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chang-bunnie-bini-bop · 11 months ago

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hiraeth • seo changbin [part two]

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✰ pairing - roommate!changbin x fem!reader

✰ warnings - reader passes out, very smalll angst, slightly suggestive [?]

✰ word count - 2.1k

✰ notes - what do you think he's hiding??? ALSO im so sorry i left you all hanging...i promise ill update frequently...'kay?

✰ tags - @hyunjinslittlestar @dunno-wut-to-do

✰ sypnosis: changbin takes care of you after you manage to somehow make your condition worse. but he's hiding something.

hiraeth - the longing for a home that you cannot return to, or never was.

masterlist | requests open!

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“So, do you want to tell me what happened?” Your roommate asked hopefully, curious, obviously.

You decide to respond truthfully, mostly because he would probably see right through your lies.

“Not really.”

Changbin was just…that kind of person. Wise, but funny when he needed to be. He knew exactly what to say, when to say it, and how to say it.

He wasn’t the type of person to be afraid of his flaws, but to embrace them. This was a trait many people probably admired about him, but to you, it was the one thing that frustrated you most.

You wished you could be like that.

“Well,” He started, slapping his own thighs and getting up. “I’m just gonna-”

For some reason, a primal sort of instinct overwhelmed your mind immediately. You didn’t want him to leave.

You panicked and acted without thinking.

Your arms darted out and wrapped around his stomach, head resting on his back.

Changbin froze in his position, sagging slightly as your hand patted his tummy and attempted to pull him closer.

You were so embarrassed, there was no way you were going to lift your head, not after pulling him around like he was your teddy bear.

He turned around, holding your outstretched arms gently and folding them in your lap.

You averted your entire face down, hair falling in between your eyes and effectively masking your whole face.

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“Your hair is so thin. Its become so ugly after that haircut.” The mom scoffed, yanking at the girl’s hair as she brushed through it.

“Agh! Mom, careful! Also, I love the haircut. It makes me feel happy.” The girl talked back, earning an extra tough tug to the hair again.

“Well, useless girl. Clearly, you’re ugly on the inside and outside.” Her mom made sure to push her head as she stood up, brushing her clothes off.

“Now go to something useful, unlike your sister.” She spat.

The thirteen year old resisted the urge to roll your eyes spitefully, knowing that it was probably better to just…listen to her.

Maybe…she was just some useless girl.

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Yoe opened your eyes, and sunlight flooded your features aggressively.

You whined and put your hand in front of your face, effectively blocking the sunlight.

I probably fell asleep.

Getting up, you look around the unfamiliar setting.

Changbin was fast asleep beside you, putting cutely and hugging a Pokémon plush.

It wasn’t uncommon for both of you to fall asleep next to each other, considering your biggest fear was loud noises, and thunderstorms occur pretty frequently.

You had just…needed someone beside you.

Now you had him. He groaned a bit and shuffled, the sunlight hitting him directly in the face.

You almost had the urge to hug him again, but instead, you leaned down and pressed your lips to his cheek, thankful for the good nights rest.

He squirmed slightly and almost woke up, prompting you to jump out of bed quickly and walk into the shared bathroom, which smelled like men’s perfume.

The scent was so familiar you almost keeled over. It wasn’t strong, but it smelled sweet, like honeydew.

You brushed your teeth, turning on the shower. Feeling almost lightheaded, you pressed your hand to your forehead, and yup, you had a high fever.

You cranked up the temperature to the highest, needing to get your muscles loose after the tension of yesterday, your tantrum combined with your excessive workout.

You threw off Changbin’s shirt, squishing at your own belly and deciding to wear loose-fitting clothing, today was a bloated day for sure.

The shower you took felt like true luxury, a paradise in which you didn’t have to worry about your feelings, but rather yourself for once.

The steam fogged up the mirrors, but you didn’t care about how misty they would be later.

You stepped out and wrapped a towel around yourself, grabbing your huge t-shirt, puffy sweatpants and undergarments.

The light-headedness returned, and only after you finished putting your clothes in the hamper did you realize your own mistake.

Oh my goodness. I’m so stupid.

You had taken a boiling hot shower, with an extremely high fever.

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“Y/N-AH! I’m inviting some friends over for a while, is that okay?” Changbin yelled into the bathroom, rolling his eyes when you didn’t respond.

He felt the steam of your shower circling his feet from the crack in the door, and his eyes widened.

“YAH! Don’t use all the hot water! y/N!” He yelled, accentuating the last half of your name.

“Hey, are you okay?! Y/N!” He knocked aggressively on the door, worry flooding his voice at the lack of answers, jiggling the locked handle.

Then he heard a sickening thud.

“Y/N! Hey, what was that?! Are you OKAY?!” Changbin screeched, banging on the door.

His eyes widened in panic, and fright flooded his whole body. The door was locked.

The master key.

He ran to the kitchen and rummaged through the drawer, finding the key within a few seconds.

Changbin ran back to the bathroom door and shoved the key into the lock with shaking hands.

He managed to open the door slowly, covering his eyes in case…well, you know.

“Y/N…?” He opened one eye, steam flooding his features.

Your body was slumped over, the hamper of clothes knocked over and your hand resting on the pocket of one of his hoodies.

Changbin took a deep breath, the heat almost unbearable.

The older lifted your finished body over his shoulder while he pulled the hamper up again.

Changbin adjusted his tank top and carried you to his room yet again, mirroring the previous night.

He lightly tapped his hand on your cheek, attempting to wake your disgruntled body up.

“Y/N-ah. Wake up, love.” He shook you lightly, and that’s what woke you up, finally.

“C-changbin?” You stuttered, rubbing your eyes and gasping in pain as his hand pressed against your forehead.

“Did you really take a hot shower with a fever?”

You thought that he would gloat, laugh, make fun of you for being oh so stupid.

But his tone was one of concern, of worry.

For you.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, engulfing you in a blanket of warmth, which you definitely needed after the chill of of the room had overwhelmed your body.

Your small frame shuddered, and you sagged in his hold, temporarily unaware of yourself, of anything.

Numb. You felt numb.

Like you didn’t care if you were happy or sad.

Loud knocking tipped both of you out of your world, and Changbin grinned sheepishly at you as he motioned to himself.

He wasn’t wearing a proper shirt.

You rolled your watery eyes and walked to the door, hoping it wasn’t anyone important, considering your messed up state.

“Hi-Is Changbin there?” A man asked.

The first thing you noticed about him was that he was the epitome of perfect.

Everything about him looked well put together, and his smile even had dimples.

And then there was you, who was suddenly feeling very shy in front of him.

“Yeah, Chan! I’ll be there in a sec!” Changbin yelled from the other room.

You rolled your eyes. He was probably trying to find a good shirt that actually fit him and his muscles.

Chan smiled down at you, and your mind immediately soured. Pity.

But it didn’t seem like it.

“What’s your name? Are you his roommate? He’s told me a lot about you.” Chan asked with a slight Australian accent, laughing at the end shyly.

“Oh, my name is Y/N. Sorry, been having a rough week.” You responded, suddenly having the urge to shout ‘Aussie Aussie Aussie’ and see his reaction.

“Everyone has those every once in a while.” Chan tsked, and Changbin chose that moment to emerge from his room, clad in a comfy shirt and sweatpants to mirror your own.

Standing next to Chan, he suddenly looked way smaller, and you resisted the urge to coo at him.

“Okay, we’ll be in my room, 'kay? I’ve ordered a nice lunch for you, and there’s a hot water bottle on the counter.” Changbin pointed out.

Ever so thoughtful. You smiled at him for the first time in two days.

“What about you? Did you eat already?” You asked, wanting to make sure he wasn’t skipping as he normally did.

“Yup. I got Chan to confirm.” Binnie playfully slapped the man’s shoulder, and they both laughed while heading to his room.

“Oh, and Jisung’ll be over soon.” Changbin called out, and your mood considerably lifted.

Your best friend Jisung had already met Changbin, so he was a mutual friend along you two.

You decided to slump on the couch and watch a movie, popping some pain medication and waiting for your food.

When the doorbell rang, you bounced up from the couch and received the food, uttering a hushed thanks before shutting the door.

You only just realized how starving you were.

The package was ripped open and your mouth watered at the smell of the hot soup inside.

For once it was actually hot.

After gulping the soup down, which definitely helped your sore throat, you made a mental note to thank Changbin for all this.

The doorbell rang again, and you rushed to open it, almost knocking your toe onto the coffee table in the process.

This time, it was Jisung, who bounced over to wrap you in a ginormous hug.

Instead of pulling away like you normally did, you stayed in the hug for a while.

This is what you needed.

“Are you…okay, Y/N?” Jisung asked, and the question that you had waited so long for was finally voiced.

You could feel your eyes tearing up painfully, and you sniffled quietly, the comforting embrace of your best friend made everything so much better.

“Oh no…I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have asked that!” Jisung bent down till he was about your level before wiping your tears off, concern lacing his voice and worry painted on his face.

“N-No. Don’t feel sorry. I’m just so happy that someone finally asked me that.” You avert your eyes, not wanting to see the full force of your best friend’s worry.

“Oh, Y/Nnie…” Hannie wrapped you tightly in his embrace again, and this time, he picked you up and headed to the couch, turning on some random movie.

The day was full of cuddles and snacks, though you wondered what Chan and Changbin were doing the whole time.

“I’ll see Changbin for a sec, yeah?” Han stood up and walked to your roommate’s door.

You didn’t think too much about it, but then again, he had been seeing Chan and Changbin in that room quite often, hasn’t he?

You knew it wasn’t your place to snoop, but you couldn’t help but wonder, what was he doing in there?

Either way, you decided to cook some dinner, knowing that Changbin often liked to skip his dinner, which you certainly did not enjoy.

You brought up a plate to his room, knocking on the door softly.

Shuffling noises echoed through the area, and a very tired Binnie openned the door, however, his face lit up in happiness when he saw the food.

“Aweee, Y/N! Thank you!” He took the tray, which had three bowls on it, into the room.

Setting the tray down, he bounced back to the door to give you a quick, one-armed hug before running to the kitchen for some water.

You saw your chance.

“What have you been doing in there?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as he visibly panicked.

“Nothing. Just some work. College never waits!” He grinned awkwardly, and that’s when you knew he was lying.

“What is up with you, Chan and Jisung lately? Are you…” Your eyes widened, and so did his.

“What?! No, ew! It’s just something else…Y/N.” Binnie finishes oddly.

He sipped quickly at his water, bolting to his room again and shutting the door.

You sigh to yourself before heading to bed.

Maybe tomorrow would be better.

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masterlist | requests open!

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#binibop writes <3 #skz #skz fluff #stray kids #stray kids changbin #changbin x reader #changbin fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #changbin

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sapphire-heart-tippy · 7 hours ago

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Just something I kind of want to say, it's vague on purpose

So, a few weeks ago, I had one of the worst panic/PTSD episodes this year. It was so bad that I ended up dissociating and got violently ill as if I had the flu.

That was when I started having feelings for Kars, because wanting to be held and protected by somebody who's basically indestructible

I never explained what happened or how.

I know it sounds like a very small thing that shouldn't have triggered me to the point of having a week long panic attack and illness, but it did.

I'm not going to go into too much detail, but I was watching one of my favorite YouTubers play a new game. I was already having pretty weird mental health during that time too.

The game is very interesting, it's very scary and very well done

Unfortunately something in that game that happens to a character, happened to me in real life many many many years ago. I'm getting shaky thinking about it, but Kars and Esi are with me right now 🫂

Very vague incoming, it won't really make sense:

The only difference between the character and me is that I got "lucky". But I didn't know what was happening to me until I got older. I realized that if I didn't get "lucky" then... My life would've been much different than it is now.

What happened to that character kind of snapped something in my brain.

The YouTuber sounded very empathetic and it's not his fault at all for not putting trigger warnings.

I do not blame anyone at all for my episode.

But just know that I have this videogame blocked, every single tag I can think of. It makes me feel like I'm going to throw up.

What's funny is the gore and the horrific imagery didn't affect me. Something that happened to a single character sent me over the edge did.

I actually felt like I was going to die that's how bad the episode was

So if you see I'm not liking certain posts of yours involving a horror game, please do not take it personally.

I always avoid media involving that, but the fact that the exact same situation happened to me as that character, it destroyed my mental health in that moment.

I'm very sorry that I'm being sensitive and overreacting to something this small, I just wanted to let you all know that I'm not ignoring those posts because I dislike that character or you for posting about them, I'm avoiding it for my own mental health

Edit: my dash is flooded with " # (thing)" with almost every post haha, at least I'm not seeing what any of those posts say. Thank heavens for tag blocking is all I can say. I mean it, like I have to scroll so far to get to regular posts ^^"

#vague #tw vague #vague tw #cw panic attack #cw ptsd episode #cw dissociation #let me know if this needs any more tags

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technically-ghostly-collection · 1 year ago

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OKAY PART 3, I’m trying to narrow this down to 5 parts so this is going to be pretty long. Just 2 parts left. I have a LOT of story because I was writing uncontrollably for like… 2 weeks but I don’t want to drag this out. Either way, I’m hoping y’all enjoy and I was asked about a tag list on part 2 and I am so sorry… I have no idea how to do that. BUT YOUR SUPPORT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME SO THANK YOU.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Warnings: Depiction of depression and paranoia.

Word count: 10.8K

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It’s been about two months since you’ve left the apartment, you’ve been too paranoid to leave because you’re afraid of your stalker, after the window was fixed it’s been permanently locked and bolted. Groceries have been far between, you get them delivered every few weeks if you have the money for it but since you’ve secluded yourself your work has been docking your pay. Even though you’ve put in the same amount of work, just at home instead of in the office.

You’re sitting in bed and wrapped in a blanket, working on your next big article when the phone starts ringing, you look down and immediately recognize the caller id. It’s Miguel, you pick up, your blood boiling.

“Funny that you told me not to bother you, It’s 3 in the morning. Why are you calling me?” You pull the phone away as the line hangs up, giving it a confused look. ‘Great, I guess he’s into prank calls’ you think to yourself, going back to your laptop to continue typing up the article.

You continue on for a few more minutes before hearing your doorbell ring, your blood turns ice cold as panic claws at your skin. You sit frozen on your bed before it rings a second time, finally getting up on shaky legs with bat in hand. You make it to the front door as the doorbell rings one more time, looking through the peephole and you groan. You open the door, bat still in hand just in case it’s a trick.

“Again, it’s 3 in the fucking morning, why’d you call me? I thought breaking and entering was your thing”

Miguel sighs, he honestly looks a little defeated and you give him a confused look, “your apartment is starting to smell like a corpse, I can smell it from below you because it’s so strong. Honestly thought you’d killed over.”

“Again, your charm never fails to shine through, I’ll plug in my wax warmer or something, happy?”

“Far from it,” he says, glaring down at you. “Also, your mailbox is flooded, I think the mail person got confused and can’t fit anymore in there so they put your shit in my box.”

You curse at yourself under your breath. “Of course they did, why would they read the names on the mail boxes?” you sigh softly, rubbing your face. “I’ll take care of it, now please get the hell out of here, you appeased your curiosity, I am in fact still alive. Have a nice night.” You go to close the door before Miguel stops you.

“Listen,” Miguel sighs “I don’t like people, I don’t like talking to people, but I want to help you out. Your apartment smells like a health hazard, and I don’t want to have to be subjected to it anymore. Also I’m sure your wrist is a hindrance.” He points out the cast still encasing your wrist.

Even though he’s already seen it you still tuck your wrist behind your back, blocking the entrance to your apartment. “Okay, let me put this differently, I do not want your help, this shouldn’t matter so much to you, I’m an adult and I can take care of myself.”

He grimaces and pinches the bridge of his nose. “God you’re infuriating, the only reason I’m concerned about what’s going on is because I barely hear your footsteps anymore, I can hear your alarm go off for HOURS before you stop it, I damn well thought you were dead! Your alarm is annoying, the smells are annoying, I. Am. Annoyed!”

You feel the dam start to break, your eyes prickling with tears as you look down. He’s so harsh to you and in your fragile mental state you have a hard time controlling your emotions. You wipe your eyes softly. “Okay fine, I get it, can you just leave? Please? I don’t need to be scolded and talked down to right now and I’d appreciate it if you could leave me alone.” You try to close the door again but he holds the door open easily. You could swear his eyes are glowing a deep red as he looks down at you.

“I won’t make you pay to have my seat professionally cleaned if you let me help you clean your apartment” he bargains. Half of you thinks he’s joking.

“I don’t need your help Miguel, I don’t need you to baby me and treat me like I’m fucking fragile!”

