#idk man i’m full of love. like it just feels right. i catch myself almost saying it more than is probably normal
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me vs wanting to tell my gf i love her (<- we’ve been dating for 1 (count ‘em. ONE.) week)
#idk man i’m full of love. like it just feels right. i catch myself almost saying it more than is probably normal#not necessarily in a ~i’m in love with you~ way (yet) but in a. i love you as a person on your own. i love your presence in my life.#i love the way that you are. does that make sense. guys she’s going to think i’m crazy#liiiike sorry i have a general love and appreciation for people and humanity and human connection#what. is it a crime. is that a crime. are you going to arrest me#reymbles
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pain relief
Austin Butler x WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)
Reader is trying to hide her chronic pain from her man
warnings: chronic pain (migraines), insecurities, smutty
THIS FOR ALL MY CHRONIC PAIN GIRLIES!!
notes: WOW even with all the Austin wips in my notes this is my first one to be posted, wow idk makes me nervous 😅 yall I hope I did our sweet boy justice.
No description of ethnicity one comment of complexion that’s it but reader when I write is always written with myself in mind. It’s soooo self indulgent.
this is SUPER self indulgent, So I first thought of this from his interview with Jimmy Kimmel when they asked about the migraines as an excuse not to have sex and of course his response was spot on he said “I don’t know what a migraine is” and Jimmy said “of cour you don’t” lmfao bc idk if I’d even turn him down if I had one!
I had a really bad period of back to back migraines for a couple months and this is what my brain rewarded me with in between one. I really don’t know what this is yall lol so don’t ask idk if I’m actually happy with it but yea lol
I put x reader but idk I guess it can tell be read that way, I don’t have the energy to re write it y’all so
now that I’m starting to feel better I will be catching up on my other wips.
if you like it, love it, fuck with it leave some love. I DO NOT give permission for my shit to be used anywhere by anyone.
🤕
Don’t focus on the pain, don’t focus on the pain she repeated over and over again in her head from under the safety of the soft cool cotton comforter as if it would keep away the pounding pain, protect her from it.
It would not.
Even with the house dead silent, the fan on for a little noise and all the black out curtains drawn that her boyfriend insisted he buy when he learned about her diagnosis from childhood- she knew relief would not find her. She shifted trying to readjust and find a more comfortable position to lay in, the little pocket above her head letting much needed cool air into her little bubble.
She knew a few weeks ago she should have reached out to her neurologist but she’d just been so busy it kept slipping her mind and the aspirin had been holding her over but this? no this one was a monster and it was full peak right now. It started almost a day ago after the LA screening for The Bikeriders and had not gone away.
It didn’t help that they also just got back from the UK press tour. All the flying, the red carpets, the flashing lights and noise was starting to take its toll. Recently her boyfriend of just a little over a year revealed to her how much he enjoyed having her accompany him and how he loves sharing those moment with her. Hence all the traveling she’d done recently at his side.
They still believed in healthy space but they truly enjoyed being together as much as they could.
Usually she’d fly out every 2 or so weeks to wherever he was since her job was more flexible, their relationship was long distance since she was still living in New York. Which they’d also discussed changing that status but they both agreed to iron out the plans once the tour was over and he had a few weeks of down time. They figured the actual move would happen after he filmed in NY the end of summer. Knowing summer was her favorite time to be home, ever the thoughtful boyfriend.
Though she was nervous to tell her family. They adored Austin but they’re a very close family and not seeing them everyday would take a lot of time to adjust to but it was important at this point in their relationship to actually be together. He even mentioned he’d love to look for a New York apartment which she had thought was unnecessary they could just stay with any of her family members when they visited until he reminded her she wouldn’t want her family to know she was his pretty girl who got cock drunk and loud when he fuck her stupid. Yes their own place was necessary.
She felt a sharp pain at her temple and groaned. It was like her brain was telling her to stop thinking about all the stress and think about the pain she was in, which she didn’t want to do either honestly. She wish she could sleep it off but it was impossible.
She flipped her pillow to the cool side and once again tried to empty her brain. Deep breaths girl deep breaths, the pain isn’t forever.
She heard the front door slam shut up, which made her curl up even more in a fetal position and the deep smooth voice of her favorite person calling out to her. That voice was her favorite in the whole world but right now she needed silence. She had hoped the migraine would have been over by the time he got back but she wasn’t so lucky. Now she would have to face the music.
She had been telling him the past couple weeks it was just little headaches nothing serious, he knew she got migraines but hadn’t experienced any with her so far. The past 2 years she hadn’t needed to be medicated, the doctor couldn’t tell her why they suddenly stoped and why she was only getting little headaches every once in a while. This is why she was so unprepared and completely out of her medication she hadn’t needed in so long; she truly thought they had finally stopped for good.
She couldn’t have been more wrong with the pain that was throbbing in her head. The front of her skull a constant ache and the back at the base of her skull and neck a wicked throbbing. The pain in her neck and shoulders unbearable even right between her eyes a sharp pain. She felt like she was dying. The fatigue of the attack her body was under was starting to catch up to her. She was trying to hold back the tears but the sound of boots pounding up the stairs along with the call of baby had her on the verge of a tearful melt down.
She wanted to avoid the conversation that would surely come after this, when he would witness her in a peak migraine state. She felt horrible because she knew he’d feel like it was his fault for encouraging her to come with him to all the press events but it wasn’t his fault.
She was an adult and she should have addressed this weeks ago with him and her doctor when the headaches started and not try to hide it to avoid worrying him.
She should have been honest and though she has no reason to be she was scared to tell him. She was scared he may think she wasn’t able to handle this kind of life. What if he wanted someone who didn’t need to recharge so often? Or someone who could just do anything with him at anytime not be laying in a bed sometimes for more then a day in pain and grumpy. Someone who couldn’t be touched in this state or be the prefect girlfriend.
She also knew she sounded ridiculous that wasn’t who Austin was but it didn’t stop the insecurity she had about her migraines and how they held her back from life sometimes. Held her back from being fully emerged into his lifestyle. The guilt wrecked her.
She knew she was mostly feeling insecure about her migraines because of those comments. She wasn’t normally insecure but recently she had read some comments which usually don’t bother her, about her and Austin’s relationship and how unhappy she looked being on press tour and if she was so unhappy why not just leave so he could be with someone who was happier with him. Those people obviously ignored the photos that were not taking at events that showed how happy they were but not knowing or they probably didn’t care she couldn’t be happier than she was, she was just suffering from more frequent migraines.
So of course they’d focus on the bad, not all the fans but some. A lot of fans, who she felt were real fans could simply see how happy Austin seemed again. She knew how that felt, she met Austin as a fan and all his relationships and flings after Vanessa seemed lackluster and without any real connection, so she got it. But some of the comments were really getting to her at this moment. Especially the ones about how he looked happier with Kaia (which she knew was a lie from hell, she heard all about that relationship from Austin, his last ex) and then the ones about Vanessa looking happy ALL the time, which was funny because Austin spoke to her about their relationship also and if fans only knew it wasn’t always perfect, yes they loved each other but still there was a lot of hurt in that relationship for Austin.
Then when those things would pop up she’d think what she’d say to her mans ex’s if she ever met them or if she’d just ignore them.
Her head throbbed hard from all the unnecessary thinking and stress she was bringing onto herself, things she normal never paid any mind when the bedroom door swung open.
Baby? He called again, steps coming to a slow stop halfway into the room when she assumed he noticed the state of the room; all the curtains drawn, the TV and lights all off, no noise but the fan she placed near the bed even though the central air was on and the pile of blankets on the bed covering her balled up body. Not a single part of her visible as she quickly stuck her hand out the air pocket at by her head careful to not let any light in and weakly waved at him. She could hardly speak let alone move her head to acknowledge him anymore.
“Baby you still in bed? It’s 10” He asked as he walked closer, not that he cared it was just unusual for her and caused a bit of concern to form in the pit of stomach.
He watched the head or he’s assuming area of the blanket shake in a yes motion. Even with the black out curtains there was still just enough light to make out everything in the room.
“Baby what’s wrong” he asked in a soft voice from the edge of the bed, his hand running gently up and down some part of her body under the blanket. Her body coiled away from his touch. He tried to shake away the slight sting it caused him.
“uh migraine” she whispered weakly, if he wasn’t mistaken he could hear the underlying embarrassment in her tone. What could she be embarrassed about?
“Oh shit baby, you need anything? Anything I can do?” He genuinely asked in gentler tone, though she couldn’t see how his eyes soften knowing she was probably in an immense amount of pain.
He felt useless.
“Uh no, just gotta be left alone for a while” this time there wasn’t any embarrassment in her tone just guilt.
Austin tried to school his own face and tone of disappointment. He know he couldn’t do anything truly to make it go way but he wanted to help, wanted to be there for her like she’d been there for him on all his overwhelming days and nights from filming and traveling. His sweet girl deserved that. Then he thought back to this one thing he’d came across when he was reading online about migraines when she first told him she got them pretty frequently in the past. He quickly dismissed that idea, a slight blush creeping up his neck, he felt a little embarrassed himself for even thinking to suggest that, who says that to their partner Austin? He thought. She clearly needed to be alone.
“Ok I’m just head downstairs then, call me if you need anything”
He took another moment eyeing her blanket fortress before turning and slowly heading Towards their bedroom door.
“Austin?” He heard her call shyly, her voice still muffled from the layers covering her.
“Yea?” His own tone was laced with curiosity.
“Uh…there…there is one thing you could probably do for me…if you don’t mind..if you do it’s ok-“
He was quick to be at her side, slipping out his shoes, ready for whatever. His stomach burned a little thinking she may ask what he thought of just briefly a moment ago.
“Anything”
He watched her baby blue fresh set of nails slip from under the blanket and her hand reaching out for his. His own large hand was in hers before he even registered it moving. She tugged him lightly, his body following gently. He was careful not to touch her as he laid next to her, his chest near where her head was, he remembered her saying how she didn’t like to be touched when she was having an episode, everything felt more intense and for some reason it usually amplified the pain.
“Can I use your hand for a while?” She asked shyly still under the safety of the blankets, he could hear her clearer through the hole she left at the top.
He felt guilty at the blood that rushed his cock.
“Of course” He said squeezing the right hand that held his left one.
He allowed her to maneuver his hand so that his left hand was under her head, she placed his fingers at the base of her skull, thumb on one side and his fore finger and pointer finger on the left side.
“Can you keep your fingers like this and apply as much pressure as you can? This are some of my pain points and the right kind of pressure can ease the pain a little, usually I tie a scarf but it isn’t always helpful” she mumbled weakly.
He was confused.
“Oh ok..I..I thought-“
This wasn’t something he read, though he seen something about heat compress. He was confused because he thought she was going to ask for his hand to give her an orgasm. That was something interesting that he had came across. It said it didn’t work for everyone hence why he was slightly embarrassed to suggest it, he didn’t want her to think he was only thinking with his dick.
He applied the pressure anyway, happy to help anyway he could.
“Is that good baby?”
“You can press a bit harder”
He did as she said, feeling her body adjust just the tiniest bit next to him. A soft sigh leaving her lips.
She soft voice thanked him. He hummed a response, his own body adjusting slightly to get more comfortable. He would lay here as long as she needed.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she called his name.
“Yea?” He asked feeling more tired himself than what he thought he was when he got home.
“What were you going to say? When I asked for your hand?” She replied softly voice full of the need for sleep.
His felt that fire and a blush come back. He chuckled to himself. Now was good as anytime to confess his unconventional suggest and figure out if it was something helpful to her or if it was something she even heard of before.
“Uh..I..I had been reading about migraines when you first told me you got them, trying to understand them better-“ He was cut off by a whimper she made, a pitiful sound of endearment. He knew what she was thinking, she was taken back by his willingness to be there for her however he could and that meant trying to understand what she would be going through. He kept going. “And I was reading how orgasms can sometimes help temporarily, but I didn’t want you to think I was just thinking with my dick” he concluded softly. Feeling better about just getting it out and in the open, it didn’t feel so dirty anymore, like he was taking advantage somehow. He knew her better than to think she would think that but it didn’t stop his insecurities about the topic.
He felt her body stilled.
shit was she mad at him? He felt the slight unease creep into his stomach and his insecurities intensify at the thought that she would be mad at him for suggesting such a thing when he noticed her right hand slip from under the covers.
Her soft palm facing up and open in a silent question and permission, are you still willing? And of course you can touch me.
He let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding and gave her his right hand, her soft fingers gently pulled his under the covers, her forearm resting ontop of his own as she slipped his hand under hers to be guided where he couldn’t see. Once his rough fingers tips ghosted over her wet pussy he didn’t need anymore guidance, he knew her too well, maybe better than she knew herself.
She gasped at the first touch and her hand left his to grip his forearm, as he’d started to explore her wet folds.
“How are you this wet already sweet girl? Hmm? Just can’t help yourself around daddy?” Austin questioned softly from above her, awe clear in his voice. He stayed laid on his left side, careful his body other than his hands didn’t touch her.
“Fuck” she groaned quietly from under the blankets. “Guess my body always needs you daddy” she moaned out. He groaned as his fingers applied more pressure and speed.
He felt the twitch in cock as she coated his fingers and moaned softly and weakly. His fingers switching between slow and quick. He was so painfully hard. He had to stay focus this was about her but how could he when her tight wet warm pussy was calling him? Begging for him. Her body was hardly moving just her hips grinding slowly into him.
Even fully covered by a ton of blankets he was still completely in-tune with her body. He didn’t need to see her face though he wished he could to kiss her soft lips, to know the pleasure he was giving her, to know she was close.
He blindly felt the warmth and wetness of her pussy driving into his hand slowly chasing the pleasure he was somehow able to provide in this state.
“Cum for me pretty girl, take it” he groaned lowly.
She moaned out, she sounded so exhausted and pitiful but he could tell she wanted this, needed it and he was more than happy to give it to her.
She squealed softly as she rocked against his hand, her body exploding and the sweetness of her drenching his fingers, her face seeking the comfort of his embrace under the blanket, he moved over slightly as his left hand still pressed to the pain points guided her, help her her blanket covered forehead lay against his chest. Her hips kept rocking slowly chasing the feeling.
“There you go baby” his husky voice praised even with a migraine she was still his good girl. So wet and warm and tight for him.
Moments passed with his fingers still cupping her warm sticky folds and the other still applying the pressure she required, neither hand moved as he felt her drift of to sleep, her body finally relaxing from the endorphins of her orgasm.
Austin woke to the press of a soft warm body slightly on top of his and light kisses and licks against his neck. He stirred and tried to adjust his eyesight to the darkness that had over taking the room. It must be late.
“Hey baby” her voice sounded softly, her lips suddenly near his own. She kissed his plump mouth, pecking kisses over and over. She sounded a lot better.
His arms moved to embrace her, pulling her further ontop of him and as close as he could get her.
“Hey baby” he replied his eyes seeking hers. The dimmed light from the hallway allowed him to finally see her. Though he didn’t physically see her face earlier, he knew she looked more well rested than she had in the past day or two. Her eyes had a fatigue to them but he was sure that would clear up from the migraine once she got some more rest. All and all she almost looked back to her normal self.
Her hand snaked up his chest to cup his face.
“Thank you, for everything” she told him a little emotionally.
He brought his lips to her for a passionate kiss, before laying his foreheads on hers.
“You don’t ever have to thank me, I’m yours, that’s what I’m here for, to take care of you” he whispered against her lips.
She pecked his again.
“And I’m still going to say thank you” she mumbled.
He pinched her side playfully as she laughed and pushed at him.
They just gazed at one another and she had to blink to stop the tears. She had woke to Austin on his back, her body against his. She had unconsciously sought his while she slept as the tension faded from her body and to her surprise his hand was still gripping the back of her head. The pressure had loosed when he eventually fell asleep but his hand was still there nonetheless. She didn’t think she could love the man more and here she was slipping further in the ocean that was Austin and some how she was learning she could breathe underwater. He was everything to her.
“I have a surprise for you sweet boy” she said smiling at him like he hung the moon and she’d die on that hill that he did.
Austin’s chest ached in a good way. He never wanted this to end. Couldn’t imagine it being any other way. Everything that had failed for him relationship wise lead him to this moment with her. He was better for it.
“Hmm, what’s that?”
She nodded her head to the side of him and that’s when he noticed the en-suite bathroom door open and the soft glow of candles burning. The scent of oils and salts hitting him. He quickly turned back to her.
“Wh-“
“You were knocked out and I wanted to return the love”
“You little sneak” he accused tickling her sides.
She was quick to scramble away from his hold and climb over him getting to her feet and out of his grasp when his hands followed her as she head toward the bathroom.
She stopped short of the door as she pulled her oversize graphic shirt over her head.
“I would do that you know, sometimes, never with men though, I hated being touched during my migraines but when it was really bad and I had the energy I would do it myself to help ease the pain” she spoke from the doorway to the bathroom, the soft light surrounding her body, giving a even more beautiful glow to her brown skin. “I didn’t think it would ever work from someone else’s hand, not too sure what that means handsome” she smirked.
So she had done that before he thought but just never with man, no man had ever made her comfortable enough to try let alone achieve bringing her relief. Austin felt those butterflies in this stomach again, he felt a sense a pride swell in his chest. His cock was even stirring again. That’s exactly who he wanted to be for her, the man that gave what she needed, what others couldn’t, he wanted to be the one no other man could compare to. He wanted to be her all.
She smirked at him almost as if she could read his every thought and she could because they mirror her own and how she felt about him.
“Lets go loverboy, it’s time for the real show”
X
X
ALSO yall don’t have to say anything abt it but i find it helps SOMETIMES but alone so I thought who could make this work for me with another person of course our boy Austin could bc he’s so perfect. He’s the only one I’d let touch me with a migraine lol
#austin#ughwrites#austin butler#austin butler fanfiction#austin butler smut#austin butler imagine#austin butler x reader#austinbutleredit#austin butler x you#austin butler x y/n#austin butler x black!reader#feyd Rautha x reader#feyd rautha x you#Austin butler x woc reader
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nct dream as yearning songs
a/n! This is for funzies only! I don’t know any of them personally so I’m only comparing and linking their behavior shown through videos with the behavior of those I know in real life (me included). And also, If you haven’t listened to any of these songs, PLEASE give them a listen bc I feel like it’ll help you guys better understand my vision :)
Mark - End Of Beginning, Djo
Just one more tear to cry, one teardrop from my eye
You better save it for
The middle of the night when things aren't black and white
Enter, Troubadour
"Remember 24?"
Mark’s always talking about finally beginning a project whenever he’s with the dreamies, so I always get reminded of this song (that’s not the only reason tho) once the “is it really starting this time?” teasing commences — even though it might pass as a “funny” quirk, the need to establish out loud that they are “restarting” or finally starting things as if from scratch, might be because of something deeper. Mark seems like the kind of guy who works hard and reminisces about his past, especially when it comes to where it all (ironically) started. He works so hard and is almost never relaxing or taking a vacation, he says he’s fine, but since I'm a workaholic as well, I can tell you guys that we always end up breaking down because of how much stuff we’re doing. So, in those overwhelming moments, I can imagine Mark looking back to when he was in Canada, being able to rest and take in all the small pleasures the world can offer, not having to worry about his image, his feelings, his needs or if he’s “korean enough” to be working as an idol (idk about you guys, but that distinction between being a pure korean vs a mixed korean would drive me insane. I’d be so upset to always have to prove myself and prove that part of my nationality), reminiscing about the times when he was full of dreams, peace, and most importantly, energy.
You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man
Renjun - Abstract (Psychopomp), Hozier
See how it shines
Renjun is a very simple and honest man; he knows what he likes, what he doesn’t and knows how to set up his boundaries. However, he’s really sensible when it comes to life (in ALL its meanings), which is why I’m reminded of this song whenever I think of him. I’m grateful for all the things Renjun has shared with us, such as his mental health, hobbies and just his personality in general. Abstract is a song that shows how much its “subject” is sensible, brave (for jumping into traffic in order to rescue the dying/already dead animal) and never seems to catch a break, while the one singing (in this case, Hozier) can only take in the sight, not being able to do anything to help. In this analogy, Renjun is the subject and his friends/family/fans are Hozier, y’all. I feel like he strives to protect those he loves, and yearns for their well being when he can’t do anything to help.
(it was tough to choose just a small part of the song, when in fact, in my opinion, the whole thing describes him so well)
The speed that you moved
The screech of the cars
The creature still moving
That slowed in your arms
The fear in its eyes
Gone out in an instant
Your tear caught the light
The Earth from a distance
Jeno - Yes To Heaven, Lana Del Rey
If you go, I'll stay
You come back, I'll be right here
Like a barge at sea
In the storm, I stay clear
We’ve got ourselves a lover boy! No surprises there, I think. Even though this song comes from a female point of view, I think it still describes Jeno really well. Getting back on track, I feel like this suits him given the fact that when he likes someone, he likes someone — if he feels strongly like that, it’s even more intense when it comes to his loved ones, hence the song. Jeno would do anything in the world for his partner, and that includes fighting for them, to keep them by his side even if things get incredibly tough.
His reason to yearn would be his person, before he even managed to win them over. Jeno would yearn for a life next to his loved one, for their acceptance and approval of him — nothing would make him happier than hearing a yes from his lover.
Say yes to Heaven
Say yes to me
Haechan - Gilded Lily, Cults
Now it's been long enough to talk about it
I've started not to doubt it, just wrap my head around it
I remember when you told me it's an everyday decision
But with my double vision, how was I supposed to see the way?
This boy is one of the most hard-working human beings on earth, methinks. Because he’s always giving, exposing and donating parts of himself to the world, not gaining anything back… The amount of hate and fake news he gets thrown at him is insane, being the reason why I always think of him when listening to this song. He has the biggest heart ever, and he pays the price for it every single day of his life. Haechan’s personality is bright and it should shine as much as it needs to, he might look overly confident but I wouldn’t doubt that in fact, he’s totally insecure about himself and about his skills, lost in the world yearning for appreciation. Gilded Lily suits him so much it actually pains me to make this connection anywhere other than my brain.
His hard work isn’t half as repaid as it should be. Some “fans” should be embarrassed to call themselves such when the first thing they do is to attack Hae.
Haven't I given enough, given enough?
Always the fool with the slowest heart
But I know you'll take me with you
We'll live in spaces between walls
Jaemin - Chemtrails Over The Country Club, Lana Del Rey
I'm on the run with you, my sweet love
There's nothing wrong contemplating God
Under the chemtrails over the country club
In another life, I believe that Jaemin could’ve been living peacefully in a suburb, white picket fences and all. This song is filled with nostalgia and the wish to run away with your loved one, which painfully reminds me of Jaemin. He’s the perfect man, the perfect gentleman even, so that’d make his partner want to elope with him. However, this image of him resides only in my (and now, your) imagination — that’s why I chose this song for him. Whenever I take in anything that Jaemin does, I can help but think about how I’d feel in his shoes: he had the plan to become a doctor, did charity work, played the piano, got good grades and was handsome. Having such high standards and some fondness towards the academic way of life, would I be 100% satisfied living an idol life? The answer is no, ergo my need to choose this song for him. If my hunch about Jaem is correct, he’d be yearning for the possibilities of having another life, especially when it comes to love. From what he has shown us, he wouldn’t be the type to voluntarily want to hide his loved one — I feel like he’d want to boast to the world about them.
I interpret this song as a life the singer would like to have had with their loved one, but couldn’t since the opportunity passed, and is now cursed to live forever with their “what ifs”.
My love, my love
Washing my hair, doing the laundry
Late night TV, I want you on me
Like when we were kids
Under chemtrails and country clubs
It's never too late, baby, so don't give up
Chenle - loml, Taylor Swift
If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary
You and I go from one kiss to gettin’ married
Still alive killing time at the cemetery
Never quite buried
In your suit and tie, in the nick of time
You lowdown boy, you standup guy
You Holy Ghost, you told me I'm
The love of your life
I apologize in advance to all you Chenle stans out there for bringing this up, but… IT NEEDS TO BE SAID. He fits this song so much it’s actually insane. He doesn’t have many regrets in his life (as said by the man himself), so in a world in which he’d yearn, it’d definitely be because of love, hence why his song is loml. Chenle wouldn’t be able to get over his first love, leading to countless daydreaming sessions and longing sighs. He’d reminisce about his time with the person, over analyzing everything that was said and done, remembering even the smallest things the other person said he didn’t care about. Losing something makes you realize what that thing really meant, thus creating the eternal heartache of knowing that you took it for granted — despite all the fights and wrong-doings, Chenle would never be able to forgive himself for losing the person he loved.
His first love would stay with him forever, but as time goes by, they’d be only a soft memory instead of a lingering sadness.
Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire
Your arson's match, your somber eyes
And I'll still see it until I die
You're the loss of my life
Jisung - Brother, Kodaline
If I was dying on my knees
You would be the one to rescue me
And if you were drowned at sea I
'd give you my lungs so you could breathe
If there’s one quality I’d use to describe Jisung, It’d be loyalty. He’s extremely loyal towards his hyungs, and that’s why I chose this song for him. Once the dreamies weren’t a fixed unit, Jisung shared his fear of being alone, and without his older brothers by his side, he knew not of what the future had in store for him. Hence why the lyrics (this one in particular: When we were young, we were the ones // The kings and queens, oh yeah we ruled the world) and just the “desperate” vibes of the song scream Park Jisung. He loves the dreamies so much that losing them would be as devastating as losing one of his family members. We don’t get to see the clingy and soft side of Jisung as much as the boys do, but just because we as fans don’t experience it, doesn’t mean that they can’t feel it.
There’s just not much to say besides that he loves his members to the point of sacrificing himself for them.
I’ve got you brother
The whole group - Home, Edith Whiskers ver.
We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night
Nothing new is sweeter than with you
I couldn’t do something like this without mentioning the dark period of when Mark was removed from the unit (sorry in advance <3), so here it is! Home would be their song from when they missed Mark, and kept reminiscing about their debut and previous comeback when their leader and older brother was still there with them. The song might come from a romantic point of view, but it’s just as fitting for a friend group, therefore making it perfect to describe the dreamie’s situation.
