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geddy-leesbian · 3 months ago

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quick 3,298 word lil Luis backstory oneshot

Luis is scooped off the streets by a woman who wants to get him into a special boarding school where all his wildest dreams could come true…

on ao3 or under the cut

Luis quickly adapts to life on the streets. He learns where not to sleep, he learns the most profitable street corners to play guitar for tips.

There's a few homes in the city that are sympathetic enough to feed an orphan some scraps if he knocks, but sympathy only goes so far and dries up if he tries hitting the same home too often. He gets it down to a science, exactly how frequently he can knock at each door without wearing out his welcome. His favorite house is an old lady that seems especially fond of him. He gets some snacks and a glass of water to have on her porch on nice days, and when the weather is bad she invites him inside for a warm meal and a mug of hot chocolate.

Between the money he gets from tips and the people who give him food, he goes to sleep with a full belly every night, tucked away in one of the hiding spots he'd learned were reliable– places that were dry and where no one would disturb him.

His thirst for knowledge is satisfied too. While he won't attempt to get his own library card, fearing they'll ask for personal details that will get him sent off to some orphanage, he goes into the library and spends hours reading. He's pretty sure the librarians catch on that he's not in a normal child's situation, but he's quiet and well-behaved, so they never confront him. Sometimes one of them will even give him an apple out of her lunchbox.

There's one nice lady that he sees while playing guitar regularly, and always stops to wordlessly give him a generous tip. One day she stops and talks to him. She takes him to a restaurant and tells him he can order anything he wants, as much as he wants. Then peppers him with questions.

She wants to know where he's from, does he have family, his entire life story. He proudly boasts about how he's only 12 years old and made it from a tiny village in the mountains all the way to a city all by himself, with only some old maps to guide him. He's worried she wouldn't believe him, but she keeps smiling and nodding while he talks. She asks why he goes to the library all the time. He counters and asks how she knows that. Apparently she knows one of the librarians and they mentioned the strange kid who came in every day, and that they suspected he was coming in because he was homeless and it was the only building he could go into for a break from wandering the streets.

That surprises Luis, and he insists he likes the streets just fine and only goes in because he loves to read. She must think he's too stupid to enjoy reading! There were so many things he hated about Valdelobos, and one of the things he hated the most was that everyone except his grandfather and Méndez thought he was stupid. He knew he was smart, he read every book he could get his hands on, in a village with very poor literacy. He knew things that almost no one else in the village did. But did anyone care? No! All they did was pick on him and criticize his grandfather for raising a useless boy. He didn't know how to farm or fish. Despite going with his grandfather hunting all the time, he still didn't know much about hunting. (He'd try, he really did, to pay attention when his grandfather explained things, but his mind always wandered elsewhere while his grandfather's words went in one ear and out the other.) Luis knew a lot, but didn't know anything useful, so that meant he was stupid.

He doesn't want this lady to think he's stupid. He wants her to know that he goes to the library to read, not just to sit inside uselessly. Trying to prove that, he starts rattling off the titles and authors of books he's enjoyed.

“You like to learn then?” Luis nods. “How would you like to go to school?”

Luis's eyes almost pop out of his head. School!

He has the biggest grin on his face while she explains that she works for a pharmaceutical company called Umbrella, and they have a boarding school she thinks Luis might fit in at. She pulls some papers and a pencil out of her purse and slides them across the table. It's a test, and she has Luis take it right then and there as he eats.

He's a little bit terrified when he finishes. He thinks he knew most of what was on it, he tried to read about as many different subjects as possible, but isn't that sure. What if he blew his chance to go to school? Suddenly the street life isn't enough for him, he needs to go to school, just as intensely as he needed to leave Valdelobos. One lesson the streets have taught Luis is the power of tears. Maybe if he begs and cries enough she'll give him a second-

He doesn't need a second chance. She looks the finished test over, then looks at Luis and smiles. She tells him everything he wants to hear. That he is special. How impressive it was for a homeless 12 year old with no formal education to ace a test like this on the spot. That he's a genius, and certainly would have already graduated and employed in a high position at Umbrella by now if he hadn't been stuck in an isolated village. Really, it just boils down to what everyone wants to hear: He is special. No delusions of grandeur here, just actual grandeur.

She pulls out more papers. Contracts he has to sign to attend a special Umbrella boarding school just for child prodigies like him. He won't be homeless, he'll be given a room to sleep in, food will be provided, as well as a small wardrobe of uniforms and sleepwear. No cost. In fact, they'll give him money; as long as he does well in his classes, he'll be given a small stipend to spend however he wants.

There's so much text on the contracts, but she tells him he doesn't need to read it all, it's just a formality really. He'll go to this school, then he'll graduate and immediately begin working for Umbrella as a researcher. He signs every dotted line, having no idea he just made a deal with the devil.

After he finishes his food and a hot chocolate, she takes him shopping. First is a basic set of pajamas for tonight and a basic outfit for him to wear until he gets his Umbrella uniforms. The next stop is a bookstore. She tells him to pick a book, any one he wants. A brand new book that no one has ever read before, just for him. A fancy edition of Don Quixote catches his eye, but he resists out of a desire to stay in this woman's favor. Instead he picks out a medical book full of pictures, hoping the intellectual choice will impress her. He also asks if he can get a notebook and something to write with. He wants to start writing a diary, like his grandfather was always doing.

Not only does she agree, she takes Luis to an art supplies store and lets him pick out a very fancy notebook, and sets of pencils and pens, some plain and the rest in every color of the rainbow.

Finally the whirlwind day comes to an end. The nice lady starts driving, explaining a little bit more about the school.

France.

Paris.

That's where Luis is going to go school. He's seen pictures in books. The small city he lived on the streets of was already completely mind-blowing to the little boy from little Valdelobos, Paris is going to overwhelm him, and he's never been more excited for anything in his life.

But of course he has to be patient. The nice Umbrella lady is going to escort him herself, a journey split between car and plane, but they won't leave until the next morning, which feels like an impossibly long time to Luis. She gets him set up in a hotel room and he takes a hot shower for the first time in his life. Then he crawls into a gigantic bed with the softest sheets and blankets he's ever felt and falls asleep fantasizing about Paris, about school. He imagines it like the old Salazar castle, because that's the closest thing to a boarding school he's encountered himself. He's not sure how accurate his imagination is, but he does know that it's going to be amazing.

In the car and on the plane, Luis devours his new book and writes a bit in his journal. In English. He's taught himself a fair amount of the language, but could definitely use some practice writing it. He'll probably have to learn French too, which excites him because he loves to learn anything. When he's done writing, he turns his attention to the car radio, flipping through stations. He likes the songs in English, they're so different from the music back in Valdelobos.

There's one song that's amazing, so unlike anything he's ever heard. It's not even the catchy music, made by instruments Luis can't even identify, that grabs Luis's attention so strongly, it's the words . Lyrics about rejecting religion to choose freewill. He's pretty sure it would incite an angry mob clamoring to burn someone at the stake.

He's a little bit disappointed when they arrive. He saw so many cool buildings on the way, buildings as castle-like as the ones in his imagination, buildings out of fairytales.

And none of them are the school. It's a huge but sleek, modern looking building. While it would have impressed Luis 24 hours ago, it feels lackluster to the current Luis whose imagination had run wild with what were likely unrealistic expectations.

Even worse, the sleek building he's looking at isn't even the school. While they walk into the lobby, the nice lady explains that there's actually two different Umbrella facilities on the property. The above ground part of the building he saw is Umbrella Europe’s largest laboratory. The special boarding school he's going to attend is in the basement. No bedroom with a window. But despite his disappointment, Luis keeps smiling and nodding while the lady walks him through a maze of hallways, because he does want an education, and this might be his only opportunity to get one. And there's at least a purpose to it. The school is attached to another laboratory so students can begin doing occasional, basic lab work to start gaining hands-on experience before graduating.

What does impress Luis is just how clean everything is. And cleanliness is foreign to Luis. Everything in Valdelobos was dirty. Everything. It was like everyone and everything in the place magnetically attracted dirt. Even after getting out of there, Luis was constantly covered in a layer of grime, just part of life on the streets. Which makes the sparkling clean surfaces all the more shocking to Luis. They're so clean and shiny that Luis's reflection looks back at him when he looks at the walls or floor.

The classrooms are just as sleek and cutting edge as the labs, with sparkling clean white desks that each have a computer built into them.

His bedroom is really tiny. On the left wall is a desk and shelves, and there's a bunk bed on the right. There's only a narrow strip of floor between them. Thankfully he doesn't actually have to share such a tiny space with someone else. The school truly takes only the best of the best. If there were enough candidates, then there would be two students per room. But this year they hadn't been able to find enough students that met their high standards, so there's enough space that each student gets their own room to themselves. It's still disappointing, but nothing Luis can't handle.

Life in the boarding school is harder than life on the streets. On the streets, he was free. He could go where he wanted when he wanted and no one stood in his way. He answered to no one. His only responsibility was making sure he found someone who would take pity and give him free food, or making enough in tips to buy something to eat.

Now he has people to answer to, and an absurd workload. Every week day consists of him going to class for a few hours, then getting food to take back to his room to eat while he works on assignments and studies until he can't keep his eyes open anymore.

But Luis doesn't mind the brutal workload and expectations, because for the first time in his life he feels like he truly belongs somewhere. None of his peers look down on him. The statement that the boarding school would produce the best candidates to be Umbrella's future without regard for gender, race, background, sexuality, or creed was accurate. Luis could tell that most of his classmates weren't cut from the same cloth that he was– they were whiter than him and from wealthy families– but Luis didn't feel that it mattered to anyone here. He was treated exactly the same as everyone else was. His peers weren't just neutral to him, they were friendly. Not only was he no longer an outcast, he was almost popular. There wasn't much time to socialize, but whenever there was a free moment, there was no shortage of people eager to talk to Luis, asking him about books and music and all the normal mundane things he's craved to converse about as long as he can remember. And while his teachers are cold and harsh, they're like that to everyone, not just him; not even the blond, blue eyed boys from rich families are given any slack, they're pushed just as hard.

And weekends do offer a reprieve from the brutal grind. Usually he wastes Friday night most or Saturday just catching up on sleep and giving his mind a rest, but Sunday gets more eventful. He thought that Vanessa would go back to Spain doing whatever it was she was doing with her life before plucking Luis off the streets. But she stays in Paris. She sees Luis often. Sometimes she checks in on him briefly during the week, but Sundays are special. She picks him up from the school, going wherever he wants. Usually he likes to sightsee in the city, or go on a hike more out in nature, getting him the fresh air he desperately craves throughout the week.

He also asks to go shopping regularly. For music, usually. He can listen to CD's while studying in his room, so he begins building a collection. Eventually he finds it – the song he'd heard on the radio and fallen in love with. He buys the rest of the band's albums too. (One has a song about an angry mob fearing and wanting to destroy things they don't understand, which hits a little too close to home. The residents of Valdelobos are exactly the type of people the song is criticizing.)

To celebrate finishing his first year at the top of the class, he picks out a shiny new electric guitar for himself. He'd planned to pay for it himself with the allowance money he'd been saving up, but Vanessa jumps in and pays for it, telling him to save his money.

The break isn't the long summer break normal schools tend to have, it's just one week. It's important that Umbrella's elite students, Umbrella's future, complete their schooling and training as quickly as possible, and giving their minds a several month break to collect cobwebs and dust would undermine that.

Luis expected to just spend the days off enjoying his new guitar and wandering around outside in the fresh air and then his nights back in his cramped bedroom, but instead Vanessa picks him up and says he'll be spending the week in her home.

Her house is nice. Shiny new appliances, marble floors, lots of art, a huge flat screen TV, all the things Luis had assumed rich people would probably have. She doesn't live alone. She's married. To another woman. (They're not able to get married legally, but wear rings and refer to each other as wives.) Which offers Luis some nice reassurance that Luis really could flirt with the cute boy he sits next to in one class without being kicked out of the school, socially ostracized, or worse.

There's a guest room that becomes Luis's room. She insists that it's to be Luis's bedroom, even though he'll only be there for a week. Vanessa and her wife, Alyson, take him on a shopping spree to personalize the room.

Luis's birthday just so happens to fall within the week break, and Vanessa throws a party. With most of Luis's peers being out of town with their families, the bulk of the guest list is Vanessa and her wife's friends, who are mostly fellow scientists. Luis actually learns a lot; Vanessa's love is conditional.

Prior to the party, he often took comfort in thoughts about how fond of him Vanessa was. When he got stressed by his schoolwork and started panicking about what would happen if he failed to meet the school's expectations and got kicked out, he would calm himself down thinking that Vanessa liked him enough that she would let him live with her and help him get into a more normal school.

But that safety blanket is ripped away during the party. Vanessa parades him around the room introducing him to a few people at a time, bragging about how smart he was, how he was just a street rat when she found him and went on to become a model student at the top of his class.

“Damn, Vanessa, he is a great find. Have you gotten a bonus for him yet?”

“Oh no, not yet. I will, but they don't hand out the child prodigy finder's fee until the child graduates and starts working.”

“You're just spending your own money on him in the meantime?”

“I don't mind, he's at the school 6 days a week and he doesn't ask for much when I do get him. Alyson was wanting to adopt, so this has really been perfect for us. I have to admit I was against adopting, I just thought a random kid from god knows where wouldn't ever be Umbrella material, but here's Luis, from a horrible background and top of his class. I just hope he maintains it. I know it would break Ally's heart sending him away, but I can't keep spending money on him if he flunks out and can't get a position in Umbrella, you know?”

“I know. You're more generous than me for already spending anything on him. I'd wait until…”

Luis walks away before they notice he heard what they were talking about. While it's a distressing revelation, it's one that Luis can learn to live with. As long as Luis keeps his grades up, there will be a place for him in Vanessa's family. Luis can do that. Luis couldn't be what the community of Valdelobos wanted him to be, but he can be what Vanessa wants him to be.

He can be what Umbrella needs to be. He can graduate at the top of his class and then go on to become a star at Umbrella, curing wasting diseases like the one that killed his grandfather. Luis can do that.

#luis serra #luis serra navarro #resident evil fanfiction

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turanga4 · 1 year ago

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9 for a minor character you’ve written about

46 for hjp (before, during, or after canon) :)

Oooh way fun!

Ask About My Blorbo is here and there are so many numbers to choose from for blorbos.

9. Scene that first made me love Pomona Sprout (whom I have written about here and here and here): Well, that's the interesting thing, isn't it? She's not IN the scenes, really. She's behind them, or popping in briefly and then fading out. Think of how Neville knows so much about Herbology and how he has his lil plants. Think of how Poppy Pomfrey seems to have a very well stocked hospital wing, full of all the things one needs to make healing potions. Think of the little throwaway in GoF that at the Welcome Feast, Professor Sprout was talking to Professor Sinistra, a character who is almost NEVER MENTIONED, and the other tiny detail that when Minerva rises to Trelawney's defense when Umbridge attempts to evict her, it's Pomona who leaves the crowd and grabs Sybill's other arm. Think at last of Dumbledore's quiet reassurance to Harry that Cedric's parents were being tended by her after the graveyard, and the simple statement that she "knew him best" (which isn't actually a guaranteed aspect of being a Head of House--does Minerva really know Harry better than does Hagrid?) Harry doesn't really notice Professor Sprout, because he doesn't NEED TO--he has loads of people, for good and for ill, taking an interest in him, occupying his mind. But almost every time he does notice her, it's because she's paying kind attention to someone other than him.