“It’s gonna cost you $5,000 to clean the seats, they’re custom made and incredibly difficult to clean”

You go wide eyed at the price, that’s the equivalent of your rent. You sigh softly, “I… I’ll pay for it, I don’t need your help, especially since you’re just going to degrade me…”

“You obviously do need my help! Your apartment is a wreck, so I’m going to help you out, I’ll hold back on the insults. Whatever it takes to make you clean this goddamn place and actually get some human interaction! I’m helping, end. of. story.”

You can feel the tears starting to fall down your face now and a sob block up your throat. “I don’t want you here Miguel! I want you out of here, now! It’s 3 in the morning, I don’t know why you care so fucking much! There’s not much to care about!” Your voice keeps cracking and your throat feels almost weak. “Can you please just leave?!”

You watch him take a deep breath. “I’m coming back here tomorrow to help you clean up, I’m not going to give up on you like you’ve given up on yourself. I’ll be here at 8”

“God I hate you right now, I don’t want you here tomorrow. We’re not friends, we’re just neighbors who were unfortunate enough to cross paths”

“And that’s fine, but I’m coming back here tomorrow, we don’t have to be friends for me to help you” he glares at you one last time before moving out of the way.

You don’t waste a second and slam the door shut behind him, locking it and wiping your eyes some more. ‘God I fucking hate nosey neighbors’ you think as you shuffle back to your room. You climb back into bed and wrap back up in your blanket, turning your laptop back on and continue on working.

Time passes by so quickly when you’re distracted from the world, before you know it it’s 8:30 am and there’s no sign of Miguel. ‘Maybe he’s not coming back’ you assume, you climb out of bed and shuffle over to your bathroom. You look in the mirror and immediately feel worse about your situation.

“God maybe I should shower…” you say as you let your hair out of the headband holding it back. You’re about halfway through before you hear a knock at the door and practically jump out of your skin. ‘Oh you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me’ you look at the counter and realize your phone isn’t here with you, groaning and trying to finish up as fast as possible while the door bell is spammed a few more times.

“I’M COMING! CALM YOUR SHIT!” You yell towards the door, climbing out of the shower and drying off. You slip a robe on and dry your hair before rushing out to the front door, you look through the peephole and unlock all three locks, two of which you installed soon after you came home a long two months ago. You open your door just a sliver and poke your head out. “I told you not to come back.”

“And I told you I was,” Miguel shrugs, holding a bucket full of cleaning supplies and gloves. “Now where are we starting?”

It took the both of you about a month to clean your apartment well enough to where the smell faded, you had to throw many dishes out as well as half the items in your fridge. Slowly, Miguel starts being less intense and starts to actually talk to you instead of insulting you. You didn’t like having to see him so often at first but he eventually grew on you. You had to confess that it was nice to see his face, his stupidly handsome face. He must have liked spending time with you as well because another month passes and he’s still coming over, less frequently but still often enough to where you feel comfortable letting him in now. You sit down on your couch to relax before hearing a knock on the door, Miguel then comes in for your weekly movie night. He quickly pieced together that you were seriously lacking in friends and ‘it’s important that you interact with people’. You have the same response every time ‘maybe you should practice what you preach’. You look over the back of the couch at him.

“Breaking and entering yet again?” You jest.

“You know me, I love breaking into places” he says with the same flat tone as always. He comes in with two grocery bags of take out. “I went to the Mexican food place down by Park, they seem authentic and since I really don’t feel like cooking tonight, I just decided to pick something up for us.”

“Well shit okay, yeah let’s try it, I’m excited” you smile at him, patting the cushion next to you and takes one of the bags as he sits down. “What exactly did you get?” You ask as you take the box out of the bag.

“Empanadas, Carne Asada, fresh tortillas, good old fashion tacos, and some tamales, only the best stuff for movie night”

You snort, “so already better the Taco Hell” Miguel made up that little nickname after you mentioned how often you eat there during one late night movie session.

“Yes, SO much better then Taco Hell”

You laugh “okay, my main argument is that you don’t go to Taco Hell for authentic Mexican food, you go there for half assed food that’s got white people levels of spice”

And that’s when it happened, the side of Miguel’s mouth twitched, was that a smile? “That’s a horrible joke” his gaze moves from you to the sauce dripping onto his hand and down his arm from the taco he’s holding. You watch as he takes one big bite before licking up his own arm, you’re almost shocked by his actions before he glances back over at you. You look away with a blush and take a bite out of an empanada.

“What were you looking at?” Miguel asks

“I could have sworn that Mr. icy cold exterior just smiled at my joke.” You take another bite of your food, “also you just licked up your arm, it’s hard not to stare at something like that”

“I didn’t smile. You must be mistaken. And sorry for my lack of manners?” He continues to eat. “So are we gonna turn on a movie or something? Or just listen to ourselves chew?”

“What? You don’t like hearing me chew? You don’t like ASMR?” at this point you’re purposely speaking with puffed cheeks full of food just to gross him out. He rolls his eyes.

“See? I don’t know why I apologized for a lack of manners when you’re talking with your mouth full, anyway, pick a movie, let's turn something on” he grabs the remote, “and no, we’re not watching twilight.”

You were dead asleep halfway through the movie you both decided on, curled up on the arm of the couch and covered in a giant quilt. At some point Miguel left, you wake up a few hours later to a note and a clean table.

The hand writing is probably the most elegant thing you’ve seen in a while. ‘Hey, I put the left overs in your fridge, I’m sure they’ll still be good when you nuke them later. I’ll see you next week, same time. Miguel.’ You smile at the note, it’s been a long time since you’ve had a friend and you definitely didn’t expect to have such an attractive and caring one. You stick the note on your fridge and yawn, starting to shuffle towards your bedroom in a haze. Stomach full and feeling good you climb into your sheets and easily fall to sleep.

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Full disclosure, I based this off of how I handled my depression/paranoia before I started taking meds and going to therapy. So it’s not everyone’s experience! But I tried to keep it authentic to the source material. Anyway! Hope y’all enjoy. I’ll figure out a tag list eventually…

#across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #fanfiction #into the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara #slowly slowly #we’re getting there #i promise #multiple part series #non binary #fem leaning #Probably not writing Miguel correctly…#formal apology in the next post #i’m tired

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matchingbatbites · 2 years ago

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WIP Wordsearch Game

rules: share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can’t find the word in your WIPs, or you simply don’t have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word)

Tagged by the wonderful @scarcrossdlvrs tysm! <3

I finally found a second to do this! I was talking with Gerry @barbariansteves about the band Ghost and it made my brain all sparkly, so I'm pulling from the in progress sequel to on your knees before babylon.

My words: first, blank, under, lips, deep

first

There’s a brief pause as Steve absorbs the information, then he blinks as heat floods his face, because- "Holy shit, I know who he is."

Dustin's head snaps to him. "What? You do? This is about you?"

"Yeah, uh. That was definitely about me, and I definitely know who he is." Of course, because how could Steve ever forget Eddie fucking Munson? The first boy Steve had ever kissed, at someone's fucking house party.

That was spring of '83, long before he dated Nancy, before he learned that the world had actual, real monsters. Even though he had been drinking, Steve still has vivid memories about the way Eddie’s hands felt around his waist, about how good it felt to be the small one for a change.

He clears his throat and says "Yeah, that's- Have I heard that song yet?"

under

He learns about the tour, about Eddie's favorite places they've been to, and gets to hear funny stories about the band. In return, he talks about his job, about the teens that have become his little family, his platonic soulmate and how much he misses her even though he’s so proud of her.

When he mentions the kids playing D&D, Eddie blinks hard a few times before saying "Sorry, just- Can you repeat that? Hearing you say 'Dungeons and Dragons' made my brain melt a little."

Steve laughs, grins bright as he says "Yeah? What happens if I tell you about my half-orc barbarian that I played for Erica's birthday last year?"

The older gets a look in his eye, something sharp and hungry that sends tingles up Steve’s spine.

"I, unfortunately, get arrested for public indecency for sucking you off under the table while you talk D&D to me."

A shoe presses against Steve’s ankle meaningfully, and heat floods his face at just the thought of it. “Well I doubt your bandmates would appreciate you missing the concert tonight, so I think we'll save that story for another day.”

lips + deep

Eddie looks at him, cool and calculating, like he’s searching for something in Steve’s expression, and Steve hopes, prays that Eddie knows he wouldn’t do this just to be mean, that he wouldn’t risk his own reputation just to humiliate Eddie.

The metalhead seems to come to the same conclusion as he hums low and reaches out, long fingers wrapping around the back of Steve's neck, and the younger shivers at the contact, at the cool touch against his own flushed skin.

“Alright, then. C’mere, pretty boy.”

Steve feels spellbound as he watches Eddie take a hit before pulling him in, closing the distance between them. Their lips brush together, feather-light as he blows the smoke into Steve's mouth, and the younger inhales, feeling absolutely dizzy at their proximity.

Steve is so painfully close to getting what he wants, and he can’t help but to close the gap, turning the sharing of air into a proper kiss. He has to taste, to test, to see if the rumors are true, and it feels like something finally clicks into place when Eddie kisses him back, deep and wanting, because oh.

Not going to tag anyone specific because I've seen this going around <3

#this was actually a lot of fun!#it forced me to make a few parts more coherent #which is always a good thing #anyways if you like the band ghost and rockstar!eddie #go read on your knees before babylon #wip game #tag game

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super-novatuna · 1 year ago

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Discussing/Going Slightly Crazy over Tears of Themis Main Story 09: Grey Frontier, a Post

will definitely contain spoilers under the cut!

HOO BOY TALK ABOUT MORE QUESTIONS THAN ANSWERS. NONE OF MY PREVIOUS QUESTIONS WERE ANSWERED AND NOW I HAVE MORE HOLY MOLY

my heart dropped when i didn't see a Trial level. more questions, less answers.

let's start by discussing the squares in the little bingo made by @/actualbird, who i will not tag because i do not want to spoil him accidentally. thank u zak for ur services :D

one thing to note is that there are NO bingos this chapter, mainly because one thing most of us probably didn't expect lmao: NXX SEPARATED.

unthinkable. unimaginable. like there's practically NO team stuff in ch9. that's insane. artem was flooded with heirson cases, vyn was dealing with.. whatever the fuck he was doing, marius was presumably busy with managing the backlash of the trial in 08, and that leaves luke, who even though is the one that mc can tag along with for a case is still busy on his own with nsb stuff. hardly any teamwork happening, besides if you count marius' "interrogation" where luke gave him his button back and vyn just guiding mc to figure out what the suicide notes meant... yeah. not to mention artem being skye's attorney???. 99% Win Rate Artem Wing. hello. I have never been more confused. what's the plot behind this? are they all orchestrating a behind-the-scenes plan that'll come together, or are they really all doing their own shit? I'm leaning more towards the former given the nature of the game but gosh this is taking a TURN

translation errors were a lil funny but i could still understand the point which is all i need.

vyn doesn't say anything ominous but saying kys out of nowhere counts a little i think.

jerome 🫰 hes cute but he's uncanny and I'm so curious as to what he's up to. telling the little girl to get marius to pay was nice but there must've been an underlying intention.

no nxx team meeting (i mean with luke and artem. that barely counts because artem was so busy he just let luke have her).

mc figured out abt luke's illness but from what I'm seeing nothing is quite clear and she doesn't know he's got three years oof. artem has a clue but I'm sure he knows nothing either. and marius and vyn have their suspicions but nothing's sure or confirmed.

LUKE PROTECT ROSA !!! YEAHHHH watch ur back u bitchass macho king

do parallels btwn skye and the incident with luke in the hospital count as symbolism idk I'm counting it. i think there's some symbolism a little bit.

for our romantic moment before something terrible happens, ah yes, sweet and worried words on a phone call and then luke has a whole episode. yay. delightful. luke don't fucking die.

no tot story would be complete without an absurd mid-story debate. damn, right in front of the secret nsb station???

no weird luke gadget 😔 sorry he was busy being sick

found family? they aren't even together the marluke moment was barely anything. artem worried about luke having an episode... counts a little. not enough to warrant even a question mark 😔

no nxx meeting, no hilarious bullshit from a boy. sad.

WHAT IS THE TIMELINE SHAKES HYV WHAT IS GOING ON

free space luke is dying

AARON YIPPEEE. good dad.

vincent is a good boy but no intel from him. just him being Best Assistant. Bestest ever.

I didn't cry but i am close to a mental breakdown

LUKE DEPRESSION ASHDJKWKW poor guy.

not sure if Emotionally Charged and Slight Conflict counts as an argument but personally i think kinda?

no baldr because NO TRIAL AAHFJSJJSK

not only do i have more questions about the new Big Bad but I have questions about WHATEVER THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH THE WHOLE TEAM.

voice acting 🔛🔝 as always.

NO COURT 😓😓😓😭😭😭

marius was pretty badly injured what the hell WHERE'S HIS PERSONAL BODYGUARD AJDJFWJ LUKE CAN U DO A LIL FAVOR PERHAPS

artem? almost no artem. AND NO CAPTAIN MORGAN IN THIS STORY AT ALL 🥹🥲

luke's hands. r so pretty. in both goddamn illustrations. eeeee

okay and that's all the bingo points sorted, most of it sorted. two other things that piqued my interest was

1. skye harper. she loves taking care of people and she hates seeing people suffering. gerard suffered because of his mom and so many patients suffered because of tyson turner. she wants to protect her patients and the people she favors. i support her actions btw she's so cool for that. artem also supports her so that's a point in our favor! i also think her drinking all night when gerard disappeared definitely is relevant somehow, we'll see in the next chapter.

2. mc is probably feeling a little left out ngl. everyone's got their own thing, and she can't really actively participate in much because she got doxxed and her personal life is being pried into. and she can't do much about anything, not even help artem for some reason, and she's definitely having a personal conflict especially with luke's... everything. i just love mc's character so much i hope she snaps soon tbh.

thus ends my crazy goings. if u read all the way here kudos have a cookie 🍪

and when we get to the whole team about luke's illness... rubs hands together. hoo boy ch10 is going to go CRAZY.

ALSO the nsb is definitely shady and marius does not trust em all that much. i think he trusts luke but his affiliation with the nsb is causing some distance. aaa.

#tears of themis #tears of themis spoilers #tot spoilers #tot main story #novatuna's brain at work

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best-fnaf-character · 2 years ago

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Propaganda for both bc I can't in good conscience only promote one. I did vote Michael though. I couldn't just Not vote the one I write about all the time, sorry.

Michael: He beat the daycare attendant in the semifinals- holy shit. Whether or not he wins the whole thing or not, that's an accomplishment. The way sun and moon absolutely flood fnaf tags made it look impossible. But he did it! Yippee!!!!

Lore-wise, he's pretty interesting. Literally purple, still not Purple Guy. Took so many Ls in his existence that it's kind of funny. He draws! He makes little doodles in the Logbook and they're actually good. Last representative of the Afton family, all lost to earlier bracket rounds. Blorbo material.

Puppet: Beat Mangle! While not as huge of a Thing, I was still pretty surprised at that outcome (ig that comes more from being around for the height of Mangle's popularity). By a good margin too.

The puppet has a neat design, and was pretty unique in the game it came out in. The music box mechanic was interesting, and I don't think other characters have used it either. Incredibly lore significant as well, give gifts give life and all. And it's Charlie! She deserves the world.

Ps: I love how the poll is ending on Afton vs Emily. It's very fitting. Either one could win and I'd be happy tbh.

yea! id also be happy w whoever wins!! v nice propaganda ask /gen

#fbaf #afton vs emily real #they are eating ice cream together

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aipilosse · 2 years ago

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2022 Fanfic Meme

tagged by @arquiving/crownless! tyyyy

Very curious to see what happens as I’ve been avoiding stats for several months now!

Word count for the year: AO3 says it’s 231,727 but that’s because all of What Brings Us Together counts as 2022 though it was mostly published in 2021.

Number of stories posted to Ao3: 11 (again, including WBUT which started the year before). This includes some anon fic 😶

Pairings written for: Celebrimbor/Sauron; Elwing/Earendil; Celebrimbor/Maeglin;

Fandoms I wrote for: The Silmarillion, and one LotR fic (and one RoP but does it count if you’re just spoofing show rumors?)

Most popular story: What Brings Us Together, by a long shot.

Story I’m most proud of: I am proud of What Brings Us Together -- it’s a novel! there’s plot! there’s a bajillion characters! I think I gave Sauron a totally undeserved happy ending without letting him completely off the hook! It (was) a pretty unique story (lmao no longer though)! But I’m also proud of Family Pulled From a Flood and A Fiend in Feline Shape both of which explored new relationships and characters and cultures.

Funniest: Haha, probably A Fiend in Feline Shape -- Ancalagon as a rage-filled cat who accidentally becomes besties with Nimloth is just funny.

