#edit oh shit i meant to say. read right to left
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#shitty comics#jetfire#starscream#skyfire#i was thinking about restarting my shitty comics series and this time making one about starscream and skyfires academy experience#remember to block the tag 'shitty comics' if you dont want to see any of my scratchy sketchy drawings/comics. same tag across all fandoms#maccadam#transformers#which continuity? great question. dw about it#number 8 is november ajax cuz im not clever enough for names bruh#i want to blabber about this comic and my ideas for all the other ones but i have to shut up#the comic should be able to portray it by itself#ok but i really want to talk#my mom bought me hot chocolate today and im so excited to drink it#i have to wait at least 4 more hours until its morning#ill go yap somewhere else#edit oh shit i meant to say. read right to left
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Christmas Valentine
A/N: This one was requested by @writingsoftheloser, and I loved it so so much! Thank you so much for requesting! I had the idea for it and then I came across the song Christmas Valentine by Jason Mraz & Ingrid Michaelson and it is so Bucky and gave me all the feels and ughh... just give it a listen please 🥹🥹I really hope you all like it!
2. "You shouldn't have"
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (no pronouns, reader is called doll)
Word count: 1k
Holiday prompts ⛄
'Twas the night before Christmas, when every corner of the common room was bathed in the warm glow of sparkling colored lights. The chimney crackled, casting a cozy fire across the room. Everyone was dressed in their festive best, and joy permeated the air… and Bucky would much rather be in his room.
He remembered Christmas, he truly did, Steve made sure of that, and it’s not that he didn’t like everyone - he liked Steve, and Nat sometimes, and Sam could be somewhat tolerable every now and then. Yet, this Christmas, his first after everything, he preferred observing from a distance. A bottomless glass of scotch kept him company, the amber liquid warming him as he contentedly watched from afar, even if it meant being away from you.
“Merry Christmas everyone!” Ah, shit, you. How could he forget to include you on his mental list of people he enjoys? Bucky caught himself smiling into his glass when you entered the crowded room with your cheerful exclamation. Nat hugged you, Wanda playfully placed a Santa hat on your head, and despite the festive welcome from others, you still searched for Bucky and shared a quiet smile across the room.
God… the way he felt for you. He never thought after all those years he would be able to feel something like that again, something that felt so warm even though it must be snowing outside.
The night went on, food and drinks came and went, and the two-week-long Secret Santa that had been going on was finally revealed. It was right after the gift exchange when you began walking towards him, with a beautiful ear-to-ear smile on your face courtesy of the festivities and the sweet drinks Wanda kept giving you.
“Merry Christmas,” you greeted him. “I’m sorry I didn’t come by before, I was dragged to the whole thing as soon as I arrived.” You laughed slightly, remembering to the way you were engulfed by your teammates.
“I could see that,” Bucky laughed too, more discreetly, but laughed too. “Merry Christmas, by the way.” He knew he sounded awkward when he said it, almost as if he wasn’t quite sure if those were the words he wanted to say, but when your cheeks heated up and your smile got shyer, he knew he had to be doing something right.
“Hey, listen I- uhm-” It was your turn to be awkward as you fidgeted with the gift bag on your hands. "I know you didn't want to be part of the Secret Santa thing but I can't let you celebrate Christmas without a gift." Bucky decided to keep the image of your reddening cheeks forever in his head, perhaps for a rainy day.
"Oh, doll. Why did you bother yourself with this?" The festive paper bag in your hands reached the top of the table, and Bucky hesitated to reach for it.
"You are never a bother, Buck. This is the least I could do to thank you for all the training."
Bucky chuckled to himself as you pushed the bag towards him, finally grabbing it, and once he opened it, his cautious smile turned into surprise. "You shouldn't have."
"Nonsense." You shrugged as he revealed the first edition of The Hobbit you had gifted him. "Remember that time you called me a Hobbit because I kept referring to your missions as adventures?”
"Of course I do." Bucky laughed softly. "Of course, I do," Bucky laughed softly. The gift, a first edition of The Hobbit, left him genuinely touched.
“I also may have overheard you say to Sam that you read it when it came out. I though maybe you could have a little thing from back then, now.”
"This is… this is wonderful." You took this thankfulness with a smile. Contrary to his words, though, he groaned. "Well, now this is embarrassing, but I might also… uhm…" He reached down his chair, pulling out a gift bag. "I also got you something but it's not nearly as good as yours."
You gasped dramatically at the sight of the bag, making grabby hands for it. "For me?!" Bucky nodded, silently confirming your question and watching you intently. Every move you made tightened his stomach into a tighter knot, not sure if you would even like it - opening the bag, taking out the little box inside it, untying the ribbon from it… every second felt like torture for him.
You took in a sharp breath when you opened the box, admiring the beautiful necklace Bucky had gifted you; you had seen it before, that one time you went downtown with him. You thought he wouldn't have even noticed, but he not only watched your eyes shine at the sight of it, he also went back that same afternoon to buy it to make sure no one else got it first.
"Bucky, this is- this is gorgeous.” Your fingers ghosted delicately above it. “You shouldn’t have.” You repeated his words, making him chuckle slightly.
“How could I not? You kept going back to look at it.” He freed your hands from it, standing up right in front of you and circling your neck with his hands; his lotion made you take a deep breath and hold it as he kept moving closer, you had never seen him move so gently as he placed the chain around your neck and clasped the lock, making sure it was straight before taking a step back again.
“It's beautiful.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your fingers toying with the charm as you looked up to smile at him.
Bucky nodded, a quiet “yes, it is” confirming what he saw right in front of him.
“Buck, I-” A call for your name interrupted you.
“Go, I’ll come find you later,” Bucky promised, hoping your thoughts mirrored his. Before leaving you kissed his cheek and squeezed his flesh arm, your way of telling him he better come find you soon.
“Would you look at that, the robot has feelings.” Sam sneaked up on him, patting his back and walking past him to get a drink.
“Leave him alone, Sam.” Steve warned, not without his own squeeze to his shoulder with an encouraging “Good one, Buck”. He had never seen his friend happier, his eyes lost in the crowd not able to stop looking at you. Bucky remembered Christmas, he was sure he did, but he had never loved Christmas lights as much as he liked them reflecting in your eyes right then.
🦾🎄🦾🎄🦾🎄🦾🎄🦾🎄🦾🎄🦾🎄🦾🎄
Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky fluff#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#boyfriend!bucky#bucky barnes#soft bucky#bucky imagine#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#sebastian stan
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your requested reminder to post knives going nuclear on zazie when you can :)
ok so im going to be reblogging this to the body horrors week later cause. uh. well. knives. quite literally goes nuclear?
all of these screenshots are from the overhaul project cause i haven't managed to catch the dark horse digital editions on sale yet, though i'll provide the dark horse translations where i can because i have physical copies, and the dark horse translations are imo clearer here.
there are ids in all the alt texts for the photos, it's why this took several days longer than i'd originally planned -finger guns- alt texts might look a little weird in the first set btw - tumblr started eating the photoset and i had to spend an extra half an hour fixing it -finger guns-
the pages are volume 11, pages 90-92, and 114-17, because a lot of the pages in between are leadup pages and also have the zazie control worm. thing.
pages 90-2 are the distant explosion (you can click on the first image and see it in the photo viewer, if for some reason it will not view in dashboard mode. But it does exist!)
(on page 90, dark horse is a lot more specific, with "the northeast sky is glowing" instead of "the whole sky is glowing". the other two boxes with text read "what is--?!" and "oh my..!" respectfully as if they were cut off mid sentence.)
so uh.
knives went uh.
literal "nuclear bomb exploded just above a town"
because he kind of did. Unlike a true nuclear bomb, he did not form a mushroom cloud, but the metaphor is still there. that is a nuclear metaphor
per pages 114-117 (pages are from left to right, read the pages right to left. sorry)
(legato's speech bubbles on page 114 in the dark horse edition read: Survival of the fittest is the law of nature. What is about to happen now is a just a logical extension of that. Be very afraid. You are in his presence. Did you not notice, Leader of the Sand Worms?
It reads very differently, imo, more like Zazie was caught up in their own plots and schemes to realize the control worm didn't work. Legato is also telling Zazie that Zazie should be afraid of Knives. Okay? Not asking if Zazie is afraid. Telling Zazie to be afraid. Like some sort of reverse "Be Not Afraid" from the bible.
Zazie's thought bubbles on page 115 are translated as "the dark hole is swallowing the poison" which reads more like knives made a black hole. given the visuals? that sounds more likely. Black holes, as a real life thing that we know about and have tried to study, are often referred to as swallowing things that pass too close. knives made a mini black hole to eat the poison from the sand worm venom. knives has consumed the dependent plants.)
the fact is, as a metatextual read, plants are nuclear reactors. independent plants are walking nuclear bombs. Nightow did this on purpose. We're meant to read them as something nuclear.
This is, as i was saying to @needle-noggins the other night when i was working on it in an attempt to get more of the alt texts written, a casual display of power. Knives is throwing a hissy fit! Knives is throwing a multi-megaton display of power because Zazie tried to take him over with the control worm. Page 91 had needle-noggins and i speechless because on the low end that tower of debris from the explosion is (if we did the very, very rough math right) THIRTY MILES TALL. Twice as tall as the tallest mountain in the solar system, Olympus Mons! or roughly five and a half times as tall as Mount Everest. On the outside, because we figured its anywhere from 25-30 times taller than the cloud cover, it could be up to thirty seven miles
Over halfway to space on earth.
like.
I know we love the independent plants and all. But Holy Shit. just.
holy shit
#myde talks#trigun#trigun maximum#trimax#millions knives#zazie the beast#legato bluesummers#long post#trigun meta#meta#writing alt text is very hard for me i am trying very hard to make them both descriptive but also not too bogged down with details#if i miss something in them PLEASE TELL ME#i am trying#i also started writing this at like midnight on friday night and then was continuing it on saturday after work and lemme tell you#hell is real and it is working retail during the holidays on saturday#anyway#if someone wants to give my INCREDIBLY ROUGH ESTIMATE of how much bigger the tower of debris is than gunsmokes cloud cover#please do#im curious
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Beautiful Mess - Chapter 5
The end of the road is nigh with Chapter 5 for Beautiful Mess! It's been such a joy and so freeing to right what initially began as a sweet one-shot of Kate gaining a crush on Anthony before fully developing into a story about Kate's denial and clownery regarding whether or not Anthony liked her back. And now it's coming to an end and damn, I am so sad ;_; but I have loved every moment of this fic and I'm so happy to give it a finale.
Of course, this might not be the end... epilogues do exist, after all... 👀
Anyway, I am posting this here before AO3 because this is where Beautiful Mess began, so please enjoy and I do apologise for any vibes that are off, spelling errors and anything else. This is well and truly unbeta'd and while it has been edited, it is not perfect. Still, I hope you all enjoy and thank you for keeping up with this fic and reading it on here! Love you all! <3 ======================================
Kate was going to kill Benedict.
She wasn’t exactly sure just how she would do it, of course; she simply knew that it would be slow and painful, maybe even a touch dramatic. It’s what the twit deserved, after all.
Taking a deep breath, Kate did her best not to let any expletives fall from her lips as she turned back to the bar door. She had to leave, now. Had to go before her heart could shatter all over again if she caught even a glimpse of his face, heard the timber of his voice...
“Kate?”
Shit.
She stopped at the sound of his voice, the deep rumble sending a shiver down her spine. The sound of her name upon his lips sounded hopeful, almost, as if he had been waiting to say it all along.
As if he had been waiting for her since the morning she fled.
Squeezing the handle of her bag, Kate silently cursed herself for not being quicker, for getting her hopes up and thinking that he might have missed her. Of course he didn’t, she told herself. He only wants to clean up the mess I left behind.
Steeling her nerves, Kate closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she finally turned around, her gaze immediately landing on the very man that had invaded her thoughts – and eventually her dreams – since their very first meeting in that pub far too long ago.
The very same pub that, she realised, Benedict had invited her to that evening. Oh, she was definitely going to kill the bastard, now.
Shaking her head, Kate slowly picked her way through the cluster of people towards the bar where Anthony sat, his gaze fixed on her in what she supposed was disbelief. When she finally settled herself beside him at the bar, an appropriate distance between their stools, Kate dared to steal a glance while Anthony’s eyes bored into her very soul.
It was only when she really looked at him that Kate understood what Benedict had meant when he said Anthony was a mess.
He looked rough, she realised, though it seemed to work in Anthony Bridgertons favour, annoyingly enough. It was almost as if sleep deprivation and a hint of distress did very little to diminish how undeniably attractive he was.
It was clear he hadn’t shaved in days. His hair, usually quaffed to perfection, had grown out a little in the time Kate hadn’t seen him. It was sticking up at odd angles, as if he were permanently combing his fingers through it to quell his anxiety.
The crease between his brows had somehow deepened, she thought, as if all of the pain he had collected in his life was kept there. And then there were his eyes, usually alight with delight and bright with mirth. Now they were hollow, dark and desperate as he stared at her, almost as if he were trying to determine that she was actually there in front of him, willingly sitting beside him.
Above all, though, Anthony looked tired. He was tired, if the dark circles beneath his eyes were anything to go by, as if he hadn’t slept properly in days.
Suppressing the desire to reach out a hand and smooth out the wrinkles on his brow, to sweep a thumb over the pain that he held there, Kate instead turned back to the bar and ordered herself a Merlot.
Toying with the stem of the glass upon its arrival, Kate stared intently at the surface of her wine, enveloped by the endless din of dirty, rattling glasses being shoved into the glass washer as chatter and raucous laughter broke through, bubbly and warm and inviting against the quiet that cloaked the two of them.
Kate heard the door swing open from behind her, a fresh chill of crisp, evening air sending a shudder down her spine. Somehow, though, her skin felt as if it had been set alight, every inch of her being burned by Anthony’s steady gaze. She knew it was dangerous to think this way, but it warmed her very soul to be the object of his focus. Her stomach fluttered, basking in the idea that she was his on his mind, that he was watching her.
It shouldn’t have delighted her, should not have made her feel hopeful in the slightest, but it did. It always did.
Perhaps it always would.
“Kate, I–”
Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice, at the desperation etched into his words. Blinking, Kate turned her gaze to him, her lips parting at the sight before her.
Hand in his hair, his gaze drifting to the bar top, Kate saw something shift in his gaze, in the way his shoulders dropped as he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth. A shuddering breath followed, wracking his body until he trembled before her as if finally overcome by the pain he had been holding in and allowing the tiredness to wash over him.
Anthony Bridgerton looked defeated.
“I– I’m sorry,” he finally said, closing his eyes as he gripped strands of chestnut hair threaded with silver. “Whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry. I thought– no, I didn’t think, I suppose. Just know I am sorry, Kate. Please.”
Kate stilled, staring at the man before her, usually so confident and proud, a complete shadow of himself. That’s when she realised something dreadful, something she had not anticipated.
Anthony Bridgerton didn’t just look defeated; he was defeated.
And, maybe – just maybe – it was all because of her.
Oh, shit.
Taking a deep breath, Kate finally picked up her glass and took a large, much needed gulp of wine, then another, and another. Finally, after swallowing the contents of her glass and her pride alongside it, Kate set the glass down with a loud clink against the counter as she swivelled on her stool to face Anthony completely.
“What did you think?” she asked, her voice quiet but the question clear. Blinking, Anthony looked up at Kate with wide, brown eyes as his lips began to move with wordless answers.
Perhaps, much like herself, Anthony had a lot to say, except the words were far too jumbled to be coherent. Huh.
She waited patiently, though, watching the way Anthony snapped his mouth closed and curled his hand into a fist on top of the counter, the muscle in his jaw jumping in frustration. Then his face softened a little, the tension in his brows easing a little when he realised that Kate was waiting for him to speak, that she was willing to listen.
She wasn’t going to run away, not this time. She owed them both that much, at the very least.
Finally, after the bartender had swiped Kate’s glass away and procured her a fresh Merlot, Anthony found his voice as Kate leaned forward, desperate for his answer, for anything to determine she was right in how he felt for her, or what he didn’t feel for her.
“I thought you were, ah, interested in me,” he began, his voice low. “I should have known that wasn’t the case, of course; you never reciprocated my advances. Why would you?” A wry chuckle passed his lips as Kate pulled back a little, her eyes growing wide and unblinking. “Then New Year’s Eve happened and I thought… fuck, I wanted to believe that you fancied me back, at least a little bit, but when I woke up you were gone. You even avoided mother and Ben, so I’m sorry, Kate. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I should have never…”
“What advances?” Kate asked, perhaps a little stupidly, if Anthony’s look of confusion was anything to go by. “You never made any advances, Anthony.”
She must have sounded desperate, grasping at the factuality of it all, at what she had been telling herself all along. He had not been interested her all this time, and he certainly hadn’t shown it in the time she had known him.
Or was that she had been telling herself? Oh, shit. Had she really been blind to Anthony’s interest in her all this time?
“I made plenty,” he sputtered, his brows knitting together in sheer desperation as he leaned towards her. “You really didn’t know?”
Shaking her head, Kate felt a familiar warmth flood her cheeks as realisation slowly began to dawn on Anthony’s face.
“No,” she muttered, her gaze shifting to a bead of condensation that was sliding down the stem of her wine glass. Then, meekly, she asked “When?”
“What?” Anthony asked, causing Kate to wrench her gaze from the glass to shoot Anthony a sharp glare.
“When?” she repeated, huffing out the word. Anthony blinked at her, a little startled before finally managing to find his words.
“There was that, erm, time during tea with my mum…” he started, earning a snort from Kate.
“You mean that time you were kicking me?”
“I was playing footsy, Kate, and right under my mums nose, no less.”
It was Kate’s turn to blink stupidly at Anthony, the blush on her cheeks only growing more brazen. Though no sound escaped her at this new understanding of what Anthony had been doing all those months ago, Kate was dimly aware that her mouth had fallen open at his sudden declaration.
“I told you you were beautiful.”
“You were drunk,” Kate whispered, a flimsy attempt at deflection.
“I was being honest, for once,” Anthony said, his voice a gentle caress, warm and inviting. “I may have been drunk, Kate, but I was not untruthful. I simply had help to say what I had always wanted to tell you.”
A small gasp fell from her lips, barely audible above the racket of the pub. Kate was fairly certain Anthony heard it, though. Thankfully, rather than revel in her silence, Anthony chose to continue.
“I tried flirting with you when you tipped wine on me during games night,” he murmured, his own cheeks beginning to grow pink. “I thought you were flirting with me when you gave me that damned towel of your dogs butt, Kate.”
“That… That is…” Kate started, only to falter on her words. She had been flirting, only she thought it had been subtle.
Clearly, she needed to work on that.
“I caught you staring at me,” he whispered. It was then Kate noticed that he was leaning far too close to her, his gaze penetrating every fibre of her being as his hand seemed to inch closer to he own hand that was fixed to the base of her wine glass.
She didn’t move her hand. She couldn’t.
“You caught me staring, Kate. So many times.”
Kate swallowed, all too aware of the lump that was beginning to form in her throat, of how near he was. If she didn’t move her hand, Anthony would take hold of it and Kate was certain she would unravel.
Then she remembered something, something that should have shown her he cared, that he had always cared for her, even when she had believed otherwise.
“You…” she swallowed, trying to coax the words out. “You bought me chai?”
It felt silly, thinking about how he had ordered her chai, but he’d done it. Blinking up at him, Kate watched the pain seep from his eyes, replaced swiftly by warmth as the ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lovely mouth.
“You don’t like English tea,” he murmured, his voice unfathomably deep yet gentle. “Yet you endured drinking it for my mother’s sake. I wanted you to be comfortable, Kate. I wanted to make you happy.”
