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dekuscheripop · 1 year ago

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HOW TO STEAL A MAN part 1

Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku, Toga Himiko/Uraraka Ochako, Kaminari Denki/Kirishima Eijirou

Additional Tags:

Comedy, Romantic, Comedy, Drama, Slapstick, Single Parent Bakugou Katsuki, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia), Stealing of body fluids, Out of Character, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not Mpreg but with child, there is no cheating.

Single father Katsuki.

His son is 5 and a rascal that thinks he should have a lover because "Dada looks lonely."

His son ran off one day at the mall and after a panicked search the boy came back dragging someone in his tiny hands.

"Dada this one! This one, I found you a love love."

Katsuki sees shining emerald eyes and dusting of cocoa on cheeks

Katsuki sees Deku and wants to faint.

Deku was his first love, a love since kindergarten that never came to be. Especially since Deku migrated to America after they graduated college.

So back then Katsuki took whatever he could since he couldn't have Deku's love.

His sperm.

Katsuki had so secretly stolen sperm from Deku and brought it to a surrogate to have Deku's child.

Now here was Deku back after 5 years.

He was fucked for three good reasons, so so fucked because,

1 - his child looked so happy holding Deku's hand.

2 - Seeing Deku again after a long time made him realize he was still so in love with the damn nerd.

3 - Deku is already married.

He was standing behind the ice cream booth that had 201 flavors while in his hand was the god forsaken flavor of spicy chocolate mint cream that his son loves so much. The stuffed rabbit backpack that was too small and too tight over his shoulder looked so out of place along with the ice cream on him. There were the toilet papers on his other hand too.

To be fair Katsuki did not look his best today. It's supposed to be just a trip to the mall to buy toilet paper and some ice cream as per his son's request. Just an ordinary day, supposed to be an ordinary day.

So he wore his comfortable off white t-shirt that was already baconed on the collar and sleeves and his faded khaki cargo shorts, and the finale was the gift from Kirishima, red crocs shoes on his sock feet.

In short he looked like a disaster. At least his son looked cute in his black shirt under an orange overall.

Of all the days that he isn't in his suit and tie and leather shoes it had to be the day his son dragged his wet dream back into his life.

Deku. fucking Midoriya Izuku is hand in hand with his son. Fucking Midoriya Izuku at 5’11, in a tight black turtle neck long sleeve shirt and equally tight denim jeans. His wavy green hair in an undercut.

If Katsuki thought of him as a wet dream back in college then today it's a raging flood of a fantasy!

But his libido wasn't the main problem as of now. It's the fact that his son is with his biological dad! The one who Katsuki stole his sperm from!

Plus he looks like shit infront of his long time crush for fucks sake!

Katsuki is sweating buckets.

“Dada, I found you a love love!” His son, Kiyoshi, repeated, large red eyes shining and his freckled cheeks in a light blush on how happy he is.

“Love love? Well, aren't you cute for a kidnapper?”

Katsuki's knees buckled at the sweet yet deep voice, like smooth honey whiskey going down his throat and going right down his whole body. It's been so long since he heard that voice. Why the fuck is he salivating?

“You shouldn't be giving your dada any problems, little guy.” Deku kneels in front of Kiyoshi, patting his head with his big scarred hands.

Deku hasn't seen him yet.

Maybe if he grabs his son and runs like mad he can save himself.

“Let's go say sorry to your dad now.” Deku stood up and faced him and those emerald eyes grew wide.

It was too late.

“Kacchan?”

Deku saw him in all his ugly glory.

Fuck. Great tutuly dudally fuck.

“Deku.” The name slips out of his mouth easily.

“Hi. It's been so long.” Still holding Kiyohi's hand, Deku walks towards him, it was a picture scene. Green wavy hair with blonde wavy hair, green doe eyes with red doe eyes and the same flock of freckles on fair skin, hand and hand walking towards him.

It was overwhelming.

Deku was in front of him now, Katsuki felt giddy. He likes to deny the fact that he is thrilled that he was still taller than Deku by half a head.

“How have you been?” He asked, looking up at Katsuki with the happiest smile.

“I'm good.” He could only reply courtly, scared that he might blurt out something wrong. He hopes his expression was giving him away.

“Yeah I can see that.” Deku says, still not removing eye contact.

Katsuki winces at his comment. What part of him looked good damn it. If anyone looks good here it's Deku and damn does he look way too fine.

Their eyes are stuck on each other, drawn in as if they were the only ones in the world.

Time seemed to have stopped as he stared into those deep pools of liquid emerald eyes.

“Dada?”

The small voice cut them off whatever trance they had.

Deku looks down at the small hand tugging at him. Katsuki could have sworn there was a flicker in his eyes. On edge and muscles tense, Katsuki becomes nervous. Did Deku notice? Did he figure it out?

“So this is your son?” Deku asked, bending down and lifting up the small child into his arms. Katsuki felt his heart constrict painfully just looking at them. There was something growing inside, something heavy and bitter, guilt.

“Yeah! I’m Dada’s but with no Mama! So Dada is lonely, so mister needs to be with dada so he won't be lonely!” Kiyoshi lifts his hands up in declaration in a loud voice.

“Oi brat!” Katsuki reprimanded his son, his face was burning red from embarrassment.

He takes him from Deku’s arms and scolds him but the small child just huffed.

“But it's true. Dada is lonely.”

“Where did you learn to talk back?”

The two bickered back and forth like both were like small children.

There was a melodious sound of laughter coming just beside him. Deku was laughing hard, almost hunched over holding his stomach.

“He’s definitely your son Kacchan. He’s just like you.” Straightening himself up and wiping the tears from laughter from his eyes;

Deku pats Kiyoshi’s fluffy head. Kiyoshi preens at the attention.

The weird flicker in Deku's eyes was gone, he seems to be more happy after all that laughter.

“Mister mister I like you! I think Dada will like you too so you need to-mmph.” Katsuki stops his sons from talking,

muffling his mouth gently as he could but god damn it why is his child such a loud mouth?

"Ok." He says with a drawn out voice. "It was nice seeing yah but we gotta go. This guy needs to poop. So bye." Katsuki hurriedly turns around, not caring for Kiyoshi's muffled protest

and not even looking at Deku's eyes as he tries to speed walk away from his biggest problem.

"Kacchan wait!"

Katsuki does not. He walks faster.

It should be fine. Deku would probably go back to the US soon and they won't meet up every again.

It hurts to think about it but it would be a disaster if he stayed.

"I've transferred back here for work. So I hope I'll be seeing you often, Kacchan!"

Oh fuck. Great tutuly dudally fuck.

She just wanted to enjoy her fresh hot Takoyaki. Delicious Takoyaki. Just what she wanted and just what she craved. It was the last piece.

Picking it up with her chopsticks towards her awaiting mouth. A perfect treat.

Her door flew open with a bang.

"Ochako!"

"Ahhhhh!"

Bang went to the door and bang went over her nerves from too much coffee this morning. Up her Tokoyaki went to the ceiling and stayed there like a half disco ball of carbs and octopus meat.

The two people stare at the new decor impassively then stare at each other.

"You owe me."

"Whatever! I have a bigger problem!"

What could be more of a bigger problem than her food!

"You owe me an order of Takoyaki!"

"Alright alright! I'll buy you one later. Just listen to me!"

"No later. Now!" She was really pissed. That was her last ball with the biggest piece of octopus and the most sauce!

"Oh my god, fine. It's just at the corner anyway. Just listen, yah."

They walked out of her house. Ochaco was still angry and puffed her cheeks.

She really wanted that last price but instantly felt better at the prospect of a new batch.

"So what's this all about barging into my place?" He asked as they were about to make a turn at a corner.

There was a deep exhale and that's when Ochaco knew this wasn't just something trivial.

"He's back."

"Huh?"

"Deku's back!" Her best friend Bakugou Katsuki almost screamed.

Stopped, frozen and wide eyed.

"No."

"Yes."

"Oh my god. You are fucked! And I don't mean it in the oohh ahhhh kind!"

"Shut up!"

Ohhh but how could she shut up? Katsuki was having a life crisis while Ochako… Ochaco was having the time of her life!

"I told you this was gonna bite you back in the ass!"

She had long warned him way back after Katsuki suddenly barged into her home with an ice box and eyes crazy wide.

///"I stole his sperm!"///

Damn if that didn't traumatize her. Thank heavens she vehemently refused to be the surrogate mom for his craziness.

The surrogate was someone abroad that this crazy ass rich bastard paid millions on.

But don't get her wrong, she loves Kiyoshi with all her heart but damn if she hadn't been waiting for this moment to arrive.

"I told you so."

Oh how it felt good to finally say those words. She is having a blast.

"Shut up. I thought this was never going to happen!"

Ochaco beckoned Katsuki to start walking again. He still owes Takoyaki after a.

"Pfft. Now what are you going to do? He's married already isn't he?"

"That's what I heard. Ochako I-"

"Kacchan."

Kacchan?

Ochaco sees Katsuki turn deathly pale then to a light pink, pink, darker pink to a deep blush.

She looked straight ahead and just before the Takoyaki booth was a man so fine she wanted to sing a damn gravy tik tok song out loud.

Wait, did Katsuki just say Deku?

Her round eyes were about to bulge out of their sockets. This guy was Midoriya Izuku a.k.a. Deku.

No wonder he stole sperm from this guy! He's hot as fuck. Ochaco would too if she wasn't a full out lesbian.

"You're here for Takoyaki too? The booth is still here after all these years huh. Just like back in highschool we used to eat here often."

The Deku guy passed by Ochaco and went straight for Katsuki. It was like he didn't see him at all.

"Deku." Was all Katsuki said. Ochaco stared hard at the wobbly expression her best friend had. She wished she could take a photo but she left her phone at home. Damn.

"I didn't get to ask earlier but I was wondering if you would have dinner with me this Friday? Just to catch up on everything."

She saw how Katsuki's normal mean eyes were wide like saucers.

"You can bring Kiyoshi with you. He is so adorable."

How his brows shut up and how the normal loud and rude Katsuki was silent with his long term crush being so near. It was a disaster.

Ochaco was living for it. Her smile was so self satisfied.

"Can we Kacchan? For old times sake?"

Katsuki was about to faint. Deku grabbed his hands with his own.

"Please." And gave him the puppy dog eyes.

He was doomed.

He nodded.

He was so fucking doomed.

"Thank you Kacchan." Deku still hasn't let go of Katsuki's hand, instead he gave him a brightest purest smile.

Ochaco and Katsuki were blinded. Damn gravy so clean and delicious! Oh but this one does have a missus. Too bad.

Ochaco will just have to appreciate the disaster truck of her best friend as it is.

"Oh you have someone with you."

Deku finally notices her and all she could do was smile even though she was completely ignored just earlier.

"I'm Midoriya Izuku and you are?" Deku raised his hand to shake in introduction.

"Ah I am-"

"She's Uraraka Ochaco!"

Ochaco had pulled away and was now in front of Katsuki as he had grabbed her arms. Showing her off to Deku like some kind of livestock.

"She's Kiyoshi's mom! So she has to come with us to dinner with Kiyoshi!"

The Takoyaki vendor dropped a ball on the pavement. So did Ochako's jaw.

She was frozen but slowly her head turned behind Katsuki, her soon to be ex best friend

The guy just mouthed sorry at her.

"Oh. I see."

She turns back to the sound of Deku and froze up like a rock during winter.

His bright green eyes have turned dark all the while looking at her. What is that?!

Oh great tutuly dudally fuck.

She is going to kill Katsuki.

TBC.

#bakudeku #bkdk fic #bnha bkdk #ktdk #Deku #Kacchan #Izuku #Katsuki #How to Steal a Man bkdk

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ticketstomydaydreams · 4 years ago

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HOME

(All We Have: Part One)

Part Two

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson are close friends and he invites you to move in to his house while you work on his record together

Word count: 1,580

Feels: Friendship Fluff for now

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of feeling depressed

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - Home

Sia - Dressed in Black

The Beatles - With a Little Help from My Friends

A/N: Throughout the series there will be changes to the timing of real life events like the pandemic, the release of certain songs etc. There's certain things I want to incorporate into the series, like particular events in MGKs life and lyrics from songs, so some stuff will get moved around to fit in to the story ✌️

______

It had been a long evening working in Colson’s home studio, The Boulevard, with him and the gang on the upcoming Tickets to my Downfall album. To say your schedule was busy was an understatement, but Colson had insisted you get involved with the new material after the success of your work together on Hotel Diablo.

Composing music was your main gig, you had an ear for melody and your passion for writing meant you always had lyrics swirling around your head. You had a penchant for dark and melancholy lyrics, finding music to be a source of therapy for you. It was something you and Colson had instantly bonded over. He'd bugged you to list some of the stuff you'd written that he'd know and you had gained his professional respect immediately.

He always kept a close eye on your work, ever the supportive friend and had laid claim to your piece ‘Glass House’ as soon as he'd heard it.

______

2019

You were sitting crossed legged on the sofa in your lounge, gently strumming your guitar and gazing off into space and mumbling to yourself, as you worked out some lyrics in your head. Colson was lying on the floor by your feet, scrolling through his phone with earphones in, a blunt in his hand that he occasionally passed up to you. This was a common set up, you found it easier to write in the peace and quiet and Colson has gradually started hanging out at your place more when he needed to focus on his own writing.

"All alone in the glass house, lie awake til the sun's out, pink sky when you come down…"

"Throw me in the damn flames, Bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames…"

You'd started singing out loud, occasionally stopping to scribble down lyrics and make adjustments, not noticing that Colson had removed his earbuds to listen to you

" Dude, that's hard, like, beautiful… " His comment made you jump slightly, you hadn't seen him propping himself up on his elbows, watching you intently "Sing that last bit again"

You blushed slightly, his opinion was always important to you, and started singing. He muttered to himself as you did, then pointed at you "Again!"

Letting out a little laugh and rolling your eyes, you sang again

"Throw me in the damn flames, bury me in gold chains, throw me in the damn flames"

Colson's voice met yours at the end of the line, rapping softly "I'm waiting on the rain to come and wash it all away"

You locked eyes, smiling and he sat upright. "Dude, Im'a need that hook! That spoke to me right there, I've think got something for it that I've been stuck on"

He looked so excited, your heart did a little flip. You'd seen that writing this album had taken it out of him, he'd been digging deep and really going through it emotionally. You could tell it was going to be raw and special from what you'd heard already.

He sat forward and moved the guitar from your lap so he could lean his arms on your knees and looked up at you shooting you puppy dog eyes with those baby blues "Pretty please Y/N"

You laughed and ruffled his hair, "Anything for you Col" Honestly, it'd be an honour to be part of such a personal project, you thought

He wrapped his arms round you and squeezed,

"You're a legend, kid. Get a sample recorded and send it to me!" He grabbed your guitar off the sofa and whipped back around, strumming a few chords as he carried on talking with his back to you, leaning against the sofa "This is gonna be fire, you always just hit the nail on the head, I swear it's like you're in my head sometimes"

You smiled, seeing the wave of motivation that had struck your friend. You felt so lucky to have a friend who was not only so inspiring, but one who 'got it', who understood that music was a form of release. Someone who recognised that it was important to feel these things, rather than encourage you to push dark thoughts away with toxic positivity.

He’d pushed to use your original samples on his record, but as much as you loved writing and singing, you were a behind the scenes kind of gal which had always suited you just fine. Naomi, a mutual friend of you both, came onboard to record them with him. A decision that turned out to be golden… 'Death in my Pocket' would be born not long after, with Naomi doing your lyrics such beautiful justice yet again, perfectly pairing with Colson's emotional rapping.

______

From then on Colson had kept you close to his recording. You'd been helping here and there with composition and notation, but your production skills were what was taking centre stage during the most recent sessions. You had a long list of projects you were working through, leaving you chained to your equipment most days and nights anyway so throwing more music into your workload didn't seem like much of a big deal. In all honesty, the chaos of Colson’s studio and the revolving door of personalities that were in and out constantly, made it one of the most fun places to be. You loved what you did for a living and it never really felt like work Even though the guys were a real handful at times, you kind of enjoyed being the studio 'Mami' as they often affectionately referred to you

Everything had wrapped up for the evening and the guys had migrated back into the house. You could hear from the raucous that the drinks must have started flowing freely. You were saving your work and packing up your stuff when Colson bursts back into the studio and throws himself in a chair, spinning it around with his arms in the air.

"You staying for drinks Y/N?" he grins at you, clearly hyper and in party mode

You let out a big sigh "Urgh, I'd love to but I have an early start tomorrow. I finally managed to get an apartment viewing. I swear I've looked at a hundred places now, they get snapped up so quickly.. I've only got a few weeks left on my lease as well"

“Ah, that sucks kid” Colson empathises, spinning his chair again before an idea strikes him “Wait! Why don’t you move in here for a bit until you find a place? The guest room is pretty much your room anyway, the amount you crash here”

You laugh “This is true, that mattress is so much better than mine! Aw Col, that would honestly be so helpful, the stress of finding a place when I’m this busy is killing me. I don't know… You sure the guys won’t mind?”

Colson scoffs “Why would they mind? You practically live here anyway” he teases “I’m sure they’ll be just as stoked as I am at the thought of you joining the madhouse for a while”

Before you have a chance to respond, he stands up and throws his arms around you, squashing you into him tightly “That’s it decided Roomie. Another song in the bag and a new housemate, plenty to celebrate tonight!”

Wriggling out of his tight grasp, you laugh and in a deep voice shout “let’s goooooo” mocking his signature catchphrase. He flips you his middle finger and says “Kitchen, now”

Once you’re in the kitchen, Colson heads to get you a drink and grabs one himself. Appearing back at your side, he passes you your beer and then shouts out to the rest of the group,

“YO, meet our latest housemate, Y/N is moving in. LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO”

Everyone in the kitchen lets out a big cheer, clearly pleased as he said they would be. Colson bends down and picks you up, swinging you around in a circle, spilling your drinks all over the both of you as you shout his name in mock annoyance, between giggles.

“I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for” Rook laughs, clinking his drink against your now empty beer bottle once your feet are back on the floor

“It’ll be good to have another pair of hands around here, looking after you lot” Ashleigh chimes in, laughing and slapping Slim away as he pulls her hood up over her head, covering her eyes

It had been 5 years since you'd made the decision to move to LA, barely knowing a soul. You'd worked several jobs, jumped from place to place, worked your ass off to catch your break in the music business, sometimes feeling like the grind would never get you anywhere.

There had been times where you felt like you couldn't carry on, aching from trying to keep pace. The dream had felt like it was turning into a nightmare, as you tried to make ends meet, feeling so lonely in this enormous city.. but eventually you'd made these amazing friends who made you feel so safe and loved.

Now, there were times you had to pinch yourself just to make sure it was all real.

As you shake off some of the beer that's dripping from your hands, you look around the kitchen. Taking in the crazy, loveable bunch before you, your new housemates, you are filled with gratitude. You finally felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be…

Home.

______

❌❌ Lace up!

#mgk fluff #colson baker x reader #mgk imagine #mgk x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson x reader #mgk fic #machine gun kelly #fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #mgk fanfiction #colson baker

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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 4 years ago

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The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

-------------------------------------

A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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angelamajiki · 4 years ago

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PARINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x Prostitute! Female! Reader

CW: yandere, noncon, degradation, choking, somno? somno, prostitutes, unprepared sex, shigaraki has a FAT crush on mirko and decided he needed to take it out on you

AN: my first shiggy fic! please mind the tags and enjoy <3

For @tomurasprincess Shigaraki Birthday Celebration Collab! enjoy bb <33

Turning 21 and still being a virgin? It was pathetic, really. His birthday was not something he was used to celebrating; there were more important things for him to divert his attention to than a petty holiday. It was just another part of society that needed to be eliminated.

But, damn it all, if Dabi wouldn’t stop pestering him about “letting off steam” down on some street corner.

“I already told you, I don’t want some cheap hooker that’s gonna squeal on us.” Tomura sighed, scratching at his neck with a frustrated vigor. “Take Giran with you if you’re that desperate. Hell, Twice might even go too.”

But Dabi didn’t budge. “I’m not doing this for me, boss. It’ll be good to stop being so pent up and pissy.”

His grin was wide and toothy. Tch, of course, this was some kind of game to him. The bastard probably wanted to see how long he would last his first time, which even he knew wouldn’t be too long. Not that he would admit that out loud, least of all to the man sitting across from him at the bar.

“I am not pent up and pissy. I’ll go as long as you’re the one paying.”

“No sweat off my back, boss. I'll take you somewhere nice. Kurogiri said it's where your old man used to go to relax.”

———

The man wasn't lying when he said the place was nice. It was too nice. Made is his skin crawl to see so much money being thrown around so carelessly. They were all disgusting, sniveling pigs who would all bow to him one day, so he paid them no mind as they passed the whores around as quick as they would a used napkin.

“See, told ya I was takin’ you somewhere nice. So pick someone you like and a room to, uh, get to know them in. I'm off.” With that, Dabi stalked off to find his own kill for the night.

But how could Tomura choose just one? There were so many choices. Women, men, those who blurred the gender lines, mutants, both pretty and ugly. But hey, everyone’s got a fetish nowadays. The elaborate costumes and lingerie they wore meant nothing to him; it would just get in the way.

His eyes scanned the room before he did a double-take over the hero section. Heroes were popular, but Christ, would people be so depraved and desperate they would pay to stick themselves in a fake one just to bust? Apparently he was one of those people tonight. When he saw those bunny ears and that bodysuit, Tomura Shigaraki was done for.