Kinkiest: lol the anon stuff.

Saddest: Four Winters, focused on Celegorm & Celegorm’s cruel servants, maybe my first tragic arc?

Least Popular: Well the more recently published stuff has less hits, but I’m going to guess it soon eclipses Lineage, my Arwen & daughter fic for the remix exchange.

Most Cringe-Worthy: lol the anon stuff.

Favorite Opening Line(s):

From a Fiend in Feline Shape:

The Valar gathered, as they were wont to do, on the third Thursday of every month. Or perhaps it was that the third Thursday of every month occurred whenever the Valar gathered. (Calendars were very stressful business for those who cared about such things in Aman.)

Favorite Closing Line(s):

eeeeehhhh let’s go with WBUT? (I really don’t think of myself as a writer who writes really sizzling lines out of context... always kind of painful to pull a quote)

Annatar looked up at him, some measure of awe still in his face. “And I will walk with you, through whatever shall come to pass, until the very end.”

Celebrimbor half rolled off Annatar, although his head still rested on his arm, and let their minds spin together, dreaming of a world unanticipated, but no less joyful.

Top Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated:

Celebrimbor wearing snake!Sauron from The Gold are Venomous

Celegorm & Gwíneth hunting, from Four Winters (Celegorm in particular from the fic; he’s a trans man who looks like a short, stout Robert Plant circa 1973)

Ancalagon being a shoulder cat with Nimloth from a Fiend in Feline Shape

Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to: sooo many stories bouncing around my head yet I cannot focus on any. Hopefully some more post-canon silvergifting.

Fic-writing goals for 2023: Finish In a Strange Land, participate in a few exchanges.

Tagging (but no pressure): @lesbianhaleth, @undercat-overdog, @i-am-a-lonely-visitor, @jouissants, @samarqqand, and anyone else who’s interested! (sorry if you’ve been tagged a bunch/have already done it)

#tag games #my writing

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littlemissmentallyunstable · 4 months ago

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title: we’re apples and oranges now

pairing: Grayson Hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you and Grayson broke up years and years ago after a long and happy relationship but one day you meet again in the future and the memories come flooding back…

parts: we’re oranges and apples now (grayson’s pov)

warnings: it’s kind of sad (help idk how to write warnings)

a/n: ignore the slightly obscure title… I have taken from inspiration from a poem I once heard that made me cry. I would definitely be willing to write this in Grayson’s POV if anyone wanted to see it

tag list: there is no tag list but let me know if you want to be on it :)

You were in the shop picking up a few bits you knew you needed at home. You leisurely walk over the fruit section and gaze across the endless choices, before finally deciding the settle for a few apples. You grab a brown paper bag and begin to place what look to be the nicest ones in there. You become aware of someone standing beside you and you quickly side glance seeing that they are buying some oranges. You smile to yourself, ‘funny’ you think wistfully, ‘apples and oranges’.

You reach for your fourth and final apple and accidentally bump into the figure, your hands fly to your mouth as you opt an apologetic tone, “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!”

“Y/N?”

You freeze, paralysed for a moment. You can hear your heart thumping in your ears, the shock overtaking your system. That voice. How could you ever forget that voice? It only belonged to one person. Grayson Hawthorne.

You look up, your heart picking up in speed suddenly, “Gray?”

You meet a pair of familiar steel grey eyes. Those eyes. His eyes. The rolling thunderstorm clouds, telling stories without words made you want to melt right there and then on the spot. A poetic sort of grey that left you tongue tied and awestruck and all that was in between. They were so soft but so very sharp at the same time, just as you had remembered.

“Wow it’s really you,” Grayson says, almost smiling, though not quite. It was his way of being polite to people out in public, you recall noticing when you had been together.

It’s so odd seeing him again. It’s as of the ghost of him still lurked somewhere in your brain and now seeing in person was too surreal to comprehend. He still looking the spitting image of what he used to, like he hadn’t aged a day. Still just as gorgeous in every way. His golden hair still luscious, falling in velvety half waves over his head, forming a sort of crown, making him seem like a king. He had clearly maintained his sharp, muscular physique making part of you want to ask if he still swam but you decided against the idea.

Slowly your eyes trail down to his left hand and your heart slowly sinks. You don’t know why and you’re angry at yourself. You shouldn’t care, you shouldn’t even think about it but your mind still continues to wander. There’s a ring on his finger and it’s so perfectly Grayson. Who knew a circular piece of metal could cause a lump to form in your throat? You wonder if inside is engraved the initials, just like the two of you had discussed when evening when thinking about the future. And then it hits you like a bus. He’s actually married. You didn’t know why that fact hadn’t come to your brain sooner or why you hadn’t realised the reality or why there was a feeling in the pit of your stomach bubbling away. A sort of… jealousy? But why would you be jealous, it was going to happen eventually. ‘He looks happy,’ you think. And you want him to be happy. But did you really want him happy with someone else? You shake the feeling. You have your own life now and he’s not a part of it. Not anymore.

But still the cogs turn in your brain and suddenly you’re thinking about his wife. You never thought Grayson would have a wife that wasn’t you. What did she look like? Did she have bright blue eyes and plump lips? Was she angelic, beautiful, confident, everything you were not? Or did she look like someone who could pass for your sister, with pretty matching features? Was she bold and daring or was she calm and reserved? What made him choose her? Fall for her harder than he’d fallen for you? What made her love worth fighting for?

No. You shut the thoughts down once and for all. It’s wrong. You refuse to dwell on the matter any longer.

But one last thought creeps in… you wonder if you were married like the two of you had once imagined if he would still be wearing that exact ring or whether you might have decided on another. You decide for the upteenth time to mentally scold yourself and not think about his marriage any longer. You notice his eyes flicker to the items in your basket. The baby bottles and blankets and the little outfit you’d just picked out. You wonder if his heart sunk like yours did. You hope it might have.

“Yeah, gosh, hi, how have you been?” you say, remembering you couldn’t just keep staring at him, you shouldn’t just keep staring at him.

“Good, I’m good,” he says, smiling slightly, “how are you?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “good as well.”

“It’s been a while,” he chuckles slightly.

“Yeah it has,” you laugh lightly, “it’s about time we’d bump into each other.”

“Yeah,” he nods smiling more widely now. You’d never seen his eye light up like this, you’d never seen him so full of life and happiness. This person he was with now must really have made him different.

You tilt your head slightly and admire him, your mind flicking through endless beautiful memories you shared. The deja vu coats every part of your skin as you envisage the sunset beaches you’d fall asleep in his arms on and the late night talks you’d share.

“I’ve missed you,” you blurt out, without thinking, regretting the foreign words are soon as they leave your sorry lips.

“I’ve missed you too,” he replies, his tone true and meaningful, a hint of emotion in the midst of grey.

Your heart clenches and a rush of bittersweet mess rolls over you like the tired tide coming back to shore. You suddenly feel your eyes become glossy but don’t dare let a tear fall. There is silence and in that silence you stare into one another’s eyes, taking you right back to that fateful night when it all had ended. He had looked into your eyes just liked this and you’d looked into his and then that was it. But the silence is different this time, it’s not just agonisingly painful but it brings a sense of nostalgia. The goodness in the memories of the past that will never be created and the sorrow that they will never repeat in history again. In that moment of silence an unspoken conversation occurs between the two of you, a shared moment the saddest of happiness and the happiest of sadness all at once.

“Well I’d best get going,” he says, eyes flicking to his phone screen, a call coming through. You make the silent assumption it must be his wife phoning.

“Yeah me too,” you nod quickly, collecting yourself the best you could.

“Goodbye Y/N, I wish you all the best,” he says

“Bye Gray,” you smile, the bittersweet clutching your chest, “I wish you the same.”

And you turn and walk your separate ways, oranges in his basket, apples in yours. When you got home you shed a few tears and you wonder if he did to.

***

The apples rot in the fruit bowl and the next time you go to the shop you buy oranges instead of apples hoping he’d be there too, but he never was. You wonder if the next time he went to the shop he bought apples rather than oranges in hope to see you. But you never found out…

a/n: want to find others like this… check out my TIG masterlist

#bella writes 🤍#grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne #the inheritance games #tig #the hawthorne brothers #the hawthorne legacy #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit

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irithnova · 1 year ago

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1) I find it upsetting that plum (and others in the reblogs with similar opinions) had to put that many disclaimers in their post in order to avoid mass hate because of the sheer amount of backlash I faced

2) I find it insane that the topic of racebending needs to be talked about in an almost academic level for people to realise that being critical of racebending isn't a personal attack on poc creators

3) "You deserved the backlash because your tone was harsh" refer to point 2. Also I have a right to have an opinion on the subject matter as a poc who has non white/western ocs and pretty much exclusively posts about non white/western characters just like how everyone else in the fandom is allowed to have an opinion on it and no amount of tone policing or victim blaming excuses the amount of racist anons I got and anons who continued to misconstrue what I was saying despite me clarifying myself in my reblogs that I was not trying to attack poc or stifle their creative choices, my OG post was a broader criticism of racebending content.

4) What I find shocking is the fact that I got pretty vicious backlash from other poc over a fucking one liner "people would rather racebend" and then for my subsequent reblogs which were were seen as an attempt as policing other minorities when I was literally... Giving my perspective on why I don't like racebending. As soon as someone has an opinion you don't like, it's now policing?

5) Jumping off from point (4) but POC are often vilified for lesser offenses compared to white people and I'm sorry but this is the perfect example. How come I know of around 15 white hetalians who do and say some pretty egregious shit (like posting fucking borderline Nazi uniform fanart) yet where is their inbox flooded with the absolute worst messages? Where are the shady posts about them? When's the last time you guys sat around in a pissed off circle-jerk about half of the shit they do?

Circling back to the point of white vs mixed vs poc Alfred (because a vast majority of my hate was from poc Alfred fans). I've literally seen bigger, white hetalia accounts share why they personally see Alfred as white and they did not receive an OUNCE of the vitriol that I received for my like. 2/3 sentence paragraph saying basically "forgive me for not liking poc Alfred personally as a Filipino because of the history."

I'm not saying you have to agree with me at all because surprise, dictating poc was never my intention. But the reactions are very telling. Do you not see how insane that is.

Funny how my detractors are accusing me of of trying to control their creative choices and dictate them, yet they're attempting to dictate me by straight up saying I'm basically/functionally white, therefore I'm not allowed to have an opinion on... Poc Alfred.

I said this in a previous post but if I wanted to dictate you all. I would have posted in relevant tags (like #aphamerica) so potential racebending fans were more likely see it. I would have gone after posts where characters are racebent or call people out by name. I would have sent butthurt asks/anons to racebending fans.

This was literally my first ever post regarding my personal opinions on racebending.

I think it's. funny. To say the least seeing some of the types of people saying that my behaviour is unacceptable considering I know full well of their conduct in private (some of these people I know for a fact have been complicit in racism) I am not taking any criticism from the likes of these people and the people nodding their heads in agreement with them.

I am also not taking any shit/bullying from white Americans when it comes to my personal discomfort with poc Alfred as a Filipino woman. For obvious reasons.

One last thing. I'll just put the screenshot of the post here

+ Some of you need to grasp the distinction between personal opinion and an attempt at dictation. Someone shouldn't need to repeat "personally" or any variant of that excessively to avoid dictator accusations.

RACEBENDING NATIONAL PERSONIFICATIONS: A TREATISE

DISCLAIMERS:

I AM NOT WHITE, I AM A POC. I am not writing this because I’m a butthurt white person who gets pissy when someone makes my white faves nonwhite and thus unrelatable to me for ‘some’ reason.

I AM NOT PERSONALLY ATTACKING ANY INDIVIDUALS WHO RACEBEND OR IMAGINE THEIR NATIONS TO HAVE A DIFFERENT ETHNICITY THAN WHAT THEY DO IN CANON; ON A SIMILAR NOTE, DO NOT ATTACK SUCH INDIVIDUALS FOR ME. This is a discussion of general fandom trends and a larger phenomenon, the issue I am talking about cannot be solved on an individual to individual basis.

I AM NOT TRYING TO STOP FIRST NATIONS PEOPLE FROM RECLAIMING THEIR NATIONS. As I am not First Nations myself, I would not wish to deny what these individuals emotionally and mentally reap from reclaiming their nations.

I AM NOT THE “POC AREN’T ALLOWED TO HAVE FUN AND SEE THEMSELVES IN THEIR FAVES” POLICE; I AM NOT YOUR MOM, DO WHATEVER YOU WANT. Again, this is a discussion of fandom trends and a larger phenomenon. I think it’s almost always worth examining why we do the things we do and the reasons behind a trend.

I AM NOT AGAINST RACEBENDING IN GENERAL. This is specifically an essay on racebending in nationverse Hetalia and other personified nations fandoms.

PREFACE

As stated before in my disclaimers, this essay is not intended to be a condemnation of individuals who participate in racebending. Rather, I intend to make a macro-critique of wider structures and patterns. For this reason, this essay is not accusing anyone engaging in racebending of holding any specific belief. I cannot stress enough how much I do not know you, the hypothetical reader who engages in racebending.

Again, my intent is to critique wider structures and patterns.

This essay is a conversation I would like to have with other POC and other marginalized groups, especially POC based in white, Western countries. Thus, I ask people not included in the above groups to refrain from weighing in on this.

ALTERNATIVE GOOGLE DOC LINK HERE

TABLE OF CONTENTS

The Difference in Reception for Racebent versus Non-Racebent Characters

The Inherent Politicism of Personifying Nations

The State of POC Representation in Hetalia

The Assumption of Interchangeability in POC Experience

The Myth of Multiculturalism

“It’s Just Fandom, Why Are You Trying to Control POC Who Just Want to Have Fun and Want to Represent Themselves?"

Conclusion

The Difference in Reception for Racebent versus Non-Racebent Characters

I will start this essay off with an acknowledgement of my station in the Hetalia fandom and how it uniquely equips me to talk about this topic – I am very fortunate to enjoy a follower base that primarily follows me for non-Western characters, whether they be canonical or my own original characters. As someone who mostly posts non-Western characters, I can confirm that there is a wider disparity in reception between drawings of my white characters and non-white characters. The following example is not from myself, but from the artist miyuecakes who similarly focuses on predominantly non-white, non-Western countries. You can see there is a drastic gap in the amount of notes that post focused on five nations considered to be non-Western versus a drawing of Female America.

Stating this fact of the fandom is fairly noncontroversial. I would also assert that the following statement is equally true, however given recent reception, is far more controversial: “There are far more instances of racebent canonically white/Western characters, which receive far more traction than their non-racebent counterparts, whether canonical or not.”

I want to make clear what my statement is not saying:

Racebending is only done by white people seeking to score clout and diversity points without having to care about canon non-white characters. In fact, the vast majority of racebending in the fandom is done by POC looking for representation; given the amount of white canon nations compared to any other nation, POC who engage in racebending see it as a way of “evening” the disproportionate overrepresentation of white countries.

POC who engage in racebending are doing so to score clout and diversity points with a white audience. Refer to my above point.

Racebent canonically white characters are met with no controversy or racist/bigoted vitriol. It is fairly well known that there have been multiple harassment campaigns, particularly on Twitter, against artists and editors who’ve engaged in racebending even outside of the Hetalia fandom: see the Black Anya edit, Thumin’s artwork and resulting hate. POC being visibly POC in online spaces will always garner backlash.

On a similar note, I am not including POC cosplayers cosplaying white or light-skinned characters in my definition of racebending. Being angered by POC who cosplay characters of a different complexion is blatantly racist; anyone who is angered by this has nothing of value to add and not worth arguing with.

I am a bitter artist who is mad that I don’t receive enough notes on my posts with non-racebent characters compared to posts about racebent white characters. As stated earlier, I am grateful for the audience I’ve cultivated who specifically follow me for non-racebent non-Western content; I am also more than aware that my content is not what people who seek out racebent content are looking for, and have no interest in changing either my content or their tastes. The last thing I would wish to do is to label POC creators who engage in racebending as “the enemy” and POC creators who don’t as “my side.”

With that out of the way, I bring up this observation because I think it’s worth asking ourselves, POC specifically, the following questions: Why? Why is there this discrepancy in frequency and reception between these kinds of characters and content? Why do people racebend in lieu of focusing on existing POC and creating their own non-white characters?

The easy answer most would give is because white characters are over-represented and given more screen time and attention in the canon, so people, especially POC, will become attached to them and create variations of them that hit closer to home for them; this is especially the case if you are a POC who has had experiences living as a minority in a Western country. Some POC may also use racebending as a way to subvert national myths that have historically excluded people of color for a variety of racist, imperialist reasons. I know I used to subscribe towards a depiction of non-white passing America and Canada for this very reason.