She should have answered him then, said something smart or perhaps even shown some gratitude. Yet when she felt the brush of his pinky finger against her own, Kate stilled, suddenly unable to breathe.
Anthony was close, so close he could probably hear the shattering thrum of her heart against her ribcage. So close that she could probably grab him by the neck and kiss him like she had on New Year’s Eve, close enough to taste his lips and swallow his moans as she threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged him close until he devoured her completely...
The scraping of a stool against the tiled floor broke Kate from her reverie to instead find Anthony standing before her, one palm atop the counter while the other hovered close to her face, almost itching to take hold of her face, to cradle her head in his palm so she could feel the warmth she craved, needed.
Instead, Anthony dragged his palm to his chest and drew a deep, ragged breath as he steeled himself.
“I told myself that was it when you left me that night,” he whispered, his voice fraught with despair, yearning. “I told myself you didn’t care, not in the way I did, at the very least. Yet every moment away from you proved even more difficult after that.”
Anthony swallowed and shook his head, his gaze turning into something softer, a little more earnest as he searched her face for something, anything to tell him to stop. Instead Kate only sat there, watching as the hold on his shirt increasingly tightened, how his cheeks were brushed pink at his declaration.
“I wanted to call you every day after that. I contemplated going to your flat and asking what I had done wrong.” He faltered for a moment then, stepping back before pulling a ragged breath. “I wondered each and every day since then why you would avoid me, my family. Did I truly repulse you that much, Kate? Do I disgust you?”
He was becoming breathless, each word a hushed plea upon his lips as Kate’s stomach sank, a wave of cold suddenly overcoming her.
“I told myself I had to let you go, that you didn’t feel the same way as me,” he whispered, his eyes still searching, still grasping for something, anything from her. “Yet I couldn’t let you go, much to my own detriment.”
Had she truly tormented Anthony this much? Had she really put them both through so much pain because she simply believed he didn’t care for her, too?
“And yet all I can breathe for is you, Kate,” he choked out, unfathomable desire beginning to cloud his eyes as Kate sat there, wide-eyed, silent and still. “I believe that everyone we know has become aware of my feelings for you, of the flame inside of me that burns for you. Everyone, that is, except you.”
Something akin to relief washed over his face, the creases of worry beginning to fade as he shook his head, a small, sad smile forming on his lips as if understanding had finally dawned on him.
“I love you,” Anthony breathed, desire flooding his gaze as he stared down at her, his smile bright and his words honest. “Perhaps I have loved you since the day you threw Merlot over me in this very pub. I have loved you in every moment we have spent together and every moment you chose to acknowledge me. But please know that, regardless of how you feel about me, I only wish for your happiness. Just know that I love you, Kathani Sharma.”
Kate was dimly aware of the sting that began in the corners of her eyes, how her vision seemed to blur at the edges as she stared up at Anthony from her seat, his smile warm and his words full.
He loved her.
Anthony Bridgerton loved her and oh, oh she had been a fool. A stubborn, stupid fool.
Heart hammering against her chest, Kate didn’t dare to blink or even breathe. If she did, Anthony might very well disappear before her very eyes.
If she blinked, then it was highly possible she would be forced to wake up and realise this had all been a beautiful, heartbreaking dream.
“I…” she started, her voice barely a breath upon her lips. Shaking his head, Anthony stepped in front of her completely, his large hand finally enveloping her own with warmth, security. Care.
“You don’t need to say anything,” he murmured, his voice vibrating with dejection, all hope lost. “I just thought you should know that even if you don’t love me, I love you, Kate. I always will.”
And then he leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek, a lingering peck that felt final, almost as if Anthony had resigned himself to the fact that Kate did not love him back.
No, not almost; he had.
Standing abruptly from her stool, Kate caught Anthony by the lapels of his jacket seconds before he could turn on his heel. Confusion flittered across his face as her gaze dropped first to his lips and then his jaw, his nose and finally returned to his eyes, searching for an answer only she could give.
And then pulled him in, dragging him by the lapels until his lips were on hers as she kissed him and he kissed her. And oh, did he kiss her.
He kissed her back with as much fervour as he had that night on New Year’s Eve, an orchestrated mess of lips and teeth and tongue as his hands fell to her hips, tugging her close before pushing her back against the bar, bruising lips claiming hers again and again.
He kissed her until she felt breathless and without a doubt in her mind that he was hers or that she was unquestionably his, each gruff moan and sweet sigh swallowed by her own lips as she relished in his taste, his warmth and every fibre of love he felt for her and only her.
It was only when she pulled away that Kate realised her cheeks were wet and her vision foggy, tears spilling from her eyes as she looked up at Anthony through wet lashes. Trying to claim her breath back, she threaded long fingers through his hair and swallowed the anxiety that roiled within her.
“I love you, too,” she murmured, her voice small but sure. Nudging her nose against his, Kate tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and sighed. “I always have, I think. I know I always will.”
The smile that framed Anthony’s face was blinding, his eyes beginning to crinkle at the corners at her meek declaration in comparison to his. Yet it delighted him, adoration and love emanating from his every being as he pinned Kate against the counter and leaned in again to brush his lips against hers, as if he were testing that this was real, that she was real.
“Is that a fact, my dear Kathani?” he asked, his voice a husky whisper that sent a shiver down her spine as she pressed her forehead against his, willing him to be as close as he could possibly be.
“I love you so much, Anthony,” she sniffed. “It hurt so much to love you that I couldn’t even fathom the idea of you loving me back.”
And then he kissed her again, a breathless, wonderful assault of bruising lips as his arms tightened around her in a crushing bid to never let her go. Kate didn’t care, though; all she wanted was to be consumed by him and only him.
Pulling back, Kate watched how Anthony’s eyes sparkled for her, the pain melting away with each affirmation of love spoken and each kiss shared.
“Now you know better,” Anthony said, his voice low as he tugged he lifted a hand to cradle her face. Kate could only nod, her cheek pressing into the warmth of his palm as she smiled back up at him, happy and bright and finally his.
“Now I know better,” she confirmed, her heart swelling with nothing but love, adoration and desire for this annoying, beautiful man that held her in his arms.
The very man who, despite everything she had told herself, undoubtedly loved her back.
#Beautiful Mess Update#Beautiful Mess Chapter 5#Beautiful Mess Part 5#Kanthony fic#Kathony fic#Kanthony fanfic#Bridgerton fanfic#Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma#Kate Sharma x Anthony Bridgerton
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Curtains on Mayonaka Punch
Mayonaka Punch is over. I loved that show. The characters, the art, the music, the worldbuilding, all of it was lovely and lands it pretty solidly as my anime of the season. But also, as she says, To Love is to Hate, and so here i am with only bitching and moaning to do. (Spoilers for all of Mayonaka Punch)
I remember at the start of the season i wrote down somewhere "If the narrative turns out that Masaki was actually in the right in punching her co-host in the face, instead of having her confront her faults as a person, then this show will only be good as opposed to truly great". Was i right? I guess we'll never know because it ended up way worse than that. Masaki clearly has serious issues not just with violence, but also with being really mean and lowkey abusive at some points, but the show never tries to address it. She gets character development about dealing with online hate, about empathizing with others, about relying on her friends, etc, and these things are somewhat related, but the problematic aspects of her character never get examined and challenged. At the very end of the last episode she just punches Live in the face. On stream. I know it was meant as a joke, but that wasn't funny to me. That was super sad. It's the very thing that drove the people she loved away in episode 1, and now 12 episodes later she does it again and it's supposed to be okay??
The show never shows us what the disagreement that made Masaki punch Otomi even was. We see them make up in episode 10, then we see the making-up video in episode 11. That video shows Otomi giving a light slap at Masaki to get even and Masaki returning it with a full-blown punch, and Masaki gets re-cancelled for it. But that scene wasn't in episode 10. We only see the event through the edited video which is framed so that Masaki is out of frame the whole time. So, the implication here is that there's missing context that makes Masaki look worse than she really is, right? Because without some missing context, the newtube commenters going "Oh man, Masaki is a violent abusive bitch" are just straight up right, both in episode 11 and episode 1. Taken at face value, Masaki just threw 10 episodes of character development in the bin, did the exact same shit that got her cancelled at the start of the season, got cancelled again because of it in the exact same way, and rightfully so. Taken at face value Masaki is absolutely right to say "no one wants me on camera". And you have to take this at face value because this video is never brought up again, there is no extra context. Masaki just randomly physically assaults the people she loves at the slightest of disagreements, all her growth over the season was just about learning to cope with being a shitty person rather than improving as a person. This is pretty much the only logical way to read her as a character.
The disease to this symptom, I think, is that Mayonaka Punch has a structure problem. Let's review some episode synopsis. Episode 1: Masaki gets fired from Hype-sis and meets Live. Episode 2: The gang starts Chuchu Girls, Chuchu Girls gets shut down, They start again with Mayonaka Punch. This episode functions as a "This is why they can't use their powers for easy views" explanation. Episode 3: Tokage is introduced, they film a video cleaning up Tokage's crusty-ass room, but Yuki destroys the footage. Episode 4: Fu Episode (banger). These episodes are individually good, don't get me wrong, but 1/3rd of the season in and we're left still unsure what it is the show is actually about. All they've done is set things up and record food-eating videos and one (1) music cover. What kind of channel has only food-eating videos and one (1) music cover (not the point, Harseer). The show picks up steam from then on, raises its stakes and proves itself very deft in how it weaves its worldbuilding, character development and mystery together in each episode. It makes for a very good show that was entertaining to watch every week. But it can't wrap the whole thing together in the end. This isn't even a "the final episode was bad" situation, the final episode was very good (aside from the punch). It just, sorta... narratively leads nowhere.
I guess this is all my over-the-top snobish way of saying: i wanted more. Masaki was an interesting protagonist, the kind we don't see often in slice of life anime. There could have been something to make me say "It's interesting" when i look back on it in two years, but probably i'll just say "It's good".
B+. Good is still Good, i guess. Also this girl is cute as fuck:
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Writing prompts days 22, 23
From this prompt list. I set a goal of writing at least 150 words per day in 2024, which sounds pretty pathetic but if you take into account the fact that I haven’t written any fiction since 2019 it felt like a feasible target. And then somehow it turned into “I’m going to write a single interconnected story utilizing all of these prompts” which ?????, what can I say, I am incredibly foolish and there's no limit to my capacity for self-deceit. Anyway, the first draft is finished (at around 88k words) and I'll be unlocking posts here on tumblr as I edit.
read from the beginning here
Day 21 here
***
28. "Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now."
121. "I'd fuck you right here, right now, if I could."
***
Steph wasn't wrong. Tim really, really hated to apologize. Not because he saw it as losing face, or anything like that. It was because then he had to admit he fucked up, which might possibly mean he was a piece of shit. It just seemed like at some point he should be able to be the type of person who only caused harm because he meant to, and not because he hadn't slept in too long, like a cranky toddler.
But he was also not a chickenshit, so he suited up at home and left through one of the two concealed exits in the basement level as soon as he knew Damian would be on patrol. (And three nights in a row was a lot—he made a mental note to check the patrol rotation again when he returned home, because Tim wasn't the only one who needed sleep.)
He found Damian sitting on top of one of a huge stack of containers at the harbor, overlooking the ships being offloaded. Without trying to make the process soundless, Tim landed on the opposite end of the container. Damian's shoulders stiffened, but he didn't bother turning around.
Tim bit the inside of his lip, considering. He hadn't been able to work out the most appropriate method to begin this conversation despite all his brainstorming on the way over, so he'd finally decided he would just wing it. But now that the reality was staring him in the face—or determinedly giving him its back—he found himself nearly speechless.
Which was unacceptable. Right. When in doubt, dive in, and fix it later if it goes tits-up. (The part of his brain that offered constant commentary on his own thoughts gave the notion a hazy attribution to John Constantine, who was hardly a stellar example, but the principle was sound.)
Accordingly, he opted for the straightforward route. "I've come to apologize."
Damian gave a derisive tt but made no other acknowledgement.
"Would you mind taking your comm out for just a second? I'd prefer this not be accidentally shared with the entire crew."
He could tell Damian struggled with the concession, too angry to want to give an inch, but in the end discretion won out. He plucked the comm from his ear but kept his back turned. "Despite whatever Brown's inevitable gossipy meddling may have led you to believe, I do not require an apology."
Tim took a deep breath and paced a little closer, still keeping a prudent six feet between them. "I'm not here because of anything Steph said. I'm here because I fucked up and I need to make it right."
Damian snorted in contempt. "I assure you, there is no need. For me to accept such a thing would indicate you inflicted some sort of injury upon me. Which would imply you somehow developed skill and significance enough for that to occur. Which in turn is nonsense."
"Believe me, I'm well aware," Tim replied, and couldn't keep his tone from going dry as the desert. Damian's hands gave an inexplicable twitch at the words. "But be that as it may, we are still on the same team, and yesterday I acted like you were the enemy for no good reason. Yeah, you overstepped. But it was out of concern for my well-being and the safety of the family, so I should've been more understanding." He drummed one fist against his thigh, waiting for a response, but when none was forthcoming, braced himself and gave one more offering of vulnerability. "I was maybe still a little off-kilter from the dream. That one—ever since Insomnia fucked with my head, I've had the nightmare he gave me recur sometimes. Where it's not just Boomerang and my dad who die. It's most of us too. Except me. So I was definitely not at my best." A long pause, and still no sound. "I'm just gonna keep talking until you shut me up, but I'm pretty sure you're going to have to face me to do that, so . . ."
Damian's shoulders lowered the slightest bit. "Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now, and at least three of them don't involve turning around." He did give a quarter-turn, though. He wasn't looking at Tim, but his body was angled so Tim could at least see his profile. "They do mostly involve some sort of bloodshed, however."
"What a surprise. Not that I'm saying I don't deserve it." Tim dared to come within arm's reach. "I really am sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so angry and I said a lot of shit I didn't mean." He had turned off the white-outs on his domino, but Damian's were still firmly in place, so Tim couldn't tell which way he was looking. His ear was tilted toward Tim and he was clearly listening, and that would have to be enough to keep going. "You were right. I was being a baby."
Damian's chin dipped, and he angled his face away again. "Perhaps you were correct about some things as well. I regret not bringing up the issue with you instead of Father. And . . . other actions." Color crept up his cheeks.
Tim drew close enough to feel Damian's body heat radiating against what little skin he had exposed. A sudden sensory memory assailed him: leaning his face into the crook of Damian's neck, pressed together in a line from chest to dick. A wave of remembered arousal washed through him and left him aching with its recession. "If I made you regret we fucked, I'm ten times as sorry. You shouldn't have your memory of that ruined by me having been a jerk later."
Damian shrugged, a quick jerky motion entirely at odds with his usual grace. "I cannot argue with the final accusation you leveled at me."
Tim's mouth twisted as regret carved a hole in his chest. "Yes you can. You should. Don't agree with Temper-Tantruming Tim. He's an asshole and he only tells the worst part of the truth. I don't regret fucking you, Dami. I'm flattered you asked me. I'd do it again in a heartbeat." Damian leaned toward him at the confession, every muscle betraying how badly he wanted to hear it. Tim suppressed a smile. He should have known praise would be his way in. "I'd fuck you right here, right now, if I could."
He reached out a cautious hand and grasped Damian's gauntleted fingers. Damian heaved a sigh of his own but didn't pull away. "I suppose you're aware that you could."
Tim couldn't stop himself from laughing aloud at that. "Fuck you right here? Yeah, if I want Oracle to take video and give notes on my performance." He reached up to tap the tiny depression on his domino that cleared Damian's white-outs.
Damian met his gaze straightforwardly, but it clearly cost him some effort. "Then perhaps you should do it where she can't see."
Tim pretended to consider, but it was a done deal as far as his dick was concerned. "You think so?" At Damian's firm nod, he grinned. "Better head back to my place after we're done, then."
Movement down at the harbor caught his eye. A group of men were creeping toward a particular container, hiding behind others as they went. "Hey, there's something going on. Wanna take a closer look together?"
"Naturally. I have not been standing here for my health. Let's go."
But before they did, Damian brought Tim's knuckles to his mouth, and Tim could've sworn he felt the burn of the kiss even through the Kevlar that separated their skin.
days twenty-four, twenty-five, and twenty-six here
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Status by EvieJulia on DeviantArt
Evie: "And what would "my" other account be? Because last time I checked, your lot accused me of being another user on here a few times, which was debunked, and you also did the same thing to the user you accused me of being and accused them of being someone else. So how does that work, exactly?"
My lot? We can all freely speak our minds without any restrictions in between. I don't own or use them, just like they don't use or own me in any way. If we say things about you or the people around you based on DeviantArtDramaNow actions, it's because we have real evidence that hasn't been edited or tampered with in any way unlike yours. We use real evidence to support our claims and accusations, again, unlike you!
Evie: "Yeah, selfies of me are MY property, nobody else's. If another person uses someone else's property without consent, that is in fact called theft, which is illegal. But I wouldn't expect you to know that. If you left your phone outside and I took it and used it, does that make it right?"
You fail to understand my point. You uploaded them to a website that isn't well known for keeping it's member's or their uploads safe, or protected at all. You can still go to DeviantArt and right click, and "save picture as" without the person who uploaded it knowing. Now. Because I've said that, does that make me the "bad guy" here? No of course not. I know you can do that, because I do my research before anything I post or say, just like when you claimed we were stalking you when in reality, you've got such a big gob, you legitly give us the info without even knowing it. But again, using dumb logic like you always do, you decided to blame us because you dislike us, not that we did anything wrong.
Evie: "Again, more bullshit, seeing as DA literally has that feature built into it"
Eh, actually no. The fact that you pointed out her name in the ever growing list of people checking out your page is not proof in any means, Evie, for fuck sake try to take your head out of your own ass for a minute and actually read what I'm saying, will you? IF that was recent then her name would have been crossed out, however, as you can clearly see her name is not crossed out which means she wasn't one of the many vistiors to your page in recent times.
Evie: "I'm not even a part of that blog, as I've already stated previously. I posted the threats you guys sent on that blog, along with evidence. Show me where I ever made up a story or accusation that wasn't backed up with evidence. I'll wait."
Now that is bullshit, again, yes you are we know you are because as you continue to state on the next line: "I posted the threats you guys sent on that blog, along with evidence." What I want to know is what evidence, you have none. You made your claims up and fabricated them to a point where it seemed like it was impossable to fake them in the first place, but we know their fake claims, as I already said previously, you do this shit to us and our welcoming blog, because you don't like us, not that we did anything wrong!
Evie: "Oh and you even accused me of being the mod of that blog too, which was also found to be false."
False? When you just said above you posted the "threats" we were meant to be sending to you? Also, we know who Mod-S is, so don't beat yourself up too much about it, doll face.
Evie: "Your gang don't alter screenshots? Again, more bullshit. Max and the one who was formerly known as Kiyo did do that."
Don't mistake your terrorist cult blog for our more free to speak, and welcoming blog. Also, wrong again dumbass, that had NOTHING to do with us. Max was throwing a hissyfit because he got caught lying about us, like you, and went off on one. But please do continue to use that old edited screenshot of yours as "proof" it really makes our job easier to debunk your shite!
Evie: "Your numerous posts about me would say otherwise. Also, what was I caught doing, exactly? Care to clarify?"
Still looking at your blog? I mean, sure it must be hard for you to tell the diffrences between, you're fake shite, and our proven leglit evidence. Must be because of the drugs you keep taken, anyway. The countless posts about us? And other users on DA... ha, Evie just shut the fuck up and get over it, you lost. There is nothing you can say or do that will ever, turn the tables... now do us all a favour and go fuck yourself skank!
