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#i kinda disappeared off of tumblr without saying anything. sorry about that.
seikoary · 1 year
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zukuist · 3 years
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“don’t kiss me, my lips are chapped”
[hcs]
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THANK YOU FOR 2K ON TUMBLR DOT COM 😎💃
INCLUDES: several characters.
FANDOM/S: 僕のヘロアカデミア. // boku no hero academia [bnha]
your name is shortened to y/n, gender neutral reader, chapped lips
ANYTHING TO BE CAUTIOUS OF?: chapped lips 😔 that is the warning.
SIDE NOTE: thank you all for 2,000 followers— like what the heck? that’s so many people 🤭😟 this is my thanks, basically (also let’s not talk about me disappearing for 30+ days 😭 ik it’s a lot but schools been busy 😾)
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TODOROKI SHŌTO ||
“don’t kiss me, my lips are chapped.”
super, super confused.
i mean.. dude doesn’t have plump, juicy, soft and hydrated lips all the time (you can all blame his quirk for that) so, if he cared about your dehydrated lips, that’d be highly hypocritical of him; no kidding.
it was a tough one, trying to get to the kissing stage with lover boy, but once you guys overcame the worries he had, he couldn’t stop. not now, not ever. can’t go through his day without at least two kisses from you. if shōto could, he’d be kissing you 24/7. so, when you stopped him from pulling your lips onto his, he was confused; head tilted in confusion like a little puppy, lip carved into a frown and everything. the confusion only increased when the reason was because your lips were chapped, and also because you “didn’t want him to be kissing my cracked, desert lips.” newflash! he. doesn’t. care. probably will never care too. after the difficulties of getting to this stage, he’ll eliminate any reasonable obstacles.
“why does it matter? i don’t care about that stuff. just give me my kiss.”
it is advised to give what the man demands for
|| MIDORIYA IZUKU
“izuku, you can’t kiss me right now”
kinda sad
he looks around to check for any valid reason for your rejection. he sees no bystanders. meaning, the both of you are in the clear. so, why would you reject his offer for a kiss?
“why?” he asks. izuku tries to conceal the sadness in his round, aspiring green eyes, and in his voice. he sounds like a kicked puppy, and he definitely looks like one too. that’s all swiped away when you tell him that your “lips are chapped.” big sigh of relief on his end. “oh,” that lifts some tension off his shoulders, if you didn’t want to kiss him for any other reason, he would’ve respected that, but.. your lips are just chapped. so, he can’t find himself from really caring. the issue has an easy fix to it (not that it desperately needed one). and either way, i can’t really say fully with my chest that his lips are moisturized every hour of the day.
grabbing a hold of your wrist, he pulls you in, “y/n, please?” he pleads with the best puppy dog eyes he has to offer
and it works, you give in; despite your worries. he doesn’t seem to be affected by your chapped lips though.
BAKUGŌ KATSUKI ||
“i’m sorry ‘tsuki, but not now. not the best conditions to do so.”
annoyed.
but for real, when is he actually not annoyed? anyway, at first katsuki thought he was the problem. he’s sweaty at nature, so he should at least be understanding if you don’t want to be so close in distance with him. but, then you told him that he wasn’t the problem, and it’s your lips that’s the issue
so now he’s annoyed, but a little relieved to know that he’s not pressuring you to kiss him. thinks you’re being dramatic about these so called conditions. like, what is this? a contract agreement? “so what?” he clicks his tongue, looking around to see if there’s anyone to see (not that people are a problem anyway. he’s just knows the possibility of you being cautious.) so, he tries to assure you “it’s nothing i can’t handle. you’re making a big deal out of this.” the blond knows he’s unsuccessful at that, when he sees you averting your gaze; a nervous tick. he’s annoyed that you think that this is an issue for him, but he has his solutions. asks you to open your mouth, and when you do so, he coats his finger in your spit 😦 then proceeds to smear it all over your lips.
“there. all better. now give me what you fuckin’ owe.”
you told him that was a little disgusting, bashfully remarking that he could’ve just asked you to wet your lips, but he was going to kiss you anyway 🤷 he has a point.
|| SHINSŌ HITOSHI
“you can’t, and it’s for your own good ‘toshi.”
predicted it.
getting past the confusion, i think hitoshi would see this happening, and he’d be unintentionallu prepared for it. looks at people’s mouths a lot when he needs to use his quirk. except, his does that because it’s necessary and not because he wants to (like how he is with you.)
with that being said, he has probably seen a lot of chapped lips. though, he never comments on it, because his lips aren’t the smoothest things out there either. due to his lack of attention regarding lip care, you kindly decided to leave your chapstick in his posession (he ended up never returning it. the opportunity never came up.). hitoshi’s just so glad he kept it so closely though, because the situation was in his favor, when you rejected him of a kiss, all thanks to your chapped lips. he honestly would’ve laughed from the start, if this initial rejection didn’t make his heart drop down to his ass. hitoshi shrugs off the last percentages of his panic, lips tugging into a very recognizable grin, “‘s not a big deal. i’m no better, but i have the solution.” he says, whipping out your lipbalm from his pocket. popping off the cap
after (closely) applying the balm to your lips, he pulls you even closer. “there. all done. you’re gonna give me what is due, right?”
your heart practically swooned, and from that point on, chapped lips were never an issue.
KIRISHIMA EIJIRŌ ||
“nope, nope. you’ll thank me later.”
would reassure you
honestly, all of them would reassure you, but eijirō does it the most, y’know? anyways, do insecurities even exist anymore, if you’re dating eijirō kirishima? 🤔
though he’d be a little sad at your rejection, he’d hide it behind a gentle smile. ever since his early teens, his irrational fear was always accidentally activating his quirk while he was giving the love of his life a kiss. so, eijirō has his own fair share of worries. which explains his ability in being very understanding, when you tell him that you didn’t want to give him a kiss, due to your cracked, dehydrated lips. he doesn’t see an issue with it, but eijirō wouldn’t disregard your worries at all. if anything, he’d reveal his own insecurities, which shows some relatability. “i’m no better!” he says with a smile that could stop hearts, “if yours are chapped, then what are exactly mine called?” your boyfriend makes you feel comfortable, by revealing his long time insecurities. he’d even tell you about a silly nightmare he has when he was 12, when he kissed his celebrity crush, and grew rocks for lips 🕴
his heart melts upon hearing laughter. though it would be quite embarrassing, if he shared this rather ridiculous nightmare to his peers, it’s all worth it, when you allow him to kiss you. “that’s more like it! there’s no need to feel worried. i also have chapped lips!”
you thank him for his understanding later, but he insists that it’s only second nature, as your boyfriend.
|| KAMINARI DENKI
“denki, denki! i will literally break up, if you kiss me right now.”
lowkey highkey desperate
it sounds kind of bad, but it’s true anyway, denki’s always desperate to kiss you, no matter how down bad he sounds.
he does not, and will never want to break up with you. he raises his hands, showing he has no ill intent, and steps back “w-what’s this all about?” he pouts, hands sliding up and down your shoulders. though he’s kind of sad that you’ve said no to his kiss in that way, he’s more desperate to know the reason behind your reluctance and rejection. he’s relieved when you say the breaking up part was simply an exaggeration, but he’s left even more confused when you say it’s because of your chapped lips (because his lips aren’t the softest either) but you never seemed to care, so why should he? denki’s exaggerated reaction to that seemed to be enough to distract you of your worries, and he’s sincerely glad that he got you to laugh, but he’s really desperate. (he does not gaf)
he pulls you in, tickling you to distract you of your concerns. he’s smiling like a fool as he prepares for a kiss “will you please please please give me a kiss? i honestly do not care about your “desert-y” lips.”
you realize how truly desperate your boyfriend is for a kiss. so with that, you give into denki’s desires of one, laughter bubbling from your lips when he sighs in relief.
TOGATA MIRIO ||
“mirio- please, can you- can you not do that?”
amused.
he finds it endearing, to be honest. mirio would still respect your wishes, if you didn’t want to kiss him (it’d be the absolute bare minimum anyway), but if it’s for that reason? he finds it cute.
“oh? why?” he says, sounding as sad as he could. but, his expression would immediately contradict himself. his amusement only grows when you stumble to gather, and justify your reasons. saying that your lips aren’t in the most “desirable” state, and that he’d “sincerely hate the feeling” as if it was possible to hate being around you in the first place. mirio laughs at these reasons, and the fact that you keep on pressing this on him, as if it were factual. you honestly think he’d just poking fun at you, for caring about this, and for even warning him about kissing you while your lips are chapped, but he’s not. he’s simply amused. he was at first, just teasing you, but now he’s just amused because of this revelation.
“i’m so lucky that you care about my well being so much,” he shows off that signature smile of his, “but, you being ‘undesirable’ is just not possible.”
though yes, he’s amused. but, he said that part so seriously ??? to the point that resisting him is just impossible.
|| AIZAWA SHŌTA
“this- this is going to be hard to explain. but, you just can’t”
simply exhausted
doesn’t even need to ask why you said no, because he somewhat already knows why. is it his s/o hunch? yes.
like every other person in this post, he’d respect your wishes if you didn’t want one. that is, if your reason was valid, and “having chapped lips” just doesn’t sound valid to him, at all. “if you were going to scare me shitless for three seconds, at least make the reason valid” is what he thinks about the matter. (not that your insecurities aren’t valid but.. he sees no issue.) shouta’s stares at you, like he’s trying to say “really? is that all? is that why you’re trying to reject me of a kiss i’m officially entitled to?” and you recognise that look he’s giving you. shouta’s simply exhausted, but not at you, or your antics, but, because you’re literally rejecting him of the things that make him energised (also known as, your kisses.) on top of that, he’s a pro hero, thirty one, and also happens to be the unofficial dad of 22 kids. so, chapped lips are nothing on him. (plus, his lips aren’t always moisturised. so even if he wanted to say something, he couldn’t say he’s any better.)
“you know, that’s really not a concern of mine.” he says, running his hand through his jet black hair, “you don’t complain about my scruff. so, chapped lips? they’re really nothing, c’mon now.”
but, if you were really insecure about your chapped lips, he would do everything in his power (despite his fatigue) to reassure you. and, his nonchalance surely did the trick.
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zukuist 2021 ™️, bnha|mha ; 僕のヘロアカダミアン belongs to horikoshi kohei. do not repost and/or steal ❕
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luxeavenger · 3 years
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Thank You For The Tragedy. I Need It For My Art [Kurt Cobain]
Part 2: You're The Queen Of My Heart
Part 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x female!reader Summary: You find out exactly what happened with Peggy Carter
Warnings: Weight loss/talk of weight loss, talk of food/eating, talk of regaining lost weight, fighting, canon-typical violence, wounds/wound care, polyamorous relationship, needy Bucky (this is definitely a warning), vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), deep throating, face fucking, analingus, anal fingering, anal sex, choking, name calling (slut—affectionate), pet names
18+ ONLY PLEASE! MINORS DNI. If you hit Keep Reading you agree that you're 18 or older.
I do not consent to having my work copied, translated, or posted on any other site. The ONLY places my work should appear are@luxeavenger on Tumblr and Ao3
Backstage Pass Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-fi
Please reblog if you enjoy!
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| Part 1 |
You’re somewhere in Montana when Clint and Nat drag you to Denny’s after a show. It’s the longest you’ve been out of the bus since everything happened five days ago. You’ve been hiding too much, and turning down meals, so they stuff you full of food: pancakes with syrup and whipped cream, hash browns, sausage, bacon. They shove dishes at you until you beg them to stop. They scarf down everything you don’t finish.
On the way back to the bus they find a dollar store that’s open all night. Clint and Nat want you to come with them, but you tell them to go on without you and you head back to the RV. The lights are all out when you get back, so you walk in without engaging your new habit of checking for Steve or Bucky first.
You open the door and flip the overhead light on, and let out a yelp, because Bucky is sitting on the couch with an acoustic guitar on his lap. For a fleeting instant you consider leaving, but then you take in how haggard he looks. He’s got purple circles under his eyes, his hair hangs in greasy clumps, and he’s lost weight. The super soldier serum jacked their metabolism way up, and they have to eat a lot just to maintain their weight. You can tell just by how thin he looks that he hasn’t been taking care of himself.
“You don’t have to go,” he says quietly, moving slowly like he’s trying not to spook you, “I’ll leave. Just gimme a minute to grab-”
“I didn’t know you played guitar,” you interrupt softly.
He looks down at his lap and absently plucks out a few bars of an old Pearl Jam song called Jeremy. “Not as good as Steve, but…” he trails off. “Look, I’m really sorry about what happened. I told Steve she was trouble, and I didn’t want to see her.” He says it all in a rush, and when he looks up at you tears are pooling against his bottom lid. “And I was right.” He blinks and a shimmering drop slips past his eyelid and disappears in his beard. “Because she might have cost us the best thing that ever happened to us,” he finishes from behind a curtain of hair.
You sigh and sit down on the steps. “Bucky, look at me,” he’s full-on crying when he tilts his head up, eyes red, cheeks shiny with moisture. “What the fuck happened? Clint told me she’s your ex, so why the fuck were you guys getting all cozy with her that night? I thought you loved me. You told me-”
He tosses the guitar aside unceremoniously, and slides off the couch to his knees. He crawls toward you, stopping halfway. “Jesus christ, Y/N, we do. More than anything. You’re everything to us. This week has been hell without you. Please believe me.”
You’ve got tears skating down your cheeks now, “Then tell me what happened, Buck.”
He sags with the relief of finally being able to speak to you again. “Peggy is our ex. But, the truth is, she’s more Steve’s ex than mine. We met her in Cali back when we were getting the band together. Steve and I were a couple by then, but we met her and we both kinda started to fall for her. It took a few weeks for it to come up, but we finally talked abut it, and we were both open the idea of a polyamorous-type situation.”
He sits back on his heels and looks at his hands, “Peggy knew we were together when we met. She knew we were a package deal. We talked to her about it, and she agreed to date both of us. She said she was fine with it. She acted like she was fine with it. We-”
He lets out a shuddering breath, and a muscle in his jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth together. “We fell in love with her. We fucking fell hard for her. Then, just when I thought everything was going great, she tells us it’s not working for her. That she’s only interested in Steve. That it was always just Steve she was after. She went along with dating me because Steve and I were inseparable.”
You feel sick to your stomach at how someone could dismiss Bucky so callously.
“She said-” he swallows hard, and you interrupt him,
“Bucky, you don’t have to tell me this if it’s too much.”
“No. I want you to know who she is, and what she did to us, because I want you to know that she is nothing to us anymore. And I want you to understand why. Just, please don’t leave, okay?”
You nod and his relief is palpable. He shuffles forward, closing the distance between you a little more.
“She told me I was too rough around the edges for her. That I was too hard, too dark. I had pretty bad PTSD then, and I had nightmares. I—uh, I’d wake up screaming sometimes. She didn’t like that I had been a soldier, even though she didn’t mind that Steve had been one too. And she hated that I was an amputee, that I wasn’t ‘whole’ anymore. Shit, she even hated how my prosthetic arm looked, and the way people stared at me because of it. She said it was dangerous, and she was scared of it—of me—thought I’d hurt her with it. She didn’t like how much I meant to Steve, or that he was doing something as stupid and useless as starting a band with me.
“She was dead set on dividing us. Separating us. She wanted him to be a normal, hetero, straight-laced, nine-to-five, husband, kids, and minivan kind of man.”
Hearing this makes you furious. This time you crawl over to Bucky, and take his hands in yours, rubbing his palms softly with your thumbs. Gently you tell him, “You aren’t any of those things, Buck. You’re kind, and caring. You’re protective of everyone on this bus. You’re wicked smart, incredibly funny, and you are easily one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met. You take care of all of us. You always get Clint the root beer he likes when you run to the store, even when he forgets to ask for it. When Natasha is sad you let her tickle you until she’s laughing hard enough to pull a muscle. You help Scott change his damn hair color every two weeks when he can’t make up his mind what color he wants it to be. You’re so gentle and loving with Alpine, and she adores you so much she’d follow you anywhere. And jesus Buck, you’re everything to Steve and I. I’ve never had someone that cared for me the way you do, who loved me so wholly and completely, not my parents, not my friends, not people I was dating. You and Steve make me happier than I ever thought I could be. And Peggy is an asshole of mythic proportions if she can’t see that.”
He lets his head drop again, “She broke my heart. I felt completely worthless. I told Steve to go. To leave me. To go and be happy with her, and stop wasting his time with me. He refused. Said there was no Steve without Bucky. It was him and me until the end of the line. And that was that. He broke up with her, and we picked up the pieces and moved on.
“Then she shows up to the venue on the night of the last Cali show. She claimed she just wanted to talk. Said she wanted to make amends for what she did to us, but especially for what she did to me. I didn’t want to hear it. I’ve had enough of Peggy Carter’s shit to last several lifetimes, but Steve talked me into it. Said clearing the air would be a good thing.
“Well, she showed up and starts acting like an ass as soon as we’re offstage. We had to drag her back to the green room. That’s the only reason I even touched her in the first place. Once we got there she starts hanging off Steve like the breakup never happened. She tried to sweet talk him into taking her back, kept snuggling up to him like it was going to make him change his mind. She didn’t say a word of apology like she claimed she wanted to. Didn’t so much as look my way once. It was just a ploy to get Steve to see her, because she knew there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d talk to her any other way.
“Well, Stevie told her to fuck off. That he didn’t want anything to do with her after the first breakup, and he sure as fuck didn’t want any part of her now. She started throwing a tantrum. And, knowing how toxic she is, rather than get into it with her, we left her there for arena security to deal with, and we went to a bar around the corner.
“I'm sorry we didn’t tell you that. We should have stopped by the bus, or called, or texted, we shoulda let you know what happened. She got us both fucked in the head, and the only thing we could think to do was to get drunk.”
You interrupt him, “I didn’t even know you guys could get drunk.”
He laughs softly, “It cost us almost five hundred dollars to do the job, and I’m pretty sure that poor bartender is going to have nightmares for the rest of his natural life, but, yeah, we got drunk. Then when we came home, we realized what that little talk with Peggy cost us.”
“Almost,” you say quietly. “Almost cost you.”
His ocean eyes are drowning in tears when they snap up to meet yours, “Does that mean… are you staying?” His voice breaks on the last word, and it nearly rips your chest open to hear it.
You fling yourself at him, “‘M not going anywhere, Buck.”
Bucky wraps himself around you like a drowning man clinging to a life raft. He shakes with sobs, and thanks you over and over again.
After his tears subside you jiggle his shoulder to get his attention. “Bucky. Hey, when was the last time you ate a good meal?”
He shakes his head, “I don’t remember.”
“Okay, babe, I love you, but you’ve lost weight, and you need to eat. There’s a Denny’s two blocks thataway. Please go get some food. A lot of it. Oh, and on the way there’s a dollar store. Clint and Nat are there and probably raising all manner of hell. Get them out of there for me, will you?”
“You’ll still be here when I get back?”
“Yes babe. I’m not going anywhere. I’d go with you, but I need a shower. Clint and Nat spilled syrup in my lap, I think it’s in my hair too. The bottom line is: I'm sticky. I promise I’m not going anywhere, as long as you go and eat for me.”
When he stands, you notice his belt is cinched down past the holes it came with, and his jeans still hang loose on his hips.
He kisses you and you worry that he won’t do what you asked him without fussing, but eventually he lets go and heads in the direction of the Denny’s and promises to eat.
The beautiful smile he’s wearing is full of gratitude, and a comfort to you both.
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You shower, and take time to dry your hair, relishing the way your body feels loose with a reduction of the tension that’s been singing through your muscles for the past five days.
When you step out of the bathroom you’re hit by the smell of whiskey, and the copper-penny tang of blood.
Steve’s sitting on the couch, legs spread wide, elbows on knees, hands clenched together. His head hangs down between his shoulders, and his honey-blonde fauxhawk is messy with wet splashes of crimson.
“Steve,” you gasp.
He looks up at you, and you feel the world tilt under your feet.
Steve’s face is a mask of bruises, swelling, and blood. Both eyes are ringed with aubergine bruises, and there’s a deep gash intersecting one eyebrow. His right cheek bears a series of directional scratches, as if his cheek had been drug across gravel. His lips are split in several places, and his nose looks broken. There’s a notch missing out of one ear, like a stray cat.
“Jesus, what the fuck happened to you?”
“I, uh, got jumped,” his voice is thick and wet, like something’s broken inside of him too.
“By what? A semi truck?” He shakes his head. “Steve, there’s not a person on this planet whose ass you can’t kick. So, I’ll ask again, what. the. fuck. happened?”
“Got jumped,” he repeats stubbornly.
“Bullshit.”
He sighs wetly, “Seven guys.”
“You can take seven guys without getting this beat up, Steve.”
He rises and walks to the sink, holding his left arm against his ribs, and limping heavily on his left leg, and spits blood into the drain. He leans against the counter, looking down at Alpine when she starts winding through his legs. He looks up at you again and his blue eyes are empty. Clearing his throat he spits again, and, with a stronger voice, says, “I let them beat me up.”
“Come again?”
“I said I let them beat me up. I’ll be fine. I just need Bucky to pop my shoulder back in place. If he’ll even speak to me, that is.”
“Why the fuck would you let someone beat you up?”