46. The person HJP most admires. I'd truly like to believe (sorry @saintsenara) that ultimately, after canon, the answer to that is Ginny. After the smoke clears, after the romance has simmered down a little, after Harry's done some hard shit to engage with his own trauma, I'd like to believe that he comes to actually reckon with Ginny's experiences, both her first year with Tom and her sixth year at Hogwarts. As well as, on an ongoing basis, to be aware of how exceptionally much courage and faith it would take for anyone with a solid foundation of their own to stand on, to look at an emotionally battered celebrity former child soldier and orphan with a penchant for martyrdom and a career as a cop, and go, "Yup. That's the one. Raising kids with him now." I'd hope that he realizes how incredibly strong she has been for so very long with so little support, and I can't imagine it'd immediately change their dynamics, but I do think it would impact him deeply--as it should.

#ask game #pomona sprout #harry james potter

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tyunni · 3 years ago

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txt when they have a crush on you !

pairing: all members x gn!reader.

warnings: none other than maybe some slip ups, english isn't my first language.

genre: fluff, comedy, angst if u squint.

a/n: YAYY my first post on the new blog!! hope you enjoy :D

yeonjun (연준)

isn't very subtle about it,

the second you step into the room he's thinking about which pick-up line to use today <3

in reality, he's actually extremely nervous around you but tries to cover it up by being a flirt.

thinks about you all the time and sometimes has a hard time focusing on important work because of you,

you live in his mind rent-free, let's be honest here.

gets jealous easily, so if he sees you hanging out with another person, being a lil' too touchy and friendly for his liking,

he's going to come up to you right then and there & just go "damn y/n, thought we had something special!?!??!?" faking a pout and clutching his heart dramatically, waiting to hear your angelic laugh pierce through his ears so he can feel the relief of knowing that you're still oblivious to his feelings.

he isn't joking though, his ego is a tiny bit bruised, but he knows he's overreacting and has no right to feel that way because you aren't even dating (yet ;D)

shows his skills off to you a lot, whether it's dancing, rapping or vocals.

sends you a bunch of selcas, saying that he wants you to help him choose which one he should post for moas to see, but in all honesty he just does it so you call him handsome !!

soobin (수빈)

soobin thinks you have absolutely no right to look that adorable,

at first he thought that he was endeared by you because you were simply cute,

but later on, he realized that he was head over heels for you.

even someone mentioning your name gets him all giggly and bubbly

you're his serotonin boost <3

if you compliment him in any way he's going to get shy, quick to cover his blushing face,

but whenever he's feeling down the compliment just floats up from the back of his mind and makes his day 10x better.

can't sleep because all he can think about is you and your pretty smile, cuddles a plushie he stole from huening kai wishing it was you :(

very hesitant to hug you or just have any sort of physical contact with you

like he really wants to, but the closest he gets to holding your hand is accidentally brushing his knuckles against yours

and even that small action has his mind racing, heart beating out of his chest as his awkward giggles fill the room.

if you hold his hand or hug him tho, he's going to melt in your arms :(

just whipped from the start.

rest of the members are under the cut ...

beomgyu (범규)

my guy already knew he liked you the second he laid his eyes on you.

but it was all platonic at first,

the more he got to know you, though, the more attached he became.

tries to spend as much time as he can with you, just wants you to notice him :(

teases you to no end, poking your sides, tickling you, getting all up in your face,

constantly asking you to play video games with him.

just craves your attention !!

very clingy <3

leans on your shoulder, holds your hand, slings his arm around you, puts his hand on your waist, etc.

is quite quick to realize that he had developed a crush,

and is also quick to catch on to the fact that you also have feelings for him.

honestly how could you not...

he takes it slow though, doesn't want to rush into a relationship.

literally treats you like his girlfriend from the get-go, everyone and their mom knows that you two are a thing.

taehyun (태현)

quick to realize that he has feelings for you, just like beomgyu

but also the quickest to try and push them away before he falls even harder,

yeah... that didn't work.

tries to impress you with his intellect and amazing vocals,

if you compliment him he's going to break into a grin, complimenting you back with no hesitation.

never stutters or feels too nervous around you, but it's all in the body language.

like the way he listens to you so attentively when you speak, paying attention to every word you say so he doesn't miss anything,

or the way he always stays close to you! choosing the seat next to yours in public transport, walking next to you when going out with the others

the way he straightens his posture the moment he sees you walking into the room, the way he never breaks eye contact with you, his stare lingering on your figure every now and then, scanning your every move.

the members caught on sooner or later, which is what taehyun feared the most !!

sure soobin and yeonjun can keep a secret, but god forbid beomgyu and huening kai from even speaking to you </3

huening kai (휴닝카이)

huening kai has had lots of small crushes before, so he thought that this one would perish just like the others,

oh how wrong he was...

a few months passed and the feelings only grew stronger, his chest tingling at the thought of you being his.

the other members know he likes you, but don't really tease him about it that much. except beomgyu

welcome to... how to know if huening kai likes you 101

he lets you touch, grab, play, even borrow his plushies,

he trusts you and only you with his precious stuffed animals :(

absolute heart eyes whenever he sees you playing with tobin, hugging it and protecting it from the members !!

even bigger heart eyes when you awkwardly shuffle over to him and ask him if you can hold his new plush,

eyes sparkling when he agrees with a bright smile as his blush impossibly deepens, handing you the stuffed animal in question.

you're also the only person he texts back immediately (besides his family members and managers)

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notnctu · 4 years ago

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backseat chronicles - n.jm | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, fluff, lil angst wordcount ➠ 8.5k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin, badboy!jaemin, college!au ━ where Jaemin brings you to his club races as his arm candy. warnings ➠ explicit language, overstimulation, flirty banter, pet names, softdom!jaemin, car sex, praise kink, hittin it raw (y/n on the pill), oral, daddy kink, slight corruption kink, fingering synopsis ➠ There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi ; @darkneogotmyback ; @im-lame-irl ; @p-mini ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck ; @saniahmichael ; @jaehy9ngs ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @jaehyunoos ; @pikijaemin ; @suhweo ; @yunoyeol ; @lanadreamie ; @ta3ilmoon ;

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! thank you for over 1k notes on this series, im beyond impressed by the amount of attention this got! it really blew up and its so crazy!! i wrote this one with more of a romantic plotline i realized its too hard to keep it pwp with all the story building and characterization i have :)) it’s almost over yall! pls pls leave me feedback im sorry it took so long to write ):

While college lecture rooms are too big to interact with other students, discussion classes are there to ease the difficulty. A classroom for about twenty students from a three hundred person lecture. It’s administered by a clueless TA, who barely began his second term in graduate school.

Unlike lecture, attendance is mandatory for participation points. You show up every time without a fail, so it came as a shock to you when a certain blue haired student finally appeared from the list of absent students.

Na Jaemin. The notorious playboy with looks that kill and partakes in some illegal racing club. It’s as if every person in the room fawns over his aura, Jaemin drips with an inexplicable alluring confidence. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he never shows up for class and rumors about how he’s slept with the entire cheer squad.

But he’s drawn to you like a magnet: always sitting in the available spot next to you, asking about your day before the TA arrives, developing an odd staring problem. You don’t feed much into his attention, minding your own business when he starts with his notably flirtatious greeting.

“You just take my breath away, (Y/N).” Jaemin cocks back in his seat with legs stretched wide in an overly comfortable manner. The smug smirk on his face cannot be ignored, he’s doing the absolute most to get you to pay the smallest attention to him.

“I didn’t do anything in particular to do that, Jaemin.” You respond bitterly, pulling out your notes for today’s discussion class. The TA enjoys wasting the first twenty minutes going over the past lecture slides and running through the most obvious topics.

You pay no mind to Jaemin peering over at you with the single handedly most dreamy eyes and smile --- stars shining in his dark orbs and a dazzling twinkle in his wide toothy grin.

“That’s why you’re so amazing. You do nothing and it still leaves me breathless.” His sneaky eyes examine your clothing choice for the long day. On this warm afternoon, the short tank top does nothing to hide much of your skin and the denim shorts that ride up a little too well drive Jaemin insane. And when you cross your legs together, he swallows the spit that pools in the back of his throat.

Your ears catch onto the murmurs of the rest of the class, the midterm is next week. The wretched midterm that is half of your grade dooms you, it is going to take an endless amount of completely undistracted dedicated hours of study--- “On a more serious note, can you help me with this class?”

His voice shatters your inner panic, if anything, adds to the stress that already beats down on your shoulders. You look up to glare at him, but you’re entirely taken aback by the new styling of his hair and the exposure of his tattoos.

The sweet blue cotton candied strands are ruffled lazily above his brows, messy from him constantly running his hand through them. Jaemin sits relaxed in gray sweatpants that are extremely baggy on his slender figure, hands are shoved casually into the pockets.

But what has you staring for longer is the long sleeve of tattoos that wrap around his left arm. Not that you’re surprised that Jaemin has tattoos, let alone a whole sleeve, but this is your first time seeing it as this is the first time he’s come to class without his leather jacket on. Something about the intricate lines and shadowing make Jaemin seem much cooler, almost more attractive.

When you meet his eyes, his lips curl slowly into a sly side smile and he’s practically eating you up under his gaze. He definitely knew that you were staring and what comes next out of his mouth will haunt you for it. “Like what you see, beautiful?”

“I don’t have the time to help you.” The best way out of this situation is to simply ignore it. Jaemin is overly adored and admired by many, he’ll find someone else to help him.

“Jaemin, do you want to study together?” There you go, folks. The random girl snickers with her small huddle of friends in the upper corner of the room, like a crowd of crows, they’re all waiting around for Jaemin to accept her offer so he can be easily integrated into their little group.

However, you watch how his glances bounce between you and her. The most sickly sweet, kind smile is almost too fake to consider it to be genuine. His final choice surprises you, “thank you for offering, but I only want (Y/N)...”

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat as you hope for him to finish his sentence, the drumming of your heart distracting you even more. Jaemin wants you? While the thought is flattering, it puzzles you greatly.

“... to help me with my studies.” Jaemin finishes his sentence after a rather long pause, his eyes finally resting upon your figure shying away and finding any way to seem uninterested in the conversation. “Is that going to be okay, (Y/N)?”

“What do I get out of it?” You can’t believe that you are actually considering it. But this is a man that only wants you to help him. Jaemin is an impossible, yet charming man and whatever comfortable attire he is wearing today is really aiding in his request.

He lights up, ears perked up and eyes attentive. His hands fold together on the empty desk, leaning forward towards you. “Dates with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you groan slightly at the arrogant answer. “I don’t care about that. I want something that benefits me.”

“I’ll make sure you’re well fed.” There is a tiny plea in his tone, a remarkable shift from his cool aura. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you.”

“I guess I can’t turn down free food…” there is a hang in your sentence as you contemplate what chaos you’re about to dive into and what life changes are about to be explored with Jaemin.

“Before you agree,” Jaemin chuckles, “there’s one more thing I’d like you to do for me.”

You’re quick to shoot a daggering glare at the overly enthusiastic boy, “why do I suddenly owe you favors?”

“Because I say so.” He deadpans, a chill running down your spine at the deep dip in his octave. The playfulness that was present all this time suddenly vanished, a serious look that intimidates you, but sexy enough to where it erupts something in your core. He blinks at you with dark clouded eyes and you nervously anticipate what he is going to ask next of you.

“Accompany me to my races.” He speaks lowly as if he’s afraid of someone else eavesdropping in the conversation.

Here’s your issue with that request: you’ve never really been part of that scene. You’ve lived pretty mundanely, even in college. It’s simple, you like to stay within the boundaries of what you enjoy to do and what you have to do. But you’re always open minded and willing to try something to determine whether or not you’re fond of it.

Partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol weren’t your favorite things to do, especially to the point of forgetting your nights. You wanted to remember your nights as much as you do your days. The youth isn’t here for long, why waste them by blacking out in the middle of a large party? Also, whoever said that alcohol goes down smooth is a blatant liar.

Illegal racing could possibly be an extension of people who participate in those things, which is fine, but does place a crippling fear of coming off too boring or unrelatable inside your nervous system. But just because you don’t do those things doesn’t mean that you’re not as cool, right?

Since when was your status based nonsensically on how often you spend your nights in socializing crowds full of sweaty bodies and how much cheap booze you can drink? It had to be all in your head --- you’re just dreading any awkward socializing with people who race cars when it’s absolutely illegal.

“Why me?” It’s a genuine answer, possibly stemming from your insecurities of not being on the same level of charm as Jaemin exudes. You’re not a fool, you’re well aware of the many different people he comes across on campus so, why you?

Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to answer, “why not you? You’re just my type. Hot and smart. Cute and a little shy. The greatest duality, if you ask me.” His words seem so genuine that it has you believing these things about yourself as well.

Nonetheless, you’re taken aback by his observations and his choice of descriptions. “We’ve barely ever talked. How can you say these things so confidently about me?”

Jaemin slightly pulls your chair closer to his own and you yelp in response to the sudden movement and lack of space that separates the two of you. He leans into you, breath hot on your skin and obvious eyes darting between your shocked ones and pretty lips.

“So let’s get to know each other. I can already tell that it’ll just make me fall for you even more.” His finger lightly traces your jaw, stopping at your chin to give it a small lift to meet his focus. Jaemin loves how you squirm underneath his intensity, you’re too cute to let go. “Plus, my boys will love you. I’m sure of it.”

The TA rushes in quickly and is utterly distressed from the traffic that had pushed back his schedule. “Sorry, I’m late everyone.” He rummages through his things to find his notes, but groans to see that the monitor of the computer is off. It’s going to take him another ten minutes to input all his credentials.

But your attention doesn’t stray from Jaemin, especially with his delicate touch at the bottom of your chin. His gentle smile enacts nothing but a soft love, and a peak of interest. Na Jaemin, the one and only. He’s like an adventure waiting to be explored, an open bottle of fun for you to take a sip.

“What would I have to do?” Your voice comes out shaky.

“Just be there as your pretty self.” Jaemin comes off as the type to always have women around him, “you’ll be my lucky charm. For some reason, I always feel better around you.”

The escalation of this conversation is possibly more action you’ve had to handle in the last two years. Jaemin drops your chin and falls back into his own seat with his arms crossed. He is about to turn your life upside down and whether that be a good or bad thing, you don’t mind. You’re excited for the new thrills that come with being by Na Jaemin’s side.

Jaemin’s hot hands lift your shirt quickly, throwing it towards the front seat of his car. His lips return to your soft neck, nibbling at your skin tenderly and with love bites that will remind you of his gentle touches. The streetlamps outside flicker impatiently as you feel the eagerness soaking your panties and he lifts you up to take them off.

“My sweet girl,” his voice is light and airy that it becomes almost lost in the heat of the car. “You’re excited tonight. Did you miss me?” The devilish smirk can be felt upon your collarbones.

“Yes, I haven’t seen you for almost five days.” A peculiar whine settles in your pout and Jaemin’s low growl sends shivers down your spine. The only barrier are his own tight jeans and your hands are fast at unbuckling his belt. Jaemin relaxes back, forearms resting on your soft thighs and watching the neediness in your expression and the speed of your hands. He smiles to himself seeing you this way, wanting him so badly that you can’t wait to get him out of his jeans.

Throughout the two months that you and Jaemin finally became well acquainted, he’s fallen inexplicably into your trance. His friends made it very clear to you that he doesn’t keep the same girl around for more than a few weeks. But he’s brought you to almost every race so far and despite the initial shock of your appearance after the third time, you didn’t let the passing comments phase you.

