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willsimpforazula · 2 years ago

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Fight night part 3

Hello, itsa me again with another inconsistent posting schedule (mostly because i forget sometimes that tumblr exists or is a thing, but I digress.

Anyways, we here for the steambaby action (no, not that kind of action get your head out of the gutter please)

Picking up where we left off........ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Office

While the kids begrudgingly went to their rooms and packed, Sokka and Azula headed upstairs to their office to discuss their next moves out of earshot of their children. Leaning against the furniture, both of them contemplated in silence what their next moves would be. Glancing up at his wife, Sokka broke the silence by asking "Did…did we make the right call, sending them off to Aang and Kat?"

"Don't tell me you're taking the kids' side?"

"No, but it's easier to keep an eye on them here versus sending them away. I mean, what if Risa or Miska gets the bright idea to sneak back somehow? Spirits know they won't hesitate to pull off something like that."

"I-I guess." Azula conceded, her shoulders similarly slumped like Sokka's, the gravity of the whole situation feeling like a ton of rocks were saddled upon them, the unspoken question of where did it all go wrong hanging in the air as the sun steadily dipped below the horizon.

"So then what do you propose?" she asked.

"I think I can get Toph to dispatch some plainclothes cops to help out in setting up security and getting the kids to have a bug out bag on standby is not a bad idea. Beyond that, I suppose training the kids to…well, do what needs to be done."

"You and I know what it's like to have taken life in combat, I sincerely hope our kids don't have to know what it feels like. Because between you and me Sokka, I truly believe we've failed as parents if our kids have to resort to such measures to fix their mistakes."

"Then we'll make sure that they don't have to." Sokka replied, his normally calm blue eyes hardening into the colour of a roiling sea.

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Toph's house

"And you're one hundred percent about this?" Toph asked.

"Why would I lie about something that could potentially get Risa and her brother killed?" Suyin responded.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before dragging them into this mess."

"In my defense, she was the one who said yes without hesitation."

"Doesn't absolve you of your charges, of which there is more growing by the day from my officers, to say nothing about what your sister has you written up for."

"....."

"There's only so much I can do as chief of police. You get me intel, and I'll see to it that your records are sealed away and marked classified for the next 80 years. However….."

"What's the catch mom?"

"I'll have to send you away to live with your grandparents after this whole case is over and done with."

"H-how long would that be?"

"Until I say it's okay for you to come back."

"Which is?"

"That remains to be seen. Actions have consequences."she replied, walking over to the cabinet where a bottle of hard Earth Kingdom rice wine sat on the top shelf. She was definitely going to need the liquid courage to make some hard phone calls after this. Sensing her daughter was walking away, she called out "Suyin?"

"What?"

"I-I"

"Save the apologies. I know I'm not the perfect daughter like Linny is."

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Sokka and Azula's apartment

Having decided on a plan, each of them agreed that Sokka would deal with Risa while Azula would deal with Miska and talk them through what the next steps were going to be. As they stood outside their rooms, they gave each other a brief glance, before simultaneously knocking on their doors.

"Risa?" "Miska?"

"Can I-"

"-come in?"

Anxious seconds passed, before they each replied "yes."

Once in, both of them found the other seated on the floor, the order to pack their belongings for the stay with their relatives unheeded.

"Risa-"

"Miska-"

"I thought we told you to-"

"No. This was our mess to begin with and we'll stay here and clean it up. You taught us to take responsibility for our actions-"

"-so why are you telling us to shrug it off and throw it to you to clean up?"

Clearly, the twins had decided amongst themselves that they would not seek refuge, but face the threat head on. Sensing that they would get nowhere by arguing, both Azula and Sokka decided to bring them out to the living room and have the conversation both did not want to bring up.

"Risa, Miska," Sokka began once all of them were in the living room "before I begin, I just want you both to know that we really do love you, which is why your mother and I decided that sending you off to live with your aunt Katara and uncle Aang is because we don't want to see you hurt, not because we think that you are less capable than us."

Turning the floor over to his wife, Azula took a deep breath and continued "While the fact that you survived a no rules bending cage match repeatedly is a testament to how well I trained you, using it to take a life is a totally different scenario. Your father and I,we….we were children of our time, forged in war and as a result, we have…. blood on our hands. That stays with you and it's a very, very heavy burden to carry for the rest of your life."

Placing a hand on each of her kids, she choked slightly "Me and your father don't ever, ever, ever want that for either of you. At all. Your father and I aren't going to stop you if you want to stay and fight, just…I don't want to see either of you regret your choices.", her golden eyes slightly glistening with tears.

Stepping forward to join his wife, Sokka put his arm around her waist and ruffled the hair of his twins without saying a word, having nothing that he could add to make his wife's point heard and that it was up to his kids now to make the choice for themselves.

Seeing their mother come this close to tears, their resolve to stay and fight alongside their parents wavered and for a moment, they came close to acquising to their parents' wishes to be spirited away, safe from harm. Taking a deep breath, Miska gave his sister's hand a squeeze before replying "I-I understand, but I will not walk away from this fight. Mom, dad, you taught me a long time ago that actions have consequences and that we should be responsible for the actions that we take. If I run now, I….I think..I would disappoint you both even more that me and sis already have."

Now, blue and gold eyes turned on Risa, who slightly withered under her parents' gaze but swallowed a gulp and added "I believe Miska said what we both are thinking."

"I guess there's nothing we can do to change your minds. I will make the call to Toph and get the necessary arrangements done. In the meantime, could you and your sister make something for us? It's been a long day."

As the kids rushed off to the kitchen, Sokka pulled her into himself, letting her release her tears on his shirt.

"Sokka," she mumbled into his chest, "I hope we made the right choice. For their sake."

"Spirits princess, for their sake I hope so too." he whispered back, stroking her hair

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Later that evening

"Bout time you called Snoozles, was thinking you weren't gonna call at all." Toph replied when he called.

"Did Suyin tell you-"

"About a bunch of ashmakers plotting a life on your precious little prince and princess? I fucking called it that afternoon. I'll dispatch the plainclothes unit to beef up security first thing tomorrow."

"What about Suyin?"

"She'll be heading back to gather more intel."

"Okay hold up, aren't you worried about her safety?"

"That's for me to worry about. In the meantime, what are you and that purple platypus bear of yours going to do?"

"Just so you know Toph, I'm right here." Azula interjected.

"Good, at least I don't have to make a separate call to your office tomorrow. Anyways, we've spent enough jibber jabber here; what are you guys going to do?"

"We're staying put, if they come for us we'll handle it. That is, if they get past your boys."

"Works for me. You gonna send your kids to Twinkletoes' place till the heat dies down?"

"No, they're staying as well."

"Your kids got balls, I'll give 'em that. Question is though, what if they get hurt or-"

"That will not happen if we have something to say about it."

"Please, you and I have been through enough situations to know that isn't the case."

"I'd rather them stay here than risk them pulling off something irresponsible if we send them over to Aang's."

"Point noted. What are you going to do with Suyin?"

"Probably send her off to live with her gramps once this whole kerfuffle is over and the meatheads put behind bars."

"That's some grade A parenting."

"I don't tell you how to raise your kids. I'd appreciate it if you and sparky would do the same."

"Noted."

"Anything else?"

"Keep us informed if there's updates."

"Grade A parenting indeed." Azula muttered.

"One day that shit is going to come bite her back in the ass, I just know it."

"Look Sokka, she's got her reasons for doing so. At the end of the day, how she raises her kids is her business."

"Yeah, and look where that led? Our kids are now mixed up some underground fight scene because of her."

"Let's just focus on what we can do and control, okay?"

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Two nights later,

Locker room

Warehouse 8

Taking a breather after two gruelling back to back matches, Somchai was getting tended to by his gang when the door burst open and a hand tossed a brown bag into the room before the door slammed. Divvying out of the cash, they pocketed the cash while Somchai counted out his cut before putting some away, as he planned to make another trip to the information broker to gather more intel on his target.

Seeing him count out and divide his winnings into neat stacks, one of them asked "What's that money for?"

"You'll see." was his reply.

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Dining table

"Dad?" Miska asked.

"Yes?"

"Do we really have to go to school?"

"Neither me nor your mother put our education on pause even though there was a war going on in full swing, so there is no excuse. Especially given your mother and I tried to kill each other. On multiple occasions."

"Are you sure both of you didn't sneak off and make out like jackalopes instead?" Risa smirked.

"I would rather you pay more attention to what your textbooks have written down versus unsubstantiated rumours and hearsay." Azula replied, though the slight blush in her cheeks only served to confirm her daughter's allegations.

"But mom, you and dad are practically Oma and Shu but actually with a happy ending! Though I do wonder, which one between you was the initiator" she asked, placing her chin on her hands and glancing between her father and mother.

"It's too early in the morning for something like this, sis." Miska pleaded weakly, his face turning a shade of green.

"Pfft, do you know how many times I came back home only to hear you and Kaie sucking each other's face? Did you ever think about what kind of physical, emotional and spiritual trauma you and Kaie put me through? Me, your poor sister having to endure sappy face sucking noises from her innocent younger brother?" she shot back, the memory of her walking in on her brother's makeout session one autumn afternoon making her stomach churn slightly, though outwardly she maintained a posture of poise.

"We-I-You weren't supposed to be back! And-and-and it was only that one time!" he blustered.

"Sure it was." she retorted, enjoying the spectacle of watching her brother implode in slow motion while digging his own grave in front of their parents.

"Miska, why were we not informed about this….relationship of yours?" Azula asked.

"Be-because we uh…uh..weren't ready yet?"

"And when do you both think you will be ready?" Sokka asked.

"Well….we're were um, hoping to well…get around to it sometime during the full moon festival?" he replied hesitantly.

"See to it that you do." Azula ordered. " As for you young lady, don't think we've forgotten about you."

"Me?" Risa answered innocently.

"Yes you Risa, don't give us that look of innocence here. If your brother here managed to keep his dalliance under our noses for this long, I shudder to think what you have been doing behind our backs as well." Azula sternly replied, her mind already thinking of a suitable moment to have a one on one talk with her daughter.

Before Miska could reply with incriminating evidence of his sister's follies, Sokka looked up at the clock and noted "Wow look at the time, hurry up or you'll both be late for school."

"But dad!" both of them uttered.

Fixing them both with his displeased glare, Sokka put his foot down and replied "Both of you told me that you'd take responsibility for your actions. This is part of it. Now go and get ready, no more ifs, ands or buts. If I and your mother were able to finish our education in the midst of the war, when we were actively trying to kill each other no less, there is no excuse for either of you to miss school. Do I make myself clear?"

Seeing that their father was in no mood to negotiate and with their mother firmly in their father's camp, the twins reluctantly scarfed down their food and rushed to get ready for school. After they left the apartment, Sokka turned to Azula "Come to think of it, how did we find the time?"

"I don't know Sokka. I really don't know."

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Back room

Po Chi Lam Apothecary

"You should really learn to let it slide." the old man spoke as he leaned back against his chair and took a few puffs from his pipe.

"I didn't ask for your opinion, old man." Somchai retorted.

"Tsk, firebenders and their tempers." he shook his head, pouring himself a glass of herbal tea before reaching for a file in his cabinet. Placing it on the table, he swiped the beads on his abacus, sipping intermittently while Somchai devoured the contents. When he had what he needed, he closed the file and placed it on the table.

"How did you-"

"I do not ask from whence you earn your living nor how you spend it. I suggest you do the same regarding my sources." Putting down the abacus, he picked up a brush, dipped it in the inkwell and filled out a chit, which he handed over.

"That's a lot more than what we agreed upon."

"Accurate and reliable information always has a steep price tag. Whatever it is that you seek to do, I hope, for your sake, is worth the cost."

Stuffing the chit in his pocket, he stood up and made to leave the room. When he was at the threshold, he turned around and replied "What something is worth is up to the individual to determine, not some outsider."

"Suit yourself."

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Classroom 5-Szeto

Republic City Academy of Science and Arts

"Look, I think she's going to be more worried about why you weren't at school yesterday than…whatever it is you had planned until your winnings got confiscated. Also, why weren't you here yesterday?" Hyun-woo asked.

"Yeah, why weren't you here yesterday?" Berkut added on

"No comment." Miska replied, his mind running at a thousand miles a minute.

"Can't say or won't say?"

"Can't talk about it."

"Sounds like you got yourself in some serious trouble."

"Well I would be if you guys wouldn't stop speculating, so stop speculating and help me figure out how to break it to her!"

"Break what, exactly?" A familiar feminine voice interjected.

"Shit."

Immediately, Berkut and Hyun-woo exited stage left, leaving him alone with Kaie.

"That's not exactly the greeting I was expecting to get, but I'll let it slide for now. Anyways, what is it that you were planning to tell me? Nothing too groundbreaking, I hope."

Deciding that it was probably a better idea to come clean instead of beat around the bush and earn himself a verbal ass beating, Miska explained that while he still intended to do something nice for their two year anniversary, the initial plan of a fancy night out would have to significantly be scaled back due a sudden lack of funds to support said night out due to his his mother confiscating his funds and the current threat of disgruntled street fighters gunning to place his head on a pike and do unspeakable things to his twin sister.

"....so uh, yeah, that's why I wasn't here yesterday." he finished, swallowing a nervous gulp as she processed the information, her brows furrowed in thought.

"Kaie?"

"I need a moment to process. We'll talk during recess, okay?"

"You're not-"

"Not unless you give me a reason to. Which you haven't, if that's what you're thinking."

-------

Classroom 5-Yangchen

While Miska was getting grilled by his friends, over in Risa's classroom she was getting a similar grilling from her friends, who by now were starting to ask a lot more uncomfortable questions such as her recent injuries and the fact that she was slowly starting to look like a panda, of which their concerns were noted.

"Risa?"

"Yes Maki?"

"Somehow I get the feeling that there's a lot more that you're not telling us, girl."

"A girl's gotta have secrets y'know."

"Look, when you've been showing up for the past month and a half off and on with these bruises we can't help but be concerned for you. Is your brother-"

"C'mon Anju, do you really think Miska can take me on one on one?"

"Miska? Nah. But still, is everything okay with you?"

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

"Seriously?" Ji-Min asked, her face a mix of scepticism and incredulousness.

"Okay maybe not the last part, but seriously I can't talk about it. Not unless each of you promise to keep it to yourselves and only to yourselves. Especially you, Ty Lin."

"Hey!" she protested.

"In any case, are you joining us later after school?"

"About that…I uh, got grounded." Risa replied, the last part said in a small voice.

"You what?!" Ty Lin yelped, slamming her hands on the table and sticking her face into Risa's personal space, making her scoot back and almost tip over her chair, drawing the attention of everyone in the class.

"Personal space Ty!" she whispered loudly.

"Heh, sorry."

"You must have seriously fucked up for your parents to ground you." Jin Woo commented.

"You don't say."

"So…you won't be joining us later?" Ty Lin asked.

"What do you think?"

"How long will you be-"

"I don't know. Could be a week, could be a month, could be forever really." she shrugged.

"That's rough girl."

#part 3 of...whatever this turned out into #might post the full shebang on ao3 & FFN at somepoint #OCs #steambabies #sokka x azula #i mean they kinda background here but without them then there would be no twins #OC x OC (Miska x Kaie)#bone apple tea or something #sokkla #just something to get back in the habit of typing out long ass fics and shit #glib feedbacks meny tanks #AU #avatar

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jackrrabbit · 4 years ago

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Runaways /// Dabi x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You were like an older sister to Dabi back when the two of you were teen runaways together; now that he’s found you as an adult, it’s not going to be so easy to get rid of him.

A/N: I could write a term paper on all of Dabi’s pathologies in this fic...I forgot how much I love writing smutty angst. Good shit 👌

I was planning on making this a ficlet so it’s kinda structured like that even though it ended up a full-length piece. Also, Dabi says some bullshit about sex work that I absolutely do not agree with or condone so please keep that in mind.

➠ see also: [homeowners association]

Tags/warnings: Dabi victimizes you, noncon/dubcon, light yandere, threats, cheating, NTR kinda?, mentions of past sex work, degradation, rough sex (breath play, impact play, crying), mild violence, very brief mentions of past child abuse in the Todoroki household, sad stuff/angst idk lol, *Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood plays in the background*

Dabi would know you anywhere.

