#mans went and took the most dejected piss ever

[fingertipsmp3]

I love sim drama

[peachycoreroo]

i was thinking, what about boys from haikyuu losing game and taking their anger on their s/o in bed to the point s/o is saying safe word, crying? if that's too much, just make them really angry, hurting s/o with words.

i was thinking about Suna, Kita and maybe Shirabu?

characters: suna rintarou, kita shinsuke, shirabu kenjirou

genre: smut, slight angst, fluff at the end

word count: 1.8k

warnings: fem!reader, angry boys, established relationships, spanking, one (1) face slap, choking, vaginal penetration, oral m!receiving, usage of ‘whore’, ‘bitch’ and ‘slut’, heavy degradation, semi-public sex, pretty harsh words are said, safe word is used

authors note: uuu this is my first darker piece for hq, but it does end in fluff!! i tweaked it so it fits the timeskip, but just a friendly reminder that this is pure fiction, your favs love you and would never hurt you<3 here's a link to my masterlist

pt.2: kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru, tsukishima kei

suna rintarou:

it wasn’t often that your boyfriend resorted to pounding the living shit out of you immediately when you had sex, usually opting for teasing you till you couldn’t take it anymore and begged him to fuck you or took the reins in your own hands and rode him till you were both shaking from overstimulation.

this time, was bad though.

the japanese national volleyball team just lost the finale of the olympics, resulting in them only getting the silver medal. no matter how amazing the second-place sounded, it still hit hard to miss the big gold by a hair.

just like how hard suna was currently hitting your ass, as he fucked into you in the empty changing room of the team. you only wanted to check on him when you saw how dejected he looked as he left the field with the team, when the tall brunet just ripped down your clothes and bent you over, fury dancing in his greenish eyes.

you knew how hard rintarou and his teammates worked for this. it was only natural they couldn’t celebrate. losing is still losing, no matter if you’re getting a medal.

“f-fuck, rin, it hurts”, you wailed, tears already streaming down your face from the full-force slaps that were delivered to your sore ass cheeks. being bent over with only the locker in front of you and sunas’ hands on your hips as a leverage to not fall face first on the floor, slowly took a troll on your tired body. it also didn’t help that your legs were barely able to keep you up with how powerful his thrusts were.

“shut the fuck up and take it, worthless whore”, he growled furiously, thrusts only increasing in speed, and a hand sneaking to your front, wrapping itself around your neck. the cruel comments that usually caused your cunt to flutter and eyes roll back, suddenly made your heart sink.

you knew he was angry at being defeated by the opposing team and not at you, but you couldn’t stop the heavy feeling in your chest, or the tears that seemed to multiply at his cold remark.

when the adjustment of his hips caused him to hammer his fat tip painfully against your cervix and his hand tightened harshly around your throat, your knees gave out and you tried to scream only for nothing to come out of your mouth.

“useless, fucking bitch, can’t even stand upright. why do i even keep you around?” he aggressively huffed, not paying any attention to your comfort. you couldn’t take this anymore.

your body went completely limp, as you whispered a small, choked ‘silk’, not even being sure if he heard, when his mind was so clouded by rage.

but he did. and his heart painfully clenched when he recognized the hurt tone in your voice, instantly letting go of your bruised throat and ceasing his thrusts.

guilt filled him as he pulled out and finally looked at you to see you sobbing uncontrollably, arms wrapping protectively around your form as if you were afraid of him hurting you.

“hey… hey, y/n, sweetie, look at me.” suna’s gentle tone had you looking up at him, your vision blurry as your pained expression met his tender one.

“’m s-sorry i couldn’t help you, r-rin’. ‘m sorry y-you lost”, you stuttered out helplessly.

here you were, crying and in pain, but still thinking about him. the brunet was sure he didn’t deserve you.

“no, i’m sorry, pretty. i got carried away”, the tall volleyball player whispered softly, his large palms cupping your cheeks, “i love you and i never want to hurt you. please, forgive me.”

the guilt etched into his handsome face showed you just how bad he really felt, your lips lifting in a small smile. “’s ok, rin’. i love you too.”

the tall male breathed out a sigh of relief as he embraced you tightly and kissed your forehead. suna rintarou would never get carried away like this again. that, he promised himself.

kita shinsuke:

when kita got home, all dejected and upset because some assholes decided to trash grandma yumie’s precious crops in the darkness of the night, you opened your arms with love and understanding. what you didn’t expect however, as you asked how you could help, was to end up on your knees with your boyfriend abusing your throat for what felt like hours.

your knees were aching from the uncomfortable position on the hardwood floor, throat painfully contracting around his thick length as he pounded your mouth as if it were your cunt, jaw hurting from holding it open for so long.

you felt like you would pass out any minute, and while normally kita would immediately sense any of your slightest mood shifts when you were being intimate, he didn’t this time.

where there was usually a caring boyfriend who wouldn’t take his gaze of your face and always asked if you’re doing okay, was a guy who had a far away look on his frowning face, only using you as an outlet for his anger.

the white-black haired male was almost scarily quiet, only occasional grunts and growls escaping his lips. your gurgling and gagging sounds as he hit the back of your throat with every forceful thrust were painful to listen to, and you couldn’t wrap your head around your boyfriend not realizing what he was doing to you.

as tears streamed down your numb face, you weren’t able to stop your teeth from grazing his fat cock, your throbbing jaw not cooperating with your brain anymore.

kita let out an animalistic growl as he pulled out of your wet mouth at once, a sudden slap to your tender cheek startling you.

“you asked how to help and you’re doing exactly that, but can’t even do that for me, huh?”, he spat almost hostilely.

the hurtful words, the harsh slap and the rage painted on his usually calm and kind face made your heart ache, as you sobbed out a ‘peach! shin’, please! peach!’

kita suddenly felt as if he awoke from a hypnosis, when he heard you cry out your safe word. as his -now clear- gaze fell on you, he couldn’t help his chest from painfully tightening. you only offered to help, and he’s gone and hurt you like never before.

falling on his knees in front of you, he pulled you into his strong arms, rocking you both side to side as he apologetically murmured ‘i’m so sorry, angel’ and ‘i love you’ over and over again into your messy hair.

“m’ okay, shinsuke. just wanted to help", you sniffled against his chest, making kita close his eyes out of pure shame that he did that to you.

“let’s get you into the bathtub and i’ll cook your favorite, how does that sound love?”, he whispered softly, as if afraid that any of his next movements would make you break.

the next few weeks you barely got to do anything, kita shinsuke always glued to your side and immediately taking over any task that was thrown at you.

shirabu kenjirou:

being a med student was fucking exhausting. shirabu had spent months writing a very important thesis about certain brain tumors on newborns, only for his professor to give him a c. something about it not being detailed enough.

“fuck you”, shirabu spat as he was sitting in front of the fire place in your shared apartment, throwing all 80 pages of the “not detailed” dissertation into the fire.

“ken’? what are you doing?”

“burning this fucking nightmare. ’m gonna drop out, fuck this shit”, he almost growled furiously. coming up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, leaning down to ask lowly: “you want a better way to deal with your anger?”

that’s how you found yourself bent over his lap with your panties dangling at your ankles. the spanking wasn’t new, your boyfriend being super pissed while doing so, was.

the first few slaps went as usual with you clenching around nothing and enjoying the rubs to the tender flesh shirabu hit a few seconds prior. after, it suddenly went downhill.

all at once, the soft caresses ceased to a stop, his calloused palm from years of playing volleyball coming down on your ass with full force and the copper-haired man spewing some of the most degrading stuff you’ve ever heard.

“fucking slut, getting off to this. you like it when i use you to let out my anger? i’m having a hard time while you’re just being a horny, selfish fucktoy”.

at the last sentence, you froze. did he really think you were using him? you only wanted to help, but his cold words continued. “gonna beat your ass till it’s sore and aching, you won’t be able to sit without remembering what a useless fucking girlfriend you were while i needed support.”

the logical part of your brain knew, that your boyfriend didn’t mean it. the anger got the best of him, and he just threw around accusations like he wished he could do at his asshole of a prof.

but the bigger, sensitive part of your brain convinced you that he meant every single hurtful word. you weren’t even hearing what derogatory stuff was spilling from his lips anymore, vision blurry and ears ringing from the pain you felt in your chest as well as your ass cheeks.

was this your fault? was it wrong to try and help? maybe you should’ve given him some space.

a particularly hard spank brought you back to reality, suddenly tasting the salty wetness of your tears seeping into your mouth as you cried out a loud ‘pumpkin!”, trying to push yourself out of his lap and landing on the floor with a loud ‘thud’ as his hands instantly let you go.

shirabu could only look at you wide-eyed when he saw how you were choking on your sobs and crawling backwards, just to get away from him.

“please don’t hit me anymore!”, were the words, that would haunt kenjirou for the rest of his life. he could feel himself tear up when it hit him what he did to you, his precious girlfriend, just because he was angry at a prof.

“baby, i- please i would never hit you like that on purpose, i- “, the male felt his throat tighten up and with a quiet sniffle he embraced you tightly, craving the warmth of your body. “forgive me, i love you so much, please don’t go.”

as you started to calm down, your arms wrapped themselves around him, wanting to be close to him as well, because no matter what, he was your biggest comfort and you still loved him.

“’m not going anywhere, kenji’. just… please don’t do that ever again”, you murmured against his temple.

“never.”

[forehead-enthusiast]

Checkmate

Pairing: Haechan x Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, fluff but it gets slightly steamy at one point (still totally sfw)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: You and Haechan get engaged, because anything is better than the process of trying to get engaged. That being said, having a fiancé you hate isn’t that much better.

Author’s notes: remember me???????? I’m alive, yeah. I’m super proud of this fic, I think it’s my best ever, so please give it a read!!

.

Haechan inhaled the overwhelming scent of floral perfume, and barely managed to stifle a gag. His father arranged for him to meet more and more foreign princesses every week, and he wondered where the man even kept finding them. Were there even this many countries? The prince’s surroundings were beginning to blend into a blur of painted smiles and emotionless eyes. He cursed that stubborn old man in his mind, and questioned furiously why it was even so important that he find a bride any time soon. Still, no matter how much he despised it, he knew his father wouldn’t accept anything less. 