Why he hasn’t replaced you is unknown and truthfully, there is no reasonable explanation how you always wind up in the backseat of his car by the end of the night. It’s become part of your routine. Jaemin picks you up around ten in the evening with raunchy lyrics blasting out of his personalized car for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. More often than not, Jaemin has food ready for you to devour and a cozy blanket for your exposed legs.

You’ve learned a bit more about him through your backseat chronicles. Jaemin is possibly one of the only people in your life with a heart bigger than his own body, while also being as carefree as he can. Oddly enough, he cares about you as his friend and as his companion. Not to mention the ridiculous, yet endearing nickname, “Lucky Charm”, that he has coined upon you.

Jaemin has been the best adventure you’ve had in ages. While he takes you on intoxicating thrill rides on the leather of his back seats, every street race has been more than unforgettable. He shares one of the same values as you --- wanting to remember the present. You both know that you’ll remember each other enough for it to transcend into your next lives.

You have him to thank for your youthful experiences, to learn and dive into this new found world of mischief under his care. Jaemin treats you extraordinarily well, he’d never hurt a soul. He showers you in appraisal and carefulness, he’s attentive to your behavior and remembers your favorite things. And he reminds you almost every time you see him that he’s so grateful to have you in his life.

“Have you been touching yourself?” Jaemin’s bold question catches you off guard as it causes your hands to shyly hover over his unzipped jeans. When you glance up at him with soft innocent eyes, as if you’re guilty of a crime and wish to beg for forgiveness, his facial expression is serious and intimidating.

“Continue, baby. You can be honest with me. Daddy isn’t going to punish you if you did.” His tone is sweet and light, but his eyes are dark and piercing. His lips are drawn tightly into a thin line, no curve in sight.

His finger grazes down your cheek gently as he admires your slightly parted lips and the way your eyelashes dance every time you blink. However, his other hand urges you to continue your previous action of getting him out of his restrictive jeans.

You nod, while rubbing his erection through his gray briefs that hug him so tightly. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you pull the waistband of his underwear down and his cock stands against his lower abdomen. “Do you think of me when you do?” His voice gets caught in his throat when you take him in your warm hand.

“Always.” You kiss his jawline and fix your position above his dick. Your slick pussy presses down against his shaft, coating it in your juices and rubbing his tip to your clit for a delicious sensation. Jaemin groans, his gaze dipping between your lower bodies and back to your face.

“My sweet (Y/N) thinks about her daddy fucking her senseless while she touches herself.” Jaemin chuckles darkly, grinding his hips harder against you. There is a shift in the atmosphere as he grips your hips and slowly enters your dripping hole. “That’s cute, baby.”

You hold onto his shoulders as his raw dick fills you to the brim, stretching you out like past nights. Gasps leave your body when he starts pulling all the way out to only have you sink back down. “Daddy, please just fuck me.”

Jaemin picks up his speed, knowing that you have a quiz due at midnight that you scolded him for forgetting earlier. The grip on his shoulders tighten as this man navigates your body all too well. He knows you like the back of his hand, fucking the spot that causes your body to lose control.

One of his favorite sights in the world is the view of your lips parted open with loud whimpers falling effortlessly. Your eyes roll back into your skull as his hips roll deeper into your walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

“You’re always the best girl for me, aren’t you?” His hand wraps around your neck when you throw your head back, choking you lightly and your walls grip around his shaft. “I know you’re close. Cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl.”

Jaemin’s tattoos shine under the moonlight when you peer down at him. His hooded eyes are intoxicated by the pure image of your fucked out body and he’s truly in love. “My good girl, come on baby.” He continues to encourage, his other hand giving you a smack on your ass when he drills mercilessly into you.

The familiar bubbling occupy your lower half and the feeling of release unravels all so suddenly. You fall forward, Jaemin lets go of your neck to hold your limp body close to him, your head on his shoulder as your orgasm overtakes you. He grinds his hips into you to prolong your shaking climax, cooing sweet nothings in your ear as his other hand takes a whole handful of ass to squeeze.

He bottoms out, filling you up to the rim to cum deep inside of you. Jaemin moans loudly, his cum spilling all over your walls. You two sit like that until he grows soft, pampering your temples with gentle kisses. Jaemin remembers to take care of you, no matter what.

While you’re in his arms, he reaches for sanitary wipes in the side compartments. He lifts your hips slowly to pull out and you sigh at the emptiness. Gently, he swipes at the dripping cum from your pussy and makes sure that you’re all cleaned up before getting dressed.

“So, you want to tell me why you’ve been MIA for the past five days?” Rolling your eyes, you pull up your panties and fix the last decency of your hair.

“Car meets that are too far for me to take you.” His thumb rubs your chin lovingly and Jaemin’s eyes are so bright and mesmerizing, you find that it’s hard to look him in the eye at times.

“Not because you’ve been hooking up with other girls?” There is a tinge of sarcasm that laces your rhetorical question and though you don’t expect him to give you an actual answer, you take note of his reaction. Jaemin raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking out the window away from you.

“And if I was?” Truthfully, that question hurt you more than your’s hurt him. His hand rests underneath his chin as he patiently waits for your answer. He admires the clear night sky and the rundown abandoned liquor store that stands all by itself.

“What do you want me to say?” Question after question, a stiff tension replaces the sex of the car.

“I’ll take you back now.” Jaemin crawls back to the driver’s seat, completely ignoring your confused figure. He has always been quite like this: going aloof whenever he wants to dodge something. However, it’s been happening more frequently the past times you two have been seeing each other.

The truth is simple, yet entirely complex at the same time. You and Jaemin aren’t dating, despite always going out together and him posessively introducing you to other men. You and Jaemin aren’t dating.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from growing feelings for him and you can tell that this happens too often for the attractive boy. He can’t have a fuckbuddy that won’t fall head over heels for him. But who could really blame you? Even if all this time Jaemin was pretending that he cared about you, he still pampers you like a princess; he still tells you he does.

But when it comes to discussion about advancing into something more, he hides and grows silent. This has you wondering, maybe this entire thing to him is all sex? And he can’t love you back the way you do.

No one knows his heart, not even himself. He’s never wanted to complicate his life, it’s always been about two things: racing and having fun. There is no easy way to explain it all, the thoughts that flood his mind and heart, so he chooses every way to ignore it. Overall, he’s genuinely lost. You are one source of stability in his life that he isn’t willing to let go, ever. But just because he won’t let you go, doesn’t mean that you won’t take the chance to leave when you’re fed up with him.

This has him wondering, how far can he push before he pushes you too far?

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just walk.” Tonight is unsettling, it usually doesn’t end like this. Jaemin locks the car doors and turns around to reach for your hand. “Jaemin, open the door.”

“I want you to say that you hate when I sleep with other people.” Jaemin confesses all too wildly as his hand lightly squeezes around your wrist. “And I want you to mean it.” He’s only speaking words of truth that haven’t had the time to process in his own thoughts.

“I hate when you sleep with other people.” And you do mean it. You mean it more than anything you’ve ever said to this man. Jaemin just sighs, bringing your wrist to his lips for a lasting kiss.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes dipping down to the leather seats and avoiding all need for eye contact.

“Yes, Jaemin.” He pulls you back into the passenger seat and drapes the soft blanket over your exposed legs. “Hopefully, I still have time to take my quiz.”

“Can I come inside?” Jaemin coolly turns his marble wheel to reverse out of the parking space, a hand resting on the shoulder of your seat as he does a double take behind him for any pedestrians, even if you two are far out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t anyone around; Jaemin knows you have the hots for him when he does that specific move.

“What do you mean? You’ve already cum inside.”

It’s the sound of disappointment as his tongue tsks at you and he flicks lightly at your forehead. He steps on the acceleration, revving the annoying engine that roars throughout the peaceful night. The multicolored lights illuminate around his stereo and at your feet, creating the Rainbow Road right out of Mario Kart.

Jaemin isn’t like the others who pay close attention to the details of his car. His motto goes, “if I like it, I’m going to have it.” Whether or not anything matches goes beyond his worries.

In some ways, his car is a mirror of his own personality --- wild and free, colorful and welcoming. And his skills as a driver? Safe, no matter how far the speedometer goes, Jaemin always makes you feel safe.

“I mean come inside your room for aftercare. You know how much I hate leaving you without a proper cuddle.” He pouts and almost immediately his cute baby tone comes out with his beg. Almost subconsciously, Jaemin lays his right palm open facing up to invite yours in. Almost routinely, you lace your hands to complete his hold. Getting Jaemin to smile has never been easier as his hold grows tighter.

“You can’t stay over tonight though. My housemates are doing some Single Girls Only house event tomorrow and it starts immediately when we wake up.” You laugh as the ridiculous words fill the air.

“And you’re participating in that?” Jaemin mindlessly asks and you’re unable to differentiate his implications from the question. Is he asking because the idea is horrendously nothing you’d like to do or he’s implying that you’re not single?

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sounding rather harsher than intended, Jaemin finally realizes how poorly he had worded his previous question. Yet, a part of him feels disappointment whirling in his chest and a desire to feel wanted by you.

“Doesn’t seem like something you’d like: wallowing in your singleness.” He chuckles, remaining lighthearted and playful.

“I really don’t.” Jaemin brings your knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss, his eyes darting quickly on the road ahead now that you’ve entered the metropolitan areas and his speed drops significantly to avoid getting ticketed.

“I’ll come pick you up. Instead of being single tomorrow, you’ll be on a date.” When you turn to examine his facial expression, the serious tension in his jawline and focused eyes alarm you. Your stomach twists into knots and if he couldn't already tell, your palms grow sweaty at his offer.

“That’s such a slap in the face to them.” Pulling your hand away from his, you cross your arms and lean your head against the cold window. “I don’t think I can do that to them.”

“I have a race tomorrow.” He starts, his head tilting over at you with his round gorgeous begging eyes, “at least, come to that with me.”

“Okay, but only because I want to see Haechan.” As if it wasn’t moments ago, Jaemin was the one balls deep in you and now you’re spewing enthusiasm for another man. It’s all a joke, a way for you to conceal your undying attraction for Jaemin.

You still remember the first time you met the sunshine that is Haechan and the jealousy that seeped from Jaemin’s words when he noticed the exchange of flirtation. Haechan is someone you’d knowingly gravitate towards: a man with a loud personality that just knows how to conduct every personality in the room. And at that moment, Jaemin couldn’t tell if being more observant was a good or bad thing.

Jaemin never saw himself as outgoing as his other friends, staying more kept in his own circle, but he had the confidence to fake it. He’s bold, rather impulsive and slightly narcissistic, Jaemin knows how to use his strengths very well.

However, when he saw the soft smirk on Haechan’s face and your shy mannerisms, a small tinge in his chest ignited a died out flame. He didn’t realize it before, but that was the very start of his long tumble of feelings for you.

“Do you say those things to purposefully get me jealous?” Jaemin rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a harsh squeeze. His eyes never leave the road and his tone reverts back to his dominant tone.

“Well, are you jealous?” It’s like you two dance in circles, answer questions with a question does not stop.

And as bratty as your tone is, you don’t expect the quick “yes” that answers back and the smoldering look he gives you briefly before focusing back on the drive.

“Then good.” You huff, ready to hop out of the car after the odd, yet sensual tension. Jaemin pulls up to your house and double parks the car to lean in for a nightly goodbye kiss.

“You’re not coming in?” You try to read his facial expressions, but he hides his emotions too perfectly.

His lips curl into a smile before saying, “I think it’s better I cool off tonight.” And you mindlessly give him a peck, but he holds your face to deepen it. Through the kiss, you can feel the neediness by the way Jaemin shoves his tongue into your mouth. The taste of lust against your palette is difficult to ignore, but your academically responsible mind screams at you about your forgotten quiz.

Your hand lightly taps at his chest and he pulls away, his eyes drinking up your swollen lips. “I have a quiz, Jaemin.”

��I know, sorry. It’s just so easy to get lost in you.” Jaemin kisses your cheek once more before you exit. You smile back at him as his words have grown a strong effect on you lately. Bidding him goodbye, he wishes you sweet dreams as he patiently makes sure you’re fully inside your house.

“Is the music too loud?” Jaemin checks over at your hunched figure in the passenger seat. You’re diligently flipping through your thick textbook, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the other comfortably holding Jaemin’s.

The worst part of college is the never ending midterms that are given at any time. Studying in his car isn’t a rare sight, if anything it is more expected than you not doing anything related to your academics. But Jaemin genuinely doesn’t mind, even being mindful about his own actions to ensure an optimal studying space for you.

He really is an ideal guy. Like his first promise, he keeps you well fed and never once asks you for any monetary pay back. Jaemin adjusts the car temperature before you even step into the vehicle, knowing that you prefer wearing less clothes rather than more. Though he isn’t academically responsible, he still makes the effort to try and understand enough information to pass his classes.

The sole flaw would be the lack of open communication. It’s genuinely difficult for you to read his emotions or intentions. Jaemin always has a dazed look in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it’s an internal fight about whether or not you’re being delusional.

“Music is fine, honey.” The mindless use of a pet name slips from your lips, but your concentration on neoliberalism and globalization doesn’t allow for you to notice.

Nevertheless, Jaemin catches on immediately to the usage. While he showers you in ridiculous nicknames, you’re not one to do so. “Honey?”

“Yes?” You answer back carelessly, not entirely actively listening to him as you highlight an important concept in your book.

“No, you called me honey.”

Looking up from your page, you blink at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. “I did?”

Jaemin chuckles and finally pulls into the overly crowded parking lot, a whole mass of fanboys cheering at the arrival of his flashy vehicle. Everyone just loves Jaemin.

This familiar scene plays like a reel --- several high beams cast light under the dark sky due to the lack of functioning street lamps, dizzy multicolored cars that blaze the tracks, and the all too distinct smell of musky cologne in the chilly air. Oh, and the wide eye admirable stares when you get out of the car.

“Hi, you’re stunning.” A bold new recruit blinks at you in complete awe and awkwardly clears his throat once he realizes his rash comment.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, then at how you plan on handling the situation. You’re flattered, nonetheless, but know that Jaemin didn’t bring you here to flirt with other men. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your membership in the Ridin’ Club.”

The gracefulness in your delicate voice has the youthful recruit swooning and subtly giddy as he runs off to join a group of others that have been eying you across the parking lot. Jaemin casually drapes his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders, knowing the temperature change is going to result in you most likely catching a cold and because you never bring a jacket despite his plea.

“The power you hold.” Jaemin winks at you before pulling you into a larger crowd to socialize with more impressionable recruits.

“Ah, so you’re (Y/N)!” The stranger is unrecognizable, but you giggle to acknowledge his confident statement. “We haven’t met before, but Jaemin was talking about you the other night at our motorcycle meet.”

Your eyes light up, as if you’ve unlocked a new fun fact of Na Jaemin. “You drive a motorcycle too?” You’re truly shocked at the talent of this man.

Jaemin snakes his arm around your lower waist to draw you closer to his side. “Yeah, but I can’t fuck you in a motorcycle, can I?”

Before the other men can comment on the obvious sexual tension that Jaemin created, he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Actually, I can, but we’ll save our decency from unwanted exposure.” His hot breath grazes against the shell of your ear and you just know where you two are going to end up tonight.

“Bro, you guys probably fuck in the backseat of his car.” One of them chimes recklessly, punching at each others’ chest playfully as if he made a decent joke.

“Why don’t you stay to find out?” Jaemin retorts and the grip on your hip becomes tighter. You’re too flustered to add much into this odd form of competitive banter, distracted by none other than the way Jaemin keeps glancing over at you with a delicious gleam in his eyes.