You have been once again: DEBUNKED BITCH!
She will need to clarify herself, her claims there, here, and here practically debunk themselves in the process of implying opposite things. It's not comfortable to watch.
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When/how did you first come up with Vincent and Ava? How long did it take to develop their story?
Oh ho ho *cocks lore gun* we're gonna have fun tonight >=]
So as to when, I really don't know to be honest. It was all by chance on how I came up with the story.
I love the concept of becoming something your not. Like "what if there was a gun, that didn't want to be a gun" sorta story. I wanted a story like that, so... I thought of a ghost story.
Simple concept, ghosts, haunted house, which you can still read the concept idea for in the first story of Vincent lurking in the house. Vincent was originally supposed to be a ghost, along with three other ghosts that also lurked in the house with varying personalities, but it's Vincent who has relations with the "Visitor" (aka Ava wasn't made at this point)
It was a bit drab and dull, and a bit cleashae, but I still edited the plot, took out the three ghosts, and just had Vincent. He had a much softer, less cheeky form of personality. Soft spoken, wise, not scaring the shit outa preists, and actually upset of who he is, and that's how it was...
...until I found the existence of Alastor
I absolutely LOVED how Alastor acts in terms of speech, movement, and personality. That and he was a demon. So much more badass. With a ghost, the unnatural abilities are very wonky in my opinion. They can't pickstuff up in one movie but in the next they can? Cam they pick stuff up or not? That and a few other things. With Vincent's design however, he can fly, produce fire and electricity from his fingertips, the whole shebang.
From then on he was a demon, you will see later that he regrets and is sorrowful of what he did in the past, and how little he thinks he has changed, but from what he did, he changed a vast amount, he just had a moment is all.
*takes deep breath* right, now for Ava.
Ava was the simple sorta dansile in distress sorta scenario, someone for the hero to save and get married to in the end... but there's more to her than a plot like that... a lot more.
In Ava's original design plot, she was an adult. Simple as that. But I wanted to get into depth with DEEP things to really put tension in the plot like, hard-core bullying, cheating, and strait-up suicide because it somewhat reflects the life I lived through... more or less that is. And I thought making Ava a grown ass adult wouldn't cut it, which meant her backstory had to be cut.
Her original story was that she was being s##sualy abused by some drunk pervert, chased her into the woods, came upon the house, hid in it, he eventually finds her, and prepares to do some shit I don't even wanna think about, then Vincent shows up and strait up snaps this guy's neck in an 180 degree angle like John fucking Wick. Ava is scared the shit out of her mind and Vincent tries the comfort her by saying idk something like "don't worrie my dear, your safe now" and uses his demonic magic to put her to sleep. She then wakes up in her car the next morning, she goes back to the house and that was the beginning of the story.
In honesty I didn't like this concept, it seemed a bit... much, and now that Ava's 16 it was over the top, so I changed the story that Ava is with her father during a thunder storm, when a drunk driver knocked them of the road and they went tumbling down a hill. Her father died and Ava had severe injuries. By chance, Vincent was lurking not to far from where the crash happend. He took the girl, brought her in the house for shelter and healed her wounds the best he could whilst providing heat with his demon form (aka demons can radiate natural heat from themselves)
The next day Ava only caught a small glance of Vincent before he disappeared from the sound of authorities searching for Ava. They found her and were taking her to the hospital, but before they left, Ava caught a quick glance of a figure in the attic window. And the rest is really empty space for now.
That and- HOLY SHIT HOW LONG IS THIS!
Yeah I just love lore dumping, and it helps me with how the plots work out and such. Hope this answered your question. Hope I see more soon =3
#nautilus rambles#nautilus answers#asks#love your asks#my freind the demon#lore#my oc story#oc story#oc lore#vincent#ava#plots#and the plot thickens
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I'm so sorry to tell you this OP, a micro expression that I need to pause the show for to see does not equal good writing. A show, and media in general, has to take our hand and guide us through it, I hate this stupid fucking sentence "you just want the show to take your hand" YES I DO, YES MEDIA NEEDS TO.
I don't want it to put everything infront of me and just carry me through it, I want it to fucking MAKE SENSE and GUIDE ME AS IT SHOULD. I do not want to sit here and decipher some weird fucking ass background to see "oh look the curtain split in the background indicates how this character is actually split in their decision🥺". That is NOT how this is meant to work. It is a nice addition but should not take away from actual character development.
Saying people rightfully calling this madness out "have an inability to read in between the lines" when what you are doing is adding your own context the show never gave or just straight up ignoring how "character" in media works
Them fucking in a cell was quite disturbing and disgusting. I'm a lesbian. I should be glad we got a lesbian scene. Yes, it has weird as fuck implications. Why are you talking as if your interpretation is the only one that can be right and now everyone needs to yield to it? Huh. Implications can and will happen unwillingly and willingly, by the way.
Caitlyn has war crimed her way through the Undercity, ruthlessly threw people into prison for no reason (they did actually show that, woah sick right), was ready to SHOOT someone with a child on their person that either would have hit the child or would have left the child with serious trauma, HIT VI INTO HER STOMACH AFTER SAID FACT, TOLD A PERSON WHILE SHE DIDNT YET WANT TO, SHE WOULD THROW HIM INTO THE DEEPEST DARKEST DUNGEONS, called people of the undercity animals, etc.
and you say 🥺actions mean more guys uwu🥺 shut up, genuinely.
Oh plus glorified suicide is never justifiable, wtaf. Do NOT dare to even say "but she lived". They SHOWED HER, a suicidal character, WILLINGLY JUMP WHILE PLAYING THE MUSIC SHE PREVIOUSLY TRIED TO KILL HERSELF WITH. They also made the other 2 characters that attempted sacrifice themselves. I watched this shit. I saw them imply a suicidal characters worth is to die as a sacrifice. This is not redemption. Redemption means a character getting better and hey, I think a character getting better kinda means they have to live, woah insane concept, right? I do not owe anyone any kind of private information about my person to talk about this, BY THE WAY.
They acted as if classism is a thing that simply disappears 🥺when faced with a bigger fiend guysssss die with us in our clothes, ignore how we treated you for years and years and how we killed and imprisoned you injustly and acted as if you were less🥺 yes, they fucked up Implications between Caitlyn and Vi never being addressed is insane. No "actions" (literally huh) do not mean more than words here.
edit: I'm gonna repeat, implication happens and will happen unwillingly and willingly and implications will also not be the same for everyone. If people tell you the implications of episode 7 with Vi's death was weird then that holds as much value as what you say it implies to you.
I knew we would eventually reach a point where masses of people would misinterpret Arcane, but I never imagined it would be this bad.
Yes, I absolutely agree that season 2 was rushed, especially Act 3, and it is undeniable that the series would have benefited from at least one more episode if not an entire act. However, the current discourse about the show is so superficial that it's impossible to have a conversation about anything deeper but a mere synopsis of the characters and story.
So many of you expected this series to hold your hand and dumb everything down so you can understand it. But when it wasn't the case, you all started rioting and calling the characters vague, the plot bad, and the ships underdeveloped.
The amount of people who value spoken text more than the actions of the characters is worrying. And more worrying than that is the amount of those who interpret the said actions so superficially. I can't believe it needs to be explained that it wasn't Vi's death that led to the "good" timeline, but the lack of hextech. The result would have been the same if either of them had died. It wasn't about Vi, but about the child that died because of dangerous technology and that therefore that technology must not be used. The mischaracterization of Vi in general is insane. Call me biased and unfair, but the moment I hear you don't like her I will assume you didn't understand the show.
Also, the whole discourse around Caitvi scene in episode 8 is giving brainsmooth. No, Vi didn't choose Cait over Jinx, quite the opposite. No, Cait didn't plan all of it to fuck Vi. No, Vi didn't do it because she felt forced or because she is a horny animal who doesn't care about her sister. No, them fucking in a cell is not about the class difference, but about the fact that Vi felt an insane rush of emotions after realizing that Cait would let go of her revenge and help Jinx escape, all for her. Yes, I do agree that it would be nice if we got a longer conversation between Vi and Caitlyn and it would feel great to hear Cait apologize, but I'll always value actions over words. Her talking to Jinx, recognizing that she is just as bad as her, and choosing to trust Vi that her sister can change, thus letting Jinx escape will always mean more than any verbal apology and I'll die on that hill.
Also, it was Jinx's decision to let go and walk away. It was not about Vi trying to get to Vander, but about Jinx being tired of everything. Even if that fight didn't happen, the result would be the same: Jinx would leave because she knows that Vi couldn't do that. She knew that the two of them couldn't have a normal life together and that Vi would never give up on her. Jinx didn't "die" because Vi pushed her or failed her, but because she loved her too much. Whether you believe that she is dead or that she escaped, it's her decision either way.
Again, I agree that too much happened too quickly, but stop confusing your stupidity and inability to read between the lines with the quality of the series.
Arcane is flawed but still brilliant.
#wtaf did I just read#people agree with this take#Im so sorry to tell you this op#this was an insane read#arcane#arcane season 2#arcane spoilers#caitvi#jinx#vi#caitlyn kiramman#classism#tw sui talk
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I felt a bit surprised that Charles had been able to assign our local, semi-concealed System Wizard a gender for longer than thirty seconds
definitely one of his more (dare i say rewrite?) annoying traits for sure
His legs slammed into the ground in relentless syncopated rhythm, creating a hysterical, deafening drumbeat that made old broken windows rattle in their panes.
diversity win! first non human entity to use he/him in this story!
It was hard to keep Charles from getting sucked into the seven-dimensional space reallocation error at the corner of Mill and Union, but I managed. Suffice to say it’s good that he’s quick on his feet. After realizing he was past the danger, he brushed himself off and glanced around. “Oh, come on,” he said to the empty streets. “How come nobody ever sees my most heroic moves?”
himbo (affectionately)
ooo the traffic light with the claws is also a he/him ok
didnt think id be entertained by this but here i am. if its as interesting as the lemonade cult then yea
I steered Charles towards some food, which he stole without paying [sigh].
youve heard it before and youll hear it again: absolute hell world that all this shit is still "secretly" (snippy has no way of knowing) being accounted for when the guy is just trying to not die. doing the best he can with the knowledge he has (captain wizardly does not a human body keep fed after all)
what the hells a dead zone wraith anyway
oh. a dex. whose job is "entertain" (scare) tourists. ok
NO WAY theres a journal entry from a dex thats not pilot though finally my reading wishes are being fulfilled
I honed my audio receivers in on the spot and picked up the telltale puff and huff of a filter mask. Say! I knew that guy! "Hey, Charles!" I called out and waved my hand. "Man, it had been a while! Remember me? Dixon 11-07-02?” I think radiation must have eaten through my speakers because most of my greeting came out as grinding screechy cough. Charles froze and stared at me without answering, chest rising and falling rapidly. He glanced around nervously, tensed to run.
tragedy enjoyers right now: lol
That was classic Charles! Always throwing things first and asking questions second. Well… more like throwing things first, and then running away at top speed. He’d always been an oddball like that. I know he has his… connectivity issues, but that tour guide book ANNET printed just for him explained me and the other wasteland D.Z.T.G. employees. “Well good afternoon to you, too,” I said, wiping the cement dust away from my optical array. When I had cleared my vision, Charles had vanished into the rubble like an agoraphobic rat. “How’ve you been, Charles? Haven’t seen you much lately.” Geez, I only wanted some company! Where’d he gotten off to?
tragedy enjoyers right now: lmao, even
its freaking me out that this guy looks way more like a robot than anything else. are we mixing up terminologies here or is this still a human-turned-android-as-capital-punishment situation and he just happened to get it worse because of his occupation?? CLEARLY not a human face structure, especially if its meant to scare and whatnot
aaah stuffs not making sense again. booooo. edit: missed the dex-WRAITH disclaimer sorry. its a different dex type. its not a satisfying answer but. its an answer i guess.
A notice popped up demanding that I take Charles to the organ harvest and Dex conversion facility. I skimmed over the notice. Psh! That couldn’t be right. The debt the notice described was much too immense for a single person to have accrued. How could someone owe that much to the Directorate? Excessive gambling? This had to be a filing error of some sort. I scrolled further. Well, that was a lot of parking tickets. Still, even all those couldn’t account for an infinite debt.
christ lmao. he doesnt even have a car though, are these from like. that run down car captain drove over the rainbow? i think zee left it at the knock off mcdonalds
The G-Overseer can kiss my rusty, metal derriere.
that futurama reference took waaaay too long to make
this is breaking my heart dixon is actually talking out loud to him and warning him of the debt but his voice filters stuff are mangled beyond hell so all that comes out is banshee esque noises. snippy accumulates 50 Ls for every W he scrapes by
"What's your name?" I asked. "You sound... cute." "I'm Matilda Trafficlight. Now please move away from Charles, before you give him a heart attack," she stated firmly.
can love bloom between a dex dead zone wraith and a traffic light with a name
“And how about I get you a coffee to apologize? I know just the place,” I added, feeling like quite the player. "There's a nice... G-bux coffee shop that's still mostly intact." "Oh, you’re too kind", Matilda said, and I wished that she was here in person again. All her lights always lit up together when she was excited about fixing something. "Very well, I accept!"
it can. yaaaaay!
(is dexes and objects with idiot AI dating something common in this world? like i thought that bomb was just being cheeky when she said 'this pilot is cute but i dont have time for dating' or whatever but maybe it's common place)
biomatrix is so close to becoming a regular im on the edge of my seat
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max omg, yk the nickname situation regarding katsuki and izuku as toddlers, well?? forgot that katsuki also literally only cared that izuku couldn't read as well as he could ("you mean you can't?" directed at izuku, glancing back at izuku, really tightening his izuku goggles as much as damn possible). and that even if in that situation katsuki was just looking for attention from his peers and to tease izuku, that means he was specifically enthralled by izuku's attention and also implies that he subconsciously thought izuku was worthy of attention from him and wanted a reaction out of him. and THEN katsuki then proceeds to continue using the nickname for izuku whilst hiding under the flimsy false pretense that he thinks izuku's dumb and useless which we both know is him being full of shit. i'm not even exaggerating when i say my boy is and always has been obsessed. i'm. having so much brainrot rn
edit: FOR CONTEXT for what i will say below READ @justawhoresblog 's post here first
OlivER Oh my god YEAHHH YOURE RIGHT QJDJWJJSW
HES SO ATTENTION SEEKING
in some way he does want izuku to admire him, because he wants to show that hes better than him *at stuff* and only him.
like "can you do that izuku? lol u cant"
its not just "hah u suck" but also "hah izuku im better than you, seE"
to connect with the recent chapters;
Man, his feelings for him really run deep and complex
He wants izuku to think that he's better than him, because he wants Izuku to look up to him and think he's great. Which means he wants Izuku's attention, subconsciously even since he was a kid.
Hes afraid of izuku surpassing him, because hes afraid of being left behind by izuku. He's afraid of that because he wants to be with Izuku. But he's also scared of Izuku which is why he wanted to push him away,, but that's exactly why he's afraid of izuku surpassing him. So he also wanted Izuku to back down and be afraid of him instead, but it also gets complicated because he also wants Izuku's attention.
Maybe its because deep down he really thinks he isn't good enough. No matter how arrogant he looks he really has a twisted sense of self worth. Deep down he really seeks Izuku's approval, which ties into (his almost final moments-)
He wants to be perfect as how everyone expected him to be, but its more important to him that
He also kept comparing himself Izuku, but that makes sense because you want to make someone you deem awesome admire you, and since they're awesome to you you want to be better than them too, especially with all the societal pressure in MHA.
in the words of Lil Nas X, "I wanna fuck with those I envy. I envyy-"/j im sorry
AND NOW HE DOESNT WANT TO BE AHEAD NOR BEHIND DEKU
he FINALLY ACCEPTED THAT HE JUST WANTS TO BE BY HIS SIDE
FUCK BEING BETTER AND BEING THOUGHT OF AS A BIG DEAL THAT THE STRONG WANTS TO FIGHT AGAINST
Fuck being better than deku
in SHORT WOW bakugo has had bakudeku angst longer than deku???
and also MORE PARALLELS
Since Deku's admiration to Bkg and All might both foil and parallel one another
Bkg's admiration to Deku and All might also both foil and parallel one another (the desire to surpass them...but deep down actually really looks up to the other? i mean it was obvious in the case of All Might but he DID keep it suppressed and hidden) but idk thats a topic for another dayyy OR for someone else to cover since I'm too shy to write actual metas
AND THIS may BACK UP THE CASE FOR DEKU NOT BEING MEANT AS MALICIOUS AT FIRST! And the other scenes and in the "de-izuku" moments because he subconsciously refered to him as such in times he didnt have bad feelings towards him anymore. It might have just started as a way for Bkg to get attention from him.
For (younger) Bkg, everyone else was already, by default extras compared to him. It is by default that he's better than everyone else. It is only Deku (and kind of All Might and other adults but they arent peers so it doesnt count) that he ACTIVELY TRIES TO PROVE he's better than him. And thats because he sees something in him. (which is obvious now in hindsight now that he explicitly said how he feels but man was i dense THE SIGNS WERE THERE ALL ALONG)
Also man rewatching some parts of the Bkg vs Uraraka fight
the reason why he was so passionate about defeating her is partially because of deku right
"Don't underestimate me" he told her. But iirc he kinda had no reason to besides *looks at deku*
how he thought Deku was looking down on him. man i didnt even cover that yet
one's thoughts abt how someone they like feels about them gets warped by their insecurities
an added oof the balance of all of BKG's complicated feelings. Its precisely that he thought that someone he wanted to like him ACTUALLY looked down on him made him so upset at deku right?????
RIGHT
WAIT
if thats NOT GAY WHAT IS WHAT ISSS-
#i always thought izuku fell first and bk didn't really but DAMN U OPENED MY MIND#bakudeku#bkdk#im riffing off other metaposts but mm writing it myself finally made me wrap my head around it#goddamnit BKDK needs notes to understand#FINALLY! CONCLUSIVE EVIDENCE bkg wants dk's attention
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JORDANNNN! (I’ve read this too many times again 😂 I love getting your thoughts!)
Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t the biggest fan of the miscommunication trope?? Like nothing frustrates me more in a story when the two characters just won’t talk to each other! So I am SO HAPPY you think it had just the right combo of things to make it a good read! (And now I’ll write you a mini novel with some headcanons, more below!)
They both took their break up so personally. She took it hard when she thought he was telling other people he was ready to be done before telling her (and at a group setting, she was probably wondering who else he’d told). And since he didn’t get that closure from her at the time, he was left assuming that she didn’t want to deal with his emotional baggage. So there was a lot of hurt on both sides. (she had a friend make a locked folder of all their pictures together because she didn’t want to see them all the time, but also couldn’t bring herself to delete them. And you KNOW he was just going through all of his multiple times a week. But he was respectful and never used the dirty pics she had sent him to get off, he used his imagination like a gentleman)
I feel like the 3 month mark is like a make or break sometimes, that’s when people are like “yes, I’m ready to get serious serious” or they are like “well that’s been fun”. And they were both definitely on the same page, but haven’t been together long enough to full understand the other person’s communication style. (and even when he is saying “I wasn’t going to end it”, she isn’t *hearing* what he means by that until he lays it out for her in that storage closet.)