He sighs and sits down on the couch again. “Did you talk to Bucky yet?” You give him an affirmative. “Did he tell you what happened?” You nod. “Well, he never wanted to talk to Peggy in the first place, but I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I pushed and pushed until he agreed, because I thought it would be good to clear the air. But you know how that went, obviously. So the night you quit speaking to us, he quit speaking to me. He started sleeping on the couch. The only thing he’s said to me all week is that he noticed you were coming to the shows again, and that we should add the All Apologies cover to the set. For you.”
He sits back with a pained grunt, but you see the splits are already starting to heal. “Losing both of you is killing me. I literally feel dead inside,” he croaks, his voice breaking as his eyes fill with tears. “I can’t feel anything except this soul-sucking hopelessness. Then the first night we were in Seattle, I ran into a bunch of drunk assholes in an alley, and they wanted to start shit, so I just… I just kinda laid down, and let them. It was the first time since I fucked up everyone’s life that I felt something. It’s not exactly something I’m proud of, but I just wanted to not feel dead inside for a little while.”
“Steve, I-” you start, but he interrupts you.
“I’m so sorry,” he whimpers. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I hurt the two people I love most in the world over some woman that doesn’t even matter to me anymore. I was an asshole, I hurt Bucky, pushed him into doing something he didn’t want to do, and I hurt you, and I’m sorry. If you and Bucky will let me, I’ll never stop trying to make it up to you.”
You sigh and step beside him, laying your hand on the shoulder that isn’t dislocated. “Oh Stevie,” you sigh, “what am I going to do with you?”
He wraps his good arm around your waist and buries his face in your hip, “Just please don’t leave me.” His voice cracks, and you can feel warm tears smearing over the bare skin between your shorts and shirt.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise, stroking over his neck.
He breaks down then. Sobbing against your hip, saying I’m sorry again and again. You let him go on for a few minutes, then shake him out of it. His blue eyes are wet and sad when he looks up at you. “I know you heal fast, Steve, but some of this may take awhile,” you gesture to the pie-slice notch that was taken out of his ear, “so why don’t you let me clean you up while we wait for Bucky to fix your shoulder?” He nods.
The first aid kit in the RV is basically a Care Bears lunchbox, with some alcohol, gauze, tape, and a ridiculous amount of cartoon character band aids that Clint keeps stealing more of everywhere he goes. You use all of the gauze and most of the tape on his ear, leaving nothing for the rest of his wounds, so when Bucky comes back with Clint, and Nat in tow, Steve is covered in Hello Kitty, Pokemon, and rainbow glitter band aids. Clint and Nat see you talking to Steve, then giggle and dive into their bunk with their dollar store haul. Bucky walks in and looks between you and Steve.
“Did you make up?” he asks. Then, “Shit, what happened to Steve?”
“What did you eat?” you counter with your own question.
“A five egg omelette, four pancakes, chicken and waffles, bacon, three biscuits, and a bowl of Lucky Charms.” In any other situation it would be a comedic amount of food, but for Bucky it just barely chases away the sallow tone of his skin. It would take a few days, and a lot more calories to get his weight back to normal.
“Why are you so thin, Buck?” Steve asks curiously.
“For the same reason you have cartoon character band aids plastered all over your dislocated shoulder. You’re both ridiculous,” you grumble. They at least have the decency to look chastened.
“Yes, Bucky,” you answer, “we made up. The two of you need to make up too, but Steve’s dislocated shoulder needs to be popped back into place first. And do something about his nose before it heals like that.”
It doesn’t take long for Bucky to fix Steve’s shoulder, the ball and socket joint settling into place with a meaty pop and a groan of relief from Steve. His nose, on the other hand, straightens up with a sickening crunch that had Steve cursing passionately.
With the doctoring done, Bucky plops down on the coffee table opposite Steve.
“Goddamnit, Buck,” Steve starts, scratching at the dried blood caught in the peach fuzz on the side of his head. “I’m so fucking sorry. You told me talking to her was a bad idea, and I didn’t listen. I was stupid, and an asshole, and I’m sorry I caused all this shit.”
“Can we just agree to never, ever talk to her again, for any reason?” Bucky asks. “She hasn’t brought us anything but pain, and she doesn’t want anything but to start trouble. This one here,” he points to you, “is worth more than a billion Peggy Carters combined, and I won’t lose her.”
Steve nods, “Agreed.” He holds a hand out to you, you take it and sit on the couch next to him. He strokes a thumb under his name, etched indelibly under your collarbone, “I fucked up. I hurt you, and I hurt Bucky. You are the most important people in the world to me, and I’m so goddamned sorry I almost ruined it.”
You sigh heavily, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have reacted how I did. I shouldn’t have hid. I made it worse, and I should have let you explain. Seeing her curled up next to you—touching you, kissing you—-it broke me, Steve.”
“I’m sorry,” he hangs his head, “I really am. I know exactly how I would have felt had the situation been reversed. Your reaction was totally justified. I can’t imagine how betrayed you felt.”
“Stevie, it’s okay. Now, I’d really love to hug you, but you’re icky,” you crinkle your nose at the blood all over him.
Then Steve smiles radiantly, and the vice clamped around your heart finally disappears. He kisses you and Bucky on top of your heads and goes to get cleaned up, peeling band aids off half-healed wounds as he goes.
Bucky offers to help you move your stuff back into the bunk, but you tell him it can wait, and you climb into the bunk that smells blissfully like the men you’ve been missing all week, dragging him behind you.
He wraps his arms around you and squeezes, burying his face in your neck, taking deep draws of your scent, filling himself with you over and over again. You turn his face to yours and press your lips together. When you part your lips and lick your way into his mouth, Bucky whimpers.
It occurs to you that, because Bucky’s been sleeping on the couch, both of these boys have been touch-starved all week. While you’ve had the constant support of Clint and Nat, and lots of hugs, holding, and touch, neither Bucky nor Steve has had any of that.
“Oh, Buck,” you breathe, “I’m so sorry.”
He presses your foreheads together and shakes his head, whispering against your lips, “‘s okay, just, please don’t stop.”
Your lips find his again, and you tangle your tongues together, pushing him down on the mattress. Bucky’s soft whimpers raise goosebumps on your skin. Your fingers dip under his shirt and he breaks the kiss with a strangled sound, racing to pull it off. You tug on his belt, “These too.”
Desperately, he pleads, “You too. Gotta see you princess. Missed you so much.”
You get as far as your shirt, then Bucky impatiently rips the rest off of you.
His cock is straining against his belly, already leaking a puddle on his colorful skin. “Please, kitten,” his voice low and rough, “Please. I can’t wait.” You throw a leg over his hips to straddle him, and he grips his cock so you can lower yourself onto it. He’s desperate to fill you, but you’re so tight around him, he whines fuckfuckfuck as you work him into your cunt. His head falls back on the mattress with a thump, and he struggles to breathe.
“God I missed you so fuckin’ much. Fuck, you feel so good. ‘m not gonna last long.”
You already feel tension building in your belly, and you know it’s not going to take much for you either, you lean down to brush your noses together, and reassure him, “It’s okay Buck. I just wanna feel you. After that, we have all the time in the world.”
His vibranium hand gently cups your cheek, pleasantly cool against your heated skin, and draws you in for a deep, greedy kiss. His other arm circles your back, and holds you in place so he can grind into you. It’s slow and dirty, like now that he’s inside of you he’s planning on staying there until the sun goes supernova.
His metal hand cards through your hair, fingertips skimming softly over your scalp, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Looking into your eyes he sighs, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Bucky,” you hum. “You’re filling me up so good. I’m so close.”
“You gonna come for me, princess?”
“Yeah. Don’t stop.”
“Never,” he huffs against the shell of your ear and fucks you harder.
The pressure in your core crests, and you spill slick over his cock whining his name against the damp skin of his neck. Your tight channel squeezing around him is swiftly his undoing. His strong hands press your hips against him, whining your name, digging his fingertips into your soft skin as he fills you so full of come it leaks out around his cock.
“Promise me?” he pants.
“Anything Buck. Name it and it’s yours. What do you want?”
“Promise you’ll never go?”
You lift up enough to take his face in your hands, and shake it gently back and forth, “Bucky Barnes, I’m not going anywhere. Ever. You’re never getting rid of me, not even if you hire an exterminator. I’ll just hide in the walls.” You giggle, and the sound makes his body break out in goosebumps.
“Perish the thought,” he chuckles, kissing you all over your face until you giggle for him again.
The curtain opens, and the smell of Steve’s body wash rolls over you both when he climbs in. His breath catches on an inhale and he swears quietly. He stretches shaky fingers toward you until they graze over your hip. They follow your leg down until he comes to Bucky’s waist, and traces lightly over his side.
“Shit,” he says, his voice tight and gravelly, like he’s on the edge of tears, “I missed you both so fucking much.”
You sit up, and drag Steve in for a kiss. “Hey, hey. We’re right here, Stevie,” you reassure him, “not going anywhere.”
Impatient and greedy, Steve swats your ass until you roll off Bucky. “C’mon. Need to taste you both again.” He runs a couple fingers through your folds, and pops them into his mouth, tasting Bucky’s come and your juices. “Seems like all I gotta do is get my tongue inside this pretty pussy, and I can have both of you in one lick.” He cages you between his arms, hovering over you.
“Well, come get it, big boy,” you whisper with a smirk.
Steve growls, and dives between your thighs. He wastes no time getting his tongue into you, lapping at your cunt like it contains the nectar of the gods. He groans, “Jesus fucking christ, doll, you taste like heaven.”
You’re about to lift your head up to watch Steve, but Bucky’s tattooed, CUNT PUNCHER palm falls over your throat, and pushes your head down to the mattress. You tilt your chin up, an open invitation to squeeze, and he does, until the little whimpered noises you’re making are cut off. Then he licks his way into your mouth, exploring you with his tongue.
He releases your throat at the same time he breaks the kiss, and the first thing to squeak out of your mouth is, “Fuuuuck, Bucky.”
It’s something so simple, but the wrecked way you say his name makes him groan. Steve’s head pops up from between your thighs and asks him, “What do you need, Buck? What can we do for you?”
His eyes dart greedily between you and Steve, and he finally says, “Wanna fuck you, Stevie. Need to feel you too.”
Steve hums, “That sounds amazing. It's been a bit, so I need to warm up for you a little. You’ve gotta take over for me here,” he says, sliding from between your legs.
Bucky sighs dramatically, “Someone has to tongue-fuck her within an inch of her life. I guess I can make the sacrifice,” he smirks at you until you kick out at him. He snatches your foot out of the air and nibbles your arch until you squeal.
Bucky settles in between your legs, hawks a wad of spit onto your clit, then dives into your pussy like a man possessed. The wet, messy slurping noises are obscene, and god damn it feels good. He slips two fingers inside of you, and you’re on the verge of begging him to make you come, but he curls his fingers against your sweet spot, and fuck, stars explode behind your eyelids. You seize handfuls of Bucky’s hair and he drinks you down as you gush over his face.
You eyes find Steve’s where he’s propped up, against the wall. He’s stroking a tight fist over his dick, eyeing you hungrily.
“Stevie,” you call sweetly, “come stuff your cock down my throat.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. Before you can blink, his knees are framing your face, and he’s tugging your mouth open with one hand and feeding his cock to you with the other. He doesn’t hesitate, breaching your gag reflex with one smooth push. The ring through his cock head tickles at the back of your throat when he starts fucking your mouth.
Suddenly he groans loud, and rests a hand on your throat when his dick is making it bulge out with every thrust. “Fuck, doll,” he groans, “can see my cock in you. Right here,” he squeezes the column of your throat over your stretched esophagus. Squeezing your throat puts extra pressure around his cock, and his eyes roll back in his head while he chants oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. He spills deep in your throat with a ragged growl, pulling out halfway through so the last few spurts of come paint your tongue, and rest on your bottom lip like pearls.
“So gorgeous with my come on ya, princess,” he purrs. You suck your lip between your teeth and he groans.
“Taste so good, Stevie,” you coo, “not done with you yet.”
“What’d you have in mind sweetheart?”
“Let me get you ready for Bucky,” you tug on his arm, “sit on my face.”
“Jesus, doll. Trying to kill me. Fuck.”
You pull his arm until he moves up to straddle your face. You pull his hips down until he’s close enough that you can thumb his cheeks aside and lick a wet stripe over his hole. His whole body shudders, and he groans a curse.
Bucky works your cunt over with a fervor that leaves you breathless. His fingers fuck you relentlessly, and his tongue is inexhaustible. He pulls his fingers out of you, making you whine, and replaces them with three chilly metal digits, and an unyielding thumb grinding against your clit. His vibranium fingers are colder and firmer than his human fingers, so they hit a bit differently, and being suddenly stuffed with three of them sends you plowing over the edge. He coaxes your orgasm out of you, urging you to come for him.
“Come on, princess. Come for me. Fucking soak me like a good little slut. There you go. Oh, fuck, there you go. What a good girl you are. See your hungry little cunt squeezing around me. She’s so fucking pretty when she comes for me.”
You gush hot and wet around his fingers, your cries muffled by the meat of Steve’s ass. He grinds down on you, because even as you writhe and groan through your orgasm, you never stop working his tight ring of muscle.
Steve takes your hand and pops three of your fingers into his mouth. Swiping his tongue over the pads of your finger tips, and soaking your digits with spit. He gives your hand back groaning, “Get your fucking fingers in me. Be a good girl and stretch me out. I wanna fucking feel it.”
You rub the pads of your wet fingers against his puckered hole until it flutters against them. Then you push all three of them in at once. Steve’s back bows, and he groans loudly. “Oh, fuck me, that’s perfect. You’re perfect.” You rock your fingers shallowly, curling them to drag over his prostate. Steve starts chanting mindlessly, yesyesfuckyesrightthereyeahfuckme.
Bucky pushes your legs up until your ass is in the air and your knees hit Steve’s thighs. Steve grabs your legs, holding them open for Bucky, who growls, “Come on my wet little slut, gimmie one more. Your pussy’s hungry for it, she’s fucking dripping for it” before he drives his tongue into your cunt.
Your body writhes away from Bucky’s tongue—or it tries to. Between Bucky’s hands on your hips, Steve’s on your thighs, and the way Steve’s legs are caging your upper body, they’ve got you on lock-down. Bucky chuckles against your folds. “You’re not going anywhere, kitten, so you might as well give it up. All you gotta do is come for me, that shouldn't be tough for a good little slut like you.”
Bucky spreads your lips with two fingers, and spits on your pussy, pushing it into you with his fingers. You whine and clench around his digits when he starts finger fucking you and assaulting your clit with his talented tongue. Your climax hits you hard, you back bowing up off the mattress, keening as your cunt flutters around Bucky’s relentless fingers. He groans long and low as he laps up your slick.
He eases you down from your orgasm gently, until all that’s left are the tremors that shake through your thighs when Bucky noses softly over your clit. His breath ghosts over your cunt, soft puffs of air when he speaks, “Fuck me, princess. That was so sexy. You’re beautiful, so good for us. Love you so much.”
Bucky rises to his knees, and takes Steve’s hand. You gently take your fingers back and give Steve’s butt cheek a playful kiss. Bucky lays Steve on his back next to you and swipes a tongue over Steve’s dick, just for a taste.
“Buck,” Steve asks quietly, “please don’t try to be gentle. I miss you. Want it to hurt, want to feel you for awhile.”
Bucky nods at his request, throwing Steve’s legs over his shoulders, lining up, and pushing in right to the hilt. Steve gives a strangled noise of pleasure and yanks Bucky’s face down to his with a handful of hair. Bucky hisses and thrusts into Steve as they start to kiss.
There’s a savagery in the way they reacquaint themselves. Feverish touches, nails digging burning furrows in tattooed skin, raw animal noises, biting marks in each other’s tender spots. But there’s also beauty in it too. Deep kisses, words of worship whispered in each other’s ear, the way Bucky gently cradles Steve’s head in hands, the way Steve’s fingers trace gingerly over Bucky’s features, as if to memorize them all over again.
The primal noises of them fucking make you ache. You must make a noise, because Steve looks over at you, your face resting right next to his.
“Kiss me, princess,” he says, desire thick in his words. You roll over, and he guides your lips together, feeding you the gasps and moans and grunts that Bucky’s cock pushes out of him. His knuckles graze softly over your features, his hand curling to drag nails over the tender skin of your back when Bucky shifts his hips just enough that he’s hammering against Steve’s prostate.
The kiss breaks when Steve throws his head back with a deep groan. “Shit, Buck,” he rumbles, “keep doing that. Fuck. Gonna make me come.”
“Do it, Stevie,” Bucky husks out, “lemme feel you come on my cock. Already squeezing around me, know you’re close. Feels so fucking nice, makes me wanna fill you up. Remind you what a slut you are for us.” Bucky’s head dips down and he takes Steve’s nipple in his mouth and rolls it between his teeth, the barbell faintly clicking against his pearly whites.
Steve makes a strangled noise as the first warm splashes of come touch down on his stomach. Bucky studies Steve’s features, as if to re-memorize each and every crease in his brow, whisker in his beard, and sound he makes when he falls apart.
As soon as the last of Steve's orgasm has spilled across his chest, Bucky is done for. He lets Steve’s body take hold of him, draw him in until he’s packed in deep, and that’s when he starts to spill. Steve feels every twitch of Bucky’s cock and the spreading warmth of come deep in his guts.
Steve’s head rolls in your direction. He’s confronted by your lust-blown eyes, and your bite-swollen lips. “Did that turn you on, pretty girl? You like watching our boy fuck me?”
You whine, “Yes, Stevie. I do.”
“You want me to fuck you? ‘s that little pussy of yours still fucking hungry?”
“Stevie, please.”
Steve’s already hard again by the time Bucky heaves him over between your legs, “You heard the lady. Don’t make her beg,” he says, swatting Steve’s ass.
Steve gives you a wolfish grin, “Well I guess it’s up to me to feed this hungry little kitty, isn’t it?”
He sinks into you with one swift stroke. Your eyes roll back in your head, and Steve’s hand is on your jaw, squeezing tight. Your eyes fly open and he growls, “Look at me while I’m fucking you.”
“Sorry, Stevie,” you whisper.
He dips his head to kiss you. His hand is still squeezing your jaw, limiting your movements, so he bites and sucks at your lips until you whine his name. “It’s okay, princess. You’re so fucking beautiful.” The filthy squelching noises his cock pushes out of you is a perverse contrast to the words of love that drip from his lips like honey. “You feel so good. So tight and wet for me. God you’re such a good fucking girl for me. You’re gonna come for me one more time.”
It’s not a question, but you shake your head and whine, “I can’t Steve. I can’t do it. ‘s too much.”
His big hand gently shakes your jaw, fingers hollowing your cheeks, big silver rings digging into your jawbone. “You can, and you will, because I fucking said so. You wanna be a good girl for me, don’t you?”
He ends with a tone that is soft, and encouraging, and you want, more than anything, to be good for him, so you nod.
His hips speed up, and your bodies are slapping together hard. His large hand leaves your jaw to wrap around the base of your throat, his palm resting right over the shield inked on your sternum. He presses against you, and Bucky’s metal hand slips stealthily around your neck under your chin and squeezes, the plates and gears whirring quietly as his grip adjusts.
“Come on, kitten,” he purrs in your ear, “Come for Stevie. It’s been so long. Let him see how fucking pretty you are when you come apart for him.”
You sob as your orgasm sweeps over you, your pussy squeezing Steve’s cock, as you cling desperately to his shoulders. Tears squeeze out of the corners of your eyes as you keen weakly.
Steve comes when you do, your walls squeezing him tight sends him over the edge. He showers you with praise as he fucks you full of his come. “My good girl. Fuck, I love you so much. Always so good for us. So sexy. You’re so perfect.” He babbles as his body stills against yours.
He lifts up a little to thumb the tears off your face. Suddenly you break out into real sobs. Steve and Bucky are both immediately concerned. Steve sits you up while Bucky supports your back.
“What’s wrong doll?”
“Did we hurt you?”
“What happened?”
“What can we do?”
“Guys, I’m so sorry,” you hiccup, “I’m such an awful person for giving you the silent treatment for so long. I feel terrible. It’s all my fault-”
Bucky shakes you gently until you stop babbling. “Listen to me. What happened was NOT your fault. You had every right to feel how you felt. But it doesn’t matter now.”
“Yeah, doll. It’s all water under the bridge. Please don’t cry. And please stop thinking that this was your fault.”
Bucky mops at your face with a soft flannel shirt. “There’s my sweet princess,” he smiles at you. They’re both smiling at you, and there’s a chorus of angels in those bright, beautiful smiles.
You grab them both and pull them to you. They crowd together until you’re engulfed in their heat and their strong arms. “I love you both so much. I can’t lose you,” the last words are barely a sigh, but both of your super soldiers hear it crystal clear.
Your ear is pressed against Steve’s chest, and his words rumble through it when he speaks. “You can never ever lose us. Do you hear me? It’ll never happen. It’s impossible and just absurd to even consider. We love you. You belong to us just as much as we belong to you, and we won’t go anywhere without you.”
You nod, feeling reassured by their words. Bucky starts acting like a mother hen, cleaning everyone up, until you and Steve wrestle him to the mattress and clean him up in turn.
Alpine’s muurp comes from just outside the bunk. Bucky slides the curtain open so she can jump in. She tackles Bucky with relentless headbutts, rubbing her head all over him, and rolling onto her back so Bucky can rub her tummy.
You and Steve curl up comfortably and watch Bucky pamper Alpine for a while. Eventually you both tug him over to you sleepily. You tangle yourselves together, getting as close as it’s possible for three bodies to be. Once you’re all comfortable, words of worship taper off into soft snores as you nod off in each other’s arms, while Alpine curls up against Bucky’s feet and falls asleep too.
