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lorelune · 11 days

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(minors & ageless blogs dni. a piece for @ainescribe for helping me with my theme 💓 cw: predator/prey, hints of dubcon)

"i'll give you a head start."

jing yuan tells you this with a pleasant, easy smile and his hands behind his back. and no context. you cock your head at him from across the little table you share, and take a sip of your cold tea.

"come again, dear?" you knock your ankle against his under the table.

"i'm giving you a five minute head start." jing yuan leans closer and rests his chin his palm. his eyes take on a cat-like glint. "i've already started counting. i'd get going if i were you, sweetling."

you only want more of it.

your chest feels tight all of a sudden.

"jing yuan—"

"i won't be going easy on you." his smile verges on smug as he leans forward. "and i would advise to take full advantage of this time. i think you'll need it."

he leans away from you and tilts his head. it would be cute if you couldn't see the rapidly darkening mischief in his gaze. you jolt up from your little table, clattering your chair on the cobbled walkway. he eyes you up and down like a big cat sizing up its next meal as you step backwards, nearly stumbling.

something in your gut twists, like a hot iron.

you turn on a heel and walk as fast as you can without drawing too much attention to yourself. weaving around the late-night crowds and ducking around street vendors and their burning latterns, your heart pounds. faster and faster.

this had been your idea originally. you just hadn't expected jing yuan to entertain it (though on some level, he entertains all of your ideas.) this desire of yours seemed too risky, too innately... unlike him. at least to you.

this game had been a fantasy. one you'd confessed your interest in a few weeks prior, while luxuriating in a pleasantly steaming bath together. you shared a glass of wine, passed between sips after a slow, tender evening. you'd playfully started a conversation about things to try in the bedroom, and somehow, the Divine Foresight and honey wine managed to wring a few previously unspoken desires out of you.

this is the result, you suppose, as you stumble around a corner, toward jing yuan's estate.

you should've known that jing yuan would spring this fantasy on your unexpectedly. that was part of the allure. the hunt, the chase— you're just prey now, with no time to prepare or plan. the innate helplessness has already stirred something in you, even though jing yuan hasn't done anymore than send you hungry looks and promises.

you're sure five minutes have passed. you're positive that the man is trailing you, even if you can't hear or see him. you don't have the military prowess that he does, you're just a civilian. your footfalls are loud as you break into a run near his estate and its towering walls.

your hands shake as you hold your jade abacus to its lock. the slow 'clunk' of gears opening the gates feels like it goes on forever. your heart is pounding in your ears, like a drum that won't stop. you're out of breath, but force yourself to sprint the moment the door swings open.

you hide in one of his gardens.

jing yuan has many green spaces on his estate. it's situated on a large enough space to allow for a small stream running through the largest garden into the front yard. ponds gurgle nearby, filled with fat, sleepy fish. you wake them as you dash around the greenery and shrubs, uncaring of the dirt that is staining your shoes. the bottom of your outer most garment must be getting torn as it snags on the brush below.

the gate of the estate opens and closes once more, somewhere not far behind you. your heart lurches, your stomach feels cold and hollow and you run.

jing yuan knows his estate better than you, clearly. you don't know where is safe, but in his largest garden, there are large gingko trees and stones that seem okay to hide behind. maybe. you are too anxious, too out of your fucking mind, to use sound logic at this point. you scramble behind a smooth quartz boulder and lay a hand on your chest. panting. tears sting your the corners eyes as you desperately try to catch your breath.

you listen the best you can to see if you can hear him follow you. it's hard to pick up every little sound, breeze shakes the tree branchers into a late-evening song. cicadas chirp to disguise any potential footfalls. it would probably be best to hide somewhere on the edge of the garden. you're in the center of it, not far from the stream. you don't dare peak out from your hiding spot, but you should move— you feel so exposed—

a floorboard creaks nearby. you freeze.

the wind almost stills with the sound. you can't breathe as you strain to hear more. it came from the west, where you know there's an entrance to this garden. you think. probably. your heart pounds so loudly, you can barely hear anything over the roar.

you do another sound, though. the sound of a boot fall, onto stone. there's a path laid with them not far from where you are.

something white-hot, old and feral burst in your chest.

you need to fucking run.

with a burst of energy that makes you feel light-headed, you push off the ground and throw yourself over the rock you were hiding behind, away from the sounds that are surely jing yuan stalking you.

your feet hit the ground and you run. run, run, run—

you swear you can feel more footfalls than just your own, but you can't look behind you. all of your focus is on weaving through the gardens trees and shrubbery, to gain and sort of ground.

you stumble, eventually. it's inevitable that you lose. the game is set up that way.

you trip over your own feet as you near the little stream that cuts the garden and gurgles. your momentum ruins you; you can't right yourself fast enough.

a hand catches the back of your collar and pulls. your breath catches, caught in your throat by the pressure. an arm, his arm, bundle you up at the waist and slams your body into his. your back to his front. the force of it knocks the air out of you.

you still scramble, you can't help it. squirming and kicking, you fight against the unyielding grip he has on you. he's hot against your back, scalding even. the metal bits of his armor and belts dig into your as your struggle fruitlessly.

"what's this?" jing yuan says into your ear, soft and curling. "i thought you would do a little better than this."

you whine. your stomach feels cold.

jing yuan laughs then, rich and low like he always does. but there's a darker edge to it now. you can feel it spread down the back of your neck, your spine, drenching you down to your toes. he squeezes you, and you feel yourself get wet.

(you're fucked.)

"you'll have to try harder next time." jing yuan says. "maybe i did go a little easy on you."

"s-sure you did—"

jing yuan nips your ear. "what was that? i didn't realize prey animals were capable of speech."

you crane your neck, ready to snap at him, but you don't get the chance too.

in a single motion, jing yuan has you thrown over his shoulder. blood rushes too quickly to all of the places it shouldn't be. you feel dizzy with it and whine and sputter with it.

jing yuan doesn't yield, only laughs again, and gives your bottom a few firm (very firm) pats. you gulp.

(lucidly remembering the other details you revealed to jing yuan in the bath that night. all of the filthiest bits of your fantasies. jing yuan hardly had to ply you for them.)

and jing yuan is a strategist. you should have known he would use this new information advantageously against you in such a way.

as you enter his manor, heart still pounding, palms clammy, and feeling like a rabbit in the jaws of a lion, you feel foolish and turned on all once. jing yuan so easily catches you off guard when he chooses. he so easily undoes you, puts you in a place of his choosing and let's you fester there just enough that he can remedy it— either with sweetness or, as he now so adeptly showing you, with something an edge darker.

you gulp, light-headed.

#jing yuan x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x you #lore writes #oh to be a prey animal like reader in the jaws of jing yuan. how i crave.#drabble

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starconsumer444 · 4 years

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“You’ll Love Me in the Morning”

(Miya Atsumu 18+)

A/N: I’ve had this idea for a while. It’s based off this guy I knew who was a pain in the ass to deal with and I was sure he’d kill me. He didn’t though, so now this exists. Full circle, yeah?

(CW/TW: Yandere!Atsumu, [I don’t like that term for this, but it describes it well enough, I suppose???], Incel!Atsumu [??????], Non-con, Sadism, Crying, Recording, Kidnapping, A dash of Misogyny, Spitting, Slapping, Punching, Kicking, Fighting, Strangulation, Borderline snuff [but no actual death], Mind-break???, Name-Calling, !!THIS IS FUCKED UP!!, Bad proofreading but I tried my best<3, please tell me if there’s a mistake somewhere.)

Atsumu is a demented heathen and you finally have to face what you’ve picked up on for so long. This isn’t shocking. You told everyone he was weird. Why didn't they believe you?

You thrash violently against his hold as he drags you back to his bedroom by your hair. His grip is strong and unwavering. You throw punches at his arms and try to dig your heels into the ground, that only earns you a harsh tug forward.

“You fucking weirdo! Let me go!” You yell at him but he doesn’t even spare a glance over his shoulder to be face to face with your indignation.

You start to fight even harder, with more fury when he grabs the door handle to his room. You know you don’t want to go back in there and you fear you’ll never come back out if you do. You dig your nails into his forearm as you kick at his legs. You're screaming your lungs out, hoping to god that someone hears you and comes to your rescue.

Where does that get you? Nowhere.

It takes the athlete so little effort to throw your struggling body to the floor of his room and slam the door behind himself. For a second, the fight’s knocked right out of you and you're silent as you see his menacing figure loom over you.

The expression on your face is that of a deer in headlights— Atsumu can’t help but feel a little pleased and sadistic.

He looks amused, like this is all a game to him. He wears that same cocky smirk, but his eye’s are no longer gentle, there’s a darkness behind them that you know for a fact you would've picked up on had it been there before.

Why did you agree to come here?

“I want to go home, Atsumu.” You declare sternly as you get back to your feet and meet his eyes. Really though, you don’t think you can keep this facade up. Your heart is beating out of your chest and the only thing keeping you on your feet and not shaking about is will power. “Where are my clothes?” There’s demand in your voice, but you’re sure even Atsumu can hear it waver.

“Come on, baby,” He steps toward you and for every one of his steps forward you take one step back. Soon enough you're pressed up against his wooden bed frame. “Just be good for the camera.”

You eye it, the red light signaling that its recording from on top of his tv stand across thee room.

“No!” You push at his chest. It’s pure muscle. Even through the fabric of his black shirt you can feel it. You can’t fight him, but you’re not going to give up.

“Why not?” His voice is honeyed. He lifts your head by your chin and lets his thumb run over your bottom lip. His eyes meet yours and they’re filled with feigned compassion, like he hadn’t just thrown you to the floor. “I’ve been so nice to you.”

“Because I don’t want this. I don’t want to be here anymore.” You were supposed to be hanging out but you woke up with your clothes gone and hidden away. “Atsumu, I rejected you. Why don’t you get it?” You stare daggers right back into his brown eyes, but he just chuckles and harshly presses his lips to yours.

Your hands hastily grab onto the fabric of his shirt as you fall back onto his bed, his lips not leaving yours for a second. His large frame traps you under him. Your hands are flat against his chest as you try to push him off. It’s useless, you feel him smile against your lips as he uses one hand to grab both of your wrists and hold them away from himself. Quickly enough, your legs come up to kick at him. It’s doesn’t last very long. You whimper into his lips as a strong hand comes down to slap your thigh. It stings like hell and has you relenting immediately.

“Kiss me back.” He demands breathily, only parting for a second to look you in the eye and tell you what to do.

Needless to say, you refuse.

That only has him sitting up, and slapping you silly when you don't comply.

He holds your arms firmly and whales on you. He’s saying something about you being a “disrespectful and unappreciative bitch”. You can barely hear him—not over your small whines as you try to turn your head and wriggle away from him. He slaps you about ten times before he stops.

He lets you go— moves off of you, and you hastily move to the headboard. Maybe if you don’t actually try to run he won’t hurt you anymore.

“Atsumu-”

“What happened to ‘Tsumu?” Even if you weren’t looking each other dead in the eyes the smile he wore would be more than obvious in his voice.

There you go with that deer in headlights look again like you’re the victim, he thinks to himself. He’s the one with the broken heart; not you.

He moves himself closer to you, officially giving you no where to go or run to. He’s right between your legs when he leans forward to kiss you again. You still don’t reciprocate.

“Yer bein’ difficult,” He scolds, lacing his hand in your hair and yanking you to the side. Your heads cocked uncomfortably but you still keep your eyes on him.

“Please let me go.” Your voice isn’t strong anymore more, you’re practically begging.

You don’t even see it because you flinch when he does it but you feel it. His spit lands, frothy, thick and disgusting on your cheek.

“Stop asking that shit, yer not goin’ anywhere.” Your body tenses. Your hands come to your chest, almost curling in on yourself, when you feel his hand strike your tits— each once, individually. “Say you love me.” He yanks your hair again.

He pinches your thigh when you don’t respond quickly enough.

You just jerk away from the feeling.

Your first tear falls upon the realization that you’re not getting out of this and they seemingly never stop coming afterwards.

He lets go of your hair and your first move is to try to run away from him. You make it barely past his shoulder when he slams you down onto his mattress again. Your head bumps into the headboard on the way down, but he pays that no mind.

The struggle is violent, you’re scratching him like a wild animal and none of your kicks land solidly on any part of him. He slaps and punches you several times telling you to knock it off, but not once do you relent. He ends up with his palm flat against your face pressing you down firmly into the mattress as he pulls his sweats and boxers down and positions himself at your entrance.

You feel the head of his dick smooth right between your folds and you feel the wetness of his precum spread along with it. For the first time, your hit lands solid. You slap him across the face and bite his palm.

The only thing you see is his displeased face before your world is made a spinning blur by his fist meeting with the side of your head, it’s filled with way more violence than the last few times. Then he lands one of your stomach and it knocks the air out of you right before he guides himself into you.

You try to scream, but the sounds not there. It feels like he is tearing you apart from the inside. You twist in agony and you can hear him laughing at you. Then he moves himself and the pace is brutal. He wants you to hurt, he doesn't have to say it.

His calloused hands wrap around your throat and squeeze tightly. You're going to die; Atsumu is going to kill you.

You flounder beneath him but he pays it no mind. Moans spill from his lips like he’s enjoying himself.

“Baby, I’ve wanted this for so long,” He looks you dead in the eyes with that cruel smile. “But you don’t know how to give men what they want, do you?” Your mouth hangs open when you try to gasp for air— he takes the opportunity to spit right onto your tongue. “Been so nice for so long, but incompetent bitches like you wanna play hard to get. Hate that shit.” His grip on your throat loosens for a second; you manage to get a little air right before he tightens both hands right back again.

Now it feels like he’s trying to ram his dick right past your cervix. Bug eyed and terrified, you shake your head. It hurts so fucking bad.

“Yer bleedin’, ya know?” It’s a low chuckle. When he looks down to see where your bodies meet, then looks back up at you, he smiles. “Sluts like you deserve it. Pussy’s gunna be destroyed for anyone else who tries to use it.” His grip is now impossibly tight and you’re sure this is it. You’re sure he’s going to kill you.

This is no way to go. You don’t want to die like this, with Atsumu violating you and your lungs burning. You kick at his sides and its weak along with your slaps to his forearms and scratches at his face. Still, his skin is marked red and on the verge of bleeding in some areas.

You're coughing and trying to sit up but he slams you back down by your neck. Drool starts to fall from the corner of your mouth and you want to beg him but you can’t. Your hands squeeze at his forearm, trying to appeal to his better nature.

He just calls you a weak little bitch. “Should learn to smile for the camera, yer gonna be my little snuff star soon.” He beams. You squeeze his arm even harder, the pads of your fingers are sure to leave bruises.

As your tunnel vision starts to kick in he lets go and shoves two of his fingers into your mouth. You choke around them as you try to catch your breath.

Your body’s limp and you’re not fighting him anymore, you’re just coughing viciously around his fingers as the worlds color comes back to you.

“Stop cryin’” He reprimands as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth to slap you. The delivery is as rough as ever but you’re too dazed to register it fully; you just let out a painful mewl. You hadn’t even realized you were still crying, but it’s even worse now. You feel the snot pooling around your upper lip. “Yer not fuckin’ dead. What the fuck are you still doing that for.”

Your chest feels heavy as you stop coughing and gasp for air. Your throat hurts, your strength is gone, but you’re alive and sure there’s a god. There has to be, you were sure Atsumu would kill you. Still, Atsumu is ramming himself right into your cervix like he’s going to magically break past it.

You muster up just enough strength to pull your self away from it with your elbows, but he pulls you back down onto it and holds you by your waist. You can feel the wetness of his fingers covered in your spit pressed against your skin. You sob out hoarsely, but there's little sound and he smirks.

Your hand viciously taps at his shoulder and you shake your head; tears are still falling. You try to tell him that it hurts, but when you open your mouth to speak, “hur-” is all you manage before your sound is gone and your throat aches. He’s destroyed you.

He gets the message.

“I don’t care if it hurts.” He furrows his brows. “Fucking me is a privilege and you’ll like whatever I give you.” Right when he says that his rhythm falters and he starts to loose himself in the pleasure of being wrapped in your heat.

“Fuck, ahhh-” He moans out, head coming down into your neck. His lips press against you in a wet kiss and you can feel the heat of his breath against you. “Should get you pregnant, it’s not like you’re goin’ anywhere.” He says before he bites into your shoulder and cums inside you with a guttural moan. Your back arches off the mattress and you feel his palm flatten against your stomach between you and him before he forcefully pushes you back down.

Atsumu doesn't know what he’ll do with you or the video quite yet. He lays on top of you panting heavily and in deep thought.

He could keep you? Yeah, he’ll keep you. He could post the video? No, that’s for him to watch and show you when you piss him off.

He’s going to make your life hell from now on until you learn to love him.

“Say you love me.”

“I love you.”

#yandere miya atsumu #yandere atsumu #yandere haikyuu #atsumu smut #astumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #this boy still haunts my nightmares and its been years #guess its kinda funny now tho #fearing for my life in the presence of a man...#he could've at LEAST been attractive #but I'll spare you all the details

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bunny-hoodlum · 3 years

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Smutty NH WIP hot'n'ready! Here, have a slice!

with my hands behind my back

for Naruto Smut Mondays October Prompt: Bound

There's something so cathartic about surrender.

She hovers outside the building, staring up at the studio corner on the third floor. Her heart is racing, but this time it's with conviction. She looked this place up seven months ago, but now she was finally going to go inside.

Pushing through the front door, she laid eyes on the woman manning the front desk.

A dark mauve ponytail and a gold snake ring wrapped around her middle finger; She was slouched in her office chair, cheek resting against the back of her wrist, while she tapped away at her phone with her other hand. Digitized explosions and battle cries emitted from her device.

As Hinata drew closer, she eyed the way the woman dressed. Nothing but an overcoat and a sheer mesh leotard, with black X-shaped pasties underneath. She also had a neck tattoo; three black tomoe arranged in a circular pattern like tadpoles dancing in a whirlpool.

Bored brown eyes lifted to meet hers as the woman paused her game. Wordlessly she pushed the sign-in book forward.

Hinata nodded and picked up the pen, scrawling her initials, level of expertise and purpose of her visit in perfect hooks and dashes, then pushed the book back in her direction.

The woman glanced at her entry, then directed her to a row of three chairs in the adjacent hallway. "Go over there. One of our trainers will come down to meet you." With a tap, the digital ruckus continued.

With hands flat against her lap, she bowed and hurried over to the middle seat. Anticipation had fully seized her now. She was really going to go through with this.

She closed her eyes and settled into a daydream, as though arranging her expectations like cards in a poker deck.

First, they were going to ask her some questions.

Then, they were going to take a walk across the street to get better acquainted.

After that, if enough chemistry has been established, it was time to come back and take her first lesson.

At least, that's what the website had described.

She opened her eyes to the approach of footsteps.

He had to be real, because even she would've never dreamt him up.

Tousled, cropped blond hair. Tawny, sun-kissed skin, like a latte with extra milk. Blue eyes as alive and inviting as the clear midday sky. His build was angular and athletic; in a word, reliable. The cotton white polo and black chinos emphasized that to a distracting level. And when he smiled, he had a boyish vibrancy that lit up the hallway with sunbeams.

She sprouted up from her seat to exchange bows, and instantly she felt herself shrinking beneath the intensity of his shine.

She tucked her hair behind her ears more than necessary as he peered over the sign-in sheet.

Pleased with the information, he grinned and nodded to himself. "Alright," he beckoned her to walk with him. "Let's go in this room right over here."