Losing someone important is awful, especially when that person is “removed” from your day-to-day life thanks to other people’s choices — it isn’t fair, and I’m sure the boys felt this way for a long period of time until they could shine again with Mark by their side. They’ve never been better and nct dream is now on the way to become even more powerful than before, and for that I’m incredibly proud of the children they were, who maintained themselves strong and brave throughout a heartbreaking moment. The dreamies deserve the best and my heart is at ease to see that their recognition is finally arriving. They are my home, and I’m sure they are your home as well :)
Oh, home, let me come home
Home is wherever I'm with you
#nct dream#nct dream drabbles#nct dream imagines#nct dream fic#nct dream fanfic#nct fic#nct imagines#mark lee#lee haechan#park jisung#na jaemin#lee jeno#huang renjun#zhong chenle#chenle drabbles#renjun drabble#chenle imagines#renjun imagines#mark drabbles#mark imagines#haechan drabbles#haechan imagines#jisung drabbles#jisung imagines#jeno drabbles#jeno imagines#jaemin drabbles#jaemin imagines#dreamies
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First library sale of the year! Their bag sale, specifically. I initially went on the first night but I was so exhausted from work that I legitimately did not enjoy myself; I found no proper treasure and only bought 2 things, not least because I was surprised to find hardcovers were $2 instead of $1. So instead, I hatched a plan to come back for the $5 bag sale on Sunday, because I had a lot of fun with those in 2021 and didn’t really go to any in 2022 because I was already way over capacity with my regular buying. This time I had a great excuse!
My bag sale objectives are twofold: one, scoop up pretty books to dump in my HPB “sale fodder” bag (left side pic) -- I do not feel bad about this as long as I’ve given people who might genuinely want them at least a full weekend day plus a bag sale hour to pick them up first -- and two, grab whatever even mildly catches my eye once the bulk has been picked over, because hey, $5 whether I take two books or twenty-five, and *slaps reinforced paper sack* this bad boy can fit so many books.
I’m including the stack on the left just for general interest if anyone’s curious what kind of things I found. I don’t know any of these titles and am not interested in reading them. EXCEPT “Sold,” which I don't need a physical copy of but do love, and am probably going to buy as an e-book at some point because the writing is so profoundly moving. Might even just put that one in a Little Free Library, so strongly do I believe in its literary value to portray a harsh topic in teen-appropriate ways.
Below the cut, photos exclusively of the much-less-pretty, mostly-ex-library books’ covers from the stack on the right, along with extremely and unnecessarily long winded commentary.
(hmmm, I did not arrange these in the same order I wanted to talk about them, but I guess I’d better follow the pics)
Adult Fiction & Nonfiction
1. Spill Simmer Falter Wither - Sara Baume (2015): Will I love it, IDK. Will I keep it...even less sure. But it’s about a solitary older man who adopts an unwanted dog, and it seems very introspective and beautifully written without being too heavily literary. This is almost always a trap in literary fiction, but what if it wasn’t.
2. The Distance Home - Orly Konig (2017): Ooh! on my TBR for like 5 years now, because horses + women’s fiction, everything in the summary appeals to me. Grabbed partly to ensure I have access in case the last copy gets weeded after this, and partly because there’s a good chance I’ll want to keep it.
3. The Escape - Lisa Harris (2020): would not have paid for this on its own, but on bag sale day I grabbed it for convenience just to read because “two air marshals transporting a dangerous prisoner crash-land in the mountains and everyone except them dies and now they need to catch the bad guy on the loose” really ticks all my law-enforcement-character-loving + wilderness setting + thriller preferences. [edit: it was exactly what I expected, nothin’ special. but to my delight, the library stickers actually peeled beautifully off this one so now it’s going in the sale pile]
4. Cold Day in the Sun - Sara Biren (2019): Oops, this one’s YA. Anyway, still haven’t read her books but I suspect I might like them, and they are so unpopular here that the library only has 1 copy left; it won’t last much longer. So, convenience again.
5. Wanderer - Sara Leon (2016): I skimmed through this last year when I was looking for pianist/composer characters and it wasn’t quite what I was in the mood for, but it’s slim and at some point I will be in the mood for “a novel that explores the stifled, unspoken feelings of a music teacher and his former student, and the damage done by their years of silence.” And the library weeded BOTH of its remaining copies at once in this sale so yeah, tucking this safely aside for later.
6. Leaving the Pink House - Ladette Randolph (2014): university press published memoir, I don’t know if I will really like her but there are no local library copies left and I love houses so much that this immediately grabbed my attention: on September 12, 2001, Randolph and her husband bought a dilapidated farmhouse on twenty acres outside Lincoln, Nebraska, and set about gutting and rebuilding the house themselves. They had nine months to complete the work. The project, undertaken at a time of national unrest and uncertainty, led Randolph to reflect on the houses of her past and the stages of her life that played out in each, both painful and joyful.
Children’s & YA (mostly)
7. My Friend Flicka - Mary O’Hara: One of two I bought on Thursday. Not the most beautiful copy but not a bad one either, 1960s ex-school-library and fairly clean pages. Because I was just thinking about how odd it is that I neither own a copy of this very famous novel, nor ever see copies of it at these sales, despite owning the latter two books in the trilogy. I’d like to reread it, and haven’t since childhood.
8. I Tell A Lie Every So Often - Bruce Clements (1974): OH HEY, one of the long-weeded-from-local-libraries titles from Lost Masterworks of Young Adult Lit?? Instant snag! I’m always interested in reading those for myself, even though this one does not look nearly as exciting as hoped. Will probably read & release.
9. Vinyl Princess -- Yvonne Prinz (2009): I don’t remember this title well but I remember it fondly, and every time I look at it on Goodreads I think about rereading it, not least because she was really ahead of the curve in writing about a modern day teen who thinks music sounds better on records. I always promised myself I’d buy it if the library ever weeded its last copy, and that day has come.
10. King of the Screwups - K.L. Going (2009): actually, nah, this one’s going in the sale bag as originally planned. While sorting them I caught enough in the jacket summary about a complicated father/son relationship to make me wonder “Loki vibes?” and consider trying it, but upon further examination this just looks like an awful time. Trashy teen boys are not where it’s at for me.
11. More Tales for the Midnight Hour - J.B. Stamper (1992): I bought Still More Tales for the Midnight Hour as a teen and have loved it ever since; with this one I think I might finally have the full set o’ spook.
12. Both Sides of Time - Caroline B. Cooney (1995): I read so many of her books in high school, but I remember this one being one of the best. Mass market paperback is a very convenient way to store access. Plus, Laurel Leaf imprint is my favorite paperback imprint. very nostalgia/comfort.
13. Call it Courage - Armstrong Sperry: an elementary school fave I’ve almost forgotten, bought to revisit briefly and then I’ll release because holy hell is this cover ugly, and the too-stiff binding basically made to crack and dump the pages out.
14. Vacancy - K.R. Alexander (2021): THE children’s horror author of the modern day. I’ve actually read a couple of his books recently because the covers alone were so creepy, and had a blast, so I’d like to read this one too and then I’ll let it go. Much better in print than as an e-book, but library only has it on Libby.
15. Nop’s Trials - Donald McCraig (1985): Ending where we began, with an adult-fiction dog book set in nearly the same region... Except this is much better. It’s the other one I bought Thursday, and the closest to treasure in the set, because I read this in high school and 5-star loved it and have been looking out for a cheap copy ever since, but only ever saw it in a huge and heavy oversized hardcover. At last, the mass market paperback of my dreams/same as the one I originally read is mine.
BONUS FUN FACTS:
(because I love to talk books and literally cannot shut up about them)
1. I spent an hour walking around and it was honestly fascinating to watch the number of books shrink in real time, circulating volunteers constantly consolidating sections and folding up/removing emptied tables. Practically a time lapse vid.
2. I donated a full grocery bag of books to this sale myself, and I was so excited by how many I saw on Thursday that were gone by Sunday. I also took back 3 of them (not pictured above) that had not been taken by an hour before sale ending time, because I was Personally Offended about it -- one of them was a horse book! i just accidentally had two copies of it -- and went, “fine, I’ll bring them somewhere they’re appreciated!”
(joke, but I really do plan to donate them to another sale and hope they have better luck in a new county. I don’t know for sure what the Friends do with unsold stock after these sales and I don’t want to, but I’d rather not risk ones I like being thrown out / donated anywhere that will pulp stock en masse if I don’t have to.)
#these pictures are v. low quality and ugly and they still took me so so much effort to take AND upload#I made it a photo post but truly this is a text post SO MUCH TEXT oh my god#but i've been wanting to post about book sale adventures here for over a year and i finally did!#library sale#oh shoot! forgot I also grabbed 1 picture book because The Puppy Who Wanted A Boy is so so cute and now I can keep it
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A/N: I would like to preface this by letting everyone know that I am in no way knowledgeable about actual science things. That being said I am amazed that in a random draw I actually managed to get a prompt that had to do with flowers lol. This is my contribution to the BakuHarem Collab! Please take a second to check out the other contributions here!
Warning: bad science, no protection, swearing, overs!mulation, accidental exhibti0som, intoxicated smut? idk sex pollen is a drug i guess.....
W/C: 3.5k
“Bakugou, dude. We should not-”
“Shut up Kirishima!” Bakugou walks through the sterile hallways checking every corner for signs of other people. “That bitch took my top spot with some bullshit flowers?!” He finally gets to the lab that was granted to you for your research. After winning first place, stealing first place in the UA university science expo. He walks into the observing lobby, looking through the large window to make sure you weren’t working in the lab after hours.
“Just keep quiet and listen for any one coming this way.” He walks over to the security door and holds his key card up to it, the light on the scanner turns green and he hears the dead bolt slide open.
Kirishima is lingering behind him, hovering in the doorway. He turns to Bakugou to talk him out of this again but his friend has already entered the lab. “Ahh geez.” He didn’t even wear any safety gear.
As the door clicks shut behind him, Bakugou stops to examine the lab. Several different species of flowers in full bloom behind temperature controlled enclosures. Some of them are recognizable; lavender, chamomile, and jasmine. “I thought it would smell like the perfume department, this fuckin place smells like heaven.” Guess it wasn’t a new shampoo she was using then.
He walks through the aisles turning his head this way and that, trying to find something, anything that he can fuck up without it being overtly obvious. He gets to the back corner of the lab and sees a piece of familiar equipment. “Perfect.”
*****
“He said WHAT?!”
Your roommate flinches at your reaction to her news. “He told Professor Aizawa that your ‘Viagra flowers’ are a joke to the science department and they should ‘wither and die’.”
You’re fuming. That fuck tard Bakugou, mister my shit don’t stink is ridiculing my research? “All that man knows is how to blow shit up! Just cause I beat him in the expo this year, he thinks my research is a joke?!” You stand up from the couch, pacing in front of it and you can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “Why did I ever like that twat?”
Cause he has wide shoulders, big hands and scarlet eyes that -
“Oh for the love of god shut up.” Screw your inner thoughts.
Ochako watches you pace, worrying in her eyes when yours line with silver and your neck flushes bright red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”
You stop moving and look at her, guilt flooding through you as she slumps forward. “Don’t apologize, I was talkin to myself babe.” She nods her head weakly and you stand up straight “I’m gonna go.” You walk to the door grabbing your coat and key card.
“W-where are you going?” Ochako follows you to the door and grabs your wrist gently. You turn to her and smile, she was always so sweet but you knew that if shit went down she would be right beside you, kicking ass.
“I need to blow off some steam, so I’m gonna go check on my ‘Viagra flowers’.” She huffs a laugh and let's go.
“Alright, don’t stay too late.”
You nod, put on your shoes and leave the dorm. It’s a bit of a walk to the building the lab is in and hopefully the cool breeze will calm your mind.
*****
As you walk into the building you are grateful that your professor is more of a night owl than most students. Considering how many naps he takes during lectures it is no wonder he can’t sleep at night. You contemplate going to his office to say hi but think better of it.
Don’t wanna end up venting about Bakugou to my professor of all people.
You walk down the hallway and notice the door to your lab is cracked. Not unusual, a lot of students from your class have been coming and going to see the different species of flowers and plants you are growing. Assuming someone didn’t shut the door behind them you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Out of the corner of your vision a quick flash of red and you walk right into Kirishima, Bakugou’s friend and one of your classmates.
“Hey! How- how's it goin?”
You take a step back, rubbing your nose from face planting into his giant chest. Does this guy eat boulders for breakfast? “Hey Kiri! Just gonna do some late night tests! You checkin out my garden?”
“Yeah! Flowers are pretty.” He laughs, it’s high pitched and obviously forced.
You take in his nervous appearance, the fact that he is still standing in front of the door and your mood sours.
“Where is he?”
Kirishima looks like he is gonna try and stall but one look at the fury in your eyes and his head hangs down. “He’s in the lab,” you rush past him and punch in the code to open the door. “I tried to talk him out of it!”
The door clicks shut and the spiky blonde huffs in annoyance somewhere in the back of the lab.
“I told you shitty hair, if you’re gonna keep a look out you have to stand outside.”
You clear your throat and his head shoots up. You walk over to him, taking note of all of the plants and equipment, taking note of anything that looks different. As you get closer to him you notice that he smells particularly good tonight.
Keep it in your pants idiot
“Really Bakugou?” You stop a few steps away from him, noticing the various disassembled parts on the counter top behind him. “What were you gonna do, break my extraction equipment and make it look like a malfunction? Are you a B-Movie villain?”
He stands up and you are reminded of how small you feel next to him, wide shoulders, arms barely fitting the t-shirt he was wearing, strong chest that tapers to a toned waist. He laughs and you look at his face. What I wouldn’t give to just lick from your navel to your neck.
“A B-Movie villain huh? That’s rich coming from the fanfiction cliché scientist.” He crosses his arms, your eyes quickly dart to the sight of his biceps flexing with the movement then back at him.
“Fanfiction cliché? What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You take another step towards him, softly inhaling his scent. Why does he smell so good?
He laughs at you again, the sound caresses your skin and you realize your feeling very, very hot. You drag your fingers through your hair, your eyes zeroing in on a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. When you lick your lips and shift to take another step closer a small part of your brain connects the dots. “What. Did. You. Do?”
Bakugou looks at you, noticing your flushed cheeks and eyes that show you aren’t quite your normal smart and sexy self. Reaching behind himself you hear the unmistakable sound of clinking glass, he grabs a beaker, an open beaker. “Just grabbed this from your equipment, I know how long it takes to extract this stuff. Would suck if it were to suddenly go missing.”
“You idiot! Do you know how potent it is in that form?!” You reach for it but he pulls the beaker out of your reach. “Why do you think I keep it enclosed? You have to close it up now!”
“Why should I?”
Honestly how stupid can this guy get?!
“Put it back in the enclosure first and I’ll explain it to you!” Your breathing is getting heavy, the closer you get to Bakugou the hotter your body feels. You lunge for him again and trip, he hurries to put the beaker on the table behind him and catch you. Put off balance from the position you both crash to the floor with him underneath you. Sighing in frustration you lift yourself up only to bump your head on the table, knocking over the beaker and spilling the extract over you both.
“Shit!” You scramble off of him and run to the door, pressing the exposure button and effectively locking it. You turn to Bakugou and back up trying your best to keep your distance. “Stay on that side of the room, if we’re far enough apart the effects won’t be as bad.”
“What are the effects?” The question is spoken so calmly that you almost convince yourself he didn’t speak at all.
“What are the fucking side effects!?” His shirt is soaked, sticking to his tanned skin. The outline of his chiseled body makes your mouth go dry. You look back at his face, his mouth twisted in frustration at your silence but no less attractive. The sharp angle of his jawline, pink lips slightly chapped, aristocratic nose, scarlet eyes that-
“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Shaking your head to clear some of the fog in your brain, you focus on him again.
“It’s an aphrodisiac so obviously it enhances sexual desire.”
“Yeah-yeah, sex pollen I get it. But what else?” he rings out the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly and you avert your eyes.
“It is not sex pollen, I don’t even use the pollen of the plant.” the last part coming out in a mumble. “The aphrodisiac only works on people who are consenting adults that are attracted to each other.” You clear your throat.
Bakugou freezes for a moment and looks up at you, examining you. The flushed skin, short breaths, and how you keep as much distance between the two of you as the small lab provides.
“So why are you so far away then?” The smirk on his face is sinful as all hell.
Cheeky bastard.
“Surely I don’t have to spell it out for you.” Resisting the urge to turn your face away from him like a pouty child..
“HA!” The smug look on his face momentarily lifts the cloud of lust and replaces it with anger. “Of course you’re attracted to me, who wouldn’t be?”
“Well, aren't you a cocky bastard?” Hoping you're not about to embarrass yourself you take a chance and muster up some courage. Slowly walking up to him you notice that his forehead is glistening with sweat, his breathing heavy, ears and back of his neck flushed with pink. “Tell me, Katsuki. How are you feeling?”
A few steps and you can see his hands balled up in white knuckled fists, a few more his jaw clench and unclench. Once you are only an arms length away you can see him swallow harshly, Adam's apple bobbing, nostrils flaring. You push your breasts against his toned chest, the light friction causing a moan to escape your mouth, the sound going straight to his cock.
“I’m - I’m fine.” Bakugou clears his throat, the sound of his first name from your lips sweeter than it should be.
“Lookin a little flushed, you feeling hot?”
He doesn’t answer, his attention captured by the closeness of your body, your lips, the tops of your breasts peeking out of the v neck top you’re wearing.. He stops breathing when your tongue flicks out to lick your bottom lip.
“Cat got your tongue?”
On impulse his hands move to rest on your hips, eyes never leaving your lips. “What was the question again?”
“How. Are. You. Feeling.” you walk your fingers up his chest with each word before pulling his head down so you can whisper in his ear, the anger fading fast. “Katsuki.” You hear him growl, the sound reverberating through your core, then you're being picked up.
“I’m gonna ruin you.” Bakugou crashes his lips to yours, pressing you up against one of the walls and bracing you with one hand so that the other can wrap around your throat. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He bites your lip, licking it to soothe the hurt. “Smart, funny, sexy, beautiful.”
You whine at the words and grind against the bulge in his pants, your pussy throbbing with need. “Need to feel you touch me Bakugou.” He stops moving and you shift to try and grind against him again but he holds you tight, slightly squeezing the sides of your neck.
“What happened to calling me by my first name, baby girl?” Loosening his hand and crouching down as if to put you down you sputter out “Kat-Katsuki Please touch me.”
The feral grin on his face has your pussy drooling and you all but sigh in relief when he stands up straight and slips a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. “Oh god yes.”
“You’re so soft baby,” he pulls one of the cups down and rolls your nipple in between his fingers. “Take off your shirt, wanna see those pretty tits.”
Katsuki keeps playing with your nipple when you rip your shirt off, making short work of your bra and tossing it. As soon as the other nipple is in view he dives down to suckle it, his mouth hot. You throw your head back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pushing your chest out to give him better access.
He is merciless in his teasing, alternating between breasts, making sure to suck each nipple till they are both hard peaks. Kissing the top of your soft globes, your collarbone and neck, everywhere his mouth goes is left with a mark in varying shades of red and purple.
You grow impatient with him, needing to make him feel as good wanting to feel him with your hands, mouth, teeth.
“Wanna feel you too Katsuki.” you whine as he pinches one nipple while nibbling the other one. When you pull on his hair a little he groans but lifts his head, pulling both nipples with him before letting them go.
“What do ya wanna feel, baby girl?”
With all your inhibitions throw out the window you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel you fuck me.”
You pull away and he quickly sets you down, you’re about to object when he takes his shirt off in one smooth motion then starts unbuttoning his jeans. You rush to follow, unzipping your pants and pulling them down, before you can pull down your panties he grabs your hand stopping you. “Leave ‘m on.”
Katsuki picks you up again before you can get a good look at his cock, but when it's pressed against you there is no need to see it. “Fuck you’re huge.”
He smirks at you, smug pride in his eyes. “Glad you approve.” Reaching a hand down he pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your wet folds. “This all for me?” bringing his fingers up to show you the slick dripping down them he puts them in his mouth and sucks. “Gonna have to enjoy that tasty treat later.”
Your body is burning up, breathing is heavy as you both watch him drag his cock along your wet slit before pushing in. Your moans echo in the lab and neither one of you cares as Katsuki's cock drags against your inner walls until bottoming out. Right now is not the time for slow strokes, not with the aphrodisiac flowing through both of your bodies, so he starts a pace that has your ass slapping against his thighs.
“C-cumming!” You scream out before your body bows in on itself and you're creaming around his cock.
“Already?” a sideways grin on his face Katsuki starts moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, his cock reaching that much deeper. “Gonna cum for me again? Come on baby, wanna feel you milk my cock.”
Your mind is going blank, the only thing running through it is Katsuki. “Please don’t stop,” you dig your nails into his shoulders. “M Gonna cum again.” His thrusts go shallow and the head of his cock drags against your walls, hitting all the right spots.
You’re repeating his name endlessly, the only word that is in your mind then you’re cumming again. Your legs tense around his waist and your pussy clenches down hard enough that he has to stop moving or risk hurting you. He watches your face contorted in pleasure and starts thrusting as soon as he feels your orgasm subside.
“One more.”
Your head fuzzy, body limp from two orgasms. “I can’t!”
“Wrong,” Katsuki pulls out for a second, setting you on the floor and pushing on your back. You obediently bend forward grabbing the edge of the counter top and he wastes no time in rutting back into you. “You want me to stop?”
“NO”
“Then you got one more beautiful thing.” He sticks two fingers in his mouth, getting them wet then reaches around rubbing soft circles on your puffy clit. His other hand gripping your hip, before moving up and grabbing your shoulder using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.
“Come on, cum for me.”
You turn your head to the side trying your best to look in his eyes, yours tearing up at the overstimulation. “You cum too, fill me up Katsuki.”
“Oh fuck yeah.” Bending his knees he thrusts up into you and with the new angle, teasing circles being rubbed on your clit and the feral moans coming out of his mouth you cum one last time.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck
Katsuki cums after you, rope after rope of cum coating your fluttering walls.
You both stand there catching your breath. Katsuki pulls out and you whimper, “Oh don’t worry beautiful,” he picks you up again, walks over to a chair and sits down with you in his lap “not done with you yet.”
By the time you are spent both of you are exhausted and lost track of how many times either of you came. He helps you stand up, quickly pulling your panties back in place. “Don’t want you leakin.”
You giggle and pick up your clothes from the floor, he helps you get dressed and you both walk to the door. Making sure to check the air quality before leaving the lab you confirm that nothing is left in the air and unlock it. Before opening the door you turn to him opening your mouth to ask a question but he talks first.
“Let's go back to my room, yeah? I’ll help you clean up.” His voice rough from moaning and growling but you can see a small smile on his lips. Even though you know that the effects of the extract have worn off you can’t help but worry that he is still under their influence. Nodding your head you turn away from him again and open the door, walking into the lobby.
“I assume you're finished with the lab?”
You stop dead in your tracks, Katsuki bumping into you. “P-professor Aizawa?” Red hair peeks out behind him and Kirishima looks at you both with a nervous sharp toothed smile and red face. The fog of your memory clears and you vaguely remember hearing knocking on the window and door while you were… indisposed.
Katsuki steps in front of you, from the lack of red on his face or neck you know he isn’t nearly as mortified as you. “How long have you been standing there?”
The tired eyes of your teacher examine both of you. “Long enough.” He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are both to meet me in my office tomorrow morning.”
And just before you can’t get anymore embarrassed he walks out and says over his shoulder. “The labs aren’t sound proof, and these walls echo.”
@doinmybesthere @patchworkpuzzle @eyebagsbutglam @sugarspiceanddynamight
#bnharem collab#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bnha katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x y/n#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#bakugo x y/n#bakugo katuski x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x reader#bakugo mha#bakugo katsuki#bakugou x you#lilliths masterlist#lillith writes
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safe (with you)
s5 speculation based on the new bts because idk how to be normal about this
3,049 words
AO3 link
By the time they pull into Eddie’s driveway Buck’s hands still haven’t stopped shaking.
He vividly remembers that day he spent driving around Los Angeles with Abby, searching for her mom, the day they saved the little girl in the pool. He remembers the way he lined his hand up with hers and told her that the first couple of weeks on the job he couldn’t keep his hands from shaking with the adrenaline. But Abby was good at compartmentalizing; her hands never shook.
Buck still hasn’t learned how to do that with the people he cares about. He’s beginning to think he never will.
Eddie had been held hostage for under two hours and made it out unscathed, and yet Buck couldn’t get his fucking hands to stop shaking. He felt like a wire with the coating stripped off, ripped down the middle, frayed open, ready to spark and catch fire at any moment. But he’d been feeling like that a lot lately if he was being honest. Not that anyone asked.
And he didn’t expect anyone to because everyone else had their own problems and it was his job at the moment to just pull his shoulders back and keep it together. That was all he was supposed to do. He could do that.
“Uh, let me get your bag,” Buck mumbles as Eddie opens his side door to climb out. He switches the engine off and jumps out before he can see the glare Eddie shoots in his direction.
He still feels it anyway.
“I can get my own bag,” Eddie says, his tone flat. He feels too tired to argue but there’s an energy vibrating under his skin that he hasn’t been able to shake since they pulled up to the scene and he found himself staring down the barrel of someone else’s gun. It’s making him irritable and jumpy and all he wants to do is climb into bed and forget.
Buck doesn’t even grace him with a response, pulling both of their bags out of the back seat and slinging them over his shoulders, glancing once at Eddie before marching towards the front door.
“Nothing even happened to me, Buck,” Eddie calls after him, following on his heels. “I’m fine.”
Buck still doesn’t say anything as he pulls out his ring of keys and unlocks the front door. He slips off his shoes in the entryway and drops both of their bags by the couch. Eddie follows him into the kitchen.
“Buck - Buck, come on man you don’t have to take care of me I’m-“
“Stop telling me that you’re fine,” Buck growls suddenly, spinning around to face Eddie. “I am sick and tired of hearing it. You got shot, Eddie, okay? Five months ago you got shot and you started having panic attacks and you hid it from me.”
Eddie blinks at Buck for a second, shocked, before his brain kicks back on. Being around Buck is one of the easiest things for Eddie to do, but the moment Buck starts to care too much, when he starts to push - either with wide eyes full of nothing but love and care that make him want to crawl into himself and never come back out - or like this, with venom and anger that coat the underlying fear and worry, it becomes hard.
He defaults to anger. He wishes it wasn’t so easy but it’s the one thing he’s been prepared to do his whole life; fight.
“I wasn’t hiding it from you. I was managing it on my own.”