He looked into the sea of lace gowns and resigned himself.

Maybe he’d just choose someone. Anyone. He smiled morosely, knowing all the women there were only after their shot at the throne anyway. They were here to use him, why shouldn’t he use them too? The apathetic thought left a bad taste on his tongue. Still, in his exhaustion at his circumstances, it seemed more and more reasonable the longer he considered it.

He searched throughout the crowd of giggling princesses, unable to distinguish between their faces. 

One after another, they approached him, with candied smiles and words that were far too practiced. One after another, they convinced him a loveless marriage with someone half-decent was far preferable to enduring this a moment longer. One after another, they revealed themselves to be absolutely unbearable, and Haechan grew more and more desperate to find someone that didn’t make him want to throw himself off a balcony after three sentences.

You stood at the back of the crowd, prodded by impatient elbows and sneered at by women hiding their smirks behind fans. You rolled your eyes, unable to understand this need, this hunger to marry someone they’d never met. That was your problem, according to your parents. And your advisors. And your tutors. According to everyone, really. You’d been to so many different kingdoms, trying to seduce unfamiliar princes, but could never bring yourself to actually put any effort into it. The carriage that shipped you to each one was beginning to feel more like home than the castle you’d left.

You watched girl after girl leave the ballroom, looking thoroughly dejected. It was hard not to relish in their failure just a bit, but you dreaded whatever high standards this prince was going to judge you with. You had little to offer. Your background, your kingdom, your land- none could remotely compare to his. Your parents were completely insane to even think you had anything that would make you lucrative as a bride to him.

Maybe they’re hoping he’ll behead me. You chuckled.

Still, the crowd continued to thin, and you couldn’t put off meeting him forever. A few of the weaker-hearted girls nudged you forward, suddenly less eager to meet the sharp-tongued prince. 

You sighed, and decided to get it over with.

.

Haechan rubbed at his temples, barely even looking at the girl who approached him now. He’d made up his mind to find a bride today, but his prospects weren’t looking so good. His eyes caught the hem of this princess’s dress. It was unadorned. He’d go so far as to call it plain. Many princesses were after his riches, but he’d never seen one that was so blatantly poor. Most at least tried to disguise their lack of wealth, so as to make them more desirable in terms of growing power. He half-chuckled, half-sighed. His gaze traced upward lazily, until it came across the first unsmiling face he’d seen all day. It shocked him so much that his hand dropped from his face, and he stood up instinctively.

“Your highness, thank you for allowing me to meet with you today-”

It was the most monotonous, disinterested introduction he’d ever heard, and his heart soared. You hadn’t even noticed he’d stood up. Incredible.

“Let’s get married.”

“I hope- excuse me?”

“Let’s get married. Can we go right now?” The question was directed to the attendant beside him, who sputtered at the prince’s sudden enthusiasm. No one, however, was more surprised at him than you. Your skirts were still clutched in your fists, your knees still bent in a curtsy. You couldn’t even manage to feel happy that he’d chosen you.

If anything, you felt angry.

He was rattling off instructions to his attendant about the wedding he’d already begun to plan, completely ignoring you. You hadn’t even responded to his proposal, if you could call his demand that. You tried to get in a polite word in time and time again, only for him to not even acknowledge you, until you got so sick of him talking you couldn’t stand it anymore.

“No!”

Finally, he turned to you.

“No?”

“I don’t want to marry you.” You ignored the consequences of your words, and avoided thinking about the awaiting rage of your parents.

The prince blinked. 

Then he scoffed.

“Of course you do.”

You cocked an eyebrow, your expression not betraying how absolutely pissed those four words had made you. Instead, the first smile you’d shown him spread on your face. It was chillingly false, your eyes boring deep holes into his face as you sweetly replied:

“I’d burn down this castle before I married you, your highness. Good day.”

And with that, you turned and left the ballroom.

Haechan didn’t move for a few moments as he watched you stalk away, a picture of grace even in your anger. The women who remained and witnessed began to whisper, snapping him out of his shock. His head flicked around the room, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Then, just as you vanished around a corner, he took off after you.

He’d been turned down. How? Why? He was rich. He was influential. You were neither. He felt a nagging pang of guilt, but suppressed it. You were poor. His proposal was a generous offer, for you and your kingdom. You were the one losing out by rejecting him. So why? Why was he the one chasing after you? He cursed under his breath as he caught sight of your back.

“You! Wait up!”

You heard him calling, but only sped up. 

“I will call the guards if you don’t stop this instant! I-I command you to stop!”

You did. Then you turned on your heel, with a glare that would send armies fleeing, and stomped towards him much faster than he knew a princess could. He flinched as you were suddenly toe to toe with him, taller than he expected. You seemed smaller when he was sitting on his throne. You sneered at his reaction.

“Do you need your guards just to take care of one woman, little prince?”

He flushed, but you didn’t let him respond.

“You don’t even know my name. I’m not, ‘you.’ I don’t know why you want to marry me, but if you want me to agree, maybe learn that first.”

“You-” Haechan fumbled, unused to someone being blunt with him. He flared up, unable to think straight.

“You’re lucky to get an offer like this, you know.”

He saw the way your eyes widened in indignation, but kept digging his own grave as if he’d find treasure eventually.

“You won’t get an opportunity like this again. And, for your information, I only want to get married so I can finally be done with all,” he gestured towards the direction of the ballroom you’d both just left, “this.”

Despite your anger, his reason struck a chord within you. Not that that made your tone any less cutting.

“So I’m supposed to be grateful that you’re using me?”

“We’re royalty. We’re all getting used by someone, aren’t we?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, and he could tell you didn’t find the idea all so repulsive. He pressed forward.

“You’re tired of it all too, aren’t you? Or do you want to keep getting shoved at princes? We’d both get our parents off our backs. It’s a good deal.”

It was frustrating, but your desire to stop meeting spoiled princes was beginning to outweigh your immense dislike of this one. And as much as you hated it, he was right when he said you wouldn’t get an offer as good as this one ever again. Maybe that’s why he chose you, you supposed. He knew you couldn’t afford to say no. (Not that that had stopped you.) It just angered you that he saw you as someone so desperate, so needy, so pitiful. 

“...Fine.” You stuck out your hand in impersonal assent. “But. I don’t want to marry you.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“I’m not done, little prince.” He restrained his scowl and motioned for you to continue. “Let’s just get engaged. That’s enough reason to end all the marriage meetings, and then if it turns out I really just cannot stand you, we’ll call it off. Fine?”

“Fine.”

He shook your hand firmly.

Despite the way you both glared at each other, neither of you could deny how pleased you were with this arrangement. 

While you sent word to your family, he went directly to his, who were thoroughly, almost obnoxiously happy that he’d found someone. He forced a grin and made up some lies about how he’d fallen for you at first sight. They weren’t exactly excited about your less than impressive background, but weren’t about to reject the only girl who’d managed to catch their discerning son’s eye.

Within a day, it was announced throughout all your fiancé’s kingdom that he’d found a woman to wed. You managed to laugh about how all the other princesses must be incredibly jealous of you at this moment, but couldn’t quite get over the fact that you were one foot into a lifelong commitment with the rudest man you’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. It was a troubling internal conflict. On one hand, he was the worst. On the other, the same could be said for just about every other prince you’d ever met. So really, it was an overall win that this one didn’t expect you to love or fawn over him.

At least, that’s what you repeated to yourself as you received the list of engagement events you were expected to attend alongside him.

.

“Do we really have to do this?” You groaned.

“Just shut up and smile, they’re about to see us.”

You reluctantly did as he said, forcing an exuberant grin onto an unwilling face. Your carriage turned into the courtyard, and crowds cheered wildly, as if they actually cared about your wellbeing in some way. You waved gently, relieved your upbringing was so ingrained within you that you could play your role without ceasing your fantasies of punching your fiancé in the face. As you reached your places of honor, Haechan offered a gallant hand to help you down, and you almost admired how well he played the part of a loving gentleman.

It was such a truly lovely banquet being thrown for you, it almost made you feel bad for lying. Haechan seemed to be thinking similarly, and, forgetting to be vindictive, leaned over to whisper jokingly in your ear.

“Poor fools actually think we’re in love.”

You laughed brightly without thinking. Both of you then remembered you hated each other, and stared at each other in shock before looking away sharply. You waved again, happy to be doing something that made sense to you. The hordes of celebrating nobles clapped and called out their congratulations again as soon as they saw you move, not wanting to get on the bad side of what they assumed was their future queen. That was a pretty nice feeling, and you accidentally smiled sincerely.

Haechan, still stunned by the sound of your real laugh, wasn’t prepared to see your real smile. His eyes widened. It was more beautiful than he expected, and didn’t threaten him with cavities the way every woman in his life’s did. If they were processed white sugar, you were honey with all the real sweetness in the world on your face. He hazily tried to remember when he last smiled genuinely. You turned to him with a gleam in your eye, and he took your hand before rationality could persuade him otherwise.

The smile dropped off your face, and your gaze flicked to your intertwined fingers, then to his expression, which seemed even more confused than yours somehow. He looked boyish and bashful, and you wondered if your haughty fiancé had a far more charming twin.

Lucky for Haechan, the crowd cheered yet louder at the sight of your supposed affection, and he tilted his head towards them as if to say, See, that's why. Normally, you wouldn't have believed it was part of his plan, but it was easier that way. You let him lift your entwined hands in some playfully bragging way, and rolled your eyes.

.

“Alright, so I get the bed.”

“That’s funny. No, I get the bed. It’s my kingdom!”

“You are not being very gentlemanly right now.”

“And you didn’t seem like the kind of girl who’d enforce those kinds of antiquities.”

You scowled, and Haechan looked smug, which only intensified your frustration.

“Fine. Then let’s decide fairly, little prince.” You loved to call him that, just to see him pretend it didn’t irk him. “If I beat you in chess, I get the bed. And vice versa.”

