#life has been rough but words from my greatest friends make me happy

[actuallysaiyan]

Hope you’re having a good day! Sending you some love!

Awhhh I missed this somehow! But I'm a little buzzed from having a few drinks and this honestly makes my night. Thanks for being an amazing friend.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Franco Barbi - Fluff Alphabet

Summary : Everything is fluffy under the cut ;)

info : I wanted to do a fluff alphabet after a long time and now i have it finally finished have a good fluff reading plus OMG the gif is so cute

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

A = Adoration (How does he adore you?)

°Franco loves you with all his little crippled heart, no matter how long it takes for him to see you again. Whether it's between the trials before or after, he always has a little gift for you, which is usually dried flowers, a necklace made of teeth or a special drink that he wants to enjoy with you. ═══════════════════════

B = Best friends (How would he be best friends? How would the friendship start?)

°This strange friendship would start before his time in the Trias, when he was still running around free outside. After he had run away from his father and the wounds still had to heal, he had met you at a tavern when he saw that you drank the same thing he liked and that's how you got to talking.

°As your best friend, he would, in addition to his usual brief emotional outburst, be the one who always had to crack a few jokes before using his ‘charm’ with his gun to get money and make your day together more pleasant. ══════════════════════

C = Cuddling (does he like cuddling?, how does he cuddle?)

°Franco loves cuddling, whether it's before bed, during bed, or when he's happy. If he had a new personal record of sacrifice, he would hug you for the joy of it. To feel you close to him, to have someone with him was the greatest thing for him. To have someone who loved him and didn't push him away was something he cherished.

°When he snuggles, he likes to rest his head on your chest or lean against your neck, wanting to feel and hear your heartbeat. It calms him and, above all, it reassures him that you are still alive and that all this is not a new hallucination caused by the drugs they gave him.

°,,Your heart is reassuring, darling" ══════════════════════

D = Domestic (how would he settle down? How is he at cooking and cleaning?)

°He is like a loyal little dog. If you wanted to settle down with him in your cell, he would do that. If you use the large area of his trial together, he would also take that. He doesn't care where you are, as long as you are by his side.

°Even if he is not a fan of tidy rooms, your word and your trusting look are enough for him to tidy up and take care of cleaning. But cooking – he can make all kinds of drinks, from alcoholic to none at all – otherwise, unfortunately, he is useless when it comes to the stove. ══════════════════════

E = Ending (how would he break up with his partner if they had to?)

°It was an accident. He thought the shot wouldn't go off. He was sure that there were no more bullets inside, but there you were, bleeding and already gone, while tears flowed from his eyes, not wanting to stop. Throwing his gun away in anger, he would hold your lifeless body close and hold it until even the warmth that had once been yours had disappeared.

°,,No...I'm sorry darling...come on I'm good now...don't leave me please" ══════════════════════

F = Fiance(e) (how does he feel about consent? How soon would he want to get married?

°A marriage? Franco would have already got a few rings, of course, legally, organised a priest whom he would convince with a gun and his victims, doctors, nurses and other inmates would be willing to hold a wedding for him and you at any time. It would make him very happy if you would marry him immediately... but he would also understand if you needed time. As long as he was allowed to be with you, anything was fine with the gangster.

°,,My life is yours forever and ever" ══════════════════════

G = Gentle (how gentle is he mentally and physically?)

°Mentally, he is not that gentle. He has experienced a lot and sometimes still suffers from it. His whole being is not gentle. He is rough and disfigured. Yet he would try not to let you see this dark side and would show you his cheerful side. °Physically, he is just a little gnome, a deformity, and yet he knows that you won't laugh at him when he cuddles and kisses you. He thanked you for not showing him his ugly side and therefore always insisted on wearing his suits. ══════════════════════

H = Hugs (does he like hugs? How are his hugs?)

°He loves hugs, he just loves to feel you close to him, he would love to cuddle you all day long and would be perfectly happy. His hugs are stormy and firm, of course he would let go if you said something, but he just loves to feel your body against his and will always do so. ══════════════════════

I = I love you (how quickly would he say it?)

°The first time he saw you, running around in front of his big room and he saw you through the small double-faced windows, he was simply in love. Your look, your smile, the muffled voice through the walls, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and would ever see. He would have called after you and tried to make the one small message ring where the same thing was written.

°,,I love you no on is as beautiful as you my heart" ══════════════════════

J = Jealousy (how quickly is he jealous? What does he do when he is jealous)

°He was actually flirting with you all the time, or rather, his comments, praise and kisses not only showed his love but also to others that you were together. But if he even senses the slightest hint that someone wants something from you, he either shoots at it immediately or would strike. He didn't care who it was, the main thing was that the bastard left you alone.

° ,,I think you fucker hasn't understood that the sweet cherry belongs to me, right?" ══════════════════════

K = Kisses (how are his kisses? Where does he love to kiss you?)

°His kisses are endless. He always wants more kisses, even if it feels like he's already had hundreds. There could never be enough, and most of all he likes it when he could kiss you on your lips or on the back of your hand like a gentleman. However, he liked it most when you kissed his forehead just before going to bed, because then he felt protected and safe. ══════════════════════

L = Little ones (how is he with children?)

He is not the best and would be the awkward uncle who doesn't quite know what to do with children. Initially, he was enervated and thought children were stupid, but as he became aware of how interested the little ones were in his tooth collection, he would gradually try to improve and tell them stories of brave gangs. ══════════════════════

M = Morning (How does he spend his mornings?)

°Cuddling. There would be a lot of cuddling before he got tired and grumpy as he would slowly wake up. He would need his milk to wake up slowly, but he would also appreciate it if you told him something and he could just listen. It was truly enjoyable. ══════════════════════

N = Night (how are nights spent with you?)

°The nights when they are not spent cuddling and sleeping would be spent with shared toilsome nights when you would both sit at the table together making ammunition and maybe old music would be playing on the radio, almost like being in a bar. ══════════════════════

O = Open (how quickly would he open up)

°It would take him a long time to open up. Through his patient file, you would know about everything that had happened to him, but in a quiet moment when you would be together, drinking something or lying in his crib, he would gradually open up if you asked him where he had his lupara or the various scars or his childhood. Even if it hurt him, if you held him in your arms, it would definitely make him feel better. ══════════════════════

P = Patience (how quickly is he annoyed?)

°He is very, very, very quickly annoyed and his patience is very thin... if you are not with him, it would be like a short fuse that would go off at any moment if you weren't careful. If you were with him, though, he would be calm and collected. Unless you refused to play a board game with him even though he had learned to follow the rules and hadn't killed anyone yet, then he would be more than just annoyed. ══════════════════════

Q = Quizzes (how much would he know or remember about you?)

°Franco wouldn't know much at first. It was never something he thought about much, but the longer you were together, the more he realised how he enjoyed these little facts about you: what your favourite food was, what your favourite colour was or your favourite animal. From then on, he would always write down what you liked and could use it on future dates or in other ways to make you happy. ═══════════════════════

R = Remember (what is his favourite moment in your relationship?)

°He won't forget the moment when you actually saved him when he was being dragged away from the doctors and his weapon had been taken from him. The pain had reached another level and his pain from the hospital when you followed them, took their weapon and he saw you, covered in blood, when you freed him. ,,Are you okay? you asked and yet all the pain seemed to be gone when you helped him off the table and he just hugged you and didn't want to let go when he knew that you had his heart for more than forever.

°,,You're the best thing that ever happened to me, darling." ══════════════════════

S = Safety (how protective is he? How would he protect you?)

°Very protective, he would protect you from everything, at least as far as he could. He would not let the ten guards and staff get to you, but he would try and would keep trying until he was killed or you were safe. He would protect you with his whole body, regardless of whether he was killed in the process. He had experienced enough to ensure that this would not kill him. ═══════════════════════

T = Try (how much would he invest in dates, anniversaries, gifts etc?)

°He would try to make it as romantic as possible, whether it was a late-dried rose on a table with an almost burnt candle or an old dress with a few stains. Franco was a romantic and would also try to write a poem himself, which didn't always work, but it was sweet.

°,,Well, what I actually want to say...I fucking love you" ══════════════════════

U = Ugly (what would be a bad habit of him?)

°He would be protective if doctors came to pick you up for another vaccination, operation or before a trail, he would not leave your side and would also use his lupara if necessary to protect you from uninvited guests. You should not be harmed and you belong to him.

°,,Mine! She stays with me! And anyone who tries to have her will be cut open from head to toe, understood?!" ═══════════════════════

V = Vanity (how much does he care about your appearance?)

°You could walk around naked and covered in blood and it would be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He didn't care if you were covered in dirt or blood, he loved everything about you, from the normal prisoner's uniform to the old clothes he tried to find for you.

°,,Angel, darling, mother, you are my muse" ═══════════════════════

W = Whole (would he feel incomplete without you?)

°Yes, you were more than all the others, more than his father, more than his mother and more than anything he ever had. When you're with him, he's happy and cheerful, pain-free and just glad... but if you were gone because you died or were in surgery, he would hardly be able to stand it, would be nervous, aggressive and would try to find you because he just misses something.

°,,Come back...come on sweetie come back to me" ═══════════════════════

X = Xtra (a random headcanon for him)

°He is a friend of ice cream and board games in summer when it is too hot to be in the house, he always looks forward to the portion of ice cream you got to keep from overheating. Plus, if you had a tub of ice cream with colourful sprinkles, he liked to play a good old game and even though he sometimes had a tantrum when he lost again and the dice flew through the air, he appreciated you for always being able to calm him down. ══════════════════════

Y = Yuck (what is something he wouldn't like about his partner?)

°He loves you more than anything. You are the greatest thing he has. The only thing he wouldn't like is that sometimes he doesn't know if he can give you his gun. His Lupara is more than just a memory for him and he would be a little worried that if you waved the gun around like that it might break.

°,,I-I am willing to show you how it works, I promise" ══════════════════════

Z = Zzz (what is a sleeping habit of him?)

°Franco is a light sleeper and also a deep sleeper when you are with him, lying next to him, and he can wrap his arms around you or you can hold him like a teddy bear, you can't wake him up, neither the shrill noises of the big building nor any snoring. However, he is a light sleeper when you are not with him and the slightest thing makes him reach for his gun immediately and call out to you because he wants to know that you are okay and only when he is sure can he go back to sleep.

══════════════════════

@homefander , @millie-milkshake , @youre-gonna-see-a-lot-of-me , @ramontism , @cuddlecow

[espoir-et-reves]

Hi! I wanted to tell you that I just finished part 1 and 2 of "a stranger in time dancing in flames, whispering to the stars" and I enjoyed it so, so much. The way you write the characters is amazing, and I love the way you developed them! Naruto being more mature, smarter and quick-witted thanks to finally getting a proper education and a happy childhood is a lovely way to tackle the problems he had both in the shinobi academy and life in general, and Sasuke getting to be with his clan and study the techniques they've had for centuries while training with his family and friends and turning out to be a stronger and kinder version than the one that was filled with nothing but hatred and anger is a nice change of pace from the canon's "you're weak because you lack hatred", and I love it! The characters get so much development and go through moments that are so, so rough and painful in ways that tear them apart- yet it's never the pain that makes them stronger, but the unconditional support and love that others give to them, poor Sakura is going through so much and then people think to come to her thinking that she can somehow help them with problems that kid has no way to know how to help them with (Shin ik you're in a lot of pain and I'm so sorry but Sakura is NOT the best person to help with love problems, all she got from "love" was a literal hole in her chest). It's really funny how this Sasuke DOES like her but she's completely done with him bc of the other timeline that she never even notices the signs that, when she sees on people looking at others that are not her, she immediately recognizes, which now that I think about it may also come from Sakura thinking that no one would love her the way she is now, not even in a conscious way bc of thinking that she doesn't deserve it or anything, but simply putting herself out of the possibility of ever dating anyone unconsciously because she couldn't even imagine herself being in one because of the weight the world puts on her shoulders without knowing about it (and I'm so glad she has people to talk about it, because after all she IS human and has her own limits on her mental health, and those chapters after Shisui had died that had warnings about either death or self-harm had me worrying about her so much) your fanfic has been wonderful to read, and I wanted to thank you for making something so beautifully written

Hello, and terribly sorry for the late reply.

First of all thank you so much for your kind words! I’m really glad that you’re enjoying the series and the way I’ve portrayed the characters in their new/altered circumstances 💕

Naruto, even in canon, exhibited a level of emotional strength and such kindness that honestly amazed me considering the way everyone had been treating him. In my fic that existed as well in his first years of life, but now, him being part of a loving family and having close friends way earlier only works to amplify those traits, as well as mature him in different ways than in canon. He has people to lean on, so he can be vulnerable as well, but in the same vein, having people he cares about makes him want to be stronger in order to keep them safe.

The same goes for Sasuke. And since his family was never taken away from him, he’s allowed to be the kind, considerate, loyal son, brother and friend he couldn’t be in canon. I’m basing their personalities on what we know and have seen about them. Canon Sasuke as a child was downright cute, happy, kind and a bit obsessed with his brother 😂

You are quite right about Sakura’s feelings. On one hand she’s not even considering romantic love and dating because she has the greatest mission ever resting on her shoulders, but yes, she is also feeling… not unworthy of love per se but close to that. Her whole existence in this timeline is followed by secrets and deception. Even if it’s not to hurt others, the fact remains: no one but a very select few actually know her and love her for all she is. Part of her is scared for how the people she cares about would treat her if they ever found out that she’s been lying to them their whole lives. And honestly, her friends are still in a way the ghosts of theirselves she knew in another life.

Thank you so much for reading “a stranger in time” and I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of what’s to come! Until next time 💖

[holy3cake]

Twenty Questions For Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @lord-aldhelm! :)

1. how many works do you have on AO3? 47, and some of these were absolute fever dreams lmao.

2. what's your total AO3 word count? 297,357 (some of these are multi-chapter, but my current TLK fic is set to be the longest one chapter and word wise)

3. what fandoms do you write for? This doesn't cover all of the fandoms of my AO3 because I wrote a random mixture when I was younger but my main ones currently are:

The Last Kingdom

Saw

13 Reasons Why

FNAF

I've done a few random ones like Sex Ed, Squid Game, TMR, AOTD but the ones above are the main ones I try to stick to!

4. top five fics by kudos:

Your Dreams are my Reality (FNAF)

Don't ever betray me again (Squid Game)

Take Care of me? (AOTD)

Jealousy in the Office (Saw)

One Man's Worst Week is One Man's Greatest Rescue (13RW, this is the first fic I ever wrote so it warms my heart that this is still in the top 5!)

5. do you respond to comments? Yes! If I don't respond on AO3 I respond to people on tumblr, as I tend to seek out people in similar fandoms and make the most amazing friends :)

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I meaaaan no spoilers, but In His Father's footsteps will have an angsty but happy ending. I think the angstiest one I've done so far was Runaway Bride (Saw).

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? A release of toxic masculinity (13RW) was a super sweet one to write, and ended quite happily :).

8. do you get hate on fics? Not exactly, but I have been the target of bots (unfortunately).

9. do you write smut? I used to write nothing but smut lmao and about 9/10 of my fics are smutty, but I'm trying to include a bit more plot these days, mainly as I'm not great at writing smut haha.

10. craziest crossover? Uhhh probably Saw x Titanic? It was a bit bizarre haha, but I did do a 13RW x Circus thing which was also super fun to write.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge, I really hope I haven't!

12. have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Someone asked to translate one of my Squid Games fics into a Chinese version, and I was given the link to the page. It was really nice that they asked and showed me the final product :)

13. have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope, but I do theorise/write snippets with friends sometimes!

14. all time favorite ship? Oooooh difficult one. I mean I really have only started getting into it recently but Aethelstan x Osbert from TLK have me gripped even though it's a rarepair, and Charlie and Alex from 13RW are my lifeblood.

15. what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Uhhhh there's a few lmao. There's a couple of Saw ones that I really want to get back to, but the inspiration hasn't returned just yet.

16. what are your writing strengths? I would like to say descriptions (imagery wise) and maybe light smut?

17. what are your writing weaknesses? I really struggle with dialogue even though most of my fics are dialogue heavy lmao.

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language? I don't mind reading it, but I don't write it myself. There's no particular reason I don't write it, it just hasn't come up.

19. first fandom you wrote in? 13 Reasons Why! And it helped me through a really rough patch in my life, so I'll always be intensely thankful for the people I met at that time with Chalex (@aeonwing-blog @closetfascination)

20. favorite fic you've written? I have mixed feelings about it, but I really love my FNAF one for the couple, I just felt I rushed the story a bit lol. And maybe it's just because I adore the fandom so much, but my Last Kingdom one has a GRIP on me.

My AO3, in case you're interested in any of this madness:

No pressure tags: @aeonwing-blog @closetfascination @jayalover @book-and-music-lover

@waterfallsilverberrywrites @redacted-thething @lancedoncrimsonwings @cheesyficwriter @persephones-journey @billystoilet

and anyone else that would like to participate!

I've tagged a few of my favourite writers that have been with me through the fandoms, just wanted to say an extra thank you for your works <3

[that-darn-clown]

had. a thought about Maya, Claire, and Maya's general mistrust/hatred of William ever since she met the guy.

like i've said before, while i try not to focus too much on stuff like racism in my Fnaf stuff...i also want to make it historically accurate. so-

fun fact number one!! William and Henry would've been going to college sometime in the early to mid 60s.

so y'know. Fun.

the way i imagine how Henry and William met Anna and Claire (respectively) was at a diner. but y'know. just about everything was still Segregated.

so, Henry mostly frequented the diner (and started flirting with the owner's daughter) while William stayed back at the dorm...up until William finally decided that he wanted to go out to eat. so what does Henry do? drag him to the diner.

it was...a bit awkward at first, for reasons you can probably imagine. but Henry talked about William enough that they kinda knew he was just an awkward (and pretty obviously sheltered) guy.

enter Claire Emmerson: a young ballet teacher who's having a rough time in life, who would like to be a mother, but that requires ✨marriage,✨ which is. Not a thought that excites her too much (< incredibly aromantic. not aroace. just aro). because most men she's met haven't exactly been the greatest. she just wants one guy who doesn't suck and respects her desire to both raise children but also keep her dream of being a ballet teacher alive.

so uh. William and Claire are the embodiment of the "Me and the bad bitch I pulled by being autistic" meme. who's who? unimportant.

fast forward a few years (early 1966), and William's showing up to the Emmerson household to both ask for the family's blessing and to, hopefully, propose to Claire by the end of the night. while Claire's parents were basically that one meme of "this is the guy my daughter's into. he looks a little gay, but whatever makes my princess happy <3"...Maya was a lot less happy about Claire's choice in boyfriend.

mostly because she detected William's Bad Vibes and didn't trust that shit. not with her little sister.

while she didn't exactly step in to stop the engagement or anything, she did pull William aside later that night to give him a little "talk." and by "talk," i mean she basically told William that if he were to ever mistreat Claire or any kids he happened to have with her, then she would, and i quote, "rip his dick and balls off."

a year of living together later, after interracial marriage was legalized, and William and Claire were now able to be legally married.

Maya tried to interact with William as sparsely as possible; which meant that she generally didn't talk with him or anything unless it was a holiday or on one of the kids' birthdays.

and, one day, Maya learns that her sister now has another child; a little girl that, supposedly, William "adopted."

it's when she goes there for Thanksgiving later that year, she just. has a bombshell dropped on her: Elizabeth was the result of an "affair," technically. with Henry, a man Maya had only really met in passing. he'd seemed nice enough, from what Maya could gather, anyway, but....Christ.