“You’re my partner.”
“Yeah, and it wasn’t about work,” Eddie stresses, feeling antsy. He turns away from Buck and takes a couple of steps around the corner. He needs to put some space between them. “It was personal, okay? And I dealt with it.”
“Right,” Buck said, voice dripping with the kind of bitterness that Eddie can feel creeping onto his own tongue. “Because you don’t panic anymore, right?”
Eddie’s eyes flick down. The familiar sensation of bile laced with the accusation of liar rises in his throat and he struggles to swallow it down. He still panics; he just didn’t think anyone noticed.
“I can handle it on my own,” Eddie says quietly.
“When are you going to realize that you don’t have to?” Buck pleads, leaning against the counter opposite Eddie. “When are you going to let me help you?”
“I don’t need help,” Eddie says, retreating back and looking anywhere but at Buck. God, he was just trapped at gunpoint for nearly two hours can he catch a fucking break? He feels like he can’t breathe.
“Eddie.”
“I’m fine.”
“Eddie, you got shot.” Buck is begging him to talk about it, screaming practically. And he’s been screaming for weeks, months, doing all but dropping to his knees in front of Eddie and begging him to open up and talk to him about it and Eddie gets it but ultimately. Ultimately.
Eddie wishes Buck would shut up.
You got shot, remember?
He wishes he could make him shut up. He wishes he could make Buck leave his apartment and get back into his jeep and drive to his own place and never fucking talk about any of this again. Because of course he remembers getting shot. He remembers all of it.
He remembers standing out in the middle of the street thinking about hopping into the ambulance with Charlie right before a bullet ripped through his one good shoulder. That’s four times now. He remembers hitting the hard cement and feeling the blood pool under his body, remembers the familiar sickly feeling that comes with the realization that you’re losing too much blood, before you start to lose your grip on the world around you. He remembers staring across the pavement at Buck and thinking it would be okay, because Buck was okay.
He remembers waking up in the hospital, drugged up and confused and searching for blue eyes and a blood-splattered face. He remembers waking up to Ana smiling down at him with watery eyes and he remembers the way she barely concealed her disappointment when he immediately asked for Buck - but he was passed caring at that point. He remembers the day he had to wait, slipping in and out of consciousness, Ana making occasional small talk, until he was finally cleared for more visitors, and Buck came rushing into the room like a vision of something holy, his face clean, his smile bright.
He remembers the moment Buck said he wished he had gotten shot instead and when Eddie slipped back into another drug-induced sleep the only words on his mind were no, not you. Never you.
He remembers sitting on the edge of the hospital bed with Buck, the distance between them too much and not enough at the same time. He remembers struggling to find the right words, fumbling to find his footing, feeling stripped bare as he told Buck that he loved him. But the words came out you act like you’re expendable, but you’re wrong instead.
He remembers never feeling so cracked open and vulnerable in his entire life and it was terrifying. So he did what he does best and he retreated into the shadows and licked his wounds in private and put himself back together as best he could so that the next time someone saw him they didn’t look at him as if he were about to break.
And maybe it was a shit job and he still felt like he was barely held together by string most days but he was doing fine. He was back at work and Christopher was still happy even without Ana around and he was making it work.
So he didn’t give a damn if Buck thought he wasn’t doing enough. He didn’t want to relive the shooting again, he had moved on. He was fine.
He was fine.
Or at least, he was fine up until 7 hours ago when they got a call to an office building that turned into a goddamn hostage situation and Eddie spent the better part of an hour with a gun to his head.
He was fine.
He was fine.
“Eddie, Eddie,” Buck’s voice is loud and sudden in his ear and Eddie startles, staring up at him. He blinks a couple of times before he realizes that he’s on the floor and that Buck’s kneeling over him.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Buck’s saying over and over again. “I shouldn’t have pushed you, fuck, I’m sorry.”
Fuck. Another panic attack.
Maybe he can’t pretend that he’s fine anymore.
“Buck,” Eddie says. Buck’s eyes fly to his and Eddie feels the bile rise again when he realizes Buck is crying.
This isn’t the first time tonight that Buck has cried. Over him.
“I’m so sorry, Eds,” Buck says again, his voice worn, and Eddie remembers him screaming. For him. “I just almost lost you again and I’m so fucking sick of it. I can’t keep doing this.”
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says because he doesn’t know what else to say.
Buck stares at him for a second, eyes wild, before he squeezes them shut and stretches his legs out in front of him, settling down on the floor across from Eddie.
It’s dark in Eddie’s apartment, the only light spilling in from the entryway, cloaking the two of them in warm dim light.
Eddie always found it easier being honest in the dark.
“I’m scared too,” He admits quietly. Buck’s eyes look too blue in the dark.
“I know. I’m sorry I’ve been so pushy. I just…I never wanted to make what happened about me…but I can see you struggling and it’s like - the only thing I know how to do is push. I can see it eating away at you.”
“I want to forget it ever happened,” Eddie says quickly, honestly.
Buck licks his lips. Nervous. “I get that. But…ignoring it doesn’t mean it never happened, you know?”
“It just…feels easier.”
“It’s killing you, Eddie.”
I was never meant to live this long anyway, is on the tip of Eddie’s tongue - but that’s too dark. Too much. Too honest. He shoves it back down.
One day something’s going to take him. Maybe it’ll be a bullet, maybe it won’t. Maybe it’ll be the crushing guilt he’s carried ever since he was a kid, too young to learn what that kind of guilt felt like.
“At least Chris will be taken care of if it does,” He says before he can stop himself, before he can remind himself that that’s something he shouldn’t say out loud. The pained look on Buck’s face feels like a slap in the face.
“What about you?” Buck grinds out, voice still hoarse. “Who the fuck is gonna take care of you - now?”
Eddie shrugs, “I can take care of myself.”
“Bullshit,” Buck snaps. “Full offense but I’ve seen the way you care for yourself.”
“It’s what I do, Buck,” Eddie says, leaning his head back against the cabinets and squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s - I can handle myself. I can’t…do this to anyone else. It was too much for Shannon - hell, even as a kid I was too much for my parents. I can’t.”
“Let me take care of you,” Buck says quickly and earnestly and the words shoot straight through Eddie’s heart. He couldn’t.
“No,” Eddie starts, sitting up straighter.
“Eddie, I can’t lose you,” Buck says with enough conviction to shut Eddie up for a second.
Because some part of Eddie has always been aware of the lengths to which Buck would crawl through fire and rain for him - because that’s who Buck is. Buck is the guy who puts everyone else before him, who will always put his life on the line first. Not because he wants to be the hero - but because he never thinks his own life is important enough to stop and consider the consequences.
Or at least, that’s what Eddie thought. But Eddie’s seen him hesitate more lately. He’s seen him pull back, actually listen to Bobby. And Eddie thought it was the will that was holding him back. And that was almost enough to soothe the constant ache in his chest.
But then Eddie got taken hostage. And it was like they were on that street again. And Eddie watched the fear strike Buck like a bolt of lightning, lighting him up from head to toe, nervous electricity in his veins. He saw the raw determination in his eyes, the devotion and instinct at war with responsibility and promise.
For a second, among the buzz at the base of his skull and the shrill ambiance of police cars, swat, and the ambulance, it hit Eddie. It wasn’t Buck being Buck. It was Eddie. It was Eddie that turned off every switch in Buck’s brain but his inherent instincts. It was Eddie in danger that broke him.
Eddie had never seen it before. And he’s been trying his damned best to shove it in the box labeled DO NOT TOUCH along with all of the other shit he’s been ignoring for the last five months.
It seems like it’s all coming out tonight.
Buck continues, “I don’t. I don’t want to do this without you. I can’t. Five months ago you sat with me in the hospital and - everyone always tells me that I’m reckless, you know? Or that I’m dumb or that I don’t think or that I want to be some hero. But you…you didn’t say any of that. And - and you made me feel like I was important. Like my life…was important. Is important. And I needed that, Eddie. So bad.
“Let me do the same thing for you,” Buck’s on the edge of begging again. “What do I have to do for you to realize that you’re important? That I need you? Because I do. God, Eddie, I need you…”
Eddie stares at him, wide-eyed and frozen in place. He’s never been loved like this before, has he?
Because that’s what this is. There’s no denying it anymore. That’s what Buck and Eddie do. They love each other. With some sort of deep-running unbreakable devotion that wraps around them constantly and pulls them closer and closer together.
That’s what Eddie’s been fighting all these months. The closeness.
Because it was easy before - to keep getting closer to Buck because it was safe, it meant they cared about each other, it meant that Buck would do his best to get Eddie home to his son and if all else failed Chris would have someone who loved him, who would look after him. That was good. That was safe.
But when the shooting happened and I have your back turned into I can’t live without you and Eddie realized that what he thought was a contingency plan that he had been slowly and methodically setting up was actually a living breathing family that they’d built - and all of a sudden the only way he ever wanted to live his life was with Buck and Christopher safely by his side - it wasn’t safe anymore. It was dangerous.
Eddie had been fighting so hard to keep Buck at arm's length so he could protect this system that he had come to rely on. Because now when he looked at Buck all he could see was the love and devotion reflecting back at Eddie. And that was terrifying.
Because Eddie had opened himself up to being loved before. And that ended in years of separation, divorce, and ultimately Shannon’s death. Maybe Eddie didn’t believe in signs - or maybe he just wanted to keep pretending the signs weren’t there. Because he was fairly certain that if the universe did send signs then Shannon’s death was the ultimate sign of them all, a symbol of what Eddie did to people.
He didn’t want to let Buck love him because he didn’t want to risk losing Buck.
But he is risking losing Buck the more he pushes him away…he’s risking breaking Buck. And ultimately he’s risking breaking himself. Because he can’t do this without Buck either.
“I need you too,” Eddie says, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to - I’m sorry. I’m just - I’m scared, Buck. I’m so scared.”
He’s crying. It’s like a dam broke loose with the quiet admittance and now it’s all coming out. He’s scared. He’s frightened. He’s terrified. He’s in love.
Buck’s crowding into his space, shoving himself up onto his knees between Eddie’s legs and crushing their bodies together, his long arms wrapping around Eddie and pulling him into his chest, tucking his head under Buck’s chin until he feels safe, protected, in Buck’s arms.
“I’ve got you,” Buck whispers into Eddie’s hair. Just a couple of hours ago they were in this same position, on the grass outside the office building, just after Eddie was released and SWAT rolled in. Eddie thinks that the safest place on earth might be right here in Buck’s arms.
“I can’t lose you either,” Eddie croaks, hands clawing at Buck’s back. “I can’t.”
“You won’t,” Buck says with the stubborn confidence that’s inherent to Buck. And Eddie believes him, he does. “Whatever you need, I’ve got you, okay?”
“I need you.”
“You’ve got me. You always have, Eddie,” Buck whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head.
I love you is what he wants to say. He wants to say it every day; when Buck walks into the locker room and greets Eddie with a private smile like it’s not 6 am and he’d rather be anywhere else, when he bumps Eddie’s shoulder as they walk to the truck, when he pulls his helmet off after a tough call and holds eye contact with Eddie just long enough to communicate are you good?
Maybe he can’t say it just yet.
Maybe this isn’t the right time or place.
But he thinks Buck knows. And he thinks - no he knows, Buck feels the same.
Maybe one day they’ll get there.
But tonight it’s enough to just hold each other, to feel the solid, warm reminder that they’re alive.
It’s enough, for now, to just be together.
#all i do now is write speculation#911 spoilers#my fic#if this is all over the place it's bc i was all over the place while trying to write it all day yesterday#if it's riddled with errors no it's not <3#my other wip that i was almost done with before this consumed me: am i a joke to you?#google doc titled: oh boy
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You Cheeky Slink
Bucky comes to you in the night to tell you about his latest google dive and maybe something more. Bucky x reader fluff. 1508 words. This is highkey self indulgent so get ready to read the fantasy thats been living in my head lately. Thanks :))
“Doll?”
Bucky stands at my door with just his head stuck into my room.
“Bucky, what are you doing? Where’s your shirt? You’re going to catch a cold wandering around with no clothes on,” I mumble from my pillow and plushie covered bed.
He smirks. He always does that smirk when he’s about to give some smartass response. That stupid lopsided smirk with he petal pink lips surrounded by the beard he’s been growing out. It’s kinda gangly but in a good way.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to come in then, so I don’t catch a cold in this freezing hallway. You know, you don't actually catch colds from being co-”
You had to stop the groan from falling past your lips. “Buck, love you and all, but now isn't the time to drop some of your newly found knowledge on me. It's...what time is it? Bucky, it is past midnight. Please tell me why you’re in my room at 12:38 a.m. talking about colds.”
Peter and I have been teaching Bucky how to use the internet and his phone, and We introduced him to Google a few days ago. Ever since then, he’s been catching himself up on most of what has happened in the last 70s years. It’s really heartwarming to see his interest in aerial technology and space exploration. We’re all glad that Bucky is adjusting well, but he’s been bombarding us all with random knowledge he’s found on the internet.
“Well, in all fairness, you were the one that invited me in, angel. I’m just doing what you said.” The smirk again. It’s too dark now that he's standing in my dark room, but I know the smirk. It bleeds into his voice. It makes him sound more...confident. Or cocky. “But dollface, we’ve explored more of space than we have the ocean. We don’t know what all is living in the deep parts of our ocean, but we know that you’ll get spaghettified if you go into a black hole. Some people think black holes are portals and some think they’re dying stars.”
“Wait, what? Buck, where are you getting your info?”
“Google, of course. Can I sit?”
“Sure.” The heavy weight of a giant man and his absurdly heavy metal arm rests on the corner of my bed. He almost seems hesitant to sit. I can immediately feel his warmth through the blanket. Despite me keeping my area freezing, Bucky always stays warm. “But Bucky, you went to a site to read these things. You used google but from there, what did you do?”
I can hear the wheels turning in his head. “Uh...the interesting looking ones?”
“You can’t believe everything you read on the internet, Buck. Anyone can put whatever they want out there. When you’re doing this research you’ve got to use reliable sources.”
“Reliable sources? Can I lean against the wall and stretch my legs?”
“Sure. Friday will help you with that, but Peter and I, and even Dr. Banner could help explain that to you in more detail tomorrow at a reasonable hour.”
Bucky shuffles his way across my bed to rest against the wall. He’s cautious of my legs as he makes his journey. It’s almost like he goes into assassin mode. Even though I know he’s moving, he tries his best not to disturb me.
“Well, did you know the footstep on the moon will likely stay there for at least 100 million years? There’s no wind on the moon, so it can’t be blown away. And did you know space is completely silent? There’s no air, so the sound waves have nothing to travel through so no sound.”
Bucky carries on with his space talk. Not long after we became friends, he shared that as a child he was interested in planes. He wanted to be a pilot growing up. That quickly became an awkward conversation. Now, Bucky is learning to fly with Sam, but once he learned our travels expanded into space, his dreams were out of this world. Bucky would start his google dives asking about some random thing, but without a doubt, he would end up on space exploration. Peter and I want to see how he’d do in a Wikipedia race. Peter thinks he would be amazing at it, but I know he’d get carried away and go down his own rabbit hole.
“Doll, Neptune has storms big enough to swallow the entire Earth! Can I get under the blankets?”
I hummed my approval and rolled over. Bucky’s voice is deep and raspy, and something about it can lull me to sleep. Usually I can’t sleep with any noise but Bucky is different. He could probably do audiobooks. Steve’s school videos and Bucky’s audiobooks. That’s quite a pair.
Bucky carries on with his space dump until I ask him. “Bucky, Russia got a satellite in space first. Sputnik. Would you have had anything to do about it? Idk. That might be a rough question but…”
He thinks, and he thinks hard. I can imagine his brows would come together, and he would bite at the right side of his lower lip. His Neptune blue eyes would move like he’s reading words off an invisible piece of paper laid before him. He would usually run his fingers through his hair, but Sam mentioned hair loss and that made Buck a little self conscious. I told him not to worry, but I’ll catch him catching himself.
“I’m not sure, angel. I don’t remember anything being about space, but maybe i just didn’t know it was about the space race. That is bizarre though. I was around when we made it to the moon, but I wasn’t. Can I get under the blankets?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Buck starts to talk again as he pulls the blankets over himself. He worms his legs undermine. “Bucky, get your popsicle legs off me. Go put those things on Steve.”
He lets out a small laugh before he continues his ted talk of everything. Bucky has been taken with space, but he’s interested in cooking too. He loves to sit and watch The Great British Bake-Off or MasterChef or Top Chef. It was quite sweet and funny when he tried to recreate one of the meat pies from season two of TGBBO. He was so confident, and his bottom was so soggy.
“We should grow a fruit salad tree. We’ve got to do something to a fruit tree, but we’d be able to make it grow up to 6 fruits! You could have peaches, Steve gets apples, Sam gets...I don’t know, and I get plums. We’d have to think of something for Pete. But imagine it, a huge fruit salad tree orchard behind the compound!”
“If it’s an orchard, why don’t we just plant a whole bunch of different trees?”
“Bragging rights. Can I lean on these pillows? I’m just gonna lean here.”
“Sure Buckbeak.”
“Hmph. Us having a fruit salad tree would be like the animals in Harry Potter.”
“Yeah?”
Bucky carries on, but his closeness and warmth are enough to lull me to sleep.
I woke up not too much later. Bucky has slowly made his way to fully laying between me and my pillow mountain. He’s pulled me in close to him and nuzzles his face into my neck. He somehow got his arms fully around me with my noticing. Our legs are intertwined, and thankfully, Bucky’s feet have warmed up. I can hear his heart beat in this position. Despite the torture and darkness he’s witness, his heart still beats like a young bird’s wings. His body and mind is old, but his heart is young. A young man from the 40s thrust into the 21st century. It is a cruel fate, but I know Bucky is strong enough to carry this burden. A heart is a heavy burden to carry.
I wake with the sun; a curious beam has made its way directly into my eyes. I go to grab a pillow to cover my face, but I seem to be in the death grip of a certain super soldier. I’m able to shimmy my way around to look at him. He looks at peace. Bucky always carries his anxieties and burdens, but in this moment, he looks youthful. He isn’t a super soldier who lost himself for 70 years. He isn’t a man who is widely hated and has to redeem himself. He isn’t a man with blood on his hands. He’s just Bucky; a great guy that will hold you when you cry or share a big bellied laugh with you.
“See something you like, dollface?”
“You slithered your slinky way into my bed.”
“No, no, no. You invited me in, so I wouldn't catch a cold. I just made myself not cold.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. You were obviously the best solution, cuddle bug. Your heart is so full of love and compassion that it’s gone hot.”
“You’re a big sap.”
“Only for my best girl.”
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#fatws bucky#bucky fic#bucky x you#bucky imagine#marvel#sebastian stan#fluff#fanfic#bucky barns fanfiction
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Surprise, love -Duff Mckagan-
Title: Surprise, Love.
Warnings: explicit content.
Summary: I don’t use to do summary of my stories, y’all is gonna love it anyway; enjoy.
Dirty reading~
Duff Mckagan is the last person I expect to see on my doorstep, wet from the San Francisco mist, a faded green duffle bag at his feet.
Even years removed my heart still clutches at the sight of his hair, the boyish grin on his face. The smile doesn’t reach his eyes the way it used to, but I’m not able to catch much more of him before he’s pulling me into a bear hug and lifting me off the ground.
To put you all in context, Duff was my best friend ... and the best boyfriend someone could ever had, for most of my life, he was my neighbour when we were just born, little kids, getting to know each other from there and living a whole life together; I watched from when his first tooth fell out to when he had to take his first flight to go with the band to San Francisco, the place where I currently live now.
It surprises me, and it shocks me to see him, so changed after so many years, so many years without looking him in the eye, without knowing anything about him; today he is finally here, standing in front of me.
Trying not to break down in tears the emotions hit my being in a wave; remembering the day he left me at the airport and then never see him again; exactly in 1991, after his great "Use your illusion." I never heard from him again.
“Babe,” he breathes, I press my face into his neck, a laugh bubbling up out of my throat, “I missed you.”
“Yeah,” I manage.
I can feel my eyes pricking because I have missed him, too much. We’ve kept up as much as we could over the years, but with him overseas and my steadily making my way around the country, it had gotten difficult. I haven’t heard from him in a few months, and I haven’t seen him in a few years – probably eight, if I think about it. Instead of thinking about it, though, I wrap my arms tight around him and try not to let myself cry at the feeling of him engulfing me.
“I missed you too, Duff.”
I get him up to my apartment and let him settle onto my couch before I ask him any questions, mainly because I can’t quite find my voice and I can’t believe Duff is in my apartment, right now. He beats me to the punch, settling back into my couch and peeking over at me in the kitchen.
“This place is really nice.”
I nod, filling a glass up with water for him and then looking up at him, a smile on my lips.
“It’s alright,” I shrug, shutting off the tap and making my way over to the couch, handing it to him before I sit down, one leg tucked beneath me. “I got lucky.”
Duff sips the water and looks around, shaking his head. My apartment is nice – it’s got floor to ceiling windows and sleek, modern appliances and a killer view of the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Not luck,” he shrugs. “You deserve it, you worked your ass off for this place.”
I swallow, smiling over at him and feeling my cheeks flush – in part, because he’s right, and in part, because he’s wrong.
“Duff,” I laugh my voice soft. I tuck some hair behind my ear and looks up at him. “How’d you find me?”
Duff shrugs, setting the water glass down on my coffee table and turning to face me, leaning his arm over the back of my couch.
“I went home, first...talked to your mom, she gave me your address for if I ever wound up out west. Figured,” he shrugs, laughing, “It’d be more of a surprise if I didn’t tell her I already knew I was coming out this way.”
I shake my head, pressing my fingertips to my face.
“Oh god… I cannot believe my mum did that after all the things I told her, honestly.” I sigh, dropping my hand and raising my brow. “So, she didn’t know you were coming out here...but you did?”
Duff nods.
“Yes, I did… I’ve gotta come back to the hotel in a couple of hours… We’re flying to Europe, we’re gonna start a new tour I guess, we don’t really know, but I figured I could make a stop before I check into my hotel.” I swallow, watching his fingers flex against the couch cushion.
“Another tour?” I raise my brows. “You’ve been on tour the last eight years.”
“That’s what happens when you’re a famous rockstar babe, you never stop….” he laughs, his voice low. “I’m thinking I’ll be out here a bit, actually, trying to convince the boys to stop a little, I want to see you more often.” I try not to let my reaction show on my face, but this is Duff, so I know I’m not exactly subtle.
I chew on the inside of my cheek as I think about it, about Duff, just half an hour away instead of across the world.
“Wow,” I breathe, smiling over at him. “I’d get to see you, then?”
“If you want to,” Duff shrugs, and I roll my eyes at him, reaching over and swatting at his arm.
We cover the basics with his hand on my knee: I moved to San Francisco alone, I work for a newspaper, and I’m a runner now. He’s been back on tour and he’s not going to go so far away again, and he’s thinking about stop touring a little bit.
Wow.
I slide my hand over his and look down at it, brushing my thumb against the back and humming softly as I look up at him, a smile on my lips.
“So you’re telling me,” I say, my voice soft, “you’re a big enough deal the boys to stop touring, what they’re supposed to be doing?”
Duff rolls his eyes, glancing down to our hands and then back up to mine, his gaze soft. I try to focus on anything other than the look in his eyes and settles on his mouth, chewing on the inside of my cheek, because I know it’s a mistake immediately. Bad things tend to happen when I look at Duff Mckagan’ mouth.
“I’m telling you I could do it,” he shrugs, and I watch intently as he runs his tongue over his lower lip, his fingers pressing lightly against my leg. “We’ll find out, I guess; Steven’ planning to go to rehab…” He probably saw my intrigued face, so he immediately keeps talking. “I’ll tell you in a bit about it.” He smiles at me and I nod. “Slash has two little annoying but cute kids… so he’s gonna be busy with that, and Izzy… Well Izzy fucking left the damn band, so there’s no problem with him.”
I nod, feeling my lips shift into a soft smile, Wow, it’s surprising how everything changed since the last time I saw him, every one of them were idk… almost 30 years old, playing and joking around, being drunk and high as fuck, I never… I mean, we never thought that the band was gonna become this famous.
“Well,” I say, “I’m happy for you, Duff. You’re all grown up.”
Duff laughs, pulling his hand from my leg and rubbing his hand over his jaw slowly, swallowing.
“We’re both grown up, honey,” he chuckles, and I let myself meet his gaze. I stuck in a slow breath, feeling how heavy his eyes are on mine, letting the feeling wash over me easily. “Easy to see that, right?”
I nod and sit up a bit, settling my hand on Duff’s forearm, brushing my thumb slowly against his skin.
“Easy,” I say my voice barely above a whisper. “Too easy.” I don’t know why sitting here with him like this makes me feel like I could cry.
I squeeze my eyes shut, sighing out a slow breath and tightening my grip on his arm.
“I really missed you. I know we,” I shake my head, “I know we covered that, kind of, but...god, Duff.” I swallow, heavy, keeping my eyes shut so I don’t have to look at him as the words tumble out of my mouth, “I really didn’t know if I would ever see you again, you know? No matter how safe you told me you were, you almost had a fucking overdose… too much alcohol, too much shit.”
Duff doesn’t say anything, but I feel him shifting on the sofa. I feel him scooting closer to me. His breath wisps over my skin, and I feel like I might be shaking. I should stop him – I knows I should, I knows it’s the right thing to do with all of us history, all of the feelings that stretch out between us – but there’s an ache in my chest that I don’t think will let me. I squeeze his forearm, holding onto it with my fingers and hear myself let out a soft noise as his nose touches mine.
“Babe,” he murmurs, and I nod, my eyes still squeezed shut. “I’m good; you don’t have to worry anymore.”
“I know,” I breathe out, and I slide my hand off his arm and slip my fingers into his hair. I pulling him towards me, kissing him in the way I had imagined doing for years, for a lifetime, even. I’d never kissed him like this, so tender and slow, so intentional, so full. I whine into it, feeling tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
It feels like my heart is whole, even for just a moment.
Duff’s always been the boy I turned to when I was hurting, always been the person who knew me the best, who could make me feel good. This, though, is different – this kiss isn’t sweet, childhood tenderness, its gut wrenching in the most wonderful way. My stomach twists into a knot and then settles as his arm wraps around my waist, my ears rush harshly as his tongue moves against mine, my heart pounds in my chest as I feel both of our cheeks, touch against each other.