"Ah, uh, y-yes!" Her mary-janes clabbered noisily against the polished linoleum.

~~~

She found herself in what looked like a simple staff room, equipped with TV, chairs, and a mini kitchen for tea, coffee or instant ramen.

They took a seat at the lone dining table in the corner near the door.

This almost felt like a job interview.

The young man pulled out a couple sheets of paper from his binder. They appeared to be questionnaires.

"I just want you to know that your privacy is sacred," he began, and she wondered how long she would have to be able to listen to his voice, to that gorgeous honeyed rasp. It was so cute. "If you'd prefer to go by a nickname, that's fine. I'm Uzumaki Naruto. And that's my real name. I train at every level of Kinbaku. Usually, I'm retained for the entire process but at a higher fee. If you would like exclusive attention, you have that option."

Her cheeks puffed pink at the very suggestion.

"Uh, um…" her hands drew up to hover at her sternum. Much to her chagrin, her lips would not stop their smiling squirm. "I-It's okay if you c-call me Hinata."

"First name basis?"

She nodded vehemently, and his grin bloomed wide open. He was going to blind someone one of these days.

"I'm honored. Well, then, you can call me Naruto."

She nodded again, and he proceeded with the questions.

"So, Hinata-san… What is it that you like about rope?"

"Well, I like its versatility. The number of positions one can experience are only bound by the limits of their imagination."

His smile broadened as he nodded. He seemed to like that answer.

She continued. "The personalization of one's bindings is also an endearing quality. So intimate."

"Do you pick your own rope?"

"Mm. I mostly opt for bamboo silk, as I'm still saving up for a bundle of jute. I've watched tutorials on how to prepare the jute; burn the frayed ends, applying horse oil to one's preferences. It may take me some time to figure out what feels good to me."

"Well, we've got plenty of jute here if you're willing to try. How have you experimented with bamboo silk?"

She ducked down to hide her embarrassment, vulnerability nearly peaking. She noticed how her nervous gesture resembled exactly what she needed to answer, and she did so by lifting up her hands with her wrists pressed together.

"And what was that like?"

She lowered her hands back down.

"Nice at first. But then… nothing."

"Nothing?"

"How to say it… I didn't know where to go from there. Even putting it behind my back and laying on my bed did nothing for me. I also tried… rigging the rope around my wire headboard, but I still felt so silly."

"Do you masturbate?"

A panicked laugh flew from her mouth as heat exploded from her ears. "I-I-I--"

"Hmm?"

"I k-keep a vibrator under my p-pillow."

"And what do you think about when you're using the vibrator?"

She peeked up from beneath her lashes. His professionalism was impeccable. She wasn't sure whether to be grateful or miffed.

"I think the next time I use it, I'll be thinking about you."

Silence stretched on before her words returned to her ears and her face morphed into pinkened horror. Humiliation built up like the steam inside a kettle, and she made an ungodly shrill as she covered her face.

She couldn't get the image of his bemused half-smile out of her mind. Like she had just admitted to practice kissing with her pillow or something else equally immature.

God, she was an idiot.

"I'm happy to hear that," He said, not sounding even the slightest bit aroused. "If it helps, use that next time. I think the problem you may be having is getting in touch with your body. See, the thing is, I can't recommend tying you up until you're in a better place."

"A better place?" Did she sound that off-kilter to him? Since when did this become a judgment of her fitness?

"Emotionally. Mentally. What I mean is, if self-binding doesn't feel sexy to you for very long, then something's wrong. Your inability to stay immersed in the sensations. You can't be tied up with a half-assed attitude or it'll you fuck you up worse."

"Oh." She was a little taken aback by the slip in his demeanor. Did he normally talk like that? And also was he turning her away? Was she five years too early to dive into her kinks or something? What was the deal?

"But if you'd like, I can instruct you on some basic knots and hishi patterns that you can do yourself. We have dummies, or we can have another trainer volunteer. This can be your first lesson."

She hesitated before finally nodding.

It couldn't be helped that her body wasn't in alignment with her deepest desires.

It looked like she had more training ahead of her than she thought.

"Let's grab something to eat. Do you like ramen?"

~~~

They found a midnight ramen stall at the end of a narrow back alley a few blocks from the Konoha Kinbaku-bi training facility.

"This is the main reason I've got the night shift," he chuckles, his professionalism falling away like maché, revealing the humanity underneath. "This is my favorite ramen shop and they only open at midnight," he lifted the noren curtains, giving her passage inside.

"Welcome!" greeted the young woman manning the counter.

"'Sup, Ayame! How's the old man?"

"Uff. Same as always! He keeps pushing me to give up on the shop now that he's retired, but it's in my blood."

"Whaaaat? He knows your guys' ramen is the best ever! He's just gonna take that away from me?! I'm like your number one customer!"

"I know! I keep telling him! I tell him 'I won't be responsible for Naruto's tears if we close down the Ichiraku!'"

"To hell with my tears! I might just starve to death!"

He and Ayame broke out into peals of laughter, and it helped Hinata settle into a relaxed mood.

They gave Ayame their orders, to which she cheerfully sang, "Coming right up!"

And while Ayame did her thing, Naruto's attention was all hers again.

"You in Uni?"

"Mmhm."

"What's your major?"

"Um," Hinata lifted up two fingers.

"Huh? Oh, double major?" He whistled at that.

"Arts in Design Management and Small Business Management."

"Damn, you must be really smart. And hardworking. That's really amazing, Hinata."

"Nobody says that about the arts," she shrank bashfully. "Or business."

"Anyone with a goal in mind is super smart. You must be planning to oversee talent or something, am I correct?"

"Mm. More or less, but, I'm still not entirely sure. It's all fine education for running a marketing firm, or being in charge of the creative process. I think I'm just more suited to the supporting role."

His eyes were on her. Boring into her.

"Were you an art major?"

"I wasn't very good."

"What did you do?"

"I wanted to paint."

"Really?"

"It's hard to be a painter. You have to be good at drawing before you can be okay at painting."

"But why weren't you good at it?"

"I notice details too well? There's something called 'overworking the canvas', and if you've done that, you've murdered it for good. Plus, it also meant that my productivity was the lowest amongst the class. Try way too hard to perfect a single leaf, that I can't show anyone the forest in my mind," she looked at him and was enamored by his rapt interest. To think that his kindness in uniform was just as genuine as when he stepped out of it. "Do you struggle with plans, Naruto-san?"

"Yeah--"

"You bet he does!" Ayame interjected, placing their bowls in front of them. "Soon as he starts one thing, he does something else!"

"So how did you get into…" Hinata glanced at Ayame, unsure if their closeness went as far as knowing what he did for a living. "... What you do now?"

Naruto split his chopsticks apart and dug into his meal with the gusto of a starving man. Maybe he was starving like he said. Does he really not eat anything but this specific ramen?

With a satisfied belch, he sighed and leaned back.

"Being a rope top is my hobby. I don't have to think about what I'm going to do with it. I just show up to work and do what I'm good at."

#I'm just so fuckin antsy that I wanted to share this with you guyyyyys #naruhina fanfiction #naruhina #fanfiction wip

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thero0ks · 4 years

Text

505 NSFW!

Do not read if you are under 18 NSFW!

SMUT AHEAD!

Jean catches the next flight home to surprise the reader. Smut ensues.

Jean took the next available flight home. Romantic notions were pushed to the back of his mind by the need pooling within him. Only being gone a week felt like an eternity. Long fingers ran through his ashy hair, as his leg bounced hearing various boarding announcements. Checking his watch for the fifteenth time since he sat down the minutes seemed to drag on. A notification dinged on his phone. Digging it out of his pocket his eyes flickered to the Snapchat notification.

One unopened snap from Angel <3

Jean tapped the red box opening the image. Muscles froze at the pornographic picture. The only thing covering her body was a pair of lace panties, and black thigh highs that accentuated her supple thighs. The screenshot Jean took was automatic. Swallowing, his eyes flickered around the boarding area. The thought to check his surroundings before opening the image never crossed his mind. Relaxing he noticed no one sat near him, and the image had remained for his eyes only. Taking another peak at the photo he had to suppress a groan. It’d been too long since he’d traced her skin in the dark, and felt her between the sheets. She had no idea he was coming home early. Taking pleasure in teasing him when he was hundreds of miles away. Jean couldn’t deny he enjoyed her naughty antics, and the prospect of finally punishing her for her little games was driving him wild.

Jean swiped open the chat. Thumbs working quickly to type out the message: you naughty girl.

Turning his phone on silent he gathered his things for boarding. Handing over his boarding pass the flight attendant raked over his figure with her gaze. Jean managed a half smile of acknowledgment heading down the boarding bridge as soon as she handed over his ticket. Leather felt cool against his back as he settled into his seat. Pulling out his phone to switch it to airplane mode he found a picture in response to his text. Her index finger was in her mouth, her other arm wrapped around her breasts giving a perfect view of her cleavage.

He almost missed the small text at the bottom of the picture that read: I miss you Jean boy :(

Another screenshot and he was turning his phone on airplane mode. The buckle of the airplane seat clanked as he latched it. Leaning his head back against the seat he closed his eyes. He was only a two hour flight away from her. Nine o’clock and he’d have his arms around her.

Another stranger sat next to him on another flight. Digging out his headphones and Nintendo Switch he tried to pull his thoughts away from what would transpire tonight. The images he’d received this evening allowed him to think of little else.

His skin was hot, and his tie felt constricting. Fingers loosened the knot, unbuttoning the top two buttons of the ironed button down. He couldn’t get that damn image out of his mind. Pausing his game he rubbed his temples. Dirty scenes playing in his mind.

Small hands slipping between her thighs, soft sighs escaping her painted lips. Fingers dancing over her pussy as her back arched into the pleasure.

Jean snapped out of his daydream adjusting quickly in his seat to hide the erection he’d just created for himself. Laying the Switch in his lap he unpaused the game, determined to make it the rest of the flight without another slip up.

The parking garage was empty as he walked to his car. Popping the trunk he threw his suitcase in the back. Taking more care to place his leather messenger bag in his passenger seat. Lights on the dash lit up as he put the key in the ignition.

The forty minute drive home seemed to blur by with the passing headlights. A soft light came from his apartment floor as he parked his car. Gathering his things he trudged up the concrete steps. Keys jingled as he unlocked the front door.

The apartment was quiet when he walked through the door. Taking care to set his bags down he locked the door behind him. Kicking his shoes off he found the bedroom door was cracked, red LED lights casting a glow on the carpet. A low hum could be heard from the bedroom, and Jean recognized the sound instantly. Electricity seemed to spark under his skin as he leaned against the doorway pleased with sight before him.

The filthy images his mind had conjured didn’t compare to this. The soft mewls that escaped her lips, one hand on her breast as the other teased her slick folds with a vibrator. Enraptured in the thralls of pleasure she hadn’t even noticed him there. Her back arched grinding closer to the toy. Jean bit his bottom lip observing her touch herself. A vivid image he would save for future trips when she casually mentioned she’d gotten off earlier during their facetime conversations. He knew exactly what that entailed now.

“Jean!” She gasped, a flustered look coming over her face.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Jean said, pushing himself off the doorway. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he placed his hand on her’s, guiding the vibrator back to her clit. Hips bucked at the sudden stimulation when the toy made contact with her pussy. Jean guiding her hand through swirling motions. Leaning over her he captured her lips in a deep kiss.

“I’m gonna make you feel good angel,” Jean promised. Switching the vibrator to a higher setting he felt her nails digging into his forearm. His name falling from her lips in a desperate plea. He heard something about cumming between sharp breaths.

“Oh baby, you’re going to cum as many times as I want.” Honey eyes watched an orgasm shake her body. Switching off the vibrator he set it aside. Stripping himself of his jacket, shirt, and tie he watched her settle down from her high. Climbing over her he enveloped her in another kiss. The kisses were slow and deep as he swirled his tongue around her’s. His thumb stroked her jaw as he buried his other hand in her hair, gripping at her roots. Soft hands trailed up his stomach and lower back. Eagerly exploring the expanse of his skin.

Breaking the kiss Jean’s eyes took in her curves. She looked divine underneath him, and he realized the pictures she sent were nothing compared to her under his gaze. Fidgeting underneath him a smirk pulled at his lips. He loved when she was needy, grinding against nothing but air. She looked fuckable, and he couldn’t resist slipping his middle finger into her soaked entrance. Rubbing tiny circles, just enough to get her excited.

“Jean,” she moaned tugging at the locks on the nape of his neck. Desperate for more. Needy moans made his dick twitch, and he was painfully hard looking at her so soft, and fuckable on their bed. All he wanted to do was sink into her, but he also wanted her to cum until she was a sobbing mess.

He slipped his index finger into her, the added finger making her feel full. Hooking his fingers he started rubbing her g-spot. The sharp inhale he solicited from her had him smirking. Hitting her sweet spot she felt the pressure building. Her juices coated his hand and dripped down his forearm. She was a beautiful mess as she gripped the sheets desperate for some purchase against the pleasure Jean was pulling from her.

Jean leaned over capturing her nipple in his mouth. With a sharp gasp she had her fingers buried in his hair. He knew her most sensitive parts, and loved hearing the breathy moans that escaped her lips. Swirling his tongue around her nipple, his hand played with her other breast. Toying with the sensitive bud feeling her grind against his fingers, and tugging at the roots of his hair. His name escaped her lips in a needy whine.

The way she flexed around his fingers knew she was on the edge, and he had half a mind to keep her there. Toying with her, until he deemed it fit for her to come undone.

Withdrawing his fingers he heard her whimper at being pulled away from the edge. “Jean,” she whined, dragging out the last consonant.

“I want to hear you beg baby,” he said, honey eyes locking with hers as he sucked on his fingers that were soaked in her juices.

“Jean please,” her voice came out in a huff, at his demands.

His fine brow rose at her tone. His dick twitching in his pants at the attitude she was starting to show him. “I know you can do better than that,” he said trailing off, dipping his fingers in her slick before retracting them.

Her body jerked at his touch, soliciting a wide grin from the ashy blond. He knew exactly how to leave her a begging mess, and the brattier she got the deeper she’d want him.

“Jean, please.” Impatience coated her tongue as her hand gripped his forearm.

Fingers slipped inside her, and Jean added a third this time. A small gasp escaped her lips, and her back arched into his touch. A soft squelching sound lingered in the air as he rubbed her g-spot soaking the cotton sheets beneath her.

“Is that for me baby?” Jean inquired, feeling her nails dig into his forearm. Nodding her eyes squeezed shut at the pleasure.

Jean gripped her chin, as (e/c) eyes flew up to gaze into his, “use your words angel.”

“Yes Jean,” she panted, as he released her settling between her legs. Propping herself up slightly, eager to see her thighs framing his face. Honey eyes locked on hers as he licked her clit. Hands tugged his hair as a moan escaped her lips. Jean continued fingering her as his mouth wrapped around her clit, playing with the bundle of nerves, and drinking up her essence.

By the way her back was arching, and hips grinding against him he knew she was close. Sweet whimpers escaped her lips. He felt her pulsing against his fingers as she came, her cum dripping down his chin as he tried to lick up everything she was giving him.

Tired muscles relaxed beneath him. Lazy fingers carded through his hair. Bliss was written on her face as he pulled away, wiping his chin with the back of his hand his honey eyes took in her exhausted frame. He watched her slip out of the bed settling between his thighs. (E/C) eyes batted up at him as she popped the button of his jeans open. Widening his hips in anticipation the sound of the zipper seemed to echo in his ears. Warm hands tugged at his jeans, and he lifted his hips to allow her to strip him of his jeans.

Running her hands up his thighs she pressed open mouth kisses across his stomach. Jean leaned back on his elbows to give her better access. Nipping at his hip bones, a smirk appeared on the corners of her mouth. Enjoying the way his body would shudder at the sensation.

“Fuck you’re a tease,” Jean hissed as she sucked a hickey on his lower stomach.

Tension released through his muscles when she finally discarded his boxer briefs and sucked on the head of his dick. Swirling her tongue around the tip the bitter taste of precum hit her tongue. Slowly she started to bob her head.

“You’re a cock tease,” he grunted, soliciting a hum from her that vibrated against his dick. Hands brushed her hair aside to watch her lips wrapped around his cock, pulling him deeper with each bob of her head. Abs flexed under her skilled tongue, and Jean’s mouth watered when her eyes gazed up at him while she lowered her mouth down on him. Cheeks hollowed as she continued to bob her head, eyes locked with his.

“I’m not going to last much longer,” he warned. Fine brows scrunching together, and she released him with audible pop. A smug grin on her face at how fast she’d brought him close to orgasm. Drawing her thumb across her lips Jean wrapped his arms around her pulling her down onto the mattress.

Her back pressed into his chest, as they laid on their sides. Jean’s fingers tracing her exaggerated curves in this position. A large palm gripped her thigh as he slowly slid into her. She couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped her lips, head dropping back against Jean’s shoulder. His cock filled her, and she felt him in every sweet spot. When he bottomed out her pressed a sloppy open mouth kiss to her lips, before he slowly started rocking his hips. Whimpers escaped her lips as he kept the pace.

“Fuck you’re tight for me baby,” Jean grunted into her cheek. His nose rubbing against her temple, occasionally pressing soft kisses to her skin.

The low hum of the vibrator surprised her when Jean pressed it against her clit. “You always feel so good when you’re gripping my cock,” his voice was breathy in her ear.

The coil inside her tightened, and soon she was cumming around his cock. Her grips on the sheets tightened as waves of pleasure shot through her body. A haze filled her brain still drunk on her orgasm as she pulled Jean into a deep kiss.

“Oh you’re not don’t cumming angel,” Jean cooed, switching the vibrator up to a higher speed. “I know you can give me one more.”

Flipping her onto her back he slid back into her pressing the vibrator to her clit. “Mmm...Jean, it’s too much,” she breathed, her body spasming at the stimulation of his dick and the vibrator.

“Baby, I thought you missed my cock.” Jean purred, his hips snapping into her. Setting a brutal pace, eyes mesmerized by the way her pussy sucked him in.

“I do,” her voice was desperate, on the edge of another orgasm. Jean retracted the vibrator, and he watched (e/c) eyes widened. “Jean please!” She cried desperately,

“I thought you were too tired to cum,” Jean reasoned, placing his hand on her lower stomach. Feeling him fill her with each snap of his hips. “You take me so good baby,” Jean’s voice trailed off, hypnotized by her naked body.

Nimble fingers snaked down her body to play with her clit. “Fuck, keep touching yourself.” Jean said, snapping his hips driving into her. Her pussy was soon pulsing around his dick as another orgasm washed through her.

Fucking her through her orgasm, he finally allowed himself to cum. He finally stilled, catching his breath, and he felt gentle fingers brush his hair out of his face. Pulling out he watched his cum leak out of her. Leaning down he gave her a gentle kiss.

“I’ll run a bath,” Jean said, disappearing to the bathroom. The sound of the faucet filling the tub was the only sound in the apartment. Jean pulled out a couple of candles, placing them around the tub, before adding some fragrant bath soap.

Jean carried her bridal style to the bathroom. The hot water felt good against her tired muscles. Leaning forward, she Gave Jean enough room to slip in behind her. Resting her back against his chest, she closed her eyes relaxing into his body.

“I’m happy you’re home,” she hummed, as Jean gently massaged her scalp. Pressing a light kiss to her temple he let a comfortable silence fall over them.

Jean tried to think of the best way to break the news as they sat in the tub. They didn’t get out until the water started to grow cold. Handing her a towel, he slipped on a pair of boxer briefs, and watched her apply lotion to her body.

“Y/N?” Jean spoke softly. He watched her (e/c) eyes flicker to him full of adoration. Rubbing the rest of the lotion onto her forearms she made her way over to him. Crawling into bed, she rested her head on his chest.

“What is it Jean?”

“I have to leave in a couple days,” he murmured. Running his hand down her soft skin. He knew how much she hated him being gone, but she did her best to stay supportive.

“Oh,” she breathed, surprised at his sudden revelation. Disappointment filled her at the realization that Jean would be leaving soon. “How long this time?”

“A week.” Jean said, a long sigh escaping his lips.

There was no point in lingering on the fact that Jean would be leaving in a few days. Y/N grabbed her phone sitting up, “well let’s order takeout.” She suggested, finding their favorite local Chinese restaurant. “We can eat, put on a movie, and cuddle.”

Jean smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips. “That sounds perfect,” he said, grabbing her laptop he put on Legally Blonde while she finished ordering takeout. Snuggling up to his side to settle in for the rest of the night.

#jean kirstein x you #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschtien #jean kirschtein x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #jean kirstein

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 3 years

Text

13 Going on 30 pt.1

A Peter Maximoff x reader fanfiction based off the movie 13 going on 30.

Summary: You are so excited when the most popular girl in your school agrees to come to your 13th birthday party. But after a cruel prank you find yourself wishing that you were popular and older. By some miracle your wish is granted but isn’t as wonderful as it seems. You turn out to be a major jerk and you don't even talk to your best friend Peter anymore. Can you fix everything and get back to normal or are you stuck living like this forever

Warnings: Angst and some suggestive content. But it’s mostly pure fluff. (Also peter has no powers in this and some scenes will be changed to better fit Peter and so I can be creative with it!)

Word Count: 2759

I am so excited to share this fic with y’all! 13 going on 30 is one of my favorite comfort movies and I thought that adding Peter Maximoff to it would make it even better.

It was 1987 and your birthday party was next week. You were so excited you could barely contain yourself. You were turning 13, you were finally becoming a teenager. It was time to abandon all childish things and live a life of adventure and romance. One that all the movies told you was guaranteed once you became a teenager. You were writing in your notebook during lunch checking off the things you had already gotten for your birthday party. “Balloons, check. Party favors, check. The cutest outfit, check!”

“Your best friend in the whole world who is getting you the best present. Check!” Peter added as he sat down across from you, dropping his lunch tray down on the table. You just rolled our eyes at him.“So I was thinking for this year we should go to the arcade then get ice cream.” Peter muttered his mouth full of the school’s signature sloppy joe sandwich. “Cause if I eat too much ice cream before we play that dance game you love, I'm gonna get sick again.” Some of the sandwich meat dripped out of the corner of his mouth. You handed him a napkin to wipe it, not even disgusted at this point.

You and Peter had been best friends since birth. You had lived right next to each other as kids and you had done everything together. Learning how to walk, the loss of your first tooth, the first day of school. Always together no matter what. That’s what made you so nervous to tell him what was on your mind. “Actually, I was thinking of having a party this year.” You gave him a nervous smile.

“What?!” He choked out in the midst of a coughing fit having nearly choked on his milk. Kids turned around to look at him and you shushed him. ”Peter stop shouting.” You scolded through gritted teeth.

He spoke up again this time, his voice back to it’s normal level. “But it’s always just us.”