You’re different now, which makes sense. It’s been years. Your old uniform of raggedy denim and hand-me-down leather has been replaced with a prim linen dress, designer label at the collar. You used to dye your hair religiously (it was neon pink when he saw you last) but now it’s styled back to your natural shade, a color he only saw back then when your roots grew out. You smell good, expensive. It does take him a second to recognize you without smudged pencil eyeliner drawn under your eyes like in the old days, but once he catches your gaze the realization is immediate.

It’s you. You. You.

You recognize him too, but your reaction is different—shock, then panic; you tug the arm of the man at your side, urging him to walk faster so you can pass Dabi on the sidewalk. The rejection stings for a second, but he isn’t too surprised. You did abandon him, after all.

Dabi doesn’t let it bother him. You’re not going to get away that easy. He pulls you into conversation, grinning when you reluctantly introduce him to your companion (who is, apparently, your husband) as an old friend from school. You didn’t go to school—Dabi knows that, and you know that, but your husband doesn’t. Which means your husband isn’t aware of your sordid past as a runaway.

This is going to be fun.

Once he knows you’re in town, he doesn’t have much trouble finding you. Your husband is a very wealthy man, well-known in this city now that he’s moved here. So this is what you’ve been up to all these years? Shacking up with some ugly motherfucker who’s at least 20 years your senior because he can afford to dress you up in pretty things and take you on overseas vacations? Dabi has to admit, he wouldn’t have thought it of you. Back when he knew you, you were so sincere, such an idealist, even in your darkest nights.

Then again…you always were willing to get your hands dirty in exchange for a warm meal and a place to sleep. Maybe you haven’t changed as much as you think.

Dabi comes to your house in the middle of the day when your husband’s at work and you’re stuck at home because that’s what you are now, a housewife. From a cocksucking whore to a pretty housewife with a dirty little secret. He’s getting hard just thinking about it as he watches your internal debate on whether to let him in or not. Eventually guilt wins out and you usher him inside, hoping the neighbors didn’t see a known villain lurking on your doorstep.

You make Dabi coffee (and aww, you remember exactly how he likes it). He gets you to talking, and you don’t seen surprised to learn about his current line of work; when he presses you, you admit that you’ve been following him in the news. Your life, in comparison, has been wholly uninteresting: you met a man, he proposed, and you married him. Very little has happened to you since. After a long silence you timidly apologize to Dabi for leaving him behind when you two were teenagers, and he tells you he understands.

He doesn’t forgive you.

Overall, things are good, he tells you. But you know, sometimes he misses the old days. Being on the run with you, stealing food from gas stations, breaking into fancy summer homes and pretending the two of you lived there. Stitching up each other’s cuts, because one of you had always gotten in a fight in the past few days. Sometimes he still has dreams about the smell of the balm you used on his fresh burns…and your cool hands, smoothing gently across the tender skin on his face, but he doesn’t say that.

You look down into your monogrammed coffee mug and tell him you know what he means.

When you turn your head like that, Dabi can see the tiny dots running up the side of your ear where your old piercings have scarred over from lack of use. Do you remember when he gave them to you? You did his first, running a needle through the lonely flame of your lighter (he offered to use his quirk, but it was still hard for him to control then so you declined) and then threading the metal through his ear. You promised it would only hurt for a second, and you were right, so he let you do the others.

Then you offered to let him do yours. Just one on each ear—you already had an impressive collection of piercings, but you wanted to let him return the favor, so he did. You were older and more experienced and had lived on the streets for longer, so when he held the needle in his hand and heard your voice saying you trusted him, it was the first time he ever thought of you as fragile, something delicate, something that he was capable of harming.

He chose twin helix piercings for you, cresting the shell of each ear, silver band rings to match his. When they were done you pulled him to a mirror and asked him what he thought. It hadn’t been long since he got the worst burns on his face (the ones under his eyes, wrapping around his chin and down his neck) and he was still getting used to the knowledge that the ugly, wrinkled scars were never going to heal. “I look like…” he started.

A monster. A freak. A victim.

“A badass,” you said. “You look fucking cool. Any asshole who wants to pick a fight with you will take one look and know you’ve been through worse shit than whatever they can dish out, and that’s something to be proud of.”

Now that Dabi thinks about it, he probably wanted you even then.

…But the longer he reminisces, the more nostalgia’s going to distract him. He came here for a reason, and it wasn’t to have coffee with you and talk about the good old days. What he’s about to take from you—what he’s about to make you give—is long overdue.

You’ve still got a little fight in you. Dabi likes that. But you’ve gone soft, filling out and losing muscle in places where you used to be lean and hard from the constant running and fighting of your old lifestyle. Besides, even if you were as strong as you’d been back then, he’d still be stronger than you—he’s a man now, and it’s incredible how small and weak you seem now that he can look at you as a man.

Were your punches always this light? No way…and your wrists couldn’t have always been this delicate. It’s really no trouble at all for him to wrestle you down to the couch and pin you there so he can tear off your stupid little housewife dress and tug your panties down past your ankles.

Once he’s got you fully naked, though, you pretty much give up trying to fight him off. It’s sad, really—like you’re remembering the past, remembering all the times you let other men hold you and fuck you just so you could have enough money to take yourself and Dabi to McDonalds for a few days. And now look, you’re plenty well-fed, but Dabi’s the one holding you down against your will. Funny how things change like that.

He does appreciate your submission, since it gives him the chance to get a decent look at you. The years have been kind—you look so much healthier than you used to. No more visible ribcage stretching out your skin; no more unhealthy pallor from going outside only at night. Your hands are as soft and manicured as if you’ve never done a day’s work in your life, a far cry from the bitten nails and bloody knuckles of your youth. It’s good to see you like this, and he lingers for a second, drinking in the sight of you and committing you to memory.

Dabi’s pictured this moment for years. He used to think he’d savor it, be sweet with you, slow and gentle to show you what you were missing with the trashy guys you used to hang out with. But now, hey—he’s the trashy one, he’s the one who wants to hurt you and own you and ruin you. May as well act like it.

Your husband doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?

You’re unbelievably tight for a former whore. Dabi can barely hold out when he first pushes into you, licking the tears off your cheeks when apparently it hurts too much for you to keep up a brave face. It takes real effort to fuck himself all the way into you, pushing past the tense squeeze of your muscles while you…well, you’re not exactly wet, but he’ll get you there. As soon as his hips are grinding up against yours, he’s hitching your legs up on his shoulders and pounding you into your stuffy antique couch so deeply that he thinks it might splinter into pieces underneath the two of you.

God, you’re so, so, tight. Dabi feels like a virgin with his cock buried inside you, biting his lip so he doesn’t cum in thirty seconds and thrusting into you with a rhythm that comes from nothing less than pure animal instinct. And you’re getting into it too. Can you tell that your pleading and begging him to get off you is turning into moaning? Can you feel your hips bucking weakly back against his, reverting to the position of the submissive bitch your body remembers even if your mind has tried to forget?

It’s perfect, right and good and perfect, everything Dabi’s been waiting for since he first knew what it was to want someone—no, not just someone. You. It’s always been you. A person never forgets their first love, right? It’s perfect, except—except you won’t look at him, you keep looking off to the side and sniffling, and that’s not going to cut it. So he slows down and wrenches your head back to center and makes you kiss him, sliding his tongue over yours and trying to see if he can feel the place where you used to have a piercing there, too. It’s kind of thrilling, actually—wondering whenever his face dips into yours if you’re going to bite him, if he’ll come back from you with blood in his mouth.

He’s only got to thumb over your clit a couple times before you’re clamping down on him, your body begging to be used and abused. Your husband hasn’t been treating you right, though Dabi doubts the old bastard can even get it up without a blue pill. Sure, you look like a sweet little doll, so darling and delicate and breakable, but Dabi knows you better than that. You’re strong, you can take it. He knows you want it rough, so that’s how he’ll give it to you—and hey, hey, he can feel your cunt quivering around him—you’re cumming, aren’t you? So you like it. You like it.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long before, but when you cum and tighten and squeal so high he thinks you could lose your voice, the tension in his abdomen rises up and he digs his fingers into your hips and—shit, you’re saying something, what are you saying? You’re pleading, begging him not to cum inside—but, ohhhhhh fuck he can’t help it, he can’t, he can’t, he’s cumming all the way deep into your tight little snatch, cockhead jutting up at your cervix, fucking his semen all the way through you until your slit is smeared white from top to bottom.

Stop crying. Dabi’s sick of hearing you cry.

You’re still pretty nimble, even though your current exercise regimen probably doesn’t extend beyond periodic jogs around your neighborhood and weekly pilates with all the other bored trophy wives. He’s kind of surprised when as soon as he lifts himself off of you, you have the strength to roll off the couch and scramble around on the floor for your clothing.

You don’t say anything, which he wasn’t expecting. You don’t scream at him, demand that he leave, or ask him how he could do this to you after everything the two of you went through together. You probably still think of yourself as an older sister when it comes to him.

When you’d first met the scarred kid trying and failing to live off the streets, you knew he wasn’t cut out for this. He’d known pain before, plenty of pain (icy-blue fire roasting the skin off his face—spiral fracture from callused hands twisting his arm behind his back—cold, aching muscles after what he thinks is the fifth hour spent locked in a closet), but he’d never known hunger. Hunger was a different kind of beast, one that would chew the kid up and spit him out and leave him broken if you didn’t take him under your wing, so you did.

It wasn’t like you had much of anything to spare, but you made it work. For a few years. He didn’t talk at first, but he took what you gave him, so you gave him what you could: food, if you had it; a place to sleep at night; the knowledge you’d gathered in your own years as a runaway on how he was supposed to survive in a world that didn’t care whether he lived or rotted away in a gutter. You cared.

Until you didn’t.

‘Going to be traveling alone for a while. Don’t wait for me. I’m sorry,’ your note had read. You left it in his backpack along with $43 in cash—not much, but he knew it was more than you could afford. It was all you had.

And now you have all of this! Don’t you feel lucky? You have the rich husband who barely looks at you, the big house with so many empty unused rooms it makes him sick, more food than you could possibly eat in one lifetime. All of that, and you also have Dabi’s semen leaking out of your cunt. It’s a real rags-to-riches story, he thinks.

Dabi picks a cigarette out of his jacket and you stop fixing up the buttons on your dress to ask him not to light it inside. How will you explain the smell to your husband? Every move you make, every syllable that comes out of your mouth, is weighed down by despair. You look like you’ve been beaten.

He lights the cigarette anyway.

///

Before he had you the first time, Dabi thought once would be enough. Pretty naive, huh?

He makes it his mission to fuck you in every room of your husband’s gluttonously enormous mansion (what with your history Dabi has a hard time thinking of the house as yours, and considering the way you tiptoe around and seem like you’re afraid to move so much as a vase, he suspects you feel the same). There’s a lot of rooms.

When he shows up at your door again you don’t even bother to hear him out, instead just trying to shut it on him, but he forces his way in. You wouldn’t want to make him mad, would you? Not when he’s got such a filthy secret hanging over your head? Will your husband keep paying for your designer shopping trips when he knows you’re a street rat who used to steal everything she wore? Will he still kiss you goodnight when Dabi tells him you used to wrap those pretty lips around strangers’ cocks for money?

If you want Dabi to keep quiet, you’re going to have to convince him the best way you know how. A cockwhore is a cockwhore. That’s not the kind of stain you get to wipe away with time and distance and expensive clothing.

In the kitchen: standing up, your back to his front and your hands barely holding you up on the counter, so hard and rough and deep that the dishes are rattling in the pantry. One of your teacups falls out of the glass china cabinet and shatters into a million fragments in a four foot radius over the tiled floor. Neither of you notice until after. Blunt red lines press themselves into the tops of your thighs where he’s shoving your body into the edge of the counter and there are bruises on your tits from how hard he’s groping you.

In the dining room: sitting on the edge of the table, one of your legs hiked up beside you and the other on a chair while Dabi kneels on the ground in front of you, his head between your thighs and his tongue flicking over your pussy. You start off thinking that you’re going to have to sanitize the entire mahogany surface before you can eat off it again and then he licks his lips and sucks on your throbbing clit and you don’t really think about anything else after that.

In your husband’s study: doggy-style on the floor in front of the fireplace, facedown, his body folded over yours, pressing you so deep into the tacky lion-skin rug that you can taste it. He sighs in your ear—actually, you’re not sure if it’s a sigh or a growl—and his hand comes up to cover yours. You feel the metal stitches and the rough burned skin scraping on your own and it reminds you that it’s him. It’s Dabi.

(A few days after his 13th birthday, the Dabi you used to know told you that he was going to dye his hair—he wanted to be unrecognizable, and you understood, so you found some old scissors and stole hair dye from the pharmacy and you spent three long hours chopping his hair into rough spikes and painting it black. When you washed the dye out of his hair in the sink, your hands were stained inky black too. When he saw, he looked worried and weaved his fingers in with yours and asked if the dye would hurt your skin if it stayed on too long.

And you looked back at this kid—small for his age then, burned by his own quirk, trying so hard to look older and tougher than any 13-year-old should have to be, and you thought to yourself, I would die for you.)

Now you hear Dabi growling out your name and squeezing your hand as he reaches his climax and you think, I would kill you if I could.

///

Dabi saves the master bedroom for last.

Your husband is hosting a party at your house. Dabi knows because you begged him not to come today, looking up at him with those doe-like eyes, offering things you never would have offered if it weren’t important to you that he stay away on this particular evening. But he still comes to crash it. He arrives just minutes before your husband does, and you have barely enough time to tuck him away on the dark bedroom balcony and pull the curtains closed before your husband is opening the door and greeting you.

Dabi settles himself into one of the tasteful Adirondack chairs on the balcony and listens to your voice, or at least what he can hear of it through the sliding glass door. You’re sweeter with your husband than you are with Dabi, and he should’ve known you’d be, but it still makes him hate your husband more than he already did.

On the other hand, there’s something strained and high and nervous in the way you’re speaking. Probably because your husband is standing about twenty feet away from the man you’re cheating on him with.

It takes a while for the two of you to dress for the party, but finally Dabi hears you tell your husband that you’d like to take a little longer to get ready and bid him goodbye. “Love you,” you say to the old man as he leaves the room, so casually Dabi might not have heard it if he wasn’t listening.

Then you’re opening the door and ushering him inside and telling him anxiously that he has to get out before anyone sees him. But, oh, you look nice like this, dolled up in your evening gown and makeup and diamonds, trying to pull him to the door even though you must know by now that he’s not going to leave it there. Instead of following, he backs you up onto the bed and peels down the straps of your dress and slides his hands up under the skirt, and all the while he can’t stop thinking about what you said to your husband.

You used to say that to Dabi.

The first time it was an accident—you’d mentioned it off-hand during a night when it was snowing and his unnaturally high body temperature was the only thing keeping the two of you alive. “God, I love you,” you’d said, draping your arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close to share his heat.

It had stunned him and you could probably tell. Maybe the next few times were just you taking pity on a kid who had never been told so casually and so simply that he was loved. But eventually you meant it, the little love you’s before you went to sleep or when one of you went off to do something alone for a few days—a familial love borne of mutual reliance. For the years Dabi was a runaway with you, you were the only person he could trust, and he knows the feeling was mutual.

Now he wants you to tell him you love him again.

It would be hot, wouldn’t it? You telling Dabi you love him while he forces you into a mating press on the bed you share with your husband. Isn’t that hot? You’re never going to be able to sleep on these sheets again without remembering his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, his cock filling you in ways you haven’t been filled since you were 19.

How are you gonna lay next to your husband in this sad cold bed? ‘Cause that old fuck isn’t touching you, Dabi knows that much—if he was, he’d’ve noticed by now that you’re always covered in bite marks and hickeys that he didn’t give you. How are you gonna sleep at night knowing what a nasty slut you are, telling another man you love him?

So say it. Say you love him.

Oh, you’re going to be like that, aren’t you? What did he tell you about being a fucking brat when he’s talking to you? See if you’re still so defiant when he’s got his hand stroking the length of that pretty throat and then sealing down on it, squeezing gently on the veins running up the sides of your neck, not too hard, but enough that you’re probably getting a little dizzy while he continues to fuck into you. Does it hurt? Your face is turning pink. Uh-uh-uh, don’t try to pull his hand off, or he’ll show you just how good he is with his quirk these days.

You’re trying to choke out the words but you can’t quite make them make sense. There’s something endearing about the way your whimpers vibrate through the skin of Dabi’s palm, how he can hear you as well as feeling you. Oh—could you say his name too? He knows you’re feeling all fucked-out and wet and sloppy, every moan rising and falling in time with his cock stretching your pussy open, but can’t you give it a little more effort? He’s sure you can get his name out if you really try.