“...Fine, small princ- annoying- um- pret- dum-”

You couldn’t help but grin at his attempts. “Nice try, but I’m not immature enough to be annoyed by a silly nickname.”

Your fiancé grimaced and got out the chess board.

.

Hours later, you were still playing the first game of chess.

“Y/n… Can we… Can we…” Haechan yawned enormously, which of course prompted you to as well. “Can we maybe… call a truce for tonight? It’s a big bed. We have to be up early for a garden party.”

You wanted to rejoice in his surrender, but your eyes were teary with exhaustion. Instead of the easy win you expected, you’d been in the longest game of your life. It seemed like you two were well matched for one another.

As opponents, of course.

“Fine… But just- just for tonight. We’ll play again tomorrow.”

And with that, you both crawled into the truly extravagant bed, falling asleep before your heads hit the pillows. 

Many nights passed, with an unfinished chess game at the end of each. It grew into something of a habit, a nightly chess game, always accompanied by bickering, of course. Neither of you ever managed to truly best the other, with every game ending the way the first did. As they continued, the bickering smoothed into mocking conversations, and sometimes you weren’t even mocking each other, but a common enemy. You would never admit it, but the pair of you started laughing together more often than you did at each other these days.

On some fateful Tuesday, for the first time ever, you saw a clear move to checkmate. The king was unguarded. For the first time, he was vulnerable. It was glaringly obvious, and you snuck a glance at your opponent’s face to see if it was a trap, but were taken aback when you found him already staring at you. He didn’t look triumphant or concerned, but he somehow looked… nervous. Or maybe expectant? And then you realized. He was far too good a player to make an error like this one. He was offering you a choice, from one royal with too much pride to admit they enjoyed the other’s company to another. It would be easy to end this game right now, and banish him to the floor.

You chose another move, and the game continued.

.

“So what’s on the agenda tomorrow?” You asked, with a tone more befitting of a business partner than a fiancé. The two of you had gotten pretty used to the whole routine of feigning adoration, and typically planned cute moments to perform in advance. 

Haechan looked over at you and sighed in a way that might have been more amused than exasperated. 

“Would it kill you to sit like a lady?”

You looked down at yourself, eating a biscuit you’d pocketed from today’s lavish banquet, with your legs criss-crossed as you lounged on the bed in your nightgown. The white fabric was hiked up above your knees to accommodate the posture, and catching all the crumbs that fell.

“Aren’t I?”

Haechan couldn’t mask his amiable laugh at that. You felt strangely proud when you made him truly laugh. It was one of the few times his shoulders really relaxed, and he looked like the cheerful boy he might’ve been without the pressure of royalty on his back.

“So… what’s on the agenda?”

Haechan didn’t answer right away. He was still looking your direction but seemed zoned out. 

“Haechan?”

He flinched, always shocked when you used his real name instead of a mocking nickname.

“W-what? Oh, we’ve got a ball.”

“Ugh… Boring. You better not leave me alone with all the gossiping hags.” 

“Yeah, sure. Uh, for real, could you sit properly?”

“Whaaat, I’m comfy.”

“Seriously.”

That irked you. You were just sitting, and while you hadn’t fully realized it, Haechan was someone you'd grown comfortable being yourself around. You didn’t need another person in your life telling you the way you behaved was wrong, and against your will, you had begun to expect more from him. You felt something too close to heartbreak as you wondered if he was just another person who disapproved of you.

“No, I don’t want to.”

“It’s not a big deal, why can’t you?”

“Because you’re right. It’s not a big deal, so why do you seem to care so much?”

“Can you just do it?!”

“No! Didn’t you get on me for- for ‘enforcing those antiquities’ or whatever? Now you’ve got a problem with the way I sit or how I dress-”

“It’s not- it’s not like that!”

“Then what?!” You flared up at him further, as did he, but he seemed less angry and more... agitated. You laughed mockingly. “Whaaaat are you shy seeing my legs or something-”

“YES! They’re- they’re. Um. Well…” He looked at the floor, and you could’ve sworn you heard him whisper, “pretty,” before he flicked his head back up and stammered the marginally less embarrassing, “distracting.”

Your anger instantly dissolved when he confessed that, and you flushed in a way you didn’t know you could. You stared at the ground, tugging your nightgown gently down. You’d always hated being treated like a lady, but you’d never been treated like a woman, and you found you didn’t hate it quite as much. This might’ve been the first time in either of your lives that the two of you were ever actually lost for words. Neither could formulate some witty remark or snide comment, and you just boiled in the unfamiliar atmosphere neither of you sought to create.

“Uh,” Haechan broke the silence masterfully. “I-I think I’m going to turn in early.”

“Yes. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

.

You might have climbed in bed early- no chess game for the first time in ages- but you both woke up exhausted. Four feet apart, two fiancés had stayed up late replaying the night in their minds and subsequently panicking.

“G-good morning.”

“Good morning.”

The day whirled by, with most of it being spent simply getting dressed for the evening ball. You spent most of the day slapping your face and reminding yourself of how you used to act around him, and when you heard a knock at your door, you were ready.

He told himself he was, but he wasn’t. 

Haechan took a deep breath and let his gaze trail up from your skirt to your face, and he stiffened. He’d grown used to his fiancé looking beautiful in the luxurious dresses she wore daily- even though it stunned him more than he’d admit the first time. This dress was no different, no more extravagant, no, but the pink tinge on your cheeks was a beauty he couldn’t have imagined.

“You look… decent.”

He celebrated internally for managing to say something an unflustered him might have said, although some tiny part of himself wished he could pay you a compliment normally.

Your sigh slid into a laugh, and you found your rhythm in your rapport again.

“And you look just adorable, little prince.”

He glared, but was relieved to hear the dig. He offered you the crook of his elbow, and you clapped your hands to your cheeks once more before taking it. He flinched at the sharp sound, and observed your cheeks grow red again from the impact.

“Youch.”

“It’s not that bad, honestly. I’ve been doing it all day to wake myself up.”

Haechan hummed a response. He couldn’t form words; all his brainpower was focused on figuring out why that statement had just disappointed him so. As he rounded the corner towards the ballroom, though, he shook it from his mind.

You entered the ballroom to the usual thunderous applause. Haechan led you down the immaculate gold staircase, and you clung to his arm, the perfect image of a lovestruck princess. No one noticed you holding on a little tighter than usual tonight. The band struck up a song, and you took the hands of possibly the only person you'd ever considered a friend. He led you to the center of the floor and began to waltz. It was always a satisfying feeling to watch the crowds make way for you. You looked everywhere but at your partner, and aimlessly wondered if you’d even been in this ballroom before. Just when you thought you’d seen every room in the massive castle, you’d be led to a wing you didn’t even know existed. The idle thoughts occupied you, which was probably for the best, since it meant you didn’t notice the way Haechan was looking at you.

The dance ended, and you went separate ways to entertain people who made you feel like your brains were melting. Seriously, one day your mind was just going to leak out your ears and spill onto the polished floors. It was amazing how you could spend hours talking to one person night after night, but half an evening with these sycophants made you contemplate faking your own death.

Finally, your reprieve came in the form of an attendant, whispering in your ear that the crown prince was requesting your presence.

“So sorry ladies, my future husband and I are just inseparable.”

They gave you condescendingly knowing looks, their eyes practically screaming, Just wait a few more years, child, you’ll tire of each other. You had to turn away quickly so they didn’t catch you sneering at them. Whatever. You wouldn’t be with him in a few years anyway, you would have gone your separate ways by then.

Right?

Something about that thought didn’t feel right. Not even sad, just… not right. You thought rapidly as you let your attendant guide you. What was your original agreement? If I realize I… Wait… If I end up still hating him, then the engagement’s off? Those were the terms. Which meant, if you didn’t hate him, then inevitably you’d end up mar-

“Y/n!”

You looked up sharply, not realizing you’d crossed the ballroom already. However, even when looking forward, you didn’t see the person who’d just called your name. Your eyes flitted about, searching for the familiar face. You took a few steps in no particular direction, massively confused, and then suddenly terrified when a hand reached out from behind a curtain and pulled you to join its owner. Not the type to lose composure and scream, you clenched your jaw so tight it almost broke until you saw your fiancé's face shrouded in the shadows of the velvet drapes. 

“What took you so long?”

His question wasn’t at all rude, as it once might’ve been. It was one of genuine relief to see you, as if you were his solace amongst all the fools at the ball. You met his eyes for maybe the first time this evening, and they were bright and warm and looked at you the way no one ever did. Like you mattered. Like he wanted you there. Not the facade you put on for everyone, he wanted the real you. 

Oh God, I don’t hate him at all.

“Earth to y/n?” He chuckled as you snapped to attention. “Finally, you’re here. Is this the worst ball yet or what?”

“Yes! It’s seriously unbearable.”

“I knew you’d agree. By the way, have you still been slapping your face? You shouldn’t in front of guests, they’ll think you’re crazy.” He teased you over your red flush without giving it a second thought. You hadn’t touched your cheeks in hours. The realization only made you blush even more. He leaned in close, and you stood stock-still with surprise.

“Do you want to vanish for a while?”

“What?” The absurdity of the idea finally overwhelmed all other distractions from your mind. “How can we leave, we’re the guests of honor?”

“Please, nobody cares. They’re all busy trying to climb the social ladder anyway. Besides, we’ve got this great hiding spot.”

You stifled a laugh. “Yeah, squeezing between a window and some drapes is what I call ideal.”

“Hey, it’s got, like, enough room for us!”

That was a bit of hyperbole on Haechan’s part. You both barely fit in the narrow space, and you thanked the stars you hadn’t worn a larger hoop skirt tonight. Suddenly you were back to evading making eye contact again. A hush fell over you as you thought about how incorrect his statement just was, and you both grew acutely aware of how you couldn’t position yourselves in any way that would allow you to put some distance between your bodies. You cursed yourself for not postponing your life-shattering revelation about the man before you until after this little endeavor. Haechan’s mind raced as he saw the red on your skin remain even in the dim light.

You could only avoid each other’s gazes for so long. 