In the rest of this essay I would like to examine and critique the practice of racebending national anthropomorphisms traditionally and typically depicted as white in the context of Hetalia and by extension other media involving similar premises. This essay argues that while racebending may be harmless for most other anime, Hetalia – by virtue of its content centering real life nations – carries political implications that are not necessarily appropriate.

I stress again that I can’t stop you or what anybody in the Hetalia fandom does. I do not have that kind of power nor the will to do such a thing. All I ask is for you to listen to the following with an open mind, and if there’s only one thing you take away from this, I hope it’s to realize that POC in particular have valid reasons to dislike racebent depictions of white nations; holding such a stance does not make them anti-POC representation and somehow no longer POC and instead, a member of the white oppressor class.

The Inherent Politicism of Personifying Nations

Firstly, I repeat that a series about personified nations is deeply political and every creative choice carries political and socio-cultural ramifications, whether intentional or not and made by the creator or the fan. Even if you mostly interact with Hetalia in a depoliticized context, others may not, and given that nationverse Hetalia is about personified nations, this is perfectly reasonable.

Let us look into the canon material of Hetalia- It is shown that nations on average have close ties to their governments, viewing them as their bosses and carrying out actions for them. We are shown that there are nations who go against the orders of their governments, such as Germany; this does not mean all nations follow in that pattern, however, and there are many who are in lockstep with their governments and their actions.

Therefore, for individuals whose ethnic groups and nations have suffered great harm from oppressor nation-states (Philippines v. United States, Indonesia v. Netherlands, India v. England), it is not irrational for them to be unsettled by their oppressor being racebent- especially when said oppressor nation-state is depicted as being the same ethnicity as the very group(s) they marginalized. This is uncomfortable for multiple reasons:

There is an implication that a member of a marginalized group possibly chose to take part in atrocities and misdeeds that the said marginalized group historically not the major perpetrator behind. In more egregious cases, a member of a marginalized group willingly chose to commit atrocities and misdeeds on a large scale against their own group.

The oppressor state personification was forced by their government to commit these grievous acts of harm against members of other marginalized groups/their own marginalized groups; thus, the personification of the nation-state, the people, has little to no culpability as an oppressor, and is instead made into a fellow victim of their own government.

This deflects blame from the embodiment of the state of being an oppressor. The suggestion here is that the state is somehow completely separate yet intertwined with the government – it was simply the government who perpetrated the crimes… the people were just unwillingly complicit. This can come across as an erasure/rosewashing of the very purposeful policies used to harm and disadvantage colonized/oppressed groups.

This can also erase the fact that in many cases, the people gave the government’s actions their tacit approval whether it was through whole-hearted enthusiasm or apathy towards the suffering of others.

In the case that the racebent nation’s minority ethnicity was historically involved in such acts, this involves highly sensitive conversations about minorities’ complicity in crimes and assimilation into the white/majority order (e.g. Chinese and East Asian settlers in Hawaii after America’s illegal annexation, Korean collaborators with the Japanese annexation of Korea, African American soldiers in the Philippines); these are extremely touchy subjects that should be had within the relevant ethnic groups, and should not be appropriated by outsiders, particularly white people, especially for fandom purposes.

(I will discuss insiders racebending nation-states to their ethnic group that have suffered mistreatment and oppressed by said nation-states in “The Myth of Multiculturalism.”)

Additionally, racebending may end up justifying those very same crimes, especially in the case of settler colonialism. For example, during French rule of Algeria, the French government began a program of confiscating Algerian land from indigenous Algerians and giving them to French and European settlers. Over the course of two centuries, more and more land was taken away from indigenous Algerians, forcing them to move to the margins of society, where they were barred from accessing employment, higher education, and the other societal amenities.

Many would be able to identify how personifying Algeria as a white, French individual would be erasing indigenous Algerians and implying that the French settlers represent all of Algeria. However, conversely, making France an Algerian man is also playing into colonial French propaganda. The French viewed Algeria as part of France and the French homeland itself, unique even among other French African colonies, and made plans to make Algeria a full-fledged French province, or department. To make the national personification of France Algerian then, is to suggest that this belief was and is correct, that the Algerians are a part of the colonial core of France, even if the intention is to represent the modern day Algerian diaspora in France.

IMPORTANT: I will expand on the politics of representing diaspora populations in the section “The Myth of Multiculturalism.”

Given all of these reasons for why POC may justifiably react negatively to a racebent white nation personification, some may argue against these with:

“Why is it that when the nation is white, they never have to deal with any of these heavy discussions of imperialism, bigotry, oppression, etc, but when they’re racebent they suddenly have to? Why are they suddenly politicized when they’re racebent?”

My response to that is that they were politicized, even when they were white because the act of personifying a nation is inherently political; to ignore a white nation’s history of oppression is a politically charged move in of itself. Are we really depoliticizing POC when we racebend a white nation and try to maintain that same ‘depoliticization’ and omission of historical oppression but this time for a POC face? To racebend a white nation is to refuse to contend with the contradiction of transforming an oppressor class to the very group they marginalize - making racebending an inherently political act. It is not necessarily that whiteness is unpolitical but rather that an active refusal to deal with this contradiction makes the political implications much more obvious.

Additionally, this rebuttal raises another question- Were we to completely forget about a character’s background as the personification of an oppressor state and the political weight of that, would that truly solve the problem of POC being politicized? I don’t think so- In the current world we live in, POC are always political. But exclusively racebending oppressor states makes no attempt to depoliticize non-Western POC states, creating a divide between POC that get to be “depoliticized” and POC who don’t based on their proximity to the West.

The State of POC Representation in Hetalia

Some would argue with the points of my last paragraph saying that I am not including POC who both engage in racebending but also create non-Western POC OCs; if equal attention is given to both, there would be no division between racebent Western POC who get to be humanized and non-Western POC who don’t, right?

To answer this we must acknowledge wider trends in racebending in Hetalia. Consider the following: When somebody has a North African! Romano, how many other North African nations (canon or non-canon) do they show appreciation for? Create content for? Expound the same amount of mental and creative energy for? Furthermore: If they do have another North African nation(s) they create content for, are they allowed to exist as their own separate beings, and not purely exist to be North African! Romano’s tie to North Africa?

Chances are, Romano is reduced to being the token brown character in a largely white cast and isn’t allowed to ever exist without whiteness surrounding him. This is a very diaspora experience, but I find it unfortunate that in a piece of media that enables us to explore any number of cultures and experiences over all of time and history, we (and I’m including myself as another POC who grew up in a primarily white environment) are unable to imagine ourselves outside of this setting and celebrate ourselves without having to exist against a white mainstream. Stories about white engulfment are allowed to exist and should be told, but why is this so common? Why do these stories disproportionately outnumber POC stories where whiteness is minute or absent?

As my audience is intended to be mostly POC, I will not elaborate on the following scenario too much, but I will ask us to scrutinize the ethics of it. What about cases where white individuals racebend some of their white favorite characters and position them as POC representation in lieu of actually focusing on POC, non-Western nations, canon or not? Does this not have implications about what kinds of POC and diversity are considered more palatable and appealing?

Furthermore, when another North African nation does exist alongside racebent Romano, their character and depiction is almost always heavily dependent on their relationship to Romano, a Western nation. This still perpetuates the same inequality I was talking about earlier where POC nations are humanized based on their proximity to the West, whether because they personify a Western nation or happen to have a relationship with a Western nation.

We should not just be talking about having “more” non-white representation, but also the quality of it. It is completely understandable why some POC may not be satisfied with the representation most racebent content provides, even beyond the reasons outlined previously; this type of representation excludes POC who do not have a relationship to the West, and is still largely focused on the West.

IMPORTANT: I am not saying that contact with or influence from the West makes POC somehow “less POC” or that stories from Western-based diaspora are a “diluted” form of representation. I will expand on this in the section “The Myth of Multiculturalism.”

“Well if it’s not good enough for those POC, then they should just mind their business and make their own representation! There’s plenty of non-racebent content out there!”

Many POC do exactly that- creating their own representation without racebending. However, as established earlier, racebent white characters receive far more attention and feedback compared to canonical non-white characters, despite the fact that both depictions fulfill the purpose of “representation.” This can be especially disheartening in a fandom that already heavily tokenizes canon POC nations, whether it’s India being presented as the “nanny”/surrogate parent in Commonwealth group art or Seychelles as the “adopted child of color” in FACES family. To POC content creators, it feels insulting that the wider fandom, rather than developing POC canon characters (or taking advantage of the source material’s potential by making OCs) and viewing them as representation, the fandom chooses to racebend Western nations and celebrates them instead.

I want to make clear again what I am not saying with that statement:

POC who engage in racebending are doing so to score clout and diversity points with a white audience. Again, it’s a fact that the vast majority of racebending is done by POC looking to create their own representation.

POC who engage in racebending should all go stan Seychelles and Cuba instead. This is an extremely individualist solution to what is a wider phenomenon. I do not blame POC based in Western countries for feeling disconnected to the few POC nations we have in canon.

Racebent POC content is more popular than content of non-racebent white characters.

What I am describing here is how an audience (the Hetalia fandom) receives two creations, both made by POC in the pursuit of creating more representation, and the difference in reception. The difference, it seems, is that the wider fandom deems certain kinds of POC representation more appealing, and thus, certain kinds of POC worth focusing on.

The Assumption of Interchangeability in POC Experience

Earlier, I mentioned that one of the possible reasons for POC to engage in racebending is the desire to see an iteration of their favorite character that is closer to their own reality and lived experience. Therefore, some may choose to racebend a white character to embody a marginalized minority in the country instead so they can share more experiences with the formerly white characters.

Here, I will not be dealing with the practice of POC racebending their own country to their own ethnicity, which is the focus of the next section. Instead, I will be delving into the practice of POC racebending another nation to embody a minority (one which they do not belong to) for the purposes of ‘putting themselves in their interpretations.’ I argue that to do this requires assuming a certain level of interchangeability between POC experiences.

First and foremost, POC are not a monolith- we lead drastically different lives depending on our ethnic backgrounds, where we live, our socioeconomic class, our political and racial context, and etc. Therefore, we cannot presume that our experiences of marginalization mean we’ll always succeed in properly representing other minority groups elsewhere; in fact, the goal of projecting our own life experiences onto them means that there will be an obstacle to properly representing these minority groups.

Take the following example: Imagine a Chinese-Malaysian individual greatly enjoys the character of Spain. Wishing to better relate to him, the individual racebends him to be also Chinese. However, a great deal of historical, cultural determinants and nuances separate the experiences of Chinese people in Spain and Chinese people in Malaysia. There are similarities, yes, but this Chinese Malaysian cannot hope to properly represent the Chinese population in Spain if their primary goal remains self-projection. Now imagine that our Chinese-Malaysian individual wished to racebend England to be Indian; an even wider gap separates the experiences and history of Chinese people in Malaysia and Indian people in England, making it even less likely that our individual will succeed in representing the experiences of Indian people in England.

Another point to consider is that attempts at racebending certain national personifications to represent minorities in the country end up erasing representation for the majority population of the country. For example, there has been a historical Japanese community in Peru that dates back to the 1800s and made a large impact on Peruvian culture. However, it would still be inappropriate to make a Peru OC that is mostly Japanese in race, because besides just being not representative of the 99.9% of non-Japanese Peruvians, it would also be taking representation from Peruvian mestizo and indigenous peoples, who make up over 80% of Peru’s population.

This isn’t even taking into consideration cases where nations are racebent to personify ethnic groups that do not have a numerically significant or historically significant population.

“So what if it’s inaccurate? I just want to self-project onto my favorite character!”

If that’s your response, then I encourage you to read the section “It’s Just Fandom, Why Are You Trying to Control POC Who Just Want to Have Fun and Want to Represent Themselves?” where I address assertions of "fandom is not activism" and similar points.

For now, I will ask you to consider the feelings of those very minorities you are ostensibly representing, even if your primary intention is to project your own experiences onto a character. Chances are, they also suffer from little to no representation that depicts them in inaccurate and unflattering ways.

Hetalia is a media property supposedly centered around exploring and learning about other cultures, but so often fails to accurately and sensitively depict many cultures and nations. Should we not show them the grace that canon Hetalia fails to provide?

The Myth of Multiculturalism

Multiculturalism is typically defined as a celebration of a nation’s ethnic diversity. This is generally considered to be a good and progressive value to have, but a closer and more critical look at multiculturalism in practice suggests that not even a value directed at xenophobia is immune to in-group out-group biases. When enacted by the state, multiculturalism is less an acceptance of diversity as it currently exists (especially in regards to non-indigenous ethnicities) and more an assimilation of these “foreign cultures” into the dominant national one.

For example, Singapore has built much of its national identity as a “multicultural” society. This is shown through government policies in language and education, where the languages of the 3 ethnic groups (Chinese, Tamil Indians, Malays) are all officialized and the government promotes education for ethnic minorities in their mother tongues. However, the label of “multicultural” hides the reality of power inequality between the various ethnic groups. Minorities face pressure to display literacy in the language and culture of the Chinese majority for greater societal acceptance and inclusion. In fact, the assertion that Singapore is a multicultural society that treats its ethnic groups all equally, is often used as a cudgel to shut down any allegations that Singapore fails to live up to this national identity. As my audience is intended to be predominantly POC, especially those living as minorities in Western nations, members of my audience are of course familiar with insistences of “But Canada/United States/etc is a melting pot society! Racism isn’t a serious issue, POC can’t be treated poorly in those countries.”

By racebending a national personification to be part of a marginalized population, this is making a political statement by asserting that the marginalized population is in fact a part of that nation, and has always been, despite historical exclusion. The act of racebending is an overly idealistic and uncritical agreement with multiculturalism, without considering how the value actually applies in practice. It rosewashes the reality and existence of cultural imperialism enacted on immigrant/outsider groups.

Racebending can therefore accidentally act as multicultural propaganda, especially when the invokement of multiculturalism is used to stamp out valid critiques of othering and racialization by ethnic minorities. (E.g. “Singapore can’t have problems with racism against Malays! Singapore himself is Malay!”)

IMPORTANT: If you want to argue that nation personifications are not inherently representative of their government, refer to the section, “The Inherent Politicism of Personifying Nations.”

“Well, POC based in Western countries will naturally feel more connected to their Western countries than their homelands, often because of those policies intended to break their connections to their homelands. Why can’t they racebend to reclaim? To feel connected to their Western countries in contrast to their realities of ostracization and othering?”

I have already discussed why other POC (those affected by a white regime’s actions) would be uncomfortable with the implications of tying a POC/marginalized group with said white regime’s misdeeds in the section “The Inherent Politicism of Personifying Nations” so I will not discuss it here beyond mentioning it.

Firstly, I must acknowledge that this argument is fundamentally an emotional one. I do not want to deny what POC in Western countries emotionally derive from racebending the nation-state, even as a fellow POC based in a Western country. Instead, I will approach this argument from another angle.

I ask the following: When trying to represent our experiences as diaspora and minorities, why is personifying a diaspora/minority community not a popular option? The act of choosing to personify a community is inherently political, and we can use it to empower ourselves as diaspora or minorities. For example, by personifying diaspora communities, we can acknowledge that diaspora experiences are different enough from those in the ‘homeland’ to warrant another personification, and also avoid accidentally justifying colonial possession of those ‘homeland’ states.

Additionally, by personifying diaspora/minority communities, we can 1) better reflect our unique day-to-day experiences of being racialized and separated from the mainstream, 2) avoid many of the earlier uncomfortable implications of minority collaboration in majority perpetrated acts and condoning colonialism, and 3) stress our independence and autonomy despite the efforts of the state and majority population to take that away.

To put it another way, why are there so many stories of minorities striving towards being included, or from another angle, subsumed, into the white nation-state despite its frequent rejection of them? Again, what does it say that these narratives of “inclusion into a historically white nation-state” disproportionately outnumber POC narratives where whiteness is minute or absent?

IMPORTANT: I am not singling you, the hypothetical POC diaspora individual who engages in racebending, out. I am asking about wider patterns of representation in media.

“But by personifying diaspora and minority communities separately from the personification of the nation-state, isn’t that basically saying that minorities will never be seen as part of the nation-state? That we will never be included when people think of our nation state?”

I believe this response takes too narrow a perspective on what multiculturalism is and “being part of a nation-state means,” and thus views having separate personifications as ‘justifying’ or ‘promoting’ our exclusion from the nation-state when it may not be the case.

Look at it from this way- Is it not also problematic to have only one avatar for, say, America, and thus imply that there is one true way of being “American?” Having multiple American personifications, in contrast, is a more true depiction of the realities of being American, and more true to the values of multiculturalism; it instead suggests that there are many ways to be American, that we don’t have to be subsumed into the mainstream to be considered “American.”

