

notes; succubus!reader, sub!seokmin, whiny seokmin, sexual activities in public, a widdol degradation, handjob, dirty talk/mentions of exhibitionism, seokmin cumming too easily heh😌, im ngl i couldnt stop thinking about seokmin crying and being whiny while also being touched in public and him being unable to keep it under wraps for like the last 4 days so HERE U GO!! this is purely straight from my mental prison 🥰💕 Thank you for requesting! Enjoy! 💕

Seokmin counts it as a good thing when you seamlessly blend in with his loud and rowdy group of friends.

He’d been concerned at first, scared even, that the others would be unsure about your addition to their friendgroup; especially with them not knowing that you were a succubus.

His cheeks burn pink at the thought alone; a shaky smile on his lips at the way the two of you play ‘normal’ so well.

“And I told Seokmin, y’know? Don’t buy too many coats! But what did he do anyway?”

You roll your eyes jokingly before turning to the male; catching him staring back at you. Your eyes glimmer with something that Seokmin should heed as a warning but doesn’t, right before you turn back around to focus your attention back to Jeonghan who laughs.

And it doesn’t take long before Seokmin feels it.

Seokmin’s first mistake might’ve been the drunken night that he’d spilled his guts and told you everything he wanted to try. Not that he fully remembered what he’d said that night anymore.

He feels your hand slithering into his lap and his back goes straighter than a board in his seat; hands laced together tightly on top of the table when you dig your fingernails into his inner thigh.

Oh no.

“‘Kyeom, you okay?” Joshua inquires; brows furrowed when he sees the blood draining from the younger male’s face. “H-huh? Yeah, sorry. What were you saying about the pool?” He smiles, albeit it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and he can’t deny the cold sweat his body breaks out into when you ghost your fingertips over his crotch.

The thought of you touching him in public while everyone else sits around the table sets his body on fire; cock already throbbing at your gentle and teasing touches.

And Seokmin definitely can’t deny the images that flash through his mind of your hand wrapped around his cock and his head thrown back against the chair as he chased his pleasure while he cried and whined for you to let him cum.

“Okay, seriously? You okay? You look sick all of a sudden!” Joshua’s concerned voice pulls him out of his thoughts just as you pull your hand away; turning to Seokmin in feigned concern as you check in on him too.

“Seokmin? You okay, baby?”

All eyes are on Seokmin at this point, and he feels his body heating up knowing what you were trying to do, not even a whole minute earlier.

“I”m fine! Really!”

He grits his teeth, palms clammy when he feels himself thrusting up a little more each time to catch the feeling of you palming him through his jeans.

Seokmin plays it off as him just scooting closer towards the table.

It’s a natural push and pull when you tease him a little and then leave him hanging just when he starts to give in and he finds himself ready to throw in the towel and unzip his jeans himself if you tease him any longer.

The sweat beads at his temple and he bites his lip; three seconds from excusing himself from the table when Jeonghan speaks up.

“‘Kyeom, you should go splash your face with water. You’re really not looking too good.” Jeonghan glances at you; angelic smile on his lips. “You should help him, just in case he gets lightheaded. We wouldn’t want him to fall and get hurt.”

Grinning, you nod at him as you lift your hand from Seokmin’s lap and stand from your seat.

“Let’s go, Seokmin. Maybe you’ll feel better from getting up a little too.” Seokmin nods up at you before shakily getting up; hoping that the sweater he’s wearing is enough to cover the way his cock is already hard and straining against the denim.

Jeonghan smiles, eyes flashing a deep crimson before they melt back into their normal dark brown pools.

“Now, where were we?”

The second you and Seokmin make it into the single person restroom in the restaurant, he’s all whines and hurried cries.

“Please, please, t-touch me!” His bottom lip quivers and he squirms; hands already working to get his jeans off before you can even properly set the lock in place.

“Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.” Seokmin nods frantically in return, “Yes! Yes, please! I never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly!”

Without another word, he quickly lifts his sweater and bites down on the hem to keep it out of the way as his hands flit down to undo the button and zipper of his pants.

“Oh, my cute ‘lil Seokminnie is so cute and so desperate to be touched~” Teasingly, you palm him over his boxer briefs; eating up the way he whines and thrusts into your touch. “Ah, I could take you right here, y’know? You probably want to fuck my pussy, fill it up with your cum while you beg for another orgasm.” Smirking, you tug his underwear down as you quickly wrap a hand around his cock and back him up against the sink in one swift motion.

“You’d be so cute doing it too. You’re so pretty when you cry, ‘Kyeom~” He lets out a choked sob, teeth biting into the sweater material. You slot a leg between his own just before you press your warm body flush against him. “I know how much you wanted me to touch you out there. You were probably getting hard at the thought of getting off in front of all of them, weren’t you? Such a filthy ‘lil babyboy, hmm? Cumming at the dinner table.”

Seokmin groans, head already muddled and fuzzy with the thought of it alone.

Your palm is quickly slick with precum as you work your hand up and down his cock; momentarily enveloping the cockhead with just your palm as you tease him. He lets out a high pitched whine as his hips cant up into your palm, too far gone to care about who could hear him through the door.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna cum already, Seokmin? So fuckin’ easy. Does being watched get you off that much?” Your giggle has him whimpering from around the material between his lips and his teary eyes meet your own crimson ones.

“I’ve barely even touched you, babyboy. But you can cum. We wouldn’t want them to know how needy and desperate you were in here, do we?” You pause, leaning in and trapping your hand around his cock as you whisper into his ear. “Or maybe you do? Maybe you want them to know you’re a good babyboy, always so fuckin’ obedient and ready for me~ Practically already taking your cock out before the door was even shut proper.”

You dig your thumb into the slit of his cock as he lets out a stuttered moan; body trembling against your own as he feels the tension ready to snap.

Pulling away, you tighten your grip on his cock; running your hand up and down his shaft quicker when you feel him throbbing in your hold. His hips lose their rhythm as he chases the pleasure, giving in to his desires as his eyes clamp shut and he lets himself cum in the palm of your hand.

“Ah, you’re making such a big mess, ‘Kyeom~”

His entire body thrums with pleasure as his orgasm washes over him; rivulets of cum hitting his abdomen as his cries and whines are muffled against the fabric still trapped between his lips.

You continue to stroke him and work him through his high, alternating the tightness of your grip until he’s whining in overstimulation.

The fabric falls from between his lips, soaked through with his spit as he sniffles. His eyes are wet with tears, bottom lip trembling as you teasingly grip his cock tighter. “Ah, I’m--’m sen--sensitive… plea--please…I--I can’t...”

His entire body trembles the second you take your hand off of him and in all honesty, he already misses your touch.

“You made such a mess, babyboy.” You bring your cum covered fingertips to his lips; crimson eyes watching as he obediently wraps his lips around your fingers to clean them of his cum.

“So fuckin’ filthy.”

When the two of you make it back to the table, Seokmin’s cheeks are still a pale pink.

“Sorry, I might’ve eaten something weird!” Laughing, he scratches the back of his head embarrassedly. “I’m okay now though! Getting up might’ve been good...”

You take your place next to him, smiling before glancing back over to Jeonghan who meets you with his own angelic smile.

“Ah, I’m so glad our little ‘Kyeom didn’t get lightheaded. Too much physical activity will have you feeling sick, y’know?” You smirk at Jeonghan’s words, fingertips reaching for your glass of water as Seokmin raises a brow at the older male.

“What are you talking about, hyung? I barely even exercise!”

#seokmin smut #dk smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seokmin scenarios #seokmin imagines #dk imagines #dk scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #svt fic #svt scenarios #svt imagines #sub!svt #sub!seventeen #seokmin #dk

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davidpastrsnack · 4 years ago

Text

drive (pt. 2) - matthew tkachuk

a/n: ngl i’m not obsessed with this chapter. it’s kind of a filler but i promise things will get more juicy in the next one. hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

part one

Your eyebrows furrowed at his words as you looked at him in complete shock.