A pink flush dusted his cheeks as he approved the vixen, the imitation of the woman of his dreams, more specifically, you dressed in a Mirko cosplay, tail and all. It was naturally unrequited feelings, but damn if his cock didn't get hard at the sight of Rumi viciously tearing through villains like they weren’t even human. She would make a fine one herself. Ah, but only in his fantasies. Or so he thought until tonight.

Lanky, bone dry fingers make their way around your wrist to yank you up out of your seat. Your eyelash had bat up at him as he had walked over, his attraction towards you was obvious. But he wasn't here to play games, so your coquettish flirting did nothing but make him cringe.

“Come on, little bunny.” He tugged you along to a private room. “We’re going to play together.”

Tomura was undoubtedly more excited than when he first entered the brothel. He sat down on the room's velvet couch and spread his legs, patting his bony left thigh.

“Sit. I don't like to repeat myself, so don't make me.”

You sauntered over to him, giving a slow walk to build than anticipation, but he wasn't feeling patient tonight. Tch, hero slut thinking you impress him? You were nothing but a hole for him to corrupt.

Four fingers brought you to his lap roughly, migrating to your neck for good measure.

“Do you know who I am, Mirko?”

Was he delusional? Not really.

Possibly.

Definitely.

But that wasn't the issue at hand.

A meek “no, sir” stuttered out from your bulging eyes and reddened face as he squeezed with bitterness he didn't know he had.

“No? The number five doesn't know who I am?”

It was true then, he was just scum under her shoes. Who was he kidding? That damn rabbit bitch would kill him without a second thought.

“You think you’re so high and might don't you, hero?” He sneered venomously, tightening his grip while your arms weakly hit him. Good, he liked a challenge. “Looks like you need to be put in your place, bunny bitch.”

Your thrashing did nothing to quell his frustrated growls and huffs as he pulled the thong of the cheap bodysuit to the side—no point in disintegrating the whole thing. God, he couldn't wait to get his cock stuffed to the hilt inside you. His hard cock sprung free from his sweatpants as he pulled up the hood to his black sweatshirt.

The scene was already set in his head, a camera pointed directly at her as he corrupted her hero pussy for all of Japan to see what a whore their number five was. Unfortunately, you would have to do, alone with him in the dank room of the brothel.

God, you were just ruining everything weren't you? You hardly looked like her at all, especially with all that crying and squealing. She would never be so pathetic.

“Shut the fuck up; I’ll give you something to cry about.”

With that, he sheathed himself inside of your unprepared pussy. Oh fuck, did your walls clamp down on him perfectly. At least you were good for something.

Tomura wanted it to hurt, relishing in the screams you let out as he inched his way into your resistant cunt.

“Yeah, that's right. Scream for my cock. It's stretching you out nice and good, isn't it?”

He only got a sob as a response.

“I asked you a question, bitch.”

Ah, an enthusiastic yes. Maybe you weren't such a bad substitute after all. Heavy balls pressed snuggly against your skin as he fought the urge to cum so soon after violating you. The thought of one day being balls deep in Mirko almost sent him over the edge, but looking at your tear-stricken, choked-out expression lulled him back. Ugh, that definitely would keep him busting on the spot.

His pace was brutal as he snapped his hips into yours, snarling and growling all the way.

“You think you're too good for me, Rumi? Think you're hot shit? You're nothing but a breeding bunny for me.”

Your cunt felt heavenly clenching around him, he noticed that the harder he choked you, you squeezed his coco tighter. He quite liked the sound of your crying and pleading for him to stop, it was almost cute. Keyword being almost.

Now he's not one for pain, but damn if they sting on his thighs from slapping against your skin didn't feel just incredible. He has a fleeting thought to wonder how you're feeling, but he supposed it didn’t matter all that much. It was your job to please him, right?

“Cum on this fucking villain cock, Rumi. Show the world you're nothing more than a villain’s whore.”

It was his turn to cry, more so out of frustration as he used your body like a fleshlight, pounding into your now wet cunt mercilessly. God, if this didn't hurt knowing he'd never have her. But you seemed to do the job just fine.

The tail on the back of your bodysuit was bouncing and jumping with his thrust. What he would give just to be able to grab the real thing and hear her squeals of Tomura, more, more!

At some point, you had lost consciousness, and he couldn't find it in himself to care as he continued to chase his pleasure. He moaned louder and bolder now that you were out cold, hell, he even whined a few times. Not that anyone was around, or awake, to hear him.

He couldn't help but sob as he creamed your unresponsive cunt, hunching over your limp body and nuzzling his face into the faux ears you wore. Tomura could imagine how soft the real deal would be as they talked after, saying everything and nothing all at once.

Although it seemed it would be nothing as you were still limp and flushed under his arms. At least you were breathing and had a pulse.

Cleaning himself up, he stuffed a couple of dirty dollars into your still dripping cunt and stalked out of the room.

He’d definitely come back for round two.

#yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #my hero fanfic #my hero x reader #yandere x reader #yandere

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eyebagsbutglam · 4 years ago

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Meet the Parent(s)

A/N: This is a quirkless AU, lets pretend the Todoroki's are a happy functional family. My apologies to @myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants thank you for beta reading this exceptionally traumatic piece of comedy. Get ready to bleach your eyeballs y'all.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, taboo themes, vanilla sex, fluff, alcoholic mother.. I mean its pretty tame

Pairing: Touya x F!Reader

Word Count: 3983

“NEVER trust men.” You rolled your eyes as your mom went on another one of her man-bashing tangents.

“I’m serious Y/N. They’re always amazing at first, wining and dining you, promising you the world. Then when shit gets real- BAM! They’re gone, leaving you in the dust.” She shot back her last sip of wine and wiggled the glass in front of you asking for a refill.

“Mom please. Touya’s different. He’s dependable and considerate. I promise if you just give him a chance you’re gonna love him.” You walked into the kitchen and instead of grabbing the wine you poured her a glass of grape juice. She was sloshed enough to not notice the difference, you were experienced enough to recognize the signs of when she needed to be cut off.

“I know he is baby I’m just saying -hic- keep an eye on him. I know I will be tomorrow night!” She slumped over setting her elbow on the table, clumsily resting her chin in her palm. Her eyes were already at half mass.

“Yeah about tomorrow night. Could you maybe hold off on the drinking? At least keep it to one glass..” You wanted to add instead of one bottle, but you knew where that would lead the conversation and you’d rather not get in an argument tonight.

“Oh yes of course sweetie. You know I would never want to do anything to -hic- embarrass you.”Even her smile was crooked.

“Okay well maybe we should call it an early night. I want to make sure we’re nice and fresh for meeting Touya’s family tomorrow.”You helped her out of her chair and walked her to her bedroom, tucking her in.

Your mother was stressed. And when she’s stressed, she drinks. You couldn’t blame her. All in one night you revealed things are getting pretty serious with the boy you’ve been talkng to, and told her the following night you’ll be bringing her to dinner to meet him and his family.

She never did well with you having boyfriends, always so worried they were going to do you wrong like your father did her. You knew very little about the man, only the bits and pieces she shared about him. He was a regular at the bar your mom worked at, always flirting with her. They started dating and six weeks in she got pregnant. When she told him he flipped. He offered her a very large sum of money to disappear and she agreed, leaving town with a broken heart and swollen belly.

You felt bad for your mom, knowing the experience really jaded her. She never dated again, throwing herself into a new career all while being a full time mom. You hoped that seeing how amazing Touya was and how good you two were together, she would change her mind about love and get back out on the dating scene.

On the drive back to your place you called your boyfriend. You were beginning to feel nervous for the upcoming event.

“Hello dollface.” His deep voice was hypnotic, instantly soothing you.

“Hi handsome. How did it go telling your family about dinner tomorrow night?”You absentmindedly chewed on your bottom lip, a terrible habit you developed when anxious.

“Fine. Natsuo and Fuyumi won’t be able to make it. Shouto’s still doing his internship with dad’s company so he’ll be late along with my mom since they carpool to work. My dad however insisted on driving with me. He’s very interested to size up the woman who might give him grandchildren one day. Has to make sure you’re up to his standards.”His lighthearted chuckle did nothing to calm the nerves caused by his terrible joke.

When you didn’t respond he continued, “Oh come on Y/N I’m only kidding. I know they’re going to fall in love the moment they make eye contact, just like I did.”

“God I hope so.” You sighed, “Although its not just me I’m worried about.”

As you were getting ready for bed there was a knock on your door. Looking through the peephole you spotted a beautiful set of cerulean eyes and your heart leaped. You opened the door, forgetting you were in a skimpy set of silk pajamas.

You practically jumped into him, bouncing on your tippy toes so you could snake your arms around his neck. He held you close, splaying his palms across your lower back before reaching down further to grab a handful of buttcheek.

“What are you doing here handsome? Shouldn’t you be at home? We have a big night tomorrow.” You leaned back so you could see his face but stayed in his grasp.

“I wanted to surprise you. When we were on the phone earlier you sounded like you were stressing out about dinner tomorrow. I thought I’d come by and.. distract you.”He held you at arms length and let his eyes wander down to your lips, then chest, legs, and back up to your face, taking his time to enjoy the view. “But it looks like you were already expecting me?” A cheeky grin split his face.

Just then, the realization that you were standing in the hallway in basically underwear hit and you turned, wiggling your booty at the man behind you before pulling him inside. The latch clicked into place and he used your hold on his hand to spin you so your back was against the door, placing his hand behind your head to cushion it from hitting the hard surface.

Your lips parted and a small yelp escaped. Touya pressed his body into yours, sliding his hand to the back of your neck, his other hand untangling from yours to join. He nipped at your bottom lip and then slowly traced his tongue across it before enveloping your mouth with his own. You closed your eyes and kissed him back, arching your body into his. His kisses started migrating to your jaw, and then down the side of your neck. You hummed, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. When his kisses went from feather light to opened mouthed your eyes shot open. You grabbed a handful of his hair at the nape and pulled his head away from your neck. A growl rumbled in his chest and the feral look he gave you sent a shiver down your spine.

“No marks! Dinner tomorrow.. remember?”Although you could kick yourself for stopping him, you knew you’d thank yourself in the morning. He rolled his eyes at you, letting out an exaggerated sigh and rolling his neck to add effect.

“Okay okay fine. I’ll just have to leave my mark in other ways then..” And with that he bent down and tossed you over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, heading straight to the bedroom. He unceremoniously dropped you onto the bed and began to take off his clothes. You leaned back on your elbows and laid there watching his movements. The way his muscles flexed as he pulled his shirt over his head. His strong hands undoing the buckle on his belt to then pull down his pants so he was in nothing but boxer briefs. You pulled your lip between your teeth while you enjoyed the show.

With a cocky smile on his face he leaned over you on the bed, moving so his lips barely grazed your ear. “Are you going to undress or do you need me to do it for you?” The baritone of his voice vibrated down to your core, causing your panties to dampen.

You began to undress but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head against the bed. “It’s okay dollface. Let me do it for you.” He slid his hands down the length of your arms and down your sides stopping at the hem of your shirt. He pulled the fabric up over your head, your body lifting to assist the motion. He took a moment to admire you, slowly tracing your areola with his fingertips, one at a time, and watching them harden into perfect peaks. The action made goosebumps raise across your skin.

Once he was satisfied he moved to your lower half, hooking his fingers into the waistband of both your shorts and panties. Leaning in close to your body he began to pull the fabric down your legs, immediately noticing the string of your juices attached to your panties.

“Damn baby girl, is that all for me?”You recognized a hint of pride in his voice.

Smiling you nodded and squirmed a bit on the bed underneath him. “Mmm yes Touya. Its all for you.” There was no point in hiding the lust in your voice, It was useless to pretend you didn’t need him right now.

Once you were fully naked he grabbed you by the back of your knees and pushed your legs up, settling himself between them. He rested the side of his face on your inner thigh and examined you, grazing his fingers down towards your slit and the back again, never touching where you want him to. You felt so vulnerable in this position, everything splayed out for him to see, but he made you feel safe.

His eyes met yours as he continued his teasing touches. “You are so beautiful.”

His pupils were blown, just as you imagined yours were. Finally his index finger skimmed over your opening, gathering your juices, and found purchase on your clit, rubbing small circles into the little bundle of nerves.

You let out a moan, closing your eyes and throwing your head back against the pillows. He turn his palm and slid his middle finger inside you rubbing his rough pads along your favorite spot. A heat began to collect in your core. “Eyes on me babygirl.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open as he continued his ministrations on your g-spot, adding another finger. Your hips bucked again and you began to whimper, you were getting close. He brought his face to your pussy, keeping his eyes on yours. You could feel the heat of his breath on your sensitive skin as his tongue slipped out to trace circles around your clit. Your hips started to wriggle vigorously until you were nearly riding his face. He pumped his fingers in and out of you, every so often to rubbing at the spot that he knew would have you seeing stars.

The heat grew, turning into a volcano about to errupt. Your hands grabbed at the sheets, balling into fists. “Touya.. Fuck- I’m gunnA-” But your words were cut off with a moan as you came undone. Your hips rose off the mattress and you squeezed your legs around his head. He ceased his movements, letting you ride out the wave of your climax.

Lost in a cloud of ecstasy. The release did wonders to calm your nerves. You opened your eyes trying to bring them back in focus. Suddenly you felt a tap tap on your leg and looked down. There sat Touya, head trapped in the fleshy prison of your thighs. You gasped and released him, sobering up from the orgasm he just gave you. “Oh my gosh Touya I’m so sorry!”

He chuckled, rubbing his jaw. “That’s quite alright dollface. If I died between those beautiful legs of yours I would die a happy man.” He placed a quick peck on your lips. “Besides, I know how you can make it up to me.”

Before you could register what was happening you were flipped onto your stomach and your ass was being lifted into the air. He started to rub his length along your slit, smearing your juices on the underside of his shaft. The sensation of his veiny cock rubbing your already sensitive pussy sends jolts of electricity through your body. You groan, grinding yourself back onto him.

“Mmm that feel good baby girl?” He smacks your hip, using his other hand to line himself up with your entrance. A hiss leaves his lips when he pushes himself into you, savoring the way you feel around him. He bottoms out and stills, rubbing tiny circles on your lower back. The stretch feels incredible. He fills you up perfectly, reaching to your deepest erogenous zone. His inaction starts to drive you crazy and you begin to bounce yourself on his cock.

He grabs your hips and leans over your body. “So impatient. Alright then, do you want me to start moving?”You try to grind against him but his grip is firm holding you in place.

“Use your words dollface. What is it you want me to do?”Even though you can’t see him you can hear the shit eating grin on his face.

You let out a whine. “Ple-ease Touya.. p-please move! Need to f-feeel you.”

He starts with shallow thrusts, barely enough to cause friction. You whimper burying your face into the comforter.

“Is this what you want baby girl? Huh?”His grip tightens, so much for no marks. At least its somewhere you can cover with clothes.

Tears of frustration collect at the corners of your eyes and you shake your head no. Another smack lads on your hip. “I said use your words.” This time the command came out in a growl. His thrusts, though still shallow, began to snap harder against you. You needed more.

“Harder please! Ple-ease go harder!” Your pleas were granted when he pulled almost all the way out and thrust into you hard. Once, twice, then sets a brutal pace, pounding into you. He reached forward and hooked his fingers into your mouth, causing droll to spill down your chin. You were a whimpering mess. Moans and grunts filled the apartment, volume raising as you both reached your peaks.

“Fuck- I’m close. Where do you want it baby?”His thrusts turned erratic. You were almost there too.

“Inside! Cum inside me!”Arousal had completely taken over your thoughts, your pussy was the one making the decisions now.

His hand left your mouth to find purchase around your neck, pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. His other arm wrapped around your body, grabbing your opposite shoulder and pulling you into his thrusts. He released himself inside you moaning in your ear, the pressure sending you into climax once more.

The both of you sat there a moment, steadying your breathing.

“That was..”He began.

“Necessary.”You finished.

You’re the first one to arrive at the restaurant. It was a local place, family owned, making for an intimate setting. The host seats you and you wait for the others, pulling out your phone to check for any notifications. As you look up you spot your mom walking in, she looks anxious. She notices you and smiles, almost walking into someone on her way to your reserved table.

“Hi mom.” You say with a sympathetic smile, “You good?”You rub her back in an attempt to soothe her, thinking to yourself which one is the child again?

“Oh I’ll be fine, as soon as i get a drink.” She flags a server over and orders a cocktail. You drop your hand and sigh, hoping she sticks to her promise of only one.

When her drink arrives she takes a sip, “Aahh much better.” She sighs, smacking her lips.

“They should be here soon, if you wanted to save your one drink for when we get our food..”You watched her take another sip, or more like a gulp.

“Mmm yes, yes. You’re right.”A sense of relief washed over you as you watched her put the drink down.

Your server walked up to the table. “Hello I’m Sou, and I’ll be your server for the evening. Is there anything I can get started for you? Some bread?”

“Yes we’d love some bread, and can we have water for six please? We’re waiting for some more people to arrive.” You smiled at the man.

“Actually, could you point me in the direction of the little girls room?” Your mother asked rising out of her chair. He directed her to a hallway to the right of the table and your mom was off with a quick “Be right back!”

She disappeared into the hallway right as a man with bright red hair and very large in stature entered the restaurant. You knew who he was immediately, him having the same cerulean eyes as your boyfriend. Confirming your suspicion Touya walked in behind him. You stood up and waved them over to the table, not being able to control the smile beaming on your face.

Touya got to you first “Hey babe, you look stunning.” He reached a hand around your waist and kissed you on the cheek. Then he stepped back, giving his father room to approach you. Your stomach did a somersault.

“Dad, this is Y/N.”He kept his hand resting on the small of your back to help calm your nerves a bit.

“Hello Mr. Todoroki. Its a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” You held out your hand and it was soon engulfed by his much larger one.

“The pleasure is all mine Y/N I assure you.”He smiled, which somehow made him look more intimidating. “Touya, you didn’t mention how stunningly beautiful Y/N is.” You grinned, glancing at Touya who looked like he was going to pop a blood vessel trying not to roll his eyes.

“Lets sit. Y/N is your mom here yet?”Touya quickly changed the subject.

“Yes she’s here. Shes just in the ladies room, she should be out any minute.” Sou the server returns with a basket of bread and some waters.

“So Y/N, what do you do for a living?”Mr. Todoroki asks taking a sip of his water. You give Touya the side eye. This was a subject you were hoping to avoid, unsure if his father would approve of your line of work.

“I actually own my own business.” You feel Touya’s hand squeeze your knee under the table, encouraging you to continue. “I’m a salon owner. I have a shop on the other side of town. I started off behind the chair but with the salon as busy as it is now I only do hair one day a week. The rest of the time I’m running the business.”

Mr. Todoroki eyes you from across the table and your heart starts to palpitate. Shit. Is he disappointed?

“Ah! An entrepreneur. I’m always telling Touya in life a person needs to take risks, do what makes them happy. See Touya, you could learn a thing or two from this one.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Touya gives your hand another squeeze before letting go.

You begin sharing the ins and outs of the salon world when someone clears their throat to the right of you.

You look up to see your mom, frozen in place, all the blood drained from her face. “Mom?”You start to stand.

Touya and his father turn to greet her, but upon doing so Mr. Todoroki’s face drops and he can’t seem to find the words he was about to say.

“Is this some sort of joke?” Her words were like venom, and seemed to be directed toward the large man in front of her.

“Mom what are you talking about?”You try to laugh off your moms behavior, “This is Touya and his father Mr.-”

“Enji Todoroki.”She sounded furious. You looked to your boyfriend, relieved to see he was just as confused as you were.

“Do.. you two know each other?”Touya asked hesitantly.

Mr. Todoroki finally spoke. “Mira, I-”He looked at you, studied your face, then over to his son, and back to you.

“Oh.. oh no.”

“Can someone please tell us what the hell is going on?”Touya’s volume was raising in irritation.

“This..is all my fault.”You mother said before grabbing her purse and running out of the restaurant.

“Mom!” You called after her, but she was gone.

Anger and confusion rose inside you. The evening started off perfectly, of course your mom would be the one to ruin it. But how did she know Touya’s dad? You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answer to that question.

“I..” Mr. Todoroki looked at you, his face unreadable. “I can’t be here.”He too got up and left the restaurant with haste.

“Dad!” Touya called after him, then looked at you. “Do you know what all that was about?”

“I have no idea, but I’m going to find out.”You grabbed your phone out of your purse to call your mom, but just as you unlocked the screen a text message came in, and then another.

Mom<3: I know you’re probably confused, I’m so sorry you had to find out this way..

Mom<3: I don’t know how else to tell you, so I’ll just show you. I only have one picture of your father, and it was taken the night before I found out I was pregnant.

An attachment followed the texts and when you opened it you felt your heart fall out of your butt.

It was a picture of your mom in a skin tight dress with a drink in her hand, she was laughing and leaning into the arms of a much larger man with fiery red hair and cerulean eyes. Your father. Enji Todoroki.

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

Bonus Scene (that no one asked for):

Slowly you turned to see the same look of trauma on your boyfriends face. He had been reading her texts over your shoulder, and he already knew the story of your father.

Nausea overtook you. You couldn’t speak. You dropped your phone on the table with the picture still open and the two of you sat there staring at each other.

“Touya?”A young man with split colored hair broke the silence. You both turned to look at him.

“Shou..”Touya addressed his youngest brother in a daze.