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teklarn · 3 years
Note
I NEED A PART TWO FOR BAUKGOU’S AWKWARD CONFESSION!!
𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓽. 2
character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader
a/n: k the first one kinda blew up and i've been on tumblr for like a week and it made me rly happy receiving the requests ty <33 thank u for all the reblogs too !! this is a bit later than i hoped it would come out b/c half of the original fic was deleted by accident, but i’m on summer break until sept 5 so hopefully i’ll still update frequently. 
𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕!
summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you. 
genre: lil angsty, fluffy at the end
warnings: cursing, one-sided pining, gave reader a quirk, the fighting scene is bs i cannot write action scenes at all im so sorry lol,  second hand embarrassment for our dearest dynamight :(
word count: 2507
pls don't mind any typos! i try to edit to the best of my ability but i tend to type fast and i might miss a few or a lot of things. 
- - -
read part one here my loves !!
you found yourself bored, cheeks puffing out as you swirled around the drink in your glass cup, sitting across from midoriya. he was muttering again, which you’d always found cute, however you weren’t listening this time at all. 
part of the reason you’d rejected bakugou was due to the fact midoriya had requested your attention first, and not as friends. if you’d told bakugou that, it would just wound his delicate ego on top of the fact that you truly had no interest in him whatsoever. 
at the moment, though, he was the only thing on your mind. there was no sudden spark of attraction you’d felt when he’d confessed. of course, anyone would find it flattering that the katsuki bakugou found you attractive. his standards were higher than the clouds. 
at the moment, it felt like something was blocking your chest from feeling something for him, however you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. 
“—it was amazing, right, y/n? y/n?” 
your eyes flickered up to meet the emerald, wide-eyed eyes of your friend. you contemplated lying, but it was no use. shaking your head softly and pursing your lips, you set your drink down. “i’m sorry, midoriya. i’m just kind of...out of it, i guess you could say?” 
he cocked his head to the side. “’out of it’?” he repeated. 
“yeah,” you sighed, head pounding. 
“is everything alright? maybe today isn’t the best time for this.” 
“yeah,” you agreed. “maybe.” 
“do you want to go back to the dorms?” 
you nodded, massaging your temples. “yeah, yeah let’s go home.” 
midoriya let out a soft chuckle through his nose, smiling. “alright.” he offered his hand, and you gladly let him heave you up. 
“i’m sorry about this. honestly, midoriya, i enjoy your company, i really do. but i never assumed you’d catch feelings for me too—” 
“too?” he blinked. the two of you continued on your way back to Heights Alliance. 
you gulped. “yeah, there’s—” 
“are you saying you caught feelings for me, as well?”
your eyes fell blank, lips parting in question. “no, uh. you know what? never mind.” you giggled gently in hopes the two of you would laugh it off without another thought. perhaps you should keep you and bakugou’s quiet interaction to yourself. midoriya and bakugou were already rivals enough. 
the following week was agonizing in many ways. sitting beside bakugou guaranteed that you would get strange, judgmental looks. it never guaranteed his stolen glances. when you’d catch him staring, his cheeks would flare up, and you swore he had smoke puffing out his ears. 
each time, he looked as if he would explode. what can you expect from a guy like him? 
it was easy to assume you’d just pissed him off, though. you weren’t the type of person to tell everyone you’d been asked out, but you needed to speak to someone about it. the thought had been nagging you, stuck at the back of your mind but just on the tip of your tongue. 
you even found that you were distancing yourself from midoriya, who, after asking you out, had insisted you begin calling him izuku. over everyone else, you’d choose him to speak to about the matter, but ever since you’d discovered he had feelings all along, it was strange being around him. 
you viewed him differently. he shot you glimmering smiles and blushed softly when you said his first name. 
“y/n?” 
you twisted around to see mina rocking on her heels behind you. “yes?” 
“are you okay? you seem...how do i put this.” she tapped a pink finger against her lips. “off. you seem off. is everything alright?” 
your brows raised. “oh, yeah. i’m good. thanks for checking in.” 
“is there anything you want to talk about?” she adjusted her hero costume. you and the rest of the girls were currently changing for another training exercise. 
yaoyorozu fixed her hero costume. “i don’t mean to impose on anything, but i have to agree with mina, y/n. of course, there’s no pressure to tell us anything. you’re under no obligation to unless you need and want to talk to someone, but we’re here if you need us, okay?” 
you nodded, smiling softly. “thanks you guys.” 
it was the same training as before, however you were able to select a partner of your own. being that there were 21 students in the class, there was always ought to be a group of three, or one person left out. you’d come into yuuei out of pure luck, as some like to put it. 
you’d found it offensive they’d assumed it was that and not your own pure skill. it’d taken a while to re-convince yourself that you were worthy of being in the class, even if you were usually the odd one out. 
most students had already bonded by the time you arrived here, so finding a partner wasn’t always easy. once you and midoriya had gotten close, you two did most things together, however at the moment, you weren’t quite feeling it. 
surprisingly, your eyes caught bakugou standing alone, eyes scanning the room for a partner. kirishima must have partnered up with another friend, then. it was always them together. 
unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough to avoid either of them. bakugou was already trotting up to you, eyes locked on your figure just as midoriya began jogging to your side. 
in perfect unison, they asked, “be my partner?” (in two very different tones, of course.) 
you blinked between them, about to answer when aizawa came up behind you three. 
“are you guys in the group of three?” your teacher deadpanned. 
your shoulders slumped. “yeah, i guess so.” 
“get to work. you’ve already wasted five minutes standing around.” 
you nodded politely. “yes, sensei.” 
you swallowed. bakugou’s crimson gaze was pinning you in your spot, and midoriya’s lips thinned with a lack of enthusiasm when bakugou looked back at him. 
“get to work, you three,” aizawa repeated, walking away. 
“i can take on both of you.” bakugou cracked his knuckles. 
you clenched your fists. “we already know you’re at the top of the class, bakugou. there’s no need to rub it in our faces.” 
he averted his eyes, cheeks flushing red. it was like a sad, silly way of letting you know you won this fight. 
“i’ll go against you two,” you said, adjusting your hero costume. 
midoriya’s eyes widened. “what? y/n, but—” 
“but i’m not strong enough?” you finished for him. you knew where they ranked in strength, and while yours was just as powerful, if you let one thing slip, your arrows would disappear and you’d be dust. “that’s exactly my point, you two are practically at the top of the class with your quirks.” 
“tch, don’t hold back,” bakugou said, readying himself. 
“don’t go easy on me,” you mocked. 
“y/n, do you really think this is a good idea—” before izuku could finish, you and bakugou launched yourselves at one another. 
you charged forwards. an arrow flew from your hand, twisting its way right through the smoke of an explosion. when it cleared, bakugou was nowhere to be seen. 
a gasp fell from your lips as you turned around just a little too late. your ears rang terribly as your back collided with the ground. 
izuku cried out. green lightning flashed, and he was at your side in a moment. “kacchan!”
you groaned, sitting up. bakugou cut through the smoke with an arm. “fight me, damned nerd. there aren’t any pauses in a real fight.” 
you wriggled yourself away from midoriya. “midoriya, you’re my enemy in this.” 
“bu—” 
“no buts. fight me. and don’t hold back.” 
midoriya noted the determination in your eyes and stood, giving you a sure nod. you were back on your feet in a second. bakugou flew in the air and came crashing down just as fast as he conjured a blast in his right hand. 
attacking wasn’t your best option right now. you were smart enough to know that. an arrow appeared flat at your back and pulled you from where bakugou was targeting. 
cement flew into the air. 
that blast could have wounded you badly. possibly killed you, if he’d hit the right spots. 
in the air, you examined their zealous features. midoriya’s brows were furrowed in that determined smolder. 
bakugou, as always, looked angry. as expected, he charged first, shooting himself into the air. his foot nearly collided with your face, missing my barely an inch. you took your shot, revealing the arrow you’d hidden behind your back. the tip collided with his chest. 
you left the arrow to complete its command and stick your blonde opponent to the wall and trap him there while you went after midoriya. 
while he bested you in strength, you did the same to him when it came to speed. you dodged his punches like they were weak attempts at hitting a ball in a park. 
you grinned. in a battle of strength and speed, whoever landed the first hit would win. there was no question. 
twisting in the air, you allowed the ball of your foot to shove midoriya to the ground. he cried out as his face was crushed into the cement. 
it was perfect timing, as bakugou ripped free of your hold, the arrow keeping him in one spot dissolving into air as soon as its purpose was lost. 
your head whipped around to see him charging for you. 
your fingers curled. the headache pounding at your temples was beginning to get hard to ignore. 
bakugou launched himself at you, spinning in the air like a missile. he really wasn’t going to howitzer you...right? 
when he didn’t slow down, you threw your body to the right, the attack just barely missing your leg. it scorched a bit of your thigh. a groan fell from your lips as you cupped the area around the burn, shuddering with pain. 
bakugou’s chest was puffed proudly as he marched up to you, hands cracking with excited explosions. 
he pulled back his right arm, ready to spark up another fight as midoriya recollected himself. you bit your lip to hide the fact you were quivering. 
it was sudden, but bakugou paused when he saw your hand fly up. 
“give me a minute...” you gasped out, skin still sizzling. 
“y/n! are you alright?” 
you didn’t respond. midoriya smacked his friend’s arm. “kacchan! what’re you thinking?”
“midoriya, i’m fine. don’t stress over it.” you limped to your feet, rejecting the extended hand from your green-haired friend. “i’ll just go see recovery girl.” 
“do you need—” 
you smacked midoriya’s hand away, a little bit more rude than you intended it to be. “i’ll be...fine.” you offered a weak smile to hopefully make up for your tiny outburst. 
although you could see in his eyes he wanted to help, midoriya nodded and stood by, hand falling back to his side. you clutched around the patch of burned skin. the sting had faded a bit, however there was a soreness to the wound that felt like a constant stabbing to your leg. 
you swallowed the pain down, marching towards the exit with determination and a bit of a limp.
you looked back to see midoriya had gone off to tell mr. aizawa what was going on. your teacher nodded, understandingly. 
there were a few worried glances and offers for help in the hall, but you’d neglected them all and found yourself relieved to see recovery girl in her office, typing away. 
she turned as the door opened. “please knock beforehand next time—oh, dear. y/n? are you alright?” 
you gave a tense nod. “mhm. just got a bit banged up in training today.” 
the old woman pursed her lips, smile lines becoming evident. “i see.” she led you to the small cot reserved for patients such as yourself and directed you to sit down. 
she examined the bruise. “it’s fairly bad. what happened?” 
you made a gesture to the door. “i was brawling with bakugou and things got...intense.” 
“that boy has quite an extreme side to him, as i’ve come to notice.” 
“mhm,” you agreed. 
“unfortunately, y/n, i have no ointments to be able to treat this properly.” 
you nodded sheepishly before the old woman smooched your cheek. a soft green glow radiated around you. 
when she pulled back, she said, “now, your body will be trying to catch up on the healing process. that’s what my quirk does. speed up recoveries. since it’s sped up, you’ll require some rest, preferably sleep. i’ll make sure your teachers know you’re excused for the rest of the day, sound good?” 
“yes, thank you recovery girl.” 
she pushed herself out of her rolling chair and left the room, smiling at you.
your eyes fluttered shut not long after that. 
the sun was gone when you woke up, the hallway light flickering off. 
“good, you’re awake.” 
you looked to the left. you cried out, gathering the white sheets around yourself despite being completely clothed. “bakugou! what the hell? you stalker! you creep!” 
bakugou took the slap you gave him on his arm. it was light, and didn’t do much damage. 
“what...what do you want?” 
even in the dark, you could tell bakugou’s cheeks were burning red. “about...about the other day. i wanted to talk to you about it.” 
your chest fluttered in unwanted hope. “there’s nothing to talk about.” 
“dammit, y/n, i wish there wasn’t anything to talk about. you’re insufferable and annoying and i can’t stand being around you because no matter what’s going on, you make my chest feel all funny. it’s stupid, and i can’t take my eyes off of you.” 
heat rushed to your cheeks. “i’m flattered, really. but i-” 
“i’m not asking you to reciprocate my shitty feelings. if anything, it’s better if you don’t.” 
“bakugou, i wasn’t...” you paused. 
“you what?” he snapped, voice soft despite his tone. 
“i was going to say that ever since you...ever since you asked me out, i’ve been conflicted about my own feelings.” 
“the hell is that supposed to mean?” 
“i’m not sure if i like you back or not, bakugou. but hearing you say all this...makes me want to give it a shot. sort of. also, why the hell are you watching me sleep?” 
bakugou swept hair from his eyes. “don’t go and try to change the subject on me, dumbass.” 
you gulped. 
“so what’re you saying?” 
“i’m saying,” you started, “i’m saying that maybe i want to go out on that date with you.” 
“say it again.” 
“what?” you looked up, his eyes boring into yours. 
“i said i want you to say it again. tell me you want to go out on a date with me.” 
it startled you how sure he was when he knew what you wanted, too. this was unlike the last attempt to ask you out. 
“katsuki bakugou, i want to go on a date with you.” 
he grinned. “where to?”
237 notes · View notes
dreamcatcherrs · 4 years
Note
a high school prom au where the reader and Dream are like childhood best friends and the readers date shows up with someone else then when the reader feels all lonely, Dream is like “what if we danced🥺” ??? anyways love you and your fanfics you’re like my favorite writer on tumblr💖💘
+ this is such a cute concept! I’ve never written anything like this, but I hope it was what you wanted<3
++ also this is such an old request, I’m so sorry
prom night - dream
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: high school au! dream x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after being abandoned by your prom date, the person you expected the least to spend the night with asks you for a dance.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.501
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, fluff, swearing, slight mention of alcohol use.
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song recommendation: love on the brain - rihanna
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you couldn’t believe your eyes.
there your date stood, arm wrapped around a person that you for sure knew wasn't you. the excitement disappeared from every corner and edge of your body, hands falling to your sides in complete disappointment.
proudly, your so-called date stepped forward in line with a smile on their face, waiting to be the next for the photo shoot the had been set up. your smile was gone. and so was your passion for continuing this prom.
looking down, you turned on your heels, walking away from the great asshole of a date, and finding an empty seat by one of the available tables.
you’d wondered why it took so long for your date to arrive - you should’ve known, really. but no - now you were just left sitting alone by an empty table. what was the point of even being there anymore when all you could feel was loneliness?
everyone else was having fun, partying and smiling about the night ahead of them - just like you should’ve been. but now, you were just left with feeling disappointed in yourself. how could you make yourself believe that someone actually wanted to bring a date like you to the prom? what were you thinking?
you sighed deeply as you rested your head in the palm of your hand, other hand busy with tracing the cutouts on the table.
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“just go over there, man!”
“yeah, they’re just sitting there all alone… this is your perfect chance!”
clay scratched the back of his head, staring down at the drink in his hand.
“I don't know… what if they say no?”
george and nick both rolled their eyes. the only one who really believed that was gonna happen would be clay. it was crystal clear to literally everyone else that the two of you had developed feelings for each other over the many years of knowing one another. clay would always brush it off with a “we’re just friends”, but really, he knew they were right.
he’d known you since he was 8 and you 7 - having been best friends since that day and until last year. you'd kinda… broken off since then. as you grew older, more important things had distracted you from keeping the connection, and eventually, you just slipped away.
he knew he liked you as more than a friend. but he was certain you didn't.
after all, you wanted to go with a complete dickhead, who ditched you anyway. and now look where you were.
“hey guys~ why are you wasting the night just standing here? let’s party!” karl slurred as he came crashing into george and nick, swinging both arms around their shoulder from behind.
as george was busy pushing karls’ arm off of him, and nick pulling him closer, clay’s eyes were only focused on you. you looked so… sad. no one should be sad on their prom night, and frankly, maybe his friends were right.
before he knew it, his feet dragged him across the dance floor, towards your place on the chair. george’s eyes widened, a big smile spreading across his face, showing off his braces.
“would you two stop flirting with each other and watch what is happening right now?”
nick and karl giggled.
“why, are you jealous gogy?” nick teased, causing a light shade of pink to brush across george’s cheeks.
“shut up-”
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“hey.”
the second you broke away from your melancholy stare at the table, your heart started racing and a wave of sweat danced across your skin. he hadn't talked to you since… you couldn’t even remember the last time.
lifting your head off your hand, you sat up straight, watching as clay scratched the back of his neck nervously.
“hi,” you responded, voice quiet and unsure.
why was he talking to you all of a sudden? after all these months with absolutely no contact with each other, now he wants to talk to you? on the other hand, it’s not like you'd been very communicative with him either…
clay hesitated slightly, shifting on his feet. “why are you sitting here all alone? I thought you had a date?”
you sighed, corner of your lips turning down slightly. “yeah… they ditched me.” you looked away from him, feeling somewhat embarrassed that you'd let yourself get into a situation like that.
clay felt bad. how could someone let go so easily of someone as perfect as you? on the other hand, this meant that no one else could have you - and that made him kind of relieved.
he hesitated a little before speaking up again; “what a dickhead.”
that made you laugh a little. “yeah.”
silence approached after that, and a tension started building up. the both of you could feel the unspoken words you'd been keeping from each other rise up - yet you remained quiet.
after all, there wasn’t really anyone you could blame your fading friendship on - apart from yourselves.
clay cleared his throat, as a new, slower song came on, hand reaching out in front of him, hovering right before you. your eyes trailed along his tux-clad arm and up to his eyes, noticing the withheld love in them.
“do you wanna dance with me?”
you blinked at him, thankful that the fluorescent lights made it hard for him to see the blush on your cheeks. your heart felt as if it was pounding out of your chest.
“I-,” you stuttered, recollecting yourself quickly before placing your hand into his, fitting perfectly right into his palm. you smiled up at him softly. “I’d love to.” he smiled back to you, gripping onto your hand and lead you through the large crowd of people onto the dance floor.
he turned to you, taking in how absolutely breathtaking you looked right then. it was hard for him not to blurt out compliments at you at any given chance.
his hands found their place on your waist, and you let your hand snake around his neck, resting right where his haircut ended. it tickled him in a way that made him realise just how much he had missed your touch - hell, even talking to you reminded him of how lonely he’d felt without you.
slowly, the two of you swayed from side to side along to the song, just staring into each others eyes. clay sneaked a glance down at your lips, quickly averting his eyes again once you parted them.
“I’m really sorry we haven’t talked for so long,” you spoke, twirling a finger around one of his locks. “I miss it a lot. I missed you, clay.”
you stared at him with a look of guilt, biting down on your bottom lips once you'd finished your sentence. you looked down again, feeling sorry that you hadn't reached out to him before.
clay moved a hand to your cheek, tilting your head upwards so you'd look at him again. your eyes widened at the touch of his fingers, and you melted into his hand once his thumb bushed across the soft skin of your cheek.
“I missed you too, y/n. don't be sorry about that - I could’ve reached out too, y’know? we’re both guilty on that note. but, now that I can finally talk to you again, I don't wanna worry about the past, okay? I just want you to have a good night.”
you smiled softly at his words, feeling a wave of forgiveness wash over you. it felt good to know that you had your friend back again.
“I don't think my night can be ruined at this point,” you smiled, moving your hands from his nape to his shoulders instead.
“well, can I still make it a little bit better?” you raised an eyebrow at him, cocking your head to the side slightly.
his eyes fell down to look at your lips again, this time not being able to hold back from the temptation.
your lips attached to his.
and everything around you just stopped.
your eyes fluttered closed, leaning into the kiss once you realised what was happening, only making him pull you closer to him. his lips moved so gently, slowly against yours, a withheld desire finally being released.
who cared about the things that’d gotten in the way of your friendship? all that mattered right now was this very moment - that’s all that ever mattered.
“yes clay!”
“finally he fucking did it.”
the yelling coming from karl and nick from a distance away made the two of you break away from each other, turning your heads to the direction of them. george elbowed nick in the stomach to stop him from jumping into the air, revealing their spying spot.
you chuckled lightly at them, slowly turning your head back to clay with a lick of your lips. clay sent them a nice “fuck off” with his middle fingers, before also returning to the current situation and smiling at you widely.
“better now?”
you smiled wider at that. if only he knew.
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1K notes · View notes
sunnysunoo · 3 years
Text
Love Letters ; Sim Jake
Pairing: Jake X Reader
warnings: explicit language and cursing
word count: 3k words
genre: friends to lovers au! fluff with tiny pieces of crack lmao
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Jake was always known for being this perfect guy in school. I mean, they're not wrong. They always described him as if he's this walking piece of art in the hallways. People would stop to just stare at him. You'd stare at him all day too, but you set priorities first: writing him love letters.
You're no Lara Jean, but I guess you can say that she's what inspired you to write Jake letters. Who needs Peter Kavinsky when Jake Shim exists anyways?
note: Not me completely disappearing off of tumblr for like months and then showing up again suddenly lol. I got really busy the past few months since I was completing requirements for school, and I really didn't have the motivation to do anything at the time so I took so time off to take care of myself first so I hope you understand :) But now since it's summer break, I am given at least 2 more months until I go back to school in August :)) Here's the long-awaited Jake imagine that I completely forgot about lmao hope you enjoy <3
P.S I finished writing this at 1:26 am so please excuse the really shitty plot and grammar ill rewrite it once i wake up
tag list: @cha-raena ( sorry for the rlly late post bestie )
Dear Jake, First of all, I will never call you Jaeyun because calling you by your English name makes me feel like I'm your friend. Calling you by your Korean name makes us feel like we're cold strangers to one another and I don't want that. I want us to be something more than that, but it's hard when you don't even know who I am. I'm surprised how you don't grow tired of me just dropping letters right into your locker every time you open it, and that's one of the things I love about you. You don't just throw away people's efforts and you treasure them with care. It makes my heart beat so fast as if I ran miles away from here.