You must have been hearing things, because there was no way Matthew just asked you to move to Calgary with him.

“What?” you exclaimed. “You’re right, I do think you’re crazy,” you said with a chuckle.

Matthew sat up straighter in the chair preparing to make his case, your body shifting with his.

“Why? You’re just going to live at home while you try to figure out this job stuff, so why not do it with me in Calgary?” he spoke like it was the most obvious thing ever.

He was dead serious about this.

“Matthew, it's not that simple. I can’t just pick up and move with no plan. And to a different country? There’s a little thing called a border.”

“I’ll have my agent help with anything you need for your visa and I have a spare bedroom. Come on, Y/N. No offense to them, but do you want to spend your first year out of college living with your parents or with me?” he questioned.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, you knew he loved your parents but he had a point. Still, there was just no way this would work out. You had only met some of his teammates once before, and now you’re just supposed to join their circle? Not to mention your feelings for him were at the forefront of your mind. You felt lucky that you never had to watch girl after girl fall at his feet because that wasn’t his life back home. It was a perfect example of ignorance is bliss. Moving to the city with him would rip that ignorance away and you didn’t know if you could handle that.

You were silent for a minute, the only sound being the crackling of the fire and the crickets. You looked down and played with the sleeves of his sweatshirt, trying to gather your thoughts as he gazed at you hopefully.

“Matty,” you started, “I appreciate you trying to help me, but I don’t see this happening. I don’t even have a job, how am I supposed to pay for a huge move like this?” you asked, not expecting an answer, but he had one anyway.

“Is that a joke?” He laughed. “Not to sound like an asshole, but have you seen my contract? Y/N, I have more money than I’ll ever know what to do with.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “When have you ever tried not to sound like an asshole.”

He scoffed right back, but the words that followed were his most sincere of the night. “Just think about it, please, Y/N. I hate to see you so stressed about everything, you don’t deserve it. So just let me take care of you,” he whispered, looking up at you with the softest eyes.

Your heart ached at his words. No matter how much you denied it, you were completely and utterly fucked for this man. If you went with him you knew it would only be a matter of time before you exposed yourself, which would most likely result in your lifelong friendship blowing up. You couldn’t let that happen.

But before you could speak again, he opened his mouth, “Listen, I’m not letting you say no tonight. Sleep on it.”

“Fine,” you groaned, standing up from your post across his thighs. “I’ll think about it.”

He jumped up after you, throwing his arm around your shoulders pulling you in close while you both walked towards the house.

“Just think about how much fun we’re gonna have. It’s cold though, you’re gonna have to get over that,” he chirped with a cheeky grin.

“Well good thing I haven’t said yes,” you teased back, slipping inside the door he held open for you.

-----

You woke up to the sun pouring through your windows, mentally cursing yourself for forgetting to close the curtains last night. You weren’t surprised though, your brain was absolute mush after hearing Matthew’s proposal. You rolled over to check your phone, the screen reading 7:12am.

“Fuck,” you mumbled into your pillow. Emma was still passed out next to you, the bright light not at all phasing her. You ran your hands over your face, pausing to tangle them in your hair. It was way too early, but you also knew there was no chance of falling back asleep, so you pulled yourself out of bed and headed into the bathroom.

You barely slept that night, there was just too much on your mind. The more you thought about it, you realized Matthew was right. It would be good for you to do something new during this time of your life. No matter how much you tried to resist it, you could feel him slowly but surely luring you in.

You headed downstairs into the kitchen, needing caffeine immediately if you were going to be awake this early. You had the whole space to yourself and you sat on top of the counter while you waited for the coffee machine to heat up. The house was quiet and the view of the lake was helping to calm all your uncertainties. The water was flat like glass, the reflection of the trees clear as a photograph. You quickly got lost in the peaceful image, not even hearing the front door open.

“Morning, sunshine,” you heard from behind you.

He may have been on a mini vacation this weekend, but Matthew still started training camp in two weeks. He had clearly just come back from a run, his tall frame standing in front of you in just a pair of sneakers and basketball shorts. His toned chest was glistening with sweat and you had to physically pull your eyes away before he caught you staring.

“Morning,” you replied, returning your gaze to the windows.

“What are you doing down here? I’ve never seen you get up before ten unless you absolutely had to,” he spoke as he grabbed water from the fridge. Damn him for knowing you so well.

“Uh- I don’t know,” you nervously muttered, not wanting to admit that you were up all night thinking about him.

“Busy making up your mind?” he smirked, leaning against the countertop giving you the perfect view of his flexed arms.

You rolled your eyes, mumbling a thank you as he slid a cup of coffee towards you, made exactly how you liked it. The two of you sat there for a few minutes slowly sipping the hot liquid from the matching mugs. Matthew was busy texting Keith and his trainer, both making sure that he was staying on track while away from the gym, while you kept admiring the lake. It never failed to amaze you how comfortable you two were around each other. The room was silent, but it wasn’t awkward at all. In that moment you decided it was time to give him an answer, suddenly throwing all caution to the wind.

“Matty?” you asked, turning your body to face his as he sat on the stool next to you.

“Hmm?” he responded, putting his phone to the side and meeting your gaze.

You took in a long breath, wondering if you were really about to do this.

“I’ll go with you,” you spoke softly.

The grin that spread on his face was unmatched to anything else you had ever seen. The corners of his mouth were practically reaching his forehead and his baby blue eyes lit up at your words.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I didn’t quite hear you,” he teased, gloating in the fact that he convinced you.

“Matthew I will change my mind right now.”

“No, no way,” he stood up, stepping closer and wrapping you up in his arms, squeezing your frame tight as it sunk in that you were really coming with him.

Your body relaxed in his grasp, your arms slinking around his waist to hold him to you. His head rested on top of yours, both of you so at ease with the other.

“I promise you won’t regret it,” he whispered.

“You need to shower,” you joked, feeling like it was time to break the embrace. There was only so long friends could hug platonically and you guys were seconds away from crossing that line.

He laughed as he finally pulled away, “Whatever you say, roomie.”

“Roomie?”

Your head twisted to the other side of the room to see Brady standing in the hall. Great, you thought, just what you needed. It was one thing for you and Matthew to talk about this but you couldn’t deny that you were nervous to see everyone’s reactions, especially both of your families.

“Y/N is coming to Calgary with me,” Matthew stated. You waited for Brady’s next words, noting the warning glare his older brother was sending him.

“She is?” he raised his eyebrows, shifting his gaze to you. The look on his face was worth a thousand words: Brady was onto you.

But little did you know, he was also onto Matthew.

“Yup,” you anxiously laughed.

To say it was awkward would be the understatement of the century.

“Alright well I’m gonna go shower,” Matthew broke the silence, moving towards the staircase to go upstairs.

You and Brady nodded, neither one of you speaking until he was out of sight. Your eyes were focused on the cup of coffee in front you, refusing to make eye contact with him because you knew what was coming.

“You know, I don’t even think I need to say anything,” he started.

You scoffed louded at his words, standing up to go back into your room to get ready for the day. You weren’t in the mood for his teasing, especially not when it only reminded you of what you would never have.

“Y/N, wait,” he pleaded, his attitude quickly shifting, the regret clear in his voice.

“What, Brady?” you snapped, turning to face him.

“It’s not just you. He’s compared every girl to you for as long as I can remember.”

You shook your head at him in disbelief. There was no way that was true, and Brady was seriously messed up if he thought screwing with you like this was funny.

