#found this in my drafts and spontaneously decided to finish it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fueledbysano · 2 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒.

♱ ft: Kakucho/Izana, Shuji Hanma, Ran/Rindou Haitani

♱ content/warnings: angst, cheating, alcohol consumption, unrequited love, second lead trope.

♱ a/n: so this has been in my wips since September. I have more characters in draft but I decided to post what I have finished bc I really miss putting out content here since I've been busy. enjoy 🤲

𝐊𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐎 — “I loved you first"

He was the man who had always been there for and with you; dating way back to your childhood.

Right from the moment Kakucho met you, he knew he had to cherish this girl as much as he can, and as long as he can, and he could never stop, not even for a second.

Every dumb banter you ever had, every Christmas mornings at five, every spontaneous Saturday afternoon, every speed bump, every pang of boredom and anxiety you ever experienced together—he carried that lesson with him.

and he carried that lesson with him when you married Izana.

As you bind the last of your vows to the silver-haired man before you, it was then that Kakucho realized that it didn't matter how much longer he's loved you; when fate put Izana in your life— in a marriage of convenience.

And most importantly, he carried that lesson with him when you started playing the martyr wife.

It was too good to be true— to have a man of status, attractive looks, and fascinating aura as your husband and all to yourself.

So it didn't shock you in the least when you discovered lipstick stains on his shirt that weren't yours, with a faint scent of a cheap perfume you don't bother spending your money on.

“He’ll change.” “Maybe, he isn’t used to marriage yet.” — were just one of the many things you told yourself into thinking that there is still hope for your marriage.

Kakucho finds it heartbreaking to see you act the part, and though he's never confronted you directly about it, he makes every effort to support you—something your own husband couldn't even do. and to witness you fall just as deeply in love with someone else as he did with you.

Because sometimes love means taking a step back. If you care about somebody, you should want them to be happy even if you wind up being left out.

One evening, when Izana had another not-so-secret meeting with his mistress, you stayed in while sipping wine and reading passages from a book of melancholy poetry. The wine had started to fuel the voices in your head and the lines began to hit a little too hard that you didn't realize the tears streaming from your eyes.

It was routine at this point; to cry yourself to sleep, wishing that the only man you wanted felt the same way.

However, you also failed to recognize the man who genuinely expressed his intents and feelings to you; who happened to pay you a visit at this particular moment.

Kakucho also noticed the fresh tears you've been shedding while you were asleep on the couch in the living room with the book held loosely in your hand.

Even if you haven't spoken yet, he already knew what's been upsetting you. So with a bitter sigh, he took the book from your hand before returning it to it's rightful spot on the bookshelf, and then sprawling a blanket over your body, fixing your frame into a more comfortable position before cleaning up the dishes you'd left on the table.

It really didn't matter that he'd loved you for years, because to be in love with someone half as in love with you is a cruel curse, and the fact that you too get to feel that way makes Kakucho's heart hurt even more.

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀 — “Choose me.”

He was the one who said that he didn’t care about the ring on your finger; that this was merely an affair by sinful adulterers.

Your coincidental meeting at a bar led to a one-night stand which caused more than a little bit of friction when you came in as the new Toman executive and his colleague the very next day.

He then received the second dose of shock when he found out that you were, in fact, married, as your husband paid you a visit at the headquarters one day in a bid to resolve your tumultuous marriage

At first, you didn't comprehend the tinge of concern in your heart as you glanced over your husband's shoulder to meet the eyes of your secret lover. Will it be over for good?

Once your husband has gone off to your home, waiting for your return, Hanma finds himself locked inside your office, as if your man hadn’t just been in it minutes ago. “There’s my favorite adulterous whore.” He smirked, making himself comfortable on your seat as you were noticeably leaning against the tall windows in distress.

“This is just… great.” You sighed heavily, reaching to your drawer for a smoke. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” Before you could even reach the handle, Hanma had already pulled you onto his lap in a firm grip. With sorry eyes, you smooth his chest and tugged on his collar softly, “I’m… married.”

With one push of his knees, your body fell onto his, letting his sinful lips lap on the cleavage exposed by your low neckline dress, “This— is wrong.” you gasped out, clutching onto his suit.

“Then tell me to stop, and I will.” He insists, but you were already too deep into his touch, and instead, your hands finds themselves discarding the buttons of his suit which landed you getting bent over on your own desk, at the end of the day, mutually claiming that it’s just sex.

But what you both didn't realize at that time is when your regular affair grew into taking on missions together, having dinner at unreasonable hours, and attending lavish events with each other.

Hanma is still clueless of what your marriage looked like, and he refuses to know. He was the other man, but he didn't feel like one. How could he when you constantly allowed yourself to be drawn into his antics and gave him your undivided attention?

That's why he started to worry when he noticed the crack in the glass— you have been staying home longer than usual, wearing your wedding band more frequently, then eventually having your husband fetch you at work.

And he finally gets the chance, in his car after a successful mission, your phone rang and displayed your husband's name on it, but instead of picking right up, you sent him a glance, a rather inquisitive one. “Okay, here it goes—” and with his words, the car brakes all at once.

“Your choice, it’s simple— him, or me. And I’m sure that he’s great, but, [ Y / N ], I love you.” And that was then you realized that it had already become more than a casual affair.

At the end of the day, Hanma only wishes that he is the first star you'll be gazing at when the night falls.

𝐑𝐀𝐍 — “What does he have that I don't?”

He was used to working towards everything he’s ever had. However, he’s envious of how Rindou easily had you under his touch. It’s a pity— how worthless all his efforts turned out when you fell right into his little brothers’ arms. Maybe, it was a “youngest sibling” thing; to be able to get anything they want at will.

He was never selfish with Rindou… But couldn't he be even just for once— with you?

“Hi, I’m glad you could be here…” Your embrace was the perfect Christmas present to him as he welcomed you into their home. This Christmas Eve, your gifts to each other is the precious time, the thought you put into it as you spend it together. So other than the wrapped chocolates and gifts beneath the tree, your Christmas didn't come from a store... and, you know what? It really did mean so much for Ran.

He appreciates your company, hell, even just your presence— to be with him and Rindou on aimlessly planned days, to the ones that matter most. And even if you hadn’t realized it yet, he wished you could give him the same attention you do with Rindou.

“Where’s Rin?” You question as he serves you a hot cup of cocoa, and he could feel his heart aching for a second. “He got some ice. He’ll be back soon.” He flashed a smile and offered you his company on the couch.

He wanted to be jealous of Rindou, but at the end of the day, he knows that the choice is all yours to make, and that harboring resentment toward his brother is the last thing he would do in this world.

He was savoring the remaining time he had to himself with you, listening intently to every word you beautifully spoke and cracking up at your jokes. But when Rindou comes back, he notices how your eyes shine.

That glimmer of admiration— something he looks for but never finds until the younger brother is around.

Being drunk switches off the best parts of your brain and leaves the fool to run your life, to run your mouth. But for Ran, it silenced the longing in his heart that you aren’t his to love.

It takes a lot of condensed pain to produce each drunk, and so to look out there and see the storm clouds is enough to break both soul and heart.

And as he returns after the fourth refill, he finds you and Rindou passed out on each other on the couch, with his face snuggled up to yours that flashed a faint smile. So with a bittersweet smile, he pulls the neighboring blanket over your bodies, and tuck your hair away.

Ran thought his heart would break seeing her love someone who is not him; although it did for a moment, he slowly felt full of life upon seeing the two most important people in his life finally get together.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #kakucho x reader #ran x reader #hanma x reader #shuji hanma x reader #ran haitani x reader #hanma x reader smut #angst #tokyo revengers headcanons #izana x reader #rindou x reader

570 notes · View notes

jon-withnoh · 1 year ago

Text

She’s Invincible

I found this in my drafts and spontaneously decided to finish it on my train journey today. It’s set on the first morning after Rebecca’s death.

The house was coming to life around her. Mrs Danvers heard the parlour maids on the stairs, their buckets clattering as they hurried upstairs to sweep the fireplaces. The kitchen maids were laying the table in the servants’ hall. She could hear them putting down the silverware, the sound of metal on metal impossibly shrill in her ears. She had been sitting up all night, hands folded in her lap, waiting for any sound that her lady might have returned from her outing. Her Rebecca. She had seemed upset returning from London, pulled taught like a bowstring. The muscles in her shoulders had been so tense she had slumped in front of the vanity, swatting at Mrs Danvers’ hands when she offered to massage them.

“I’m just tired from the drive, Danny, don’t fuss,” Rebecca had snapped, allowing Mrs Danvers to brush out her hair before jumping up again. “I need some air. Don’t wait up.”

The clock in the servants’ hall struck seven. Mrs Danvers rose from her chair. She held herself perfectly upright, noticing for the first time the ache in her lower back. She took a hand mirror out of a drawer in her writing desk and inspected her reflection. A thin strand of hair had fallen from the bun at the nape of the neck. Automatically, she raised her hand and caught the wisp of hair, returning it to its proper place. She put the mirror away. For a moment, she simply stood facing the door. Rebecca had not come home. She could not feel her face. She had the urge to take out the mirror again, to make sure her mask was still in place. Rebecca relied on her restraint, her discretion.

Some of the younger staff were already in the servants’ hall, crowding near the door. They were whispering about something, tones ranging from excitement to concern.

“She went out and didn’t come back,” one of the maids said. “Her bed was untouched.”

“I heard she went sailing,” the footman chimed in. “But her boat is still missing. They say she must have drowned.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Robert,” Mrs Danvers said.

They all wheeled around when they heard her, shrinking into themselves as she made her way to her seat near the head of the table.

“You should not be spreading such ridiculous rumours.” Her voice was not as sharp as it should have been. She pressed her lips together.

“It’s not a rumour!” the boy protested. “Mr Frith said —”

“Enough.”

One word was enough to make them scatter. Robert went so far as to flee the room. The maids merely fell silent, bowing their heads as they took their places at the table. She surveyed them, feeling her own worry ebb and flow inside her. What had Frith said? Why had he not come to find her before news reached the staff?

“Mrs Danvers.” Frith stood in the doorway, looking almost as tired as she felt. He jerked his head in the direction of her parlour. She understood at once.

Frith closed the door behind them, hesitating before he turned to face her. This was most unlike him. She stood in the middle of the room, hands firmly clasped in front of her. Restraint, she reminded herself. Discretion.

“Mrs Danvers.” Frith had adopted the same posture as her, his shoulders stiff and his hands folded in front of him. “I am afraid Robert was telling the truth.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know that Mrs de Winter left the house late last night?” he asked.

She nodded. She had tried to dissuade Rebecca from going out again. Rebecca had seemed to tired, so unsettled. Mrs Danvers had tried to reason with her, going almost as far as to plead.

“Stop it, Danny, you’re smothering me. You have no right to tell me what to do, so shut up, or go pack your bags.”

She had had no choice but to let her go. It had not been the first time Rebecca had threatened to fire her, nor would it be the last. She was not worried about that at all. She was only worried for Rebecca.

Frith cleared his throat. “Mrs Danvers, I am afraid Mrs de Winter did not return from her sailing expedition. There is no trace of either her or her boat. We have no choice but to believe that she is dead.”

Dead.

It made no sense. It had been squally last night, yes. She had been worried. But Rebecca had proved a hundred times that no storm or unexpected current could get the better of her. She was invincible.

Read More on Ao3

#rebecca das musical #my fic #mrs danvers #danbecca #sie ergibt sich nicht #grief

14 notes · View notes

linaket · 2 years ago

Text

Weekly Writing Check-In (2/12/23)

Tinder Saint Progress: * 6 of 15 chapters complete. * word count: 18k (projected: 40k)

An excerpt, with some lore building.

“Rashad wasn’t completely wrong. Almost every Ilazkin text had some story or another in it, but there’s layers. The story of Shahsu and Maran is about parts being separated, and bringing them back together. Under it is the construct of the soul.”

He knelt at the center of the room, and was rewarded by the symbol he was looking for. He brushed his hand over it, feeling the raised edges around it. “This one is the whole.” He waved Jinan over. “Wait here.”

“The soul?” Sita asked.

Once Vahn saw the path, it was easy to follow. “The soul wasn’t a single thing to the ancients. It had parts.” He found a second panel on the opposite wall. “This one is self. Suad?”