We're already one year left until we graduate high school, and I don't want to end my high school years without you realizing my feelings for you. I know for sure that you would never reciprocate the feelings that I have towards you, so I want to treat this as closure in case we do forget about each other in the future. Yours truly,
Moon
__
"How is this person not over you? That's like the tenth one this month," Jay said, looking over Jake as he reads the letter from his secret admirer. Jake has always been receiving these letters from the same person everyday for the past four months. He's thankful for the letters because they definitely make his day better, knowing that there's someone out there who loves him as who he is regardless of looks. He's not gonna lie that these little notes and letters make his heart race too. "Do you have any plans with finding the person behind the letters?" Jay asked as he watches his best friend trying to hide the small smile that's been growing. No one really knows who this mysterious person is and why they decided to name themselves the moon, but we don't judge anyone in here. If they want to be the moon in their next life, then so be it. "I really want to find the person who's making these letters," Jake shoved the letter in his backpack, trying to not wrinkle it. "But I don't know where to start." "Who's finding who?" A voice popped suddenly beside the presence of the two boys. You leaned beside the locker beside Jake's, watching him as he grabs his books from his locker. "Did Moon drop your daily letter today again?" "They did as usual," Jake wasn't even surprised. He would expect the letters every time he enters the school in the morning. He would open his locker to see the usual small letter placed inside his locker. He usually arrives at seven or earlier, but he's surprised that he could never even catch a glance of this anonymous sender around the campus. "Should I go to school at five in the morning?" "Five in the morning? Isn't that a bit too early?" You questioned, followed by a shaky breath. "The school doesn't even open until six." "I could just walk to that nearby convenience store I always pass by to grab a coffee." He argues, closing his locker shut before walking towards his classroom.
You and Jay followed beside him, and you sneered under your breath, "You don't even wake up to your alarm clock."
"Why don't you even want me to go early anyway?" He glances as you try to give him an answer. But before you could say something, Jay replies first.
"You’re probably hiding something." He said. You rolled your eyes and narrowed your eyes at him. "You are so weird." You grunted, before walking ahead of them. You feel panicked because you were scared that you made yourself obvious to them.
__
You were inside your classroom sitting on your desk. There were only fifteen minutes left before lunch, but you had eaten your packed meal before instead of going to your school cafeteria. You were fidgeting in your place, conflicted about Jake finding his secret admirer, not knowing that it was you who's been sending him letters the past few months. You're not scared of him finding out that the letters were from you; that was the entire reason why you wrote him letters in the first place. You're scared of how he was gonna confront you about it. Would he like you back? Would he hate you? Would he avoid you?
Your mind was full of scenarios but you were suddenly brought back to reality when a hand planted itself on your desk. You look up and saw Jay standing in front of you, eating sushi with his other hand. His face kinda looks like he knows something, and it's freaking you out a bit.
"What?" You asked, suddenly flustered over how his eyes stared right into you. He took the seat in front of your desk and flipped it so it was facing you. He sat down and blurted the phrase that you were dreading to hear from anyone.
"So, you like Jake?"
You suddenly feel like punching him in the face with his sushi.
"What??" Your body felt like, and you were left a nervous mess. Your heart like it was going to pump right out of your chest any minute, and your hands started to sweat.
Jay's mouth formed into a smirk. He caught you. "Jake may be a bit oblivious, but I can totally see right through you."
“Haha...no you don’t,” You tried to deny, but it was all useless when his expression looked unconvinced.
“Oh yeah? Then why are you all red? You look like a bursting tomato.”
“You don’t know that," You leaned further into your seat, playing with the strings of your hoodie.
“C’mon Y/N, you’re not even trying. Just give up and admit it,” Jay was trying to help you confess your feelings for Jake. Frankly, he knew it was you sending him letters this whole time—how can Jake not see it?
With a heavy sigh, you slumped and laid your head on your desk, embarrassed. “Fine. I like him, okay? Are you happy now?”
The smirk on his face grew wider, feeling proud of himself. You are not dealing with his annoying crap this early in the morning. He grinned and munched on his half-eaten sushi. “I knew it.”
“Congratulations,” It was muffled because you hid your red face away from him. All that was on your mind now was how you could book yourself a flight all the way across the world.
“But seriously, since when did you have a crush on him?” You raised your head to face him, giving him a look that could kill, except Jay finds it entertaining rather than intimidating.
“I started having a crush on him when we were in fifth grade. It was at a friend's birthday party, and he saw me being all quiet and lonely. Honestly, I forgot who’s birthday that was.” You told him the very first time you had discovered feelings.
“He saw how sad I looked so he accompanied me the whole time. He was even trying to feel more included in the games and stuff.” You felt a smile ghosting on your lips as you can still vividly remember how you felt your heart tug the first time. “It was kinda like I fell in love at first sight.”
Jay faked a gag, so you lightly punched him in the shoulder. He may be a bit of an asshole, but he’s one the most caring and kind people you’ve ever met. It honestly felt good spilling out your feelings about Jake to him.
Speaking of, Jake was watching you two play around and laugh at Jay's little jokes from outside, and he felt something burning from inside him. Was it that he felt jealous of you and Jay?
No, he can’t be...right?
Maybe it was because of how he felt separated from you and Jay because of him being a separate class.
Yeah, maybe it's because of that.
__
Dear Jake,
I just had the most bizarre day today, and I felt like telling you about it.
It was chemistry period, and we had to be partnered with someone for a lab project. I ended up getting paired with Yeojin. We kinda created this unexpected friendship, which I love. We would crack jokes at each other, tell funny stories, it was so fun to be with her that we had completely forgotten about our project. So now, we both got a detention slip for making an accidental explosion.
How about you? How was your day? I hope it was just as fun as mine. If you feel like the day just wasn't as happy or you're feeling down, just now that it's okay to feel that way because days like these just lasts for 24 hours. It will be all over before you know it and you'll be greeted by another day. Maybe it will be different, and you would be all happy again just like how my day went. Maybe being with you would be my happiest day yet, and I couldn't wait for that day to come. See you soon :)
Love,
Moon
__
"Yeojin!" Jake called, seeing her walk down the opposite way. "Hey, mind if I ask you something?"
"Hey Jake," She greeted him with a smile. "Sure, go ahead."
"Could you perhaps give me any information about your partner in Chemistry?" He had hopes of getting any kind of description about his mysterious sender, but he was instead given a sad frown on Yeojin's face.
"Sorry Jake, but that person told me not to tell you about their information." She gave an apologetic smile. "I wish you all the best in finding them!"
Jake muttered a small "okay," and sighed before walking away, feeling defeated.
Yeojin knew that he was gonna ask about Moon the moment he called her from across the hall. She couldn't wait to tell you about this.
__
"Hey Y/N," A voice said from behind. You turned around to see Jake with his backup hung on his shoulder. He brought his hand up and raked his hair, and you felt your face grow red. Jake is like a gift from the gods. How can someone look so ethereal even if they're just standing there? You could stare at him all day. You couldn't even understand a thing he said until he started waving his hands in front of you.
"Hello?" You blinked multiple times as you were brought back out to reality. You saw Jake's face grow into concern. "Are you okay? spaced out."
"O-oh..No, I'm completely fine." You reassured him, feeling embarrassed. "What were you saying again?"
"I was asking you if you wanted to go to school with me early tomorrow."
Well, shit.
Your eyes started to go wide, and your hands started to go clammy.
"Tomorrow?" You repeated, voice trembling.
'Well, yeah." He pouted his lips, and you felt like melting into a small puddle in your place. Your heart started to pound heavily.
Oh my fucking god, he is so adorable.
"Okay, sure I can go with you tomorrow," You weakly smiled at him, slightly tense.
How we're you going to give him the letter now?
__
"Good Morning," Jake said as he watches you close the gates of your house. It was past five in the morning, and you were a mess.
"Morning," You replied back before running your fingers through your hair, getting rid of any flyaways.
As you started walking your way to the bus stop, Jake kept on glancing towards you from time to time. He knew you were pretty, but since when did you become really beautiful in his eyes?
The walk was pretty quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. For him, mostly.
Meanwhile, you couldn't stop freaking out. You had written a letter the night before, but you don't know how you were going to slip it into his locker without him taking notice. If he saw you, he would know.
"Are you sure you're okay? You've been like this since yesterday," Jake blurted. You looked at him before heaving a sigh.
"It's nothing," You mouthed, suddenly feeling anxious and gloomy.
"Something on your mind?"
"Something like that." It was hopeless. I guess he would have to miss this letter today. It was the first time you skipped a day, and you're feeling guilty that you would have to see Jake's face sadden that he wouldn't receive it today.
As you two stop at the bus stop, Jake looked slightly panicked as he was rummaging through the pockets of his blazer before looking through his bag. "Hey, do you have an extra pen? I left mine at home and I have a quiz today."
You snickered, "Out of all the days, Sim Jake. The same day you have a quiz is the same day you forget your pen."
"Very funny." He scoffed.
As you unzipped your bag to grab your pencil case, a folded piece of paper fell out without you realizing it. When Jake went to pick it up, he notices that it was folded the same way as the letters in his locker. It looked so identical.
Once you already got your pencil case out, you were about to hand it to him when you saw what he was holding that made your body freeze with your hand holding the case in the air.
"Why were one of my letters inside your bag?" He glanced at you, waiting for you to reply.
If you were freaking out before, this is a whole other thing. The thing that you were fearing the most is happening right before you.
"Maybe it fell into my bag yesterday..." You stammered, making up an excuse to look like it was an accident. You were tightly holding onto your pencil case, chanting many curse words in your head as you watch Jake unfold the letter.
"I don't think I've received this one yet," He said before he opened the letter and read it.
You watch as his expression formed into confusion as he reads through the paper. It only took a few moments before something in him clicked that it was you sending him the letters.
"Y/N," He began, and you started quivering in fear.
You should've known this would happen, but you didn't expect it to happen this sooner. In fact, you believed that this wouldn't happen at all. But it did.
"Let me explain," You eventually gave up and accepted fate and watch as your identity as "Moon" be revealed to your crush. You're now exposed so you didn't have any other choice but to explain everything. "Yes, I am Moon. I was the one writing you the letters that you've been getting in your locker."
Jake's face was unreadable. He looked bewildered and puzzled. He was trying to comprehend what was happening right now. All this time, it was you?
"I started crushing on you when we attended that birthday party before. I didn't want to confess my feelings for you because I was scared that you were going to harshly reject me, so I started writing down letters as a way to tell you how I feel about you without making you feel awkward around me." You continued, eyes suddenly taking an interest in your shoes. They were brand new too.
Jake was silent, and you felt your heart crack into pieces. You were mad at yourself for being so careless about it that he ended up finding out about you as his secret admirer. You wanted nothing else but to run back home, lock yourself in your room and cry with your sad playlist on loop.
You were expecting a harsh rejection coming from him, but what surprised was how he took dangerous steps towards you, minimizing the gap between you two. He placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him.
"I don't plan on rejecting you Y/N," You stare into his eyes as it reflects the sunlight of the early morning. "I'm actually happy that it was you."
You look at him, puzzled. He lowly chuckles under his breath before leaning over to place his lips against yours. It was a light, quick kiss, but it brought you feeling ecstatic. You've dreamed of this moment before, and now that it happened, you thanked your clumsiness.
As he pulled away, you were sure your face was a red mess.
"Thank you," His smile was as bright as the stars in the sky. It was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Thank you for making me like I'm special to someone."
You felt flustered over his words. You were scared that he could hear the sound of your heart pounding loudly. The butterflies in your stomach were going wild, and you felt like this was all a dream.
"So, what am I to you now?" You broke into a smile as he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.
Jake acted as if he was thinking, "Hm..maybe my best friend still?"
He bursts into a fit of giggles as he sees your smile slowly disappear, replacing it with a look of disbelief. You removed your hand from his and walked at a faster pace away from him.
He ran to match your pace beside you before holding your hand again, "I'm sorry, I won't ever do that again. Is my girl mad at me?"
"Oh my god, it's only five-fifty, Jake." You too broke into laughter over his cheesiness, but your heart fluttered over the thought of Jake calling you his.
__
HERE’S A LITTLE BONUS! since I've made you guys wait for 4 months :(
"What the fuck?" Was the first thing You heard from Jay as you and Jake entered the classroom. All of your classmates were staring at your and his hands intertwined together.
Jay stood in front of you two, crossing his arms together. "Can one of you explain when this happened?" he motioned towards your linking hands. You and Jake smiled at each other before walking away, leaving Jay in a fit of joy, and confusion.
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pr1ncessm00n · 3 years
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Update!!
Hi, everyone!! thank you so much for all the support and compassion. i'm sorry i've been kinda MIA for two days lol. that's kind of shitty of me to just not drop an update on Sunday and then disappear. but here's an in depth explanation as to wtf i've been doing and whats going to happen!! tw: heartbreak, depression, academic struggles
so obviously most of my chapter got deleted. i am actually almost done with rewriting it and i think it shaped out to be better than what i had previously written. i think by at least the end of the week it should be out, and it's VERY long just to make up for sunday's non update!! so i've been working a lot but thankfully my days off start tomorrow. i have a lot fo academic stress bc of some personal issues regarding my school quite literally fucking my schedule up and pushing my estimated graduation date back by oh... a few fucking months! great! literally hate that !! so ive been running around like a headless chicken trying to fix what wasn't my fault. sigh, i guess it should be resolved in a week or so, but as you can imagine i am so stressed about it. what makes me angrier is that it was not my own error. like to have to fix an issue that i did not cause?? i swear the staff at my school makes our experience harder not easier.
secondly, don't be fooled lol. i am writing this with tears down my face listening to harry styles and the aot season 3/4 theme song endings on repeat for almost 30 minutes because i had to end my 4 year relationship. that's a whole story for another day, but i don't think i will be okay mentally for a long time. he was my best friend and my first real love, so yeah. i might make our own love story into a fic or something just to cope but as for now thats another thing i have to deal with now!! my heart hurts a lot !! it's always the things you least expect. the worst part is it really isn't either of ours faults... or choice. i don't want to go into too much detail because even tho he's not on here and y'all don't know him, i want to respect his privacy. but the main reason is he has become very depressed, and even though i tried to help him as much as i could theres just some things you can't fix as a partner. i wish so much that i could take his pain away but i can't, i just can't.
sorry for that weird rant lol. it was a mutual decision, but it still hurts regardless lol. he was my bestfriend and lover in one, and i don't know how im going to continue my boring routine without him lol. but don't worry, i'll still be writing. if anything i'll probably write more. it distracts me, soothes me and is. great outlet. i don't plan on abandoning tumblr anytime soon lol.
thank you all so much for the support you guys are seriously the best group of people/fandom space i have witnessed in all my years as a fangirl. and i was around for 2014 tumblr so thats saying something. you guys have motivated me a lot to write more and improve, and i actually feel heard on this tiny blog (altho u have managed to make it not so tiny any more in the span of such a short few months?? im literally at 420 followers and i was at 300 a few weeks ago?? wow. im also about to hit 500 notes oh god.) you guys have literally given me so much inspiration and im so grateful for the friendships ive made already!! i have plenty of requests in my inbox to work on as well. im also creating a tag system so stay tuned!!
anyways, i feel so blessed to have such attentive followers and readers and you guys literally make me laugh everyday. its not just about notes or followers to me, but its so amazing how through tiny screens we can all share our love for some 2d characters and how for some reason my writing has struck a nerve with some of you. i love you all <3
emi
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koulakoukoula2003 · 2 years
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Hiii im an avid reader of your erwin x oc fic and i just wanna say.... i know petra is just a side character here but I can't help but feel bad about her :( she may be a jealous bitch here but levi's confession to erwin about choosing nathalie over petra just broke my heart for petra and my overthinking masochist brain has been thinking of scenarios like petra overhearing the conversation and when theyll be back in the hq she's gonna give levi the engagement ring back and just disappear in his life forever without saying anything like she just goes straight to his office, look at him in the eyes while giving him a painful smile and handing the engagement ring and a letter of resignation maybe then leaves without a word like a scene wherein petra realizes that she will never have a chance against nathalie even if levi isn't in nathalie's life anymore and she decides to give up because the pain is too much already or like after Levi's confession to erwin about choosing nat, levi noticed that petra overheard the conversation and petra ran off immediately and something bad happened to petra in the mission and when rounding up casualties, Levi asked some officer maybe about his squad then he was informed that petra is dead and i dont know how levi should feel like im such a sucker for tropes like petra and maybe levi will realize Petra's worth once she's gone and she is or maybe not or i dont know hahaha sorry im just rambling and wallowing about my angsty scenarios for petra 😂
lmao anon, i wrote a huge reply to this and tumblr fucked me up and i lost all of it snnkjehiwujogds TUMBLR, FIX YOUR FUCKING GLITCHES FFS YOUR PROGRAMMERS SUCK
ahem pls ignore me
OMG ANON, FIRST OF, TYSM FOR READING MY FIC!!! (I thank my readers all the time in case you haven't noticed eheheh)
And second, your ideas are AMAZING, honestly I was going to do exactly as you said, she overhears Levi’s confession to Erwin.
“I will forever choose Nathalie over Petra.”
Damnnnn, I bet y’all think he’s way out of character and he kinda is. I mean he would never hurt or use a woman like that. Using Petra while thinking of someone else? That’s not Levi at all. He is a respectful man and he would love his woman to the fullest.
But here, he is so convinced that he loves Nathalie when it’s not really love, he’s actually obsessed with Nathalie. He’s convinced that she’s the only one for him but that’s only because she was his first and the multiverse (long story short) this fic is part of my Multiverse of SNK idea.
So, this fic is a parallel universe to another fic of mine BHSL (a Nathalie x Levi slow burn) and let’s just say that an anomaly happened in the multiverse (it’s a long story, anon, you don’t need to know about it), and Levi from BBSF (the Erwin x Nathalie fic) is sharing emotions and memories from Levi in BHSL. So, the feelings that Levi has for Nat in this fic, they’re not actually his own. I was thinking that maybe, just maybe he actually loves Petra.
I know snk fans are masochistic af and you’d probably love for me to engage in angst and drama and heartbreaks LMFAO but hear me out, I had this idea of what happens with those two so that they can be happy (it’s a fix it fic after all).
As you said, Petra overhears Levi’s confession and she gets sad and mad af and she throws herself in battle to die. After Levi deals with the Beast, he finds her, lying in the battlefield, dying and bleeding and he panics. He literally panics. He kneels down and he pulls her in his arms and she’s crying.
She’s crying, she’s a mess because this man doesn’t love her. She was going to die and she was never going to find out how it feels to be loved by Levi. So, she cups his cheek and looks up at him and she makes him that final question that wants answered so desperately before she dies.
“Do you think, you could have ever loved me… as much as you love… her?”*
Oof that past tense hurts here a lot, because she’s talking about something that could’ve happened, but it never did because she’s dying now. Maybe deep down she has lost all hope and maybe she knows that she never really stood a chance in claiming his heart, but she just has to know. Maybe if he at least made his feelings towards her clear before her death, it would give her some peace.
And, please, now I want you to imagine Levi panicking and losing his calm entirely. This stoic man who watches friends die and kills people without a spec of emotion showing – now he’s at the verge of insanity. He’s slowly coming to realise that he actually loves Petra. Did she have to die for him to figure out it? Yes. He took her for granted. He won’t realise it if this scene doesn’t happen.
So, he brings her closer and he’s pressing down on her wound, as hard as he can because he needs time. He has wasted her time with her so much, being obsessed over another woman that would never feel the same for him. Imagine the self-loathing and the regret, the guilt he’s feeling right now. Now that he’s realising he loves her, it’s way too fucking late.
“No…” he says and she weeps but he’s wiping away her tears and he holds her closer and for the first time in her life, she’s seeing tears in those argent eyes she had grown to adore “…I could have loved you so much more.”*
Here’s the past tense again. Something that could have happened – he could have loved her but he never did, he never got the second chance he wanted because she died in his arms and he would forever hate himself for it. For hurting her, using her, making her a mere replacement when deep down he knew he was a mess without her.
BUT as I said, this is a fix it fic AHAHAHAH SO this is where the angst ends (my apologies eheheh), but remember those three serums that Nathalie made? The ones that heal all wounds???? Yeah, Levi kept one, Hange kept the second one (which they used on Moblit), and Nathalie hid the third one in her bag (that she eventually used to save Erwin).
Levi doesn’t know if it will work. He doesn’t care if someone needs it. He’ll use it on her and he’s going to save her life. She remains unconscious for a couple of days because she’s lost blood, but she survives and maybe they don’t break up. Maybe Levi snaps out of it, and he actually, finally lets their relationship become healthy and happy.
Honestly, I’m not actively a Rivetra shipper (but that’s only cuz it hurts too much and I’m a fucking wimp LMAO) and this fic is an Erwin x OC not a Rivetra fic and that’s why all the rivetra is wayyyyy back in the background (you reminded me with this ask to actually mention them in a scene because it’s been seven chapters and I’ve forgotten about them LMFAO) BUT I SHOULD DEF write this angsty scene as a flashback or a bonus/filler chapter or a oneshot.