“What’s wrong?”Shouto asked, then glancing at the phone on the table he added, “Is that dad?”

#bnha smut #bnha x reader #touya todoroki smut #touya todoroki x reader #i am so sorry #female reader #reader insert #mha smut #mha x reader #dabi x reader #dabi smut #bnha lemon #mha lemon #dabi lemon #touya todoroki lemon #eyebagsbutglam #eyebagsbutglam writings

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allandoflimbo · 4 years ago

Text

Ashens (Part 3)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 3,036

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage

Month: February

Year: 2021

It had been three years since you saw your parents being murdered in your living room and since the civil war started.

Society had fallen.

First, it was the fight for the cure, then it was the fight for protection. Next, came the riots, the fight for food, and eventually, it all became a survival of the fittest.

Electricity and communication were no more. You don’t even remember the last time you saw a working TV. Family was no more. Violence and dishonesty were now the brutal answer.

These days, protection came in the form of clothing you owned and how much you had of it. After it became apparent that this virus was actually a bacteria born and flesh-eating disease, everyone did what they could to try and keep their skin protected as much as possible. It ate through the skin and took over your body like a plague. Heavy clothing equaled less chance of being infected. It didn’t take very long for clothing stores to be looted along with the grocery and drug stores.

Eventually, you’d have to make use of any clothing you found on dead bodies that were killed by assassination and not by the virus itself. You couldn’t risk that.

But even that was rare to come by. Everyone jumped at the opportunity of a clothed dead corpse. Whether it was for the scarf, the pants, shoes, or socks.

During the riots, most of the homes had all been destroyed either by fire or vandalism. Some tainted by dead bodies; murder scenes. Some eaten by the virus. You didn’t want to live in a home that was infected. Destroyed homes were ruined by the winter’s harsh snowstorms and the summer’s heavy rainfall. Because of their collapsed ceilings mixed in with the weather, it all eventually began to mold and collapse.

Life was no more, happiness and serenity were gone, except for in The Capitol.

No one could get inside The Wall. You heard rumors that it was guarded by heavy military and machine guns, and all of Hydra.

The Capitol was a place where your parents had planned for every single one of you to make use of to help you survive and live a happy life. It was supposed to be a safe haven, not this.

It was now the place that had been savagely stolen by Hydra and the evil rich. The migration into The Capitol had happened very soon after your parent’s death. The rich, elite, privileged, and only some certain politicians, were taken in.

The other politicians, you heard in rumors, had either killed themselves or were killed by other government officials, just like your parents had been. You heard rumors that this had been an undercover mission for years. They all knew how to take over the moment it was necessary.

Even the doctors and scientists had been taken with them. And you wondered if it was at their own will. Meanwhile, everyone else - people like you and Will and simple middle-class families with children - were forced to fight each other to stay alive.

A bloodbath.

The first few months you and Will had refused to fight anyone for food. That wasn’t in your moral plans. But it had eventually come a day when neither of you had eaten in three days, and the only thing left, in a dirty store off Route 95, was a loaf of bread. You, Will, and this random girl all argued until you eventually agreed on splitting it into three pieces.

The girl had been chewing her piece, devouring like she hadn’t eaten in days when her eyes landed on the tattoo on your neck, and immediately you knew she knew who you were. Her eyes grew dark and she jumped at the chance to attack you when Will came from behind, hitting her on the back of the head with a heavy bucket, making her pass out.

You knew that no one really knew what happened to your family. They all think it was your parent’s intentions for all of these horrible things to have happened. They blame you and your family for this. This only made you want to avenge your parents even more and even Will knew. This life wasn’t what they wanted, and it’s not what you wanted either.

You had been sitting one night, in the middle of a forest in Connecticut around a blazing fire, eating a fish you had just caught with your handmade spear. It had fed you both for many months. Will smiled over the fire at you, licking the meat off the bone clean.

“We’ll get there, Y/N.”

You stared at the fire in a daze. You hadn’t lost hope. Or at least you don’t think you did. Your feet had been bare for weeks and they were starting to chafe and bleed.

You wouldn’t admit it, but part of you did lose a little hope. You feared the first snowfall of the year. It was almost comical to you how your last worry at the moment was frostbite.

You took a deep breath, enjoying the taste of the Tilapia. You wrapped your heavy scarf over your shoulders.

“I know, I’m just tired. I wish I had more strength, I wish we had more strength. There’s two of us and thousands of them, Will.”

It was the first sign of doubt you had shown in months, and it surprised Will slightly.

“I know, but we can do it. I know we can.” he licked his fingers clean and then laid down on the wet and cold grass, his hands behind his head.

Could you do it? You weren’t sure anymore. You knew you wanted to kill Hydra and you wanted to overtake The Capitol. But were you two really capable of doing that? Have you two been delusional this entire time?

“Its been three years. Three years.” You said softly. Exhausted.

“True, but we’re young. And we’re smart. We have an advantage they don’t. That.” He bent one of his legs and stared up at the scars, a small smile tainting his lips, “We could always call The Avengers.”

You scoffed, running your hands through your hair as you threw the bare spine into the fire. You were a bit sad you finished it, your tummy still turning in hunger.

“What Avengers? Hydra destroyed their home, everything. They tried to fight and they lost. Worst than when Thanos beat them. And to make matters worse, this is a virus, it’s not something they can necessarily control. They’ve become overpowered, even the damn Avengers are overpowered now by Hydra. This is like a horror movie that will never end. It’s time we face the facts.”

Will smirked.

“I don’t know if I buy it. You mean to tell me even Bruce fucking Banner couldn’t break that damn wall?”

You gave him a glare.

“I don’t think the goal here is to break The Wall. If anything that would ruin the purpose, don’t you think?” you picked up a small and harmless rock and threw it at his chest, making him cringe, “dipshit.”

Will continued to stare up at the stars. The night was midnight black, and now since there was no longer any electricity, you could even see the milky-way.

“I don’t see this ending badly.”

You wish you had his good heart and good soul. You furrow your brows at him.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“This whole thing. We’ll fix it, I know we will. I don’t know how, but it will happen. I’m sure of it.”

You consider his words and nod. You slowly take your time to get up and walk over to where he is. You pull your heavy apocalyptic-style hood over your head and scooch over closer to him. You cross your own arms behind your head, also looking up at the stars. They looked beautiful, and for the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to feel even a little bit serene. This is why you enjoyed Will. He was your best friend and your guardian angel.

“You really think so?” You ask.

Will turned his head over and looked at you. You did the same thing, staring back into his eyes.

You were suddenly afraid; afraid of losing your friend. What would you do without a good soul like him to keep you sane and strong?

“I do.” There was no trace of doubt in his voice.

Still, you tried to believe him, you really did.

You and Will began to fend for survival. You often thought of killing your parent’s murderer when you would both be laying under a tree in the cold of the night trying to fall asleep. You would never forget that face. You and Will would both alternate between being watchmen to guard your food and weapons. You mostly used the weapons just for hunting, but you never knew what could happen. Still, you remained alert and vigilant.

You both never ventured too much into the city, trying to stay on the outskirts as much as you possibly could. But one day you had cut your hand while trying to spear more seafood in a riverbed, and the cut ended up being deeper than you could manage. Not only did you fear it to get in the way of your hunting, but you also didn’t want your blood seeping in through your clothing, making it more versatile to the virus.

You both found a looted, but in not-too-bad-of-a-condition, dollar store just off the freeway. You both climbed over some of the abandoned cars, making sure to look in each one just in case there was something worth taking.

You got to the entrance of the store, and Will told you he would be outside waiting and keeping guard while you looked for some bandages.

The store was almost completely empty, yet you found your way into the med isle, stepping over fallen light fixtures and useless items like beanie babies and dusted up Happy Birthday cards. You were rummaging through some boxes when you heard it.

A scream.

Will.

Your heart jumped into your throat and you acted on autopilot. You didn’t second guess, you ran through the doors and over the fallen cable wires without hesitation. Your eyes searched the eery and abandoned parking lot. You didn’t see him and you screamed Will’s name over and over again, running around the deserted parking lot. You knew it was dangerous, but you had to find him. You heard a groan and you quickly saw him lying against the curb off to the side of the highway, his arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

You feared the worst.

“No, no,” you repeated to yourself. You tried to be careful to not slip on the black ice beneath your leather boots.

You ran towards his fallen body and the first thing you say was how pale he was. His face was emotionless. Most likely shock. You crouched down next to him and you pulled his arm away from his chest. You saw a knife sticking out from his upper abdomen and blood.

A lot of blood.

He was panting and it didn’t take you long to look up across the street. There was a man faced down into the pavement. You swallowed thickly, knowing there was a fight and Will had gotten hurt.

“He saw you and he kept saying he wanted your coat, he was a loon and he had a machete, and he — and he—” Will panted.

“Shhh, shhh.” You hugged him tightly to your body as you rocked him back and forth.

“I wanted to protect you.” “I know, Will. I know.” You cried, closing your eyes tightly together and holding him closer.

He barely coughed out, his eyes rolling back.

“It hurts.” He cried.

You saw heavy tears cloud your vision and you felt a sense of impending doom.

“I got you, Will, I got you.” You don’t know if you were speaking to him or yourself.

He stretched his arm up and grabbed yours, pulling your embrace tighter around his body.

“We’ll get them, Y/N. We’ll avenge your parents, I promise. I’m too strong for this.” He squeaked, “I won’t die.” He said through clenched teeth.

Tears ran down your face as you watched him grab his own open abdomen.

“You are, Will. You are so strong.” Your face tilted to the side as more sobs racked through your body, “Please, don’t leave me. I can’t be alone. I can’t do this alone.”

You felt his nimble fingers dig into your elbow, smearing you with his blood.

“I’m so sorry.” He whimpered, some blood escaping his lips this time.

“Please, please.” You cried over and over again, holding him tighter to your chest.

It didn’t take much longer for you to feel him go limp in your arms. Your body shook with your cries when you repeated it back to yourself: Will was dead.

You didn’t allow yourself to cry for too long. You wanted to but you knew you needed to keep moving, and being this exposed could only cost you your life.

You quickly found a nice area, the nicest you could possibly find in an arena of death, and you carefully laid Will’s body down. Ironically, it was in a field of dead daisies. You delicately draped his arms over his chest and you whispered your goodbyes to him. You took a moment to cherish who he was. He was a lonely son of a construction worker and an accountant. His bother died two years ago after being infected. He had been in pain for a long time, but he had a good heart, and he strived to stay at your side to help you. You let your tears fall on your hands as you held his for just a few more minutes.

No more than a half-hour later after finding some bandages, you were back in the woods, continuing your journey south. You pulled out the compass that Will had given you, just to be sure. It was close to dusk when you heard the sound of a river running down below. Your stomach grumbled, suddenly feeling very hungry again. You had been out of luck today, finding not even one squirrel or deer. Not even a bird.

You hadn’t eaten since that morning when you and Will had split a couple of spare pumpkin seeds. Your chest tightened at the thought of him again. You felt awful for just leaving him in the field like that. You knew someone would find him soon and take the clothing off his body to keep for their own. But you had no choice. And there was no time for a proper burial, at least not in the middle of a city like that.

You continued your walk more and more, the boots that you had stolen off a girl’s body, squishing in the mood and dirt beneath your feet. You were thankful it hadn’t snowed yet this year. The cold was already unbearable as it was, if there was snow it would only make your journey worst. You couldn’t take it for granted.

You don’t know how much farther you walked since you had no watch. No one had watches anymore. Time didn’t exist anymore. But, it would help in order for you to estimate your location and how far you had left in your journey. You were guessing, realistically, it had been about an hour, judging by how much darker the sky now was.

You knew you needed to find a corner to settle in and build a fire. You needed a place to sleep for the night. Food would have to wait until tomorrow, you would go to sleep hungry again.

You take a deep breath and rest your hand on a large tree. You were extremely fatigued, in desperate need of water. You had been dehydrated for a while. You knew your canteen was running low so you had to savor as much as you could.

You took necessary sips here and there.

You drift your eyes over the horizon and through the broken branches until your gaze lands of a patch of grass that looked decent enough for a rest stop. You would lay your dirty rag you call a blanket there and get some rest.

You slowly started your walk, tucking your canteen back into your bag.

You heard owls in the sky around you and you grew worried as you began to realize that with Will now gone you were truly alone. There was no way you could avenge your parents alone. You couldn’t go into The Capitol alone.

You had no chance.

Your hands grew clammy and you started feeling worried sick, your mind now in overdrive.

You were screwed. You were all alone and screwed and there was no chance in hell you were going to come out of this alive. Suddenly, you find yourself angry at Will. Angry for lying to you and saying that everything would be okay.

How could he say that? How could he lie to make you believe it was true? You wouldn’t be capable of doing this alone? Even the Avengers couldn’t do this, even the Earth’s mightiest heroes could not win against Hydra, yet here you were trying to overthrow an entire city filled with them?

You remember the people talking about how their compound had been bombed and destroyed. They didn’t have a home anymore. They had three missions where they tried to overthrow it and failed miserably. It pained you to see that your parents hope for the future had become a living hell of blood and war. How could Will have so much faith in you? You remember the feel of his limp body in your arms and your sadness is unbearable.

More tears found your eyes and you rubbed your wet nose over the back of your sleeve. Something heavy caught the tip of your boot, and with a shriek you found yourself tumbling down and down.

Then, everything went dark.

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #winter solider fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader series #ashens chapter 3

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carewyncromwell · 4 years ago

Photo

A continuation of that POTC AU (previous part here) -- here’s Captain “Carey Weasley” (AKA Carewyn Cromwell), with Captain Orion Amari’s First Mate, the one and only Murphy McNully! This is my first time trying to draw McNully, and uh...DUDE. You make a SICK pirate, mate. <33 His outfit is inspired by Joshamee Gibbs’s (whose role he kind of fills here, alongside Quartermaster Skye), and his chair is inspired by this model used by Sir Thomas Fairfax in the 17th century, which was one of the first self-steering wheeled chairs ever made -- later in the 18th century, a nicer model called the Bath chair was developed and soon became the standard, though it remained only in the hands of the wealthy until the end of the century. (I could see Orion putting in the work to steal one for his buddy, once he catches wind of them, though. XDDD)

McNully’s carving himself a new prosthetic wooden leg, since when Orion’s pirate crew first moved to take over Carewyn’s ship, she cut Murphy’s left wooden leg off with her cutlass while trying to beat the pirates back away from her crew. (McNully lost both legs above the knee, so his wooden prosthetics are made up of two pieces with a metal joint secured together with two leather straps, sort of like this.) Fortunately things have been smoothed over a bit, now that Carewyn and Orion have realized who the other is and Orion has similarly let McNully in on the revelation too. McNully then assumed the responsibility of “watching the prisoner” while Orion, Skye, and some other crew members headed ashore to Tortuga for supplies. It didn’t take long for Carewyn to migrate up to the railing of Orion’s ship so as to get a better look at the infamous and completely filthy pirate haven, and Murphy rolled up beside her so they could talk.

“It’s funny, really,” McNully said with a wry smile. “It was me what suggested we try capturing you next.”

Carewyn glanced at Orion’s First Mate in surprise.

“There’d been a lot of talk about Carey Weasley, the youngest Captain in the entire British Navy, and the respect he’d garnered from the crown for his heroism fighting the Spanish,” McNully explained. “I reckoned capturing someone that well known would be a real blow to the Navy, and by extension, Cutler Beckett and his Company. Your capture on its own would likely hurt their morale by a good 35%.”

McNully’s expression then turned more thoughtful.

“...I almost regret it now, considering you seem to be a decent sort -- and I can’t reckon this whole thing will reflect too well on you. There’s a 42.5% chance you won’t advance in rank much further, and worse, a 15% chance you’ll be actively demoted, if they catch wind you surrendered without a fight...even if it was to save your crew, which was objectively a very noble thing to do.”

He smiled a bit guiltily. Carewyn offered him a small smile in return.

“If you hadn’t suggested going after me, though, I wouldn’t have ended up here and found out Orion was alive,” she pointed out reassuringly.

McNully smiled a little more fully. “True!”

He looked out at the horizon briefly, as if checking to see if the jollyboat was returning. Then he returned his focus to Carewyn.

“You know, though...there might be a way for us to use our new truce strategically, so that we both make it out ahead.”

Carewyn turned around, leaning her back against the railing and crossing her arms.

“Oh?”

McNully’s smile spread into more of a smirk. “You’re a well-respected officer of the Navy...and yet you’re no friend of the East India Trading Company and, more importantly, you don’t want Orion or any of us to die. We’re pirates, but our Captain is fond of you, and quite frankly, we could do with some allies, in the face of everyone trying to kill us. So here’s what I propose -- we let you escape. We sail through waters the Navy’s going to passing through, supposedly to go pick up medicine we couldn’t find on Tortuga -- and while we’re engaged in sea battle, you bust out of the brig, help the British soldiers ‘fight us off,’ and then swing over to their ship. We then retreat because we lost our ‘cargo’ -- namely, you -- and we can tell we’re losing. We keep the Navy ship from following us...but they still get one of their greatest heroes back, crashing onto the scene in a blaze of glory. If we play our cards right, I reckon there’s a 48.3% chance you might even get a promotion when all’s said and done...that is, if you think you can manage escaping the brig on your own.”

Carewyn gave a light scoff, her lips spreading into a small smirk of her own.

“Yours wouldn’t be the first one I’ve escaped. You should probably lock me in irons, for good measure -- it’ll be more convincing that I escaped, if I still have one on my wrist when I make it up on deck.”

The plan went into effect once Orion and the others returned to the Artemis and they set sail away from Tortuga. Although Carewyn had expressed confidence in her ability to escape the brig, it didn’t startle and impress Orion any less to see Carewyn up on deck after having been locked in a secure cell with both of her hands locked together in the heaviest shackles they had. She even ended up using the shackle on her wrist as a weapon, knocking out three of his men with it before she reached Orion at the ship’s railing.

Orion couldn’t help but think he’d never feel such vivication again as he did in that intense, wonderful sword fight they had upon the deck of the Artemis, parrying and slashing their swords at each other as they migrated up to the helm, leapt up into the rigging, and balanced on the edge of the Artemis’s railing before Carewyn finally got close enough that she could leap over to the HMS Dauntless.

Orion slammed his sword up against hers, pressing Carewyn back against the ropes. Although to most any clueless observer, it looked like they were still hotly engaged in battle, Orion’s voice was very soft when he spoke.

“This is your chance,” he murmured.

“Yes,” said Carewyn.

Orion’s free hand had grabbed onto the ropes to stabilize himself over her as their chests touched. His heart rate quickened, even as he kept his dark eyes squarely on hers.

Now that the moment had come for them to part, the little time they’d been able to share seemed far, far too brief...

Carewyn’s own blue eyes rippled solemnly.

“Be safe, Orion.”

And without taking another moment to breathe, she brought up her foot and kicked him full on in the stomach. The blow threw him off her with a grunt, and she leapt up into the rigging, grabbed a loose piece of rope, and swung over to the deck of the Dauntless.

Orion cradled his stomach as Skye ran over to help him up.

“Captain -- are you okay?”

A small, fond smile flickered over Orion’s face.

“Yes.”

He then shot to his feet with a much more grim and urgent expression on his face. He had to make this retreat looking convincing, after all.

“All hands, fall back! Fall back!”

Carewyn’s return to Port Royal -- as McNully had predicted -- was full of honors and acclaim, including a promotion to the rank of Commodore. It seemed that her being the only officer who had managed to escape the infamous Captain Orion Amari’s captivity made her a hero in the eyes of the British Empire. Portrait miniatures had been painted of her and sold both on and outside of Port Royal, and soon quite a few ladies were sending love letters and throwing themselves at Carewyn in an attempt to woo her, enthralled with her fame and handsome face. The overabundance of attention greatly amused Carewyn’s surrogate brothers Bill and Charlie, once they’d gotten over the anxiety they’d felt when she returned safe and sound. Percy in particular had taken Carewyn’s capture very hard, given that he’d been her Lieutenant at the time, and had resolved to make sure that no pirate ever felt bold enough to do something like that again.

The most prominent pursuer of Carewyn’s hand, however, was Port Royal’s Governor, Alphard Farrier, who was once again determined to arrange a marriage between her and his daughter, Jules. @cursebreakerfarrier With Carewyn now a well-respected Commodore of the Fleet known for breaking out of a heavily locked pirate brig and facing off against Orion Amari single-handedly, he knew it would be advantageous both to his family and to his own anti-piracy policies to have her in Port Royal permanently as his son-in-law. He even went so far as to have Jules arrive at Carewyn’s promotion ceremony in the fanciest, most fashionable dress he could get shipped in from London, in the hopes that it would catch the young Commodore’s eye. It did -- but not for the reason the Governor had hoped.

“Might I have a moment, Miss Farrier?” said Carewyn, inclining her head and back in a polite bow.

Jules rather quickly took Carewyn’s offered hand and let the new Commodore lead her away from her father. Carewyn didn’t speak again until they were up on the wall of the fort beside the large ship’s bell, looking out to sea -- in other words, when they were well away from everyone else.

“Are you all right?” muttered Carewyn. Her eyebrows had come together in concern.

Jules’s face grew much less lady-like and polite, betraying exhaustion and some irritation.

“...Not...exactly,” she gasped lowly. “But when you’re -- stuck in this kind of...torture chamber...I guess that’s -- appropriate...”

She indicated her chest, which looked quite a bit more restrained than usual, as she fanned herself a bit faster.