They approached, wary but grudgingly willing. “Is there more?”

“One more.”

Vahn crossed the room to the panel that Rashad had originally found. With the flames illuminating it at the right angle, it was exactly as it had been before.

“What’s that?” Suad asked.

Vahn smiled to himself. He remembered the light slanting through the windows and how the shadows darkened the annoyed knit of Kanna’s brow. “She couldn’t really figure out what to call it.” He tilted his head to the side, studying the lines. “I guess ‘gift’ is pretty close. But…”

“What would you call it?” Sita prompted.

Vahn had almost forgotten she was there. “Instinct might be closer.”

🎵 A Shell In The Pit's Rings in Rings in Rings

Thoughts:

This week I managed to be more productive than I have been in recent times, finishing a full chapter. It's only about 3k, but that's a good bit for me since I fell out of my regular daily writing habit last year. It felt really good to write, even if it wasn't my favorite scene and once again suffered from "why do I have so many characters doing so many things always all the time."

It did give me a bit of hope, though. I'm aiming now to try and finish a chapter a week. It might be a bit lofty in my current state, but I want to re-establish a writing routine again. I've missed it, and I need it.

Tinder Saint has been going a bit... oddly, in comparison to my usual way of going about things. Because I had been feeling so low about my writing, I had spent months spinning my wheels and getting nowhere, until I decided "fuck it" and just. Banged out an entire scene draft for the whole story in a few days. But when I did that, it helped me to see things much clearer, and I was able to get excited about the project again. I always avoided doing this because I thought it ruined part of the fun/spontaneity of writing, but it... didn't do that for me. I know what is going on and what happens, and now I can't wait to make it pretty and make it hurt.

I have been skipping a few chapters / scenes that I simply. Didn't feel like writing. And I am typically a very chronological writer. Even now, it's nagging me that I skipped some things. And because of it, I have about two or three chapters that are sitting half finished. I'm thinking I may spend this next week going back to some of those skipped scenes since I have a better idea of what I need in them and I'm feeling a tad more confident in myself since I was able to get some good writing sessions in.

#writing updates #TSetc #Spotify

7 notes · View notes

han-the-vampiricyoshi · 2 years ago

Note

👀

send me a 👀 and i’ll post a snippet of art/writing that i never got around to finishing this year (r.i.p)

This is pretty much word for word what I've got in my first drafts rn. Very little thought other than 'spontaneity' went into this XD Wil is kind of fun to write in a weird way.

Context: post- In Space With Markiplier interaction between the Captain and Wilford Warfstache.

Wil was a dangerous man. They weren't sure how exactly they were sure of that, but an entity that could collapse a wormhole rift with a stinking butterfly knife, only to be able to summon another one moments after, was clearly capable of great and terrible things. Then there was the whole demanding persona; the veiled threats, and the pointing-the-wormhole-killing-knife-in-your-face thing. Wilford being here put them on-edge, concerned for their safety and existence.

"Hey now, there's no need to be so harsh!" Wilford suddenly exclaimed. "I'm a professional journalist, and perhaps a little anal over things like scheduling and keeping my appointments with interviewees. Do you know how many times I've gotten rain checks for an interview, only for someone like you to give out excuses? And that's not to mention when a subject decides to spontaneously die during, or when the staff has similar setbacks. It's hard work! You can't blame me for being a bit testy!"

The Captain stared at him, wide-eyed. What the @%*#??

"Hey now, language!" Wil chided. "We're having a f***ing adult conversation here."

But the Captain hadn't said anything!! They had been too scared to talk. Had he been in their head this whole time??

"Well, it's not like it's all that difficult," Wil scoffed. "You're especially loud. Your thoughts are written here, plain as day for anyone with a little too much time on their hands to peruse."

So what - he could read them like a book?

"Well, more like an online text blog of some weary writer who's sat on this prose for months on end," Wilford drawled. "More easily transmissible, unfortunately, but extremely legible. This bit wasn't exactly how the original text was meant to go, however..."

The Captain squirmed, wanting desperately to get away. It was so weird and creepy, and they really needed him out of their head!

"Whoa now, didn't you hear me -- you're the one being loud!" the pink man accused. "Not even Glocky-Boo is as loud as you have been. And she is especially well-mannered, for a gun." He reached out to pluck a pineapple toothpick from the edible arrangement and popped it in his mouth, making exaggerated chewing noises and motions.

Was he seriously eating on the Captain's glass coffin like they were some kind of table??

"There's no need to sound so offended about it, whatever-your-name-is," Wil retorted with a huff. "This isn't even the fun way of eating off you. Perhaps another time," he whispered with an obnoxious wink. "And it's not like you can eat it as you are, so why let it go to waste?"

They never asked him to come here or to bring him some kind of fruit art piece.

Wilford sighed. "Now is that any way to treat someone who was nice enough to visit you in your memorial and bring a little offering to your health? Or... not-health. Depends when you are, I suppose. What is this place? Is it a shrine or something? An alter? Do you make sacrifices here? Are you the sacrifice? Ooh - it's been so long since I've participated ina good sacrifice!"

He suddenly shoved a strawberry into his mouth and started to pat himself down with both hands.

"Hold on! I have just the thing for this!" Wil explained excitedly. "I found this baby for sale in a booth at a Dagonic rally and I have been practically dying to break it out!"

From seemingly nowhere, Wilford pulled out a large and jagged black knife. He wielded it over his head, looking down toward the Captain with a wild look in his eye. Strawberry juice clung to his lips and the edges of his mustache, his teeth showing with a gleeful grin.

(it doesn't end there, but you get the idea... >w> Got like four chapters of this thing with at least two more planned... and unwritten.)

#markiplier #iswm #in space with markiplier #captain iswm #wilford warfstache #my writing #thanks for the ask XD

8 notes · View notes

kin-n-n · 2 years ago

Text

Look who's crawling out of their blanket cave of misery! Thanks for the tag @busymagpie, let it be stated that I rarely do any of these because I rarely get any and if I do I start but don't finish them and they end up rotting away in my drafts...so congrats, I guess?

3 Ships:

Oh man this is so hard for a multifandom enjoyer of any kind of ships there are too many, how dare you make me try and cram the multitude of joy bringing character dynamics I have into just three single ships!? What I can say is I'm in my gen ship era so predominantly batfam (especially Dick and Jason, Tim and Jason and just Bruce being a good Dad) Then there's the qpr of the core4 teen titan members because they make me melt into a happy puddle of warmth.

I also got dragged into the Hell that is the Call Of Duty fandom because my brain decided that was a good idea?! And I have an especially soft spot for Rudy/Alejandro

First Ship:

Okay, so this is going to be a very obscure one that no one knows and I'm not sure if I was actually actively shipping them because this was the first Anime I watched way back when and I just thought they were neat but it's the big brother character and his roommate I believe(it's been so long even I can't really remember) from Cheeky Vampire.

Last Song:

Waltz No. 1, Collapse – Hikaru Shirosu

I'm sick and alone at home so I needed something soothing to accompany this dreary winter day.

Last Movie:

I met up with a friend I hadn't seen in a while some time ago and we spontaneously decided to go watch Black Adam because I had been really hyped for it and it was airing and she couldn't resist my puppy dog eyes ehehe It was a real fun watch

Currently Reading:

Err...Technically...The Silmarilion but I somehow just can't find my way into it no matter how much I want to. Probably should've started with LotR instead...but aside from that the Jason Todd Zine I ordered came in the mail and I've been enjoying all the wonderful fanfic, if that counts?

Currently Watching:

Hmmm, nothing really. I started a re watch of Mob Psycho 100 recently but didn’t finish it. There is a Anime I'm waiting on that's going to air in late January I wanna watch it's about two detective/assassin type characters that find a child and have to take care of her and the found family feels is exactly my vibes ><

Also, I am determined to watch The Untamed for real this time, as soon as I'm better and not so swamped with uni work!

Currently Consuming:

Leftover crepes from yesterday's breakfast

Currently Craving:

Health, because I've almost chocked/suffocated to death way too much over the last week and maybe after I'm better a bit more motivation so I can finish important uni projects that are overdue and also start doodling a bit on the side again

No pressure tagging @swanfloatieknight and @ed-teach

#tag game

4 notes · View notes

sinceileftyoublog · 7 months ago

Text

Jon Langford Interview: Serve the Song

BY JORDAN MAINZER

When you ask Jon Langford what he's up to in the near future, he'll likely list a few upcoming concerts and art exhibitions before you realize he's referring to just this upcoming weekend. For the singer-songwriter and painter, the Mekon and Waco Brother, his past, present, and future discography and levels of participation seem just as vast. During his most recent visit to Austin (of which SXSW was a mere part), Langford played twelve shows: four with The Waco Brothers, three with The Far Forlon (his Austin-based band that plays Langford solo and Mekons songs), and five with The Bright Shiners, his new band that just released their debut record, Where It Really Starts (Tiny Global Productions). But Langford views himself as a mere thread rather than the center. "I am lucky to get to work with people more talented than me," he said to me over the phone after returning from SXSW. Sarcasm aside, Where It Really Starts epitomizes that democratic approach. "I love having not all of the responsibility on myself to come up with stuff," Langford said. "It's not a solo album. It's better than that."

The Bright Shiners started when Langford and John Szymanski, his frequent musical partner, attempted to make a duo acoustic guitar record that resulted in some interesting tunes, but not enough to resist contacting singer and keyboard player Alice Spencer. That is, though the Austin-based Spencer played in soul-funk band Shinyribs, Langford and Szymanski were enraptured by her solo work and Mellotron playing. Spencer was on board, and then Langford and Szymanski brought in violinist Tamineh Gueramy. The four wrote the majority of the songs on Where It Really Starts, with Langford concocting first drafts, Spencer arranging, and the group taking them to fruition. The result is easily the most lush music of Langford's career, from the steadily chiming "For The Queen of Hearts" to the dulcet "I Have A Wish".

Where It Really Starts is rich without being overstuffed, a natural combination of layered guitars and vocal harmonies, piano, pedal-affected strings, looped percussion, and of course, Mellotron. In other words, it's folk music with contemporary touches, Langford's storytelling firmly in the present while sometimes sounding appropriately old-timey. His vocal delivery resembles that of a troubadour on the fluttery, swaying "Awake The Land Of The Shadows"; he passionately trills on "Seahouses". And on "Discarded", a duet with Spencer, the two finish each other's sentences like a sardonic country couple. "You can talk about love, you can talk about society," sings Langford, "But when push comes to shove, you wiped the floor with me," responds Spencer, atop brawny, off-kilter horns. "Seahouses" and "Discarded", specifically, contain a multitude of musical ideas Spencer brought to the table, the former's filmic feel and the latter's horns. And even producer Brian Beattie gets his kicks: The album's final track, which sounds like an outtake from or demo of "Discarded", was actually Beattie playing all of the instruments in the studio and recording his half-hearted attempt at the lyrics of "Discarded", which The Bright Shiners found so funny, they decided to put it on the album.

My interview with Langford was not set up through a publicist. I literally said hello to him when I ran into him at The Beer Temple, at which point he mentioned he had a new record coming out that he'd be down to talk about. Two weeks later, we spoke on the phone. He and The Bright Shiners signed a two-album deal with Tiny Global Productions, so you can expect to hear more, but who knows what else--spontaneous or otherwise--Langford will get up to. In the meantime, read our interview below, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: When did The Bright Shiners form, and when did you start writing Where It Really Starts?

Jon Langford: It was more a social thing. We were talking. Alice Spencer was in a band...she's a keyboard player and a very good technical singer. She was doing other solo stuff which was really fascinating. She has a jazz background, but isn't into that virtuoso jazz stuff. We decided to write a few songs with John Szymanski and Tamineh [Gueramy.] John [had] been working with me, and I said to him [about Alice], "This woman's playing a Mellotron." And he said, "We should form a band with her." I didn't know there was such a thing as digital Mellotron. It's really kind of fascinating to me. Most of the songs are co-writes by the whole band. But I was handing over sketches and [Alice] was turning them into fully realized arrangements with vocals.

SILY: Did you come up with the lyrics?

JL: All the lyrics are mine.

SILY: How did you finish the songs? Was that a group effort?