You winced, you had figured he was going to respond like this. “I know, I know. But hear me out.” Peter sat back in his chair, arms crossed. “Lucy said she’d come to the party this year, and she’d bring Dylan! You know how much I like him.” You gushed and Peter narrowed his eyes at you.

“How did you convince the most popular girl in school to come to your party?”

“Way harsh peter.” You reached over to his tray attempting to steal one of his fries. His hand slapped yours away. “You make it sound like she doesn't even know I exist.”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, you and I are at the bottom of the social food chain and you know it.” He pushed his chair back even further, now only balancing on two legs. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” You defended.

He held your gaze with narrowed eyes as you tired your best to maintain eye contact. The minute you looked away he knew he had you. “I know you're lying (y/n). When you can’t look me in the eye you’re hiding something. Spill it.”

You muttered really quickly. “Imayormaynothavedoneherhomeworkforthepastmonth.”

He gave you an exasperated look. “What?”

“I said I may or may not have done her homework for the past month.”

He gave you a disapproving look. “Don’t look at me like that. “ You pouted. “It was the only way she was going to bring Dylan.”

“I don't even know why you want that guy at your party. Or Lucy for that matter. They’re all a bunch of jerks.” Peter got up to put his tray away. You shoved your notebook back into your bag and got up to follow him.

“You don’t even know them Peter.”

“Neither do you.” You frowned at him before turning on your heel and walking away from him. “(y/n) wait.” You sped up and he sped up with you. He caught up to you and grabbed your arm. You refused to look at him.

Peter’s harsh look softened and his grip on your arm loosed. “Look.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “ I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

You gave him a soft smile. “I won’t especially not with my best friend around.” You bumped your shoulder into his. He returned your smile after a while and your face lit up. “It’s going to be fun!”

“If you say so.”

On the day of your party you couldn't even sit still for a single second. Pacing by the front door waiting for Lucy and her friends to arrive. The doorbell rang and you threw open the door, but your smile dropped when you saw it was just Peter. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Geez, it's good to see you too.” He pushed his way into your house as you closed the door behind him.

“Sorry I just thought it was Lucy.”

“And you were disappointed when it was me.” He joked making himself at home on your couch.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“No, I get it. Suddenly you get new friends and I’m old news. Hung out to dry. Dead and buried without a moment to grieve.” He milked his performance trying to make you feel guilty. You sat down next to him knocking his feet off your mother’s coffee table.

“Shut up.” You laughed, he watched you and smiled. You noticed the keyboard strapped to his chest and groaned. “Did you have to bring your keyboard?”

“Duh. It’s part of your gift.”

“I hope that’s not all you got me.”

“Hey!” He mocked being hurt by your words. “And it’s not by the way.” He sat up and made his way to your front door. “I gotta go get it, I left it on your doorstep.” He opened the door and was gone for a minute, making you anxious with anticipation. He poked his head through the doorway and a sweet smile plastered on his lips. “Close your eyes.”

You quickly covered your eyes with your hands. You heard Peter’s sneakers shuffling as he made his way closer to you. “No peeking.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you are, I can see you looking through the slits of your fingers.” You giggled at the accusation and squeezed your eyes even tighter. You felt the couch dip from his weight as he sat back down next to you. You feel his hands close around yours, and the small action making you blush. He carefully removed your hands from your eyes. “Ta-da!”

Sitting on the coffee table front of you was a huge handmade pink doll house. “I decided to make you your own (y/n) dream house.” Your eyes widened taking it all in. It was beautiful.

“Petey did you make all this?” You asked, heart swelling at the sweet action.

“Yeah,” He admitted a little embarrassed. He scooted closer to the table. “See that’s you in your bubble bath. Reading your favorite magazine” It was a Barbie doll with a picture of your face tape on it. You giggled.” And there’s your room with the giant closet you’ve always wanted and a huge stereo collection. I know how much you love music. And there’s that bum Rick Springfield, sitting on the couch.” As you took in all the details you fell even more in love with the house. Peter had put so much time into this and you adored it.

“And uh, there’s me.” He smiled sheepishly. A picture of him was glued to a piece of cardboard. His picture was making that ‘I’m watching you’ gesture at Rick Springfield. “I’m making sure that creep keeps his hands to himself. He’s only here for his musical talents, nothing else.” You smiled at him. He smiled back and for a second you could have sworn he glanced down at your lips. “Oh! I almost forgot.” He pulled out a red packet and shook it lightly. “Wishing dust.”

You scooted closer to him so you guys could read the package together. “It says wishing dust knows what’s in your heart of hearts. They’ll make all your dreams come true.” He whispered the last part, his eyes cast downward as you watched him rip open the package. He stood up and sprinkled the dust down on the house. You watched in wonder as all the different colors rained down together and decorated the whole house in a pretty shimmer. Your eyes met his and you could feel yourself tearing up. He was so sweet and he didn't even know how much this meant to you.

Just then the doorbell rang and you jumped to your feet. “They’re here!” You wiped away the tears that threatened to fall really quickly before dashing to the door.

“Yay.” Peter cheered sarcastically. You ignored him and sprinted to open the door. Lucy was there along with her friends and Dylan in the back. She was wearing a neon pink dress, the same one you had begged your mom to buy you last week. She had said no obviously.

“Hi Lucy! Thanks for coming!” She just gave you a tight smile and let herself in. She looked around your living room and a sneer made its way to her face when she saw Peter on your couch fiddling with his keyboard.

“Sup Freak.” Lucy shot Peter a sickly sweet smile.

“Sup slut.” Peter replied, mirroring her smile. You felt your mouth open in shock and shot him a deadly look. Lucy just pressed on trying to get a reaction out of Peter.

“I see your hair is still as gray and as ugly as ever.”

“At least my hair is naturally this color. From the look of your roots you should really look into getting a better stylist. You ain’t fooling anybody honey.”

They continued to glare at each other until Lucy finally broke away from his gaze and turned to face you. “Where is this party happening anyway.”

“It’s um downstairs, in the basement.” You motioned towards it, Lucy and her friends made their way down the steps. Peter followed them carrying your dollhouse, but you held your arm out to stop him. “What was that? Why were you being such a jerk?”

“She started it!”

You huffed. “I know, but it’s my party so please try to be nice to her.” He opened his mouth to say something but then decided against it. He pushed past your arm and went down the stairs to the basement. Taking two at a time.

“So this is it.” Lucy picked at the neon colored table cloth. You didn't know what to say as she looked around. “What are we going to do anyway?”

“Well we could play twister, Peter is really good at it.” Peter gave a small salute in acknowledgement as they glanced towards him. “Or we could watch a movie.”’ You said excitedly, making your way over to the VHS rack.” I have a lot of good ones.``

“Lame.” Lucy announced and her friends echoed in agreement.

You felt embarrassed of thinking that they would enjoy such childish things. “Why don't we play a new game?” Lucy suggested.

“What kind of game?” Peter asked, suspicion laced in his tone.

“A fun one.” She made her way towards you and placed her hand on your shoulder as she turned to address Peter. “Not that you would know anything about fun Maximoff.”

“Not that you would know anything about fun.” Peter mocked back in a high pitched tone.

“Real mature.” Peter stuck his tongue out at her.

She turned back to you. “Let’s play seven minutes in heaven.” She leaned in even closer. “You can go first (y/n), and I think you’ll like who you get.” She glanced back and you followed her gaze towards Dylan. He shot you a smile and you felt yourself blush.

All of a sudden you heard your mom. “(y/n)!” Your mother yelled down the stairs. “Your cake is here come and get it!”

“Peter go get it.” Lucy commanded.

“What? No.” He scoffed. You met his gaze and shot him a pleading look. “Fine.” He put the dollhouse away in your closet on the top shelf and made his way to the stairs. “Thanks Petey.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Lucy took off her scarf from around her neck and placed it over your eyes, knotting it tightly in the back. She led you towards the closet and you felt your heart rate pick up. You could hear the giggles of her friends as they closed the door. You stood there in the darkness waiting for Dylan to come in. It had been a while since Lucy had led you to the closet, you sat down putting your arms around your knees hugging them close.

Peter came back down the stairs carrying your cake, as he was coming down Lucy was going up the stairs, her friends trailing behind her. “Hey where are you going?”

She didn't answer, just smiled at him placing a hand on his shoulder. “(y/n) is waiting for you in the closet.” He gave her a confused look, he didn't know he was part of this game. Lucy and her friends continued up the steps, Dylan swiped your cake with his finger smearing the icing and eating it. Peter yanked it away and continued down into the basement. Madonna was playing softly in the background, he put the cake on the table and made his way to the closet, opening the door. He saw you sitting there on the floor, you upon hearing the door squeak open were smiling up at him. “I didn't think you were going to come.”

He nervously smiled back at you and sat down on the floor across from you. You reached your hands out towards him. “Where are you?” He let his hands find yours, fingers intertwined in one another. He had held your hand before but this time it felt so different. He saw you lean in and he did the same. He was inches away from your lips when you whispered. “Oh Dylan.” He pulled back abruptly.

“It’s not Dylan, It’s Peter.” You yanked your hands away from his and tore the scarf away from your eyes.

“What are you doing here?” You felt panic take over you. “Where is Dylan?”

“He left. They all did, no one is here.” You stood up and saw that Peter was right. Your snack table stood untouched and Lucy, and Dylan were no where to be found. You immediately turned on Peter. “What did you do?”

Peter looked at you in disbelief. “Nothing!”

“Yes you did!” You were screaming at him at this point.

“I just went to get your cake!” He screamed back.

“Get out.” you whispered. Peter looked at you, clearly hurt that you were pushing him away. “GET OUT!” You screamed as you pushed him out of the closet.

“(y/n) wait!” He tried holding the door open as you desperately tried shutting it. “(y/n) let me talk to you!”

“Peter stop.” You cried.

“(y/n)-”

“No!” You managed to shut the door and lock it. You sat back down on the floor and put the blindfold back over your eyes.

“(y/n) Please!” You could hear Peter on the other side of the door even with your hands covering your ears. “Please come out!”

“I hate you!” You screamed as his voice stopped.

“You don’t mean that.” He muttered, tears of his own threatening to spill.

“Yes I do! I hate you! I hate me! I hate everything!” You were so angry and embarrassed and that you really thought Lucy was your friend. And that you were going to get to kiss Dylan.

“(y/n) what are you talking about?”

“I want to be thirty!” You wailed through your tears.

“Just let me play you this song.” Peter yelled back. He slung his keyboard over his head and started to mess with it trying to find the right key. “It’ll make you feel better!”

You ignored him continuing to cry. “I wanna be thirty! I wanna be thirty and flirty and thriving.” You swing your head back shaking the shelf behind you. The wishing dust from the dollhouse fell down all around you but you didn't even notice. You could faintly hear Peter playing some tune on his keyboard but you ignored it. Just muttering through your tears over and over how you wanted to be thirty, flirty and thriving. At the moment you wanted to be anywhere but there.

#quicksilver xmen #quicksilver xmen x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #xmen fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel fanfiction #13 going on 30 #13 going on 30 au

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ellsbclls · 3 years

Text

The Fire Escape

warnings ➛ A couple of swear words here and there, mentions of death, endgame spoilers, and a dash of far from home erasure.

word count ➛ 4.7K

synopsis ➛ After the events of End Game, Peter Parker takes a break from his crime fighting persona, but when Spider-Man is called to a mission in Sokovia, he realizes that you might not be ready to handle the life of an Avenger’s girlfriend. There’s a little bit of angst, but not enough to keep you up at night.

“Y/N… Earth to Y/N.”

Peter ropes you back to reality with a light squeeze of your hand, a simple gesture that you return two-fold. On normal dates, the competition would ignite almost immediately, squeezing each other’s hands back and forth, under varying degrees of pressure, until one of you cried uncle — but this is far from a normal date.

It had started innocently enough. Peter had begged Dr.Banner to let him leave his “internship” an hour early just so he could surprise you at work. You assumed — after some superb groveling on Peter’s part — that Bruce agreed, because the end of your shift was met with a parchment wrapped dozen of blushing roses, accompanied by your equally blushing boyfriend. The two of you were able to snag one of the emptier carts on the N train, and were accompanied by a small Greek woman who sent a warm smile when you nestled your head into Peter’s shoulder. The smile disappeared as soon as he started using the poles as his personal jungle gym, but your laugh made up for its loss as he offered his hand out, begging you to join him with a Gene Kelly-esque flair. He ushered you into one of your favorite ramen places during your stroll down Ditmars, pulling out your chair when you were given a table, pretending not to notice how you snuck a noodle or two from his bowl when he wasn’t looking. Your heart felt so warm, you’re surprised it didn’t melt.

So why does everything seem so off now? You and Peter are walking side by side down 37th avenue, he’s rambling excitedly about some new enhancement he made to his web slingers, the evening breeze is kissing your cheeks as it waltzes around the autumn foliage, and somehow, you feel like you’re in the eye of a hurricane.

“Where’d you go?” Peter tries to reel you back in once more and succeeds, craning his head to meet your gaze.

“Oh, just a quick jog.” you tease. There’s a thin edge underlying your sarcasm, and you wonder if he can hear it, too. You’re only a block away from your apartment, and the tiny voice in the back of your mind rationalizes that nothing could ruin your impromptu date night if you were tucked away in your home — because you always feel safe when you’re home. Yet, with no solid evidence to confirm or deny the thought, you’re in a race with the block to dig through your purse.

“Oh, well don’t forget to warm up.” he teases back. His caramel hues, once alight with a mirthful glint, start to descend into an uneasy resolve that only confirms your suspicions, but you’re too occupied by the whereabouts of your keys to notice. “Speaking of warm up, actually, there’s something I have to ask you.”

“Shoot.” you reply offhandedly.

“Well, I- I don’t know how to say this.” The tremor in his voice is subtle, but just present enough to pull you from your search. “There’s- uh- there’s something going on in Sokovia, or at least what’s left of it. There’s a lot of feedback coming off the maps, like a… a hotplate of cosmic activity, so Captain wants the entire team there.”

There it is — that dark cloud that hung over your head this evening finally drenches you in a sharp, cold blanket of realization. Your heart stops, aches, and then crumbles to the pit of your stomach, waiting to be washed away by the waves of terror that crash upon your airways, and despite the wash cycle of emotions you’ve just endured, you feel far from clean. In fact, everything feels heavy — from the weight of your heart to your ragged breath — paralyzed by the idea that each thump, each exhale, brings you closer to the moment where Peter has to leave.

You started dating a year and a half ago, and two years have passed since half of the population was restored to its rightful plane of existence. Iron Man’s death left a massive hole in Peter’s morale, as well as a nagging doubt that he would never be able to take on the mantle he was left with. So, for the first time since he was bitten by that radioactive spider, he cowered in the face of adversity. Not only had he lost a mentor, he had lost his friend — and when Tony Stark sacrificed his life, he was under the impression that the heroes he saved would continue to protect the world, but sometimes Peter wonders if that still reigns true. If Mr.Stark knew just how easily the team had crumbled, how easily he had crumbled, would he still leave? Three and a half years later and Peter still can’t find the answer.

Meanwhile, when it seemed like the world needed him most, Spiderman slipped into obscurity. Now he only makes an appearance when the newscast is a little too bleak to ignore, and even then, he usually sticks to the rogue bank heist or back alley mugging.

You try not to pry, knowing that each time you ask about his brief hiatus is like poking an open wound, and, albeit selfishly, you relish in the fact that your boyfriend isn’t throwing himself in harm's way. However, now seems like a better time than ever for an interrogation, seeing as this is not only the first Avengers mission he’s attended in your relationship, but the first mission to ever span past the Hudson.

No obstacle prior has conjured a looming sense of dread and anxiety as palpable as the one you’re toting now. You can already feel it bubbling in your chest, like a cauldron of endless toils, expelling a hazy fog that makes your head spin.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t give out on me now.” You don’t realize that your knees buckled beneath you until Peter comes to your rescue, and you silently wish that all of his heroic excursions could be this simple. The warmth of his hand bleeds past your winter coat and business casual blouse as it settles against the small of your back, and your body betrays you as it melts into his touch. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m actually not CPR certified.”

“I- I’m sorry.” Your mouth is bone dry, and you can barely muster a laugh convincing enough to counter his attempt at humor, so you don’t. You opt on settling your gaze upon the entrance of your building, just over Peter’s shoulder, and trying to ground yourself enough to stand without his help.

Peter’s hand still lingers on your form when you shuffle away from him, moving from the small of your back to the curve of your elbow. He can tell that you’re shaken, he expected that much from the get go, so he doesn’t leave your side, encroaching on the space you so obviously seek.

“I don’t know- I don’t…” You muster just enough courage to counter his gaze, and a tiny frown creases between your brows, confusion riddling every other feature. “What exactly are you asking me?”

He pauses, searching for the answer himself. “Well, I guess- I just wanna know how you’re feeling.”

You chalk it up to your sudden sense of irritability, but his question just pisses you off. How dare he throw out a semblance of hope, a faulty impression, that you’d have any choice in this matter. You climb the three steps up to the front door, dolled up in dismay, and still try to find purchase in the illusion that you have any control in the matter. Maybe that’s what pushes you over the deep end, your once honeyed voice now curdled by venom — the hopelessness of it all. “Oh, I’m fine! I’m amazing, Peter. After the way you buttered me up all evening, how could I possibly be upset?”

“Y/N, that’s not fair-” Peter’s visibly taken aback, his features mimicking your own. You can see the cogs turning in his head, formulating some way to diffuse this situation before it really begins, but now that the gates are opened, it’s too late for you to hold anything back.

“Why not? Cause it’s the truth?” You cut him off, freshly manicured nails digging into your palms in an attempt to keep your tone even. “Let me tell you what’s not fair — You don’t even know how long you’re gonna be gone, do you?”

You’re met with a mutual silence, which confirms just how equally unaware you both are.

“Exactly.” At this point, your nerves are getting the best of you. Whether you lay all of your feelings out to him tonight or not, a sickening thought will remain — Peter is going to leave, and there’s a chance he won’t come back. So you persist, your hues boring into his own with each word. “You don’t know what it’s like to sit in our bed and wonder if you’re gonna be in it the next morning. You don’t know how terrifying it is to watch the news and pray to god that you’re not a part of it. You’re never going to be in my shoes when it comes to all of this, and I pray to god that you never have to be because I never want you to feel this way. That’s what’s not fair.” You wish your voice hadn’t grown weaker with each blow, you wish you could utter your last few thoughts with an unwavering certainty, but you know you can’t — not when a sob threatens to bubble up from the back of your throat. “That you can just decide to swing across the globe and put your life in danger while I sit at home and worry about you, and the worst part is that it only makes me love you more.”

“Y/N, do you think this is easy for me?” he’s never raised his voice at you, especially not like this, but it looks like tonight is a series of firsts for the both of you. “I haven’t been on a mission with the Avengers since high school, since —” Since Mr.Stark died. You know.

It’s not like he didn’t try to say it, he did, but the name just felt so foreign on his tongue. After years of inactivity, the threat of unearthing all those memories, all those bright eyed, bushy tailed endeavors, was almost as bad as remembering that he was gone — or even worse, not remembering them at all. But where could he retreat to now? He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place, forced to choose between the thought of losing Mr.Stark, or the thought of losing you. His thoughts are raw and earnest as he tries to placate the latter. “I don’t want to leave you. It terrifies me to think of all the things that could happen to you while I’m gone —”

“Obviously it doesn’t scare you enough, because you’re still going!” You punch the last two words, as if you’re suddenly trying to talk to him from across the street.

“I don’t have a choice, Y/N! I don’t-”

Your argument skids to a screeching halt, rivaling the groan of the metal door that guards your apartment complex, and with it appears Ms.Nunez — the single mother that lives a floor below you, whose ability to juggle her graveyard shifts at the hospital with her two rambunctious toddlers is almost as impeccable as her timing.

She appears to be in a rush as she skirts past you, but not enough to stop her from sending Peter an all too knowing look — one that screams “what did you do to that poor girl?”, with only the view of your red, puffy eyes and guarded stance to back up her assumption.

And with an opportunity so golden laying at your feet, who are you to ignore it? You catch the door before it hits the frame and slip into the yellowed entryway, barreling up the stairwell before he can question her weighted stare. You leave Peter no choice but to slip past Ms.Nunez in your pursuit, without so much as a goodbye, but a few choice words still sit on the back of his tongue, waiting to be swallowed.

Normally, the five stories of stairs leaves you winded by the third, but you chalk your superhuman stamina up to adrenaline. Luckily for you, you’re able to reach the last flight of stairs as Peter climbs up the first. Unluckily for you, you seem to forget that your boyfriend actually does have superhuman stamina, and you swear to fucking god that he’s flying up the stairwell by the time you shut the door behind you.

The door slams twice more after that, one loud bang to signal Peter’s entrance and one to punctuate it. His voice pierces through the apartment, firm and unyielding. “This conversation isn’t over, Y/N.”

He has no idea where you’ve run off to, ruling out the kitchen once he drapes his jacket over the center island. All he can hear is your voice, muffled behind one of the walls, calling out to him with little emotion to spare. “Oh, yes it is. I’m over it. It’s over.”