“Look, you don’t have to agree with me right now, but I’m giving you two a month of living together before you finally pull your heads out of your asses,” he stated confidently.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you chuckled, finally heading up the stairs.

-----

Just a week later you found yourself arriving at Calgary International Airport, Matthew right by your side. Your parents had been more supportive of your decision than you expected, but then again they had always loved Matthew. The two of you were sitting by the baggage claim waiting for your luggage when the exhaustion of the day finally hit. On top of that, the airline warned that there were baggage delays, so you didn’t plan on getting out of here soon. You didn’t mean to, but you let out an obnoxiously loud yawn as you caught up on your social media feeds.

“You alright there?” Matthew joked, looking at you with his eyebrows raised.

“Yes, dad, I’m fine,” you countered.

“I’m gonna go get coffee, we both need it. The usual?” he asked, standing up before you could tell him he didn’t have to get it for you.

You knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you opted for a simple nod. Just a few moments later, a young boy who was with a man that you assumed was his father tentatively walked up to you.

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you, but was that Matthew Tkachuk?” the man inquired.

You smiled at them both, remembering that Matthew wasn’t exactly nobody in this city. “Yeah, it is.” The boy’s face lit up at your words, clearly a huge Flames fan.

“You guys can wait with me, he should be back any minute now and I’m sure he’d love to say hi,” you encouraged. No matter how well known Matthew had become, he always made the time to stop for kids.

The pair sat down across from your seat, patiently waiting for the hockey player’s return. It wasn’t long until you saw him walking back towards you, two coffees in hand. When he saw the people with you he had a quizzical look on his face, but you gave him a gentle nod to let him know it was okay. Once he got closer, he realized just what was happening.

“Hi there,” he smiled, “I’m Matthew.” He paused to hand you your coffee before shaking hands with the man and sinking down to his knees to fist bump the boy.

They settled into an easy conversation, the boy finally warming up after the shock of meeting one of his idols. Matthew was unbelievably good with kids, and no matter how many times you saw it, he still made your heart flutter each time. It came so naturally to him, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to how incredible of a father he was going to be someday. After you took some pictures and Matthew signed a few autographs, the pair went back to their own baggage carousel.

He settled back into his chair next to yours, sighing as he ran his hands through his brown curls.

“That was really nice of you, Matthew,”

“It’s nothing. I used to be that kid,” he said, trying to brush it off.

“I’m serious, you didn’t have to do that. You’re a great person when you want to be,” you teased.

“Yeah? And how’s that coffee I just went to get you?” he chirped right back, bumping his shoulder into yours with a grin across his face.

-----

After Matthew stubbornly refused to let you carry your own bags out, you two were finally sitting in the back of an Uber on the way to his apartment. It was nearly dusk and the city was lit up with the beautiful, golden light of the approaching sunset.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” you heard from beside you, Matthew’s voice snapping you out of your daze.

“Yeah it is,” you smiled, meeting his gaze to find him already looking at you.

It didn’t take long for you to arrive at his building, Matthew stopping at the front desk to introduce you to the concierge. It was the first of what you assumed to be many times someone would be confused by your situation, and you knew you would soon get used to saying, “Oh no, we’re not- we’re just friends.”

After heading up the elevator and walking down the hall, Matthew unlocked his door, letting you walk in first as he followed.

“Wow, not bad,” you mumbled, taking in the interior. It was the definition of a bachelor’s pad, the dark, sleek design a clear reflection of his lifestyle.

“I just moved in at the end of last season so it’s missing some things, but yeah, it’s not bad,” he laughed.

You walked over to the floor length windows taking in the view of the lit up city around you. You crossed your arms over your chest, the fact that you were really here was definitely settling in. But something about it just felt right, like you belonged here. Matthew’s body slid next to yours, joining you to admire his home after so long away.

“I’ll show you around tomorrow and we can get dinner or something with the guys that are back already,” he spoke, pulling you into his side with his arm. Your head fell to rest on his shoulder. “I really want this to feel like home for you,” he said softly.

You slipped your arms around his torso reciprocating his embrace, “Thank you, Matty.”

“Let me show you your room,” he spoke as he grabbed your hand to guide you into the rest of the apartment.

You and Matthew spent the night unpacking and settling in. He ordered food, making sure to give you the rundown on all his favorite spots, before putting on a movie. After eating more than either of you should have, you found yourself cuddled into his side on the couch, a fuzzy blanket covering your bodies and his frame vibrating beneath you each time he laughed at the screen. You don’t remember when, but at some point you drifted off on his chest, only to be woken up to him carrying you to bed.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #my writing

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caedogeist-rights · 4 years ago

Text

Podcasts ranked by the amount of kissing/gross sounds in it (and also how romance-repulsed/aromantic-friendly it is), by me, your neighborhood aro and hater of Body Sounds. Spoilers ahead for every single podcast listed!

(also, this got long, so uh. see under the break for the full list.)

1. Time:Bombs: The Perfect Podcast, not a gross foley, kiss, or romance-heavy plot in sight. I’ve got nothing bad to say about it, im sorry. It’s perfect.

2. Northwest Footwear Database: It is beauty, it is grace, it has got no Weird Sounds (unless you count a banging song and in-depth discussions of shoes. which i do not). A weird fiction podcast, so not Perfect in the listening, but... still #2 for a reason.

3. RQG: it is a ttrpg podcast. theres very obviously no kissing foley here. Thank G-d, is all im saying. Also has a QPP with a PC, and i give every budding romance an aro thumbs up!

4. Wolf 359: I don’t remember any terrible sounds, there’s no explicit romance- overall, a Good One! 1/2 a point taken off for the mental image of freezer-burned doug.

5. Kaleidotrope: oh, if there ever was a good podcast! This podcast is also kinda obsessed with love, which is nice, but focuses on romantic love for 90% of it, which is less so. Oh kaleidotrope... you need some aros.

6. TSCOSI: I adore this podcast! this is a wonderful podcast with wonderful characters, and I enjoy the ace rep! However, the torture scene in the s1 finale was... less enjoyable. 1 minute of Terrible, but it counts. (we have entered one-strike-territory)

7. The College Tapes: I am filled with adoration, but also, the book and cult chanting is creepy and unnerving. Also, the sheer volume of romantic pining was... overwhelming. Didn’t hate it, but not The Aro Friendly Podcast of my dreams.

8. Mabel: I do not remember much of this podcast, except I enjoyed it and there was some foley that was uncomfortable. Overall, not bad, but... a romance-focused plot, no matter how much I love it, with uh. Weird Sounds.

9. Archive 81: behold, my favorite podcast! Why, you may ask- oh, it simply is the Weird Shit Aro Haven of my dreams! Not a kiss or romantic plot to be found (some of yall ship chris and lee, and i support you, but i never interpreted them as romantic, so It Doesn’t Count on this list). However. the heart-eating scene. the s2 surgery scene. the concept of half the characters? the definition of body horror. Gross! (we have entered into the couple-strikes territory)

10. Stellar Firma: much like a81, perfect except for just one thing, and in this case, its the foot kink shit. Please listen to stellar firma, but also. Hartro’s Foot Kink. I give it my aro sign of approval, though! (I have also only listened up to s2 finale, so uh. idk after that).

11. The Bright Sessions: there are xactly two reasons why this podcast is rated so low on this list. One, there’s quite a bit of romance in this podcast. I’m not against 80% of it, but like... Romance Exists. Two, Safehouse! I do not want or need to hear a man beaten half to death, no matter how much I hate him!

12. TMA: but, you might ask, why is TMA so low? It’s got not a kiss in sight, an a canon ace! Yes, I say, that all is true. It’s why TMA is in its special little category: As An Aro I’m Fine But What The Fuck Bro. An ace main character cannot erase the experience of listening to jon’s hand be burned while I was on a public bus, my Actual Physical Repulsion to michael’s voice, and also all the gore. It’s Gross, Bro! Edit for post e200: yeah.... i must admit the kiss was gross and the sound design really only got more disturbing, so its staying at #12, but... keep in mind that this podcast is simply quite terrible on the ears.