And if you’re not going to cooperate, Dabi may as well just dig the heel of his knuckle into your windpipe, because you really do tighten up so deliciously when you cough and sputter like that. Fuck, if you keep doing that, he’s going to cum, gonna cum right here in your syrupy pussy and spill it all over your marriage bed—but no, he wants to hear you say it first, so when you’re gagging and turning red and your eyes are watering he finally stops choking you, loosening his grip just enough that his hand is resting on your neck in a lover’s touch. It takes you a second and your voice is so hoarse he can barely hear it, but then you’re speaking and something jumps in his chest—

“I…I love—love y-you, Touya!” you sob. “I love you! I—love you, Touya—Touya—Touya—!”

And ah fuck it’s almost exactly right, your voice saying you love him, saying his real name, a name he hasn’t heard for years because you’re the only one who really knows it anymore—but you’re crying, real heavy sobs while you gulp in frantic lungfuls of oxygen. Your ribcage is heaving underneath him and—god, fuck—your guts are clenching, sucking down on every inch of his cock, every vein—

—oh shit fuck fuck he’s cumming, and he presses his face into your neck, into your hair, kissing you and thinking I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you—

—please stay, forever.

///

When he’s done, he goes for another round just to make sure you’re going to have cum dripping down your thighs when you go back to the party. No panties, unless you want him to walk through the grand foyer with all the other guests on his way out.

You don’t look at him as you fix your dress and your hair and wipe at your smeared makeup. With your eyeliner rubbed down to the bottom of your eyes, Dabi’s reminded a little of how you used to look—and the reminder is doubled when you slide your legs across the side of the bed and limp over to your vanity, walking hesitantly, your hips rocking from side to side. Damn, did he fuck you that hard?

Reminds him of the old days, you shuffling back to the hideout with that same awkward pain in your gait, purple marks around your neck, and a dim smile decorating your face—for his sake. Oh, and cash in your pockets. You’d tell him that the two of you were going out to eat that night and refuse to let him look at the injuries. God, it made him angry, it still makes him angry just thinking about it—angry at the men who bought you for treating you like that, angry at you for letting them. Angry at himself for not being old enough or strong enough or rich enough to stop them.

Anger, yes…and other things too. There had been a sick, insidious part of him that wanted to be in their position. He’d hated himself for it back then, until you left and the desire to punish you for abandoning him got twisted up with the desire to own you and keep you his. Maybe if he let himself think about it, he’d still hate himself for what he’s doing to you.

By now, you’re too good at covering up the bruises. A sweep of foundation and powder passes over each hickey he left on your throat and it’s like he never touched you. You have to push him off the bed so you can strip the sheets and replace them. When you’re done, you tell him to wait a few minutes after you leave to sneak out the back and he makes another half-joke about joining the party and introducing himself to your old man—

—and you shove him up against the wall with all the strength left in you, wrap your hand around his neck, and dig your fingernails under the line of piercings in his cheek. If he even looks at your husband, if he even thinks about it, you’ll rip his goddamn face open, you tell him in a low snarl.

It’s an empty threat (you and he both know who would win in a physical altercation) but there’s real hatred behind it. Dabi hasn’t seen that kind of fire in your eyes since he found out you became a trophy wife. It makes him want to have you again so he does, pulling your arms away from his face, standing and holding you up against the door to your bedroom, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him to keep from falling.

He’s lubed up by his own cum, and the wet squelching of your pussy just reminds him what a mess you’re going to be when you return to high society tonight. Maybe your husband will be able to smell it on you—the cum, the sex, the other man who’s been keeping his darling wife warm while he’s at work.

Well, probably not. If that stupid fucking cuckold hasn’t figured it out by now, there’s not much of a chance he’ll get it on his own. As Dabi sinks into your tight, gummy cunt again, he decides that he might just have to help the process along. A man deserves to know if his wife is being unfaithful, right?

///

Your husband’s office phone number is written on a post-it note that’s tacked to the desk of his study. It takes Dabi 40 minutes and $30 to buy a burner cell phone, leave a message on the man’s voicemail, and toss the burner in the kitchen trash at your house while you’re in the shower.

The message is short and straightforward. Dabi introduces himself as ‘the man who’s sleeping with your wife’, describes the floor plan of your husband’s house and what position he fucked you in for each room, and finally finishes it off with the evidence—the precise size and location of every hickey he’s left on your body that will still be visible by the time your husband returns from work.

Dabi almost wishes your husband had picked up the call—he’d’ve had a good time explaining in pornographic detail the way your tits look under those too-formal dresses, the way you moan when you cum in his mouth, the way you told him you loved him while he choked you out—with your husband in the house, no less. But this is fine too.

Besides, it’ll be so fucking funny if someone else at your husband’s company hears the message before he does.

///

Whore. Your husband called you a whore.

You’ve been called a whore a lot, actually. More than most people. You should be used to it by now. But it’s different when your husband says it. Your husband, the man who rescued you from a life of poverty and starvation, the man who has given you everything you own, the man who slid a ring onto your finger under a wedding arch and promised to love you in good times and in bad. The man you’ve almost convinced yourself you love back.

He called you a whore and slapped you when you tried to explain yourself and shoved you out the door and locked it. You can still hear his voice telling you the only place he wants to see your face again is in a casket.

So that’s why when Dabi comes to collect you, you’re hugging your knees to your chest on your front porch in your shiny lace-edged slip nightdress, hair in a mess around your head and your lip bleeding onto your chin. Your feet are so cold—your husband didn’t even give you time to put shoes on before he threw you out.

The night is cool and dark but the porch light buzzes on for half a minute when Dabi climbs up the steps to come crouch next to you on the doorstep. You try not to look at him, but he tilts your face toward his, electric-blue eyes skimming over the red mark and blue-black discoloration blossoming across your cheekbone; the blood drying on your split lip.

Dabi asks calmly if your husband hit you, and you nod.

Good, he tells you, and his body lights up blue in a roiling cloud of flames. He’s been waiting for an excuse to kill that old fuck.

The fire is like lightning, bright and ghostly in the darkness. The crackling of the flame eats away at the heavy silence of the night and you crawl back from the dry heat of it, sure you can feel your eyebrows singeing from being near. Dabi looks different backed by the inferno—bigger, crueler. Frightening. He reaches at the door but you shout at him to stop.

Why? Don’t you think he should suffer, after what he did to you?

But your fists clench by your sides and you set your teeth and you tell Dabi that if he’s going to kill your husband, he may as well set himself on fire too, because it’s his fault in the first place. And he’s done a lot worse to you than one slap.

Dabi waits a moment, searching your alarmed expression for something, but whatever he’s hoping for you don’t give him and the flames go out. The air smells like smoke and his hands are hot—not burning, but uncomfortably hot—when he kneels in front of you and rubs a thumb over your bruised cheek.

“(Y/N)—” Dabi starts, and then he can’t find a way to finish. So he just gathers you up in his arms and carries you bridal-style down into the lawn and to the driveway, where he’s got a car waiting to take you guys back to his place. You don’t resist, which surprises him again. He thought you’d push away at him, scream, get angry—he thought he’d have to convince you. Or force you, like he usually does. But you just let him deposit you in the seat next to the driver’s.

Before he gets in, he asks you if you need anything from your house. He can go get it for you. See if any balding motherfucker in his forties can stop him. But you just shake your head.

“There’s nothing,” you say blankly. “I have nothing. I…have nothing.”

Just like back then.

“Not nothing,” Dabi tells you, turning forward to the road so you can’t see the look on his face. “You have me.”

///

In the end, he does understand. He understood it the second he held that goodbye note in his hands and knew you were lost to him.

You were 17 when you met him and 19 when you left—hardly older than a child yourself. You barely had enough to provide for your own needs, much less a teenage boy’s. By the time you left, Dabi was more than capable of surviving on his own and already falling into ugly crowds, gangs and syndicates who saw money in his quirk, people you’d sacrificed a lot to keep him away from. He no longer needed you, and it was time for you two to go your separate ways. Dabi understands that.

But now you need him. Just like you needed him when you were fucking strangers for food money; like you needed him when you ran away; like you needed him when you got trapped in this mundane, sparkling-clean life, a life that was never going to fit you. Only this time—this time, Dabi’s old enough for you. He’s not a kid anymore, he’s a man. He’s got an apartment and a good job (well, kind of) and he’s got money. He can provide for you the way you’ve always needed him to.

Dabi’s going to take care of you, and you’re never, ever going to leave.

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catwithangerissues · 4 years ago

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Haikyuu Polyship hc’s!

♚ Hey hey hey! Welcome to a little collab that @tetsurocking and I have been working on for a few weeks now! Like two but still. We each chose three different couples and wrote headcanons about a poly relationship with them!

♚ My three!: Suna x Osamu x Reader! Tendo x Ushijima x Reader! And Futakuchi x Shirabu x Reader!

♚ Make sure to check out the three couples J wrote about over on her page! I promise you’ll find some stuff ya like😉 ‘I think about polyships too much for a monogamous bitch’ -J 😂 Anyways, enjoy!

♚ Warnings: Should be none! Although I reference high school in the past, everyone involved is aged up!

Suna x Osamu x Reader Poly!

✧ When you guys were in high school, Rinta would always send you videos of Osamu and him at practice; sometimes they were videos of the twins fighting, some were of them doing little tricks with the ball to get your praise, and some were just of them waving/saying they missed you

✧ They tend to spam your little group chat with memes while you’re at work or school, and sometimes they just spam you for attention <3

✧ They both really like it when you wear their clothing. Sometimes they get pouty if you wear one shirt or the other, but they never genuinely mind. In addition to this, they basically share a wardrobe. Is that Suna’s shirt or Samu’s? They don’t even know 🤷🏻‍♀️

✧ Suna probably sends you two pictures of the ugliest things he sees in a day and and puts a caption like « haha that’s you two. » that’s it. He probably doesn’t even bother to put a period at the end (Thanks for this one, Alma!)

✧ Suna takes tons of pictures with/of the two of you, and he changes his lockscreen background pretty often because of it. His favorite pictures are the ones he takes without you two noticing, hehehe

✧ These two are both really great drivers and they’re very smug about it. Food for thought 😌

✧ When you’re grocery shopping, they probably start eating what’s in the cart before you’re even out of the store.

✧ In addition to grocery shopping, don’t even TRY to tell Osamu one brand of a certain ingredient or food is better than another, he will throw a Miya Twin hissy fit™️ lmao

✧ They both keep extras of anything any of you may need in their cars. Period stuff if you’re someone who has one, hygiene products like deodorant and an extra shirt for Suna after practice, snacks for Osamu cause the poor boy always wants to eat in the car, etc.

✧ They both like to tease, but in reality they’re big softies for you. Want cuddles? Rinta is always flopping down on top of you once you sit on the couch. Need a back or shoulder massage? You don’t even have to ask Osamu at this point, he does it subconsciously.

✧ Suna prefers dates at home, lounging around and cuddled up, movie nights, dinner dates, etc. Osamu prefers lazy errand days. Going grocery shopping, cleaning the house together, dropping something off to Atsumu or grabbing lunch on the way home, he enjoys the domesticity of life with the two of you.

✧ DOING THEIR HAIR. Styling Suna’s hair for him in the morning or helping Osamu touch up his color before he goes back to brown.

✧ Holiday decorating, birthdays, and anniversaries are always fun with these two. To others, they’re relatively reserved, with a few sarcastic comments to spare *cough cough* we all know who I mean- But to you, they’re rambunctious and sweet. Making stupid jokes to see you laugh, babying you, all the like.

✧ Someone picking on you or getting a little too friendly? No need to worry, your two tall ass, intimidating boyfriends have your back. Suna is more of the- glare daggers at them until they get the hint- kinda person, but Osamu is definitely the- throw my arm around my partner and tell the other person to back off- one.

✧ Going to Suna’s games with Osamu to support him! Osamu once pretended to be a fan and asked for his autograph, and when Suna just looked him dead in the face and kisses him everyone around lost their minds.

✧ You and Suna visiting Osamu at work and bringing him lunch so he doesn’t have to make it himself! He has pictures of you three in his office too <3

✧ The boys visiting you at work/school saying it’s to playfully embarrass you, but usually it’s something like; bringing you lunch, coming to pick you up for a spontaneous date/adventure after you clock out, or just coming to sit in your office and bug you for a little while to get your mind off of work.

✧ They are both pretty possessive, but aren’t controlling. They just like to hold you, though Suna is the more reserved one of the boys when it comes to pda.

✧ ^That said, they like to show you off- a lot. Showing pictures of you or the other boy to their coworkers and teammates is a favorite of theirs.

✧ Whatever hobbies you’re into, they like to sit and watch you do. Reading, cooking (with Osamu?😌), baking, art, music, video games, etc. They just love to watch you do your craft! You’re so supportive of them and their dreams, the things they love, they try to repay the favor any chance they get.

✧ Suna is definitely one to just sit his head on your lap or shoulder and listen to you talk all day about something you love <3

Tendo x Ushijima x Reader Poly!

✧ Tendo has a massive collection of hoodies and he loves it when you two wear them. It makes him so happy to see you guys in something that’s his, a physical symbol that you two want people to know you’re with him.

✧ Both very affectionate partners, in their own ways. vv

✧ ^Tendo wasn’t very fond of pda at first, more so he wasn’t comfortable with it because he thought you two would be embarrassed to be seen with him. Once he found out you two weren’t embarrassed of him and wanted to show others your relationship, he was all for it! Usually likes to hold your hands or lean on one of you.

✧ ^Ushijima is more subtle with his affection, not because he’s scared or embarrassed, just that he prefers to do it in private. He knows you two know he loves you, so he doesn’t really see the need to be all over you in public. But in private? That man is always hugging you or nuzzling into your shoulder- he’s like a giant teddy bear.

✧ Ushijima loves to do all the domestic shit with you two. Cooking, cleaning the house, running errands. He’s just a sucker for feeling like a lil family with his two cuties.

✧ Tendo loves to plan the dates! Though if you want to, he’ll gladly let you! He likes to plan little day adventures for the three of you, whenever Toshi doesn’t have practice or training!

✧ Tendo likes to have his nails painted by you, and Ushijima likes to watch you two <3

✧ Matching nails with Tendo??? Mhm😌

✧ Protective boyfies! Let’s be honest here, it’s unlikely you’re gonna have too many problems with these two giants standing next to you. But if there ever is one, they definitely scare off whoever is bugging you quickly.

✧ These two are some of the most comforting people on here. They both had their share of not so great things happen to them growing up, Tendo being bullied and Ushijima basically being treated like a brute. The two of them became really good at comforting people, knowing how it feels to not have someone there to comfort you when you needed it.

✧ They’re big on cuddling to begin with, but if you’re ever sad or stressed? Prepare for Tendo making a pillow fort and Ushijima baking your favorite treats. These two are incredibly supportive and comforting when you need them <3

✧ Ushijima once got so fed up with Tendo being a little brat, he threw him onto his shoulder and walked around the house like that for a good half hour. Tendo thought it was hilarious and so did you

✧ Speaking of, he seems to really enjoy carrying the two of you around at random times. Piggyback rides, bridal style, or just like a koala clinging to him, he loves it.

✧ Tendo can sense a mood change in the two of you like it’s nothin. Seriously, the guy just knows when something is bugging either of you.

✧ The boys definitely ask if they can get a pet when you move in together. Tendo has a long list of crazy animals and Ushijima keeps suggesting a hedgehog for some reason.

✧ Regardless of what you decide on, you know these two are going to treat your pet like their baby. They’re going to spoil tf outta that little fella. 100% Tendo takes a million photos of them everyday. Ushijima doesn’t baby talk, he just talks to them normally about random things like volleyball and it’s pretty comical.

✧ Visiting Tendo at his chocolatier shop! He usually has very long days, and gets extremely happy when you two pop in to see him. Please bring this baby some lunch or dinner, he’s not a big eater and often forgets too. He has pictures of the three of you in his office too <3

✧ Watching Ushijima’s games and practices! This boy can’t get enough of the praise you and Tendo offer him! He loves seeing you sport his jersey with his name on the back, and he says seeing you two in the stands at practice or during a game really helps his focus?