But first, I need to get my shit together and stop being lazy and actually write shit LMFAO
TYSM FOR READING MY FIC (yes im repeating myself pls ignore) send me another ask to let me know whether you like this idea of mine or not, cuz I know you want pain, anon, and if you ask for it, I’ll deliver it and they’ll never get their happy ending MUAHAHAHAHAH
I could very nicely have her breaking their engagement and disappearing for (let’s say) four years (ehehehehe) and next time Levi sees her, she has a cute little four-year-old with silver eyes and black hair in her arms EEEHEHEHEHEHE or he could find her working in a brothel in the underground (MORE DRAMAAA) or she could be married to some other man that she doesn’t love (MUAHAHAHA) or she could be dead cuz she committed suicide and he finds out it’s because of him
Lmao, u got many choices, anon, pick whichever you like and lemme know!
*(lmao I used those lines first in a Vincent Valentine x OC fic of mine, go read it 🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫)
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mymelodyheart · 4 years
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Miles Between Us Chapter 11 ~Suspicious Minds~
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Picture Edit by melodyheart
Previously in The Art of Non-Communication ...
A familiar bright red Fiat slowed down next to them just as Jamie was about to get into the car, and Ian, their brother-in-law, poked his head out of the window. "Hey, lads, guess who I just saw back in town?"
The brothers looked at each other and shrugged. 
When Ian stalled, Willie blew out an impatient breath. 
"Out with it!" Willie grumbled. "I've been away from work for far too long already."
Ian grinned. "Yer pal Christie."
Jamie waved a hand in the air in dismissal and turned to open the car door, not particularly interested in hearing the latest coming and going in Broch Mordha. "I'm pretty sure the lassies will be thrilled he's back."
"Aye, ye're probably right, but I dinnae think ye'd be too pleased to hear if one particular lass is enjoying his company."
Jamie whipped around. "What do ye mean?" He sounded like someone just launched a flying rugby pass onto his stomach.
"Saw Claire and Tom through the window of Slater's Arms. Probably sitting down for late lunch."
  If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.
If you wish to read this from the beginning:
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 Claire hurriedly made her way to Slater's Arms to meet Tom Christie. They'd arranged earlier to meet at the pub after he'd dropped her off at the village centre to do her errands, so she was surprised to see him waiting outside. After exchanging a hurried cursory hello, he allowed him to guide her through the half-filled bar, his hand ever so lightly touching her elbow. They were greeted by a string of boisterous sallies from the locals, to which Tom good-humouredly responded with a couple of wisecracks of his own . It was becoming pretty clear they were in his local haunt and was well-liked by its patrons. But she also suspected there could be whispers going around, wondering what she was doing with him. Despite those thoughts, she kept her head up, and a smile plastered to her face.
After navigating through the narrow maze of tables and chairs, they opted for an empty space by the window, away from the bar where a heated football discussion was just about to begin. They simultaneously slid into their seats, sitting opposite each other, his lopsided grin and lax manner putting her immediately at ease. He was seemingly oblivious to the curious stares around them, but Claire paid no heed to the attention they were garnering and pushed her earlier encounter with Jenny away from her mind. This was a professional meeting, a welcome distraction even though it was proving an impossibility not to picture Jamie across from her. Suddenly missing Jamie, she allowed her thoughts to momentarily drift and wondered what he was up to.
"Hey."
Claire snapped out of her reverie. "Huh?"
"I asked if ye're hungry."
"Oh! Well, I'm not sure," she murmured, squinting at the specials scrawled on the blackboard hanging behind the bar. "Sort of, I guess."
"Sort of?" he laughed. "What kind of answer is that?" He passed her a menu. "Here. Ye ought to try their haggis tweeds. They have the best in this area."
She snorted, taking the menu card and skimming through it. "Really? I've never met a Scot who liked haggis, and yet every one of you lot I've met recommends it to non-locals."
"Aaahh," he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. "To be honest, I dinnae like haggis myself when cooked the traditional way. But the haggis tweeds are different ...more palatable. They're rolled into balls, breaded and deep-fried. I'm quite sure ye'll like them."
"Hmmm ..." When she glanced up from the menu, she met his thoughtful gaze. Though smiling, he had an odd expression on his face. "Wot?" She smoothed her hair, thinking it must be all over the place. She dreaded what her hair looked like after being caught in the rain earlier on. She wished now she'd tied it back before leaving the cottage. "Anything wrong?"
Tom shrugged his shoulders. "Just noticing ye dinnae look as upbeat as ye sounded on the phone the first time we talked. I was expecting ye to be more excited about selling me the idea of publishing my travel book. Ye kinda look as if something is bothering ye. Is anything the matter?"
She let out an exhale and placed the menu down. "I'm sorry. I've just had a rough day."
"Boyfriend problem?" he asked slowly.
She arched an eyebrow at him. Friendly as Tom was, Claire wasn't prepared to share any details of her personal life. "I just have a lot of things going on, and then you threw me out of the loop," she explained, not wanting to lie but not wanting to over-share either. "I was caught off-guard when you phoned earlier, and I wasn't expecting your call until, at least, sometime next week."
"Ye could've told me to meet at a later date. I wouldnae have minded."
"No! Today is fine," she assured him quickly. "I'm probably slowly weaning from the fast pace of hectic schedules in London, that at the first sign of change, I stumble a bit."
He grinned. "Weel, whatever is bothering ye, I dinnae like you looking so downcast. Maybe we can do something about it right now and tell ye a bit of good news. To cheer ye up."
"I like good news ..." she remarked, perking up, guessing he probably had a new picture or post on his blog he wanted to show.
"That's much better," he said when he caught a hint of a smile forming on her face. "As I was saying, I have a bit of good news. I've been giving your proposition a lot of thought ..." he shifted on his seat and took a deep breath. "I've decided I want to go ahead and publish my travel blog in print."
She blinked and swallowed before finding her voice. "But you haven't seen the projected sale and all the ..."
He waved a hand. "I'm quite sure after that impressive pitch over the phone, yer projected whatever and other wotnots ye wish to go over with me will be just as equally convincing. The idea is sold, and I'm on board."
"Just like that?"
He nodded his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Aye. Now that I've met ye in person, I'm pretty confident ye'll make sure I'll get a fair deal for my book. I'm a good judge of character, and I trust ye'll do what's right."
"Of course."
"So it's settled."
"Well, that's ...that's fabulous," she breathed, her mind rushing in all sorts of direction.
"This calls for a celebration, don't ye think?" he smiled, waving at the waitress.
Before Claire could reply, her purse vibrated. She pointed an index finger at Tom. "Hold that thought." She opened her bag and grabbed her phone. It was her boss, John Grey.
"Oh, hi, John! I'm in the middle of ..."
"Claire, I'm sorry to dump this on you," John said rapidly in a panicky tone. "Mary Hawkins just phoned and said she expects you to pick her up at Inverness Airport."
"Wot?!? But how? Why?" She glanced at Tom and noticed a light frown lining his brows. "She hasn't been answering any of my emails. What the hell is she doing in Inverness?" She knew it wasn't professional to be discussing another author over the phone with a potential client in front of her. But it couldn't be helped. At the moment, she was far too agitated to care. Mary Hawkins, the publishing's star author, had been elusive ever since she disappeared to France, and she'd been the reason Claire had decided to take a break in Scotland only to be given another job in the form of Tom Christie. "Please don't tell me you sent her here. I have enough on my plate as it is." She gave Tom an apologetic look, to which he just shrugged and smiled in understanding.
A frustrated sigh came from John. "I swear to God, this isn't my doing. She arrived yesterday here in London, and when she demanded to start work right away on her book, I assigned another editor. But she wouldn't have it. She insisted on working with you. So I told her you're in Inverness doing another project. And then she called a few minutes ago, demanding you pick her up at the airport. I swear I didn't know she was planning on flying to Inverness."
Oh, God! "John!" she whined. "I can't just drop everything and pick her up. I'm an editor, not a chauffeur! I'm in the middle of talks with Mr Christie."
"I'm terribly sorry for this mess, Claire but, isn't there anything you can do? Your boyfriend, perhaps? You know how Hawkins is a big deal for the company."
She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Claire felt she was being put in a position she didn't want to be in. On top of it all, her uncle would be arriving in two days, and there was the added worry she had with Jamie and potentially Jenny. The day was definitely getting worse by the second, but Claire reminded herself she was John's only hope, and he was a friend and had always been good to her. When she finally had the strength to open her eyes again, Tom mouthed something she couldn't quite catch.
Wot do you mean? She mouthed back, shaking her head.
"Claire, are you still there?" 
"Yes!" she snapped, tamping down the urge to curse. "I'm here!"
"Well?"
She let out a frustrated breath. There was no way out of it. "Fine, John! But you owe me big time! I'll see what I can do." Damn it!
"You're a star!" John said, relief lacing his voice. "I knew I could rely on you. I'll text Hawkins to let her know you're on your way, and then I'll text you her private number. I don't think you'll have that. It's one of the reasons you couldn't get in touch with her. Anyway, let me know later how you get on."
Before she could answer, the line went dead. What the bloody hell just happened?
Claire dropped her head into her hands and groaned. She wanted to bawl, throw stuff and pull her hair out in frustration.
"Problems?"
She raised her head and looked at Tom. "I'm sorry you had to witness that. I have to cancel our meeting. I need to somehow get to Inverness and pick up this author I'm working with." Without going into too many details, Claire quickly explained her predicament, almost forgetting to breathe. By the time she finished, she was gasping for air and wondering if Tom understood what the hell she was on about. "As you can see, I probably have to organise her accommodation as well. So I really must get going." She stood up and grabbed her bag. "Raincheck?"
He got on his feet as well. "Look, I'm not doing anything for the rest of the day. How about I drive you to Inverness. I can even help you set her up."
"Tom, you don't have to."
"Hey, I'm about to get a book deal from your boss. Let me at least prove to ye what a perfect travel guide I am as I've portrayed on my blog."
Claire stopped to collect herself. On second thoughts, she did need Tom's help, and she couldn't well impose on Willie to drive her to Inverness when he'd been taking time off to check up on her ever since Jamie left. Maybe she could kill two birds with one stone and talk him through his own book's publishing process on their way to the airport. It was a brilliant idea, and hopefully, by the end of today, John would be able to draw up a contract for Tom. With a resigned smile, Claire appreciatively accepted the offer. "Alright then, but we do need to get going now."
"Absolutely. We'll go through the back door." When Claire looked at him curiously, he grinned. "I've parked the car in the staffs' parking lot. I'm good friends with the owner, so I get the privilege to walk through the kitchen and use the backdoor," he explained. Then he leaned closer to her ear and spoke in a low voice. "And if the chef is in a good mood, he might allow us to taste today's menu."
Claire laughed out loud, attracting attention from the pub's clientele. She ignored the curious stares. It was good to laugh again after the last couple of days of feeling down, and she owed it to herself to steer negativity and worries from her thoughts. "We'll stop by the cottage to get some clothes. Knowing my client, she'll probably want to stay in a posh hotel in Inverness and want to start working right away. She doesn't do bed and breakfast or small places. So I doubt she'll want to come to Broch Mordha."
Tom nodded with a smile as he took her hand and lead the way.
Heading to the back of the pub, Claire made a few mental notes on what she needed to take with her. She also reminded herself to message Willie about taking care of Rollo and Adso while she's away, hoping he would think nothing of it when he hears from the village gossip of her meeting with Tom.
...........
Jamie caught Willie's livid expression before the car started, and they were driving down the small country lane. He knew his brother was miffed with Ian, who'd sped ahead of them after revealing Claire's whereabouts with Christie. Though common sense told him he had nothing to be worried about, it had been still a punch in the gut to hear Claire was out with another man.
"Can ye speed up a bit?" Jamie muttered, shifting restlessly on his seat.
"We're not in a bloody motorway, and there are speed limits for a reason," Willie growled, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel. "And it will do ye a lot of good to use this time to calm down before we reach Claire. It's obvious ye're not thinking clearly."
Jamie almost wished he'd taken a ride with Ian instead. They couldn't see their brother-in-law's red Fiat anymore as it disappeared at a bend further ahead. But he knew Willie was right. He wasn't thinking clearly. It's just that, why it had to be Thomas Christie of all people Claire had chosen to go out with. He had nothing against the bloke, but he was a renowned player. What if Claire had grown tired of his condition and fell for Christie's charms? It wouldn't be a difficult feat as the bloke oozed charms by the bucketload. Hadn't he lost a girlfriend in the past because of Christie? Or was it because of his condition? He couldn't be sure anymore. Either way, knowing Claire was with Christie at this very moment was burning a hole in his stomach. "So ye're an expert on my thoughts now, are ye?" Jamie grunted, unable to think of a better excuse for his behaviour.
"I dinnae need to be an expert to know what ye're thinking ... it's written all o'er yer face," Willie retorted. "If ye'd called her up in the first place, then ye would've had a fair idea why she's meeting Christie, and ye wouldnae be in this stinking shite thinking the worse. The lass has been worried sick about ye, and she's put up with yer silence more than what could be expected of her. So do both yerselves a favour and calm the fuck down, aye?"
Jamie knocked back the claustrophobic sensation and forced himself to breathe. This had always been his trouble with his PTSD. He always had these intense emotions that always grew out of proportion to a point it would suffocate him, especially negatives ones like a feeling of lacking or guilt. Wasn't that what Geneva had said? There was a lot of misplaced guilt involved? And no matter what he did to get better, it was a bloody never-ending cycle that always brought him back to square one. But despite the shortcomings, he knew it would kill him if he didn't give himself a fighting chance with Claire. He might as well die trying. She was, after all, either going to be his reason for living or the reason he died. It was all right there, shining in front of him like a floodlight. 
With a sigh, he tried to relax. Jamie knew justifying his earlier behaviour was a bad idea in both their current edgy states, but nothing would stop him from seeing Claire right now. It was like a need that required satisfying, and he couldn't wait to finally see her. He focused on the road ahead of them and listened to the radio to take his mind of negative thoughts.
It's a dreich Thursday afternoon, and here's another trip down memory lane with Mac's Classics here at MFR, with the biggest hits and the biggest throwbacks. Next up is a song sure to make ye forget the dreary days ahead – Let's get rickrolling with Never Gonna Give You Up. 
"Turn it up," Jamie said suddenly, surprising his brother.
"What?" Willie glanced at him like he'd grown a pair of horns.
"I said, turn the bloody volume up!"
"Ye're joking, right? Rick fucking Astley? Nae chance pal!"
"Just do it," Jamie huffed, not caring what his brother thought of his song choice. When Claire had told him it had made her smile listening to it in the cafe the other day, he'd listened to it as well on his mother's antique record player. It was a bloody awful song, but for some strange reason, it had made him smile too.
Scowling and cursing under his breath, Willie eventually complied, and they listened to Rick Astley's song for the rest of the way. When they reached the village centre, Willie illegally parked outside Slater's Arms, carefully avoiding bumping into the menacing bollards. They were just about to get out of the car when Ian appeared from the pub, shaking his head.
Willie stuck his head out of the window. "What's the matter?"
"They're gone," Ian replied, shrugging, perplexity evident in his expression. "Spoke to Angus, and he said they didn't even order anything. They just got up and left."
Jamie got out of the car. "Did he say where they went?"
Ian narrowed his gaze at him. "I didnae ask."
Jamie ran a hand in front of his face and got back in the car. His brother had to work. There was only one thing left he could do, and it was to go back to the cottage, and if Claire wasn't there, he'd give her a call. He turned to Willie, letting out a sigh of resignation. "Just drop me off at the cottage. I've taken too much of yer time already."
"Ye sure?" Willie asked quietly. "I can drop ye off at Lallybroch. Yer car is there. Ye'll most probably need it soon, especially with more bad weather to come."
Jamie shook his head. He was certain Claire would be at home, and if not, surely later. He wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon but had every intention of making up for lost time with her. "It's time to go home," Jamie sighed, waving goodbye to Ian. "No more running away," 
Willie smiled, starting the car. "Good choice!" 
It was a short drive to his cottage, and by the time they pulled up outside his house, the sun started to peek out for a splinter of a moment, his driveway though occupied by an unfamiliar vehicle. As soon as he saw a man's profile sat on the driver's seat, he immediately knew it was Christie. As if anticipating his next move and before he could yank off his seatbelt, Willie slapped a hand across his chest.
"What?" Jamie wheezed.
"Claire's in the cottage. Talk to her first and find out what's going on before ye jump to any conclusions."
Jamie breathed through a laugh, but he could hear it was edged with doubt. "What if I've fucked this up?"
"Ye havenae. And it's up to ye to keep that way. Now go to her. Ye'll find out soon enough there's a perfect explanation for Christie hanging about."
Words were fighting to leave his tongue, but he clamped his lips together and held them back. Vocalising the feelings raging inside his chest would only allow his emotions to run away with him. He reigned them in and took a deep breath. Whether it's a consequence of PTSD or not, he couldn't expect Claire to understand every time. So instead, Jamie gave Willie a reassuring nod and hoped his brother was right. 
He got out of the car and walked straight to the cottage, refusing to acknowledge Christie. He knew he was being rude and could feel his brother's eyes boring into his back as well as Christie's. He didn't care because right at this moment, his primary focus was Claire. 
As soon as he opened the door and saw Claire hooking a bag onto her shoulder, he bounded across the room, dropping his face into her neck and breathing for the first time in days. "Sassenach," he whispered. "I'm so sorry for leaving ye. I wasnae thinking. Please forgive me."
Claire dropped her bag on the floor, wrapping both arms around his neck. "Jamie, you're here," she breathed into his ear. "Are you alright? God, I've been so worried about you."
"I'm alright now that I'm here and ye're here," he rasped, lifting his head for a moment and eyeing the bags on the floor. "Why are yer bags packed?"
She followed his gaze. "I ...ah ... it's work, and I have to ..."
"Ye're going back to London?"
"No!"
That's all he needed to hear. Unable to wait any longer for an explanation, he pulled her into his arms as urgency pumped in his veins. He badly needed to absorb as much as he could of her, breathing her in, in huge gulps of air. His mouth travelled over her neck, into her hair, across her lips, whispering for forgiveness, his hands restless as he touched her everywhere.
"Hey, look at me ... there's nothing to forgive," she murmured, drawing away. She placed her hands on both sides of his face and searched his eyes. "I understand what you've been going through, and I know you're fighting your hardest. It's going to be alright."
"I've missed ye." He turned his face to kiss her palm before placing her hand on his chest. "I-I thought ye're better off without me. I thought I could walk away from ye, and it would be enough knowing ye're safe from me. But nothing was right. I was sick to the soul, knowing I've left ye. I wanted ye to be with a better man than me, but now ... I'm gonnae be selfish and beg ye to let me be that man by yer side."
"Jamie, where's this coming from?" she queried. "I was worried and afraid for you, but I haven't changed my mind about us." She sighed. "Your brother told me yesterday, you were seeing a therapist this morning. Did you go today?"
Jamie swallowed and nodded, unable to still his hands, touching her everywhere, needing to assure himself he was really holding her.
"Is this why you're talking like this? Has the therapy dug up a lot of unwanted issues? Because if it has, it's perfectly normal."
"No!" He let out a frustrated breath. He'd been so unpredictable with the symptoms of his PTSD coming and going, she wasn't taking him seriously when he needed her to hear him out. "No, please listen and look me in the eye. I panicked when I saw the bruises on yer arms, and without thinking, I left. I did what I did because I didnae think I could ever be the man for ye ...a bloody disappointment, constantly causing ye grief. But I understand now why my condition is out of control at the moment ... it's because I have suppressed emotions that need to come out. It's been coming out more because all this while, ye've been the key to my healing. So I'm handing everything inside me over to ye because I trust ye, and ye're the only one who can make sense of me. I cannae promise smooth sailing, Sassenach, but there is one thing I know ye can depend on and will always be constant despite my condition. And that's my love for ye. I can guarantee ye with certainty ye can rely on that. This isnae a result of my therapy talking, alright? I willnae let ye go for anything. I can work around my condition with ye by my side, and I'll work twice as hard to get better."
"Jamie, I love you too, and I have no doubt that ..."
"Then why are your bags packed?" he questioned accusingly. "And why is Christie outside waiting for ye?" 
With a sharp intake of breath, Claire quickly explained everything from the call she received from her boss to Christie's involvement and an impatient Mary Hawkins waiting for her at the airport. 
He could tell she was itching to go by the way she tried to subtly glance at her watch, but he was feeling too selfish. "How about I drive ye to Inverness?" he cajoled, his hand stroking her hair. "Willie is still outside. We'll get my car in Lallybroch, and I'll drive ye." He suddenly felt like a bastard keeping her from doing her work.
"Jamie, no!" she said gently but firmly. He knew she was restraining herself from rushing off, wanting to make sure he was alright first. "I can't be fretting about you being in a city when I have work to do. There's a possibility I'll be back tonight, but if Mary wants to work straight away on her book, then I have to stay in Inverness for a couple of nights, tops. Besides, I need to explain to Tom about his book's publication and make sure he hasn't changed his mind. Until we've drawn up a contract, nothing is certain." Her hands smoothed the hard muscles on his chest. "Besides, I need you to be here when my uncle comes. He'll be hiring a car, so he won't require picking up."
"What? Ye're uncle is coming here?" he almost shouted.
"No. I mean, uncle Lamb won't be staying here in the cottage even though you told him he could. I've already booked him a place in the village centre ...close to the amenities."