“Isn’t that functionally the same as different interpretations of the same nation-state coexisting? Why can’t fans just all have a different Alfred/America specific to their own experience who are all equally considered American?”

Once more: I am not trying to stop anyone from doing anything. That’s not within my power to do so. I agree with this statement that largely, having multiple American personifications and multiple America/Alfred fulfills the same purpose of showing that to be American means something different to everyone. However, the reason I advocated for the former approach is because it achieves the same goal with a lot less uncomfortable questions and unique benefits (minority autonomy), as detailed above.

“It’s Just Fandom, Why Are You Trying to Control POC Who Just Want to Have Fun and Want to Represent Themselves?”

First off, I am presenting this essay as a conversation with other POC because I want to make it explicitly known that my position here is not that of a white person seeking to silence POC and lecture them about what is and is not good for them. Secondly, it's because I want to talk about racebending as it currently exists in the Hetalia fandom, something mostly done by POC who wish to represent themselves and create the diversity missing in the source material. I believe pointing out that white people who are uncomfortable with POC characters or only racebend for self-centered reasons likely have a racial bias is obvious, especially to other POC, and wish to progress the conversation beyond this. This is why my discussion on racebending is moving beyond white bias.

As part of centering this as a discussion among POC, I am also assuming good faith from my interlocutors, that their desires for representation and diversity are sincere, and that I don’t look down on them. I hope then, that this assumption of good faith can be afforded to me as well- that my interlocutors believe me when I say that the last thing I want to do is control POC, as a fellow POC.

Having gotten all of that out of the way, let's address some rebuttals to the arguments I've made thus far.

"Who are you to decide what kind of representation resonates with POC?"

You're right. I can't decide what kind of representation resonates with POC. Again, I am not intent on controlling POC, and again, I recognize that many of the arguments in favor of racebending white nations come from an emotional place; I can’t control how POC feel, even if I wanted to do that.

However, it's precisely because of this that I've made my arguments based on factors other than emotional ones, such as the political implications and questioning the inclusivity racebending provides us with. POC joy and happiness is crucial in the face of a system that seeks to crush and suppress us. But from one POC to another, it's not much of a discussion if your response to my points is simply, "Well, it makes me feel represented and happy, and that's what matters most." If we argued based on that, we could go all day. Am I not a POC myself? Do the feelings and happiness of POC who are uncomfortable with racebending not matter? For that matter, who are you to tell the people whose families and people have been historically affected by white imperialist states to stop disliking racebent versions of those imperialist states?

For white people, it is easy for them to shut down racebending, because they don't understand the experience of never seeing yourself in any form of media. I have asked white/non-marginalized people to refrain from this discussion for that very reason. But in exchange for that, we should be able to discuss the ramifications of racebending national personifications, and look deeper at the arguments for and against racebending.

"You're taking this too seriously. People giving more attention to racebent versions of Western countries versus non-racebent POC countries doesn't say anything deeper about someone's political beliefs. People just like the silly anime about personified countries, and that silly anime happens to give more attention to the canonically white countries."

To a certain extent, I get this rebuttal. We cannot solve racism or the privileging of the global north by reblogging Hetalia fanart of Seychelles and Cameroon. Everything I have described here is symptomatic of much, much larger issues that affect billions. But it's symptomatic: fandom is not immune to the ills of wider society. We do not shed our innate biases and prejudices when we enter supposedly apolitical spaces like fandom. In a series about personified nations, our prejudices and biases are naturally magnified because the source material’s nature is deeply political, dealing with history and personified nations and states.

Again I ask: What does it mean that the POC representation made by POCs is so often limited to racebending canonically white characters, in the context of the world order we live in where proximity to the West automatically confers certain privileges?

IMPORTANT: Refer to the section “The Myth of Multiculturalism” if you respond to this with “Are you saying depictions of Western-influenced POC experiences are a lesser form of representation?”

If that fails to convince you, and you still believe the inequality in reception between racebent and non-racebent nations doesn’t say anything deeper, I respond with the following- Isn’t it still worth it to try and show the same support and energy to the non-racebent, non-Western countries and their creators, regardless of whether that content speaks to you or not?

One last time, I’ll clarify what I’m not saying with that:

Stop liking America and Russia and England. I repeat, I cannot control what POC like or feel or do, and I repeat, what characters you personally like is a very individualistic view on a wider, systemic issue.

In the section “The State of POC Representation in Hetalia,” I discussed how disproportionately giving to racebent countries versus non-racebent non-Western countries is not an intersectional form of POC representation, and fails to address the underrepresentation of non-Western countries and cultures given the global colonial hierarchy. My above statement is therefore saying that if we POC want to achieve a more intersectional form of solidarity and representation, to create a fandom that’s more non-Western friendly, to generally support all types of POC creators, we should not neglect certain kinds of POC content just because it doesn’t personally resonate with us.

You don’t have to. Fandom is not activism. For many, fandom is an escape from the grim realities of the outside world. But in a media property all about exploring other countries’ cultures and histories, can we not strive for the spirit of the source material, and be a little more open-minded in exploring other countries and other forms of POC representation? Even in this miniscule way?

CONCLUSION

I would like to conclude this essay on the matter of irithnova, and the recent controversy she’s been embroiled in for stating many of the points I have made. Yes, our tones were different. But no amount of harsh tone warrants the outrage and rather racist backlash her post received. irithnova has been one of the most active voices in the Hetalia fandom speaking out against racism, from the exclusion of POC in j-ellyfish’s character polls to myrddin’s behavior. However, as soon as she, a Filipino, expresses personal discomfort with certain depictions of a nation that’s caused great harm to her people, other POC were the first to get mad at her for seeing the political implications of a POC personified America, to the point of trying to deny her reality as a feminized and racialized member of the diaspora living in a colonial European country and calling her functionally white.

POC solidarity doesn’t mean we have to all agree with each other, or even like every other POC. But I want to note the irony here of people committing the very act they accused irithnova of doing- telling her, a Filipino, that she wasn’t allowed to criticize racebent depictions of America, thereby trying to control POC.

If your response to this is “Well, sure irithnova didn’t deserve the harassment, but she was still wrong to criticize racebending because it wasn’t her place!” I would like to remind you of the following points:

Scroll up to the top and read this essay again. Regardless of tone used, there are valid reasons for POC to dislike and criticize depictions of racebent countries.

irithnova, as a Filipino living in the West and has Filipino relatives in the USA, is intimately aware of the nature of American imperialism and racism against POC. The United States promised to help the Philippines achieve independence but instead robbed it of its sovereignty, putting down resistance to its takeover and instituting American rule because they viewed Filipinos as “lesser” and incapable of governing themselves because of their race. If it isn’t irithnova’s place to feel uncomfortable (and thus criticize) racebent America, then whose is it?

Finally, I want to emphasize one more thing- First Nations/Indigenous individuals have a unique relationship to the colonial settler states that occupy their land. Like I’ve said so many times, I cannot tell any POC how to feel or what to do, and even more so in this case because I myself am not First Nations/Indigenous; I’ve only provided arguments about the pitfalls of racebending and the merits of other forms of representation. But just as how I cannot tell you what to feel or do, nobody can stop other POC feeling put off by a racebent America.

At the end of the day, despite the who-knows-how-many paragraphs I’ve spent articulating the reasons against racebending canonically white nations, I cannot stop anyone from racebending nations if they wish to. But I do hope readers come away with a better understanding of the flaws of racebending, and the benefits of looking away from the Western mainstream and looking elsewhere to represent our experiences as diaspora and minorities. If you’re someone who engages in racebending, but still chose to read this 6K word long essay on the Hetalia fandom, I can’t express my gratitude enough for hearing me out. Honestly, anybody who read through this entire post deserves an award- Thanks for reading 💖

#hetalia #Hetalia discourse

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mhahaikyuus · 2 years ago

Text

One Wish

tags:; established relationship, drinking, clubbing, fighting, mentions of jealousy, mentions of death (not serious at all dw), mentions of sex, mentions of breakup, reader has attitude, Shinso apologizes, protective Shinso

You were mad at him and decided to go out. Shinso was on your last nerve and you needed an hour to just decompress from his annoying presence. His nonchalant behavior and bored eyes as you fought only infuriated you more.

You were swallowing a vodka soda trying to get drunk tonight. Mina wanted to go to a bar tonight and you were not opposed.

You were on your fourth one and still throwing them back no problem.

Shinso saw you from the corner watching you gulp down the bitter drinks.

He made some comment with you earlier when you weren’t in the mood and you walked out of his apartment needing space. Unknown to you Kirishima also dragged him to a bar with Denki and you were at the bar with your pink friend. You looked pretty, his eyes trained on you as soon as he entered the bar. At the bar with a skimpy top and too short skirt with your hair pulled up he was entranced. If he knew you were in a good mood he would just approach you with a few grabby tricks to make you laugh. But you stormed out and he wanted to hold you to asleep tonight. It was his one wish tonight. To feel your soft body pressed up against him was his only goal. You were a stubborn thing, if you saw him you would just clam up and probably spend the night with Mina.

He decided to do the safest route and sit at a stool from the bar a few seats away. He kept sending over drinks until you noticed his familiar hair.

What was he doing here? You thought scooting your butt a few seats towards him with a bored look. Upset and now feeling the drinks he had sent over. Thinking it was another creepy guy trying to get your number but it was your boyfriend. You recognized his fluffy purple hair instantly once you saw the bartender told you who sent the drinks.

“What are you doing,” You whispered leaning your front half towards him. He smiled at you acknowledging him. “Just trying to treat my pretty girl.” He shrugged with a soft smile on his lips. Wrapping his arm around you. Letting a small breath at you acknowledging him.

“Don’t think you can give me a couple drinks and call me pretty names and that all is forgotten.” You sighed and his grip around your waist tightened.

“But that’s how I got you in the first place.” He protested giving you a cheek kiss to make your cheeks warm.

“You rolled your eyes at his words. That’s not funny.”

“I know i’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”

Before you could reply Mina wrapped her hand around your wrist and yanked you from his grasp w was to the dance floor.

Apologizing was the first step but that mean you weren’t still mad at him.

Him buying you a drink literally meant nothing to you. Random ugly guys buy you drinks at the bar all the time, it’s one of the few perks of being a pretty girl. Right now Shinso wasn’t any different.

Shinso was near you but not close enough for you to notice. Any guy that looked liked he wanted to get with you was met with Shinso’s scary eyes and immediately backed down. A girl came up to him and Shinso shut it down immediately.

“Hey what’s your name?” She asked batting her eyelashes at him. Shinso had his eyes trained on you not even sparing the poor girl a glance. “No, I’m happily in a relationship.”

She moved away from him defeated and he continued to watch you drink.

You went past your limit that night. Not even caring how you got home. Turns out drinking 8 to 9 drinks and group shots really is an unexpected punch in the mouth.

You were groaning on the toilet letting your senses flood you. Realizing how badly you had messed up the second you sat down on the seat.

Shinso fortunately had kept a close eye on you and currently waiting for you outside the stall waiting with a bottle of water in his hand for you. You stumbled out of the stall and Shinso had a firm grip on your waist steading your balance in your heels.

“What are you doing here?” You asked washing your hands in the dirty sink, feeling his eyes on you.

“I don’t care if you’re mad at me. I’m still your boyfriend and I’d like to think I’m pretty good at it. And that includes watching you when you’re drunk even if you’re ignoring me.” He explained still a tight grip on your waist.

You turned off the sink and turned into his grasp. He lifted you up on the sink with your legs swinging.

“Here.” He said cracking open the bottle and motioning for you to open your mouth.

You titled your head back and he poured water in until you pressed your lips together and swallowed.

“Thank you baby.” You hummed using your thumb to swipe the excess water from the corners of your mouth.

Shinso had both hands trapping your body in between him and the sink. Leaning over you with his height as you were too drunk to care.

He raised his eyebrows, “I’m baby now?”

You laughed, “No im baby and you’re a jerk.” You corrected yourself.

Shinso was having a hard time breathing being so close to you and not being able to touch you. He could still catch whiffs of your alluring perfume even after a whole night of dancing. Usually you dragged him in this bathroom and he would do sinful things to you in front of the mirror or against the wall.

Now you were barely letting him so close without getting snippy with him.

He really wish you didn’t wear the outfit on your body tonight.

A skimpy top with no bra and scrap of fabric called a mini skirt. It was killing him to see you look like that. Showing off all your curves and skin in all the right places. You looked too good for him to not do anything but you were too drunk. A dopey smile on your face and swinging feet was much different than your scowling annoyed face made just for him. The necklace he bought you was still dangling in between your breasts and a charmed anklet still strapped your ankle. Signaling you were still his. He couldn’t look down because he was in between your legs and he could see what lacy underwear you weren’t wearing.

He groaned gently placing his head on your shoulder, “You’re killing me you know that.”

You looked down at your body and frowned in confusion.

“What? Oh shit are my nipples out?” You asked before flashing you’re already struggling boyfriend who could not take his eyes off your breasts he hadn’t had the pleasure in seeing for a while.

“What do they look weird?” You joked with a cocky smirk as Shinso tried to subtly adjust his pants and failing. You pulled down your top with a laugh.

Shinso pressed his eyes together at your words restraining himself. He was going to drag you into the stall if he didn’t get you home quickly. “Come on let me fix you and go home.”

“We don’t have a home. You live in your apartment. I’m staying with Mina tonight. I’ll move my stuff out soon so you won’t have to be bothered with me anymore.” You countered bringing up the past argument.

Shinso pressed his lips together trying to not feel hurt at your words and sighed. “Okay I deserve that. I’m sorry can I please take you out of here now.”

You shrugged, “I might go home with someone else tonight.”

Shinso raised his eyebrows and laughed, “I don’t care how mad you are. If you think I’m letting you go home with another man you’re out of your mind. I’ll go to prison before you go home with a another guy.”

“Prison huh?”

“I will kill a man for putting his hands on you without hesitation.” Shinso said with a dark look in his eye and knuckles gripping the sink, still surrounding your body.

“I should probably tell the guy waiting for me outside he should hide.” You said with a smug smile.

He grabbed your jaw with his large hand “You’re not funny.” He frowned

“Why do you care, all I do is bother you.” You snipped masking the hurt in your eyes but Shinso knew better.

“Yes you do bother me and you’re a pain in my ass.” He sighed

“Thank you for repeating that you’re such a good boyfriend!” You laughed

“You’re a fucking brat but I love you and that pain in my ass more than anything and no one else can have it.” He said holding your jaw with one hand, your cheeks squished. Leaning down giving you a long kiss that made your knees weak at the passion.

“Okay.” You said with a smile. You were blacked out drunk so he was taking everything you said not serious at all.

“Can you drink anymore?” He asked rubbing your back as you swallowed more water from the bottle.

“Thank you.” You said handing him the empty bottle.

“Alright i’m taking you home sweetheart.” He said gripping your waist and helping you down. You slung your hands over his broad shoulders for support and you leaned into him. Completely forgetting what you said less than a minute ago.

“Love I can’t feel my legs.” You complained unable to stand up right and he picked you up without hesitancy.

Shinso walked out of the bar holding your purse and your legs wrapped around his waist too tired to walk.

Mina and Kirishima waved goodbye. You waving from behind his shoulder at your friends, not going to remember your exit in the morning.

Shinso gently put you on the bed and you flopped like a dead fish.

He tugged you upright and pushed your head through one of his shirts and held out another glass of water for you to take.

You groaned turning your head away, and he pushed it into your hands.

“You’ll thank me tomorrow now drink.”

“Can’t… I just sleep, Toshi” You whined sipping on the water as he unstrapped off your shoes. The use of his nickname made him have hope in the morning you wouldn’t kill him.

He kissed your anklet before taking the empty bottle from you and turning you so you were sleeping correctly. Kissing your forehead and ran his hands through your hair lulling you asleep. Your body limp and feeling the spins as you closed your eyes.

The world was turning dark and your eyelids couldn’t open but your ears heard him backing away.

“Where are you going.” You grumbled into your pillow arm stretched out for his touch.

“On the couch, you’re still mad.” He said as he changed into his own clothes getting ready for bed.

“No, I want to cuddle. Hold me” You yawned and he walked over to your hand and gripped it.

“Are you sure?” He asked

“Mhm.” You said as unconsciousness overtook you.

Shinso climbed into bed as the big spoon wrapping his long arms around yours and hooking a leg over yours.

He got his wish.