“Well, that’s mature.” He mutters under his breath, not expecting you to hear him, let alone respond.

“Oh, I’m so glad you think so!” You chuckle dryly, ”‘Cause your judgment of maturity is oh so rational and not at all fucking batshit.” And he thought he had enhanced hearing.

“You know what? You’re right.” He scoffs, letting the slam of the bathroom door punctuate his final words. “I’m over this, too.”

🕷 🕷 🕷

“Y/N?” Peter calls out, but to no avail. It’s on nights like these where he wishes you weren’t fighting, knowing fully well that you would command him to the bed with a downward pointing finger and the best glare you could muster. You’ve always loved the way his hair curled into soft, chestnut waves, so you didn’t mind weaving through his damp tresses before he went to sleep. You would make up some excuse about how the process helped give his curls definition, and he would always end up way too tired and relaxed to call you out on it.

You’re nowhere to be found, though. Your comforter is still as haphazard as it was this morning, and the kitchen is void of your late night snack ravaging. The only sign of your presence is found in the open window next to you bed, and way the curtains float against the evening breeze, leaving him to ponder your whereabouts at a breakneck speed.

A million visions of paranoia screen through his mind all at once, but he’s quick to dismiss them, oddly familiar with the prospect of losing someone, and all the fretting that comes with it.

And you know better than to wander the streets of the city so late at night — but with all of the venom being spewed throughout the apartment, Peter wouldn’t be surprised if you needed a small reprieve. Even for just a quick trip to the corner market. He’s well aware of the eagle eye you sport in the moonlit streets, as well as the switchblade that sits in the side pocket of your bag, but he knows better than anyone that you have to expect the unexpected in these streets.

He pulls out his phone, ready to shoot you a quick text when the bars of the fire escape let out a metallic groan. Despite your apartment’s... adequate amenities, you’d never had a problem with the fire escape. The finicky oven? Maybe, but never the fire escape.

Even without his spidey senses tingling, he has no choice but to poke his head through the window pane, and to his surprise, he ends up killing two birds with one stone.

“I didn’t know you were out here.” Peter balances on the window sill, crouching in a near feline stance as he surveys your position — bundled between the metal grates of the fire escape and your downy comforter. Your lips are parted in a tiny “o”, eyelids blanketing your hues, and with the street lights flickering to life across the seam of thirty-eighth avenue, you’re nothing short of angelic — features now outlined in a seraphic, dewy haze.

If he wasn’t feeling guilty beforehand, the sight before him guarantees he is now.

“Yeah, that was kind of the point.” you murmur. You don’t bother to open your eyes, not even when the iron beams start to squeak under Peter’s weight. “Can I help you with something? I’m pretty sure this thing has a weight limit, and this is a weighted blanket.”

You’re met with silence, and you hate to admit it, but you’d take his silent presence over your self-induced isolation any day. Despite the fact that you only moved in together four months prior, your body has grown accustomed to his presence, subconsciously weaving it into your daily routine. There were nights when you would splay out like a starfish in your childhood bedroom, waiting restlessly for the gentle wrap of his knuckles at the window pane, and that same restlessness bleeds into nights in your shared apartment, which then bleeds into now. Sure, you can trick your body into sleeping, but rest seems to be boroughs and islands away when Peter’s not there to wish you a good night.

A terse silence settles between the two of you, and you blink up at Peter, expecting him to break it since you surely wouldn’t.

“Why here?” Peter exceeds your expectations with his query. His gaze is fixed on Manhattan’s skyline — even from the tippy top of the complex, he can still make out the jagged glittering, crust of the city’s bustling core — and it’s then he finds the answer to his very own question.

“I used to sneak onto the fire escape at my parents place, too.” you reminisce, the corners of your lips curling into a bittersweet grin. “The apartment walls were thin, and whenever they would fight, or talk shit about something I did that day, I would just sit on the fire escape until I fell asleep.”

“How?” He breaks yet another lengthy pause, and you fight the urge to chuckle at his candor, settling with a lazy grin. “I mean, no offense, but Astoria isn’t exactly a library.”

“Yeah, but inside, I knew exactly what they were saying, how they were feeling — it was all in the air. At least out here everything just… blends together. It’s kind of peaceful in a way.”

Your voice is so timid and gentle as you recall your childhood, reflecting on moments that seem lifetimes away despite the handful of years in between. Peter’s gaze is transfixed on your profile, skating down the slope of your nose and skirting the curves of your lips until he realizes just how small you are. He tends to hold you on a pedestal, a habit he’s retained since the very beginning of your relationship, so sometimes it still baffles him to know that you can be anything but perfect — that you too can be human, and make human mistakes.

“How come I’ve never seen you out here before?” He feels like a little kid, question after question slipping past his lips before he even has the chance to filter them.

“‘Cause I haven’t had a reason to hide since I moved in with you.”

And just when he thought he couldn’t feel even guiltier, he’s soon overflowing with it. It kills him to know that you felt the need to escape, and you’ll never admit it after tonight, but he was the one who pushed you toward it.

“I’m sorry.” Peter blurts out, not expecting you to say —

“I’m sorry.”

You furrow your brows, cutting him off before he can even open his mouth to protest. “I’m just so used to my Peter. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that I’m sharing him with the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

“Hey, hey — look at me.” His thumb traces the spot right under your eye, using his pinky to nudge the curve of your jaw upward, toward his gaze — heavy and drenched in a type of resoluteness that leaves your mouth bone dry. “It may not always seem like it, but trust me when I tell you that you’re always going to be my top priority.”

“Peter, you’re being dramatic.” You sigh, finding it hard to believe that your life could take any precedence over the safety of mankind itself.

“No, I’m being honest.” His voice, his gaze, they leave no room for protest. You feel a little awkward being the center of their attention, and so it’s a relief when they shift to the city’s skyline once more. “Look over there, you know what that is?”

“Central Park?”

“Mhm, good girl.” Crimson blooms across the valley of your cheeks at his choice of nickname, no matter how innocently he uttered it, but your attention still remains undivided. “I figured out that I can get home quicker if I cut through it.”

You quirk a brow, and he doesn’t need to ask to know exactly what you’re thinking — So what if he hasn’t figured out which trains he needs to board in order to make a dent in his homebound commute? It’s the thought that counts.

“Sometimes like to just stop for a second and watch some of the people in the park, but not in, like, a creepy way? You know what I mean?” A subtle hint of embarrassment tinges his features, but dissolves once he notices your understanding nod. “Is there a word for that?”

“Yeah, it’s called people watching.” You snickered, trying to imagine your boyfriend and his attempts at roasting the New York natives. “MJ and I do it all the time.”

“No, but with less… shit talking.” He counters.

Ouch.

“Oh…” You’re stumped, unsure of where he’s heading and, quite frankly, a little humbled by his read. “Hmm… Carry on?”

“Well,” Peter lets his hand rest palm forward on his knee, fingers gently curled, and you’re well acquainted with the gesture. Almost instinctively, you hover your hand above his own, digits clumsily dancing with one another as he speaks, and for a fleeting second, everything is back to normal. “It’s just… mind-blowing sometimes. There’s so much life there, all at once. All of these people are just living their lives, making their way home, falling in love, falling out of love, buying overpriced hotdogs from the street vendors — The other day I saw this mom fishing her two toddlers out of that fountain on Terrace road and honestly, if they don’t end up with superpowers, I’ll be shocked.” He can tell he’s drifted wildly off track by the way you nod, slowly and unsure, as to not offend him and his train of thought. “The point is… I used to protect all of that, and it used to make me so happy.”

“You still do,” You murmur, not one to discredit the risks he does take in the name of New York. Just because his enemies aren’t held to the same caliber as, say, Thanos, doesn’t mean they aren’t worthwhile. “All that matters is that you’re doing what you can.”

You hesitantly intertwine your fingers with his, in just a delicate enough hold to let him reject it if he so chooses. Your lips softly quirk upward when he only tightens the grip.

“Thank you.” He offers a comforting smile, one that barely reaches his eyes, and you can tell that he has more to say. So, you squeeze his hand, silently urging him to continue. “Well, I just- after Mr.Stark… passed away… it was really hard to remember why I started doing all of it in the first place. Like- I hate saying this, but why do we keep protecting all of these strangers when all the people we do know just keep getting hurt?” He winces at his own words, so far removed from such bitterness that he can barely believe he once thought such selfish things. “But then- then I get to see all of the people that I’ve been protecting, and suddenly it all makes sense again. All I want to do is make sure people are safe, and happy, and hopefully… Hopefully, when we’re older, and we have kids that jump in the fountains at Central Park, someone like me will be watching… and they’ll feel the exact same way.”

When we’re older, When we have kids... Those promises of marriage, of a loving family, of a future — they bounce off your eardrums like a mantra. Soon, you can’t even imagine thinking about anything but Peter’s words, and how much you love him right now, and how you’ll love him until your heart can’t possibly take it anymore. You can read what he’s trying to portray loud and clear — He loves you, he can see a future with you, and if there’s ever a doubt in your mind that his feelings may have changed, you can look out into the world and find pieces of his heart in every passing face.

“I haven’t been doing everything I can to make sure that’s possible, though.” He breaches your lovesick trance, reminding you that there’s still a thread of discord dangling between you. One that you can see rapidly disappearing with each passing second. “I have to go on this mission, Y/N. I wanna start helping people again. I wanna do right by him.”

“I know.” You whisper, conceding to the fact that you will always want what’s best for him, even if you aren’t a fan of the circumstances. “It doesn’t make it any less sucky.”

“C’mere.” He can barely pat his thighs before you’re crawling toward him. He passes a warm hand under your thigh once you straddle his waist, scooping you further into his lap, and uses his free hand to encompass the nape of your neck. You feel like you could melt, being cradled between his strong, toned arms, and the feeling only intensifies when his lips seek out yours. His lips are soft, and warm, and taste like listerine, and you couldn’t ask for anything more perfectly suited for you.

“I love you.” He murmurs against your lips, without a trace of uncertainty. His thumb wipes the corner of your mouth, and he continues to plant a series of sweet, soft butterfly kisses over every patch of skin he can get his lips on — your cheeks, your nose, your temple.

He’s so wrapped up in his gentle ministrations that he barely hears you return the sentiment, eyes fluttering to a close as you breathe out, “I love you.”

“Please come inside,'' he whispers against your forehead, punctuating his plea with a chaste kiss.

You pretend to entertain the thought, tapping your index finger against your chin, before shaking your head with a waggish simper. Fortunately for you, it doesn’t take long for him to take the bait, and he disappears through the window. You can just barely make out the harmony of wild rustling and hushed obscenities coming from your room before Peter is returning to your makeshift bed, clad in the cheesy “The Floor is Lava!” hoodie you snagged from a street vendor during your trip to Pompeii the summer beforehand.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Y/N,” Peter’s voice is tight, shuffling his knees across the fretted ground as he crawls into your lap. It takes him all of three seconds to make himself comfortable, collapsing between your thighs, and you seize the opportunity to weave your fingers through his soft, chestnut locks. “I don’t think I can make this a recurring thing. I can already feel the scoliosis forming.”

“You’re such a drama queen,” you scoff, only to be met with a scandalized set of caramel hues. “I think you can make it through the night without any permanent damage to your spine.” With droopy eyes, your body starts to hum with the tell-tale signs of sleep, and your voice drips with drowsiness as you murmur, “And I wanna savor as many nights with you as I can.”

“I know,” he whispers back, the aftertaste of guilt intermingling with the abashment that follows your sleepy confession. ”I know. I’m right here, babe.”

And he swore, in that very moment, that nothing would change that.

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x reader #this plot is not the same plot i started with #[tiktok vc] what happened to the original plot of the movie?#but i hope that everyone enjoys? im a little nervous since it's my first one but #please be gentle and most importantly ENJOY #dear god i hope this shows up in the tags #mine

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wannabemobwife · 3 years

Text

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader Fanfic

-Pairings: mob! Tom Holland x reader

-Warnings: Language

-Words: 3.9K

Background Info- Tom Holland is boss of his mafia and Y/N Holland, his wife, is former mafia boss turned stay at home mom but still joined Tom on his business trips and meetings. They started dating at 19 and were married at the young age of 21, realizing they only needed each other. They have two kids together, both ages 16, Parker and Rosie Holland.

*Realistically to have two teenagers, Tom and Y/N are both in their mid/late thirties but they look like they are in their mid twenties/late twenties alright. What can I say, they have really good genes. I can guarantee that Tom will still definitely look as gorgeous as he does know in his 30’s.

Author note: I enjoy writing drama, so it’s hard to have constant fluff, mostly angst (I hope, at least what I consider angst). The more times where a character almost dies but doesn’t the better to me. This is my first fanfic, I wrote this story based on being married with kids because that is the part of my life I’m most looking forward to. Heads up but there is tons of dialogue, I find that the most fun to write.

Also I enjoy PDA and a personal goal of mine is to be married for 20 years and still want to jump my husband’s bones so there are a bunch of little hints like that through the fanfic. Sorry if your name is any of the characters, feel free to change them in your mind. I know it’s stupid of me to say that but whatever.

Chapter 1: Dressed to the Nines

Words: 3.9K

You and Tom were a power couple. The Hollands, the ones with the most power and the most dangerous. A king and queen to their empire. Lately you had been tackling married life together and had been raising two kids. A boy named Parker and a girl named Rosie both the same age. But nothing could prepare you for what every parent dreads, their teenage years. All the hormones, mood swings and relationship drama that comes with it.

When both the twins turned 16 it was big turning point in your family. Rights of passage as Tom would say. You and Tom threw a massive gala to celebrate their 16 years of being alive. Tom as the leader of his own mob, money was no object and you coming from the family you did and being a former mafia boss, you both had truly opulent wealth. It was the night of their kids’ sixteenth birthday and everyone was invited from family, friends, business associates and even enemies. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer they would say. Tom and tried to keep as much as possible from your kids, trying to give them a normal childhood. Failing over and over again at that. Some nights Tom would come home bloody from beating up someone who crossed him. Or there would always been strange, bulky, built men surrounding your mansion for protection. It was hard to explain everything to the kids, but it was something they just had to do for family.

The party was about to begin, 7:00 on the dot, and the house was decorated to fit a very elegant yet youthful look. Caterers dressed in white carrying bountiful trays of appetizers. Tom and you adored the luxury of their life, even though they knew if they didn’t have all the materials they did they would be even happier. Their family is what mattered most to them. You were dressed to the nines, in a lace gold gown, with sparkly stilettos on. Her Y/H/C hair gracefully laying one her back, without a strand out of the place. And her Y/E/C eyes were beaming, if looks could kill they would. Tom couldn’t help but admire you.

“You know, it’s rude to gawk,” you said and Tom chuckled.

“I’m sorry but you’re just too beautiful not to,” he responded and placing his hands on your hips.

Rolling your eyes and smirking you said “tonight’s the night.”

“I know, should we do it now?” he questioned as his half smile turned into a frown.

“No, let him have this one more night. Without any obligation,” you had been dreading this night for years.

“Alright, darling,” he said as he kissed softly, he just couldn’t contain himself he

found his other half. The person that makes him want to be a better man. His soulmate.

Like any family there are skeletons in their closets but, the Hollands were a whole another story. Tonight was the night, one they had been dreading for 16 years, to be exact. You and Tom’s son, Parker would be tasked with the most difficult decision of his life. One that will rewrite his story. Tom wishes he would just turn it down and do what he didn’t have the balls to do when he was his age.

The day Tom’s dad brought him into the office, he knew his life would never be the same. Dom, his father and former boss of the Holland empire, made it very clear that if he turned him down, he could forget about being in this family. Tom just knows he won’t give the same ultimatum. Parker being the oldest and only son of Tom and Y/N Holland is the future of their family empire. Parker was quite popular, a playboy actually and very dashing. Wearing a black suit with a black tie and a white shirt he look just like his dad with his brown hair slicked back. Being one of the guests of honor tonight he had to look the part. Slowly made his way to the bar before his mother could find him. Desperately needing some liquid courage, he quickly poured himself a shot of vodka and downed it even faster. However nothing gets past, you, Y/N Holland.

“Parker Jackson Holland!” you fumed, catching her 16 year old son drinking.

“Hey, what’s with the middle naming me, it’s my birthday,” he responded a little startled.

“You should not be drinking, ever. You got two years, mister,” you explained.

“Alright, mum,” Parker sounded annoyed.

“Where’s your sister by the way, party is supposed to start in 10 mins,” you said as she noticed all the guest starting to arrive. A line of people already waiting at the door but everyone knew the Hollands preferred people to arrive fashionably late.

“I don’t know. Having a fit probably. Last I heard was screaming coming from her closet.”

“I’ll go check on her. Your father and I need you sober later. Understood?” You exclaimed.

“Yes, mum.” Parker was a good boy on paper but, enjoyed breaking the rules.

Right as you turned away, Parker then started to pour another shot.

“Don’t even think about it,” you said still walking forward. Parker chuckled and set the shot down.

You went to go check on her daughter. You knocked on the door when she heard something shatter. Rosie may seem timid but she definitely inherited Tom’s anger issues.

“Honey? Is everything alright?” You questioned, startled by the outburst.

“Yeah, mum. I’m sorry,” Rosie muttered seeming frustrated.

“It’s ok, oh honey!” You exclaimed, noticing the tears on her daughter face

“I know, this is stupid,” Rosie whispered trying to hide her tear stained face.

“No, no it isn’t. What’s wrong?” you said, genuinely concerned for her daughter’s well-being.

“I don’t know everything, this dress, my hair, my makeup,” she exclaimed frantically.

“Baby, you look beautiful.”

“Pretty enough that someone would want to dance with me?” Rosie whispered. You were caught off guard that your daughter could ever have thoughts like that.

“Yes of course, you are always gorgeous.” You hated seeing your baby girl beat herself up based on her looks.

“Thanks mom, I have a question?” You just nodded in response.

How did you get dad to fall in love with you?” Rosie asked inquisitively.

“Um, I guess was just myself. I didn’t put on a facade and I was very honest and transparent with him,” you answered a little taken back from the question.

“You were yourself? I find that hard to believe. From stories I’ve heard you seemed to be bold, brave and beguiling” said Rosie with a hint of sarcasm.

“Am I not those things now?” You asked, cheekily.

“No you are, just in a different way.”

“Honey, whoever you are trying impress, will love for who you are, ok?” You couldn’t stand seeing her daughter like this.

“Alright. Can you help me with my makeup?” Rosie asked because her previous makeup had been ruined by her miniature breakdown

“Yes, of course.”

Back at the party Tom was making his way around saying hello to almost everyone. He desperately needed to find his son. Tom’s and Parker’s relationship was interesting to say the least. As babies and toddlers Tom was there. He loved his kids so much but as they grew older they only noticed the times he wasn’t there. Only the missed recitals and football games, never all times that had dinner as a family and he tucked them in to bed at night. Parker is closer to his mother and his twin sister. Never really having that man to man talk with his dad yet. The time when fathers stop seeing their sons as boys and look at them as men. Tom approached Parker sitting there with his a drink in his hand, he hoped was a watered down Pepsi.

“Hey Parker, did your mom talk to you already?” Tom asked, not trying to raise too many questions.

“No, she might have mentioned something,” Parker responded.

“Ok, well after cake meet me in my office.” Parker nodded in response and noticed how he tensed a little at the conversation.

Their chat quickly ended when Harrison and his 16 year old son Henry came to wish happy birthday. Harrison is Tom’s right hand man, his consigliere and his best friend. He was more than that, Harrison was family. Harrison’s son, Henry was best friends with Parker and Rosie, ever since birth.

“Hey mate,” Tom said to his best friend Harrison.

“Hey, just came to wish this guy “happy birthday”” he said patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Happy birthday, dude” Henry said to Parker and he returned with subtle “thank you’s.” Parker slightly nodded to his dad to see if he could leave the conversation and Tom let him know it was ok.

“Come on, let’s go,” Parker exclaimed making his way to den where his other friends were.

Harrison was the first to speak up, “Have you told him yet?”

“No, Y/N and I are going to do it tonight” Tom uttered with a low toned voice.

“Geez, do you need me there?” Harrison asked, afraid Tom might say yes. Harrison was there when Tom went through the same process with his dad. Tom’s anger issues didn’t help the outcome.

“I think I’m alright, just family. Not that I don’t consider you family but I don’t even know if Rosie should be there.” Tom justified.

“It’s alright mate, I get it.”

They were both enjoying their night, making their rounds, Tom and Harrison went to get drinks, not beer this time but a scotch on the rocks as this was a classy night. Everything was dandy up until one of Tom’s men, William, came up to him informing Tom of a problem.

“Sir we have a problem,” William whispered to Tom, Tom nodded for them to follow them to his office.

“William, what now? Can’t you see I’m enjoying the party?” Tom exclaimed, closing the doors to his office.

“Sir, Daniel, was found dead at his post outside, shot by a tranquilizer gun, with a note taped to his chest, it’s for you.” William announced and handed the paper to the most important and dangerous man of the mob, his boss.

“What the fuck?” A long silence stayed in the air while Tom processed the news. Awkwardness had filled the entire room as they all awaited Tom’s response.