Maya tries getting some answers out of her sister; was she seriously okay with that? had she known the whole time?? and Claire just shrugs and goes "yeah pretty much" and...well, Maya knew Claire never really wanted to marry anyone. that her little sister viewed her own husband more as a friend than, well, a husband, and her marriage as more a "Friends With Benefits" situation. but...still.

and then, as the years go by...Claire just sounds more and more tired, more weary, and she's at her wits end with her husband. Maya helps her every step of the way with the divorce over the phone.

and then her sister dies in a car accident. were it not for the fact that it was a very public ordeal that the whole town knew about, then William would've been a dead man within the month.

Maya ends up in town for her sister's funeral. she doesn't speak a word to him, and doesn't want him to speak a word to her, either. she doesn't understand what he's not getting; flattery's not going to win her over or anything. she's never liked him, never will. she gives Mike and his siblings as much comfort as she can, and learns that...Stuff's Certainly Been Happening In Hurricane.

she gets a chance to actually sit and talk with Henry...who she learns is also grieving someone rather close to him (Charlie). she gives him her number; they might not know each other well...but she thinks they know each other well enough.

she keeps finding herself returning to Hurricane, not for holidays or birthdays anymore...but funerals. this time, her younger nephew's.

died in an accidental fire (well...they sure hope it was an accident, anyway). shook the whole town up. at an annual Halloween festival, too...

Mike hardly says a word to her the whole funeral. sure, she's heard of the...Incident just a few months ago...but the poor kid. just as he was trying to fix things...just as things were starting to look up...

so you can imagine her shock, confusion, worry, and mild rage at getting a call from Henry out of the blue in like February of 1985 just telling her that she needs to get custody of Michael, and Soon, because Something Doesn't Feel Right.

EXPLODES!!!!!!!

[gcldfanged]

whyfor have I followed thee~?: I admit, as a fellow 30+ queer transmasc human, seeing such in a fellow writer AND their muse somehow acts immediately as a draw. There is a fellow vulnerability that frequently lends to the greatest and most heartbreaking and mending creativity I've ever been priviledged to be involved in. Jae-hyo's history itself was also a draw. From his traumatic entrapment beneath his abusers, to his freedom clawed and kept primally against his scars with enough pressure to make the soul bleed-- he as a character that enthralled me from the very first. I admittedly also jumped for joy at finding another person unafraid to explore the darker aspects of fiction. For me, there is catharsis in writing the blacker shades of angst and being in control of the outcome- in putting my own creations through hell- one of my own ocs has history of being enslaved, and... you were just an amazing blog to behold.

Whyfore doth mine steps continue to dog thine shadow~?: one of the first things to catch my attention in original characters tends to be depth. do they breathe? are the variety of actions sensible to THEM as a person and not just an empty reaction to what is going on? do they MATCH the event? and sure, some of that comes from the variety of prose folx can use and one's writing style. but i regularly read your rp posts and literally visualise whatever is unfolding out. I'm regularly engaged with Jae-hyo's internal exposition, invested in the glances and glints of his past through such. Sometimes when it's a full look and the name and pronouns change, I mentally go 'it's okay darlin', it's not forever!!' XDDDD

You allow me to be educated as well. Which I am infinitely grateful for. Your ooc is also a delight (even when life shits on your flapjacks x.x), and your humour has more than once made me laugh aloud. I wanna write with you so bad, and I hope life begins to treat you better soon~.

Hey friend, I'm making food/thinking over my reply, but I really want to give you a heartfelt thank you- It really means a lot to me that you feel something from my work and enjoy the kinds of themes I explore with Jae… I often worry that people will look at the darker content and think I'm a try-hard or that Jae is a Misery Stu made to entertain an author boner for the 'over the top' and 'melodramatic', as if these very events don't happen in REAL LIFE and affect 'regular' people too ('regular' people, like ME, for example).

It really seems like critical thinking is dead these days. I remember reading a very excellent gay romance/fantasy novel that happened to examine slavery and sexual slavery in it's society and the overwhelming amount of negative reviews it had on GoodReads was shocking- All because it dared to even have slavery as a topic in the book, without examining the context in which it affects and is seen by the characters themselves. Literally, all the reviews were the same, basically saying "this book is garbage because it has slavery in it, ew" kind of vapid and mindless refusal to engage. Which, granted, they have the right to not engage, but oh my god???

It just honestly makes me mad- Am I supposed to be impressed other people choose to be ignorant and have a superiority complex about only enjoying characters they see as morally good or if they're not morally good, have the capacity for redemption? Or they're only good simply because they are 'relatable', like people need to step outside the narrow scope of their own experiences, I am begging-

Similarly, I have been stalking your blogs and I know things have been pretty rough on the both of us outside of roleplaying, so I'm always more than happy and willing to chat whenever we have the free time and spoons. Your portrayals and characterizations have been feeding me well despite absences and hiatuses between the both of us.

Thanks again for the kind words and time taken to express them, it's definitely helping me be less anxious about the idea of publishing my original works...

[shytastemakerthing]

Can I please request a romantic TWST matchup! I am veryyy outgoing. I make friends really easy and overall I’m a people pleaser. I do get very anxious and overwhelmed easily, which can cause panic attacks. I dont like sports, but I do like studying and my grades are something I take pride in. I overwork myself a lot and I make myself crumble. I thrive in environments where I get to help people. I tend to fall for possessive people because it makes me feel like someone actually likes me, even though they’re toxic. I get a long with people pretty easily though a lot of people have taken advantage of me because I’m naive and overly kind and I do anything in my power to make sure that people like me. I crave validation so I love being praised and takes care of, it makes me feel like I’ve done something right. I really enjoy video games and puzzles cause they challenge my brain. Its very easy to get me to do anything- just tell me “if you do _____ then I’ll be so proud of you.” And I’ll do it-. I am a little chubby with stretch marks and surgical scars. I’m very insecure in my body and I would like someone who would hold me close and let the world fall away. I love the idea of someone rough and tough getting soft and snuggling with me. I have some sensory issues that can cause panic attacks, like loud places/crowds. I prefer someone tough and dominant, but on the quieter side. I crochet and I recently finished making a blanket! Thank you!!!

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I re!lly hope that you like this! On another note, if you ever feel like you need to vent or talk about anything, my messages are always open😊. I am in no means a therapist of any kind, but I know just what a lot of what you stated feels like and I've been there myself 😊. Continue to be amazing!!

I match you with........

Riddle Rosehearts

• Now, there are a number of reasons as to why Riddle won in terms of this matchup, and I'll touch on several of those points.

• This is a man who has always seeked validation, mostly for it to come from his mother despite how toxic she truly was for him and to him. Once he was able to look past that in his life, seeing just how she was for him, he began to find that validation in other things. He greatly helps you in that as be knows that you need it.

• He will praise you when you do well, and bring tea and tarts to celebrate. If you're falling behind in classes or not quite sure on a certain topic you are studying, he is there for you all the way to help you through it. He takes great notice of your cues if things are beginning to be too much, if you need a break, if you're hungry, or if you finally understand what js being taught.

• He knows what it's like to be around toxic individuals, mostly his mother, and he will certainly help you. Yes, they gave you validation, but they also hurt you for their own benefit. You do not need not need. Come over to Heartslabyul for an unbirthday party. You will be guaranteed to find and make new good and healthy friends there *cough* Trey *cough*.

• Beijg a people pleaser is okay, but bot when jt comes at the risk of hurting yourself. You can't make everyone happy, and then also expect yourself to be happy as well. He is gentle when telling you this. It's okay to tell people no, it's okay to let them down. It's all a part of growing. If they can't see that you did try to help, or redirect them to someone who can help them better, than that's their loss.

• He is someone who takes his relationship very seriously. Words of affirmation seem to do wonders for you, and he gives you plenty. While among his dorm members, he can be still quite strict, though not as bad as his time in overblot, there is still that nature to him. Once it's the both of you behind closed doors? Pajamas are on, and the both of you are curls into one another and he whispers praises to you and you to him. You're each other's greatest moral support.

• Make him a blanket and he melts, he loves it❤. Honestly, you'll see him using it every night within the confines of his room. It's usually going to be very nearly folded on his bed, it's either being very delicately washed, or maybe he's studying at his desk and it's being used to keep his legs warm. Can he.... possibly have a couple more?

• Overall, this relationship is built on trust, care, love, respect, admiration, gentle words, and care. He may not be perfect, but he promises to be there when you need him the most, no matter what. You're his darling rose, and he wishes to see you bloom.

[ah-ga-seven]

No More Pain | Jung Jaehyun

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Fem!reader 

Synopsis: The lingering wounds of your miscarriage have reopened. Now that you are broken up, an unforseen change in Jaehyun’s life has brought him back to your doorstep. Will he be able to fix you this time? Or will he fail just the same as before?

Genre: Angst, One Shot. 

Warnings: mentions of the reader having a miscarriage, depression, alcohol addiction and heartbreak.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Probably one of the heaviest angsts I’ve written. I know the subject is rough but the idea came from a dream so I just had to write it down.

This was a different kind of pang to your heart.

You’ve had your fair share of tragedies, heartbreaks and disappointments, but this…

This feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever felt before and quite frankly, you wouldn’t wish this upon your greatest enemy.  

It was a Thursday night, one like many where you decided to stay in and recharge from a busy day at your demanding job.

You were seated on your couch with a hot cup of tea as you mindlessly scrolled through your Instagram feed. Completely wrapped in the warmth of your favorite fleece blanket. But even the thick fluffy material couldn’t protect you from the cold shivers that ran down your spine.

You blankly stare at the post your best friend forwarded to you via dm and stiffened.  

Memories of the night you miscarried 4 months into your pregnancy flood back to you as you stare at his comment.

You remembered how broken he looked when the doctor couldn’t find the baby's heartbeat anymore.  

You remembered how he held you as you cried in his arms, promising that he’d love you just the same as he tried to console you to his best ability while suffering himself.

You remembered the pain and the relief of having Jaehyun by your side through it all. Glad that even though your life was about to change forever, he’d be the one constant thing you could rely on.

You remembered all of these moments like they happened yesterday, wishing future you could mentally prepare past you for what was going to be the hardest time in your life.  

The man who swore never to leave you did just that, and not even 6 months into his new relationship, your biggest insecurity was made into a reality.  

He had moved on for good, and even though you have no ill feelings towards him, you can’t help but feel anger over sadness right now.  

It was that easy to replace you. And that easy for him to find someone that could give him what you couldn’t.

Even though your miscarriage wasn’t the direct cause of why he left, the effects of the incidence on your mental health dragged him down with you. So both of you felt it’d be better to part ways for the sake of not wanting to hate or resent each other in the end.  

But God…you hated and resented him now more than ever.  

It didn’t matter to you that both of you started to date new people, because a part of you always held on to the fact that you’d somehow find your way back to each other, though the probability of that ever happening again turned to ash.

Your miscarriage broke you.  

No appetite for weeks, no motivation to get yourself out of bed and no cure for the monsters in your head who told you that Jaehyun was only sticking around out of pity for your broken state.

That same insecurity is what drove him into the arms of the women he told you not to worry about, and now they’re having a fucking child together.  

Knowing that that should’ve been you was a thought that was just too much to bear right now. You suddenly feel sick to your stomach, tears prickling your eyes as you rub the spot on your belly where the mini bump used to be 8 months ago.

You were finally doing better, thriving in your job and social life. Meeting new people and dating a few loose ends here and there, but you can already feel yourself spiraling back into old depressional habits as you stare at the picture once more.  

You pettily decide to like it, hoping it would spark interest from none other than your ex, and much to your surprise, it did.

Not even 20 minutes later your phone started to buzz on the counter as you poured yourself a glass of wine. You mindlessly retrieve it, expecting it to be your best friend but when you see his name as you take a sip you almost choke.

Is he serious?

You try to come up with what to say for the next 3 to 5 minutes but nothing in your head seems to translate your exact feelings to your fingertips.

You sigh in agony while leaning over on your kitchen counter with your phone still in your hands, reading his messages over and over again. You subconsciously start to bite your lip in deep thought, getting startled by your ringtone as your phone starts to ring in your grasp.

“Fuck,” you mumble to yourself, taking a big chug of the alcoholic beverage in front of you, putting on the bravest face and straightest posture to make yourself feel better before accepting the call.  

You knew you didn’t have to answer, but you were dying to hear what he had to say under these circumstances.  

“Y/N? Is that you?” His voice was unchanged. You didn’t know why, but you expected him to sound different, be different. Yet the same worry he’s always had for you was evident in his tone this time as well.

You clear your throat to avoid a voice crack and sigh. “Congratulations,” you tried to sound as genuine as you could, but you knew you sounded like shit.  

You start to play with the ends of your hair out of anxious anticipation, waiting for him to respond on the other end of the line.  

“I meant to tell you,” he starts. “I just…I didn’t know how and Chaeyoung suddenly uploaded the picture and-”

“Jae…please spare me the details,” you interrupt him. Saying his name like you used to felt like speaking a foreign language. He stayed quiet upon hearing your voice again and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Do you still live in the same apartment in Itaewon?” he suddenly asks, immediately alerting you to stand up straight because he could only be asking for one reason and one reason only.

“Y-yes.”

“Good, I’m on my way.”

Just like that, he hung up and just like that your heart rate starts to race uncontrollably.  

You down the remnants of your wine glass and hope he’s isn’t too close because your place looked far from neat. For the next 15 minutes, you run around, shoving things into random cabinets. Whether those items belonged there or not was the least of your concern and just as you fluff the last pillow on your couch, your doorbell rings.

You take a deep breath, calming your nerves as you walk up to your front door, taking it off the lock before you open it with a dramatic swing.

There he was. Jung Jaehyun.

As beautiful and put together as he always looked, no matter the circumstance. You forget how to breathe when you lay eyes on him and gulp. It’s actually him.

His big dark orbs widened as he laid eyes on you after months of not seeing you. His facial expression softened, slowly parting his lips to speak but you beat him to it when you broke out of your trance.  

“What are you doing here?” your shoulders fall as you look into his eyes for answers. The same eyes that once looked at you with so much love and adoration, but right now his pupils were stressfully darting back and forth, trying to read you like he used to be able to but he had no idea what you were feeling right now.

“Because I feel like shit y/n. Please let me in and let me explain,” he pleaded with a defeated tone.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “What is there to explain? You knocked up your girlfriend and finally got what you wanted. Why bother coming here? To rub it into my face?”  

Your plan of staying calm and collected went completely out the window just now and you could tell by the shock on his face that he did not expect you to be angry with him.

He took a step forward, backing you into your own hallway. His height towered over you when you stepped back and without looking back he closed the door behind him.

“Y/n. I would never purposely do that to you. Ever.” You ignore his statement, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don’t remember inviting you in Jaehyun. Does she even know you’re here?”

You hold your ground, crossing your arms over your chest as you wait for him to counter your attack, but he simply shook his head. Knowing damn well that you’re acting tough just so you won’t get emotional.  

As he’s scanning the premises, his eyes linger on the red wine bottle on your kitchen counter and with a look of utter disbelief, he averts his attention back on you.

“You’re drinking again?” he asks with an almost condescending tone.  

“Did you come here to practice your parenting skills because no thanks Jae, please leave,” you bite back as coldly as you could, but he wasn’t having it.

“That shit almost killed you and you’re just casually drinking again?” He runs his hand through his locks out of pure frustration, not knowing what to do with the misplaced feeling of still caring for you just the same, while also knowing he has no business to tell you how to live your life.

The truth is, Jaehyun had no idea what he was doing here. Everything about the situation felt wrong and he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. Ever since Chaeyoung told him she was pregnant; he couldn’t be fully happy about it. He couldn’t commit to fatherhood knowing how much it broke your relationship. How much it broke the women he loved most to this day.

“A little red wine didn’t hurt anyone,” you mumble under your breath and that comment alone send Jaehyun’s emotions into overdrive, unable to hide his disappointment and worry for you any longer.

“IT HURT YOU Y/N. DAMN IT!” He raised his voice at you as he roughly grabbed your arm to make you look at him, which is the last thing you expected. He wasn’t mad at you. He was mad at himself. Mad at the fact that he wasn’t there when you needed him most and mad at the fact that this is what your lives had come to.

You might have previously dealt with your pain by drinking, and you might have mindlessly mixed your anti-depressants with your drink once, which…just might have earned you a trip to the hospital, but that was your lowest low and you made sure it’d never happen again.

You beat your demons by yourself when he had already moved on, so he had no place to waltz back into your life when he felt like it, just to judge you.

You’re absolutely fuming by now because of that same reason and much to your dismay you feel new tears well up in your eyes.  

“NO, YOU HURT ME!” you yell back at him as you smack his chest, the salty droplets streaming down your face as you kept hitting his chest to make him feel your pain. “YOU LEFT ME.”

Your knees got weak and you knew you looked absolutely pathetic as you crouched down in front of him. Shock took over his features as he got down on his own knees just as quickly, pulling you into the comfort of his arms. The warmth that you used to call home and the warmth that always seemed to calm you down engulfed you completely, a feeling your favorite fleece blanket from before could hardly imitate.  

He patted your head with assuring strokes, whispering sweet nothings to you as he held you on the floor of your apartment. Letting you sob the pain away in his black shirt. “Shhh, it’s okay…” he kissed the top of your head, caressing your cheek as he wiped away your tears.

You calmed down slowly, ignoring the suffocating ache in your head and heart while he made you feel safe and sound like he always did. You sat there like that for God knows how long, letting your minds go into overdrive as silence comforted the both of you.  

Ironically enough, this scenery was the exact same as the one in the hospital 8 months ago. You cried in his arms just like this when you had lost your child, but now you were crying because you had lost him. For good now.  

“I would never purposely plan to have a baby this quickly y/n, you have to believe me. Chae was on birth control but it just…happened,” he whispers, finally breaking the agonizing silence.

You stay quiet, closing your eyes to the sound of his low voice, letting his words register. “I was going to tell you. I was planning to ask you out for a coffee but as soon as she passed her first trimester, she was just so excited and made the announcement…it was just bad timing.”

“All of this is bad timing,” you mumble, which made him nod in agreement. He sighed into your hair as he continued to explain. “Y/n, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care for you anymore. I wish things were different, but they simply aren’t and I’m sorry.”

You sniff, dabbing your tears and your nose with the sleeves of your blouse before looking up at him through your lashes.

“You don’t have to apologize for moving on and being happy Jaehyun. It’s all I ever wanted for you.” You wipe the single tear that remained on the corner of his eye, not having realized that he shed a few tears himself too.

He leaned into your touch as he looked into your eyes before closing them, leaning his forehead onto yours while taking a deep breath.  

“I just want you to be ok.” He says suppressing a sob. “I can’t live this picture-perfect life knowing that you’re in pain y/n. It makes no sense; you deserve so much more it’s not fair.”  

Your lip starts to quiver as his words hit you, and you build up the courage to look at him again.  

He stared at you longingly and lovingly for the first time since forever and you knew a mistake was about to be made when he inched his face closer to you, but it was too late.

His lips made contact with yours and you completely gave in. Letting him lead you into a slow yet passionate kiss that took both of your breaths away.  Before things could get more heated, you realize what was happening and froze.