This is Duff, the man, safe in his arms, telling me he’s here, telling me I’m his. He hasn’t said it, but I can tell...I can tell from the way he’s kissing me that this was him, standing on her doorstep, asking me to let him in and keep him.
For tonight, at least, I can do that.
I crawl into his lap and press my fingers into his hair, my thumbs dragging along his face, my breathing ragged against his skin.
“Duff,” I whisper, brushing my lips against his, “I have a bed.”
Duff’s breathing is possibly more laboured than my own as he slips his hand beneath the back of my t-shirt, his fingertips pressing lightly into my skin.
“I assumed,” he mumbles, his mouth praying for mine, “This is a big apartment.”
I nod in a smile, grinning against his lips;
“Want to,” I tip my face down, my forehead pressed to his as I move slowly in his lap, my lips just out of his reach, “take a look at it?”
Duff lets out a low laugh, nodding and mumbling,
“Smooth,” against my mouth as he keeps his arm locked around my waist. He stands up, lifting me with him, I wrap my legs around him as he settles me in his grip.
I direct him to the bedroom, settling my feet down on the ground and swallowing as my eyes fall on a picture frame settled on my nightstand.
“Shirt,” I breathe, looking at Duff, who’s sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at me with a dazed smile on his lips, “shirt off, rockstar.” He lets out a low laugh, and I takes a moment to flip the picture frame face down while his shirt is obstructing his view, then tugs at the hem of my own shirt before taking a step forward, pulling it off as I stations myself between his legs.
I settle my hands on his bare shoulders, dragging my hands down along his skin slowly, then moving it back up and cupping his face in my hands. I slide my thumb over his lower lip and hiccups, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“God,” I whisper, letting my eyes move over his face, taking him in. I’d never felt so full before. My vision blurs as I watch him, feels his hands settle over my waist.
He had changed, years without seeing him… without feeling him, I missed his touch, his kisses, I missed him so bad.
“Honey,” he says, and his voice has that lilt to it – the what are you crying for lilt, and I don’t have an answer. I bit down on my lower lip, shaking my head and trying to stop myself. His hand reaches up to my cheek and I lean into his touch, feeling my tears seep onto his skin.
I want to tell him...about the photo, about the man in the photo, about the way their timing is truly, continually, terrible. Instead, I lean my face down and kiss his palm, swallowing hard as I hear his own breath going wet.
“Come here,” he says, his voice thick, low.
I don’t need him to say it twice. I crawl into his lap and he shifts them back onto the bed, his hands moving shakily along my skin.
He flips them and undresses me carefully, his eyes moving over every new part of me as it becomes exposed. He unhooks my bra and pulls it slowly down my arms, unbuttons and unzips my jeans and tugs them over my hips, hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and tugs at them, slowly, his lips pressing to my stomach as he does, the gasp tearing from my throat involuntary, I swear.
Something in my brain tugs, that I should be embarrassed, being so naked in front of this man who’s known me for my entire life, but no. I can’t be, with the way he’s looking at me, with the adoration and want in his eyes. I let my hands slide along his arms, breathing slowly as he looks at me, takes me in, and then I settle my fingers against his belt buckle.
“I can’t be the only one naked here, baby,” I say, my voice soft, and the smile on his lips is so soft that I feel my cheeks flush.
I unbuckle his belt shakily, watching as he gets himself out of his pants, pushes off his boxers. I bites on my lower lip at the sight of him, half-hard for me, then drags my eyes up to his face, smiling at the way his cheeks are flushed. I sit up a little, wrapping my hand around him gently, dragging my fingertips lightly along his length and shutting my eyes, leaning my forehead against his chest because I don’t think I can take the look on his face, the pure emotion rippling through him.
“Fuck,” he bites out, and his hand slides to the back of her neck, his thumb dragging along the base of it slowly. His voice is shaky when he says my name, and I twist my wrist slowly, smiling as I feel him growing harder in my hand.
Yes, honey, I know you like this.
He shifts my back on the bed, pressing my legs apart so he can settle between them and leaning down to kiss me, drawing his tongue slowly over my lower lip as his thumb drags over my inner thigh. The mixture of sensations has me shaking, already, and he hasn’t even touched me where I want him to yet.
He’s gentle with me, at first. His fingers press lightly against my wet folds, testing the waters, working slowly as I breathe out heavy sighs to keep myself calm.
He’s driving me crazy.
His lips press over my collarbone lightly, dragging against my skin slowly as he dips a finger into me, then another. He hums against the hollow of my neck as his thumb circles my clit lightly, and I feel my hips lifting off the bed to find more of him, knowing he isn’t giving it to me yet.
“Oh god-” I groaned.
I come apart on his fingers, shakily, one of my hands gripped tightly into his hair. His mouth is on my neck and I whine, searching for his face.
“I need you.” I breathe, and he lifts his head slowly, grazing his lips over mine.
“You keep driving me crazy as the first day we met.” he murmurs.
I stop him, slipping my tongue into his mouth. I can’t hear him, like this, not right now. I need him to fuck me, need him, before I get too rational and stop him entirely.
This is too much, I can feel it – I’m going to break the both of us, but I can’t possibly end it before I feel him, before I know what it’s like to have him inside me, again.
“Duff,” I moaned against his mouth, lifting my hips and hooking a leg around his waist, trying to pull him closer. “I need you.”
He nods, slow, just once, and I love him for it. I love that he isn’t trying to tease this out, that he’s listening to me, that we both want this so badly that dragging it along isn’t appealing at all. I slide my hands up to his face, holding it and keeping my eyes on him, my heart still hammering. He locks eyes with me as I feel his tip pressing at my entrance, and I suck in a hard breath, watching his face.
He cracks the softest smile, and I feel my resolve breaking.
“Duff,” I breathe, my voice full, my eyes stinging, “please.”
I want him in a way I can’t understand – it’s something about the way he knows me, I think, absently, as his eyes trail over my face, down my body.
It’s about the way he held my hand when I fell off the jungle gym and broke my arm when we were six, it’s about the way he shoved an old friend of mine for calling me a bitch when we were eleven, it’s about the desperate way he kissed me back in her car when we were sixteen, it’s about the way he made me and makes me feel right now. It’s about the fact that he’s the same Duff he’s always been, but something else altogether, too. The boy I’ve always known, and the man I’ve always wanted, hovering above me, about to make me his, even when I belong to someone else.
But I didn’t care.
One of his hands brushes my cheek, and I slide my own to press over his, to keep him there. I hold his gaze as he pushes into me, slow, filling me. I let out a soft laugh, turning my face into his hand and rolling my hips.
“Please,” I murmur against his skin, “I want to feel you, Duff.”
He’s slow, but not in a torturous way. His eyes stick on mine as he rocks his hips into mine, as the fingers of his free hand trail along my leg, over my hip, tracing little shapes. I feel him, all of him, and my legs tighten around his hips to keep him as close as I can. His strokes are long, deep, and I know neither of us is going to last long, regardless of the speed.
“As my queen commands.” Duff softly replied, smirking before kissing my lips deeply as he thrust deep inside me.
The sudden feeling of being filled with a cock as big as him made me cry out in pleasure breaking the kiss as my back arched, I felt his fingers holding my hips lightly, making the movements to go harder. His own groans of pleasure mixed with mine as they filled the room, he started to move slowly, taking his time as our lips re-joined together with our tongues dancing and warping round each other, as our hands roamed each other’s bodies just feeling blindly in a that need to be close.
I feel my walls constricted around him, he started to move faster and found that bundle of nerves that made me touch the sky with my hands, his moans made an echo in my ear, they were loud, he was really enjoying this, making me instantly lose all the control, all sense of who and where I was, right now it was just the two of us; the world outside didn't matter, the day ahead didn't matter everything I can focus on was in him and nothing was going to stop that.
“Oh shit babe, yes.- ” I moaned. “Keep doing that oh god-” I wrapped his curlers in my fingers holding him, his thrusts collided with my body causing a lack of control in all my senses, damn I had missed this.
His movements were wild and erratic but so perfect precise, he knew all the right buttons to press. I open my eyes again to see him above me, his face the clear picture of pleasure and need, I never had seen anyone become so desperate and undone for me. A man like him with such talent showing a side of himself only to me that so few ever got to see, but in truth he would only ever truly become this undone and this vulnerable for me.
My hands slid down from his hair, trailing down his back across his slightly sweating skin as they found that perfect ass of his. His lips moving to my neck again as tears of happiness, love and pleasure fell.
“Oh my sweet babe.” Duff moaned shakily as he continued thrust deep into me, all I could do was cry out with pleasure and need.
“Oh Duff I love you.” I gasp thrusting up to meet his own movement's.
He’s nothing like I’ve ever felt, before – there’s something about the presence of him, of his body over mine, of his eyes watching me, his breath mixing with my own.
“Babe,” he breathes, his face tipping down, his lips finding mine. I sat up a bit, my hips shifting to meet his, to hit at a new angle. I weave my fingers into his curly hair and grips onto it as I kiss him, our tongues pressed together as I feel the heat pooling in my stomach, knows I’m closer than I’d even like to admit.
His hand moves from my leg to dip between them, pressing against my clit slowly, tracing over my nerves delicately before finding a pattern. I can tell he’s close, too, his breathing getting heavier, his thrusts more erratic.
“C’mon babe” I murmur against his mouth, “I want to feel you, Duff, I want to know what you feel about me.” my words fade into a whine as I feel him pressing more firmly to my clit, rolling it between his fingers.
I come hard, around him, feeling him spill into me moments later, our moans mixing together as he presses me down into the mattress.
“Oh damn.” He moans loudly in my ear.
We lay still, for a long while. I scratch sleepily at the back of his neck, Duff start kissing my neck softly as we cling to each other, trying to calm down. He pulls out of me slowly, smiling to himself as I groan at the loss, and I hum as he lays back down, still pressing his weight down against me.
“You’re not allowed to go anywhere,” I whisper, my lips pressed against the side of his head, “until I say so.”
Duff nods. “Got it, you’re in charge,” he murmurs, “so nothing’s really changed, huh?”
I laugh, but I feel the pang in my chest, knowing the truth – because yes, almost everything really has changed, and he doesn’t even know the half of it.
I must fall asleep, because when I woke up it’s dark outside and I hear him moving around...somehow, I just knew in that moment that he knows, now. I sit up slowly, pulling the sheets to my chest and pressing my hand over her face.
“Duff?”
He pokes his head out of the bathroom and smiles at me softly. When he steps through the door, he’s got his boxers on, and I feel my heart clench in my chest.
“What’s his name, babe?” He sits on the edge of the bed and pull my hand from my face, lacing his fingers with mines. “He’s got some nice pomades, in there...expensive.”
“Duff,” my voice is hollow, I look up at him with pleading eyes. “I can explain all of this, okay?”
He nods, brushing his thumb over mine.
“I know,” he swallows, his voice thick. “What’s his name?”
I sigh out a breath and casts my eyes upwards, trying not to cry.
“Daniel…” I answer, quietly. “We’ve been...I moved in a few months ago, but it’s been a little over a year.”
I don’t let myself close my eyes, making myself look at him as he swallows, processing my words and looking around the room.
“You love him?”
“Duff,” I don’t know how to answer that question, not right now.
He’s been away for a while, and came here making me feel lost and complete at the same time, now I don’t even know where or who I am.
“Does he make you happy, hun? That’s,” he lets out a soft, wet laugh, “that’s really...what I’m asking you.” I nod, looking down at our hands. “Good.”
“I didn’t,” I croak, and I hate myself for it. “I didn’t know when you...if you,” I shake my head. “I didn’t know, Duff. I didn’t know if I...if–,”
“I didn’t want you waiting for me,” he supplies, shaking his head and looking at me, straight on. “I’m glad you didn’t, I... I slept with a lots of girls too… I can’t blame you for this.”
I feel desperate, scoots myself closer to him and settles a hand on his cheek.
“I’m not,” I breathe, wanting to press my face to his and hesitating. “You’re here, now, Duff.”
Duff nods, and bridges the gap. He presses his forehead against mine, finding my eyes.
“I’m not leaving,” he says, his voice low. “I told you,” he swallows, “I’m not gonna go away without you next time. If I convince the boys…damn.”
I nod.
“And I’ll be here,” I murmur. “But someone else is gonna be here with me…”
He shuts his eyes, squeezing my hand.
“For now,” he shrugs, “and maybe for good, but,” he opens his eyes and looks at me, fully.
My feels tear pooling in my eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere. I...I believe in this, babe. I wouldn't be here if I didn’t.”
I take a long breath, nodding slowly. I realize he doesn’t mean here, my apartment – he means here, in San Francisco...that he wouldn’t be considering this job if it wasn’t for me. I understand his meaning, here: I’m in charge.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and he shakes his head, but I stop him. “No, I should’ve told you.”
“His shoes were by the door, babe, I saw them.” he says, his voice soft. “I’m not an idiot.”
I feel something break in me, and I find Duff’s mouth, kissing him softly.
“God,” I laugh, my voice low, my lips pressed to his, “we really can’t get it right, huh?”
Duff kisses me, soft and slow, his tongue tracing my lip before he pulls away. He stands up from the bed and I watch, my eyes wide and soft as he moves around, grabbing his clothes and pulling them on.
“To be determined,” he decides, as he’s buckling his belt.
I chew on my cheek, getting out of bed and finding my robe. I wrap it around me and follows him out into the living room, watching as he grabs his duffel bag.
“You can stay,” I say, my voice hoarse, and he looks over his shoulder at me, shaking his head.
“I won’t leave,” he swallows, and I shut my eyes for a moment at his words. I nod.
“Okay,” I whisper. “So when will I see you?”
Duff sighs out a breath as he pulls the bag over his shoulder, then wraps his arm around my waist. He walks me over to the door before he pulls me against him, leaning his face down, kissing me softly.
“I’ll be here another week,” he says, his voice low, “and then...depending on things, I’ll be here for good. So,” he finds my eyes, “up to you, okay? You call me.”
I nod, my head spinning.
“Don’t disappear on me, okay?” I beg.
He shakes his head, softly, kissing me lightly.
“Promise, I won’t.” He replies.
I feel him pull his arms away, and I wrap my own around myself so I don’t do something stupid, like pull him back into my bedroom. I watch as he grabs the doorknob, opening the door and taking a step through it.
“Call me when you get to your hotel?”
He nods, leaning down and kissing me gently.
“I will,” he breathes against my mouth.
By the time I open my eyes, he’s gone. My phone buzzes on the kitchen island and my heart drops, but when I flip it over, it’s Duff.
‘Miss you already, you know that?’
I press it to my chest and shut my eyes, taking deep breaths – in part, to calm down, and in part, because I did.
#slash#80s#rock#gunsandroses#guns and roses#rockband#rocknroll#duff mckagan#axlrose#izzy stradlin#duff#mckagan#duff guns n roses#duff smut#duff gnr#duff mckagan gnr#imagine#oneshot#one shot#smut#gnr smut
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Not Enough - Oikawa (Haikyuu) x Reader x Gojo (JJK)
Summary: Your relationship with Oikawa feels more like a curse than anything else as it comes to a close. (~4.2k words) or tl;dr gojo is mr. steal your girl
Warnings: breakup, idk Gojo is a warning, cracky angst?, pegging mention, yandere themes
A/N: Ngl I’m patting myself on the back for making a crossover fic work somewhat LOLLLL, you can roll your eyes if you want this is hella melodramatic.
(if you wanna commission more niche things, you can always dm me <3)
---
“I-I think it’s best for us to end things here, Tooru...”
Oikawa’s fingers tightened around the cell phone in his hand at the sound of your shakily delivered proposition, and further at the abrupt pregnant pause thereafter - not because he was angry, nor afraid, but out of an all-encompassing confusion.
Two things were wrong with this situation. First of all, it was late enough for you, thousands of miles away, that he was genuinely surprised that you were still awake in the first place and the fact that your voice was thick with tears was particularly upsetting, implying that you’d been up all night before you decided to call. Second, you had to be feeling unwell because you were talking pure nonsense.
He must have not heard correctly. You wanted to ‘end things’?
End what? You and him? That couldn’t possibly happen.
Moments passed, maybe even a full minute, and Oikawa stood perfectly still in spite of the uncomfortable combination of a weightless sensation in his legs and a feverish pounding in his chest as he tried to let himself understand what you were saying. Suddenly lightheaded, he realized he had been holding his breath while you remained quiet on the other end of the line. Maybe he was hoping for you to fill the silence, but he knew you wouldn’t offer anything additional; he could tell from the single soft sniffle that betrayed your sadness.
He sucked air into his lungs.
“I... don’t know what you mean,” Oikawa replied, his voice steady even if his body wasn’t.
You continued.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s really hard… and I get so lonely, and I know it’s wrong, but sometimes it hurts to see you so happy without me…”
Your voice was smaller still, enough that he strained to hear you past the rush of blood past his temples. For a moment, he considered pretending he couldn’t hear you say such unpleasant things just so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the reality unfolding in front of him in this disdainfully sunny early afternoon, while he stood in the middle of the hallway right outside of his high rise apartment.
The fact that you had finally given up on him after all this time.
In a small way, Oikawa couldn’t blame you. While he had been gone chasing his dream, the emerging star had just as quickly been running further away from you day by day. He knew this was mostly his fault: he called you less frequently and whenever you did talk, the conversations were shorter and less substantial until you and he both felt like your interactions were a simple chore, a checkbox on his never-ending to-do list.
But yet, he could and would absolutely blame you. Long distance was hard but you had promised you’d stay by his side, hadn’t you? You’d promised him, rain or shine, through drought and storm. What could possibly be the issue now?
Even if you hurt, it would only be temporary, and he could always make up for it in full or even twice-fold. In fact, he was on his way to come see you in person this very second; it would just be mere hours before his flight would depart. Coming suddenly on holiday like this was meant to be a surprise, and his suitcase beside him was filled with gifts and souvenirs for you that would, at least partially, assuage your hurt.
At least he thought. Maybe the issue stemmed deeper, starting with the very fact that you weren’t such a fan of gifts - what you really craved was loyalty and quality time - and that too, he had chosen to ignore. Because it was easier to love you the way he wanted to love you, rather than the way you wanted to be loved.
You were often indecisive anyway. Did you ever truly know what you wanted?
“___, stop being silly. I love you -”, he paused at this last declaration for emphasis, gauging your reaction, of which you gave him none, then continued, “-and I’m coming to see you before the sun sets tomorrow,” he insisted, a stern edge in his voice to further supplant the denial that was keeping him able to breathe. Strength returning to his limbs, he resumed his path to the elevators, dragging his belongings behind him.
You were silly. You missed him and you were delirious from loneliness and sleep, and that’s why ridiculous things were coming out of your mouth, that’s all it had to be, he figured. End things? What you had was something precious and irreplaceable. Nothing could be better than what you were together.
It would be you and him for life, at least to him.
Unfortunately for you, that ideal had long since perished.
Any other time, you would have paused, your breath hitching in your throat, your heart pounding as you conjured up the image of your Tooru coming to be in your arms once more, to cross the vast distance and be yours again as it should be. He’d be quick to show you that he chose you over crowded gyms full of adoring spectators, a perfect set, the rush of victory, or a pretty Instagram model.
Any other time before, but time had run out with both you and him unsuspecting, in a flash of clear blue eyes.
---
A few months earlier...
“I’m not interested.”
Your voice was flat and so was your expression. Muttering a soft ‘excuse me’, you walked past the tall young man who had taken the fact that he’d helped you reach an item on the highest shelf (despite the fact that you were still somewhat tall, you still had struggled), as an invitation to follow you around the grocery store.
The stranger had started off indiscreetly at first, and you had to admit, when you’d passed him in the aisle, you had given him a double-take, and it wasn’t just because you were wondering how he could see the food before him with a black blindfold wrapped over his eyes, so you hadn’t thought too much of it. He was admittedly handsome - at least the lower part of his face was - and his relaxed voice and posture as he reached over and handed you your box of cereal reminded you just a smidge of your Tooru.
Your Tooru wouldn’t be caught in that nondescript dark ensemble, though.
Saying “thanks” and continuing on your merry way should have been enough. But instead, this same man had immediately started walking besides you as you pushed your cart as though he knew you, making comments about your groceries.
“I’m not particularly fond of eggs, but they’re a good source of protein.”
“You seem to have a sweet tooth, just like me!”
You probably should have been concerned about this man’s mental state, but he didn’t exactly seem harmful or delusional, just weird. But you were almost done with your shopping trip, and now he was in line with you with a single bag of chips in his hand, and it occurred to you for a while that this stranger might try to follow you home.
“Do you need something, sir?” You told him in exasperation.
He furrowed his eyebrows in mild confusion, still a smidge too close behind you and raised his bag of chips. “No, I’m fine.”
“Why are you following me?” You finally said, bolder than usual in this semi-crowded grocery store. You had had enough of being polite and you’d tried very hard so far. Today had been a long day and you just wanted to cook a meal and sleep, not argue with strangers.
“Oh, I was trying to be friendly,” he replied, shrugging, as though that were normal behavior, and thus here you were, switching lanes abruptly while making it clear to him that he needed to leave you the fuck alone.
Checking out of the store with your items occurred without incident but you had to admit you were both irritated and confused about that encounter, and again, while you didn’t exactly feel malicious intent or really any sort of ‘creepiness’ from the young man, the behavior was nevertheless alarming. You surreptitiously glanced over your shoulder just to make sure he wasn’t still in sight, only to catch him walking in the other direction, whistling again with the single bag of chips in his hand, now paid for.
Again stunned, you found yourself lost in a stare for a moment, a million questions in your head.
What was he trying to accomplish? And most importantly, how could he see with that blindfold?
What did he look like without it?
Quickly realizing your questions were getting absurd, you decided that whether he was attractive or not was a completely inconsequential thought, because the fact of the matter was that he had to be clinically insane. Absolutely.
With that thought in mind, you texted a friend briefly sparing the least salient details.
Call me in about thirty minutes if I don’t call you first. I’ll fill you in later.
Just for safety’s sake, but thankfully, you didn’t think you’d ever seen him again.
You may have brought up your odd encounter to Tooru that night, if he had managed to return your call.
---
“Go to sleep, I’ll talk to you when I land tomorrow. I love you, ____.”
Before you could protest, the line cut off abruptly and you lowered your phone to your lap. Now it was no longer just your voice wavering, but your entire body trembling as you sat over the side of your bed. You lurched forward, the pit of your stomach heavy with guilt.
Your Tooru was coming to see you and for once, he was the last person you wanted to see.
---
You had left your home a little later than usual but given that you would rather die than miss your morning coffee and croissant, you still stopped by your neighborhood bakery.
Noting that the line was a little longer than expected, you queued up, humming softly to the beats of your favorite song, not registering that the man standing before you had turned slowly in your direction and was now smiling down at you.
“Fancy seeing you here again.”
Your eyes furrowed as you looked up, then almost yelped in surprise when your eyes registered the same white-haired stranger who had stunned you at the supermarket lined up just two paces before you.
What the-
Of all the coffee shops in this city, why here? The hairs on your neck stood up on end, worse when he decided to keep speaking.
“Let me buy your coffee,” he proposed, tentatively. “Only condition is that you have to drink it with me.”
Today, the strangest of strangers almost looked normal; rather than a blindfold, his eyes were hidden by a dark pair of sunglasses and his hair had been allowed to fall into a slightly windswept cut. He was also dressed less eclectically, in a loose-necked long sleeved shirt and a pair of fitted dark jeans.
Like this, you could call him fashionable. He was definitely forward, at the very least.
He was obviously flirting and normally you would have a curt prepared answer for him, but the manner in which he leaned forward, smirking with hands on his hips, again felt too familiar. Like Tooru, who had forgotten to call you back and instead sent you a quick text that promised he’d get back to you.
If he remembered.
Before you knew it, and almost embarrassed as soon as it left your mouth, you blurted out, “I… have to go to work.”
It wasn’t a lie but for some reason it came out like one. Perhaps because what you would have normally said was, “I have a boyfriend,” without giving him a second look.
He frowned nevertheless.
“That’s too bad,” he finally said, letting out a loud sigh, excessively dramatic for the situation. You stared at him, dumbfounded, and he suddenly clasped his hands together, preparing to say something else but the barista had called for the next customer.
He made a motion for you to go before him, and flustered, you obliged, giving the barista a look that implored for help in any way he could offer it. The barista knew you well enough to ring up your order before you even asked for it, but not well enough to sense that the man behind you was actively harassing you.
“I can buy my own coffee, sir,” you murmured once you saw him rummage in his pockets and pull out his wallet while the barista went off to toast your pastry.
He grinned widely.
“Call me Satoru.”
---
“A drink for you, sir?”
The flight attendant’s voice betrayed a hint of irritation under her sweet tone of voice, hinting that she had been waiting for him to answer a while, and Oikawa realized that he had been staring at his phone for a lot longer than he expected. He flashed her his classic pearly whites before nodding, but the wheels in his head were still turning.
A mere couple of hours into the first leg of his flight back to Japan, he had taken to poring over his last few conversations with you.
Conversations that, at least from his end, had become pressured, short, and at times, he had been downright dismissive.
But he loved you - you had to understand that! It was a lot to manage: being available for you but also giving 150% of himself to the game.
So what if he missed your calls but kept his Instagram up-to-date? So what if he was a little bit too cozy with his fans (and known to be so)?
There was always you, and you were supreme. He’d do anything for you.
“Wine?” The attendant offered him the higher octave in her voice making it clear that Oikawa had managed to charm her back into her retail persona.
Maybe a glass, but he’d limit his drinking. He wouldn’t want to disappoint you when you met.
---
You were shocked.
Satoru stopped a car that was meant to crush you, and you were still trying desperately to comprehend what had just transpired.
You were possibly too eager to escape that coffee shop, to get away from the young man whose presence both unsettled your stomach and made your face grown warm, that you’d hurried out into the crosswalk, somewhat complicated drink and slightly crisped pastry in hand, and right into the path of a car hurtling through a red light.
You didn’t have time to scream or rarely even time to drop your drink, but the impact of your carelessness and preoccupation, between him, being late to work, wondering why the fuck your boyfriend had yet again forgotten to text back, never came.
Instead, the car seemed to halt to a stop almost immediately before you, before him who now stood before you with lips held into a neutral expression, and one hand in his pocket. Even if time seemed to stop for a split second, the force that should have struck your body didn’t, instead hurtling around you in a terrifying gust of wind.