So I really tried to balance their disconnect (she’s a bit of a self-sabotager, he isn’t as forward as he thinks he is) and make it understandable. But of course, still have people want to root for them to get it together! (Like he really thought he was doing something when he overtly checked her out and then called her a “friend”, sir, she is not a mind reader! but he thought if he lowkey hit on her, that she’d realize he was still into her. I also think since she dumped him, for as confident as he is he had some insecurities about fully laying it on her when he approached her at the bar. I originally did have him say the “we don’t have to be” (referring to to them being broken up) to her face, but I changed it when I was editing because it made more sense to me that he would rather test the waters before laying all his cards on the table.)
Calling someone white bread is my favorite lowstakes insult. There’s nothing *wrong* with Zach, but other than asking a female colleague to make coffee his biggest flaw is that he isn’t Bradley Bradshaw. (And yes, I definitely have called [redacted] on many an occasion 😂)
For as much as he missed her and wanted her, he would have absolutely respected her wishes if she didn’t want anything further with him. Like he would have taken any crumb she wanted to offer him and would have been happy (even if it hurt him). So I tried to mimic that with her as well, she would take any bit of interaction she could get from him even if it meant that it would take her that much longer to get over him. (the yearning!thepining!theangstofitall!)
As for their reunion, yeahhhhhhh 😂 He didn’t know if he would get another chance, so he was going to put everythinggggg on the table. I loved how easily he put her at ease, like my heart fluttered with the “as easy as that” because she was dealing with some embarrassment and guilt about how she handled things. And for him everything was forgotten the second he saw her in that bar, so he genuinely meant it AS EASY AS THAT. (I loved the idea of him knowing some of her underwear by feel alone, like he had a lot of time to reminisce on that carrier. I think I literally said “oh shit” when I wrote that line about the app getting deleted. its hooootttttt. He doesn’t want ANYMORE mixed signals. BB is making those intentions *explicitly* knowns 😏)
He’s not Mr. Steal Your Girl he is Mr. Got My Girl Back and I love that for them! And they have a great time reliving their second date in the parking lot of the Hard Deck, lol.
I love your reviews, they make me so happy! Thank you for fangirling with me and supporting my impluse t-shirt purchases!
Bad Idea
Summary: After being deployed for three months, all he wanted was to have a fun night out with his friends and let loose. That is until he sees the woman who broke up with him, who he still isn’t over. At his bar. With another man. And then he is in the mood to make some bad decisions.
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader
Warnings: mutual pining, a little angst, smuttt. Minors DNI
Length: 6.3K
After being deployed for three months, Bradley had been looking forward to getting off that carrier and having a night out with his friends. Having a couple more beers than he should, kicking Hangman’s ass at pool, maybe flirting one of the many tag chasers that frequented the Hard Deck.
He wants to let loose a bit. Just for a while.
The team is scattered around the bar. Some are hovering around the pool table, a few others hogging the dart board. He’s seated at one of the stools around the pool table, half listening to Fanboy recount some of his amusing antics during basic flight training in between lining up his shots, when he feels Phoenix nudge his arm to get his attention.
“Oh shit, is that…” she starts and trails off.
He turns around in his seat expecting to find some friend from a former squadron or someone they went to TOPGUN with, and instead he sees you.
The woman that he has spent the last three months trying to get over.
And you’re here in front of him looking entirely too comfortable with another man.
Keep reading
#you didn't ask for a novel but I wrote you one anyways#enjoy a sprinkle of headcanons#pining!bradley is my favorite bradley#the babe with the bad idea#here have a bradley 🎁
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one and done Part 3
A/N Hey guys so sorry for a late update but here we are!!!! The last part of the series! I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys enjoyed as well! Let me know what you guys think please and also also also thank you for reading!🥰🥰🥰
Side note: I’ll come back and edit my brain hurts
Harry is engaged and having a baby but Y/N is just his best friend’s little sister.
Today’s warning: We are anticipating some heavy smut in this last part. Please prepare for a spitting, spanking, choking, and hair pulling kink, Male receives oral, unprotected sex and just shit like that y’know? I think there is begging in here too LOL OMG they almost had sex outside again but that’s just so inappropriate but yeah... I think that’s all. Oh yes, Y/N rides and just loves being a horny mess hehehe
Word Count: 11k // Masterlist // one and done PLAYLIST / Part 1 / Part 2
If there was one thing Y/N was excited about… it was her last summer of high school. As she reflected on her junior year, she was happy Harry and her were finally in a place where she could just reach out to him and be comfortable. Although they didn’t have labels, it was the last thing on their minds as they spent most of their free time together away from Ryan and any other nosy classmate of theirs. Harry also spoke about long roadtrips. Despite him staying home for college, he was excited to drive his girl to different campuses and check out new destination sites around the many different cities.
They were optimistic they would stay together in the summer yet here they are spending it apart.
Y/N was in her bedroom sitting on the floor wearing Harry’s sweater as she was staring at the pile of scattered clothes on the floor. It was July 6th and even after a month of grieving for her broken heart, she managed to still wear her ex’s sweater… only because it was the sole object that made her feel like what they had was real.
They were so on and off throughout the year and the one time they managed to stick together, it was all washed away. Too many signs telling them they were not meant to be.
But that’s the truth. Y/N thinks to herself as she wipes away a new coming tear falling down her face. Harry and her are not the cliché plot of dating your brother’s best friend. Their relationship was based on lust and ended with unrequited feelings. They are not soulmates. Y/N rests her head against the back of her bed. No matter how much you try to fight it, if you are not meant to be… that’s it.
“Are you okay?” Ryan stops by her doorway with a plate of late dinner. He was also blatantly oblivious to the fact his little sister was wearing a sweater of his best friend’s.
“Yeah, why do you ask?” She stares at him with an unamused expression on her face. Her room was a mess, her head was in places where it shouldn’t be and her heart just felt broken.
“You’ve been in a pissed off mood since last month.” he genuinely states as he walks into his little sister’s room. Maybe before he wouldn’t bother to ask Y/N how she was but the truth is, he is leaving soon and he’s a bit worried with the way Y/N has been taking care of herself.
“Is it that obvious?” Y/N sarcastically laughs as she throws some clothes away for Ryan to sit on her bed. He places his plate on her desk and takes her offer as he looks around the floor.
“You haven’t left the house nor have I seen Ness around.”
“I haven’t really been speaking to her.”
“Oh so you guys fought?”
“No, we didn’t. I just haven’t really been feeling social.”
“Y/N, you know you can talk to me right?”
“I know.” Y/N bites the inside of her cheek knowing full well that she’s lying.
“Will you be coming to the party tomorrow night?” Oh, that’s right. It’s Harry and Carla’s engagement party.
“That’s why I’m cleaning out my closet.” Ryan laughs a bit as he stands up and pats her head.
“You don’t have to impress anyone. You’re not the one getting married.” Y/N feels her throat tighten a bit as she watches him leave her room with his plate. She lets out a sigh before rubbing her face in frustration. If she had the choice, she wouldn’t go but that would also show Harry that she cares more than he thinks. It’s been a month and she had to prove that she was over him and over the deal.
After a couple hours of sulking on her bedroom floor, she finally stands up and takes off his sweater. In the corner of her room is a cardboard box of clothes that were to be packed away and stored in the attic. Without hesitation, she throws the piece of clothing and carries on with her night.
~
“Y/N, you look beautiful sweetheart.” Her mom waits for her at the bottom of the stairs. The sun was just about to set and it was also time for their family to drive to Carla’s home for the party everyone has been anticipating.
“Thank you.” Y/N musters a smile as she glances at herself in the mirror one more time before heading out to the car. Her mom was honestly surprised her daughter was all dressed up for the party tonight, there was something off about her but today, it felt like she had a piece of her daughter back again. Saying nothing out loud, she locks the front door and walks with the young girl towards the vehicle.
Truth be told last night before Y/N fell asleep, she knew today would be her biggest performance. All she knew is that she couldn’t wait for this day to end so she can go back and hide in her room.
“Hey mate.” Harry smirks as he offers a hug to Ryan. The party had just begun and Harry waited outside the house to wait for his best man to arrive. He was shitting his pants at the moment and the only thing that would make him feel a bit more comfortable at his own party is if Ryan was by his side -like the usual.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married, Haz.” Ryan tries to hide his disappointment in front of his family. Y/N and her parents stood behind him waiting for the duo to greet each other first. “I thought we would enjoy our bachelor era a bit you know… longer.” Harry tries to laugh as he makes eye contact with the pretty girl. Once the two pull away, he awkwardly laughs and greets Ryan’s parents.
“Carla is it for me man.” Harry tucks his hands inside the pockets of his trousers. “We’ve been together since grade school, I guess it’s time I tie her down to me forever.” Y/N’s mom laughs and pats his shoulder. The five began to walk to the backyard as she spoke up.
“Forget Ryan, I think you two make a lovely couple and are honest soulmates.” Harry glances at her and flashes a small smile. He thought having Ryan here would make him feel more comfortable but there was only one thought that was processing in his head as they walked the stoned pathway.
This engagement made him feel ten thousand times much worse knowing his in-law family wouldn’t be Ryan’s because the truth is there wouldn’t be anything much better than to have Y/N and Ryan’s parents as his too.
“Hi.” Carla approaches them with a warm smile on her face. The nude slim dress was impressive on her, especially as it made the diamond on her finger stand out more. She casually wraps her arm around Harry's waist as she takes a sip of the mango smoothie in her other hand. Although the smile on her face seemed genuine, Y/N wanted nothing more than to punch the girl’s face. If Harry was a jealous asshole, Y/N was much worse. Keep it together Y/N, please you don’t care. You don’t care.
That was the whole idea for the night anyway. Y/N has barely spoken a word since her father parked the car on the side of the road. She was even the last one to exit the vehicle because in all honesty, she didn’t want to unbuckle her seatbelt. Now, She stands beside her dad once again, shying away from the hosts of the party. Although her mom made her feel beautiful today, there was nothing more than to stand in front of the prettiest girl who has constantly been chosen over her.
“Thank you guys for coming. I’m so happy to meet you all.” Carla smiles as she turns her attention on Harry. She was happy and excited about their future. This whole night felt like a fever dream. Once more she looks at Ryan’s family and speaks up. “There’s a table for your family and dinner will be served out soon. I hope you guys enjoy” She rests her head on her fiancé but notices Y/N staring at her heels. “Are you okay Y/N? You seem a bit off.” And that statement was coming from a concerned person who was genuinely curious if the acquainted junior she got to know this year was alright. Y/N gulps as she makes eye contact with Carla. She was also very careful not to look at Harry.
“Ignore her. She’s been like that for a couple of weeks.” Ryan laughs as he turns around and glances at his sister. “This is your night but I still am wondering why you guys are getting married next month.”
Carla awkwardly smiles and waits for Harry to respond first yet she notices his eyes stay focused on his best friend’s little sister. “We just thought we should get the wedding out of the way before university starts.” Carla squeezes his palm for him to reply to.
“Don’t worry Ryan. I’m sure we’ll do everything we planned to do.” Harry smirks as he turns his back around to the music that just started to play. “Let’s walk you guys to your table, I believe the party is just about to actually begin.”
/
Throughout the night, Y/N did nothing more than fake a smile and applaud as speakers came to the mic and talked about Carla and Harry’s relationship. Blah blah blah. It was the same old thing really, and if she had the choice deep inside, she would wish she was the one sitting beside Harry talking about other things.
Dessert was finally available and due to the lack of activities and entertainment this party has brought to her, she waited until the line died down before she could carry her plate towards the table. She internally sighed as some of the choices were gone, leaving her to pick up a red velvet cupcake and two french macaroons on the side. Once she arrived back to her seat, her family that stayed back continued to talk about the two lovebirds. Her father and Ryan seemed to be having an amusing conversation as her mother made a new friend from the table beside them. Compliments after compliments was the only topic tonight, she really needed to take a walk around the unfamiliar neighbourhood after this.
“Guys, I’m just going inside to use the bathroom.” Her mom nods and acknowledges Y/N’s statement before turning her back once more to talk to another attendee of the party. Grabbing her purse, she excuses herself from the table and shyly walks around the party and towards the sliding door. Once she’s inside the home however, she ignores all the signs that gesture her towards the bathroom and instead makes her way to the front door. Carla’s home was pretty but not enough for her to stay.
“That’s not the washroom.” Harry speaks out as he walks down the staircase re-adjusting the sleeves of his polo. She realized the navy blue blazer he was wearing earlier today was now resting on the ottoman by the end of the railing.
“I was actually going to go on a walk.” She fixes her gaze on the painting in front of her instead of the boy casually making his way down.
“It’s a bit late, d-don’t you think.” He scratches his nose and picks up the article of clothing on the chair. He couldn’t help but stutter as his eyes followed the pink dress on the pretty girl.
“The neighbourhood seems really nice and I’m sure none of the rich families here are going to kidnap me and lock me in their basement.”
“Here.” She notices him walk towards her offering his blazer. “I would invite myself to walk with you but uh I think people would notice.” He rubs his palm against his neck and looks back at the door where the party is.
“It’s okay.” She shakes her head as she rejects his considerate offer. She continues to unlock the door before looking back at him. “I’ll be back soon. Ryan and my parents think I’m in the washroom. So if they ask, just say you don’t know. Congratulations, by the way.” She gives him a sad smile and walks out the door. He’s left speechless as he finally realizes this might be the last time things will be normal between them. “Fuck it.” He murmurs to himself as he rests the blazer behind his back and walks out the front door as well.
“Why are you following me?’ Y/N turns around carefully as she crosses her arms over her chest to keep herself warm. She was also trying very hard not to fall. Harry’s been distracting her all night, she didn’t realize she was wearing heels despite her goal to go on a night walk.
“Because I can’t let you walk around this neighbourhood by yourself!” Harry raises his voice as he tries to catch up with her. “God, I told you, you would need this.” He thoughtlessly puts the blazers over her shoulders as they walk down the slope.
“I promise you, I am not your responsibility anymore. You don’t have to be concerned about my whereabouts.” Y/N murmurs as she accepts the fabric and hugs it around her frame. Harry couldn’t help but look away from her as he heard that statement. Before everything went crumbling down, he used to pick her up and know every update from her. He used to watch out for her and just be there for her but even now, it was no longer okay.
“Who’s going to watch over you when I’m gone.” His voice is a bit more quieter now as they exit Carla’s neighbourhood.
“I don’t know. I always expected you were going to stay.” She glances at him before walking ahead of him.
“I know you’re mad and I’m sorry I had to put you through a lot.” He pulls her wrist to make her stop walking.
“How can I not be mad, Harry?” She closes her eyes, trying to not let the new formed tears in her eyes show. “You constantly choose Carla and the moment you finally break up with her. I get you and then you what… ghost me, break up with me? I don’t hear from you for 2 months only to find out you’re engaged! Fuck you.” She quickly wipes away a tear from her face. “God, I- You cheated on me! Didn’t you?”
“Y/N.” His heart beat drops as her voice raises. Never in his life has he seen Y/N this upset.
“No. It makes sense. Carla is barely even showing yet. It’s been three months and you…” She steps away from him and looks around. “I don’t know -you didn’t even have the audacity to tell me you don’t like me anymore.”
“I didn’t know how to react when you told me that.”
“Well you did.. You ignored my calls and continued to see Ryan.” She shrugs her shoulders and sarcastically laughs. “It’s fine. Now that I think about it, maybe I said it in the heat of the moment.”
“I know I messed up.” He bites his lip and runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know why I reacted like that. Carla has always been so familiar to me… and with you, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”
“Like what?” The monotone question rolls off the tip of her tongue.
“The fear I guess. I’m scared of losing Ryan, your family and um, you.” He clears his throat. “It’s just there’s so much on the line when it comes to you and me. Maybe if I tried harder, we wouldn’t be here right now but we are.”
“Well if it makes you feel better,” She takes a pause and stares directly at him. “I didn’t really mean what I said that day. You freaked out on something that was a typical post orgasm statement.” She lies.
“Why are you lying?” He shakes his head in disappointment. “Why are you trying to hurt me? You think this hasn’t been difficult enough.”
“No, I’m not lying. It’s true.” She attempts to walk again but his hand grabs her immediately letting her know, their conversation is not over.
“So you’re saying you don’t love me.”
“No, I don’t love you.”
“Bullshit!”
“Harry, I don’t even owe you an explanation!” and sometimes when you force yourself to lie too much, you begin to cry. “Fuck.” He immediately hugs her as she cries on his shoulder. “I don’t think we should do this.”
“I could never leave you alone, you know that right?” He whispers in her ear as he wraps his arms tighter around her frame.
“You have to. We can’t do this.” Y/N repeats herself as she tries to pull away. His scent is just so fucking intoxicating. It was his scent that made her drastically attached to him and now she knew like from the start, it was time to go.
“If my wishes came true, it would’ve been you.” He tries to keep her in his embrace. He was rambling at this point but he had no idea what his goal was. Is he trying to persuade her to stay or to let her go?
“You made your choices, Harry. All you have to do is lie in it.” She pulls away and wipes away her tears. “We’re just these high schoolers that found a loophole in our deal. Carla though, she has always been the one for you.”
“You’re right though. I- I guess I always choose her in the end.”
“Make her happy H.” She gives a sad smile and shrugs her shoulders. Despite wanting to punch her face, Y/N knew the look in her eyes as she watched Harry. Carla was always madly in love with him and forever will be.
Harry and Y/N were just a glitch in the system.
“I hope I see you again. Maybe Christmas huh?” He looks down at his shoes as the girl gives him back his blazer.
“Maybe Christmas.” And without a word, Y/N walks back to the house leaving Harry to walk around the neighbourhood himself.
-
Harry and Carla had just gotten married and on the night of their reception, they announced their pregnancy. Y/N was there. She witnessed the smile on Ryan’s face, on her parents’ face and on Harry’s. Everyone was happy except for her.
The night left her to play with the food on her plate as it was her only source of entertainment. Broccoli grouped with the carrots suddenly being grouped with the steak. How about we make a snowman? To be honest, moping a bit too much at the event left her clueless to the fact the groom has been watching her all night.
It wasn’t a choice for him. Of course, he looked at other guests and spoke to Carla throughout the night but for some reason as he mindlessly ate his food and restated his vows to his wife, Y/N was the only thing his eyes could focus on. He’s been looking for her face in every room for a year and to be exact, nothing about his feelings has changed -Except tonight was the last day, he would ever feel like this again.
There were only three rules Harry gave himself tonight.
Rule 1: Don’t try and make conversation with Y/N.
Rule 2: Don’t beat the guy who offers her a dance.
Last but not least, Rule 3: Don’t tell her you love her.
And it was a success because he watched her walk out with an unfamiliar guy and come back with a flushed neck and red cheeks. He knew she totally got fucked in the washroom and all he did was take a sip of his glass as the fist on his lap began to form once again.
/
It’s been a week since and her whole house is a mess. She has been currently helping her brother move his things to the moving truck they rented. Her little grieving process was cut short due to the fact, things around her started to change so quickly. Ryan was on his way out of here. Harry and Carla were probably on an island, trying to make another sub baby and Ness started to come by more often.
The thing about her best friend is that Nessa understands space but she won’t let Y/N peacefully sulk for more than a month. To successfully distract her, the duo have been taking road trips around the cities and visiting different campuses together. Although it was an old plan of her and Harry’s, Y/N couldn’t help but feel delighted to have Ness back once again.
She cleaned out her room and removed all her old soccer trophies because for some odd reason, they reminded her of Harry. She even went to the measures of blocking his number and deleting pictures from their past dates off her phone.
She knew she wasn’t ready to let him go but he was now married, living in a new city with his own family. There was no other choice but to forget this shit happened.
Senior year was just about to begin for Y/N and if there was one thing she needed, it was a fresh start. No love interests, no heartbreaks. Just fun experiences before she leaves this hell hole.