13. Junoverse (Penumbra Podcast): Didn’t mean to make these three popular podcasts the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th worst ones, but what can i say! these fuckers have foley. Junoverse is one of two podcasts in the special category Make Room For Jesus, and juno gets here primarily because of the downright ridiculous amount of making out in it, plus a Giant Subplot being romantic, and also the multiple scenes of torture/a character getting Hurt, Badly. However, not the worst, since while kissing is gross, I can deal. Torture/death/screaming/gore, however...

14. The AM Archives (including Order&Chaos): behold, the pride of the Make Room For Jesus category. I love this podcast/s more than life itself, but I also used transcripts for most of it, so I was able to actually get through it. But from what i could get from transcripts/listening to the finale/asking fellow listeners, its... well, #14 for a reason. And what I can say: this podcast has everything! Burgeoning romance thats, ngl, kinda uncomfortable to listen to! A Kiss (thank you, Order&Chaos, for giving me lovely poly content, but... Kiss Gross)! Copious amounts of screaming and torture! Emotional distress of many varieties (mine included)! Extended Death Scene! I’m sorry, i feel like doing tama a disservice by ranking it last, but unfortunately... it ain’t easy on the ears, and I’m incredibly glad I avoided a lot of it! (...i still did listen to owen’s death, tho. which. aaagh i’ll never be over that one, huh). I love you, TAMA and O&C, but you are hard as hell to listen to.

ty for reading to the end! please, i take aro-friendly podcast suggestions! again, this is based on memory and memory alone (tama excluded), so uh... whoops! if i forgot something important

#kye does rqg #kye does a81 #am archives spoilers #tama spoilers #order and chaos spoilers #tma #a81 spoilers #benny speaks #if this shows up in tags it shows up in tags im sorry but i Cannot Fix That

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shitty-marvel-fan732 · 4 years ago

Text

Guilty, Part 2

Title: Guilty, Part 2 of 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Barnes-Rodgers!reader

Warnings: Bucky is a grumpy dad™️, Peter is an even sadder boy, and anxiety I guess??

Summary: Peter is worried the dangers of being Spiderman's girlfriend are too much for you.

Authors Note: Here's the second part to @lou-la-lou 's request. The italicized paragraphs are a flashbacks! If anyone has any other requests for me, feel free to send them in, and if you have them in my inbox already, know that I am working on them, I swear! 😂 I feel like its kinda rushed, ngl, but here we go! ENJOY!

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

"Come on out Parker, I know you're up here," Bucky called out to the outwardly vacant rooftop. He swung his legs over the side of the Tower calmly and waited.

"Uhm, I'm good. Thanks." he heard Peter squeak nervously from behind him. He chuckled a little at the evident panic in his voice, and patted the spot next to him.

"It's okay kid, I'm not here to hurt you, I just wanna talk."

Moments passed, and Bucky could practically hear the gears of fear and curiosity winding inside the young spiderling's head as he contemplated things. Bucky sighed, his patience running thin.

"Come on Peter, you know that if I wanted to harm you that I would've done it already."

After a few more moments and a mutter of something that sounded a lot like 'that's comforting', Peter eventually sat on the ledge next to Bucky.

Well, actually he was a good six feet away from being next to him, but Bucky would take what he could get.

"So," he broke through the silence, eyes focused out towards the sky rather than the blue and red clad figure sitting beside him. "What are you doing here kid?"

"Oh I was just out on patrol and so ya know I was like in the-- in the neighborhood so I just thought I'd drop by," Peter cleared his throat, stuttering awkwardly through what was so clearly an excuse. Bucky chuckled.

"Kind of a long way from Queens though," he drawled amusedly. "And I'm sure you 'stopping by' has nothing to do with the fact that you can very clearly see Y/N's bedroom window from here."

Peter's flush was instant.

"Oh no-- that's not -- I wasn't--" he stuttered frantically, waving his hands wildly. Bucky let him go on for a while -- a sick sense of glee filling his chest as he watched his daughter's ex-boyfriend panic. Eventually he raised his hand, and Peter instantly fell silent.

"C'mon kid, let's not start this out with a lie. Why don't you tell me why you're really here?"

"I just...wanted to check and see if she's okay," Peter murmured after another pregnant pause, voice so quiet he was barely audible. Bucky turned to face him more fully, and felt a little of his lingering anger dissolve at the look of utter sadness splayed across the young boy's features.

"She's not." Bucky replied firmly. "But I think you would've already known that, seeing as you were the one to end things."

"Yeah I know," he muttered. Peter's hand flicked towards his face, gloved fingertips batting away a few of the tears he'd let escape. "But I didn't really have much of a choice."

"So I've heard," Bucky hummed. "I think I know why that is, but why don't you tell me why you think that is."

Peter paused, tear-filled eyes staring off into the distance as he contemplated his next words carefully. Bucky let him think, taking the time to study Peter's face more fully in the meantime. His eyes were puffy and red from his tears, but the dark purple circles under them made it clear that this wasn't the first time he'd cried recently. The skin of his face was paler than usual, and his cheeks looked a little gaunt.

All in all, Peter looked miserable.

If he were being honest with himself, Bucky would have to admit that the sight of his pain was a little satisfying -- after all, he was the reason Y/N had been so heartbroken lately. But it was the look in the young boy's eyes that kept him from feeling too smug. It was the same dull, lifeless look that he'd seen in his daughter's eyes for weeks. Bucky couldn't help but feel his heart reach out for the kid as he noted his evident suffering.

"I thought she'd just be better off without me," Peter's soft reply broke him out of his thoughts abruptly. "I mean, you saw what happened with those girls. All because of me, because of Spiderman, and I just thought if I cut things off now then hopefully she could just...I dunno, move on? Find somebody new, someone normal, that way she'd always be…"

"Safe?" Bucky supplied quietly. Peter's eyes snapped to the older man's face, expression one of complete surprise. He nodded slowly before casting his eyes away once more.

"Yeah," he managed to reply, voice cracking as his tears began flowing once more. Bucky sighed, scooting closer to him and placing a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder. Peter jumped a little at the contact, but he didn't move away like Bucky expected. They sat that way for a few minutes -- Peter sobbing quietly and Bucky sitting stoically next to him.

"Did I ever tell you about the first time I held Y/N?" Bucky asked plainly. Peter sniffled, head turning upwards to face the older man in surprise.

"N-no sir. I don't think we've ever actually talked before today," Peter replied slowly.

"Yeah, that's probably true," Bucky chuckled. "But it's worth telling now."

Peter nodded, eyes still trained on Bucky, a look of confusion overtaking his features.

"Well obviously Steve was the first one to hold her -- he barely waited until they hosed her off before he snatched her up," he recalled fondly, chuckling a little at the memory. Peter too cracked a smile at the mental image, and Bucky scored himself an imaginary point for managing to keep the kid from crying for a minute.

"But when I finally managed to pry her away from him long enough for me to hold her, the very first thing I felt was this overwhelming sense of love. But almost immediately that love led to this feeling of terror," he continued, the smile sliding from his face. "I mean, there she was -- just the tiniest little thing you'd ever seen, her entire body fit practically in my hand she was so small. I was overcome with complete panic when I realized just how fragile she was. I just stood there for a minute, picturing all of the terrible things that could happen to her, that sweet little alien-looking thing. How on earth was I supposed to keep her safe, when so much of mine and Steve's lives were filled with constant danger?"

Peter didn't move an inch, his entire being enthralled by Bucky's story.