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed and she sighed in aggravation. “For goodness sake -- ”

She glanced around. Even if she’d managed to get them away from prying ears, she could still see plenty of people watching them, even if they quickly looked away when they saw she’d noticed them -- no doubt they were trying to discern if there was an engagement in the works.

‘Damn,’ Carewyn swore to herself. ‘I can’t try to loosen anything, while everyone’s gawking...’

“Try to focus on your breathing,” she advised under her breath. “We’ll talk slowly. Bit by bit. That way you can make sure you’re taking deep breaths.”

Jules smiled slightly in gratitude. “...Thanks, Carey.”

Jules, like the Weasleys, knew that Carewyn was really a girl, but couldn’t help but call her that, even when they were in private. She’d figured it out after mentally connecting “Carey Weasley” to a young red-haired peasant girl she used to hear singing in the streets outside her window in the Governor’s mansion in the evenings.

“You were always so far off, so I never got a good look at your face,” Jules had explained with a smile when Carewyn and Bill asked her how she’d figured it out, “but I remembered your hair and how much it sounded like you were smiling, when you were singing. I hear it when you’re talking a lot of the time, too. I don’t hear a lot of people’s smiles like that.”

After that, Jules had become one of Carewyn’s closest friends. It also prompted Bill and Jules to reach out more to each other, which resulted in Bill ending up head over heels in love. Carewyn suspected Jules’s feelings were just as strong as well, but given that Bill was a priest who didn’t even have a full congregation of his own yet and didn’t come from money himself, it was likely he was biding his time to court Jules properly, until he knew he had a chance of convincing her father.

Jules took several deep breaths. Once Carewyn was sure her friend looked a bit more steady on her feet, she folded her arms behind her back in standard Navy posture and spoke again.

“Bill sends his regards.”

Jules’s dark eyes sparked a bit.

“He does?”

She took another two deep breaths before adding, “...Is...that all he said?”

“Well, he did say as an aside that he couldn’t stop thinking about you during service the other day,” said Carewyn with a wry smile. “Apparently the mention of ‘the beauty of Heaven’s angels’ kept bringing your face to his mind.”

Jules’s face flushed. Carewyn chuckled lowly through a closed smile, so as not to cover her mouth with her hand like she might normally -- she knew the gesture appeared rather lady-like.

“It’s a shame your father has such tunnel vision on me,” Carewyn said coolly. “There’s a far better Weasley to select as his son-in-law, were he only to look.”

Jules grimaced.

“I know,” she said. She took a few more deep breaths. “And well...the only reason he is so focused on you...is because you were able to escape Orion Amari.”

“Captain,” Carewyn slipped in before she could stop herself.

When Jules blinked in surprise, Carewyn turned toward the horizon with the most offhand shrug she could manage.

“Captain Orion Amari.”

Sensing Jules’s discerning gaze on her face, Carewyn kept her gaze on the sea. Behind her back, she rubbed her thumbs along her healed palms absently.

“...Carey...” said Jules quietly, “...is something wrong?”

Carewyn swallowed. She hadn’t told anyone else the full story of what had happened -- after Percy had reacted so hostilely toward her being captured, she hadn’t dared tell Bill or Charlie everything while he was present, and she hadn’t yet had the opportunity to talk to either of them alone, with how quickly her promotion ceremony was thrown together.

Her blue eyes flickered over her shoulder at the bystanders behind them. They were far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to hear, even if they were still looking over so avidly...

“...Captain Amari...” she murmured as softly as she could, “...let me escape.”

Jules looked surprised.

“It’s a long story...but we knew each other once. I bandaged him up and hid him from the Navy, when we were young. When he discovered who I was...he and his crew agreed to let me go.”

Jules stared at Carewyn, her dark eyes wide with amazement. Then her gaze softened visibly and she smiled.

“...He must’ve been grateful for what you did for him.”

Carewyn’s blue eyes softened upon the sparkling sea.

“It wasn’t gratitude. Orion...is simply a good man...pirate he may be.”

The memory of him bandaging her hands -- of his rippling dark eyes as they bore into hers -- floated again over her mind.

“I can’t act like I knew, or even thought seriously, that our stars would align again…but even with that…I’d imagined a life much better than this for you.”

“Well,” said Jules with a smile, “it seems like those two things...shouldn’t be mutually exclusive.”

Carewyn turned her gaze back to Jules at last, smiling wryly. “Better not let your father hear you say that.”

Carewyn and Jules talked casually for the next half-hour, with Carewyn taking care to make sure their conversation was spaced out enough that Jules could catch her breath. After a while, it seemed the length of their conversation had attracted the Governor’s attention (no doubt he was getting a bit restless, not being sure if things were going according to plan), and had asked Carewyn to give Jules and him some privacy. And so Carewyn reluctantly left Jules and the Governor alone on top of the wall of the fort.

It could only have been about ten or fifteen minutes when Carewyn was alerted by Governor Farrier’s screams. Jules -- clearly not having been able to catch her breath properly, while in the midst of a quick-paced argument with her father -- had fainted right off the fort’s wall and landed in the water below. Her heart racing with panic, Carewyn led a battalion of soldiers down to the dock below, desperate to reach her friend.

When they arrived, they found Jules choking up water on the deck, her fancy dress discarded, her horrible corset cut off, and three men standing around her. Two of them were red-garbed British soldiers -- the other was a man with dark brown dreadlocks under an emerald green bandana and black kohl around his rippling dark eyes.

Carewyn’s heart leapt into her throat when their eyes met.

It was Orion.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #murphy mcnully #carewyn cromwell #skye parkin #orion amari #jules farrier #other people's mcs #percy weasley #charlie weasley #my writing #my art #my fanfiction #potc au #au #pirates of the caribbean #well now THIS looks more like the plot of the first movie #though with carey having the medallion not jules and with charlie being the blacksmith not bill...#and of course with carey not actively hating orion the way norrington hates jack... >:3 #there are definitely going to be some differences here #but yeah um mcnully turned out a lot better than I expected??#yes that's a modified snitch tattoo on his arm #kind of like his snitch pin in canon #and it was fun to give him and carewyn some one-on-one time too <3 #honestly I'm sure a lot of the men of port royal were also kind of stuck on carewyn the way the ladies were #but because this is the 18th century in a town that was originally founded by the catholic spanish they wouldn't admit it XD #I see the pirates being a helluva a lot more gay than the regular townsfolk #because honestly what's better than pirates?#gay pirates 8D #LGBTQ pride people

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d0llhousess · 4 years ago

Text

unexpected sight

⇢ pairing: Momoharu Hanazono x f!reader

⇢ requested?: yes

Anon Requested: Hope ur havin a great day.but um i was wondering if i can request momoharu peeping on the manger of the girls basketball team on accident.And whenever he see her all he thinks of is her in her bra and panties.Then he just snaps at her telling her to leave him alone but at the end he apologized.Also reader is a first yr and Madoka sister. But he never tell her that what he did. I feel like this is weird if it is just ignore it. This is also my first time requesting something.

⇢ warnings/tags?: strong language, light nudity, light angst, slightly nsfw?

⇢ word count: approx. 2.2k

⇢ summary: Momoharu doesn’t make it a habit to peek in on others, yet somehow the one instance where his eyes land itself on an unknown peep hole, he is met with the bare vision of a friend, you. Now he doesn’t know how to even be in the same area as you.

⇢ a/n: listen, this gave me so many issues, and was a struggle to write because I’m so not comfortable writing Momoharu yet. I hope this is what you hoped for, Anon, and despite the issues, I did have a fun time writing it! I really do hope you enjoy and thank you for reading! Also I am so sorry for the wait!!

⤆ Back to the Masterlist ~ crossposted on ao3 ⤇

Momoharu has shit luck.

Well, He believes he has shit luck, and with the way his life constantly plays out, why wouldn’t he?

It just seems like with each complete turn the Earth makes, his luck just gets shitter and shitter, and today appeared to be the shittiest. Teachers seemed to be getting even more annoying, and his classmates were grating.

Hell, by the time he made it to the boy’s locker room, a steady headache was surely starting to pound away at his last bit of patience. So, who could blame him for not thinking straight?

He didn’t put the hole in the wall.

Shit, he forgot that it was there, and that unfortunate failure of his brain caused him to place his eye right over the hole because, hey, what’s the worst that he could see?

Apparently the universe decided to, bless,curse him with the sight of a smooth, bare skin of a young woman’s stomach.

Of course, the hole was a clear gateway to the girls’ locker room.

He should’ve reared back, snapped his eyes away from the small eye-sized hole and forget the smooth display of skin he’d just witnessed. Yet, he didn’t. He was frozen. Eyes non-blinking as he watched the young woman tug a baggy gym shirt over her out of sight head, and then drop her regulated uniform skirt, exposing thighs that he was fucking sure would be soft to touch.

With a bated breath, he watched as the girl stepped father away from the unknown peak hole, her face slowly coming into his view and suddenly it felt as if someone sucker punched him right in the gut--because holy fuck that girl was you.

You, the manager of the girls’ basketball team.

You, the person that was the first to volunteer and help Nano out, even though he was sure you already had your hands tied with the girls’ team.

You, a girl who somehow was a daily fixture of the boys team despite not formally being involved with any of them and who was also a year his junior.

Momoharu damn near stopped breathing.

His body finally reacted, eyes breaking away from the sight of you slightly bending over to tug your gym shorts over your smooth, naked thighs as he retreated to the other side of the boys’ locker room, far from the offending peep hole.

His heart was racing faster than it ever had during practice. Fuck, he was going to have to face you in just a few short minutes. How was he supposed to look you in the eye knowing he’d just seen you in an intimate, private moment. Shit, how was he supposed to look at you without imaging your damn near perfect breast, and smooth thighs that his hands were practically shaking to grasp.

Plus, it wasn’t as if you weren’t attractive to him before.

Hell, he had to hear from his brother damn near 24/7 about how they somehow managed not to get one cute girl to help out with the team, but two--and he somewhat agreed. You had sweet almost doll-like features, an insanely helpful and caring personality and apparently a damn near sinful body to match.

Momoharu let out a deep, heavy sigh. His eyes shutting for a brief moment before immediately blinking back open because all he could see in the forefront of his mind was you. Inhaling slowly, he turned to his locker and began to slowly prepare for practice, ignoring his teammates and friends‘ loud chatter as they slowly filled the club room.

Once he was in the gym, he tried to ignore your light voice as you spoke to the girls on the other side of the gym. He tried to not let his gaze wander to your place on the sidelines as you timed the girl’s wind sprints. He definitely did not allow his mind to wander, his gaze to linger.

One could even say he was flat out ignoring your existence.

Even once the girls were done with their practice and you migrated to the boys half of the court, eagerly speaking to your sister and Nano, he did not acknowledge you. Instead he kept his focus on the task at hand and frankly, it didn’t seem like you noticed anything abnormal.

Well, until you began to hand out water to each of the boys towards the final minutes of their practice.

You approached Momoharu with a soft smile on your face as you offered the cold beverage to him, and the moment his eyes met yours, he almost choked on his spit. Simply because his brain was a fucking traitor and decided to flash that alluring scene from the locker room, the scene he was not supposed to be a witness to.

Rather than accepting the cold beverage with his usual placid expression and small talk, he practically snatched the bottle from your hand and stalked out of the gym. He didn’t see the mixture of confusion and hurt on your face. No, he was too occupied with fleeting images of your body in a state of undress.

He could feel a sense of guilt begin to make its way onto his traitorous mind. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking of you in this manner, to be allowing his mind to sullying the image of you with lewd thoughts about a moment you, yourself wasn’t even aware of.

It was dirty, and a bit despicable. Well, at least to him it was.

Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Even after he’d gotten home, and attempted to close his eyes to rest, images of your curves fluttered to the forefront of his mind. His dreams were plagued with your soft, playful voice, beckoning him to run his hands over each curve and contour of your body. Fuck, his morning routine was even cursed with images of you bending over once you’d dropped that damned skirt.

There was no way he could face you, not when his brain seemed set on imaging every scenario that involved you in a state of undress.

So, he began to avoid you.

It was a simple enough task. The pair of you were in two different years so it wasn’t as if you shared classes. Plus, you were busy with the girls’ team so it wasn’t like you were actively seeking him out often. The only problem was when you helped Nano out. Then he had to brush away any interaction with you.

If Nano asked him to take something to you, he’d ignore her, causing her to turn to another member of the basketball team.

If you approached him with that damned soft (teasing his mind tried to convince him) smile, he’d immediately retreat the other way or all around escape to the boys’ locker room.

Shit, even when you offered to help him improve his shooting by acting as a resident ball girl (fetching and catching the ball so he didn’t have to stop his shooting motion every time his shot didn’t go in), he snapped at you simply because he could not manage being alone with you for a lingering period of time without the safety net of the others around.

He tried to not pay attention to the looks of hurt you sent him, to ignore the way your lips twisted into a pout every time he blew you off. It wasn’t like it was his mission to hurt you, he just needed to purge his mind of every impure thought that kept entering his mind at the mere sound of your voice.

This went on for weeks, the two of you falling into such a tense and awkward dance that the people surrounding began to notice the unspoken tension in the air.

It wasn’t until a rainy day when practice had been canceled due to an upcoming storm, and Momoharu approached the gym for some time to practice alone did he come to face the hurt he caused you.

Pausing on the concrete steps to the gym, he hesitated as he heard your soft voice accompanied by the familiar sound of a basketball hit the waxed gym floors. Of course, Sora would be practicing and you and Nano were helping him. Stopping at the entrance of the gym, he caught a diagonal view of your face, a pout on your lips, arms crossed over your chest as you spoke to the blonde just out of his view.

“Do you think I did something to him?” He heard you ask, voice riddled with confusion as your brows furrowed. It didn’t take a genius to guess who the two of you were discussing, and he felt a slight pang sting through his chest.

“No,” He overheard Nano say, “Maybe he’s just going through something right now, ya know? It probably has nothing to do with you.”

Momoharu watched as the pout on your lips twisted into a small frown, and from your expression he could tell you didn’t believe a word that’d escaped Nano’s mouth. You thought you’d actually done something to offend him. That you were the cause of his short answers, and avoidance. When to him that really wasn’t the case. You weren’t in the wrong, he was.

Now, he felt even more like a piece of shit.

He exhaled before stepping into the gym, both your head and Nano’s turning his direction once they heard the squeak of his sneakers against the waxed floors.

“Yo,” He stuttered out in a greeting, as he watched the frown on your face deepen. He expected you to ignore him, because he’s been on the other side of a cold shoulder from a Yabuuchi before. Yet, you face his gaze head on, and returned his greeting.

The gym was quiet beside the familiar sound of Sora bouncing the basketball down the court, and Momoharu let out a tentative sigh.

“Can we talk?” He questioned, watching as you tilted your head and narrowed your eyes as if you were trying to look for some sort of double meaning in his words.

He was sure you would deny his request because of the way he treated you for the past few weeks, but you nodded, and even followed him back outside of the gym for some sort of privacy away from Sora and Nano.

You didn’t speak, obviously waiting for him to say whatever he had to say, and Momoharu found himself at a loss. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck as his eyes avoided you, because fuck what was he supposed to say?

That he’d been so short with you and avoiding you because he caught a full strip show of you in your underwear? That the reason he didn’t speak to you was because his dreams had been filled with your enticing form, and soft voice. That every time he laid his eyes on you, his mind was immediately sent back to him looking through a fucking peephole at your unsuspecting form?

Fuck no, he couldn’t say that.

He lets out another deep exhale, before looking back at you, “Sorry,” He manages to say without stammering, and a singular eyebrow raises on your face.

“For?” You simply question, your gaze still hard and un-moving as your head tilted to face him fully.

“Being shitty towards you, “ He responds, and he watches as you stare at him, feeling as if you were peeling back every layer of his tone and expression, like you were figuring out exactly why he’d been shitty towards you. Yet to his surprise, you just shrug, a small grin appearing on your lips.

“Well it took you long enough,” You stated, head shaking slightly, “I thought you were going to stay in your little asshole funk forever.”

Momoharu snorted, hands going into the pocket of his gym shorts, “Well I’m over it now,” He mumbled out, and your grin widened even more.

“Good,” You say, a playful tilt to your voice, “Because a week more and I was gonna have Chiaki kick your ass for me.”

A chuckle escaped him, and he reached out to ruffle your hair before passing you into the gym. You follow, still informing him that even if you didn’t enlist his brother to help you, that you probably would’ve just beaten him up yourself, causing another chuckle to leave his lips as he walks in front of you.

Sure his brain isn’t quite over seeing you in such a state of undress, but it was truly unfair of him to just ignore you because he decided to peak in on an unknown hole.

He was just glad that you were understanding enough to not poke him for more information about his distance.

Yet, even with the now dissipated awkward tension gone, there was still something tense about the air surrounding the two of you, and Momoharu prayed to high heaven that you didn’t notice the heat behind his dark gaze from now on.

#filled request #momoharu hanazono #momoharu hanazono x reader #ahiru no sora #ahiru no sora x reader #onseshot

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haileygarciasunshine · 5 years ago

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Superhero’s Assemble

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,869

Warning: Swearing, Violence

Summary: The reader is renown hero, however she needs all the help she can get when a new enemy comes around.

Mentions: Avengers, Aquaman (Arthur), Deadpool (Wade), Negasonic Teenage Warhead (Ellie).

Taglist

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Current Writing Challenge

Your hands began to sweat as your body tensed.

“Hey.” Wade nudged your shoulder gently. “It’ll be okay, Kid. Tony loves you, he’d do anything for you.” He reassured.

Letting out a shaky breath you let a shiver rake down your spine.

“Tony doesn’t just like anyone kid, you know that.” Wade continued.

“Wade.” Your fear taking over. A new villain that nobody had heard of nor knew anything about had shown up on the scene kidnapping your friend Steve Trevor. Wade had informed you, that it would be reckless going into battle alone with someone who's much stronger than Thanos. Wade had gotten invited to the Avengers celebration ball and talked you into being his plus one for the event.

You were standing in the hallway, in your gown. It was a strapless baby blue color, that went down to your knees in the front, but went down to your ankles in the back. Pairing it with a pair of black heels and clutch. Vanessa, had helped you with your hair and makeup. She had put your hair in an up-do, with a few tendrils hanging. Even with the heels, you hadn’t come close to Wade in his height.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s get in there.” He stated holding his elbow out for you to take.

As you walked into the room, you felt heat rise in your cheeks. Quickly you glanced down at your shoes as you felt the eyes of everyone in the room, fall upon you.

Wade led you to an area that wasn’t occupied by anyone.

“Will you be okay if I get a drink?” He questioned in a protective manor.

You nodded your head as you hummed in response. As soon as, Wade left your side you felt your panic on the brink. Attempting to calm yourself down you looked out the window, looking at the city lights.

“What’re they doing here?” Clint questioned, turning to Natasha.

She gazed at Clint in confusion before she followed his gaze. “Uh oh. That’s not a good sign.” She stated. “I’ll go inform Cap.”

“Cap.” Natasha interrupted the conversation Steve was having with Bucky and Sam.

Picking up on the urgency in her voice, worry washed over his expression.

“She’s here.”

“She- Are you sure Nat?”

“See for yourself.” She gestured subtly towards you.

The three men followed he gesture gazing towards your figure, staring out the window.

“Shit.” Steve muttered.

“Who is that?” Bucky questioned.

“That’s Y/N.” Natasha responded. “She’s...She’s notorious for her Aerokinesis and Electrokinesis.”

“What does that even mean?” Sam questioned.

Joining the group Clint responded. “It means that she is one of the most powerful being’s on the planet.”

"One of the most sought after people.” Wanda added, as she joined the group.

“Those who believe in the rumors call her sparks.” Natasha finished.

“What is she doing here?” Wanda questioned.

Pepper joined the group. “I have no idea, but whatever reason it is...It’s not good.”

A dark and ominous feeling washed over you. Snapping your head to the party in front of you, your gaze searched the crowd.

“Hey, kid. What is it?” Wade quickly joined your side.

“I....I don’t know.” You stated not removing your gaze from the crowd.

“We’ve got company kid.” Wade muttered.

His statement causing you to gaze at him with confusion. Before you had the chance to question, there was a small group of people that joined you.

“Y/N?” A tall blonde man questioned in front of you.

“Yes?” You answered skeptically.

“I’m Steve Rogers.” Gesturing to himself. “This is Wanda, Pepper, Natasha, Sam, Clint and Bucky.”

You greeted them, before the dark feeling came back. Raising your glance, you began scoping out the crowd again.

“Kid.” Wade hissed, as he nudged your shoulder, in attempt of bringing your attention back to the group.

“Kid.” He hissed again, louder this time. “What’s going on with you?”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry.” Wade chuckled. “She’s normally not like this.”

“It’s alright.” Clint responded. “We all have our days.”

The realization dawned on you. Not only were you at a celebration at the Avengers tower, but the crowd of people weren’t normal citizens either. Most of them were well known superhero’s that you were friends with. Furrowing your eyebrows at the realization you frowned, while dropping your gaze to your shoes. If you were in the safest room in the world, why did you feel as if something bad was about to happen?

As the group attempted to pretend they didn’t notice your actions, they continued their chat. Looking around the room, your gaze fell upon a man that was standing by the window on the phone. His actions caused suspicion to bubble up. Tucking his phone back into his pocket, a luminous red light on the inside of his jacket caught your eyes.

“Wade.” You nudged him not taking your eyes off of the man across the room.