You take a hold of his wrists as you pull away, your eyes staring into his equally electrified ones as you recompose yourselves.

“I-I’m sorry,” he started. “I should’ve never confused you like that. Fuck. What the fuck am I doing.” He covers his mouth as he got up. Frustrated with his own behavior, he digs his fingernails into the palms of his hands to suppress the urge to swing at your door or any other object in sight for that matter.

You get up just as quickly as well. Straightening out your clothes before shaking off the nerves of what just happened.  

You take a deep breath followed by a shaky exhale as you opened your front door, turning around on your heels to look at an equally distressed Jaehyun.

He was about to speak; about to confess that he still loved you, but you stopped him by raising your hand, motioning for him to keep whatever he was about to say to himself.

Your eyes find his own and you take one last glance at the man that was supposed to be the pillar to your family. The man you used to call yours, and the man that you had hoped to still have a future with, despite everything.  

But you knew better.

You knew what was right and you knew what you had to do before things would start to spiral out of control again.

You stepped aside so he could pass by you, trying to avoid eye contact all while you could still feel his burning stare lingering on your fragile state.

You swallow harshly, licking your lips before you spoke as clearly and steadily as you could.

“For the sake of your family, please leave Jae…and never come back.” ��

[flareish]

Rival

akaashi x reader

summary: you and akaashi are fighting for that #1 class rank. however there is not just a scholarship at stake here but some deeply hidden feelings too

genre: rivals to lovers

word count: 2.1k

warnings: kissing, there is a kinda sexual joke

a/n: ahhh! my first request thank you so much! I haven’t written for akaashi yet but he is so great so I hope this does him justice. Love our pretty setters. 

Rage consumes you. You want to throw Akaashi out of the wall of windows right now. It’s only one test you tell yourself. One test that he managed to scrape in one point higher than you. You got 99% and somehow this idiot gets 100%. Quickly putting your stuff away you try and slip out of class before you he finds out. You would like to avoid his snarky remarks. 

“Oh, that’s a pretty good score.” Too late. Akaashi has appeared from behind you, smugness ran through his sarcastic comment. You compose yourself and bounce right back.

“Thought I’d give you a little something since I’ve been crushing your scores lately.” You fire back. He’s not the only one who can play at this game.

“Careful you might just give the spot away at this point.” That spot being #1 in class rank as well as the hefty academic scholarship that goes with it. The spot you’ve occupied for the past two years and suddenly this guy comes out of nowhere and tries to take it from you, right before it really matters. 

“Haha. Well some of us actually have stuff to do. Have fun playing with your balls.” You walk straight past him and out the class. He held a smug grin the whole time. No matter what you did it never left his face. The amount of insults you’ve thrown at each other and every time it’s you who always gets bested. 

Anger fueling your walk to the point onlookers might think you were exercising, not walking home from school. You make it home in record time. As soon as you’re in your room you immediately start studying. You’ve never had to study this hard before in your life. You don’t mean to sound conceded but academics just kinda came easy to you. Sure, you had your rough patches but you just seemed to absorb information. You didn’t really have many other passions either but your parents always said that could come later right now isn’t for fun and games it is for learning. So learn you did. 

The next day, your teacher had started a new project and decided to assign partners. 

“Akaashi and Y/N. You two will be working together.” What did you do to deserve this? You remain in your seat waiting for him to come over but he never does. You look over and see him still sat there, reclined back in his seat talking with Bokuto who sat behind him. That’s when you realize he is waiting for you to move over there. Cocky bastard. Taking a deep breath, you swallow your pride and move over there.

“Please don’t rush, I would hate for you to strain yourself.” You snap sitting down. “That’s so great you got the hint, I wasn’t planning on getting up. Thank you for being so obedient.” Still wearing that grin. Oh, what you would do to slap it off of his face. You ignore him and start working on the project. He simply resumes his conversation with Bokuto, who never does the projects anyway. Seems like you will be doing this all by yourself. Half of you is tempted to purposefully fail but then it would just hurt your grade too. Although it would be pretty funny to see his face. He ignored you for the rest of the class. Once again you part ways.

When you go home and open your computer to continue working on the project to find that it has been already done. Did he seriously not lift a finger in class just to do a rush job right before his volleyball practice. You roll your eyes before reading through his work. You realize it hadn’t been a rush job at all but was perfect. Now you weren’t sure to be happy he actually did it or pissed that it was better than what you could have done. 

After you’ve cooled down a bit you take a moment to think. Maybe he isn’t as bad as you think. You’ve never taken the time to think about why he is doing this. You just immediately jumped on that he was out to get you. That’s pretty childish now you think about it. Maybe he really needs this academic scholarship so he can go to college. There is no way you can be nice to him but perhaps you could be tolerant. You weren’t giving him that scholarship though. No matter how much he needed it, you did too. 

The next day in class you are determined to stick by your discovery. With it including being nicer to Akaashi. You were talking to your friend when he came into the classroom.

“You’re so loud Y/N I swear I could hear you from across the school.” You don’t say anything just look at him and smile. You almost see his grin falter, you’re not sure if he is surprised or scared at your smile.

“Wow have I finally broken you.” You keep ignoring him. This annoys him and he pokes you. You swat at him and he chuckles before walking off. Your friend laughs at the two of you. The teacher came into the room and everyone quickly settled down and class began. You could feel Akaashi’s stare from across the room but you didn’t dare look at him.

When class ended you are your friend took your time and ended up being the last people in the classroom.

“So is ignoring him your next idea?” Your friend asks amused by the earlier interaction, “Can’t beat him then just will him out of existence.”

“No, I’m trying to be a nicer person and embrace competition.” Your friend bursts out laughing.

“That’s not going to last long. Before you know it you will be at his throat again.”

“I don’t know. Think why does he want to be #1 so badly? The scholarship. He probably needs it for college.” You say seriously.

“Ha! As if.” Your friend laughs as if she knows something you don’t.

“Why is he secretly loaded of something?” You ask kinda curious as you pack up your stuff.

“I don’t know about that but I do know he already has multiple athletic scholarships lined up.” You pause at that.

“What?” You are in complete and utter disbelief. If he didn’t need this scholarship what was the point in stealing it from you. Did he seriously hate you that much? You were beyond angry now. You throw your stuff in your bag messily and march out of the class room heading straight for the gyms. If he wanted this scholarship so badly from you, you were going to get an answer. 

As you near the gyms however you hear something that stops you in your tracks.

“Are you seriously going to study for all those classes tonight?” One of his teammates asked in shock.

“He’s got to if he wants to keep up with Y/N.” Another teases. You make sure you are out of sight and continue listening in. 

“Wait why do you compete with Y/N. I thought you were a jock, not a nerd.” You hear laughter and something being thrown at someone. 

“Can’t you see? Our Akaashi is smitten!” You recognize Bokuto’s voice.

“Shut up you dumb owl.” Akaashi didn’t deny it though.

“He’s so crazy for them that he decided to bring his class ranking up so they would notice him,” Bokuto breaks into laughter “But now they just hate him. We got a real  player here, am I right.”

You hear Akaashi yell at him and then you hear some hitting and decide to leave before you got caught. However, not once did you hear Akaashi deny it. He was just silent and then would yell at them for outing him. For telling the truth.

Akaashi likes you.

What an idiot. Who decides the way about trying to get to know someone is by threatening their biggest goal?! You can’t deny though he’s not the only smitten one. Although lately, you have absolutely hated him, before all this you actually had a crush on him. You never acted on it because you were so busy with academics. Is now a second chance? You decided to wait for him after practice. 

By some miracle he is the last one left in the gym, meaning you can confront him without an audience.

“What are you waiting to jump me? I’ll warn you I’m not afraid to fight back.” He snapped at you but you kept quiet. This silence was driving him crazy. At least when you were arguing back with him you were acknowledging him but now. It was like he didn’t exist all over again. He was about to lose it when you spoke up. 

“You know there are better ways to gain someone affection than trying to take the scholarship that they have been working towards for the past three years away from them.” It was your turn to shoot him a smug look. He looks like a deer caught in headlights. For once you’ve caught him off guard, good and proper.

“Wha-Who said I wanted your affections.” He tried to play it off but it was written all over his face. He truly did like you.

“You know I would have said yes.” You say nonchalantly as you begin to walk away. He snaps out of his confused stupor and grabs your arm, turning you around.

“What did you just say.” No longer is he embarrassed or caught off guard but intense and desperate. Like he had misheard what you just said. Like it was a dream.

“That maybe if you had just asked me, I would have said yes.” You try to be as confident as you were a moment ago but that was hard with a blush spreading across your cheeks.

“And what about right now?” He asked, almost pleaded. This was no longer the Akaashi you had known the past year. This was something different. Something raw and intense. 

“What?” You were shocked. Was he seriously about to ask you out? Like this?

“All I ever wanted was you to talk to me. I thought that if I got my rank up that you would respect me, that I’d be smart enough to hold a conversation with you. But no matter how high my rank went, it never felt good enough so I decided that #2 would be the greatest spot I could reach. Then instead of getting you admiration and praise, you thought I was trying to steal your spot. Maybe I should have just explained then that I wasn’t but you were actually talking to me. What if after I explained it we just went back to the way it was before. Suddenly we had some common ground, so I just kept going. When you stopped talking to me today, I hated it so much. So please I know our relationship is in a weird place and we’re not even friends but-” He trailed off. He didn’t even know what he was begging for. 

It was so strange to see him like this. Normally, even with his friends, he was guarded, quick-witted, confident. Now he was so vulnerable. It sparked something in you. At first, it was just a quick thought in your brain but before you knew it your body was moving. Acting on it.

You pulled your arm out of his grasp and with it his face dropped, thinking this was you rejecting him. You didn’t pay it any mind and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling his stupidy tall body down.

With that, you kissed him.

He was frozen for a moment before jumping back to life. His hands came up to your face and he kissed you back as if he would never get the chance to again. He definitely wasn’t expecting this but he wasn’t going to waste this once in a lifetime opportunity. Eventually, you pulled away and his lips chased yours back. You caught his eyes and he relented. 

“Maybe we could work something out.” You say began a smug smile. You run your hand down his side and into his pocket, his eyes blew wide in surprise not really sure what you were doing. You pulled his phone out of the pocket and started putting your number in.

“Call me tonight.” When you handed him his phone back he matched your smug smile with one of his own. 

“You bet.” He said as he watched you walk off. Once your back was turned you couldn’t help but let out a giddy giggle.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Year of the Ox (Minotaur x Reader)

Pairings: Gender Neutral!Reader/M!Minotaur

Genre: Fantasy, Friends to Lovers, First times

Warnings: Explicit content (18+ only) ahead

Word Count: 3243 words

Summary: On the night of the annual new year's festival, you decide to treat your Minotaur neighbor to some new experiences.

“____, have you finished rolling those croissants yet?” The exasperated sound of your mother’s voice bounces off the small kitchen walls, shocking you out of your daydreaming and jerking your body into motion. On the counter besides you lies 40-something flat triangles of pastry, only one half-rolled into a semi-decent croissant shape.

“Uh, almost!” You yell towards the living room, scrambling to the cutting board.

“Those croissants have to be ready by tonight, darling! We can’t be the only family not bringing something to the festival!”

“I’m on it right now, ma!” You shout, pushing up your sleeves as you begin to roll.

It’s not as if the task is difficult, only mindless, the kind of busy-work that forces your mind and eyes to wander. Wander to the open window above the sink, right into the neighboring field of crops. Right where your next-door neighbor and friend, Gavin, is tilling the field.

Frankly, this shouldn’t be an issue. A couple of years ago, when you were saddled with this exact task on this exact day, you’d send Gavin a wave and be on your merry way. Maybe the two of you would shout a couple sentences to each other, making small talk about tonight, but that was it.

But now, your brain willingly deep fries itself with every glance, every peak, out onto his family’s property.

Although the winter has brought some chill, farming is still backbreaking work, one that leaves Gavin slicked with sweat and giving the occasional grunt as he digs in a shovel or hoe. His top button is undone, revealing a toned, chestnut fur-covered chest. And those pants, my god those pants, seemed to hug every perfect curve of his thick legs and butt, his long tail swaying back and forth as he worked. Every noise he makes sends a shiver down your spine.

To say Gavin underwent a “growth spurt” in the past year would be an understatement by a landslide. At only 23, he now stood over two heads above you, with a giant set of horns and a barrel-like chest. His thighs easily doubled the size of yours and his arms looked like they could rip a lumber log right in half.

Your hands continue to roll nothing but air as you find yourself lost in the contours of his muscular back, which push and pull under his shirt, giving a good picture of what lies behind the fabric.  He pauses, straightening his posture and letting out a long sigh as he stretches his back, wiping a bit of sweat off his brow. You think there might be drool coming out of your mouth, a pool of saliva you nearly choke on when he whips around, looking right at you.

As if nothing has changed, Gavin sends you a big smile, waving enthusiastically. You stick up a flour-covered hand and try to look composed.

Gavin perks up, making a rolling motion with his hands and mouthing “Croissants?”

You nod, giving him a thumbs up.

He cheers silently, clenching his fist like you just told him he won the lottery. Your family makes these croissants every year, but every year Gavin acts like it’s the greatest surprise of the season. It’s very sweet, like everything else about him.

Gavin gives you another smile and goes back to working, leaving you to pine all by yourself. You force yourself to focus on the task at hand, but even when he finishes and heads back inside, Gavin still works inside your brain.

-----------

Despite the small size of your town, the New Year’s fireworks never fail to be bigger and better than ever. It’s the one night of the year every dad is allowed to go hog wild, setting off every new, home-made firework-abomination they’ve cooked up during the holidays. But as the fireworks fire off, the blasts resonating through the shaky barn walls and their glow flashing in between the wooden boards, all you can focus is on Gavin. Gavin whose hand is on the small of your back, whose muzzle is frantically planting kisses down your neck, and whose chest you’re gripping onto for dear life as your bodies grind against each other. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine as you press your hips even closer into his, electricity weakening your news as a tell-tale bulge presses against your crotch.

With your mind hazy, you barely remember how you got here. You weren’t quite crotchety enough for your parents and a little too boring for your younger siblings, so you and Gavin often drifted away and hung out together on the New Year’s Festival. The night had been going normal, taking swigs of a spiked apple cider and wandering around the fairgrounds, although you were dressed a little nicer than usual, when Gavin lamented about having no one to kiss at midnight. A little bit of alcohol, a flirty remark from you, and things seemed to spiral from there. In no time at all the two of you had run over to his family’s barn, minds locked in a singular haze of passion.

But the why and the how mattered very little to you at the moment, especially with Gavin’s left palm slowly sneaking it’s way down to your butt, hovering over your backside hesitantly. You lean into Gavin for another kiss and grab his wrist, slapping it down on your butt and urging him to squeeze.

Even through your jeans, Gavin’s hands are rough. His fingertips just barely touch your thigh as he squeezes your cheek once more, his palm large enough to easily grab most of your ass. Gavin continues to knead until his knees hit the back of a huge hay bale, causing him to throw one of his hands back to steady himself.

It’s only when sitting that you and Gavin are face-to-face, his large thighs stretching out his work pants as you slot yourself in between and run your hands up the denim. But Gavin wastes no time in picking you up by the back of your legs and plopping you onto his lap. You rush to find his lips again, meeting Gavin halfway as you sloppily paw at his shirt, wrapping your arms around his thick neck, desperate for the feeling of his fur and muscle under your fingers.

Mind still foggy, you work up the resolve to pull away and begin tugging at the bottom of your dress shirt, untucking it from your pants and pulling it up, right until-

“Oh, shit, ____, uhm….”

You pause, peaking your head out of your shirt collar, arms still raised. Gavin looks at you, rays of moonlight catching off his horns as he breathes heavily, trying to find the words. His eyes dart from your face, your body, to somewhere in the distance as he fidgets. You slowly pull your shirt down,  pressing a hand against his cheek. “Is everything alright? We can stop if you-”

“No! No, I don’t want to stop. Definitely not. I mean, uh, if you want to stop we can, I just-”

You thumb brushes over Gavin’s cheekbones, reaching up your forefinger to sweep away the stray hairs that had fallen over his eyes. This time of year his coat is extra thick, Gavin’s hair a curly mess of locks that fall just past his snout. You could never decide which look you prefer; When he pulls his hair up into a work-bun, or when he lets it messily hang over his shoulders. But in this moment, all you can focus on are Gavin’s beautiful brown eyes, even as he avoids your gaze.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Gavin clenches his eyes shut, wincing for an oncoming reaction.

“...Oh.” You mutter, blinking quickly as you mull over this revelation. Gavin looks at you from under his eyebrows, a strong blush traveling up his neck and onto his cheeks. “Not anything? With anyone?” Gavin shakes his head. His hands play with a stray piece of hay, betraying his anxiety.

You’re shocked, Gavin is one of the most handsome bachelors in town, one you’ve been pining after for months now, but try not to let it show. While you yourself aren’t necessarily a connoisseur of sex, you’ve still had your fair share of encounters, even in your small hometown.

You quickly realize you’ve left Gavin alone with his thoughts for a solid 30 seconds, right after he told you something he is clearly nervous about. Shaking yourself out of your stupor, you straighten your posture and stand up. Gavin’s eyes follow you, small hints of fear and anxiety within them. You lean down and give him a long kiss on the lips, before pulling away and whispering in his ear.

“I want to make you feel good. Would that be okay?”

Gavin gulps, nodding against you, fingers digging into your blouse as you press another kiss behind his ear. Then on his jaw, and slowly move down his neck, leaving a trail of affection until you hit his collarbone.

You pull away and Gavin moves to sit up, but you press a solid hand on his chest and press him back down, sliding down his thighs and onto your knees. Gavin gulps as your hand travels down his abdomen, fingers dancing on his happy trail before lightly tracing over his growing hard-on. Once you’ve reached his crotch, you take your time squeezing and admiring Gavins muscular quads, not bothering to hide how aroused he’s made you. You want him to know how hot he is, how desperately you want to ravish him, have him ravish you.

Your eyes focus on his bulge, licking your lips as you slowly tip-toe your fingers to his zipper.

“If you need to stop, let me know okay? Seriously, I want you to feel comfortable.”

Gavin shakily nods, letting out a surprised groan as you palm his cock through the denim. He throws his head back as you slowly undo the zipper with one hand, the other continuing to tease and rub his dick as his boxer briefs are revealed. You slowly lean down and press a kiss to his groin, forcing another low moan out of him. Behind him, you hear the flicks of his tail against the hail bale as you give his dick another kiss. With slow movements, you finally pull on his underwear down to the top of his thighs, revealing his cock.

You had expected Gavin to be….well-endowed. But my god, nothing could compare to seeing it in person. It’s long, thick, the tip of it hitting just underneath his belly button as it presses up and out of his boxers. His balls are also large, carrying a familiar sweaty musk from long days of farmwork. Saliva begins pooling in your mouth.

Apparently you got lost in your own thoughts, staring at his cock and pondering in what way it could fit in any part of you, as Gavin sucks in a deep breath and asks,

“Is it-Are you good?” His whispers, voice trembling with pent-up pleasure. You give a wordless nod, snapping yourself out of your own self-consciousness and lock eyes with Gavin. He may have the dick of a sex-god, but this was still his first time. You send him a reassuring smile.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. Your cock is really nice.” Gavin’s whole face flushes an even darker shade, his ears twitching and his tail flicking with embarrassment.