"I struggled with that a lot when Y/N was younger. Hell, I'd be lying if I said I didn't still struggle with it -- I think that's a big part of why I'm so protective of her now, as I'm sure you've noticed," Bucky smiled wryly. To his credit, even though Bucky could tell Peter was fighting the urge to scoff he merely nodded dumbly in response. “Yeah sorry about that I guess? I mean I’m not, but I feel like I should say that.”

Peter chuckled a little at the brutal honesty, the slightest hint of an amused smile quirking at the edges of his lips. Bucky gleefully scored himself another mental point before he continued.

“I spent every second I could with her after we brought her home, just watching her sleep and making sure she was safe. They say parents don’t get any sleep with a newborn, but I legitimately didn’t sleep for more than an hour at a time for almost a month. Unless I knew Steve was awake, I couldn’t bring myself to take my eyes off her. Eventually I got so burnt out that I had a full blown panic attack and Steve finally forced me to take a break. He all but locked me in our room, and wouldn’t let me come out until I’d finally gotten some decent rest. It was hard, but I knew in my mind that he was right -- while I was stuck in there I wound up doing a lot of thinking. And do you know what I realized?”

Peter shook his head, brown eyes wide and locked onto Bucky’s face as he breathlessly waited for the answer. Bucky looked him directly in the eyes, pausing for a moment. He wanted to ensure that Peter heard and understood everything that he was about to say.

“Even though bad things might happen to Y/N because of our lifestyles, she was better off with us than without,” Bucky stated firmly. Peter’s face scrunched in confusion for the briefest of moments but Bucky saw a flash of understanding pass through his eyes. The young boy glanced away, spurring Bucky to continue. “True, I couldn’t and can’t protect her from everything, but she was gonna grow up with the biggest, strangest, and most loving family a kid could hope for. Not to mention the fact that she was born into a family full of extremely capable superhumans and assassins that would literally kill for her. Sure she was going to inevitably run into problems from time to time, but as long as she had us to teach her and protect her then I truly felt she would be alright.”

Peter swallowed thickly and the two sat silently for a few minutes as they let the gravity of Bucky’s words sink in. Sometimes it was all too easy to forget just how young Peter really was, but he'd never looked more his age than in this moment. His eyes were cast downward and his tear soaked lashes were so long that they rested across his pink-splotched cheeks as he cried. Bucky patted his back comfortingly as he waited. After a few moments, Bucky internally wondered if he should continue, but Peter spoke up before he had a chance.

“But don’t you ever-- I dunno, feel like guilty?”, Peter blurted out curiously. “I mean even just that little fight was enough to freak me out completely. I can’t...I don’t ever want her to get hurt because of me.”

“I get it kid, I used to feel the same way,” Bucky exhaled through his nose, a soft chuckle unintentionally bubbling out of his throat at the insinuation. “But believe me, I learned very early on that if Y/N wants to get into a fight, then she will. I think she takes too much after Steve, the two of them are so damned stubborn that they almost make me seem like the level-headed one.”

Peter laughed out loud for the first time all night, and Bucky would be willing to bet it was the first time in much longer than that. He chuckled along with him, slightly proud of the look of fondness that took over his boyish features.

"Yeah. Yeah that's probably true." Peter chuckled.

"Mmmmhm. So, you feeling any better kid?"

Peter nodded earnestly, fingers brushing away the last of his tears.

"Good," Bucky hummed. "Now, I'm going to need you to fix things with my daughter, otherwise you and I are going to have a very different kind of conversation. Am I clear?"

"Y-yes sir," Peter replied meekly, an audible gulp escaping the poor boy. Bucky grinned widely, clapping his hand on his back once more.

"Knew I could count on you."

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

Peter couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy.

Sitting on the couch, you were wrapped so tightly around him that he couldn't hardly tell where his limbs ended and yours began. You were curled up in his lap, his arms cadging your back firmly against his front as his face rested into the crook of your neck. There was some movie playing on the giant tv in front of the two of you, but Peter wasn't paying attention to it at all; he was too awestruck by his sheer luck, eternally grateful to be with you again after so long.

Even though he couldn't see your face from his position, he could tell that you were on the verge of falling asleep. Every few minutes your fingers would pause on their trek up and down his forearm and your head would roll even further backwards as you drifted asleep before snapping back upwards once more. He chuckled fondly at you, placing a sweet kiss to your cheek as a feeling of warmth spread throughout his entire body.

"You're exhausted sweet girl," he murmured into your neck softly. "Go ahead and sleep, I can tell you're fighting it."

You shook your head stubbornly, adorably clinging to his arms even tighter at the insinuation.

"M'not," you protested through a yawn. Little butterflies swirled in Peter's tummy at the sound of the pout evident in your voice. He placed another kiss to your cheek, unable to contain the feeling of joy that'd been coursing though him since he'd first gotten you back in his arms.

"You are though," he chuckled.

"I don't wanna sleep," you argued. "Too afraid this was all just a really good dream."

Peter's chest immediately felt heavy, arms winding around you more securely at your whispered confession. He understood exactly what you meant. To be perfectly honest, he was having a hard time believing this was real too.

He knew it was probably just teenage dramatics, but the two weeks that he’d spent without you felt like the longest weeks of his life -- weeks spent in absolute misery. It’d seemed like the only solution at the time, but he’d had an increasingly difficult time justifying that choice when not being with you had been so difficult. He was honestly reaching his breaking point long before your dad had sat him down to talk about things, so it didn’t take much convincing on Bucky’s part to get him to change his mind.

But now, as he found himself perched outside your bedroom window he couldn't help but worry that he might've done permanent damage to your relationship. He felt his heart shrivel and harden at the prospect that you may not forgive him, but he couldn't possibly blame you for it. Hell, he'd hated himself since the moment he ended things.

He was only outside your window in the first place because as soon as you'd realized it was him, you'd swiftly slammed the door in his face. He'd tried pleading with you through the wood, but he couldn't tell if any of it was getting through because (outside of some choice swears) you hadn't said a word in response. So, desperate and on his last chance, he'd crawled outside your bedroom window, hoping that even if you didn't speak to him that at least he'd be able to see your face again. Ignoring the weight that settled in his stomach as he took note of your reddened eyes and tear stained cheeks through the glass, he'd focused on saying what he came there to say. You simply stood in the middle of your room stoically with your arms crossed as he rambled on through the pre-planned speech he’d come up with as he tossed and turned all night.

Eventually he reached the end of his hastily prepared monologue, and he fell silent, waiting anxiously for you to respond. The seconds that passed felt like hours as you contemplated things, and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest as he cautiously appraised your every move. A stab of fear and defeat ripped through his chest the moment he realized that you weren’t going to budge. Fresh tears welling in his eyes, he turned to leave, the feeling of defeat and sorrow weighing heavily on his limbs until he felt an actual weight on his arm.

You grabbed his wrist before he’d even moved an inch.

Glaring at him as your own tears slipped silently down your cheeks, you dropped his arm before opening the window wide enough for him to fit through. He sniffled and shot you a desperate look, to which you responded only by rolling your eyes and motioning for him to come inside. Once he'd scrambled through, he could only muster up enough courage to stand wordlessly in the once familiar room as he waited for you to make the next move.

"You're an idiot."

Though your words were biting, Peter couldn't help but think to himself that, after not hearing your voice for weeks, they were the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

"I know," he swallowed thickly. You scoffed, fingers swiping your cheeks angrily to remove the lingering traces of your tears as you stared him down.

"What you did really sucked," you continued crossing your arms protectively in front of your chest. "And just because I get why you did it now doesn't change that."

"I know," he agreed, tears silently beginning to fall from his eyes. You sucked in a shuddering breath. "You're absolutely right, I'm an idiot."