“So what? You don’t care about us now?” You’d know that bratty tone from anywhere as Lee Haechan pushes past everyone else to rush over to the both of you.

“Aw, are your feelings hurt?” Jaemin sticks his tongue out at his friend before cordially sharing a handshake with him.

“Just slightly.” Haechan looks over at you with a wide grin and playful eyes, “hello, my pretty girl.”

“Drop the possessives, Haechan.” Jaemin rolls his eyes with an irritable twitch on his lips.

He hates how obviously jealous he gets. It’s something too difficult for himself to control, he’s exhausted his efforts to bite his tongue whenever it comes to other people’s flirtations. The thought of someone else calling you theirs doesn’t sit well with him.

“I understand your jealousy, Jaem. If someone was flirting with (Y/N), I wouldn’t be able to stand it either.” Haechan fixes the falling jacket on your shoulders. “But she can handle herself, I know those pretty lips have a mind of their own.” His gaze drops momentarily, yet obvious enough for you to grow shy at how strong Haechan is coming off tonight.

“Stop trying to corrupt her, that’s my job.” Jaemin playfully pushes at Haechan’s chest and they both break out laughing.

“I haven’t said one thing and you’re both talking about me as if I’m not here.” Your small pout is literally the cutest thing to Jaemin. He physically has to stop himself from planting the sweetest kiss on it.

It’s blatantly clear that you’re hot stuff. You’re the perfect example of a head turner, your captivating aura has its ability to suffocate those around you. However, Jaemin has seen all sides of you, but overall finding you so entirely cute. And oddly enough, Jaemin has a knack for cute things.

“Is that (Y/N) I hear?” Huang Renjun engulfs you in a hug, showing clear affection and doesn’t mind doing so. “How did your project go?”

“It went well. You accomplish a lot when you don’t procrastinate.” Renjun gleams at your statement and if Jaemin is delusional enough, he’d probably mistaken the twinkle in his eyes for infatuation instead of admiration.

“You’re so responsible, why are you messing with Jaemin?” Renjun sighs and though his question is more of a joke, there is some truth behind his words.

Your friendship with his friends differ immensely compared to other girls who have come around. Like Jaemin had said before, his boys were going to like you and they do, a lot. Sometimes making it obvious that you’re too good for him.

Jeno comes up from the side, an unidentifiable bruise on his neck and a new cut on his brow. Lee Jeno being such a rough character, his appearance speaks well about how his day has been.

But when he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all his pain is replaced with joy and security. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in so long!” The enthusiastic boy rushes over to greet you with a warm smile.

“I’m pretty sure I was here a week ago.” You laugh, but welcome him in your arms for a tender friendly hug and pat his head out of habit.

“It’s been a week?! That’s so long.” Jeno narrows his eyes at Jaemin and flicks his forehead.

“Ow!” Jaemin exclaims while rubbing the pain away. “You act like she doesn’t go to the same school as us and therefore, can see her any time you want to.” The tone in Jaemin’s voice raises some eyebrows as they all exchange glances to each other before bursting into laughter.

“Like your jealous ass would allow for that?” Haechan remarks and Jaemin doesn’t outwardly react. However, Jaemin’s hand is squeezing you so tight that you’re more than certain he’s bothered by the comment.

“Oh, stop it. You all know I’m Team Jaemin. He does have the most wins this past month.” You only know that through Jaemin’s proud boasting, anything else in the racing world is unknown to you.

Jaemin situates you in between his legs as he slightly sits on the hood of his car. His arms wrap around your middle and chin rests on your shoulder. Public display of affection isn’t a problem for him, and you learned much earlier that Jaemin can’t keep his hands off of you.

Renjun scoffs at your whimsical fact, in absolute disbelief. “It hurts more hearing you say it. I’m getting my car upgraded, but once it’s done, I’m going to blaze his ass on the tracks.”

“Are you racing today?” Jeno asks the blue haired fellow that clings onto you like a koala.

“Yeah, against a newbie. Apparently he’s really good, so I’m not too sure I’ll win.” Jaemin mumbles into your hair.

“You say that every time, yet you win!” Renjun crosses his arms, weight shifting to his left leg as he pops his hip out. There is always a sense of competition between anyone with Renjun.

Jaemin perks up behind you and when you turn around in his arms, you’re face to face with a beaming smile. “That’s because I have you.” Eyes lock with yours, he isn’t saying that directed to Renjun. Na Jaemin has you wrapped around his pinky, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach are too hard to ignore.

“Alright, lovebirds. Get in your car and let’s start this shit.” Haechan groans and claps his hands to draw the crowd’s attention. Cupping them around his mouth, he roars into the starry night, “let’s roll!”

During the race, Jaemin’s number one priority is to keep you safe. While you’ve sat in his car for a number of times now, it’s different once the loud bang goes off and he’s hitting 100 mph. Tonight’s track is much more dangerous, with twists and turns that can have the vehicle flying weightlessly if he’s not careful.

“You trust me, right?” Jaemin has both hands on the wheel and the engine rumbling as you both anticipate the start of the race.

Spectators watch on the sidelines as if it’s the ultimate battle, but Jaemin doesn’t pay them much mind. He’s more concerned about you instead. “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’ve proven yourself that you’re an excellent driver, so let’s win this.”

Jaemin smirks at your encouraging words, feeling a warmth spread across his chest. “I’ll tap out any time you want me to, okay?”

You nod and the initial whip of the car is so intense that you didn’t even register the sound off. It’s not your first race, but it’s been awhile since the last one. When you adjust to the pressure, the lanes in front of you cause a slight queasiness in your stomach.

It’s a two lane windy road that wraps around the mountain side and Jaemin happens to be in the outer lane. All it takes is a second of lost control and you two will hit the metal railings that guard the cliff below. Despite your inner panic, Jaemin guides you through the pooling anxiety that leaves you restless.

“(Y/N), look up and out the window. We’re coming up on the cliff side view, I’ve always wanted to bring you here.” Your eyes land on the dazzling glitter that dances on the ripples of the lake. It’s so vast, the moon high up in the sky is reflected on the water below. It’s a romantic scene of melancholy and bliss. Suddenly, you feel at peace in the middle of this high speed race.

“It’s beautiful, Jaem.” You whisper calmly and he’d reach for your hand to hold, but races take too much wheel control. And he’d turn to look at you, but races take too much concentration on the road ahead.

But throughout every obstacle, he hears the gentleness and the solidarity in your cadence in the midst of all the high stress. He, too, feels peace. He feels calm knowing that you’re simply by his side, even in the face of danger. So, he can finally admit to himself… he genuinely developed feelings for you.

Before you know it, you’re thrusted side to side from the sharp turns and the adrenaline kicks in when the other racer catches up right next to Jaemin. “Fuck,” Jaemin curses underneath his breath and steps harshly on the acceleration. “Baby, I’m going to go a bit faster so hold onto something.” He warns and your hand finds the grab handle. It’s neck and neck at this point.

Usually, you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid becoming too overwhelmed by the sights in front of you. Tonight is different, not entirely knowing why, you’re observing every element that circles around the perimeter.

The finish line is up ahead, but there is no sign that the other racer is slowing down. Then, you see it: the fatal mistake that can cost you both of your lives if you didn’t catch it. “Jaemin, watch out!” You yelp when the other car inches dangerously close, your warning allows Jaemin to make a controlled swerve away from a possible hit.

Jaemin shakes his head and tsks at the recklessness. “Now I know why he’s good. It’s foul play.” He blows his bang out of his eyes and casually says, “thank you for warning me. This is why I need you by my side.”

He makes it to the finish line barely before the other, winning the race by half a second. Jaemin brakes smoothly, tire marks scrapping the concrete below, and you both exit the car to celebrate with everyone else.

But before the mass of eager shouting men make their way over to you two, Jaemin hurries to your side to pull you into a steamy, rewarding kiss. The scene is just like the movies; his hand on your lower back and yours on his chest lightly. His lips taste like triumph, like he had won more than just a simple race against a random stranger. He’s won the best person he could ever have.

You two fled the scene after cussing out the other racer. It was a rare sight to see: Jaemin being all bothered and angry, practically fuming after scrambling back into the driver’s seat. However, your mind had mischievous plans of its own and all it took was one look from his hooded eyes for you to announce that you wanted him --- badly.

Back in your usual abandoned parking lot, Jaemin pauses before following you to the back seats. With the engine off and the dead of the night being absolute silent, the tension remains thick around you two. “(Y/N),” Jaemin is about to confess something he never thought he’d admit. He turns to you sitting in the middle seat with just your panties on and a curious look on your face.

His heart burns and despite being so incredibly aroused, he controls his urges enough to be able to say, “I’m into you.”

“I know you’re into me, that’s how we ended up like this in the first place.” You giggle cluelessly to his words, still not understanding the odd shift in mood and intentions. It’s always his unclear, messy intentions.

Though he can’t entirely figure out his puzzle pieces, he has plenty to connect the dots. “I like you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my girlfriend.”

You’re stunned. Did Jaemin just confess to you as you sit in your panties ready to fuck? This softness is different from the sides you’ve seen of him. It’s similar to a lost bunny, wandering grasslands to find a purpose. He looks so fragile, one intense stare and he’d crumble. This softness is vulnerability.

“So do it.” The boldness catches him off guard, but switches on the dominance in him. “If you want me, come show it.”

He climbs over the middle console to push you into the leather seats. “Not acting shy anymore, are you?” Practically ripping your shirt off of you, he cups your breast lightly and flicks at your nipples. Your immediate reaction results in a rush of wetness down your core.

“Before I forget,” sitting up, you share a passionate kiss that you’ve held back long enough. You give it every ounce of feeling you have for him. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I like you too.”

“It’s obvious, baby.” Kissing your nose, he wraps a hand around your throat to lightly push you back down. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me happy.” Jaemin smirks, hand still choking you gently and pampering your jawline with soft kisses.

His free hand reaches down into your dripping panties, circling your clit with your wetness. The sensation causes you to whimper for more. “Daddy, give it to me.” You wiggle in his palm, knowing that the nickname is more than effective.

“My sweet (Y/N) wants to get fucked?” Jaemin rolls your underwear off and rids himself of his own bottoms.

“Yes, please.” Through the darkness, his hard dick stands proudly. Jaemin lines himself up as he thrusts into you without another second of hesitation. He waits for you to adjust to his size, his tip barely grazing your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You take me so well, my pretty baby.” Jaemin starts moving his hips, slowly at first to build a rhythm. Taking your legs, he presses them into your chest to fuck you at a deeper angle. And you feel him practically in your guts, his cock pumping against your walls deliciously and bumping into your g-spot. “Do you want more of me?”

Your train of thought is in utter shambles and whatever Jaemin is saying to you barely processes. You’re overwhelmed by a pleasure that fills every system, every part of your body. To answer him, you let out an incoherent noise of approval.

Jaemin pulls your hips down while thrusting forward into you, maximizing every inch of his strokes. This single action causes you to scream and grip onto the headrest. “Who knew my sweet girl could be so fucking dirty?” Jaemin chuckles darkly, his cadence dropping several decibels. “When I first met you, I wanted to ruin you.”

All of his filthy words edge you closer to your release as he continues to repeat his previous motion. He holds your hips in place to grind into you, the feeling of his tip rubbing your walls has your eyes rolling back. “Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”

“Yes!” You yell, the tight ball in your lower abdomen is bound to break any minute. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You beg and moan, the arch in your back lifts you from the seat of the car. Jaemin snaps his hips into you, drilling you quickly to reach your high. And you break. An euphoric cry fills the air as your walls clench around his length. You hear the extra wetness create a slick noise, but Jaemin isn’t done with you yet.

“You wanted to cum so fucking badly. I’ll reward you with one more for being such a good girl for me.” His thumb flicks at your clit and you convulse into spasms from the sensitivity. Your violently shaking legs can’t hold themselves up anymore and Jaemin rests them on his shoulders. He lines kisses along your ankle as the pleasure overtakes you.

“I don’t think I can do it.” You whine, your fingers twisting and toes curling.

“You are going to try, okay baby?” He coos, but it’s most definitely a demand. He sits back on his knees to pick up more speed, fucking endlessly into your swollen pussy and thumb rubbing fast strips against your bud.

“I’m going to snap, Jaem.” You cry, tears rimming your eyes and before you know it, a second wave hits you. Your second orgasm is ruinous and has you squirming around to regain some sense of control.

“Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Jaemin slows down as your walls grip around him again, tighter this time. “I’m going to fill you up with cum,--- watch it drip out of you.” He grunts while releasing into you, his dick twitching and spraying your insides with white.

He pulls out as hot, white cum spills from your pussy. You take this moment to catch your breath and relax your legs. However, Jaemin coats his two fingers and shoves the cum back into you. “Jaemin!” You exclaim at the sudden intrusion.

He curls them into your plushy walls and finger fucks you into another oblivion. “Wait, again?” Your hands wrap around his wrist, but Jaemin moves too fast for you to catch it.

You’re a moaning mess again, louder than before. Jaemin leans down and flicks his tongue against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. Your back arches automatically and a low animalistic scream rises from your throat.

He observes your body lines underneath the moonlight and the last remaining light the broken street lamps have to offer. Your face contours and you’re so far out into ecstasy that you don’t notice how intensely Jaemin watches you lose yourself.

“It feels too good!” With one last thrilling orgasm, you almost pass out and you see small stars of dizziness. He soaks up every last bit of your cathartic reaction and festers a small sense of pride that he can make you feel all this pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You’re beyond impressive, baby.” Jaemin pulls his fingers out to lick them clean and finds some wipes to help you out of your sticky situation.

“Now that you’re my girlfriend, can we cuddle at any time now? Not just as after care.” He peers up at you and the one word enacts a burning warmth to spread across your chest. That is the best nickname he can call you by.

“I think the Singles Girls Only house event is still going on, but after that, yes a million times.” You laugh and wrap your arms around him into a big loving hug.

Jaemin feels right at home. All the long years of living carelessly and wild, he’s finally found someone worth the extra mile. While Jaemin was a thriving adventure to be explored, you were his comfort to run back to.

It is through the intimacy of your backseat chronicles that Jaemin was able to fall deeper for you. You’re his lucky charm, for some reason, he always feels better around you.

#neosmutcollective #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #kpopscape #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct smut #jaemin #nct #jaemin smut #jaemin scenarios #na jaemin #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct dream smut #nct imagines #nct dream series #ridinclub

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i-make-fun-of-spn-characters · 3 years ago

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I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤

SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING

I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).

The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.

Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby.

Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants.

Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones.

I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that.

Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that.

*Breathes*

Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations.

#being serious for 5 seconds #RANTING RANTING RANTING #spicy spicy ghost pepper extract #mail

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago

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What do you think being child katsuki’s friend/crush would be like behind the scenes? Personally I see it as constant teasing and like pulling of the hair on his part but also some wholesome fun moments like pushing each other into like a stream or something and just splashing one an other or being competitive with the most random things and such

I love how you wrong the angry Pom Pom so I’d love how you’d see his friendship

no wait bc now im thINKING bout it,, rllY thinking about it

-firstly, i agree with everything u have said so far.

-little katsuki would absolUTELY pull ur hair. And not like, playful little teasing tugs either, no, he’s full on yANKING. ofc it hurts, so then u turn around and yell at him, but too bad for u bc that’s what he wanted the entire time. for u to pay attention to him.