“R-really? U-uhm, thanks. I guess I never-hngh!” Gavin’s front lurches, his throat tripping on coherent sentences as you press a kiss to the base of his cock, hand’s running up to his inner thighs. You pull back, but only an inch.

“Was that okay?”

“Y-yes, yes, yeah that was-uhng-that was good.” Gavin stammers, throwing a hand through his long hair. It brings a small smile to your face. “C-could you do it again?”

You nod once more, pressing a longer, slower kiss to Gavin’s cock. A hot stream of air pushes out of his nose and he stutters a low ‘fuck’ as you slowly begin to lick up the underside of his dick. One of your hands moves from massaging his legs to tentatively fondle his balls. In your periphery you can see his big hands clench around the hay, another deep moan coming from his chest. Your fingertips barely touch around the circumference, a bolt of heat shooting down your abdomen as you feel the size of him in your hand. A myriad of dirty images, fantasies and positions fly through your mind, but you steady yourself and focus on the task at hand.

Gavin’s breath steadily increases as you continue to jerk him off, lightly suck at his head and play with his balls. He keens and whines when you give him a particularly hard squeeze or suck, leaning his weight back on one elbow and eyeing you in between his messy hair.

“Shit, s-shit, that feels so good. Right there, please.” Gavin begs, hands struggling to find purchase on the bale below him as you continue to tease.

You finally take the leap, lifting yourself up on your knees, and take about 2 inches of him into your mouth. Your decision is immediately rewarded with Gavin’s loud, shocked moan, catching in his throat as his legs tense up. He mutters a curse under his breath and you start bobbing up and down, slowly working your way down the many inches of his long dick. Your hand movements grow sloppy as you focus more and more on breathing through your nose and sucking in your cheeks, but Gavin doesn’t seem to mind. His adorable whimpers have raised in pitch, rowdier moans breaking in between as your tongue swirls around his shaft. You can feel the way he struggles to think of what to do with his hands, mind warped by new sensations, so you grab one of his palms and place it on the back of your neck. Gavin instinctively tangles his fingers through your hair, right before lightening his grip and avoiding pushing you to choke on his cock. You struggle down another half-inch anyway, forcing his lower-body to jolt and his hands to tighten.

For a virgin, he has rather impressive stamina, the back of your throat beginning to tire after several minutes of the intense blowjob. But Gavin’s moans and tiny pleas for “More, more, more” are music to your ears, time passing like nothing.

In your hand, you feel his balls tighten, his thighs tensing around you as his tail flickers uncontrollably.

“Oh fuck, oh shit. ____, I’m close, I’m so close.” Gavin keenes, his hips stuttering up and into your mouth as you pick up your pace. Gavin continues to stutter and whine, peppering you with compliments as his legs quiver with an impending orgasm. But at the last second, you detach with a sloppy pop, giving a light kiss to his pre-cum soaked head. Gavin’s eyes jolt open, losing his grip on your scalp as his chest heaves up and down.

“W-what-”

“You want to come down my throat, big boy?” You murmur, squeezing the base of his cock in a vice grip. Gavin yelps, hips humping into yours. “You want me to swallow a mouthful? Feel my throat around your cock as you cum?” You suck on one of his balls and Gavin’s moan is downright musical. Gavin frantically shakes his head up and down. “Uh-uh, sweetie. I want to hear you.”

You don’t know where this wave of confidence is coming from, perhaps you yourself are discovering something new tonight as well. But as Gavin looks at you, cheeks dark with embarrassment and eyes desperate for you and only you, it feels as if a spark has set off a stick of dynamite in your belly. Gavin pushes back his hair, sucking in another long breath, right before he says.

“P-please, I want to come in your mouth. ____, I need your mouth on my cock, please.”

Your smirk, immediately latching back onto his cock and quickly deepthroating him. Gavin’s hand moves on its own and presses you down even farther, tears peaking at the edge of your eyes as he presses against your gag reflex. Your hand continues it’s ministrations with his balls as you suck up and down. Gavin lets his moans out, no longer bothering to suppress them in his chest as his lower body tenses once more.

“Sh-shit! S-shit, I’m coming, I’m coming, ____ I’m comi-ing!”

Like a tidal wave, Gavin orgasms, his first shot nearly causing you to choke as it hits the back  of your throat.

Wow, I didn’t even think it was possible to cum this much.

You lock your lips around his dick as he continues to climax, filling up your mouth with his seed as he throws his body back onto the hay bale. When you finally pull off, a long stream of cum leaks down the side of your mouth, forcing you to swallow as soon as you can. With a silent and satisfactory “Aaah~”, you wipe at your chin.

Gavin lays, exhausted, on the bale. His tail weakly sways back and forth under him, his sweaty fur sticking out from his few top undone buttons. You let yourself rest back on your thighs, a little sweaty yourself, admiring your handiwork.

“That feel good?”

Gavin nods, a mindless smile on his face as he catches his breath. You chuckle at his blissed expression, giving him a solid pat on the calf.

Using his thick thighs as leverage, you push yourself up, leaning over his large form and giving him a small peck on the cheek. Gavin’s smile grows even wider and he gives you a kiss of your own, his hand lazily patting your lower back.

“Well,” You rub his chest fur, “I’m happy I could give you your first blowjob, big guy.”

You move to push yourself away, but Gavin holds you still, his one hand easily keeping you in place as he presses himself back up and onto his elbows. He pecks another kiss on your cheek.

“I’m happy too. You were really, really amazing.”

“I try my best.” Gavin chuckles, thumb still lackadaisical brushing up and down your back. “We should probably-”

“Do you-”

The two of you pause, each trying to let the other one speak their piece.You both laugh, but then you relent and let Gavin go first. His face fills with blush once more, adjusting himself and sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to find the right way to speak.

“It’s just….that was a pretty fantastic first blowjob. And handjob, technically. Like, really great.” Gavin pauses, eyes darting from you to the ground. “I appreciate it so, so much. I was thinking that you could, uhm, maybe teach me how to-” The words stumble out of Gavin’s mouth, his hand slightly fidgeting with the back of your shirt, “Maybe you could teach me how to make you feel good? B-but only if you want to.”

You pause, slightly shocked, until you feel that tightening heat firing up in your belly, a slight tremor of excitement shaking down your limbs. You nod, just a tiny bit breathless.

“Y-yes, I would love that, Gavin.”

With a smirk, Gavin sweeps you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds onto your thighs, laying a kiss on your pulse point.

What a way to spend the new year.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(TFATWS) Bucky x Reader: Protective- Part 1

 (Author’s Note: I watched TFATWS and loved it.  So here we are).

 The tension had finally fizzled out an hour or so into the trip- at least for a little while.

   Your consulting criminal, Zemo, made himself comfortable as soon as he set foot on the jet.  He was leaning back in his seat across from you, looking very pleased as he read a book and took an occasional sip from his champagne glass.  His contented demeanor had visibly affected both of your friends, Sam and Bucky, causing their irritation with him to skyrocket earlier.  But after some of the confrontations concerning Bucky’s inherited notebook from Steve, Sam’s music, and Zemo’s observations of you, things had finally calmed down.

   He was a crafty one.  He knew how to push buttons, knew exactly what to say to trigger each individual’s weak points.  Things had begun to escalate especially when Zemo turned his attention to you.  His piercing gaze had you frozen in place as he made inquiries.  While he didn’t ask anything outwardly uncomfortable, the probing questions about your life were starting to make you uneasy.

   The other two males didn’t take too kindly to Zemo’s attempts at conversation with you.  Bucky stared out the window with his jaw clenched.  At one point, Sam let out an exasperated sigh, causing the criminal to halt mid-sentence. He leaned over to raise his brow at you diagonally across the aisle of the jet.   “_________, is he bothering you?”

   You didn’t have to speak: the look on your face said it all, and Sam shifted in his seat again to look over at Zemo.  “Alright, that’s enough.”  His tone was firm and leaving no room to question.

   Directly across the aisle from you to your right, Bucky’s shoulders relaxed when Zemo followed Sam’s command.  The jet had fallen silent except for the muffled whirring sounds of its mechanics.

   You pretended to skim through a magazine that you’d found laying on a tray.  With one hour down and twelve more to go on the flight, you felt the need to unwind a bit.  Everything had happened so fast from the moment you agreed to go with your friends to Berlin to see Zemo.  After Thanos’ horrible plan came to an end, things heated up when John Walker went public as “the new Captain America.”  He’d even offered you a place working with him since you were part of Team Cap back in the day.  You declined, of course, and found yourself even more determined to help Sam and Bucky.

   You were happy for Steve.  You were.  It was still hard to have him gone.  For years, ever since the Avengers broke apart over the Sokovia Accords and Bucky’s framing, you’d followed Steve.  Even before then, when it was discovered that Hydra had been infiltrating SHIELD, you’d left the broken agency to join him as he continued his fight against threats to the world

   You hadn’t imagined that you and the others would be left to keep fighting without him.

   “You in the market for a new grill?”

   You were drawn from your deep thought to a set of dark blue eyes that looked from you to the magazine page that you hadn’t turned in at least ten minutes.  You chuckled and closed the magazine, playing along.  “Yes, I figured with all this extra time, I’d do a little shopping.”

   The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched up in a brief show of amusement.  You rose from the seat to go to his side, kneeling down beside his chair.

   “Why does he even have this?”  You lowered your voice as you glanced at the eccentric baron, setting the magazine back down onto the tray.  “You’d think there would be more European fashion magazines or something.”

   Bucky’s eyes flickered to the man in question before leaning in to speak in an equally quiet tone.  “I have to admit.  We lucked out with him.  Not only does he have a lead, but he’s got private transportation so we can stay under the radar.”

   “I think we made the the right choice going to him,” you replied.

   “We can only hope,” he muttered.  “Seriously though, what were you thinking about when you zoned out?”

   “Oh.”  You averted your gaze, playing with the hem of your jacket.  You didn’t want to delve into your train of thought.  It was plain as day that Bucky and Sam were both dealing with Steve’s departure in their own ways, and you didn’t want to add to it or open up any healing wounds.  So, you settled on being vague.  “Just...everything.”

   He seemed to know what you meant anyway.  The silence that followed made guilt gnaw in your chest, but before you could say anything, Bucky spoke.

   “Hey,” he nudged you with his shoulder, making you meet his gaze again.  His eyes had softened significantly and forehead smoothed in absence of the lines caused by furrowed brows.  It was a nice change from the scowl he had since the mission started.  “Sorry we dragged you into this.”

   You dismissed the apology with a casual wave of your hand.  “You guys didn’t drag me into anything.  I was along for the ride from the beginning.”

   A comfortable silence fell between you then.  He returned to gazing out the window while you stood up and headed back to your seat, sinking into it and letting your head tip forward.  You figured that a cat nap was in order since you hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.  All that business with an internationally-known criminal breaking out of prison had you on edge.  With nothing but the sounds of occasional page-turning from Zemo’s book and Sam tapping his foot lightly to the beat of music he listened to on his phone with earbuds, sweet sleep claimed you in no time.

   You were pulled from your dreamless slumber by voices, but your body wasn’t ready to respond just yet.  The first thing you noticed was that you were leaning against something on your right side, your face resting on a soft material that held the scent of leather and cologne. Bucky’s scent.  It must’ve been his jacket balled up to serve as a pillow.  In fact, it was his voice rumbling closest to you.

   “Stop looking at her like that.”

   “Apologies, James, but I don’t know what you mean.”  Zemo’s accented voice was quieter, but there was a sprinkle of amusement in his tone.

   “You’re doing it right now.”

   “Bucky, come on,” Sam interjected.  “We managed to make it a few hours without killing the guy.  Don’t let him get to you now.”

   Zemo’s tone took on a new intensity, as if he was gripped by fascination.  “You seem very protective of __________.  The way you move around her is intriguing, as if prepared to defend her at a moment’s notice.”

   “Don’t engage,” Sam warned in a low voice.

   By now, you were almost fully awake.  Despite the potentially awkward situation that Zemo was creating with the analysis of your friend, you figured it would be best to intervene.  You shifted, blinking your eyes open.

   “What’s going on?” you muttered, voice still a little rough from sleep.  “It better be good because I haven’t slept that well in a while.”  You lifted your head from Bucky’s jacket, eyes darting up to see him staring out the window again.  “Sorry,” you muttered, brushing a bit of drool from his jacket before handing it back to him.  He stole a glance in your direction again, not seeming to mind.

   “No big deal.  You needed the sleep.”

   Bucky didn’t say another word, so you turned to Sam for answers.  He shrugged with the shake of his head.  “Zemo’s being... well, Zemo.”

   You nodded in understanding, as if that simple phrase was all the explanation you needed.  Zemo caught your gaze, the corners of his lips turning up a smile.

   “As I mentioned before, we will have to go undercover to meet with Selby in Madripoor.  I was merely thinking of disguises for you and Sam.”

   He seemed like was telling the truth, but you didn’t doubt that he relished the added bonus of getting under Bucky’s skin in the process.  While Bucky had been protective of you and those who chose to put themselves on the line to prove his innocence when it came to the UN bombing, you hadn’t expected him to be quite that defensive in this situation.  As flattering as it was in some ways, it made you worry.  Zemo knew what buttons to push.  Would he eventually push a button to make things go his way?  To forward some plan of his?

   You got up to stretch and use the refresher.  You took your time since there were still several hours left in the flight.  Zemo had informed the group that upon landing, there would be  limited window to get into costume and go over your characters before heading to Selby’s club.

   - - - - - - -  

   “Only an American would assume that a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo complained.  You stole a glance at your friend who gave his outfit another displeased look.  “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing.  The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”  He handed his phone over so Sam could get a look at his character’s picture.

   “He even has a bad nickname.  He does look like me, though.”

   “And who am I supposed to be?” you asked, pulling the jacket over your form tighter.  You wore a dark blue dress that went to your knees.  The material was soft and had a subtle glimmer in the light, and the outfit was complete with a pair of black heels that clacked on the pavement with each step, a shiny silver bracelet, and the black jacket that you were glad to have in the chilly air.  The group was walking to the halfway point of the bridge to be picked up.

   “You will be my date,” Zemo replied casually.

   You gave him an incredulous look.  “Really?  I’m just the date?”

   He released a sigh before launching into explanation.  “You don’t exactly resemble any crime bosses.  Besides, it’s not uncommon for dates to come and go in this town.  No one will be asking who you are.  No one will expect what’s coming to them if we need to fight.  You may have the greatest advantage out of all of us.”

   As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point.

   “Just remember to remain at my side at all times,” Zemo continued.  “Make it look convincing that we are together.”

   You refused to meet his amused look.  “Yeah, yeah.  Whatever.”

   A black car idled just ahead, and Zemo once more reiterated how important it was to stay in character. He told the group about High Town and Low Town, though you were a little distracted by the city lights reflecting off the water.

   You squeezed into the backseat between Bucky and Sam.  The ride was tense with only the sound of your breaths in the small space.  Bucky stared straight ahead through the windshield even as motorcycles surrounded the car and escorted it the rest of the way.  The car dropped you all off near the club, and Zemo held out his hand to help you out of the vehicle.  He put an arm around your waist at a respectful level, but Bucky took one look and halted.

   “Okay, this isn’t going to work,” Bucky snapped.�� Everyone’s eyes were on him.

   Sincerity was written all over Zemo’s features as he responded.  “I assure you, it will.” Suddenly, his eyes flickered with realization, though you glanced between the two men in confusion.  “I know you don’t trust me, James, and I understand your discomfort.  However, you are playing the part of the Winter Soldier.  It is best if she remains inconspicuous as my date.”

   “Wait, that’s what this is about?” Sam asked in disbelief.  “Who ________ pretends to date?”  Your eyes fell to the pavement.  The situation was already unpleasant.  The last thing you wanted was to bring confusing feelings into the mix while in the middle of an important mission.

   Bucky began to protest.  “No, I-”

   “Relax,” Sam said, holding up his hands to show he meant no offense.  “________, you can stay by me.  Smiling Tiger can have a date, right?”  He looked to Zemo for confirmation.

   “Excellent idea.”  He nodded in approval.  “Just remember to stay in character.  All of you.”  

(Link to Part 2)

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Emotion (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: Kakashi again...can't get enough of this mans tbh. U r an empath due to your kekkei genkai and Kakashi has always been difficult to read. Friend to lovers. Sharing one bed folks, we got some steamyyy shit here. Angst warning as well.

Word count: 6000

He was always alone. Ever since his childhood, he walked the world completely alone with only a few people there to support him. No mother, no father, no mentor, no teammates. He was at the mercy of fate his entire life, things being stolen from him time and time again. 

He just prayed that he could keep her. Y/N L/N, the only woman to have wormed her way into his heart and made a home there.

When they first met, Kakashi and Y/N, she cursed him for being such a weirdo. Apparently his mind was empty and his heart was seemingly full of sand. He was conditioned that way, and that is how he lived for the longest time. It wasn't a surprise for him to hear that.

But she thought it was stranger than anything she'd ever seen, and so she followed him. She would figure him out, bring him back down to Earth from his supposed high horse. That woman was determined, and frankly he didn't mind her being around. She was quiet enough that it didn't matter. Not to mention on the missions they had together, she was quite the partner.

Over time, she'd learned to read him like a book. It was part of her clan's kekkei genkai. The ultimate empath, I suppose. The ability to read a persons every single emotion and then turn that, if they so choose, into power. 

She was never the greatest fighter, but her negotiation skills were the best they could possibly be. She would dive into the emotions of another and manipulate them backwards and forwards to get what she wanted. 

It was overwhelming, walking into a room of people and immediately being bombarded with so many feelings coming at her all at once. Occasionally, if the situation was bad enough she'd have to take a seat and clear her mind, organizing each person in her mind like a filing cabinet of empathy.

But damn, did she try to weasel out every bit of feeling she could. It was just something that came so naturally, she couldn’t help but instigate whatever was brewing up inside him.

"Kakashi, if you're happy, you know you're allowed to express it. You don't have to hide it away," she told him, staring at the masked man sitting across from her at the table. He was watching as she sharpened her kunai, and she could feel the content running off his body in small bursts. He was feeling better. Better than he had in a little while. Of course she picked up on it.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. She was always reading him, he knew that. He just preferred when she refrained from mentioning it. It did, most times, feel like a bit of an invasion of privacy, how she could deep dive into the corners of his mind. There were things no one else could ever possibly know that she did. It was strange, but he was used to it.

"What? Want me to smile or something?"

"No, but you should let yourself go. Just drop the facade."

"Stop doing that. Getting into my head."

Quietly, she set down her blade and picked up the next one, taking a cloth and softly wiping away any dirt. Her eyes slide up to his for a moment, her all knowing gaze filling his vision. "It's basically impossible. Especially if you're the only one around. There's nothing else to focus on except you." He knew that. It wasn't like she had an on or off switch. That was the downside of this dojutsu. Unlike sharingan and byakugan users, hers was always pulling the strings of her brain.

"You've got that mission next week. With Naruto and a few of the other kids, right?"

"Yes."

"It's A rank, isn't it?"

She hummed in agreement. He had a habit of knowing about all her missions, more importantly being the dangerous ones. He wasn't necessarily scared for her, probably not. He was more cautious than anything. There was this nagging feeling in his head that he shouldn't let her go on these missions alone. That it was too dangerous for her to handle. 