#mha imagines #my hero academia #mha #mha scenarios #mha x reader #shinso hitoshi #shinsou x reader #hitoshi x y/n #hitoshi x you #my hero academia shinso

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kingexpl0sionmurder · 4 years ago

Text

Body Electric - Kaminari Denki - Smut

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Pairing: Kaminari Denki/F!Reader Rating: 18+ (contains smut) Words: 5,491 Warnings: Sex work (Cam boy/girl), Quirkless AU, Aged-up Adult characters (someone is in grad school! wow!), mentions of masturbation (both male and female), mentions of casual ShinKami, established KiriBaku, Idk they are all just really sexually liberated and don’t care about watching each other cum. Is that voyeurism? I’m bad at tagging things. Title taken from a Lana Del Rey song. AN: Another BNHarem collab piece! The theme was sex work, and I have wanted to do a camboy Denki for a long time so here we go. This was really smutty in my head but Denki makes me soft and it turned out really cute in the end, I’m sorry? He’s such a dork I feel like any sexual encounter with him would just turn out like this in some way, idk. Thanks to @unbreakablekiribaku and @sailorsero as usual for being supportive of me. Happy birthday to @lady-bakuhoe and @burnedbyshoto 🎂🎂 There is no one else I would rather be birthday triplets with!

Please check out the Collab Masterlist: HERE Look 👀 at My Masterlist: HERE Buy me a Kofi if you’re scared of clowns too: HERE

---

Sighing, you sat up on your elbows, squinting at the chat on the screen, willing your heart to stop pounding and your breath to even out. The donations were pouring in, the chat moving so fast you couldn’t even read it. “Alright, lovelies, I hope you enjoyed that. Be right back and we’ll chat a little bit, okay?”

Donations popped up, the chat slowing a little as the clients who only came to jerk off to you left, leaving those who considered themselves true fans. You stood and made your way to the bathroom to pee, rinsing your toy off in the sink and washing your hands. You went back to your room, pulling on a hoodie and settling in front of the screen again.

“Alright, I’m back! I have some time for a few questions and then I have to go for the night. Let me see what we got!” You scanned the chat, ignoring the normal inappropriate questions. Mindfucker: Do you know who Chargebolt is? Cause I heard he watches your stream.

Your heart, which had finally slowed to a normal rhythm, picked up again. You most definitely knew who Chargebolt was. You gave him a good amount of money from your donations when you watched his cam shows yourself. “I do actually, he’s pretty popular on here, isn’t he?” You sat back a little, furrowing your brows. “How do you know he watches me?”

RedDaddy: He did a Q&A and mentioned your channel! Told everyone to check you out.

You recognized the names of the viewers and knew they were also regulars on Chargebolt’s streams as well, so you believed them. Chargebolt was gorgeous and funny, just your type. The knowledge that he was interested in you enough to watch you get off on camera was flattering. You hoped your blush wasn’t showing on your face.

“I’m surprised he knows who I am!” You had missed the last Q&A he’d done, since it hadn’t been on his normal streaming day, and you’d been stuck at work late. Leaning forward again, you bit your lip, looking into the camera from under your lashes. “Can I tell you guys a secret? I watch him, too. Why do you think I never do shows on Thursdays? That’s Chargebolt day.” With a wink you sat back, trying to will the blush from your cheeks. Mindfucker: I knew it! I bet he’s watching right now. You smiled, shrugging. “I hope he enjoyed the show, then!” You tried to hold it together, suppressing the urge to burst into a fit of giggles at the thought, answering a few more silly questions from your regulars, before signing off for the night, promising to be back again the following week.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, leaning your head back and groaning. It was wild that the guy whose cam shows you watched on the regular, the one who had inspired you to start your own, who you thought of half the time when you were filming yourself getting off on camera for strangers, knew who you were and was one of your viewers.

It brought you down a whole rabbit hole for a second, wondering if he got off on you getting off. Why else would he watch? Did he ever donate? You assumed he had a secondary account so you wouldn’t know it was him even if you tried to look at your past viewers, just like you had a secret account so you could watch him as well.

Cracking your eyes open, you clicked to view the donation tallies for the evening. You’d made enough to pay the rent on your apartment for the month in just one night. Sometimes you wondered how you ever managed to survive before you started doing this. It was meant to be a temporary side job, but you’d been running this cam channel under the screen name Neko for over six months, and you had clawed your way out of debt in such a short time, it didn’t make sense for you to stop.

You viewed a few more visitor stats with interest, before logging off the computer and shutting the laptop. You had to get to sleep for your real job in the morning, so you figured it was time for bed, pushing thoughts of Chargebolt to the back of your mind for now.

It wasn’t until later when you were lying down to sleep, that you thought of him again. Your eyes closed as you ran through a scenario in your head, wondering if he would mention you on Thursday, and what would come of all this? You had noticed your viewer numbers had spiked that day, so it was definitely beneficial that you’d caught his eye. You just weren’t sure what would happen next.

Denki was grinning into the camera, wiping the cum off of his abs with the towel he kept beside him, his chest and cheeks flushed pink. He adjusted in his chair, tugging the toy out of his hole and chucking it to the side, pulling his boxers back up over his softening cock. “I hope it was as good for you as it was for me, babes.”

He chuckled at the comments flooding the chat as he reached for his water and took a sip.

Tapeman: As always, you never disappoint me, Chargebolt.

“Hey thanks, Tapeman! I appreciate you always coming to hang out...get it? Coming?”

Mindfucker: Ridiculous.

“Aw, you love me, Mindfucker.” He winked at the camera. “So, did you guys enjoy my Q&A the other day?”

The chat filled with praise, making him grin. He loved to talk to his fans, and sometimes they had some great questions for him. He knew a lot of people just watched him as a way to get off, but he liked to give a little piece of himself to them because he knew that most of the people who watched were probably lonely, and he wanted to help with that in some way. He kept things laid back, joking and laughing with his viewers before and after the show, taking requests and doing his best to remember some of the regulars. Some of the few who had been with him from the beginning he’d made into moderators to help with keeping things somewhat orderly in the chat. Some of them he actually knew in real life, like his roommate Hitoshi, who used the alias Mindfucker.

Mindfucker: So are we going to talk about Neko? Denki’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, you mean the stream the other day? It was…” He made the appropriate motion as he said it. “Chef’s kiss, immaculate. She’s so beautiful…” Trailing off, he let himself think back to the way your chest heaved and the face you made when you came. “I would do anything for her, man.”

RedDaddy: Dude, I agree! She’s also super sweet, like, the total package.

Sighing, he leaned his elbow on the desk, his cheek resting on his palm. “I am a simp, my guy.” He sat up, squinting at the chat. “She said she watches, right? Is she here right now?” He scanned the names of the viewers, frowning. “She probably has a second account. Well, if you’re here, Neko, you should hit me up. I read all of my DM’s okay?” He grinned, winking again. “Alright, I have to go feed the cats so I’m outie 5000, thanks for hanging out and I’ll see you guys next week!”

He said his goodbyes, ending the stream and sighing. He wiped off his toy with the towel and clicked through his stats for the day, smiling at some of the comments that came with the donations. Hitoshi came into his room a few minutes later, holding one of the cats, an orange tabby named Miso, in his arms. “I fed them, you don’t have to.”

Was it weird that his roommate watched him fuck himself on toys and jerk off on the internet on a weekly basis? Nope. Denki had forgone all sense of modesty when it came to sex a long time ago, and Hitoshi was the same. It helped that they fucked around on occasion, best friends who got lonely and lived together sometimes did that, he guessed. Or maybe they were weird. It was whatever, he didn’t like to think about it too much.

“What would I do without you, Toshi?”

“Kill the cats, probably.” He deadpanned, leaning in the doorway. “Burn all the toast you try to make, buy the wrong peanut butter, eat Cheese-Itz for breakfast every day, forget to pay the cable bill.” He raised his eyebrows. “I can keep going.”

“Fuck off, I got the all-natural peanut butter once, it was an accident!” Denki threw his soiled towel into the laundry basket by the closet and picked up the toy he’d used, waving it around a bit. “Did you enjoy the stream?”

Hitoshi snorted, eyeing the dildo warily. “I didn’t really watch, I had my eye on the chat. I was looking for Neko.”

“Man, I can’t believe she’s a fan!” He waved the dildo some more, watching as it jiggled. “I would let her do unspeakable things to me.”

“Look out, your sub is showing, Denki.” Hitoshi teased. “But I agree, she’s pretty great. I wonder if she’ll ever do private shows.” Pausing to scritch Miso behind the ears, he continued. “I’m sure they’d be in high demand.”

Denki stood, pointing at Hitoshi with the dildo. He really needed to put it down somewhere and stop brandishing it around like a sword. “Don’t even, I’d spend all my money on that girl.”

“I know you would.” He chuckled. “I did try to go through the usernames and see if I could find out who she could be, but I didn’t have any luck.”

“It’s okay! I’m leaving it up to fate now, man. If the universe wants us to know each other, we will.” He stuck his thumb towards the ensuite. “I’m going to wash my ass and then we can play Among Us if you want.”

Hitoshi, completely unphased as usual, nodded. “I’ll get a team together. Check the discord when you get out.”

Humming, Denki made his way to the bathroom, picking up his phone on the way. It buzzed as he closed the door, and he glanced down to see he had a message from his other moderator and friend, Eijirou, aka RedDaddy. Tossing the dildo in the sink, he looked down at the screen and opened the message.

Eiji: No luck on finding Neko on the stream, but she said she never misses a Thursday, so I bet she was there.

Denki: Thanks for keeping an eye out, man. I appreciate you. Among us in 30?

Eiji: Bet. I’ll ask Kats to play too.

Your next stream day had you feeling nervous. Chargebolt had talked directly at you on his last stream, asking you to slide into his DMs, and you had yet to take him up on it. You didn’t know what you were so scared of, Chargebolt was a nice guy. You chalked it up to the fear of the unknown. If you sent him a message, what would you even say? ‘Hey dude, nice cock?’ It was bound to be a disaster.

Pushing your nerves back down, you made sure you were ready for your stream, excited for the news you were about to drop on your viewers. You were needing a little extra cash due to some unfortunate car trouble, and you’d figured out a way to make up what you needed in record time.

“Hey everyone, welcome!” You smiled at the camera, waving your fingers. “Thanks for coming! I see a lot of familiar names here tonight. Hi Mindfucker, Dynamight, RedDaddy, Tapeman, LightningMcQueen!”

LightningMcQueen: Hey, beautiful! I’ve been looking forward to this all week.

Dynamight: Chill out, McQueen, you look desperate.

RedDaddy: Be nice, Dynamight. Hi, Neko!

Dynamight: Fuck off, Shittyhair.

Mindfucker: How’s your cat, Neko?

“Be good, Dynamight. You’re lucky I know you don’t mean that!” You giggled at the antics of your regulars, smiling at the question about your cat. “Ichigo is doing good, Mindfucker, thanks for asking! I’ll bring her on camera after the show if you want to say hi!”

Minfucker just sent a cat emoji and you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m beginning to think that you’re just here for Ichigo and not me.”

The chat went crazy with people denying it, telling you how much they loved watching you every week. You lit up, feeling more excited about your news.

“So I have something I want to discuss before we get started today. I’ve decided I want to try out doing some private shows, so I’m going to be offering up a few spots. I’m going to give some of my longest and most frequent supporters a shot first, and if all goes well, then I’ll open them up to the rest of you! I’ll be adding a signup link at the bottom of my page after tonight’s stream, so if you’re interested you can apply and I’ll pick a few of you and we’ll work out a schedule! How does that sound?”

Dynamight: McQueen already has his credit card ready I bet.

“Aw, you don’t want to play with me, Dynamight?” You teased, giving the camera your best pout.

Dynamight: You couldn’t handle me, Princess.

LightningMcQueen: Hush. You’re a bottom, Dyna.

Dynamight: Die you fucking extra.

LightningMcQueen: Love you too, blasty.

“I was going to let you pick the toy today, Dynamight, but if you can’t behave then I’m just going to have to let someone else have a turn.” You gave the camera a disapproving look, frowning. You’d picked up that these guys were friends, so you knew they were just messing with each other.

A donation popped up from Dynamight with a comment attached.

Let McQueen choose this time, babe.

“It looks like Dynamight is going to let you choose, McQueen. Which one?” You pulled over the box you kept your toys in and showed it to the camera. “Pick a color.”

LightningMcQueen: Yellow

You pulled the yellow silicone out of the box and showed it to the chat, smirking. “I call this one Chargebolt because it’s the same color as his hair. Are you sure this is the one you want me to use?”

When your stream ended, Denki leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath. The fact that he’d watched you fuck yourself with a dildo that you’d named after him was the hottest thing he could have imagined. He was jealous of that piece of bright yellow silicone more than he should be. He’d still enjoyed it, if the mess across his abs and chest were any indication.

He cleaned himself up and pulled on a shirt, clicking on the link for the private show signup. It was pretty straightforward, listing the price and how long the show would be, and asking for his username and what he would be interested in doing or seeing and what day would work best.

Staring at the form for a moment, he contemplated his options. He could sign up with his LightningMcQueen account, and he might have a chance. He was the first one out of his friends to find your channel one night when he was bored and horny. Then he’d shown it to Hitoshi and then shared your info with Eijirou, Katsuki, and Hanta. He would be considered one of the longest and loyal viewers like you had said.

However, if you got a request from Chargebolt? What would you do? Would you ignore it?

“Toshi!” He called out, knowing his roommate would hear him without him having to get up. “I’m having a crisis!”

The door opened, and the purple-haired man stood in the doorway. “I am not prepared to handle your bi panic right now, Denki.”

“Are you going to put in for a private show from Neko?” Denki pushed on, ignoring his friend’s exasperation.

“I spoke that into existence last week, you know. You’re welcome.”

Flopping back in his chair, Denki closed his eyes. “Should I send in the request with this account or with the Chargebolt one?”

Hitoshi shrugged, watching their cat Sashimi wander into the room. “You’ve wanted to talk to her for ages, man. You could have messaged her forever ago and you wouldn’t be playing this game with her. Sign up with your actual account.”

“I mean, she must think I’m cute, right? Otherwise, she wouldn’t watch.” He sat up, logging out of his secondary account and into his main one. He had a few unread DM’s, so he clicked, his breath catching in his throat. “Dude, look.”

There was a message from you, short but sweet.

Hi, Chargebolt. I don’t know if you saw the stream today, but you should check it out if you haven’t. I left it up for you.”

“She wants you to see her use that dildo she named after you.” Hitoshi patted his shoulder, and then bent down to pick up Sashimi. “I signed up but I told her I just wanted to have a date with her cat. She probably won’t pick me.”

“She will, she loves cats.” Denki clicked on your page and scrolled down to the bottom where the signup was again, letting it populate his main account in the information, and writing ‘any day except Thursday’ in the section for the time that worked for him. “I’m going to get this girl to date me, just you watch.”

Snorting, his roommate closed the door behind him as he left. “I believe in you, Pikachu.”

Once his request was submitted, he went back to his DM’s and sent you a message back.

“I was there, Neko. I never miss a stream. I submitted for a private show, so I hope you’ll pick me. I’ve been one of your viewers since the beginning, you know.”

---

In your head, you tried to plan what you would say once you were face to face (via camera) with the one and only Chargebolt. Everything your brain seemed to come up with fell short. What did you say to this guy, who you’d been simping over for over 9 months, who lit up your screen every Thursday with terrible puns and panty-dropping smiles? You knew exactly what he looked like and sounded like when he came. It was a strange thing to think that you knew that but you’d never actually spoken to him before.

It made you feel a little better when you realized he knew just as much about you. That he watched you fuck yourself on a dildo you’d named after him, and then spent the rest of the stream showing off your fluffy white cat Ichigo.

It was time to put on your big girl panties. You could do this.

Chargebolt had been one of the few that you’d chosen to do these shows with. He was also the last one. You’d met with 4 others, the ones who were the most active in your chat, the ones you assumed were actually friends.

Your first one was with Tapeman, who asked you to call him Sero. He was cute, with the widest, prettiest smile you’d ever seen. He made you laugh, and called you beautiful, and spoke to you in Spanish. You didn’t feel uncomfortable once with him, and the experience gave you hope that the rest would be just as nice.

Mindfucker was next, whose name was Shinsou and lowkey your favorite one. He didn’t want anything sexual at all, which surprised you. You sat with him and drank tea and you got to meet his two fur children, Miso and Sashimi, while he told you about his roommate. You let him admire Ichigo, and talked about music. He was sarcastic, but not in a mean way, and you were pretty sure he was going to be your new best friend.

RedDaddy and Dynamight had asked to do theirs together since they were dating. You wanted to question why they both watched your stream but RedDaddy, who was actually named Kirishima, answered it for you.

“We’re both bi, and we think you’re cute!”

“Yeah, plus McQueen has a thing for you so we like to be in the chat to help him out.” Dynamite, aka Bakugou, added in his gruff voice, folding his arms across his chest.

“Aw, that’s sweet!” You smiled at them. “He didn’t request a private show though, so I guess he doesn’t like me that much.”