✧ If you’re someone who has a period, these two are so sweet and thoughtful to ya. Tendo always makes the best chocolate, and Ushijima is basically a walking heater, he runs you hot baths too! Both handle mood swings very well and always make sure the pain meds are stocked in the house. 10/10 boyfies

✧ Please let Ushijima have as many house plants as he wants. He loves them and names each of them, he’s let you and Tendo name some before too! Catch this big teddy bear talking to his plants while he repots or waters them and your heart will melt </3

Futakuchi x Shirabu x Reader Poly!

✧ Salty, sarcastic, teasy boyfies- if you’re easily flustered, prepare yourself, they are going to use it against you. Calling you nicknames and saying things they know will make you start to stutter at any chance they get. (Lookin at you, Futakuchi) (please don’t think I’m making fun of people with a stutter, I have one myself.)

✧ Very protective, though they may not show it as often as some others do. Someone messing with you? You bet they’re next to you in an instant- offering several sarcastic remarks and a menacing glare from Shirabu, Futakuchi throwing an arm around you and bending down to the creeps level to further the intimidation.

✧ Both very comforting partners, if you’re feeling anxious or upset they’ll gladly take you into a big cuddle pile. Petting your hair or cheek, and telling you all the sweet things they can think of to see you smile.

✧ ^ Shirabu picks up on your insecurities very easily, especially if they’re similar to his own, and helps you learn to cope with and improve your mental health. Futakuchi has a gift for comforting people, always knowing what to say to make you feel 100x better about yourself or anything that’s bugging you <3

✧ Let’s not even get into what they’d say or do to the person if someone hurt your feelings, let alone made you cry. We’ll leave that to your imagination.

✧ Very competitive with each other. They constantly play fight for your attention, making comments about who’s shirt you wore today or who you ate lunch with- but it’s all in good fun.

✧ Futakuchi is a sly bastard, he really loves to fluster and tease tf outta you and Shirabae. For example: When Jirou gets mad at Kenji, Futakuchi just calls him his pretty boy or compliments how cute he looks when he’s angry and Shirabu becomes a complete flustered, stuttering mess.

✧ Going to visit Shirabu at work and/or bring him lunch! He doesn’t like to admit it, but he really does appreciate when you two come to visit and eat with him, especially during long shifts where he doesn’t get to see or talk to you two very much. He always becomes a blushy mess, waving off his coworkers with a glare when they comment on it- or when Futakuchi points it out

✧ Going to watch Futakuchi’s games! He’s very open with his appreciation for the two of you coming to watch his games! Either of you wear an extra jersey of his and it’s game on. He’s mindful to ask if you’re okay with hugs after, since he’s usually pretty sweaty, though.

✧ Of the two of them, Shirabu is the more perceptive one. He can easily pick up on any of the changes in mood the two of you may have, and it makes it easier to solve any issues you may have, rather quickly.

✧ In your relationship, Shirabu also gets frustrated the easiest. Whether it be with himself or the stresses of work and school, he finds himself getting frustrated and overwhelmed rather easily.

✧ You and Futakuchi are masters at calming him down by now, pulling him into a cuddle with lots of affirmation and he feels better in no time, offering to help with his work and take a bit of the load off cheers him up quite a bit too.

✧ Your boys are both very loving and cuddly when sleepy.

✧ Both getting overwhelming soft when you’re being cute, they just start to overload. Whenever you do anything remotely adorable, they can’t help but dote on you. SOFT BOI HOURS

✧ HEAD PATS! That is all. :)

✧ Futakuchi is the type to kiss you hard during an argument while Shirabu is the type to sulk and then come over to you later that night asking to cuddle.

✧ Random hc, but Futakuchi’s car is a fucking mess, I just know it.

✧ Saw this somewhere else, but it fits him! Futakuchi says yes ma’am/sir with a huge shit eating grin.

✧ You three have a good system when it comes to planning dates, taking turns every week or so, although Shirabu tends to prefer slow days/nights at home, given his busy(er) schedule.

✧ Another random hc, but I think Futakuchi has some sort of energy drink addiction and Shirabu is constantly nagging him about cutting it out of his diet because he aggressively cares for that boy.

✧ “Stop drinking that, idiot. It’s bad for you.” “Aww, Jirou~ are you worried about me?” “Shut up,,”

♚ Hope you enjoyed our little collab! Go check out @tetsurocking ’s part on her page! Believe me- it’s good😭 be warned! It does have nsfw content! Mine was gonna but some of you can’t follow rules😤

Taglist: @sunalma @toworuu @lovie-and-co (for your boys😌)

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oitommothetease · 3 years ago

Text

Invisible String (4/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 2.6k words

Warning: 18+ (discussion of assault, nervous breakdown, anxiety attack, just don’t read this whole series if you are a kid)

You woke up to a night of dreamless sleep like you always did, but then the events of the previous night hit you. You wished it was a dream, but one look in the mirror and a bruise running along your cheek was enough to confirm. Not only that, but you remembered asking your boss to stay over, but you didn't expect him to. The blanket on your living room’s couch and the bowl of fruits and a glass of juice situated out for you on the kitchen counter proved that he did stay.

And then the reality sunk in, you have a decision to make. You can either go to the cops or let that guy get away. The latter sounded not so great, but you knew going to the cops isn't going to be great either. You've seen enough detective shows to know that. You've had enough, and you just wanted to forget it.

What did Mr. Barnes mean when he said you were going to talk about this? Are you supposed to visit him before work? Is he going to come to your place?

You decided to work on your book but ended up not being able to concentrate, so you started watching a show and fell asleep while watching it. Maybe some Chinese take-out could make you feel better. It didn't. Nothing made you feel better. You wished you had some friends in this new town because you didn't want to burden your work friends.

After a horrible day of trying to cope, when you finally made your way to the club, you noticed the security was increased. Usually, security guards weren't present inside the club, but today it was different. Everyone was so vigilant and you felt a little safer. If you didn't know any better, you'd think Mr. Barnes did it for you, but again he would have done the same thing for any other employee.

"Boss wants to see you," Pietro told you. You were about to head for Clint's office when the blond twin spoke again and pointed his finger towards the stairs." The boss."

Okay, well maybe playing naïve couldn't avoid this meeting, so you slowly walked upstairs. How bad could this go, it's not like he saw you in your most vulnerable state? Oh, wait, he did.

You knocked on his office door, wanting to rip the band-aid and get over with it.

"Hey," you said, faking a smile. "Thanks for getting me home last night and for breakfast today. I didn't even know I had fruits and juice at home because let's be honest, I'm a toast and coffee kinda gal."

Mr. Barnes didn't say anything, he just looked at you as if you were a confusing puzzle that he couldn't solve. He raised a hand towards the seat in front of him and you took it, nervously fiddling with your fingers under the table.

“You do that a lot, you know?” he asked, it wasn't a question, it was merely an observation.

“What?”

“Deflecting a serious issue by using a joke.” Mr. Barnes observed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What are you? My therapist?”

He arched an eyebrow, indicating that you were literally doing the thing he pointed out.

"Yeah, well, it's called having a healthy coping mechanism. You should try getting one, brooding is only gonna help you this far."

"It's not healthy if you're not dealing with it," Mr. Barnes pointed out.

You scoffed in incredulity and you felt very, very attacked.

What is it? Attacking y/n day?, you thought.

"Anyway, I think I want to press charges," You changed the subject to a more serious conversation to avoid him calling you out on your bullshit.

"Okay, I understand.”

“You do?” You asked, bewilderment clearly written all over your face. “I mean, letting an employee go to the cops is not gonna be great for your club's reputation and yours too. And, you know, considering the shady business, you do-”

"What exactly do you think we do?" He asked.

And that's when it hit you, you didn't know what he did or mob bosses do in general. All your knowledge about it came from movies and Wattpad, both of them are not a great place to gain knowledge.

“What exactly do you do?” you pondered.

He obviously wasn't expecting you to directly ask him, nobody has directly asked him or even made it known that they are aware of his work. It was kind of like a silent pact that everybody signed for, everybody except you, apparently.

“Um, you know, I've been working for almost 2 weeks here now, and I haven't seen any drugs around here, so it's obviously not drugs. You don't look like the sex trafficking types-”

"Jesus, woman!" He exclaimed, offended by your assumptions.

"Then just tell me what you do."

You expected him to tell you something, but he just kept looking at you with a face void of emotions.

"Fine, don't tell me," you mumbled, raising your hands dramatically in defeat.

“So you don't mind me ruining your reputation by going to the cops?”

“I told you I don't care. Your safety is my utmost priority,” your face might have given away the surprise you felt because he quickly backpedaled. ”I mean, the safety of my employees.”

“The safety of my employees is my utmost priority,” he told you, providing an extra emphasis on the word employees. “Anyway, one of my people would take you to the police station near-"

You cut him off immediately.

"No, you can't tell anyone else. I don't want everyone hopping on the pity train. I'm already ashamed that you know about it," you pleaded but your voice was firm, telling him that this was not up for a discussion.

At this, his eyes and features softened. Bucky didn't want you to feel guilty or ashamed for somebody else's actions, but clearly, you did.

"Okay, then I can take you. You just had to explain to the officer last night’s events, and they'll ask you to recognize Rumlow and then we can-"

Mr. Barnes’s voice faded into the background when it finally hit you.

"You know what, I changed my mind. It's too much. I don't want to press charges anymore. I didn't think this through," you backtracked. You did think this through, but now all the factors were adding up in your brain. You'd have to explain the details to a cop who is probably going to be another man and a stranger, and then they'd ask you to identify the guy. You didn't think you had it in you to face him. At least not now.

He interpreted your thought process and promptly changed the topic. "Okay, we can work with whatever you want, and at least let Peter escort you home after work."

"What? No!” You quickly declined.

“It's for your own safety,” Bucky tried to reason. He wasn't letting you get off this easily.

“I'm a strong, independent woman and I'm not scared of anything.”

That was a lie. You were scared of many things like heights, dark, spiders, confrontation and the list goes on and on.

You remembered all the lectures your mom gave you telling you that women should be scared because men are monsters, and you'd lose your honor if you are reckless and some other patriarchal crap that you didn't pay attention to. But you weren't scared, you were just always careful. You'd always put the keys between your knuckles when you went home alone. In your previous job, you used to laugh it off whenever your coworkers made a sexist joke. You'd ignore the subtle shoulder touch that your previous boss did. You told yourself that this is what it takes to make it. If you were to run away every time someone eyed you in a wrong way, then you'd spend your whole life running.

Women usually shrug this behavior off as it is what is, but the truth is it shouldn't be like this.

“Please, I insist.”

“I'm very capable of taking care of myself. Just because one bad incident happened doesn't mean I'll fucking break!” You stated, your voice louder than your regular voice to get across your point.

That was also a lie. You were walking on a thin line and you were ignoring your emotions. You were one outburst away from a breakdown, and you just couldn't bring yourself to feel anything.

Mr. Barnes tried to call your name, but you were already bolting out of his office.

You needed a drink. No, fuck that. You needed multiple drinks. It wasn't exactly wise to get drunk during work, but it couldn't get any shittier than this, right?, you thought.

Right?

Wrong. It could get way shittier than this. Now it was almost midnight, you were kind of tipsy, and you could see two Mr. Stark, your regular customer, in front of you.

Did he have a twin? Is he and his twin brother one of those identical twins that dress up the same? Because that's what it looked like.

“Earth to y/n," Mr. Stark said, or was it his twin? It was getting hard to keep track anymore.

And that's when you noticed.

“Holy, Shit. You're triplets, Mr. Stark," you announced.

"Okay, kid, close my tab.”

“Hey, y/n. Are you okay?” Peter asked, noticing the concerned look Mr. Stark gave him before leaving.

“Yes, I'm fine. Absolutely fine.”

***

Turns out you were not fine. You've been pretty much hammered for the past week, and you could barely get a sentence out without giggling or slurring. Your colleagues took notice of your state and whenever someone pointed it out, you'd just shrug it off as a bad day or a bad week. There was no concept of time in your drunk state.

You couldn't concentrate on your book, you could barely look at someone without squinting, and you've been eating takeout and leftovers for the past few days.

James would have fired if someone working under him was this irresponsible, but he knew your reasons. He knew you clearly weren't coping with the trauma well. Your work ethics were shoved down the trash that even Clint asked why you weren't fired yet.

Bucky didn't want to talk to you, he thought that maybe giving you some space would do you good, but clearly it wasn't working. Usually, the mob boss didn't interfere in the affairs of his employees, it was Clint's job, but when you smashed a bottle on the head of a customer, he had to interject.

“I TOLD THIS FUCKER NO!” you yelled, Peter’s hand around your middle from behind. Another empty beer bottle was in your hand, ready to be smashed across the face of the drunk dude in front of you.

Pietro and Wanda were enjoying the show. Peter, being the peace lover he is, held you back when you smashed a bottle across a drunk customer's face. Even though Peter was younger than you, he was stronger, and he was not only holding you back but also himself. He didn't want to cause a scene and that is why he was mulling comforting words in your ear like, he's not worth it, you're gonna kill this guy.

Damn right I am, you thought.

It was ironic because everyone in that club had killed someone except you.

When Bucky walked into the room, the drunk guy turned towards him and pointed at you. ”You are hiring crazy bitches now? Just called her baby girl and she went psycho!!!”

Bucky didn't understand what was happening. He told the security guards to take that man outside his club and he walked towards you. He firmly yet gently took a hold of your left arm, signaling Peter to let go of you. Without a word, he started walking in the direction of his office, dragging you along with him.

Once near his office, he lightly yanked your hand and shoved you inside, making you stand in front of him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he inquired, having had enough of your incompetence.

You were seething with rage. "Wrong with me? I told him no, but he didn't listen."

Bucky stepped forward, his anger dissipating into sympathy. " I know, he mumbled, "and I'm so-"

"No, you don't know!" you yelled, body trembling and tears welling up in your eyes. "I told him no multiple times, I even tried to push him off me, but he just kept coming back."

Bucky's eyes furrowed in confusion. He didn't understand your words, the drunk customer didn't touch you. And that's when he realized, you weren't talking about the drunk customer. He cognized that the drunk guy purely triggered something that you've been suppressing for days now. Bucky was aware that you needed to get it out of your system to cope healthily.

“I told him no, you know? But he just wouldn't listen,” you stated, trying to convince yourself that you didn't lead him on. ”And he was so…. so strong and… and then he hit me and everything just went blur, I couldn't see but... but I could still feel him with me.”

Not realizing that you were not in that place anymore, you wrapped your hand around yourself to seek some sort of protection and comfort, bottom lip quivering, the welled up traitorous tears were streaming down your face and all you could think about was that night.

“I… I can't get his touch out,” you stammered. ” I shower, multiple times a day, but I still can't get his touch out.”

With that, you broke down completely and shattered on the floor, sobbing ferociously. Your knees ached because of the position you were situated in, but the emotional pain was enough to overshadow the physical one.

For once in his lifetime, Bucky did not know what to do. Cautiously, he made his way towards you and knelt down in front of you. He did not know what to say or do to make you feel better.

You launched your body towards him, snaking your arms around his shoulder to settle on his neck as if he was the only thing grounding you. You lurched onto him like he was your anchor, and maybe he was. It took a minute for Bucky to register your actions, and when he did, he wrapped his arms around your middle and closed the minuscule distance separating you.

He surprised himself with the way one of his hands automatically reached for your hair and whispered words of comfort in your ear. He caught you as you crumpled physically and emotionally.

”You're going to be okay, doll,” he whispered and kissed your temple with sincerity. ”I will make sure of that.”

The second part was barely audible, it wasn't meant for you, it was a promise he made to himself.

Bucky held you tightly yet gently while you sobbed on his shoulder.

He didn't know how long he held you, it felt like an eternity to him with the way he could feel the guilt and rage inside him. When you passed out in his arms, he gently placed you on one of the comfortable couches in his office and draped a blanket around you that he had for when he would work late at night.

An office chair might not be the most ideal place to spend the night in, but it didn't matter to Bucky. All that mattered was you.

TAGS: @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21 @emmabarnes@goodcleanfunsis @valsworldofcreativity

#mobster bucky #mob!bucky #mob bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mobbucky x reader #mob!bucky x you #mob!bucky series #mob boss!bucky #mob boss au

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polarisbibliotheque · 3 years ago

Note

hello!! I love you and your writing! ^^💕💕

i was wondering if your requests were open? if they are well...

there's this one idea i had and it was about how the Sparda twins would react to meeting an s/o that was somehow taller than them? and what they would think?

it's simple ik but, it got me curious lol

once again, love your stuff- keep it up! you're doing great !! 💕✨✨ ^^

Hey there!! Thank you so much for your kind and beautiful words! It certainly put a smile on my face and made my day better - I would even say worth it! ^^

Well, regarding that idea, I wrote more on what I think rather than a scenario...? Because there is so much going on behind it, I felt like I'd have to explain myself! Hahahaha

Without further ado... Dante and Vergil with an s/o taller than them

Upon first meeting their s/o, I think both Spardas wouldn’t have reactions regarding their height – kinda for different but equal reasons.