JL: Yeah, the arrangements and the songs. The guy who produced it with us, [Brian Beattie,] had been working with Alice a lot. They'd done a duo together. The studio is called The Wonder Chamber. Alice was doing some recording there and sent me some video. I said, "Where is this? This is fantastic! If we do anything, this is where we should do it."

SILY: Is it in Austin?

JL: Yeah.

SILY: It seems to me that this album, more than your other solo albums, exists in the folk tradition but with more contemporary touches. Maybe that's the digital Mellotron. Would you agree?

JL: Yeah. We just wanted it to be kind of minimal. We started off with acoustic guitars, because John and I had been doing that for quite a while in a duo. We tried to make a record just me and him with acoustic guitar. It was alright, and we had a few ideas, but that's kind of on the backburner.

Music is so inherently collaborative. I've had solo records where I was totally in charge. This is basically something else. The song "Seahouses" was this epic thing Alice came up with based on something I'd sent her. I thought, "I don't remember writing this." It was mind-blowing. So beautiful, so different.

SILY: It definitely is a song that sounds like the seaside.

JL: There's something cinematic about it. I want to bash things down as simply and plainly as possible. That one has some epic moments. It's minimal in the sense that it's not a jam band. It's more like a dub reggae record where you have parts that lock and drive the song along and serve the record. When there's no singing, the parts get kind of detached from it. You can listen to these individual parts. It's getting away from the virtuosity and soloing: Just trying to serve the song.

SILY: Was there anything different this time around that inspired your lyrics?

JL: That's a good question. I'll have to talk to my therapist about that. [laughs] The lyrics are quite personal. They are inspired by the visual art I do. "For The Queen of Hearts", there was a painting called The Queen of Hearts that I made, a country singer that's like a playing card, body on top and repeated underneath. She's got two heads and is singing. The other one is a skull. I thought the song was kind of based on that.

SILY: Are you contextualizing each song with paintings you've done that might have inspired them?

JL: Some of them. "Seahouses", I went to a place called "Seahouses". It's a really dramatic place in the north of England, kind of bleak, pebbles rolling and smashing against each other, permanent and impermanent at the same time. The transitory nature of life and time itself, or something. It sounds really bonkers when I say it like that. [laughs]

Each song, I guess, has its own life. There's a lot of visual stuff in them.

SILY: There seems to be a good mix of songs that are reflective or internal and others more about storytelling, such as "Tell Me Your Story".

JL: I wrote that with a friend in Chicago, Jenny Bienemann. She had a project where she would write haikus and would hand them out to [people] to write a song from it to perform in a concert. There were 15 haikus, and she said, "Pick one you like." I thought "Tell Me Your Story" was fantastic. When you meet someone, you want to find out everything about them.

SILY: When you write or listen to folk music, do you tend to draw parallels between the modern day and the past?

JL: I think I write pretty much in the present. I'm not writing nostalgic or particularly optimistic [songs] anymore. I've tried to temper realism or pessimism.

SILY: A song like "The Emperor's Fiddle", with lines about talking to the dead and necromancing, and a line like, "We have more guns and disease than you can ever use" sounds like something that could be from an old folk song, but you could apply it to the modern day.

JL: You can apply it to the modern day. It's about going up the river and selling the Natives whiskey.

SILY: Why did you choose to throw in an unlisted track at the end that's basically an outtake of "Discarded"?

JL: That's actually Brian Beattie setting up the studio before we even arrived and playing all the instruments himself. [laughs] The first time I sat in the studio properly, he played me that. [laughs] I could have walked out. "Are you taking the piss? Are you making fun of us?" We all find it really amusing. "Is it you...I?" It grew on me in the end. I was like, "It's gotta go on."

SILY: It's like when people leave in studio chatter, but taken to the extreme.

JL: It exists. I don't know what else we were gonna do with it. Put it in a box and bury it somewhere? [laughs]

SILY: Did you do the album art for this?

JL: It's a collaboration between me and Jim Sherraden, the master printer at Hatch Show Print in Nashville. It's his woodcuts and my central figures.

SILY: How does it relate to the story of the album?

JL: It's parallel. I started working with him when we started The Bright Shiners. It was work that I was making. The idea of two people with a guitar flying through the air. There's an ethereal nature to a lot of these songs that ties in quite nicely. I like the idea of the printmaking. It's ornate. I like repetition. Mark E. Smith said, "It's not repetition, it's discipline." I find that in a lot of music I like. There doesn't have to be a high point or piano solo for people to show off their virtuosity. I thought that was a good parallel to the album. It can be beautiful and serious, but it doesn't have to be.

SILY: You can apply what Mark E. Smith says to listening, to, especially more repetitious songs that take a level of discipline or commitment, especially when they have abstraction to it.

JL: This is sort of artistic conceit. It wasn't just folk songs. We were definitely thinking about robotic, repetitive things going on. Some sort of hypnotic thing. "A Scale of One to Nine", I just wanted to [write a song] that sounds good when it comes back. [laughs] It's really relentless.

SILY: Any time you include wordless harmonies, it wriggles its way into your head.

JL: I don't like when people ask if I've made a concept record. Every record's a concept record to me. It's not like I've made a rock opera. It's a definable narrative. There's a story.

SILY: For how long have you been playing these songs live?

JL: [For] probably about eight months. After playing [at first], we understood what we wanted, and the writing process became a lot easier. We didn't do a whole album in one sitting, it was about four sittings, a few songs each time, and we got better at working. The song "I Have a Wish" is completely live. We wanted to see what it was like all playing together. It was really beautiful. We knew what we wanted to do. It's a simple song.

SILY: It has a really nice lilting melody.

JL: Alice is a really good singer. Most of the songs are duets. She really listens to phrasing and writes harmonies over the top. A lot of the time she's doing quite odd harmonies that are kind of cool.

SILY: How was it adapting some of the other songs to a live performance?

JL: It was pretty easy with this. We don't try making it sound exactly like the record. We did some gigs with a bass player and percussionist last year. Economically, we can't really do [that all the time]. We need to make it work as a four-piece. John and I have an understanding, telepathically, if I go up the neck, he goes down. The snare drum is often playing more percussively than he is, and he's finding notes that are similar to what's on the record but not exactly. Everybody sings really well, as well. We all sing together. There are beautiful moments. Tamineh uses pedals for the violin, and there are a lot of violin effects she's using. She'll use them in place of electric guitar on the record. Some Mellotron sounds are pretty fantastic. The violin with pedal delays can sound like a whole orchestra.

SILY: Did you put horns on "Discarded"?

JL: We did. Alice wanted to put a Salvation Army [brass] band on a track. I wasn't there when she did it. She got some people from Austin. I mirrored the part she was playing on the Mellotron and made it into something bigger. I wasn't sure about that song.

SILY: Are you always writing songs?

JL: Yep. I haven't for a while. I think when we finished the album, I definitely went through, at the end of last year, a phase where I wasn't doing anything. It's like a muscle. Once you turn it on again, it's like a tap. If you're not writing, you are writing somewhere in your head. A lot of things in the songs seem strange to me now because I didn't know what I meant when I wrote them, but sometimes, when we sing them on stage, I go, "Bloody hell, I wonder whether that's what that means." [laughs] It's kind of revealing tapping into the subconscious. That's where a lot of the stuff gets written.

SILY: Do you find it the same when someone in the audience might ask what something means or say a song means something different to them? Do the songs then change meaning for you?

JL: I kind of like the limitations of being a songwriter in the sense you can try and communicate something, but it might be misconstrued. I think that brings responsibility to what you talk about. It's so boring to set up a message, and say, "This song is about." It's a delicate balance to start writing songs and not be pedantic but still be authentic. Hopefully, people think about what you're singing about.

SILY: Is there anything you've been listening to, watching, or reading lately that's caught your attention?

JL: I listen to a lot of reggae still, but it's not new. I've got a vinyl player in my painting studio. I like that it stops every 25 minutes and you have to go and choose something else. You can't just put on a playlist. A lot of British reggae music from the 70s and 80s which wasn't appreciated at the time but is pretty fucking great. Steel Pulse, Misty in Roots. Bands I saw and played with at the time.

0 notes

blissfulbqrnes · 3 years ago

Text

counter you and jj get down n dirty on the counter in the chateau...

warnings smut, no mentions of protection, dirty talk, there's no plot just porn lol, mentions of john b, pope, kie, and sarah.

word count; ???

song rec close, nick jones + tove lo

note jj is aged up in this!! found this deep in my drafts...

YOUR LIPS MET HIS in a steamy kiss, you walking backwards into the chateau careful not to trip over your own feet, after john b and sarah disappeared you both spent a lot of time together there counting down the few days before school began, eventually becoming a little more than friends, the other two couples other of the friend group were always out together, the amount of times jj contemplated on having sex in his best friend’s old bed was unhealthy.

after gradation you both decided to stay in outer banks, it was spontaneous, sarah and john b to new york for sarah’s modeling, pope to college and kie to wherever she could record her music. leaving the two of you alone just like back in high school.

he pulled away from you tugging your bottom lip with him, before letting it snap back into place, he had somehow managed to get you into the kitchen and pressed against the cold marble. his hands that contained the rings he had owned for years played with the small white tank-top you wore, silently asking you if he could remove the article. instead of allowing jj to do so, you went ahead tossing the flimsy clothing to the side, not paying any attention to wherever the hell it landed.

a breathy laugh passed your lips when he trailed kisses on the sensitive parts of your neck. “you want me to take you on the counter?” jj mumbled against your collar bone, before sucking a bruise, that would soon turn purple, there. your whimpers that consisted of 'yes's and 'please's gave him the answer to his question. the button of the jean shorts you were wearing was digging into your stomach due to how you were sitting, “wait, j,” you gripped his biceps and he pulled away quickly.

"you okay?" he asked breathlessly, his cheeks were red and wet with spit, he ran his fingers through his hair moving it so it wasn't obstructing his view of you. "mhm" was all you said unbuttoning your shorts, pulling down the zipper, and tugging them down your legs. you were left in the red pair of panties that jj had decided to pick out for you this morning, they were lacey and thin, the material was soaking with your wetness now.

jj gripped your hips and again going in for a heated kiss that at the end of neither of you would be clothed. his right hand trailed down to your inner thighs, sliding your underwear to the side and pushing his ring and middle fingers to slowly circle your clit. your head rolled back on your hands, pulling away from the kiss entirely, you arms that were holding you up were starting to tremble from the stimulation from jj's fingers alone.

you moved your hips in an attempt to get him to do a little more, "ah ah~ stay still or you won't come at all, doll" you nodded whining at how stern his voice sounded, he was in charge, and you both knew it. a smile spread across his face at how you whined when he pushed one of his thick fingers into you, pumping it agonizingly slow just to watch how hot you are when your face contorts in pleasure, how you gasped, or how you were always begging for more.

"j, baby, please just fuck me" you swallowed around your tongue after you moaned out the request, fearing he'd just walk away and leave you to tend to your own issues, but your fingers weren't nearly as good as his, "what'd i say? what if just-" he pulled away exactly how you wished he wouldn't.

stepping away, looking at your body and the tears that welled up in your eyes, you looked pathetic, "are you crying? just for some dick?" he asked laughing after he finished the statement, a pout formed on your lips trying to slide off the counter grab him and pull him into you, but he walked back over to you gripping your chin, "patience, sweets." jj warned kissing your cheek, before pulling his shirt over his head

his body looked as if were crafted by the gods, like a perfect sculpture, the scars that ran along his torso from past fights with his father and no name kooks, those were what made him your jj, your hotheaded boyfriend, who in reality was most definitely more of a lover than a fighter. your eyes lingered longer than expected, "you're staring, toots" the way he spoke was taunting but never failed to make you weak in the knees and all your bones turn to jello. you laid back when he began to reach for your panties, to tug them off and toss them to be found after tonight's antics.

you lifted your hips allowing him more room, when they were removed he leaned down pressing kisses to your cleavage, your back arched when you unclasped your bra letting the straps fall down your shoulders. jj looked like a kid in a candy store, kissing and licked around your chest, pulling your nipples into his mouth with a small smile. you ran your hand through his blond locks gently and tugging on his hair just before it fell from between your fingers, your nails scratched at his scalp.

his mouth released your boob, his smile was bigger before, his pearly teeth on display this time, "just rail me will ya?" you sighed feigning disappointment, "yeah yeah 'just rail me will ya' " he mocked, his mood changed and it made you laugh, the same man was just threatening to leave you to get yourself off was now mocking you like a four-year-old. the khaki shorts he was swearing were unbuttoned and slipped down his hips, the sight of his deep his deep v-line nearly making you drool.

your finger tucked into the elastic of his boxers, pulling him close to you once again, reaching down to palm his erection, before letting you get too carried away, jj gripped your wrist and pulled you by your waist off the counter, turning your body around so you were facing the counter and your boobs were pressing against the cold surface. you heard shuffling behind you before jj's warm hands met your hips once again. "you alright?" he asked, he never forgot to ask you if you're good, especially with things like this and you nodded.