He locked eyes with you, and you envisioned pieces moving across a board, your king running out of ways to escape its fate. There was only one end, and you were starting to love the idea of surrendering. You whispered harshly in the sarcastic way that felt comfortable to you, still too prideful to admit your defeat.

“So are you going to kiss me, or am I going to kiss you?”

Haechan answered by pressing a palm to the back of your neck and pulling you towards him perhaps too eagerly. A second later, you’d both pulled away, frantically looking around to see if anyone was peering in on you both. You relaxed when you confirmed no one has discovered you.

“This isn’t... a good time, Haechan.”

“I could not agree more. Way too risky.”

Neither of you waited a moment more to lunge towards each other again. His lips found yours roughly, his breath already ragged with overworked patience. You grabbed his lapels, no less desperate for this moment, your lipstick smearing onto him. Your fists crushed his boutonniere, and his fingers wove into your hair and ruined the curls. There was no party beyond the curtain. You and him were alone, both desperate to memorize the taste of each other, and nothing else mattered but that. His lips parted, and yours followed suit. His tongue just brushed your lower lip, and you felt a thrill run down your spine. Your arms wrapped around his neck unconsciously, trying to get closer to him than was possible, but nothing could stop you from trying. You caught his lip between your teeth, your instincts running wild, and you wondered how either of you had endured up until this point. Now that you’d gotten a taste of each other, it seemed almost impossible not to get addicted. He gripped your hair, his other arm wrapping around your waist and not letting go. It slid down to grab your thigh and wrap it around him, your dress’s layers barely inhibiting him. Every inch of you was so aware of where it made contact with him, and you hungered for more. All facades were shed. You were both just heat and teeth and desire, without a shred of nobility between the two of you. You’d never experienced anything so perfect.

The two of you finally parted, your lips wet and the rest of you looking disastrous. He pressed his lips to your cheek, getting your own lipstick on your face, and you pulled his palm up to kiss it over and over again. Too breathless to continue and too worked up to just stop, you let the clock tick by as you left soft kisses all over each other.

“What are we going to do?” You whispered, half concerned but half amused. Between sentences, you still found places on his face yet unkissed, and remedied them. “We can’t go back out looking like this.”

“What are you talking about? I look great.” You were both too elated to remember you should be worried about your predicament, but he did seem genuinely proud of the pink smears adorning his face and neck, the teeth marks framing his lips, the fierce creases in his lapels. He brushed his fingers on your cheekbones, and looked even prouder of the mess he’d made of you. It felt like a dream to be touching you like this. Even more unreal to know that he was the cause of your disheveled hair and your chapped lips. He may or may not have imagined a moment like this before, late at night when he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but it was buried in the back of his mind and nowhere near as euphoric as this reality.

“No, but seriously, we can’t go out like this.”

“No yeah, for sure, you’re absolutely right.”

.

You managed to escape thanks to the tight-lipped attendant who’d led you to a curtain concealing a prince in the first place, but found yourselves rather tight-lipped too. Once you’d both washed off the lipstick and the teeth marks faded, you didn’t know how to face each other. You just crawled into bed and discreetly squirmed as you thought about all that had happened. What was more embarrassing, that you realized you might, maybe, possibly, have feelings for each other, or that the other person might know about them? It was already late when you turned out the lights, but you both stayed up longer, plagued by worries.

They must be so smug since I was all over them, I’m such an idiot.

God, I can’t believe how intense that was. What if they hated it? What if I was bad at it?

Did they only kiss me ‘cause of how much I was kissing them?

Are we like… friends? They probably don’t hate me, so…

That was really unbelievable.

I think I might really… feel something for them.

I hope they feel the way I do.

The hurricanes of concerns led to a restless night, and a mortifyingly awkward day afterward. You couldn’t even look at each other, let alone speak. Even the servants seemed to notice the tension, and you could hear them giggling when they’d disappear into the corridors. You tried to tell yourself that that was great, that it really sold your act as a couple of lovebirds, but that just embarrassed you all the more. Your fiancé was just as tormented, the blush that was sparking gossip reaching all the way to the tips of his ears.

Eventually, someone had to break the silence. If not with words, then with the slamming of a chess board down on the usual table. And that’s exactly what you did, not that who slept in the bed was something that still concerned either of you. No, now it was just routine, something you enjoyed and shared with each other, and something you were going to use to discuss your current feelings.

“C-come play, little prince.”

Even the nickname didn’t manage to get him to flare up. He walked over, still with the air of importance that was second nature to him, but his pounding heart almost echoed against his ribs. You set up your black pieces and he took the white. He moved a pawn towards you.

“So…”

“Yeah.” You slid a piece across the board. He nodded, his cheeks burning. You both knew what you had to say and what the other person was going to say, but that only made it all the more difficult to verbalize.

“I guess I don’t hate you. As much as I used to.” You said hurriedly, your voice forcibly steadied.

“Oh, what an honor.” Haechan’s snarky response was accompanied by a trembling hand moving a rook. He yelled at himself internally, and attempted to be as honest as he could. “I… suppose you’re not unbearable.” The biting words didn’t sting, nor did they flow the way they once did. It saddened both players, even though it had only been a day since you both had been without the banter of your best friend. Slowly, you started to regret the night before, the ecstatic memories being clouded with the fear that you might lose the most important person to you because of it. 

“I-”

“I-”

“Oh, sorry, you start-”

“No, you-”

“No-”

“Okay, fine!” You huffed, accepting the initiative. You pushed your rook straight forward. “I… have always hated the idea of getting married. Everything about it- the formalities, the responsibilities, the princes, ugh. Awful.”

“Gee, thanks.” 

“I’m not done, okay!” Pieces shuffled around the board as you tried to organize your thoughts. “If I… had to marry someone…” Your sentence trailed off, and Haechan leaned forward, ears itching to hear the conclusion. You stared at the board, and he steeled himself. It would’ve been a blow to his persistent pride if he just waited for you to say everything.

“I’m…” What did he need to say first? His mind blanked, and he just let the words fall from his lips. “I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened, but remained fixed on the game. “For what?”

“For not listening to you. The first day we met. I didn’t… treat you the way I should’ve. I’m sorry for that. But I’m… also glad it happened. If I’d acted differently then maybe you wouldn’t be in front of me. That would be, uh, not ideal. But I’m sorry.”

“Um. Thanks. I’m glad it happened too. Otherwise we might still be pretending to be well-mannered in front of each other.” Haechan snickered, and you did too. You could feel your shoulders relaxing, and he could feel himself growing bolder. He moved his queen across the board, closing in on his target.

“Man, where would I be without my unladylike, insufferable fiancé?”

“Probably whining like a child to some other pitiful creature who deserves better.”

The clouds in your minds began to clear as you exchanged snarky remarks. It felt right- pretty words didn’t like to be forced from your lips. He smiled. You looked up, your line of sight lingering on the lips you knew well before finding his eyes. You left your king unguarded, ready for it to be captured.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind marrying you, little prince.”

“Do it then.”

You swept the unfinished game off the board, feeling like you’d won, and he met you in the middle. He kissed you, barely more composed than the night before, but you had no problem with that. The two of you smiled against each other’s lips, incredulous that somehow you had found someone to love, something you used to believe was impossible. Little bursts of laughter interrupted the kiss as giddiness took over.

“Didn’t I say something like I’d burn down this castle before I wed you?”

“Just let the wedding planner know,” Haechan sighed with joy as he gave in to the temptation of your lips again.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Hii! Could u maybe do a 12 & 13 from fluff prompts with Bucky?

Also congratulations on the milestone! 🤍

Just say yes

A/N: Beware of the fluff attack and Bucky being an absolute puppy dog!

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Prompts - Dancing in the kitchen & Proposal gone wrong. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: Fluff town, a curse word or two.

Word count: 1500ish

Requests & Challenges

Bucky Barnes Taglist - @marvelgirl7 @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

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

Tags are open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be included in any of these lists ;))

.

As the saying goes, ‘everything that can go wrong, will go wrong’ Bucky found it applicable to his current situation now more than ever.

He had been planning the perfect evening while you were away on a small mission with Sam and were expected to be home in less than an hour. He’d ordered your favourite pizza, kept that special bottle of wine you’d been saving on the table with two glasses, even texted every single person in the team to not disturb once you were home. 

Bucky wanted you all to himself tonight. That and the fact that he was planning to propose. 

You arrived fifteen minutes later looking tattered and exhausted. Bucky frowned, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as he heard the front door slam shut, concerned when he didn’t hear your usually chirpy voice, he walked out to greet you. 

“Welcome home sweetheart, how was th—”

He stopped mid-sentence after getting a good look at your state, hair in disarray, minor cuts decorating your forehead and chin. It wasn’t the first but today was supposed to be an easy one. 

“Oh you look terrible.” 

“Thanks I feel terrible.” 

Bucky chuckled, pulling you into a hug before pressing a kiss on your temple, immediately feeling your body sink into his. 

“What went wrong? I thought the mission was fairly—” 

“Yeah except it wasn’t. I’m going to take a bath okay.” 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” 

Sighing, you gently pushed him away to get to the bathroom, peeling off the unitard as you went,  exhaustion making you forget he was waiting for a kiss, but he understood.

“Alright, don’t be too long though. I made you dinner, and I can guarantee it’s edible this time.” 

“I’m sorry babe but I’m not really hungry. All I want is sleep.” 

You mumbled, your voice laden with sleep as you reached for the door, missing Bucky’s dejected face that he quickly recovered from, not wanting you to worry. 

“How about I get you a glass of wine and patch you up?” He offered.

“Yep.”

.

You practically crawled into bed after you bathed, falling asleep instantly. Bucky climbed in shortly after, racking his brain for yet another attempt of proposing as he draped his arm across your waist, gazing at your sleeping form for a while before kissing your forehead. 

. 

A lingering aroma of fresh bacon and eggs woke you up the next day. Peeking through a half open eye, you saw Bucky holding a tray of food in his hands and your favourite flower between his teeth.

“God bless you Bucky Barnes!” You exclaimed, sitting up against the headboard with the biggest smile on your face, making grabby hands at the food as your stomach growled. 