He let out a sigh of relief. He didn't think he was ready to bond with Harry's look-alike ...yet. If anything, he dreaded it, afraid of other suppressed memories dying to come out and choke him with guilt.
"Jamie, I really ought to go. I promise I'll call later and explain everything."
With a groan, he pulled Claire in once more in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, and she responded with a whimper that told him she was enjoying the kiss. He hadn't even had a second to savour getting her back before the prospect of letting her go again struck him like a baseball bat between the shoulder blades. But he wanted to give her something to remember while she's away and what she'll be missing if she didn't hurry up with her work. He slipped his hand under her cardigan, caressing her nipple with the calloused pad of his thumb and pressing his burgeoning erection against her belly.
"I love ye ...always remember that." His mouth coasted along the lines of her jaw, his hands squeezing her waist. "I ken ye've been patient and understanding with me, but just try to be extra tolerant with me for now. Can ye do that?"
She nodded, her face red from beard burn. "Alright, but I do need to go, Jamie." Her eyes flashed. "And you have nothing to worry about. So please rest up tonight because you'll need a hell of a lot of energy when my uncle comes."
It's the way she looked at him, pleading for understanding that became his undoing as if she's reading his thoughts, and despite everything he'd done, she couldn't find fault with a single one. He needed to be a better man and control his emotions and needs. Her work was important to her, and she was important to him. "Fine, I'll walk ye to the car." He stooped down to get her bags and followed her outside.
They stopped beside Christie's car, and Jamie watched the other man climbed out, both men grunting a greeting at each other. 
"Am I still driving ye to Inverness, Claire?" Christie asked, avoiding Jamie's eyes.
Claire nodded. "Yes, please, if that's still alright with you. I'm so sorry I took so long."
"It's nae bother, and of course, I'll drive ye to Inverness," Christie smiled warmly. 
A long silence stretched as the three of them just stood there. Christie rocked on his heels, and Jamie held on to Claire's bags like it was his lifeline. 
Caught up in the awkwardness of the moment, Claire bit her bottom lip. "Well, I guess that's settled then. We best get going before Mary does something like bite some poor soul's head at the airport." Claire's attempt to sound cheerful lessened the tension in the air but not the one on Jamie's shoulders. She turned to him and tried to take her bags off his hands, but he couldn't seem to let go. "Jamie ...my bags," she whispered, her hand running up and down his forearm as if to tell him everything was going to be alright.
But instead of giving Claire's bags back to her, he begrudgingly handed them to Christie while launching if looks could kill look over her head. They had a few seconds of stare off until Claire's hands on his face forced him to look at her.
"Jamie, kiss me, goodbye?"
He didn't hesitate at her request and sucked on her bottom lip as she made a sobbing noise. That wee noise she made jolted something free inside of him, and he, too, wanted to cry. He couldn't remember wanting to openly cry before. Not like this. He couldn't control it, and it dragged him down, stealing oxygen from his lungs, but Claire's touches soothed him. 
"I don't want to go," she murmured against his mouth. "Not one bit. But I'm doing this for us, remember that. The sooner I'm done with work, the more time we can spend time together." 
He allowed himself to wade into the shallow waters of comfort Claire was starting to represent. He'd lived with this reality for too long that he wasn't enough. Or probably worse, he was too much. For years, these memories of loss and guilt and shame had been subdued. Now they're coming out with guns blazing, and he felt totally defenceless. But with her arms around him, he felt cocooned in her bubble of protection. So he clung to her like a drunk with his last shot of whisky, the desperation inside him going into overdrive, and he was practically mauling her lips with no care whose watching, drawing her onto tiptoes so he could get all of her from every angle.
"Jamie," she whispered shakily, gently pulling away. "My phone is going off every second. Mary is probably wondering why I haven't called her." 
Breathe, lad, it's going to be alright. Don't lose yer cool, or ye'll drive her away. He let go and opened the car door for her, not taking any notice of the man waiting patiently at the driver's seat. "I'm sorry," Jamie mumbled.
"It's alright." She smiled in understanding, squeezing his hand. "I'll be back before you know it."
He held on to Claire's eyes, the only tangible thing he could grasp, giving him a renewed determination to manage the condition that had ruled him all his life. At that moment, the world suddenly made sense, and he was veering into a place he didn't recognise ...a place of calm, where the voices in his head had lost their dominion over his thoughts.
He watched as Christie's Land Rover drove away and was surprised when a hand landed on his shoulder. Jamie turned around to discover Willie stood there, a smile etched on his face. Jamie had forgotten about his brother, too caught up with Claire's departure and the intense emotions he'd nearly let out of control. 
"Ye did well, bràthair. I'm so proud of ye."
Jamie dropped his head forward and let out an exhale, feeling a lot lighter in days. He knew he'd only scratched the surface of their relationship, but Claire was giving him all the time in the world to get back on his feet, and he was determined not to disappoint her. Though it had been a struggle not to let his emotions take control, it was at least a start. He glanced up at his brother and smiled.
"Ye alright there, Jamie lad?" Willie playfully slapped him on the back for good measure.
"Aye, I think so." This time Jamie meant it and believed his own words. He threw an arm around Willie's shoulder, squeezed it briefly before stepping back. "And thank ye for sticking around. I owe ye one."
"Aye ye do," Willie grinned. "How about repaying me like right now and coming to work. It should keep yer mind busy and help me catch up with a long list of jobs."
Jamie didn't need prodding. His mouth curved into a smile, and he nodded his head. "After seeing Christie, I think I'm in the mood for uprooting trees."
They shared a wicked glance and then laughed out loud.
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 Dear Readers,
Thank you all for your patience with this story and the feedback from the previous chapter. 
Mental health stories are, I personally think, the hardest to put across because it involves a lot of emotions and psychological battle that are difficult to put into words. But I was determined to write this account even though it has its challenges, so I hope I've done it justice.
Part of the reason for pushing to write such a story that delves into the mind of a tortured soul is to raise mental health awareness because there are many things that people still don't understand about this illness. In saying that, some of you were disappointed by Jamie's behaviour, and I wanted that to happen to make a point.
In real life, it's so much easier to categorise and point out someone's shortcoming instead of trying to understand the psyche of a person's behaviour. From my perspective, each of us has undoubtedly suffered a form of mental illness at least once, but not everyone has the emotional and psychological strength and maturity to cope or overcome it. Nor do they have access to help. In Jamie' case, he's got a strong network of family, and he got Claire to help him get through it. 
So the moral of the story is, spread kindness because you never know what really is going on in someone's mind. 
For now, take care of yourselves. Until the next update ... X
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dailyromans · 3 years
Text
HAHA IT SURE HAS BEEN A WHILE AMIRITE
*wheeze* anywaYS sorry for dropping off the face of the planet without saying anything i fell out of interest with sanders sides for a hot second.
not to say im back into it tbh my interest in it is kinda dead now
"Why didnt u say anything u left us all hanging what about the roman doodles and all the asks left unanswered >:((" uhhhh crippling social anxiety and fear of disappointing people aha *bites lip*
plus even before losing interest i think the Anxiety of having to pump out cute doodles + funny/clever answers to peoples asks started getting to REAL BAD. plus around the time i stopped posting here my mental state was just rapidly degrading for unrelated reasons so i had to deal with that on top of everything too >:T (im ok now tho!! honestly ive been pretty great recently which is probably how i was able to gather the strength write this whole post in the first place lol)
"but whats gonna happen to this blog :(" uhh im really sorry to say this but i think ill be letting it rest in peace. i thought about maybe continuing since i still really love romans character, but i decided against it. i feel like a big charm of this little blog was seeing doodles of romans character interacting with the other sides and im just not as interested in the other characters to consistently draw them q_q
thanks yall for supporting me while i ran this blog tho!! it was my first time interacting so heavily with a fandom i was in and making people happy with my dumb doodles was enough to make me happy cry lmao. also people making other little doodle blogs??? amazing, beautiful, perfect,, plus getting to see other filo fanders sharing experiences and stuff under my filo roman posts was just AUGHH IT MADE ME REALLY HAPPY YALL >w< it was the first time i felt like i actually had a kind of impact (?) on something which was really cool. running this blog was absolutely the best part of my time in this fandom
sorry again for just disappearing qwq, but thanks again for the support and really sweet messages :D ill keep the blog up as a little archive so dw about any of the stuff here disappearing.
*shameless plug moment aha* uhh also aha if you still like my art i sometimes post on my main tumblr @audrithee and on my twitter @/costasmae its mostly dsmp now tho bc i swear that fandom just has a direct pipeline to almost every other fandom out there
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darthkruge · 4 years
Note
Hello! I'm kinda new to the whole tumblr thing so sorry if this request is bad but I was wondering if maybe you could do an imagine for spencer reid where the reader is Garcia's younger sister and Garcia brings her in to meet the team because it's her first day there. Maybe Reid recognizes her from somewhere and he will not leet it go until he finds out how he knows her? Btw it's totally fine if you don't get to this! :)
Spencer Reid x Reader ~ Piano
Summary: When a new agent joins the BAU, Spencer knows he’s seen them before but literally cannot figure out where. His memory having never failed him before, he doesn’t rest until he figures it out.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral! Reader; Penelope Garcia x Sibling! Reader
Words: 1973
Warnings: A little bit of language, I think that’s all?
A/N: Hey anon!! First off, don’t worry, love! I’m honestly new to this whole tumblr thing too, but I loved this request! I’m sorry I didn’t get to it sooner, life’s been a bit hectic. I made it so the reader is Garcia’s younger sibling instead of sister, I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to try to make writing as gender neutral as possible moving forward. Nothing against you, of course, I know I haven’t specified in past requests and I couldn’t have expected you to know, so don’t worry! That being said, sorry for rambling and I hope you like it :)
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(gif isn’t mine)
“Hello, everyone! I want you to meet the youngest of the wonderful Garcia children!” Penelope led you into the BAU where you waved a bit stiffly. You weren’t a huge fan of being the center of attention, but you knew your sister loved these introductions.
Looking around, you pieced together the people you knew from Penelope’s stories. You recognized Derek immediately. You assumed from his professional stance that the taller and older dark haired man was Hotch. Logically, that meant Rossi was next to him. And Emily and JJ were the two women, smiling and waving at you encouragingly. You smiled a bit broader, immediately sensing you would be fast friends with them. Finally, your eyes landed on what had to be Spencer. You thought he was quite attractive and, from Penelope’s descriptions, he was also amazing, talented, kind, smart, basically everything you liked. You waved at him but noticed he was almost studying you? You weren’t sure, but felt a bit awkward, confused as to why he seemed friendly to everyone else but wouldn’t even smile at you.
“Umm, hi!” You said, laughing nervously and kind of hoping to disappear. Hotch sensed your discomfort and offered you a kind smile before putting you out of your misery.
“Welcome to the team, L/N. Garcia’s told us wonderful things about you. That being said, we’re just closing up tonight, so you could finish up your paperwork finalizing your transfer into the BAU if you haven’t already and then come in for your first day tomorrow?”
“Okay, thank you, Sir.”
“Goodnight, team”
Everyone echoed the “Goodnight” before filing out of the room. You got into the car with your sister and pulled out of the BAU, reflecting on your past and thinking about the next chapter of your life.
After almost everyone else had left, Spencer was still at his desk, thinking. The certified genius, was, for once, completely at a loss. He couldn’t figure it out. Where had he seen you before? He was currently in the process of mapping out every place he’d gone to over the last few months. Every restaurant, every film festival, every face he saw in passing at crosswalks, through car windows, at coffee stands, and, still, nothing.
“Woah, Pretty Boy, slow down! What’s got you so riled up?” Derek says, walking over to where Spencer was hunched over his notebook, furiously writing.
“I can’t figure it out, I know we’ve met before or I’ve seen them before or something. I just,” Spencer put his head in his hands, eyes starting to burn a bit from the strain of writing and concentrating for so long, “I just know it”
“Seen who before?”
“Y/N, the new agent. They’re so familiar, but for some reason I just can’t figure it out”
“Ohh! Garcia’s their sister, right?”
Spencer nodded and Derek came behind him, seeing the messy timeline and pages of notes scattered around the agent.
“Are you sure you’ve seen them? I mean, we see lots of people on the job. You could have just seen someone who looked like them, you know? And come on, Reid, your memory is, like, insane . If you’d met, you’d have remembered”
“I know, that’s what’s got me so messed up.” Spencer sighed.
“Take a rest, kid. It’s late, get back to it tomorrow. Maybe they’ll visit you in your dreams…” Derek said, wiggling his eyebrows and laughing as he walked away.
Spencer laughed, hoping Derek was right. He’d do anything to get more time with you, even if it was in his subconscious. Honestly, he felt a bit bad. He’d been so caught up in figuring how he knew you that he’d kind of forgotten to actually talk to you. Normally, he’d have caught a new recruit before they left, but he didn’t get the chance with you. After packing up, Spencer went home and continued his search with you on the forefront of his mind.
Meanwhile, you had just gotten back to your sister’s apartment. You had your own place but you were new to the team and felt a bit lonely. Mentally, you didn’t want to be alone at home, too.
“Hey, Pen, what’s up with Reid?” You asked. You were confused, you knew he was quiet but he seemed to be actively ignoring you. Even stranger, you caught him intensely staring at you, as if he was trying to figure something out.
“He’s just shy, Y/N. But he’ll warm up to you, don’t worry! Honestly, I think the both of you would be a pretty good match. If you want, I can do some of my famous matchmaking!”
“Please, noooooo,” You groaned, dragging out the word.
“Come on! I’m great at it!”
“No! Remember last time? I ended up on a blind date with a guy who, within the first three minutes, told me he liked me because he saw similarities between me and his parents!! Then, he proceeded to detail their divorce for the next 45 minutes!”
Penelope was laughing hysterically, “I mean, you did say you liked emotionally available people!”
You grabbed a pillow and threw it at her head, dying in your own fit of laughter.
“Alright, that’s it, I’m going to bed. I can’t be conscious in the same house as you anymore” You say, smiling and jokingly flipping your sister off as you walk away and into the guest room.
Naturally, she returned the gesture.
When Spencer arrived at work the next morning, his eyes were bloodshot, hair was sticking up in a million different directions, and clothes were exceptionally disheveled. Anyone else and you would have thought they had a really bad (or great) one-night stand. Although you weren’t close with him, you just didn’t see him being that type of guy. You laughed a bit as he grimaced, taking a sip of what looked like extremely bitter coffee.
Deciding to try and break the ice, you went over to him. “Long night?”
Spencer’s head shot up. “Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that” He said, laughing a bit.
You smiled. Even though he was awkward, you felt at ease in his company. “I get that, I’ve had a few long nights myself. I love the job, don’t get me wrong, but the way the BAU runs is different from anything else I’ve ever dealt with.”
“Yeah. It can be a bit of an adjustment, but you’ll be fine. You’re doing great. I mean, you arrived early, so I can already assume you’re organized. And your desk is a little messy, leading me to believe you’re a creative person. Your handwriting is quite slanted, too. I recognized it from your entry forms. Did you know that’s a sign of high intelligence? Because your thoughts are moving so quickly, your hand can’t keep up in the “perfect” way, so the letters normally slant and become more sloppy.”
You were mesmerized by him. You could watch him talk for hours, truly. Sure, he wasn’t always graceful, but he was so passionate about everything he talked about. You loved listening to people talk about what they love. The way their eyes light up, it makes the energy surrounding them contagious.
Realizing he had just psychoanalyzed you without permission, Spencer looked at your sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to profile you. It’s sometimes hard to shut off, especially around new people.”
“I get that. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” You said, nodding knowingly.
As you said that, Spencer figured it out. He remembered one time visiting his mother in Vegas and hearing you say those exact words. You were playing the piano, talking to a patient who had just accidentally spilled some water on your sheet music as they took their medicine. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. I was in need of new music, anyway” You had responded, laughing. He was surprised he didn’t immediately recognize you, the beautiful and talented person he’d seen that day. But, it did make sense, in a way. Spencer’s memory is always at its highest and weakest when he’s with his mother. He can remember each of their conversations, verbatim, but everything else fades.
“Spencer? You alright?” He had been kind of spacing out for a few moments and you were afraid you did something wrong.
His attention came back to you and he smiled again, brighter this time. “You play piano.” He stated.
Your breath caught and you let out a small laugh, extremely confused. “Uhh, yeah, I do. I’m sure you’re great, but that seems extreme even for you, Mr. Profiler”
Spencer laughed. “No! I didn’t profile you, I just, I remember you. Las Vegas, March 12th, Psychiatric Hospital, you were playing piano. A patient spilled water on you. I remember you.”
“Oh, right! Ms. Owens! She’s lovely. You were there that day? Well, either that or you just gave yourself up as a damn good stalker”
“No, no, not that,” He said, a shy smile playing on his lips, “My mother’s a patient there, Diana Reid? I’m not sure if you know her.”
“Yeah! She’s quite a character. I always enjoyed playing on days Diana was there.” You reminisced for a second, lost in the memory.
“Were you visiting someone there, too?” He said, pulling you from your thoughts.
“Not exactly. My grandfather was a patient before he passed. He taught me how to play and I kind of just asked the staff if I could volunteer and continue to after he left. They were kind enough to let me. I mean, he always encouraged me to perform and I thought it was a nice way to honor his memory. A few months later I heard from Penelope that there was an opening at the BAU. I moved out, and, well, here I am.” You gestured to yourself, slightly embarrassed after you realized you might have overshared.
Spencer caught onto this, however, and quickly reassured you. “That’s amazing, Y/N. You were amazing when I heard you. I wish I could have heard you play again.”
“Thank you, that’s really sweet, Spencer.” You said, resting your hand atop his, a blush forming in his cheeks at the touch.
“Um, if you don’t have plans. I mean, not to assume you don’t have plans, just if you, you know, happen to not be busy, would you want to maybe get dinner sometime? You don’t have to, of course! I wouldn’t be offended! I just kind of want to get to know you more. If that’s alright with you.” He trailed off, not making eye contact and playing with the buttons on his shirt a bit as he awaited your answer.
Deciding to be bold, you gently turned his face to meet yours and smiled. “I would love to. Tomorrow, pick me up at 8:00?”
“Yeah! Here’s my number, text me your address?”
You smiled and nodded, taking his phone. He took the moment to just look at you. You were truly one of the most breathtaking people he’d ever met. He couldn’t believe he’d just gotten you to agree to go out with him. Even so, he wouldn’t question it. If something in the universe gave this to him, he wouldn’t risk it for a second.
You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek as you slipped the phone back into his hand. As you pulled away, Spencer cupped your cheek and pulled you back in for a kiss. His lips tasted sweet and soft and a sense of serenity washed over you as you stood in the middle of the BAU, kissing him. Everything faded away and quickly came into focus again as he pulled away, far too soon for your liking.
“More of that tomorrow” He whispered, his forehead resting against yours.
You smiled, “That’s fine by me.”
~requests are open~
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rose-sereniteeth · 4 years
Text
[1] A scandal @ Seventeen’s
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[Sereniverse]: [1]
Pairing: dom!Jeonghan, dom!Joshua, switch!Hoshi x sub!reader, (Chan cameo :3)
Word count: 1.8k
Genre & Warnings: kinda idol!au, poly!seventeen, crack, sexual themes, suggestive, maybe smut if I ever write it, sir kink if u squint, explicit language
Summary: In which the boys look way too tasty after a formal appointment and you just can't hide your feelings, leading to Joshua, Hoshi and Jeonghan showing you how good they can make you feel.
A/N: this is the first thing I really ever wrote plus the first time I’m posting shits on tumblr so pls don’t kill me :) I’m proud! Confident enough to post it... Imma prolly add the spicy part at some point, I just don’t know when yet and I’ll also not guarantee anything. Anyways I hope u enjoy this non-proofread piece of text :3 ~B
Inspired by:
"I want Hoshi's lips on my neck real bad traveling to my shoulder and collar bones and leaving marks on their way"
You felt him right behind you and you could hear the smirk in his voice "Hey there, little kitty." He stepped even closer and couldn't stop himself from touching you, his hands now resting on your hips. Your heart stopped as you kept staring at Joshua who had just leaned back in his chair, dashing smile evident on his lips. Though it was more smug than usual.
Hoshi's right hand crept up from your hip over your chest to grab your chin and tilt your head a little to the side. You felt his chest press to your back. He just wanted a taste. He lowered his head to your shoulder and used his free hand to push your hoodie away from it. He glanced at Joshua, whose smile faded slowly as he was instead biting his bottom lip when Hoshi started placing small, feather-light kisses to your skin.
He worked his way from your shoulder up to your neck, where he started nipping at the skin. Your eyes fluttered shut and you had to use all your strength to not sigh and completely melt into Hoshi's touch. You tried to steady your senses by grabbing onto Hoshi's hand that was still bending your head to the side but the quietly seated Joshua, who was watching Hoshi's every move intently, enjoying your reactions, didn't approve of that "Tssk, don't let her do that, she is not in control."
Following the elder's instructions, Hoshi took his hand from your jaw briefly to grab both of your wrists and hold them behind your back with just his left hand. As you tried tugging yourself free timidly Hoshi grabbed your jaw with his now free right hand again harshly. His voice was right next to your ear now, low and intimidating "Don't even think about it, little Kitty."