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #obx #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #bri writes

191 notes · View notes

erenyeagerssgf · 3 years ago

Text

as the wind blows through your hair

♡ characters: eren, mikasa, armin

♡ contains: gn!reader with longer hair, like one swear word, modern au, platonic relationship, really self-indulgent, fluff

♡ summary: armin’s dream has always been to travel the world and see new sights with eren. this time, mikasa and you are dragged along.

♡ word count: ~500

♡ a/n: i’ve just finished reading “people we meet on vacation” by emily henry and it has influenced me to write about these three. they deserve their vacation and happiness <3 decided to keep this in the drafts until it was a certain character’s bday so,, happy birthday eren!!!

the harsh breeze of the highway rustled your hair as you roughly moved it away from your face. spitting as the hair somehow made its way into your mouth. mikasa chuckled at the mess you were in the backseat as she watched you from the passenger’s side.

“just put a hair tie on already!” she exclaimed with giddiness unusual to her normally reserved and quiet presence. mikasa was never this laidback. it was quite the nice sight; her own short hair framing her face and getting slightly in her eyes, the lighthearted smile showing off her beautiful white teeth, that sparkle in her gray eyes that was usually absent. the sunlight illuminated the right side of her face as she stared back at you. in turn, it made you just as giddy.

“you know i don’t have any. that shit always gets lost after one day!” you replied.

eren chuckles as he focuses on the road. he understands all too well. he was lucky this time however, his brown hair that he’d been growing out was tied up into a lose knot at the back of his head towards his neck. the hair on the front of his head spilling out over his eyes, too short to be captured in the knot. his skin was already tanned, muscles exposed by his t-shirt that was rolled up his arms as he held onto the steering wheel. your gaze followed his hand as he lifted it off the steering wheel towards mikasa’s direction. she slipped the extra hair tie off his wrist and handed it to you. you murmured a thank you as you quickly pulled your own hair out of your face and into a loose knot that resembled eren’s.

to your right, armin had been reading a travel guide on the location you guys were headed. though you found him watching the three of you instead of reading, the guide laid face down on his lap.

this had been a spontaneous trip planned by armin. for the longest time armin and eren planned to travel the world together; now freshly young adults, their dreams were becoming a reality. of course, that meant mikasa and you would be roped into it as well. you were a fan of spontaneous trips, immediately packing two duffel bags of everything you might need after getting a phone call from armin. he never told you where you were headed and you never dared to ask, only inquiring about the date and time.

you watched armin with a smile that reflected his as his ocean blue eyes squinted towards you. the sun was in his eyes, a light pink dusted his face as it lit up with excitement. his short blonde hair tousled by the wind as well. you leaned over to his side, grabbed his hand and began singing your favorite song as it blasted on the radio. he groaned at you and eren’s horrible attempts at hitting the high notes as everyone burst into laughter.

this would be a great trip, a great and much needed break from the slow and unmoving world everyone was constantly stuck in. you would all let loose and make memories that were kept in that special pocket of your heart containing the three of them.

#💐.cutie #eren x reader #mikasa x reader #armin x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #fluff #platonic relationships #self indulgent

111 notes · View notes

maswritingblog · 3 years ago

Text

The Arrangement - Part Four

Summary: After their first failure, Lucy and Marcus continue with the schedule as planned and hope for the best.

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY!), Oral (f receiving), mentions of trying to conceive, mentions of fertility, pregnancy tests (in case that is triggering for anyone) Unedited because I literally finished it and wanted to post it, so sorry for any mistakes.

A/N: Here is the next part! I hope you all enjoy it and I once again apologize for the long wait for this chapter. It’s a long one, coming in at about 7k words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucy’s phone chimed on her desk beside her, pulling her attention away from the email she was composing. She had been needing a break, her eyes starting to get tired from staring at her computer screen all morning. She took the opportunity to draft the email and sat back in her cushy office chair, unlocking her phone to view the notification.

Ovulation day!

The two words were framed by little flowers from the theme for the dumb cycle tracking app she’d downloaded a few days after she had started sleeping with Marcus. She hadn’t realized it was her ovulation day and she cursed inwardly; not only was it Tuesday, she also had to work late tonight, so spending an extra night at Marcus’s wasn’t an option.

Dammit. She sighed heavily, placing her phone back on her desk as she thought for a moment. She couldn’t afford to not stay late tonight, but Marcus couldn’t afford to lose one of the best days they had. That really only left one option…but she wasn’t sure if Marcus would agree to it, or if she was up for it either.

She debated it for a long few minutes before she decided it was a risk she was willing to take, and she grabbed her phone to send Marcus a message.

Meet me in the parking garage in five minutes. Level 8.

She hoped she wasn’t being too crazy, that he wouldn’t think she was out of her mind when she revealed her plan. Honestly, she was out of her mind for even thinking about doing something like this at work.

Marcus’s reply came back almost instantly. Everything okay?

Instead of answering, she dropped her phone on her desk and pushed her chair back. She made sure her computer was locked and secured before slipping out of her office and heading towards the elevators. She tried not to look into Marcus’s office on the way, though she knew he must be confused about the situation.

She wanted the mystery to work in her favor.

Level eight of the parking garage was one of the levels that didn’t get much traffic. It was where the extra government vehicles were parked and agents would use them occasionally when they couldn’t use the ones assigned to them. The secluded level would be perfect so long as there weren’t any agents needing a temporary vehicle.

Lucy rode the elevator to floor six and got off, walking quickly to the SUV she’d been issued for her team but didn’t get to use that often. It might as well get some use now, even if it wasn’t exactly what the big-wigs had in mind when they’d handed her the keys.

Driving up to the eighth floor, she moved down the two rows of matching black SUVs and finally parked at the end of the row on the left side. She only hoped it was far enough away that nobody would notice anything.

She tried not to think about the fact that she was slightly turned on by the idea of doing this. Maybe it was the thrill of getting caught, of the consequences of being found doing something so inappropriate on government property.

Stepping out of her car, she walked around to lean against the back end as she waited for Marcus. It only took another minute before the elevator dinged and he stepped out, looking around with a look of confusion on his face before he spotted her and headed her way.

“Lucy? What’s going on?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of her, his brown eyes searching her face for any kind of answer.

For a brief moment, she almost wanted to chicken out. It would be easy to change her mind, even if she would have to come up with an explanation as to why she had dragged him to the parking garage in the middle of the work day.

“So, it’s Tuesday,” she started slowly, trying to decide how to approach the situation.

He nodded slowly. “…yes…”

Lucy laughed lightly, more at the situation that she’d put herself in more than anything else. “It’s Tuesday, and I have to stay late tonight to work on the briefing for tomorrow. But the thing is…I’m ovulating. Today’s the highest chance for pregnancy according to my stupid app, so I didn’t want to miss the chance to try.”

As she rambled, he seemed to put it together. His eyes widened nearly comically and he glanced around the parking level as if someone would be lurking in the shadows watching them.

“You—you want to do it here?” he asked, voice laced with surprise. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

She nodded quickly. “I know it’s crazy, but this could be the day and this is the only time we’ll have to try. We don’t exactly have time to drive anywhere offsite, and I’m not about to do it in a bathroom or a supply closet where anyone could walk in. I figured this would be the best place since nobody really comes up to this level.”

Marcus sputtered, seeming to lose all ability to speak. “W-What? How—How?”

She wondered if he was flustered because he thought she was nuts, or if he liked the idea. She had to admit that the prospect of getting caught had an affect on her in a way she hadn’t realized before; perhaps it had something to do with breaking the rules.

“The back seats lay down, leaves a good amount of room in the trunk. But we don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it; I just won’t be able come over tonight and I didn’t want to miss an ovulation day.”

He was silent and she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. Sometimes she felt like she could read Marcus like a book, and sometimes she felt like he was locked in a safe and she didn’t know the combination. As he eyeballed the back of the SUV, she wondered if she had truly lost her mind when she had thought this was a good idea.

Finally, he gave her a pointed look. “Are you comfortable with this? I don’t want you to think you have to do this just for me.”

Of course, he was being a gentleman about this. Of course, he was putting her comfort above his. It was so on brand for him, and yet that didn’t stop her from being surprised by it. She appreciated it, while also wishing he would think of himself more often.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m the one suggesting this, remember?”

Marcus paused in thought for a moment, his eyes moving from the SUV to her multiple times before he finally nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He agreed.

She wasn’t sure why she was surprised, maybe because she thought public sex was a line he wasn’t willing to cross. If she were being honest with herself, it wasn’t a line she had ever imagined crossing either. Desperate times called for desperate measures, though, right? Something told her this wasn’t what the person who had coined that phrase had in mind.

“Okay.” She echoed, moving to one of the back doors and motioning for him to go around to the other side.

Pulling the door open, she reached for the lever to lower the seat on her side and watched as Marcus did the same. With the back row lying flat, there was plenty of room for the two of them to lay down, which seemed like the best way to not be spotted should anyone actually come to this level. Climbing in was a bit awkward, but they managed to get the doors shut behind them. Kneeling in the back of the SUV, they stared at each other for a beat.

“So, how do we do this?” Marcus wondered, asking the same question she had been mulling over in her head.

She didn’t know why she had to have the answer for everything, but it could have something to do with the fact that she had initiated this encounter. She had been confident about this idea when she’d come up with it, but now she found herself blanking on the next step. Perhaps she didn’t have it in her to be this spontaneous?

“I didn’t really have this all planned out…” she admitted slowly. The awkwardness felt like the first time all over again, and it almost made her laugh.

Marcus nodded. “Okay, so I don’t really want to be caught buck naked at work, so I’m thinking that we stay as clothed as possible.” He suggested.

It was something she could agree with. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. So, pants only then?”

“Pants only.”

Lucy reached down to work on her belt and he did the same. Once her pants were undone and she’d pushed them down her thighs slightly, she sat fully and started pushing them down her legs. It wasn’t the easiest task in the back of the SUV and she found she had to lay down a bit to even get them to her knees.

Marcus’s hands were gently pushing hers away then and he pulled the tight slacks down her legs.

“If I had known this was gonna happen, I would have worn a skirt today.” She joked, slipping her shoes off so he could pull her pants off and push them out of the way.

“Definitely would have been easier.” He teased as he slotted his hips between her thighs and leaned over her to press his lips to hers.

His belt was hanging open, the cool metal pressing against the skin of her inner thigh and making her jump slightly. Their tongues tangled and she wanted to run her hands through his hair the way he liked, but she didn’t want to make it obvious what he’d been doing away from his desk. Instead, she reached down and finished opening his pants for him, lowering the zipper and slipping her hand inside to palm him over his briefs.

Marcus groaned into her mouth, pressing his hips into her hand as his teeth nipped at her bottom lip and then her chin before his lips returned to hers in a heated kiss. He rolled his hips against her palm and she squeezed him gently, pulling another groan from his throat, followed by his hand grasping her wrist in warning.

Lucy chuckled against his lips, beginning to squeeze again only to be surprised by his next move.

The grip on her wrist tightened and he yanked her hand from his pants, pinning her wrist down next to her head. He pulled away to stare down at her, his chest heaving as his eyes narrowed playfully at her.

“What?” she asked in feigned innocence, stifling a laugh.

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he simply shook his head at her with a laugh of his own. He released her wrist and supported his weight on his hand next to her head, the other reaching down to begin pushing his pants and briefs down.

Taking it as a cue, she reached down to do the same with her underwear, sliding them down her legs as best she could as he pushed his down to his knees.

“Can’t believe we’re actually doing this.” He commented as he situated himself between her legs again, his erection bobbing against his stomach where he’d pulled his dress shirt up out of the way of any potential messes.