Wade had just made a joke, causing everyone in the group to laugh. Taking your eyes off of the man for a second he was gone.

“Wade!”

“What!” He exclaimed back.

“We’re in trouble. He’s...He’s found us.” You commented quickly taking your heels off. Your gaze falling onto the mysterious man. His eyes locked with yours, before sending you a sly smile. Once you realized his plan it was too late. He had grabbed Ellie, before crashing out of the window.

“Ellie!” You yelled, sprinting across the room. “Yo, Arthur get him!”

Before anyone could respond, you had jumped out of the window following them. Landing in the ocean, you were plummeted deep underwater. Opening your eyes, you couldn’t see the man. Surfacing, you began kicking your legs and feet searching for Ellie. Once your eyes landed on her, you made your way over to her. Shock was written across her expression.

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” You reassured her.

Wrapping her arms around your neck, she clung onto you. Shooting a small bolt upwards, the water created a large wave enveloping you and Ellie, sending you both up to the previous location of the accident. Silence filled the room.

Ellie began to shake in shock and the sudden chilled temperature.

“We’re safe now.” You murmured as she continued hugging you. Rubbing a comforting hand up and down her back, you allowed her to cling to you.

“Why...Why did you do that?” She stuttered. “You...You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I care about you El.” You replied. “I would do anything...Within reason. For you.”

Throwing her arms around your shoulder, she pulled you back in for a tight hug.

“What the fuck was that?” Wade roared. “You didn’t think to let me know before you jump out of a window?”

Pepper had taken Ellie to the infirmary.

Frowning you didn’t respond and took his reprimands. Letting out a sigh, he pulled you in for a hug.

“Next time could ya at least give a guy a heads up, before you pull a stunt like that?”

You nodded into his chest.

“I...I was just worried about you kid.”

“Y/N.” Another voice cut in. “Are you okay?”

Unwrapping himself from you, he allowed you to turn to the voice.

“Yeah. Sorry about that Arthur..I..I was just focused on Ellie.” You frowned facing Aquaman.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He playfully hit your shoulder. “You know the misses would never let me live it down if I allowed something to happen to you.”

Nodding you allowed Arthur to hug you.

Turning towards the group you spoke confidently. “I know what people call me and I know that’s a lot of people after me wanting to give me to the highest bidder. Please don’t let other peoples assumptions of me, shape yours.” You hesitated. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go find Tony and Bruce.”

Wade’s jaw fell open slightly. Making it halfway across the room, Tony and Bruce burst into the room. “Y/N!” They both exclaimed happily, rushing over towards you. Tony was the first to engulfed you in a hug, before Bruce twirled you around lifting you off of the floor. The sound of your giggles filled the air.

“What’d you do to our kid?” Bruce joked towards Wade.

“She jumped out of a window, after Ellie.”

“Damn sparks!” Tony exclaimed.

“Guys we have a problem.”

“Yeah, your outfit is a major problem.” Tony teased. Glancing at Bruce, he wiggled his eyebrows. Bruce rolled his eyes in response.

“James!” Tony yelled. “Do you have some clothes our dear Y/N, can borrow?”

Standing in the bathroom that was directly in his bedroom, you looked at your reflection. Butterflies erupted in your stomach glancing at your outfit. His shirt smelled, like James.

Opening the door, you revealed your outfit to him. He had given you a pair of sweatpants along with one of his flannels. Fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, he cleared his throat before muttering a ‘let’s go.’

“I’m Y/N.”

“Bucky.” His deep voice sounded.

His hand found the small of your back as he gently guided you inside the conference room that the group had migrated to.

Bucky’s hand had caused you to take a sharp intake of breath.

“Sorry.” He muttered quickly removing his hand.

Taking a seat beside Wade and Ellie, you began to fill the team in on the new threat.

“He goes by the name of Galactus.” You hesitated. “He’s much stronger than Thanos ever was.”

Walking out of the tower it was early morning, since the sun wasn’t even up yet. The ride home was filled with silence. A few weeks had gone by since, the celebration party.

The threat of Galactus was worsening by the day. He was close to arriving on earth and when he did, the battle would begin.

There was a rough knock on your door. Opening it, you were met with Tony.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Tony?”

“I came to invite you over for dinner at the tower.”

As you were sitting in the kitchen with the rest of the team, the room was filled with the sound of jokes and laughter.

“So, Y/N. We’ve been thinking. We’re going to help you but under two conditions.” Tony started.

You hummed in response.

“First, you have to move into the tower because as you said, there’s a bounty on your head. Second, you have to let us teach you some defensive movie.”

“Is that it?” You questioned. “Okay.”

A few weeks went by since you had moved into the Avengers tower. Everyone had been acting strange since you got there. Steve, Wanda, Tony and Bruce were the only ones to welcome you with open arms.

Steve had been proud with the amount of progress you had made since agreeing to learn some of the defensive moves.

Bucky was still stand offish towards you. More often than not you had caught him staring at you.

Everyday was one day closer to Galactus landing. Tossing and turning you woke up in a cold sweat. Throwing the blankets off, you made your way to the kitchen. Tugging your shirt tighter around your body, you gazed out to the city lights.

“Hello, Y/N.”

Whipping around you let out a shriek. “How did you find me?”

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katehuntington · 5 years ago

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Title: Ride With Me (part fourteen) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±6450 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part fourteen: Y/N and Dean go on a midnight ride in order to stay with the migrating herd. But when she tries to unravel if Dean is ready for a relationship, she might not like the answer she receives. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: ‘Road To Perdition’ - Thomas Newman (night ride scene), ‘Saturn’ - Sleeping At Last (star gazing scene). Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: It’s about damn time, ain’t it? Thank you @kittenofdoomage, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish and @winchest09 for helping me. You girls are awesome betas and friends.

Ride With Me Masterlist

“Yankee?” His voice is barely a whisper, a little rough around the edges. It’s just enough to bring her back from the deep sleep she’s in, but not enough to take her out of a blissful slumber. The second time her nickname falls from his lips, it wakes her. Groggy she lifts her head from her folded up sweater that functions as a cushion, squinting her eyes in the direction of where Dean’s voice came from. She can barely make out his silhouette. It’s still dark outside, the moon being the only source of light. He has zipped open the tent, peeking inside carefully, not wanting to intrude. It’s clear her sleepiness amuses him, because even in the darkness she can spot his grin. “What time is it?” She rubs her eyes. “2.30,” he informs, keeping it down in order not to disturb Macy, who Y/N is sharing the tent with. “Why did you wake me?” she groans, falling back on the thin mattress. Dean chuckles, deep down feeling guilty for disturbing her sleep. After yesterday, he knows that she needs every minute she can get. “You heard Benny; last one in the water gets the nightshift,” he reminds her. She grunts again, shimmying deeper into her sleeping bag, nowhere near ready to face the morning, or should she say night. Cool air slips passed the head wrangler into the tent, adding to her reluctance to get up. “I let you sleep for as long as I could, but the herd is movin’. We have to tail them,” he responds, sympathetically. “We?”

Y/N pulls the sleeping bag down to her nose, looking over the hem of her warm, comfy cover. Only her eyes are visible, even in the dark they stand out. Dean smiles at the comical sight. “Yeah, we. No one rides out alone, remember? Certainly not at night,” he reminds her. “C’mon. We can’t let the horses wander off. We might lose them again if we wait.” “Give me a second, I’ll be right out,” she promises, the prospect of a ride alone with the cowboy awakening her instantly. “Alright, I’ll tack up Joplin,” Dean offers. “Put on somethin’ warm, it’s cold outside.”

Dean disappears again, zipping the tent down to the ground. In record time Y/N shrugs out of her warm cocoon and wiggles her way into her jeans while laying on the mattress, since she can’t stand straight in the small tent. She puts on several layers of clothing; a long sleeved shirt and her sweater over it. Without waking Macy, she exits the tent, her boots and coat in hand.

The night is brisk and feels like it’s edging towards freezing temperatures, but not just yet. As the cowgirl pulls her boots on her feet, she notices her breath coming out in humid clouds, the air she exhales warm. She makes quick work of rolling up her sleeping bag, getting the hang of tightly and sufficiently packing it in the cylinder carrier that comes with it. After putting on her hat, she joins Dean in the makeshift paddock, where he tightens Joplin’s cinch. He’s wearing his leather stockman coat, the same one he wore on that rainy and dreadful Monday morning when the cattle broke out. “I’ll be right back with the mattress,” she notifies, before turning back to the tent. “Leave it, the others can take it with’em in the morning.” He lowers the stirrup back down, taking the sleeping bag from Y/N when it is handed over. “We have to travel light. It wouldn’t be the first time that I had to ride all night in order to not lose track of the herd.” Y/N listens to him, shaking off the chill that runs up and down her spine, quick to put on the rain coat that Jo borrowed her. After taking Joplin’s reins, Dean moves over to Ted, leading the gelding out of the pen. He makes sure the rope is secured and that the other horses can’t get out, then circles Ted to mount him from his left side. As soon as he has a higher perspective from the horse’s back, he peers to the west. By the time he glances back at Y/N, she has settled in the saddle as well, holding her over-excited mare on the spot. “Ready?” he checks. She nods, glancing up La Barge Canyon as well. “Let’s go.”

The riders of the night cross the creek where it’s shallow enough, trotting up the trail between the hills. The climb is steep for the first couple of hundred yards, but then it levels out. Caged between rock formations, Y/N glances up at the dark blue sky. Faint beams of moonlight break as they fall through the canyon, but she doesn’t have time to linger. Joplin is fresh, reloaded after yesterday’s trail and ready for another round. Eagerly, the dark horse gains on Ted and his rider, and Y/N has to correct her in order to keep a safe distance. “You okay back there?” Dean glances over his shoulder, the sound of frustrated hooves from behind triggering him to grin. “Yep, she’s just a little--” Y/N sits out a buck. “- worked up.” “Take the lead, that might calm her down,” the wrangler suggests, moving his hand that holds the reins to the right, giving her room to pass.

Y/N takes that offer gladly and the second Joplin is at the head of the company of two, she stops cantering and continues to jog up the trail. Her rider pats the feisty horse on the shoulder, rewarding and calming at the same time. The gesture causes a smile to pull at the corner of Dean’s mouth, as he watches the skilled cowgirl finding her way through the rough terrain. It’s such a joy to watch her, to see her work with a horse. She never loses balance when Joplin leaps to the side or prances with excitement, always ready to absorb any sudden or unexpected movements. Her riding is elegant, with small, barely visible aids. She has a seat with so much contact, but without being smothering, without tensing her muscles or using force. A fast learner too, because she owns these mountains, despite the times she’s ridden out here can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Dean can’t stop watching; damn, she can ride.

Fifteen minutes later, they reach Black Top Mesa, a large plateau between Battleship Mountain in the east and the Superstition Mountain in the southwest. When the surface evens out, Dean clicks his tongue, rallying Ted on to transition to a canter. Joplin picks up the sound of the head wrangler too, turning her ears back at Dean before gaining speed, not bothering to wait for Y/N’s signal. Afterall, she has known Dean to be her leader much longer than the intern. Y/N isn’t intimidated by the bubbly horse, however. Instead she shakes her head smiling, controlling the pace with her seat and reins to remind Joplin she still has a rider on her back and that she would like to have a say. There is a proverb well known amongst equestrians; tell a gelding, ask a stallion, discuss with a mare.

The two horses canter across the terrain, long shadows behind them, the grassland draped in silver for as far as they can see. Dust clouds in their wake, the rustling of dry vegetation beneath them. A steady one-two-three beat of hooves, every stride the same soothing rhythm. Goosebumps run down Y/N’s arms, but it’s not because of the low temperature here at higher altitudes. It’s because she’s living in the moment. It’s because she’s aware of everything around her, her senses picking up and her mind memorizing the scents, sensations, sounds and sights. She had it a couple of times before, the last time being in the ring with Meadow, during their winning round at the championships. She was alive then and she’s alive now. The wind in her hair, a horse underneath her saddle. Dean is right, this is exactly where she’s supposed to be. Not behind a desk, studying, going over business plans and theses, plotting out a successful future. The thing is, you can’t plan feeling this free. You can’t find fulfillment in a book. You can’t buy happiness.

Y/N glances over her shoulder, finding Dean right by her side. The hard lines by the corner of his eyes are soft now, just as the evident frown that worry draws, whenever he ponders about the ranch and the people working there. The handsome man seems peaceful, contentment in his eyes. When he catches her glance, he smiles warmly and she knows that he’s experiencing this moment exactly the same. Maybe it’s because they both have reached this point in life simultaneously, that the entwinement is possible.

The land flows, like waves on the ocean. A break in the mountainous landscape, a calm before the storm. Saguaro cacti stand tall, their silhouettes like towering stick figures, guarding the Black Mesa trail. The two riders lower the pace, because several hundred yards away, the herd grazes in serenity. Some of the young horses lay down, while others stand on one hind leg, resting the other on their toe, head low and relaxed. One stallion stands on the side of the group, keeping an eye out.

Dean stops Ted, taking in the sight. He can’t make out who’s who from this distance, certainly not in the dark, but he knows every single one of the horses. Some of them he witnessed being born, others came in at four, maybe five months old. He’s curious how they turned out now that they have grown, if their character, their ways and expressions remained unchanged. Not one horse is the same, neither is their way of developing. One thing he does know; they always surprise him when they come back from the fields. The little ones sometimes end up having the biggest heart, while the large ones turn out to be scared of everything and need the gentlest touch and encouragement. Training the greenhorns, the horses who have little experience in life, is more than a challenge. It’s a journey.

He glances aside at a hill, which overlooks the lower end of the plateau. “We should settle down for a bit now that we can. They aren’t going anywhere for at least a couple of hours,” the cowboy suggests, hinting at the look out he spotted. Y/N nods and moves her reins right of Joplin’s neck, steering the mare away from the path. Dean follows and eventually they stop by a stray Yucca tree, both silently deciding that this is a good spot to take a break. The head wrangler lowers himself from his horse, the long flaps of his coat swaying around him when he has both feet on solid ground again. The spurs on his boots jingle in the silence of the windless night. He takes his flask from the saddlebag, handing it to the young woman in his company, who takes the bottle without contradicting him. After drinking a quarter of it, she passes it back, leaving more than enough for Dean.

He ties the horses to a fallen tree trunk on top of the hill and brings back the sleeping bag that he tied behind Joplin’s saddle earlier. On a horse, moving and working, it’s easy to stay warm. But the early autumn nights up here can be treacherously cold. It doesn’t seem to bother the girl from the North too much, though, who is watching the mystical portrait in front of her, enjoying the tranquil world. Nevertheless he unfolds the sleeping bag and, after approaching her from behind, wraps it around her body. Allowing his hands to linger on her waist, he presses a soft kiss on the junction between her shoulder and her neck, smiling against her skin when she melts into him.

Dean rests his chin on her shoulder then, his western hat tilting to the side when the brim buds against hers. She laughs and takes off her black Stetson, turning in his arms, wearing the warm padded blanket like a cape. Amused, Y/N reaches for his hat, but before she can straighten it, the cowboy slips his fingers over the crown of the custom made Resistol. The playfulness in his eyes dies down slightly, making space for a message even more meaningful and sincere. The two wranglers stand opposite of each other in the middle of the wilderness, under a billion galaxies, when Dean takes off his hat. As a token of his ever growing fondness of the woman before him, he goes to place the Resistol on her head, gently, without breaking away from her gaze. She allows it, her eyes never leaving his. It’s a little too big for her, but it doesn’t matter. Y/N knows that he’s not trying to be funny. No, this gesture says more than a writer could describe in words or than an artist could paint in an image. This is him, claiming her as his.

Rendered speechless, the cowgirl stares back at him, eyes full of wonder telling Dean that she understands. He has never been a man of many words, especially when it comes to expressing emotion, but that’s okay, because he can let his actions speak for him. He wants her to know how he feels about her, he wants to show how much he cares. The cowboy leans in, dipping his head below the brim, closes his eyes and kisses her. Her body stills and he can feel her lashes brush his dry cheek. It’s a sweet moment, just long enough for him to feel her warm breath on his lips. Dean doesn’t intend to deepen the kiss. It’s a confirmation, adding strength to his message. Dean’s mouth pulls into a smile before he leaves her. He knows there will be obstacles to face, he knows tomorrow they’ll ride home. The cowboy doesn’t want to think about that, though. The only thing on his mind is that right here, right now, she’s with him.

His fingers slip down the sleeves of her coat, his thumbs caressing her knuckles once his hands hold hers. They’re cold; no wonder, because the temperatures are low at this time of night. “Wish I could build a fire for us, but I’m afraid it would scare away the horses,” he admits. Her smile spreads into a grin, mischievously. “I can think of other ways for you to keep me warm,” she flirts. Dean cocks his eyebrow at her, taken aback by her boldness; looks like someone is gaining confidence. He chuckles then, flustered. He can’t wait to explore that side of her that rises to the surface every now and then, but not tonight. He might have gotten lost in the moment when they were alone by the creek yesterday, yet he wasn’t lying when he told Benny he wants to take things easy with her. What is growing between them, is not something he wants to rush and ruin.

He leads her to the base of the Yucca tree, where he settles down by its roots. She follows suit, adjusts the fold out sleeping bag over their bodies while he leans back against the bark of the desert tree. He puts a sheltering arm around her, pulling her in. Clutching the hem of the warm blanket between her fingers, she moves her hand up towards his chin, making sure he’s covered and warm himself. A deep sigh flows from her lungs and she snuggles into his side. On the first evening of the trail, she got nervous just thinking about sitting next to the head wrangler, afraid to invade his personal space. That same personal space has become her safe haven in a little over twenty-four hours. She rests her head against his firm chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. For a long while they don’t say anything, simply enjoying each other’s company. The peaceful silence of nature is soothing, even though there is so much life during the desert’s darkest hours. Dean rubs his thumb over her shoulder absently, a thousand yard stare focused on the herd. He then tilts his head back, glancing at the sky. “Wanna see somethin’ awesome?” Y/N lifts her chin, curious about his proposal. He shifts to meet her gaze, a playful smile on his lips. “Close your eyes.” “Why?” she wonders. “Trust me,” the wrangler insists, shutting his as an example.

Y/N shrugs and does as told. For a long moment she banishes any light from entering her pupils. They dilate behind her eyelids, almost to the size of her irises. She lays her head in the comfortable crook between Dean’s chest and his shoulder. “For how long?” He smirks at her impatience. “A little while.” “How do I know when to open my eyes?” “I’ll tell you.” “When?” Dean laughs now, the delightful rumble reaching her hearing. “You need to learn to let go, remember?” Y/N sighs, giving in to what she cannot control. She relaxes against him, only moved slightly when the cowboy’s chest expands and deflates with every breath he takes. It could be seconds, maybe even minutes, but right before she doses off, Dean softly squeezes her arm. “You can open them now.”

She does, and what she beholds, takes her breath away. Her eyes got used to the darkness, allowing her to pick up even the tiniest glint of light. Above her, past the crooked branches and pointy leaves of the Joshua tree, countless stars decorate the night’s sky. Clear, sparking orbs, some bright, some faint, but more than she has ever witnessed before. A bundle of galaxies form a ribbon of silver that curves across the dark blue canvas, constellations radiating their figures down on the small and humble beings that they are. The longer she watches, the more solar systems she discovers. Some still exist, others are long gone, but their brilliance is still on their way to earth, which allows her to behold their beauty as long as the light travels. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers. Dean agrees, admiring the spectacle as well. He’ll never get tired of it, staring at outer space for hours on end. It’s something he has done ever since… He swallows thickly. Ever since Mom passed away.

She always looked up at the sky and told him that angels were watching over him. It was his uncle, though, who taught him about the stars. About cowboys of the Wild West, who used them to navigate across uncharted land. Dean must have been five years old at the time, maybe six. It wasn’t long after the house fire that took his mom’s life. He spent some time at the ranch with Dad and Sam. Bobby and Ellen took the broken family in without hesitation, until Dean’s father slipped down hill further to a point of no return, the loss of his wife consuming him completely.

Before John dragged him and Sammy away from the only place besides their childhood home where they ever felt safe, Bobby shared something that he never forgot. He told him, ‘When the angels took your mom to heaven, she got a star. Not just some star, but the brightest one of all.’ His uncle would sit in his rocking chair on the porch, while Dean laid on his back in the grass, staring up at the infinite darkness. He pointed out a solar system that night, and told his nephew that’s where his mom lived on. And that whenever he would miss her, all he had to do was look up, and she would be right there.

The make believe offered him comfort for many years, and now that he thinks of it, it still does. He passed the fairytale onto his little brother when he was old enough and star gazing became a thing that they did together. It was the constant in their lives, because it didn’t matter if they lived in a motel, a trailer park, a shelter, or a barn, that significant star was always shining bright when it got dark. Sammy must have been seven when he found a book about Astrology. With the literature in his lap he would look up at night, way past bedtime, and try to identify Mom’s star. Eventually he learned its name: Vega. Sapphire blue, visible in the north east in April, high overhead in August on their mother’s birthday, and in the northwestern quadrant of the sky on December evenings. Despite the moon being almost full, she should be visible tonight.