You whimpered at his words which, apparently, wasn't enough for Joshua, who seemed to be in charge of the whole situation. In the blink of an eye he stood right before you, tilting your head with his thumb and index finger so you had to look at him. Hoshi's hand had shifted and had now settled on your neck as he didn't stop marking your skin. A small noise left your lips as he delivered one particularly harsh suck to your delicate skin. Joshua came even closer. You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke "Didn't Hoshi tell you something?" He still smiled and you wondered how someone could look as angelic and yet intimidating as him. "I will punish you if you don't answer him soon, Sweetpea." His words sent shivers down your spine and heat to your core as you mumbled a little "Yes". 
"I couldn't hear you, Princess." Joshua's low voice made him even more intimidating than he already was as he stared down at you intensely. "Y-yes" you repeated, louder this time but not as strong as you had hoped. "Yes what?" He asked. 
"Yes.. Sir." 
Your brain momentarily short circuited at what you had just said and it didn't help that Joshua pressed a small kiss of approval to your hairline before getting back into his seat.
"Now be a good girl and let us have our way with you." He added, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, Sir." Joshua smiled at your obedience. "Just like that. Good Kitty."
You didn't even notice that Hoshi had let go of your wrists, his hand moving down your belly now when suddenly the door opened and a very clueless Chan entered the room, originally wanting to get his charger. As he saw you standing in front of Joshua, Hoshi behind you, holding you in place, he stopped dead in his tracks. His surprised stare quickly turned into a cheeky grin, winking at Joshua first and then looking at Hoshi, whose hand had stopped creeping downwards and whose merciless lips gave your already marked skin a break for a moment.
A soft "Fuck" left Chan's lips at the sight of you at Hoshi's and Joshua's mercy. You looked at him hazily, panting.
He shot a grin to Joshua and backed out of the room with a sly smirk to let them continue what they had started with you. 
Hoshi gave Joshua a questioning look as he waited for the go of his Hyung. It made you question what they had done in the past; how this hierarchy had formed. When Joshua gave a quick "Go on, Hoshi" you almost moaned at the stern tone in his voice. 
Hoshi then turned you around so you were facing him and slowly walked towards you. You backed off as far as you could but your back soon hit the wall behind you. Hoshi came impossibly close. He lifted his hand and brushed a strand of hair out of your face which caused your heart to skip a beat when suddenly the door sprung open yet again and an extremely good-looking Jeonghan entered the room. "I heard you were having fun without me." "Seems like the kid talked, huh?" Joshua stated with a smirk.
Jeonghan wore a black dress shirt, unlike the white ones Hoshi and Joshua were wearing. All of the boys had dressed formally today and you had almost drooled earlier when you saw them in their suits and dress shirts, trying your best to not gawk at them like a teenage fangirl. Needless to say that you failed miserably which ultimately led to the situation you were in right now. 
Jeonghan stood next to Joshua now, both of the men that had tortured you for the last minutes looking at him expectantly. It was an understatement to say that you were scared. Mostly for your sanity. Jeonghan took a moment to look at the state you were in, before he chuckled. The sound made the small hairs on your arms stand. 
His next words made you wonder whether you were in hell or in heaven. Probably something in between.
"Joshua, please close the door for me. Hoshi, put this on her eyes." Jeonghan said as he crossed the room, sitting down in the big armchair across from the bed. He loosened his black tie and Hoshi wasted no time fetching it from him, returning back to you.
Joshua immediately got up and closed the door, returning to his seat right after. A thank you was heard from the man that had just entered the room.
At the same time Hoshi turned back to you, a cocky grin on his plump lips as he took your hand to pull you to the middle of the room. You were standing right before Jeonghan now who watched you like a predator stalking his prey. 
You felt Hoshi's body right behind you as he blindfolded you with the tie he had been given. As he did so, he placed wet kisses on your neck and shoulders and you shuddered under his touch. 
"Good boy, Hoshi" you heard Jeonghan coo when Hoshi had finished what he was told. 
"Now what should we do with this little dessert in front of us?" Jeonghan questioned next. 
"Hmm," Joshua said, "she has been good for us, but not good enough yet. I believe the little Tiger should turn her into a little whiny mess, cumming on his fingers, making her beg for more." The smile was still evident in his honey-like voice but you thought to yourself that the cute and sweet Joshua you knew must have been replaced by a demon.
You could hear Jeonghan shift in his seat. "That sounds like a grand idea, Joshua, but I would want to make one simple change…" he said. "I will make her writhe and shiver, turn her into a little whiny mess and make her cum all over my fingers."
Your soul left your body.
"But-" you heard Hoshi try to protest but he was quickly cut off by Joshua "Aish! No complaining Hoshi or did you forget what happened last time?" If it wasn't for the blindfold you would have seen Hoshi's eyes widen as he remembered just what had happened last time he talked back at his Hyungs. "N-no, I- no, I did not forget. I'm… sorry. I'm sorry! Sounds like a good plan!!" He stuttered.
"Thought so" was all Joshua had to say to that, his attention shifting to you again. 
"(Y/N), Pumpkin, come here, sit in my lap." Jeonghan said, standing up to help you find him. He took your hand gently and led you in the direction of his seat. Your heart hammered in your chest like it wanted to jump out as he sat down and pulled you into his lap, your back to his chest. 
Hoshi made a small noise from where he stood and you could hear Joshua's sweet voice cooing at him "Hoshi love, c'mere baby." 
///
About three hours later Joshua was carrying you down the staircase. You clung onto him as if you were scared he might disappear as he comforted you with his sweet words and kissed your face and hair over and over again, telling you how good you had done for them.
They had wrecked you completely. You were sure that you had never felt as good before as they made you feel. You would for sure remember that night and you would probably have a hard time walking straight for a while.
When Jeonghan opened the door to the main living area you were met with ten very curious pairs of eyes. They had heard everything. Every noise you made and every moan that escaped your lips. 
"Jesus, what did you do to her?" Minghao questioned the three men that were bringing you to Joshua's bedroom as he stood up quickly, looking at your small form. Hoshi couldn't stop a small smile from spreading over his face, saying "Ah.. You know.. this and that.." as he scratched the back of his head. 
"Her neck is completely red and purple..!" Woozi stated excitedly.
Mingyu, who was seated on the sofa to the right, crossed his arms "And you didn't even tell me! I've wanted to do that for ages!!" He cried out, scandalized. 
Now it was Vernon's turn to stand up. He crossed the room and brushed your disheveled hair out of your face. "Are you okay? Is she okay, guys?" He first asked you and then the other three. He was a bit worried even if he knew he didn't have to be. Even though you didn't really have your senses under control and couldn't open your eyes properly, you heard his question and felt the need to answer "Mmmh, yes Sir. 'M good."
Hearing that, Seungkwan spat the tea he had just been sipping across the room. “YES WHAT???” He was the one looking scandalized now. 
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pfreadsandwrites · 4 years
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I would love to request smth for your 100 follower celebration 🥰 It’s so hard to decide which prompt to choose but since I’m a sucker for some good ol‘ fluff: 77: “ Are you jealous? ” and 54: “ I can’t stand the thought of loosing you. ”. I don’t know if two prompts make it easier or harder to write smth, I hope this is ok 😅
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100 follower celebration
Yet again, I am super sorry for the delay in this. Just, the weird cold i’ve had the past few days, the last one I did hardly being read, creativity, writer’s block, etc but I really hope you enjoy this @praisingkuroosbedhead !! Thank you so much for the support you’ve shown me up until now and i just realised your icon is Bisuke... I love... Also yeah i struggled a little a lot, just because I don’t think Kakashi would show his jealousy in a very obvious way, the second prompt would usually come after something kinda serious like an argument, so Kakashi having a moment of actually showing anger in his jealousy (which is what would realistically lead into the second prompt)... So i had like 3 or 4 different outlines that were way too complicated so i found this very difficult. It was nothing to do with your request though, my brain is just... empty... . I still don’t know if this one’s any good though, think i thought about it too much which made for worse writing but i still hope you enjoy! 
warnings: jealousy (duh), slight arguments, and resolution, fluff, reader being a dumbdumb, Kakashi being a dumbdumb too i guess but he’s mostly just grumpy this time, not proofread cuz my brain has gone on strike, 2.5k
taglist: @madaras-housewife @datblobbyfish @praisingkuroosbedhead @allthingskakashi @enchantedpendant @ibukiirisha @cinam00n @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @tachibrii @drunkenfists
sidenote: if anyone on my taglist could confirm they got the notification for this that would be interesting to know, but then it’s not like i can do anything about it lol.it would be cool if this showed in tumblr’s tags but i’m not holding out much hope. 
77. “Are you jealous?” / 54. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”
It’d only lasted a second, but you could have sworn you’d seen it.
No. Though you had no proof before you, you knew you’d seen it. You saw his fist clench - just for a moment - then his strong fingers uncurled, as if regaining composure. His eyebrows knitted to a point, furrowing nicely in that way you always found so attractive, but even that was quickly replaced with that familiar, relaxed gaze you were also charmed by. Even if you were a little disappointed to see it so soon.
But when you looked again, Kakashi had disappeared from the spot he’d occupied most of the night - leaning back with one foot against the wall, arms crossed as he pretended to read that stupid book of his.
Could he have straight up teleported out of there, sick of this party, your shenanigans or both? You had to admit, you didn’t put it past him. But before you had the opportunity to explore your suspicions, a louder, less familiar voice reclaimed your thoughts.
So, reluctantly, you shifted your attention back to the drink you’d been working on and the man in front of you. You hadn’t led him on - unless repeatedly mentioning your complete lack of availability fell under that category - but Kakashi didn’t know that. And though his apparent inability to take a hint was beginning to grate on you, you had to admit that it served nicely for something else. Nothing noble - namely, eliciting a damn reaction out of your frustratingly stoic boyfriend - but it seemed effective nonetheless.
Not that it had stopped the pang of guilt creeping up from the pit of your stomach to your pounding chest. Though you were willing to deny your principles, even if only slightly, you really hadn’t meant to upset him.
But you were no fool, either.
You knew exactly what you were doing tonight.
You knew why you had come out, why you had chosen this dress, and why you had asked that Kakashi come along tonight.
At first, he had refused dismissively. Like he tended to do these days. But when he saw that you were set on going, with or without him, dressed like that - he suddenly decided that he ‘would tag along for a bit if you absolutely insisted’. You had smirked, amused at how he feigned like you were forcing him, but didn’t challenge him. 
You knew just how immature you were being. You were sure Kakashi did too, but it was very nice of him to let himself be swayed despite that, just this once.
But it was the best you could do, considering the circumstances. Every date he had to cancel, every night he came back after you went to bed and every morning he was gone before you woke up - you were at your limit.
You were willing to get his attention in any way you could.
The fact that he was currently out of sight was a mild dampener on your plan, but no matter - surely it was a sign that you’d succeeded, albeit a small one.
It was big enough for you to decide to find him, anyway. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d even manage to actually talk to him about everything bothering you. Imagine that, an honest-to-God conversation! You didn’t think you were being too optimistic.
You made to slip away from the stranger attempting to retain monopoly on your attention as politely as possible. Unfortunately, his alcohol-fuelled indignation appeared to have got the best of him, and he grabbed your wrist, holding you firmly in place. You tensed, but your pleasant smile barely had the chance to transform before you felt another hand on you. On your shoulder, this time, but it was familiar.
“Hey Y/N.”
Kakashi’s nonchalant voice alone quelled that surge of anger and fear that had been bubbling beneath you. When you looked up at him, your shoulders relaxed involuntarily. Not that you had needed him exactly. You could handle an overzealous drunk at the very least, but he had that knack for allowing you to just breathe. “Hi.”
Your nuisance’s confidence dissipated just as quickly as it gathered. Evidently, he hadn’t expected to encounter the Kakashi Hatake tonight, especially not alongside you of all people. Kakashi hadn’t sounded threatening, not obviously anyway, but he didn’t need to. His reputation preceded him, and he counted on that fact - and sure enough, the other man let go of you immediately.
“Is there a problem here?” Kakashi wondered. Only the gruff tone at the end of his question belied his (potentially) aggressive implications, but it was all he needed.
“No! No problem at all!,” the other man assured, and moved back, suddenly very careful to observe his distance.
It was amusing to see the change yourself, the intimidating effect Kakashi had on others without even trying. If you didn’t know him better, you’d have felt too scared to try and mess with him in the first place.
“Glad to hear it! Now, if you’ll excuse us…,” his voice trailed off. He didn’t bother explaining himself further, or giving you time to argue, before pulling you away and through the crowd of people.
You almost stumbled, struggling to keep up with him in your heels. As much as you were happy to get the alone time you wanted, his hasty actions unnerved you a little. You noticed that his eyes were narrowed, the furrowed brow from before back with a vengeance. Was he actually angry? “Kakashi, wait! where are we -”
“Let’s just get some air.”
You couldn’t deny that sounded nice, and the peace and quiet on the rooftop was a welcome change from the raucous energy of the party beneath it. But Kakashi didn’t say anything else. He only adopted a similar position to the one he’d had inside, leaning against the roof door with his arms folded and eyes closed.
The air was suddenly… dense. This was uncomfortable. You sighed, and he peered an eye open to look at you. Still saying nothing, but at least it was acknowledgement. Taking your cue to approach him, you attempted to make sense of your current situation.
“Are you jealous?”
You asked it before you knew what you were saying. In hindsight, it was a stupid question. You knew that. Even if there were any inkling of truth behind it (and you suspected there was), Kakashi would vehemently deny it. No. He was above that - obviously. He wouldn’t allow himself to be manipulated by your obvious behaviour, by an an emotion as petty and irrational as mere jealousy.
Even as his actions belied his words, as they so typically did, as he had placed that large hand on your shoulder and led you away from your latest admirer, in that powerful but completely lackadaisical way that only he was capable of. Never realising how imposing he could be until you were up close, but never betraying that control either. God forbid he ever show that you were capable of bothering him.
When you glanced back at him, though, Kakashi was frowning again. His mask wasn’t the amazing obstacle he thought it was; you’d become quite adept at reading his expression through his eyes alone where others couldn’t.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said flatly. The subtle growl that accompanied his final syllable contrasted with the joviality your question, and it caught you off-guard. You had been cheerful enough, even teasing, but his stern glare and suddenly intimidating stature (he was so good at hiding it) cut through the levity you’d tried to bring to the situation. Suddenly, you were confronted with every implication of your actions tonight.
But you could only think of one acceptable way to shroud your nascent insecurity. Indignation and   feigned confidence. “Why is it ridiculous?! Why did you pull me away like that if you weren’t?”
“Well, it seemed like he wasn’t getting it,” Kakashi shrugged. “Did I interrupt something?”
“No! But I could have handled it,” you sighed, but you didn’t have much faith in your words. You were sure you could have, probably, but you both knew you didn’t exactly hate the idea of him - specifically him - helping you like that. Even if you didn’t always like to admit it.
He hummed, amused, and you felt like he might have been smirking under his stupid mask. “Well, that’s probably true. But you were too busy playing games to notice what was going on.”
“I wasn’t playing games,” you hissed. Yet again, your words felt empty. But you hated being so transparent.
“If you say so. Care to enlighten me on what you were doing then?”
That scar that cut through his left eye, that was so engraved into his skin did an excellent job at cutting through your defences too. He was so good at seeing through you, you were surprised at the prospect of having to explain yourself. You had the inkling he just wanted you to admit it, the asshole, regardless of what it would do to your dignity. “Well, I-I don’t know.”
Kakashi folded his arms, as unimpressed by your response as you were taken aback.  “Well, by all means, go back to him and figure it out.”
That was it. How willing he was to dismiss you, again. His tone sparked your own anger, and you were suddenly hit with the frustration of not just tonight, but of everything up until now.
“Why are you being such a jerk about it? Don’t you understand that tonight is the most emotion I’ve had out of you in weeks? I’ve tried so hard to be patient, and now I’m trying to be more obvious, and maybe this wasn’t the best way of handling it, but you don’t make it easy! You barely pay attention, then you act as if another man paying attention is meaningless, and then - Don’t you understand that I just miss you, but you don’t…,” your voice trailed off, and that dumbfounded wide-eyed stare Kakashi was giving you was the final straw. You were overwhelmed. You were exhausted. You were annoyed. How could he have the gall to look shocked while you bore your (admittedly, slightly nonsensical) soul to him? Your breath eventually caught up with your words, and the embarrassment at your rare tears and even rarer outburst lagged behind. You turned away.  
“Y/N, I didn’t mean to - I just. Hey. Don’t cry.” It was Kakashi’s turn to stumble over his words. His breath hitched. “I miss you too. I’m sorry.”
You didn’t say anything, though you couldn’t exactly grant his request. How were you supposed to stop crying, when this was the first time he’d shown any regret, any realisation, over your feelings tonight? Had he honestly no idea? On second thought, you didn’t doubt that after all. The concern in his voice was genuine, and you knew he was even worse at working through his feelings than you were.
“I can’t stand the thought of losing you,” Kakashi whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. You turned back, something in that gravelly timbre of his voice pulling at your heartstrings. When you met his sincere gaze, he quickly closed the gap between you. When his thumbs moved to still your tears, your hands travelled to meet his. This was the closest you’d been in weeks. 
“You have a funny way of showing that,” you admitted with a sniff. 
He hesitated. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t figure out how to fix it. So with work, I let myself get distracted. I didn’t know what to do about… any of it”
His words and intent eyes render you touched, but ultimately, confused. You struggled to assuage both you and himself. “You’re the one that pulled away. Don’t you get that I don’t like the thought of losing you either? But at least I was doing something about it.”
“You think that was doing something about it?” His tone was a little too accusatory, and he knew it, relenting with a sigh before you had a chance to argue your case again. “Right. You were. It wasn’t very effective, or sensible - I know, I know - but it was more than what I was doing.”
You remained silent, ruminating on his words. It was nice to hear, affirming to have some admission that you weren’t the only one, that you were justified in your feelings. But you knew you weren’t guiltless either.  “But I’m sorry. It was stupid to make you jealous. I should have just talked to you.”
“Yes, it was, and yes, you should have,” he agreed, a little too readily. You rolled your eyes, but he leant in close, as if in response, completely aware of the fact that he made your cheeks flare up. He leant down, lips dangerously close to your ear now, and went on in that huskier whisper that sent a shiver up your spine. “But it did work. It drove me crazy.  Seeing them all look at you like that. Seeing him look at you like that. Watching him trying to get close to you. When he tried to touch you. ”
Wait? Did Kakashi just say it worked? Did you finally get him to admit that he was jealous? You allowed yourself an internal cheer of triumph. “I knew it!”  An external one, too.
Never one to let you revel in your victories, least of all the petty ones, Kakashi stood up straight and went on. “Anyway. I’m sorry for being as distant as I was. I’m the one who put you in that position. I suppose I should have just talked to you too.”
“You suppose?”
Kakashi chuckled, tugging his mask down. You saw a glimpse of that genuine, handsome, smile - and you realised how long it’s been since you’ve really seen it. You were still pondering it when he kissed you. It was soft, sweet, apologetic - but much too short, and he was pulling his mask up before you could protest. “It’s nice to be gracious, Y/N. You were right. For the most part. Can’t we leave it at that?”
You gave an obnoxious sigh before grinning at him. “I suppose.”
“Thank you. Now, can we please go home already?”
You giggled, forgetting your self-consciousness for the moment, and placed a kiss on the masked part of his cheek. “Sure. Hey, make me a promise, though?”
He looked at you expectantly, even a bit apprehensive.
You reached up, your lips just as dangerously close to the shell of his ear as his had been to yours, and whispered. “Do you promise to make up for the distance, if I promise to make up for driving you crazy?”
Kakashi didn’t say anything, but you got the feeling that he didn’t have a problem with your terms. Something in the way he led you out, just as he had led you away from that nuisance. Something in the way he’d picked you up and carried you to bed that night, and in the way he held you close afterwards, his grip unrelenting. Something in that smile that you had missed so much, that was only for you.
It only lasted for a second, but you could have sworn you’d seen it.
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firstdegreefangirl · 3 years
Text
OK, I have no idea what happened to it ((my guess is that the blue hellsite decided it was snacktime and ate the thing)), but ages ago, @kitkat0723 sent me an ask prompting the following: 
May I pleaseeeeee request #11 back hugs and #15 The biggest warmest hugs 
This is my fill for that, in this text post, because Tumblr disappeared the ask when I tried to save it in my drafts. Who knows? Anyway, it got much longer than intended, but I'm chalking that up to that it's technically two prompts, one fic. Heads up, there’s some frustratedDad!Eddie in here. Everything is all good by the end, and it’s nothing too severe, but if that’s not your kinda thing, no hard feelings. Other than that, enjoy!
Eddie’s staring at his hands, wrapped so tightly around the edge of the kitchen counter that he can see his knuckles turning white. His back is strained, muscles pulled taut against the effort it takes to support his head right now. When he flexes his fingers, it’s like he can feel the bones scraping together, hear the grinding echoing in his head.
It’s like a garbage disposal, sucking his thoughts down into its spinning blades. Except that the thoughts don’t go anywhere, and he’s still stuck thinking them.
He’s the worst dad in the world, and his kid doesn’t even have a mom to go running toward.
He can’t believe himself, yelling at Chris, sending him to his room without dessert just because he copped an attitude about his math homework.
(Actually, he did that because Chris kept rolling his eyes and calling his teacher a ‘stupid jerkface.’ Eddie met her at conferences; he might not be wrong, but that doesn’t mean it’s OK to say it out loud. Especially when Eddie told him more than once to stop.)