-on the stream thing, absolutely. the second that little devil sees even a dROP of water, he’s trying to push u into it. i’m talking puddles, streams, rivers, lakes, even rain runoff from a gutter. doesn’t matter. if he can somehow push u into it, he will. he just thinks it’s funny when ur hair is all wet and u get angry, alright, and that’s the only reason he needs.

-challenges u to races. all the time, over everything. eating? race. tying your shoes? race. brushing your teeth? race. everything is a race with tiny bakugou, and he is determined to win.

-he builds the best forts. he just does. he’ll be like “look at this, i did it. bc i’m the best.” and point his little grubby hands at like, a three-story blanket fort complete with a garage. no one knows how he did it, but he did, and ur the only person he lets in for free. (everyone else has to sacrifice snacks)

-bro he’s a jealous/possessive adult, but holy shit, little katsuki is 100000x worse. if ur his best friend/crush than that means he’ll choose u over every one else, every time, no exceptions; now, that also means he expects you to choose him every time too. will throw an absolute fit if u dont. like, u wanna make more friends?? too bad bc he’s screaming at all of them until they cry and leave both of u alone. pls, i would love to say differently bc it would be -cuter~ but no, he is an absolutely toxic child. he just is.

-he will share his food, but only one piece. and it’ll be the 2nd to last piece so u have to sit and watch him eat the entire bag first. bc he’s a little shit. don’t ask me about this one i just know it okay

-kleptomania. i mean it. if he sees some weird shiny thing he thinks is cool and wants to show u, he’ll just take it. just completely swipe it out from wherever and whomever and somehow get away with it bc he’s a devious, devious genius child. but he’ll just stockpile these little things and throw them at u if he thinks ur upset. like his brain is just a constant loop of “wow, ur sad? what if shove some assorted trash at u? how bout now? wait- ur still sad? why? it’s a gift, and a good one bc i’m the best, so suck it up and be happy.”

-bb katsuki is constantly bragging. just constantly. like, and u can’t even tell him to stop bc he’s not rlly saying anything that isn’t true. he rlly just is stronger and smarter than most other kids. it sucks but he is.

-he is still somehow weirdly attentive?? as a child. like, similar to how he is as a teenager/adult, but be more obvious about it since this is before all that pride and embarrassment forms. so he’ll try his best to take care of u and make sure ur not getting hurt.

-tiny katsuki’s best misguided ~protective~ hits include:

1.) mercilessly targeting other snot-nosed children. pls bc one kid in ur class could throw a miLD insult at u, like “you’re a butthead” or something equally dumb and katsuki will turn around, slow and terrfying like he’s possessed and just ~explode~. lil mans beats the kid into the ground, even before his quirk develops, and then tops it off with a comment like “i bet your mommy doesn’t love you” while the other kid lies bruised and writhing.

2.) property damage. when his quirk does develop and he figures out u like watching his explosions, he’ll just blow things up when ur upset. like, as a way to try and comfort u. now, ofc it works bc what child doesn’t like loud noises, but he gets in big trouble for destroying things. not that it matters, he still keeps doing it. again and again and again.

3.) being an absolute stain on civilized bug society. like, if u don’t like bugs then he’s hunting them down. scouring for them and flipping over logs just to smash all the little fuckers right in front of u. and then saying “ur such a baby, Y/N. Look they’re all dead now so stop crying.”

4.) and finally, yelling at ur parents...... no fr. like, lets say, for example, ur mom is just doing her job, parenting you, right, but all katsuki sees is u crumbling and crying so he’ll just yell right back at her. ur mom will be like “i told you no for a reason, Y/n!” after u get hurt doing something dumb, n katsuki will look her dead in the face and “that’s stupid. ur stupid. stop yelling it makes you look dumb and ugly.” pls pray for him bc mitsuki beats his aSS when she finds out.

-ultimately, tiny bakugou katsuki is a menace. he is a biggest little shit on the face of the planet, okay? but even if he takes great pride in being an absolute holy terror to everyone and everything, he tries to be a little softer for u. maybe. if he feels like it that day.

so in conclusion, good luck charlie🧍‍♀️

—/—

no pls bc i love writing for requests sm!! this was so much fun ty ty!!! also,, deadass never thought much about child katsuki before, surprisingly, but holy shit i think i’m gonna fixate on it for probably forever- like he’s just so funny

hope u enjoyed @onepiece-baby !!!

#bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bnha fic #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou headcanons #bakugou hcs

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corysmiles · 4 years ago

Text

Little Streamer AU Part 1

cw/language (bc Tommy of course)

Tommy kicked his legs back and forth anxiously as his father drove him up to Brighton in their clunky family van. The windows were cracked open allowing a cool breeze into the car that washed over Tommy like a wave. His much bigger father just drove on in silence with only quiet music filling the car, leaving Tommy’s mind to wander in excitement.

He was finally going to get to meet his friends; he’d finally have other friends who were the same height as him. He loved his human family and friends sure, but he could count on his fingers how many other tinies he had met in his life. And that number went down even farther if he thought about how many tinies he’d actually had as close friends.

That all changed once his parents had gifted him a tiny pc for his 13th birthday. He met tons of other tinies through streaming and talked to them all almost every day. So when Wilbur had told Tommy about the meet up they were planning in Brighton with Phil and Tubbo Tommy couldn’t be any more ecstatic.

“God you’d think you won the lottery with how excited you are child,” Wilbur had said to him through a Discord call when Tommy was packing for his trip.

“I’m just really really excited to see everyone dickhead,” Tommy spat out as he tried to shove even more clothes into his already full suitcase which was made of scraps of red fabric poorly sewn together.

“Awe does lil Tommy want to see his famwy,” Wilbur laughed.

Tommy frowned and flipped off his monitor even though he knew Wilbur couldn’t see him.

“I’m just excited alright I think it’ll be cool,” Tommy replied before pausing to add on, “Plus itll be nice to get away from motherinnit.”

They had stayed on the call for almost another hour after that conversation until Tommy was fully packed. They’d said goodnight to each other and fallen asleep anxiously waiting for the meet up.

Now Tommy could barely believe that in only a few minutes he’d be meeting his friends in person.

His father glared down at the GPS on his phone and huffed as he made a sharp turn, making Tommy’s car seat (which was tied down to the larger seat) shift harshly to the side.

The car pulled into the parking garage of a brick apartment complex before it stuttered to a halt.

“We’re here Tom,” his dad smiled as he reached his hand down for Tommy to climb in.

“Fuck yeahhhhh,” Tommy grinned as he stepped up onto his dad’s hand and let him cary the boy out into the cool Brighton air.

His dad walked around for a little bit with Tommy held in his fist as he searched around for the tinies Tommy was meeting up with. However as he searched it became more and more clear there were no other tinies in the area.

“Hey Tom...are you sure they’re here?”

Tommy grumbled from his hand and pushed his head out from between his fingers to look around, “I mean yeah they have to be here why would they lie about this.”

Tommy’s father sighed, “I don’t know I really don’t see anyone here who looks even remotely close to your size...”

Tommy squinted and looked around for any familiar faces before spotting a man with brown curly hair and a pair of circular glasses. He seemed familiar to Tommy for some reason and he just couldn’t seem to figure out what drew him to the tall human.

Until he heard his laugh. The man chuckled deeply as he talked to whoever it was he was chatting with on his phone and Tommy felt his heart stop.

That was Wilbur...his friend who he had assumed was a tiny all this time....and he was fucking huge.

“Uh...dad,” Tommy whispered.

“Yeah Tom?”

“That’s Wilbur,” he said slowly.

His father’s face contorted in confusion as he stared at the tall man across the street.

“What do you mean, isnt he supposed to be well..you know,” he said as he gestured to his pointer finger and thumb that were only about an inch apart.

“Yeah I uh...yeah I thought that too,” Tommy said softly.

His father shrugged and started to approach Wilbur, “Well okay then let’s go meet him, ay?”

He tapped the brunettes shoulder and immediately Wilbur’s face lit up with a smile as he hung up on whatever call he was on to greet Tommy’s dad.

“Hi hi I’m Will it’s very nice to meet you and I can’t wait to see your son I promise we’ll be safe and careful while we’re out and around and-“

“Woah woah it’s okay,” Tommy’s dad laughed at the younger man’s flustered enthusiasm, “if Tom trusts you I do to.”

He then motioned for Wilbur to stretch out his hand which the brunette assumed was for a handshake until the older man’s hand never met his own.

“Open it up,” Tommy’s dad said.

Wilbur complied in confusion leaving his hand turned up towards Tommy’s father when a small weight was placed on his palm.

“Huh you wh-“

Wilbur stared down at his palm in amazement at the tiny boy in front of him. He was so small he could wrap his hand around him completely if he wanted to and though he was an almost comforting weight he could probably crush him with just one hand. The thought immediately made him feel sick.

“Tommy?” Wilbur asked incredulously.

Tommy smiled and laughed nervously from his hand as Wilbur’s fingers instinctively went to wrap closer around him to keep him safe.

“Yeah big man...I uh, not gonna lie I thought you’d be a lot smaller huh...” Tommy stuttered out.

Wilbur nodded slowly, “uh yeah I could say the same for you but uh...you know the opposite.”

For the life of him Wilbur could not stop staring at the boy in his hands, the boy who he thought of as a sort of brother, the boy who looked so tiny in his hand, the boy who now was starting to look nervous under the older man’s gaze.

The moment was broken by Tommy’s dad forcing out a cough and clapping his hands together.

“Well Will have fun with him, if he dies you have my number,” he said with a laugh before walking off to his car, leaving Wilbur alone with Tommy.

“Ay mate was that Tommy’s dad where is he?”the pair heard as a shorter man jogged up to the two.

Tommy immediately recognized Phil, his internet father-figure, as he ran up with two cups of water for him and Wilbur. And fuck...he was also human too.

He tried to keep his disappointment from showing as he looked up at the practically giant man.

“Uh...yeah Phil he’s uh-well he’s here,” Wilbur said slowly.

Phil looked at him in confusion and laughed, “Uhuh so he’s invisible now or wha-“

Phil felt his mouth fall open as Wilbur turned to him with his hands held out. In Wilbur’s hands sat the annoying gremlin child who he had spent so much time on calls with helping out with his pc and gaming.

“He’s uh...very small,” Phil said.

Tommy laughed nervously at Phil’s confusion and stood up shakily to get closer to Phil.

“Yeah well...I could say the same for you bitch” Tommy smiled.

Phil frowned down at the kid who was still just as annoying even with his short stature and sighed, “Alright well uh I guess this is a thing huh?”

Tommy hummed in agreement and spat out, “Well in all fairness I thought you were all tinies too so this is just as shocking for me bitches.”

“Uhuh,” Wilbur laughed as he pulled Tommy back closer to his chest.

“Well I guess we gotta go meet up with Tubbo now, and if he’s the size of a fucking rat too I’m out of here,” Phil chuckled as he watched Tommy cuddle up into Wilbur’s hands.

“Yeah...” Wilbur responded but he didn’t seem like he was really paying attention to Phil’s words.

The taller man was completely focused on wrapping the tiny boy up between his fingers. The need to protect him and keep him close almost overwhelmed him.

Phil sighed at the two and grabbed Wilbur’s forearm to pull him away. This was going to be a very strange meet up for sure.

#little streamer au #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #t!tommy #g!wilbur #g!philza #corywrites

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tobesolonely · 4 years ago

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more time with you

a/n: hello everyone! here's some dad!harry for you all :-) i had a lot of fun writing it and am wondering if this family could be a little recurring thing?? lmk what you all think! i hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: fluff (super cute dad!harry!!!), oral (female receiving), fingering, dirty talk

word count: 2.5 k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

If you knew that getting your husband to take a break from all the late nights in the studio, the commitment to several different interviews a week, and the daunting possibility of a world tour within the near future, was by telling him you were ready for another baby, you would've done so way sooner.

Your daughter, Allison (or Ally, she reminded you every time you and Harry would get upset with her and call her by her full name), was nearly six years old. You knew that you and Harry wanted a big family, so it was a surprise to everyone that knew the two of you that you didn't have a house full of babies running around yet. Needless to say, you were ecstatic when Harry agreed he was also ready for another child. He immediately pushed back everything he had planned within the current year to the following year.

"Next album can come out a lil' bit later, m' sure everyone will understand." He reassured you when you asked him if he really had to cancel absolutely every single thing he had in the works. "Just wanna take some time off for you, Ally, and our second love bug. Loved the time off I spent with yeh and Ally when she was jus' a baby, 'member that?"

You smile at the memory of you and Harry being new parents, trying to care for a fussy baby that wouldn't sleep through the night for the life of you until she was nearly two years old. After that, Harry decided he was ready to get back to work, admitting that he wouldn't be as guilty leaving you with a baby that sleeps through the night versus one that wakes up every few hours.

"I remember," you sigh contentedly. "I can't wait to do it all over again. Also, can't wait to start trying…" You trail off, trying to slip your hand under Harry's t-shirt that he wore to bed the night before.

Harry tsks, giving you a cheeky look and moves your hand out from under the fabric of his shirt. "Not now, darling. Ally's football game is at ten, so we gotta wake her up soon."

Letting out a soft sigh, you cross your arms, knowing Harry was right. You were just excited by all that talk about expanding your family that you wanted to get started right away. If Ally was late to her football game, though, she'd be furious at the two of you because that would mean sitting out the first quarter. She hated not being able to play as much as she possibly could. "I'll go wake her up, and you can make her a bowl of fruit or something like that? Needs something light, so she doesn't complain about a stomach ache with all that running around she'll be doing."

"Oh yeah, wouldn't be good now, would it? Can't have a repeat of last time," he laughs at the memory of you frantically calling him during half time of your daughter's football game last year while he was at a meeting going over tour logistics to scold him for making her such a heavy, greasy breakfast, while he laughed and told Jeff about Ally's little incident. "I'll go get her breakfast started." He places a kiss on your cheek and swiftly gets out of bed. You get up shortly after him, tie your robe around your body, and head down the hall to your daughter's room.

"Ally," you knock gently on the frame of her door. "Time to get up, bug. It's half past 8, and your coach sent Mumma a message saying he wanted everyone there by 9:15. Up you go, sweetie."

Your daughter groans and pulls the covers up higher over her face. "M' sleepy, Mumma. Don' wanna go today." You smile at her and walk over to her tiny bed, sitting down on the edge.

"I'm sorry you're sleepy, bug. But your teammates need you! 'Member what Mumma and daddy told you about bein' a team player when you told us you wanted to play footie like all your friends in school? They're gonna be missin' you if you're not there with them today, sweetie."

At this, Ally peaks her head out from under her covers, sleep still in her eyes. You continue on. "And besides bug, daddy's gonna be at your game today! He hasn't seen you play very often, has he?" Ally's eyes immediately light up when you remind her that Harry would be in attendance. He was a wonderful husband and dad, but he wasn't perfect. Sometimes he'd forget about her games and practices and already have things scheduled that he just couldn't cancel at the last minute. Although your daughter understood that her daddy was very busy, she hasn't quite grasped the magnitude of exactly how famous Harry actually was. Therefore, she wasn't quite sure why he wasn't able to make it to every single one of her events.

"Daddy's gonna watch? He's gonna see my whole game!" Ally all but squeals, kicking her covers off. "Where's daddy? We can go now!"

You grin at your daughter's enthusiasm, thrilled that she was so excited for her daddy to watch her play. "Slow down, babe. I'll get your uniform out of the dryer, and you can go down and eat breakfast with daddy. How's that sound?"