“For fucks sake, you need at least 3 guards posted outside. NOW!” He screamed as his anger continued to rise as read the note.

“Yes, Sir.” William said promptly.

“God forbid anything else happen tonight, but my wife and kids are the first ones to be escorted to safe house. Understood?” Tom explained as he only was only thinking about his family in that moment.

“Yes, Sir.” William said and quickly ran out before he could get the brunt of Tom’s upcoming outburst. Right on cue, Tom threw a glass ashtray at the wall, it shattering into shards.

“Calm down mate, what did the note even say.” Harrison asked with a worrisome look on his face. Tom showed Harrison the joy and his smile faded immediately. Tom for the first time, in a while, felt fear because he knew he had everything to lose.

Not wanting to deal with the life long headache that is his life. He looked for solace in, you, his wife as he spotted her over by the fireplace and made his way over to you.

“Have told you look stunning tonight?” He said instantly falling in love with you over again.

“Several times actually,” you said.

“Well I can’t help what you do to me, gorgeous.” He said placing a kiss to your temple.

“Hey, have you had the talk with him yet?” You said pointing a finger at your son getting very intimate with some girl.

The girl was Charlotte Owens. Parker and her had been together for almost a year, but you and Tom hadn’t met her formally yet. Your son was very tight-lipped the it came to his private life. She was tall, fair and had platinum blonde hair along with piercing blue eyes. Rosie didn’t seem to like her very much, constantly annoyed by her popularity status and reputation, used to be known for being with a new guy every couple weeks and don’t put it past Rosie to not give her the benefit of the doubt.

“No, remember we’re going to do it tonight. Is something wrong?” He said with concern, worried why you would forget something so important.

“No, not that talk, silly, “The talk”,” you responded. His lips formed an “o” shaped as he realized he would have to teach his son about how to be safe during sex.

“Oh, no. I’ve been avoiding it for as long as possible.”

“Why baby, you’re so good at it. You could give him a few a pointers.” You said, winking at him.

“Wow, love, you surprise me everyday. Speaking of beautiful girls, where’s Rosie. I’ve haven’t seen her all night,” Tom quickly trying to change the subject as they were at a party.

“I saw her a few minutes ago,” you said as a puzzled look grew on her face.

“Come on, let’s go find her and maybe you and I can sneak off for awhile.” He said cheekily.

“Tommy,” you whispered but eventually agreed. Slowly making your way out of the main ballroom to the secret garden next to his office.

Walking very slyly, you both made your way to secret spot near Tom’s office. Where ivy had grown throughout the brick and purple and yellow tulips lined the fence along with giant trees. There was a little wishing fountain that Tom had installed when you moved in, this was their secret spot. One where they could forget about all the violence and responsibility that tainted their lives.

Their intimate moment was ruined when Rosie walked by with some random guy named Connor, not the person she’d hope to bring there. All throughout the night Rosie seemed to be jealous of the attention her crush was getting at the party as he didn’t pay attention to her. Thus, she went find a distraction of her own.

“Oh hey, shh, look two people getting it on over there,” he whispered to her as she dragged him outside.

“Please don’t be my brother.” She murmured but felt like she wanted to throw up when she saw who it was.

“Mom, dad?” Rosie screamed.

“Oh shit, we’ve been busted,” Tom muttered against your neck.

“Hey honey,” You said while Rosie was completely mortified. Rosie’s potential hookup stood there mouth wide open.

“That’s your mum, god, she’s a babe.” Connor said.

“Connor, not helping.” Rosie exclaimed sternly as she pinched his side.

Tom spoke up, “Why don’t you guys go back and enjoy the rest of the party.”

Rosie just nodded and left as fast as humanly possible. She never wants to be that embarrassed again.

“Oh my god, we were gonna get it later.” You said.

“I know, we really screwed up this time. But have you had “the talk” with her yet,” Tom asked.

“Nope, we should both really get on that. What would I’ve happened if they hadn’t caught us?” You asked jokingly.

“I don’t want to think about that Y/N! She’s our daughter.” Tom exclaimed.

“Neither do I.”

“Enough of this, where were we?” Tom interjected immediately changing the subject.

“Well you lips were on my neck and you hand was on my waist, but I think the moment has passed and we should get back to the party,” you said rather seductively.

“Fine, I know you’re right. But fuck, I just want to make out with my wife,” Tom muttered frustratingly.

“Well you can later... in bed.” Winking as you chuckled.

“Man, that kid was right, you are a babe.”he said as he slapped your ass as you walked in front of him chuckling.

“Is it time for cake?” Harrison asks as he came up to Tom and you.

“I think it is.” Tom said and you nodded. Walking towards Rosie, who was desperately trying to erase her self from existence because of the embarrassment she’d experienced a minute ago.

“Hi, honey. Can you please go find your brother? We are going to cut the cake.” You said trying not to accidentally bring up the elephant in the room.

“Alright, fine,” Rosie muttered still a little peeved finding you and Tom like that. Rosie searched high and low for Parker.

Needing some assistance she asked Henry. “Hey, have you seen my brother?”

“Last I saw he was taking Charlotte to the green house” Henry responded.

“Alright, come on, let’s go find them” Rosie said rolling her eyes. Her hand slipped into Henry’s as she led the way. Making their way through the vast yet gorgeous yard. Rosie and Henry found Parker and Charlottes lips entangled together and bodies in a compromising position in the green house

“For fucks sake, how many people am I going to find sucking face at this party.” Rosie yelled, startling Charlotte and Parker.

“What the fuck do you want, Rosie? Can’t you see I’m busy.” Parker quipped annoyingly.

“Mom and dad want to cut the cake” Rosie responded.

“Ugh fine. Give us 10 mins” knowing he will be finished in that time.

“No, you can fuck your bimbo of a girlfriend later.” Rosie said, receiving a grimace from Charlotte.

“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that! Fuck off!” Parker yelled as Henry and Rosie left. Both of the kids had inherited Tom’s angry side.

“Well, you can explain to mom and dad you were late because you were balls deep in in your whore,” Rosie said walking away.

The moments leading up to the end of Parker’s innocence were fleeting. In more ways than one. He wasn’t a virgin even before that evening but, Parker could imagine the task he was supposed to accomplish. The 3 tier chocolate raspberry ganache cake had been cut and distributed to the guests. Happy birthday had been sung to Rosie and Parker. Parker tried to go off with Charlotte again, but Harrison stopped him and brought him to the Tom’s office.

“They’re in there,” Harrison whispered.

“Who?” Parker asked Harrison who was like his uncle.

“Just go,” Parker opened the door to see his mother and his dad sat behind the desk. The door shut behind him.

“Mom? Dad? What’s going on here?” Parker hesitated.

“Son, sit down,” Tom said, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy.

“We have to talk to you.” You interjected.

“Parker, as part of this family, there are certain responsibilities you have to take. It is a tradition in our family that at the age of 16, the sons are brought to light about the dealings of our family and what is expected of you,” Tom said as Parker grew wary. Not really understanding what his parents were trying to convey.

Throughout his entire life, he had his suspicions about his family. Wondering why men followed them everywhere, even on trips to the store for eggs. Why his parents went to work but have never seen their office, only heard it referred to as “the warehouse.” Why everything was always so damm secretive. Scared if he accidentally let some enormous family secret slip with his big mouth there would be repercussions. Never not scared of the harm that could come to his family.

“Your father, is the leader of a very powerful mob. I am part of it too, not just as wife but as his partner. There will be day when he will longer be in position of boss and you will take over,” you asserted playing off of Tom’s words.

“Our family is not only the owners of one of the world’s richest exporting company, we also do business with casinos and own multiple hotel chains. Sometimes our work brings us above the law, but the connections we have are what keep us alive.” Tom explained trying to preserve his son’s innocence.

“Why are you telling me all this?” Parker stuttered.

“Because it is time. Time for you to step up and take your place in this family. You’ve had 16 years of juvenile fun and now this is what has to be done.” Tom concluded.

“What if I don’t want this life. You don’t think I don’t know what happens behind closed doors here. All the times dad has come home with a black eye or blood on his knuckles. Why fuck isn’t Rosie here? She is the same age as me, WE ARE TWINS! Why am I the only one who has to do this. I don’t want to kill for sport like you and mom!” Parker screamed. He couldn’t handle this anymore. There was too much information he had to process.

“Do not raise your voice at your mother! Tom screamed.

“Dad, I had dreams and hopes. I wanted to go to college and travel. Find a nice girl and marry her. Experience the kind of love you and mom have. What you are asking me to do, flushes all that away. You are asking me to give up on my life.

So that’s it, I don’t have a choice,” Parker begged.

“Baby, you have a choice. Nothing is set in stone,” you said rubbing his arm.

“Y/N, you damm well know what will happen if he turns this down,” Tom yelled.

“Maybe this life works for you two, but I don’t want this kind of life. My answer is no. Find someone else.”

“Parker, you know I can’t do that. Take a couple days and think about it” Tom answered trying to stay calm.

“NO DAD! My answer is final, I’m not going to be your apprentice to carry on this heinous family legacy!” Parker exploded. It was too much.

“If you aren’t willing to do what is asked of you, then you can forget about being in this family!” Tom screamed. He did exactly what he said he wouldn’t, he gave his son an ultimatum. Parker couldn’t handle it anymore and left. Needing to forget about the fact he no longer had a say. He was stuck.

It was just Tom and you sitting in the study. They couldn’t understand where the conversation had gone. All their hopes for tonight went out the window along with potted plant Tom threw when Parker stormed out.

“Tom, you can’t force him. You can’t do what your father did to you to him.” You tried to say in a loving tone but it came out as stern.

“IM NOT, Y/N!!!” Tom screamed. He had fucked up. The words spoken tonight have rewritten his relationship with his son.

“Alright.” You whispered trying to calm your fuming husband down.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice, baby.” Tom’s tone immediately changed once he heard the softness of your voice. You just nodded in response

“Tommy?” You asked hoping Tom was now ok.

“Yes, love” Tom said.

“He’ll come around. I can promise you that.”

“I know, darling. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what?” a look of confusion grew on your face.

He handed you a paper, the same one that was found on Daniel’s body, saying “Eclipsing of the Hollands. Let the show begin. Better watch your back.”

It was threat. A play to eventually be made on his life or the life of his family and you all had no idea who was behind it.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #Dad!Mob!Tom Holland #Mob!Tom #mobster #Mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom x reader

158 notes · View notes

marshieee · 3 years

Note

Could i request kuroo ushijima sakusa and msby bokuto when you come to their games but its a big game and you bring your kid(s) with you. (Maybe the kid(s) help bokuto with his emo mode or the kids help calm their dad down) idk i just thought this would be cute and fun for you to write

Also idk if you accept anons but if you do can i be midnight anon

Aahhhhh a father to children interaction i love that!❤️❤️ i still can’t believe I’m receiving request huhuhu😭❤️ OFCOURSE I ACCEPT ANONS! CHARACTER ANONS OR WHATEVER JUST COME TO ME!!!🥰 also this is gonna be their timeskip version so I’m gonna stick with kuroo’s timeskip profession if you don’t mind also i wanted to try to make this a little scenario just tell me if you want to make this as a hc. Sorry this took awhile.

When their kid(s) came to see them

Kuroo

“Man...”

Kuroo was watching schweiden alders game feeling nervous as he watch ushijima spikes the ball.

“Jeez he’s gonna break the ball at this point”

He was assigned to ask ushijima for a promotion video promoting a good sportsmanship and promoting the game just like what he did with hinata.

Normally he wouldn’t get this nervous but learning that ushijima is utsui takashi’s son changed his mood. Also knowing that ushijima would eventually become a professional volleyball player under Japan V. League soon.

“Like father like son huh”

Suddenly out of nowhere, even though the whole place was booming with cheers and claps he heard someone calling him.

“DADDY!!!”

He turned around and saw his ball of sunshine running towards him with you trailing behind.

“Baby!”

He kneels down and opened his arms waiting for his son to come to him. The toddler then dives into his fathers arms and started giggling, he stood up carrying his son.

“What brings you here buddy?”

“Mommy said she was going to watch a volleyball game and asked me if i wanna go”

“And you did”

“AND I DID”

As you finally reached them he gave you a cheeky smile, he kissed your cheeks since his son is there so kiss on the lips can wait.

“Hi kitten”

“Hello to you too kuroo-san”

“KUROO-SAN?”

You laughed but finally noticing his is kind of pale worried that he might be sick you gently cupped his face.

“Are you ok?”

He grabs your hand and give it a kiss, feeling that he is slowly calming down.

“Yeah”

But suddenly his son grabbed both of his cheeks and forcibly turned kuroo to face him.

“Y-Yes?”

“Daddy are you sick?”

“No buddy I’m fine”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure”

“Really?”

“Really”

“Okay”

“Hahaha...ok”

Still not convinced with his father’s word he gave kuroo a kiss on the cheeks and made up a little chant to make sure he’s ok.

“Thank you baby i feel a lot better now”

“What’s up with you anyways?”

“Well i was assigned to ask ushijima if he can make a promotion video with us”

“And? What’s wrong with that?”

“Recently i just discovered that ushijima is utsui takashi’s son”

“Wait really? The utsui takashi?”

“Yeah”

“Omygod”

“I know right?!”

Suddenly someone flung their arms around your shoulder, now that you noticed how close your face were with kuroo. The both of you looked at your son who is struggling to keep his arms around you since you’re a bit far, giggling you stepped closer, when he got comfortable, he took a deep breath and puts on a serious face.

“Who is utsui takashi?”

“Why is utsui takashi?”

“How is utsui takashi?”

You three fell silent for a good minute before bursting with laughter.

“Why are we even huddling anyways?”

You took your son out of kuroo’s arms and continued laughing with him. Kuroo watched both of his precious gems having fun, all smiles and that’s what he likes.

Ushijima

It was a big day today since it’s msby vs schweiden alders game.

He felt a excitement since he’s going to play against hinata shoyo again after those years. The fact that you told him you can’t come to his game today since you’re too busy and his daughter has a play date really saddens his mood. Boy just wants to flex sometimes you know.

Suddenly he heard a commotion outside their waiting room, he didn’t mind it at first but it gradually got a little louder so he decided to check it out. This man got confused over a commotion cause not only his teammates were there also the msby players were also there huddled in the middle of the hallway.

“What’s happening?”

They all turned around that made ushijima anxious because duh they were looking at him like he just killed someone then all of a sudden in the center of those giant players was a lovely little girl.

“PAPA!!!”

“Keiko?”

Fun fact: ushi named his daughter keiko that means “respected child”

Keiko runs up to her father and ushijima instantly scoops her up in his arms.

“Papa i’m here”

“But i thought keiko has a play date today?”

“Keiko said she wants to watch her papa play”

The boys gave way to you as you walked up to the both of them. Ushijima gave you a smile and pecks your lips.

“Hi mama”

“Hello honey”

Suddenly Kageyama appeared besides you and bowed.

“Hello y/n-san!”

“Oh my hello tobio-kun”

“TOBIO NII-CHAN!!”

“Hello keiko”

Hoshiumi then appeared behind ushijima and waved at little keiko.

“Hiii keiko-chan!”

“HOSHIUMI NII-CHAN!!”

“Hey keiko who do you think is the coolest?—“

“Papa!”

“No no not that—“

“But papa is the coolest for me”

“Besides your papa, me or hinata shoyo?”

Suddenly hinata pops out and caught keiko’s attention, ushijima had to hold her since she moved to the side to look at hinata. She stared at hinata making him nervous.

“SUNSHINE!!!”

They all got quiet when keiko shouted sunshine while giggling, hinata on the other hand was confused.

“Sunshine?”

“Shoyo nii-chan sunshine!”

Hinata blushed furiously after receiving a compliment from keiko, hoshiumi did not know what’s happening so he asked ushijima if he can carry keiko.

“Sure just be careful”

“I will i will”

Then they started to surround keiko again asking who’s the coolest to who’s the tallest and who’s the best etc. etc.

Ushijima watched as her baby girl was getting along with his teammates and other teams as well. You looked at ushijima who has a soft look, nudging him to the side.

“It looks like keiko is popular huh~”

“Yeah”

“Ah I wonder if she’s also popular at her daycare~”

Ushijima turned to look at you with a confused expression.

“Because if she is there’s probably a boy who likes her—“

“No”

“But what if when she goes home and told us about—“

“No”

“Aww keiko will have a prince—“

Ushijima grabbed both of your cheeks and kissed your nose, but he still looks frustrated after you put those thoughts in his head.

“Y/N no”

“Owkie~”

Sakusa

Today is a big day for the japan V league, the gymnasium was packed with fans and supporters for each team. You could see a lot of flags here and there, there’s also a huge group of people who would cheer for their teams.

A lot of camera has been clicking and taping since then. Fortunately for you, you got a good seat in front thanks for the sources you had, your little girl who’s sitting besides you is very excited to watch the game.

She begged you to have her face painted with a japan flag which you unfortunately did because you can’t say no to her sometimes, you gave her a fan with the japan’s team on it so she could wave it around and to fan herself of course.

The game has started and you cheered with your daughter, shouting and jumping whenever the japan team scores a point. Soon the game ended and it was the win of the japan team. You felt someone tug your shirt looking down you saw your daughter who was ready to go.

“Mommy let’s go! Let’s go!”

“Alright baby calm down we’re going”

You held her hands as you two walk towards the court, thankfully you two wore a pass around your neck or else.

When you arrived at the court a lot of people were there, paparazzi, reporters, few important peoples and all. You were trying to spot your husband among the crowd but your daughter found him first, she lets go of your hand and came dashing to wherever she found her father.

“AH BABY! WAIT!”

“DADDY!!”

Sakusa was having an interview with a reporter that time so he didn’t notice a little girl running towards him, when she got to where her daddy was she immediately hugged him.

The reporter was confused and panicking since a little girl suddenly interrupted their interview, they were glancing back and forgot to sakusa to the little girl when all of a sudden sakusa smiled and lifted her up.

“Where were we again?”

“Oh..um right uh, y-your thoughts about the game”

“Ah yes, they were a tough opponent that’s given it was really hard to go pass through their defense so it was nice when aran broke their defenses with one hard spike, overall it was a good game everyone did their best so that’s what matters”

“Right one last question um do you know this little girl?”

Sakusa looked at the ball of sunshine in his arms and smiled at her.

“Do you want to introduce yourself?”

The nodded enthusiastically at her father,

“Go on”

“Hello! My name is sakusa hayami! Nice to meet you!”

Fun fact:Sakusa named his daughter hayami which means “rare beauty”

The reporter was surprised and looked at sakusa who was smiling.

“She’s my daughter”

“Oh! Hello hayami-san nice to meet you too how old are you?”

“I’m...”

Hayami slowly extended her fingers and showed them,

“I’m five years old!”

“Wow! Anything you want to say abou your father?”

“Daddy?”

Sakusa then whispered to her.

“What do you want to say about daddy”

“MY DADDY IS AWESOME! HE’S SO STRONG WHEN HE POW THE BALL THEN WHEN THE BALL GO WHOOSH! THEN THEY CAN’T CATCH IT!”

She flings her arms in the air while explaining making the reporter giggle at her cuteness, sakusa then noticed you walking towards them, he gave you a smile and gestures you to come over.

“And here...”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

“...is my lovely wife y/n”

You bow down and the reporter bow down also, they look at the three of you and smiled.

“What a lovely family”

“It is”

Sakusa turned to look at you and kissed you on your forehead.

“It is a lovely family”

Suddenly someone shouted at the background causing all of you to turn around.

“HAYAMI-CHAN!”

“UNCLE BOKUTO!”

“HI HAYAMI-CHAN!”

“UNCLE TSUMU”

Sakusa turned to look at the reporter with a frustrated face.

“It’s a lovely family not until they come around”

“Ah hahaha...”

When the interview ended hayami played with her uncles, sakusa held your hand.

“Did you enjoyed the game?”

“Yeah i did, Hayami also enjoyed the game”

“Really?”

“Yes really i had to stop her from shouting to much or she’ll hurt her throat”

“Hahahaha...i see”

He placed a soft kiss on your hand, you looked at him.

“Thank you”

“You’re welcome~”

Bokuto

You wanted to surprise bokuto so you didn’t tell him that you’ll be watching his game today all he knows is you’ll be at your friend’s house since they needed you with something and the kids were scheduled with a play date.

He didn’t mind of course but it’s still sad that his babies wouldn’t be there to watch him play but when you told him that you’ll be watching at the television he said that he’ll do his best.

Now that you’re here at the noisy gymnasium full of spectators who supports their favorite teams, other brought their own banner some joined a cheering team. The whole gymnasium was full of tension and excitement that infected both of your children as they were jumping and shouting that you have to sometimes cover their mouth or else they’ll hurt themselves.

“GOOOO DADDY!!!!”

“GO GO MSBY!!!”

Bokuto didn’t know that you three were there all he knows is to focus on the game and win. Since the whole area was full of cheer it’ll be hard for bokuto to hear his kids cheering for him.

As the game went on the msby team isn’t doing well they were five points behind and they needed to catch up or the numbers will pile up. You can tell your husband is getting frustrated since his spikes keeps getting blocked, unlike before he knows how to calm down and act rationally but the frustration is still there if this continues he will lose his focus.