She wanted to ask him if it was as exhilarating to him as it was to her, but she thought that maybe he didn’t see it that way, that he’d find it weird that she did. She’d discovered a lot of things about herself since they’d begun sleeping together, a lot of things that excited her despite the fact that she’d never considered them in that light before. Perhaps she was more depraved than she realized.

“We don’t have to.” She reminded him, just in case he was having second thoughts. She wasn’t sure if he was given the way he was already so ready, the tip of him already leaking. Despite his body’s reaction, though, she wanted to give him the chance to back out.

Marcus’s met her gaze, and his voice came out soft despite the way his eyes had darkened with lust. “I want to.” He reassured her while silently asking if she still wanted this as well.

There was a long beat of silence as she stared up at him. She admired his handsome features, the way a lock of his perfectly styled hair had fallen onto his forehead and the way his nose curved down towards his plump lips. That single dimple that she found so endearing.

It still baffled her how he didn’t already have a beautiful wife and family.

She found herself unable to respond verbally, so she reached up to pull his mouth back down to hers.

He got the hint, pressing his body down close to hers as he reached down to position himself at her entrance. He slid his tip up and down her folds a couple of times, gathering her wetness before pressing into her slowly. He eased in until his hips were flush against hers, both moaning in unison as their lips parted, their foreheads pressed together.

There was no going back now; Lucy’s knees brushed against his sides as she hitched her legs up further on his hips, pulling him deeper inside her with a soft sigh against his mouth.

His hips drew back slowly and then he slid forward again, repeating the movement a few times. As good as he felt, as good as the slide of him inside her walls made her feel, she knew they didn’t have the same amount of time they usually did and anyone could come up to this floor at any time.

“We have to hurry.” She gasped as he filled her again.

He pulled almost completely out of her and paused. For just a moment she thought he might stop, but then he thrust forward, driving into her hard and fast, wasting no time before he did it again, and again.

Lucy clung to his shoulders, hands fisting in the material of his shirt as she held on, small and breathy moans escaping her each time he filled her. She knew his shirt might be wrinkled by her hands, but at least he could cover it with his suit jacket if he needed to. For now, all she needed to be focused on was the pleasure rolling through her with his movements, and the hope that the risk they were taking would pay off in the end.

The rhythm they had created had the SUV rocking gently; if anyone saw they would definitely know what was happening inside.

Marcus was hovering over her, supporting his weight on one hand as the other hooked under her right knee to press her leg closer to her chest. The new angle had him driving deeper inside and brushing against her just right; the slap of his hips against hers as he worked at a bruising pace only echoed by their sounds of pleasure.

One of Lucy’s hands scrambled down from his shoulder, desperate for purchase. She gripped at his side where his shirt was raised, nails biting into the skin as she rolled her hips up to meet his.

Marcus groaned above her in response to the scratch of her nails and as he thrust forward again, he took a moment to grind his pelvis against hers.

“Oh, fuck.” She gasped, reaching up to cup his jaw and pull his mouth back down to hers.

Their tongues tangled as they moaned into each other’s mouths, hips working together to get them closer to their release. Just as Lucy felt herself approaching the cliff, the ding of the elevator startled them.

They both jumped, freezing their movements as Marcus hunched over her as if he was trying to shield her semi-nude body from any prying eyes. His head lifted slightly to peek out the window and Lucy waited with baited breath for someone to catch them.

They would surely be fired if they were caught having sex at work.

Marcus’s brown eyes were locked on whoever had arrived on the parking level. The sound of voices filled the concrete structure and Lucy thought for sure things were going to end badly.

Unexpectedly, Marcus slowly rolled his hips against hers, causing her eyes to flutter involuntarily.

“Wha—?”

“Ssshh.” Marcus shushed softly, eyes not leaving the window as he pulled out slowly only to fill her again at the same pace.

Was he really doing this? As he rocked his hips again, it seemed he was.

His eyes never left the window as he moved slowly over her. She could hear voices on the parking level, although they were several vehicles away. Each push and pull of his hips had him brushing up against the sensitive spot inside her and it only served to drive her closer and closer to the edge.

Although she tried to stop it, she couldn’t completely hide the small moan that escaped her as his hips ground against hers. She knew she needed to keep quiet for both their sakes, but it just felt too good.

Marcus gently shushed her again, the tips of his first three fingers pressing delicately to her lips to keep her quiet.

God, there was something about the need to keep quiet that had her so close.

The soft thudding of car doors shutting echoed through the parking garage and Marcus used the opportunity to snap his hips against hers just a little harder, pulling another whimper from her throat as her eyes fluttered closed.

An engine started before the vehicle could be heard driving down the ramp exiting the level and Marcus pulled his hand away from her mouth, driving his hips forward as he returned to the pace they’d set before the interruption.

Lucy tried to ignore the way she missed his fingers over her lips, choosing to drag his mouth back down to hers for a heated kiss, lifting her hips to meet his hard thrusts as one of his arms wrapped around her to hold her body against his.

“Fuck.” Lucy gasped against his mouth, feeling herself once again on the precipice. One of her hands fisted in his shirt again, while the other seemed to have a mind of its own and slid around to grasp a handful of his backside as if it would help guide his movements. She couldn’t think straight, all she knew was how good he felt, and then she was tumbling over the edge with a string of moans.

Marcus buried his face in her neck, working her through her orgasm with a groan of his own at the way she pulsed around him. His arm tightened around her, fingers digging into her ribcage as his thrusts become shallow and deliberate as he desperately chased after his own release.

Lucy’s hand left his shirt, reaching up to smooth through the hair on the back of his head as if she was encouraging him to let go. Her nails dug into his backside as she gently tugged on the soft locks of hair, eliciting a moan from where he was tucked into her neck.

A little encouragement was all it took and he was there, warmth blossoming inside her as he filled her with rope after rope. He moaned slowly, nuzzling against her neck as he came down from his high.

They laid there like that for a minute or two as they cooled down, tangled up in each other despite the fact that they didn’t have the luxury of their normal wind down time. Even though they needed to get back to work before anyone noticed they were both missing, neither of them moved. Perhaps it had been the fact that they had almost been caught or that they had done this at work, but it had made this time more exhilarating, and in turn had exhausted them.

Regardless, Lucy didn’t mind a little extra time with his arms around her.

After what felt like five minutes or more, she rubbed both her hand up and down his back slowly. “We have to get back to work.” She spoke softly, her voice raw.

Marcus nodded against her throat. “Mmhmm.” He mumbled, arm squeezing around her tighter for several seconds before he slowly pulled back to look down at her, his eyes darkened with something other than lust.

Lucy’s fingers brushed over his cheekbone and she glanced at the fogged over window over their heads. “We totally missed the opportunity to recreate Titanic.” She noted with a chuckle.

He laughed lightly, brushing her hair off her forehead. “Maybe next time.” He offered, still slightly out of breath from the exertion.

Lucy raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmm…are you trying to get caught with your pants down regularly?”

“Well, I was thinking we’d park somewhere more discrete, but if you wanted to do it in the middle of the road, that’s fine too.”

She shook her head at him, rolling her eyes playfully. “As thrilling as it was to almost lose my job, I think we should stick with discretion in the future.”

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Oh, it was thrilling for you, huh?” he teased.

Another eyeroll. “Getting less thrilling by the second.”

He snickered, leaning down to press his lips against hers in a chaste kiss that quickly turned heated.

She allowed it for a few seconds before pushing against his chest. “Okay, okay, we gotta get back to work.” As much as she would have enjoyed potentially going for another round, she knew they could both only be away from their offices for so long before it became suspicious.

“I know, I know.” He sighed, taking a second before he slipped out of her and rolled onto his back, beginning to put his clothes back together.

Lucy reached for her underwear, pulling them back on before moving for her pants. It was a bit awkward trying to redress in the back of the SUV, but they quickly got themselves presentable.

“Okay, I’m gonna drive this back to where I originally parked and you can go back to your office. That way we don’t show back up at the same time.”

He nodded as he opened the car door and climbed out. “That’s probably a good idea. Don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”

She rounded the back end of the car and reached up to fix his collar before smoothing her hands over the wrinkles on his shoulders from her hands. “Well, I think they’ll probably figure it out when I get pregnant.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

Marcus paused, eyes widening slightly as he took in her words. Lucy didn’t seem to register what she’d said, adjusting her own shirt as best she could using the reflection in the car window.

“When?”

She turned at the surprise in his voice, finding his face open with awe. “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?” She teased him with a chuckle. Inwardly, she too realized that she’d said when instead of if. Maybe it was just positive thinking, or maybe she just knew it was going to work out for him. As good a guy as Marcus Pike was, he deserved to have a family and surely whatever deity reigned above would see that.

“Y-Yeah,” he swallowed hard. “I guess it was just different hearing you sound so sure about it.”

“Look, I know I’ve been sort of a Debbie Downer the last few days—”

“—No! It was rough when things didn’t work out, I understand why you were upset. I was, too. It’s just nice to hear you feeling positive again.”

Lucy grinned at him, stepping closer and resting her hands on his hips. “Well, that would be the endorphins, probably. You know, from the mind-blowing sex we just had?”

He couldn’t help but laugh in response, nodding his head in agreement. “Well, I suppose you’re right.”

“I always am.”

Stretching onto her toes, she pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss before she stepped away. If she let it go any further, they might end up in the SUV again.

“Okay, get back upstairs before someone notices.”

“As you wish.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peeing on a stick always felt so weird to her. She’d had her fair share of pregnancy scares in college, so it was nothing new, but the act of trying to land as much urine on the tip of a stick as she could was always odd. Having to stop several times to use multiple tests was just as strange, but soon she was standing in front of the bathroom sink with three pregnancy tests in front of her.

Two minutes and she’d know. Two minutes and her life would either change for the better or continue to be stressful for the short amount of time Marcus had left before his surgery.

“Are you sure it’s not too soon?” the man in question asked from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed.

She’d opened the bathroom door after she’d peed on the sticks, not wanting to wait for the results alone.

“I don’t know, these tests say you can take them as early as ten days after unprotected sex.” She said, studying the box again. “I mean, we’ve done it plenty of times since the SUV, but something about that time felt like it worked.”

“Probably just those endorphins.”

She gave him a wry look, rolling her eyes even though she knew he was probably right. She couldn’t explain it, but something about that time felt right. And, yeah, maybe it was just the rush she’d gotten from almost being caught or the fact that it had been one of their best moments together, but she still needed to check. Besides, the only harm that could come from a negative result would be disappointment, and she was already chalk full of that.

“It’s been two minutes.” Marcus said softly, breaking her from her thoughts.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer, leaning down to check the tests. Her shoulders slumped.

They were all negative.

When Marcus spoke again, his voice was closer, in the room with her. “Maybe we did it too early.” He offered softly.

Lucy sighed heavily, scooping up the tests and dropping them in the trash can with a loud thunk. This was the first time they’d tried actually taking tests—the first failure had come in the form of her menstrual cycle—and she had hoped for the kind of excitement that happened in movies all the time where the couple takes the test and see the positive result and cry in each other’s arms; that was a sham.

“Hey, hey,” He seemed to pick up on her mood shift immediately, his hands moving to rest on her shoulders. “It’s probably just too early. Don’t worry, we still have plenty of time.”

“Plenty of time? Marcus, you only have like forty days before your surgery. I thought this would be easier. Like…I know that people struggle with this stuff all the time but we’ve also been having a lot of unprotected sex. How could one of those times not have taken?”

He maneuvered her body to face him, his hands returning to her shoulders where he continued to squeeze reassuringly. “Sometimes it just takes time, remember? Don’t get so stressed out, it doesn’t help.”

“It’s hard not to be stressed when your clock is running out.”

There was a long silence between them before he perked up. “Let’s go out tonight. Blow off some steam, have some drinks. It’ll be good for the both of us.”

Lucy shook her head. “We’re not supposed to drink, remember?”

He rolled his eyes. “One night won’t hurt us, I promise. We both need to relax a little.”

For a moment, she thought about it. What could it hurt to have some fun for one night? If the stress was already ruining things for them, then alcohol could only help, right? If it loosened her up and made her less stressed, that had to help a bit. Perhaps it was a good idea.