After all, if you never bleed, you’re never going to grow.
~
3 years later…
“You’re going to be fucking late.” Ness throws a pillow at her best friend as she enters the room. “You have that plane to catch.”
“Fuck, what time is it.” Y/N murmurs as she could feel some drool on her pillow case.
“10:30.”
“Fuck!” She sits up immediately and grabs her phone. Her flight is leaving in an hour and God knows the traffic in Seattle. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner!”
“Because your lazy ass wouldn’t wake up.” Ness walks out of the room and drinks her coffee. She was totally unfazed about her best friend panicking. “Relax.” Y/N gives her a death glare in return as she brushes her teeth in the kitchen. The two were very used to each other since they’ve not only been best friends for a long time but also roommates after moving to a new city.
“My brother’s wedding is in two days and I’m not even there yet.”
“Tell Ryan to choke for not inviting me, by the way.” Ness scrolls though the news feed on her phone as she casually bites into her bagel.
“Okay, I think I have everything.” Y/N walks out of her room in tights and an oversized sweater. “I really have to go.”
“You’re going to see him again, you know that right?” Ness really didn’t want to be the one to bring him up again but shit, Y/N looked like a dead zombie.
“It’s fine.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders. She couldn’t care less if she sees Harry again. “The last time I saw him, Carla and him were acting like total love birds at my mom and dad’s thanksgiving party.”
“That was like two years ago.” Ness tries to contain her laugh as she remembers their new pet names. Honey bunny and sweet treat. Oh to be in the honeymoon phase once again.
“Don’t think I forgot what you used to call Tom.” Y/N laughs as she rolls her luggage to the door.
“Shut up.” Nessa’s eyes widen as she throws a crumb at her. “That’s why I broke up with him.”
“Yeah, yeah. You better answer my call okay?”
“Yes babe, I know. I love you, take care!”
“Bye!”
And after the long haul of successfully boarding the plane, Y/N had five hours before she could finally see Ryan and his soon to be bride in Boston.
She was definitely nervous. The last wedding she attended was Harry’s and she knew full well how she badly coped with that. Not to mention how she calculated her schedule so she could “accidently” miss Ryan’s engagement party. Truth is, she doesn’t care about Harry but if there was any way she could try and dodge another awkward encounter...that’s what living in another city is for.
He also wasn’t really an ex but just a person in her life who managed to make her happy and sad at the same time. James had no idea who he was since she believed it was best to make that portion of her adolescence a secret. Just buried along with the other dreams she used to have.
After watching two movies and playing a random phone game, the plane finally landed. Y/N managed to brush her teeth and make herself look a bit more presentable after a heated run out of her apartment. Once she was at the pick up centre to grab her luggage, her heart beat began to increase signaling that she failed to neutralize her anxiety. Beads of sweat began to form on her forehead as she walked past the crowd of people. There was a constant voice in her head screaming at her to tell Ryan her flight just got cancelled. Unfortunately, Ryan was on time as she could picture his figure right outside the window of the airport.
“Hey.” Ryan smiles as he gives his little sister a hug. He saw her a couple months ago but time still makes everything different. He’s happy his sister is finally here.
“Hi.” Y/N tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as the wind blows by them. “I see you got a nice haircut.”
“I did.” Ryan laughs as he carries his sister’s suitcase into his trunk.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married Ry! I swear to god, it was only yesterday you were complaining to Harry about his wedding.” Y/N squints her eyes due to the sun shining directly at her. She uses her hand to cover the side of her face as she lets out a joke,“Are you sure about her?”
“Meghan? Absolutely.” Ryan shuts the door as they stand there. “ I didn’t know what Haz was talking about when he told me he wanted to marry Carla but shit, when I met Meghan… I-”
“You’re whipped more than ever.” She smiles as she notices her brother’s cheeks flush. She tried to change the topic immediately after her brother said his name. “I knew Cassidy wasn’t the one.”
“Sure you did.” Ryan rolls his eyes as they sit in his car. “How about you? Any new updates?”
“No not really.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders as she puts on her seatbelt. “James and I have been together for a year now which is crazy-”
“I wish the guy could have come to the wedding, didn’t know how serious you guys were.”
“Honestly, if he didn’t have that internship at the hospital, I would’ve tried and persuaded him some more.”
“It’s okay.” Ryan laughs as he shakes his head. “Meghan found you a date already and I’m sure you’re going to be okay with it.” Y/N eyes widen.
“I was going to go stag.” She looks out the window in disbelief. It wasn’t her fault, her boyfriend was trying to get into medical school.
“Don’t worry sis. It’s a platonic date -that’s all it is going to be.” Ryan reassures her as he drives out of the parking lot.
“Let me tell James. Just in case, he might get jealous.” She pulls out her phone. “Who is this guy anyway?”
“I’m not telling you but who knows, James might fly over here just so you don’t go with a random guy.” Ryan smirks as he exits the highway.
“Who is he?”
“It’s a surprise.” Ryan tries to hide his laugh.
“Does he know you’re setting me up with him.”
“Please.” Her brother scoffs. “The guy is always too nice, he offered first.”
“Well, shit then.”
“You’ll get to know him before the wedding I promise. At least, you have company other than mom and dad.”
“So you’re going to let a random guy just sit at our table?”
“You have no idea.” And truth be told, Y/N wasn’t worried about the date Ryan and Meghan set up for her. Maybe it was one of Meghan’s family members who thought she was still single. It didn’t matter though because this event was for her brother and that’s all that was important.
“Oh my god!” Ryan and Y/N’s mother stood outside the house waiting at the driveway for them to arrive.
“Hi mom!” Y/N gives her a warm hug. “I missed you, where’s dad?”
“He’s inside with-”
“Y/N.” Y/N’s dad steps through the doorframe and meets Y/N at the steps for a hug as well. She knew her father couldn’t walk that much due to his recent hip surgery. What she didn't expect however, was for Harry to be following right behind him. “I missed you darling.”
“Hi dad I missed you more, I didn’t know Harry was here.” Y/N backs away and turns her back to look at Ryan. He didn’t seem surprised at all as he carried her luggage towards them.
“Hey.” Harry offers a small wave, seeming too quiet. He kept his hands behind his back as he observed the girl in front of him. It’s been two years and a lot has changed. Y/N thought he would still have his long hair yet it is very evident, he had a haircut as well. He also seemed much more muscular as well as the new addition of tattoos on his arm. While she stared at him, she didn’t realize Harry was noticing all the different features she had too. Her hair was longer and darker and she carried a different aura than before. She didn't look like the girl whose bedroom he used to sneak into.
“Hi Harry.” Y/N didn’t know how to start a conversation with him.
“I guess you met your date.” Ryan walks ahead of them and laughs as he continues to bring in the bags.
“Harry's my date?” Y/N asks in shock as she follows him behind. Her mom slaps her arm as Harry and their dad follow.
“Don’t act offended, You’ve known Harry since you were a kid.”
“Aren’t you married though.” Y/N turns her back and looks at Harry before facing the front again as she suddenly became distracted by the house’s decorations.
“I actually got divorced.” Harry bites his tongue right after.
“See, now look what you did. You embarrassed the young boy.” Y/N’s mom rubs his back as she murmurs to him. “I’m sorry, Haz.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” He shakes his head, trying to act as if the topic didn’t make him feel uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry too.” Y/N finally looks at him once more. “I had no idea.”
“It’s been a year. That’s what happens when you marry too young.” He laughed it off but everyone ignored that statement as they all knew there was a deeper cut in his heart.
When Carla was around 5 months, she had a miscarriage and although, they claimed they would try again… there was no new announcement after that.
“Y/N, this is your room.” Ryan tries to change the topic as he scratches his head.
“Thank you.” She steps inside for a bit of privacy after a long flight. Ryan and Harry along with her parents went back to the living room to go and continue their movie.
~
Today is Ryan’s wedding and the house was giving her many little flashbacks of Harry’s. The family was in this foreign home and was still running around getting ready. Her mother was screaming at her dad as he decided last minute to steam his suit. Ryan and Meghan were gone which left Harry and Y/N the only victims to her mother’s loudness. The two kept quiet as her mother ran around the house doing her hair and calling relatives for updates. Y/N managed to be ready on time so it let her sit on the couch looking at the photos in which mehgan has framed around the room.
“Your dad said I should drive you to the venue now. I think they’re definitely running late.” Harry speaks up after two days of ignoring her. The truth is last night when he went to the kitchen he saw Y/N sitting down on one of the counters and maybe if it was three years ago, he would’ve spoken to her but something about now told him to go back to his bedroom. He used to feel comfortable around her but now he’s walking around her as if he was on eggshells. He was so fucking nervous.
“Okay.” She agrees with him. Harry was the best man and she didn’t want him to be late because of her parents. Y/N puts her phone in the purse resting on her shoulder as she follows him out of the house. She would’ve been a bit more calm if she didn’t end her call with James midway through their fight.
“Um A-Are you okay?” He opens the door for her as he tries not to check her out. It was definitely difficult however as the way her long hair was styled and the pretty dress she wore. Luckily for Y/N, while Harry was doing some errands at home, she managed to “observe” him in his suit.
“Yeah, I’m good.” She lets out a small smile as she realizes Harry was still driving his car back from high school. You know the vehicle they had sex i-
“Alright.” The man breaks her out of the thought as he starts the car. “I promise tonight isn’t going to be weird around us.”
“Who said it was?”
“I don’t know I guess I just assumed.” He bites his cheek as he glances at her. That’s when the déjà vu hits and he feels like he’s eighteen years old again. She keeps her eyes on the road yet she had no idea that Harry was picturing her seventeen year old self sitting in the seat beside him. One of his favourite memories to be exact.
Flashback*
“So you’re kidnapping me to go camping in the woods.” Y/N smiles as she watches the unfamiliar road in front of them. Harry takes his shades off and passes it to the girl as he notices the sun is shining much more brighter than before.
“Hey, you got permission from your parents.” He smirks at her as he keeps his hand on the gear stick.
“They think I’m sleeping over at Nessa’s.” Y/N laughs as she puts on the shades and looks at him. His cheeks turn red as he catches the sight of the pretty girl wearing everything of his.
“Is little Y/N scared of the dark?” His hand smoothly travels to her thigh.
“I am not.” Y/N chokes on her breath. It was bad enough Harry looked so hot whilst he was driving.
“I think you are.” He notices her breathing becoming a bit more short. “You and me in a tent alone in the dark.” His hand goes a bit more south, gipping her inner thigh.
“I have a surprise for you.” She blurts out. She was also seconds close to making Harry pull over to the side of the road.
“And what is that?”
“I’ve been wearing a plug and I’m ready.” The speed of the car increases a bit as he mindlessly presses his foot to the sound of her voice. He looks at her one more time before taking over the car in front of them.
“Fuck then. My baby once again proves that she isn’t as innocent as I thought.”
End of flashback*
The venue was beautiful. Ryan and Meghan chose this beautiful garden that had tulips growing everywhere. The white gazebo was obviously where the wedding would take place as the reception was only a stoned pathway ahead. Since Harry was the best man and Y/N was his date, she managed to follow him around the place as he spoke to the event planner and the maid of honour. She had a whole tour of the location as Harry spoke about the party’s process to her. Not only that, but he was an amazing date -he kept his hand on her back and introduced her to people she didn’t know.
Currently, she was sitting on the bench watching Harry talk to some familiar faces. They seemed like a few boys Ryan and he would hang out with back in high school. She was mindlessly watching him laugh and smile throughout the conversation until she didn’t realize he was already staring at her. After excusing himself, he walked back towards her.
“I’m sorry, If I’m boring yeh.” Harry rubs his neck as he sits down beside her. The wedding was about to start in a couple of hours.
“No, you’re not.” Y/N laughs as she keeps her eyes on the lake behind him. She suddenly remembers their camping trip. She shakes her head at the thought and shrugs her shoulders. “How are you feeling?”
“About the wedding?” He pulls down the sleeves of his dark grey suit. She nods her head and waits for him to continue. “I’m happy Ryan is marrying Meghan. It’s funny how he thought he would stay single for long.”
“I remember him telling you that when you were engaged.” She bites the inside of her cheek. She definitely just put her foot in her mouth again. She was definitely known for that but Harry didn’t seem fazed at all about her statement.
“I mean don’t get me wrong, Weddings are a bit difficult to attend at the moment just because I know mine didn’t end well but um…” He clears his throat and faces himself more towards her. “I also got married knowing I wasn’t really in love with the girl.” Y/N finally looks at him as she watches the familiar green eyes say the truth.
“I know.” She nods her head again. “Things are different now and I hope you do find the girl that you are 100% about.”
“Yeah.” He looks at the patch of flowers in front of them. He would tell her what he thinks but he knows she’s dating someone.
“Let’s go check out your brother.” Harry stands up and offers his hand out. “I’m sure he’s wondering where we are.”
And so the event continued. Y/N’s parents arrived and so did the other guests. The beautiful girl in her wedding dress walked down the aisle and Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off the girl sitting in the crowd.
It was simple for him, he knows he’s not over her but he wouldn’t tell her that.
Would he tell her that he started coming home more after Carla’s miscarriage in hope of seeing her? No.
He definitely can’t tell her that he was hurt. He would come over to their house only to find out she wasn’t home or when he found out she was moving to Seattle for college.
After the past two years, Ryan briefly mentions her and James and he felt like he no longer had a chance. At least with her.
So standing beside Ryan as his best man felt like a total shot in the heart because Harry knew he wasted his time and lost the girl as well.
Y/N catches his eyes watching her and just for a moment, she wished things were different too.
~
When the reception started, Harry and Y/N along with her parents sat at one of the tables close to the bride and groom
The hosts were right however, as Harry fit perfectly with the family. Throughout dinner, he made jokes and started conversing with her parents more than she thought. Although he gave her some attention, he didn’t fail to compliment her mother as well.
The two sat together eating dessert as he leaned over to whisper something in her ear. “I’ll let you have a bite out of my brownie if I can steal a bite from your cake.” Harry smirks as he takes a sip of his glass of tequila. He wasn’t trying to get drunk but a little strong (strong) alcohol should cause no harm. Y/N casually steals the glass from his hand and takes a sip as well.
The two were finally much more comfortable with each other after spending the day side by side. Harry laughs as he takes his fork and steals a bite of her cake. The red velvet flavour melting in his mouth as he watches the girl swallow the rest of his drink.
“Sorry, I’m a bit quenched.” Y/N laughs as she puts the glass down and stabs her fork back into her cake. His fork immediately swats hers away.
“I’m not done with my bite.” He teases her as he pulls the small plate towards him. Y/N mouth drops.
“You guys fight like children.” Her dad speaks up and smiles at the scene in front of them.
“He asked to steal a bite but he stole the whole plate.” She laughs as she watches him shove numerous tiny bites in his mouth. Y/N mom laughs as she smiles at the cheeky boy.
“I said you can have some of my brownie but you proceed to finish my drink.”
“You seem a little drunk anyway.” She lies as she leans forward to take the brownie from his plate.
“Want some shots.” Harry blurts out as he finishes the dessert. “You finished my drink so I’m heading back to the bar… you still might be a bit quenched.”
“Okay.” She laughs as the two excuse themselves from the table.
~
“Do you remember the scrunchie on my wrist and you called me out on it.” Harry slowly dances with Y/N as the night continues on. The event was almost over but all the attendees were on the dance floor dancing to Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran. As a proper stellar date, Harry didn’t hesitate to ask the girl for a dance as he knew last time he missed out.
“I know you stole it.” Y/N laughs as she unconsciously rests her head on his shoulder. The truth is when in doubt, Y/N always drinks a bit more than usual. It seems whenever Harry is around, she can’t help but be drunk.
“Oh really?” He pulls away and laughs. “I was going to tell you an old story but you already know.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she looks at the people surrounding them. Nobody was shocked to see how close they were dancing. Everyone was in their own little bubble and maybe if Y/N and Harry didn’t break the ice or drink a bit, they would definitely not be as bold as they are right now.
“No! You have to tell me now.” Her eyes widen as she readjusts her hands on her shoulders. Harry smirked at her anticipation as he willingly rests his hands back on her waist.
“It was the first night we made the deal.” He whispers quietly hoping no one would hear them. “It was on your vanity and I took it after you sleepily threw my clothes at me.” They both laugh at the old memory.
“I saw you wearing it during the game.”
“So did you always watch me back then? Probably just wanted to get into my pants.” Y/N cheeks flush as she hides her face away from him.
“You’re acting as if I never caught you staring right back at me.”
“True.” he twirls her around. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off you after that deal you offered.” Y/N immediately pulls away after he hears the statement roll of his tongue.
“Harry, I know tonight has probably been the most normal conversation we had with each other but… We can’t go back there.” She walks off the dance floor, making him follow her without hesitation. Instead of going back to their table however, she makes a b line to the unlighted pathway of the garden.
“Hey, don’t go. I’m sorry I ruined the moment.” He unbuttons the top of his vest seeing his blazer was still on his chair. “I spoke about fight club-”
“You remember that?” Y/N slows down her speed and turns around. “It’s been three years and you still remember it?”
“Why don’t you?” Harry turns his back around to notice the bushes covering them from the rest of the party.
“Of course I do but you got married and moved away. I just thought that would slip your mind.”
“Well it didn’t.” He musters up a small smile and shrugs his shoulders. “Look, can we go back to the party and pretend I didn’t mess this up.”
“It’s not about you messing up H. It’s the fact that I still get flashbacks of you and I -and seeing you here again is making me feel like the past three years didn’t happen.”
“I didn’t see you during Christmas.” He blurts out as he watches her sigh. “Any holiday except thanksgiving to be exact.”
“Well, I moved to Seattle and couldn’t book a flight home every time of the year.”
“Carla is dating someone new.” Y/N nods her head. “And I’m still not able to get you out of my head.”
“You might just ghost me next time around.” She lets out a sarcastic laugh as she tries her best not to trip over herself as she walks a bit further into the pathway.
“I told you I regret doing that.” He continues to follow her. “It’s been three years and you’re still mad about it.”
“I’m not mad. I’m just saying whenever it’s you and I, you tend to ghost me and run back to Carla.”
“If it makes you feel better, I could give a fuck less what Ryan thinks of us. It’s why I asked him if I could be your date.”
“I have a boyfriend Harry! An actual boyfriend who waits for me after work everyday. A boyfriend who actually replies to my calls-”
“He hasn’t even met Ryan or your parents!”
“And-”
“Look Y/N, all I’m saying is I don’t care about this fucking guy!” Harry sternly walks towards her until he backs her up to a wall of vines.
“Then why are you trying to talk about our old memories and shit like that.”
“Because,” He pauses as he thoughtlessly rests his hands on either side of her head. “I fucking care about you. The moment Carla had a miscarriage and she needed me the most, I needed you! I didn’t realize I let you go the moment I went back to her.”
“Harry…”
“So it’s true, you didn’t love me.” He pulls away but Y/N brings her hands up to his face to keep his eyes on her.
“Of course, I did.” Y/N cries as she shakes her head in disbelief. “Why would you think that would be true? You called me out on it before.”
“I came back every couple of months hoping to see you at home with your parents. You were always gone.”
“Did you actually?”
“Fuck.” He pulls away and runs his hand through his short hair. He swore he would never tell her this. Is this how desperate he is now. “Yeah, of course I did. I knew you would leave for college but I wish I knew from you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not even your fault.” He laughs as he hugs her. “I want you back.” His arms wrap around her much more tightly than before. “Please.”
“James-”
“Do you love him?”
“Harry, don’t ask that?”
“No, I want to know.”