You chuckled a little bit at his admission, your arms dropping by your sides.

"I wish you would've just talked to me. Told me what you were feeling, you know?" you replied in a near-whisper. "Cause just getting cut-off from you all at once...it really sucked."

Your bottom lip began to tremble and fresh tears began to run down your face uncontrollably. Peter swore he could actually hear a crack echo in the small room as his heart broke at the sight of you. Unable to physically handle the distance between the two of you for a moment longer, he wasted little time in crossing the short space and pulling you into his arms.

To his immense relief, you allowed him to pull you into his chest easily, your arms wrapping around his body just as tightly. He thrust his face into your messy hair, and your face buried itself into his chest instantly. It wasn't long before he felt your hot tears seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt, but he really couldn't care less at the moment. Especially given the fact that he was sure you could feel his own tears soaking through your hair.

"I-I'm so sorry Y/N," he sobbed, his voice muffled from the way he pressed his face to your head. "I'm s-so sorry angel, I'm such an idiot. I hated every single second I wasn't with y-you, and I swear I'll never do anything like that ever again."

Your only response was to pull him impossibly closer to you, your arms practically clawing at his back in the process.

The two of you had stood like that for an immeasurable amount of time, sobbing into each other in that dramatic way only teenagers really could, until eventually both your eyes had run dry. Then you just talked. First about the whole situation and then about everything the two of you had missed about the other in the time you weren't speaking. Peter had come to see you early in the morning, but by the time all was said and done it was already the early evening. Despite the fact that the two of you were exhausted, neither one of you were willing to part just yet and thus you'd wound up where you were now, cuddling in one of the Tower's many common rooms.

Peter exhaled tensely, your quiet admission sending a stab of guilt deep into his chest. He kissed the top of your head apologetically.

"I'm so sorry y/n," he murmured against your hair. "I can't explain how sorry I am that I've made you feel like you can't count on me anymore."

You were so silent that, for a moment, Peter thought you might've finally succumbed to your evident exhaustion. It wasn't until a few moments later that he felt you snuggle deeper into his hold and place a delicate kiss to his cheek that he realized you hadn't. He couldn't hold back the large grin that overtook his face nor the raging blush that began creeping up his cheeks at your sweet gesture.

"S'okay Petey," you mumbled, clearly on the verge of dozing. "I mean, it's not, but you can just give me constant cuddles from now on and then we'll be good."

Peter let out a breathy giggle, feelings of amusement and affection surging through his chest at the determined, and yet sleepy tone of your voice. He felt your breaths even out, and he placed a light kiss to your hair as he listened to the slow, comforting thumping of your heartbeat.

"Don't worry angel, already planning on it."

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

"Buck, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Steve whispered, stopping dead in his tracks and pulling his husband to a stop through their interconnected hands. Bucky frowned a bit as his eyes scanned the room, wondering what could've possibly been behind the pure shock lacing Steve's tone. They were on their way out, intent on spending some time alone together for the first time in a long while, and Bucky knew something big must've caught his husband's attention if he was making the time to stop.

"What?" he questioned confusedly after finding seemingly nothing amiss in the common room. Steve nudged him gently, wide eyes darting towards one of Stark's insanely expensive leather couches as if to say 'there, look over there dummy!'. Bucky felt his brows furrow deeper as he struggled to process what could possibly have his husband so worked up. It was just Y/N and Peter, the two of them sitting disgustingly close to one another as they idly watched some movie on the Tower's practically movie-theater sized tel--

Oh.

Steve grinned at the sight of the two of them, squeezing Bucky's hand excitedly as he watched them.

"That's great, I didn't know they were back together, did you?"

Bucky merely grunted in response, rolling his eyes and feigning nonchalance whilst internally feeling exceedingly relieved that things would hopefully go back to normal now. He felt so light, in fact, that a deep chuckle burst through his chest before he could stop it-- although he quickly covered it with a cough.

The sound of him clearing his throat did not go unnoticed, Peter lifted his cheek slightly from the top of your head to look at the two super soldiers. His face immediately broke out into a furious blush, and though he would normally scramble away from you at the sight of your dads, he didn't move a muscle. Instead, he simply smiled nervously in their direction.

Steve's face broke out into an even bigger grin, and he nodded curtly at the young boy before looking at Bucky with a very smug 'I told you so' face.

Bucky rolled his eyes in fake annoyance, but shot Peter a knowing wink once Steve turned away. He scored himself a final mental point for sorting things out with Parker as he allowed his husband to pull him towards the door. The teen smiled and returned his attention to your sleeping form, feeling much happier than he had in weeks.

Taglist: @beth-winchester21 , @peters-legos, @lou-la-lou

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lvanter · 5 years ago

Text

description: jisung falls in love while getting coffee, luckily you leave your number on his cup.

note: repost lol !!! i hate t*mblr ++ this is for @jeon-skv for being the loml and @lunarjisung for being alive okay bye

warning: swearing like once or twice, coffee, slight (??) jealousy

wc: 1.4k

“me? are you sure?? ; han jisung”

jisung wasn’t a jealous person, and yet he had always been jealous of hyunjin

hyunjin and jisung was best friends.

they had been since forever, and jisung loved hyunjin! he really did!

but damn how he wished he could be as charming as him.

jisung was charming in his own way, he was well aware of that.

but hyunjin was charming in a way that everybody loved him within minutes of knowing him.

hyunjin was handsome. everybody could see that.

from his eyes to his lips to his perfectly styled hair to his—

“jisung! are you listening to me?” hyunjin snapped his fingers in front of jisungs face, a pout evident on his face.

“hmm? what? yes,” jisung lied.

hyunjin shot his friend a deadpan look, “you’re a terrible liar,” he scoffed.

“sorry,” jisung kicked a stone out of the way, “what were you talking about?”

hyunjin groaned dramatically, “it doesn’t matter,” he pushed the door to their favorite coffee shot open.

“c’mon, my prince, tell me what you said,”

hyunjin glared at the younger boy, getting a laugh from him, “don’t call me that”

“my prince? is that what i shouldn’t call you? is it my prince?”

hyunjin landed a couple of soft punches on jisungs arm.

“ow, ow, stop, that hurts,” jisung laughed, taking a few steps away from his friend.

the two boys stood in line, talking quietly, to not disturb the other customers.

jisung looked around the coffee shop he had been in so many times, he noticed how it was mostly filled with students around their age.

he also noticed the amount of people glancing at hyunjin.

jisung instantly felt some confidence leave his body.

of course no one was looking at him.

or at least that’s what he thought.

you quickly duck under the counter, pretending you dropped something, when he looked your way.

“what are you doing?” your coworker and good friend, chaeryoung asked, looking down at you with a look of confusion, two cups of coffee in her hands.

“cute boy,” you murmured, standing up again, brushing some dirt off your jeans.

“ah,” chaeryoung nodded understandingly, as she handed your other coworker the coffees, “which one?” she looked over the cafe.

you checked the orders and began making one of them, as chaeyoung began guessing.

“is it the tall one? black hair, mole under his eye,”

“no, and get back to work, please,”

“(name),” she whined, “tell me who it is,”

“will it make you go back to working?”

she nodded profusely.

“the guy with the cute cheeks,” you mumbled, finishing up the coffee.

“the one with the grey hoodie on?” she asked, taking the finished coffee from you and handing it to the same coworker as before.

“yes,”

“(name)? can you take my place for the next few orders?” one of your coworkers said, pointing to his place behind the counter, where he usually took orders.

“sure,” you nodded at him, and walked over, “hi, what can i get you?” you asked without looking up.

hyunjin cleared his throat before ordering.

you nodded and punched it in, throwing him a polite smile. you carefully wrote his name on the cup.

hyunjin stepped away from the counter after paying. he gave jisung a slight poke on the shoulder, “i’ll find us somewhere to sit,”

jisung nodded and watched as he walked away to find a table.