Dean lets his eyes roam over the countless galaxies. He finds Cygnus embedded in the Milky Way, Hercules east of the silver wave across the darkness. Right between those two landmarks, hides a small constellation known as Lyra. One of its stars shines brighter than all the others, a white blue dot of light blinking at him. He smiles, sadly. There you are, Mom.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Dean is pulled away from the bittersweet memories by Y/N’s kind voice. She steals a glance, reading into his quietness, his mimic that shows a trace of hurt, his slightly faster heart rate, but noticeable nonetheless. He meets her gaze, but then averts his green eyes back to the sky. She nudges him carefully. “You okay?” “Yeah… I’m alright.” In stillness they lay together, Dean contemplating if he has said too little, Y/N if she has said too much. All of a sudden the silence isn’t reassuring anymore. Words are left unsaid, emotions pushed down and insecurities force themselves to the foreground. The longer the pause drags on, the heavier it gets.

Y/N runs her thumb along the hem of the sleeping bag, her clenched fist still resting on his chest. The voices in her head grow louder, because she knows he is holding something back. He’s not the kind of guy to express his feelings, the kind who is comfortable with talking about the past. She learned that quickly after the fight he had with Ash on that dreadful Monday, a couple of weeks back. Only when she stormed off angrily after Dean blew up on her, he allowed her to see only a glimpse of what haunts his mind. They had many conversations after that day, most of them light and funny, others more layered. But when they touched subjects like background, family or childhood, it was always about her. Whenever the question turned on him, the cowboy would dance around it, either with a joke, or a dodge so smooth, Y/N barely noticed. Add all those moments together, though, and it becomes a pile too big to sweep under the carpet.

What is it, that makes her so difficult to talk to? Is it that he doesn’t trust her? Is it because he’s afraid she will judge him? Or maybe because he doesn’t want her to become anything more than just a girl he can hook up with, making any form of deep conversation completely unnecessary. Y/N closes her eyes as her mind begins to spiral, the magic gone, the sky full of stars forgotten. “Yankee?” The thoughts that belittle her stop for a second. As the doubt grew, she subconsciously hugged him a little tighter in the process, desperate for comfort. That must have gotten his attention. “I can hear the gears in your head turning.” She looks up at him now, carefully. Trying to read the suddenly timid woman in his arms, Dean continues to rub his thumb up and down her arm, hoping to offer her some consolation for whatever she’s afraid of. Something is bothering her, and he’s aware that it most frankly has something to do with him. “What is it?” he wonders, when she lifts her head from his chest and sits up.

Nerves tangle her stomach in knots while she keeps her eyes fixed on the hat he gave her and now lays by her side. The hat he offered as a symbol of his heart, or did she imagine the underlying message? She doesn’t want to ask him, afraid of the truth, yet she cannot deal with the uncertainty either. Knowing is better than not knowing, at least that’s what she tries to tell herself as she turns to face the man that has her so confused. “Tomorrow, when we ride back to the ranch, what’s going to happen?” Dean tilts his head slightly, his brows drawing together as he takes her in. “What’d ya mean?” “I mean, what are we gonna do about this...” She gestures between him and herself, her movements frantic. “Whatever this is.”

The cowboy breaks eye contact and perches his lips slightly, his teeth pulling at the inside of his cheek. Uh-oh. This is the conversation he hoped to avoid. She wants to label it, needing that insurance, that security. The thing is, he’s not sure he can give her that. She doesn’t have the slightest clue who he really is and apparently he can’t bring himself to tell her either. Christ, he can’t even talk to her about his Mom, let alone all the rest. How can you commit to someone if you are unable to tell the truth? “Y/N, listen…” It already hurts. He has barely said anything, but already the way he spoke her name tugs at her heartstrings. For a second she waits for him to continue, but when he becomes quiet once again as he tries to come up with the right thing to say, she can’t stay patient any longer. “Y - you have to admit that we won’t go home the same,” she stammers. “Not after what happened between us.”

The warm sleeping bag has shifted, one half pooling in her lap, the other half still covering his body. As he watches her pick at a loose seam, a small smile forms at the corner of his mouth. Home. She called the ranch home. Not Freeport, the town on the other side of the country where she was born and raised, but Gold Canyon, right around the corner. Somehow, her giving the ranch that simple four letter title without a second thought, boosts his confidence. He reaches for her hand, stopping her from tearing the tread any further. “You’re right. It won’t be the same,” he says, calming, then scoffs, unable to believe what he’s about to admit. “I don’t want it to be.” A perplexed stare flicks up from their hands to meet his eyes. When she sees the softness in them, the warmth, her worries somewhat ease and she dares to speak again. “What do you mean?”

Dean shakes his head lightly, his teeth catching his bottom lip. He directs his attention to her hand again, tracing her soft skin, trying to find ease in the rhythmic motion, as much as he tries to assure the woman who he’s in love with. But he can’t say that out loud, can he? He doesn’t know how, not really. He grew up too fast, faced with responsibilities that weren’t for a child to carry. There wasn’t room for him to express how he felt, and when that river overflowed every now and then, he was ordered to man up. Bobby and Ellen did their best to teach him, by giving him a safe home, stability, time to heal, and love to fill the gaping hole in his heart. He solemnly believes that without them, he might have never made it out. But everyone knows how the saying goes; old habits die hard. When you’ve lost so much, letting people in becomes terrifying. He wants to be brave, though. Letting her go is not an option.

“I’m not sure,” he starts off. “I just know that, right now, this - this thing between us... it feels good.” His eyes are a different shade of green under the moon. When the sun is relentlessly shining down on him, they are fiery emerald gems, while by firelight the colors of his irises remind her of the forest, of moss growing on fallen trees. But when it’s night and everything in the shadows is draped in a hue of light blue, she sees the ocean in them, sea green waves rolling ashore. Y/N can’t look away, and thankfully, he doesn’t either. This thing between us… it feels good, he said. “So, are we…?” She leaves the blank open, not brave enough to call this a relationship just yet. Dean sits up a bit and shifts until he’s comfortable, the sleeping bag falling from his upper body. He doesn’t want to let go of her hand and keeps the physical connection intact, especially since he can't answer her with a straight up ‘yes’. God, he wishes he could. “I want it to be,” he admits. “But I don’t wanna jump the gun here either.”

Dean can tell that he’s lost her the second he added ‘but’ to his sentence, the disappointment surfacing instantly. She breaks away, her pretty smile fading together with her optimism. “Y/N, hey…” The cowboy squeezes her hand and when that doesn’t help, he reaches for her chin, curling his index finger underneath and lifting it gently. “That has nothing to do with you, hear me? Thing is… I’ve never really gone steady before. I - I didn’t want--” “- the attachment?” She cuts him off, disheartened.

Dean’s eyes bounce over her features before his touch leaves her face. Needing that connection to ground him, he lets his fingers trace hers again. She feels cold, much like the tone in her voice just now. Thankfully she doesn’t pull away. Contemplating on what he could say that won’t make it worse, he takes another breath.

“It wasn’t just that,” he confesses, “I... I guess I never met someone who I wanted to, y’know, ride into the sunset with.” Y/N chuckles at the corny metaphor and Dean smiles softly, glad that the comment got half a laugh at least. He’s not sweet talking her, though. “You mean a lot to me. You know that, right?”

Their eyes meet again, his full of wonder, hers astonished. The genuine words hover between the two wranglers, adding to the silence of the night as they hold each other’s gaze. Y/N wasn’t expecting that reveal, not with where the conversation was going. Did she know he cares about her? She hoped he did, yet she was careful to assume. Of course he looked after her while they were at work, he’s her supervisor afterall. But that’s not what he’s aiming for here, is it? He also sought her out whenever he could after the long hours, clearly enjoying her company. Then they went on this trail and they finally gave in to the longing. That kiss… his hands on her body; it changed everything. The way he claims to care for her now, is on a different level. Him giving his hat is one thing, him flat out admitting it, is another. And so his words are met with a smile, first small, but steadily spreading wider, until it reaches her eyes. He returns it, his mind put to ease. Slowly but surely, getting the message across becomes a little less intimidating.

“That’s the exact reason why I don’t want to dive in head first. It’s not that I can’t make up my damn mind. I--” He sighs, collecting himself before he allows the vulnerability to seep through the cracks. “I just don’t wanna screw this up.” Y/N watches him, her heart hurting for the handsome cowboy. She wonders why he would think so low of himself. Why he would think that he would ruin the very thing that’s blossoming because of his ways with her. Now she reaches out, her fingers gently enclosing around his forearm. “Dean… You won’t,” she tries to comfort him. But he scoffs cynically, averting his gaze to the mountains in the southwest. “Yeah, well… Wouldn’t be the first time,” he returns, his gravelly voice a little darker than she remembers it.

The silence that follows carries on longer than either of them want it to last. Y/N watches him, pulling the warm sleeping bag closer around her, the ground underneath her radiating coolness into her muscles. It saddens her to see the guy, who she knows to be all for laughs and fun, so despondent. His shoulders are slouched and his eyes are fixed, but aren’t registering anything. It’s a blank stare, but the woman opposite of him has a hunch what he’s thinking about. She gives him space to find his words, but when he doesn’t, she decides to help him take a step in the right direction. “Is this about your family? The one before the ranch?” she asks, cautiously. Dean doesn’t answer, but looks down, his jaw flexing. The cowgirl opposite of him knows enough. “Look, I don’t know what happened back then, and if you don’t want to talk about that, it’s okay. But Dean, I’m not going to up and leave.” “Yes, you are,” he returns, his pained eyes stunning her when he looks up.

She’s quiet now and then the pieces fall into place; he’s scared. He’s terrified that he will lose yet another person who is dear to him. He’s not wrong, she is planning to go back in five months. This internship is temporary, that’s a given. Or is it? “I might move back, yes,” she confirms, unintentionally underlining the word ‘might’. “That doesn’t mean I’m just gonna drop you like a hot brick. You mean a lot to me, too.” She exchanges a glance, the endearment in her expression soothing him. “Besides, I can’t predict what’s coming. Who knows where we are in five months time.” Dean chuckles. “Says the one person who has her entire future plotted out.” “Until a certain cowboy messed with the coordinates.” Y/N raises her eyebrows at him, playfully. “Besides, you keep telling me that I need to let it be. It’s not bad advice, you know?”

The head wrangler thinks about that for a minute, glancing at the herd further down below. She has a solid point; he’s been reminding her to loosen up and give in to what she can’t control ever since she arrived here. Then why is he going against the very philosophy he preaches? “What if we do exactly that? What if we just… take it slow and see where this goes?” he suggests. “Test the ice, you mean?” Y/N verifies, receiving a puzzled look from the wrangler. “That’s what my granddad used to say, instead of ‘test the waters’. Ice is more applicable where I’m from anyway.”

Dean watches her, a small, bittersweet smile forming on her lips as she remembers her grandfather’s words. Looks like they both lost someone who had, and continues to have, a big impact on their lives. He rubs the pads of his fingers over her knuckles sweetly, pulling her back to the present. “Would that be alright with you?” he asks, carefully. She ponders, deep down not entirely sure if she wants to settle for that. He needs time, she understands that, but if there is anything that she finds difficult to accept, it’s uncertainty. Without his full commitment, faith is all she can hold on to. Faith that this is what’s best for them. Faith that one day, he will believe in himself, too. Y/N breathes out, letting the anxiety leave her chest. “I can work with that,” she agrees, content.

Relieved, Dean matches her expression. Fully aware of the huge step she is taking, he counts his blessings. He won’t lose her, not today. Thankful, he reaches for her. “C’mere,” he says softly. Willingly she leans into him, his bandaged hand cupping her cheek. The kiss that follows is sweet and gentle, assuring her that he will make it worth the wait. Dean leans back between the roots of the Joshua tree again, pulling the sleeping bag over her shoulders to fully cover them again. Her delicate hands slip under his leather stockman coat, warming them using his body heat. He sweeps the hair from her face first, then folds his strong arms around her. When their lips part, he stares straight into her soul, the stars above him twinkling in his bright eyes. For a while she lingers in that moment, but then tucks her head under his chin, her cheek against his collarbone. She closes her eyes when he kisses her hair, treasuring the feel of this very second. It’s not long before her respiration eases to a slow and calm pace, fatigue gaining ground.

“Why don’t you get some more sleep?” Dean proposes, noticing how tired she is. “Benny and the rest won’t catch up until morning.” “Wouldn’t be fair,” she mumbles. “You slept less than I did, and I have the night’s watch.” “I’m okay,” he assures. “I’d rather have you sharp and rested tomorrow. We’re gonna be in the saddle for at least twelve hours.” “Sure?” He nods, his scruff tickling her forehead when he does. “Yeah. I’ll keep an eye out.” Y/N yawns, unable to fight the sleepiness if she wanted to. Slightly cold, yet comfortable, she snuggles closer. It doesn’t take long before she drifts off in the comfort of his embrace.

The cowboy rests his head back against the bark, careful not to fall asleep himself. He watches the midnight blue, infinity peppered with countless lights. One specific star captures his attention and he smiles. He’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to accept the mistakes he made in the past and leave them behind. His start in life wasn’t exactly smooth and he hasn't accomplished much either. But damn, he sure as hell lucked out with Y/N. It amazes him how understanding she is, how she’s willing to accept him, despite his many flaws. She has only seen the tip of the iceberg, but still, she’s here in his arms. He has to make this work. Ignore the obvious, ignore that she’ll go back to Maine next spring. Because deep down, he wants her to stay.

For a moment he wonders, if Mom is smiling down on him. If she’s proud. Because after the literal hell he wandered through, of all of life’s achievements, he found himself an amazing woman, who is kind, who is patient, who wants to be with him. If this isn’t fulfillment, he doesn’t know what is.

You girls still alive?

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part fifteen here

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jimlingss · 5 years ago

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For a request, how about Tae and the reader where hs sweethearts and really loved each other, but then the reader had to move far away for some reason and they lost contact. Then years later when they’re both adults they meet again because they end up working at the same place. Maybe Tae wants to try things again because he really felt they were real but the reader is unsure and thinks they were too young before. You can decide the ending. It’s a story idea I’ve had for a while now 😅 Thanks! 💜

↳ Sixteen Over Thirty

1.5k words || 100% Fluff || Kim Taehyung

Everyone has a period of time in their life that they want to hide. For you and many others, that time is high school. When you were awkward and gawky, limbs suddenly longer than they’ve ever been before, acne cursing you as you tried to fit in the cesspool of superficial teenagers. You still cringe remembering just how unbearable you were. On your worst days, you’re reminded that you used to write lyrics of romance songs on the margins of your notes and that you wanted to someday get a tattoo of them. You wrote romantic poems, daydreamed scenes from chick flicks and thought it was your own life. Worse of all — you thought you found your soulmate. You used to scribble ‘Kim Y/N’ all over your journal, and you’re sure your teenage self would’ve gotten married had it been legal at sixteen. You would’ve said yes the second he popped the question. It’s a horrifying thought. “Why’s it horrifying?” A mirage of your teenage self confronts you with her arms crossed. She has that glare on — the one she thinks is scary, but comes off more as bratty. “You’re too young to get married.” “But I love him!” “You don’t love him,” you spit at her in distaste. “God, you don’t even know how to do taxes, don’t talk about love with me, you child.” “Ugh, you’re just like mom and dad!” She dramatically rolls her eyes. “What happened to you?!” “Life,” you tell her in disgust. Why she was wearing neon pink eyeshadow was beyond you. “I wish you’d become me sooner.” “You can’t tell me what to do!” She shouts at the top of her lungs. “I hate you!” The hallucination stomps off and slams the door shut, leaving you with a sigh. Everyone has a dark past of embarrassment and shame that makes you kick your blanket at night. But sometimes, it returns to truly haunt you, materializing right in front of you with no escape. And this time, it’s not a mirage of your past self formed from your active imagination. It’s someone real and tangible. “Y/N!” Your colleague waves you over in the lobby with a smile. “You got a lot of energy for a Monday morning.” “‘Course, I’m just showing the new recruit around. Kim Taehyung, this is L/N Y/N. She’s the senior director of the marketing department.” Your ears are ringing. It couldn’t be…. But the minute he steps aside, you come face to face with a tall individual with blonde hair. He has a bright smile, holding a curious stare, his brown eyes peering into yours. “Y/N…?” “T-Taehyung?” “Do you two know each other?” Your colleague looks between the both of you and your expressions of wonderment. “Yeah. We...went to high school together.” “Oh, really? Wow. What a small word!” It’s a small world indeed. It’s way too small. You should move to another fucking planet — NASA should make it to Mars faster so you can migrate. But alas, there’s no escape. Not today, not in the next few months. Taehyung works right in your department by your side. The pair of you see each other day in and day out, and he never hesitates to make small talk with you, catching up on the years you've missed of each other's life. Just like before, he places himself too close to you. Kim Taehyung is talented in how he worms his way into people’s lives and bring their guard down. And one night, you find yourself realizing this at a bar during happy hour with all your colleagues. You’ve taken your place alone at the counter on a stool, and he slides right up next to you. “Drink’s here are good.” “Yeah, I know.” You keep your speech polite, distant. “Not bad for the price.” He hits you with a memory. “We used to pass here all the time, remember? Always wanted to go in together when we were old enough.” Stiff laughter leaves your mouth and you click your drink with his beer bottle. “Guess we made it.” The man hums, his elbow propped on the counter. He rests his cheek in his hand and stares at you, a little too intensely, but you don’t comment. He shouldn’t look this good in a simple white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and fitted trousers. Damn him. “We had a lot of things we wanted to do when we became of age. Didn’t you want to get matching tattoos?” He snaps his fingers, eyes lighting up. “You even had drawings of them!” “Oh god.” You groan. “Don’t talk about it.” Taehyung gives a cheesy smile. “Why not?” “It’s embarrassing.” “I don’t think so,” he muses. “It’s cute.” “We were young.” “Still are,” he says and takes a long sip of his drink. The oncoming intoxication makes it easier to speak sober thoughts, and he must find it simpler too because he asks— “I heard you’re not seeing anyone. What’s up with that?” The bomb is dropped. You’re caught off guard. “What do you mean?” Taehyung shrugs. “I just thought you’d be married by now. You always talked about wanting to be married and having kids before turning twenty five.” “Well, I was a dumb teenager, Taehyung.” It’s nostalgic to sit next to him like this, to talk this quietly as if it’s just the both of you in this busy place, and you’re not sure if you welcome the feeling. “We all were.” “Do you ever think about how we could’ve been?” he asks, looking at you carefully. “I mean, if you never had to move away for college.” “I don’t know.” There’s a long silence as your mind travels. Maybe you would’ve gotten married to him by now, have kids, working mediocre jobs and coming home to the family. A white-picket fenced life. Then again, people don’t often end up with their high school sweethearts, not when their innocence sooner or later becomes ruined, when their immaturity sheds, when they realize the horizon’s so big…. Yet somehow, your teenage self would like to disagree with your cynical view. “Why’d you never call me when you came back?” “I didn’t know you were still here and I didn’t want to bother you. I thought you’d be married by now.” “Same here. Guess I just never found the person I wanted to marry.” Taehyung gaze is deep and imploring. “At least there was no one like you.” You laugh, lolling your head to one side. “Are you trying to flirt with me, Kim Taehyung?” “Is it working?” he chuckles, sipping on his drink as you roll your eyes playfully. “It’s inappropriate.” “Well we’re not at work,” he counters. “Everything’s fair game, right?” A noise comes from your mouth that he relishes in, a half-scoff and half-laugh. “Some things don’t change, do they, Taehyung?” “Some don’t.” The corners of his mouth draw upwards. “So you should let me take you on a date.” You blink hard, not sure if you misheard or not. “Pardon?” “I think….I might still be in love with you,” he admits over another tentative sip of his drink. Your face feels hot. Your stomach flutters as if you were still a teenager and not a grown woman. And your heart stutters against its will. Your composed exterior is vulnerable but you laugh it off. “Don’t be ridiculous, Taehyung. We were like five.” “We were sixteen,” he corrects. “Yeah, well, I’m thirty now and that feels like eons ago. I have to go get my cane.” He laughs noisily and it’s nice to see him be so unabashedly himself. “That’s not old. You’re not a grandma and even then there’s nothing wrong with that — I’d still want to take you out to dinner and a movie.” Your flustered, swallowing hard. “Sure. Good luck with that.” “Why, you don’t believe me?” Taehyung leans in closer, his breath skimming on your cheek and making you feel a kind of nervousness you haven’t felt since you were an adolescent. “Is it so crazy for you to believe that I like you?” “I think you’re hanging onto a fantasy.” “And what fantasy is that?” he asks. “I..I don’t know. The whole fantasy that we’d work out. That everything will be perfect. The whole seeing the world through rose-coloured lenses.” “I don’t think so.” Taehyung pouts and thinks about it. “I don’t think everything will be perfect. I don’t know if things will work out — we’ll have to see. And I’m pretty sure I see you how you actually are.” The distance has closed. He’s still smiling in that way that pisses you off, but makes your palms sweaty. God, he always knew how to soften you right up. You feel like melted butter. There’s a moment of quiet and you finish your drink, slamming it down on the counter. “Where would we have dinner?” The man has a shit-eating grin, one of delight, excitement and victory. “At that breakfast diner we used to go to.” “Walking down memory lane, aren’t we, Kim Taehyung?” You grab your purse quickly and muster a nonchalant shrug as you hop off the stool. “Fine, I like their pancakes anyways.” Kim Taehyung laughs, following closely behind. You embrace your teenage self instead of shaming her, and she stays right by your side, singing love songs already.