Dante wouldn’t say anything and treat them normally simply because it’s Dante. He was mistreated his whole life and decided to live away from society because he has something that makes him different – his demonic half. Given that, I think Dante would be extremely accepting to different people and their ways, even if they were considered “weird” by society’s standards.

I mean, look at the Devil May Cry and the crew. They are all weirdos – Dante is like a home to people who can’t fit in. Therefore, I think he would treat another person taller than him completely normally, not batting a single eye. If they are a hunter like him, Dante would most probably talk about their abilities rather than their height. If they start out as enemies, than yeah, he’d probably make a pun or two regarding their height (picture Dante teasing the hell out of Lady Dimitrescu and making almost sexual puns, in his playful manner, and her answering in the same wavelength – they’d be that sort of “friendly enemies” and it would be the fight of a lifetime. I’d pay to see that).

But you know… His s/o wouldn’t be safe after the curse of intimacy with Dante.

Now for Vergil, I think he wouldn’t say anything regarding the person’s height upon first meeting because Vergil kinda doesn’t care about anything but power – but not that “I need more power” crazed Vergil, so let me elaborate.

Again, Vergil grew up surviving on his own as a demonic outcast. He tried so hard to get rid of his humanity – so he definitely met all kinds of demons and people along the way. And I do mean all kinds. Therefore, I think Vergil is almost on the same wavelength as Dante regarding not caring about people’s backgrounds or differences – but differently than Dante, it isn’t because he is that kind of “if you don’t fit in, be welcome ‘cause there’s no judgement here” sort of person, he’s more like a “I don’t care how the hell you look like or how you present yourself, I care about how powerful you are” in a… Self-defense sort of manner.

You know those people who carefully watch everyone and silently make their acquaintance – in his case, all while gripping the hilt of the Yamato? I think that’s how Vergil reacts to people in general. He doesn’t trust anyone and he will assess how powerful they are to see if they deserve his respect or if he doesn’t have to worry about being suddenly attacked. So, upon meeting a taller s/o, I think he’d be more worried about seeing what their intentions really are than actually minding about such “frivolities” like height. And that goes for friendly or not encounters – differently from Dante, I don’t think he’d banter regarding their height, only regarding their power.

Ok, now… What about established relationships?

Dante would be such a goof. Probably teasing his s/o all the time – but not in a manner to make them feel self-conscious about their height. It’d be more in the lines of “Bet a tall glass of water like yourself can put a demon like me down, wanna test, babe?” or something cheesy like that. He’d be all about those bad pickup lines that would sound so great just because it’s him. Imagine like:

“Wow, is it just me or powerful, beautiful deities are falling from the sky already? ‘Cause ya know, someone wonderful like yourself just can’t be from this Earth.”

“Oh my, you’re awful.”

“It’s my humble human nature, my lovely deity.” Proceeds to bow humbly while his s/o rolls their eyes and laughs at the same time because he is such a certified GOOF.

Also, do expect a lot of worship and Dante jokingly treating them like a deity because “you’re so tall, beautiful and mighty”. He’d most certainly carry this to the bedroom – power plays and worship would definitely ensue… Because you know, he is big, tall and mighty™ all the time, but he’d gladly give it up while around his s/o. I guess it’d be his way to relax from work and from everything he carries from life, you know?

Vergil, I think, would be… Normal. I mean, like I said before, I think he’s more the kind to mind about power than looks – he does have his standards, but I don’t think someone taller would put him off or matter much to him. On this subject, I think Vergil is more used to physically different creatures than Dante – because, well, I think he has more of an experience of living alongside demons instead of just killing them, like his twin brother.

So – and this is a personal opinion – being used to different creatures ever since he started to survive all by himself, and not having much of a normal childhood, Vergil certainly was bound to be used to the more human like ones who are actually taller or much taller than him. For instance, succubus or the likes – beautiful, demonic women who are taller or the same height as the son of Sparda.

I think, again personal opinion, he doesn’t have much of that human notion of “oh, this is so different because it’s so rare to find people like this” – for all demons and humans he encountered in his life were so drastically different from each other and what really matters is what they are thinking and feeling, not how they look like.

That being said, I don’t think Vergil would care much about that. He would love his s/o deeply and care for them, praising their beauty, intellect and – if they fight as well – power. I do think, though, in more intimate settings, Vergil might bring it up, if they have A LOT of trust and intimacy built over time.

Such like, in a very unexpected manner, after bantering a little with their s/o about the most mundane thing, he’d say something like “Well, well, look at who’s thinking height means power” with a slightly fun smile hidden on his lips, clearly as a little joke between them. All in all, he’d only do this as a way to make them laugh or smile, as a little something to amuse them.

Like Dante, I don’t think Vergil is immune to power plays – unlike his brother, though, I think it would take a VERY LONG trust building time to get to that – but I bet Vergil would secretly feel a sort of relief upon giving up the tall, stoic and powerful™ demeanor for a very few moments.

Regarding being protective, I think both are in the same wavelength: they’re protective towards everyone. Period. If they are tall, small, human, half-human, powerful, weak, whatever… Dante and Vergil will protect their s/o fiercely. It doesn’t matter.

Even if their s/o goes like “You know, those guys are half my height, I can take them with one arm strapped behind my back”, Dante would say like “Well, but I’m half demon, I’m stronger than you, babe. Why don’t you sit this one through, huh? I got this.” And Vergil would just go “Don’t you dare move.” And judgement cut everything and everyone around them before they could even say something else.

Phew! That was a long one, right? Hahahahaha I’m so sorry I didn’t really write something and just wrote a lot about what I think, but I felt like it would be interesting sharing this!

I do think for similar and un-similar reasons, they are both very chill people regarding physical appearance/personal tastes of others, precisely because they are outcasts themselves. I thought it would be nice elaborating on that thought rather than writing a situation without explaining ^^

I hope you like it, though! Once more, thanks so much for dropping by and leaving kind words on my ask! It's very much appreciated!!

#devil may cry #devil may cry headcanons #dmc imagines #vergil sparda #dante sparda #dmc headcanons #dmc vergil #dmc dante #polaris answers #answered asks #I did have fun thinking and wirting about this!#Again I'm sorry I didn't actually write a scenario #but Dante and Vergil's motivations are always interesting to breakdown

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hella1975 · 3 years ago

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Actually hella do you have any fic recs where osamu and atsumus bond is really strong? kinda like in burden of blame? their sibling bond in that is so sweet and i want to read more of it bc i too love my siblings very much (i say as i argue with my sister about her getting crumbs on the carpet) and i read 4 Years by lettersinpetals recently and if you've read that you know exactly why I'm looking for those specific fics

oh i have in fact read that and know exactly why you're looking for those specific fics. ive managed to retain my love of osamu but i actually struggle with kita solely bc of that fic and it ENRAGES me bc he's literally lovely and im just here like shut up shut up you're nothing

I GOT YOU LET'S GET INTO IT

how to scare away your brother's boyfriend: a tutorial by miya osamu by matchumu - PROTECTIVE OSAMU LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO this is just a cute short thing but it has fantastic suna being a miya-whisperer content, fantastic loved-up sakusa content, fantastic oblivious atsumu content, and of course, the creme de la creme, fantastic overprotective osamu content. the shovel talk of shovel talks

it's a twin thing by internetpistol - this is a purely miya twin fic with background sakuatsu and sunaosa. it's actually not a fun fic per say bc it's a whole 'prank gone seriously seriously wrong' type of thing but it IS heartwarming and i just absolutely adore the love and faith the twins have in each other

the 'this love isn't crazy' series by lettersinpetals - (ironically also the author of four years lmao). i love this series so much it's such a feel good read and i love kiyoomi's characterisation just bc i think we can do nothing as a society but gain from having sakusa kiyoomi be a high maintenance bitch. there's some particularly good miya twins in the fourth part of the series but honestly the whole thing is golden. it's about sakuatsu falling in love but it's done via MSBY vlogging the whole thing

a liar's truth by internetpistol - (this is one of the 'carries sakuatsu nation' authors so honestly just check out their stuff, same as lettersinpetals). this fic a classic and is handled so beautifully. i said last time that i usually avoid fics that look like they're just gonna be smut but i took a chance on this one just bc id heard so much about it and i dont regret a thing. it IS rated explicit for a reason but if you do read it then just the handling of sakusa's internalised homophobia is so gorgeous and painfully raw, and it really fucking got to me lmao. but you asked for miya twins so im here to deliver bc this fic gives us ALL of the miyas being lovely and supportive. osamu is constantly there for atsumu in this particularly near the end and i just love them <3. if you dont know, then this fic basically tackles sakusa falling head over heels for atusmu and spending ages just firmly in denial, and the challenges they go through as a result. it's heavy at times but it's a happy ending dw

three roses and a smile by strawberrycitrus - uni professor's au! and they hate each other! i might just be a bitch but i kinda thought that either atsumu was way too nice or sakusa was way too mean in this (if he'd said half of that shit to me i would have battered him university regulations be damned) BUT it's still a really cute 20k one-shot and the miya twins are so funny together off the bat. i just absolutely adore the mental imagery of MIYA OSAMU telling SAKUSA KIYOOMI to fuck off just bc he upset his brother. like. it's poetry in motion actually

play among the stars by buttonstuck - i recced this last time and i'd like to be clear it's not technically miya twin content in that osamu is actually hardly in it, but without spoiling it i'll just say atsumu cares about him so so much and it means the world to me. also it's just a really good fic

#enjoy anonstie <3 #every day i surprise myself with just how much haikyuu fic ive read lately like it's actually fucked up sdhgkjhg #good for me good for me #if anyone else has good miya twins fics pls send them my way #bc i like anon have been scarred by four years #kita i swear i love you im just recovering #ask #miya osamu #miya atsumu #miya twins #fic rec #haikyuu

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angelz-dust · 3 years ago

Text

masters of none - part 4 (jason todd x reader)

summary: after many months, we are back in action and back in reader’s head. pls enjoy these jason crumbs. if you need a refresher on the plot, the other chapters will be linked below!

word count: 3.7k

warnings: food/eating. alcohol. cursing.

part 1 /// part 2 //// part 3

gravity

ever since i ever felt ya, right there life couldn't seem better. tulip flowers in my sweater. ask me now, is this forever?

…

you rested your chin on the table before you, your arms hanging limply between your knees as you listened to your manager, dana. you were really just watching her mouth open and close while she pointed at a powerpoint. god, what you would've given for an extra hour of sleep. the all nighters in the studio were starting to take a toll.

the feeling of the back of daisy’s soft hands brought you back to earth. the smell of cocoa butter dancing beneath your nostrils as her smooth engagement ring rolled across your cheek. you breathed in her smell, exhaling in content through your nose.

“you good?” she mouthed and you closed your eyes, giving her a little nod. the bassist rubbed her calloused fingers against your forehead, pushing strands of your hair past your hairline. you pouted when she eventually pulled away, leaving you only with the sensation of touch that once was.

you heard tyler shift in his seat and then felt some air graze against your hand. you looked under the table, noticing he was holding something out to you. you two made eye contact briefly before you scooted back in, grabbing what felt like an envelope. looking down at your lap, you saw a sticky note attached to it. jason’s money was what it said. you carefully put the envelope in your jacket pocket, sitting back in your seat now and looking at dana’s powerpoint. she was going over reports from your publicist, jerry, which you didn't particularly care about.

“now, i have to ask,” dana’s words pierced your bubble of inattention. “have you all thought about what i said about this next album?”

jordy raised his hand like a school kid. “yes?”

“y/n and i decided that we'd be okay with making our album a group project. it has been, admittedly, kinda hard and boring without everyone else. we’d honestly be doing ourselves a disservice by not doing it together,” jordy explained, dana clapping her hands together.

“wonderful,” she nodded, keeping her hands clasped. “i know you two were excited to do your own thing, but i was talking to jerry and he was really pressing me to get a group album from you guys. the people wanna see you guys as a unit of established artists, which you all are. so what's the concept? we never discussed it.”

“uh,” you verbally paused, raising your arms above your head to stretch. “disco, jazz, and funk. it's a mix of those.”

“retro is in right now,” dana nodded, pacing around the room. “how far back will this set us on a release date?”

you grimaced, leaning back in your seat, the back of the seat lightly bouncing as it absorbed your weight. you pondered the question for a moment. “if it’s gonna be a group thing, it'll have to be significantly longer. we have a decent starting off point but i'm gonna need way more songs now.”

“what about the rest of you? any tracks that we could swing?” dana asked, looking at the rest of the group.

grabbing a pen and piece of scrap paper, you started jotting down notes as everyone spoke out to you. dex and quinton didn’t have anything, but they wouldn’t be a problem. you just needed to give them a beat to rap over and you’d be set. the twins had a finished song already that fit the concept, which was good. with tyler’s voice and aly’s excellent song writing abilities, you doubted very seriously that anything else needed to be done to it. daisy and hector had plenty of lyricless songs, too. funk and soul was their specialty, after all. misha even had a demo track she was willing to share.

you looked over the notes you had taken, tapping your pen on the table as you hummed to yourself. “this could probably work. we’ll need to go over everything in the studio, though.”

“we should just do it now. no one is doing shit else today, right?” dex asked the group, who all shook their head.

“i have a request,” you raised your finger, looking at dana. “i want gotham to be involved in this project.”

“gotham…” dana repeated slowly, unsure of what you meant. “care to elaborate?”

“music videos directed by student directors from gotham university, commissioning local artists for album art. dancers, actors, musicians, whatever. all of them have to be from gotham. i don't want any of the money we put into this project leaving this city,” you stated firmly, dana giving you a blank look.

“i like that idea,” hector said, giving you a kind smile before turning to dana, shifting in his seat. the drummer was like a big brother, always backing you up in moments like these. “accessibility to the arts is really limited here and we should change that.”

“i’d rather give back to the city, too,” quinton agreed, playing with the gold cross hanging from his neck. “we’re one of the only groups in gotham known outside of gotham. we should use that as an opportunity to rep our city.”

“it sounds like you have your minds made up on this,” dana narrowed her eyes, letting out a sigh. “it would definitely be good PR.”

“because god forbid we do something out of the kindness of our hearts,” misha laughed, rolling her eyes. “we're trying to put the city on and you're worried about how it makes us look.”

“that's my job, misha. don't you want me to do my job?” dana retorted. “besides, i'm more concerned with the funding. you all don't have disposable income, believe it or not.”

“but i know someone who does,” she said with a singsong tone, giving you a look.

“i hope you're not referring to me,” you deadpanned. your income was far from disposable.

“i’m referring to our good friend, bruce wayne,” she explained, grabbing a business card out of her purse, handing it over to dana. “ever since i got invited to that charity gala, i've had a direct line to a representative with the wayne foundation. i say we ask them to help fund the project.”

“now that could work,” dana admitted, eyeing the card as she tapped her foot. “if we pitch for more youth involvement, it'll probably go over better. we all know how much bruce wayne loves saving the children.”

you frowned at how dana described bruce’s initiatives as a philanthropist. you were sure his motivations for favoring youth projects were good intentioned, considering his parents had been killed when he was just a little boy. you wanted to go into this good intentioned, too and you hoped that they'd agree. they being the wayne foundation and subsequently, bruce himself.

“ty and quinton could do something with forrester. if we’re going for the youth involvement route, i mean,” aly spoke up.

“forrester correctional. our old stomping grounds,” quinton sighed wistfully as he patted tyler on the shoulder. “i think that would be a good idea.”

“they use the arts as an outlet for them, so it could be beneficial for everyone,” tyler nodded. “there are a lot of good kids there. just unfortunate circumstances, that’s all.”

“wasn’t one of bruce’s son’s a troublemaker before he was adopted?” aly continued, not noticing the look you and tyler shared. “i’m sure he’d probably be interested in doing something with them if his son comes from the same background.”

“it’s settled, then. you all keep working on the music. jerry and i will handle the rest. we need this album out before hector and daisy’s wedding,” dana said, grabbing her suitcase.