(they weren’t gonna stay in the shop after getting their drinks, but they were both lazy and didn’t wanna stand up while they waited.)

you swallowed hard, when you realized who was next. you mentally hyped yourself up, and prayed you wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself, as he stepped closer, “hi, what can i get you?”

“uhhh,” jisung’s eyes widened when they landed on you. holy shit. you were stunning. what the fuck? he thought.

fuck, he has to say something, “uh, just… just a large iced americano…”

“large iced americano.” you mumbled under your breath, as you punched it in.

cute, jisung thought, staring at your face. he saw you look back up at him and mouth something.

it took him some time to realize you said something, “what did you say?” he blurted out, his eyes wide.

your giggle was music to his ears, and he decided he wanted to hear it forever.

“i asked you what your name was,”

“j-jisung,” he mentally cursed at himself for stuttering.

“okay,” you wrote his name in the cup, “i’ll call you when your order is ready,” you gave him the same polite smile you gave everybody, but jisung couldn’t help but hope it meant something more.

he walked over to the table hyunjin had sat at, but stopped when he noticed the group of girls and guys talking to him.

jisung sighed, and made his way through everybody, “‘xcuse me,” he sat down on the open chair across from hyunjins.

hyunjin gave him a short smile, and turned back to the conversation he had with three of the girls.

jisung leaned back in his seat with a heavy sigh. the image of your cute face flashed through his head.

“you should write your number on the cup,” chaeryoung stated, a big, beautiful smile on her face, “he was clearly interested in you,”

“chae, no,”

“(name), yes. just write your number and something like ‘call me’. what’s the worst that can happen?”

“he could be a creep,” you responded, as you began making the coffee.

“c’mon, (name). just do it,” she pulled the arm, making you nearly drop the coffee.

“chae!” you gasped.

“sorry,” she apologized timidly, “but seriously, write your number on the cup. if he’s creepy you can block him and we have him on tape!”

after pestering you while you made the coffee you finally gave in, and wrote your number on jisungs cup.

the two boys got their coffee and walked out of the shop with their warm drinks.

they got to the bus stop, when hyunjin noticed the numbers on jisung’s cup, “someone has an admirer,” he teased.

“what?” jisung checked his cup, where hyunjin pointed at. his face flushed and his heart began pounding. “it’s-it’s...it was probably meant for you..”

“hmmm, nope,” hyunjin smiled, “it is very clearly written on your cup,”

hyunjin knew jisung weren’t as confident as people thought, and having someone as cute as you liking him could most definitely boost it.

“you should text ‘em,”

jisungs eyes got wide, “are you serious?”

“yes, jisung. why wouldn’t i be?” hyunjin raised an eyebrow.

jisung looked down at the cup in silence. he was gonna text you later, he decided.

jisung nearly threw the cup out, when he got home; the only reason he didn’t was because hyunjin texted him about remembering to text you.

he took a deep breath and punched the numbers into his phone.

“what do i even say?” he frustrated asked himself, plopping down on the couch.

he quickly pulled up hyunjins contact and sent a text asking what he should say.

his highness, prince hyunjin: say hi???

his highness, prince hyunjin: say “hey it’s jisung, you gave me your number earlier”

hhhhhhh

okay

jisung thought for a bit before sending a message

hi! it’s jisung. you gave me your number earlier

was it meant for me or my friend lol??

he meant to delete the second text, but, of fucking course, his fingers were dysfunctional and he ended up hitting send.

he bit his lip and threw his phone down to his feet.

he doesn’t know how long he waited for a text back, but he kept lying on the couch.

the second his phone buzzed he sprang up and grabbed it.

v v cute barista: hi jisung!! i was hoping you would text me ngl i’m (name)!!

v v cute barista: and unless your friend was the one wearing the grey hoodie and had the cutest cheeks i’ve very seen then it was meant for you

jisungs face heated up at your words.

no, that was me

but like me?? are you sure???

his breath hitched as he read your next text.

v v cute barista: i have never been so sure of anything

v v cute barista: wanna go on a date?

604 notes · View notes

harryimaginestuff · 6 years ago

Text

Dreams Part 3

So sorry for it being a bit late! Ngl I'm not 100% happy with it but ah well. But here you go, the final part to Dreams !

Word count: 2515

Genre: Angst

You huffed in annoyance, once again fiddling with the strap on your shoulder as you sat in your living room awaiting James’ arrival. You were torn, your mind reeling about the possible intentions of tonight.

Whilst you had never expressed any interest in your co-worker before, you couldn’t help but to let your mind drift to the possibility of spending the night and morning with him. Struggling to find other means of curing your heartache since your current distractions were no longer working, perhaps the comfort of another body would do the trick.

After all, upon Mitch’s revelation, Harry clearly had no qualms about replacing you in his mind.

But still, the thought of doing something so cruel to James sat oddly in your stomach, so the thought of physical human comfort was quickly pushed out of your mind. And perhaps you weren’t quite ready yet to fall into the arms of another with Harry’s scent still fresh in the house, courtesy of the perfume bottle you kept on your bedside at night, and his touch still pulsing through your veins.

You were awoken out of your thoughts suddenly as the buzzer rang, insinuating that James was waiting below and so you whisked yourself out the door repeating to yourself that a night out would be good.

“Hi y/n.” James greeted you with a tight hug as you stepped out of the building to which you returned the gesture. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you, so do you.” You blushed, as you gently pushed him in the direction of the bar.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you all week,”

“I’ve just been super busy, I asked our boss to give me some extra work to keep me…” you drifted off, the both of you knowing exactlywhat for.

“Oh.”

Silence filled the air as the two of you walked side by side until you reached the bar, when suddenly you were interrupted by your phone ringing.

“Whoops sorry, let me just see.” Pulling your phone out of your bag you frowned as Mitch’s name flashed across the screen.

“Do you need to get that?” James asked, concern in voice.

“No, it’s fine, I’m sure it’s nothing.” You replied, although deep down you knew it was nothing, after all it was once in a blue moon that you received a call from Harry’s best friend.

As the two of you consumed drinks, conversation began to flow smoothly despite the rough start. And soon enough the pain in your chest was nothing but a dull ring.

“I’m gonna get the next round.” James laughed, continuing your playful fight on who pays for what.

“But you got the last one.”

“And then you can get the next two.” Your hand slipped over his, a last attempt to stop him from going to the bar with his card causing his gaze to quickly shift to yours as you gripped the back of his hand.

“That’s not fa-”

“Y/N?” you froze unsure if the large amounts of alcohol in your system was causing you to hallucinate. If the voice that you had just heard was really what you thought. If the sight in the corner of your eyes was really what it seemed. If the scent was really the one that mimicked the bottle on your bedside.

And so, by some twist of fate, as you turned slowly, there he was standing before you. So many emotions coursed through your body; anger, sadness, resentment, but most prevalent was love.Yet still, the latter was quickly pushed to the side as your drunken mind recalled Mitch’s words.

Your hand still remained on top of James’, who was sat there in silence looking between the exes whilst he slowly tried to slip his hand out from under yours which only caused you to grip it harder in an irresponsible game of who’s moved on the fastest.

“Harry.” You replied bluntly

“I went to our, your, apartment. You weren’t there.” Harry mumbled, his eyes glaring at the sight in front of him. What the hell is she doing? “So, I came here, I don’t know why though.”

You swallowed thickly, finally letting go of James’ hand as Harry turned his glare to you a sadistic laugh escaping his mouth.