You have to do something, you were thinking of ways to help your husband and then suddenly your kids started shouting even more.

“DADDY YOU CAN DO THIS!!!”

“DADDYYYY!!!!”

You guessed that they sensed that their daddy is having a tough time, then it came to you, it’s kind of dumb to bring this with you but you thought that you might need or someone might need it and it looks like you did. Tapping the shoulders of the shouting children they then looked at you.

“Kasuga, haruki...”

You named your little girl kasuga which means “spring day” while bokuto named his young man haruki which means “shining sun”

You gave them a thumbs up as they looked at you with a confused expression.

“...leave it to mommy”

You grabbed your bag and looked for the thing that you brought, you immediately pulled it out of the bag.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a megaphone”

Yes, you did brought a megaphone without any reason you just shoved it down and brought it.

“Mega-phone?”

“Uh huh you can talk here and it’ll make your voice suuuuper loud and I’m sure daddy will hear it!”

They were excited to use it since they know that their daddy will finally hear them, you started to turn on the megaphone and handed the it to them.

“You two hold it very still”

Haruki lets his sister hold the upper part of handle while he holds the lower part of it. You made sure that it was on and loud and clear.

“Ok now you two go in front right, there in the railings mommy will be right beside you”

You don’t want other people burts their damn eardrums when the twins shouts. They slowly and carefully walked down the stairs holding on the megaphone on their hands. When you arrived at the bottom, the twins looked at you as you gave them your signal.

“Ok on the count of three...one...two...three!”

They took a deep breath and cheered.

“DADDYYYYYY DO YOUR BESTTTT!! YOU CAN DO THISSSS!!! GOOO FIGHTTTTT!!!”

If it’s just one of them it wouldn’t really attract a lot of people but since there’s two of them I’m sure there’s a lot of people who’s looking at the three of you. You blushed a little but didn’t stop the twins since you’re a supportive mother and wife.

Bokuto heard their screams, at first he thought he was hallucinating but when hinata turned around and started to wave at them.

“KASUGA-CHAN! HARUKI-CHAN!!”

“Kasuga...haruki...”

He finally turned around and saw his two bundle of joy waving at him and right beside them was you who looks flustered but still waving at him. He felt all of his frustrations fading away by just looking at the three of you all smiles for him, so he raised both of his arms and smiled.

“HEY HEY HEY!!!”

The twins immediately handed you the megaphone and copied their father’s actions.

“HEY HEY HEY!!!” “HEY HEY HEY!!!”

Bokuto turned to look at you, you blowed him a kiss to which he blows you one back. Feeling a lot better he tapped both sakusa and hinata’s back.

“LET’S WIN THIS!”

Bonus:

Atsumu watched bokuto’s with his lovely family and felt extremely jealous on how the two of you blowing kisses to each other.

“How come bokuto has two cute children and a beautiful wife”

Grumbling at himself he turned to look for a camera who’s recording live on television but since there’s a alot he just shouted.

“SAMU IF I WIN THIS YA BETTER GIVE ME A FREE ONIGIRI YA JERK!”

Fortunately that was caught on cam and fortunately for him too osamu was watching live on his phone.

“THEN WIN YA DUMBASS!!!!”

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #fluff #kuroo scenario #Sakusa scenario #ushijima scenario #bokuto scenario #daddy haikyuu #timeskip kuroo #timeskip ushijima #timeskip sakusa #timeskip bokuto #timeskip haikyuu #sorry this took awhile lmao

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havvkinsqueen · 9 months

Text

How do you best like to be loved?

hear me with an honest heart

people hear without really listening, most of the time, and you hate it. you know that your words are falling dead from your mouth in a conversation as the other person just sits and waits until it is their turn to talk again. you crave more, you want to be heard with a purpose and an honesty of intentional knowing. because you are so many things, and they live within you, and you want to share them, but it is hard, because to speak is to allow someone to listen. to speak is to chance being heard. and if you are heard, and if they listen, then they will know. my darling dove, you deserve to be known. you deserve to talk until your voice gets rough and to have someone listen to every word. you deserve the kindness of an active investment by another in what it is you have to say. it isn't selfish, i promise, i swear.

Tagged by; @malka-lisitsa

Tagging; @vitaegratis , @edhellfire , @miercolaes or @bahrbae , @dreameasel , @thebabysittertm , @cruelprincae , @svnflowehrs (For Stiles) , @nanlanmo

#come closer honey that's better */ dash game #// this is upsettingly accurate #Literally sounds like something Eddie’s said to her.

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sagemusesoutloud · 3 years

Text

Anti-Romantic, Part 3

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader

Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff, Angst

WordCount | 2.5 k

Author'sNote | I know I promised this would be up Monday, but life has a funny way of getting in the way sometimes. I honestly don't know what came over me, but I woke up at 3 am and just HAD to write this down. Hope you like it ^^

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Sorry I’m an anti-romantic, I want to run far away

My heart that already chases after you, Blazes up with a small flame

You begin to regain consciousness as the pain in your neck increases. Ugh, this is why you brought your pillow from home. Rolling your neck in the other direction, you reach your hand over from the warmth to fluff the pillow when you feel movement under you.

You freeze and open your eyes, the light so bright that you immediately shut them again. Once your watery eyes calm down, you try opening one at a time. The sun was shining directly on you from the window behind you, you’d guess it was probably early morning. What shocked you into panic mode was the fact that you were still on the sofa and not in the guest bedroom like you had planned last night. Lightly lifting your head, you peek over at Jae to find him still sleeping.

Sometime during the night, both of you must have shifted to a laying position on the couch. Jae was still under you, his arms wrapped around your lower back. Well, there are worse things to wake up to. But now that you were up, so was your bladder. Do you just get up and leave? You didn’t drink that much water; you eyed the half empty water bottle on the coffee-table. Yeah, you could hold it. You relax your body and plan to drift off again when you feel Jae’s chest move with a deep breath, stretching an arm over his head. Crap, maybe I should have moved earlier…is it gonna get weird? Will he be mad?

You’re so deep in thought, it takes you a while to realize he’s not pushing you away but pulling you closer. He places his arm back, this time cradling your head as he peeks at you. “You’re awake?”

“No, I’m sleep-talking.”

You feel him rather than hear him chuckle. He rolls you both over so that you’re lying side by side and able to see you better.

“We fell asleep on the couch…did you sleep ok?” the sun hits half of his face, one of his eyes shining a deep honey color. Even the dust motes help make him look ethereal. Curse him for looking so beautiful first thing in the morning.

“hmm, yeah. Don’t get too close though, I have eye-boogers,” you try to bring the blanket up from your waist but it’s stuck so you opt to covering your eyes with your hands.

“shut up, as if it weren’t normal,” he groans as he pulls you into his chest. “It’s still early, just go back to sleep.”

“I can’t”

“…You can’t?”

“no”

“oh…” he lets you go and scoots as far back in the sofa as he can, “sorry.”

“I’m just gonna go freshen up,” you say as try your best not to fall flat on your face trying to untangle from the blanket, “I’ll be back.” Your only response is a groan before he presumably falls right back to sleep.

As you take care of your business, you can’t help the heavy feeling in your chest. What you were both doing, was it wrong? Did something change or are you overthinking things? It’s happened to you before, where you get too ahead of yourself and end up in misunderstandings. You wanted to enjoy whatever step it was that you both took together last night, but you needed that reassurance or confirmation that it wasn’t all just in your head. Jaehyun would never hurt you, not intentionally. But his cold exterior had been known to break a few hearts here and there throughout your childhood. Heck, even at work nowadays. Now that you think about it, the only times he’s hurt you he hadn’t even been aware of it. You desperately wished you could just waltz right up to him and demand answers; you just didn’t want to make yourself look like a fool for diving straight in to the ‘something more’ stage.

Up until the night before, you had been content with the game of push and pull and if someone would have told you yesterday that what transpired the night before would happen, you would have thought they were joking, but…they do say that the body makes known what the heart wants. You were still in a mess when you realize that you’d been washing your hands for long enough that the water ran cold. You decide that now was a good time as any to wash your face and brush your teeth, combing your fingers through your hair. If he wasn’t going to say anything, why should you? Yeah, this is all probably too much too soon to mean something more, so you were just going to enjoy it while you can. If anything, this could be like a free trial before committing to the long-term subscription. Yeah, that’s simple enough.

You get back to the living room to find Jae still on the couch. An arm covered his face blocking the sun and the other splayed out next to him, an invitation. Or was it? Stop it. You can’t be the one to blame when he’s taking up the whole space. You pick up the blanket from the floor and lay it half on him, leaving an opening for you to slither into. Leaning over the sofa, you move the sheer curtains to cover half the window. they didn’t do much but Jae did move his arm in alarm at the change of lighting, “oh, you’re finally back.”

“yup, all good now.” You nudge your way back into his chest as you laid down facing the room. If you really were going to sleep, you don’t know how much rest you’d be getting if you were facing him again. “good, we can sleep an hour or two more,” his arm reaches around you to pull you even closer, “don’t want you to fall off.”

And there it is, the ‘excuse.’ Is that all this was?

It all felt so intimate and personal. Jaehyun wasn’t sure if the excuses he kept giving you since last night were even believable anymore. He just couldn’t get enough of your closeness. Like a man starved, he kept drinking in the sight of you next to him, the feel of your body along his. This had officially been his best birthday to date.

He was aware that some deep, deep part of him was tensed up waiting for something to go wrong or to bolt at the first chance. But for once, his heart was louder than those thoughts. He wanted this, he wanted to have you. All of you. In turn, he wanted to give you all of him as well. That’s what scared him the most, he’s known he’s wanted you since forever, but the fact that he needed to you to embrace all of him? That he needed you to be his safe space?

In a way, he’s always known about all of this. It’s why he’s kept you at a distance for so long, but maybe he was finally ready to open up to you and be completely honest and vulnerable. Fuck, he can’t even believe it took him this long to actually do something about it.

You both wake up later in the morning. Jaehyun’s preparing coffee while you whip up breakfast, an easy pattern you both fall into. He’s not sure if the silence is a comfortable one or a heavy one, but you did seem to be in a good mood. While he’d gone to freshen up, you had connected your phone to the Bluetooth speakers and had a light melody playing. He makes a mental note to ask you over more often, he would gladly become a morning person just to see you fit so seamlessly in his home.

As you both settle down to eat, he hears you let out a gasp, “I forgot!”

“What is it?”

You whine, “aww, I wanted to give it to you on your birthday. It’s the whole reason I needed to see you.” You get up and dash over to the guestroom before he can even stop you.

“So you didn’t come just to spend time with me? Ouch,” he zeroes in on your form, hiding something behind your back. “Don’t tell me you got me flowers.” Your smile drops.

“No, they’re not flowers,” you roll your eyes. You pull his arm out, guiding your hand down until you grasp his hand. He hopes you don’t see the way he shivers at the contact. “Here,” you place the red-velvet heart-shaped box in his palm. He gasps, “oh.”

For a moment, he doesn’t know how to react. Is this what he thinks it is? No, you couldn’t possibly have, you for sure would be way more nervous if you did. But it did look like jewelry, expensive jewelry. “well, are you gonna open it?”

He wordlessly lifts the lid and finds an exquisite bracelet inside. Jaehyun wasn’t much of a guy for jewelry, but it was simple enough to be worn as everyday type of accessory. It was a thin silver type of chain, the clasp had his initials and a heart hidden on the inner-side of it. “Just so you know, the heart was part of the model,” you begin explaining, a nervous shake to your voice, “but I did ask them to engrave your initials on it to personalize it. You don’t have to like it, like I said, I saw it while out shopping and thought of you.” He glances at you to find your ears red but your expression was drawn. Fuck, were you even real?

He hands you the box back, for a second, he sees your shoulders deflate before clarifying, “I’m gonna need some help to put it on.”

“Why do you always tease me?” but you concede his request, taking out the chain carefully and pulling his wrist closer to you. Because I love you…

Because this is the only way I can show you affection without scaring you…

“Because I love your reactions.”

You let go of him as you finish your work, inspecting the way it looks. “I’m glad I knew your size,” you mumble, “it fits you perfectly.” He doesn’t miss the way he feels it weighing down his wrist. Was it a comfortable weight?

“Of course it does, you got it for me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” your eyes are piercing his, no doubt that your thoughts are probably going a hundred miles per hour. “What I just said,” his eyes are staring you down, “anything you give is perfect to me.” You weren’t going to make him spell it out for you, right? Not after last night.

You frown at that, “what if I don’t want to ‘just’ give you this?”

He finally looks away as he finds the courage to say, “what are you willing to give?” He’s treading carefully, he can’t mess up now.

“I don’t know.”

That stings. Are we back to playing games? So soon?

He’s tired of it. Forget tired, he’s exhausted from it. And all it took was one night to help him realize that he really doesn’t want to continue playing, not when it comes to you.

“Then, I would be happy for the time you spent together with me last night. I would be grateful it happened but I probably wouldn’t feel comfortable being that close to you again.”

Did he just say that? Maybe this was all a dream still. A cruel nightmare.

So he doesn’t want to move things further, is that what he’s saying? After all the moments you just shared, that’s all he’s got to say to you?

“I’m sorry I crossed the line then,” you need to go. Before you say something more and before he sees the tears that are just itching to be released.

You force out a laugh, “but thank you for being honest, I guess.”

You grab your plates and move towards the kitchen. Almost there, please don’t fall. He will not see you cry. God, you knew this was getting too good to be true. You knew it had to be a trick, you were back to square one! Man, you felt so stupid now. Did you really think one night would change everything?

You don’t realize he’s quick to go after you, grabbing your arm to face him. You let the plates crash on the sink, the sound startling him as you push his hold off you. You almost make it out the kitchen when he pulls you back again, this time pushing you against the counter standing chest to chest.

“No, you’re not listening to me.” He grabs you by the shoulders. Your heart is pounding furiously against your ribcage. You finally break down, “No, you’re not being honest.”

“If you had told me last night that I make you uncomfortable, I would have respected your boundaries, Jae.” You push down a sob, “If you had no intention of—of being that close—” You can’t even find the right words to express yourself. You spent so much time thinking about what you wanted to say earlier and now you couldn’t recall a single sentence.

He cuts you off with groan, “How can I make myself any more clear? What do you want me to say?” He lets go of you and takes a few steps back, “that it scares me? How much you know? How much you hold over me?”

“Hold over you?? You keep me at a distance! You always draw the line! Even last night, all you could do was excuse each and every one of your actions. What, you thought I wouldn’t catch that?? You don’t leave room for misunderstandings; you are crystal clear.”

You get close enough to poke his chest, “YOU—it was always you! I’ve always just been happy to go along at your pace. FOR YOU. And for years, too. So no, YOU don’t get to throw it back in my face like that. YOU—”

He pushes your hand away, “Me?! Ok no, you’re joking right? This push and pull cycle? I’m not the only one to blame and you know it! What about all those relationships you’ve been in? All those relationship questions you’d ask me, literally just a few weeks back! This is not entirely my fault either. Because guess what sweetheart, it takes two to tango.”

You’re so angry at upset, because how dare he?! Was he not the one that would sleep around in high school? The one that decided to study in a different freaking country?! Leaving you and your friends behind? Leaving the sport he oh so loved behind? He’s just running away again.

You don’t realize how hard you’re breathing and how close you’re standing until you can literally feel his breath on your lips. It’s the whisper you barely catch against the loud ringing in your ears, “You want me to be honest?”

You freeze.

“I’ll be honest with you, you can’t fault me for what I honestly need to do.”

Who made the first move, you’re not sure. But the moment his lips touched yours, it was game over.

EndNote | hahahaha... and there it is. Will there be more tension or are they finally gonna stop being so stubborn?? I honestly don't know, but this has to have been my favorite chapter to write 🙊

In the future, is it ok to post short but daily? Or would people rather I post the whole story in a single post?

Previous: Part 2 | Next: Part 4

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honestlyfrance · 3 years

Text

It Rains Every April 10th

ship: sam/bucky

warning: grief, depression, mcd, hurt/comfort

summary:

"I love you, baby," Sam had spoken, three words so sweetly spoken, an angel could've said it, and Bucky wouldn't mind if that meant that he had crossed to the other side and reached heaven, because it was Sam Wilson.

Bucky had twirled Sam once, the two of them sharing a laugh before he pulled the man closer by the waist. "I love you too, honey," he replied, making sure to put in much eye contact, to let his own eyes send the message his heart failed to say.

A sneak peek in the life of Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson to know the real reason why they think April 10 was a bad date.

—■—■—

Depression hits like a wave on a cliffside — sometimes you see it coming, sometimes you didn’t see it, and sometimes you just let it happen. It sometimes gnaws at your skin, always there, but more of a ghostly hand hovering over you; there’s that presence but you think you don’t have enough proof to prove it existed. Times like these you try your best to move but you become unmotivated, absolutely immobile except for the moments your body decides to exhaust itself for unrelated things you shouldn’t be doing. It takes a toll on you you wouldn’t even realize, and even then, who else realized it? You’re just tired. You don’t cry. You’re just tired.

It’s moments before dawn that the rain began to pick up, basking the entire scenery in a state of loneliness and tranquility, and it made everything more silent than before. Birds weren’t chirping, and all anyone could hear was the deafening downpour outside their windows. The bedroom is blanketed in blue lighting from the grey clouds outside, and the rain slips down the French windows and the slanting skylight. Bucky Barnes laid in bed, staring solemnly towards his windows with disdain, buried under his duvets. There are bags under his eyes, but they’re almost faint, and there’s a red tinge to his eyes, but he doesn’t feel discomfort from it; he felt as if whole, if anything. He’s just tired.

Bucky lets his eyes flutter shut, grunting as he buried himself deeper into the sheets, pulling his pillows to envelop every side of his body: his back, his chest, his head, his feet. He wanted warmth. It was too early to wake up. The faint smell of something icky wafted through the cold air and suddenly, all Bucky could think of was how slow time had passed by — he woke up before two in the morning, but his body felt as if it was midnight. It was dawn now, and he still hasn’t sat up. He rose and went, his consciousness blanking ever so often, and all he could think of was how numbed he was to the point that he couldn’t remember how many times he slept and woke up.

Bucky sat down in his tub, the cool but refreshing water pouring from the faucet. The bathroom was dim-lit and the orange lights bounced off of every reflective surface in the room. Here he sighed, watching the excess water go into the side drain, setting his head on the side of the tub. All he could ever hear was the sound of gushing water and the ache of his own heart, and there's that dread of going downstairs and actually living.

His dog suddenly pitter-pattered through the open door, suddenly sitting by the side of the tub. Bucky lazily looked back at the golden retriever. His eyes were barely opened as he spoke, “Roger, go back outside…” His voice was gruff and worn down, like a path down memory lane; so distant and faded that even the memory couldn’t recognize itself.

Bucky turned his head back towards the ceiling, and with a heavy sigh, he grabbed the tub by the side with his one hand and slid himself with a strong push, he lowered himself under the water, and there he felt free. There was nothing waiting for him down there and there was nothing worried for him down there. All he had in that tub was himself and his thoughts, and all his thoughts said to him was, “It’s April 10. You need to wake up.”

He needed to wake up.

Breakfast was quiet, and with every long drawn-out bite of his cereal was a much longer painful dread in Bucky’s chest, one that swallowed in itself for centuries before and centuries more. It’s a sickening twist to the plot and there’s nothing more emptying than feeling drowsy from one’s own solemn adventure. The outdoor lights filtered through the drawn open blinds and there they go, dancing on tabletops and the clean dishes left on the open sink like ballerinas, and there’s a piece of accompanying music that was dulled to a filtered flute of wind by the rain; water dripped against the windows and made the room look bluer than before, and the white walls seem to close in on Bucky, but he just kept on eating in his bathrobe, his one leg propped up on another chair as Roger sat on his hind legs beside him.

Bucky sighed with his mouth full as he waved his dog off. Roger goes dashing through the open doorway and into the other which led to the expansive library. Bucky didn’t want to look out into the window and see how beautiful the morning was, now that there was something so elegant to see when the whole world just drained itself out of color, and it all seemed unfair — a misuse of justice. Roger brought in a book, and Bucky couldn’t even look at the cover. The Masque Of The Red Death. His hands gripped the pocketbook, his mind fuming and his lips searing at the seams; he fumbled with the book and his muffled sobs, and he suddenly thrashed — he threw the book across the room, successfully breaking another picture frame that was hung on the opposite wall. Roger whimpered and set his head on Bucky's stomach, pawing at his hands until all Bucky gripped was the dog’s coat, gently and softly, feeling his heart squeezed out of life but he’s lightheaded. He’s not better now, but he feels like he could be.

Bucky whispered something to Roger's ear and he pets him, even gave him an extra treat.

It’s an unmistakable kind of brokenness that is almost like a “tell,” you know something is wrong, but they don’t fess up to it. Ending up with a game of cat and mouse, and both of you are chasing each other's tail, not knowing who is the culprit and the victim; both of you victimized yourselves because it was the only solution left. You weep at the mess you’ve made and that’s all that you can do. It’s all anyone’s ever done these days, and you shouldn’t apologize for it.