But he was wrong. She was stronger than he thought, and could hold her own in battle. He was just a worrier. He'd just lost too many, seen too many bodies in front of his eyes to trust. God, he wanted to trust her, but he couldn't. She was too vulnerable. His friend, one of the only ones who hadn't died yet. For all he knew, her days numbered, that's how paranoid he was about everything.

"You'll be careful?"

"That's a silly question." He gave her a look that said he was more serious than anything, and she sighed. "Of course I'll be careful. I have people that would miss me if I wasn't." He was one of them. She could sense his fear whenever she said goodbye and his relief when she returned. He really tried to remain objective, but his heart said otherwise. 

And she would be a liar to say that she did not experience the same relief seeing him come home from missions, even if he was beaten and bruised to the bone, she was just happy he made it back. So many never got to come home. It was a sick world, they lived in, but she could relish in the little comforts.

"Don't worry about me. I'll always turn out fine. It's you and your dumb students we have to worry about."

"I hear you. Those kids are enough to drive a person mad." He rested his chin in his palm, the mere thought of those kids causing his blood pressure to rise.

"Thankfully my students never gave me any trouble. Sweet little things."

"Well, aren't you just lucky, Y/N?"

"What can I say? Kurenai and I got the luck of the draw with our students. You men had it rough, I have to admit," she laughed. It was funny that he was so unfortunate to have gotten assigned the Uchiha and the Uzumaki, two completely opposite but persistent forces. "Despite your perverted tendencies and your perpetual lateness, you still did a great job teaching them."

"Thanks. But do you really have to call me a pervert? I'm really not."

"Yeah? That explains why you read porn in public. Admit you're a pervert, you dumb old man."

"We're the same age-" he began to argue, but she just cut him off with her harsh words.

"Creep," she muttered, running the sharpening stone along her blade. He narrowed his eyes. She was being awfully annoying, and he knew she could sense his irritation building up. Yet she continued just to be a pain in the ass.

 He warned, "Hey. Watch it, L/N."

"Okay, okay, I'll stop...Pervert." She ducked her head when his hand reached out to wring her around the neck for being so frustrating, and she continued to laugh. It was nice, having a friend she could joke with and be around without having to worry about what she said. He might pretend to be mad, but she could feel the happiness still rolling off his body thickly under all that fake neutrality. 

He was happier than he'd been in a long while, and she found herself swelling with pride knowing that she might have helped make that happen. Her lips curled into the gentlest of smiles as she peered back up at him, and he found himself smiling back even if it was just through the mask. 

He swore in that moment, he'd make sure Y/N didn't end up like all the others. She would live. He'd break this wretched curse just for her. He was sure of it.

______

"How could you be so reckless?! Do you want to die?" Kakashi shouted at his friend who could only stand there angrily, arms crossed over her chest and one foot in the other direction. She didn't need to be lectured by someone who took just as many risks every single mission as she did.

"Kakashi, I really don't want to hear it. You have no idea how it went."

"Yeah but Naruto does, and we were just talking."

She placed her free hand over her chest and exclaimed even angrier than before, "You're going to trust a kid over me? Naruto even?" It was just low to trust Naruto when she was right there to explain herself. Just let her speak for once, she wanted to say but he of course, had something else to say.

He waved his arm toward the ramen shop, eyes glaring. "Don’t be rude. He's right there. What is wrong with you?"

Indeed, Naruto was sitting inside Ichiraku with Jiraiya at his side, munching on pork ramen while the pair fought outside. Kakashi was eating with them, taking a break from his work to just relax with his master and student when out of the corner of his eye he noticed Y/N stumbling down the street on her crutch. 

He heard when she got back home that she was in the infirmary for a couple days. He had no idea for what reason until Naruto explained to him what happened. She was being needlessly reckless on the battlefield, relying too much on her kekkei genkai and not enough on her brain. She threw herself right in the way of an enemy, for what reason, he didn't know. All he knew was that she could have died and she didn't seem to care one bit.

Rightfully so, he was mad. Normally he preferred not to make a scene in the open like this, but there wasn't anyone else around and he was red-hot.

She huffed. "He knows I don't mean anything bad by that. How could he not? I'm also his sensei, you know."

"Doesn't matter," Kakashi brushed off her words. "What you did was dangerous and you don't seem to care. Next time what are you gonna do? Run right into the arms of the enemy?"

"No, I would never. Kakashi, you're just being a jerk right now. I'm literally injured from the hip down and you have to yell at me? Jeez, just be grateful I'm alive, okay? Things happen," she tried to reason with him, but he didn't acknowledge it. He wasn't exactly feeling all that rational.

"Things don't just happen like that."

She groaned, "Well apparently they do, because it happened to me."

His eye narrowed and she noticed the way he clenched and unclenched his fists a couple times by his sides. Clearly he was just trying to channel his anger, but he really had no reason to be so upset. She hadn't done anything to him. He really needed to relax. "This is so like you L/N's. Always so emotional. Always thinking you're stronger than you actually are."

"Excuse you-"

"Get a grip, you aren't going to live forever."

"First off, don't interrupt me. Second, don't talk about my clan ever again, you hear me, Hatake? We don't live to please your dumbass," she cursed, how dare he say shit about her clan. That asshole. He was just being so...so unlike himself. She had no idea what had gotten into him, but she hated it and just wanted to continue on her way before he said something else stupid. 

Normally, she didn't expect to be bombarded in the street nearly the second she leaves the hospital, but Kakashi never fails to surprise her.

"I've got to go. Don't bother following me." With that, she took off past him, rushing as fast as she could on her crutch, which was pathetically slow. Silently, she cringed at how ridiculous she must look waddling around like this in a fit of rage. Nevermind that. She had better things to do.

He huffed out the breath he had been holding to walk back into the ramen shop, taking his seat beside Naruto and slouching down into the stool. Immediately, Master Jiraiya met his eyes, wisdom about to drip from his tongue once again. "You need to go apologize."

"Why? She clearly doesn't want that right now."

"Well, to start, you insulted her clan which is a big no-no. Imagine saying that to an Uchiha. You're lucky she let you off so easily."

"Yeah, Kakashi. You kinda just attacked her out there in the street," Naruto added.

Jiraiya continued, "Mainly though, the longer you let her stay angry, the worse it'll be for you in the end. Trust me."

"She said don't follow her."

"And you're actually going to listen?" The older man laughed. "You and her fighting reminded me a lot of young Tsunade and I. And let me tell you, you don't just let a woman like that go. I sure did. It’s not a fun time."

"Yeah, Kakashi sensei, go find Y/N."

The jounin stood from his stool and slapped a ramen voucher onto the counter top to pay for his meal. This really didn't seem like a good idea, he had to admit. But he would trust the process. This was the author of his favorite romance series, after all. How could he get something like this wrong? To put blind faith into Jiraiya on realistic romantic matters was probably the not the wisest thing to do, but it was the only thing he had to go on. "I'll go, but this doesn't sound like good advice."

"If you let this go, she's might run into the arms of another man for comfort. Do you want that?"

Tch, there was no way she was gonna do that. She barely had any friends. If anything she would go see Kurenai. Still, he pulled back the cloth at the entrance and muttered, "I gotta catch up to her."

"'Atta boy," Jiraiya cheered, waving off the copy nin. "Another bowl, Naruto?"

"Yes, please!"

Kakashi walked down the streets, looking for the woman he was sent on a mission to find and apologize to. He searched through the shops and the stands for her, walked by her apartment no sign of her. It wasn't until he stumbled by the bookstore that he found her eyeing down the display out front, leaning comfortably on her crutch.

"Y/N," he called to her, and he watched as she tensed up without a second. He caught up to her, walking to stand beside her in front of the store windows. "I need to talk to you."

"What do you want?" She questioned, peering over at him with a quirked brow. He seemed calmed down by now. Thankfully. "Also, didn't I tell you not to follow me?"

"You did, but Jiraiya told me to apologize."

"So this isn't even on your own accord, you're doing it because Jiraiya told you so." He groaned. Of course she would twist his words and find some way to make things bad on his end. She was angry with him, what did he expect to happen? Her to accept him with open arms?

"Listen, I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was just overwhelmed."

"With what? I wasn't paying attention to anything but the anger." She picked at her finger nails in an attempt to remain casual, but really she was just itching to hear what he had to say. She was willing to give him a second chance, only because he was normally so sweet. This was just out of character for him.

He replied, "I was scared for you. Naruto told me about how you nearly died, and I was upset that you did that. I was upset because I could only think about what if you had been overpowered and the enemy killed you." His explanation was weak, but he hoped she would accept it as truth. He really wasn't lying. When he heard she was in the hospital indefinitely, he nearly had a heart attack himself. He worried for her every time she left on a mission without him. It just meant that if she failed, he wasn't there to protect her himself. He couldn't handle that thought.

"So you were worried?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's sweet of you, isn't it?"

"I'd miss you, you know. If you died."

She froze. That wasn't what she expected him to say. When she looked over at him, he was just staring into the storefront window, but she could feel the sadness in waves running off his body. She wobbled around on her crutch to face him, a hand getting coming up to rest on his shoulder. "It's okay."

"I don't want you going on missions without me because every time it scares the shit out of me thinking they'll bring you back dead. Every time. I don't know why."

"It's normal to worry for your teammates."

"It's not the same, and you know it."

"Ah." And she felt it. Even if it was just a little hint of something, she felt his infatuation roll off his body and she took it in like a drink of cold water. So refreshing. Was he attracted to her? She had no idea before this that he cared so much but from the sound of it, he had some strong feelings attached. She wanted to reach out and hug him, tell him it was going to be okay, but that felt too personal. Instead, she leant back and muttered, "You know, Kakashi, I worry about you too."

"It's good we both have someone who cares, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I should be on my way, but, uh, if you need some help getting up to your apartment-"

"I should be fine."

"Okay, good."

"Yeah, so uh, see you," she turned on her heel and started heading in the other direction toward her home when suddenly, his hand reached out to stop her. 

"Wait, Y/N. I think..."

"What is it?"

"It's just that I need you. Please be careful from now on."

She stopped, turning around just enough to get a good look at his face. He only watched her, a glimmer of something she didn't recognize in his eye. 

"As long as you take care of yourself too, Mister."

"Y/N, I…"

All she could feel was a rough fabric rubbing against her face for a second before the full picture came into view. 

Mask to lips. I repeat, mask to lips.

She stared at him, as he kissed her right there in front of their favorite bookstore. When he pulled away after a second, he seemed just as shocked as she was. She pressed a hand to her forehead and struggled to find the right words to say. 

Kakashi Hatake just kissed her. 

And she definitely liked it. More than any other kiss she’d ever had before. She loved it. Mask or not, that was one of the best surprises of her entire life, and she honestly had no idea how to react. She settled for the easiest possible thing, running in the opposite direction, give herself time to think over what that meant for the two of them if anything at all. Kakashi wasn’t the type to have a girlfriend, he was always single. There just wasn’t room in his life for her.

There was plenty room in her life to fit him in comfortably. And there was more than enough room in her bed as well. 

Flustered, with heat coming to sit in her cheeks and run up her neck, she turned and motioned in the direction of her home. She just had too many thoughts to sit here and pretend she wasn’t dying inside from the tension.

"I've got to run home now," she managed to say. "Well, not run, with these crutches and all, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I should be going too. I'll see you around,” he mumbled, running his hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. 

"See you."

And into separate directions they went, just as confused as ever.

______

"Kakashi, I swear to God, if you don't stay on your side of the bed, I'm gonna-

"You'll what? Hit me? Go ahead. You're the one that keeps snoring."

"Shut up!" she exclaimed, rolling over in the bed and planting her fist directly in the middle of his chest. He didn't even flinch, she hadn't meant to hurt him anyway. She was just so annoyed. You would think that the stoic Hatake would be easy to sleep beside but no, he was a pain in the ass. He was rude. He was way too hot under the sheets. He still smelled like dog even after taking a bath. Just overall a bad experience, definitely 0 out of 10.

"What? It's the truth."

She groaned, throwing one of her arms over her eyes, burying her nose in the crook of her elbow. "Whatever. Don't ever mention my snoring again. It’s embarrassing me." She was self-conscious. She was usually so good at maintaining a cool and calm presence and now Kakashi was seeing that all crumble. Great. 

"Fine."

"Can't you just stay on your side so we can both sleep comfortably?"

"Can't you just stop snoring so I can sleep comfortably?" 

What a bastard. She could practically feel him snickering beneath his mask, and she felt frustration bubbling up in her chest. He was annoying. The audacity of this man, laughing and causing trouble in the night when they clearly had a mission to continue tomorrow. She could actually feel the delight radiating off his form.

She jumped up from her spot and threw herself onto the man beside her, attempting to make a vicious grab for the throat so she could maybe shut him up for just a few seconds. He dodged easily, taking her wrists in his calloused hand and lowering them to rest on his chest. Still, he continued to laugh at her. She felt like an utter joke sitting there on his stomach, looking at him through loose strands of her hair. 

She grumbled under her breath, her cheeks puffing out full of embarrassment, "Stupid."

"Me? Stupid? Look at you."

She replied swiftly, "What about me? You're the one with that ugly grin on your face." Quickly, she snatched her hands out from under his to cross her arms over her chest. She rocked back a bit on her knees to get a better look at his indeed ugly face. 

Except he definitely wasn't ugly, and that grin was more devilishly handsome than anything else. And honestly, she felt herself starting to get flustered in the position she'd put herself in. Of course she didn't hate Kakashi. He was one of her friends and coworkers. It was just that sometimes he could be casually attractive and she found herself falling under his spell. 

He just looked so fucking good lying there, staring up at her with a glimmer in his dark eyes. She could see the smile outlined under his mask. His hands had felt warm and firm around her own fingers. She missed his touch, there she said it, any touch on her body from Kakashi Hatake felt like heaven. He was far too cute, and the soft contact between them drove her crazy.

She wanted to punch herself for thinking such silly things. This was Kakashi, one of her frenemies. Not boyfriend material. Stupid. Silly. 

If only he didn't look so good, Jesus christ. Get your brain out of the gutter, Y/N.

Little did she know, his mind was already waist deep in those damn gutters and he was loving it.

"You really think that?"

"What? That you're ugly?" She asked, tilting her head to the side just a bit as if to think about it. Only a second later, another mischievous smile crossed her lips. "Of course."

He lifted his fingers to slid along her waist and down to her hips, fingers curling ever so slightly around her curves. She shuddered as his hands slid down to hold the sides of her bare thighs in his hands, his warm, strong hands with the softest fingertips. She wanted to die.

Had they kissed before? Yes. We're they somewhat romantically involved? Maybe. Did that give him any good reason to rest his rough hands on her thighs like that? Probably, and her thoughts were running a mile a minute at this point. 

"Kakashi...stop that," she said softly, her voice lowering from how it was before. She suddenly felt a lot smaller, scared even. Hooking up with Kakashi wasn't something she planned on doing anytime in the near future, if at all. He was her friend, and she felt strange sitting in his lap with his hands all over her. It felt so right but wrong at the same time, like she was breaking the law. Well, laws of friendship that is.

She cared about Kakashi, more than she wanted to admit. He wasn't just a friend, he was something weirdly in between and she couldn't exactly put her finger on how she felt about him. All she knew was that if she was going to have sex with this man, it would be the right way. They would have to date first. She wasn't just gonna sleep around this time. He was different. 

She wanted to impress him, to make him smile and laugh, to take him out to dinner and hold hands on their way home, to kiss at her doorstep. She wanted all of that before any of this.

His hands dropped from her sides and she crawled away from him, grabbing her blanket and cradling herself in it. "Listen, Y/N, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I know, it's not your fault. Don't worry about it."

It was quiet. Just the sounds of both their breaths filling the air and the crickets chirping in the darkness outside. She shifted in her blanket to rest her head on the wall, leaning against it with her shoulder. He remained on his back, staring up at the empty ceiling tiles. 

It was now so terribly awkward. Thanks, Y/N.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You, uh, don't snore all that much. I was just teasing you."

"Thanks," she exhaled. "You're not as ugly as I said."

"I know."

Wow, Kakashi. So modest.

Her words fell right into place as she spoke, emotions slipping out with each breath. She looked at his profile in the dark, the way his bedhead stood on end, his nose pointed upward and his lips sat calmly, the curve of his chin under the edge of his mask, the way his eyes just sat there unmoving and gentle, brows soft above the eye. She took in all of him as she confessed, "I just don't want it to be like this. I don't want to fall for you this way."

"I get it."

"I just think that you and I could be something different. You're not like the other guys to me, at least, I don't think of you that way," she took a deep breath. He still stared deep in the ceiling, and somehow it made her comfortable enough to confess everything she'd been feeling. It was as if he could just lay there and listen without words forever. "I don't want you to just fuck me before we really...well I don't know, we've never even been on a date. I...I think I'm ready to fall in love with you."

"Then let's do it."

She peered over at him, lips agape with surprise. She hadn't expected much at all, but certainly not that. "What?"

"When we get back to the village, I'll take you on a date, more if things go well. We can take it as slow as you want," he told her, turning to lay on his side, facing her. He watched as she cuddled further into the comforter, only a peek of her face in his view. She was actually kinda cute through all those worn and torn layers. "I don't think I can let you go this time."

"Really?"

"Anything for you."

She ducked her head down to stare at the hardwood beneath her feet. She was overwhelmed by how nice he was being. Normally, it didn't go like this. Things normally got sexual so quick there wasn't even a chance for these sorts of conversations. It was just different with Kakashi. She could say no to him and expect better, because she knew he could deliver. "No one has ever treated me like this before."

He smiled. "Well, it's about time someone did."

"Can you hold me?"

"Come on." He lifted his arm up with the covers attached so she could crawl over and burrow herself next him, tucked right against his side. He rested his arm around her shoulders and held her close to his chest. Things were looking good for the both of them. Better than they had in a long time.

He wished this kind of thing could last forever. The beating of her heart, the laughter in her voice, the shine in her eyes. He just wished he could have bottled it all up and held it close to him for the rest of his life. 

But he waited too long, and the opportunity slipped from his grasp.

______

The pair fought hard. Kakashi was better than her, everyone knew that. The enemy targeted her for that reason. It was clear as day that she was important to Kakashi, and the enemy quickly caught onto that. He was quick to bring the knife to her neck, pressing the woman’s back tightly to his chest. The blade stung her skin, already piercing the flesh from the bit of pressure he applied.

She cried out, feeling a trail of blood begin running down her neck. Her nails clawed at his arm, desperate to get him to release her from his clutches, but he persisted. One hand held onto her chin tightly, keeping her face from thrashing, and the other continued to apply more and more pressure into the blade. 

For the first time in a long time, she found herself feeling unrestricted fear. She was scared. Scared for her life. She’d never been in this situation before, feeling so completely and utterly helpless like a deer caught in the headlights. Kakashi was right there, she should have known everything was going to be okay. After all, she had the village’s strongest veteran on her side.

It wasn’t the pain that caused the tears to bubble up in the corners of her eyes, no, it was Kakashi. The way his eyes darted over to the them, and she could feel his heart beginning to race, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, and the fear creeping up into his heart. He never wore his heart on his sleeve. He was so closed off, sometimes she could only get a wisp of emotion from him, especially the ones that showed such vulnerability. 

Now it all seemed to come tumbling out like a landslide. She was drowning in fear, his and her own. 