But you were safe.
There was a shatter of glass windows as energy redistributed and the car took the brunt of the shock, and airbags deployed, engulfing the driver who could have possibly ended your life.
When Satoru finally turned to you slowly, looking at your cowering form, you finally caught a glimpse of piercing blue. For once he wasn’t smiling, and he was suddenly much more terrifying than anything else.
As though the mask had come off.
He didn’t ask if you were okay. Instead, he asked you to control your grief.
---
You shouldn’t be able to love anyone so much that your heart breaks repeatedly.
Something about you had to be pathological - it couldn’t be normal to feel the pain of separation this acutely. It was just a long-distance relationship, even if he was just getting more famous and less available by the day.
You shouldn’t wake up wondering if you could still breathe without him.
You shouldn’t.
---
“I’m a sorcerer,” Gojo revealed as he stirred a warm caramel latte, as though he had said the most natural thing in the world.
You tilted your head over so slightly, knit eyebrows betraying your confusion.
“... Like a circus performer?”
The repetitive turn of his wrist halted almost immediately and he looked at you, the constant smug smirk immediately awash from his features.
“Do I look like I belong in the circus?!” He half-exclaimed, half-whined, as though you were the only patrons in this bustling coffee shop. Part of you was bent on saying yes, but you kept mum yet staring at his face in distress, you find yourself stifling a giggle.
Now that he’d saved your life, you felt (and probably erroneously so) obligated to at least indulge him in coffee, and your curiosity about the young man sitting before you a whole day later now waffled between morbid and genuine.
Cursed energy? Leaking from you? Sorcery?
He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair once he realized you were more entertained by his distress than anything else, crossing his arms and raising his legs on the table. You stared at the bottom of his shoes with mild disgust but instead focused on his face.
He really was like your Tooru, the boyfriend that slipped away from your reach in your nightmares, causing you to wake in a cold sweat. You shook the thought of your head, a quick barely perceptible movement, and crossed your own arms.
“You’re sad enough that I can sense it, which despite the fact that I am obviously quite gifted, can be a bit of an issue long term.”
“Why would it be an issue to you?”
“Because grief creates spirits and spirits are a pain in my ass.”
You furrowed your eyebrows again.
“So you followed me because you thought I was sad?” It sounded far fetched enough but absolutely on brand for a weirdo like the man before you. You took a sip of your tea - you’d picked chai for this… meeting. It wasn’t a date.
He grinned, an elbow rested on the table propping up his chin as he leaned back towards you.
“No, it’s because I thought you were beautiful.” ---
For the first time in a year, Oikawa’s first step back on Japanese soil did not immediately bring him joy but anxiety.
It was odd for him to feel anxiety, this unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, but of course it would dissipate the moment he saw you.
But first, a warm shower in his new hotel room. Then he’d go to see you.
It felt odd not to have you waiting for him, your million dollar - no, priceless - smile on your face, so he could kiss you dramatically in the midst of all watching to again reassert that you are his, and his alone.
But you were upset, and understandably so.
So he would come to you, as a good boyfriend should.
---
“I have a boyfriend,” you told him immediately and indignantly, as you got up to leave. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you I’m not interested.”
He didn’t rise as fast as you did, watching you calmly instead as you balled your fists in irritation. It’s so shameless how he flirts, you thought. He’s so bold and rude and even if he’s a ‘sorcerer’ as he claims, there’s no spell that he can cast onto you that will make you leave Oikawa for him.
Not your Tooru, whose last Instagram post features a beautiful, tan, large-breasted and bikini-clad woman you’ve never met.
“Where is he then?” Satoru said in a low voice. He didn’t necessarily mean to cut but it did anyway. A lump formed in your throat.
“Overseas.”
---
The sound of chirping crickets is surprisingly loud for this part of the city, Oikawa considered, as he made his way towards your apartment building. It was an atypically warm evening for this point in the spring and he briefly mused if that is what excited them. Maybe they were cheering for him. They sounded a lot like the crowds if he closed his eyes.
He also hoped you had room for the gifts he carried with him, the most important of which was a Cartier bracelet he would hand to you once he departed, with a solid gold T for Tooru.
If he was on the search for fame and glory, he had to spoil you too, right?
To think that you were so angry with him that you had not yet contacted him since he had landed.
He knocked on your door finally, noting the shuffling of too many feet towards the door. This was the right door. He didn’t understand. Did you have friends over?
He called, and you didn’t immediately pick up.
---
“You have to leave!” You hissed. The statement was a plea and it was a command and it was a curse.
The blue of Satoru’s eyes was less electric in the dim moonlight, now more of a cool ice. Bare naked like this and barely visible save for the cracks of the illuminated city through your blinds, he was unfairly beautiful, as though he were carved out of marble. Again like your Tooru. Like, not better.
But still, he was there when Tooru wasn’t.
But Tooru was there now, knocking on your door, having traveled thousands of miles despite the fact that you had broken up with him just yesterday.
It was too little, too late.
But you didn’t love Satoru. He was just a band-aid for the loneliness that wrung agony out of you.
Right?
“I don’t want to leave,” your makeshift lover replied, flatly.
Your glare was sharp and instant, but Satoru matched your look, less pointed but unwilling to sway.
An unstoppable force, no different from the day he’d saved your life.
But he’d caused the problem in the first place, hadn’t he? Would you have run out so carelessly if not for him?
Your voice softened as you slipped on your clothes. The fight was lost before it started.
“Please? I… I can’t do this to him.”
Only a plea was left.
Your phone started to ring and your throat felt as though it would close up.
“___?”
Before you knew it, you heard your front door open and your heart dropped into your throat.
---
“What the fuck-”
Blue eyes were cruel.
Oikawa prided himself on his height but Satoru was taller, and his smirk was wide, while Oikawa’s face was ghostlike, devoid of any appreciable expression. Stunned.
“So you’re the boyfriend?” His voice dripped with mock amusement and he patted him on the shoulder before swinging open the door wide, letting Oikawa into his own girlfriend’s apartment, only to stand face to face with you whose feet seemed glued to the floor in shock.
“I.. T-Tooru..”
“Are you fucking serious?!”
His voice came out as a cry and his tears hot and fast. You never thought you’d see him crumple so fast, for you, for anything.
Your mouth opened and closed, and your hands shook but again, you stayed planted to the same spot while Satoru, still shirtless (but at least with the decency to have worn a pair of pants before answering the door), settled himself on the couch.
Before you could open your mouth to find a word to defend yourself to your sobbing boyfriend, your visitor let out an exaggerated yelp.
“____, you really showed no mercy on my asshole, did you?” he jeered. Then covering his mouth, he made a gesture of ‘Oops.’
What could you do?
Oikawa looked like he would stop breathing any second. He wanted to fight and maybe scream, but what use was that?
You had broken up with him yesterday.
You approached slowly, attempting maybe a touch, anything that would make your mistake less grievous.
You’d only been seeing Satoru for several weeks to… you weren’t sure why, really? Tooru was the one you loved. And to see him curl up like this… someone who was normally so proud...
You were disgusted with yourself.
“Tooru-”
“You said you’d wait for me.”
It was shocking how quick he rose, broken dignity, gifts and all.
“Tooru!”
He turned to leave, while Satoru contented himself on picking the earwax from his ears. It was easier to be like this, insufferable, than to gracefully accept the idea that his object of affection loved someone else.
He’d coveted you from the day he’d met you.
“Tooru!!!”
You were running after a man who gave 150% to everything, yet again.
Everything but you.
But had he at the very least given you 100%? You weren’t sure.
Oikawa was the last person who could accept the thought of someone else. You weren’t sure if he’d call you ever again. You weren’t even sure you wanted to break up.
Cursed energy. Maybe you didn’t just leak cursed energy. Maybe you were just cursed.
Heart shattering to pieces once Oikawa was no longer within view, you made it back to your room. Satoru was there waiting, and you couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but his arms were open, and so you fell into them.
#oikawa x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#oikawa tooru x reader#commission work#crossover fic#haikyuu x reader#jjk x reader#haikyuu x jjk#mae.writing
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BnHA Chapter 291: The Endeavor Pamphlet
Previously on BnHA: Dabi showed up atop Gigantomachia’s back and was all “you’ll never guess who I really am!” and the readers humored him and were all “who?” and he was all “TODOROKI TOUYA” and we were all “WOW └(・。・)┘ OH MY GOSH I WOULD NEVER HAVE GUESSED”, except for Shouto and Enji who were GENUINELY SHOCKED. Anyway so Touya was all “and guess what I’m doing right now!” and before anyone could even try, he was all, “STREAMING MY EMMY-NOMINATED MINISERIES ‘HELLO, I’M EVIL BUT ALSO TRAGIC AND SEXY, NOW LET ME TELL YOU ALL ABOUT MY DAD WHO SUCKS’’, THAT’S WHAT.” And everyone was all “oh my god” and Touya was all “ヽ(⌐■_■)ノ♪” for basically the rest of the chapter, and that’s pretty much it! Oh, wait, except for the part where he also doused himself in bleach in a fit of pure theatrics, which is actually pretty much the main takeaway from the entire chapter really because it was just wild af. ANYWAYS.
Today on BnHA: Horikoshi introduces Baby Touya, the world’s most enchantingly sweet character, and is immediately all, “I sure can’t wait to tell you guys all about how his fucking jaw burnt off.” Thankfully he doesn’t (YET), and we cut back to the present pretty quickly, where Dabi explains how he took all of his brain cells that should have been used to stop him from pouring bleach over his head, and instead put them all toward his big brain plot of releasing an elaborate video detailing Endeavor’s various abuses and crimes, and even throwing Hawks under the bus as well because WHY NOT. He then leaps off of Gigantomachia’s back (like I said, no brain cells) all set to blast them with a Prominence Burn, only to be stopped by none other than THE LEGEND HIMSELF, MOTHERFUCKING BEST, PRETTIEST, NICEST, MOST OUTSTANDING MOTHERFUCKING JEANIST. Who’s no doubt outraged by the crime against hair he witnessed only moments earlier. GO GETTIM JEANY BOI.
so I haven’t had time to answer any of them because this has been the stupidest week, but I just wanted to tell you guys that I received no fewer than nine asks about Dabi’s hair. which, in a week filled with election memes and tumblr’s most cursed fandom briefly rising back up from the dead, is a pretty impressive feat for him if you ask me. like, I know I was making fun of it basically nonstop, but it sure did generate a lot of discussion so maybe I should rethink my opinions on Dabi’s PR strategies now, idk
anyway. it’s Saturday. time to catch up on this shit. let’s see how fucked the Todorokis are
OH NO HE’S CUTE
HOLY SHIT THIS IS TOO MUCH TO FUCKING PROCESS. I’M JUST TRYING TO ENJOY MY DAY HORIKOSHI, ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO TRAUMATIZE THIS POOR CHILD RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD
“thanks for being all right” the fuck
who allowed this child to be so cute. I’m serious. who signed off on this
how could a child this adorable possibly want to murder his equally adorable baby brother. please, your honor. there must be some mistake here
guess how prepared I am to read all about Touya’s tragic past. mm. that’s right. zero ready. none ready
anyway. TWO THOUSAND DEGREES LOLOLOL. NO TRACE OF A CORPSE HOW CONVENIENT. A PIECE OF HIS LOWER JAW BONE FFFFMSGHKLSh. LOVELY. LOVELY
LMAOOOOO
listen you guys. I just want to take a moment to appreciate that Horikoshi Kouhei did one of two things here. either (1) he planned it out FROM THE VERY START that Touya would be born with red hair Because Fire Powers, but would then have his hair turn white due to trauma, thus making the Dabi/Touya connection very slightly less obvious, although Let’s Be Real Who Are We Kidding. OR, (2) the anime got it wrong and gave him red hair, and rather than allowing this plot hole to continue to exist, Horikoshi took it upon himself to concoct this elaborate storyline and pretend it was never a plot hole at all! in which case I sure hope someone at Bones is sending him a VERY nice Christmas card this year. got this man sweeping up all your messes for you. you’re just lucky he has some sort of wild compulsion to address these things
anyways!!
FATHER AND SON. how sweet. :| still zero percent ready for any of this btw
STOP BEING CUTE
THIS IS RIDICULOUS. I’M SO MAD RIGHT NOW. HE IS THE SINGLE CUTEST CHARACTER IN THE ENTIRE SERIES, and do you even know how many other baby characters I’m betraying in order to say that?! baby Kacchan, baby Deku, baby Ochako, baby Shouto, Eri, baby Hawks. I’M LOOKING YOU DEAD IN THE EYE RIGHT NOW AND TELLING YOU THAT BABY TOUYA IS CUTER THAN ALL OF THOSE PLEBS. AND YOU’RE LOOKING BACK AT ME RIGHT NOW ALL “YEAH IT SURE IS A PITY ABOUT HIS JAW MELTING OFF THOUGH.” THAT’S IT, I QUIT THE SERIES
and Enji’s smiling at him. he’s so proud of him. but then Touya won’t be able to do it, and Enji’s gonna stop training him, and Touya’s gonna feel like a failure and keep pushing himself in order to try and win his dad’s affections back, because that’s all kids fucking want, all they want is just love, that’s fucking it, you couldn’t just give him that?? and then he’s gonna immolate himself fflkdlskfh THERE YOU SEE HORIKOSHI, I KNOW THE WHOLE STORY ALREADY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THE WHOLE “SHOW THEM THE DEAD DOG” THING YET AGAIN YOU PIECE OF SHIT
OH SNAP THERE GOES THE TWIN THEORY. R.I.P.
BABY FUYUMI. PRETTY CUTE. NOT AS CUTE AS TOUYA THOUGH. HEY LOOK, NO REASON TO GET MAD AT ME I’M JUST STATING A FACT HERE
YEAH THIS IS GONNA GO REAL WELL OH BOY
I keep pressing the emergency stop button but this industrial tragedy machine just keeps on chugging along anyway, I’m pretty sure this thing is not up to code
:| I am so sorry sweet boy, Horikoshi is only getting started with you
FUCKING HELL WITH THIS NARRATION
but he wasn’t actually a child to you, he was just a little puppet child for you to live vicariously through!! and then you went and did the same fucking thing with Shouto afterwards and never learned your lesson until just six months ago!! fucking hell, Enji
so now he’s all “Touya is dead, that’s an unforgivable lie” fflkdhflk motherfucker does he look dead to you. if you really think that, tumblr and twitter have got a little over five years’ worth of archived theory posts to show you
oh shit Touya’s countering with “it’s an unforgivable truth”, which, damn. I actually think Horikoshi’s dialogue is one of his weaker points as a writer a lot of the time, but that comeback was snappy as fuck
actually guys, now that I’ve seen how ridiculously fucking cute baby!Touya was, I can almost understand why Shouto and Enji never put the pieces together before lol. any passing similarities would have easily been dismissed on account of he’d need to be at least 10x more adorable in order to get the full resemblance
OH MY GOD
NOW YOU SLEEP??? SO YOU POINT BLANK REFUSED TO PASS OUT WHILE YOU WERE BUSY MAIMING ALL OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS, BUT NOW THAT THERE’S AN OPPORTUNITY TO SEE YOUR REACTION TO THE “YOUR LIEUTENANT WAS SECRETLY RELATED TO ONE OF YOUR WORST ENEMIES THE WHOLE TIME” BOMBSHELL, YOU FINALLY DECIDE TO GET YOUR FORTY WINKS. I SEE
WOW DABI
I’M SURPRISED YOU DIDN’T ALREADY HAVE YOUR ANCESTRY.COM RESULTS PRINTOUT READY TO FOLD INTO A PAPER AIRPLANE AND ZOOM ON DOWN TO HIM
LOL NEVERMIND
gotta say, so far The Endeavor Pamphlet is just about as spicy as I could have hoped
(ETA: Natsuo’s face as he watches his beloved dead brother come back to life only to literally and metaphorically set everything on fire in one fell swoop is :/. why must you do this to me Natsu. can’t you see I’m trying to throw a Welcome Back Jeanist party here.)
HAVE YOU READ THIS?! TODOROKI ENJI ABUSED HIS OWN HEIR, AND DABI WROTE IT DOWN RIGHT THERE
WELL HE’S NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / NEVER GON’ BE NUMBER ONE NOW / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT / THAT’S ONE LESS THING TO WORRY ABOUT
btw I neglected to mention this last week, but yes I do recognize and appreciate that this is Can’t Ya See-kun himself whom Horikoshi has chosen to be the face of this existential crisis which the general public is about to experience. rip CYS-kun
OOF
excuse me. putting aside the implications of Dabi sharing this context-less murder video of Hawks with the entire world for a moment, I just have to pause for a sec here, because when exactly did he get a chance to edit this all in?? complete with voiceover that seamlessly ties in with the prerecorded footage of him with DNA test results sans shirt?? you’re telling me this motherfucker, with all the smoke that was in the room thanks to his own quirk, somehow got a PERFECT SHOT of the PRECISE MOMENT when Hawks drove his feather knife into Jin’s back, using his MAGIC CAMERA THAT HE I GUESS HAD THE ENTIRE TIME IN THE POUCH RIGHT NEXT TO HIS BLEACH BOTTLE, and then immediately somehow got this very next shot as well FROM AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT ANGLE
ALL THE WHILE IMMEDIATELY RUNNING THROUGH SCRIPT REVISIONS IN HIS HEAD, WHICH HE THEN PROCEEDED TO RECORD... WHERE, EXACTLY?? WITH SKEPTIC, WHILST RIDING ON MACHIA’S BACK??
AND THIS IS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF???
and this after I just wrote that whole long paragraph positively GLOWING about this man’s ability to plug up a plot hole. jfc. just scratch out every damn word I said lol. just forget all of it
are you fucking kidding me, the footage was from the cameras Skeptic planted on Hawks??
that’s... actually... okay you know what, it still doesn’t make any sense in the slightest, but the determination to address it nonetheless... just, dammit... I feel like I’m constantly at war with myself over whether or not I want to shake this man’s hand or slap him lmao. whatever, then!!
anyway, since Shouto and Enji can’t actually see the damage that Touya is dealing to the hero industry even as they speak, Touya is taking it upon himself to give them the highlights
I think it’s a testament to how much Endeavor cares about Hawks that he managed to zero in on that comment even amidst all the craziness of his eldest son returning from the dead to announce how he’s been carefully plotting their destruction for years and years. like, he heard “Hawks” and his face immediately went like that. you think he’s worried that Dabi did something to him? because he’d be right to worry lol
so the Endeavor Pamphlet narration is now explaining all about how Hawks totally killed the Number 3 Hero Best Jeanist as well! yep... he sure did... totally...
OH MY GOD WE’RE CUTTING TO HIM AHHHHH
Hawks, that is. lol. not Jeanist. NO, JUST MY POOR HALF-DEAD WINGLESS BABY SON
NOOOOO HIS LITTLE WING STUMPS. BUT SOMEHOW HIS FACIAL HAIR IS STILL INTACT. OH TO BE AN ANIME PRETTY BOY BEING SET ON FIRE. “HEY, TAKE IT EASY, WATCH THE FACE”
EXCUSE ME WHAT
interesting! we suspected as much, I think, with the clues that Ending dropped, and the little flashback right after the name reveal. still not clear how Dabi found out about it though!
looooool okay here we go, breaking out the heavy-handed holier-than-thou shit now
you know, I do find it interesting how trying to model themselves after All Might’s noble Symbol of Peace image has kind of ended up being the heroes’ undoing here. like, I could write a whole essay on this, but what it basically boils down to is that they were all trying too hard to be perfect. All Might went out there and did his thing and was amazing, and so the powers-that-be built an entire system centered around this seemingly-infallible person, and they acted like the system was infallible as well. and so most of the population ended up becoming complacent over the years, and meanwhile the people who were unfortunate enough to fall through the cracks understandably wound up disillusioned and perceiving the heroes as these false idols
anyway, but I think one positive takeaway from this is that the new up-and-coming generation of heroes represent a breakaway from that system. like, imo what we’re witnessing is the downfall of the Perfect Hero, and the rise of the imperfect hero. and this new generation doesn’t shy away from their failures or pretend like they never happened. they pretty much can’t pretend, because their failures are all right out there in the open for everyone to see. Bakugou Katsuki, just to name one example off the top of my very biased head, has had his own personal character journey basically play out right in front of the media’s eyes. his humiliation at the sports festival, his kidnapping by the League, and all of the fallout afterward. this isn’t someone who can ever go out there and convince the world that he’s perfect. but what he can do, instead, is show the world that he’s trying. that he’s trying with everything he has to do his best, to be the best. rather than this untouchable godlike image, it’s instead the image of someone painfully human who is nonetheless striving with everything he’s got to keep moving forward, flaws and all, and work his way to the top
and ultimately I think that’s going to be a much more positive image to send out to the world when all’s said and done. because rather than merely inspiring awe, heroes like that inspire people to take action themselves. or at least that’s what I hope! and not just Bakugou, but the others as well. we’ve got Shouto, whose own personal trauma is being aired in front of the whole nation even as I sit here ranting. we’ve got Deku, who cries at the drop of a hat, and who fought to become a hero despite being quirkless (and I think it’s only a matter of time before that eventually becomes public knowledge as well). tl;dr because I’m getting way too long-winded here, but these kids have effectively been humanized in a way that the old generation never was, and I think that’ll go a long way towards building trust between them and the people they’ll someday be protecting, and inspiring the next generation in hopefully a much healthier way
anyway so where were we. ...oh yes, Dabi was explaining that heroes only protect themselves, and is presumably building up to his grand conclusion of “therefore you should all just let the villains take over and burn down the world”
omfg. YOU GUYS
DOES CAN’T YA SEE-KUN’S SHARK FRIEND ACTUALLY CALL HIM “CAN’T YA SEE-KUN.” HE HAS A NAME YOU KNOW!! UNLESS HE LEGALLY GOT HIS NAME CHANGED TO CAN’T YA SEE-KUN. OH MY GOD
ALSO, IS THAT CAN’T YA SEE-KUN CRYING IN THE BOTTOM RIGHT THERE OMG. GIVE THIS CHILD A HUG. EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW AND HUG HIM
BAKUGOU IS BARELY HANGING ON THERE LOL. GOTTA STAY CONSCIOUS... SO MUCH TEA BEING SPILLED... FOCUS... CONCENTRATE
IIDA’S ANGLING HIS HEAD IN A WEIRD WAY, LIKE DUDE. LOOKING SUSPICIOUSLY SNUGGLY THERE. MMM THESE IIDABAKU CRUMBS
HADOU IS ALL “WHAT EVEN IS ACTUALLY GOING ON” LMAO
LASTLY, POOR SHOUTO OMFG. WHEN YOU’RE ALL FINISHED HUGGING CYS-KUN THIS CHILD NEEDS YOUR ATTENTION!!
so now Dabi’s leaping off of this ninety-foot-tall gargoyle man like that’s a normal, smart thing to do. unless he can fly too now? saw his dad doing it back at Fukuoka and was all “hmm”
OH MY GOD SOMEONE TELL ME RIGHT NOW WHAT WORD SHOUTO IS USING TO ADDRESS ENJI, THESE TRANSLATIONS LOVE TO MESS WITH MY HEAD
ENJI GET MOVING DO YOU NOT SEE THOSE TEARS!!! SNAP OUT OF IT YOU BIG TREE
AHHHHH
OH KACCHAN YOU WOKE UP A LITTLE MORE THERE, HUH
lol he and Deku both look so determined but they’re basically sitting ducks. their “oh shit” faces do look remarkably like their “TIME TO SWING INTO ACTION” faces but don’t be fooled, they have one good arm and about six pints of blood left between the two of them. looks like this one’s all on you Shouto
-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH --
BAH GOD... WHAT’S GOING ON HERE... THAT’S BEST JEANIST’S MUSIC
y’all. can’t even talk right now, my brain has completely shut down lol. just. ...
°˖✧◝( ̄▿ ̄)◜✧˖°
#bnha 291#dabi#todoroki touya#endeavor#todoroki shouto#best jeanist#hawks#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha#you guys know that scene from the end of the lion king#the part where simba is walking up to the top of pride rock#and he lets out that roar as zimmer's score soars to a crescendo#yeah baby#that's the mood rn#welcome back king
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Werewolves Of London ( I )
Multiple Part Series
Part I
When Their Eyes Locked
Word Count: 2016
Fred Weasley x Fem!Werewolf!Reader
Summary: Fred can’t seem to stop himself from staring at you. What happens when your eyes lock?
Warnings: raunchy banter, description of turning into a werewolf (description of pain and screaming), being in pain, Y/n has a very prominent scar on her face idk if this is a warning (personally i don’t think it is but you can never be too careful😌)
A/N: Alrighttttt chapter one guys, pretty exciting😗. It’s kinda slow, really just introducing characters, background, and existing relationships. AH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE ITTTT, also best friend Lily makes a comeback (not Lily Evans)
“Come on! We’re gonna miss it!”
“We’re not gonna miss shit, either it happens here or it happens there.”
“I’d prefer the latter.”
Cedric let out a snort as he looked back at you, his scarf flapping in the wind and nearly hitting him in the face.
The wind was harsh this Saturday evening, overcast and gloomy, as three students were making their way to the Whomping Willow. The trek was meant to be a quiet one, a sneaky departure from the castle, but of course that was never the case. Not when Cedric Diggory seemed to ooze happiness and joy with each step, his smile warming the crisp, cool air around him; not when Lily Mclaggen (older sister of Cormac) had just as much snap as her brother had confidence and especially not when Y/n L/n, a sarcastic lycanthrope, was about seven minutes away from being in the midst of the full moon.
A sickeningly loud cracking started to sound from behind Cedric, making him turn to see you doubled over.
“Lily!”
“Calm down!”
You groaned, “I’m fine, let’s just go.”
Lily hooked her arm around your waist, shoving you toward the Whomping Willow that Cedric had fortunately petrified. You were able to just catch the familiar badger disappear into the hole under the tree. The pain was excruciating, making your knees give way and your body hit the ground as you felt what seemed to be your bones breaking, muscles tearing, skin stretching to accommodate the form of a beastly form. Groans and screams were pulled from your throat as you transformed, your hands scratching at your neck- or any exposed skin really- to somehow try and claw the pain away.
One last blood curdling scream turned into a strangled howl at the bright moon.