People should start screaming from the top of their rooftops and get that anger out of them, find a victim to mesmerize, and leave them for dead or nothing. Bucky wanted to drive off to the nearest cliff and scream his guts out, vomit his spine out, and just gouge his eyes out, because in a world where the skies seem bleaker — it wasn’t a world. It sounded like a page ripped off of the book of legends, burnt to a crisp, never to be seen again, and Bucky had hoped he would never see it, but then again, here he lies, almost dead and unhinged, mesmerized by the beauty of death to the point that he’d let her sleep in his room for the night.

Bucky would let death spend the night and pick at his skin, peeling it off of him like some sadist, wear his skin, even — let him have a bit of life, even if he was a puppet. There’s nothing more shameful than thinking of such atrocities, yet what other choice does he have? He couldn’t handle it anymore. He was pained, mourning, and helpless. If an angel went down from the skies and told him to jump off a cliff, Bucky would jump off a bridge; if a second angel came down and told him to get lost at sea, Bucky would get lost in a swamp; if a third angel came down for him and told him to suck a dick, Bucky would suck a shoe. Bucky thought he didn’t deserve the gentleness of suffering, so he let himself hurt worse than what was anticipated. So, he lost his leg, had another prosthetic, then he’d lost his sanity.

Out on the couch at the back porch that overlooked the vast fields of his property, he could feel the tiniest of pinpricks of rain whipping him in his face if it was not for the wall of crawling vines dangling from his rooftop. He set his foot on the coffee table, and right beside him was Roger, resting his head on Bucky’s lap. Bucky’s hand ran through his dog’s fur as he read another random chapter of Pride and Prejudice. He couldn’t say. He didn’t even notice. He’s been so out of it, he wouldn’t even realize the title of the book until he’d put it back into the bookshelf. Bucky’s mind had been empty except for anxious thoughts that he had become numb with the idea of surprises. He left his phone buried in the backyard because he didn’t want any unexpected calls.

His hands were calloused over the years of stressful work, eventually leaving him with thin and rugged fingers that feel pinpricks almost every second. His hands were once a thing of beauty, and ever since the accident, he couldn’t think much of it. All Bucky now wanted was to decay faster, to lie down on the grass, and feel moss crawl on his skin and declare himself one with the earth. Now that would be a thing of beauty.

His breath was slow and steady, turning into nothingness a few seconds here and then. Holding onto his breath was the only thing he knew he could hold onto and never let go of. It was the only thing he remembered to be tangible. It didn't use to be like this. Then again, April 10 didn't exist back then.

Sam Wilson would walk into the back porch right now, holding two mugs of hot chocolate, because he adored the rain with his whole heart, and as much he loved nature, that's how much he loved Bucky Barnes. Sam would now then sit right beside his husband and they'll stay snuggled together, bare legs intertwined together, and they'd be giggling like children at the warmth in their chests.

"Look, baby," Sam had said, pecking a quick kiss on Bucky's lips. Bucky's eyes would be overcome with stars that he'd become dizzy at the sensation, "Rain. Do you think it'll rain all day? The weatherman said only a 30% chance,"

Bucky had hummed into Sam's cheek, feeling the way Sam's skin tasted right on his lips. Bucky's mouth would trace the edges of Sam's jaw and the man would let him do more. "Maybe. Perhaps," he had breathed out, "Do you want to stay like this forever?"

Sam had laughed into Bucky's mouth, leaving another kiss that lasted a second longer now. It was sweet, and there were stars dispersing in their hearts. "What else am I going to do all day?"

They had spent the whole day like this: sneaking kisses like teenagers and sipping on hot chocolate like children. Their hearts grew as the rain poured stronger. The pitter-patter of downpour had drummed against their roof like bullets and all they could feel is how safe they were in the war with each other's arms wrapped around each other. It was their own kind of shield, and it was perfect .

That kind of day was now replaced with Bucky and Roger. Bucky would read a random book as Roger would look out into the backyard, longing to run around the rain, but Bucky needed Roger right beside him, and that's what the dog shall do.

READ MORE ON AO3

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #winterfalcon #france: works #france: writing #onlysambucky #sambuckyfic

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colormeyondublue · 3 years

Text

Chapter 7: We’ve Got A Problem

Chapter 6 Here

The next morning you awake to find the bed empty. You aren’t actually sure how many hours have gone by since you and Yondu fell asleep last night. You put your pants, bra and tank top on and head out to the front of the M-ship. There is morning light spilling through the viewports. You find Yondu sitting in the captain’s chair, shirtless, silently staring out the window.

“Yondu? What are you doing up here? Is everything okay?” He doesn’t answer you, and he doesn’t look at you. You lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Baby, is everything okay?”

“We need to go back to the ship.” He says plainly.

“Okay, that much I figured we would do at some point. But that doesn’t answer my question. Are you okay? What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing. Strap in.” He says coldly.

You stare daggers at him as he walks back to the room you slept in the night before to get his shirt and duster. No. No way, we are not doing this.

“No.”

He comes back out of the room, fully dressed, frustration apparent on his face. “What did ya just say ta me girlie?”

“No. We are not leaving this planet until we talk about this.” You reach over to the ignition panel and pull the starter chip from it’s port. Kraglin taught you a thing or two about M-Ship maintenance. Hotwiring and disabling ignition systems was something you didn’t think you would ever use on Yondu, but this needed settled. You stuffed the small chip into your bra and crossed your arms.

Yondu looked at you with the same ferocity in his eyes that you complimented him on just last night. “Yer gonna regret that sweetheart.” He said between clenched teeth.

“I don’t care. Do your worst. But Yondu, I have seen this before a hundred times with men back on Earth. You’re gonna try to bottle up whatever it is you’re feeling until you blow up in a few days time. I do not have the patience for this. If you didn’t know yet, I am about as stubborn as you are. So, you’re gonna tell me what the problem is. Sit.” You pat the bench you sit down on to encourage him to sit next to you.

“Give me that starter back darlin’. Ya don’t know what yer getting yerself into.”

“No.” You say, with a little immaturity in your voice.

“Y/n, give. Me. That. Starter.” He says as he’s getting a little more annoyed. He starts toward you, and you jump from where you’re sitting.

You try to stay serious, but you can’t help a little giggle that escapes your lips and you dart away from him. You run across the back of the ship and position yourself on the other side of the small dining table near the food storage cabinets.

Yondu approaches you casually, a smirk on his lips. “Honey, yer gonna lose this little game a yers. I promise ya that.”

“Try me.” You taunt.

The two of you try to outwit each other for a few minutes, your slight giggling has evolved into full blown laughter. You can’t control it, your arms are legs are getting weak because you are laughing so hard. Yondu uses this as an opportunity to gain the upper hand. “Git over here!” He darts your direction and you squeal and make a dash for the bedroom. Just before you can close the door behind you, he jumps through the door and tackles you to the bed. After a soft and bouncy landing, you are both laughing now.

“Ya gonna give up?” He asks.

“Never. I need to know what was bothering you. Please.” You press a soft and loving kiss to his lips.

He looks over your face admiringly. Seemingly to take in every little detail. He sighs, “I just been thinking too much. And I think I’m confused. And I’m worried. I may seem tough and confident on the outside, but there are times where I’m unsure of maself and the decisions I make.”

“Oh, well everyone gets that way sometimes. That’s okay. I overthink stuff sometimes too…do you wanna tell me what you were overthinking?”

“Yeah – I just wonder if my life is something you should really be apart of. Being a Ravager is dangerous and exhausting. If anything happened to you, I wouldn’t forgive maself. I wonder if there are better things out there fer ya. Maybe I could take ya back ta Terra, and ya could find yer family. Maybe start over?”

You just stared at him, waiting to see if he would say more.

“I’m starting to feel…things…fer ya, and I’ve made some pretty stupid mistakes in my life. I just don’t want my mistakes to come back ‘round and hurt ya. I don’t deserve love. I don’t deserve a happy ending. My mistakes will follow me for the rest of my life. I just want ya to be safe and happy.

“Okay, I’m gonna just stop you there. You are not getting rid of me, Yondu. I’ve got a job to do on your ship, and I’m going to do it. If you think that the two of us being together might cause issues with the crew, we can address that when the time comes. And do not even think for a second you do not deserve to be loved and find happiness. Saying that you don’t deserve love is like saying I don’t deserve love. Do you think I don’t deserve love?”

Yondu didn’t even take a breath before answering. “A’ course, you do darlin’. You deserve everythin’. The stars and all the moons and all the colors of the cosmos.”

“See? You deserve that too…in my most unbiased and humble opinion.” You finished with a wink and a quick peck to his lips. “Come on, what do ya say we head back to the Eclector?” You reach deep into your bra to pull out the starter chip and place it in Yondu’s hand.

“What am I gonna do with ya?” Yondu sighs as he heads back to the cockpit to get the ignition going.

~~~

Back aboard the Elector, you and Yondu are exiting the Warbird in the main docking bay. Yondu made a comment about the little stunt you pulled that morning, and you both laugh together. Kraglin was approaching the two of you at that moment.

“Well, I suppose the two of you had a nice time.” He said with a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

You speak up before Yondu could say anything. “We did! The planet was so amazing, and I got to see things I never thought possible. It was wonderful.”

“Well that’s nice.” Kraglin turns to Yondu, “Sir, I’ll need ta be speakin’ with ya about some things…in yer quarters if that’s alright.”

“Everythin’ alright? Is there a problem?”

“Yeah…ya could say that.” Kraglin says with a frown.

“Captain…” you say.

Yondu turns to look back at you and quietly shakes his head as walks in the direction of his cabin with Kraglin. With that, you decided to head back to your cabin to get settled back in. As you walk back, your thoughts were spinning. What could Kraglin have been talking about? Why didn’t Yondu want you to come with them?

Back in Yondu’s cabin, Kraglin was fidgeting where he stood while the Captain changed and got settled in as well. He emerges from his private bathroom with a tired look on his face. “What’s goin’ on Krags? He asked.

“Well, sir, the boys…they been talkin’.”

“Talkin’ ‘bout what, exactly?”

“They was wonderin’ ‘bout y/n. They say she’s been here a while, and no one is allowed a chance at her. Some of them boys is sayin’ some nasty things ‘bout you, sir, and her. I’m not sure how safe it is ‘round some of ‘em. I reminded ‘em a their place…but there are a few men who didn’t seem to get the message.”

Yondu pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “I’ll go talk ta y/n, let her know what’s goin’ on. I had a feelin’ this shit was comin. Damn it.”

“Cap’n, try not to worry too much. I’m always around. I’ll keep my eyes and ears peeled fer any other talkin’.”

~~~

As you’re readying yourself for bed, you hear a soft knocking on your door. You open it to find a slightly distressed Yondu. He steps inside and closes the door before you have a chance to say anything.

“Yondu, what’s going on. What did Kraglin say?”

“Honey…there ain’t no easy way to put this…but you were right. There is goin’ ta be problems with the crew. It ain’t safe fer you here. I’m settin’ a course fer Terra after we meet our client at Knowhere.” Yondu starts pacing the room with almost a panicked expression. He is totally overwhelmed with his thoughts. You’ve never seen him act this way before.

“Yondu, Yondu. Hold on.” You step closer to him with your hands out. He keeps pacing past you. “Yondu, calm down. It’s going to be okay. I don’t have to go back to Terra. We can handle this.”

“Y/n, ya don’t understand. I don’t even want ta tell ya what could happen. These men…they ain’t all like me n’ Krags. They ain’t all like Tullk or Oblo or Geff. Some of ‘em will not hesitate to hurt ya. Some of ‘em ain’t as loyal ta me as they say they are!” His panicked expression is quickly turning to anger at the thought of the possibilities. Yondu continues, “Not only do they wanna get ta you, but they wanna get to me. There’s been talk of a possible mutiny for months…even before you came aboard. I thought it had quietened down…but I was wrong.”

“Baby…please calm down. Come here.” You grab him by the wrists and look into his eyes. They are laced with a mixture of anger and fear. You pull him into you, and he wraps his arms around you. With a deep breath you say, “We can figure this out. There has to be another way. There has to be.”

“I just don’t see how.” He says as he rubs your back with his strong hands. “I’m willin’ to listen yer ideas, but if things get too dangerous, you have to promise me you’ll go back ta Terra. I’ll even help ya find yer family. If anything happened to ya…I would never forgive maself.”

You lean back to look him in the face again. You reach up to gently trace the scars on his face. “We will figure this out. I know we will.”

"I'm gonna call a meeting tomorrow afternoon and address the crew." He says after a few moments of silence.

"What will you say to them?" You ask.

"I'm not sure yet...but I'll come up with somethin'."

"What if...", you start, "what if you're just honest?"

"What do ya mean?" Yondu asks.

"Well...I know we have only been seeing each other for a few weeks now, and I don't want to rush anything, but what if we came clean? What if you just told them why they aren't allowed at me? I'm sure the title of "Captain's girl" would be enough to drive the point home. Back on my home planet, belonging in a relationship with someone was often enough to deter people from making any moves. Maybe that will help?"

Yondu starts to ponder this idea. He walks over to your bed and sits down. He takes a deep breath and lets out a heavy sigh as he rubs his eyes. "It's possible" is all he says.

"I'm going to leave it up to you. I don't want to rush anything or force your hand, but if it puts an end to this nonsense, I'm game. And besides, if the whole ship knew we're an item, we wouldn't have to sneak around anymore. I could come to your cabin whenever I please." You sit down next to him and place a hand on his knee. You lean into his neck to place a few light kisses behind his ear.

"Mmmm...that actually sounds really nice. My girl bein' at my beck and call?" He turns to press his lips to yours. You deepen the kiss and pull him into you by his duster. He leans back and sensually licks his lips. "Your beck and call huh?" You ask with a little smirk.

"Mhm. If I plan on tellin' the crew yer mine, I plan on really makin' ya mine."

#Yondu and The Secretary #yondu x reader #Yondu Udonta #Marvel #gotg fanfiction #ravager #captain

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glassartpeasants · 4 years

Text

I Can Give You Everything...

Overhaul x F!Reader x Chronostasis

Warnings: Angst, cheating, kissing, sad boi hours for reader and chrono

A/N: Man i tried to make one where chisaki cried but I can’t man. I’ve done it a few times but this shit just hits different ya know? I also really hated this so enjoy. I’ll start that Lovely fic once this is posted

(BF/N) = best friends name

~~~

That gorgeous bastard. No matter how many times he hurts you, you still can’t get enough of him and his golden eyes. He always made you feel safe but safety is just an accessory when you're too busy hanging out with your girlfriends best friend. Laughing at her jokes and her stories.

“Why doesn’t he laugh at me like that?” You question when you sit at the table with your best friend who happened to date chrono while you were dating Chisaki.

You pretty much said nothing as you watched your boyfriend and best friend look at each other in a less than modest manner. You put your face in the palm of your hand as you looked at chrono. Who also seemed a little peeved. Hey at least you two had something in common. You try to figure out something that would take your mind off the scene in front of you.

It was no doubt they were flirting. It was so obvious. Right in front of you and Chrono too. You felt some tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You just couldn’t handle it. It hurt seeing the man you love making advantages towards your best friend.

You stand up and walk out of the office without a word. Slamming the door behind you. Your footsteps ring throughout the compound. Your vision blurring every second you get closer to your room. Your tears streaming down your face, hiccups erupting from your throat.

Once entering your room you shut the door before sitting on the edge of your bed, grabbing a pillow letting your tears drench it. Squeezing with all your might thinking it was someone who would at least sympathise with you. A faint knocking on the door interrupted your crying session.

“Who is it?” You say, not being able to hide the sadness in your trembling voice.

“Hari.”

“Come in.” You watch as the door opens as Hari stepped in, closing the door behind him before sitting on the bed. You looked at him and he looked at you. Before you could say anything you clung to him and started to ball your eyes out. You didn’t know why. Sure you’ve had a few conversations with Hari but you wouldn’t consider you guys friends but, it felt nice. Being able to hug someone. Kai never hugged you and your best friend had recently stopped hugging you as well.

“I know, it sucks. I'm in the same boat.” He hugged you back as you sobbed into his neck.

“Am I just not good enough? What did I do wrong?” Your tears kept coming. As you shake in Hari’s arms. You were so busy crying that you almost didn’t notice the few drops of water that fell on your shoulder. Almost.

You knew what it was before you even looked. You rubbed his back trying to calm him down. You both were crying and trying to comfort the other. Weird yes. But it just felt nice to be held as if someone cared about you. Hari started to slip away to your discomfort but you let him go anyways. You both look at one another, your faces red as it looked like you’ve been crying for hours.

“Uh thanks I guess I kinda needed that-” You both turned silent after you heard the familiar voices of Kai and (BF/n). You both placed your ears to the door trying to pick up and conversations at all. Your body filled with anger once you heard how much shit they were talking.

“Shush, we don’t know if they’re near. We can’t have them finding out.” Kai said in a low voice, obviously trying not to get caught. Well that didn’t matter now did it. Before you could think of a plan, Hari burst open the door. Looking furious. Can you blame him though?

“Are you fucking serious Kai?! Your fucking my girlfriend?!” Hari screamed at Kai. It was the first time you’ve ever seen Hari raise his voice at Kai.

“WHy were you there with my girlfriend?!”

“I don’t know, maybe comforting her when she was balling her eyes out!” Hari growled as he grabbed you and pulled you towards him.

“Hari sweetie I promise it’s not what it looks like!” (BF/n) tried to reason with him. Letting go of Kai to go over to Hari before Hari shoved her back towards him. You didn’t say anything, hell you didn’t know what to say.

“How long?” Har said as he looked them both dead in the eyes. Neither of them spoke.

“I said how long damnit!”

“5 months!” (BF/N) whimpered. She looked at Hari with tears in her eyes.

“(Y/N) come on, let's leave these two to their devices.” Kai said as he turned around waiting for you to follow him. He started walking waiting to hear your footsteps behind him. But there wasn’t. He turned to look at you and saw that you stood still by Hari.

“(y/n) come.”

“She’s not your fucking dog Kai.” They looked at each other with slowly burning hatred. You figured you had to do something before Kai hurted Chrono.

You grabbed Hari’s hand and began to walk out of the compound. You looked down at the ground while still hearing Hari’s screams at Kai. You tugged him closer as you walked out the door. Your cheeks stung as the cold air from the winter was approaching, making them red as they were nipped by the frost. Your ears cold as the wind blew at them. You wish you didn’t hear it. You wish you hadn’t heard the hurt and betrayal that was laced in Hari’s voice.

~~~

You sat on the hotel bed while listening to Hari rant. I mean could you blame him? His childhood friend betrayed him by sleeping with his girlfriend, and your lover slept with yours. It was a lose lose situation. Now you have no one to talk to other then the man standing in front of you.

You let out a sigh before hearing a thu hitting the ground. You look down and saw Hari on his knees crying. Without thinking you dash towards him and hug tightly which he quickly returned. You couldn’t help but let your own tears slide down your face.

“What does he have that I don’t?” He cried into your shoulder. It hurt to watch truly. A man once proud and tall without no fear break down in front of you. Hari was just as good as Kai when it came to hiding emotions. So to see him collapse to the floor was a surprise. But you hugged him nonetheless.

“Hari, don’t change who you are for someone that’s not going to be loyal. Once a cheater, always a cheater.” You say softly to him as you rubbed circles on his back. It was the least you could do after he comforted you last time. He hugged you tighter the before.

“Do you think that if I asked her to marry me she would have continued?” You furrow your brows and you looked at him.

“You were gonna ask her to marry you?”

“Was. But do you think she would have?” He looked at you, eyes red from all the crying. Confused would be an understatement.

“If she didn’t and you still found out she cheated on you before you got married, what would you have done?”

“Dumped her i suppose...”

“And if she did I’m guessing you would have dumped her as well?”

“Yeah.”

“So either way it was a lose lose. We both lost in their game they had us in. Going in circles trying to please our lovers when they never wanted anything to do with us. We would have found out sooner or later so It was best that we found out now.” You say as you brush one of his arrows away from his face.

“Did she leave me because my quirk-”

“No. Even if she was doing it because of that then she’s an idiot. Hari, you may see your quirk as a bad one but I see it in a different way. You arrows only need to hit a person once and their done for. They can’t fight if they can’t move. Plus you have options to choose from, one hour or one minute. Both of them still makes you win in the end.”

“It only works when I’m not moving though...”

“So? That’s why your known for your stealth. You may think your quirk sucks but if you use it just right then it can be more dangerous then you ever thought it could be. Its a shame that you don’t see that because that’s what i see.” You smile down at him as he looks at you with wide eyes. He never thought about the words you said. He was to busy thinking about how he wished he had a better quirk. How could you be so kind to him even though your quirkless. You looked at his quirk like it was just as destructive as Kai’s.

What was Kai thinking? How could he throw away a whole relationship with someone who knew how to say the right things? You were so kind to him even though you went through the exact same thing he was going through right now. You were so calm. So composed.

“How can you be so calm about this?”