Bakugou coughed and Kirishima grinned. “Maybe he was nervous! I’m sure you’ll meet him in one of these someday!”

“Enough about that dumbass.” Bakugou leaned forward, his hand on Kirishima’s knee. “Give us a show and we’ll give you one in return. Use that orange and green one for me, Princess.”

And give you a show they did. You got lost in how they looked at each other while they jerked each other off, and you were pretty sure they forgot you were even there at some point. When it was over, you suggested that they start their own channel.

Bakugou scoffed, but you could tell he was blushing a bit.

“I don’t know, Neko. I don’t think I could share him with anyone else. Except you, you’re the exception.” Kirishima grinned, winking at you.

But now it was Chargebolt’s turn. You made sure you had everything you needed, making sure Ichigo was out of the room, and then signed into your account.

Chargebolt was online, so you made the private room and sent him the request. You felt like you were shaking, and you checked yourself in the camera to make sure you didn’t look like a wreck.

You barely had time to breathe before he entered the chat, his camera screen coming to life and showing you his smiling face. You melted a bit, biting your lip, gazing at how attractive he was.

“Hey, Neko!” Chargebolt was as vibrant as ever, tucking his hair behind his ears, the black lightning bolt in his hair dark against the bright yellow of the rest of it.

“It’s nice to see you, Chargebolt.” You tried to relax, rolling your shoulders back. “It’s kind of weird knowing you can see me too.”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. You tried not to stare at his arms in the tank top he was wearing. Chargebolt had a small frame, but his muscles were defined. You’d seen him plow through an entire bag of chips on stream once, without pausing to breathe, so you assumed he must be one of those people with amazing metabolism that you envied. “You can call me Denki if you want, kitten.”

You choked on air at the nickname, trying to compose yourself. “Kitten?”

“Well, Neko means cat, doesn’t it?” He raised an eyebrow. “I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”

“No!” You practically shouted. “No, I mean, it’s fine. I like it.”

“Sweet.” He grinned. “Man, I’ve wanted to get you alone like this for so long, and now I’m just feeling really nervous.”

“You’re nervous?” You were surprised. The always cool but super dorky Chargebolt was nervous because of you? “So am I.”

Chargebolt- sorry, Denki, rested his elbow on the desk, propping his head in his hand. “Well, glad to know I’m not the only disaster here. I’ve been trying to get the courage to talk to you for months, and then finally Hitoshi got me to talk about you on stream a few weeks ago, and now here we are.”

“Who’s Hitoshi? One of your regulars?” Knowing that you weren’t the only one who was sweating bullets had you relaxing a bit.

“Oh yeah, Mindfucker! You know him right? He did a thing with you the other day, didn’t he?”

Eyes wide, you stared at him. “Shinsou?”

“Yeah, that’s my best friend and my roommate. He said he showed you the cats.” He shrugged. “You picked all my friends for your private shows. Sero, Kiri, Bakugou, Shinsou.” He paused, smirking. “I forgot that you don’t know that I’m LightningMcQueen.”

“That’s you? I was wondering why they didn’t send me a request, but it all makes sense now.”

Denki shot you finger guns and winked. “Kachow!”

“Oh god, stop it.” You rolled your eyes.

He chuckled, grinning at you. “So, did Shinsou talk about me?”

You giggled, remembering back. “He told me a story about how his roommate mistook a fuzzball for a spider and spent the afternoon sitting on a table waiting for him to come home and kill it.”

“It looked like one of those freaky poisonous ones from where I was sitting. I was afraid to let it out of my sight in case it got away and then multiplied and killed me in my sleep or something.” He took a deep breath. “Spiders are terrifying.”

This man was amazing. “You are everything I always thought you’d be, you know that?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He sighed. “You have to have some kind of embarrassing story to tell me so I don’t feel like a fool. You’ve got to make it even.”

“One year my dad hired a clown to come to my birthday party. He walked in the front door and I jetted out the back door and hid in the garden until he left. Clowns are just as terrifying as spiders.”

Chargebolt laughed, and the sound made your stomach do a somersault. It was just as bright and happy as he was. “That is the cutest shit I’ve ever heard!”

“I’m glad my childhood trauma is amusing you.” You deadpanned, trying to keep the smile off your face.

“Aw, don’t be like that kitten! I’m glad we can bond over our irrational fears like this, you know?” He

You shivered happily. “Okay, okay.” You cleared your throat. “So, you didn’t write anything down here for what you wanted out of our chat today.”

“Oh, okay, down to business then.” He sat up straight. “Well, I wanted to tell you myself instead of submitting it on the form.”

Intrigued, you raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t want to give me a chance to back out?”

Snorting, and shook his head. “Nah, I think you’ll like it, kitten.” He folded his hands behind his head. “I want you to tell me what to do. I’m at your mercy.”

Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him. That was...really hot. “You like being told what to do?”

“I would love nothing more for you to pull my hair and peg me within an inch of my life while calling me your little cock slut.” He stared at you with an eyebrow raised, looking pleased with himself when he saw your expression.

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, right? I mean, I’m a switch, I’d do the same to you if you asked. But we can save that for next time.” He smirked. “So, you down?”

Next time? This man was going to kill you. “Take off your shirt, Denki.”

“Fuck yes.” He groaned, reaching behind him and tugging the garment over his head.

His chest and abs came into view, and you let your eyes linger on the barbells through his nipples. “Pants too.”

He pushed his chair away from his desk and shimmied out of his shorts, kicking them to the side. You gazed at him in his blue boxer briefs, eyes lingering on his thin waist, strong thighs, and the outline of his cock. He was a sight to behold, honestly.

You held the fangirling back, leaning forward to get a better look at him. “Do you have any toys, Denki?”

“Of course, Kitten.” He moved out of view for a moment, coming back with a box.

“Let me see.” He tilted the box towards the camera, your eyes flitting over the different colors and shapes inside. “The pink one.”

“Okay, hang on, let me-” He cut off, standing up and throwing the pink toy on the bed. He picked up the laptop and moved it, laying down beside it and angling the camera so you could see what he was doing.

“Did you stretch yourself, baby?”

He made a noise that sounded like a whine in the back of his throat at the pet name, obviously pleased by it. “Yeah, of course I did.” He glanced at the screen. “You should, uh, take your shirt off too.”

“I thought you wanted me to tell you what to do, not the other way around.” Teasing him, you crossed your arms over your chest.

He pouted slightly. “I’ve been good so far though, right?”

“All you’ve done is take off two items of clothing and move to the bed. You’re gonna have to work harder than that!”

Huffing, he lifted his ass off the bed and tugged his underwear down his legs, kicking them off, his hand already moving to wrap around his already hard cock.

“Did I say you could touch yourself, Denki?” It was getting hard to keep up the stern act you were putting on, but you knew it was what he wanted. You wanted to watch him touch himself, watch the way his eyes fluttered closed when his thumb brushed over the leaking head of his cock, and the way he would bite his lip when he moved his wrist a certain way.

You could be patient though, so you continued.

“If I was there right now, what would you want me to do first?”

He stilled, blinking at you a few times. “I would want your mouth first, I think.”

Humming, you sat back, pulling your shirt over your head, letting him admire the lacey purple bra covering your chest. “You’d want my mouth on your cock? Trace my tongue along that vein along the underside and suck on the head a little?”

Denki groaned, closing his eyes, his grip visibly tightening around his shaft. He looked like he was trying not to get worked up too fast. You were amazed at how your words were affecting him, so you pressed on.

“I’d take you all the way down until I was choking on it, and I’d let you hold onto my hair and fuck my face. God, you don’t know how many times I've dreamed about doing that for you. What would you say to that?”

The blush spreading down his neck and chest made him look so pretty. “Ugh, fuck kitten, you’re killing me.” He swallowed hard, opening his eyes to look at you again. “I’d tell you how good you made me feel, but I wouldn’t let you finish me off that way.”

“Oh no? Tell me what else you’d do.” You took the opportunity to move to the bed yourself, pulling off your leggings and panties all at once.

Eyes glued to you while you unclipped your bra and threw it across the room, he continued. “Fuck, um, I would...god, you’re beautiful.”

Flushing at the compliment, you looked down shyly, breaking character. “I’ve heard you say that before and I still don’t believe it.”

Denki scoffed. “If you need a daily reminder, I’d be happy to be the one to tell you, kitten.” You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it made your heart do a little flip. “I might seem like a dumbass but I’m using this camboy money to pay off my student loans for my masters in English lit so I can quote you entire sonnets from Shakespeare without hesitation if that will help you believe me.”

Your eyebrows shot up, impressed. Realizing you’d ruined the moment, you sighed, covering your eyes with your hand. “I’m sorry, I’m crap at this. I really just want to watch you cum.”

Chuckling, you heard him shifting on the bed. “Okay, how about this? Forget the toys. Just close your eyes and listen to me.”

“Okay.”

“If you were here with me right now, just like that, I’d spend so much time exploring every inch of you with my tongue. I’d start with your lips, your jaw, your neck. Collarbones, shoulders, your chest, those cute nipples-”

“How are nipples cute?” You interrupted with a snort.

You could hear him trying not to laugh, his voice pitched a bit higher. “Shh, don’t ruin it.”

“I think you just did when you said ‘cute nipples’.” You’d never had this much fun with someone in a situation like this. “If I had a dick, my boner would have just died.”

Denki wheezed, and you opened your eyes to look over at him. He was gazing back at you, his eyes bright as he laughed into his palm. “God, I like you so much, kitten.”

Your grin softened, your heart pounding at his words. “Me too, Denki.”

#kaminari denki #kaminari denki x reader #kaminari denki smut #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #denki kaminari smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #kingexpl0sionmurder writes #bnharem collab

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dreamcatcherrs · 4 years ago

Text

august - ranboo x reader

+ disclaimer! I don't know if ranboo actually has a cat :)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ranboo x f!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: ranboo can’t help but to blush every time you look at him, not realising that he was falling even harder for you than he realised.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.478

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none :)

song recommendation: august - taylor swift

the first time he’d spotted you was in science class, near the end of the school year. that one time you looked up and smiled at him because of something stupid he’d said to his friend, that you for some reason found funny - he couldn’t stop thinking of that smile for the rest of the day. the image of you stuck in his head.

the next time he saw you was in p.e. you were wearing those pretty red sports shorts that you always wore, but he for some reason had never noticed until now. and whenever you’d walk or run past him, the smell of vanilla would follow behind you, filling his nostrils with the scent, and it felt heavenly. from that day on, he decided that he really liked the smell of vanilla.

weeks went by before you first talked to him. you were sat behind him and had poked his shoulder to ask him if he had a spare pencil for you to borrow. he breathed in, eyes wide from surprise. were you talking to him? it was only when you tilted your head to the side with a playful smile on your face that he realised he’d been zoned out, completely forgetting that he had to respond.

“uh- yeah, sure.” he’d fumbled with his backpack, trying to fish out his pencil case only to remember… he didn't have one. he moved his hands back again, looking back up at you as you leaned over the table with a patient smile on your face. “uhm… actually, I don't have one either.”

that made you laugh, and he was just confused, cheeks turning red in embarrassment. “well, I guess I can't really complain about that,” you giggled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “I’m y/n, by the way. we have science together, I just don't think we ever got the chance to talk.” he grabbed the hand you’d put out to shake, staring into your bright eyes as you shook his hand. were there stars in your eyes? it looked like there was a whole other universe in there.

“I guess not-”

“hey, you two. eyes up here.” mr. jefferson, you douche-

“sorry mr. jefferson!” you apologised, before turning to send him a playful smile. as if you two had a secret that no one else knew about. he wondered if that smile was always able to get you out of trouble. he thought about it for a while as mr. jefferson explained the different historic sculptures, and then came to the conclusion, that no one could be mad at a person with such a smile for very long.

“aww, you never told me you had a kitty!”

he threw his backpack onto the arm chair in his living room, letting out an exasperated sigh as you followed behind him, or rather, followed his cat behind him. he turned around to see you crouched down beside his cat, softly petting it with the cutest smile on your face.

“yeah. pretty cute, right?” he joined you by petting the purring creature, heart bubbling with how cute the sight in front of him was. he wasn't just talking about the cat.

“well, should we get started?” you asked, shrugging your own backpack off and getting out a small notebook. he’d noticed you wrote in it a couple of times during the class before.

you’d both been assigned for a science project together - what a coincidence. he wasn't complaining though - not at all. you’d had fun times together in class since, now being sat beside each other. you’d gone to his place to put in some extra work ethic. “you’re lucky I actually like science! then we’ll get some work done.”

you plopped down on his couch, taking in the comfiness for a moment, before fishing out your computer. “are you implying something?” you giggled at his question, lifting a finger at him.

“that I do all of the work in science class while you sit and stare at me? yes.”

a wave of heat flooded over him, cheeks and ears turning red and his palms sweating up. was it that obvious?

you patted the spot on the couch beside you for him to sit down, a small smile etched onto your face. he did so, finding a comfortable way to sit in before looking over at your computer screen. you turned you head to him, scooting closer when you noticed he could barely see your screen. as if that would help his sweaty armpits and rosy cheeks…

“okay, do you remember our lesson about polar and non-polar electronegativity?” his face was blank. the words were foreign to him. was that the day you wore that pink lipstick? or did he just think that because he thought it looked so good on you?

you rolled your eyes playfully at his lack of response, proceeding to point at the screen and explain to him what it means. he listened to start off with, but then soon realised that his thoughts had drifted off to another place, eyes gazing over to look at you instead of the screen. and instead of listening, he started thinking about the way your lips moved - how cute and perfect they were. and how much he wanted to kiss them.

he lost his train of thought when you turned your head to him again, a frown on your face when noticing how lost in thought he was, clearly not paying attention, yet your look of disbelief quickly turned into a surprised expression. was he looking at you?

“you’re not listening.”

he looked bewildered for a moment, but quickly managed to clear his throat awkwardly, eyes turning to the screen again. “sorry.”

you began to explain again, and this time he only glanced over at you once when... was that blush on your cheeks?

the first time he kissed you was one month later, summer break. you were at the local park, basking in the rays of sun as the summer was soon to end. the smell of freshly mowed grass was all that filled your nostrils, and the fresh breeze every now and then was enough to keep you from melting under the heat of the sun.

you were sat at a nice waterfall, your backs turned towards it as you ate the sandwiches you had just bought. the sound of water trickling out of the different places on the statue was pleasant for your ears, peaceful really.

he’d gone to push his longer hair out of his face, and then rest his hand beside him, in the middle of the two of you. but instead of meeting a cold surface, his hand met your soft one, that was already resting right where he was about to put his hand.

he heard you gasp softly, head turning to look down at your hands. he looked back at you with wide eyes, which you quickly returned when realizing what had happened, a rosy colour spreading over your cheeks. and right then, he couldn’t help himself. he knew you hadn’t known each other for that long, but he knew you. and he for sure knew that he liked you.

as your eyes stared into his, head slightly leaning in, he kissed you. soft and sweet and short, and when he pulled back again, your eyes were closed and you didn’t look displeased at all. and that’s when he knew, you liked him, too.

“ranboo, I swear, if you rest your arm on my head one more time!”

he laughed at your small threat, removing his arm from its comfortable place on the top of your head. he ruffled your hair, just to annoy you, with a playful smirk on his face. you pouted at him, fixing your hair again and softly shoving at his chest.

“fine~ I’ll stop. you’re just so short, it’s hard not to,” he giggled, patting the top of your head lightly as he smiled down at you brightly.

“maybe you should just be shorter. then I won't have to get on my toes all the time to kiss you.” you crossed your arms, staring up at him with a smirk on your face.

he shrugged. “nah. I kinda like seeing you struggle with that.”

you rolled your eyes and let out a low grumble, acting like a kid who was just told they weren't allowed any candy. before you knew it, a dandelion was pushed back into your hair, followed suit by a quick peck on your cheek. your lips parted in surprise, eyes staring up at him again, before reaching your hand up to gently touch the flower, a small smile spreading across your face.

“now,” he started, leaning down to intertwine his fingers with yours. “shall we go out to enjoy the last day of august?”

_____________________________________

tag list✰

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mostly-marvel-musings · 4 years ago

Note

hi can u write a bucky femxreader where they hate each other and have a really loud yelling and fighting session and then it turns into a heated passionate makeout sesh and it goes from there (enemies to lovers hate sex!!!!)

Sparring

A/N: Okay here we have some angry sex with Mr Barnes, let me know if I nailed it!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, angry sex.

Word count: 1.4+

Requests & Challenges

Bucky Barnes Taglist - @marvelgirl7

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Taglists are open folks! Send me an ask or DM to be included in any of these ;))

“Again!”