…

hey, i have your money. did you still want it?

you stared down at the unsent message, your thumb floating over the send arrow. you hadn’t spoken to jason since that night after the race, as per his request. your mind kept wandering back to it, even as time still went on. what happened was scary, to say the least. fun, but scary. you wondered how the hell jason didn’t get the two of you killed. that part, you didn't want to think about too hard. everyone in gotham had their secrets and it was an unspoken rule amongst citizens to not pry. secrets were secrets for a reason. nothing good ever came from unearthing them.

speaking of secrets, you hadn't exactly told tyler and quinton what happened that night. not in detail. you conveniently left out the chase and stopping to get something to eat. omitting the first part was obvious, but the second one was for your own sanity. you didn't need them teasing you over nothing. besides, all that mattered was no one was dead or arrested. and for the way the three of you used to get down, that was a win.

you considered texting jason earlier this week, just to check in on him, but you decided against it. he obviously wanted you to text him and you obviously had to do the opposite. his little mind game wasn’t going to work on you. you pressed send, frowning immediately as you did so.

maybe it already had.

“it’s too many people in this bitch,” dex sighed, the cold of the water bottle you had asked him for against your hand bringing you back to reality. blinking, you were suddenly very aware of the chaos surrounding you in the studio as you put your phone back in your pocket. you looked to your left, where jordy was leaning against the wall and scrolling through his phone. to your right was aly, who was scribbling in her songbook in the chair next to you. you remembered you were supposed to be working, too. “we need a new stu.”

“i’m working on it!” hector hollered from inside the booth as he and daisy were setting up equipment and instruments. you glanced up at the glass in front when you heard his voice, accidentally catching the pair share a little kiss. you quickly averted your gaze, smiling to yourself.

“new stu, new view, what it do?” quinton began to freestyle to a beat he was making on the coffee table in front of him. “off 92, posted up with southside crew.”

“okay,” dex laughed, noddinh his head as he was vibing with the beat, making his way out of your line of sight. you heard someone, presumably tyler, join in and add some depth to the beat. it sounded like he was hitting a pencil against a shot glass.

“i got a new boo, but i’m tryna slide with misha, too,” quinton continued, dex adlibbing in the back as quinton lowered his voice to his signature melodic whisper. “on the low, nobody gotta know.”

“would you shut the fuck up?” you heard misha say, followed by a barrage of muffled smacking noises and verbal objections from quinton, who you assumed was on the receiving end of what sounded like an assault by pillow.

laughing to yourself, you leaned your head in aly’s direction, not fully facing her. “pass me the flash drive?” you held your hand out weakly. once you felt the plastic in your palm, you leaned back over and put it into the computer, pulling up the proper files.

“we’re done back here,” daisy smiled at you, she and hector coming out from the booth.

you clapped your hands together. “wonderful. everybody shut up, please.”

you pulled up the twin’s song and let it play, your eyes fixed on the colorful audio loops on the screen. the green ones were tyler’s vocals, the purple were aly’s. it looked like blue was reserved for instruments and red was any added sound effects or layered sounds.

“you two sound really great,” jordy walked up behind aly’s seat, leaning against it as he swayed his head to the beat.

“thanks. i wrote it with our mother in mind,” aly said, the words coming out of her mouth uncomfortably. you placed your hand on hers and gave it a little squeeze, which earned you a look of appreciation.

“it's missing something, though,” tyler scratched the back of his head. “i need the producer squad to give us some assistance.”

“oh, say less,” dex laughed, snapping his fingers to the beat with one hand and holding his glass of hennessy in the other. he danced his way over, taking aly’s seat as she, tyler and jordy moved to give you all some space.

misha sauntered her way over, sitting against the table and flipping her hair over her shoulder. the smell of her sweet perfume floated in the air around you. “i think it just needs some fluffing up. some snapping might work. more vocal layering in certain spots.”

“i agree,” you nodded, dex letting out a satisfied sigh as he took a sip of his cold drink.

“is it good?” misha asked him teasingly and he took his final swig, letting out a more dramatic and drawn out sigh. this time, though, it was on beat with the song. you were pretty sure it was unintentional on his part, since he and misha just shared a laugh before returning their attention to the screen.

after a moment of pondering, you swiveled around in your chair, looking at tyler. “okay, hear me out…”

…

two weeks of very diligent working between the nine of you had given you a lot to work with for the album. all that was left was to start putting things together. you still had a ways to go, but you had a good starting off point. as much as you hated to admit it, it was a good call on dana’s part to have you all do a group album. the fans seemed to be greatly anticipating the release and the work ethic the nine of you shared was incredible. even in that cramped little studio, you all made it work.

you all agreed to take the day off, but you were still working at some capacity. you had just traded one small space for another, working in your walk-in closet/home studio for the day. you still needed said walk-in to function as a closet, so there were still garment bags pushed up into a corner and shoe boxes haphazardly stacked, surrounding your desk that you had shoved in there. there was just enough space for you to move your chair and safely get out without twisting an ankle, a fate you often flirted with in that room.

in the spirit of your day off, you hadn't done anything too difficult. you were just trying to decide what order you wanted the completed songs to go in. it may seem like an insignificant detail, but the order was important. the transitions between songs couldn't be jarring for the listener. everything had to flow together with natural progression. at this point, it didn't matter since you weren't done with the album, but it was just giving you an idea of how to fill the gaps with future songs.

the sound of your growling stomach indicated that it was time to stop for the day. you quickly saved all your work and headed to the kitchen. you popped some leftovers in the microwave and scrolled on twitter while you waited. the microwave beeped at you, so you set your phone back down and grabbed the bowl, mixing up the contents with your fork. the flash of light coming from your phone got your attention. a text notification.

are you home?

oh, so now he wanted to respond? cute.

despite your annoyance with the situation, you quickly responded with a yes and set the phone back down. you leaned against the counter, eating what little food you had in your reheated bowl. you mixed the contents around with your fork, grumbling. stupid jason and his stupid inability to text back. he could have at least had the decency to leave you on read. he probably didn't even have read receipts on. you weren't sure which was worse. tossing your now empty bowl into the sink, you grabbed your phone to read his next message.

i’ll be over soon.

soon was very vague and you wished that you would've demanded an exact time, but that opportunity had passed by the time you thought about it. you busied yourself with tidying up, trying to make your place look presentable. you even lit your new candle, which you found yourself focusing your attention on while you waited for him to show up. staring at the flame was much more entrancing than you anticipated.

you heard the door buzzer go off. you weren't expecting anyone else, so it had to be him. you leaned against the wall, pressing your finger to the button.

“who goes there?” you presented the question as a joke, but your tone was a little flat.

“it’s the irs,” jason’s voice came through and you buzzed him in.

not too long after, you heard him knock on the door. you cracked it open and the first thing you noticed was his cologne. it was a strong but pleasant scent. spicy and sweet. it was very intoxicating, actually. so much so that you almost forgot you were angry at him.

“hi.”

“hello.”

you opened the door fully and handed the envelope to him. jason eyed it suspiciously. he opened it up and began to count it out in front of you. he made an effort to do it very slow, the sound of the crisp dollars echoing in the quiet hall. his eyes stayed glued to yours as he counted out loud. you leaned against the doorframe as you watched.

“six… seven… eight,” he said, pulling out his wallet and stuffing it with the cash. “thought you would've skimmed some off the top.”

“i should have with how long you made me wait,” you said matter of factly, letting your annoyance be known now.

“i know. i’m sorry,” he sounded honest but you couldn't see it in his face or in his eyes, which was worrisome. it was a nice alternative to listening to a sputter of excuses, though. “let me make it up to you?”

“how do you plan on doing that?”

“i’m so glad you asked,” he smiled. “as it turns out, i've recently come into some money. let me spend it on you?”

“so you like throwing money at your problems?” you asked him. well, you weren't really asking. it was more like you were telling him.

“no,” he said, sounding a little offended. “i just thought-”

“you just thought that throwing money at me would make me forget about the fact that you ignored me for a month.”

“no, no,” he shook his head, sighing in frustration. “listen, i-”

“i really don't wanna hear it,” you said honestly, watching as his frustrated look turned into kicked puppy. you almost felt bad. “i don't like feeling stupid, jason. that's how i feel right now. i want you to make it up to me but you'll have to be a bit more creative than this.”

“you want me to make it up to you?” jason had repeated, confusion on his face.

you poked him harshly in the chest. “you do that or you leave me alone. those are your options. goodbye.”

you shut the door in his face and let out the breath you were holding in. you weren’t sure how jason was going to react to your little ultimatum, but those were your terms. you liked him but you weren’t going to stress over someone you barely knew, especially with your assumptions about him floating around in your head.

“i’ll be right back,” you heard him say through the door, catching you off guard.

“what?”

“don’t go anywhere.”

you didn’t respond but you heard his footsteps getting quieter as he walked down the hall. the elevator ding indicated that he had left. you stood there, confused as to what it was he was trying to do. you were still stewing in your negative emotions, so you went and busied yourself again. you decided the dishes needed washing and got on it right away. in the middle of scrubbing the stubborn sauce stains out of your plate, you heard your door buzzer go off again.

so he did come back after all. interesting.

you buzzed him in like you did before and waited by the door for him. he knocked and when you opened it, you were met with two gifts: a bouquet of pink tulips and a small box of something from the bakery around the corner.

“i shouldn’t have ignored you. it was rude and stupid and i’m sorry. it won’t happen again,” he said to you, holding out the items to you. you hesitantly accepted them, taking the opportunity to look through the plastic opening of the box to see chocolate covered strawberries.

“it better not happen again,” you pouted, looking up at him. you had to appreciate the effort he put in at such short notice. it was a sweet gesture and he actually looked sorry this time.

“it won’t,” he assured you and you smiled.

“i forgive you. but you’re on thin fucking ice,” you reminded him and he grinned at you with a nod.

“i’m going to make it up to you. just you wait,” he said confidently. “not all of us are naturally creative like you, though. you gotta give me some time to think of something else.”

“seems like you’re getting your feet wet with the flower selection,” you noted, taking a whiff of the delicate and fresh scent. they’d look nice on your coffee table.

“lady at the shop said they would convey my sincerest apologies,” he explained, a hopeful look in his eyes. “did it work?”

“for now,” you shrugged, setting the items down on the table next to the door.

“i can accept that.”

“you’re gonna have to because that’s all i’m giving you,” you said firmly. his charm wasn’t going to get him out of this one. not completely. “now go away. i want to eat my berries in peace.”

“i’ll text you as soon as i get the chance,” he told you as you were shutting the door. you peered at him, narrowing your eyes before shutting it again. “i’m serious!”

“goodbye, jason!” you said through the door. you heard his faint farewell as you walked away, plopping on the couch with your dessert in hand.

were you still a little mad at him? yes. but you weren’t going to pass up free stuff, even if you had made all that fuss about the money earlier. at least the gifts had some thought behind them. so long as he held up his end of the deal, you had a feeling being friends with jason wouldn’t be that bad.

hopefully, anyway.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #dc x reader #jason todd #red hood

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bakugouisabitch · 3 years ago

Note

nono, i care about your very specific highschool au. rant about it please.

dgslsjs omg youu 🥺

well if you insist.... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

okay, i once had a discord group which i miss sm rip where i shared some ideas from that AU so i’m basically gonna repeat them here now shsjs under the read more 👇

this AU includes both Maliks as siblings (+ Isis and Rishid ofc) and both Bakuras as siblings too. The two Yamis are the elder brothers of the non-Yamis so they also have their own name ofc.

For Yami Malik I’d go with Amir cause the name is beautiful and fits him somehow (it means ‘prince’ or ‘chief’). This AU is literally so self-indulgent where I can finally write Amir just how I picture him in my head as the funny himbo he is, who makes some creepy jokes at times but is generally a nice guy and is just constantly stoned sdfgskh

For Yami Bakura i haven’t thought of a name yet 🙃 He’s low key the protag and I still don’t have a name for him 👏 good work, Ziggy 👏 I was thinking about something that makes his initials still be YB so a name with Y actually (Yamato maybe ?) Everyone calls him Bakura/Bakura-kun anway and they mostly call Ryou “the little Bakura”/Bakura-chan (affectionately) since he is the little brother ahsksfsj

In this AU Amir and YB are like really close friends. They are classmates in their last year together and they are known for being trouble makers. But not just like Honda and Jounouchi in the anime - they are worse than that. They have risked being expelled many times and smoke on the school’s rooftops and even hang out with older guys who sell illegal shit and such (it’d be tw for drugs ofc). OH and lots of spray painting on public places 👊 They are really best buds and bonded over same interests and music taste and same hate for the society and family and such. This fanart was a major inspiration to write these two as high school best buddies.

Also, I did a quick redraw of the typical anime boys sleeping in the classroom pose with these two. That’s them:

(might finish it one day and post it seperately idk my motivation is swinging lately 🤷)

All their “criminal” behaviour ofc stems from a sad background/past because i’m just a sucker for angst and i keep making my boys suffer 😔 i’m sorry. Every guy in this AU has daddy issues or just family issues in general

YB is VERY overprotective over his little brother Ryou (who’s just two years younger than him, and just like Malik, starts his first high school year in Domino High School). He is literally responsible for raising him up because ever since they lost their mother and Amane (Ryou’s twin sister) at a very young age their father fell into a very deep depression and he’s constantly away “for work” and just generally neglects his two remaining sons. YB hates their father because of that so he has taken it as his own responsibility to make sure Ryou is always safe and protected and acts like the parent in their home (where there is usually just the two of them). Also, another self indulgent thing here: YB being an ass with everyone except for being an overprotective good big brother for Ryou 🥺 please! so cute!! (They ride a bike together on their way to school like this fanart)

The Ishtar’s parents are both dead. Their mother died when giving birth to the youngest one (Malik) and their father died under very tragic circumstances (still gotta think how 🤔 it definitely wasn’t Amir tho’) and they used to have a very abusive household thus why Amir HATES their dad. Contrary to Malik, who keeps saying he deserved a second chance and was a good father and wishes he could have made him proud ~ this always makes Amir and Malik fight amongst other things and this is what also bonds Amir and YB so much: the hate for their old man.

It would be a very psychological AU that deals with a lot of issues and shit and traumas the boys have to live with + adding all the typical teenage angst at that age so it’s CHAOS. and I’d also have the perfect soundtrack/playlist for it 💆‍♀️ (it would be set in the 90s)

Ofc it’d be bakumali because I can’t help myself (and maybe also Ryou x Amir as a side pairing 👀)

Since it’s Malik’s first year in domino high school he wants to be recognised as one of the “cool kids” and befriend the older boys from the class. he just hates it that his big brother (Amir) is always there as well. Compared to the Bakuras these two have much more of a turbulent kind of relationship going on as siblings, where they constantly fight and Amir says Malik “ruined” the family whenever their fights get harsher and Malik says father never loved him anyway. Isis and Rishid try to keep the family and the boys under control as young adults but it’s hard 😔

YB visits the Ishtars sometimes to hang out with Amir in his room where they listen to music, smoke weed, and play PS and such and this is when Malik “spies” on YB. he thinks his big brother’s friend looks so cool with his ripped jeans and eyeliner and black nail polish. One night YB and Amir are smoking weed in Amir’s room and playing PS when Malik would use the chance. He’d piss Amir off and tell him it’s his turn to take the trash out on purpose to make him leave his room. Ofc Amir says no but then Malik “threatens” him with “I will tell sister you smoke weed if you don’t take the trash out”. And so Amir leaves (slamming the door behind him like an unruly teenager and saying he’s gonna kill Malik) and leaves a stoned YB alone in his room. And this is when Malik uses the chance to be alone with a very confused and very stoned YB who wonders why Amir’s little brother seems to be so interested in him sdfghjkl and yea this is basically their first encounter.

Malik has basically a kind of obvious “fangirl crush” for YB but the latter is so confused why and what he even sees in him. Because for him there’s nothing “cool” in skipping school and breaking the rules, it’s just the only thing he knows. But for Malik this is the coolest shit he’s ever seen.

this little sketch i made kinda shows my idea for their relationship in this AU better sdfghjk:

Malik befriends Ryou (who is in his same class and school year) out of convenience ofc cause he wants to get closer to YB. Yes Malik is a lil bitch in this AU. And Ryou is like extremely nice and polite, he’s the weird silent kid who doesn’t have a lot of friends and lives in his own world. He falls victim to bullies a lot and YB also keeps that rough facade to make sure no one messes with him. Ryou befriends Malik and tries to answer all of the weird, intimate questions he has of his big brother...