The werewolf stood up, shaking off the dirt from the ground, before snapping at whatever was nipping at its tail. A bone-chilling laugh sounded in the dim tunnel before the hyena gestured toward the badger to start making their way to the shrieking shack through the dark tunnel- the werewolf followed, it didn’t like being alone for long.
--
“Let’s go Fred, before Filch catches up.” George huffed out, his chest heaving from the vigorous running his lungs had to endure just moments prior.
His twin stood still, faint breaths passing from his lips the only thing being heard, his honey brown eyes taking in the vastness of the dark navy sky before him.
Fred had always loved the moon.
If he thought about it hard enough, George could still feel the harsh swats to his rear from when their mother found them out in the field behind the Burrow after Fred had insisted on sneaking out to look at the moon.
George groaned, “It’s just the moon, it’ll be there tomorrow, the day after that and I’m willing to bet my left ear that the moon will be there everyday after that.”
“Yeah but,” Fred grumbled, dramatically gesturing toward the sky with his hand. “It’s a full moon tonight, won’t be full tomorrow now will it?”
The attitude was clear in his tone, even more so in his raised eyebrows and pointed look. George conceded with a laugh, muttering out an ‘alright, Freddie’.
A piercing howl ripped through the silence making the brothers jump and look toward where it had come from- somewhere down near Hogsmeade they’d guess.
Fred slowly turned to his brother, speaking just barely above a whisper, “You think it was a werewolf?”
He had the same glint of mischief in his eyes that he’d get when he was younger and itching to tell a scary story.
George only shook his head, “In Hogsmeade?” He questioned. “Surely, you’re daft Freddie, what would a werewolf be doing in Hogsmeade?”
A shrug was his only response, before he added, “Wouldn’t be too surprising now would it? We’ve got a pink toad in Hogwarts.”
---
Your steps were slow and calculated as you made your way to the Great Hall. Cedric had his arm around your shoulder, no doubt trying to subtly check and see if the bandages he wrapped had held up when you changed into fresh clothes, and Lily had a habit of walking one or two steps behind you just after a full moon- you had a habit of stumbling or even losing balance completely during the few days following.
“You’re looking a lot better than last time, walking around and not stuck in the hospital wing.” Lily commented quietly.
Cedric nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it’s rather boring without your company.”
The comment was meant to rile up Lily, which it did beautifully.
“Right git you are, Diggory, you’re the boring one. You prefects, I swear-”
Lily continued on to grumble about all prefects being the same as you three made it through the doors and to your usual seats- the farthest table to the right, near the large window, and in between a few Hufflepuffs and a couple scattered Gryffindors.
Heat seemed to trail up your shoulder and to your face, the feeling of eyes on you had you inwardly wincing. You never felt too confident the morning after a full moon and it was most mornings that you could feel the heated weight of Fred Weasley’s eyes on you. Amazingly enough, you resisted the urge to turn and meet his gaze instead opting for taking a seat on the bench in between Cedric and Lily and placing your head on Lily’s shoulder lethargically.
On the other side of the room, Lee was slowly chewing on his bite of sugary cereal as he studied the eldest twin.
“You know, mate, you could just talk to her.” He offered up, making Fred rapidly blink as he was brought back to reality.
He frowned, “We’ve been in the same house for seven years, if she wanted to talk to me… she would’ve.”
His eyes seemed to naturally shift back to your form. You were half asleep, head resting on your friend’s shoulder as prettyboy Diggory couldn’t seem to wipe the bright smile off his face so early in the morning.
Fred had always noticed you. In your first year you had offered him your seat in potions next to George because it ‘didn’t feel right’ splitting him and George up on the first day of school- or so you had said before you went to sit next to another first year, Lily.
Second year was when he started to really pay attention to the rather heartwarming- or so Angelina had called it- closeness of your relationship with Lily. You were a sickly child, it seemed almost every month you had come down with something. Fred could remember seeing little twelve year old you sitting near the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, head on Lily’s shoulder just as it was now and your face incredibly pale yet a warm smile still gracing your lips.
It was the third year when Fred started to realize his curious looks and sweaty palms were not something that just happened. He liked you. The quiet remarks you made under your breath and comedically uncontrollable reactions had him swooning. Third year was also the year that the infamous duo of Y/n and Lily had turned into a trio, prettyboy Diggory finding a cozy spot attached to your hip. It seemed everywhere you went, Cedric was there too.
It was during third year Fred learned about jealousy.
“How do you suppose she got her scar?” Lee asked in a hushed voice not wanting to be overheard.
Fred thought back to when he had first seen you with the gash trailing down from the arch of your left eyebrow to the apple of your right cheek, passing over the bridge of your nose. Sure he had seen you roughed up before, mundane bruises and scratches he imagines you received from being clumsy or maybe roughhousing with siblings he didn’t know you had (Merlin knows Fred himself had enough marks from his brothers roughing him up, all in good fun of course). This was different- violent, it seemed- nothing friendly could’ve made such an angry infliction.
“Does it matter?” Fred mumbled rather defensively. “She’s still...angelic.” He muttered with little regard as to what he was actually saying- his attention was stolen by the grimace that darkened your face as you shifted in your seat to reach for a box of chocolatey cereal.
George faked a dramatic gag, “Sods been a right sap for that girl for years now, still hasn't done a single thing.”
“Give him time,” Lee laughed, moving to shove Fred’s arm teasingly. “Fred’ll man up eventually.”
The seemingly lovestruck boy rolled his eyes at the two, “Fuck off, both of you wankers.”
--
The full moon and weekend had come and gone, the bitter taste of the start of a new school week was on everyone’s tongue as they made their way to their last class Monday afternoon.
You trudged into the dimly lit potions room, the brooding figure of Severus Snape doing nothing to lighten the atmosphere.
“Afternoon, Professor.” You quietly greeted as you slid into your seat.
The man seemed to only grumble out a response, not deeming a proper return of greeting worthy of his time- though you preferred this, rather not wanting to strike up a conversation with the potions Professor.
Lily clambered into the seat beside you, her usual seat, just a few seconds before class started. Her hair was frazzled and her tie a tad askew, silently you handed her a compact mirror from your book bag- though the smirk on your lips was loud.
“Don’t look so smug.” She teased, hand combing down her hair. “You’ve seen the thighs on Natasha Ravenforth, was I just supposed to deny myself the pleasure?”
Her tone was filled with incredulity, eyes wide and questioning almost as if she really couldn’t fathom the thought of not snogging the curvy Hufflepuff just before class. You kept silent, though your smile grew as you felt Lily’s eyes trained on you before she huffed and looked toward Professor Snape who was now beginning his lesson.
The class seemed to drone on, a long lecture from the monotone Severus Snape the only thing filling the agenda had the pace of the lesson slowed to an aching crawl. As your ears started to tune out his painful drawl you noticed it. Like an itch you couldn’t scratch or a twitch you just couldn’t shake, you could feel someone’s eyes on you. You turned to meet the person’s gaze, curiosity indeed killed the cat, and you were met with the honey-brown irises of none other than Fred Weasley. He seemed to be looking at you, or just passed you, with his chin resting on his folded forearms. His lack of reaction to you catching him staring led you to believe he was far too zoned out to know what he was doing, that is until he blinked a few times and his eyes snapped up to meet yours.
You didn’t really know him. Fred Weasley seemed to be everywhere and nowhere all at once, he was elusive and loud and if you weren’t careful you’d definitely find yourself falling for his toothy grin or boyish charm.
Your eyes seem to lock and you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the feeling fluttering deep within your chest at the way his facial expression seemed to soften and his head tilt ever so gently as his eyes swam with what you could only describe as- for lack of better words- wonder.
A nudge to your ribs brought you back to reality, Lily’s elbow still prodding at your torso until you turned to face the front of the class again just as Professor Snape was turning away from the board he had stuck his nose to whilst writing notes.
With one glance at Lily you could see the irritatingly smug smirk stretching across her face, her eyes still looking forward.
“Don’t look so smug.” You grumbled, roughly picking up your quill to take down notes.
tags:
@siriusement
@amourtentiaa
@vsawyer1989
@lifeofkaze
@theorangedrummer
@erinruby003
@famdomhideout
@an2402lths
@escapingrealitybyreading
@readyg0erge
@maybesandohnos
@therealhouseelvesofhogwarts
@onlyfreds
#fred weasley#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley series#fred weasley x werewolf!reader
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Highlight Of The Summer
Summary: You’re staying with your cousin for the summer, and it turns out to be the best decision you’ve ever made
OR
The four times you tease Matsukawa and the one time he pays you back
Pairing: Matsukawa Issei x black!fem!reader
Warnings: a whole lot of sexual tension, sexual tendencies, use of drugs: weed, shotgunning, a whole lot of teasing, (smut 18+!!), unprotected sex (stay safe out there dudes!), fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (m. receiving), throat fucking, ass slapping, daddy kink, nipple play, little fluff and aftercare at the end LMAO
Word Count: 5,847 (words of just filth)
A/N: I don’t know if y’all know, but I am a WHORE for Mattsun, so please enjoy this for you fellow people who agree with me. Also, this was wayyy longer than I thought it was going to be, but whew chile I got flustered just writing it lmao, so here y’all go. P.S: I also mention something about a sleep bra? Like a bra that’s not a bra bra but it’s not a sports bra either?? Idk what it’s called so, I just called it a sleep bra lol
PART TWO//PART THREE
"I forgot to mention, I need to warn you, dude," Hanamaki speaks up as he passes the ball to Matsukawa, who continues peppering, but now there's a confused look on his face.
"Warn me about what?" he questions playfully, spiking a controlled ball to Makki.
"My cousin's coming into town, and she’s staying the whole summer." Makki's words show that he's annoyed, and Mattsun chuckles.
"Okay. Still doesn't tell explain why you had to warn me."
"She's crazy, man. And gets on my last nerve." Mattsun chuckles again at his best friend's opinion. He goes to respond, but a voice stops him before he can speak.
"Hiro!!" Hanamaki catches the ball as his head drops as he lets out a groan. Mattsun watches a figure run up behind Makki, and they wrap an arm around his shoulders, catching him off guard as his body falls forward slightly. "How's my favorite cuzzo doing, huh?"
"Was doing just fine until you came," he spits, and you laugh.
"Oh, come on, cuz, don't be like that. I know you love me deep down, don't fight it." You laugh again when he throws your arm off his shoulders, and your laugh stops when you land on the guy standing a few feet away from him. "Now, Hiro, why didn't you tell me that you had hot friends?"
Mattsun feels his face heat up at your sudden compliment as he lets out a choked laugh. You walk forward a bit as you start talking. "I'm l/n f/n, but I'm willing to change my last name to yours. Care to tell me what it is?"
You finish with a smirk, and you can help but feel more confident when he gives you a slow once over. "Ma--"
"None of your business," Makki cuts him off, and you roll your eyes as you turn to him.
"Oh, come on, man, don't be like that. I'm gonna find out anyway because I'm gonna be staying with you." His eyes widen at your statement as you smile widely at him. "Oh, you didn't hear? Our moms thought it was a good idea to let me stay with you. For the whole summer." You pause before saying the last sentence for dramatic effect, and your smile doesn't falter as Hanamaki's scowl gets deeper.
"You have to be fucking with me right now," he says, and you shake your head eagerly, knowing that he can't refuse.
"Nope. I'll go get my bags from the car." You bound over towards him, wrapping your arm around his shoulders before rubbing the top of his head with your fist. "This is going to be so much fun," you say excitedly, and he shoves you off of him.
You chuckle and start to walk off to your car, but not before you send a wink to the hot guy standing in front of you.
You bounce happily to your car, and Makki lets out a tired sigh as he fixes his hair, his face showing how pissed he is when he looks at Mattsun, making him chuckle. "She's...something."
"ONE more game, alright?" Makki pleads, and Mattsun rolls his eyes but gives in.
"Fine." Mattsun's phone dings twice and he picks it up quickly before Makki can see the screen.
"Someone important?" he jokes, and Mattsun doesn't look him in the eye as he struggles to find an answer. "You gonna tell me who it is?" Mattsun gives him a look that tells it all, and Makki scoffs. "How'd she get your number?"
"From your phone obviously, Hiro," you bud in, your face right next to Makki's as he jumps away from you. "You know your phone password is really easy. You should change that."
"What did you do?" he asks, and you wave him off as you stand upright behind the couch.
"Oh, relax, just his number...and I sent a few selfies of you to myself." Makki scoffs again as he turns to look at you. "You know, to post for your birthday."
Makki releases an angry sigh as he stands, mumbling something about going to the bathroom, and you roll your eyes at his dramatics as you smile.
You glance at Mattsun, who's not looking your way, and a devilish smirk makes it way onto your face as an idea comes to your mind, your core pulsing at the idea of it.
"You know, Hiro always loved to collect movies," you say out loud, more to yourself, testing how he reacts.
"Yeah, it's gotten bigger since I've last seen it," he responds easily, and you hum as you walk around the couch, making your way towards the entertainment center around the TV full of movies.
"It's been a while since I've seen it, but it's definitely grown since then." When you get to the entertainment center, you bend over to look at the movies on the lower shelves when you hear Mattsun's breath hitch behind you.
You know that these are a shorter pair of your shorts, you must've put these in the dryer by accident, and you can feel that a good portion of your ass is out, and the fact that you know he's watching you, sends a jolt right down to your core.
You don't know what it is about this guy, but teasing him riles you so easily that you can feel your juices staining your shorts. You bend over a little further, and your smirk widens when you hear a muffled groan come from behind you.
When you hear footsteps coming from the hallway, you stand back up and turn around, the both of you keeping your eyes on each other as you walk towards the couch just as Makki is coming into the living room.
Makki sits where he was sitting, his attention still on his phone, and you walk to the back of the couch, leaning down next to Mattsun's ear, the one that Hiro can't see.
"If it wasn't obvious," you whisper just loud enough for him to hear, "that wet spot was for you." Your tongue darts out to touch his earlobe, pulling on it lightly with your teeth, chuckling softly when you see his hands grip the controller harder.
You stand up and start walking out of the living room. "Make sure you guys keep the noise down, 'kay?" you say as you disappear down the hallway.
Meanwhile, Mattsun's solely focusing on not getting a boner with his best friend right next to him. "She say something nasty to you?" Makki speaks up, making Mattsun jump.
"W-What?"
"Yeah, sorry about that. She's always saying some out of pocket shit." Makki clearly doesn't understand what kind of out of pocket statement you just said to him, and he clears his throat as he nods, thinking about anything but you as he tries to control himself.
TWO sounds come from behind you as you're sitting in the backyard. A sliding door and footsteps coming closer to you. "I'd knew you'd join me sooner or later."
He chuckles. "Yeah, well, I wanted to see what your definition of 'surprise' was."
You laugh lightly as you reveal your surprise without looking at Mattsun, the little plastic bag in your hand.
"Is that what I think it is?"
"Yep," you respond, popping the 'p' as you turn to him. "Found Hiro's secret stash. Wanted a smoke buddy. You down?"
You look back at him, and he shrugs saying fuck it as he sits in the lounge chair next to yours. You roll the first one, putting it in your mouth as you flick the lighter. You take the first drag, coughing a little as you blow out the smoke. "Damn. Should've known that Hiro had the strong stuff."
You pass it to Mattsun who does the same as you before passing it back to you. You both pass it back and forth two more times before you speak again. "You ever shotgunned before?" you ask, your brain already feeling like it's slowing down. He keeps his eyes on you as he shakes his head slowly.
"Wanna try?" He thinks about it for a second before nodding once. You clumsily find your way to get up without dropping the blunt and walk over to where he's sitting. You rest your free hand on his shoulder as you lift one leg, moving it to the other side of the chair as you straddle him.
You bite your lip as you sit on his lap, feeling him through the thin material of both of your shorts. His hands find purchase on your waist, his fingers rubbing on the exposed skin under your crop top.
You keep your eyes on his as you pull from the blunt, and your other hand finds the back of his head, your fingers threading through his hair as you bring his head closer, your lips dangerously close to touching.
You breathe out, both of you watching the smoke go from your mouth to his. You watch as he breathes in then tilts his head up to breathe the smoke out. He blinks slowly as he tilts his head back down, both of you maintaining eye contact as he grabs the blunt out of your hand.
You watch as he takes a hit, and one of his hands runs up your back to grab at your neck, a shiver running through your spine the opposite way. He pulls your head down, lips brushing against each other as he exhales into your mouth.
You inhale deeply, lifting your head as you breathe the smoke out. You look back down, keeping your head in the same position, making your lips touch again. "I noticed that you sometimes sleep on the couch," you speak up, your lips keeping close contact, you're almost kissing him.
"Well, the bed I usually sleep in is taken," he quips back, and you lean into his ear.
"You could always join me. I don't bite," you whisper, and you roll your hips forward, and you don't miss the way he releases a shaky breath in your ear, the sound going south easily. "Whaddya say?"
"THREE scoops of ice cream should be enough," you say to yourself as you put the top back on the ice cream container, placing it in the freezer.
You grab a spoon from one of the drawers and find a seat at the island in the kitchen. You're halfway through your ice cream when you hear footsteps coming into the kitchen. "Who eats ice cream at three in the morning?"
You smile at the question as you dig into your ice cream. "Me. What about it?" The owner of the voice walks into your view, standing on the other side of the island. "I didn't wake you, did I?"
He shakes his head. "Nah, I couldn't go to sleep anyway," Mattsun answers honestly. He hasn't been able to sleep well every time he's over here. You suddenly filling up every one of his desires. But one day, he's going to get back at you. The more you tease him, the more he gets riled up.
"Want some?" you ask, sticking the spoon in your mouth and dragging it out slowly, his eyes never leaving your mouth. He nods silently, and you put some ice cream on the spoon, moving the spoon towards his mouth.
He grabs your hand, moving the spoon towards his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. He slowly pulls the spoon out of his mouth, letting go of your hand. "Tastes really good." He stands up, leaning over the counter. "And you've got some," he reaches his hand out, his thumb gliding over your bottom lip. "Right there."
He puts his thumb in his mouth, licking it clean before he smirks at you. Two can play at this game.
You grab his hand, leading it over top of your bowl. "And you've got some," you dip his finger into some of the melted ice cream. "Right there."
You coat it in the creamy liquid before lifting it up to your mouth. Staring right at him, you put the digit in your mouth, tongue flicking all around it, making sure you get all of it off.
He lets out a garbled 'fuck' and you pop the finger out of your mouth, giving him a proud smirk.
"FOUR pancakes? You're gonna eat four pancakes at once?" Mattsun asks his pink-haired friend as said friend stacks them on his plate.
"Yeah, I am," he deadpans, "and you better go wake Y/N up or else she's not getting anything." Makki takes the plate, walking out of the kitchen as Mattsun takes a deep breath as he walks to your room.
He knocks on the door, and when he doesn't get a response, he cracks open the door to see you on your stomach, covers sprawled out everywhere. He lets out a small huff as he smiles, walking towards your sleeping figure.
He can't help it, and the first thing he does is rake his eyes down your body, one leg bent at the knee, the other one straightened out. Your shorts have come up in your sleep, your butt on display, and Mattsun diverts his eyes as he calls your name.
You don't respond, and he leans down to shake you gently. You turn your head, and he can see that your eyes are still closed. "Y/N." He says your name a little louder, shaking you a little harder.
You stir and your eyes open slightly, a sleepy smile coming onto your face when they land on him. "Hey, Issei." You take a deep breath, and Matsukawa ignores the way your sleepy voice saying his name makes him feel. "What's up?"
Your legs switch positions, making your ass shake from the movement, and he wills himself not to look. "Makki made pancakes," is all he can manage to get out, and you roll over on your side to stretch, but that doesn't make things better for Mattsun. Your boobs falling out of the sleep bra you're wearing.
He looks away, willing the thoughts to go away as you stand up, fixing your clothes as you yawn. "You're not gonna put a shirt on?" he asks as you head for the door, and you wave him off.
"Nah, it's too hot. And you like the view too, so..." You trail off, walking out the room as Matsukawa's face turns red.
He takes another deep breath as he follows after you, and you've already made a plate. "Jeez, Y/N, couldn't you put some clothes on?" Hiro complains from his place on the couch and you shrug.
"Well, when you stop turning off the air conditioning during the hottest day of the summer, I would have some clothes on." You pour syrup over your pancakes, and when you see Mattsun watching you, you slide out of your cousin's view.
You put the syrup down before dipping your fingers in the pile of syrup that dripped down from the pancakes onto your plate. You coat them in syrup, lifting your fingers up in front of your mouth, spreading them apart watching the strings connect your fingers.
You look right at him as you stick your fingers in your mouth, and as much as he needs to, he can't look away, and he's teetering on the edge of a dangerous cliff. You see his fists clench as he pushes his lower half into the island.
You pull your fingers out when they're clean, and you walk towards him, setting the bottle of syrup next to his plate. "Seems like you've got a problem there. Let me know if I can help." You walk out, sending him a wink over your shoulder, and he waits until you're out of view to slam his head onto the counter.
"FIVE minutes until what?" Makki asks into his phone, and you see his face drop before he slaps a palm on his forehead. "Shit, that's today? Okay okay, relax, I'll be there in like fifteen." He hangs up the phone, and you watch as he runs into his room, and when he comes out, he dressed a little more formally.
"Wow, who are you getting all dressed up for?" you ask, spreading out on the couch.
"I forgot about this thing my friend wanted me to attend to." He makes sure he has everything before booking it to the door, but not before he turns to you. "Y/N, please behave."
You roll your eyes. "Sure thing, Dad. Have fun." And he leaves.
You lay down on your back on the couch, humming a tune to a song you can't bring yourself to remember the name of when you hear Mattsun walk in. He's shirtless and you assume he just took a shower because he has a towel resting around his neck.
"Did Makki just leave?" he asks you, standing behind the couch, and you nod.
"Yeah, had to do something for a friend. Probably won't be back for a few hours." You put one arm behind your head, the other resting on your stomach as you shift a little, making yourself a little bit more comfortable.
Mattsun's eyes drag down your body, and you feel your body ignite under his gaze. You watch as he walks around the couch, standing where he's looming over you. "Need something?" you ask, and there's a different look in his eyes.
"Stand up." His voice is deeper, darker than it usually is, but you don't move. "I won't tell you again." You don't admit that this new sounding voice makes your core beat in excitement, but you stand anyway, standing right in front of him.
He gives you a smirk that nearly makes your knees go weak, and he steps beside you, taking the towel from around his neck and spreading it out over the couch. You raise an eyebrow, and when he turns around, you go to speak, but he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, crashing his lips onto yours.
You squeak in surprise, but it's easily swallowed as Mattsun kisses your mouth hungrily. His other hand palms your ass, gripping it tightly as he pulls you flush against him. When you gasp, he shoves his tongue in your mouth as your hands find their way onto his broad shoulders.
He breaks the kiss, and it takes you a while to come back to your senses, your head dizzy with lust as you catch your breath. "I don't think you can take it," he says into your neck as he starts planting hot, open mouth kisses, stopping at the bottom of your neck, grabbing the skin there with his teeth, making you hiss.
"T-Take, what?" Your brain is barely keeping up with his words, only focused on what his mouth is doing. You hear him chuckle against your skin as he moves to the other side of your neck, both of his hands now on your ass, and he presses you against him even more, and you can feel his erection digging into your thigh as you let out a quiet moan.
"This dick," he tells you bluntly, and he lifts his head up. Now that he's not on your neck, your head is a little clearer, and you chuckle softly as you raise an eyebrow at him.
"Oh? Confident in your skills I see." You start to drag a hand down his ridiculously toned torso as you start talking. "I've never been one to back down from a challenge." You feel your mouth drop open when you feel how big it is, and Mattsun huffs at you.
"You sure? You don't sound very convincing." You erase the initial look of surprise on your face, replacing it with a confident smirk, making him raise his eyebrows at you. Before you can say anything else, he's spinning the both of you around, pushing you so you're sitting on the couch, the obvious tent in his shorts in your eye line.
You rake your eyes done his naked upper half, eyes zeroing in on the happy trail that disappears into his shorts. He shoves his shorts down his legs, his cock flinging up, hitting his stomach, and your eyes widen when you see his size. He's huge. He's bigger than anyone you've taken, and at your reaction, he smiles. "I thought you don't back down from a challenge?" he picks at you, and lick your bottom lip as you smirk.
You lean forward, taking him in your hand, and you can feel how heavy he is as you guide him towards your mouth, tracing a thick vein with your tongue up the side of his length. You hear let out a deep sigh before you take him into your mouth, and you don't even have him halfway in when you feel your gag reflex surfacing. You try to use your hand on the rest of him that's not in your mouth, but he pushes your hand away.
"Nuh-uh. You can be a big girl and use your mouth," he tells you, and you start to sink further down. "Fuck," he whispers harshly, and his hand finds its way to your hair, and you close your eyes as his grip tightens. He starts to push your head further down his length until your nose is brushing those soft curls. "Shit, your mouth is good for something other than being a tease, who knew?"
He starts thrusting into your mouth, and you relax your jaw as you breathe through your nose, your hands digging into the thick flesh of his thighs, and he hisses at the feeling. The noises he's making are making you even more aroused, and one of your hands leaves his thigh to try to give you some release, but he stops you once again. "Don't you fucking touch yourself. Do it, and you won't, fuck, won't get to cum at all. Shit." You attempt to whimper around his length, the vibration sending a chill down his spine as he feels himself getting closer.
The rhythm of his thrusts starts to become sloppy, and you bring a hand up to tug at his balls, and that sends him over the edge. He cums with a loud groan of your name, you swallowing every last drop before he lets go of your hair, and you fall back against the couch as you catch your breath. He wobbles a little bit as he takes in your disheveled features, drool and tears running down your face, and he feels himself getting hard again.
He pulls you up from the couch, sitting in your spot before pulling you back down on his lap. Your shirt and sports bra are taken off quickly, and he attacks your chest making you cry out in pleasure as your hands grip his hair. His mouth is sucking and biting at one nipple while his hand is stimulating the other and then he alternates.
"Shit, Issei, fuck, please." Your words have no thoughts behind them, your brain no longer operating, and you push him away from you before you stand up, shedding your shorts and sitting back down on his lip, a breathy moan escaping your lips when you feel his dick brush your folds.