#Requests 2019 #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung drabble #bts drabble #taehyung fluff #taepurpletae #Jimlings #the fifth of my twelve requests #ok not gonna lie this is pretty cute #let's get some Taehyung love in this house

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charmedtheselfproclaimedking · 4 years ago

Text

Charmed Children

Warnings: I do not own or claim to own any rights to the television show “Charmed” or the characters created within said show, this is purely fanfiction written from a devoted fan of the series. 15+ Mild to strong language, moderate to strong violence, witchcraft, sexual innuendos, and scenes of a sexual nature. F/F, F/M, M/M, Gen, Other +

CHAPTER ONE HERE

Chapter 3 - Legacy

PJ Thorne and her newly found, long lost, half sister Peyton Price were in the main foyer of the Halliwell Manor, each of them sorting through a separate pile of unopened mail address to the likes of Phoebe Halliwell, Piper Halliwell, Leo Wyatt, Wyatt Halliwell, Chris Halliwell, Melinda Halliwell, Paige Mitchell, etc.…both of them snooping in a bid to learn more about their birth mother when suddenly the grand Victorian chandelier placed right above them both, which hang from the ceiling, began to shake viciously before omitting a strange blue light that almost blinded the two women but as soon as they had noticed it, it was gone just like that. “I am going to put that one down to some old school dodgy electrics which makes complete sense given the age of this house.” Peyton guessed, trying not to let on that she was slightly spooked. “I have never seen any kind of messed up wiring cause a chandelier to omit that kind of strange light…then again it is not like I see fancy chandelier’s every day in my line of work.” PJ replied to her sister, as the two began looking towards the stairs, wondering why Percy had been upstairs for so long. “I should check on Mr Ford in case he’s found himself electrocuted or something…” “I’ll check on Percy with you,” Peyton said happily, as the two sisters made their way for the stairs. “Nothing like a creepy old house to make strangers who happen to be siblings get to the bonding.” “Look you seem nice enough and everything, but I am not looking for a sister.” PJ told Peyton, making it clear where she stood with her, as the two of them began walking up the stairs of the Halliwell Manor. “I’m down to get answers about the woman who gave us up, but I am not looking for long lost family…” “Oh, okay!” Peyton responded, attempting to hide her disappointment. “Well lucky for you I already have a family whom I love so yep, just wanting answers too and pending on how haunted this place is I may potentially want to live here…” “This place is too big for one person I say we sell it and share the money three ways, that way you can get yourself a nice little flat, Percy can have walking around money and I can put some money aside for a rainy day.” PJ advised Peyton, as they continued walking upstairs until they walked into the upstairs hallway. “I mean some money is the least we can get out of all this!” “Well actually, I am not big on the idea of selling our family home especially since it has been in our family for generations.” Peyton disagreed with Peyton, as Percy walked down the attic stairs to meet them in the hallway. “I think we should keep it in the family.” “You are talking about strangers who threw us out of this very house who gives a damn about their traditions!” PJ argued with her half-sister, making her fury towards her birth mother abundantly clear. “Oh, calm down detective dastardly if you need the cash so badly, I’ll buy your share of this place.” Percy interrupted, attempting to stop a potential argument, before turning to Peyton. “Then I will give you both of our shares and you can live your perfect family home lifestyle…that is if you still want to live here considering it could be haunted by the ghosts of real life witches!” “Witches? Really? Did you get electrocuted by any chance?” PJ responded to Percy. “We should get you checked out at the hospital maybe a psychiatric one…” “Trust me I am no believer in hocus pocus although I did love the movie,” Percy began to explain to both PJ and Peyton. “However, it seems like our birth mother sure believed in witchcraft considering the grimoire in the attic full of spells and potions.” “Wait, so our mother was a witch?” Peyton asked her half-brother, with a sense of excitement in her voice. “That is so cool!” “Well I guess that explains you and your whole attitude,” PJ told Peyton. “Clearly our mother was somewhat unhinged…in which case she did the right thing by giving us up.” “Or maybe our mum was a witch.” Peyton continued to argue with PJ. “You cannot tell me you do not want to see this spell book?” “It is a pretty cool book to be fair…way more convincing than the kind you buy online that is for sure!” Percy chimed in, tempting to entice PJ’s curiosity at the same time. “And the spells are so well written like poetry for wiccans.” “Are you listening to yourself? You are one of this city’s most eligible bachelors and you are up in a stranger’s attic reading spells!” PJ snapped at Percy, before taking a deep sigh, trying to calm herself. “This day just keeps getting crazier!” “When you read said spell…did you read it with your head’s voice or did you read it out aloud because everyone knows when you read a spell out loud you’re casting said spell whereas when you read it in your mind it is just reading.” Peyton wondered, revealing some knowledge of witchcraft. “No, I do not think everybody knows that Peyton!” PJ told her sister. “I bet you read up all about UFO’s, ghost sightings and truly believe there are actual witches out there.” “Stevie Nicks is a witch!” Percy argued with the cynical detective. “She said so on American Horror Story…” “I love American Horror Story, what is your favorite season?” Peyton asked her brother. “Okay I am getting out of this madhouse right now!” PJ declared, as she began walking back towards the stairs. “Sell it, do not sell it, burn it to the ground for all I care!” Despite PJ’s urge to not admit it, these three newly found siblings’ lives had changed forever that day because not only were they no longer strangers but as they were yet to discover they were fully active witches now, with powers just waiting to be discovered.

A few hours had passed since PJ’s abrupt exit from the Halliwell Manor and yet for some reason neither Peyton or Percy could bring themselves to leave their biological family’s home, as Peyton had migrated upstairs to the attic, eager to examine the book of shadows and all its contents, Percy decided to give the home a second look over, as he stripped the kitchen cupboards to find all kinds of ingredients which he believed was used to make potions, although most of it was just store bought food he did not recognize. Percy’s strip search of the family kitchen was cut short when he heard the doorbell ringing and decided to walk out of the kitchen, through the dining room and towards the front door eager to find out who would be knocking, as he wondered if they could be a friend or neighbor of the mother who gave him up for adoption. “Holy moly this neighborhood just got a whole lot better.” Percy mumbled in shock after opening the front door to find Luke Star stood on the front porch, a tall dark haired man with a Californian tan and a smart buzzcut wearing a suit that looked almost as expensive as Percy’s. “I live next door and I could not help but notice people coming in and out, so I thought I’d introduce myself to the new neighbors…you are my new neighbor, right?” Luke stated to Percy, as the socialite found himself lost in Luke’s mesmerizing smile. “Well me and my…sisters just inherited the place and we’re not quite sure what we are going to do with it yet…” Percy attempted to explain the situation, before holding his hand out. “Hi, I am Percy Ford.” “Of the Ford dynasty?” Luke asked as he shook Percy’s hand. “Your family is very well known in this city…I am Luke Star, I’m a senior partner at Murphy and Star Law.” “A lawyer,” Percy responded as he broke off their handshake. “I am actually looking for some new representation, mostly because my parents’ lawyers are as old as dirt and I am looking to expand the family empire in new directions.” “Well I’d truly be honored to represent you anytime!” Luke confessed, as he pulled out his business card and handed it to Percy. “I’d also be truly honored to have you as a neighbor.” “I guess I’ll have to give this place a seriously contemplation then.” Percy flirted with Luke, before hearing a loud screaming noise coming from within the house, a scream that sounded like Peyton’s. “I should probably go check on my…sister!” “I am more than willing to come with you, it sounded pretty serious.” Luke suggested. “It is probably just a spider or something knowing her,” Percy lied, trying to get rid of the lawyer in case Peyton had found something even more peculiar about their biological family. “I’ll give you a call some time…” “If your sure,” Luke replied. “Feel free to call me anytime.”

Peyton was stood behind the bookstand within the attic of the Halliwell Manor, flicking through the pages of the book of shadows taking it the entirety of what the book had inside its pages: name of ancestors who were also witches, family trees, names of demons with information about them and how to defeat them, spells, potions, information on other magical beings like elves, fairies, nymphs and most importantly the charmed ones. As Peyton continued reading from the pages of the book of shadows she quickly learned that her birth mother Phoebe Halliwell was one of the charmed ones, an all powerful power of three which somehow consisted of four not three sisters and as she continued to read about the charmed legacy she quickly learned just how important they were, believing every word to be true and relieved to finally understand the world in which her birth mother lived, knowing that she was not given up over not being wanted. “That thing has not been touched by a Halliwell’s hands in far too long!” Gareth revealed, after orbing into the attic, leaving Peyton horrified, as she let out a scream of shock. “Do not worry I mean you no harm Peyton…” “Yeah I bet you say that to all your victim’s demon.” Peyton replied as she quickly picked up a nearby antique vase from a cabinet not far from her and threw it in Gareth’s direction, only for him to orb out of dodge, to then reappear in front of Gareth, to which a further shocked Peyton responded to him by punching him across the face, causing Gareth to fall to the floor in pain. “Not today, Satan, not today!” “What the bloody hell are you doing assaulting my butler?” Percy asked, as he walked into the attic, stunned by what he saw. “You have a butler, just how rich are you…wait never mind your butler is a demon!” Peyton replied to Percy, only to be met by a laugh from her half-brother. “I think someone has been reading too much from the family grimoire and not remember the reality in which we live in.” Percy dismissed his sister, as he walked over to Gareth and helped him back to his feet. “The only thing magical about my butler is the fact he manages to put up with me all the time.” “Yeah well your butler who is also my neighbor just appeared here from out of nowhere like some teleportative magic was used.” Peyton explained herself. “Do not be ridiculous.” Percy laughed once again. “How can he be your neighbor when he lives in the Ford Manor?” “Peyton’s not being ridiculous Mr. Ford,” Gareth confessed to Percy, before turning to Peyton. “But I am not a demon…I am a white lighter…specifically yours, your brother’s, and your sister’s.” “Okay now I am completely and utterly confused.” Percy admitted to them both. “A white lighter is a guardian to witches, their bodyguard so to speak as well as being their mediator to the elders.” Peyton revealed to Percy. “I kind of got carried away with the reading a little bit.” “I was all for the possibility of witches, heck even ghosts but this is just too much!” Percy confessed, struggling to take it all in. “I mean I just came here to look at an old house and now I am just supposed to take this all in…” “I know that it is a lot to get your head around but the sooner the do the safer you will be.” Gareth tried to explain to the wealthy socialite. “Everything in the book of shadows is real especially the demons and now that you’ve unbound yours and your sisters’ powers, they are going to start coming for you all.”

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substantial-exposure · 5 years ago

Text

Angsty Belch x Reader

(Warning this was originally written as an Oc x Belch so I had to tweak it and some of might still be wrong so sorry 😔)

The school day moved in fragments. Everyone in the halls had no idea where they were going besides the seniors and a few of the juniors.

It was fourth period and the minute you actually looked to your schedule you knew you'd have to go to the guidance office and get it switched. There was no way in hell you were gonna spend half the year in a drama class. God you hated electives, you studied the few freshman in the class and just to be an asshole, slid a kids back pack across the floor.

"Move it lardass." You hissed and took the kids seat.

"R-Really?Isnt- Isnt that a b-bit behi-ind you? (Y/n) ?" A young males voice came from behind you

Nothing could of stopped the grin on your face as you turned around. Maybe you weren't gonna switch classes, this could end up being a lot of fun. You turned around and saw none other than one of your least favourite freshmen, the stuttering kid himself, Bill Denbrough.

"Ah hey there DJ, you here to remix Shakespeare for us ?"

You were about to start something spectacular but the dream was cut short by the teacher telling everyone to take their seats. Bill shuffled away.

A few minutes in and the door creaked open, in walked your best friend, Blue. You broke out into a smile.

"Blue!" You called out and nodded to the seat beside you.

The girl took the seat and looked around her eyes landing on the freshman who was glaring at You. They met eyes and his softened. You didn't know but the two were somewhat acquaintances.

"Today we're gonna be doing some ice breakers so we can get to know eachother" The teacher started and the class groaned.

"This is gonna be so much fucking fun" You mumbled as you let go of Blue's wrist and walked with her through the hall.

You walked with your head held high, much different than most of the kids shrinking into them selves and staring at the floor. You expressed a level of confidence that Blue had never seen you wear before, she had only met you over the summer.

"Is that who I think it is? Holy shit! Blue, it's Moose! And he's not too bad lookin!" You laughed and followed him into the cafeteria.

Who the fuck was Moose? What kind of name was that? Was it some kind of dumb nickname like Belch has? Blue had a lot running through her mind as she blindly followed you into the cafeteria. The girls looked around trying to find the table where the boys were seated. It didn't take long to locate them once Blue saw Henry seated on the table surrounded by a group of boys.

Jade migrated towards them with you following behind her. She saw Henry's grin upon her arrival and honestly she hated how her stomach fluttered. Two weeks ago she convinced herself she needed to break up with him. Obviously she didn't go through with it but the thoughts still ran rampant, as well asked the guilt.

"Blue! Come here meet the guys" Henry said waiting for her to come closer so he could wrap his arm around her.

Her eyes moved to try and see yours to silently plead for help, then she saw that you were already seated and talking with Belch. Damn. Blue walked to Henry and looked around at the group of males that seemed to flock around him. Great, more white boys.

"Blue, this is Moose and Gard. They're part of the group too" Henry said introducing her to the two boys.

"Where the hell have they been all summer?" She asked him, Henry snickered one response

"Stevie here had summer school and Gard was shipped off to summer camp" he laughed and looked around the cafeteria.

You opened your lunch bag and started to spread out your food and snacks to everyone. Then you felt two hands cover your eyes and a deep voice come from behind you. Blue was watching this and she'd of sworn she'd never seen that boy before but all she could tell was that his clothes were expensive. She watched her friend grin.

"Guess who?"

"Holy shit!" You whipped her head around and smiled. "Peter! I haven't seen you in fucking months!" You beamed now moving to sit on the table and look back at the boy.

Reggie was looking between you both, a look of distaste covered his features. Both Blue and Henry took notice, they met eyes and Henry laughed. The final bell rang and everyone was accounted for at the entire table they took up.

"Who's this?" Blue asked looking over to the new character who had arrived and was still speaking with you.

"Jade you remember Peter right? This is the motherfucker who left us hanging after the rock fight" Henry said flatly.

Everyone went quiet, except Blue.

"Hank. Everyone left you hanging you hanging at the rock fight" She said to him crossing her arms. She had watched it happen.

"I didn't. I wasn't there" you spoke up

"Shut it (Y/N)-" Henry and Blue spoke in unison, Although Blue's tone wasn't nearly as harsh as her boyfriends.

"Henry. Cool it" Reggie warned, he was starting to grow sick of this. He knew you could fight your own battles but at this point he was fed up and all around done with this.

"Look who finally grew a pair" Henry taunted.

You stood up not looking at either of them.

"I'm gonna go to the music room I want to see if my shit is still in the recording booths" You grumbled standing up and walking out. You didn't want to deal with this shit. You'd handle Henry and his temper later after school.

"Nice going Hank" Peter grumbled

"The fuck you just say?" Henry asked, his eyebrow cocked up in question.

Belch didn't look too happy. The entire table saw that. Blue could recall a time where she was jealous of you and Reggie. You guys seemed to be the most healthy couple she knew but now she was starting to second guess that. He looked insanely jealous.

While you entered into the empty classroom you slipped into the cold recording room. Sneaking to the latter on the back wall, you began to climb. Sat on the floor of the room it lead to, you finally let yourself breathe. Sure enough there was a backpack and Walkman up there from the last year.

Blue wasn't sure what was going on being that the tone of the table seemed bitter. It was the first time she met half these people and she was beginning to realize just how much she didn't like them. They just seemed weird, she didn't click with them like she had with the boys.

"I think I'm gonna go check on (Y/n)" the girl muttered

"I'll go with you" Reggie and Peter said in unison. Reggie shot too his feet.

"I got it" Reggie sounded annoyed, like really annoyed

"Belch. Sit. Who fucking cares about what's got her crying this time-"

"Shut the fuck up Henry. I'm not dealing with your shit right now" Reggie grumbled and left the table.

All that was heard was Patrick's howling laughter as he and Blue left the table. They walked together in silence for a few moments. She could see the other loosen up the further they walked away from the cafeteria. She didn't expect the words that left his mouth, it felt like a fever dream.

"Do you think (Y/n) is cheating on me? You guys are practically connected at the hip. You'd know" he said lowly

Blue had to look at him fully. She stopped walking. "What the fuck are you talking about?" Why was she now in the middle of their relationship issues? There was no way out of this.

"You've seen the way she looks at the rest of the guys? You saw her and Peter in there. Wouldn't be surprised if she was screwing him too" Belch grumbled as he waited for Blue to keep walking.

You switched out the batteries in your Walkman and sat there with your homemade and stolen borrowed tapes. The headphones over your ears didn't do much to block out the sound of the door from the room under you opening. Your breathing was shallow, you'd been doing this for years, there was no way you'd get caught now.

Then you saw the latter shake and a low voice swearing. It was Belch. You let out a relieved breath. Thank god.

"Hey" you hummed scooting over to make room as he sat down.

"Hey" he said while looking down to Blue and making sure she was okay on her way up.

You followed his lead and did the same, watching her climb up. They both came to check on you, you thought. It was sweet. Of course, you didn't know a damn thing about the conversation the other two had just shared.

"You okay? I know Henry's been on your ass lately" He commented. His voice was neutral, but it was a lot softer than the tone Blue had heard outside.

"Fine. I'm a big kid you know" you joked nudging the boy beside you.

You watched Blue get settled and smiled faintly. This was the first time she had been there. The gang rarely ever went up there all together, it was your little hideaway, you were the only one who consistently traveled up into the ceiling of the school.

Belch looked over to the walkman you were holding, he took the headphones off your head and took off his hat to place them over his own.

"Whatcha listening to?" He asked as the sound waves registered. He cringed immediately .

Watching the scene before her Jade felt like she was intruding. Like she was witnessing something she shouldn't of been.

"The fuck are you listening to? Is this the backstreet boys?" He asked dumbfounded

"Uh... yeah?"

"I thought you hated them" he asked confused. He knew damn well that the tape had been up here and now he was growing curious of whatever else you were hiding. Music or otherwise.

"That's what I tell you. You'd make fun of me. Besides I nabbed it from Gordon's stash like a year ago"

Reggie tensed and stopped as he heard the last name. There it was again. Peter fucking Gordon. So much for waiting. He was having this conversation now even if it killed him.

"Blue, can you leave us for a bit?" Belch asked her and watched the internal struggle take place inside his friends head.

"Blue it's fine just go back to the cafeteria. I'm sure Henry wants you there" You said gently a forced smile on your lips.

Blue hated how you brought up Henry. After all this time you all still took orders from him. It was so dumb in her eyes. She let out a breath and nodded. "Fine but we're talking later" she grumbled and moved towards the latter.

She was worried leaving the two of you and she was beginning to think she had too much trust in you. Lord only knows what was happening up there while she was walking to the cafeteria again. There wasn't even a point in her going back because as soon as she sat at the table the bell had rung.

"Reg is everything okay?" You asked grabbing your old backpack and shoving all of your dusty belongings back inside. Fighting back a cough you zipped up the dirty bag.

"No. Can you just be fucking honest with me for a change?" His tone was bitter as he grabbed your wrist and held you in place.

He watched your brows furrow in what seemed to be panic and confusion. In his eyes, he thought he now had some kind of proof. That the memories were registering and you were shocked that he knew about what he thought you'd been doing. Which was the farthest thing from the truth.

"What haven't I been honest about? If this is about the poker thing-" you were cut off by his voice.

"No! I'm talking about you and Peter. You're screwing him behind my back" The male accused angrily

You were taken back by the claim, just by how fucking absurd it was. "Are you? Are you fucking kidding? Reg why would I do that? I haven't seen him since fucking June." You defended

"Oh bullshit (Y/n)! I don't even know how many guys you were fucking around with before I asked you out" he said quietly in a grumble.

"That's none of your fucking business"

"Yes it fucking is! (Y/n) just admit it" he said to her almost pleading.

"I didn't do anything! Reg I wouldn't of accepted being your fucking girlfriend if I was gonna do that"

"I just want the truth. Okay, that's all I want"

"It sounds like you won't be satisfied with the answer unless it's me confessing to something I didn't do! I never slept with him Reggie. You want the truth? Truth is he was my first kiss when I was like ten, I've never done anything else but kiss him. Now let go of me" you whimpered lastly trying to twist your hand out of his iron grip.

He hadn't even realised his grip on your wrist had tightened until he saw you wince and immediately he let go. So much for your gentle giant.

"I'm sorry-" he immediately blurted out

You looked at him with a blank stare for a moment that quickly seemed to turn into a sad anger. You went to open your mouth to speak and the bell rang beneath your feet.

"We can finish this later" you growled grabbing your backpack and sliding down the latter quickly.

"Hurry the fuck up Reginald" you spat lowly and moved out into the hall and walked along to your next class. Leaving him to find his way in the crowds.

You were so beyond pissed and so lost in your own head you stormed right past Patrick who went to talk to you in the hall.

You just wanted this day to be over.

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honestsycrets · 6 years ago

Text

Not My Scene || 5CW: Hvitserk

❛ Author’s Notes | fulfillment: party with hvitserk, masturbation with panties, right one too late.

❛ pairing | hvitserk/reader

❛ word count | 4661

❛ genre | angst

❛ summary | once upon a time, hvitserk cheated on his girlfriend. what a mistake that was.

❛ warnings | mention of drugging, mention of cheating, crazy margrethe, crazy freydis, reader is biiiiitch, but a lovable bitch

He could have stayed home. After all, house warming parties weren’t really his style. They were just excuses to booze up. Which, shit, he had. His brothers were busy arguing over wine coolers. Ivar insisted that they were a pussy man’s drink with malt liquor while Sigurd insisted that they could have heavier alcohol if they wanted to! Then were wine coolers really wine coolers or malt coolers?