Your arch nemesis yelled as you landed on the rubber mat with a huff, back hurting from being repeatedly thrown around during the sparring session. It wasn’t your day apparently and you kept missing punches and ended up on the floor more than you should have. Your sparring partner was a trainee which added insult to injury and given that you were being judged and yelled at by James Buchanan Barnes was just another blow to your ego.

It was no secret that you two didn’t get along. Years ago when he was the Winter Soldier, you had been sent by Shield to track him down in Bucharest which had gone south very quickly. You had almost lost your life and if weren’t for Natasha coming to your rescue, you wouldn’t have been here to hate him. The permanent scar on your abdomen thanks to his metal arm and the fact he’d choked you until you’d passed out – the now invisible finger marks around your throat were enough to remind you of all the hatred you felt towards him even years after he’d joined the good side.

“Are you snoozing over there (Y/L/N)? We’re not done just yet, let’s try it again.” Bucky’s harsh voice snapped you out of it as your opponent helped you stand up. You glanced at the man who had a look of disapproval on his face.

Channeling your rage was easy, you managed to get a few good kicks in and knocked your partner Jake down a couple of times, eyes flitting towards Bucky to make sure he was looking at your progress, but he didn’t seem fazed. Rolling your eyes, you went over to grab water from your gym bag to take a breather when Bucky stopped you.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Taking a little break. Don’t I get five minutes?”

“You’ll get a break when I say you can.”

“Hey I think we’ve had enough, we can call it a day.” Your partner offered, trying to diffuse the tension that was building.

He dismissed Jake but asked you to get back on the mats with him instead, you knew this was coming. You went for the water anyway while Jake got his things and left sending a sympathetic look your way as you wiped some sweat off with a towel.

Bucky flexed his arms till you joined back, just a little show off that you didn’t care about before you prepared yourself, guards up. You had to ignore his critical look at your stance otherwise you were sure to have punched him in the face right there and then.

You were quick to attack first but it was almost as if he was expecting the move, he dodged it with minimum effort and held you in a headlock, the metal arm around your neck while the other held your head making it slightly difficult for you to breathe.

“That was sloppy.”

His voice was low and breathy against your ear while you made futile attempts to free yourself. He did you a favour and let go, only to land a kick against your sides which you thankfully blocked just in time.

The sparring session went on for a while with you taking blow after blow, blocking a mere handful but adding to Bucky’s annoyance and your own rage. A final move had you pinned underneath him, his face inches from your own, the dog tags he always wore clinking against each other as they fell out of his training shirt. Bucky’s eyes shamelessly roamed over your heaving chest as the sweat made your skin glisten, the strands of hair that escaped your ponytail and clung to your forehead, your eyes that bore into his, defeat hidden beneath the simmering fire.

“I thought you were one of the good ones (Y/N). You disappoint me.”

“It’s funny how I thought the exact same thing about you Barnes.” You seethed before you pushed him off, stood up and went towards the bench where your bag was.

“We’re not done h—”

“Yes we are! I think I’ve had enough humiliation to last me a decade from you today. I don’t care if what you say, I’m done.” You turned around heatedly as you yelled, your voice echoing in the empty gym, stopping Bucky in his tracks as he watched angry tears gather in your eyes.

“You let emotions get in the way (Y/L/N) that never makes for a good agent which I had my doubts if you were, now it’s pretty clear.”

“Oh I’m sorry not all of us were brainwashed to be cold-hearted assassins Barnes.”

That was a step too far, you knew it, he knew it, but you were practically fuming at this point and it just slipped out.

Bucky took slow, deliberate steps towards you, making you back away until your back hit the wall, as he stopped right at the point where your chests were almost touching. His human arm slid along your sides before he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“I can be cold-hearted when it comes to others things too little girl.” He whispered dangerously, the grip tightening just a little, enough to elicit a whimper from your lips.

“Don’t call me a little g—”

Before you could finish, his mouth slanted over yours in a bruising kiss that took you by surprise at first but soon you found yourself kissing him back with equal if not greater fervour. Wedging his knee to push your legs apart, his hand left your throat to pull the straps of your sports bra down to expose your breasts. Bucky’s tongue mingled against yours in an assault while he kneaded your breasts before tracing a pattern down your neck to the valley between your breasts where he sucked possessively. A groan fell from your lips when he grazed his teeth over your pert nipples.

Your hands desperately grabbed his shirt before pulling it over his head and throwing it somewhere in the back. He picked you up by the back of your knees before taking you over to a bench and carefully laying you on it, all while attacking your mouth with his ruthless kisses. Your eyes remained shut as you felt trapped in a heady mix of the need you felt for this man and the desire to have him in you right here in the compound gym and you were sure he felt the same as your leggings slid down your legs along with your panties to join the heap of clothes on the floor.

“You’re soaked baby girl… is that for me?”

Bucky’s fingers toyed with your glistening folds before sliding a finger inside as you gasped at the intrusion. Your eyes flew open just enough to watch him close his lips over your bundle of nerves while he added another finger, stroking your walls and stretching you out. Just as you were about to cum, Bucky pulled his fingers out causing you to whine out loud.

“Cold-hearted assassin was it?”

Previous anger came flooding back as you sat up only to push Bucky on the floor as he stared back at you, equal parts surprised and impressed. Undoing his pants in a hurry, you freed his erection and pumped his cock a few times, swiping your thumb across the tip to collect the precum. He watched you in awe as you worked him up, doing absolutely nothing to stop you as you straddled his hips before sinking down on his length.

“Oh fuck…”

“Where was all this aggression?” Bucky growled, grabbing your hair roughly to pull you down for a kiss as you began rolling your hips. Your eyes mapped every plain and dip of his chiselled torso all while your mind thought of ways to make him shut up.

Your nails scratched marks on his shoulders as you picked up the pace gradually, your sensitive nub brushing against his pubic bone every time but you wanted more. You drew tight circles with your own hand chasing your release before Bucky slapped it away only to replace it with his own deft fingers.

He began thrusting up faster, jaw clenched to suppress his moans, filling the room with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your mewls as your walls fluttered around his cock deliciously, your orgasm consuming you whole, clouding your thoughts and triggering his release as his cock twitched before filling you with thick ropes of cum.

You collapsed against his sweat-lined chest and lay there for a bit, slowly floating back to the land of the living.

“Why do you hate me?” Bucky asked after you parted to put your clothes back on.

“Why do you?” You countered.

“You’re an obstinate incorrigible woman.”

“And you’re an arrogant piece of shit.”

The glares you gave each other melted away as smiles began appearing in place of them as you head out of the gym together, the after effects of your activities showing.

“You want to grab a bite to eat later?”

“No. I still don’t like you Barnes.”

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #fatws bucky #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes

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animatedrapture · 4 years ago

Text

"𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖞" — suna rintarou ;

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: suna rintarō is so much more than his bored eyes, the blunt between his lips, and his tendency to slack off—luckily, you're one of the very few people who know this; especially after he comes home to you sullen after finding out he didn't make it to the olympic players.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖘: female reader. fluff—established relationship. angst if you squint. comfort. mention of drug use. like, one swear word.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k

𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖙'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: in lieu of the influx of toxic stoner!suna content, i offer you a piece of appreciation towards him and all that he is. i was meaning to post this in my new blog but i thought there's so much of you here who would appreciate and need this more. written on a whim at 1AM and didn't proofread so for any errors, gomen. repost because tumblr tagging hates me. cross posted on ao3 under the same username. original post here. this was written before we got information that he actually made it to the olympic team. furudate really told me to stfu, huh?

It's you who find out first that there is truly so much more to Suna Rintarō than his expressionless exterior, sleepy eyes, and bored gaze towards even the most ridiculous situations. It's when his self assured stance dwindled as he walked towards you once upon a time, introducing himself first before asking you for your number.

"My number?" You echoed his request, trying your best not to gawk at his attractive features and six foot two stature towering over you so easily; making you feel oh so small. (Which is funny, given that you were already standing straight on your heels.)

"If you don't mind, 's cool if you say no," he replies, tearing his gaze from you as if he was actually anxious you'd say no.

It's funny, really. It's not every day a famous pro-athlete known for both his good looks and skills walk up to you, asking for your number and actually considering you'd say no to him and his pretty features—in fact, nevermind that he was pretty, it was more the fact that he wasn't so full of himself to actually think you wouldn't say no.

That's what makes you nod your head; your heart already beating right out of your chest as he gives you a lazy grin and his phone to press your number in. When you're done, you hand it back to him and you mentally pat yourself at the back for not visibly trembling.

"Y/N?" He reads your name from the contact information, and good God, did your name sound so beautiful coming out of his mouth. He doesn't wait for your reply anymore, looking back at you from his phone, the lazy smile still across his lips as if he knew it was a heart killer.

"Thanks, I'll text you later," is the last thing he said before he walked away from you.

It didn't take long for you to fall in love with someone like Suna Rintarō—underneath his detached personality also lied someone who was truly passionate with the things he set his mind to, gave his time to. Like you or volleyball or the video game he's been waiting to release for a whole month—it only had to be something or someone who was special enough, then, he would give it his all.

The smoke that filled his lungs occasionally did nothing to lessen your own intoxication of Suna Rintarō and his passions—because every exhale, his dark green eyes would meet yours and oh so easily, he offers you that same lazy smile yet one that was dripping with affection.

"Should you even be smoking that, Rintarō?" You had questioned him before, about the second time you've seen him put the rolled blunt in between his soft lips, inhaling it.

"It's a once in a while kinda thing, you don't actually think I'd sacrifice my career for this don'tcha?" He grins at you, amusement flooding his usually bored eyes — now glazed over with the effects of the weed—from the way he gazes at you with an eyebrow raised.

It's when you realize that Suna Rintarō was independent and knew what he was doing—did what he did with full awareness, full control, full flexibility. It's as if who he was in court was who he was in person as well.

"You're really interesting, y'know that Rin?" You had mumbled against his chest once before, it was at the first few months of dating—he had one of his arms around you with you cuddled on his side, watching a movie from his couch.

"Yeah?"

"I mean—you've always been so good at what you do, huh? But you still work for it."

"What makes you say that?" You can feel him looking down on face against his chest.

"C'mon, don't be silly. You were scouted at middle school and you only got better as you grew up!" You say, finally moving your head to meet his gaze.

But all you get is a flick on your forehead and his low chuckle, "'s not that deep, y/n," he answers.

But you already knew better.

Suna isn't one for words, and no matter how much you insist that he was beyond the description of words, he only rolls his narrowed eyes at you. You find out Suna Rintarō, your boyfriend, was a huge inspiration during your sixth month together when you finally met his little sister.

It's hard to say it wasn't amusing how snarky she was, just as he was to his friends whom you've met a few times before—Atsumu and Osamu Miya, you remember. She's quick with her tongue, easily retorting back to her brother's comments.

"Are you sure you didn't just pay Y/N-san to be your girlfriend, nii-san?"

"Nah, you still jealous I came out prettier than you?" Suna bites back, a teasing grin plastered across his face. His sister only scoffs, looking back at you.

"You can tell me if he blackmailed you to come here!" She attempts to whisper. You're not sure whether you should be worried or continue to laugh, but you do neither as you choke on the drink you were sipping on right as she told you this.

"Shit, Y/N," Suna curses as you cough, your throat burning at the drink's intrusion, but Suna's quick to rub soothingly against your back as he offers you his water, his eyes glazed over in panic.

"You okay?" He asks when you stopped coughing, and you nod in response—throat remaining slightly sore. Suna lets out an aggravated groan, "Be careful next time," he manages to scold you, but oddly enough, his words remain saccharine.

There's something about the way that his little sister doesn't seem the least bit surprised with his reaction that somehow lets you know that perhaps, Suna Rintarō might just be quite the caring brother behind closed doors.

After that, it was when Suna excused himself to take a call from his manager, leaving you with his sister.

"Hey, nee-san, promise you'll take care of Rin-nii? You won't break his heart, will you?" His sister asks, eyes gleaming with something akin to hope, expectation, wonder. It easily takes you by surprise.

"Don't you worry, I'll promise I'll take care of him, promise I won't break his heart," your voice easily softens, nodding. His little sister's gaze remains on you, as if she's assessing you and as if she would easily tell whether or not you meant the words that came out of your mouth.

It makes you hold a breath until she nods slowly, smiling at you lightly just as Suna comes walking back, eyebrows raised, knowing he must've missed something.

"Whatcha girls talkin' bout?" He asked as he slipped back on his seat beside you.

"None of your business, obviously," his sister quickly answers.

They're truly quite similar, it's enough to make you smile and get through meeting his little sister until both of you dropped her off back to the train station.

"What'd she tell you?" Suna nudged you after seeing her train leave.

"Nothing, Rin," you answered with a wide smile, leaning up to place a chaste kiss against his lips—yet just as you pull away, one of his hands has found its way behind your neck, pulling you back to him.

You never thought a kiss could feel so loving before—but it really seemed as if Suna Rintarō had a knack for proving you wrong, over and over again.

It was the day that the Olympic team was announced when you see so much more of Suna Rintarō. Quick like the blink of an eye, or lightning that leaves the thunder chasing it; Suna felt the exhaustion, the pressure, the burnt-out feeling that's been repressed in the back of his head. It comes to him, crashing down like boulders not just on his shoulders but weighing down every part of his body.

Did he lack somewhere? He wonders. Where did that lacking end and start? What could have he done? Was it training, where he spent most of his time now? Suna had end up seeing you less and less since the drafting of olympic players started and you've been nothing but patient.

What was he supposed to tell you? After all the time it has stolen away from you—that he didn't make it?

When he opened the door to your shared apartment, he doesn't look up at you with a relieved sigh as he usually would—he avoids you gaze entirely, he avoids your observing eyes from the couch you sat on, watching him slowly shrug his shoes off.

"I'm just gonn—" he started, about to make an excuse to avoid looking at you.

"Prepared your bath, Rin. C'mon," Suna hears you say but it doesn't sink in his head, watching you take his hand, leading him to the bathroom.

Suna remains silent as he looks down on the bath you prepared for him, warm and inviting.

"Meet me in the kitchen when you're done, okay?" He hears you say, followed by the echo of your footsteps walking away.

You easily understand that Suna Rintarō was more than his talents, his efforts, and every little thing about him when you feel his large arms wrapped around you, his broad chest pressed against your back and his face buried on the crook of your neck. His fresh scent right out of the shower engulfing you and invading your senses, flooding you with him.

"'m sorry, bunny," he mumbles.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Ri—"

"It's odd, thought I'd pull it off, thought it'd be nothin' if I didn't make it. Don't know why I'm so upset right now," he continues, cutting you off, "Been so patient for me too, bunny. Thought I'd be nice to make you proud, ya know?"

Your sigh comes out sharp from the heavy feeling from your chest, not knowing what to do to make him feel better—like he did with you, always knowing his way around your low moments.

You wriggle out of his arms, making him grumble until you fully face him. He looks back at you with a small frown, eyebrows furrowed, watching your expression.

"I'm always proud of you, Rin. Olympic player or not, you make me so proud," you speak softly, your hands cupping each side of his face.

"Don't even get why it matters to me this much, it's just—" it was your turn to cut him off, tipping your toes to press a lingering kiss against his lips. Suna smiles against your lips, carrying you to sit on the kitchen counter like he always did—knowing you always would have to tip on your toes to reach him.

Soon, the lingering kiss turns slow and passionate—lips softly grazing the other, and it feels more like pouring the heavy weight of love out of your chest and into the other. A kiss so loving, so reassuring, so passionate—the kind that easily takes your breath away and makes your mind go blank. When Suna pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. You smile at him because it's all you can do when your heart feels like it's going to leap out of your throat just to offer itself to him entirely—and Suna smiles back at you, pecking your lips before wrapping his arms around you again, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You run your fingers through his hair, hoping it would help soothe him, and then you say, "I promise that you'll make it next year, Rin. I'll be with you now, and I'll still be with you then."

It only makes him hold you tighter, closer to him, "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, Rintarō. You deserve the world and all the stars in the galaxy."

"'s too bad there's nothin' more I need than you, then."

That's what Suna tells you—Suna, who was smoke in his lungs, dumb videos of the twins to blackmail them with, little mistakes, bored eyes, and lazy attitude. The same Suna who was slow kisses, passion, and genuine smiles reserved for you—the same Suna who gave his passions his all, the same Suna who held you securely in his arms every night, the same Suna his little sister admired. Most of all, the same Suna Rintarō you loved with every beat of your heart, every fibre of your being.

#suna x reader #suna rintarou #haikyuu x reader #suna #haikyuu #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu imagines #rintarou suna #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff #suna Rintarō #;cloud #IM SO PRESSED!!!#so anNOYED!!#GODDAMN HAD TO REPOST

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