But it’s been a long day, for both of them. Eddie’s coming fresh off of an 18-hour shift, and apparently Chris had a pop quiz in social studies he wasn’t prepared for. So tensions were already running high before Buck cleared the pizza boxes away, turning the kitchen table into a makeshift classroom. (And honestly, what would any of them do without Buck, swooping in with delivery dinner to take at least one thing off of Eddie’s to-do list?)
Then Eddie had spent 45 minutes trying to remember how to divide fractions. Every time he’d tried to suggest something – anything at all, from “let’s look in your textbook” to “I think you flip one of them upside down – he'd been met with a long-suffering sigh and an eye-roll that would make Anderson Cooper proud.
“Why do I have to do this anyway? Math is stupid, and my teacher is stupid, and I’m stupid, and all of it’s stupid!” Chris would shout, or some variation thereof.
And eventually, Eddie had had enough. Enough of trying to rationalize through it. Enough of Buck looking at him helplessly and shrugging his shoulders because he’s no more useful with fractions than Eddie is. Enough of Chris’ high-pitched whine, the way he flopped back in his chair and groaned. Enough reminding him to use his words, that he’s a smart kid, that they’ll get through this together.
Enough of all of it.
“Fine, you don’t want to do your homework? That’s fine!” Eddie had shouted, pushing his chair back from the table with enough force to wobble it onto two legs. “But if you’re not going to work on this, then you can go put your pajamas on and brush your teeth. No TV and no ice cream until your worksheets are done, I don’t care how long it’s going to take. I’m not doing this with you all night, go to your room!”
Chris had stared at him, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock, before thinking better of it and running off. The sound of his crutches echoing was enough to shake Eddie from his stupor, but when he’d looked at Buck, who was already looking back, concern etched across his face, he’d snapped again.
“I can’t sit there all night and watch him stare at a piece of paper. I don’t want to hear it from you either, OK? Just …” Buck’s eyebrows had pushed closer together, and the anger bled out of Eddie again. His voice cracked as he continued. “Just give me a minute, OK? Please?”
Then he’d pushed past Buck to go stare out the kitchen window, before he could say anything else to hurt someone he loves.
Which brought him to now, clinging to the countertop like the world might swallow him whole if he lets go. Honestly, he’d probably deserve it, for raising his voice at his son and at his boyfriend, all in one breath.
He exhales shakily, screwing his eyes shut against the tears that are threatening to burn hot, salty tracks down his face.
He’s the worst dad in the world, and he sent his kid to his room, and Buck probably left too, and there’s nothing he can do about it.
But he can’t give in to the anger, can’t let it take over the definition of his day. He remembers Frank saying something about that, how it’s maybe not a bad day, just a bad moment that he’s milking all day. And he doesn’t want to do that, especially not where Chris is involved. So he takes another deep breath, and a few more after that.
He’s still breathing slowly, counting every second of air in and out of his lungs, when he feels a heavy, sold weight drape across his back.
He relaxes into the contact, knows who it is before Buck can even slide his arms around Eddie’s waist. Buck holds him tightly, crouches down far enough to bury his face in Eddie’s neck, waits patiently for their breathing to even out until they’re sharing the same rhythm.
Buck stands there, holding him tightly and long enough that Eddie doesn't feel like the world is going to beat him anymore. He holds Eddie until he feels strong enough to let go of the counter with one hand and wrap his fingers around Buck’s where they’re pressing into his stomach. His wrist won’t turn far enough to tangle their fingers together, but Buck lets Eddie hold onto his hand, squeezes back as best as he can when Eddie tightens his grip.
And after a long moment, when Eddie finally turns himself around in Buck’s arms, Buck is still there. He’s there for Eddie to cling to, adjusts his grasp so Eddie can get his hands high enough to wrap around Buck’s shoulders and fist in the back of his T-shirt. He’s there for Eddie to bury his face against Buck’s chest and let out one last long, shuddery sigh.
And he’s there when Eddie leans back, just far enough to see Buck’s face when he opens his mouth.
“Buck, I--”
“It's alright, I know, you’ve had a long day. No hard--” Eddie cuts him off, before he can supply the word “feelings.”
“It’s not. It’s not alright. I overreacted, and I lashed out, and I’m sorry.” Eddie sighs and leans his forehead back against Buck’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have … I was out of line. You didn’t deserve that. You haven’t done anything tonight but try to help – and you have helped. I don’t know how I’d have gotten through tonight without you. Even if I screwed up royally.”
“You didn’t ‘screw up royally.’” Buck runs his hand up and down Eddie’s back, a hundred times more gentle than he deserves tonight. “You got frustrated, you snapped a little bit, but you backed off before you went too far. Eddie, babe, it happens. Trust me, from having parents who did screw up in a million different ways, I seriously doubt Chris is going to be talking about this in therapy in 20 years.”
“Oh god, Chris.” Eddie rears back again, dropping his hands to Buck’s sides, but not letting go of him. “I … I yelled at him and took away his dessert. Over math homework.”
“Over his attitude toward math homework.” But Buck’s words fall on deaf ears.
“He called himself stupid, and I yelled at him.”
“Eddie, hey.” Buck squeezes Eddie’s bicep gently until he can bring himself to make eye contact. “He’s doing good. I went back and talked with him, helped him get ready for bed. No progress on the math homework, but he’s jammied, and his teeth are brushed, and last I looked, he was working on the latest Captain Underpants book. He was a little worried that you were upset with him, but we talked, and he knows you had a long day, and he was being difficult and --”
“He’s not a difficult kid.” He’s not, truly, and Eddie had long ago promised himself that he’d never make Chris feel like he is.
“Maybe not, but even good kids have their moments. He knows that it’s not his fault, and that we both still love him very much. And you know what?” Eddie hums, but doesn’t say anything. “He asked me to come see if you were OK. ‘Dad must have had a really bad day,’ he said. ‘I think he might need some help with it, but I should stay in here, so I don’t get in trouble again.’”
Eddie sniffles, tears in his eyes for an entirely new reason now. Even after all of the mistakes he’s made – not just tonight, but especially now – he's still got such a sweet kid, with so much empathy, and the biggest heart of anyone he’s ever met. How many 11-year-olds would get yelled at and immediately want to make sure their dads are OK?
He doesn’t know for sure, but he’s willing to be that the number isn’t large.
“I should go talk to him,” Eddie sighs, finally stepping back far enough that he has to let go of Buck.
“I think he’d like that. Want some support?”
Eddie thinks for a moment, then nods. He doesn't know how he’d have gotten through this much of tonight without Buck, and he really doesn’t want to do the next part by himself either. He leads the way down the hall, but Buck catches his hand along the way. This time, their fingers fit together perfectly.
He stops at the doorway to Chris’ room, takes a second to look at his son, lying on top of the covers with his knees bent up to balance his book. He’s completely oblivious to the audience until Eddie knocks gently on the doorframe.
“Hey, Chris,” he starts, then realizes he doesn’t know where the sentence was meant to be going.
“Dad!” Chris sits up and grins. He grins, and Eddie’s heart swells. “Buck said you had a bad day. Do you need a hug?”
“Yeah,” Eddie nods, stepping forward until he can sit on the edge of the mattress. “Yeah, I think I do.”
The next thing he knows, Chris is all but launching himself at Eddie’s lap. He flings his arms around his dad’s neck and holds on tight. By the time he’s done squirming, he’s situated himself on top of Eddie’s thighs, chin tucked underneath his head.
He’s almost too big to be held like this, but it doesn’t matter to either of them as Eddie hugs him right back. One hand lands on Chris’ head, ruffles through the thick curls for a moment before gently tugging him back by the shoulder.
“Hey, you know how I always talk about setting a good example for the people around you?” Chris nods hesitantly, like he’s not sure where the conversation is going. But Eddie does, and he knows that everything is going to be OK. He takes a deep breath and continues.
“Well, I need to do that too. And tonight, that means that I owe you an apology.”
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wolfish-trickster · 4 years
Text
A block
Loki x reader
Word count: 1 548
Summary: when a writer's block hits you, your amazing boyfriend is there for you
Warnings: angst, implied smut (teeny tiny bit) and besides that just good old fluff
A/N: kinda messy oneshot, possible typos and grammar mistakes, enjoy <3
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You were lying in your bed. Raindrops were softly tapping on the nearby window, lulling you. Light from your opened laptop was illuminating your bedroom, keeping you from falling asleep.
Not the light, rather the opened tab. Word document. Empty. Not a single word. You turned your body towards wall and hid your head under a pillow.
It has been like this for at least two weeks. You used to have so many ideas, so many stories that begged to be let out of your head onto the paper. Or a computer screen.
That was a long time ago. Your head was empty now. No idea. No new adventure. No nothing.
You tried anything. Meditating, reading books and watching movies for inspiration, even writing down some of your dreams right after you woke up only to realise they make absolutely no sense.
You wanted to write again. You wanted to create. But you just couldn't anymore.
'It will pass,' you told yourself. 'It will pass and soon I'll create again. Just like before.'
~~
It didn't pass. Not one bit. You don't even check tumblr anymore. You felt miserable even without seeing all those beautifully crafted stories written by people who actually do something instead of lazying around, like you are doing now. Curled up on your couch, watching a movie you don't even pay attention to.
You felt like the laziest piece of garbage in the world. Like, how can writing be so hard? Just sit down, hit bunch of keys and create senteces. That's it. It's THAT easy. So why does it feel like the most difficult thing to do?
You groaned and hit your face with a throw pillow. 'You're stupid. So stupid. Lazy, stupid, illiterate-'
"Darling? I'm back," Loki's voice called for you, stopping your negative train of thoughts.
You stood up and ran to hug him. You could've knocked him down with the force you collided with him, if it wasn't for his godly strength. You nuzzled his neck and murmured. "I missed you. I'm so glad you're here."
Loki wrapped his arms around you and brought you close. "I missed you as well. How have you been without me?"
You smiled at him. "It doesn't matter. I'm better now, when you're with me," you stood on your toes and softly brushed your lips along his thin soft ones in a loving tender kiss.
You felt his big hand cup your left cheek, turning your face slightly to the side and deepening the kiss. His tongue met yours in a passionate dance only you two knew steps of and danced only when you were all alone. His hand slowly slid down to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer. Your fingers got lost in his coal black hair, tugging here and there, making him moan into your mouth.
You loved moments like this. When you reunited after a long separation and it was just the two of you again, two people who simply love eachother. These moments make you forget everything that troubles you. *He* makes you forget everything that troubles you. The pain and guilt over your laziness in your chest disappeares, beeing replaced by a warm love Loki was pouring into you.
After your mouths separated with a wet pop you stood there, forheads touching, eyes closed, smile playing on both of your faces.
Loki's quiet voice broke the silence. "You said you are better now, which means you were unwell before. What happened?"
You shook your head. You wanted that pain away from your chest for a little while longer. "I don't really want to talk about it. Not now."
Loki's hands moved from your waist to your hips, drawing small circles with his thumbs. "Alright. I won't pressure you. You will tell me when you are ready. I can take your mind elsewhere. Much more-," he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on the side of your neck, "-pleasurable place. If you allow me."
Of course you did. You didn't want to think about anything other than him tonight.
~~
Loki's heartbeat under your right ear slowly woke you from your dream. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his naked legs tangled with your own under your sheets.
Loki's affections took your mind off your misery, but it soon returned. It's only a matter of time till Loki asks if you'd written anything new. He always asked about your creations. His disappointed face after telling him you haven't written a word for nearly 2 months haunted you in your dreams.
It started to dawn. Loki was a morning person and with every new ray of sunlight a new wave of anxiety washed over you. What if it's the first thing he asks? What would he, a skilled poet and story writer, say about you and your inability to write even a small drabble?
"Mhm, mornin' darlin'," he mumbled with extremely raspy voice and the deepest british accent you ever heard and pressed a small kiss to your temple. You snuggled into his chest and mumbled a quiet 'morning'.
"Do you want some breakfast?"
You felt his fingers run up and down your spine. "Right now?"
"Right now."
"But I wanna cuddle with you..." you pouted at him.
Loki chuckled and pecked your pouting lips. "Tell you what my love, I'll go make a quick breakfast, then we can lazy around in our bed the whole day. What do you think? Besides, I think you need it, you are working so hard all the time the word 'lazy' and 'break' probably left your dictionary."
And there it was again. The guilt. You didn't think you worked hard at all. If you did, you'd have finished all your drafts and WIPs while he was away.
You were so grateful he had closed eyes, he didn't see the sadness crawling back on your face. You forced some strength into your voice. "That sounds lovely."
Loki then stood up, put on his favourite sweatpants and padded barefoot into kitchen. You pulled his pillow to your chest and inhaled the smell of him. It calmed you down a little. But the thought of other people being productive and you just lying in your bed being SO LAZY to even make yourself a breakfast didn't leave your head.
'I can at least reread my story ideas, maybe that will start my creativity' You sat up, your eyes fell on your table where your laptop is. Where it usually is. But its place is empty.
'Fuck'
You started to panic. You remembered you left it in the kitchen. OPENED. UNLOCKED. LOKI WILL FIND IT. HE WILL SEE.
In the speed of lightning you put on some clothes and ran to kitchen.
You were late.
Loki was sitting at the table, your laptop opened infront of him. His face was the epitome of poker face. He lifted his head and looked at you standing in the doorway. "Sorry dear, I didn't mean to look through your laptop. I was just curious if you have written anything new and- are you okay?"
You didn't realize tears were running down your cheeks until he brought you back to reality.
"I'm sorry Loki," you wiped your tears.
"Why are you sorry? Writing is your hobby, not your work. You don't have to write all the time," he walked to you and cupped your left cheek, his thumb wiping new tear away.
"I know, but.... Everyone is still writing and I'm not. I mean- writing is so easy and I can't even do that anymore! I'm just lazy a-and out of imagination and m-my grammar is horrib-" Loki stopped your rambling with a single finger against your lips, making you look into his face.
"My love, whoever told you writing is easy is a filthy liar. Nothing about creating a whole world using only your words is easy. And while you can have grammar mistakes and typos here and there, I always get lost in the story I barely notice them at all. You are not lazy for taking a break."
"But this is not a break," you hid your face in his chest, hugging him to you. "I don't have any ideas. I want to write, but I don't know what about," you felt his fingers thread through your hair, caressing you.
"Then start out slowly. Write about your memories. Small parts of your life that make you smile. They are all little stories only you know and can share with the world. And sooner than you notice, inspiration will hit you again and you will write just like before. But for now, my darling, baby steps."
His words helped you, a lot. You still kept your face pressed to his chest, listening to his breath, his heart. His fingers were gently scratching your head in a calming rhythm, his other hand kept your torso pressed to him.
"I love you Loki, thank you for helping me," you stood on your toes and kissed his cheek.
"Always my dear," he kissed your forhead. "Always."
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liberty-barnes · 4 years
Text
Letters To A Stranger
Peter Parker x Female!Reader
Summary: The story of a girl who loved a boy, but couldn't talk, so she wrote.
Warnings: fluff for a bit, but then massive angst, and i mean massive, STOP READING HERE IF YOU DON'T WANT ANY SPOILERS BUT I WOULDN'T FEEL OKAY WITHOUT LISTING ALL THE ANGST FACTORS 
(mentions of ED, mentions of self-harm, implied character death, mentions of social anxiety)
Word Count: 1.3k words
Estimated Reading Time: 5 minutes
A/N: did you miss me?
Masterlist 
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February 21st, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
Are you new? Or was I simply too oblivious to your presence until now? I've never seen you before, you're really pretty.
 I don't think I've ever used the word "pretty" to describe a man before. Well, boy, but my point stands.
But you really are. With your caramel eyes, and artistically tousled hair. You're cute. Kind of like a puppy. Not that I'm attracted to dogs, of course, but there's really no better way to describe you. Your face lights up when you talk on the phone, like an excited golden retriever who'd just been told he was going for a walk. I wonder who you're talking to. Is it your partner? Please, say you're single.
You get off after me apparently, so I guess I'll just keep my pining to my letters and hope to see you again tomorrow.
Kinda wishing I was yours,
Your secret admirer.
February 22nd, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
You're back! Is this a simple coincidence or are you a regular? 
From the backpack on your shoulder, I'd say maybe you're a student. I don't go to school. You make me wish I did if only to see your face every day for more than the short ten minutes of our joint ride.
I wonder how old you are. You look old enough to be in high school, but which year are you? I know I'm only nineteen, but I'd feel a little bummed about crushing on a fourteen-year-old.
You're smiling again today. I'm glad. I don't see a lot of smiles at the diner. Mostly glares, impatient huffs, and tired, distant expressions. It's a nice change.
I have to go now but thank you for making my day.
Hoping to see you again tomorrow, 
Your secret admirer.
February 23rd, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
I'm starting to think that smile is permanent. It's the third day in a row that I've gotten on the train and was immediately greeted with your beaming smile as you watched some video on your phone. It made me smile too.
Your sweatshirt's pretty. It says "Midtown Tech" on it. Is that a school? Is it your school? 
I may have to do some digging later.
Please don't think I'm a stalker.
Your totally not-stalker secret admirer.
March 1st, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
I was late this morning so I didn't get to see you. My boss was not happy about it, I felt like I was walking on very thin ice.
And then this guy grabbed my ass while I was taking his order. I acted on instinct, tried to remember everything they taught me at my self-defense class. I ended up accidentally punching him in the face. 
So yeah, I lost my job today. Which is why I'm here so early. I might stay on the subway just to see which stop you get off on. 
Yeah, maybe not, that'd be weird and I should start job hunting as soon as possible.
Thank you for making me smile on a bad day.
Thank you for being you,
Your secret admirer.
March 17th, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
I got a new job! I'm working at this coffee shop/bookstore and it's honestly the greatest thing in the world. I get to be around books AND get free hot chocolate, how much better can life be?
You looked a little down today, I wonder if you're okay? Is everything well at home? Maybe school's the problem? Maybe you got a bad grade, but you look really smart so I don't know.
I hope you're feeling better tomorrow,
Your secret admirer.
March 19th, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
I wish I knew your name, that way I'd know who to address this to. But I guess Cute Boy On The Subway will have to do. 
You were smiling again today, that's nice. I haven't seen you smile in a while, I was starting to get worried. The sweater you were wearing looked a little too big to be yours, the collar slipped down a little when you moved. It looks like there's a massive bruise on your upper chest. Does it hurt? Are you okay?
I wish I was brave enough to ask you in person.
Get better soon, 
Your secret admirer.
March 25th, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
You're back to not smiling today. I don't like to see you frown. Not at all. I want you to tell me what's wrong. I want to help you get better, see you smile again.
I want to talk to you.
I'll do it tomorrow, 
Your secret admirer.
March 26th, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
You were sad again today. But that's okay, cause I said I'd talk to you. 
Except I didn't.
My stomach started doing uncomfortable flips and I had to get off the train earlier than usual so I could throw up. It was not fun. 
Maybe I just have the flu?
Hopefully, I'll be better tomorrow,
Your secret admirer.
March 30th, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
I've tried talking to you for three days, every time I had to get off and empty my stomach's content. I started to see a pattern so after a half week of that vicious cycle, I went to see my doctor.
Turns out I have social anxiety tendencies and you simply trigger them a bit. So, basically, my body won't let me talk to you.
I'm a little sad but also kind of relieved. At least I know I'm not voluntarily letting you slip through my fingers.
Not that I ever plan on doing that, you've become too important.
I hope you smile tomorrow,
Your secret admirer.
April 7th, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
I'm worried about you. Your sleeve rose a little when you held onto the pole. There are scars there, familiar ones, ones that I recognize as scars left by one's own hand. Physical marks of a person's suffering.
Why are you doing that? It hurts to know that you feel down enough to resort to that. I want to help, but I can't bring myself to talk to you.
Please stop this,
Your secret admirer.
April 12th, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
Your eyes were red today. You've been crying. There are dark circles under your eyes, how long has it been since you've last slept?
A lady asked you if you were alright. You said you were just a little tired. I've never heard a more obvious lie.
I wish I could talk to you,
Your secret admirer.
April 16th, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
The dark circles haven't gone away, if anything they've gotten darker. But now there's a bruise on your cheek. You seem to be getting thinner too.
What's going on?
Your secret admirer.
April 28th, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
How much weight have you lost? Your cheekbones are more prominent, and your arms are getting thinner by the second. Why don't you eat? 
The bruises are more frequent now. Cheek, eyebrow, lip... 
Who's hitting you?
Who's making you suffer?
Your secret admirer.
May 6th, 2024
Dear Cute Boy On The Subway, 
I haven't seen you in a few days. I wonder where you are.
Are you okay?
I'm sorry, that's a stupid question, you probably aren't.
I've decided that next time I see you I'm gonna talk to you. Ask you what's wrong. Force you to tell me if that's what it takes.
I hope you're safe.
Your secret admirer.
May 27th, 2024
Dear Peter Parker, 
I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough to talk to you when I had the chance.
I hope you're in a better place now.
I'm sorry you were alone when you did it.
I'm sorry you had to do it.
With love,
(Y/n).
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yes, i'm one of those authors that post something an then disappears for two months, i'm sorry. i've been super busy with school and i haven't really had the motivation to write lately but i got this idea and i just needed to get it out.
also, i may be getting a new computer in like 1 or 2 weeks, so that's cool! it'll be better to write and stuff cause this one's getting kinda slow and sometimes it's hard to post stuff cause it won't load lmao.
anyway, i hope you liked it and if you did don’t forget to reblog/comment/like
love you all!
-Miah
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────» 
Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you) 
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