“I didn’t expect to find you. At all really. But especially not like this. It’s nice to see that you’ve wasted no time, huh?” Harry knew he was being irrational, that his accusations were not warranted, especially because the situation you were both in was all of his fault. But he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help but allow the jealousy to take over as his vision went red with anger, so he continued his attacks. “It hasn’t taken you very long to move on then has it.”

He watched as your face went from shock to sadness and then finally to anger.

“No. It hasn’t.” you snarkily replied, reaching over to find James’ hand, only to find that it was no longer there.

Harry huffed aggressively, rolling his eyes, an attempt to roll away the tears that were threatening to fall. “Fuck this.” He whispered, before turning on his heel and storming out.

“Shit,” you mumbled turning to look at the man who was sat opposite you, his eyebrows drawn together as he tried to process the events that had just taken place in front of him.

“Well that was awkward.” He spoke after a minute of silence.

“I’m so sorry,” you replied absentmindedly, as your head spun as well. “Anyways, where were we?”

James sighed leaning forward ever so slightly so he could look you in the eyes, “Look, I know that you know how I feel about you; I mean it’s not as if I’ve been subtle at all. So saying this takes a lot of willpower.” He spoke, his eyes gentle and sympathetic. “Leave.”

“James…” you trailed off, somewhat hurt by his abrupt demand.

“I think you should go.” His harsh words were spoken with such gentility that you knew he meant no harm. “It’s clear that you’re still in love with him, which I get, you’ve only been apart for two weeks, and I just want to let you know that me inviting you out tonight was not me making a move. I think you’re a great person and a great friend.”

“And now that we’ve cleared that up, I think you and Harry have some cleaning up to do as well.”

You found yourself 20 minutes later outside of Mitch’s apartment, hands shaking as you approached the door. However, before you could knock, the door swung open, revealing a very distraught Mitch who speedily ushered you in.

“Fucking finally, I’ve been calling and calling you for ages.” He said, his voice wavering. “He’s gone absolutely mental, he came back from wherever he went and couldn’t stop crying and shouting at the same time. My ears can’t take it anymore.”

“Sorry, I realise now I shouldn’t have pulled that shit on him at the bar.” You spoke, your heart breaking slightly as you could hear the violent sounds coming from the guest room.

“Hey,” Mitch raised his arms in defence, “I have no idea what went down over the last hour, but all I know is that he needs to see you right now because you guys have some talking to do. Now get your ass in that room.”

You breathed slowly as you approached the room, unsure of what you would find behind the door.

“Harry?” you spoke softly as to not contribute to his emotions as you peeked your head around the frame.

His actions stilled, his fists raised in the air, stopping himself from destructing the lamp shade that was in his grip. “Y/n.”

“What are you doing?”

“Ruining things, what does it look like. This shit wouldn’t be the first thing that I’ve single-handedly destroyed.” His eyes were remained on the bed in front of him, the sheets tussled, and pillows spread across the room.

“Look at me please.” You willed to the broken man to face you, just to give you one look so that you would know that his mind was present and no longer far away.

“No.” his voice was stern and his body rigid. “I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Why not Harry?” you were desperate to find an inkling of the man you cared about.

“Because look what you do to me.” He growled, his glare finding yours, only you wish they hadn’t, as the look in his eyes was one of pure anger and rage. “I’m completely miserable, and it’s because of you.” The words he just spoke completely contradicted the ones that had only come out seconds ago.

“And why is that? Why is it because of me?” You spoke, doing your best to remain calm as to not fuel the fire that was burning from deep within him.

“Go away.” He simply mumbled, turning his back to you once again, it seemed that over the past two weeks all you were seeing of him was his back.

“I’m not leaving until you talk.”

“I said get the fuck out!” he screamed, his tone causing you to jump back a little, but rather than listening to you, you only stepped closer until you were stood right behind him. The feeling of the heat that radiated from his body did so much to comfort you, despite the current situation that you were in.

“And I said no!” you said back aggressively and yet wrapped your arms around him from behind.

“Get the hell off me.”

“No.”

“y/n, I swear to god, get off me.”

“No, not until you tell me why you’re miserable. I want to hear you say it.”

You felt Harry’s hands wrap around your wrists causing your heart to rise in hope, only for it to be shot down again as he pried your body off of his and stomped to the other side of the room.

“Because, I’m miserable and you’re going out on dates.” His angry demeanour dropped immediately replaces with complete sorrow. “Because you’ve moved on already and it’s only been two weeks. Because you’ve completely forgotten about me already and it’s like I never even existed in the first place.”

The image of his tears almost brought you to your knees, almost got you to open your arms wide and invite him back into your life.

But no.

Now it was your turn to be angry.

“You’ve been miserable? You as in the person who ended us in the first place. You who refused to talk to me about anything?”

“You didn’t even fight back! You let me leave!”

You wanted to scream as loud as you could at his stupidity as even now he still hadn’t learnt the full repercussion of his actions.

“As if you even gave me a choice. You know for a fact that nothing that I could have said would have changed your mind.” Tears began to run down your face as your chest split open again. “You broke off our engagement, you broke me, but most importantly you broke us.”

Harry’s mouth opened to answer back, but you quickly shut him up.

“I’m not finished! You think I haven’t been miserable?” you were no longer screaming at him, your voice was weak, despite the extreme effort you put into sounding as strong as you could. “Because I have been, these past two weeks have been the absolute worst. I can’t stop fucking crying ever. Everything I look at, I see you and what we had. But then to go through all the shit that you put me through and find out that you kissed someone else a week later, whilst I was busy trying to pick up the pieces that you left behind.” You were completely sobbing now, the only thing holding you together were your hands that were wrapped around your waist.

“I didn’t think you would find out.” Harry spoke, perhaps the worst thing that could have come out of his mouth at the moment.

“And so what? That makes everything okay?” Disbelief clear in your voice.

“No. That not what I meant. That didn’t come out right at all.” Tears were streaming down the both of your faces, and the guilt that Harry had felt only intensified now as he watched the consequences come to life in the form of you in front of him.

“Does she kiss you like I kissed you?” you glared at him.

“Please, y/n.”

“Does she Harry?” He walked hesitantly to you, scared the one wrong move would cause you to run, wrapping his arms around you, you did your best to fight him off, pushing and shoving at his chest in an attempt to let you go, his grip never loosened though, but your fight did as you completely collapsed into his arms, crying into his shirt.

“I’m so sorry.” He spoke, his voice cracking as the substance from your eyes burnt his soul. “I’m so sorry for everything that I did to you. For not talking to you when I know that I should have. For ending the best thing that had happened to me. For not placing the needs of the both of us over my own selfish ones. For kissing that girl, for everything. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered against him.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, I do. I’m sorry for that stunt that I pulled at the bar, I shouldn’t have done that to you, that was incredibly childish of me. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were being forced into something that you didn’t want to be in.”

Harry’s hands gripped your face, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Don’t you ever thing that you forced me into something that I didn’t want, because it’s the complete opposite. All I’ve ever wanted in my life was you. I was just too stupid to see it. You are my life.”

“How can I trust what you say? How do I know that you won’t back out of this again?”

“You don’t know. But I’m telling you now, that I will never ever leave you ever again. Til death do us part.”

“Then if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this slowly. I’m still so mad and upset with you.”

“I know, and I’ll wait for however long it will take for you to forgive me completely.”

Silence surrounded you as you breathed in the scent of his shirt, gripping onto him in fear that he may somehow disappear again.

“Will we be okay?” he asked softly, bringing his lips to your head.

“I think so.” You whispered back.

That was the first night in weeks where you no longer had to dry your tears because Harry was laying there wrapped in your body. The future may have been unclear, but Harry knew now that he would only be dreaming dreams of a life with you.

I hope you guys enjoyed the final part!

Send me your suggestions since I have no idea what to write next.

Lots of love xxx