“Let her go,” he called out, practically pleading with the man across from him, but it was in vain. 

“Like I’d listen to some filthy leaf shinobi,” the spy replied angrily. He felt so hot, burning up with so much anger she wanted to throw up. What had they done to upset him this badly? Her jaw was starting to ache from being held so tightly, and she swore she could taste blood running down her throat. This was bad. This was so terribly, miserably bad. 

Kakashi stood there, his hands hovering at his sides, unknowing of what to do. She was already bleeding out all over the collar of her shirt. If he made a single move, the man could easily finish the job with one fatal swipe. The copy nin felt cornered. Hopeless. What was there left to do? He’d let the love of his life fall in the hands of some petty criminal. 

Come on, think of something. Anything. Just think of something.

“What? You upset I’ve got your little girlfriend here?”

God, he was so desperate. The man taunting him didn’t help at all. He just felt himself spiralling deeper into hopelessness. He bargained, “Please, just let her go. I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

It wouldn’t work though. This man was set in his ways, and there was no changing that. He came into this fight knowing exactly what he wanted to do. And he was going to finish the job. 

“This is for what you shinobi have done to my people,” he sneered before she felt the knife dip further into her neck, sliding painfully across her throat. He dropped her head from his grasp, and as soon as he had, her body crumbled down to the ground. She collapsed in a bleeding heap on the dirt. 

The criminal quickly ran into the forest behind them, getting lost among the trees and the bushes within seconds. None of that mattered though. Kakashi could only run over to her limp body lying there on the ground, sputtering and coughing on thick blood filling her throat and lungs. Her cheeks and lips painted red now from spitting so much up. He fell to his knees beside her body, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a tear drip down his face.

She cried, hot tears running down her cheeks into the dirt on either side of her head. She cried for her pathetic self, having been attacked and injured in this way. She cried for Kakashi, feeling the pain and sadness, the panic, radiating off his form. She took in every emotion he was feeling, wanting to savor being with him for as long as she had, to fully take him in one last time. 

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, his hands running over her hair and cheek, smearing blood on her skin and his fingers. “We’ll bring you back to the village. The Hokage can fix you.” His words were so soft into the air, like if he spoke any louder he would hurt her.

They both knew that none of what he was saying was true. She was as good as dead.

She lifted her hand weakly to sit on his other hand. “I…” The woman took a labored breath.. “Love you, Kashi.”

“No, no, no. Don’t say that,” he hushed her, feeling his heart grow heavier in his chest with every second that passed, every look at her bloody neck and face, her laboring chest as she took hopeless breaths. He was falling apart in this moment, desperate for fate to change, for her to magically be better. He choked, “You can’t die, Y/N.”

“It’s okay.” Her words were slurred and hard to hear, liquid bubbling up in her throat to the point she was almost incomprehensible. “I love you,” she confessed once again. She wanted those to be her last ever words to him, the words he would remember for the rest of his life. To know someone out there loved him more than anything else.

He had to know that he was her everything. He was the best thing that ever happened to her, and she was going to miss him so terribly wherever her soul went after this. She just wished there was more time to tell him everything she felt. Yet, time was passing faster than she thought, and all those words felt impossible.

“I love you, too. You have to live for me. Just keep breathing, it's going to be okay.”

“It...hurts.”

More misery erupted his chest, and he found himself wanting to scream. Tears dripped steadily down both his cheeks now as he watched this woman die in front of him, one of the only people he truly needed in his life. “I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry I let this happen to you.”

She nodded faintly, her eyes beginning to close. He was starting to panic. Was this his last moment to say goodbye? Their time together was so short, how was this fair? He’d already lost everyone he ever cared about, and now this? He felt like the gods were laughing down at him and his misfortune. 

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know how I’ll do this without you.”

She didn’t respond, but she was still breathing. 

“Y/N, please.”

And he watched as her chest fell still and her labored breaths were silent on his ears. He found himself gathering her form up against his chest, her head cradled in the crook of his neck, just sobbing into her hair, weeping for a long lasting love gone in an instant. 

 He carried her body home that day himself. Something he never anticipated happening, but should have prepared for. He always thought he was going to watch as someone else carried her home to him, death long gone before he had the chance to see. He never thought it would be right in front of him. He thought he could protect her, save her from the clutches of fate. He was so wrong.

Kakashi was alone once again.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Dennis Rafkin

(Not my gif)(Requested by @bruciecaboosie​ )

(Matthew Lillard is like ...really attractive.)

- You and Dennis met through Cyrus. You worked as the mans assistant, putting together different aspects of his “missions” and taking care of whatever he told you to; oftentimes things he couldn’t be bothered to deal with himself. 

- It was during one of these “missions” that the two of you first met. Cyrus had only taken a few seconds to introduce the two of you before you were being ushered into the middle of the action. 

- As per usual, Dennis was swept up into one of his fits as the entity came closer which prompted you to kneel down beside him and try to see if he was alright. He quickly shouted for you not to touch him before apologizing, sounding a lot like he was in excruciating pain while he tried to calm himself. 

- You assure him that its okay before insisting that the two of you have to move, and quickly, before you’re right in the middle of the line of fire when the “bullets start to fly”. And thus, the two of you began to work closely with each other.

- Dennis has a habit of attaching himself to people quickly and you’re no exception to this. The minute you show yourself to be a fairly trustworthy and caring individual, the two of you find yourselves practically attached at the hip. 

- On top of him trusting you, he also sort of has a thing for you; something that’s becoming more and more apparent to him the more time you spend together, so that’s even more of an excuse for him to try and stick close to your side. 

- You’re on another one of your “missions” when he confesses his feelings for you. 

- The two of you had been hiding, concerned with not dying as a particularly dangerous “individual” wrought havoc on the rest of your team. He’d said that he had to tell you something, you asked if it could wait in disbelief, he said no, repeated the word and followed it up with a “I’m sorry, but I have to say it. I’m in love with you, okay? I’m sorry.”. 

“God, you couldn’t have told me that like an hour ago?” You scoffed incredulously but half heartedly.

- Well, of course you make it out alive; panting and frazzled but alive. You’re sitting across from each other on the floor when he looks over at you and; out of breath, asks if you want to go get some coffee with him sometime. You can’t help but laugh before you manage to pull yourself together and agree. 

- So, for your first date, the two of you go to a coffee shop, grab some hot drinks and walk around town together, talking and getting to know each other without the pressure of your boss being a few feet away. 

- The two of you share your first kiss a few months into your relationship since he; you know, can’t really touch people. You were sitting with him in his apartment after one of your dates when he asked if he could try something. 

- Before you knew it, he’d gotten up and walked over to you, leaning down and hesitating before softly pressing his lips to yours. 

- The kiss didn’t last very long but you didn’t mind; even if he was a bit disappointed in himself. You merely smiled at him and reassured him that you have all the time in the world to figure things out. 

- There’s not a ton of affection in your relationship for obvious reasons but the two of you try your best.

- You definitely have to take things slow and let him initiate a lot of what goes on between the two of you. Be prepared for him to pull away quickly or need to take a break for a while. 

- Soft, chaste kisses. 

- Quick, rough and intense kisses; usually after something dangerous happens to him and the both of you are just glad that he’s alive.

- Locking pinkies. 

- Him leaning down; most likely a bit awkwardly considering how tall he is, to press a kiss on your lips out of the blue.

- The two of you don’t cuddle but you do sleep in the same bed because you both like being able to wake up next to each other.

- Something tells me that once he’s used to you and your memories, touching you becomes somewhat of a solace to him. You and your life is familiar; compared to anything else he could encounter, so it’s like an escape whenever he touches you.

- He tends to call you honey, baby, or some kind of specific nickname that pertains to you/your relationship; usually when you’re alone.

- He has a habit of introducing you as his girlfriend to anyone and everyone. He just likes everyone knowing that you’re together right off the bat; he’s very proud. 

- He gives you quite a few compliments. Oftentimes they’re more on the teasing and playful side; i.e. him calling you hot, but other times they’re more sincere.

- Making each other laugh. He loves seeing you happy and knowing that it’s because of him.

- Meet your friendly neighborhood pushover. Dennis has such a hard time saying no to people; especially you. He may act all annoyed and be blunt; mainly because he’s annoyed at himself, but he’ll do what you ask.

- There was this time where you wanted a teddy bear or something similar and he thought that it was completely ridiculous yet, since he’s Dennis, he later bought it for you as a surprise. Now every time he sees you hugging it, or sees it laying on your bed, he can’t help but feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

- You can’t really hide anything from him considering with one touch, he can know your entire life story.

- Well, at least he’ll always remember your birthday and anniversary, right?

- Dennis doesn’t have a ton of money; Cyrus kind of fucked him in that regard, so he isn’t going to spend a fortune on you; because he doesn’t have it, but occasionally, he’ll get you a really nice thoughtful gift.

- On your anniversary, he got you a simple silver band with a little message engraved on the inside and you wear it pretty much everyday.

- Staying in a lot. Being around a ton of people that can potentially touch him, or accidentally walking near a place that people have died in, is a bit dangerous when you’re with him so the two of you tend to play it safe and make your own fun.

- Movie marathon and television dates. He’s not a huge fan of horror/thrillers but it’s sometimes funny to watch them just to see his reactions.

- Café dates; especially if you’re doing research for Cyrus together.

- Taking walks together.

- The two of you will go grocery shopping together and then cook yourselves dinner at his apartment. It’s a regular thing for the two of you; even though he himself isn’t the greatest cook.

- Wearing his sweaters. In a; sort of, weird way, it makes him feel closer to you.

- He doesn’t have a ton of friends or people that believe him when he’s talking about anything ghost related so when the two of you are together, he tends to ramble/talk a lot.

- Getting to learn and hear a lot about ghosts and other supernatural entities.

- Carefully patching and cleaning him up when things go haywire during your “missions”.

- Helping him explain things to people so that they can understand what’s going on before he has an aneurism.

- Giving him warning looks when he really needs to watch his mouth.

- He has a habit of acting like your dad, scolding you like a frustrated father would whenever you do the same stupid stuff that he does.

- As nervous and oftentimes neurotic as he is, he’s always quick to reassure you that it’s okay no matter what’s going on. He might not be the most patient but he tries his best to make sure you don’t feel bad or get too scared.

- Comforting him and trying to make sure he doesn’t blame himself too much for what happened during his time with Cyrus. “Funnily” enough, even though you were involved as well, he only ever seems to blame himself.

- Considering his ...condition, you’ll occasionally find yourself needing to try and comfort him while he’s having a “moment”. You’ll usually just stay by his side and make sure he knows that you’re there for him while he goes through the motions.

- Trying to help calm him down during stressful situations, he’s not the greatest at controlling his emotions.

- Making sure he has and takes his medication when he needs to.

- You’re pretty much the only person that he really trusts so expect him to be sort of clingy with you, only asking you questions and insisting that the two of you stay together when everyone’s splitting up.

- Do you know how much he wants to touch you? This poor boy yearns to be able to just hold your hand. Rest assured, whatever you’re feeling in regards to not being able to hold your boyfriend, he’s feeling it 100x harder.

- Sometimes you’ll just have to reassure him that you’d rather have a fucked up, abnormal life with him than a normal life with someone else; or otherwise without him. 

- And on that note: sometimes, he just really needs to hear that you care about him and that you think that he’s a good person.

- He’s an incredibly jealous person but it’s because he thinks of himself as a mess and believes that you’d be better off with someone else. He won’t do anything if he doesn’t have a reason to but the minute a guy seems flirty with you, he’s immediately at your side and being passive aggressive with them. 

- Overprotective. Dennis; to put it simply, has seen some shit so he’s constantly looking out for both you and him. It’s also helpful that he can; occasionally, see into the future and know when somethings going to happen. 

- There’s definitely a good few fights in your relationship, I mean, you saw how he can be. That being said, they don’t last very long. Usually, there’s a bit of yelling and him cursing; just in general not at you, before things are settled.

- He’ll apologize just as quickly; and neurotically, as the fight began since he usually doesn’t even mean to start one. It’s pretty easy to forgive him since; even though he can be a bit of a jerk, most of the time his reactions are understandable; as much as you’d like to not admit it.

- There's a lot of I love you’s in your relationship. If he can’t touch you than he; at least, needs to let you know how much you mean to him verbally, right?

- It’s going to be obvious throughout your relationship that Dennis is in it for the long run. He wouldn’t do all that he does; trying to overcome his psychic challenges, if he wasn’t so rest assured, he’s planning for a future with you.

[moonctzeny]

Cygnus

pairing: royal!ten  x fem!reader x villain!doyoung

genre: angst, smutty elements but not anything too much

word count: 4,8k

warnings: ‘forced’ marriage, mentions of death, blood, stabbing (not too descriptive I promise), manipulation

summary: “When your father, the king, gets brutally assasinated in his royal quarters, you realise how big of a threat the opposing Indigo kingdom really is. In order to further protect both your kingdoms, prince Ten proposes a unification by proposing to you. Amidst your duty as his queen and your inappropriate meetups with your royal advisor, Doyoung, you’re not sure where your heart really belongs”

a/n: This fic has a lot of referencing of the past. Just to clarify: if a part is written in the past tense and is inside the separators, it’s y/n recounting past events

requested by/written for my dear French Anon ❤️❤️ I hope you like it 🥰

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The starry night spreads like a veil over the kingdom. Your kingdom, ever since your head was adorned with a veil of your own. The moonlight, pale and bright, illuminates all the stories of the night. From the mothers that kiss their children goodnight, praying that the impending war doesn’t find them in their adolescence, to the whispering silhouettes of the King’s traitors, plotting with the opposing kingdom to overrule his reign.

Like the weeping willows of your royal garden, you sit alone in the dance hall’s balcony, gazing at the sky’s unknown that always felt so comfortable to you. How dull and drab you must look, even in the ornate gown you were in, amidst all the decorations and joyous music of your wedding’s one year anniversary. Maids, peasants, guards- they all congratulated you on your happy marriage, wishing the queen a long life of prosperity. Even Sirius, the prettiest diamond in the sky, seemed to shine like a spotlight for tonight’s celebration.

“y/n? It’s time for our royal dance.”

You recognized the silky voice to be that of the King’s, your longest companion other than the stars. In spite of all of your misery, Ten, the man you swore to hold in weakness and in health, till death do you part, was someone you valued deeply.

You first met the prince in your early teens, travelling to his neighboring kingdom with your father. He was still a young boy, bothered with the blemishes on his face and excited to play with the snow covering the windowsills of his room. The only person who could relate with the insecurities and troubles of an heir like yourself.

“Why are the peasants hungry while we throw away most of our food?”

"Why does the Indigo kingdom want to declare war on us when we both have enough wealth to live on?"

 "Do you think that when we grow up, we will become just like our parents?"

The prince was thoughtful and gentle, a pacifist in the wrong position. Talented in the arts, in dance, in anything that is as beautiful as he is.  

His beloved subjects do not know it, but the nickname Ten, was given to him by you. 

It was probably the third time you met the prince, excited to spend time with your only friend just a day before your 15th birthday. He had been bugging you over what you wanted from him as a present, the beautiful jewelry and dresses his father gifted you seeming too impersonal to him. You shook off his offers, insisting that him being there with you, in your castle’s terrace, was more than enough. 

You were gazing at your beloved stars and he was gazing at you, rambling on and on about the celestial objects in the sky.

“And what star is this?”, he asked curiously, eyes reflecting the constellations and sparkling in the night. Chittaphon, unlike the countless teachers insisting astronomy for a princess was useless, was endlessly entertained by your knowledge and always thirsty to learn more. His finger was pointing at Deneb, one of the brightest stars of the night sky.

“This star is part of a greater ten-star constellation, Cygnus”

“Cygnus?”

“It means swan in greek”, you explained and he squinted his eyes cutely, trying to find the resemblance to the bird.

“According to greek mythology, Phaethon, the son of Helios the sun god, demanded to ride his father’s sun chariot for a day. Unfortunately, he 

was unable to control the reins, forcing Zeus to destroy the chariot with a thunderbolt, with Phaethon drowning in the river Eridanus where it fell. Phaethon's lover, Cygnus, dived into the river for days on end to collect Phaethon's bones, in order to give him a proper burial. The gods were so touched by Cygnus's devotion and deep grief, that they turned him into a swan and placed him among the stars.”

Chittaphon, intrigued by the story, stopped plucking out the roots of the grass you were sitting on, and decided to lay his head comfortably on your lap. His hair looked so pretty that you couldn’t help but run your fingers through its softness, the intimacy making your heart skip a beat.

“That is my greatest fear”

You were so lost in your contentment that you’d almost miss his whispered confession. Placing your hands on his cheeks carefully, you turn his face so that he looks at you, and it takes everything in you not to lean down and kiss his pout away.

“Hm?”

“What if, when I finally take the reins of my father’s kingdom, I end up ‘drowning’ as well? What if I’m too weak to control them and someone stronger than me decides to destroy me?”

With a sigh, you look back up to the sky. As an only child and therefore sole heiress, the worry of leading a kingdom was the main cause of your night scares as well. You were just teenagers, still figuring out yourselves, but Chittaphon wasn’t some ditzy child. He didn’t care about the lushes and gold, he wasn’t power hungry. His idealism and ethos were admirable, and you felt safe knowing that when the time comes, he would be your ally.

“You’ll make a great king one day”

He smiles up at you, his happiness lighting up the night sky. He always shone the brightest.

“You really mean that?”

“I do. And if you don’t, I promise to collect your bones and bury you properly”

He laughed heartily at your joke, and you continued to braid his locks, counting the freckles on his face until your heartbeats synced with the other.

You just laid there, thinking the prince had fallen asleep in your arms, when he spoke again.

“I don’t know how, but one day I’ll gift you those ten stars. And it will be the best birthday present you’ll ever receive”

That’s how you got through adolescence, holding on to Ten’s promise, and dreaming of whatever life might offer you. And life seemed to be gentle on you, up until a couple of years ago. Up until the incident.

Ten takes your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles tenderly with his thumb, and leads you to the dance hall. The skin is scabbed and rough from you compulsively scrubbing it every time you take a bath. You’d watch the water endlessly run through your fingers, yet no amount of soap could flush the memory of the deep red of your father’s blood staining them.

It was a Friday like any other, a walk in the royal gardens at 6 and then your waltz dance class at 7. You replayed the new choreography over and over in your head, drunk in your instructor’s praises and wanting to show off. Skipping the steps of the stairwell leading up to the king’s room, you wish you had taken a jacket with you. Goosebumps started appearing on your arms, both from the cool night breeze and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Your father was the reason you started waltz lessons. “One day you’re going to marry a man to queendom and you’ll better be able to keep up with me on our father-daughter dance”. You’d just giggle and tell him you had plenty of time till that day, you were just stepping on your twenties, no reason to step on a dancefloor too! But alas, one dance recital from Ten and your father was sold on the idea of getting you to take some lessons. You chuckled to yourself. Come to think of it, your father just really loved Ten.

You reach the heavy door of his suite, opened by just a slice. While there was light coming from the room, illuminating the hallway you were standing at, there was no one guarding it. You found it a little strange that the guard’s huge frame didn’t block your way from your father like he like always did, yet you were happy. Your father always acted colder to you around him.