One night I, like, imagined a scenario where Amir and YB are out spray-painting a wall behind the station with some other thugs and Malik and Ryou followed them secretly (it was all Malik’s plan) even if Ryou was totally contrary to the idea. Once they see the guys have drugs and alcohol Ryou wants to leave, but Malik says this is exactly what makes it exciting and joins them without warning. When Amir and YB see Malik they panic, wondering what he is doing here. Amir gets particularly pissed off and wants to just leave. ofc YB tells him he can’t just leave his young brother alone in a place like this with people like that. But Amir ignores him (and this will lead to one of the first big fights between the two best buddies 😔 they will punch each other. I told you it will have a lot of angst)

Anyway at the end Amir leaves and YB is decent enough to bring both Ryou and Malik home but then Malik insits on wanting to crash at their place. So YB is like “i guess??” And they spend the night together at the Bakura’s place :) YB takes the couch and leaves his bed for Malik to sleep in but Malik will have none of that ofc sgksksj

Okay sorry for boring you, I could go on forever with so many scenarios of this AU or like actually sit down and write it... and yea.. that’s it.... just angsty and misunderstood boys in a shitty society with shitty parents trying to find a sense with their lives 🥺

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

Until the End of the World - 20

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 1640

Rating: E

Warnings: Hospitals, breastfeeding, nothing major

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together. Things are calm and you feel like a family unit. When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem. When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 20

Steve was dozing when one of the babies started to cry. He was up and out of bed as the second one’s cries joined the first and you and Bucky stirred and sat up. He’d slept lightly - his mind full of thoughts about Geo, Gal, and his daughter. He had juggled all the options as he’d seen them. Lying and saying Gal was his. Trying to adopt him legally. Finding his family and returning them. He considered the best-case scenarios and the worst-case ones. That with the lingering worry about keeping you and Geo safe, and expunging all records of you from any databases they might have left, did not lend itself to a good night’s sleep. Steve picked up the little boy first, he was crying louder and his face was screwed up and changing color. “Hey little one,” he soothed, bouncing him a little. “I bet you don’t know what’s what.”

Bucky moved beside him and picked up his daughter. “Guess we change them and try to feed them?”

“Gal might need a bottle,” you said as Steve took the infant to the changing table. “I don’t know if I should breastfeed him or not… I mean people do that right? Wet nurses used to be a thing. But then… my milk hasn’t come in yet, and he’d already be having milk, and I’m barely making colostrum.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Steve assured you. “I’ll get one of the staff to bring in a bottle. FRIDAY?”

“It’s on its way,” the AI confirmed.

Bucky finished changing the girl and brought her over to you. You adjusted the back of the bed so that you could lean on it while sitting up and put a pillow in your lap before taking her from Bucky. Geo grumbled and tried to readjust. The babies had well and truly woken him, but he seemed to be trying to ignore that the world existed anywhere else except tucked into your side, safe-and-sound.

As you attempted to get the baby to latch a nurse came in with a bottle. “Here you are, Captain Rogers,” she said, handing it over. She turned her attention to you and began to fuss around you. “Do you need help?”

“Yes, please,” you agreed. “It’s been a while.”

The nurse helped you to get the infant latched as Steve sat down and began to feed Gal his bottle. When she left again Steve looked over to you.

“We have some things we need to arrange,” he said.

You looked over at him, the alarm you were feeling was written all over your face. “She asked me to take care of him.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Steve said. “I know, and we will. But I’ve been thinking about it, and as much as lying and saying you had twins sounds like a quick fix, it’s something that is easily disproved, and it takes his history away from him. You were worried about taking John’s connection away from Geo. Shouldn’t we let Gal grow up knowing as much about his background as he can know his parents too? His mom died trying to protect you all. She should be honored and remembered too.”

You frowned and looked over at the little boy in Steve’s arms. “What if they take him from us?”

Steve looked down at the baby in his arms and frowned slightly. The worst-case scenario in his head was that they took him and ended up accidentally giving him straight to HYDRA. He would do what he needed to, to prevent that from happening, but he wanted to trust the system to trust him given he had given so much of himself to protect it. “Sweetheart,” he said gently. “If you and Bucky decide that we should lie and say he’s biologically ours - that you gave birth to twins - I won’t fight it. I’ll do whatever I can to protect that secret. But if this little boy has family, they have a right to know about him, and maybe - maybe, keeping him safe means letting him be raised by them.”

You frowned and caressed your daughter's cheek, as you seemed to process the words. You looked over to Bucky who was sitting quietly watching you both. “What do you think, Buck?”

“I think…” he said slowly. “I think Steve makes some good points. There’s definitely a risk, but if we do lie and they find out, we could lose all the kids.”

“Alright,” you agreed and shifted the baby to the other breast. “We need to make sure he’s safe, no matter what.”

“We will. If the worst-case happens, and the powers that be decide we aren’t a suitable home, we’ll make sure the family that takes him is vetted by Wanda, and no record of where he came from follows him to where he goes.”

You frowned and nodded. “Okay. Well, how do we do this?”

“We sometimes work with a lawyer,” Steve said. “He’s a defense attorney but he understands the position we’re in and is pretty good at arguing it in court. He might be able to help with this a little or at least recommend someone who can. In the meantime, I’ve had FRIDAY looking into this little guy’s family.” He sits Gal up and puts his empty bottle to the side and while he supports his head, he gently rubbed the infant’s back until he burped. “At least then we know where we stand.”

“Right,” you said, putting your breast away. Bucky got up and took the baby from your arms and you began cuddling Geo. “Okay. I guess we better do that.”

“FRIDAY?” Steve said, looking up. “Have you found anything?”

“I am still checking all possible leads,” she said. “But from my searching of the files we obtained from HYDRA, participants were selected in the initial trial based on a lack of family ties. From what I gather the child’s biological father was raised in foster care and changed homes at least a dozen times.”

You furrowed your brow and Steve looked over at you. “Is that true? Is that why you never spoke about your family?”

“I didn’t know about the others. I know John was an only child whose parents died in a car accident when he was seventeen. And I was raised by my grandparents. My grandpa died when I was twelve, and my grandma when I was nineteen. I don’t know who my father even is, and my mother is around, but I don’t speak to her,” you explained. “I guess the difference was enough to not draw the link.”

“It makes sense,” Bucky said. “They were doing some pretty intense human trials. If something went wrong, then they good make you disappear and no one would be there to ask questions.”

“If Gal has no family, that might make it easier,” Steve said. “We’ll keep looking into things, but we’ll do this the right way. We need to lodge a birth certificate for him, which isn’t going to be easy either.”

The three of you fell silent for a little while. It was a weighty silence, full of anxiety and unspoken worries. This was Steve’s family now and as much as he wanted to protect them, he was beginning to fear he wouldn’t be able to.

“There’s something else we need to decide,” Bucky said, cutting through the heavy silence.

You and Steve both looked over at him curiously and Bucky smiled down at the little girl in his arms. “We still haven’t picked her name.”

“We were tossing up Rebecca or Sarah,” you said. “Does she look like one more than the other?”

Steve moved and sat on the edge of the bed beside you and Geo. He rubbed the boy's back gently. “What do you think, Geo? What does she look more like to you?”

Geo poked his head out from your side for the first time and looked over at Bucky with the baby. He furrowed his brow like he was really considering it. “Ember.”

“Ember?” Steve asked.

“We didn’t even consider that one,” you added.

Geo’s lip began to quiver and he hid back in your side. The stress of everything obviously making it too hard for him to be questioned.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve said. “We didn’t say no, we’re just thinking about it.”

“It might be good for her to have her own name, without the burden of living up to anyone,” Bucky said.

“I kinda like how it’s related to fire,” you said. “Geo is earth, Ember is fire.”

Steve smiled and rubbed Geo’s side. “That is a nice theme. Gal doesn’t really fit it though.”

“What does Gal mean?” Bucky asked.

“Gal is a Hebrew name meaning ‘wave’,” FRIDAY responded. “As in waves in the ocean.”

The three of you looked at each other with your jaws dropped open. “That feels like fate,” you said.

As much as Steve resisted the idea of fate, there were too many things that had happened to him that let him ignore it. The fact that he and the boy he had grown up loving were both sitting here in a relationship when they should both dead and buried was one huge example of it. He wasn’t going to ignore it now.

“I think you’re right, Geo,” Steve said. “I think she’s an Ember too.”

Geo sat up and smiled looking over at his sister.

“Ember sounds a little better with Rebecca than Sarah,” you added. “Is that okay with both of you?”

Bucky’s face lit up and that alone sold Steve on the name. “Sounds perfect,” he said. “Ember Rebecca Barnes-Rogers.”

You leaned over and kissed him gently, your lips softly grazing over his. He vowed in that moment, that no one would ever threaten his family again. He’d personally make sure of it.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #until the end of the world

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quickspinner · 4 years ago

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S4E1 Truth Reactions

Just a reminder, you can filter #quickrants if you don’t want to see this kind of thing.

So...I’m not that upset. I think I’m in the minority here, but clearly my expectations were sufficiently low and I’m really mostly okay with it. I wanted one thing out of this episode, for them to not screw up Luka’s character, and I got that.

There’s a lot of things I’m not happy about, but all indications from early on were that they were going to break the ship up way sooner than we expected, so I kind of had time to make my peace with that. I just wanted them to keep Luka’s character intact, and for him and Marinette to part on good terms so that we can HC that they get together later when they are both more mature.

The things that I didn’t like were so typical that they didn’t even bother me that much:

Literally every character they could possibly shoehorn in saying “Marinette is in love with Adrien Agreste” (however, note, that while every other character was talking about Adrien, aside from that first convo, Marinette was not)

Adrien didn’t even show up and it was all about him, from the rambly confusion in Marinette’s bedroom, to Luka saying “hey, if you’re still in love with Adrien, I’ll understand.”

Chat Noir saying he would never force a secret from Ladybug when the entire episode Siren exists. I mean, regardless of how you feel about Chat’s behavior in that episode...he was trying to force the issue. If not from Ladybug, then to get Ladybug’s secret from Plagg, all without being akumatized.

The biggest issue I have with the episode is the way they shoehorned the Couffaine family drama into it, which meant that neither plot thread got the attention it needed/deserved, and as a result, they had to skip over a lot of stuff, and the entire narrative of the episode was choppy. Would it have been that hard to have a few episodes leading up to this where we saw Marinette ditching Luka on dates, instead of cramming it all into one montage of pain? And we’re really going to go from Jagged saying that he basically ditched his family for no good reason, into Luka hugging him and letting him be the dad-comforter at the end of the ep? AND WHAT ABOUT JULEKA? Does she just not count because she’s a girl and men only care about their sons? Astruc just doubled down on the twin thing on Twitter, but we’re not even going to address that at all?

That whole thing should have been dealt with in another episode; Luka could have found out in this one, and then we could have seen him approaching Jagged as a civilian later (maybe we’ll still see this, but I don’t have any faith it will happen) to work it all out.

I admit I kinda screamed when Anarka said it, though. I didn’t think they would ever confirm it on air. The way it was handled, though, ugh. Jagged really comes off like a deadbeat jerk and then he just, what? Gets forgiven for no reason? After he wrote a song called “My Guitar Is My Only Family”????

Also, the episode as a whole was visually really ugly, and Luka really got the worst of it. Like, yikes. I don’t know why they went full on Lord of the Rings with the special effects, either, can’t you make a character look shocked without inverting the entire background? Multiple times?

Side note: can I just say how hilarious I find it that Hawkmoth repaired the peacock Miraculous with a 50 cent pin back from Joanne’s and by saying “Repair yourself!” Just...so ridiculous.

There were a lot of things I liked.

The sincerity of the movie date. Marinette may have flaked big time not remembering it, but once they actually got out together, away from other influences, they were having so much fun! Going to see a movie they knew was terrible because they both love Jagged so much! I have hearts in my eyes. They were super cute! Their lyric guessing contest! They way they were so focused on each other and having fun. Marinette’s cute way of giving him his gift for ‘winning’ the contest, and Luka using their lyric game to ask for a kiss, and having that cute little nervous look before he really went for it. I’m gonna be watching that scene like a billion times.

My heart broke for both of them when Marinette kept running off. I like that they made it clear that this was an ongoing thing. That one moment of Luka being snarky and upset that she didn’t come to the concert just hurt that much more because he’s normally so calm. It really hurt when he didn’t get excited that she finally arrived.

But what happened after that was so Luka. He didn’t get sulky and passive aggressive. He didn’t get upset with her in front of everybody. He took her somewhere private, somewhere that was important to him, and he gave her context for how he was feeling by sharing something private about himself, and he asked her as gently as possible what was going on. I think it’s telling that he made a point of letting her know that he was okay with it if she was still hung up on Adrien. All he really wanted from her was confirmation that she was committed to this relationship, because after being ditched so many times it’s natural to start questioning whether she was really ready for this, and he didn’t want to be pressuring her into something. He just wanted her to tell him the truth. I think the parallel he gave her was nice, too; not only was he sort of letting her know he maybe has some abandonment issues that are making this hard for him, he’s giving her an opening to admit that she gets overwhelmed for whatever reason and that she ditches him to go hide and collect herself. In spite of all the things he is clearly feeling, he’s so careful with her, and it shows even more when he’s fighting his akumatization. Because his feelings are that she should tell him, that she should trust him, and he’s hurt that she doesn’t, but what he says, and what his behavior backs up, is that you can’t force the truth out of people (nice callback to Silencer there, where Ladybug said something similar about forcing someone to tell the truth is meaningless). He wants to believe that Marinette trusts him and has a good reason for not telling him; he wants to believe that if he can make her feel safe enough she’ll choose to confide in him. Poor guy is just trying to understand without spilling his bad feelings all over her. That’s really the core of what I like about Luka; he’s thoughtful, respectful, and gentle, but he confronts issues head on. He did it in Silencer, he did it in Felix, he did it in Miracle Queen, each time getting right to the heart of what Marinette was having trouble saying without putting pressure on her to admit anything she wasn’t ready for her. That’s what I was really, really scared of losing in this episode and I am just over the moon that they handled it so well.

The akuma is another story, but akumas are akumas. Those where his emotions without control and I’m not upset about that. Both of Luka’s akumas were about anger and powerlessness.

I feel deeply cheated that we didn’t get any kind of scene of Luka coming back to the boat, and Anarka having to tell him again about Jagged because he doesn’t remember, but she said it in front of everyone (including Juleka) so there’s no way to keep it a secret anymore. The cut to the breakup scene on the bridge was just so abrupt, and there was so much that should have happened between that that we should have seen.

I would have liked to have seen Marinette finding him, and asking if he’s okay, and giving him a little sympathy before finally giving him the honesty he asked for. Even when she tries to say it, that she can’t give him the relationship he deserves right now (and I’m eternally grateful that she didn’t lie to him and tell him that it actually was because of Adrien), Luka makes a choice. He closes his eyes as he hugs her (which I think is significant, given the whole third-eye imagery of Truth) and he doesn’t make her say it. Honestly, I usually feel gross about using the word ‘deserved’ in relationships, but I think it’s justified here--he deserved for her to look him in the eye and tell him that she couldn’t be with him. But he didn’t make her do it. He wasn’t angry at her, and they didn’t part with bad feelings, and he was Luka right up until the end.

Maybe it’s sad that that’s as much as I felt could be reasonably hoped for in this episode, but there it is. I’m not happy, but I’m satisfied.

#quickrants #truth spoilers #spoilers #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #ml spoilers #ml season 4 spoilers

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haloshornsinkstains · 4 years ago

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Kisses Under The Mistletoe with the Captain Squad Pt.2

Mistletoe kisses headcanons feat: Ushijima, Daishou, Terushima and Kita I found these a little harder to write (I really need to rewatch their episodes a few more times), but I kinda like the Daishou one? He’s grown on me.

No real content warnings, just some smooching and gross overuse of brackets and strikethrough

Ushijima

This is 100% Tendou’s fault and he’s not in the slightest bit sorry about it. Originally he was trying to mess with Goshiki (the future ace might have a bit of a crush on you and Tendou is not about to let any opportunity for mischief pass him by).

It sounded kinda funny at first, so you agreed to go along with it, only apparently Karma likes to act fast because you end up standing under mistletoe with Ushijima of all people. Tendou finds this even more hilarious than his original plan - “Satori, what are you doing?”