“Well I don’t know because after what you did-”
“Then you still love me.” He looks up at her in hope she would say yes. Just admit it, please.
“Okay and if I do -what do I do now? I like James and although it hasn’t been long I’m sure something will change.”
“Can’t you see?” He directs her back to the wall of vines. “You were always mine the same way, I was always yours.”
“The loophole of our deal.” She mumbles out loud as her hands mindlessly hold onto his forearms.
“The deal has always meant more to me than it should’ve.” He whispers as the sound of music and distant chatter is the only thing they can hear.
And I want to tell you everything
The words I never got to say the first time around
And I remember everything
From when we were the children playing in this fairground
Wish I was there with you now
If the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you
Drive highways and byways to be there with you
Over and over the only truth
Everything comes back to you
“Just kiss me already.” Y/N watches him as she lets out one more breath. Without hesitation he kisses her as the grip on her waist tightens. Y/N’s hands immediately play with the curls that reach the nape of his neck.
“Fuck, I missed you.” His soft lips rub on her left cheeks as he rubs himself on her. His hands begin to wonder in disbelief that she’s in his arms again. Her scent clouding his thoughts that they haven’t even noticed they’re still at a party.
“I want you.” Her hips raise itself on him as she rests her back on the cement behind her. “Harry, please.”
“We’re going home.” He bites his lip as his eyes darken. Without even thinking of what others would say, he mindlessly holds her hand as they walk out of the secluded space. The two didn’t bother telling anyone they were leaving the party as he basically dragged the poor girl to his car.
“Do you even know how to get inside Ryan’s house.” She giggles as she keeps herself close to his arm. He takes his blazer and rests it on her shoulders back like a few years ago.
“I have my ways.” He smirks as he helps her inside the vehicle.
This whole event felt like déjà vu. The wedding, the car ride, the quick secret escape from a party just to have sex. If there was one thing Y/N and Harry were good at, it’s probably how good they were at keeping themselves as a secret.
“I’ve missed you more than I thought.” Y/N bites her lip as she rests her head on the seat, watching Harry drive.
Him in his suit too focused on driving them home made her want to fuck his brains out. Truly.
Harry’s cheeks flush as he takes her hand into his. “I’m no longer that frat boy you used to know. I’m much nicer.”
“Oh really, in what ways?” she smirks as she eyes the growing bulge in his pants.
“I promise you won’t be able to leave my room tonight that’s for sure.”
“Then I’m happy.”
/
Moist air, dark night, and bodies clinging to each other as Harry struggled to open the front door. As the groom’s best friend, of course he had keys to his house. Y/N couldn’t help but keep her hands on his slim torso as there was something about just holding them that was driving her crazy.
“Fuck, your parents are going to wonder where we are.”
“I don’t fucking care.” Y/N licks the side of his neck before running inside. She’s trying to laugh quietly as she attempts to take off her heels. Harry being the responsible one, he texts Y/N’s dad they went home. Afterwards, he stops by Y/N’s room to lock it before he follows the girl into his room.
Once he locks the door, he realizes Y/N managed to take all her clothes off as she laid on his bed. “For fuck’s sake.” He mumbles to himself as he forgot how horny and crazy Y/N can be. He rubs the slight stubble on his chin as he watches the girl bite her lip and roll in his sheets. “You’re such a little devil aren’t you?”
“Like I said I missed you.” She fakes her confidence as Harry crawls up to meet her on the mattress. His finger takes the lip out between her teeth as his lips move forward to kiss her once again. His goal was to lay her down and kiss her naked body but it seemed like Y/N had other plans in mind. Her arms push him away as she kneels on the mattress. Keeping her eyes on him, she unbuttons the rest of his vest before spreading her palms over where his heart beat. Harry is speechless but the moment she began to unbuckle his belt he had to say something.
“Oh I see.” He smiles as his hand holds Y/N’s chin to his face. “I thought my girl really did miss me but it seems like she missed my dick a bit more huh? You want it?” He grips her face a bit harder as her hands maintain on his waistline. She nods shyly as she tries to continue her action.
“Fine, do what you want but I’m not done with you yet.” His voice softens as his hand immediately brushes the soft hair away from her face. His green eyes watch her drool over him as she unzips his pants. His hands on the flip side continued to remove the white long sleeve off his body. “Take it in your mouth. I know you’re dying too baby.” Y/N cheeks turn red as her tongue peaks out to kiss his hard cock. The funny thing is, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him despite being a horny mess. Sex was never the same if it wasn’t with harry and that was a fact because the moment she put him in her mouth, he pushed himself harder until he could feel the back of her throat.
The constant humming and gagging sounds wasn’t enough for him because the moment he pulled himself out of her little wet hole. He pulls her hair harder to keep her eyes on him. Without even hesitating, he spits in her mouth and puts his dick back in. From the way Y/N’s eyes rolled back, he knew full well that this was his girl and some things don’t change...especially the way she reacts to him.
“Are you going to let me fuck your mouth baby?” He moans quietly as he softly strokes her scalp. “How many times are you going to make me cum huh?” Y/N chokes a bit as he thrusts himself at a faster rate. “Always so pretty aren’t you dove?” He pulls himself out and slaps her tit. “What do you want me to do?” He whispers as kisses her lips once more. His mouth thoughtlessly kisses down the side of her neck as his hands press and grope on her tits.
“I want you everywhere.” His eyes watch her dilated ones as he slowly pushes her down the mattress.
“Hm, I don’t think you want to as much I thought?” He teases her as one of his fingers pops into his mouth and later into hers.
“You want me to beg?” Her tongue swirls around his digit as she lays helplessly on his pillows. “Never.”
“Never?” Harry laughs as his wet fingers pretended to walk down her body to her heated centre. “When did my baby become such a brat?” The devious smirk plays on his face as his tongue licks the side of his mouth.
“I’ve always been a brat.”
“Oh, so you don’t want me to fuck you is that what you’re saying?” His hands immediately stop teasing her as he begins to jerk himself off -slowly but surely.
“I do.” She tries to sit up but his hand pushes her back down immediately. “Harry, please?”
“Is that you begging me?” He laughs as his thumb wipes a bead of precum on his dick. “I would rate that three out of ten, Extra point because good girls say please.”
“Baby...” Y/N moans out as she tries to reach for him but Harry’s hands immediately grabs them and places them above her head.
“Just beg a bit better and maybe you wouldn’t have to work so hard, love. You said it before so show me you want me.”
“Daddy please fuck me.”
“Like music to my ears.” He spreads her legs open and pushes himself inside her. “Fuck.” It’s always the condom that gets to him.
“No, stay.” She whines as she holds onto his wait. “Please, I’m on birth control and James and I don’t really-”
“What?” His eyes widen as he bites the inside of his cheek. “What did you say?”
“He’s an intern at this hospital so he’s just always been busy.” She whispers in embarrassment. Don’t get her wrong, she has sex just not as much as she thought she should.
“Fucking hell.” He mumbles as he thrusts himself a bit harder into her. “No one has taken care of you in a while huh?” He bends down and kisses her again. The soft wet licks stay longer as he hears the beat of her heart. It was beating fast just like his.
“Mhm. Please Harry just fuck me.” She cries out as she takes his fingers back into her mouth. His thrusts become harder and harder as he watches her face cry in pleasure. “Oh daddy, fuck.”
“So fucking good. You’re such an angel oh shit.” His palm immediately chokes her. He couldn’t help but watch how her tits move up and down due to the force he’s putting into her.
“Let me ride you.” Her hips thrust up and meet him. Her mouth opens wide at the feeling.
“You sure about? Sure you can still take me?” His hand gives her a little slap to the cheek.
“Of course I can.” Y/N smirks. Harry immediately pulls himself off her as he lays down on the mattress himself. “You think I’m going to let you fuck me all night long. I’ve been wanting to fuck your brains out.”
“Y/N,” He smirks as he watches her straddle him. “You think you can fuck my brains out? You seem pretty fucking confident, baby.” He flicks her nipple which makes her press herself deeper onto his dick.
“I can.” She closes her eyes as Harry watches the moonlight shine on her face.
“Yeah, then show me.” He slaps the side of her thigh more harder than before. “Fuck me. Just use me then.”
“Just promise I’ll be a good girl, daddy.” her hands slide down to his waist.
“Promise.” He bites his lip and watches their wet desperate centres meet.
And in that moment, there was nothing but lust in their eyes as they fucked back and forth. Y/N moaning as Harry continued slapping her ass. He couldn’t help but thrust his hips as well due the fact there was nothing better than feeling Y/N’s desperate pussy clenching for more.
“Go on all fours.” He cries out after a few more rounds. Y/N wasn’t lying since she definitely fucked his brain out. There was nothing on their minds other than jumping each other’s bones over and over again.
Once she’s in position, he slaps her ass once again before putting himself back in.
“Oh god, shit baby.” Y/N bites the end of his pillowcase as she keeps her hands on the headboard. “You’re so big, I can’t anymore fuck.”
“I know you have one more in you, come on baby.” He pulls her hair and slaps her ass once more.
“Fuck!” She moans out as she feels his wet spit travel down her pussy. Harry immediately thrusts harder as the sweat on his neck begins to bother him. His thrusts were becoming sloppy but he needed Y/N to cum one more time.
“God, fuck me.” Harry moans out as Y/N finally cums one more time around him. Without even thinking, he releases himself inside of her and pulls her hair harder one more time. She immediately falls down as she can’t feel a thing. Harry felt her clench around him despite his need to pull himself off her.
“Baby, you have to let go.” He kisses the back of her shoulder and grips the side of her waist.
“Please don’t go.” She cries out and wipes her tears on the pillowcase. Harry slowly pulls himself off and lays on the bed beside her. He puts himself back in and wipes her tears away. His arm pulls her closer to him as he whispers one more thing into her ear.
“I love you.”
~
“Glad to see you two are awake.” Y/N’s mom waits in the kitchen as she makes pancakes on the stove. “Ryan and Meghan left last night right after the reception.” She suspiciously keeps her eyes on the two as they walk together to the breakfast table. “Harry, thank you for leaving the door unlocked. We came home around one last night.” Oh shit did they hear us? Y/N looks at Harry who seems bothered as he takes a sip of the coffee in his mug.
“I didn’t hear you two.” She brings the plate to the table. “If you’re wondering Y/N.”
“Mom, it’s not what-” Her cheeks flush in an embarrassment.
“Oh please, don’t bother lying. I already lied, Harry was the one who opened the door for us.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “And Harry, don’t bother giving me an excuse. It makes sense.” She sits down with the two of them. “You always kept visiting us back home and the way your eyes watched her when she came here after her flight gave it all away.”
“Not to mention, you answering the door shirtless and Y/N not responding when we knocked on her door last night.” Y/N’s dad appears with a newspaper in hand.
“Does Ryan know?” Harry looks at Y/N and puts a pancake on her plate. Does her parents even know she’s wearing his clothes?
“Ryan saw you two leave together.” Y/N’s mom laughs. “Don’t worry, it was him and Meghan’s idea to also try and pair you guys together.”
“Wait so he’s okay with it.” Y/N speaks up after murmuring a thank you to Harry.
“Of course he is, Y/N. You guys are no longer teenagers right? So make your own choices for Christ’s sake.” Her mom states in disbelief.
“Did you know I’ve been seeing her back in high school?”
“Harry.” Y/N’s dad’s tone changed. Sounded a bit like disappointment.
“Oh god, there is more to the story?” Y/N’s mom rolls her eyes. “Alright, eat up everyone, you two have to tell us everything.”
~
“So this is it.” Y/N smiles as she sits in his car. The two were currently at the airport. “I had no idea, you relocated to Boston. It makes sense why you had so many things in your room back at Ryan’s house.”
“Yeah, I transferred last year. I’m hoping to finish here, graduate and then see what else I can do.”
“What do you think this means for us?” She puts her shades on as she pulls on the sleeves of her light sweater that she was wearing over her collared shirt.
“It means that this is when I ask you if you would please be my girlfriend.” Y/N’s cheeks flush and she hides her face in her hands.
“Are you for real?” She laughs.
“Yes.” He smirks as he keeps his hands on the steering wheel.
“I will be your girlfriend, Harry.”
“Good. You’re breaking up with James right.” Y/N rolls her eyes and nods.
“I’m ending it with him, the moment I land back in the city.”
“Make some space, I might move there.” He lightly jokes but there was some truth in it. Meghan and Ryan were married, there was no need for him to take up some space in their house.
“Sure, you’ll love Seattle and Ness is there too.”
“I like that. Will you introduce me to your ex?” Y/N laughs as she opens her door.
“No.” but right before she can get out, his hand pulls her back in for a kiss. Once their lips touch, he looks at her once again.
“I love you.” He genuinely states as he watches her eyes melt in happiness.
“I love you too.” She smiles and kisses him once more. “Bye, Harry.” She hugs him across the platform and kisses his cheek too. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you more. Call me later tonight when you land yeh?”
“Okay.” She pouts. She had to catch a flight and be away from him for at least one more year.
“I love you okay, baby.” He kisses her forehead. “Bye.”
“Bye.” And with that, Y/N steps out of the car and watches him drive away. She has a plane to catch and he has some sheets to clean but that doesn't change the fact, they are finally together.
And everyone knows it.
Fini!
---------
Taglist: @f-flourishing , @nataliedahlia , @florenceskies , @much-love-tay , @goldenxstyles7 , @sixwyrxstuff , @y0uresogolden , @gucciantidote , @kikisparadise18 , @muffpuff23 , @stylessugarhigh , @f-vasquezp , @alwaysclassyeagle
#harry styles angst#jealous!Harry#Harry Styles#harry styles smut#harry styles one direction#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles stories#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurbs#harry styles one shots#one direction fanfic#one direction one shots#one direction imagines#harry styles imagines#Harry styles fluff#frat boy!harry#solo harry
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Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (chapter 10 - FINALE)
series masterlist
series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind. you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.
word count: 6k
warnings: implied smut, angst, fluff, romcom tropes, lots of swearing, pregnancy mention/minor breeding kink
note: click the asterisk for a hyperlink to a translation when the time comes
Six months later...
“It’s good!” she beamed, setting down the last chunk of pages and taking off her reading glasses. “Oh man, that ending hurt, but it’s really, really good!”
You leaned back into the plush chair and sighed with relief. “You think so?”
“It’s best-seller material,” she assured. “With some editing, of course. God, I can’t believe you were sitting on this for so long.”
“What are the biggest changes you want to make?” you asked.
“Well, I’m thinking we’ll cut the romantic subplot,” she mentioned in passing, like it was no big deal. “It’s distracting.
“Distracing?” you repeated. “Nia, it’s the story. It’s a romance.”
“I thought it was a thriller,” she frowned.
“A romance disguised as a thriller,” you corrected.
“Listen, I get what you mean, but I didn’t get this—” she tapped the nameplate on her desk: ‘NIA BROWN, HEAD PUBLISHER’ in shiny letters— “for nothing. I know what I’m talking about, and I know what your readers want. Violence, gore, drama!”
“It has all that!” you defended. “But it’s all there to talk about the real love he finds in her!”
“What do you mean ‘real love’?” she pressed flatly.
“I mean…” you pondered. “I mean love where you feel like a version of yourself that you actually like. Love where you feel unjudged, no precedents or caveats or back-up plans. Love that fucking hurts because you never wanted to rely on anything or anybody. Love that lives in silence because you don’t even need words.”
She furrowed her brow. “That… sounds nice, I guess, but I don’t think anybody really has that. Everybody needs a back-up plan. Everybody needs words— a writer should know that.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god,” you groaned, your face falling into your hands. “I’m so fucking stupid. Jesus Christ, I’m a moron.”
“What? What’s going on?”
“I had that! I had that, and I let it go! I’m the dumbest bitch on the fucking face of the Earth.”
“Don’t say that,” she soothed, but you were already standing up.
“No, I need to find him,” you decided as you grabbed your coat and briefcase. “I need to go back and try to fix this. I love him, I’ve never— I didn’t know I could love like that, I didn’t know I could be loved like that… oh my god, I need to find him. It isn’t over.”
“It isn’t over?” she repeated incredulously. “You said Michael signed the papers!”
“It’s not Michael,” you rolled your eyes as you stormed out of the office. “It was never Michael.”
You ran into the first telephone box you could find, slamming the door shut as you searched your purse for the business card that probably wasn't even in there.
After a moment, you gasped with delight when you pulled it from a very bottom pocket and began punching in the number as fast as possible with shivering hands, long-distance charges be damned.
“Hello?” the confused voice on the other end answered.
“Mrs. Alberti, hi— does Sebastian still work for you?” you asked hastily.
“No, dear," she sighed, apparently recognizing you by just your voice (and likely your request), "he quit recently, and moved away.”
“Moved?" you repeated with a wrinkled brow. "Where?!”
“I assume back home, sweetheart; to Bucharest.”
“Shit,” you sighed. “Shit!”
“Are you having your ‘run through the airport’ moment, sweetheart?” she realized.
“Yes, I think so— do you have his address?”
“Well, no, but I’ll see what I can find.”
You waited rather impatiently as she shuffled through papers in the background, mumbling to herself as she apparently searched for information that could help you.
“All I’ve got is the address of a previous employer… a carpenter,” she finally explained, breaking the silence. “It was his only reference when he came to work here," she explained.
"Wow, you really did just hire him for his looks," you blurted out.
"He was desperate for work, that boy had nowhere else to go,” she defended.
“Right, well, I guess if that’s my only lead then I’ve gotta go for it,” you decided. “Thank you, Mrs. Alberti.”
“I told you to call me when that book was a hit. Did it happen yet?” she piped up.
“It’s not published yet,” you explained. “It needs some more work… but I think it’s almost ready.”
“I think so, too, dear.”
Learn Romanian in 10 Weeks! A practical language guide.
Week 1, Day 1: Greetings
Hello Salut
Goodbye La revedere
Thank you Mulțumesc
You’re welcome Cu plăcere
Good morning Bună dimineata
Good afternoon Bună ziua
Good evening Bună seara
Good night Noapte bună
You brushed your hair back out of your face with a sigh, turning the page as you mumbled the phrases to yourself. Broken Hungarian and your high school education in Latin were not getting you as far with this as you had been hoping.
How are you? Ce mai faci
I love you Te iubesc
“Te iubesc, te iubesc, te iubesc,” you repeated over and over in a whisper.
Each day you had a new routine: practice Romanian for an hour, check flight prices online (or call the airline), research what you knew about Sebastian and the address Mrs. Alberti had given you, and then get back to practicing Romanian again.
Oh, and occasionally you worked on the edits Nia wanted for your manuscript. You were focusing on the minor changes— grammar errors, rearranging sentences— and putting off her big request for the removal and replacement of the romantic aspects. More than ever, they seemed like the most important thing the book had to offer.
You had a small apartment, just a place to sleep and shower really; much too small to fit everything you’d already taken from Michael’s house (you know, the one that used to be your house) along with what he’d shipped to you that you forgot before. He included a letter in the package as well. You threw it out, unopened.
Truthfully, you never really fully unpacked. As much as you realized you probably should, in order to really feel like you had a real home, you couldn’t bring yourself to empty your suitcases when you knew you’d be packing them again any day now.
You also realized how outrageous this all was. Ignoring the unlikelihood of even finding him in the first place, Sebastian probably wouldn’t want anything to do with you after you broke his heart, left, and then randomly tracked him down after over half a year. But to be totally transparent, you weren’t really doing this to get him back, necessarily. You knew that was probably never going to happen. You were doing this because you needed to try. You needed to go there, and get hurt, and come back knowing you did everything you could: you’d never be able to live with yourself if you did anything less than that.