He placed the tray in your lap and tucked the flower behind your ear, whispering ‘good morning’ before leaning in for a kiss which you happily returned.

Bucky had already cleared your schedule for the day, made sure that no one bothered you today, he was determined to not let you out of the house before getting that ring on your finger. 

You took turns eating yourself and feeding your super caring boyfriend who had gone through all this trouble for you, not really saying much but rather enjoying the silence you shared. 

“Hey I got us a table at that Italian restaurant that you love for dinner.” Bucky announced matter-of-factly, hiding his nervous self under the facade of a casual dinner date. 

“I’ll have to check with Agent Hill if there’s some updates after last night’s blow-up but I’m sure th—” 

“Oh that won’t be necessary.” 

“It won’t?” You eyed the man who kept his gaze on the piece of fruit he was toying with in the plate.

“Y-yeah I cleared your schedule for the day.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. I want you all to myself.” Bucky’s soft smile warmed your heart as did his honesty, making you lean forward and place a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“So it’s a date Barnes.”

“It’s a date.”

.

Bucky went over his plan once more after deciding to drop the idea of proposing in a public place, he figured he would take you out for a nice meal first, get home, maybe open a nice bottle of wine with some cake and do it then. 

He still had some issues when people disturbed your peace while out at a public place or a social gathering. People would stare, ask for pictures with his vibranium arm or just generally give him the look making him utterly uncomfortable. He decided he couldn’t afford that tonight, everything had to be perfect. He even decided to take the efforts of making you a chocolate cake from scratch. 

Evening rolled by and the kitchen counter was a mess of broken eggshells, a thousand mixing bowls and spoons, the floor covered in sugar and cocoa powder while Bucky wiped the sweat off his forehead and finally got the batter in the oven. 

Looking around, he knew it would eventually have to be professionally cleaned or it would be sleeping on the couch for a week. Somehow he had to evade you from entering the kitchen until he popped the question. 

The super soldier double checked the ring box in his back pocket and set the timer, getting to make the ganache for the cake. 

“Bucky! Get in here right now!” You yelled from the bathroom, voice sounding downright pissed off. 

“Ah fuck what now.” 

Muttering under his breath, he ran, only to find your fully clothed self drenched as the water sprayed everywhere from the broken shower. 

“Oh God, are you alright?”

“Besides being fucking soaked and ruining my new dress & make-up? Oh just fabulous!” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest and stepping away to let him in the mini pool.

You stood next to him shivering while he tried his best to fix it, his vibranium arm doing the trick as he closed the tap, now completely soaked the same as you. 

A tiny box fallen on the wet floor caught your attention and you bent to pick it up, gasping when you opened it to find the most beautiful diamond ring sitting inside the cushioned box. 

It felt more and more real the longer you stared at it, unable to form words, glancing at the man you loved and who, by some miracle loved you back & enough to take this next big step. 

“Bucky…” 

“Hmm?” He wasn’t paying attention.

“What uh..when did you—please look at me.” You croaked, holding the tiny box up in your palm.

Bucky’s eyes turned wide before his hand automatically went for the back pocket of his jeans from where the ring must’ve fallen.

“Fucking hell.”

“What? I hope this isn’t for someone else.” You chuckled at your terrible attempts of a joke, tears already gathering in your eyes while Bucky scratched the back of his neck nervously. 

“Okay I’m gonna do this now. Wait fuck, let me get you a towel first, you’re shivering.”

He hurried to wrap you in a fluffy towel, walked you out and sat you on the bed before knelt down on both knees and cleared his throat.

“Here we go. None of the amazing things that have happened in my life in the past few years would’ve happened, if it weren’t for you. You have been one of the most integral parts of my journey towards healing and by no means is it over, but I know I can’t go ahead without you. You’ve loved me through my worst and by some miracle continue to do so even today.” He chuckled, tears gathering in his eyes while you were down right sobbing at this point.

“I mean it wasn’t supposed to happen like this, I had a whole thing planned and now the kitchen’s a big mess and we have a pool in the bathroom. But again when has anything worked perfectly for us right?”

You giggled through tears, nodding as your mind automatically played all those memories, first date, first kiss, the first ‘i love you’s, everything. It wasn’t the smoothest ride with Bucky but it was the best and you wouldn’t have it any other ways. 

“So Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you be interested in spending the rest of your life with a semi-stable hundred year old man?” 

Wiping your tears, you knelt in front of the man yourself as fresh tears appeared, cupped Bucky’s face in your hands and kissed him with all the love you had in you.

“What do you say?” He mumbled, never breaking the kiss as he stood up with you and walked you over to the bed.

“What do you want me to say? I already found the ring.” You giggled, flopping on the bed and peeling your clothes off, dinner reservations  long forgotten. 

“Just say yes.”

“Yes.” Saying it out loud made you believe it actually happened, as Bucky climbed between your parted legs.

“Say it again.”

“Yes!” 

.

Two hours later when you were finally ready to leave the bedroom, you found yourself in the kitchen in Bucky’s arms, swaying to some 40s ballads that he put on, the floor was a complete mess but neither of you cared. The cake he’d prepared was mostly burnt - thankfully he ran to turn the oven off right before giving you your second orgasm of the night. 

But you wouldn’t trade this moment, this day or this man for anything. 

[spunkpunx]

Bittersweet Bundle Of Misery - Graham Coxon

Plot: Reader is dating Alex James, and finds herself miserable, but finds comfort in a tumultuous affair with his friend, and guitarist, Graham Coxon.

I will probably do a part 2.

Word count: 5153!

Warnings: Drugs, Alcoholism, Smut, Angst, Smoking

April 1996

Alex loved France. Not only that, but the French loved him, specifically the women. I didn't need to understand his words to recognise the flirty tone in his voice when he spoke to the waitresses, the bar staff, in fact, basically any attractive woman who fluttered her eyelashes at him. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Of course, I knew Alex well, so I was never under the impression that he would be a devout, faithful partner, but I also never expected him to be so explicit in his relationships with other women. We both considered the relationship open, but Alex was the only one who seemed to take advantage of that situation.

I found solace in hanging around with Graham. The tour was stressful. We both struggled. We all drank, but for Graham it was a necessity. I spent more time with Graham than with Alex, but of course he didn’t care. The words “jealous” and “possessive” were not in his vocabulary, but then again, neither was “monogamous”.

I was tired and miserable. The venues where the band played could be stubborn about sound-checking themselves. This resulted in a lot of arguments, as I was strictly instructed that the band were only to have their own sound technician (me). Alex and Damon could be rude. Since I’d been dating Alex, nobody took my work seriously. I stopped being a technician with almost seven years experience on tour, and became “Alex’s girlfriend helping out”. The crew could be horribly sexist at times. Even Ivan dismissed me when I brought him a problem.

“Get one of the other technicians to look at it,” he said, after I told him that one of the venue’s sound guys had wired the bass into a guitar amp and not the subwoofer. He must have turned up the volume to compensate for the sound and blown the speaker.

“I know what I’m doing! I’ve worked with this band for years!” I ended up snapping. I heard one of the roadies mumble something about a period and it sent me over the edge. Sometimes I got so angry it was like I didn’t have control over my impulses anymore. I told them all to fuck off and stormed out the room, kicking the door with a tremendous thud as I left. After I’d cooled down and returned, the crew tiptoed around me like I’d overreacted. After the gig, Ivan came over to speak to me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to undermine you. You’re one of the best sound techs we’ve had,” he apologised, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder. I appreciated the apology, it was the first one I’d had since the tour began.

Alex and I had an argument that night. We argued often, but this was explosive. He came into my room, coked up and horny, sitting next to me on the bed and pressing wet kisses to my neck.

“Are you over your little tantrum?” he asked, kneading my breast a little roughly. I pulled away.

“Little tantrum?” I repeated, surprised at his tactless words. “Everyone has been treating me like shit recently Alex.” He shrugged, running a hand up my thigh over my jeans, toying with my top button.

“Whatever it was. Ivan was trying to help and you just went mental,” he laughed, like it was all a big joke. He pressed his lips against mine and I pushed him away.

“It’s your fault I’ve been feeling like this!” I snapped. “If I didn’t start dating you then people would actually treat me like a professional! All of a sudden Damon is asking the drum tech to check the mic volume before they go on!”

“All of a sudden it’s my fault?” he asked, voice raising slightly. “Just cause you overreacted and bit Ivan’s head off?!”

“You don’t get it Alex! If you were ever actually here you’d understand how I was feeling, but you’re always off snorting lines and banging these fucking French girls!” I shouted at him.

“Well maybe I’d be here more if you actually put out instead of just going off at me!” he yelled back. I stood up, walking across the room with my hair clenched in my fists. I wanted as much distance between us as possible.

“Put out?” I looked at him incredulously. “So you’re only here if you can have sex with me? This relationship only exists so you can rely on me having sex with you whenever you fancy?!” We were both properly shouting now.

“That’s what relationships are! That’s what love is! The only difference between friends and relationships is sex!” he replied, seeing this as perfectly valid reasoning.

“So all I am is sex to you?” I asked, my voice now dangerously softer but still dripping with venom.

“No... That’s not- Stop twisting my fucking words!”

I calmly picked up my cigarette carton and lit one, letting his point ferment.

“Get out,” I spat. He glowered at me, standing up and leaving the room, slamming the hotel room door behind him.

As soon as he left the room, hot tears started spilling down my face, not tears of sadness but of rage. I felt overwhelmed. I smoked a cigarette, then another, the deep inhalation subduing my frustration. I heard a soft knock at the door.

“Piss off Alex!”

“It’s not Alex,” came Graham’s gentle reply. I stood and opened the door, wiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Gra,” I huffed in relief at his presence.

“I heard you were arguing, I wanted to see you were okay,” he said. It didn’t surprise me he’d heard it. Graham’s room was just across the hall, and we’d not been quiet. “Pub?” he offered, smiling slightly.

“Yeah alright, I’ll just grab my coat.”