Tendou is grinning and gesturing at the mistletoe while you pray for the ground to swallow you whole.

“Mistletoe Wakatoshi! You have to kiss!”

“Why?”

“It’s tradition! And it’s ro-man-tic~”

“Mistletoe is a parasitic species and could kill trees, I do not see what is romantic about it.”

He’s adorable. You want to die, but god his seriousness is just too cute. You’re going to murder Tendou for this later, but there’s no way he’s going to let you leave unless you kiss.

“Ushijima-san… I, um, I wouldn’t mind. Unless you don’t want you…” if the ground could hurry up and swallow you that would be great.

“I am not opposed to kissing you.” He frowns down at you, as if the idea he would protest is absurd. “I still do not understand the significance of the mistletoe however.” You’re trying not to pass out with shock while Tendou makes kissing noises in the background.

He bends down to kiss you, and it’s softer and more delicate than even your softest daydreams had been able to come up with, a chaste press of lips that somehow feels like so much more.

Your soul has left your body. You are dead. Tendou’s fate is yet to be decided

Daishou

You and Daishou aren’t exactly enemies, though anyone who didn’t know you well could easily be fooled into thinking you were. The barbs you sent at each other were mostly your way of bonding, and in your case your way of hiding your feelings for him.

Though when you ran into him at a college party you weren’t exactly thrilled with that turn of events, especially since you’d spotted two of your course-mates pinning mistletoe in various doorways.

“Didn’t expect to see you slither in here Suguru.”

He smirks. “That just makes it sound like you were thinking about me Y/N-chan.”

“Only about avoiding you.” You huff, turning away only to catch sight of some mistletoe in your peripheral vision. Unfortunately for you, Daishou spots it too.

“Sure you weren’t thinking about catching me under the mistletoe?”

You try and fail to contain the flush that rises on your cheeks. “Not even if you begged. I’ll be checking the doorways.”

You huff and quickly make your exit, far too aware of the way he’s smirking at your back as you leave.

Unfortunately for you, you don’t do as great a job of checking doorways before going through them as you had hoped. Finding yourself trapped under a sprig of mistletoe with your traitorous best friend grinning at you and gesturing none-too-subtly at your rival/crush.

This is where it gets interesting, you expect some sort of sarcastic remark from him, some call back to you telling him ‘not even if he begged’, but instead you're faced with silence. And when you glance up his cheeks are tinged pink and he’s trying (and failing) to look anywhere but at your lips.

Sensing a chance for victory (and a free opportunity to kiss your crush without having to admit your feelings) you lean up into his personal space, swallowing down your embarrassment to grab the front of his shirt and pull him into a kiss. One he returns perhaps a bit too eagerly to play off as just tradition, fingers gripping your waist tightly until you have to part for air.

“I win this round Suguru.” You whisper, winking at him as you melt back into the crowd.

If the two of you leave the party together, tangled in each others arms, well no one dares comment.

Terushima

Okay, first hear me out - Terushima 100% owns a pair of novelty boxers with mistletoe on them because he thought it was hilarious. (This has no bearing on the rest of the headcanon, I just needed to say it)

Terushima has a reputation, everyone knows it. He’s trouble, a fuckboy, the hair and the tongue piercing just prove that. He’s not, he’s an adorable puppy of a man, people are just dumb. - You were kinda worried about it when you first started dating, what with the number of people who tried to warn you off him, but since you know what kind of person he is really you’re pretty good at just tuning it out.

That doesn’t mean other people are going to drop it though, and some people seem to think that because of his reputation as a flirt (and because he’s terrible at saying no) that they can use the festive season and mistletoe to swoop in on him. It is a problem.

It’s not that you don’t trust him, you do, but he can be an idiot. Your idiot.

So when you spot him cornered by some girls outside the cafe you were supposed to be meeting at, eyeing the mistletoe hanging over his head with a look of utter panic you just sigh. You get the crowd just as you see his shoulders drooping, the ringleader piping up with “it’s just a kiss on the cheek Terushima-san! It’s fine~” and pouting sadly “you’ll break my heart if you say no again”.

Time to save your man.

You clear your throat pointedly, walking through the crowd and right up to your boyfriend's side with a smile.

“Oh look Yuuji, mistletoe!”

He perks up immediately, grinning at you and tugging you into him for a kiss. It’s maybe a bit too steamy for public, to prove a point, but you’re not going to complain. When he pulls away his face is full of confidence, and he throws a cocky smirk at the crowd as he leads you towards the cafe entrance.

“Sorry ladies, there’s only one person I want to kiss under the mistletoe.”

You love him so much.

Kita

Like Ushijima, Kita doesn’t really get it. He’s seen Suna avoiding certain parts of the corridors, and Atsumu trying to get caught by girls in certain doorways with sprigs of leaves hanging in them, but he doesn’t actually understand why. He just chalks it up to the second years being their weird second year selves.

But it keeps happening and it’s starting to interfere with practice so eventually he just asks.

“Wha? Ya never heard of kissin’ someone under the mistletoe?”

“No. That would be why I asked.”

“If yer caught standing with someone under mistletoe ya have ta kiss them! It’s a tradition.”

Kita is just frowning at Astumu, his Grandma never mentioned any such tradition and he’s trying to work out whether the setter is messing with him. Luckily Aran spots his expression and comes in to save him.

“I think it’s a western tradition Kita-san.”

Kita nods, cogs in his brain starting to turn. His thoughts drift to you, he’s always thought of you as a friend and the two of you get along extremely well, but now he’s realising that maybe he wants it to be something more when his first thought is of kissing you under the mistletoe.

Unfortunately for him, everyone else notices the shift in his expression and put the pieces together. Operation Y/N and Kita under the mistletoe is go.

Suna has zero interest in actually taking part in Atsumu’s dumbass plan, but he is going to be there to get everything on camera. The world needs documentation of the Miya twins and their ridiculous schemes.

In the end all their planning backfires when Kita just meets you outside your classroom at the end of the day and leads you down one of the corridors he knows he’s seen some mistletoe hanging in. You stop under some and just kind of stare at him confused.

“Um, Shin? I don’t under-”

“The team told me it’s tradition to kiss someone under mistletoe. I’d like to kiss you Y/N.” He looks calm, but his cheeks are on fire and he can’t hold your gaze for more than a few seconds.

You are floored. You really like him, but you always thought he just saw you as a friend, and while this isn’t the most standard of confessions it’s so Kita and you’re just so happy.

“I’d very much like to kiss you too Shin.”

Suna sends you the photographic evidence later (you’re too happy to ask how he got that photo), and while everyone tries to act surprised when you turn up to their practice holding the captain’s hand, you know they already knew.

#my writing #headcanons #haikyuu #ushijima wakatoshi #daishou suguru #terushima yuuji #kita shinsuke #ushijima x reader #daishou x reader #terushima x reader #kita x reader #mistletoe #fluff #kissing #halo.writes #halo.headcanons

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vivianweasley · 4 years ago

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Love, George (George Weasley X Reader)

Prompt: This is for @weasleysflowr‘s 300 writing challenge! “Can I tell you a secret” and “just shut up and kiss me”.

Summary: You have always loved Michael Corner but now he’s getting married and you are the bridesmaid. As cliche as it sounds, you just wanted someone to save you from this mess. Fake dating.

Pairing: George Weasley X Fem!Reader

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst with Michael, alcohol use, mention of underage drinking

Word count: 2K

A/N: Did I just write another unrequited love bridesmaid story? Yes, but this idea is stuck in my mind for a long time. The inspiration is from the first scene of the movie Love, Rosie! GIF is from the movie too and credit goes to whoever owns it. Anyways, hope you guys would like it:)

Please do NOT repost or translate my work on another site without permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome!

You were sitting at Michael Corner’s wedding and your brain was a foggy mess, but you were next to give a toast. The logical side of you told you to look at your notes one last time, but the emotional side of you just wanted to hide in a hole in the ground and pretend like you never existed.

Michael was your best friend. You’ve known each other since the first year at Hogwarts. And like all cliches, you were the person who has always secretly loved their best friend.

You thought maybe one day he would finally realize that the person meant for him was right beside him. But now he’s getting married and you, his best friend, became the bridesmaid.

Why were you the bridesmaid? Didn’t the bride have any friends? But you knew, you could complain and make fun of the bride all you want and in the end, she still has everything you’ve ever wanted.

It was your turn to give a toast now. You stood up and cleared your throat, “I’ve known Michael since the first year at Hogwarts. It feels like it was only yesterday that Michael got stuck on the moving stairs and almost missed the first class. Oh, or when the Weasley twins dumped blue paint on him during fourth year. Can’t believe that he’s getting married today. Merlin, I sound like his mum.”

The guests laughed and the Weasley twins cheered at the mention of their prank. You laughed along and continued, “And I should probably say something nice about Michael too. Michael Corner was the funniest, most interesting, and most amazing person I’ve ever known.”

The guests cheered again in agreement and you waited for the waves of cheering to die out, “I just wanted to say that the bride is really lucky. And I wish you guys all the best with all my heart. Congratulations Michael, and I will always love you...” you looked at his eyes one last time, those ocean eyes, “cause we’re best friends.”

The crowd was clapping and cheering, but you couldn’t hear anything. You just sat there, staring blankly at the crowd. This was the end, was it? Before the wedding began, you fantasized about so many scenarios. Like in a soup opera where you would run up there and object. Or like in a romantic comedy where he finally realized that you were the one he has always loved.

But nothing crazy happened in the reality and to be honest, you were glad.

“Y/N, if you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m always here.” Cho was there with you in the restroom. She knew about your crush on Michael and was always there to support you when you prepared for the wedding.

“No, I’m not going to cry.” You sighed, “But I really do hope that maybe, I could suddenly have a tall and handsome boyfriend, and then I could walk out of the wedding feeling less defeated.”

When you two were leaving the restroom, you bumped into a tall man. You looked up and recognized that it was George Weasley.

You became friends with the Weasley twins right after they dumped blue paint on Michael. You guys would hangout together sometimes and you joined Dumbledore’s Army with them, so you could tell the twins apart. But after they left Hogwarts, you guys barely contacted each other and would probably only see each other at Hogwarts reunion dinners or some old classmates’ weddings.

“George?”

“I’m sorry Y/N, didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But I believe I heard you said that you need a tall and handsome boyfriend?”

You were embarrassed that he heard your silly talk, but you still managed to reply calmly, “Yea, are you gonna introduce me to someone?”

“That someone is standing right in front of you! See, I’m tall,” he raised his hand to emphasize his height, “and I’m handsome!” He winked at you.

“George, I was only joking...”

“Yea, joking. Someone told me I’m quite good at that.” He grinned at you, “I can pretend to be your tall and handsome boyfriend and make Corner jealous!”

You laughed at his remarks, but the reality slapped you in your face. You lowered your head, feeling defeated again, “But he won’t...”

“Well, at least you could still use some fun now. Consider this as a light-hearted prank! ” He cupped your face and lifted your head.

At this moment, you felt like the playful and happy you came back. You turned back to look at Cho. She nodded at you, reassuring you that this idea was not completely dumb, so you finally held out your hand, “Well then, shall we, darling?”

He chuckled and held your hand, “Let’s go, darling!”

Your plan went well. Not long after you left the restrooms, you and George ran into Michael. He looked surprised seeing you holding hands with George, “Y/N, you two?”

Before you could say anything, George answered the question for you, “Y/N is my girlfriend!”

Michael was looking at you now and you couldn’t quite understand his expression. Putting aside all of your unrealistic daydreams and wishful thinking, he was probably just surprised.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Erm....I was busy preparing for your wedding and I just kinda forgot.” Your left hand was tugging nervously on the hem of your dress now, but you were still impressed that you could lie so smoothly even under this kind of situation.

“Yeah Corner, my girlfriend was so busy preparing for your wedding, she didn’t even have enough time for me! You should really thank her mate,” George added.

Now Michael was looking sorry as he said, “I didn’t know...Thank you, Y/N.”

To you, this “Thank you” sounded like the closure for your unrequited love that lasted for years. “It’s alright,” you replied softly.

“I need to go get a drink. Congratulations mate!” George pulled you away before you started to zone out.

After returning to your table, George just sat on the empty seat next to you. The owner of this seat, Terry was probably already drinking the night away somewhere. You glanced around. Everyone looked so happy, making you a misfit.

George noticed you were zoning out again, “I’m guessing that you don’t want to stay here anymore. How about we sneak out right now?”

You nodded. Yes please.

He held your hand. You thought he was going to apparate you into somewhere else, but he just held your hand and ran out of the wedding. Just like a muggle movie.

Surrounding the wedding venue was a grassland and some small hills. You and George finally stopped running at the highest hill and something came over you. The presence of George just made you comfortable doing crazy silly things that you usually didn’t have the courage to do. You took off your high heels, “I always wanted to try this.” And without hesitating, you rolled off the hill.

George was probably shocked by your sudden action. But he wasn’t shocked for long, because you soon felt someone rolling off the hill, too.

You didn’t even have the time to stand up or move away as George just landed on you. You looked at each other and started laughing. You were both in formal clothings, but you were also both covered in dirt and grass. This was probably the first time in weeks that you were laughing wholeheartedly, not like back at the wedding, when you could only call what you were doing a mere action of pulling the corners of your lips upwards.

“Aren’t you full of surprises.” George laughed as he gently pushed away the hair and grass on your face.

You were speechless for a moment. You were lying on the grass and George was still on top of you. You stared into his deep brown eyes with the breathtaking starry night sky as the background, and memories from fourth year started to come back.

At that time, the Weasley twins were very popular. Well, they were always popular, but you only got to know them during your fourth year. That year and fifth year were the only two years that Michael wasn’t really occupying your mind.

They were older, Gryffindor beaters, and legendary pranksters. It was impossible for you to not notice them. Especially George. He kept appearing in front of you, asking you if their new pranks ideas could work. You didn’t know when did this happened exactly, but he did eventually claim a place in your heart.

Maybe you were a little bit drunk. Maybe it was because the stars were mesmerizing tonight, but you confessed, “Actually, I have more surprises for you. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Oh yea? What is it?”

“It was a long time ago and it’s quite funny actually, but I had a crush on you back at school.” You were blushing, but you hoped that he couldn’t see it.

“Let me guess, was it the year of the Triwizard Tournament?”

You sat up as you were shocked and he sat up with you. “How did you know?”

He chuckled, “You probably don’t remember much about this, but do you remember the night of the Yule Ball? You were so drunk, but you couldn’t find your friends?”

The memories you thought were long gone began to resurface. Your friend group went to the Yule Ball together that year and Michael was also part of it. You still remembered you telling yourself that technically you could still say that you went to the dance with Michael.

That night, someone sneaked a bottle of firewhisky into the dance and you ended up getting drunk. Your friends were probably wasted too since when you finally regained a tiny sense of conscious, they all disappeared. You searched the hallways, with your arms leaning against the walls, trying to find some support. You called their names, but no one answered.

You remembered now. The last person you could remember from that night was George Weasley.

The loss of memory was making you anxious. You started to pull your hair nervously when you asked, “Merlin, what did I do that night??”

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal, “Not much. You told me that you fancy me and you kissed me.”

Your brain went blank. You did what??

He continued, ignoring how you were losing it right now, “Earlier tonight, I heard you say that Michael was the funniest, most interesting, and most amazing person you’ve ever met? If I remembered correctly, you told me the exact same thing that night. Do you say that to everyone? I’m hurt. Thought my feelings were reciprocated that time. Turns out to be a lie...”

He was still ranting, but you only managed to hear one thing he said. He thought his feelings were reciprocated? Did that mean at that time, he fancied you too? To be honest, if Fred and George didn’t leave Hogwarts that early, maybe the person that you loved for years wouldn’t be Michael anymore. Suddenly, you felt like you just wasted all of these years and all of the heartbreaks.

“So...do you still have feelings for me now?” You felt stupid immediately after your words left your mouth. That was years ago and you were asking about it now?

“Why did you think I wanted to be your fake boyfriend today?”

It was sudden and you still wasn’t sure what you were thinking, but you just kissed him, smashing your lips together.

He was shocked for sure, but soon a smirk appeared on his lips, “What’s with you and all these sudden kisses, Y/L/N?” He then pulled you in and kissed you back. This time properly and with more passion, as if you were both trying to make up for all those lost years.

“So did I actually become your ‘tall and handsome boyfriend’?”

“Maybe, if you could just shut up and kiss me.”

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