“Dad, dad, look what I learned toda-“

The sight of his cold, lifeless body brought you to your knees. The cause of death was obvious, with the dagger shoved deep inside his guts, but if you asked anyone in the kingdom, they’d tell you he died from a bad heart. He loved heavy food, and alcohol, the meals suited to a king. No one other than a select few could know that the king was assassinated in his own bedroom.

But that was not your only secret.

You don’t know how, but Ten has managed to finally drag you in the middle of the dance hall. Your shoes clack against the marbled floors and the music brings you momentarily back to the now that you want to escape so badly. The music sounds familiar, you think, and you stay still for a second, trying to identify the song.

Your king brings you closer, one hand steady on your waist, the other keeping your fingers intertwined. He hums to the tune and looks at you with those eyes, those dark eyes that always hold a certain sadness in them. And when he starts to lead, it finally hits you that this is the song you got engaged to.

It was Ten’s idea, actually. With the rumours of a murder travelling to the neighboring kingdoms, including the Indigo kingdom making statements of invasive strategies against you, a form of alliance was clearly needed to be made. 

He showed up to the royal conference room, all dressed up and holding a bouquet of red roses. You could hear his heart thumping as he approached you, his hands sweaty and clammy when he held yours.

“My queen, there is no denying our kingdoms are in a crisis”. His familiar voice was comforting to you, yet the words seemed too formal to be leaving Ten’s mouth. “The Indigo kingdom has indirectly declared war on you. They are powerful, especially with the weapons they possess. And their men are notorious to be ruthless and as cold as ice.”

You gulped visibly, your mouth getting dry at the thought of your people getting as violently killed as your father. Looking at any place possible other than his eyes, you wondered why he took the time to pay you a visit, just to point out the things that you were already more than worried about.

“My kingdom has great soldiers, skilled and apt in martial arts, yet they miss one thing, one thing that your peaceful kingdom can offer mine. Your servants love you, my queen, and they are willing to do anything for you”. He stops and takes a breath, handing you the bouquet he had been holding in his other hand. “I know I would”

The sweet scent that hits your nose matches his sentiment, yet the glossiness in his eyes -that you finally picked up the courage to face- told you things would get bitter soon.

“Are you suggesting we form an alliance for the war? Our kingdoms might be on good terms now, yet our predecessors used to be enemies for hundreds of years. There is still a lot of mistrust weaved in the hearts of the people.”

“I know”, he said, his voice breaking lightly. A thorn from the bouquet pricked your skin as you saw him fall down on one knee, a drop of blood falling from your finger as a teardrop stained your face. “That’s why I am asking for your hand in marriage. Let our kingdoms become one”

You were the one who said ‘I do’, yet the decision was already taken for you. Your whole life, in fact, was painted right in front of your eyes, hues of marsala reds and hunter greens. Hues like the ones Ten put on his palette almost every night before you go to sleep.

You and Ten had never slept together. He insisted that it was never his intention when marrying you, and he’d completely respect your boundaries. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t had a thought of laying with him, as you helped him remove the drying paint off his fingers every night. You couldn’t ignore the twitch of your sensitivity as he saw you changing into your silk robe and nightgown, nor the heat of your face when he called you beautiful. His pretty voice was made for begging and teasing and singing out moans. With his flexibility and core strength, you could only imagine what he’d be like in the bedroom. Just the image of his feline eyes looking up at you from between your thighs sent chills down your spine.

That being said, you always felt a bit annoyed by his chivalry as he slipped through to the guest room to spend the night. Through his proposal, he had ridden you of the chance to choose your other half, doomed you to endless nights of loneliness and a cold half of the bed. He should’ve at least taken responsibility.

Not even the guards could know that the two of you didn’t share a bed, the alliance holding on the thin thread of facade you played out for everyone. Sweet kisses in the breakfast room, fake smiles and the silent mourning of your freedom. But that wasn’t your only secret.

You see a hand tapping lightly the velvet shoulderpads of the King’s suit, causing you to halt your dancing. A man, about half a head taller than Ten, successfully steals his attention from you.

“My king, may I steal the lovely queen for a dance?”

Kim Doyoung.

Tall, nice-mannered, lethally handsome. Your father’s trustiest advisor ever since he turned 18 and one of the most respected men in the castle. If the king is the jungle’s lion, then Doyoung surely is a jaguar, attacking his enemies unexpectedly, emerging from their blind spot. He is also your secret.

Kim was the one who found you crying over your fathers body, notifying the knights of the murder since you had no voice to scream for help. He offered you a shoulder to lean on during your grief, while helping you manage the kingdom in your inexperience. It was inevitable to come closer to the man you spent countless hours with at the royal meetings, who you wined and dined with daily, who led you through your duties and made everything make a little bit more sense.

The attraction you felt for him however, well, that was on you. 

It started one night, warm like this one, when the diplomatic settlements with a new kingdom took way too long to figure out, and the pair of you were stuck in his personal office at the early hours of the morning. 

Your hair was a frizzy mess, eyebags darkening the thin skin of your under eyes and all you could focus on was the ink slowly spilling from the metal tip of your pen. And Doyoung, though hardworking and diligent as always, showed the signs of exhaustion as well, stretching his neck from side to side to release the tension.

A crack from his joints grabbed your attention, or rather his skin that was glowing in the limelight. 

He was wearing a beautiful silk shirt, the fabric matching his rich stature and highlighting the delicate lines of his body. His collarbones, sharp like him, peeked from the buttons he had been unfastening, one by one, all the while keeping his eyes on yours.

Your mind wandered under his stare that did nothing short of stealing all oxygen from your lungs. Every slither of your bare skin that landed on it was starting to burn up, and you assumed that’s what his touch must feel like as well. You imagined unbuttoning the rest of his shirt yourself, giving his shoulders a little massage to help him relax. You’d run your hands down this torso, marking it lightly with your fingernails, until you felt that little line of hair right over his pelvis.

The thought is too sinful, so you return to the document in front of you, yet all of your concentration dissolves when the advisor suddenly places the back of his hand against your forehead. His touch is cool and refreshing against your hot skin, yet the proximity only raised the temperature of your body more.

“My queen, you look exhausted. Have you been sleeping properly since the… incident?”

You wince at the memory and shove it down your subconscious again, shaking your head as if the dark thoughts would just brush off of you.

“Not really. I keep tossing and turning. I lay on my bed and I just feel so- so lonely.”

Immediately realising how suggestive your words sound you put your hand over your lips, but Doyoung removes them, taking your raised hand in his and kissing the top.

“My duty as your advisor is to rid you of your worries, my queen. Apparently, I’m not doing a good job, so tell me”. You let your eyes fall on his plush lips, holding your breath as his sweet talk leaves them. He mouths the next words against your wrist, and you can feel every movement of his mouth against your sensitive skin. “What can I do to relieve your stress?”

You can’t stop staring at the smoothness of the junction of his neck so you leave a light layer of your lipstick on it, the pink hue against his pale skin reeling you back to reality.

“Advisor, this is not right”, you try to excuse, “I cannot allow myself to take advantage of your duties like that”

Your eyes stay glued on his neck, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in a chuckle. He guides your hand, that is still in his grasp, and boldy places it over his thigh, your pinky finger grazing against a hardness that is most definitely his-

“Can’t you see what you do to me? What does a man have to do to be yours for the night?”

And that’s how he ended up tangled in your sheets every night, sneaking in your room silently so that the guards don’t notice him. 

“It’s been one year, huh?”

You smell the citrusy after notes of wine in his breath, his lips slightly stained by the liquid. He looks just as addictive as the alcohol he consumed tonight, covered in the silk fabric that he loves so much.

“Have you been drinking again?”

“What else am I supposed to do when I see my queen dancing with that bastard?”

“That bastard is your king, yet you talk so lowly of him”

“And that king is your husband, but you were moaning my name on your wedding night”

You had changed into a white nightgown, the ivory dress discarded on your bathroom’s floor. The beads that were delicately weaved into the wedding gown sure were heavy, but that was not the reason you felt so suffocated in it. You had to sit there for hours, resenting everyone who made a toast for the husband and wife. The celebrations seemed endless, the wine abundant, their laughs maniacal. Your wedding ceremony was the image of luxury and opulence, yet you felt so poor.

Your feet led you to his room on their own, swollen and cut from all the dancing in heels. When Doyoung saw you, angry and choked up with all the injustice you felt, he offered to do what he was the best at. Distract you with his touches, his wet kisses, his sweet nothings. 

A pang of guilt ran through you the moment your back hit the wall, his body trapping you between the cold surface and the overwhelming heat of his body. You wondered if Ten was still sleeping in your newlyweds’ suite, if he was pretending that he dozed off, what he was thinking. You knew you were selfish for only thinking about your feelings, as if you were the only one forced into this marriage. But then Doyoung’s fingers danced on the hem of your dress, and your mind would go blank with lust.

“This is wrong”, you said out loud, a statement directed mostly at yourself rather than Doyoung.

“You coming here?”

“This. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to come this close to you”

“Divorce him”

You blinked back at him a couple times, trying to register what came so nonchalantly out of his mouth.

“Out of all people, advisor, you know exactly why I can’t”

His hand slid upwards, following the heat of your core, yet his fingers never touched where you needed him most. Small indentations were formed on the softness of your thighs, caused by his rings, and you wished the marks would stay forever. The shirt he wore as his sleepwear was oversized on his small frame, the iris tattooed on his shoulder peeking out from the fabric, as if it flowered on his skin.

“Out of all people, my queen, you know I can give you so much more than him”

As if knowing you’d argue with him, he started to nibble the skin on the middle of your neck, forcing your voice to bubble out muffled and weary.

“But advisor-“

“Say my name”

He let the pad of his finger fick your clit, and you moan “Doyoung” out, the name addictive on the tip of your tongue. So you say it again.

“Doyoung, I need you”

You felt his grin clearly against your skin, you wetness dripping on his fingers and covering his rings. His next words came out with a gravelly sound:

“I might hurt you, my queen”

Your whole life was laid out in front of you, from the wedding ring that weighted down your finger, to you laying on your royal deathbed, looking back at a lifetime that was never really yours. A linear progression to unhappiness, but you hated straight lines. 

“I want it to hurt”

Doyoung brings your body closer to yours, perhaps way closer than the etiquette allows, his hand on your lower waist sliding as near to your ass so as not to raise suspicion. He dips his head forward in a way that makes you think he’d leave a tipsy and careless kiss on your lips, but he whispers in your ear instead.

“Why haven’t you left him already?” The question is bold, especially between all these people, especially in the celebration of the wedding he asks you to break off. “I thought you said you’re mine”

“I am, but-“, your head moves towards the king’s direction, whose eyes are boring holes through the pair of you. You feel so small under his stare, suddenly feeling dirty. 

“He doesn’t even love you” 

There is a weird feeling bubbling in your stomach when you finally make eye contact with Ten, all his forms in which you’ve seen him through the years running in your mind. The innocent boy who became your best friend, the uncertain teenager who became your first love. The empathetic king, the mourning friend. The dependable spouse.

“But you do”, Doyoung concludes incredulously, his right eyebrow raised. It’s as if he tied together the pieces of a big jigsaw puzzle, the disappointment and anger and determination all trying to fit in his handsome features.

A hand draws your body away from Doyoung quite aggressively, and you quickly realise it’s Ten who has caught up with you. He intertwines your fingers together, pulling you into your previous dancing position but something is different this time.

“Times up. My wife’s too precious of a gem to let go of for longer”

Doyoung scoffs lightly, but hides it with a small bow to his king, leaving the two of you alone like he was asked. The tension between you and Ten is so thick it felt like all the lies you’ve told your kingdoms liquified into a thick substance that’s suffocating you now. His fingers are digging in your hips, in a possessive manner that’s a first for him, and he takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Do you ever think of me when you’re having sex with him?” 

The question catches you so off guard that you ungraciously step on his feet, wobbling on your heels until he helps you find your balance. 

“Why would you ask that?”

Now, you weren’t trying to play clueless, you know Ten is smart. You see the way he studies you and Doyoung, how he catches your secret glances, the electric touches. He surely has figured out where you sneak off every night and whose cologne you reek off the next morning. What you don’t understand, is where all his dislike for your advisor stems from.

Ten just chuckles bitterly, letting a puff through his nose, with a face of almost disgust when he looks at you.

“I don’t understand why I feel this way. I don’t understand why I care about you when you’re plotting with him against me. Why I feel jealous every time I see his filthy hands on you, or why I still think you deserve better.”

Plotting against him?

You’re left with a mouth gaped open, his harsh words both hurting you and confusing you as his voice gets even more strict than before.

“I thought maybe if I asked you to marry me you’d slowly distance yourself from him. I thought that maybe, just maybe, you reciprocate a handful of all the things I feel for you. But you still stay by his side, hanging from his every word”, he says it all in one breath and his eyes are watery when he addresses you again. “How can you sleep soundly next to me when you’re fucking the man that killed your father?”

A buzzing sound rings in your ears and you realise that you’re one breath away from falling apart.

And just like that, everything makes sense.

Why Doyoung was the first to find your father’s body, why the assasination seemed like an inside job. His sudden romantic interest in you and his pleas to have him as your king instead.

The indigo flower that decorated his body.

Ten shakes you a little, worried now at your sudden stiffness and the loss of blood from your face. He didn’t expect this reaction from you, didn’t expect to see your body shake with anger like this. You seem even more shocked than he was when he found out about Doyoung’s true nature, but, aren’t you the advisor’s accomplice in the plot of his overruling? 

“Wait, all this time- you didn’t know?”

Ten’s eyes widen as his body jerks forward, and you barely manage to catch him in your arms. A woman’s shriek resonates in the dance hall; the musicians halt their playing with a scratchy sound of the strings that stretch out of tune. And then you see the blood, staining the marble floor under Ten in small drops. You also see Doyoung emerging from behind him, with a maniacal look on his face, and a dagger in his hands. 

All hell breaks loose. The unarmed guests scream in fear, urging outside the dance hall in flocks. Glasses of wine shatter on the floor, women leave their heels behind in their hastiness to save themselves. You see the knights running in your direction, creating a shield of protection for you and the king, yet you notice that not all of them have gathered around you. A good part of them stand next to Doyoung, his face distorted in a mischievous grin. The extent of the betrayal in your kingdom shocks you, but when the first knight launches forward with his sword, you know you need to get Ten out of there immediately.

Throwing Ten’s arm over your shoulder, you drag him with difficulty all the way to the balcony, desperately trying to mute out the shrill sound of swords clashing in the process. You manage to bring him to safety, laying him down carefully in the same spot he found you in before, his head on your lap. After unbuttoning his shirt, you inspect the stab under his ribcage, and you swallow a scream at the sight of the deep wound. The most you can do is rip a big piece of cloth from your skirt, tying it up tightly around his waist, and wait until the fight is over. 

You see clear drops falling on his face that is turning sickly pale and you realise you’re crying. Holding his face between your hands, you get reminded of those days you went starseeing, of those moments of absolute peace with him that you wished would last forever. His body is cold and the cloth is turning burgundy, but he has the most tranquil smile on his face as he looks up at you. 

“Stay with me, please”, you sob over his rigid body, hugging it tightly as if his existence will just slip right through your fingers. “Live with me, and I’ll gift you all the stars in the sky”

[gureishi]

Saeyoung + 13? Or Saeyoung + 11?

[417]

Of COURSE, my friend~

Oh boy, this one was fun to do. I really hope you enjoy it ♡

thirteen: left your mark on me

Saeyoung X Reader, T, words: 2643

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

It’s the first time Saeran has ever texted you.

Technically, you think—heart pounding—that’s not true. Him texting you was, you suppose, the catalyst for everything that’s happened to you over the last few months. But the Saeran you know now—the quiet, tired boy who’s just recently started saying hello to you when you show up at his home—never. Certainly not.

Your hands tremble as you swipe to open his message. Something’s wrong, you think, because why else would he reach out to you? You feel your heartbeat in the roof of your mouth and say a prayer in your head. Be okay be okay be okay be okay…

“Come over,” says the text.

What?

“Is everything okay?” you text back with one hand, already tripping across your room, grabbing a jacket. Be okay be okay be okay be okay…

He answers immediately. He types fast, like his brother.

“Yeah,” he says. You let out the breath you’ve been holding. “Come talk to him. I don’t want to.”

You pause, one arm in your jacket. Come talk to him? That ambiguous phrase could mean so many things, and god, you want to know more, but you can’t want to press him—that he reached out at all is a huge step, one you wouldn’t dare jeopardize.

“Be right there,” you text back, stuffing your other arm into your jacket, slipping into shoes. You keep your phone in your hand as you throw the door open, taking the steps two at a time, but he doesn’t text you again. Of course he doesn’t—he’s said what he needed to say.

You put on loud music in the car, feeling the need to drown out the sound of your heartbeat. You roll down the window even though the wind blows your hair into your eyes, making it hard to see. You go over the messages again and again in your head: talk to him, he said. Talk to him about what?

Your music pounds over the speakers, rocking the car a little, and you grip the steering wheel slightly too hard. You’ve just missed rush hour and the traffic is dying down, so you make good time, driving just the tiniest bit over the speed limit. He’d scold you for it, you think—he’s always admonishing you for driving too fast, even though he pushes his fancy little cars to their limits on the empty dirt roads around the bunker. Hypocrite.

You take the exit, follow the street as it loops round and round, make the turn-off onto the unmarked road that leads to his home. The stars are starting to come out now.

You slow down as you see the bunker looming in the distance; from the outside, it’s ominous, and yet it fills you with an inexplicable warmth, flips your stomach around.

You shout the password at the garage without stopping, grinning as the first door opens for you. You half-expect to find him here, body mostly hidden under one of his cars, mysterious tools littering the ground around him. He’s often here when he’s sulking—today, though, the garage is empty, dark and dank. You pull into the one parking spot he’s left open for you—as far as possible from his cars, dressed for nighttime in their little protective hoods. I can park, you think grumpily. He doesn’t trust me.

But you know this isn’t true, and it’s confirmed again as you slip out of your car, keys in hand, and step cautiously toward his main door.

“Welcome,” it says to you in it’s robo-voice.

This is new.

“Šukran,” you say.

And without any further prompting—without questions, or quizzes, or nearly impossible translations, it opens. Almost as if it recognizes the sound of your voice.

Huh.

You kick off your shoes, tossing them into the jumble by the door. Saeyoung’s are heaped in a pile, some upside down and sideways; Saeran’s are lined up nearly beside his, in a perfect line as if to say “look, this is how it’s done.” This makes you smile.

Neither twin is in the living room. There’s a light under Saeran’s door, but you leave him be.

Anxiety building in the pit of your stomach, you pad down the hall in your socked feet. Saeyoung’s office is dark, but there’s light on in his bedroom. This, by itself, is unusual—without you here, it’s rare that he goes into that room at all.

You knock softly on the door, and when he doesn’t answer you push it open.

“It’s me,” you call softly, squinting as your eyes adjust. The room is as bright as the rest of the bunker is dark; all the fluorescent lights on are, starkly illuminating the black and yellow decorations. There’s barely any empty space on the walls, and it reminds you of his mind—so crammed with thoughts that there’s no place to rest.

In spite of his near-inhuman senses, he doesn’t see you at first.

He’s sitting on the floor, back propped against the side of the bed, headphones over his ears. His eyes are closed, knees tucked up to his chest. He looks small, like this—like you could scoop him up in your arms and carry him away.

“Hi,” you say, a little louder.

He jumps, eyes flying open, headphones slipping off one ear. He makes a spluttering noise that could be “huh?” or “hi” or just “haaaaah!”