We found a small bar not too far away from the hotel. Neither of us spoke particularly good French, but Graham knew enough to order some wine. The Parisians didn’t drink the same way the British did, and both of us were a little too embarrassed to try and order two pints of beer and a pack of cheese and onion crisps. Instead, we sat with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and two glasses, hidden away in a back booth and laughing at our clumsy attempts at the French language.

“It’s so embarrassing walking round with Mr Culture speaking fluent French like it’s the most natural thing in the world, meanwhile I struggle asking the man in the shop for a packet of fags,” I complained, chuckling.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what were you arguing about before?” Graham queried.

“Oh, just...” I paused, unsure whether to tell him or whether he’d just agree with Alex. “Well you know how I lost my temper before?” Graham nodded, sucking his lips into his mouth like he always did when he was listening. “Well he made a joke about it, and it pissed me off. I dunno, I feel so tired and miserable recently, and the way everyone has been treating me like I’m totally incompetent at my job is so difficult. Alex is never there, he just swans around doing whatever he wants, meanwhile I just feel so overwhelmed,” I spilled, not even intending to share that much. Something about the build up of emotions in my life and Graham’s reassuring presence at the end of the table made me feel the sudden need to tell him everything. “I just don’t feel happy anymore.”

“I know how you feel, kind of,” Graham reassured, placing his hand over mine, while I took a large swig of wine. Looking back, I think that was the first moment I thought about kissing him. Of course I didn’t, we stayed out most of the night and then stumbled back to the hotel drunk. But I actually considered that maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad if I was dating Graham, not Alex.

October 1996

I never expected the knock at the door. It was a cold night in mid October, so when I opened the door wearing only a large t-shirt and odd socks, the biting breeze nipped at my bare legs. Graham stood there awkwardly, wrapped up in a fleece lined jacket and his eyes slightly glazed in his drunkness. I didn't ask any questions, just greeted him with a hug that lasted a few seconds longer than usual, then invited him in.

Graham wasn't a happy man, but I myself was hardly a ray of sunshine. I sat down next to him on my old settee, lighting a cigarette and refilling my wine glass. I offered him a glass but he shook his head.

"What's up Gra?" I asked him softly, reaching out to cover his hand with my own. He let out a dejected sigh.

"I can't do it anymore (y/n)," he explained. "The band. I'm starting to hate them all. The press, the tours, the people. It's way too fucking much. Damon won't change the music we do, he's being a controlling bastard, and then Alex, fuck." Graham pulled at his earlobe, something I noticed him do often when he was feeling nervous or stressed.

"What is it?"

"He's out living his playboy lifestyle, shagging around, doing lines, drinking champagne. Meanwhile, you just sit around pretending like everything is fine!"

I dropped my hand from his. I wasn't ready for this criticism, especially not from a man who was currently drunk every second of his life.

"It is fine, Gra."

"No it's not, because he barely gives you a backwards glance when he goes out and I have to watch it," he complained. He turned to me, looking over my face like he was drinking it in. "I think you're so beautiful."

"What?"

"So, so fucking beautiful," he repeated. Graham was bad at eye contact, but right now he was drunk, and looking at me with such a sinful look in his gaze. He glanced over my lips, and the small flip in my stomach as he did was my only sign. There had been moments over the past year where Graham and I had shared similar glances, but neither of us acted on impulse, until now.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. Immediately his hands slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and as he deepened the kiss I pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. He assisted my movements, pulling it off to fall lazily on the floor.

His hand travelled down to my underwear, tucking a finger beneath the waistband of my knickers, pausing to see if I stopped him. I did, but only to pull his t-shirt over his head. I had seen Graham without a shirt before, but now I took in his lithe physique and broad shoulders. He slipped his hand to my clit, rubbing it in slow circles. I gasped at his touch and he leant down to brush his lips against my ear.

“You turn me on so much,” he whispered honestly, slipping two fingers inside me and curling them up. I moaned into his neck, pressing a kiss against it. Alex never really bothered with foreplay so this felt like heaven. After a minute he pulled his fingers out to push me down against the sofa, as I pulled him into another hungry kiss. He pushed his hips against mine and I let out another soft moan while he smiled into the kiss. Soon the desperation over took us and I fumbled with his belt, helping him remove the rest of his clothes before he pulled my t-shirt over my head, drinking in my body.

For a second he tucked his hands into my hair, holding my face behind my ears and stroking me cheeks with his thumb, before kissing me playfully on the nose. He pushed himself inside me with a slight groan, watching my face as I let out a satisfied sigh. I felt so appreciated, the way he looked at me was so tender. Unlike my day to day misery with Alex, this felt so raw, so right. He cupped one of my breasts with his hand, kneading it gently as he softly kissed and nipped at my neck. I felt sweat beading along my thighs, pressed into his body as we lay on the sofa, fully naked with the exception of our socks. He picked up the pace, and I could tell he was trying to control his urge to finish as quickly as possible. He rubbed my clit with the rough pad of his thumb, causing me to let out an unexpectedly loud moan as I clenched around him and my body shook. This brought him over the edge and he finished inside of me with a string of swears. He looked at me slightly panicked.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked, and I laughed, nodding, still out of breath and thrumming from my orgasm. He rested his forehead against my own and we lay there for a moment, panting, letting it register what had just occurred. I didn’t feel guilty at all, although I could tell Graham did. Alex had said so many things to me now that I couldn’t feel regret for sleeping with his friend, not when the moment was so sweet. Then he seemed to be pulled back into reality.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, standing up and looking for his boxers. “I didn’t mean to do that, it wasn’t the plan.” I furrowed my eyebrows slightly.

“The plan? What was the plan?” I asked.

“I was going to tell you I love you, but you weren’t supposed to... You were going to tell me to piss off and then I could lay it to rest. I’m sorry. I’m drunk.” He pulled his boxers up and started looking for his jeans, but I reached out for his hand, pulling him round to look at me. I was still naked, knees drawn up to my chest on the sofa. I saw his eyes soften, his behaviour calm.

“Gra, I don’t want you to go,” I pleaded, my voice coming out a lot quieter than i intended. Alex and I had had another argument, and I was already feeling so lost until Graham showed up.

He paused, looking at out two hands together. I held my breath, waiting for his response. I needed him to make the irresponsible decision. Eventually, he nodded, and I nipped to the bathroom to clean myself up. When I came back in, clean and wearing a t-shirt and knickers, Graham had settled on the settee with the telly on, he’d also pulled his t-shirt on. I came to sit next to him, and he rested his head on my chest slightly while I began to run my fingers through his hair and he hummed contentedly. The show was boring, a late night crime drama. Within a few minutes Graham was snoring softly on my chest. I sipped my wine and smiled to myself.

November 1996

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Graham rolled over with a groan of pleasure, panting with sweat on his brow. I turned on my side to face him and he pulled a stupid face, still lying on his back. I let out a sigh and turned over, away from him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, moving closer and pressing a kiss onto my shoulder. One of his large hands rested on my waist and I suppressed the urge to sniffle.

“We don’t love each other though do we?” I said rhetorically.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, if we loved each other, then I’d leave Alex and you’d stop drinking so much.” I felt so bad saying it, but it was true. Even as Graham arrived in a better mood today, there was still an alcoholic taste on his tongue. We’d been seeing each other for over a month, and I knew I wasn’t breaking up with Alex any time soon.

“Maybe you’re right, but still, it feels nice to say, doesn’t it?” he pointed out, nuzzling his head into my neck as he ran his hand round to lay against my stomach, pulling my back closer to his chest.

Sometimes it felt like Alex must have known about me and Graham’s relationship, because he suddenly changed last month. Of course, we still argued. He still enjoyed champagne and cocaine and plenty of women, but god he was good at apologising. After arguments he’d always pull off the perfect apology. He’d me out to an expensive restaurant and completely overlook every gorgeous woman there. He’d make a point of telling the waitress that he must be the stupidest man on earth to have an argument with his ‘beautiful girlfriend’ and would try and show me off to every person in the room. Sometimes his apologies were less flashy, sometimes they came in the form of a home cooked croque monsieur in the morning, and kisses all over my face. Alex had the ability to make me feel both completely worthless and wonderfully special, but when he made me feel so special the guilt always tainted my mood.

In fact, it was at this moment a knock came at the door. I sat up in slight panic. Graham looked at me in confusion.

“It must be Alex,” I told him in a hushed voice.

“Shit.”

The knock came again. I pulled on a shirt from the cupboard, padding through my flat to the living room.

“Hey, (y/n). I know your home,” he said through the door.

“Can you come back later, Al?” I asked, doing up a couple of the buttons. “There’s someone here at the minute.”

“No, just open the door,” he persisted. I sighed, walking over and unlocking it. I stood there in a just the oversized shirt and some underwear I’d pulled on. My bedroom door was shut, Alex wouldn’t mind as long as he didn’t know who was in there.

“I’m in the middle of something,” I said slightly exasperated.

“Fucking hell, you look good,” he grinned, looking me up and down before pushing his way past to get into my flat.

“Hey, don’t come in!” I protested.

“It’s fine, love. I left my keys somewhere here, I just came to grab them,” Alex replied, going into the kitchen and picking them up off the side. He walked into the living, cheeky smile on his face. “Hey, can I say hello to whoever is in there?” he teased, stepping towards my bedroom door. I rushed forward, pushing him away while he teasingly stood his ground.

“No you cannot, it’s weird. If I come into yours while someone’s there you look like a philanderer, but when you come here guys think you’re my pimp or something,” I argued, managing to get him across the room toward the front door.

“Okay, fine,” Alex agreed, dropping his hands to around my waist. “Kiss goodbye?” he requested in a silly voice, tilting his head to the side. I rolled my eyes, but agreed. He pressed his lips to mine for a moment, dropping his hand to squeeze my arse jokingly, and I pulled away to give him a lighthearted smack on the arm and hurrying him out the flat.

When I walked back into my room, Graham was still nestled beneath the duvet, his head poking over the top.