You couldn’t start your new life until you had put everything else to bed. And if that meant being 100%, painfully certain that you and Sebastian could never be together, then that was just how it needed to be.
After two weeks of looking, there still weren’t any reasonable flights to Bucharest, so you booked another trip by train, figuring you could use the three day trip to brush up on the key Romanian phrases you were going to need as well as prepare your speech.
Yes, your plan was a speech. You didn’t have a back-up plan. You didn’t even have a return ticket back to London yet.
A passage by Yeats came to mind; But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.
In all your life, you’d never understood before why someone would want to only have their dreams. But now, here you were… and yes, it felt terrifying and vulnerable and uncomfortably naked, but it felt pretty damn good, too.
With a sigh, you scribbled out the last sentence you’d written, tossing the trash paper aside. You looked up out the window at the scenery flying by in a blur, worried that if you didn’t look out from the train every once in a while you’d get motion sickness.
The sun was beginning to set already, the green of hills and trees tinted orange. You only indulged in it for a moment, though, before getting back to this god-forsaken speech you were deadset on finishing before you arrived in Bucharest tomorrow. At first, you’d figured the translating would be the most difficult part… but writing in English wasn’t exactly a piece of cake, either. You had so much to say, and suddenly so few words for any of it.
You’d probably done more editing on this than any of your novels combined; the crumpled up pages spilling out of your wastebasket were proof enough of that.
“And I’m a fucking writer!” you groaned aloud, to no one in particular. “How is anybody else supposed to be able to do this, if I can’t?”
Other people aren’t as emotionally constipated as you, the voice of your inner critic reminded you plainly, making you roll your eyes at yourself.
A rap at your door made you sit up straighter and turn around. A stewardess slid open the frosted glass slightly to give you a friendly smile. “Is everything alright, ma’am?”
Your brows furrowed at the sound of her accent. “Is that a Romanian accent?” you asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded.
“So you’re fluent in Romanian and English,” you concluded.
“And Portuguese, yes ma’am,” she agreed.
“Could you come in here for a moment and help me translate something?”
She seemed slightly confused at the request but stepped forward, sliding the door most of the way shut behind her. Leaning beside you on the desk, she picked up your handwritten letter and blinked her wide, brown eyes a few times. You felt slightly embarrassed knowing she was reading such intimate thoughts, but that was how it felt the first time someone read anything you wrote so you were pretty much used to it by now.
“I usually ask the passengers what brings them to Bucharest,” she mumbled after a moment. “This is the most interesting thing so far. Am I reading this correctly, that you intend to confess your love to someone you met—” she scanned the page quickly— “during a vacation in Hungary?”
“Yup,” you smiled awkwardly, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word.
“And he doesn’t speak English?” she assumed; you nodded. “And… you don’t speak Romanian?”
You nodded again, and she breathed in and out quickly, sitting beside you as she stared at the letter.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she explained.
“Sorry for sucking you into the entropic vortex that is my life,” you chuckled.
“I don’t mean to pry,” she sighed, setting the letter down, and you laughed a little internally at the idea that she was worried about prying when she just read the most personal piece of writing you’d ever put to the page, “but do you think this is… enough? I mean, to build a relationship on?”
You just gave her a shrug. “I have no idea. But, you know, I spent my whole life worrying about stuff like that. I dated my husband for seven years before we got married, because I wanted to be sure. I was initially interested in him because he was successful and ambitious, and it made me feel like this was a really secure relationship that I could rely on. I double majored in English and Computer Science because I wanted a more stable career to fall back on in case being a writer didn’t work out, and even though it did, I’ve spent most of my career publishing what I thought people wanted to read instead of what I wanted to write, so I’d have a better shot at a good paycheck. I grew up thinking the best thing I could ever have was security. And now I’m divorced, watching my royalties shrink every month, more insecure in every way than I’ve ever been, and I’m realizing that the choices I made didn’t give me what I wanted. I gave up so much in the name of safety, and I let the one good thing I’d ever found go, so I could go back to being the same person I always was. I’m ready to settle again, if this doesn’t work… I’m ready to accept that this is just the way life goes, and be thankful that I got a taste of the kind of stuff I thought only existed in the sort of books I’d read but never write.”
She swallowed as she looked at you, and you felt your eyes water as you stared out the window towards the dimming scenery one more time, smiling at the sight of a distant village, a church with a steeple, vineyards and farms. Someone’s whole life is in that little town, you imagined, and they’re just watching your train go by like they see every other day.
“Sebastian gave me more security than I’d ever had before, even though the whole thing was such a ridiculous little whirlwind, and nothing like I ever imagined my life could be. But he made me want to be honest and raw and write sappy letters like the one you just read. He doesn’t have any money, at least as far as I know, and I haven’t known him for seven years, and on paper it makes no sense… but you would understand if you knew him. If you felt that joy that he radiates, if you saw him live his simple little life like it’s the best thing in the world. You would understand if you knew how much I needed this. You would understand if you had been just as miserable being who I’ve been for so long, and finally had a chance to be somebody you think you were maybe meant to be the whole time. So, if I never see him again, I hope I just get to thank him.”
You waited for her to say something, but furrowed your brow at the long moment of silence, looking back from the window finally and finding her staring at you with a tear running down her cheek. When you met her gaze, she quickly wiped it away with a sniffle and looked down at your desk again. “Let’s get to translating, shall we?” she announced with a half-smile.
You noticed the way the other passengers looked at you as everyone was in line to deboard from the train car; you stuck out like a sore thumb, since everybody else was carrying heavy luggage and all you had was a backpack.
In your defense, you really had no idea how to pack for a trip where you knew neither the duration nor the true final destination. So, it was mainly filled with your essentials, a few clothes for any kind of weather, and enough leu to buy anything else you needed along the way.
The stewardess was waving goodbye to everyone as they shuffled out into the train station, occasionally stopping to shake a hand or give directions to nearby destinations. When you were just about to pass by, though, she pulled you into a tight hug.
“Good luck,” she whispered, holding you just a moment too long before pulling back and giving you an encouraging look. “If he doesn’t take you back, feel free to blame my translation… because if he knows what’s in your heart, I know he’ll say yes.”
“Yeah, that’s the hard part isn’t it?” you laughed weakly. “Thank you for your help. I guess if I come back alone for the return trip tonight, you’ll know how bad it went.”
“Then I hope I don’t see you again,” she winked.
It being a major train station and all, cabs were waiting around every corner so it was pretty easy to grab one and give them the address you already had written down for this exact purpose.
“This is pretty far,” the driver explained, “on the edge of town. Not a tourist spot.”
“Good, because I’m not a tourist,” you nodded, already only giving him half your attention as you pulled out the translated speech to practice.
“And you can afford this?” he pressed. You sighed and dug through your bag, pulling out a haphazard stack of bills and handing them through the plastic partition.
“Is this enough?” you asked, and he didn’t answer, just taking the money and starting the car as you smiled and leaned back in your seat.
As much as you had tried to convince yourself to not get your hopes up, the butterflies in your stomach felt more like whole birds at this point, demanding to break free as you practiced the words hand-written on the page over and over again, committing it all to memory.
“What are you reading?” the cab driver asked after several minutes.
“Oh, nothing,” you mumbled, “sorry if I’m bothering you, you can turn on the radio.”
“No, it’s not bothering me, but what you are saying… it’s very odd. It sounds like something from a play, or movie,” he explained.
“Um, it’s not,” you replied, a little embarrassed. “But does it sound like it’s from a good movie? Like, if you heard a character say this to another character, would you think they should get together?”
“I… don’t know,” he answered, sounding confused. “I mean, it depends on what happened, right? How they met, how well they get along…”
So, you told him the whole story, as succinctly as possible (which is not very succinct at all). By the end, he was actually giving commentary as you spoke.
“Why the hell did you leave?” he interjected, clearly irritated with you. “You loved him!”
“Yeah, well, sometimes love isn’t enough! I loved my husband too, and look how that turned out,” you defended.
“But that’s different. That was love for all the wrong reasons.”
“I promise, it felt very real at the time,” you shrugged.
“And now?” he countered. “You realize that this man— Sebastian, right?— is real.”
“I hope I’m right this time,” you offered. “But even if I am, he may not agree.”
The driver scoffed, taking a hand off the wheel to wave dismissively. “If he’s anything like you said, then he will still be completely in love with you. After all, you still feel the same way after all this time apart, don’t you?”
“If anything, I love him more every day,” you admitted, your heart beating quickly just to say it aloud.
“You know, when I met my wife, she was engaged to another man. He was rich, good-looking, and he wasn’t even a bad guy unlike this husband you describe. He was a good man, but he wasn’t right for her. They were… content together, but she wasn’t truly happy. Every night I would come to her window and beg her to marry me, because I knew that she knew we were meant for each other, but she was scared because her family wouldn’t approve and she would be a poor man’s wife.”
“How did you convince her to marry you instead?” you asked eagerly, sucked into the story already.
“I didn’t. On the day of the wedding, some people told me to go and break it up but I didn’t. I thought it would be wrong, to try to ruin her happiness and take it for myself by making a scene at the wedding. I realized she was her own woman and if she wanted to choose him, I had to let her. I had locked myself in my house, not wanting to see anyone that day, and she appeared at my door. I didn’t need to convince her because she knew the truth in her heart, and called off the wedding herself.”
“Wow,” you smiled.
“She was still in her dress!” he recalled with a hearty laugh. “She looked like an angel. We were married just a few days later. And next month will be thirty years,” he added as he lifted his left hand to show the golden band on his finger.
“Thirty years, that’s… a long time,” you sighed.
“It wasn’t always easy,” he admitted. “But it was always worth it.”
Just as you wondered what you could possibly say to that, you felt the car slow down to a stop.
“This is the address you gave me, this is it,” he explained, pointing out his passenger-side window. You leaned up against the glass and gasped in dawning fear as you saw the storefront dark and empty inside.
“No, nonono,” you whispered rapidly to yourself as you swung open the door and hopped out, pressing your face against the glass to try to get a look inside and finding what was undeniably a closed carpentry business. There was a note on the door, taped on the inside of the glass, and you knew enough Romanian to know it said something about a vacation and three months.
“Shit!” you yelped, holding your face in your hands, wondering if your journey had come to an end before it really began.
“Are you alright?” the driver asked, rolling down his window to speak to you.
“This was my only lead, I don’t have his real address,” you explained. “He used to work here, I thought maybe someone would know him…”
He sighed, giving you a sympathetic look. “Get back in, we can search nearby. You came too far to give in yet.”
But getting back in the car felt like giving in, too, which you realized as you looked back at the note taped to the carpenter's door. This was the closest you'd gotten, and it felt wasteful to leave with nothing.
Just as you were ready to hop in the passenger seat and start searching aimlessly through suburban Bucharest, or maybe look around for a Romanian yellow pages, you heard a noise from behind you, across the street; a laugh. His laugh. But it couldn’t be because it was too good to be true… and yet you found yourself whipping your head around and hoping beyond all reason that it was Sebastian.
Across the street was a restaurant, with a large patio where patrons were dining and chatting as they sat at wrought iron tables, and your eyes searched the crowd for any signs of him.
And then your gaze landed on a head of thick brunette hair, red and gold highlights so obvious now when the sunlight hit it this way. Broad shoulders wrapped in a white button-up shirt. He was facing away from you but he was looking to the side so you could see his face; he was smiling, laughing at something someone had said. And it was his smile that you recognized; it was like everything else faded away, and in that moment you thought maybe you could almost be happy with just this, just seeing him be happy even if it had nothing to do with you.
“Sebastian,” you called out to him, but he didn’t react. “Sebastian!”
His whole body turned, his eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but let the tears well in your eyes as you ran across the road to him.
He looked, understandably, stunned, and you realized he was actually waiting on a table at the moment; he said something to them, apparently excusing himself, and stepped closer to you.
But he stopped walking, not coming any closer, not exactly dragging you into his arms like you might've preferred, but with a breath to try to soothe your racing mind, you summoned your memories of the practiced letter and began. *
“Când am venit în Ungaria…” you started slowly, doing your best to remember the words and hoping your pronunciation wasn’t too awful, “nu căutam dragoste. Căutam spațiu, claritate și poate o idee de carte de un milion de dolari. În schimb, am găsit tot ce am căutat toată viața mea…”
You did your best to bite back tears, especially when his expression was nearly unreadable and you had no idea how well this was going.
“Ești tu, Sebastian, bineînțeles că ești tu,” you sighed, laughing slightly. “Ai fost acolo pentru mine când nici nu știam ce vreau de la nimeni. Ai fost prietenul meu fără să spui vreodată un cuvânt - cel puțin nu un cuvânt pe care l-am înțeles. M-ai iubit și nu știam ce să fac cu asta, pentru că uitasem cu mult timp în urmă cum se simțea să fii iubit. Și ce simțeai să iubești cu adevărat pe cineva. Dar te iubesc. Și am fost prost să te las să pleci, atât de neconceput de prost. Vreau să fim noi, Sebastian. Lasă-mă să te iubesc, mai dă-mi o șansă și îți promit că nu te voi mai lăsa să pleci niciodată.
The first thing he said was your name, and just the way he said it made you fall in love with him all over again.
“I… I dream that you would come back,” he shakily replied. “But now I cannot believe. You are my dream.”
Tears were openly flowing at this point and you wanted to run into his arms, but you tried to stay calm and hear him out. He stepped closer, almost hesitant, like you would run away if he got too close too fast.
“I love you, very much that I am sure I am insane person,” he explained with a grin, and you giggled. “We will live anywhere, do anything you would like— be my wife.”
You gasped as he pulled you into him, gripping your arms tightly as his desperation became apparent.
“Marry me?” he asked softly.
“Da,” you nodded, “yes, of course, anything—”
He kissed you suddenly, but gently, and it said more than any words in any language could.
It was a small wedding, in the Hungarian countryside by the lake. You could remember diving into that lake for lost pages of your manuscript; you could remember looking out over the water and dreaming of this moment you were living right now, thinking it was impossible.
He didn’t have much family, but they welcomed you with open arms.
Your family, well, they were too busy with planning another wedding, for your ex-husband and your ex-sister. A few of them sent cards but the rest were suspiciously quiet. You honestly didn’t even notice… you had a new family to attend to, anyhow. And it wasn’t like you didn’t have any guests, since you were able to track down and invite a stewardess named Maria, and a cab driver named Andrei and his wife, Paola.
Sebastian’s cousins weaved flowers into your hair and his grandmother tailored her dress to fit you like a glove. A picture of his parents was hung nearby in tribute; he told you they would’ve wanted to see him get married but that he felt, in some way, they were able to even if they had passed away quite some time ago.
You realized you’d never seen him in anything even mildly formal before; in fact, the suit he wore was rather casual, all things considered, but he looked so painfully cute in it. Sometimes you thought he actually looked a bit out of place wearing a shirt, though, especially one that was buttoned up all the way.
Luckily, the shirt was halfway unbuttoned about ten minutes into the reception.
Mrs. Alberti cooked a massive dinner for everyone, and even grew the flowers that you carried down the cobblestone aisle.
And wow, can Romanians drink. You had to be careful not to try to keep up with them, because if you had you would’ve been blacked out halfway into the night and the last thing you wanted was to forget even a moment of this.
As the night started to wind down to a close, you and your new husband retired to the lakehouse, running up the stairs and finding them as creaky as always.
He wrapped his arms around you in the hall and kissed you eagerly as you stumbled back into the bedroom, tripping over the doorway and falling onto the bed together.
It felt so right to have his weight on top of you, to feel his smile against your lips, to wrap your arms around his neck.
“This room,” he mumbled into the kiss. “Do you remember first time?”
“Yes,” you nodded, “da, I remember, how could I forget?”
He grinned and moved his lips down to your neck. "I thought of you every day… I love you,” he whispered.
“Te iubesc,” you whispered back.
It was almost like the first time in so many ways: passionate, yet oddly hesitant as you rediscovered each other. It was comfortable, though… you couldn’t think of any other person you felt so comfortable with, somebody who finally got you out of your own head and who made you want to experience everything life had to offer.
You were sure you’d never gone so long without worrying about something in all your life.
“My wife,” he whispered against your skin. “This is all I had wanted… from seeing you in very beginning.”
“You’re all I ever wanted,” you sighed in return, “ești tot ce mi-am dorit vreodată, Sebastian.”
Life with Sebastian was beautifully simple. You spent most of the day writing, usually, while he built furniture to sell and occasionally gardened with his spare time. You could always tell how busy you’d been with a new novel lately by how perfectly groomed the hydrangea bushes were.
You’d told him once that you’d come to Hungary looking for a million-dollar book idea. A Killer in Disguise performed alright, but not anywhere near that. The Language of Love, on the other hand, was definitely a million-dollar idea… about eleven times over. Sebastian didn’t seem to worry too much about how much money you made, though; he was just proud to say that he was the inspiration for your hit novel. You secretly suspected that he was more proud of your work reaching enough international notoriety to be translated into Romanian.
His English still needed some work, but you found it endearing. He was determined to get better and spent at least a half-hour each day practicing, but you hoped he wouldn’t get too perfect because you would miss the silly little mistakes he made. At least you could be sure he’d keep the accent forever… damn, that accent; and he knew exactly what it did to you, too.
In fact, you were crossing through the hall in your robe one evening when your husband’s voice stopped you.
“Darling wife,” you heard Sebastian call from the bedroom in a playful sing-song.
“What is it, Seba?” you asked with a smirk.
“Come in here, please…”
You opened the bedroom door to find most of the room covered in rose petals: most of all the bed, which was surrounded by candles, and topped with a shirtless (as per usual) Sebastian, laid on his side seductively with a long-stemmed rose (one you recognized from his very own garden) between his teeth.
“What are you doing?” you laughed. “Is this some sort of special occasion I’ve forgotten?”
You were already searching your mind for what it could be, but your two-year anniversary had passed a few months ago already and since it was spring it couldn’t be the anniversary of when you first met since that was late in the summer.
“Iss not quite a thpecial occathion yeth,” he answered before taking the rose from his mouth so he actually made sense. “I was considering it could be a special occasion, when we’re done…”
You smirked and climbed over the candles and into bed with him, taking the opportunity to run your hands over his chest. “And what occasion would that be?”
“A year from now, it could be the anniversary of when our child was conceived,” he answered.
Your breath caught in your throat, your voice reduced to a whisper of surprise. “Seba—”
“If you’re not ready, I will be understand,” he instantly added, stern yet soft. “Only if you want this, I just thought that maybe—”
You silenced him with a kiss, lacing your fingers into his hair and letting him roll you onto your back. He pulled back just enough to let you answer, but your noses were still bumping into each other and you smiled.
“I’m ready, Sebastian. More than ready,” you whispered.
He grinned and kissed you again, deeper and slower as he held your face with one hand and gripped your waist with the other. As his lips trailed down to your neck, you were interrupted with one pressing thought.
“Can I ask you something?”
He popped up and looked down at you with a smile. “Sure!”
“Why are you wearing ratty old jeans?” you laughed.
“Hey, these worked on you the first time,” he defended.
You gasped. “You don’t mean those are the jeans—”
“Yes,” he nodded, “the jeans that I had been wearing when I was working on Mrs. Alberti’s cottage. And, truly, when I was finding an excuse to work outside your window.”
“Wait,” you sat up, “did you actually work outside my window on purpose?”
He laughed, hanging his head quickly before looking back at you again with a sparkle in his eye. “You are very smart, my love, except for those times when you are— how do you say? Oblivious.”
You chuckled, unfortunately very aware that he was right.
“Didn’t you ever wonder why I was building a window frame, nearly a dozen metres away from the window it was for?”