Finally, she caved. “Okay, okay. Let’s go out.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucy couldn’t contain the giggle that escaped her as they stumbled into her apartment a few hours later. She was lingering somewhere between tipsy and fully drunk, feeling good after a night drinking away her worries; they weren’t supposed to drink while trying to conceive, at least according to all the research, but it had been nice to unwind after feeling so stressed out. Stress wasn’t good for conceiving either, so she figured alcohol wouldn’t hurt this once.

Marcus, who was equally feeling the effects of the alcohol, locked the door behind them and ushered her into the kitchen. He immediately went for the cabinet he knew housed her glasses and pulled one down, filling it with water from the faucet and taking a gulp before handing it to her.

Even wasted he was a gentleman.

Their eyes locked over the rim of the glass as she drank and she slowly lowered the glass to the countertop, eyes never leaving his. The silence was palpable, the tension in the room so thick she could cut it with a knife if she wanted to. She reached for him and he met her halfway, their mouths meeting in a searing kiss.

His hands were all over her as hers bunched in his shirt, their tongues tangling, and Lucy was reminded once again that she wasn’t as good at keeping things casual as she would have preferred. She wondered if he felt the same or if this was easier for him.

He trailed kissed down her jaw and neck, nipping at her skin gently and soothing over the spots with a flick of his tongue as she panted, a whimper escaping her as he sucked lightly on that sensitive spot beneath her ear.

He didn’t stop there. He pressed kisses to her collarbone and then her chest, moving lower until he was kneeling in front of her. His hands brushed against the skin of her thighs and slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, his eyes turning up to meet hers as he pushed the fabric until it was bunched around her hips.

She gasped as his lips pressed against her inner thigh, light as a feather as he trailed kisses upwards. In all the time they’d spent together, they hadn’t done this—they’d been more focused on getting straight to the point—and she felt like her heart was about to explode out of her chest.

Fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, his eyes on hers once again as he began to drag them down her hips and thighs until they fell to pool around her ankles. She stepped out of them, kicking them aside as she gripped the edge of the counter in anticipation. She was already soaked.

His hand gripped underneath her left knee and he lifted the leg to hook it over his shoulder. His eyes finally left hers as he began trailing kisses up her leg from her knee until he reached the spot she wanted him most. There was a moment of pause as he seemed to take her in, before he leaned forward and dragged his tongue through her folds in one smooth stroke, ending at the bundle of nerves, which he circled slowly with the tip of his tongue.

Lucy gasped, one hand leaving the counter to thread her fingers through his hair. Her eyes fell closed as she relished the feeling.

He certainly knew what he was doing as he got to work, and before long she was moaning breathlessly as she clung to him. She canted her hips slowly against his mouth, and she wasn’t sure which she liked more: his tongue on her clit or when his tongue trailed further down and his nose rubbed against it just right.

Her right leg was shaking as it tried to support her weight as she verged on the edge, her body was on fire. She wanted to ask how he’d gotten so good at this, but she didn’t want to think about the women in his past too much either.

His tongue flicked her clit once more before his mouth closed around it and he sucked lightly. It was all it took to send her over the precipice with a whine. Her fingers tugged on his hair and she struggled to stay upright, and he gripped her hips to keep her standing as he lapped at her center and slowly brought her down from her high.

“Shit.”

Marcus chuckled against her, pulling away to look up at her once more; his face was shiny from her wetness, and he licked his lips before wiping his face on the back of his hand as he stood.

She reached for him, pulling his mouth back to hers for a kiss, tasting herself on him. That had definitely sobered her up. She could feel his hardness pressing against her hip and although her legs were shaking, the release sent a thrill through her and she reached down to quickly undo his belt.

Perhaps he was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, or maybe going down on her had sent him into a frenzy like some kind of shark, because he gripped her hips and turned her around to face the other way. As her hands landed on the countertop, she could hear his belt jingling and then the unzipping of his pants. Her teeth bit into the pillow of her bottom lip in anticipation, still amped up from her high.

The rustling of fabric told her he’d freed himself, and then his hands were on her hips; he pushed the skirt of her dress up higher and stepped closer, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down her spine. There seemed to be a moment of hesitation and then he asked with a raspy voice: “Is this okay?”

It was something she found she really loved about him—he had already brought her to orgasm with his tongue and they’d had sex numerous times, but he was still asking if it was okay to take her from behind. Anyone else would have laughed, but she found it to be very attractive.

“Yes.” She replied, barely over a whisper at the thought of what was to come.

He nudged her feet further apart with one of his and then she felt the tip of him brushing through her folds. She leaned forward over the counter more and angled her hips better and then he was pushing forward slowly until he was fully seated inside her.

She moaned softly at the feeling, pressing back against him.

Marcus pressed his face into her hair, inhaling her scent as he remained still for a moment as if he was collecting himself, or maybe gathering the strength to continue. Then, ever so slowly, he withdrew until just the tip was left inside of her. He paused again, adjusted his grip on her hips, and then thrust forward quickly to fill her completely. He repeated the motion several times until he was pounding into her.

She wasn’t quite sure how he managed to be gentle and rough at the same time, and the pace he had chosen surprised her; not that she didn’t think he had it in him, but that it was new. If it stole the breath from her lungs, she wasn’t complaining. He mouthed at her neck and shoulder, where the thin strap of her dress had fallen down her arm. The contrast between the gentle grazing of his teeth on her skin and the brutal thrusts inside her had her weak in the knees.

“Fuck.” She moaned, doubling over to press her forehead to the countertop, relishing in the cool surface against her heated skin.

Marcus’s hands were gripping her hips tightly, his own hips meeting her backside over and over and creating a delicious noise that echoed off the kitchen tiles, the grunts and groans spilling from his lips matched her own. One of his hands smoothed up her back and he gripped her shoulder, angling his hips on the next thrust and pulling her back against him.

Lucy’s breath left her again in a string of moans as the new angle hit perfectly every time.

“Stop that racket!” a voice shouted from the other side of the wall, along with a fist pounding.

She couldn’t help but laugh at her neighbor, an elderly man who made tons of noise but hated when anyone else made even a peep. She heard Marcus chuckling behind her, but the intrusion only seemed to spur him on and his hips smacked harder against hers. It had her moaning louder, and she realized that had been his intention all along.

Though she probably wouldn’t admit it, she liked that he wanted to antagonize her neighbor.

The hand that had been at her shoulder slid down her side and around her front, dipping between her legs to circle her clit with the pads of his fingers. As she reached to grip the edge of the counter, her arm knocked into the forgotten glass of water and sent it tumbling to the floor where it surprisingly didn’t shatter. Neither one of them paid it any mind as their releases approached rapidly.

The neighbor was pounding on the wall again, but it was doing him more harm than good as the sounds echoed louder against the tiles.

“I am going to call the landlord!” the elderly man yelled on the other side.

“S-So call them!” Lucy shouted back, just as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. If the neighbor hadn’t made such a big deal, she would have tried to stifle her moans, but instead she lifted her head from where it had been resting on the countertop and let him hear it just because she knew it would infuriate him.

Marcus’s face was buried in her neck and his warm breath huffed against her skin as he laughed at her reaction. His movements were frantic, desperate, as he chased his own release and it didn’t take long for him to stiffen behind her. He pressed his body close to hers and groaned into her ear as he filled her.

They were still for a long moment, panting as they came down.

“I don’t think your neighbor likes you.” He joked, pressing a kiss to her neck.

Lucy laughed out loud, knowing it would also annoy the man in question. “I don’t really care.” She shrugged the shoulder his head wasn’t resting against.

“I’ll leave earbuds on his doormat.”

“No, let him listen. It’s probably the most action he’s gotten in decades.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a Tuesday night two weeks later that it happens. She’s reorganizing her bathroom purely due to boredom and she stumbles across a box of pregnancy tests. She peeked inside and felt her heart race a little; there was one test left.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she pulled the test out and debated using it. They had been keeping up with their schedule, meeting at his place minus a couple of times when they really wanted to annoy her neighbor. Even though the three tests she’d taken two weeks ago had been negative, it didn’t mean she wasn’t pregnant then. False negatives happened all the time if the test was taken too early.

Maybe now is the right time.

She ripped the plastic wrapper off the test and moved to the toilet, glad she hadn’t used the bathroom yet. As she finished and set the test on the sink so she could wash her hands, she glanced up at herself in the mirror.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Luce.” She whispered to herself. She knew if it came back negative, which it more than likely would, it would only hurt more.

She had to step out of the room because she knew it would only make the minutes go by slower. What was that saying? A watched pot never boils? So, a watched pregnancy test never develops? She moved to the kitchen to start putting away the dishes in the dishwasher. By the time she finished, five minutes had passed.

It was time.

“Shit.” She whispered to herself, shuffling nervously towards the bathroom.

What was she going to do if it was negative? Marcus didn’t have much time left, if it wasn’t going to happen then that would break both their hearts.

But what if it was positive? It was what they’d wanted all along, but she couldn’t help but feel her stomach flip with nerves at the idea that all their efforts had paid off. It wasn’t because she didn’t want a baby, but because she did.

The test was sitting upright on the counter, all it would take was for her to step forward and she’d know. One step forward. It was just one step.

Knowing if she didn’t do it now, she’d never do it, she stepped forward quickly and snatched the test up, lifting it to stare down at the tiny plastic window.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

It was positive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I didn’t add pregnancy on the list of warnings because I didn’t want to spoil it. But also, if you are reading a fic that is specifically about getting pregnant, that is kind of a given.

Tag list: (strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you)

@absurdthirst @meanperegrine @hopeamarsu @bison-writes @giselatropicana @melispunk @hnt-escape @cheekygeek05 @bluemoon-glen @star-wars-hell @lawfulgranola @underwaterwonderscapes @words-way-of-life @kesskirata @rosiefridayrogersunday-reads @nicolethered @fangirl-316 @finnisrioting @janelongxox @hellovanessax @a-trial-run-on-paper @christina-loves @moonlightburned @generallybrontidefeelings @shakespeareanwannabe @griscka75 @neganwifey25-blog @tacticalsparkles @daffodin @fastandfeminist @valentinasubmarina @a-skov @ptutts @librariantothejedi @janebby @redsilentwolf28 @tuskens-mando @spideysimpossiblegirl @skeletonstwins

Please let me know if you would like to be added to (or removed from) the tag list!

#The Arrangement #marcus pike #marcus pike smut #pedro pascal smut #marcus pike fic #the mentalist #pedro pascal fic #mywriting #didn't add pregnancy as a warning bc i didn't want to spoil it so i apologize

254 notes · View notes

writingdayandnight · 4 years ago

Text

Line Without a Hook - Rafael Barba Imagine

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Reader (Fem. Pronouns)

Word Count: 2650

A/N: Inspiration struck, perhaps a little OOC. Will probably go back later and edit. Just a little treat for everyone who misses Barba like I do.

10:56 PM.

There was not a doubt in Rafael’s mind that he would not be home until after midnight. This case had been excruciating--brutal, really. Everyone had been pushed to their breaking point. Blood, sweat, and tears were poured into this case.

And here Rafael was with a pen cap fastened between his teeth, struggling to write an opening argument. It all seemed trivial. That words had the power to make or break a month’s worth of hard work. And that all he could think about was going home to his partner.

He wouldn’t allow himself the privilege of a break until he finished his opening and prepped the summations, which was always his least favorite part. Tying everything together with a neat bow seemed to minimize the effort put into seeking justice. But it was his strong suit. There wasn’t a jury he couldn’t convince if given enough leeway during summations.

His mind wandered yet again, back to the person that was waiting for him. He knew she would still be waiting for him when he got home, undoubtedly doing work of her own. She found solace in the quiet of the night. She would sit at the dining table with papers scattered across the surface, highlighters uncapped, lukewarm tea cooling unforgotten.

Then there were her expressions. A furrowed brow while drafting a proposal. A lip bite accompanied by pensive tapping on the table. Her head slowly moving to the beat of the music that was playing from the speaker in the corner of the room. An exasperated sigh escaping as she typed another after-hours email. All of these things were the tiny details that Rafael loved noticing, learning, anticipating.

Finally, Rafael caved and placed a long-awaited phone call.

“Raf,” she answered, voice as tender as kiss goodbye.

“Cariño,” he replied, feeling a million times better just knowing she was on the opposite end of the line.

“When will you be home?” He could hear her trying to hide a yawn behind the scenes.

“Not any time soon.”

“Rafael, please take care of yourself,” she pleaded, yet it was to no avail. She knew this.