He watches your reaction when he lightly drags his fingers back and forth across your folds, and you whine as you grip at his shoulders. "Please don't tease, Issei, c'mon," you beg, and your eyes look at him when you hear him laugh.
"Oh, now you don't like teasing? Maybe I should just keep teasing you and not give you what you want," he proposes, and you shake your head as you rub against his fingers, trying to get some release. He looks down, seeing your folds shining with your juices, a huge strand falling onto his fingers and he holds back a moan. "You're soaked, Y/N, all this for me?" he questions, and you nod your head vigorously.
"Yes, Issei, it's all for you, just please touch me," you plead and he shoves two fingers inside your pussy, making you release a loud moan as you lean your head in the crook of his neck. You can hear the squelching sounds as he fingers you, and you dig your nails into his shoulders as you feel him stretch you out on his thick fingers. "Issei," you start, but a loud smack echoes through the room, and you let out a whine as you feel your ass cheek sting.
"That's not my name, sweet girl. I think I've let you get away with it for long enough, don't you think?" he whispers in your ear and his voice sends a tingle right down to your core, making you clench around him. "Come on, baby, you know what it is." He stops moving his fingers, and you whimper against his neck, trying to move, but his grip on your hip keeps you still. "Say it, pretty girl."
"Daddy, please, don't stop," you sigh out, and you can feel him smile in satisfaction as he continues his fast pace, and you cry into his neck at the sudden movement. "Please, oh, please."
"It's okay, tell Daddy what you want," he coos, and he pushes onto your clit with his thumb, and you arch into him, his fingers a stark contrast to his other hand that's rubbing soothing circles on your hip.
"I need--" You cut yourself off with a scream when he pushes against that spongy spot inside of you.
"Tell Daddy what you need, baby."
"I need you inside me, please." He adds another finger, and you grip his wrist as he curls his fingers inside of you, nailing your g-spot with ease.
"I don't know if you deserve all of that," he responds, and you whimper as you lift your head to look at him. "If I recall, you've been nothing but a tease, no?" You shake your head immediately as you try to move your hips again but failing, his grip still strong on your hip.
"Please, Daddy, I'll be a good girl, just please, I need you so bad." You're so desperate, and that gives Mattsun a thrill; seeing someone who usually knows just what to say to him, reduced to nothing but a begging mess on top of him.
"Well, since you're begging so nicely," he approves, removing his fingers, and you lift your hips up eagerly as you look down, seeing that he's fully hard again, the tip leaking precum. He guides his shaft into you, and you let your head fall back as you feel him stretching you open the best way possible. He groans as he feels your walls tightening around him, and you look down to see that he's still not all the way in, your legs starting to burn from the position you're in.
"Come on, baby, just a little bit more for me. Can you do that for Daddy?" he purrs, soothingly caressing your thighs, and you rest your head against his as you watch the last of him disappear inside of you. "Holy shit, you feel so good. Goddamn, baby," he sighs out, letting you adjust. "I'm gonna move, okay?"
You nod quickly, and you brace yourself as you feel him lift you up before slamming you back down, making you cry out, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside of you. He kisses you roughly, swallowing all of the noises you make as he continues to ram himself inside of you. You pull away as you feel the knot in your stomach starting to tighten.
"I'm close, ah, please don't stop," you cry out, and you feel his fingers digging into your hips, you're sure that there's going to be bruising. "Right there, please, Daddy, right there."
"I got you, baby girl, I got you." His finger finds its way to your clit, rubbing harsh, fast circles, and your orgasm snaps, making your arch your back and scream his name. The sight of your coming undone in front of him and the way your clenching around him, makes his orgasm crash into him right after you. "Fuck!" He fucks you through both of your highs, stopping when you whine at the sensitivity.
You lean forward, body going limp as you catch your breath, both of your bodies covered in a layer of sweat. "You know I'm not done with you yet," he tells you, and you don't get a moment to respond before he's lifting you off of him, and you land on your stomach with a soft thud. He brings your hips up, your back arching instinctively, and he groans at the sight of you.
He prods a finger at your hole, and you whine, trying to move away from his touch, but his grip on you makes it useless. He runs his hands over your ass, squeezing the globes in each hand. "This ass has been teasing me ever since you got here." He spreads your cheeks, getting a good look at your puffy, swollen hole.
"I know it has, it was fun to see you flustered," you respond, your words muffled by the couch, but still clear to Mattsun, and he smiles mischievously as he lifts a hand up, smacking your ass, and he watches it jiggle, the sight mesmerizing as you mewl at the sudden pain.
"That's for bending over in front of me." He smacks the other cheek. "That's for grinding on me." Another smack. "That's for the ice cream." You can feel the heat coming off your ass when he smacks it for a fourth time. "That's for the syrup." You can tell that he's loving this, but you can't say that you aren't, you just hope he doesn't see that. He does it again, and you hiss at the pain, but the pleasure wins out. "That's for walking around here practically naked."
He massages the heated mounds of flesh, and you know he's found you out when you feel him spread them followed by a cocky laugh. "You liked that a lot, huh?" He toys at your hole again, watching your juices gush out, and you wiggle your hips a little. He sticks his fingers in, pulling it out with his fingers covered in your slick, and he groans when he puts them in his mouth. "Fuck, you taste good."
"Are you gonna fuck me or what?" you snap, and you hear him chuckle as he runs his the head of his length across your folds to your hole.
"Now, is that any way to talk to your Daddy? I thought you were gonna be a good girl?" he taunts as he teases your hole, and you exhale forcefully as you give in.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. Please fuck me," you say, and he smiles as you feel him start to push into your hole.
"You're gonna be a good girl? No more being a brat?" he asks, and if you could, you would stomp your foot because he's dragging this out.
"I promise, Daddy. I'll be good." Liking the sound of your answer, he lines himself up, hands resting on your hips, and you scream when he rams into you, your body still sensitive from the first earth-shattering orgasm you had. He doesn't give you time to recuperate as he rears back, slamming into you again, keeping a relentless pace that hits your spot with accuracy.
Mattsun watches your ass shake with the impact, and you both can hear his balls slapping against you as you feel your orgasm approaching quickly. He pulls you up by your hair, pulling your back flush against his, keeping his persistent pace. You share a sloppy kiss as his hands come up to play with your nipples, and you whimper into his mouth, and he groans when you clench around him.
"You gonna cum? Huh?" he sucks on your tongue as he brings a hand down to your stomach, and he brings your hand up to your stomach, and you can feel the bulge which makes you release a broken moan. "Who's making you feel this good?"
"Y-You are, Daddy," you barely manage to answer, and he slides his hand down until he's pressing onto your clit, making the knot in your stomach come closer to snapping.
"You wanna come on Daddy's cock? Huh?" he asks, and you nod easily, your hands finding their way into his hair. "Then do it," he spits. "Cum on Daddy's cock like the filthy slut you are." He gives a firm push on your clit, and that coil snaps hard, your eyes screwing as you scream out his name, your back arching as your hands clamp down on his hair.
He keeps bucking into you, your pussy almost stopping him from moving from how hard you're clamping down on him. "Shit, fuck," he swears, his thrusts losing rhythm and getting sloppy. The last time you clamp down on him, makes him see stars as he cums hard, painting your walls white before you both collapse on the couch, heaving breaths coming from the both of you.
He wraps his arms around you as he turns you both over, keeping himself still sheathed inside of you. "Holy shit. That was, oh, my God," Mattsun comments, and you laugh tiredly as you smile, your eyes starting to close.
You're about to drift off when you hear the door slam. "What the fuck?!" You and Mattsun both freeze, your gaze slowly drifting to the door to see a very confused and pissed Makki standing at the door. Mattsun quickly grabs the blanket draped over the back of the couch, putting it over the two of you.
"It's, uh, it's not what it looks like," you try, and Makki just blinks at you.
"Man, I wish I could say I'm sorry, but I'm really, really not," Mattsun speaks up, and you cover your smile with your hand as you hold back your laugh.
"Love you, too--" Your words are cut off by Makki leaving and slamming the door behind him. You and Mattsun both laugh for a bit before you finally quiet down. "He's so going to kick me out," you say, and you hear Mattsun chuckle against your neck.
"Well, if he does, there's always my place."
BONUS:
Mattsun rubs your shoulders as you lean back against him, the warm water soothing the ache in your muscles, mostly your legs and backside. He had brought you water and a tray of fruit before getting in the tub behind you, fatigue catching up to you as you relax against him. "I was serious about the chance of Hiro kicking me out," you joke quietly as you cuddle further into his wide frame.
He laughs softly as he runs a finger up and down your arm. "And I was serious about you staying at my place. You're not getting away that easily." He looks down at you, and you smile widely as you lean up to kiss him, him meeting you halfway. "Makki might not talk to me for a while though," he speaks up after he separates his lips from you, and you snort as you snuggle back into his chest.
"Ah, he'll be fine."
A/N: Bro the whole numbers thing was so hard for me to come up with lmao, but I think y’all can see how much I love this man, and how much I want him TO ROCK MY SHIT, but that’ll never happen sadly, but like I feel like he would be the best at aftercare in my opinion
#matsukawa x reader#issei matsukawa x reader#matsukawa x black!reader#matsukawa x fem!reader#issei matsukawa#matsukawa issei#matsukawa smut#mattsun smut#aoba johsai#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#hq!!#hq#haikyuu!! smut#haikyuu smut#hq!! smut#hq smut
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Trial (4)
Summary: harry and y/n face the truth
Warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff
Word Count: 4249 words
A/N: thank you so much for supporting this series !! @devilinbetweenthesheet-s. I will do the taglist later in the day :)
EDIT: idk why the ‘read more’ is not working. I apologize for the scrolling!!
Part 4 of the Tarnish series!
___
Harry was crying.
Admitting his feelings when he was younger was quite a task for him. Now that he was nearly in his thirties, the journey of being vulnerable with himself and with his feelings became easier with each emotion that he permitted himself to submerge in. Harry validated those emotions--he was allowed to experience them because it makes him human. It added texture to the ever-growing mosaic that painted who he was as an individual. Adding to the people that surrounded him, influenced by their kind-nature and the goodness of their heart to become who he was now.
And now, it seemed like his emotions increased tenfold. The clench of his abdomen and the harsh jolt of his chest forced his slouched shoulder to stay deflated. His breathing hitched as sobs threatened to take over, throat sore with the effort to keep it all in because Harry was smart enough to know that these emotions coursing through him right now were ones he wasn’t validated to feel. Paired with the latest information that that little girl being held by another man was his own daughter--and that the woman who was glowing with her caring, motherly-instincts was supposed to be his family; it broke him completely.
Quaking thoughts circled his brain and punctured his muscles as if they were attacking him not only mentally, but physically as well in exchange for his past mistakes that he couldn’t quite place if he deeply regretted or not. Was it a mistake to cheat on Y/N? To leave her alone in the exposure of the public eye while she was carrying his child in her tummy?
Harry should have known the day she fell sick and vomited in their kitchen sink. He was, sadly, too busy throwing a subdued celebration of finally having time alone with Camille. He should have noticed the way her face brightened with radiance. Or the way her cravings for strawberries and pickles either grossed her out or completely compelled her to consume more than she usually would.
But Harry guessed that that was around the time his efforts went out the window because he didn’t have to pretend to care as much anymore. Camille appeared to be his one and only. With their relationship coming so close to being revealed and Y/N having one foot out the door, Harry let fate play out the rest. Don’t get him wrong, Harry still loved Camille; that was why his slashed heart still throbbed at the sight of her watching over her little cousin, yet knowing that the topic of children was still not a card on the table.
The distress that he was feeling right now was core-shredding, heartbreaking grief that left a hole in his heart. The worst part was that Harry didn’t exactly know how to fix it or whether he even could. As he walked to his car with hands jammed into his pockets, he was grateful that the hood of his sweater hid his face and the tears sliding down the slope of his cheeks.
His senses were in overdrive, figuring out how to fix the mess he created. Wanting to run up to Y/N and ask her why she didn’t tell him, needing to feel his little girl in his arms. Pinching his skin to transfer the pain he felt in his heart because of the thought that he missed his baby’s first words, her first steps. Was it ‘dada’ that babbled out of her mouth? Did she reach out for Connor when she stumbled over nothing when she walked on stubby legs? Did Y/N mention his name to her?
“Harry!”
He kept on walking despite the hushed call of his name, assuming that it was a fan that caught sight of him and wanted a picture. Harry adores them, but now is hardly the time to fake a smile or act like his life didn’t just flash right before his eyes--quite literally.
The vehicle beeped as Harry pressed the ‘unlock’ button on his key fob, just about ready to pull the door open and shield himself from prying eyes. He flinched when a hand fell on his shoulder, “Harry,”
He looked up to find Gemma panting, resting her hand on the roof of the car, “Are you. . .alright?” Her drifting eyes inspected his face, tinted a slight pink and moist with the salty liquid dripping from his tear ducts.
Huffing in annoyance, Harry clutched the handle to let himself in. Gemma followed his actions, shutting the door and locking it. The tinted windows of the car provided a semi-private enclosure that was filled with Harry’s sniffling and Gemma’s heavy breathing, trying to catch her breath.
“H-her name is Halo,” Gemma began, gulping when Harry paused his ministrations, straining his ears to listen despite the dull thud occupying his vessels. “She’s almost two years old,”
“You said you didn’t know,” Harry’s gruff tone echoed. Gemma anxiously rubbed the ends of her palms against her jeans. “Why didn’t you tell me? You knew all this time and y’didn’t tell me,”
“I-I was--she didn’t want me--”
“Why would she tell you and not me? I’m the one that dated her,” He raised his voice with every syllable he spoke. The frustration he felt from seeing the woman he once loved living the reality they shared together, except he wasn’t anywhere in the picture and that reality was only a fantasy in his life now. “It doesn’t make sense,” He rested his forearms on the wheel, facing the car’s symbol.
“The baby is yours, Harry,”
His head quipped with speed, grazing his forehead on the rounded leather but that pain didn’t amount to the new wave washing over him. “W-what?”
“It’s really not my place to tell,” Gemma said nervously, making eye contact with Harry’s searing yet teary gaze. “She wanted to tell you but you were so happy with Camille. She was posting these things on her Instagram about your trips and Y/N called me crying because you looked so free and happy without her. Y/N didn’t want to ruin what you guys had by dropping this on you,”
"That's-that's my baby?" Harry stuttered over his words while tugging his head out of his memories. Gemma nodded in confirmation. “Then why in the world was she--Halo?--calling him ‘dada’?
“Look, Harry, you’re not stupid. You know why Halo called Connor her dad,” Gemma spoke slowly, “This is a conversation that you need to have with Y/N if she lets you,”
At the mention of the man’s name, Harry couldn’t help but be filled with anger. He barely knew this man yet he received everything that Harry wanted in life. ‘But she’s my kid. I’m her dad. I’m the one who’s supposed to give her kisses and make her laugh,” He mumbled quietly as if his inner thoughts were far too strong to be kept in his mind
He was staring mindlessly at the numbers on his dashboard, hands gripping the leather steering wheel to try and ground himself. "But if that's my baby, how can she call someone who's not her father, dad?" He whipped his head towards Gemma, searching for validation that would make him feel better but the siblings were aware that he lost that title three years ago.
“I think you know you lost that place in their lives,” She reached a comforting hand to pat his arm, feeling just how tense he was under the fabric.
Harry shrugged her off, pinching his brows and pursing his lips as sadness began to swirl down the drain only to be replaced with resentment, irritation and bitterness. The taste on his tongue was hot with anger and his ears felt warm as he wheezed air instead of opting to yell his dissatisfaction near his sister.
“This isn't fair. She's m’baby too. Connor is not her father,” He spat with venom, “I am,” A pointed finger poked his chest. "She knew she was pregnant when she left me. She’s so fuckin’ selfish. How could she do this to me?
Gemma was quick to remind him of his actions, "You cheated on her, Harry.” Gemma cowered back at Harry’s beady eyes glaring at her with an unreadable emotion, stone-cold. “Maybe you should go home. Calm down a little bit,”
“No!” Harry cut Gemma off, “Need t’a hear her say it myself,”
Harry didn’t know what his plan was when he harshly slammed the car door behind him, practically storming on the patches of grass like a mad man. It wasn’t hard to spot the picture-perfect family sitting on a park bench which brought a scowl to his shielded face. He wanted to give Y/N a piece of his mind and it wasn’t necessarily the nicest thoughts that crossed his brain.
Halo was sitting on Connor’s lap while he was feeding her a peeled cupcake. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting—-Harry felt like he was punched in the gut. The baked good was Y/N’s specialty and it had a lot of sentimental value to both of them. It was what she baked for their first year together. He could vividly see her frosting-dotted nose, aiming to splotch the cream on his cheek while she laughed. Harry wrapped his arms around her, hugging Y/N from behind and proceeding to kiss her sweet cheek, leaving the perfect opportunity to stain his skin with the frosting.
But he didn’t care if he was smashed headfirst into the cake (as long as it wasn’t ice cream cake)—Harry just wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh heartily.
Y/N was snuggled on Connor’s shoulder, fixing Halo’s hair as she made grabby hands at the confection. He cannot lie--Connor was a handsome man. Harry rarely felt intimidated or insecure, but seeing that this man managed to snatch everything Harry could ever want seemingly in a blink of an eye; Harry felt very jealous.
He pouted, eyes rimmed red and lips quivering wishing that Cory or Connor--whatever that little shit’s name was would disappear so that Harry could take his place instead. Actually, it was his spot in the first place. Only if he didn’t mess up, he thought. He missed Y/N so much! Seeing Y/N in her element of niceness and bright-gleaming smiles sent a truck full of sand down his throat as he gulped his emotion below the surface. The closer he got to them, his vision tunnelled towards Halo; brown, flouncy curls and a cute dimple embedded in her cheek as she giggled, accidentally knocking the cupcake on the ground.
If that wasn’t symbolism staring at Harry straight in the face; a sign that their so-called relationship really had no chance of reprieve. Harry chose to ignore it.
Connor clutched Halo tightly against him, crouching down with a napkin to clean up the scattered cake on the ground. Y/N was the first to notice him, her forehead creasing as her eyes bulged at the sight of Harry walking towards them. She subtly poked at Connor’s arm, hurting Harry even more because it meant that Y/N felt uncomfortable with his presence.
He was close enough to read her pink lips, “We should go,” matched with Y/N’s frantic actions of packing the juice boxes and the Tupperware of cupcakes into the tote bag beside her. Connor searched the park until his gaze landed on Harry, protectively shielding Halo from him.
Is he serious? Harry thought. That’s my own daughter.
Speaking of Halo, the two-year-old happily continued munching on her new cupcake, frowning slightly when Connor stood up, “Why we leaving, Daddy? Did I do somethin’ bad?”
Y/N sighed, they promised that Halo could play at the park all day and now it was cut short because of a certain someone.
“No, you didn’t, bub. Let Daddy explain at home, okay baby?” Connor hitched Halo higher on his hip, hoping that she wouldn’t ask any more questions until the trio left.
“Who’s that?” Halo asked, pointing at Harry only metres away from them. Her stubby finger outstretched at the stranger in front of her, eyes bright and sparkling with curiosity. There was no sign of recognition painting her green orbs.
Harry gulped, wanting so badly to scream “I’m your dad!” but he knew that Y/N will add that to the list of his mistakes he had made.
“No one, angel,” Connor planted a kiss on her head, looking over at Y/N who had finished packing everything up. He tilted his chin in an attempt to scare Harry off.
But the thing was, Harry was already scared. He could feel his stomach in his throat but vomiting wasn’t the right word to describe it. His heart drooped deeper than the levels of the Earth. He was scared because his family was right in front of him but he couldn’t touch them or hug them in his arms. He was only allowed to look from the outside because there was a small possibility of being forgiven.
“Y/N. . .” Harry began hesitantly. The surge of confidence he had decreased with each passing second. He kept a close eye.
Y/N shrugged the strap on her shoulder, “Leave us alone, Harry.”
He felt his anger disappearing, a new emotion cascading his tear ducts and the blood in his veins. Harry looked back in retrospect; she really did mean it when Y/N said that she never wanted him around again. “I just want to talk. Please, let’s talk,”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Harry,” Connor interrupted, grabbing the bag from Y/N and wrapping an arm over her shoulder, guiding them away from Harry. “She’s happy without you, mate. can’t you see?”
Harry kept his gaze trained on Y/N’s face, actively avoiding eye contact but drifted when Halo’s frown caught his stare. The little girl’s chin was hooked over Connor’s shoulder, squirming in his arms in an attempt to stop him from walking. Halo was smart enough to know that Harry’s expression screamed sadness and her mummy said that “you need to find a way to make them happy” if someone was sad.
“Wait!” Her shrill yell caused both Connor and Y/N to turn around. A piece of Harry’s heart shattered on the floor when Halo pulled Connor down by the nape of his neck, small hand leading his ear next to her lips. Then, she did the same to Y/N, pointing at Harry which caused him to straighten his stance, wanting to impress his daughter even though there was no point.
The couple shared a look before ultimately having Connor walk closer to Harry. Halo gripped her cupcake towards him, “‘ere y’go hawwy,’ She still couldn’t pronounce her ‘r’s’ yet.
Harry began to sob.
It was his daughter and those were the first words she had uttered to him. She didn’t know him yet Halo treated him with kindness and it ripped at his chest because Y/N must’ve taught her that. His palms became wet as tears streamed from his eyes, dampening the sleeves of his hoodie. He didn't care about looking foolish in front of them, not when his daughter saw him as a stranger and called Connor her ‘dada’.
Halo recoiled at the sudden reaction, her lips curving downwards, “Dada, mama, he’s cwyin’,” She tucked her face at the junction of Connor’s shoulder and neck, scared that she made him cry. Halo didn’t mean to make him cry. She felt so guilty that she started spilling tears of her own too, her face contorting into a scrunched expression as her mouth wailed open sobs, matching Harry’s.
Harry’s first instinct was to take a step forward and comfort Halo but he was rendered frozen when Connor shot him a glare, shifting Halo’s body out of reach and he could only see her face over the man’s shoulder. Y/N dimmed her eyes, brows pinching when she couldn’t help but let a smidge of sympathy wash over her. She muttered a few words to Connor, pushing him by the small of his back towards the parking lot.
When they were out of earshot, Y/N faced Harry, “What were you thinking? Are you trying to mess everything up again?” He tried to cut in, “Isn’t it bad enough that we’re talking about this in public? Why must you ruin everything, Harry?” She whisper-shouted, trying her best not to garner them any attention.
“N-no, Gemma told me and I jus’ wanted to see her--and you. Wanted to hear the truth come out of your mouth,” His large hands jammed into his pockets to prevent him from fiddling with them.
“Look, you have no right coming here,”
“I know that b-but I--,”
She held a palm up, “I’m not sadistic like you Harry. If you thought that I wouldn’t let you around her then you’re wrong. As much as I hate to admit it, I do miss you and I wish that you were there for us when we needed you,”
“I had no idea--,”
“Will you let me speak?” Her tone carried irritation. “But we’re alright now and we don’t need you anymore.”
Harry never thought that those statements would ever come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Don’t you think I deserve to get to know her?”
She sighed, “Deserve? Definitely not.” He nodded in agreement. “But I’d live in regret if Halo never got to know her real father. . .”
Harry’s expression lit up, hopeful eyes shooting glances at her, “D-does that mea--? Are you--?”
“You can see her. You can get to know her but only because you’re Halo’s father,” Y/N took a brave step forward, ignoring the way her heart throbbed as if she was being stabbed by a thousand knives. Painful memories drifted in and out of her train of thought until she shook her head to muster them out. It was in the past but she could never forget the feeling of hopelessness taking over her whole body.
With a hand on his shoulder, she continued, “Anyone can be a father and you’re just that. Don’t think that you’re entitled to anything more. You will never be her dad. Connor is. Understood?”
Harry took a deep breath and swallowed a heavy gulp, “I. . .understand. Thank you, Y/N. For letting me back in when I don’t deserve it,” He glanced at the two tiny figures piling in the car. He could just imagine himself plucking little Halo into her booster seat, booping her nose as she asked for the hundredth time why she had to sit at the back and not at the front with them.
“I’m not finished,” She deadpanned, “You are going to be there for her. Not for me, not for us because our relationship is over. You can hurt me as you did before and I can accept it but don’t you dare try to hurt her,”
And it was true. Having endured his painful game once before, Y/N was stronger now. She could take heartbreak as agonizing as that but she wouldn’t dare stand seeing Halo’s teary eyes staring back at her, asking why Harry had left them. She was far too young to experience the feeling when a piece of herself is ripped apart.
“I won’t hurt her. I promise,”
“I heard those words come out from your mouth years ago and look where we are now. Once you hurt her, it’s over.”
“Y/N, t-that’s hardly fair. I am her dad, aren’t I?” Harry cleared his throat at Y/N’s raised brow.
“No, you’re not. We just went through this, Harry.”
“Don’t call me that,” He muttered quietly because she only ever called him ‘baby’ or ‘h’.
“Will you stop? I laid out my cards. If you want to even have a speck of presence in her life, then you have to abide by what I said,” She crossed her arms in defence, “You will never be Halo’s dad, Harry. Connor is her dad. I don’t know how many more times I have to repeat this before it gets through you thick head,”
He opened his mouth to talk, “No wiggle room whatsoever?”
“No. Do I have to write a letter for you to understand that?”
In a moment of hurt and despair, Harry spat out, “Might as well, yeah? Waited over two years to tell me anyway,”
“Are you kidding me?”
His throat ran dry, realizing that he just ticked another box to favour against being a part of his daughter’s life, “I-I’m sorry. I didn't mean to,”
“Whatever. Are you willing to make the sacrifice?”
“This isn’t the place to talk about this,” Harry suggested, wanting to have some sort of foot on the ground so he doesn’t feel like he’s topping over with guilt and sadness. “Maybe you can come over to my house,”
Y/N shook her head, glancing briefly at her phone when it buzzed, “No. I will not step foot in that house again. If you really want to discuss it, you can come over at our place,”
“Your place?” Did they all live together? Well, that was another slap to the face. Not only was Connor playing dad to Halo, but he was also part of the household. Harry’s face must have contorted into a grimace because Y/N sighed softly.
“Yes, our place. Meaning all three of us,” She gestured behind her. “I have to go. You can probably get my number from Gemma; you can text me then.”