Ally nods and quickly runs out of her room, ignoring you calling out to her and asking her to please stop running. Shaking your head, you get up from her bed and retrieve her football uniform. You hear her talking a mile a minute downstairs to Harry, telling him how excited she is that he was gonna get to see her play and get to see all her 'cool friends'. Ally was a daddy's girl for sure, and you loved every minute of it. After getting her uniform from the dryer, you lay it out on her bed and go downstairs to join your family.

"...and I can run so fast, Mr. Coach says I run fast like a road-runner! You'll think it's so cool, daddy, I promise!" You walk in on Ally enthusiastically telling Harry what to expect when he's at her game.

"Is that so, bub? Are you the fastest one on your team?" Harry entertains the conversation, setting a bowl of oatmeal in front of your daughter.

"Yeah, daddy! And I don't even trip and stuff over the ball anymore like I used to! Mumma says I'm more 'co-ordinated'!"

You and Harry let out a giggle at your daughter's pronunciation of the word 'coordinated'. Yet, she doesn't notice, hurriedly stuffing her breakfast into her mouth.

"I'm proud of you for being more coordinated, bub," Harry ruffles her hair. "C'mon and let's finish up so Mumma can help you get ready for your game, don't wanna be late, do ya?"

⋆⋆⋆

"That's my girl, Ally! Go- oh, wrong way, poppet! Other way!"

You watched amusedly from one of the folding chairs you and Harry brought. He's eagerly yelling to your daughter on the field who was now about to score a goal for the opposing team because she was running in the wrong direction. She kicks the ball to one of her teammates, and Harry claps loudly, causing her to stop and wave at him.

"Nice kick, Ally! Pay attention!"

The other parents are looking amused at Harry, some knowing who he is, you assumed, based on how they had their camera phones out. Harry turns to look at you unbothered, a proud grin on his face.

"My daughter is a football star! Gonna go pro, that one is."

"Our daughter," you jokingly tell him. "And sit down, Harry! You're distracting her. She has looked over this way at you probably a dozen times already!" Harry playfully rolls his eyes at you but sits down anyway, knowing you're right. He settles down for the rest of the game, cheering loudly for her but staying seated so she doesn't get distracted by him.

As soon as the game is over, Ally immediately runs over to her dad and starts talking excitedly. "Did ya see how good I played, daddy? Did ya? I told you I can run fast! Did you see how fast I run? I'm fast, do you think so?"

Harry lets out a loud laugh, hoisting your daughter upon his shoulders. "I saw indeed, poppet. Really startin' to think yeh the fastest lil' bug I've ever seen in my life." Ally's eyes widen at this statement, and you snicker as you fold the chairs you and Harry were sitting in back up. The three of you are getting ready to leave when one of Ally's teammates and her mother comes up to you with smiles on their faces.

"Great game, Ally! You're such a good little striker!" Ally beams at this compliment, as does Harry.

"Whadya say when someone tells yeh something nice, bug?" He gently reminds her. Ally lets out a timid 'thank you,' and Harry gives her a little squeeze on her leg.

"Can Ally come to my house and eat pizza with me? And we can play with my toys, and we can watch a movie!" Ally's friend looks between you and Harry, a pleading look in her eyes. "My Mumma said it's okay with her if it's okay with you!"

"Oh, we wouldn't want to intrude…" you start, but Ally's friend's mother waves her hand.

"S'not a problem at all! I'd love to have Ally over, lil' angel she is. She's always welcome over at mine." She tells you and Harry truthfully. You look at Harry and shrug, non-verbally telling him if he's okay with it, then you are. Ally's been over to her friend's house before and always has a great time, and you had no plans as a family for the remainder of the day.

"Okay yeah, that'll be fun won't it, bub?" He asks your daughter, lifting her off his shoulders and setting her back down. He reaches into his pocket and pulls his wallet out. "Let us at least pay for food and some desserts too, if the girls want. I'm sure they will, though." He winks at Ally and her friend, and they giggle and go to kick the ball back and forth to each other while the adults talk. Her mother thanks him profusely but tells him it isn't necessary, but Harry, being the kind person he is, insists and gives her a few bills to cover the girls' day together. He never liked sending your daughter with someone else's parents without money because he thought it was rude to expect them to pay for his kid. He usually ended up paying for all parties involved as a 'thank you' for having your daughter as company. After telling your daughter to be good and have fun, you and Harry walk hand in hand back towards the car.

"Got the whole rest of tha day to ourselves, don't we?" He asks, rubbing his thumb over yours. You hum in acknowledgment and turn to look at him. He has a cheeky grin on his face, and you immediately know what he's thinking.

"Think we should get started on that baby, then?"

⋆⋆⋆

As soon as the two of you are through the front door of your house, Harry has his hands all over you- one on your neck, the other gripping your ass.

"Harry," you moan out breathlessly. "M'not gonna conceive our baby next to the front door."

"Well lucky fo' you, I wasn't plannin' on takin' yeh next to the front door, hmm," he says against your neck, placing a wet kiss on it. "Jump."

You wrap your legs around Harry as he walks you to your couch. "Wasn't really thinkin' 'bout the couch either you goof, but I guess it's better than the floor."

Harry huffs in annoyance and lifts his head to look you in the eyes. "Wan' me to put this baby in yeh or not?"

"Course I do," you retort, reaching in between you to unbutton your jeans. "Been thinkin' about it since this morning."

Harry hums in response and lifts up your shirt, kissing his way down from right below your breasts until he's at your hips. "Gonna let me have a lil' taste first? Make sure you're all nice an' wet fo' me, pet?"

You nod quickly, lifting your hips so Harry could have an easier time getting your bottoms off. He yanks them off and flings them over his shoulder. Harry runs a calloused finger over your underwear, causing you to shudder. "Lets get these off, yeah? That alright with you?" You whimper, bucking your hips up against Harry's hand ghosting over your core.

"Gotta let me hear you say it Y/N, yes or no?" He has the most shit-eating grin on his face, and you know he's just trying to get you all hot and bothered.

"Yes Harry, please get these panties off of me," you all but beg. "Need to feel your tongue on me."

That's all Harry needs to hear before he's hooking your underwear in his fingers, shoving it to the side. He flattens out his tongue and licks slowly up your folds, moaning against you. "Always taste so good, pet. Love havin' my head between yeh thighs like this."

Letting out a rather loud moan, your eyes squeeze shut as you tangle one hand in Harry’s hair, the other gripping the side of the couch. He takes your clit in his mouth and hallows his cheeks, suckly gently. “Feel good, Y/N? Let me know when I’m makin’ yeh feel good, gotta hear it.” You nod, feeling yourself growing close already even though Harry hasn’t been at this for more than three minutes.

“Need your fingers, H,” you breathlessly tell him. “Make me come, please.”

You don’t have to tell Harry again. He sucks on his middle finger and slowly slides it in you, curling it up and searching for that sweet, spongy spot he’s so good at finding. His finger curls against it and you yelp in pleasure, grabbing onto his hair even tighter. “Feels s’good, baby. Fuck, don’t stop please. Whatever you do, don’t fuckin’ stop.” Harry speeds up, sucking even harder on your clit to help you reach your first orgasm of the day.

“Can feel your tight pussy throbbin’ round my finger, know yeh gonna come, Y/N. S’tha feel good?” You move your hands onto your chest, pushing your bra up and rolling your nipples between your fingers. Harry moans at the sight and flicks his tongue on your clit, middle finger moving nimbly inside your cunt. Without warning, your orgasm washes over you, and Harry helps you ride it out, not stopping his licks against your clit. He gradually slows down his movements against your pussy and lifts his head, a big dimpled grin on his glistening face. “Always taste delicious, but I think I wanna feel ya come around m’cock now. I mean, I am on a mission to put another baby in yeh, after all.”

You beam, knowing this was just the start of having Harry to yourself a lot more often.

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #dad!harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styes one shot #harry styles fanfiction #fine line #harry styles #thanks for reading!#more time with you

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collisiondiscourse · 4 years ago

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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

kofi || commission details

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

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The Rewards of Getting Shot | Bucky Barnes

Hey lovelies back at it with the Dinner at DIzzy's content. I would call it a drabble but I would be lying lmao. It is, however, the first smut of the event and that feels special lol. I'm a tad iffy about this one-- usually the smut I write breaches 8k words and I am so not used to condensing it so it's an experience for us all lol. Please do enjoy loves!

Appetizers (Tags): Fluff / Smut (a lil' angst at beginning but soft!angst)

Entres (Pairing): Bucky Barnes x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 23: “I have to protect the one thing that I can’t live without. That’s you.”

Notes: Takes place after Bucky gets injured protecting reader, requested by @hellotvshowtrash (god I hope you like this because the sheer amount of times I giggled like a little girl while writing this needs to be worth something)

THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!!

Word Count: 3k (what is actually wrong with you Dizzy these are supposed to be drabbles)

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

“Buck—” She whimpers, her fingers brushing around the angry red gash on his chest, hand shaking. “What were you thinking?”

Bucky’s skin is hot to the touch, more furnace than man, chest slightly damp from the serum working his body in overdrive. A few tears slip down her cheeks, cold in comparison to the man below her. It’s her fault that he’s injured. He jumped in front of a bullet for her. If she had just been paying attention then it would have never happened. Of course she hadn’t been paying attention. She had heard a scream and turned away for one second— just one— and the next thing she knew there was a bang and—

“I had to do it, doll.” His voice is tired, his blue eyes a little duller than normal, but beyond that there are no noticeable differences— he still stares up at her with that half grin, half worried pout that he always does.

His hands flex on her hips, pulling her body further up his own until her thighs are pushing around his hips, knees sinking further into the mattress. She plants her hands on his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin, afraid that if she lets go then he might disappear. Who’s to say this isn’t all a dream— that he isn’t still laying on the street with a bullet lodged in his chest?

She shakes her head, dropping her eyes back to the healing wound. “You’re hurt— because of me.”

His fingers tense. She can feel his jaw slouching, leaning down and scratching her cheek with his stubble, no doubt trying to find her eyes again. Any other day she would give in, wanting to stare into his eyes just as much as he does. But today isn’t any other day. Today is today and she can’t look at him— not without feeling the guilt crash over her. When did she become so irresponsible?

“I’m fine, doll.” His lips press against her temple and she flinches like she was the one hit with the bullet and not him.

She swallows thickly, curling her hands into balls but leaving them on his shoulders. He smells like the hospital still— like alcohol swabs and the burnt metal tinge that seems to always accompany sterile buildings— and she can barely find the lingering traces of his pine tree musk. Her chest jolts, the sob getting caught in her throat, more tears racing down her face. They don’t phase her at this point— she’s more water than woman right now. The flame and the sea— right now she feels too destructive. Like he’s going to flicker out and that it’ll really be all her fault.

Her throat is raw when she finally answers him, her voice too dense. “You could have been killed.”

His hand— his flesh one— leaves her hip, curling gently around her chin. He doesn’t push her face up yet— he’s still giving her the option to look at him on her own— but she knows it won’t last long. Soon he’ll break and she’ll be forced to meet his stare. She’s never dreaded looking at Bucky so much.

“But you would have been. You hear me? You would have died. The chances—”

“Bucky—” she tries to protest but his hand only tightens.

“The chances—” he continues anyway, not giving her room to talk over him— her time’s running out— “were more in my favor than yours. That’s all there is to it, doll.”

She can feel the final barriers of his patience waning, his grip starting to push on her jaw as his voice takes on a grittier tone. It’s not anger. She’s heard him angry and this is nothing close. This is desperate. This is worse. She can feel him breaking and she can’t take it— can’t take the feeling of him tugging her even closer.

She can’t take it so she breaks first.

“I was careless and you got hurt. That’s all there is to it.” She mutters, her gaze snapping to meet the hard crystal eyes of the man she loves.

Bucky shakes his head, his brown hair falling slightly in front of his concerned eyes. She doesn’t move to fix it like she normally would. Something about touching his face right now feels wrong— feels blasphemous. She’s not allowed to touch him; she hurt him. Her eyebrows crease, lips pressing together. Just looking at him hurts. Probably nowhere near as bad as his skin feels as it fuses back together.

His other hand moves from her hip, the now warmed up metal curling behind her ear. She watches as he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing jaggedly. His stomach is pressed against hers now, his heat burning holes through her thin t-shirt. She can feel every inhale he takes— she can feel how his breaths become closer together.

“No baby—” he pulls her face closer to his and it is only then— when her shoulders bump into his— that she realizes she’s sobbing— “no you were looking out for your teammates. You always look out for us. For me. It was a split second decision and I would do it again.”

Now that the dam has broken she can’t stop the flood, ripping her hands from his shoulders and squeezing her palms against her eyes. Her hands don’t stop the tears— that was never her intention. It’s more so she won’t have to look at his eyes as they begin to glass over. Bucky doesn’t cry often but when he does it always hits her square in the chest. Kind of like how the bullet—

“Why? Why did you do it?” She chokes out as his hands slip around her wrists, thumbs rubbing over her pulse points, drawing her hands away so gently that another round of sobs threatens to unleash.

He’s always so damn gentle with her.

“Baby come here.” The soldier murmurs, voice hoarse, leaning down to press his forehead against hers. “Please. C’mere, doll. It’s okay— It’s all okay.”

He guides her hands to his face until her palms rub over his stubble, locking his fingers with hers and squeezing. His lips find her cheek, skimming over the salty tracks left from her tears, finding her ear and pressing a kiss to her temple. She breathes in and, through the alcohol, can finally make out the notes of earthy musk. It makes her shudder and he presses his lips against her harder.

“I did it because I had to.” He whispers against her skin, words hot and slow. “The other option was watching my girl get shot—” she flinches again and he kneads her hands— “I have to protect the one thing that I can’t live without. That’s you.”

It shouldn’t hurt to hear that. It shouldn’t hurt to hear that he loves her more than anything else— especially because she feels the same way. It shouldn’t but it does. It rips through her ears, slicing down her throat, stabbing at her gut, before finally settling between her thighs— this stinging, aching emptiness. She sniffles, finally curling her fingers around his jaw without his help, scratching through the hair on his jaw. It zaps electricity through her fingers— air into her lungs.

“Buck—” she can’t finish her thought— both because it was never really there to begin with and because his lips crash onto hers, swallowing her words faster than they can come.

He kisses her hard— hungrily— his hands reclaiming their place on her hips as his tongue pushes against the seam of her lips. He still tastes like himself— like plum cobbler and diet coke— and she opens her mouth to him instantly, desperate for more. The first brush of his tongue against hers sends a wave of shocks rushing down her spine, pooling in her core. She doesn’t realize how exposed she is until his hips are pushing up, nothing but his sweatpants and her boy-shorts separating them.

He squeezes, thumbs brushing under her shirt and rubbing hard circles against her hip bones. The contrast— flesh versus metal— is enough to have her head falling back, thighs caging him tighter between her. It takes no time for his mouth to fall to her throat, sucking her skin into his mouth and biting down. It stings in a new way— the bruise like payback. Sweet, sweet payback. The first moan slips past her lips and he groans against her skin in return.

Bucky grinds up against her, using his hands to keep her hips smothered against his, rocking ever so slightly to brush his hardness against her. His movements are jagged, no doubt skewed from his injury, but nonetheless they send little bolts of pleasure zapping down her legs. When he does it again— this time a little harder— she arches her stomach against his, toes curling around thin air the same way her core clenches around the emptiness. Her fingers fly to his hair, threading through the damp strands and tugging a little harder than she intends to.