“I have to finish this prep, Cariño.” He could hear her eyes roll from across the line, “I bet you’re still doing work, too.”

“That’s none of your business,” she retorted, with a guilty shift in energy.

“Take care of yourself,” he repeated, “I’ll be home soon. Don’t wait up.”

“I love you.”

His heart grew full, “I love you more.”

Rafael ended the call, reclining in his leather chair. He had been overcome by love, both for his partner and for the way his life had been going lately. Despite the monstrosities he witnessed at work, everything had been going well. Even then, he enjoyed working with his coworkers; they acted as a support system, making the job a little more bearable.

Then there was his love life. For once, everything was going right. He felt loved, supported, and capable of doing the same for his partner. It had been too long since he had that privilege. He knew too well the outcomes of a loveless life and he was trying desperately to escape them. Deep down, he understood that he didn’t deserve that.

But there were times where he thought he didn’t deserve the love he had stumbled into. Never in a million years would he have thought that he would have fallen in love with the girl from the bar.

The rain had finally let up outside, encouraging a few stragglers to clear the bar. Rafael remained, nursing a scotch on the rocks, muttering to himself about the news on the television overhead. It was a bunch of nonsense about the news anchor he and the SVU squad had just charged. He couldn’t listen much longer.

A gust of wind hit as the door to Forlini’s opened; it sent shivers down Rafael’s back. Inquisitively, Rafael turned to see the person who just waltzed into the bar. Much to his surprise, it was a beautiful woman. He smirked and returned to his drink, secretly hoping that she would find her way to the bar.

She did just that, taking a seat two stools down from Rafael. He continued to watch the television, discreetly listening to her conversation with the bartender. Small talk. Nothing more, nothing less. Aside from her order--a vodka cranberry.

“Will you get a load of this idiot?” She chirped, scoffing at the story of the news anchor. Her head was tilted in Rafael’s direction.

He took a moment to answer, pausing to make sure she was directing her remarks towards him.

“He’s surely a handful,” Rafael replied.

Just then, his face appeared on the television screen. They had played his interview on the courthouse steps. He had been ambushed by the press, and even though he delivered better than most, it was not his best work. He silently thanked the Lord that the sound was off.

“Is that you?” She asked, spinning in her seat to face Rafael.

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s a shame, you look better in person,” she tisked, taking another sip of her drink.

Rafael couldn’t respond out of awe. No, that wasn’t the right word. He couldn’t respond because he was flustered. That was a first.

“Sorry, it’s the vodka talking,” she retracted, making a face that suggested she was embarrassed.

“No, I’m flattered. It’s not everyday the pretty girl at the bar tells me how attractive I look while sulking alone.”

“This is your version of sulking? Sitting at a bar surrounded by a bunch of people?”

“Perhaps,” he smirked, “Rafael,” he offered his hand.

“Y/N.”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“I was named after a comic book character, please don’t give my parents that kind of credit,” she laughed. It was contagious, infecting Rafael with an affliction that could not be easily cured. Not without an exchange of numbers and a couple of dates.

The memories of their first meeting flooded Rafael’s mind. It further distracted him from the task at hand. But how could he not think of the most impactful night of his life? Screw graduating from law school or getting promoted; nothing could top falling in love with Y/N.

Nothing could top her love. From the little notes she dropped in Rafael’s briefcase to the silent support she offered when Rafael was not strong enough to ask for it. That’s when his mind wandered even farther, thinking back to the night he decided he was in love with Y/N.

Rafael sat on the couch in a near-catatonic state. He couldn’t muster enough energy to move. His mind kept circling back to the horrors he had witnessed over the past 24 hours. In his ten years, never once had a case hit him this hard. It just cemented the callousness of man, something he had been trying to deny for so long. There was no such thing as a good person.

There was a knock at the door, a sound that should have startled him. Instead he was too lost in thought to react. He simply got up from the couch and headed to the door, only to be greeted by Y/N on the other side.

“Rafael,” she mused, before noticing the hurt behind his eyes, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She invited herself in, dropping her overnight bag by the door. Concern washed over her.

Rafael tried to speak but no words came out. He couldn’t find the right thing to say. His choices were to expose Y/N to the horrors of his job or simply keep it bottled up. His choice was the latter; he couldn’t bear the thought of unloading this grief on her.

“Raf, please talk to me,” she quietly pleaded.

He did not respond. Instead, he made his way to the couch, taking a seat in the same spot he had been sulking in for the past three hours.

Y/N followed without command. She rested her head on his shoulder, wrapping her hands gently around his arm. She placed a kiss on his cheek. It made Rafael’s heart jump, yet he still remained silent.

But that didn’t deter Y/N. She remained glued to his side, occasionally laying a gentle kiss on him or drawing circles on his bicep. She didn’t push; she knew better than that. Still, just her presence brought Rafael to his knees.

After an hour or so, Rafael could feel her heartbeat slow. He could see her eyes fluttering shut from the corners of his.

“I love you,” he whispered, hoping that she wouldn’t hear. Rafael felt guilty saying those words for the first time in such a terrible state.

“I love you more,” she replied, drifting into a slumber in his arms.

Rafael knew this could never be true.

The hands on the clock seemed to turn at an unprecedented pace, yet Rafael had gotten little done. It all seemed pointless. There had to be more to life than this. Hours spent in some poorly-lit office drinking dirt flavored coffee, waiting for his mind to stop running a marathon so he could focus. Watching people suffer everyday for some little bit of justice. Doubting the existence of good in the world with every passing moment.

But the thing he couldn’t stand was being away from the love of his life. For such a pointless endeavor. It was pointless, but it wasn’t what he wanted. Not anymore. Not with the prospect of love sitting right in front of him. In that moment, he decided to be the most spontaneous he had ever been.

He whipped open the bottom left drawer of his desk, pulled out a copy of his resignation letter, signed it, and placed it in the mailbox of his boss. He grabbed his jacket, briefcase, and cellphone before practically running to the lobby of Hogan Place. By a stroke of sheer luck, a taxi had been idling outside. Rafael got into the taxi without hesitation--or permission--and called out the address to the apartment he had shared with Y/N. Getting to their front door was his only objective.

As he settled into the taxi, he reached inside of his briefcase and felt a small item lodged at the bottom. Rafael quizzically pulled it out, determining that it was cube-shaped. As it was illuminated by the passing streetlights, he recognized it instantly. And that’s where he decided to make the best decision of his life.

“Mami, are you going to be okay if I’m gone for two weeks on vacation?” Rafael asked, changing a lightbulb in his mother’s apartment.

It was a Saturday which meant it was his day to do chores around his mother’s apartment, with much reluctance on behalf of Lucia, while Y/N went through her laminated chore checklist back at their apartment. Rafael had come straight from his office, totally forgetting his to-dos. Until Y/N reminded him--a pretty common occurrence.

“I promise, Mijo,” she said, taking his hand and guiding him down the step stool, “I’m just happy you’re taking time off.”

“Me too,” he sighed, a wave of bliss flooding his mind as he thought of going to Greece with Y/N. He’s dreamt of her sunburnt cheeks and wine-stained lips since the moment he bought the tickets.

“It seems like an awfully romantic vacation. Have you thought about asking yet?” Lucia hinted, pointing to her ring finger.

Rafael didn’t want to say ‘yes.’ He didn’t want to let her know that he had been planning it since their six-month anniversary. He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with the woman he loved.

“I’ve considered it,” he teased, “but Greece is too cliche. She wouldn’t appreciate it.”

“You underestimate her, Rafi. She loves you.”

“And I love her. More than anything.”

Lucia scoffed, furrowing her brow in disgust.

“Besides you, Mami,” he sang, pulling her in for a hug,

While in Rafael’s arms, Lucia slyly removed a small box from her pocket and slipped it into Rafael’s briefcase. It was his grandmother’s ring, the one she always talked about leaving for him. The one she made sure to mention everyday she was sick. Lucia would never forget something that important.

Rafael grabbed his belongings with haste, basically throwing $50 at the cab driver, telling him to keep the tip. He slammed the door behind him, jogging to the apartment elevators. He was too lost in thought to greet the doorman or the security guard at the front desk. He was focused on one thing and one thing only.

The elevator couldn’t come fast enough--Rafael tapped his foot anxiously, cursing the damned thing. As soon as it opened, he pushed the 8th floor button at least ten times. He felt a rush of nausea, excitement, fear run over him. The elevator dinged and Rafael ran, rummaging through his pockets for his keys.

He opened the door as fast as he could, revealing Y/N calmly making a cup of tea in the kitchen. Lamplight illuminated the living room. Her laptop was opened to a document, purple and yellow sticky notes scattered on the table. 2000s Pop Hits playing in the background. He had captured her in her natural element; he was witnessing the essence of Y/N.

“Baby, it’s midnight,” he spoke, calmer than he had been all day.

“I know, but I was in the zone. I thought you wouldn’t be home tonight,” she answered, walking over to place a kiss on his lips, before strolling back to the kitchen to stop the whistling kettle.

Rafael’s heart was beating out of his chest. His hands were shaking, mind racing. This was it. This felt right.

“Y/N?”

“What’s up, babe?” She gently blew on her tea to cool it down.

“I quit my job today.”

Y/N almost did a spit, “I’m sorry, what?” She exclaimed.

“I couldn’t do it anymore. It broke me, Y/N.” He sighed, walking to her side, “There are better things in life than case briefs and court.”

Y/N was shocked but supportive, “Well, I’m glad you’re finally free. Why don’t you get ready for bed and sleep for the first time in a decade?” She laughed, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“There’s one more thing,” Rafael said, reaching into his pocket and for the emerald box that housed his grandmother’s ring,

Rafael expected the words to escape him; he hadn’t prepared anything in the taxi. These weren’t summations, he needed guidance.

But that didn’t stop him.

“Y/N, you made me realize that I don’t want to live my life circling the drain and going through the motions. You have brought color to my black and white life. The joy you bring me everyday is immeasurable. Every second I spend away from you makes me feel like the world is ending. I can’t live without you, Y/N. That’s why I’m asking you-” Rafael began to bend his knee before Y/N cut him off.

“Yes! You don’t even have to ask. Yes, yes, yes!” She exclaimed, a tear already sliding down her cheek.

Rafael pulled out his grandmother’s golden ring from the box and slipped it on Y/N’s finger with extra care, as if she was made of glass. Tears had formed in his eyes as well, seeing the ring that reminded him so much of the other most important lady in his life. The most romantic person he had ever met.

“I love you, Y/N. I wish I could have given you a better proposal, but I couldn’t wait,” he chuckled, once again admiring how well the ring hugged her fingers.

“If you waited any longer, I was going to ask you,” she laughed, kissing him again and again. “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered, placing a kiss on Rafael’s neck.

#rafael barba imagine #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #barba #loml #imagine #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu imagine #law and order special victims unit imagine

110 notes · View notes

favefandomimagines · 4 years ago

Text

The Girl He Told Her Not To Worry About (j.m.)

Summary: the rumor mill is in full swing on the outer banks.

AN: took a quick break from soul surfer and decided to post something i’ve had in my drafts for a hot minute. i promise chapter 8 is coming soon!! xx

The Outer Banks never felt like a small island to most. It certainly didn’t to the Pogues 90% of the time. And it didn’t to you either.

As a Kook, it was normal to feel like the Outer Banks was keeping you from living a fabulous adventure. But everyday was an adventure to you when you were with your friends and your spontaneous boyfriend.

You had known John B, Pope and JJ as long as you’ve known Kiara. You, her and Sarah Cameron were all friends once upon a time. But then battle lines were drawn and you were forced to pick a side. And that side was Sarah’s. But you always loved Kiara and soon your friendship was rekindled. Way sooner than hers and Sarah’s.

However, when it comes to rumors, the Outer Banks was the smallest of towns. Rumors and information spread like wildfire amongst Figure 8 and the Cut. Which is how you and Sarah ended up storming to the Chateau, a fire in your eyes as all you saw was red.

Half of your ‘friends’ have been texting you all day, sending you the same picture that had somehow started circulating around the island. A picture of JJ and Kiara kissing each other on the beach at night.

Of course you were sad. You were devastated. But your anger took over your sadness for just a short while. Sarah was just as angry because why hadn’t John B put a stop do this? Did John B even know? She thought Kiara was different but she was being proved wrong.