“Yes, yes! Of course, I want to talk to you. . . about this, I mean,” Harry lowered his enthusiasm. The small voice in his head reverberating that this was not about him and Y/N; this was about Halo.
“And make sure you don’t bring anyone else,” Y/N said sarcastically, subtly pointing in the direction of the paparazzi hiding behind some bushes. Harry was usually good at spotting them but today was just a puddle of hurt and confusion. “I don’t want her having to read nasty things like I did,”
What Y/N said may have been a side comment, but Harry couldn’t help but take it to heart. Was this a good idea? Sure, he wanted to be a present dad in Halo’s life. However, is it worth it to stir unwanted drama? If only he didn’t cheat on Y/N, all of this could have been avoided.
With his mind in a haze, Harry barely noticed Y/N’s figure moving away from him. He jogged to catch up with her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. Harry felt numb to the way she shrugged her touch off of her immediately, “Were you ever going to tell me about our daughter?’
Y/N stared at him quizzically, tilting her head a little bit sideways, “I thought I did? Wait!” A look of recognition plastered across her features, “I did try to tell you but you blocked me before the message sent through,”
Harry gulped with realization. He blearily remembered bitterly blocking her number just as she texted “I need to tell you something,”
___
Y/N: Since you’re not picking up my calls
I need to tell you something
Y/N took a deep breath as her thumbs tapped on the letters slowly as if to withhold the news from him. She was not at all ready to reveal that she was pregnant and that he was the father but Y/N knew that it was the right thing to do. Despite the fact that he was currently out of the country on vacation somewhere on an island with sandy beaches with Camille. Y/N was aware that this spike of courage was rare and so, she had to do it now.
Y/N: I’m pregnant
And you’re the father
She locked the device as soon as she pressed the arrow to send the message, clutching the phone close to her chest and shutting her eyes so tightly that it hurt. Minutes passed with no response and Y/N was shouldered by curiosity to check if he had sent anything back or simply left her on ‘seen’.
It was neither. The screaming red exclamation mark surrounded by a circle indicated that she had been blocked.
___
The times when she left missed calls on his phone were for a reason much bigger than the two of them. Y/N didn’t call to beg for him back or to ask Harry to want her again. He was ashamed to admit that he had rolled his eyes upwards every time he clicked on a voicemail she had left, stating, “Hey H, it’s me. Call me back when you hear this. I need to talk to you,” which he deleted without a second thought. She didn’t text him endlessly to politely ask for her things packed and settled for her pick-up because Y/N could not bear to spend another second in a room with him.
It wasn’t that at all.
Y/N was physically moving farther and farther away from him, settling herself into the car before driving off to hers and Connor’s shared house. Halo sat in the backseat, singing along to the radio.
Harry was surrounded amidst the joyful squeals of children and reprimanding voices of their parents.
He stood alone with no one but loneliness by his side and the brisk flash of cameras in his peripherals.
_____
Let me know what you thought!
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Permanent Taglist: @splendidsunsetx @swagmoneymaya @textingharry @arypesanchez @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @mellamolayla @luviewoo
#harry styles#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles writing#harry styles x you#harry styles blurb#harry styles drabble#harry styles fanfic#harry styles series#harry styles angst#harry styles x y/n
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Nothing to Despair | Preview 1 / Work In Progress
PAIRING: Soft!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Bucky and a girl he never met before are asked, because of their language skills, to go undercover as married on a two-week mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, and notices his partner feels similarly isolated. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily persuaded.
RATING: it's pretty naughty but there's no bad words so Idk
WARNINGS: None, just softness and kissings and the hint of unrequited love
WORD COUNT: 2K
A/N: I'm currently working on something new, and as it might be a W H I L E until it's ready to post, I thought I'd share a snippet to tide you over. Now, the rest of it is only partly done, but I’ll just say I made myself cry while writing it. You’re all going to suffer, it’s gonna be GREAT. It starts soft and angsty but it will get very dark and smutty. On that note, do let me know if you’d like to be tagged once the full thing is published. It’s gonna be also on AO3 anyway.
Enjoy! :D
While he waited in his room for her to finish getting dressed, he was actually grateful to see Steve had texted him. Bucky read the message in passing then called without thinking.
"Hey, bud." came Steve's voice, happy but surprised and sounding just a bit tired. "Was afraid I wouldn't catch you in time."
"Hi, no, we were just about to go out."
"You ok? Sound a bit—"
"Everything's fine, Stevie, don't worry. So what's this club you mentioned?"
"Wanted to let you know about a little place SHIELD found out about. A few of your favorite people been making appearances, thought you'd be interested."
"Is that right… Where is it?"
"Not far from the hotel, I'll give you the address."
They sat through the first portion of presentations in a shared silence that was common but heavier than usual. She was as effortlessly nice to him as before any of their little fights, but distant, always distant underneath the smooth pleasantries.
They went for the lunch break with everyone else, and with every opportunity, Bucky kept his eyes on Hamelin. He was talking with the lady from Spain again and sitting more closely than usual. He'd seen him have lunch with a few of the other attendees as well, but she seemed to be his most frequent companion.
As they were about to part, Hamelin passed her a note so surreptitiously as to seem a handshake, but Bucky noticed. They left together, and as they passed the great big doors of the restaurant, Hamelin went in the usual direction of the auditorium, while the woman went a different way. From Steve's call that morning, Bucky had an idea of where that might be, and knew better than to miss the opportunity.
The girl was just finishing her meal, sitting in silence across from him. He thought about tailing the lady on his own, but the idea of leaving his partner in the same room as Hamelin, even with all the other conference goers, didn't sit well with Bucky. He paid for lunch, and as they walked out together he led them toward the lobby.
"A little side-trip." he smiled at her confusion. She wasn't surprised by that anymore, and went along as always.
"What is this?" she asked as they approached a decrepit looking building, not a ten minute walk from the hotel. It looked utterly uninhabited, but a lit stairway leading down betrayed its use.
"Just checking something out." he said as he led them onward, one arm secured on the small of her back.
They went through a rusty looking door at the bottom of the stairway, a squeak announcing them to a few shadowy figures ahead. People looked at them then turned away in disinterest, minding their own business. The faint sound of jazz floated through the corridor, and red lights lit the way forward.
They arrived inside what was a sort of dance-club, mellow and warm and smoky. A few patrons gathered around old wooden tables, some sitting at a dirty wet bar; a pianist and singer performed slowly on the small stage up front.
Bucky scanned the place, not seeing anything suspicious yet, if you didn't count the clandestine nature of the whole thing. Heavy red curtains decorated the walls, and beyond some he could just about see doorways. He held the girl closer to himself, just in case, and heard her wince in disgust as she spotted some of the couples grinding against each other in the dark.
"What are we doing here?" she whispered into his shoulder.
"Just stick close to me, honey." he smiled down at her, pulling her more possessively to him.
He led them to one of the empty tables in a red-cushioned alcove, stained with alcohol sprinklings and cigarette ash, from where he could easily watch the entrance.
"I'm gonna go get us some drinks. Will you be ok here a minute?" he asked as she sat down and took her jacket off.
"Yes, yes." she sighed.
"Ok…" Bucky smiled, and right before he left remembered to ask "By the way, what would you like?"
She thought for a second, and decided "Absinthe, please."
"Bit strong for you, isn't it?"
"I'll need a good disinfectant for this place." she smirked.
Bucky grinned, then went to the bar.
He was back soon enough with drinks for the both of them, and sat beside her to scan the place. He held her close to him, one arm flung around her shoulder, the other resting on his glass of gin. Nobody bothered or approached them, or even looked their way much; discretion seemed to be the rule of the place.
The girl sipped her drink, melting slowly into his side as it soothed her nerves, though she still regretted it every time she looked up and saw something she didn't like.
They were there for a quarter of an hour before sharp footsteps echoed from somewhere to the left, almost unnoticeable underneath the music. Bucky followed the sound to one of the far walls, and sure enough a figure passed through the curtains, almost as if materialising from the dark. It was the Spanish lady, looking rather nervous and out of place as she walked with another man who was older and broader, with a professional look to him. He led her out, and several minutes later came back to disappear the way he'd come, through the curtains.
The girl noticed it too, and looked up at Bucky suspiciously. Catching her gaze, he shrugged with a smile and instantly she knew they had work to do.
He led them across the room, toward the walls, walking along inconspicuously as they made for the entrance they'd seen. The heavy material parted for them to reveal a hallway, dark and very cold and even more poorly lit than the bar. Trash littered the corners and broken old furniture was piled up in places, waiting to be thrown away.
Wordlessly, the couple walked through hand-in-hand. They reached far enough away that the sound of music faded, where bits of graffiti, partially covered or scraped off, decorated the walls under the flickering lights. Some drunk was passed out on the floor, his legs sprawled across the way. Bucky and the girl stepped over him and went on, and met another pair a bit further, cuddled together on the ground as they fiddled with a package between them.
Finally, they reached a corner the led on to a more well lit path. Bucky and the girl looked at each other and quietly agreed to go on together. They didn't make it a few feet until he stopped her, Bucky just barely making out some voices through the walls. Three men, by the sound of it, speaking in Russian. They talked about payment, one week or two, verification, doubts, and counter-offers.
When Bucky heard their voices draw further, then closer again, he started moving the girl back and going the way they came. The men were coming out, and were bound to find them.
She didn't seem too frightened, following his lead obediently, and that gave him a bit of courage to try and find out more. Stepping past the dizzy drunks and vagrants, Bucky stopped them both in the middle of the hallway.
"They're going to see us." she whispered with worry.
"I know, but we gotta get into their office." he said, looking at the far end of the hall. The men should come through any second.
"But if they catch us…"
"They're not gonna catch us, doll." Bucky pulled her closer as he stuck his back to the wall, his metal arm covering the length of her spine securely, black glove holding the back of her neck.
They both looked with concern at the shadows lengthening around the corner, and in a heartbeat Bucky made his decision.
"Kiss me." he whispered, turning his burning gaze down toward her.
"What?"
"Come on, kiss me."
"I can't." she choked, looking up pleadingly into his eyes. "I can't, I can't…"
Just as the far off voices announced the near arrival of the men, Bucky took her face gently in his hand and pulled it up to him, turning it just slightly enough that his lips caressed the corner of her mouth. From the side, it looked good enough to pass for the real thing. His other hand went to her leg and hooked it up around him, fingers curled around her thigh and caressing its inside from underneath, raising her skirt enough to flash the red lace trimming of her slip, the edge of her stocking, and those naughty black garters.
She gripped his lapels to hold on, fearful but tight enough to seem passionate, and she pressed herself against him. She closed her eyes tightly, and even in the shadow of all the other feelings — more erotic, more sensual, frantic — Bucky most of all relished the gentle tickle of her lashes against his cheek.
He held on to her and she to him, shocked under his kiss — that wasn't a full kiss, as much as he could make it, and she was grateful to him for at least that. She grounded herself on the hard planes of his body, broad and heavy as a wall but radiating with a furnace-like heat against her chest and stomach and all the way down between her legs. His mouth caressed the side of hers in tender waves, warm and damp and surprisingly soft, while the tips of his fingers stroked the inside of her leg.
Her hands let go of his lapel for the second it took to grip onto his shoulders, pulling herself even closer and hiding in his body as the men passed them by. Bucky held her tighter and tilted his head just enough to look through the corner of his eye at the back of them, while his fingers caressed her skin with a mind of their own. The men were far enough away and soon were out of sight, going through the curtain and out into the jazz club. He closed his eyes and swallowed a moan, in disbelief at just how hot and soft her thigh could be, and as his fingers crawled upward toward an even deeper warmth, Bucky felt her tense and tremble, and he let her go.
Her leg slinked its way back to the ground while he lifted his lips from her, and as they slowly let each other go they were hit again by the coolth of the corridor. Bucky steadied her, and himself, with a hand on her shoulder, and searched her blushing and avoidant face.
"You good, doll?" he rasped, feeling as winded as she looked.
"Yeah…" she gasped into his chest. Above and unseen by her, he licked the remnants of her taste from his lips and swallowed greedily, while the girl brushed a dry hand across her mouth to wipe him away. "Let's hurry, before they come back."
It was an easy enough job for Bucky to break into their office, though he took his time to pick the lock as quietly as possible and mindful of any alarm triggers.
He gave her one of the two small flashlights he carried in his pocket, and they started looking through the messy old place, sifting through files and folders and open drawers. None of it felt right, those didn't seem like the sort of guys to leave stuff just lying around. And sure enough, inside a stocky wooden dresser, nailed into the bottom of it, was a compact safe. Bucky called the girl over, and she held a light for him while he looked it over.
It had a number of dials and buttons, and the metal didn't seem so thick that he couldn't break it open, but he didn't want to be too obvious about their intrusion. Bucky felt around the edges of the box, and considered picking it open before he noticed an even safer entry point.
He looked at the girl with a cocky smile, and she raised a brow at him.
"Another shoe?"
"Hairpin this time, darlin'."
She sighed and pulled one from her hair. Carefully, Bucky stretched and twisted it into an L shape, then pushed it through a small hole in the corner of the box while he kept pressure on the dial that opened it. He didn't have to twist it around much until the lock was opened from inside. With no risk of picks scratching or breaking the keyway, there would be no hint it was ever opened.
"You know, if we decided on a career as burglars, we could live like kings." she whispered with amusement.
"Don't temp me." Bucky grinned.
He sifted through the safe's contents, pulling out folders and stacks of cash in various currencies. The papers were in multiple languages, including the local one, but they didn't have time to go through it all. They decided to risk it and take the folders with them, which Bucky hid at his back, beneath the jacket. It wasn't until they were back out into the club that the girl remembered she'd left hers behind.
They went back to their seats but couldn't find it anymore, and the bartender said he hadn't noticed anything. It didn't have pockets nor any identifiable mark, so they weren't too worried about its loss. They gave up on it quickly and went back to the hotel.
#Bucky Barnes#Bucky Barnes imagine#Bucky Barnes fanfiction#Bucky x reader#Bucky Barnes x reader#Bucky x you#Bucky Barnes x you#Bucky x OFC#Bucky Barnes x OFC#Winter Soldier fanfiction#Winter Soldier x reader#James Buchanan Barnes#The Winter Soldier#Winter Soldier#Bucky Barnes fluff#mcu fanfiction#bucky x reader fluff#bv;fanfiction#Nothing to Despair#the context may or may not make sense but hang in there#also there's a reason why she's so distant#it's gonna be explained in the full fic eventually#but basically I'm writing an insecure-avoidant attachment style#because I see no reader or even OFC fics with divergent attachment styles and it's a shame#of course Bucky doesn't REALISE this is why she keeps away from him ahahaha cue unbelievable amounts of suffering
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dearest comfy <3 what if Triss was a blacksmith AND Eskel was a blacksmith??? What then?? Enemies to lovers maybe? <3
Ellie. I love you. I love this prompt. And I love Trisskel. This is a triple threat of wonderfulness. Hopefully the fic delivers 💖💖
Warnings: no violence, some hostile Triss (mostly internal), lmao is this considered idiot and exasperated to lovers? idk you tell me, its pretty chill tbh, unless you don’t like daggers. there's lots of daggers.
_____________________
Triss was furious.
She had spent her whole life stoking a furnace, shadowing her father, sweating, suffering burn after burn and later cut after searing cut as she learned to forge all sorts of weaponry. Now, this teddy bear-shaped child was setting up shop in her courtyard?! Unacceptable. Unbelievable! She’d staked a claim on her territory for market day early. So early she hadn’t even made her first blade. Her father still had her hammering out decorative discs and fastenings for armor.
One of her customers had the audacity to call him ‘cute’ to her face.
He was no more than twenty-five, tall and stocky like most people expected of a blacksmith, but they claimed there was a softness about him. Triss remembered that softness well, before loss and responsibility really set in. What others saw as sweet, boyish charm she saw as a weakness.
She sent her assistant to assess his booth, maybe flirt and ask some questions, and was even more annoyed when they came back.
“He’s young but he’s not inexperienced. His blades are good. So is his uh… customer service.”
Triss rolled her eyes, “What kind of weapons was he selling? I don’t care about his looks. I have breasts.”
Her assistant shrugged and described his table.
That following week she put in double the hours at her workshop, put the extra flourish on every piece, perfected every detail until her arms ached and her head pounded. She often forgot to drink water, let alone eat, when she got worked up, so her assistant brought her meals.
When the next market day came, she proudly displayed her new wares.
And if she took her hair out of the usual braids and unbuttoned her blouse a bit lower than last week, who would be brave enough to point it out?
This time the newcomer had the gaul to visit her booth.
“Good morning, Miss Merigold,” he dipped in a bow of respect before she even turned around to greet him, straightening up and disarming her with a lopsided grin, “My apologies, I meant to introduce myself after last week’s market. But you were far more efficient at break-down than I.”
She wouldn’t have called him cute by a long shot. He was downright handsome.
Then she remembered they were rivals. There would be no fraternizing with the enemy.
It took her a moment to gather her wits before she responded, “Good morning. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”
She knew.
Of course she knew. But he was far better looking than she had assumed, his scars only adding to his alluring presence, and she needed to feel like she had the upper hand.
His smile grew a bit sheepish, “Eskel of the Blue Mountains. I’m your new neighbor… sort of,” he offered his hand over her table and she took it, hoping her hesitation wasn’t too obvious.
“Welcome. I hope the city is treating you well?”
“Well enough,” he acquiesced, letting go of her hand after a moment, “To be truthful, I haven’t left my forge much at all. I’m still getting used to her. But you know how that goes.”
Triss raised her eyebrows and plastered an over-polite smile on her face, “I must say I wouldn’t. I inherited my forge from my father. I learned with her. We get along quite well.”
Eskel was called by someone from his booth as he made to speak. He waved at them to wait a moment and turned back to Triss with a wink, “Well if you have any relationship advice, let me know.”
Before she could think of a polite but not too friendly response, he was gone.
She turned back to her assistant in a huff, “He’s infuriating.”
“He’s dreamy.”
“Hush,” she snapped, pointing to her sketch pad, “Hand me that. Call for me if there’s a large sale or a problem.”
She sketched and planned half the day away. But when she realized how much the materials for her plans would cost she adjusted her cleavage and left her tent. Someone had to drive the hard bargain around here, and she knew her assistant was too kind.
The next week she arrived with a beautiful set of delicate-looking throwing knives, a few different ornate daggers, and a sword fit for a king alongside her typical, practical items. However, she was seeing more than just her flowing hilt designs inlaid with etchings.
Eskel seemed to have had a similar idea.
She wandered past his booth, pretending to buy fabric from the stall next to him, and fumed. It seemed Eskel had a sharper eye than she’d anticipated. He very clearly mimicked her setup and emphasized the smaller wares like she did. He even had the same sign in three different languages about customizations and bulk orders.
This had become all out war.
When her sword sold that day she decided to finish off the dozen or so she had laying in wait for specific orders over the week. She even detailed a breastplate to match for three of them, guessing at the size in reference to the sword as best she could. As she worked she mulled over her new competition. His soft golden eyes that crinkled ever so slightly when he smiled were absolutely aggravating. At least that’s what she told herself. It was simply her competitive nature that had her fixating on this mountain of a man.
She returned the next week with a spread so large she could barely fit it on her table.
Eskel had come back with daggers inlaid with precious stones of dazzling pale blue and sparkling greys and whites. Blue Mountains indeed.
Polite customers started mumbling comparisons to themselves while the brash ones outwardly used the other stall to barter a better price. Every time Eskel was mentioned Triss would bristle, hold back a snarl, and turn on every bit of innocent charm she had.
She began leaving with a lighter cart and a challenging wink from her competition. Over the week she worked her fingers to the bone over fine details and getting the balance absolutely perfect.
After months of competition, months of uncomfortable eye contact, she finally broke when he sold a matching helmet, breastplate, and dagger to one of her most loyal customers.
“Eskel. We need to have a word,” she marched right up to his tent, hands tucked into her half apron at her waist.
He smirked, “That all?”
She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “We can’t keep making the same things.”
“Pretty daggers and ceremonial armor? Why not?” he mimicked her, folding his massive arms over his own chest, leaning back against his table, making him just a little bit taller than Triss rather than the usual towering over her.
She rolled her eyes and stepped a little closer, “We’ve both done well, or I’m assuming you have, but eventually all the nobility this side of the canal will have been sold to. We’ll have saturated the market and be left with an armory full of ornate weaponry with no one to buy it.”
“Preserving the market means one gets to keep said market.”
Triss nodded but Eskel seemed unimpressed.
“And how would you suggest we settle who keeps it?” he raised an eyebrow at her and she just wanted to smack the smug look off his face. Or kiss it. She really wasn’t sure anymore.
She scrambled for a moment, not having entirely thought this through, “A competition.”
He stood to full height and sighed, “What are the terms?”
“One dagger. Same price. Whoever sells first gets the market. The other has to branch out or move.”
Eskel nodded and held his hand out, “Agreed.”
Triss went to take his hand but he gripped her forearm, his whole hand covering much of her elbow. She did her best not to think about how strong his arm felt in her grasp, how when she squeezed she felt a gentle give before she hit muscle.
He winked at her as he released his grasp and turned back to work, “See you next week Merigold.”
Triss worked on a single dagger all week.
She couldn’t get Eskel’s stupid cocky smile or his tanned arms out of her head. The way he looked down at her with that condescending smile enraged her. Her assistant claimed he looked more fond than condescending, but Triss only narrowed her eyes and shook her head. She’d been raised in the marketplace. She knew exactly how men viewed her.
In the end, her dagger looked very fitting for a man like him. Broad, sturdy, a bit curved at the tip, and simply yet elegantly decorated. She cooled it in a liquid mixture her father had made and kept secret, giving the blade a finish similar to copper, but with all the strength of steel.
If she noticed the coincidence she stubbornly ignored it.
Eskel was already set up and waiting when she arrived at the market. She spared him only a curt nod while she set up her booth as if preparing for battle.
He sauntered over to her before dawn had officially broken, blade in hand with what Triss might guess to be a nervous expression.
“Good morning, Merigold,” he cleared his throat and set the dagger currently wrapped in cloth on the table between them, “What have you for our little competition?”
Triss proudly pulled the dagger she had made from her case, handing it over by the hilt as she spoke, “Good morning, Eskel.”
He took the blade and hummed as he inspected it, whispering, “It’s beautiful...”
She wasn’t prepared for such a genuine compliment. Nor was she prepared for how much she loved hearing that word fall from his lips.
“Th-thank you.”
Eskel handed it back before unwrapping his.
Triss almost had to catch her breath. It was gorgeous, gracefully curved, a turquoise stone grip bordered by an ornate handguard. The part that really got her though was the engraving on the blade. She stepped out and around the table to catch more of the sunlight to see what it was and gasped. Little jasmine flowers were etched into the flat of the blade.
She looked up at him in awe, “Why jasmine?”
He gave her a crooked smile, rubbing the back of his neck, “You, ahm- your perfume. It is jasmine right?”
She tilted her head and really looked at him since the first time she met him, “You noticed my perfume?”
“It’s nice,” he shrugged, stuffing his hands in his leather apron pockets.
Triss thought about all the winks and the ‘good mornings’ and compliments. She’d thought they were just to get her buttered up, but maybe she’d been a little harsher than she needed to.
“It’s stunning,” she breathed, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, not wanting to pull away from his warmth when she had to.
They were interrupted by her assistant and set a price quickly before scurrying back to their tents.
All day they would glance toward the other’s booth, but Triss was no longer checking his table. She was looking for him. His kind smile and boisterous laugh. His easy charm and especially his humility under pressure.
All day she struggled with the realization that she was just a little bit in love with her competition.
Nearing sundown she told her assistant to begin cleaning up and grabbed her coin purse before marching over to his stand once again.
“Did you sell it?” Eskel looked disappointed and she was surprised to be glad to tell him no.
“I have two things to say and I will only say them once, so listen carefully. I realize I’ve been unduly cold to you and I want to apologize. You’ve proven that you’re not only a skilled craftsman but seem to be a good man as well and you don’t deserve it. “
“Apology accepted,” Eskel grinned, leaning back on his table as he waited for her next item.
“Thank you. Now, I’d like to buy the dagger. The one with the jasmines.”
Eskel frowned, “You- you’re forfeiting?”
Triss bit her lip and forced herself to look him in his honey gold eyes, “Yes. Though I hope we can both agree to stay where we are? I think I might miss you if you leave.”
He grinned and pushed off the table, standing just inches from Triss now that he was upright. His hand hesitantly brushed a stray curl out of her eyes as he leaned closer, hesitating to give her time to leave if she wanted, before he brushed his lips against hers. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck as they kissed. His hands covered her back, pressing her to him and nearly lifting her off her feet.
When they parted they were gasping for breath they both wished they didn't need.
“What about a trade and a truce?”
Triss nodded, standing up on her tiptoes to plant another kiss on his lips, “And dinner.”
Eskel chuckled, “I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”
#trisskel#trisskel au#trisskel blacksmith au#triskel#triskel au#canon divergent#lol big time#triss/eskel#eskel/triss#triss merigold x eskel#eskel x triss#triss x eskel#eskel#triss merigold#NETFLIX TRISS#mainly because she's so fuckin cute and i love her#i wanna watch the lil cinamon roll commit war crimes#the witcher#the witcher netflix#netlfix triss#netflix triss merigold#the witcher fic#trisskel fic#triss x eskel fic#eskel x triss fic#eskel/triss fic#triss/eskel fic#im tagging the shit out of it i know#i just really fuckin love this ship#the witcher blacksmith au
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10:32 pm with yuta ♡
nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)
alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn
genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.
word count: 1400~
playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.
warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.
a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3
“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”
“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”
“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”
“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”
you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?
you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?
after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.
“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”
a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.
“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”
“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“
“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”
his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”
you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”
he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”
“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”
“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.
knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.
yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.
he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.
“get in, princess.”
and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.
“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.
“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”
you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.
© perhapsthanatos (efa)
#efa writes!#im on my bathroom floor LOSING IT#its 3 am & the more i read it the more i hate it#yuta#nakamoto yuta#nct yuta#nct#nct 127#nct imagines#nct 127 imagines#yuta imagines#yuta timestamp#yuta drabble#yuta blub#nct imagine#nct drabble#nct blurb#nct 127 blurb#nct timestamp#nct 127 drabble#nct 127 timestamp#nct fluff#nct 127 fluff#nct angst#nct 127 angst#badboy!yuta
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