When he hisses some of her common sense comes back to her— not enough to get her to stop rocking against him— to stop chasing those tiny sparks of everything— but enough to make her ease up a touch.

“Bucky you’re—” he pushes her against his length with more force and she loses herself to the moan that tears through her lungs, the friction like magic— “Buck you’re hurt we can’t.”

“I don’t care, doll.” He mumbles, trailing open mouthed kisses down her neck, yanking the collar of her shirt to the side to latch his lips onto her throat. “Need you now— right now.”

She wants to argue further— he’s already hurt, whether or not because of her, and she doesn’t want to make it worse. They’re on the tip of her tongue; all the words she should say. You need rest. The doctor said to take it easy. Bullet wounds and sex usually don’t go together. She goes to open her mouth— to at least try— but when her lips part all that comes out is a string of nothingness, a metal digit sliding her panties to the side and plunging inside her before she can even try. When she peeks down at him, pulling her neck from its position on her shoulder, she meets his glinting blue eyes. The cheeky bastard.

She clenches around him right away, the slight thrum of the current in his fingers enough to have her moaning his name. It’s all the encouragement he needs to add another. She’s sure that if he were to keep his fingers there long enough the vibrations would be enough to have her climaxing around them. Of course that’s not his style— not right now at least. She can feel the tension in his movements as he twists the digits inside her, curling them as his thumb presses against her clit. He rubs it in a steady— if not semi-sloppy circle. She doesn’t care— the pressure and vibrations in combination with the rhythm of his fingers pumping in and out of her has her seeing stars.

He leans down, nose brushing along her cheek, voice soft and needy. “C’mon baby, I can feel you already— I know you wanna’ let go. Are you gonna’ let go for me?”

His voice is too soft— still much too slow— and it makes her feel like she’s floating, the pressure in the pit of her stomach. That might just be his fingers though, now kneading that spot inside her that has her pulling on his hair again, this time to keep her from falling off his lap as she bucks her hips against his fingers. She’s so close she can taste it— the metal inside her now sharp against her tongue. It’s intoxicating— it’s harsh— and it hits her like a truck how badly she doesn’t want to come around anything but his cock.

“More, Bucky— I want more. Now. Please, baby, now.” She whines, desperate to hang on despite the sweet torture she’s facing at the literal hands of the man she loves.

That’s all it takes for him to hook his arm around her hips, pulling his fingers from her core and holding her above him as he frees his length with his other hand. She drops her hands to his shoulders, the pressure of her pending orgasm beginning to wane until his skin— bare and hot and hard— brushes against hers and she’s gasping for air— for more. She can hear him chuckle through his own, needy huffs, repeating the motion against her throbbing clit. She can taste the metal again— that’s how addicted she is to this man. All it takes is a few measly touches and she’s putty in his hands. So much so that she almost reaches between them and lines him up for them.

“Bucky please— please, please, please— I need you. I need—”

It happens so quickly— her eyelids flashing with white, tongue flooding with the taste of plum cobbler, diet coke, and her body spasming with the orgasm that is no longer just waning as he enters her with one acute thrust of his hips. He doesn’t give her a moment to adjust— she doesn't need one, core clenching around him as he pulls out of her and repeats the jarring motion— and it’s all she can do to dig her fingers into his skin and cling to him for dear life.

“Fuck baby—” he purrs, chest rumbling against hers as he uses his arm to continue rolling her hips through the unrelenting pleasure crashing over her— “you’re perfect— so damn perfect.” His head falls on her shoulder, lips brushing over her bruised skin feverishly. “Think you can do that again for me?”

His words spur something in her— a new, hotter fire than the one circulating through her veins. A need. Despite the way her thighs feel like literal jelly, just barely holding her on top of him she’s suddenly determined to give him whatever he asks. Before she can process her own actions she’s pressing on his chest, carefully avoiding the now almost healed wound, until his back is flat against the pillows, his eyes more black than blue and wider than she’s ever seen them.

“Doll—” She rolls her hips, hissing at the feeling of her still sensitive clit pressing into the hard plains of his abdomen, and his words die into a throaty moan that she swears she can feel in her own chest.

“Let me do it.” Her voice is breathy, the air in her lungs almost entirely gone, but the sight of the man— her man— under her makes her wonder if she ever needed air to begin with.

Surely he’s more than enough for her.

She does it again, rising off of him slightly before sinking back around him, gaze glued to his half-lidded eyes. His mouth is open but no real words come out only curses that, upon leaving his lips, turn into something so much more sinfully incoherent. They’re gasoline to the fire— fuel to the bucking of her hips. When her clit brushes him again it feels less like a shock to her system and more like everything she’s ever wanted coming to fruition.

That familiar pressure begins building again— faster and much too quickly for the slow pace she had been trying to set— and she can feel him start to buck up against her. His impatience is like a drug, one that warps her already hazy mind and urges her to roll her hips quicker, grinding down on him harder. His arm is still hooked around her back, something she only remembers when he tightens, holding her against his chest as he drives up into her, cock brushing the same spot his fingers had.

“Bucky—” she sighs, starting to fumble, losing herself in the weightless feeling creeping over her limbs— “I need— need— fuck!”

She can’t put it into words— she can’t think of a way to tell him that she feels like she’s going to float away— but he understands anyway. He always understands her. In a split second her back is being pushed into the soft mattress, her head pressed into the pillow that is now soaked in his earthy musk. He does it so fluidly that he never disconnects from her, his drilling pace never slowing. His arm lands next to her head and she wraps her hand around his bicep, nails digging into his skin and drawing one more of those gasoline-meet-fire moans.

“C’mon doll—” Bucky’s hand slips between their tangled bodies, vibranium tracing down her stomach before sliding over her aching sex, pressing down harshly. “Gonna’ gimme’ one more, yeah? Gonna’ cum for me again?”

She can’t speak at all this time, only loosely nod and gasp as the pleasure rakes across her limbs. Her eyes flutter shut, unable to do anything more than squeeze her thighs around him, mouth open and mewling as his strokes get slopier, bringing him closer to his own edge right alongside her. The circling of his finger— the thrumming of the metal coming alive— and the messy jutting of his hips is enough to have her falling in seconds, bones nothing but water, limp and liquid as she folds under him. Her second orgasm, unlike her first, is cool. She doesn’t taste metal, she tastes earth and pine trees and life.

Her eyelids feel heavy— deliciously so— but still she peels them open against her orgasm to watch Bucky’s last jagged thrusts and the way he stills, hands and stomach and face clenching as he finds his own release inside her. For a moment he hovers over her, lost in what she can only assume is the same, cloudlike feeling that’s clinging to her, before collapsing on top of her, head pressing into her sweaty chest. His hands find their way under her body, palms slipping up her spine until his fingers curl around her shoulder blades, hugging her to him as his lips press against her skin. She giggles— higher than ever on dopamine and him— fingers brushing through his hair, pulling the damp strands from his forehead like she had wanted to before.

He was right— all is okay.

That’s how they stay for a while, wrapped in each other and easing off the post climax rush until Bucky’s low words breach the silent, foggy bubble.

“Maybe—” he pants, finger skimming the column of her neck— “maybe I should get shot more often. You know, if that’s the— the reward.”

“Don’t you dare.”

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #mcu #mcu fic #marvel cinematic universe #Dinner at Dizzy's

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myblueeyedbuggers · 4 years ago

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My Boys

Chapter 12

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2420

Warnings: Slight bit of swearing

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Eyup My loves! Soo How’s your week been? Good I hope, so a bit of news for you all, there’s only two/three more chapters left till this book is finished and then we’ll be moving onto (Drum roll) The First Avenger! Woooo! I hope you’re all as excited as I am. Anyways without anymore rambling, I give you chapter 12, enjoy!

So I can safely say that the rest of the week passed pretty quickly, with only a few ‘minor’ incidents, one of em being a massive food fight caused by yours truly and Steve getting himself stuck in the basement for 2 hours after seeing, and I quote ‘a possessed girl dressed as undead batman’.

I still haven’t told him that was me….oops

Apart from that it was pretty normal, cut to today where I’ve been blessed with the task of lookin’ after my best girl for Buck’s parents anniversary whilst they go into the city to celebrate, I mean it’s the least I could do for em. Plus, the last time the lads were trusted with lookin’ after Becca, Buck’s parents came home to the entire house covered in flour with Becca laughin’ at em cause they managed to lock themselves in a cupboard. We had to call the fire department to get em outta there.

Anyways, we kicked the boys outta the house so Becca and I could have a girls day in, now don’t get me wrong I absolutely adore this girl and I would practically do anything for her.

“Y/n can we play princesses please?! Mama got some dresses from our cousin we can wear!”

I can literally feel my soul burning right now. I honestly tried to say no, there’s nothing more I hate more that being forced into them things but one look into her bright little eyes made all my resistance die away and so I uttered the words that sealed my doom. “Of course, Becs only if we can have a tea party in em”. So here we are, me in a navy style party dress, lace covered my arms and the hem of the sweetheart neckline resting just on my collarbone, the knee length satin skirt covered my legs.

Honestly, I wasn’t as bad I thought it were gonna be, I even let my hair outta the classic ponytail it’s always in so Becca could style it a tiny bit, to her credit she did a decent job. My h/c locks fell in small waves across my back, with the longer strands near my face tucked behind my ears and Becs even convinced me to pop on some of her mama’s makeup. Now I ain’t a fool, I know makeup’s pretty expensive and only let her pop on a shimmery light gold eyeshadow and some tinted lip balm, much to her disappointment I confiscated the mascara, I refused to let that death stick near my eyeballs.

Becca looked absolutely adorable, we’d managed to find her dance dress from last year and it suited her down to the ground. Baby pink lace covered her arms up to her wrist, the middle part had little gems dotted here and there with a pink satin ribbon separating the skirt from the top, from the looks of it the skirt was made outta some layered netting that poofed outwards when she span around. Don’t ask me how but I managed to wrap some ribbons in her braids and added a lil tiara on the top of her head and if you’d asked me, she looked like a real-life princess to me.

“So, your highness, what would one prefer to do? Would one like to have tea in the parlour or waltz in the ballroom?” my attempt at the British accent was apparently appalling, judging by the level of giggles coming outs Becca’s mouth. Eventually she calmed down enough to give me an answer “I think a waltz would be most fun lady y/n” she said in an equally bad accent. Slowly a smile spread across my face as I moved over to the record payer, I didn’t even pay attention to which one I put on before I turned back to Becca and offered her my hand, lowering myself into a bow that looked like a squid tryin’ to tap dance. Very elegant I know.

You’d think after the past few weeks I’d been with the Barnes family, I’da got used to being tackled by the siblings, but alas I am surprised every-time, hence why I’m on the floor with a hyperactive 4 year old sat on top of me. Becca’s giggles filled the entire room, she quickly got off me and started jumping around to the sound of the jumpin’ jive and leaving me to slowly die on the floor, for all of 5 seconds before she yanked my arm outta my socket to get me dancing with her. I swear this girl isn’t even human, one second she’s sweet and delicate the next she’s bulldozing people to the ground and pullin’ em to the next life, I mean she’s 4 she shouldn’t be that strong!

Thank the lord she’s adorable. Quickly the music took over my mind, my feet moving along to the music, Becca was doin’ some twirls around me with the biggest smile on her face, I don’t know what made me do it but I grabbed her gently by the waist and spun us around in time to the music, her little arms reached into the air as we both laughed our heads off. Of course, me being me, I lost my balance and my butt suddenly met the sofa, with Becca landing next to me with a small yelp, it was quiet for all of 2 seconds before we burst out laughin’. Think it took us about 3 minutes before we calmed down, a comfortable silence fell between us, the music slowly faded to a stop as the record reached its end, and we stayed like this for a while before Becca broke the silence.

“Y/n, can you sing like mama? She don’t do it often cause it reminds her of my nana….” My eyes drifted over to Becs, her lil eyes dulled a little when she said it and now they were filled with a small glimmer of hope, and I really didn’t wanna be the reason for that light goin’ out. If I were being completely honest singin’ wasn’t something I ever wanted to do again, during my time with the Црни лабуд, singing was the only thing that made me feel like….well me I guess. It was the only sliver of light in so many years of darkness and once I was free from them I made myself a silent vow that I’d never do it again, that I was a new person. But one look in her little eyes was enough to make me break it. “I ain’t too bad, only know a couple of songs on the piano but I can try if you wanna”

Apparently Becca didn’t need to be told twice, in a flash of pink she was off to the other room, bellowing for me to follow her, I mean it ain’t like I gotta choice in the matter is it ? the sound of something hitting the floor in the room opposite me made me move even quicker (if that were even possible). Becca was stood in front of a oldish looking piano, a small bench was tuned over in front of her, and a white sheet was discarded on the floor next to her as she bounced up and down excitedly, I couldn’t help the smile on my face as I turned the bench over on it’s feet. Not even 2 seconds later Becca clambered up on it and looked at me with a bright smile, I swear she gets cuter every second like how does this happen ? I try it and I end up put away in a mental asylum.

“You got any requests princess ?” my legs carried me across the room and towards the seat, cracking my knuckles together and stretching out my fingers before turning to look at the younger lass, a look of concentration covered her face in response and it took her a few seconds to answer. “Dream a little dream of me ? think that’s what mama calls it” I swear I tried to stop the soft smile, but I really couldn’t help it this time. “sure sweetheart” and with that I hit the opening notes, the feeling of the keys under my fingertips were so familiar it was like no time had passed since I last played, I kept my voice soft and quiet as I sang. I think I was halfway through my second verse when I felt Becca cuddle into my side, she ducked her head under my arm and put her head in my lap, a soft yawn left her mouth as her eyes started to close to the sound of the music. It was at the end of the song that I looked at her again, soft snores escaped her mouth and her hand was grasping gently at the top of my skirt, I felt my heart melt even more that I thought possible, completely unaware of the small audience I’d gathered until a small cough came from behind me.

Aw shit…..

Bucky’s POV

If you’d told me a year ago, that after spending a couple of hours at Coney island with my best mate I’d come home to what must be an angels voice singing my sister to sleep. I’da never of believed ya, think you coulda imagined our confusion when me and Steve heard piano coming from the dining room. Steve shot me a look of pure bewilderment, and I couldn’t blame the guy to be honest, “thought you’d said your mama gave up piano couple a years ago”. I’m guessing my face mirrored his, cause I ain’t the slightest clue either, mama stopped playin’ years ago so who the heck could it be? “yeah she did bud, swore she’d never set her hands on it again…..”. I’m completely and utterly baffled at this point, where’s Y/n when ya need her ? she’d figure this out.

We both took a step towards the closed door, eager to know what the hell was going on when something stopped me, the sweetest sound I’d ever heard in my life sang along with the melody, I coulda sworn it sounded like the lullaby mama sang to us when we were kids. I guess I spent too long listening cause Stevie boy pushed past me and walked in, the sounds were so much clearer and more vibrant it felt like I’d died and gone to heaven right then and there. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I realised just who was creating this beautiful sound, there she was, sat in front of the piano as her fingers danced gracefully across the keys. Her voice, oh god her voice sounded like that of an angel, the weak afternoon sun shone over her hair and made her look even more angelic than humanly possible. I barely even noticed Becca asleep in her lap before Y/n finished her song and the ever-living pain in my ass decided to reveal that we were there. I mean he coulda chosen any other way of revealing our presence but no he had to let out the tiniest little cough, coulda got her back for the eyebrow incident….