The two of you entered the small home to see the Pogues all sitting on the couch. “Hey, baby, I didn’t know you were-” JJ started before you cut him. “Shut up, JJ.” You sneered. “What?” He questioned, taken aback by your tone.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? Seriously, do I look that dumb to you?” You snapped. “Find out what?” Kiara asked. “That you’re a backstabbing bitch, Kiara.” You yelled.

No one had ever heard you call Kiara by her real name. She was always Kie to you and you always found it weird whenever someone except for her parents called her Kiara.

“Whoa what are you talking about, Y/N?” John B asked. “They’ve been screwing around behind my back. All the times you both were coincidentally busy at the same time. Kiara was no where to be found and JJ was AWOL.” You answered. “Half of the fucking island got that stupid picture of the two of you.” You added.

John B and Pope looked at their two friends, both surprised at what they were hearing.

“Was this payback for Sarah’s stupid birthday party? You thought now I was friends with your friends good payback would be to sleep with my boyfriend?” You questioned. “No,” Kiara started, not knowing where you were getting this information from.

“Y/N,” JJ started trying to reach out for you. “You told me I had nothing to worry about.” You told him. By that point, once you looked at him, the anger had completely melted away. “I-I came to you, worried out of my mind about you and her and you told me I didn’t have to worry. That you were just friends. You are a liar. Because this picture looks like a little more than friends to me.” You finished, the tears rolling down your cheeks as you shoved the printed off picture into his chest.

Sarah walked over to you and grabbed your hand pulling you towards the door. “Please, Y/N.” JJ begged. “Please just stay away from me.” You cried before Sarah pulled you away from the scene.

The Chateau fell silent, no one being able to find the words to break the silence.

JJ slowly looked down at the picture in his hands and furrowed his eyebrows. “What is it?” Pope asked. “This picture is from two years ago. That time we got too drunk and kissed thinking we’d like it. Before the no Pogue on Pogue macking rule.” JJ explained.

“And Y/N wouldn’t know that because she was still hanging around with the Kooks.” John B assumed. “Who would do this?” Kiara asked. Clearly she was distraught that her best friend thought she was sleeping with her boyfriend.

After about a week of radio silence from both you and Sarah, the Pogues decided to make the trip to Figure 8 and try to get the story from Sarah. Sarah was closest to you out of the group so they knew she’d have more of an answer.

JJ was a mess. The way you looked at him before you left was something he wished he could get out of his head. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you and yet he did without even having done anything. He told himself he’d never hurt you the second you agreed to be his girlfriend. He didn’t want to end up like his dad.

They arrived at Tanny Hill, all of them clearly feeling out of place. They knocked on the door and were met by the infamous figure of Rafe Cameron.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked. “Where’s Sarah?” John B asked. “Upstairs. Oh and uh, I heard about you and Y/N, Maybank. You’re dumber than I thought.” He answered.

JJ clenched his jaw before John B pushed past him. “Tell Y/N I say hi.” Rafe called. The group marched up the stairs and followed John B in the direction of Sarah’s room.

John B knocked and heard Sarah instruct them to come in. “What are you guys doing here?” She asked crossing her arms over her chest. “The picture of JJ and Kie is old. From two years ago. I don’t know who got it or who sent it around but we think they did it to hurt Y/N.” Pope explained.

“You better be 100% positive. You didn’t see her face when she got that text. I’ve known her for 10 years and never once have I seen her look so, broken.” Sarah said. “What did she say?” JJ finally spoke.

Sarah looked at him before answering. “Nothing. She didn’t say anything. She just cried.” She answered. JJ closed his eyes momentarily, hating himself even more for not making more of an effort to set the record straight.

“I should’ve tried harder.” He spoke. “She wouldn’t think I cheated on her if I would’ve tried harder to explain to her what really happened.” He added. “You know how she gets. Once she hears one thing no amount of proof can prove otherwise. Like anytime she brings up a conspiracy theory.” John B told him.

“She’s at the beach. Teaching surfing lessons. If you really wanna set the record straight, you’ll find her there.” Sarah said.

JJ took Sarah’s advice and headed to the beach shortly after the group left Tanny Hill.

You were just about done with teaching surfing lessons. You were rewaxing your board for your day off tomorrow when you felt like someone was staring at you.

JJ spotted you kneeling in the sand, wind blowing your hair to one side, still in your swimsuit as you waxed your surfboard. You looked up and made eye contact with him which you quickly regretted and he could tell.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and walked towards you. You could sense he was approaching you which was why you didn’t bother to stop your task.

“Hey.” He started. You barely looked up at him but stopped waxing the board. “There has clearly been a huge misunderstanding. That picture you got sent was from two years ago.” JJ said. “Before I met you and way before we even started dating. Kie and I were really drunk and we thought we would see what it felt like to kiss and it was wrong and weird and it felt like I was kissing a relative. I don’t know who sent you that picture or why they’d want to do that, but I would never cheat on you. The last thing I could ever think about doing is cheating on you. I love you too much to do that.” He finished.

You were silent and listened to what he had to say before you stood up. JJ wanted to be serious so he did his best not to let his eyes wander your figure.

“Do you swear to me it was an old photo? This isn’t just you covering your ass?” You questioned. “I swear. On everything good in my life, I swear that it’s an old picture.” He answered.

You nodded your head slowly and looked up at him. “I’m sorry for what I said. Calling you a liar. You’ve never lied to me before. Except for that time when you told me you saw a shark just to freak me out.” You said.

JJ laughed lightly as he took your hands. “You know I love you right?” He asked. “I love you too.” You replied.

“Can I kiss you now? Not being able to do that has been the worst form of torture on the planet.” JJ asked.

You laughed at him before practically launching yourself at him and pressed your lips against his.

#imagine #imagines #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #kiara carrera #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron #rudy pankow #john b routledge #sarah cameron #pope heyward #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow imagine

510 notes · View notes

satan-ruler-of-hells · 4 years ago

Text

The Only Exception

Am I capable of writing anything fluffy without angst? No I don’t believe I am. Anyway here’s some Ushijima love! A big thank you to Noodles and Pies whom without this story would never have left drafts. You guys have no idea how much I appreciate you.

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, this isn’t exactly fluffy so prepare yourself and I hope you enjoy!

You'd sworn to yourself at an early age that you'd never fall in love. After watching your mother and father fight for years until the birth of your sister and your father having an affair every 2 years or so, you had decided it wasn't worth it. Then you’d met her and she made you think maybe love could be something more, something beautiful. But you were vividly reminded why you kept those walls up, why you guarded your heart so closely.

You were reminded again a few years later, after finding out that all those late nights that kept your father at “work” and all those odd jobs were actually another affair. It wasn’t the first time, not by a long shot but you were old enough now to realize not only what he had done to your mother but to you as well. While he was out “living his life” and “working late” you were left at home to raise your sister. A position you’d been forced to take that was met with resistance and hatred from the very one you’d done your best to take care of while still being a kid yourself.

Your mother, who had been working the graveyard shift, had done her best with what she had, but at her age pulling all nighters wasn't exactly an easy feat. You didn't blame her, you couldn’t. Not when you'd seen her and held her as she cried when she felt she had failed you as a parent and the guilt when she had to take a nap just so she could function. Your heart ached for her and raged at him. You’d seen what love could do to someone first hand and decided with renowned resolution that you wanted nothing to do with it.

That’s why starting at Shiratorizawa on a cheerleading scholarship, didn’t worry you. While your team would gush and rave about all the attractive men on the boys volleyball team you couldn't care less. Nice to look at, yet dangerous to touch, like a fire, give it the chance and it would burn you alive.

That didn't stop you from making friends though, you quickly found peace with Tendou Satori, the infamous “Guess-Monster” whose most monstrous trait in your opinion was that he loved too hard. Despite what meeting the red head led to, which at the start was the worst thing that could ever happen, you'd thank him for this one day. He introduced you to his best friend and dorm mate Ushijima Wakatoshi, who before getting close to Tendou was just another member of the volleyball team.

You enjoyed his company, where Tendou was as loud and bright as the sun, Ushijima was quiet and calm like the moon. A perfect balance of excitement and security, spontaneity and familiarity. You would grow just as close to Ushijima as you had Tendou, if not closer. Slowly you’d let them in, not fully, but not at arms length either, within the year, they became people you relied on, your chosen family. The next year only furthered those feelings, cementing them a place in your life for better or for worse.

One night as the three of you had a sleepover, which was pretty much a weekly occurrence since the middle of second year, you and Ushijima stayed up for hours. The usually quiet and stoic man opened up to you, telling you his story. How he watched his parents slowly fall out of love, the way that had altered his views on life at a young age, and how his mother had wanted to change his left handedness, but at his fathers insistence, ultimately relented and the story his father had told him that shaped him into the player, and man he was today.

In turn you told him everything you had kept to yourself for so long. From the way you'd grown up, to the grand reveal your father had given you, the truth on how everything had actually affected you. How you had become your family's backbone, that while your mother and sister broke down, you had held strong, giving them the time to grieve that you'd never had. Emptying your soul to him in a way you never thought yourself capable of, but you know what they say about conversations after midnight.

You two never brought up what you’d spoken of that night but something in your relationship had immeasurably shifted. You’d find yourself seeking his presence, even when you were surrounded by your friends and team. You, of course still spent most of your free time with Tendou, who’d become your brother in all ways but one, which usually meant Ushijima as well, but you found yourself having more alone time with him. Not that either of you minded, you typically used this time to finish your homework in peace ( you loved Tendou, truly, but he had nothing that even resembled an attention span for anything other than volleyball and the latest edition of Shonen Jump).

On the weekends you two would find yourselves just walking around the city, you talking about everything that had gone on in the past week and him listening intently chiming in at the appropriate intervals, occasionally providing advice or just a different perspective on any predicaments you may have ended up in. These sessions ended as they usually did, with a hug but you didn’t notice, not consciously anyway, that they would linger longer and longer as time went on, and that saying goodnight was harder. If you did, you would just brush the thought aside because of course it sucked that he had to go, he was one of your closest friends, it was only natural.

You probably could’ve lived in your little bubble of denial the rest of your life if not for Tendou who, bless his heart, was just trying to help.

“When were you going to tell me about you and Ushijima?” he’d asked one day out of the blue.

“What do you mean?” You looked over at him from your place on the floor, eyes borrowed in confusion.

“I mean like when were you going to tell me you liked him?”

You laughed, ignoring the way your chest tightened, “You’re seeing things Tendou, nothing is going on between me and Ushi. we’re friends just like you and me, like we've always been.” The red head looked at you for a moment, almost like he was contemplating something.

“Y/N, I love you darling, truly I do, but you are full of shit. Either tell him how you feel or let him go, you’re my friend but so is he. Neither of you deserve to have your heart broken.”

“You can’t break something that was never whole to begin with, besides, like I told you, there's nothing going on.” You changed the subject quickly after that trying to ignore the nagging voice in your head that agreed with Tendou. But the door had already been opened, and deep down, you knew he was right.

It was like a switch flipped in your mind, the late night calls and texts, the sleepless nights you spent helping him study and practicing with him. The way your heart would flutter when his hand would accidentally brush yours and the way you’d found yourself melting into his embrace when he would hug you. For a fleeting moment you were elated, but just as quickly it was replaced with dread, anxiety, and fear. You couldn’t- no you wouldn’t allow yourself to admit it.

You would like to convince yourself that you were not ignoring Ushijima, that you were just busy. Exams were coming up so you had to study, and if it just so happened that you remember this fact every time he entered the room well it was just a coincidence. You started avoiding Tendou as well, the look in his eyes, a feeling you couldn’t, and frankly didn't want to name made you feel worse and there was nothing he could say that would change your mind.

Everything was going perfectly according to plan, ignore Ushijima and Tendou until graduation and then you’d be off the college, Tendou to Paris and Ushijima would be a pro volleyball player like he had always wanted. The distance would hurt, but the alternative in your mind was much, much worse. At least for about a week, you should've known your luck wouldn't hold out as when you got back to your dorm, Ushijima was waiting for you.

And there you have it folks! And yes there will be a part 2 so please don’t come for me with pitchforks and torches.

Taglist: @pies-writes-and-more @thisnoodlewritesao3

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #ushijima x y/n #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you

67 notes · View notes