January 1997

"You have to be joking, right?" came the surprised voice of Blur's bassist. Alex was stood in the doorway of a backroom at Groucho's. His pupils were like goddamn dinner plates, as per usual, but for once he was acting surprisingly sober for someone so off their tits. We'd been caught, and as Alex cast a disbelieving look between myself and his bandmate my heart dropped down into the bottom of my stomach.

I had been dating Alex James for just about two years, and had known him for four, and although our relationship wasn't defined as such, it was a rather open one. This, however, seemed to be a breach of our agreement. This wasn't a random person, or even a distant friend, this was Graham.

When Alex had walked in, he'd come across a scene that was a little bit more than over friendly. The guitarist had his hand underneath my skirt and was kissing my neck while we laughed drunkly. Of course, then came the interruption, and we had jumped apart at the arrival of my boyfriend. I sat awkwardly, chewing my lip, feeling like a naughty school kid. Nobody spoke. It was difficult to know what to say. There was no chance of convincing him it was less than he thought, I'm sure our guilty faces spoke volumes. After a pause that went on for way too long, I tried to speak up.

"Al-" I began to reason but my voice was cut of.

"No," he interjected. "I can't fucking believe it. You're my mate, Gra. You're in the band. Of course, the quiet, sweet one. Works for you doesn't it? 'Cause this whole time you've been fucking my girlfriend," Alex snapped. I saw Graham look down, his jaw clenched slightly. I wanted to reach for his hand but I knew it wasn't the time.

"Alex,” I warned but he scoffed at me.

"Piss off with that, (Y/N)," he scolded with an incredulous laugh. "Get your stuff from my place tomorrow, but don't come too early 'cause I'm bringing home that blonde girl from the bar tonight," he told me harshly, leaving the room, probably to go practice his lines in the bathroom.

I sat back down next to Graham, my frown mirroring his. I tipped my head onto his shoulder, and he pulled me into him with a comforting arm. It was difficult to pin down my feelings, although guilt was the presiding one. I felt especially guilty for not finding the ability to care that Alex had just split up with me. I felt tears prick my eyes, unable to stop myself from crying. Graham tilted his head to me, brushing the tears from underneath my eyes with his thumb, and pressing a kiss onto my forehead. I tried to pull him in for a kiss, to distract myself from my current feelings, but he turned his head away.

“Now’s not the time,” he told me gently.

February 1997

I didn’t expect to still accompany the boys on the American tour, in fact, I was aware Alex had greatly argued against it, but Ivan had insisted. I was under contract to the record label and familiar with the set up and how the band liked things. I rather have stayed in London to be honest.

Before we left, Blur released their self titled album, kicking it off with a 'secret' gig at the Astoria to a sold out crowd of two thousand people. The mood was so elevated, all tensions seemed to be erased. A huge after party went down. It was packed with Britpop royalty and went completely out of hand. That night I even stupidly assumed that things would go back to normal, water under the bridge.

I only listened to the album two days later. It was totally different to anything they'd done before. I recognised the influence of the underground bands Graham listened to, although the tone seemed slightly ironic. The album seemed fast paced, but then, halfway through the album came an unexpected softer number, Graham's soft voice coming into my living room through a layer of crackly voice effects. The first verse was despairing. I knew Graham was struggling with his alcohol, but I'd been doing so awfully myself that I didn't even realise how bad it had gotten. It was the chorus that really ruined me though; heartwrenchingly honest and bitterly optimistic. I didn't care if he'd written it about me or not, but that last line hit me somewhere deep in my heart and put tears in my eyes. By the time the song had ended I was a sniffling mess on my living room floor and brimming with such a strong sense of love.

We left to France two days later. The crew were acting strange with me. Everyone knew that I’d now slept with two members of the band, and there was lots of implication I was going to try a third. Damon was acting well off with me and usually I found myself sat with Graham receiving glares from both Damon and Alex. We had to go through Paris and then Tokyo before we arrived in the US at the beginning of March. Things were okay when we all got drunk enough, the boys tended to forget about my crimes against the band. We did sing alongs at our hotels. Alex got a bit arsey when Graham fell asleep with his head in my lap in Tokyo, but he’d happily bring girls to drink with us and happily snog them while I was sat there. I didn’t mind, the part of me that cared was so easy to shut off now.

I loved Japan, and the Japanese loved Blur. Damon was particularly popular with his blond hair, blue eyes and pretty face. The reception at the airport was always brilliant. There would always be a crowd of teenage girls desperate for a signature off their favourite band member, I think one of the Gallaghers already said it, but it was like a second wave Beatlemania. I usually sat back with Ivan, watching the boys deal with their fans, especially Graham. While Alex and Damon used a charming smile, Gra always seemed so unsure what he was doing was right. It was very endearing. I wanted to stay as far away from fame as possible.

Me and Alex’s breakup was extremely high profile. Of course, why we split up was a public mystery, only adding to interest levels. We kept our relationship fairly private, although I had experienced the odd incident with paparazzi, but the Blur management team saw great opportunity for promotion with our split. I was hounded by music journalists for weeks, and photos of me suddenly started appearing all over the gossip magazines. As much as I didn’t want to be stuck on tour with Alex, I had to say it was a relief to leave it behind.

Graham still came to my hotel room late at night, but for both of our sakes he left way before the sun rose. That part was the hardest, when he climbed out of bed to get dressed and leave. I’d watch him put on his clothes, peeking my head over the bedsheets and not speaking. He’d press a kiss to my forehead and tiptoe out the room, back to his own. Then I was alone. I think that fear of being alone was what kept me from ending things with Alex, because staring up at the ceiling after Graham left was the most saddening feeling in the world. I couldn’t say I love you to him anymore, even if I did. When I was still with Alex, it was just a phrase, but then it had become an empty promise. I was far too scared to bear my soul to him like that. I think it upset him slightly, when I wouldn’t say it back, but he never mentioned it.

It was moments like that, lying alone in bed and feeling totally isolated, with nothing but the rushing thoughts in my head, that I would have given anything for Alex to burst into my room and pick a fight with me again. Sometimes I wanted him to loose his temper, to see me across the room and to shout at me, to call me names. His willing acceptance of the situation hurt me most. His ability to move on like it was nothing.

March 1997

Things went downhill once we arrived in America. Everyone was jet lagged from the flight and we were mainly travelling around on a tour bus. Being in such close confines did have a habit of getting on everyone’s nerves. I was sharing a tour bus with some other sound technicians, which was a nightmare. I was the only woman on tour, and every morning I got up an hour before everyone else so I could get dressed without being stared at by a group of blokes. Unfortunately, I was also going to bed in the early hours of the morning anyway, so I was feeling twice as exhausted as usual.

Suddenly, Alex seemed a whole lot more pissed at me than before. Any time Graham and I were even in the same room, he would glare until one of us left. He couldn't help but leave snide comments.

The other issue with being on tour was privacy. I barely got a second alone with Graham. Damon had walked in on one of our few opportunities, while Graham had his head between my legs, and aside from it being very embarrassing, since the incident Damon had been twice as off with me as ever before. Eventually, Graham and I settled for cuddles and conversation, this seemed to cause the least tension.

One night in Detroit, we all went out to a bar. I found in America all anyone ever wanted to know was 'what you did'. Of course, this was in reference to career, but I'd recently found entertainment in replying "nothing much". I spoke to lots of American's, receiving regular compliments on my accent. We drank lots, Alex ended up taking a very attractive blonde girl to the tour bus, leaving the rest of us to continue our evening by drinking enough to knock out an elephant. At one point I wobbled outside for a cigarette and some fresh air.

I stood by the back door and the bins, inhaling the smoke and letting the cold sober me slightly. Then, a very drunk Damon stumbled out the pub, proceeding to bend over by the wall and vomit onto the floor and his trainers. I rushed over, putting a hand on his back and trying to shuffle his feet away to avoid where he was being sick. He finished throwing up and swatted me away.

"Piss off (y/n)," he slurred. "It's your fault it's like this." I stepped back, surprised at his words.

"What?"

"You cocked everything up!" he whined, leaning against the wall for support. "You broke Alex's heart, and now he's mad at Gra, and now Gra's in love with you and you're going to hurt him. Fucking hell, (y/n), look at him! Can't you see what it'd do to him!"

I couldn't help it. For what seemed like the millionth time in the past month, tears prickled my eyes. I never usually cried, but now all my emotions lay very close to the surface.

"I don't want to hurt Graham, Dames. I never wanted to ruin anything," I sniffled, taking a drag from my cigarette to try to calm my wavering voice. "I love Gra, I really do, it's just... complicated."

Damon's eyes softened slightly, and then he fell over into his own sick.

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.22)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Twenty Two) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,519 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior, drug use

Part Twenty One || Part Twenty Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Sullen, you walked out of the bathroom. Luna had started scratching, luring you out of the bathroom, and she bolted in past you towards her litter box. You had been in the bathroom for almost a half hour, crying over the test you had been clenching in your hands. You had eventually tossed it into the waste bin, closing the lid so you did not have to look at it anymore. But it did not erase the fact you knew you were pregnant.

The apartment was quiet and you wondered if you were alone but coming out of the hall, you saw the balcony door was open, the curtains moving gently in the breeze. Tony was sitting out on the balcony in one of the new patio chairs that had been bought for the new space. He heard you shuffle in and turned his head. His hand was gripping the short glass tightly — almost empty of the amber liquid. The bottle was sitting next to him on the small table.

You stopped in the doorframe and his eyes ran over you, remorse in his expression.

“I’d offer you some but...” Tony said, stiffly holding his glass up briefly, trying to joke but it fell flat under the weight of the situation.

Tossing your hands out defeated, you asked tearfully, “How… why would he…”

“What do you want to do?” Tony asked, sincerely.

He sounded genuine, like he meant it that he wanted your opinion. The first time he had ever asked you to have control over a choice had to be this.

“I don’t know,” you told him, sniffling. Wiping at your eyes, you asked, “Have you spoken to him?”

Tony let out a wry laugh and said, “’Spoken’ would be a very loose term.” He saw you were looking at him expectantly and he offered, “I saw him last week. The same day you got moved. We fought. Badly. I actually suited up.” Your eyes widened. “I can’t take him hand to hand without it. I provoked him though so what else should I have expected?”