Y/n literally went stiff as a board before she turned to look at us, her cheeks were red as a rose and a sheepish smile covered her face, it was only a couple of seconds after that both Steve and I noticed what she was wearing, he burst out laughin at her but me, I for once in my life couldn’t say a damn thing. She looked absolutely breath taking, her hair fell down in soft waves and framed her face, the shade of blue in her dress brought out the small flecks of green in her e/c eyes and brought out her hourglass figure. Her lips were drawn into a natural pout and it was that second it dawned on me she asked me somethin’….shit.

“whaaaa…….” Nice one Bucky.

Steve, the lil punk, could barely stop himself laughin’, at some point he’d moved to take Becca off Y/n and stood behind y/n with his fist in his mouth to smother his laughter. My best friend ladies and gentlemen. If looks could kill he’d be 10 feet under right now.

“Buck ? I was askin’ if you were okay ?” Y/n’s face showed a tiny bit of confusion and much to my horror amusement, “YeAh I’m okay….” And just at the moment puberty strikes in the form of a voice crack, as if this weren’t embarrassing enough. At this point Steve was barely keeping it together, he had actual tears coming outta his eyes and went bright red in the face tryin’ to stop himsen laughing, in front of me y/n furrowed her eyebrows and did look genuinely concerned for my mental state. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just looked at me before she lifted her hand to my forehead and held it here for a minute, thank god Steve chose to leave the room before this or I’da never heard the end of it.

“You sure you’re okay, feelin’ a bit warm and ya actin weirder than usual Buck” okay quick say something before this gets even more embarrassing, first thing that pops into ya head in 3,2,1…

“Yeah I’m sure, think I ate somethin’ funky down at the pier, makin’ me real gassy”……why am I like this? Normally I can charm any girl of their feet but with y/n, I’ma bumbling mess. She didn’t say a damn word, she just raised her eyebrows whilst a small smirk covered her face, before she turned and left me to have a very small breakdown underneath the dining table.

Meaning I let out a noise that sounded like a bear stubbing it’s toe in the middle of winter.

I thought my luck couldn’t get any worse, but nooo old lady luck decided today I needed a second helping, cause the second I did that Y/n walked back into the room. Brilliant. I was too busy stumbling over my words to processes what she was doin’, before I knew it she’d walked back to me and stood on her tip toes….then planted a small kiss on my cheek.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered Barnes”

And just like that, she left me with my jaw on the ground and heart beatin’ outta my chest, cause I’m starting to think that she was right. I’m sure as hell coming down with something, and I’m pretty sure it ain’t a regular ol’ bug…..

SOOO, if you got this far hope you enjoyed it, as always any feed back or constructive criticism is welcome, thank so much for reading and hope you have a great day/night/week.

lots of love

Rose xxx

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america x reader #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #fanfic #reader #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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woozisnoots · 4 years ago

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in my heart | choi seungcheol

° pairing: there technically is no pairing but it is reader insert! ° genre: fluff, slight angst, parent!au ° summary: it’s their first time coming back to disneyland and seungcheol wants to make it worth it for his favorite girl. ° word count: 979 ° warning: none! ° a/n: first installment of krys and i’s collab! so sorry this is a lil late, schoolwork has the upper hand right now but i promise to stay on top of things for future updates once my schedule loosens up!

seventeen stars to the right!

masterlist!

dear princess,

you know how bad i am with starting letters. even though i’ve written hundreds of thoughts of letters by now. i know i’m not exactly the master of love letters like alexander hamilton was... or at least he was in the musical. i haven’t written to you in a while and i hope you can forgive me for that. but i wanted to write this to document a special day that reminded me of you.

“But daddy, I don’t wanna go. I’m too tired,” with her eyebrows furrowed, the little girl snuggled deeper into Seungcheol’s arms, burying her face into his chest — avoiding the sun getting in her eyes. “Where are we even going?”

The vibration of her words tickles the surface of Seungcheol’s shirt causing him to giggle. Any other day, Seungcheol would have refuted back, giving a snarky reply. But today, his plan to replace that torment into magic was in full effect. He securely wraps one his arm around her hips as he checks to make sure her legs were strapped tightly around him, holding her up.

“You’ll see baby, just wait. I think you’ll like it.”

i still remember all the letters you used to write me. even when we were little kids. i bet you didn’t know i kept every single one of them since then. but now every other one has doodles of cities with buildings and skyscrapers. on occasion, simple math problems that, you probably already know, i couldn’t solve. who knew little kids had so much to going on these days?

“Are they gonna put makeup on me?” The girl’s little voice barely audible over the hustle and bustle of the other children aggressively bouncing up and down their high chair. “Makeup makes my face itchy,” she whines as her lips perk into a pout.

Seungcheol reaches out to gently rub the side of her face, untouched, just before one of the helpers could set aside their supplies on a nearby table. “I don’t know,” he says, the right side of his lips curling upwards. “You tell me, does Belle usually wear a lot of makeup?” Moving his hand down her side, he fiddles with the sheer, sparkly ruffles of her dress as the makeup artist displays five different types of lip products in front his daughter.

Never in his entire life did Seungcheol imagine himself at a Disneyland salon, yet here he was.

“Which color would you like sweetheart?” the lady asked sweetly, crouching down so she can see.

Seungcheol pays no attention and continues to watch his daughter’s face demonstrating nothing but upmost concentration. His other hand covering his mouth in attempt conceal his laughter.

“This one,” she chooses with a glimmer in her eyes.

The tiny gush of wind the helper’s hop to stand back up causing Seungcheol to snap back into reality. “Such a pretty color for a very pretty princess!” But before he even had the chance to ask, he feels small fingers interlace with his.

“Mommy always looked good with pink lip gloss.”

you know, there’s never a day where i don’t regret not giving her what she always wanted. this is possibly the closest as it’ll ever get now that you’re not with us. i think she hopes that things could be different, regardless of how little she actually knows.

“Daddy, you’re crying.”

Seungcheol didn’t even notice the single tear that graced his face the moment he picked up his little girl, the same way they were when they walked in. At of all the things she would have noticed: the balloons, the mouse shaped ice creams, the lights, the 77 foot castle from behind. It amazes him how easy it was for his own daughter to notice such small trivial things.

“No sweetie,” Seungcheol wipes the tear, squinting to make sure no water droplets remained. “A sun drop just fell from sky, didn’t you see?” He glimpse up to the sky to try and avert her attention, but stops in his tracks when he feels her hand touch his once again. Her palm warm against his, soothing away the tears that were about to form again.

“It’s okay to be sad,” she whispers so only he could hear. The gentle rubs across his hand. “Hey daddy,” with the sound of her voice, Seungcheol gains back his posture, moving aside to let people pass and not cause traffic. “Can you tell me more about her?”

Physically. The curvature of her face, the shape of her nose, the exact shade of her eyes were uncanny. Even the way she would pronounce certain words, the way she would knew exactly what he was thinking before he said it, how incredibly smart she was for her age. It all reminded him of you. “You’re exactly like her.” Seungcheol’s whimsical expression shining brightly with the wide smile that now sits on his face.

The little girl crinkles her nose, looking unamused. “Then what did I get from you?”

Her snapping remark makes Seungcheol laugh. “Why, my strikingly charismatic personality of course, what else!” With the cute expression on her face, he couldn’t help but take her by the arms and swing her overhead so she could sit on top of his shoulders, now getting a better view of the people and places that were scattered around the park. Enjoying every second they can between the just the two of them.

i can tell that she has so much she wants to say to you. so many things she’d rather do with you than with me. and believe me, sometimes i wish the same thing. but if she grows up to be more and more like you, just like how she already is, she’ll have a mind greater than belle and a heart purer than gold.

you’re always in my heart —our hearts,

your prince charming

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gamerwoo · 4 years ago

Text

[The Pack Next Door] Mingi: Friends with Benefits (Part One)

(photo edit courtesy of @songmingki)

Characters: Mingi x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fwb au, friends to lovers au, fluff, a lil bit of angst but it’s so tiny it’s fine

Word count: 1,774

Summary: Growing up, you and Mingi were inseparable. You’d been friends your entire life and, as far as you knew, things were never any different. But what you don’t know is that Mingi imprinted on you when he was 15 and first turned into a werewolf, and he had been trying to keep it a secret ever since. And with the awful timing of mating season, he’s hoping he can somehow keep the facade up.

a/n: so reader is written to be taller and to be not straight soooooo yeah just a heads up lmao

Tags: @sakura-uji @xummie

Next | Friends with Benefits Masterlist

By far, Mingi was the first in his pack to imprint. Hell, he imprinted before he even found his pack. And he couldn’t tell if it was insanely good luck or absolutely shitty luck that his mate was right by his side the whole time.

You had known Mingi since you could remember. He lived across the street from you when you were both growing up, and you would often go outside to play with him. Your parents and his parents basically raised you together as friends, and you were inseparable ever since. You couldn’t even remember a time you didn’t know Mingi.

It was no surprise you grew up to be more of a ‘one of the boys’ type person. You tagged along with Mingi all throughout elementary school and most of middle school. His friends were your friends, and vice versa. Really, the only time you weren’t with him was when you both decided to go out for the soccer team, and you found out that there were separate teams for boys and girls -- you stuck with the sport while Mingi quit after one season because he was only put on the team because they needed the numbers.

It was middle school that your parents were betting you and Mingi would become sweethearts because it was around that time that kids started realizing that the other gender wasn’t so awful. People your age were bragging about holding hands and having their first kisses, and you were too busy kicking Mingi’s ass at soccer to really pay much attention to any of that. But Mingi was starting to get pressured by some of the guys he was friends with at the time because he was the only one of them who hadn’t kissed a girl yet.

“What?” you snorted when he told you. “That’s a dumb thing to be worried about.”

“Aren’t you?” he wondered, sitting in the grass beside you at the edge of the soccer field.

“No,” you shrugged. “Well...I mean, some of the girls have been being kinda mean lately and saying it’ll never happen.”

“Why?”

“I’m not girly.”

Mingi nodded. He already knew there were some girls who picked on you for being more masculine sometimes -- you didn’t get into makeup when everyone did, you didn’t dress in the same clothing that was considered ‘trendy’ or whatever, and you had more male friends than female friends. It was something he thought was stupid to get teased for, but both of you knew you couldn’t do much about it. You’d come to terms with the fact that means girls were just mean girls for no reason. Besides, what did you care what they thought?

Mingi stared at his knees as he thought. He was a little unsure of the idea that popped into his head, but he knew he could say anything to you and you wouldn’t think any differently of him.

“Well...” he began slowly, unable to look at you because of the blush that was suddenly rushing to his cheeks, “we could always...kiss each other...?”

You whipped your head around to look at him, “What?”

“What?” he asked defensively, squinting against the sun to finally look at you. “It was just a suggestion!”

You shoved at his leg before pushing yourself to get up from the grass, “You’re my best friend, though. That would be weird.”

“Yeah, but people would leave us alone.”

“But you also told Jaehyun before that you’d rather lick the bathroom floor than kiss me.”

“Yeah, but people would leave us alone.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, “Look, if your friends are bothering you that much, why don’t you ask Kim Naeun to kiss you? She has a crush on you.”

That definitely got him to brighten up, “She does?!”

But of course, it didn’t last. And neither did the teasing. By the time you were in high school, you had changed a little, those around you had grown up a lot, and feelings had changed -- specifically when Mingi turned 15.

You were still into soccer and you were still a tomboy, but you had also decided you liked wearing eyeliner. You typically dressed in ripped jeans and beanies, but you now wore those clothes to fit your body better rather than choosing the baggiest clothing you could find. And at first, Mingi thought maybe that was the reason he was slowly starting to see you in a different light. And maybe that was it at first. But while things were a little different for you, they were really different for him.

It was some random day freshman year that Mingi shifted. The problem was that his pack was nowhere near close to finding him, and Mingi was also somewhat of an ‘early bloomer’ since most werewolves didn’t first shift until they were 16. So Mingi was left to his own devices to figure out how to calm himself down enough to shift back, and then get some answers.

He was missing for four days. Search parties were out looking for him, you were spamming his phone and every form of social media he had, and his parents across the street had never been so distressed. It was the first time ever that you didn’t have Mingi by your side, and truthfully, you were lost.

But then you got a call that he was back, and you told his parents you’d be right there. You ditched school and ran all the way to his house, knocking on the door and practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you waited for someone to open the door.

And there was Mingi.

As soon as his eyes landed on you, he felt the imprinting pull hit him like a truck. He’d never felt anything more than platonically for you -- well, other than the fact he might’ve been physically attracted to you before everything happened -- so the fact he suddenly felt this overwhelming romantic love for you was almost scary to him. It was like the world stopped and he gained tunnel vision where he only saw you. He wasn’t sure what it was, either, but he assumed it had something to do with whatever the hell was happening to him.

What he didn’t know was that you felt it, too. You just felt it at a smaller scale than he did. And maybe that was why tears welled in your eyes when you looked at him, because you were hit with how much you loved and cared for him, and you threw your arms around him and yelled at him to never scare you like that again.

And as he hesitantly and shakily put his arms around you, he mumbled, “I promise.”

Of course, Mingi did manage to find out he was a werewolf thanks to the internet. The websites he found seemed to be run by crazy people, only for him to realize that everything they said was true for him, at least. So when he read what imprinting was and what it meant, he realized that meant you were his soulmate; you were the person he was destined to spend the rest of his life with. And that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, there was just one teeny tiny issue...

You had a girlfriend now.

The summer between eighth grade and freshman year, you were a little confused about your sexuality and decided to explore some things. Ultimately, at the beginning of freshman year, you began dating a girl named Song Daehee who even Mingi got along really well with. So he couldn’t even be mad at your girlfriend for the situation because he liked her. The only thing he could be mad at was fate. But he knew you were meant to be with him, so he knew if he waited, you would come to him. So he waited.

And waited.

By the time you and Daehee broke up, you were already in college and he had found his pack -- who he introduced to you as his new friends from college, and you thought they were hilarious. And during that time that he was waiting, he had’t even told you what he really was. He never explained what happened when he ran away when he was fifteen, and he told his pack they couldn’t tell you anything, either.

“But she’s your best friend,” San had stated when Mingi first told them -- despite not being the youngest, he was the last to be added to the pack. “Why wouldn’t you want to tell her?”

“Do you tell all of your friends?” he quipped.

“But she’s your mate,” Seonghwa pointed out.

Honestly, at this point, it seemed too late to tell you. It had been so long since he ran away before that he wasn’t sure when or how to tell you now. He’d known for so long, so wouldn’t you be mad that he never told you? Not only that, but would you think any less of him? He was never afraid to say anything to you, but now he was so unsure of everything. He was some mythical monster now.

That fear hung onto him all the way up until now. The two of you were still friends, he was still tall, and while you didn’t play soccer for school anymore, it was something the two of you still often did in his backyard despite the fact he never got any better than he did in sixth grade. You were taller, you still never wore skirts or dresses, and you had perfected your eyeliner technique but didn’t really wear any more makeup than you used to.

And still, from that day he came home when he was 15, Mingi seemed to fall more and more in love with you. He loved how you always wore backwards baseball caps, and how you still made strange decisions without completely thinking them through -- like when you shaved half your head before high school graduation, or when you got your tongue pierced just to take the piercing out a week later because it gave you a lisp. He loved how you had slowly found yourself and he had gotten to see all of it ever since you two were kids. He loved how you were unapologetically yourself, and he loved that he had you as his best friend even if sometimes that hurt him.

What he didn’t really love, though, was that after all these years of loving you, you were still oblivious to everything.

So some things had changed, but most things hadn’t.

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