You thought for a moment before dropping your face into your hands and laughing. “No, I didn’t notice that. I was too busy giving you a thorough eye-fuck,” you recalled.
“Yes, because I was not wearing a shirt and this distracted you,” he pondered, sounding suddenly like a scientist explaining a theorem or something. “See, that’s the beauty of wearing the jeans and no shirt. The body distracts you while the jeans seduce you.”
“How about you take the jeans off and put that body on me, capisce?” you pleaded; not that you didn’t love his humor or anything, but maybe his funny bone wasn’t exactly the bone you were interested in at the moment.
He grinned devilishly and suddenly pulled your legs apart, settling his body between them as he kissed your neck again, nipping at your jawline and ear. “You’re being impatient, dragă,” he purred. “You want to have my baby that badly?”
You whined involuntarily, arching your back as his hands roamed your body and finally began to untie your robe and push the silk out of the way. “Yes, Sebastian, please—”
“Let’s just say, theoretically, I wanted to have more than one? Would you have another of my children?” he asked softly as he reached up and palmed at your breasts, teasing your nipples which were already much too hard and sensitive for how little he’d touched you. The rough denim rubbing against the inside of your thighs was oddly arousing— maybe it was the sensation itself, or maybe it was just that this was almost like the first thing you imagined when you saw Sebastian all those years ago.
“Yes,” you moaned out your answer, “yes, you know I’d do anything for you.”
“What if I wanted a big family?” he pressed. “Really big? Like, Catholic big?”
“We can have our own fuckin’ Brady Bunch, Seb, I just need you right now,” you begged, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a hot and desperate kiss.
He decided to wait until afterwards to ask what a ‘Brady Bunch’ was. You decided to wait until afterwards to ask when he’d learned how to use the word ‘theoretically’.
sfarsit; the end
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tainted kisses
summary: steve needs some relaxation, which you provide to him
warnings: smut (!!!!), praise kink, slight degradation kink, a little bit of angst cuz a hoe is sad, oral fixation (duh), slight dom/sub dynamics (?), mentions of sadness/depression, tiny mommy kink (like barely there)
pairing: steve rogers x reader
word count: 2.2k
note(s): not edited well at all, also i used a prompt generator to get the promt i used (which is below !!)
prompt: “baths or water (tubs or jacuzzis; hot springs; water houses or steam rooms; the ocean; swimming pools.”
kink: “Oral fixation or fetishization (lips, tongue, or whole mouth; french-kissing; licking; oral displays using food or beer bottles; smoking cigarettes, cigars, or pipes; biting or chewing one's lip(s))”
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***this is post-endgame except nobody died, cause im a hoe for all of the avengers***
Steve never realized how much he liked things in his mouth. Not always in a sexual way, at least not until after fighting Thanos.
After fighting for so long, bottling up his emotions was not at all how Steve needed to cope. He tried the yoga and meditation route Wanda had so kindly suggested. Yeah, after one session of hot yoga, Steve decided that it wasn't going to happen. Tony, obviously, suggested sex. Said something about it being a “healing experience for the soul”. That’s bullshit were Steve’s first thoughts when that came out of his mouth. Bucky told him to get some goats and raved about how therapeutic it was to raise them. But Steve could barely take care of himself, how would he even take care of a goat? Steve felt a hot sense of hopelessness burn against the back of his eyes as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, back pressed against the adjoined bathroom door.
“Steve?” A soft knock came from the front door. He took his thumb away from his mouth, he had resorted to subconsciously nibbling on the tip of it. Pulling himself off the door and towards the voice, he rubbed his tear-stricken cheeks in attempts to clean himself up a bit before seeing you.
“One sec, Y/N/N.”
When he opened the door, your face softened a bit before the smile that Steve, secretly, loved so much dropped off your face completely. “Stevie, what happened?”
Stevie, a nickname he hated for his entire life. A name that reminded him of the days before the super solider serum where he was a little guy getting beaten up on the streets of Brooklyn. Stevie, a nickname he loved hearing from your caring voice. Nobody else’s.
“Just tired, Y/N” he sighed, “so,so tired.”
“Stevie,” your voice caught at the back of your throat. Seeing him in so much pain made your life turn upside down. He doesn't deserve to be in pain. “ S’there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
“Just stay with me? Please?”
You took him back into his bed and sat with him, just talking about life until his breathing turned back to normal and he seemed partially-okay.
“Do you want to take a bath?” you asked, still stroking the blonde strands of his hair.
“Are you saying I smell?” He took his face out of the crook of your shoulder, feigning a look of hurt.
“No, punk, I meant to relax. You seemed pretty shaken up and I just wanted to help. I mean, that’s what I do when I feel down, relax in a bat-”
He cuts you off, “I appreciate it. Really, Y/N, I don’t know many people that are as loving and caring as you, sweetheart.” The nickname made a pang in your heart. You had like the super solider since you had met him, but never felt like he reciprocated the feelings. Even though you both cuddled often, and had movie nights, and he always let you beat him while sparring, and that one time you came down with a stomach bug and he fed you soup and-holy shit. Did Steve like you? “Sweetheart?”
“Huh?”
“I said, ‘A bath does sound nice’. What’s got you so suddenly zoned out?” He says, donning a smirk.
“It’s nothing. Let’s get you into that bath, mister,” you had a faux grumpy look on your face as you got up and walked to the bathroom, starting to fill the white, ceramic bathtub with warm water. “Okay, big boy. You need help getting up or are you okay?”
Rolling his eyes at your inauthentic tone, Steve pushes his tensed frame off the body and managed to stumble into the bathroom, while you following him closely to make sure he doesn't fall over from exhaustion.
“I get it, I’m old, but damn Y/N. I can walk perfectly fine,” He chuckles as he pushes himself up to sit on the counter top.
You start to fill up the bathtub with warm water, adding bubbles and lighting a few scented candles. He looked so pretty, hair sticking out in every direction, lips pink and puffy from biting them, his ocean blue eyes still misty as he looks down at his cuticles, picking them slightly.
“Okay, I’m gonna leave so you can take this bath,” you say, shutting off the faucet, “Got it?”
“Y/N?”
“Yes, Stevie.”
“Stay, please.” His eyes were watering more than earlier. He had those puppy dog eyes, lip quivering as his voice cracked and wavered even with just a few words. He looked so vulnerable, how could you say no to him?
“Of course, Steve. I mean, the bubbles with kind of cover everything. I’ll just sit next to the tub with you, alright?” You awkwardly giggled and scratched the back of your neck. He nodded, hopping off of the counter and starting to undress himself with a wobble. “Stevie, you’re shaking like a leaf, let me help you.”
His eyes never met yours as you helped him pull his t-shirt over his head and looped your delicate fingers through the waistband of his sweatpants, dragging them down his muscular thighs. “You’re not gonna finish your job, doll?”
His boxers. The only clothes he had left on were his grey boxers. You wanted to give him privacy and not look, especially in such a broken and vulnerable state. But god, you could see the outline of his partially-hard cock through the soft cotton. You thought about what it would be like to have your mouth around his hard length, chocking on it as he rammed himself into the back of your throat.
“Ummm, I just--I thought--I mean I can---Only if you want--” The dirty thoughts clouded your brain. It made speaking a speaking a sentence almost impossible as your mouth watered just thinking about his cock.
“It was a joke, sweetheart,” he laughed heartily, “You’re too adorable.”
Pulling his boxers down his legs, he waddled tiredly over to the tub before stepping in. He groaned in pleasure at the feeling of the warm water encapsulating his exhausted body. You imagined that’s how he’d groan if you sucked his cock so hard he was seeing stars.
You were still facing the door, like you were as Steve got completely undressed. You knew if you turned around and look at him, naked and at ease, you’d jump his bones in a heartbeat. “Come sit with me, Y/N”
And you did. You turned around cautiously, like you expected, the bubbles covered his body enough for you to be able to handle yourself as you sat down next to the tub. You grabbed his hand away from his lips, running your soft fingers over his rough calloused ones. “I always see you biting your nails or cuticle or lips or your pens. Why?”
He sighed, “I’m not sure, I guess it just distracts me?” He said it more like it was a question rather than a statement. “I guess I don’t truly know why I do it, I guess I just enjoy having things in my mouth.”
You could read Steve like a book, his pupils blown with lust, his lip stuck between his teeth, a blush heating up his cheeks. You took a leap of faith.
“Yeah, like what?”
“You.”
His lips were on yours in a flurry, it took a second for you to react, but as soon as you did it felt amazing. Neither of you seemed to care about the water splashing over you as his hands trailed up your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt.
He pulls away panting, “F-Fuck, Y/N, I need you. Please. Oh my god I need you so bad,” His eyes looked as if they were welling up with tears and he looked so pretty still in the relaxing bubble bath, whimpering and whining for you.
“God, I need you too, baby,” you stop to look in his eyes sincerely, “Are you sure you want this? I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want to do or that you will regret.” Your hand caresses his cheek.
“Just get in here with me and I’ll show you how much I want you,” he whispered, “Need you, really.”
You sighed before your hands moved shakily to take off your t shirt. As much as you wanted this, you were still scared of how the ripped super solider would feel about you and your body, As soon as your shirt was off, Steve was whimpering, dipping his hand into the soapy water to massage his aching cock. This only spurred you to take off your clothes and join him faster.
“Did I say you could touch yourself, puppy?” Your stern voice caught him off-guard, making him pause his actions with a look of fear on his face. You step into the bathtub, straddling him. Your nails raked up his milky white thighs, trailing up his body admiring the beauty of it. “Y’Know I was planning on being nice to you because you’ve been so good to me, but you might need to be punished, baby? Do you need to punshied like a brat?”
He mewled, bowing his head in shame. You could feel him growing harder and harder by the second and you were starting to go crazy with the empty feeling inside of you that on he could fill. “No, ma’am. I’ll be good, I swear!”
“Mmmm, that’s my good boy.” Your hands slid up his chest and rested on his cheeks, hearing him preen at your praise, as you repositioned yourself over his cock. “Are you sure you want this?”
“If you dont ride me into next week right fucking now I’m going to scream, Y/N,” He breathed out with a chuckle, Grabbing your thighs, he helps you sink down on his cock. Both of you were moaning and whimpering messes by the time you were sitting at this base of him, trying to get adjusted to his large size.
Hot tears burned at the back of his eyes as soon as you lifted yourself up off of him, only leaving the tip of him inside of you, and slamming back down on his dick.
“Baby-please,” he whimpered, “n-need, shit, need your fingers, bad.”
You were confused, slowing down a bit to make sure he was okay. But his puppy dog eyes showed that he was okay. Slowly taking your wrist from his cheek, he puts your fingers in his warm mouth. Moaning around them and swirling his tongue around them. He did it the same way you always dreamed about sucking his dick, chocking and gagging on his length.
“Yeah, you’re such a needy little slut for me, for this pussy. Look at you, so ruined and fucked out just because I’m fucking you.” He moaned sensually at your words making your core tighten impossibly.
You had gotten a good idea as you were riding him. Slowly, you start to thrust your hand in and out of his mouth, watching the saliva dribble out of the corners of his mouth as he choked on you. The band in your tummy starts tightening as you feel yourself getting close.
“Shit, fuck, baby, I’m gonna come. Oh my god, you’re make me come with your beautiful cock, puppy. So good for me, aren’t you?” Your free hand dips into the water, cupping his balls and rolling them around your soft palm.
He nods, choking on your nimble finger yet again his you massage his sensitive balls. “Gonna come,” he slurred and spit around you.\, “almost there.”
“I didn’t” you moaned as you feel his balls tighten, fall back down on his cock at a faster pace, “give you permission to do that. I thought you were going to be good for me?”
“I am” he spluttered loudly, “i am good, I swear. Just please let me come. I need it, oh shit, mommy.”
The name went straight to your core, making you grow weak as you feebly give him permission to come as you come undone with one more bounce on his large member. His hands come up to grope your breasts as he come with hot spurts inside of your tight cunt.
“Oh my god,” you stifle a giggle as you stand up on shaky legs. You wordlessly helped him out of the tub and wrapped him in a white towel, walking him to bed while you dried yourself off. Collapsing on the bed with a grunt, the solider hollds out his hand to you, signalling you to lay down with him. You could easily tell he was still coming down from his sex high, starting to regain his self back.
“I dont know what possessed me to,” he pauses, trying to figure out a way to word the rest of his sentence, “to suck, I guess, on your hand. I’m sorry, Y/N, that was really weird of me.”
“What do’ya mean, baby? Having an oral fixation isn’t something to be ashamed of.” The words make him smile with droopy eyes, tucking his head into your neck and starting to fall asleep, happy and comfortable, cuddling you.
“And to be honest, puppy. I think it’s really hot.”
#steve rogers#steve rogers smut#mcu#avengers smut#steve x reader#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers angst#steve rogers x oc#steve rogers fic#steve rogers drabble#steve rogers headcannon#smut#angst#fluff#the falcon and the winter solider spoilers#wtf even is this crackfic#i hate it but oh well
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technoblade speedrunning adopting ranboo (high school edition): the fanfic
also on ao3!
hey remember this post? well i got so attatched and impatient that i wrote over 1k words for a pilot type chapter for it <3
chapter one: officer in my defense i punched that guy because he deserves it
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Techno Blade-Minecraft would call himself smart. He got good grades without trying, learned second, then third languages with ease, read textbooks for fun, etcetera etcetera. Wisdom without experience was a rare thing to possess, especially in a high school senior but techno had it tight in his grasp, easily making him a ‘Model Student’. He understood he got unneeded attention from that, which sucked, but it was an easy trade-off to be the automatic teacher’s favourite.
But Techno was a man of wisdom, not a man of sense. So naturally, he remembered a fact about baby birds he learnt when he was six years old:
‘Classical "imprinting", as seen with for example, ducks or geese, means that the animal's instinctive programming says "the first big animal you see after hatching is your mom, follow them and look to her for food, warmth, love and learning’
Actually, Techno decided he was the man of Most Sense because at that very moment, the tallest, yet somehow weakest looking freshmen he’d ever seen was being cornered by a group of hefty looking seniors.
And the baby bird, with its innocent, scared eyes was looking right at him.
He looked around the hallway, a desperate scan for other students he could push his growing parental responsibility on to. It was a ghost town, as empty as the remakes of towns from the old west he saw on childhood school excursions.
‘Fuuuuuuuuuuck.’
Technoblade took a deep breath in through his nose, then released it out of his mouth like if he breathed hard enough, his empathy could be taken away with the non existent wind in the soul-crushing grey hallways. It obviously didn’t work because Jesus Christ that kid looked helpless.
As quickly as one could without compromising a freshmen’s still intact nose, Techno examined the seniors. They all wore the school football team’s letterman jacket (‘what is this, Heathers?’), a classic pointer for internalized insecurity, toxic masculinity and most importantly unrightfully self diagnosed Strong Guy syndrome, which meant that they definitely were only beating up a freshmen because that was the most they could actually fight. One point to Technoblade. They also were all at least a solid five inches shorter than him, which Techno would have laughed at if the situation wasn’t so dire. Point two for Technoblade.
Catching himself before letting his wandering mind think up a full five paragraph M.L.A sighted essay to why he could crush these nerds, he decided that two points was enough leverage to still crush these nerds, but with slightly less confidence.
With as much patience as he could, he slowly walked up to the group like a silent lion hunting his soon to be, very dead* (maybe not dead, *slightly bruised) prey. The baby bird, trapped in one of his prey’s chokehold, stared at him like he was a madman. Techno’s objective changed: knock out the dickhead choking a kid.
They stood in a corner, the choker in the middle, the other two blocking off the only escapes and laughing cruelly at the baby bird. Completely distracted.
Techno curled his fist, aiming to punch that asshole’s teeth in or at least break his nose. He starts to run, about five feet away from his target and oh god this is a terrible idea he does fencing not hand to ha-
BAM.
Choker’s nose made a resounding crack and fell back onto the jock on the left. Probably because it’d be ‘too gay’, or whatever, the guy sidesteps and lets a knocked out, nose broken, probably popular kid by comparing his ego to the size of his dick, fall onto the ground
The two awake bullies look between their knocked out friend, then at Techno, then at each other.
“MISS NIIIIHACHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!”
Techno knew they’d call a teacher because they’re cowards but really? Nihachu?
That lady is TERRIFYING what did he do to deserve this.
He let out a long, disappointed ‘bruh’ before with a jolt, remembering the whole reason he punched that jock in the first.
The child.
He doesn’t bother trying to pick up him up because holy hell he’s tall, but pulls one of the kid’s arms over his shoulder, and with his other arm holds their waist and sprints as fast as he can down the hall.
“What the…” murmurs the half dead lump on his back, and while Techno’s surprised his vocal chords aren’t dead? Not even a ‘thank you’? Techno thinks he should start doing charity work at this point.
He continues to run though, because he’s a generous soul, until slowing to open a door that opens the blinding sunlight of the free world outside their prison.
Despite himself, Techno lets his mouth slip into a big enough smile that actually shows his teeth because he just did that. His celebratory moment is cut off though, because the weight on his back suddenly felt even heavier and-
Oh my God the baby bird just fell asleep on me.
Am I a father now?
What do I tell Phil? Does this make him a grandfather?
I can’t just take him home.
What’s stopping you?
Oh my God, I’m a genius.
Techno may be a proclaimed genius, but he is not immune to the inherent propaganda of cute children, so he sets down the kid on the least grimey part of a battered metal bench to get his first proper look at the sleeping giant.
Apart from his injuries (a bleeding nose, bruises forming on his arms, a black eye and a red handprint on his neck) the kid looked… Weird. Techno had subconsciously noticed it while carrying him, but only now the complete oddity of him. His skin from the jaw down was a uniform, warm, dark brown, which was decidedly normal, but his face was… different. Not ugly, no, he looked average, if not perpetually awkward, even in his sleep. The right side of his face was a similar, if not slightly darker tone than the rest of his skin, but where it got weird weird was from the middle of his face and leftward, his face was pale. As pale as Techno, which is saying something because Techno himself has albinism; he has no melanin in his skin.
He found himself sympathizing for the kid again. Techno himself got bullied for his reddish eyes - a symptom of his albinism, and his naturally stark-white skin and hair. It got to the point that he dyed his hair pink, which decidedly made it worse because a guy dying his hair pink ? apparently high school treason to both students and the school rules. His bullies had a colourful range of insults, at least; Techno’s personal favourites being from after he died his hair: homophobic slurs. The teachers had constant complaints and even a couple suspensions, which didn’t stop Techno, obviously. What a wonder public school is.
So yes, Techno understood the baby bird, because despite Techno’s only weakness being himself (and apparently non-threatening freshmen?) as of now, it wasn’t like he came out of the womb a scary pink haired senior. He knew bullying like the hair dye aisle at his local department store.
He knew that helping the kid would make him more attached to the point of no return, but he’d accepted it. It felt like feeding a wild animal more food after making the mistake the first time, it’s not like it’ll get less annoying to have it following you around.
The moment Techno processed his own thought, his face blanched - somehow getting whiter despite literally being the textbook definition of a white boy.
He’d fallen into the ‘senior adopting a defenseless freshmen’ trap.
Shit.
Even more embarrassingly, this didn't deter Techno from pulling his first aid kit, for once his anxious over-packing doing some good.
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acording to tumblr statistics, only a small percentage of people who like the post actually reblog it. so if you liked it, give it a reblog! it takes five seconds and you can always delete the reblog later.
#mcyt#mcyt fanfic#mcyt au#technoblade#ranboo#nihachu#dream smp#mcytblr#sleepyblr#philza#homophobia tw#bullying tw#violence tw#minecraft youtubers#baby bird au
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