Ugh. This whole thing was giving him one huge headache and he wasn’t sure it was the frozen tequila lemonade swirled with raspberries that he had downed. It was… well, it was you. You were slinking around wearing a cute tule minidress complete with a black matching cincher. A silky bow around your waist and--

Wait, he recognized that leather jacket.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been the one wearing it that first day he met you, swirling around in chunky black ankle boots that you were also wearing just by chance.

“Hvitserk!” He hears a group of your friends call out to him. His big brother Bjorn and Ubbe were in the fray. “Come take a picture with us!”

When Ubbe was there, he made it really hard to say no. So biting the bullet and carrying on, he made his way over to the group with his hands shoved in a freshly new hoodie.

“Stand by (Y/N)! For old times sake!” Your bubbly asian friend calls out and before he can really deny her, her adorably pudgy frame pushes him in beside you.

“Come here, bun-bun.” You pose cutely beside him, the side of your breast against his flat chest. “You’re not wearing a white shirt, today, white shirt?” You tease like old times, letting the ache of his heart beat for the times which… things were easier. When you loved him. He looks down to his black v-neck, laughing softly.

“No, guess I’m not.” He notes.

One! Two! Three! The blinding light of a flash marks the end of a photo. You reach onto the top of your head, flicking down holographic bug eyed glasses.

“Nice to see you again!” You wink at him then bubble on past the thin, stringy purple curtains back to the kitchen of your home. He wonders, and yet he knows, you feel nothing for him after falling apart in college.

You had your scene.

He had his.

With an aching sigh in his chest, Hvitserk turns the corners up the stairs to your bathroom. He could do with a cold splash of water to drag him out of this funk. It wasn’t as if Ubbe hadn’t taken to Bjorn. Sigurd and Ivar were begrudging company in their drinking contests-- spiting each other and loving each other all in one.

Climbing up the hardwood stairs, he comes to the bathroom. Locked with the flicker of a bright yellow light and obscene-- faster, faster off the lips of a couple. He almost thinks its some dude getting his rocks off but then, you like that? The other voice has an equally feminine quality.

Shit, he feels himself grow beneath his pants. He knows its wrong to harass a couple that may or may not be lesbians. So instead of beating down the door, he spots another room. The second he walks into it he knows its a mistake.

You always loved fairy lights. White ones to contrast against your favourite lavender, royal purple and cerulean blue. Deep and vivid while still being light and dainty. Quirky-- like you. He travels his fingers along the airy white of your furniture.

That one he pounded you into while your father was downstairs, claiming that the door better stay open. Then the armoire where… and mistakenly he ambles that way, sliding the metal dangling moon on top of your long cabinet that sits on top of the wooden piece to pull out the one place where you always kept them.

His fingers run across pretty, stringy panties. The other will be the same, he assumes. You always kept bras in one place and panties with another. Your sex toys would be in a sneaky-not so sneaky pouch and god, you would sneak into your bed at night and ride a fat dildo just for him on really good nights. Send him the video while you thought he wasn’t looking.

God damn.

His favourite panties always were those stringy, aqua cheekies with the cut outs. They weren’t there. He closes back up despite catching sight of all of the pretty white, powder pink and dark blue and purple panties that he bought you once upon a time. There’s some other obscure colours even. But his curiosity brings him to your galaxy clothes bin, searching between mini skirts and leggings until he finds what he’s after… his favourites.

Used and soiled by your sweet cunt, he shudders to think of where these might have been. Hvitserk hopes that they weren’t where he thought they were.

Bun-bun. Bunny.

He can hear that stupid nickname. What was it? For your love of bunnies or his man bun that had been chopped off the moment you messaged him, we’re over. God, it burns, it burns. He comes to your bed, squeaking as he lays upon it.

But it wasn’t all bad. There were good times! How cute you dressed up as his very own playboy bunny once. He sucks in air at that very memory on this very bed, shaking your puffy faux fur tail at him. Which really wasn’t a tail but a cheap marketing ploy for a beautiful fucking anal plug.

He should really not be here but thank god he locked that door because the heavy steps outside your door as he loosens his pants would have been killer. Beside your bed is a desk, bearing stupid little k-beauty masks and sweet vanilla lotion. He pumps a bit into his hand, drawing the panties around his cock. To his shock-- there’s still a moist spot.

Did you wear them to bed?

With another man?

A woman?

Or were you being the woman he remembered, watching your favourite porn on x-videos or hentai haven or whatever it was. Your body would grind down upon the chair, a bullet grazing your lips up to your slutty clit for love and shit, he knows how much you used to love gangbang porn.

Shiiiit. He tugs his cock, turning in the bed to turn his nose into your lavish silk pillows. Good for the hair, or some shit. He inhales sharply, working his fist harder and reliving the moments he was so able to lay in bed with you… once upon a time ago. His strokes lose focus, falling apart in the richest of his memories.

“Bunny?”

Oh no. His nose is still deep in your pillows when he dares turn his face to you. Shock wears your beautifully done up face-- that purple highlighter accentuating your cheek bones and adorably innocent white glitter of your eyes. Shit, he squeezes his dick in his hand.

“You’re not…. You are!” You flick off those bug eyed glasses, tossing them aside as you take a few steps closer. He cringes, turning onto his forearms and backs up as if that can help him find the right words.

To be in your bed-- jerking his cock off.

With your panties.

“I… was… uh.” Hvitserk runs his hand through his slicked back hair, trying to find the right words. You pluck your panties off of his dick, flicking them in another direction. He nearly leaps out of his skin when you fist the root of his cock, sinking onto the bed.

“No need to say anything.” You hum, slapping the head of his dick against your glossed lips. “You missed me, BunBun.”

He wishes he could come up with something, but the only words are a shocked moan when you shove his dick into your wet, hot mouth. Hvitserk cringes, trying his best to still upon the bed. He can’t help himself, kicking out his legs as you suckle him down. It’s a show, taking him as far as you can take and then lifting up off of him like he was nothing.

“Please… no.” He whines at the absence of your lips upon him. But then, your lips sloppily kiss down his shaft in the same way he used to make whilst eating you out. Your mouth makes its way down to his balls, suckling one. Instant pleasure hits him like a train, causing him to uncomfortably shift. His hands search out for the top of your head but then-- you take ahold of his shaft. It’s too much-- it’s too much to have your lips upon him, migrating from one side to another, then on top of his his tip to devour him whole.

“Stop, stop stop!” He shouts for you to stop. Instead of helping though, you ignore him. He spills into your mouth with a great shout, painting the cavern of your mouth with his seed. Your lips seal around his cock, suckling the remains of his excitement down.

Damn.

“Shit.” He curses as you sit up. You push the remnants of his excitement into your lips and despite having gone soft-- its almost as if he wants to go hard allll over again. Your lips quirk into a wicked smile.

“You’re as easy as I remember.” You say, bouncing off of your bed and going into the connected bathroom. He hears you in the bathroom messing with your brush and toothpaste.

“What are you doing?” He asks from your bed— as meek as the bunny he was named after.

“Cleaning your spunk out my mouth, what do you think?” You say. A few minutes later, you resurface from the bathroom fluffing your hair a bit.

“Well? Get out, Bun Bun.” You busy yourself with applying a bright, popping lipstick. “If we get caught, it’ll be all your fault.”

You were kicking him out without talking of that? Whatever that was… it was random. He tucks himself away into his pants and you toss him your panties to confuse him further. You pop the door of your room open, flicking your glasses back on.

“Keep them as a momento. Since you’ll never get my pussy again, slutty bun. Maybe Margrethe is out there somewhere.”

I was drunk!

It was his fault.

All of this-- losing you, sleeping with Margrethe. Yeah, he knew that you were in your right to break up with him. But as he composed yourself in your bathroom, he kept convincing himself that there was something there.Most women would have tossed him out on his ass if there hadn’t been! Not sucked him off.

Even with all that in mind, he wished he could remember actually sleeping with Margrethe. This was the exact reason you kicked him out of your shared apartment at the time-- throwing trash bags of his shit out the door with. Every time that he tried to recall it, it was like descending into a deep black abyss. Perhaps guilt had done him in. Water is cold on his skin, sweat on his body mattifying. He digs into his jacket pocket, covering himself in what you always called a whore’s bath of cologne.

Fuck this… fuck this. Why couldn’t he… remember? Why!?

“Hvitserk.”

Behind him, Ubbe stood with his latest fling. A curvy, dark skinned girl with beautiful waved curls that wave in front of her face. Her slanted eyes dark and obscure… but she was warm. Different from what he was used to seeing on Ubbe’s arm.

“Yeah.” He smoothes out his hair, a few stray honey locks in his eyes.

“Laarni and I are going home.” Ubbe slides his arm behind the small of her back, leaning in to plant a small kiss on her head. Her plump lips spread into a sickly bright smile-- and of course it did. They were happy. “Margrethe and Freydis are here. Are you coming home?”

“I’ll be fine.” He says, staggering from behind the couple. “I just need a drink.”

Against his better judgement, Hvitserk stays.

Freydis and Margrethe were an unlikely sort of friends. He can’t say how they really got to know each other, only that as he sways down the steps, they cluster about drinking. Freydis chitchats beside her boyfriend Eric.

“--a little cherry makes it all better.” He catches the tail end of Margrethe’s words. “Hvitserk!”

Shit, fuck. She’s here. Hvitserk gives a light smile as he turns into the cluster of friends. Beside them is a cooler of drinks. He slips down to pick up a beer, popping it open and standing beside them. Margrethe sticks to him like a magnet, one that he quickly shaves off of his arm.

“Uh, I think I gotta go…” He murmurs an excuse for himself. Past Freydis’s sassing bob and Eric’s smooth hair, he finds you standing in the way you always used to when you watched him. A pop of your hips out, weight on one hip and your nail to your lip. The other held some kind of hard liquor. You shift the glass around between your manicured fingertips, tilting your head like the time you overheard he ate a pound of sourbelts at the mall.

“Why? Do you have someone new?” Freydis asks, bobbing her hair in a sassy little bob.

“No, I just…”

“Margrethe is here to take care of you.” She cuts him off, running the back of her hand over Margrethe’s soft cheek almost affectionately so. The touch could even be called tender. The thought whizzes by his head that the two must have been sleeping together because god, Margrethe leans into the touch.

“Uh, no I-- I think I’ll go home.” He slurs. “Lemme just go get a snack before I call a uber. I’m kinda wasted.”

Before he can move, Margrethe grasps his shoulder. She reaches out to take his drink, holding it with a sickingly bright smile that Hvitserk can’t see past.

“Get me some too! I’ll hold your drink.”

Against his better judgement, he slips off to the kitchen. If it means getting away from Freydis, he would do anything. There was something… wrong about her. He couldn’t place it. It would just take a little bit, he reasons. Then he could get away from them. Besides he swore that there were wings when he came in earlier!

“Okay.”

Something didn’t sit well with you.

Yeah, Hvitserk wasn’t your responsibility any more. You should have just left things where they were in that room. He could have your panties and Margrethe’s pussy. Who cared! You certainly didn’t-- but in the same breath…Hell yeah you cared, that was the bitch that he cheated on you with.

You convince yourself to focus on what you were talking about. But of the corner of your eye, you catch something that doesn’t set well with you. Freydis digs into her glittering handbag, handing Margrethe something small. A vial that is smaller than her finger. Margrethe fiddles with the top, cracking the plastic top open… and then she spills it within what you were sure was Hvitserk’s drink. She swishes it around just enough that the liquid might mesh with whatever he has been drinking. There’s no guessing what that was.

“Sis, take a picture with us!” Your twin brothers call out to you. Ahh, shit. Being popular wasn’t all what it was cracked out to be.

Before you could get back to Freydis and Margrethe, Hvitserk came back with a plate for his once fling. Margrethe took it from his fingers, handing him his drink. Hvitserk sets his hand into his pocket.

“It’s kind of salty.” He motions, chugging down his drink. His face scrunches up tight. “So is this shit.”

“Must’ve gotten one of those skunk beers like me.” Eric nudges Hvitserk’s arm with a closed fist. Innocently Hvitserk thinks nothing of it. Shit, it happened. He moves to toss it into a recycling bin when you grab his wrist tight.

“Shit!” He jumps, heart pumping. “(Y/N), where did you come from?”

“Did you drink that?” You ask, light strobing off of your lovely cheeks. His face contorts as if he can’t understand why you were so protective over a drink. Maybe it was yours?

“Uh… was I not supposed to?” He asks.

“We were just leaving!”

From his side, Margrethe clings to his arm. You almost throw back something at Hvitserk, but he’s the first to insist that he wasn’t going with her. Desperately he looks toward you as if concerned that you would believe her-- her over him. Reasonable, you think. You recognize the glazing look over his eyes little by little. Just like last time.

“The fuck you are, you ratchet little bitch.” You sneer.

“Excuse me?” Margrethe rolls her neck around, a pink bob of hair bobbing on her head. Hvitserk looks between his ex and well, his other ex.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re playing with?” You snap her hand off of Hvitserk’s toned upper arms. A small, hope filled smile creeps onto his face-- but not at all for the reasons that he originally hoped.

“(Y/N), I’m uh, I’m fine.” He deflects the impending fight. Beside Hvitserk, Freydis and Erik creep closer. It should have been intimidating, but pushing Hvitserk behind your arm you ball up your fist. He staggers back from your arm shielding him.

“Get out of my damn house.”

It’s the first and last warning. Freydis looks toward Erik as if to threaten him-- but with two muscular twin brothers pushing past those clustered around the fight, Erik takes the high road. Sensing her boyfriend’s skepticism and perhaps having some of her own, Freydis reaches for Margrethe’s hand, pulling her in the way of the door.

“Come on Margrethe.” She says. “You can see Hvitserk later.”

The pathetic little whimper signals the fact that yeah, they’re leaving. As you turn back to Hvitserk, it’s with the realization that the glazing of his eyes has only thickened. If what you thought was true, was really true, time would be on your side.

“Are you okay, Bunny?” You ask.

It’s slow at first. The sluggish way he scratches the back of his head, arms like heavy weights. Everything in his body slowly begins to feel weaker, more prone to accidental brushes when his perception is throne off.

“I don’t feel so good. I’m sleepy.” Hvitserk’s speech shifts, almost pleasured. “But you look good. Real good.”

You shift around Hvitserk, bringing his arm over your shoulder. You grasp his waist to help him up the steps to your bedroom.

“Let’s go to my bedroom, okay?” You ask.

“For fuckin’?”

“Not quite, bunny boo. You’re drunk baby.” You respond in a smooth, quick response.

“I want it. I miss that tasty fucking pussy on my face.” Well, at least he wasn’t agitated.

Whatever it was that they had slipped into his beer, you couldn’t say. But knowing Hvitserk and his fear of doctors, you take him up to your room. Your brothers pull open the door and help you lower him onto the bed. Hvitserk’s drops his hands at his sides, laying limply upon your bed while you slip off his shoes.

“You okay, Hvitty? I’m going to change you, okay?” You slip off his socks, loosening the button to his belt. His eyelids are heavy with his need to sleep but he still manages to nod at you loosely.

“Okay… Does this mean I get a kiss? I got a headache…” He whispers while you strip him off his pants. His pasty legs are still beneath the fabric-- even more when you pull them away. You’re not entirely sure how the loss of motor function doesn’t bother him.

“Kiss?” He whines heavily while you walk over to your dresser. His old basketball shorts in your dresser being one of the main items. You lift up from his hips to place a gentle kiss on his lightly damp forehead.

“Kiss.” You affirm. At long last Hvitserk smiles loosely, but its not without its drawbacks. The heaviness of his eyes begins to overtake him. How did I get here? Before he can even get the answer to that question, he loses himself to the wave of exhaustion.

If this time was like last time, so you feared, Hvitserk wouldn’t remember anything from the next day. On the top of your bed was a thick, green blanket. Black shadowing makes the outline of a cutesy kitten with pearly white fangs mewing at the viewing party. You drape it over Hvitserk’s body, watching his respirations closely.

Through the night, it all becomes obvious.

Catching Hvitserk in bed with the claim that… he couldn’t remember anything. Back then it seemed like a handy excuse for a man that was caught in bed with his woman. Why not? You had caught him in his ball faced lie! What man woke up in bed with a woman and could not remember any details of the affair?

Apparently, Hvitserk.

The next morning comes as a shock to Hvitserk, puking his brains out into the trash receptacle on his edge of the bed the second he woke up. He felt his mind wandering… and again, that black hole of space owns his head.

Except this time, it’s not with Margrethe. Its your perfumed pillows under his head. Your quirky sheets and most importantly, your body by his. In his daze, he can hardly appreciate the fact that yeah, it wasn’t her this time.

“Shit… what happened?” He collapses upon the pillows at long last. You lay beside him, hands on your chest. A plain black slip covers your body-- evidence that he didn’t fuck you. If he had, shit, that thing would have been chucked onto the floor. His favourite was spooning naked with you, after all!

“What do you remember about the night I caught you cheating?”

That was a hell of a way to wake up the morning. Reflecting back upon it, the whole… weekend was a blur. He could hardly tell down from up or left from right. Not that he thought that you needed to know how he handled that night after catching him in another woman’s bed. No woman deserved that.

“I don’t remember. You… I guess you found me in bed with her when you came home from your overnight shift. So you broke up with me then and there.” Hvitserk states with stale emotion as if he’s reading lines handfed to him out of a book. Of course you knew that!

“Before that.” You roll onto your side with eyes following the fuzzy line of his sideburns down to his jaw.

“I don’t.” He states uncomfortably. What kind of man was he to… to… “Do we have to talk about this? You didn’t explain how I got here.”

As he points it out, you don’t have the heart to tell him why. Really why, not because of what happened that night. What could have happened before was what frightened you. What did Freydis, Eric and Margrethe want with your Bunbun? What had they planned to do to him?

“The girls drugged you.”

Hvitserk turns to face you in the bed and meets you with uncertainty. No, not uncertainty glinting in his innocent grassy eyes. That was… fear inking his irises. After all, it… if it was true… that could only mean one thing to him. Hvitserk wasn’t going crazy like Ivar and Ubbe told him he was while recounting the story.

It wasn’t because he was a whore who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. That wasn’t the reason that he lost time with the one woman that changed his traitorous body from succumbing to lust. No, he hadn’t just… laid on his back and slept with someone else because he wanted to. The whore, skank, slut, easy, she’s better off without you at school. It wasn’t him.

“What… what do you mean?” He dares to ask, knowing indeed the answer to his own irrelevant question.

“She was planning to rape you, Bunny. If I… hadn’t been watching, Erik and Freydis would be in bed with Margrethe and you.” Your words settle like a heavy stone in his gut. Of course, he always speculated there was more.

But… this? Margrethe would do this to him?

He never thought he broke up that cruelly with her for Margrethe to ruin his world. Not just his world, but to strip away something that belonged to him: his memory. For so long Hvitserk did not believe his own brain. He lays there, staring at the smooth lines of the top of your room.

“She… raped me.”

It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. Your hands come over his waist, winding around him to hold him nice and tight. His hand falls down to the one around his waist.

“It’s okay Bunny.” You soothe. “It’ll all be okay.”

It certainly didn’t feel okay. Not when he considered all that he lost. Yet…

“Don’t tell Ubbe. You know my brothers.” He glances over his shoulder, tears pricking his eyes that he holds still. If Ubbe found out then the rest of his brothers would surely know. Sigurd could hold no secrets and he fears what Ivar would spill with that big mouth of his. Because, after all, what kind of man allowed himself to be drugged by a woman? He was meant to be a protector. To protect YOU. Not the other way around.

“You should tell him.” You whisper, setting your cheek upon his shoulder. “In your time.”

All this time he thought he drank too much.

“Maybe one day.” Hvitserk nudges his arm over his cheek, rolling into his shoulder to dry the wet lines of his shame. You know that he would not. Pressing him-- after all that he had gone through, that would have been a mistake. After a decisive moment, you reevaluate everything.

“Bunbun?”

Hm? Hvitserk grunts in his response.

“Was that the only time you… “cheated” on me?” You question with great skepticism. That wasn’t cheating. Of course you knew that was a woman that worked hard with at risk youth who had gone through the same experiences as your sweet, adorable bun. Who was now much less of a Bunbun than he used to be.

“Why would I do that?” Hvitserk turns back around. The tears he spilled earlier are dry and now, well, he only shows his outrage to the assumption that he had done it upon his own. Not exactly the most graceful of appeals but he knows the manner in which you speak. If there was any doubt of that-- he rather take care of this pesky issue now.

“I never gave you reason before then. (Y/N) if I ever did you should have asked me! I wouldn’t lie to you. You are the only reason I would cut my bun, (Y/N). The only one!”

Sure, he never did. But in your concern for going through that feeling again, kicking Hvitserk out with trash bags of his things, slouching against the cold walls of your constricting apartment… you had to ask. You hold his green eyes in an accusatory glare, searching out the sign of his fault. There’s none.

“Then… you can come back home.” Your hands travel behind his head, picking at the short little bits of hair that have been making a sad little ponytail.

“What?” He murmurs. A smile escapes his lips, growing until you give him a little tug. “You serious?”

“But first you have to grow out your hair, Bun!” You exclaim. What kind of bun didn’t have a proper bun!

“Done and done.”

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