“Guess I’m just use to it. Kai isn’t the most romantic. We were slowly drifting apart for awhile anyways haha. I could kinda sense he was losing feelings and-”

“Falling for (BF/N)?”

“Yeah...yeah he was. But that’s okay. It all happens for a reason. You and I will find the right one someday, it may not be today but thats okay.” Your sweet words felt like honey to his ears. Your voice was so calming, so much kindness in one person and Kai threw it away.

“Thank you (y/n), it really means a lot.”

“Hey we gotta stick together now, we both got fucked over by our best friends haha.” You laugh trying to lighten the mood. You looked at the man whos head rested on your shoulder smiling gently. You soon felt a hand grab your cheek.

Hari cupped your cheek as he looked at you. He should be sad, he should be mourning. But he can’t help but want you. Wanting you to be by his side. With that said Hari leaned up and gently placed his lips on yours.

You were surprised but didn’t pull away. You didn’t want to. Your eyes flutter shut as you relax into the kiss. Its funny since you can’t even remember the last time Kai kissed you. Or if he even kissed you at all.

The kiss ended to soon for both of your liking but you guys just wanted to test the boundaries. Which were soon crossed when you both left for another kiss. A kiss that felt like something way stronger then lust could ever be. This felt real,

this felt like it was meant to be.

#chronostasis x reader #overhaul x reader #mha #bnha #chisaki overhaul #kai chisaki x reader #chronostasis #chisaki x reader #kai chisaki #kurono #kurono hari x reader #kurono hari #hari kurono x reader #hari kurono #mha angst #bnha angst

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author-morgan · 4 years

Note

I don't know if you accept requests, if yes, could you write a smut on Ivarr x fem!reader?

maybe the continuation of that work of yours where Ivarr gives flowers to his crush. thank you♥️

here you are! i hope you enjoy it!

Ivarr the Boneless x fem!Reader

TWISTED LAUGHTER FILLS the forest —the morning mist still clinging to the leaves and soil. You press your back against one of the trees, the wide trunk large enough to hide you from your hunter. The air grows still, save for distant birdsong. Branches snap underfoot. Drawing in a slow breath, you dash forward, hiding behind another tree as you listen for footfalls, crunching leaves, and snapping twigs.

The underbrush rustles behind you, and this time you are not quick enough. An arm wraps around your waist, and you turn to face your hunter. His eyes are a bright blue —the same shade as when bloodlust sets in— and his lips kinked into a wicked smile. Ivarr the Boneless has you ensnared. Anyone else would shit themselves if caught by Ivarr, but not you —no, this was only a game. You lay a hand on his chest, fingertips pressing into his left breast through the thin linen of his tunic. “What are you doing, little bird?” He croons, but his answer is only a taunting smirk as you push away from him, darting back into the mist.

You watch for his shadowed figure and dance from tree to tree, laughing as he draws nearer. Leaning your head back against a sapling, you smile upward at the heavens —blue sky breaking through the clouds. Ivarr’s footfalls are close. Taking a deep breath, you make a run for it, not quite ready for this game of yours to end so quickly. Ivarr springs into the opening, both his arms snaking around your waist. There will be no escape this time. You twist in his hold, meeting his manic gaze and grin.

Thinking to distract him, you push yourself close, rising onto the balls of your feet —lips ghosting across his. Ivarr dips his head down, but you pull away. The back-and-forth teasing lasts only a few more seconds before he gives a soft groan, lips firmly meeting yours. His kiss is merciless and demanding. Rough hands trail down your bare arms, around to your back, and down to your thighs. You gasp into his mouth when he hoists you up, legs wrapping around his waist —lips never parting until your back hits the nearest tree.

“Nowhere to run now,” Ivarr whispers at your ear, pinning you to the trunk with his hips, one hand braced on the rough bark next to your head. He tilts your head to the side, a finger trailing across your jaw and down your neck, following the neckline of your dress. The shivers creeping down your spine and turning your skin to gooseflesh sends a thrill through Ivarr. His lips take the same path —nipping and suckling, all of Mercia will know of you and Ivarr given the marks he leaves.

You press a finger to his lips, keeping him from kissing you again. He can read the look in your lust-darkened eyes. Not here. A hard lesson learned from a previous romp in the woods where you both spent the following days scratching at rashes from stinging nettle. “Ivarr!” You cry as he hoists you over his shoulder, giving your bottom a light slap —laughing as he takes the forest path back to Repton.

“A glorious hunt,” Ivarr announces as he strides past his brother with you still strung across his shoulder. It is not a new sight to those settled in Repton. Since the last harvest festival, you and Ivarr had not shied away from affection —often playing these games, returning with cornflowers and twigs clinging to your clothes and hair. “Now I go enjoy my spoils.” Ubba Ragnarsson shakes his head, returning his attention to the fading map of Mercia laid out before him.

Ivarr places you amid the furs and rough-sewn pillows of his canvas bower and quickly sinks to his knees, pushing the skirt of your dress up around your waist like a giddy boy unwrapping a present. Lifting your arms, he rids you of the plain woolen dress and the bindings around your chest. His hands float along your curves until he comes to your breasts, flattening his hands against them. Ivarr groans, palming the mounds of flesh and tweaking your nipples into taut little peaks as his lips drag across your jaw.

“Fuck,” you gasp, moving your hips against his, gasping at the feeling of him pressing against you through his britches. When his hands slip back to your hips and backside, you lean forward, stroking the patchy scruff on his jaw and scattering short kisses across his neck and scarred chest. “This is payback, isn’t it?” You ask, arching into Ivarr’s touch. He laughs, lips kinked into a smile —you have your answer.

His hand moves to the sensitive spot between your legs, making sure you can feel every movement he makes. “Ivarr,” you breathe in a heady tone, causing him to grin. He pulls away from your breast and stares up at you, at the building ecstasy in your eyes. Ivarr drags his tongue down your torso, his mouth clamping over your clit, kissing it furiously. Your eyes roll back; you are caught in his touch, his mouth, his tongue. Whimpering, you scratch your hands into his tunic, pulling the fabric upwards. “Ivarr!” you cry, panting. “Oh, please–” But he pulls away again, and you let out a whine. The smirk unfolding across Ivarr’s face is unbearable —his lips glistening with your essence.

Sitting back on his haunches, Ivarr pulls his tunic off and wiggles out of his britches. He wraps his hands around your ankles —gentle shackles— tugging you closer to the edge of the pallet bed. “Tell me what you want, little bird.” He says, eyes darting across you splayed out beneath him —nipples hard and pink, lovebites blossoming at your shoulder and neck.

“I want you, Ivarr,” you breathe, tracing one of the runes tattooed on his abdomen until your hand slips further down. Reaching between your bodies, you wrap your fingers around his cock. When he hisses through clenched teeth, you smile. Lips against his as you begin stroking him. It takes a moment before he returns to his senses, and when he does, he pins your hands at the sides of your head. His length is heavy, pressed against your core, and slowly you roll your hips up into his. The look he gives you is meant to scold the action, but you only continue.

He frees one of his hands and slides it lightly between your breasts and down further, lining himself up with you and pushing in slowly. His lips seal over yours and capture your groan of desperation and pleasure as he stretches you. You moan and squirm beneath him, but he has you exactly where he wants you. Ivarr can’t help but swear softly at the feeling of your body around him.

As he begins to roll his hips, sliding out and then back inside you, he groans at your ear and shifts his weight upwards again, hands pressing yours into a wolf pelt. You’re lost then, lost in the pleasure of his movements, the thrill of the weight of his body on yours as he sets your body and senses alight. His hands are at your breasts, your hips, then one hand is at your clit while the other pulls lightly at your hair. Your hands dig into his shoulders and scratch down his back —the brief jolt of pain spurs Ivarr on.

It’s only as his fingers are working on your clit and coaxing you towards release that you realize he is moaning your name. It’s soft at first, but his mouth is at your ear, and you can hear it. Ivarr is coming apart inside you, and your name is the one on his lips. You smile and turn your head, catching him off guard in a kiss, legs parting wider and drawing up his sides.

Your toes curl, and what you might have thought was downright impossible became a reality as your orgasm begins to build, coming to a frantic, heated peak quickly that he keeps you at for the entire time he possesses you, holding your thighs tightly so you cannot escape from him. “Ivarr,” your voice sounds foreign to your ears. He wraps an arm around the curve of your waist and brings the both of you to lie on your side, his cock still sliding in and out of you —scarred face twisting as he chases his end with wild abandon.

His hands are on your back while one of yours rests on his powerful thigh and the other on his cheek. Your mouth falls open as a primitive noise comes from both you and Ivarr, though he stifles the obscene sounds by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. Hips stuttering, he pauses —panting as his cock twitches deep in your heat, but then he gives several more, lazy thrusts before stilling completely and pulling you a little closer. “You,” Ivarr pants through breathy laughter, “have ruined me, woman.” All of Mercia must have known by now Ivarr Ragnarsson had gone soft for a baker and farmer.

It is not often Ivarr speaks of a defeat so lightly. “Ah–” you smile, running your fingertips along the edge of the tattoo wrapping around his bicep “–so I’ve defeated the great Ivarr the Boneless?” You ask, teasing. Grinning, you careen forward, giving his scarred cheek a quick kiss.

Ivarr’s blue eyes darken and narrow. He is not one to accept defeat. “I demand a rematch then,” he says, rough hand running up your spine and twisting into your hair.

You’ve no doubt another round would put him on top in this back-and-forth game, but after running through the woods and being fucked properly, nothing sounds better than curling up with Ivarr for a nap. “What say I bake an apple tart, and we call it even?” You offer, knowing between honey cakes and apple tarts, you could almost always get your way with Ivarr.

He groans, thinking of the sweet taste of apples and spices baked in a flaky dough —there is still a store of apples from last autumn tucked away below the Repton cathedral. Ivarr’s lips twitch into a smile. The only thing sweeter than your apple tarts was you. “You drive a hard bargain,” he remarks.

“I’ll let you think it over,” you tell him with a soft laugh and quick kiss before settling your head on his chest. Ivarr glances up at the sunlight streaming in through the seams of his tent and sighs, tracing runes and constellations on your back and shoulder. After a few moments, he glances down at you —fast sleep— and begins to wonder if Ubba’s new dream in England is really so bad after all.

[taglist: @kvitravn @elizabethroestone @kitkitvm @elluvians @fullmoonwolfer1 @ghostieisalone @boodaga @southsideslutt @dynamite-with-a-lazerbeam ]

if you want to be added to my Ivarr taglist just let me know!

#Ivarr #Ivarr the Boneless #Ivarr Ragnarsson #Ivarr x Reader #Ivarr Ragnarsson x Reader #Ivarr the Boneless x Reader #Ivarr Fanfiction #Ivarr Imagine #Assassin's Creed Valhalla #Assassin's Creed #my writing #requested #ghostieisalone #100 points if you know what i was inspired by in the opening part of this ficlet lol

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chowtrolls · 3 years

Text

Inferno

Length: 2155 Words TW: General Violence, brief mention of drugs. Brief: Boe causes problems for Bruuno. Credits: there's a reference to the Divine Comedy.

Google Docs

Bruuno knew the office building like the back of his hand. Walking in through the back cargo entrance was the easiest way in. The violet guard had basically watched Bruuno grow up and actually smiled as he passed. He towered over the violet at this point but always felt a small connection to the stranger, and made a point of smiling back. The elevator complained loudly when Bruuno stepped inside. The elevator only had twelve buttons. The thirteenth button was disguised as the emergency alarm. It was muscle memory by now, Bruuno held the alarm as it rang for fourty five seconds. The alarm stopped and the elevator started to go up.

It opened into a dimly lit hallway. Expensive art decorated the walls, each painting in the same exact spot as it had been the first time Bruuno walked past them. They always had a way of making him feel small. Chilly air encouraged him to stuff his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The secretary was gone, but the door to Boe's office was unlocked, so Bruuno invited himself inside.

"Hello, Bruuno. Always a treat to see you. How are you? It's been ages." Boe's voice filled the silence immediately. The jade had been waiting, standing in the center of his wide office. He always spoke too much. Despite being spoken to, Bruuno instantly knew something was wrong. There was a deafening silence. More notably, there was no fuchsia wriggler jumping up and bodyslamming him while laughing.

"Where's Shi?" Bruuno turned to the jade with a look of confusion. Boe's relaxed smile planted a seed of worry in the fuchsia's chest. His shoulders lifted slightly in a nonchalant shrug, as if they were discussing the location of a book and not a child.

"She's safe." Boe's voice, smooth as silk and honey, did nothing to ease the growing concern.

"I didn't ask if she was safe." Bruuno stepped closer to Boe, brow furrowed, "I asked where she was."

"And I asked how you were. You've been clean for a while, isn't that nice?" Boe closed the gap between him and his former charge. Bruuno's intimidation attempt went entirely ignored, the jade was seemingly unafraid of anything Bruuno may do. Boe's hands left his pockets so he could straighten the fuchsias' jacket, closing it slightly. "Your little moirails helped with that, right? Awfully sweet of them. You really owe them one."

"I don't owe anyone shit." Bruuno didn't stop Boe from touching him, but made no effort to hide the hostility in his voice. "Boznik, where is Shiloh?"

"Mmm, wrong there buddy. You still owe me." Boe smiled and patted Bruuno's chest, knowingly ignoring the constant pestering over Shiloh. Bruuno's expression must have been blatantly confused once again, because Boe laughed. The jade turned away from the conversation, walking over to his desk. He straightened out some papers as he continued.

"I only let you go because you became a liability. Became sloppy! Messy! Hard to fix your mistakes. You must've thought you were so smart, blaming that pesky little addiction problem on your matesprit. I knew what you were doing, Bru. You're not as clever as you think you are." Boe snickered softly as he spoke. Normally an unprofessional move, but Boe didn't care too much for the formalities when it came to his former charge. "I saw what you did to that other little fish, Klasha's brother. Both arms! Impressive! Ripped them off like they were nothing! Now Bruuno, that is the man I raised." Boe paused and looked up from his desk. Bruuno's silence was deafening as the horror started to sink in.

"I let you have your little fun. I helped you, even. You got to have your fifteen minutes of fame. You seadwellers live for so long...it really was just fifteen minutes out of that ancient lifespan of yours. And be honest with yourself Bru, who do you think helped you get there?" Boe's voice got softer, near a whisper, "I spared your life. I gave you fame. I let you have this glorious little life. And now you have to pay me back."

Each word that left Boe's mouth was a dash of salt on the ever growing wound. Anger started like milk on the stove, it always did. Slowly and slowly heating. One had to keep their eye on the pot every second it was there. It was so easy to just glance away for a moment, but doing so would cause the entire pot to boil over. Bruuno's anger was the same, growing slowly and unchecked until the pot boiled over and the contents burned everything around it.

"I never fuckin' asked you to spare me." Speaking between his teeth did little to hide the venom dripping from his voice. "I would've fuckin' preferred you didn't. But I didn't get a fuckin' say in any of this." Bruuno's fins pressed down flat like a cornered cat's ears.

"Well, that's unfortunate." Boe's smirk faded into an unamused frown. Any normal troll would've thought twice about being alone in a room with such a furious highblood. Boe knew better than anyone how catastrophic highblood rage could be. And yet, he stood before Bruuno, cool as a cucumber, collected as ever. He knew in his heart that Bruuno was a pushover, too soft to cause problems or stir the pot. Boe knew the troll he raised, how could he not?

Just as Boe knew Bruuno would never hurt him, Bruuno knew the jade would never harm Shiloh. There was an unspoken line between them that neither would dare to cross. Shiloh happened to stand directly on that line. Despite his rage, Bruuno knew Shiloh would be fine. She was most likely with Chowow, or Kamuuk, and they just hadn't told him. She certainly hadn't a single clue what was going on. Good, because this wasn't about her. His anger was less about Shiloh, and more the sheer audacity. The gall that Boe possessed to even dream of having that control over Bruuno's life. As the two stared each other down, Boe felt safe. Secure. He was certain that Bruuno would bend to his whim. After all, the fuchsia seemed to bend however someone wanted him to, why would he do any differently to Boe?

Boe's sense of security held Bruuno in his place. He felt small, smaller than he ever had in his entire life, because he knew what Boe thought of him. A passive troll who simply wishes to please everyone, who has no self worth beyond what he can present to others. He had done so much to get to where he was in life. Even if Boe really WAS pulling the strings, Bruuno was happy. He was genuinely happy with his life, the path he was heading down. For the first time in sweeps, Bruuno finally felt like he was healing. He no longer lamented over the torment he caused others, and the days spent awake wondering if karma would present itself with glittery fins once more seemed rare now. The pot of anger had boiled over moments ago, and was starting to burn in Bruuno's chest. One can never remember pain, brains aren't programmed to remember pain, but the raw burning in his lungs was so painstakingly familiar. It was an infection he covered up so well he started to believe it was really gone. An infection he had for so long that he almost felt empty when he covered it that well. Now that the anger fought through the makeshift gauze of happiness, Bruuno realized he missed it, in the same way someone misses a toxic friend or a migraine they had for too long. It had become a piece of him.

Bruuno remembered snippets from working under Boe, but more importantly he remembered how much he hated it. He hurt so many trolls for no reason beyond being told to. He was taught how to hold a gun before he was taught how to write. He learned the best methods of a hidden execution before he learned how to cook. The best took for pulling fingernails, pressure points to incapacitate someone, the direction to aim a weapon so it looked like an accident. From the best cleanup crew to call, to the safest places to dump a body, and the best excuses to tell a drone. Everything Boe taught him centered around pain and violence. Destroy lives and cause destruction for the sake of money and power. Breaking bones and shooting trolls at point blank did nothing but cause anxiety and depression, and created the insecurity that allowed Bubble to seep into his life like a virus. Bruuno was never happy with who he was or what he was doing. Who was Boe to decide if Bruuno got to be happy or not? Only Bruuno could decide that.

And Bruuno decided that he did deserve to be happy. That he didn't deserve this; not from Boe, or Bubble, Carina, the Empire, Shrivo, anyone else. He was worthy of being happy. And he didn't need to make himself valuable to others to be worthy of it.

By the time Bruuno had come to this mental conclusion, Boe had started and nearly finished another cheesy and demented monolog. He strolled right up to Bruuno once more, chattering away while folding some boring origami crane. At the end, he just crumpled the crane up in a dramatic show of power. It was apparent that he thought of himself as some kind of villain, that the hero in this story would do as every hero does. No hero would ever harm the villain, because that'd make them equal and just as evil.

But Bruuno was not Aeneas, nor was he Paul. There was hardly anything heroic about him.

"So, you see my point, Bru? Just a pawn in the game of life. An important pawn to some, sure. But you, too, can be so easily crushed." Boe's smile was sinister, but frankly Bruuno found it annoying. The burning anger had created the desire, no, the need to destroy, to break things.

The fuchsia silently looked at the crumpled paper in Boe's palm. After a moment, he gingerly took the crane from Boe. It was so small in his hand, so fragile, but he still craved to demolish it. Boe's smile returned, obviously pleased that his words stuck with his charge. That was, until Bruuno dropped the crane without a care and instead grabbed onto Boe's robotic wrist with one hand, and the opposite shoulder with his free hand. Without hesitating, Bruuno destroyed. He tore Boe's arm off, just as he had done with Meduza. The prosthetic came off like a breeze, but it was obviously never meant to, permanent prosthetics are so expensive and difficult to replace so they were secured in the socket so neatly. There was nothing neat about it now. Boe's expression was horrified. If he made a sound, Bruuno didn't hear it. All he heard was the crumbling of metal and the tear of flesh. The prosthetic may have been sturdy once but it bent and folded under the pressure of Bruuno's closing fist. The jagged parts of the metal cut his hand but the pain was a welcomed feeling, grounding almost.

The arm dropped unceremoniously to the floor, and Boe did too. Jade started to pool under him and stained his white button down. Boznik tried to prop himself up and move away, but was pushed back down by Bruuno's foot.

The weight of an 8 foot fuchsia on his chest was nothing compared to the weight of the trauma that hovers over Bruuno's heart constantly.

"How's that fer the man you raised? Still like 'im?" Bruuno's expression was deadpan as he spoke, with just enough weight on Boe's chest to hurt. "A real fuckin' asshole, ain't he? Takes after his lusus. Y'know how it is. Like lusus like son, eh?" A bitter laugh escaped, and only grew louder as more pressure was applied. Bruuno heard and felt a couple cracks, the pain being confirmed by Boe's strangled gasp of pain.

Boe was no stranger to pain, but the crushing weight on his chest and white hot burning from his arm had him fading in and out. Breathing was difficult, but not impossible, and was instantly better as Bruuno got off his former lusus.

"I hope we both rot, ya daft fuckin' jackass. Don't try this shit again." Bruuno wasn't certain if Boe even heard him, but he felt better saying it out loud.

He made sure to hit the emergency alarm on Boe's desk before he left out the way he came. The violet security guard was still at his post by the cargo entrance. The radio on his vest was going off with frantic chatter as Bruuno passed him.

He made sure to smile on his way out.

#ghost.art #drabbles #Bruuno sinopa #Boe hexxio #Ask 2 tage #This took way too long to format on mobile and twice as long to write.#If I need to add a warning leme know!

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