You smile.

“Saeran didn’t tell you I was coming, then?”

“N-no, I…Saeran?” He blinks up at you as though he doesn’t quite believe you’re there. It’s then that you notice the sunken-in look about him: his eyes are clouded and sleepy, a little red-rimmed. His cheeks are pale.

You sink onto the floor beside him; you copy his posture, tucking your knees to your chest.

“Saeran told me to come talk to you,” you admit, looking down. You’re not sure why, but now that you’re here, you feel a little embarrassed. “So I did.”

“He…he…” Saeyoung looks lost for words. A part of you—a little bitter, self-conscious part—wonders if he wishes you hadn’t come. As if he senses what you’re thinking, he spins abruptly to face you, sitting cross-legged. He moves fast: in an instant, you’re almost nose-to-nose. “Sorry,” he says quietly, and you feel his breath on your face; your cheeks burn. “I’m soooo happy to see you, kitten. I was just…ah, surprised.”

It’s hard to breathe with him close like this. You bite your lip.

“I’m happy to see you, too,” you tell him.

And you are. His hair’s a little messed up, like he’s been running his hands through it, and there’s a sparkle in his eyes now—though he’s still got that harrowed, tired look about him.

“I, uh…” He looks down, his face reddening a little. “I was actually wishing you were here, earlier. I should’ve just called you myself.”

He pushes up his glasses and rubs his eyes with one shaky hand.

“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong?” you ask.

He sighs, and you feel like maybe he’s been half-holding his breath all day.

“Not really,” he says.

“Saeyoung.”

He peers at you through his fingers; you feel you must look foolish with the stern expression you’re making, but he smiles.

“Oh, I just adore you,” he groans, now dropping his face into both hands. “I can’t resist you, you know.”

“I know.” Gently, you place a hand on his knee; he twitches in response.

“It’s something silly,” he warns, voice muffled by his hands. Suddenly, he tips forward; you realize what he’s doing just in time and shift your weight so his head lands on your shoulder. His breath is on your collarbone now, and a shiver runs through your body.

“I’m sure it’s not,” you say.

He exhales again, and fleetingly, you wonder if he’s doing this on purpose—breathing on the exposed skin of your shoulder just to tease you. Even gloomy like this, he can’t resist the urge to try and rile you up.

“I guess I sort of…realized something,” he mutters, voice low. You have to tilt your head down to hear him. 

“Yes?”

“Having Saeran here is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he murmurs. He’s almost whispering, as if he’s afraid to be heard. “One of the greatest,” he adds, grazing your wrist with his thumb, calloused and rough and wonderful. 

You hum your affirmation, not wanting to interrupt now that he’s talking.

“But…” He trails off as if he’s not quite sure how to explain it. His head is still on your shoulder and you can’t see his face; with your free hand, you gently brush his hair off his forehead. “My whole life,” he continues, a little more confidently, “I’ve just had one thing I’m trying to do. Everything I’ve done has been about making sure he’s safe. Now that I’ve got him, I…”

“Don’t know what to do next?”

He twists his head sideways—like a cat, you think, seeking out attention. You tangle your hand in his hair, pulling it a little, and you swear he purrs.

“Yeah,” he admits, voice breathy. “I’m not sure what I’m…here for, now.”

“Saeyoung.” You say his name firmly—something has dawned on you. You straighten abruptly and he pulls back if as startled. He’s still got that weary look, like he’s spent the day like this, buried under a pile of his own thoughts. “Saeyoung, has anyone ever asked you what you want before?”

“What do you mean?” He sits up straight too: faces you, fingers still gently gripping your wrist.

“Listen,” you say. “I know you want to live together with Saeran, and now you do. And you want him to be safe and happy. But aside from those things, what do you want?”

You can tell he’s puzzled; he cocks his head thoughtfully.

“I don’t, um…”

“Try to think.”

“I mean, I…”

He’s got this sort of helpless look about him, and you can’t take it anymore. You take his face in both your hands, gently holding his cheeks—which are flushed, almost feverish. Touching his face makes your body tingle.

“Let’s start small,” you tell him. His eyes are so big and bright behind his glasses and you feel a strange impulse to kiss his eyelashes. “Tell me one thing you want right now.”

His eyes lock with yours and then you see his face flush—if possible—even darker. His gaze trails down your face, lingering on your lips.

“Well…” he lilts, tilting his head to the side. “There is one thing I wanna do, but—I mean, ahh, I would say that I’m thinking about…”

“I’m gonna help you,” you whisper, hands still on his cheeks. “Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.”

His face is red—oh, so red.

“Well, the thing is, I…I really want you to kiss me,” he murmurs. Finally. The buzzy air between you was becoming almost unbearable.

You lean forward and he waits, patient, still, longing. He’s already so close; you ghost your lips over his and he melts into you instantly. You swipe your tongue over his bottom lip.

When you pull away he’s panting, eyes cloudy.

“Good,” you tell him. “What else do you want?” 

“I…ah…” His voice sounds almost slurred: he’s overwhelmed, you think, by the way you’ve taken control. There’s a sort of dazed smile dancing over his lips.

“Tell me,” you urge. “Think of this as practice. I’m gonna teach you how to ask for what you want if it kills me, Choi Saeyoung.”

Oh, the look on his face is wonderful: delighted and spellbound.

“I want, ah…um, th-this,” he says—which isn’t really a request, but it’s a start. He takes your hand in his and guides it upwards, pushes your fingers into his hair.

“You want me to pet you?”

“Yeah, like…like how you did before.”

You comb your fingers through his messy curls, separating the strands with your fingertips. And you face is still so close to his, and he looks so hopelessly adoring, so you lean forward and kiss him again: once, quick and soft.

“Can you, uh…can you do what you did before? With my hair?” he asks weakly. What you did before…? 

Oh.

You tangle your fingers in his hair a little more roughly, pulling it, and he squeaks and kisses you again, this time with unbound enthusiasm. You feel like you’ve unlocked a secret weapon.

Hand buried in his hair, you kiss just his lower lip, then the tip of his nose, his cheek, his jaw. You trail kisses down the side of his neck and he inhales sharply.

“Will you do that again?” he asks.

“This?” You kiss his neck again, gently, just under the curve of his jaw.

“Y-yes, but um…harder.”

Interesting. “Do you want me to?” you ask him—because this is practice, after all; you’re helping him—not just satisfying your own curiosity about how much he’d squirm if you just…nibbled him a little.

He giggles, high-pitched and awkward. “Mmmm…yes, I want you to,” he mutters, and that’s enough for you.

You take the smooth skin between your teeth, biting down, and he yelps. You were right—he does squirm, wiggling around like a fish. You suck the skin into your mouth, biting a little harder.

And by the time you pull away he looks dizzy; there’s a beautiful, silly grin on his face.

“That’s gonna leave a mark,” you say softly, touching the already-reddening skin with your fingertip. 

“I…think I like that,” he says, with some surprise.

“Good job,” you tell him, opening your arms—he eagerly leans into you, rests his head on your chest. “That was, uh…good practice.”

He laughs, warm and open and sleepy, and you wrap your arms around him.

“Excellent practice,” he murmurs. “I’m gonna need a lot more practice, though, so…”

“I’ve got you,” you tell him. You plant a kiss on the very top of his head and he hums. “I want you to start thinking about other stuff you want too, though. Okay? Life stuff.”

He gets comfortable, snuggling sleepily into you. He’s exhausted himself worrying, you think; he needs to power down that gigantic brain.

“Aaaaanything?” he sings, his tone lighter now, more relaxed.

“I mean…” Oh no.

“I want a hundred cats!”

“Saeyoung.”

“I can get them and squish them all and have them all sleep in my bed with me?!”

“Saeyoung…”

“And make a cat army and ride into battle on the back of a giant cat?”

“No.”

“Heeeeey,” he whines, and you squeeze him tighter, stroking his beautiful, messy, overwrought head. “You said anything.”

“Within reason, honey.”

He murmurs something only half-coherent about horse-sized cats and nuzzles into your chest. You wonder how much he’s slept in the past few days, stewing over his future. It’s normal to worry about these things, you think—but for Saeyoung, who’s never once thought about his future, it’s nearly impossible.

But this is what you want for him. You want to see him make choices for himself—to learn how to put his happiness first.

“One cat,” you murmur into his hair. “Let’s start with one cat.”

He hums, head heavy.

“Three,” he mumbles. “One for each of us.”

“Sure, baby,” you tell him, curling a lock of his thick red hair around your fingertip. He’s so soft and helpless like this—dozing off curled up in your arms, humming softly as you pet his head. “If that’s what you want,” you say, “I’ll make sure it happens.”

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

@currentlyprocrastinating @thesirenwashere  @ultrasupernini @cro0kedme @otomefoxystar @dawn-skies06 @nad-zeta @hunterelys @pamakali @strwbryflvr

[collisiondiscourse]

on the wonder duo (part 1)

(BNHA Analysis Post Ahead! This isn’t explicitly romantic, but it is an analysis of the relationship between the two most popular characters in BNHA--Katsuki Bakugou and Izuku Midoriya. Split into two posts because I realized that this was gonna be long as HELL)

yall ever think about the fact that the wonder duo is perfectly set up in so that bakugou and deku together are the better version of all might?

bc like. ive been thinking.

everyone knows the win to save and save to win parallel. How they are supposedly two halves of a whole perfect hero (which, previously, was defined as all might)

but ever since bakugou and deku started working as one—growing together to win AND save and continuously reminding each other that they shouldnt try to do things alone, ive realized that its BECAUSE theres two of them that they surpass all might. its not a case of deku and bakugou both being 50% of an ideal hero, but rather i think that they are 100% of what all might SHOULD HAVE BEEN from the very beginning.

as early as the AM v AFO battle in kamino, we see the effects of all mights flawed existence. the fact that he, the greatest and supposedly infallible symbol of peace, was destroyed—society had begun to collapse. there was suddenly no pillar to hold people together and the impacts were so severe that even in the latest chapters of mha it keeps on getting worse. the truth is, all mights biggest mistake was the burden he placed on his own shoulders

with bakugou and deku... its different.

its different for them because down to their attributions, they seem like two halves of a whole person.

i think that the wonder duo are going to surpass all might because of the fact that they work together.

@bakugoukatsuki-rising @svpercraigus @tybee​ @isaustraliaathing​

(batshit crazy and conspiratorial essay under the cut !)

1. Complementary Colors

I’d like to first preface literally everything I say by the fact that I am not an expert analyzer or literary major in any way. I am literally just some random fan on the internet who has wayyy too much time and looks wayyy too deep into things, but here we go!

A common thing we see when we talk about bakugou and deku is the way they are... sort of an inverse of one another.

Down to the design of their features and the way they move, Deku is the obviously softer of the two. There’s an intentional contrast between the two of them, in the way that Deku’s drawn with round shapes and curvy hair and the way Bakugou is literally all spikes and half-mast eyes and rough muscles. Bakugou’s movements too are languid and showy, with the way he leans when he walks and splays his legs and kicks open doors. Katsuki, in a casual sense, is loud and dramatic. 

Deku on the other hand s finicky. He jitters when he walks and he’s often fidgeting and mumbling. Comparatively, the aura he radiates is energetic and frenzied, even self-conscious to a point unlike Bakugou’s calm and confident movements.

the point is, there’s a clear difference in how either of them are designed and what exactly they are supposed to represent. They utterly complement each other down to the way they behave and even their main colors (red-orange and blue-green) being literal complementary colors.

Now, moving to my more ungrounded points, this is quite a bit of a stretch so I’ll try as much as possible to make sense of these with hyperlinked sources because. yeah.

Down to their names, I think Deku and Bakugou both symbolize something deeper. I think that the way Hori expresses characters and what they’re meant to do is something that we have to pay close attention to when we talk about the Wonder Duo’s rise to success.

Izuku Midoriya (緑谷 出久), as some of us may know, does have an interesting meaning when broken up. According to a lovely fan translation of his name, ‘Izuku’--while not an actual name used commonly in real life--means to ‘Come out’ or ‘Long time’. ‘Midoriya’ on the other hand means (Midori) ‘Green’ and (ya) ‘valley’. The translator further pointed out that his first name ‘Izuku’ could be a reference to him being the first legendary hero to come out of the long-running All Might Era. (or, if you’ve been reading @/bakugoukatsuki-rising’s posts, the first significant anime protag in a long while to come out as queer, ppfft)

but that isn’t my focus right now.

We know that Hori LOVES telling stories with names, and more often than not in the BNHA universe, names alone tell us a lot of things about the characters. When referring to Izuku’s last name, Midoriya, it’s important I think to step back and realize that hey, maybe there’s something more to Green Valley than just the fact that his motif is all green.

After searching for a lil on the specifics of green valley, I’ve found out that across many cultures, the colour green and valleys in general tend to represent life. From dream analysts, to Christianity, and even old Taoist teachings, valleys are seen as areas of fertility and escape. They are seen as safe havens and often escapes for people to come to after running away from bad circumstances.

(Sound familiar?)

Deku, in essence represents life and peace. He represents being the “salvation” that the world in BNHA needed. To me, it sounds like Horikoshi is trying to say that he is the long-awaited hero in the sense. The one that people can feel will create a society that feels safe for everyone after years of All Might just saving people from themselves as a band-aid solution.

On the other hand, we have Katsuki Bakugou (爆豪 勝己), who’s name we commonly know means (Katsuki) Winner and (Bakugou) Explosion Master. He is essentially, the champion. The power. His name means success and power and all the things that make up winning.

When putting them side by side, it then becomes increasingly... interesting to me how their names almost perfectly slot into All Might’s save to win and win to save mantra, and how they are both quintessential parts to what made All Might as a hero.

2. Hero Too!

Now, I’m not even gonna really TOUCH much of what happens in canon. If you want me to do a step by step breakdown of their arcs in regards to the plot of manga and anime, feel free to send me a gratuitous ko-fi tip so I can pay for the headache I get after trying to organize my thoughts into word vomit.

What I WILL talk about on the other hand, is the subtle shift both of them slowly have in regards to how they look. Bakugou and Deku, while growing up, seem to have MANY many parallels--but before I elaborate on all of that, I wanna talk about something else.

Detour: Deku’s Red Shoes 

We all know the iconic symbol being Deku’s red shoes. For all his life, save for some outfits like his hero one, we see Deku more often than not wearing his signature red sneakers which have become a running joke in fandom.

But the funny thing is, in Japan, red shoes seem to have an interesting connotation.

In 1922, a popular Japanese nursery rhyme was written, called “Red Shoes”. The interesting part to me about this song was the symbolism that, in my tiny pea-sized brain, I could connect to the story of BNHA.

The story goes that there was a little girl with red shoes named ‘Kimi’. She was from Shizuoka prefecture (which, if you didn’t know, is most likely where Musutafu supposedly is) and was raised by a single mother. When she was young, her mother had to entrust her with a foreigner under the impression that they would give her a better life in America. The stranger is a man named Charles Hewitt (who was described to have blue eyes) and supposedly took her away. 

The singer of the song (supposedly the mother, but some argue it was written from the perspective of a childhood friend) believes that Kimi is happy and living a better life away from them, when the reality of the situation was much worse. The young girl with red shoes in actuality had Tuberculosis, and thus the foreigner whom she was entrusted to had left her to fend for herself and eventually left her to go to America while she died alone and orphaned.

“When I see red shoes, I think of her.”

A very interesting story with very interesting implications indeed.

-

Anyway, moving on to the more... “nuanced” and connected parts of this section, I have every reason to believe that Bakugou and Deku were simply MEANT to be working together down to how they dress. Now, I’d like to discuss their hero costumes.

At the start of their series, using these godawful pics for reference, it’s clear to see that neither of them seem alike in any way--reflecting the dissonance in their relationship at that point in canon.

ough. deku why. (yes we know why its because you love your mom you stupid little bunny <3)

Anyway, we see an immediate gap in how the two of them are. Deku’s first costume is one that reflects how he treated his dream of being a hero. He was still in that childlike idolization phase, the one where his dreams and aspirations were hinged on pure feelings and inspiration from All Might. Katsuki on the other hand was a lot more tactical--professional to an extent. The gap between their respective development with their quirks is something that is clearly felt in every fashion decision they’d made.

(Notice how Deku’s green is a lot brighter and less like the green accents Katsuki has all over his costume.)

As time progressed however... their costumes changed. The colors, the silhouettes, the practical functions, most things.

(Deku’s Gamma Costume and Bakugou’s Winter Costume used respectively)

we begin to notice a few similarities.

As the show goes on and we see more evolutions of their costumes, it almost seems like they begin to look like a matching pair. Deku’s green grows darker and almost teal in nature, while Bakugou’s orange is veering towards red territory. This is important to note because red-orange and blue-green as I said earlier were complementary colors as compared to simply orange and green. The minute shift is something I really wasn’t quite sure was intentional, but something I find interesting to pick up nonetheless as the colors they used to accent their costumes begin to match up.

Secondly, I think and important thing to note is silhouettes. The way that both Bakugou and Deku’s costumes are designed follow a lot of parallels that typically we don’t see with the rest of 1-A. For one, they both have a combination of tight long-sleeved tops with a bulkier set of bottoms. They also share the use of utility belts and metal pieces typically worn around their necks. Deku has his bunny-eared hood that mimics All Might’s hair, while Bakugou has his orange and black explosion ear-pieces that mimic his own quirk.

i don’t think any other people in class 1-A match each other as subtly yet strongly as these two. Uraraka and Deku and Bakugou and Kirishima do come close however.

“But Codi, you fucking knob!” I hear you plea. “This is such a reach and tells us practically NOTHING!” And yes, I’m inclined to agree with you! You’d be sort of right in the idea that this is a reach. Maybe I am looking too much into this, and maybe it really isn’t that deep--but I do think that them subconsciously matching outfits means something quite brilliant.

In the way that their costumes are designed, each aspect of either outfits have a very logical explanation. The changes were strategic and made with their fighting styles vividly in mind, so what that tells me is that BECAUSE these costumes are so complementary or similar in nature (Bakugou’s reinforcing his arms while Deku reinforces his legs), these two are implicitly showing the audience that their combat styles are complementary as well. 

The evolution of their design choices and similarities tell us that even unknowingly, their minds line up in strategy on the battlefield--a clear exhibit for why they would be INCREDIBLY POWERFUL as a Hero Duo to begin with.

When I look at their hero costumes side by side, I see a mirror. I see the way that these two are reflections of each other and are strong where the other isn’t. The point I see in BNHA repeatedly is that EVERYONE HAS A WEAKNESS. Nothing is infallible, regardless of how hard you train or how powerful your quirk is. Everyone will always have a weakness, but the significant difference I see when fandom discusses the future of Pro-Hero Society is that the new generation is finally raising itself to be RELIANT on each other. 

Observing their fighting styles and the simple use of their quirks, its obvious that they are indeed two parts of a whole hero. Bakugou, who’s quirk emphasized his arms and hands and the power that comes from it, while Deku who’s quirk now emphasizes his legs and lower body and the way he’s always running to save people.

IN CONCLUSION:

As they become heroes, it is easy to assume that if nothing else, Bakugou and Deku will cover each other’s weak spots (especially when you consider the way Deku probably won’t be able to keep using his arms with the way both the anime and manga are going...) (also chapter 285, anyone?)

-

Part Two: Interactions, OfA

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