“What do you mean ‘provoked’?”

“I was furious about what he’d done and I made some snide remark about how he never seems to be able to be sure he’s the dad. It was… warranted but it wasn’t helpful. In hindsight, I mean.”

“So, you haven’t told him that I’m pregnant. That’s what I’m asking.”

“No,” Tony said quickly, his eyes stern, locked with yours. “No. I am not going to do that. You think he’s been bad? If he found out that, I don’t want to think about what lengths he would go to. I can tell you exactly what I think you should do and that’s making an appointment, terminating, and not telling him about it at all. But… what do you want?”

He watched you intently and you finally said, “I need some time.”

It looked like that was not what he wanted to hear but he said nothing, just taking another drink, finishing off his scotch. His phone buzzed and he looked over lazily. He rolled his eyes and opened up the bottle again.

Knowing the answer before you even asked, “Steve?”

“Mhmm,” Tony answered, pouring himself another small glass. He twisted the cap back on and picked up his glass. “He must have visited the apartment and realized you’re not there. I’m surprised he waited a whole week with how angry he was when I saw him last.”

“I suppose I should just go turn my phone off because I don’t want him blowing me up,” you muttered, turning and walking back into the apartment.

<><><>

You had taken the day to figure out what you thought was best and even if it still felt a little rash, you felt confident that you could get the upper hand. Closing the bedroom door, you went and sat on the edge of your bed. Tony was working on his laptop in the kitchen with his headphones in. There was little risk he was going to overhear the conversation you were about to have.

“Where are you?” Steve answered tightly.

“Good morning to you too,” you replied coolly. “I think you know why I’m calling.”

“I have an idea. Look, Y/N. I can get that you feel a little shook up by what happened but—"

You interjected forcibly, “Why did you do it?”

He hated being interrupted, especially by you. And you heard it in his rigid tone, “Do what? Take you on the mission? Not tell you beforehand. You’re going to have to be clearer.”

At least he was aware he had fucked up multiple times. But he was not talking about his most egregious fault to date.

“My birth control. Why do you want me pregnant?”

It was quiet for a beat before Steve let out a scornful laugh. “Ah. So, Tony did say something. Bastard couldn’t keep it to himself.”

“Well, it does involve him pretty intimately!” you snapped. “You didn’t just fuck me over, you could have fucked him over too.”

Steve sounded a little breathless when he asked, “Are you...”

You detected an uptick in his voice; he sounded hopeful. And you wanted to sock him for it.

Not answering him directly, you inquired, “What if it’s yours? What then?” You could hear him breathing and you pressed when he did not answer quick enough, “What then, Steve?”

“If it’s mine and my wife’s isn’t mine, then I want it. I want my child.”

That is what you thought he was going to say and you played your card, “What do I get?”

Chuckling, Steve asked, “Bargaining, are you?”

“Seems I have the power to do so potentially. So, if it’s yours and you want it, I want you to buy me out. I don’t want to owe you anymore.”

“You talk to Tony about that?”

“I mean half Steve. The half you have invested. Don’t worry about Tony and I.”

“You still want to be with him,” Steve mused. He sounded dejected; you had wounded his ego and that was apparent. But what else did he expect with how he had treated you?

“Do you agree?” you asked ignoring what he said.

It sounded like it took everything in him to say the words; like he said it through gritted teeth. “Fine. I’ll pay you out.”

“And if it isn’t yours? Tony doesn’t want another kid. And I can’t get tested until nine weeks for paternity and it takes ten to fourteen days to get results. I would need an appointment made shortly after. To terminate, I mean.”

Steve was quick to answer, sounding sour. “Tony’s got connections.”

“You’ve got connections. This is your mess.” Steve was silent and you pressed, “I’m only going to agree if you agree to pay me out either way it lands. You owe me that. You betrayed me—“

Steve started to laugh, scornfully saying, “Betrayed. Do you hear your—“

You cut in forcibly, having a lot bigger confidence being on the phone and not having him tower over you, although you were shaking from nervousness still, “And you guarantee an appointment for termination if it’s Tony’s and not yours.”

“You might not even have to wait for the 9 weeks,” Steve said. “My wifes got an appointment in three days. I can order a test for her. If it’s mine, then you’re off the hook.”

‘Off the hook’, you thought to yourself angrily. Like it was a light thing you were discussing.

“If it’s yours, Steve, and I go through with this, I want it in writing. Legal. All of it.” You made yourself sound as threatening as you could.

“Man, you are learning very quickly. It’s impressive really. Where do you want me to send the document to?”

He was trying to be clever and figure out where you were. Get you to slip up in your emotions.

“Nice try. Tony doesn’t even know I’m calling you.”

“Hmm. He wants to keep you hidden away then. Classic Tony. He doesn’t like sharing; he was a spoiled, only child.”

“Or maybe he’s pissed at how you treated me,” you snapped, annoyed he was acting like Tony had done what he had out of left field.

“Right. Ticked off protective daddy. What do you think his endgame is? With you, I mean, dove.” The nickname made your skin crawl now. “Do you think he’s going to continuing pampering you? Forever? Tony gets bored quickly.”

You were not here to play mind games with him, and you were not going to rise to his bait. You were fighting one battle at a time, and he was yours right now.

“Look, I’ll talk to him,” you said, wanting to end the conversation. “You can give it to him at the facility.”

“Cause him and I seeing each other went so well last time,” Steve chuckled, and you knew he was referring to what Tony had told you about their physical altercation. “Fine. Work your magic on him. I doubt he’ll tell you no though cause he can’t deny you anything.” You gritted your teeth at his bitter tone. Steve tried another angle, “You really won’t even meet me in public?”

“No. One, because I know you’ll probably try to follow me and secondly, I don’t want to see you. Not after what you did at the docks and now this.”

Steve exhaled sharply and his tone made your skin crawl with apprehension at its ferociousness, “If you are carrying my child, Y/N, you need to see me. I will be around. I want—“

“You’ll want what? To have access to me?”

“You’re damn right. To check in.”

“I can take care of myself,” you said, fighting to keep your voice even.

“I don’t trust that!” Steve snapped. “You – or fucking Tony – won’t keep me away entirely. I won’t stand for it. I’ll be at the doctor appointments. I won’t budge on that, Y/N. I deserve to be there.”

You bit your cheeks, your mind racing. You had not anticipated him wanting to be around like that. You thought you could go through the pregnancy and give him the child at the end. It seemed he was not going to make it that easy.

“Y/N?”

“Fine. If it’s yours. Doctor appointments. But that’s it.”

“Good. Glad you fucking understand. I’ll be in touch,” Steve said tersely before hanging up without saying goodbye.

<><><>

Steve was fuming when he hung the phone up. She was getting mouthy, and he hated she was dangling it over his head like she was. He had planted the idea though, her paying off her debt. She had found a way to get him by the balls and he had to play the game.

He let out a shout, kicking the waste basket by his desk, sending it careening into the wall.

<><><>

Chewing your salad, you shot a look at Tony across the table. He was eating while he was working on a hologram. You had gotten off the phone with Steve and hour ago and made up a chicken salad for the pair of you. You had been quiet while Tony worked – he had a problem of stepping away when he was set on something – but you needed to confess because you needed him for this to work out.

You swallowed your bite and said bluntly, “I spoke with Steve.”

Tony stopped chewing and snapped his gaze up to you. He asked with a full mouth, “Excuse me?”

Twirling your fork around, you admitted, “I called him. He wasn’t here at the apartment. Obviously. You were here. You would have known if he was.”

He swallowed his food now, tossing his fork into the bowl, and then demanded, “Why?” He actually turned off the hologram. Apparently you could pry his attention away with the right motivator.

You met his eyes and said, “I wanted to hear it from him. Why he did it. And he told me...” you paused before saying, “And I wanted to know what my stakes are.”

“‘Stakes’?”

“Yeah. Like what if it is his? What happens? And what do I get for carrying it for him?”

Tony’s expression pulled a 180 from confused to irritated. “Y/N, you can’t think—“

“I can think, actually,” you cut in harshly. “Very well too sometimes. He’s gonna pay me out of his half of the contract he said if I carry to term. Regardless of if it’s his. If it’s yours, he’s gonna set up an appointment to terminate. I’ll be free of him either way.”

“Free of him...”

“I don’t want him touching me ever again.”

Tony relaxed if only for a second at your admission, but the moment was brief. Exasperated, he argued, “I fully heartedly understand that, love. Believe me, I do. But... you can’t expect him to keep his word. He wouldn’t do it for me and —"

“He will keep his word, but I need your help. He is going to get a legal document done up about it. All the terms, if it is his.” Tony looked shocked. “I would.... really appreciate it if you would grab it from him and also make sure it’s legit. I don’t want loopholes.”

Tony ground his teeth, looking pensive. “I’m gonna regret this.”

<><><>

“And the paternity test you ordered,” the doctor said, finishing listing off the things they would be going through during the appointment.

Cecile’s head snapped to Steve, who looked unperturbed. As he should since he had called the office himself to add it to the appointment. She was unnerved. “Paternity... Steve, you said you were waiting until after the baby is born!”

“I want it done now,” he returned dryly, meeting her eyes. She opened her mouth to protest, and he told her sharply. “This isn’t a discussion, Cecile.”

Cecile reluctantly closed her mouth, and the doctor went on, acting as if nothing had happened — he was on Steve’s payroll after all —, “It takes ten to fourteen days for results, Mr. Rogers. But I’ll make sure it’s done in ten for you.”

“I’m aware. And thank you for that,” Steve responded. He tossed a look at Cecile, finding her looking down at her stomach, gripping it possessively. He felt sick satisfaction seeing the worry etched in her features. He loved her so damn much and for the first time in a while, he felt like he had control over her again.

<><><>

You were sitting in one of the patio chairs, sunglasses on, relaxing in the early spring weather. It was still chilly, so you had a sweater on, but you were content.

Your phone drug you from your thoughts and you turned your head to look over at the small table beside your chair. Your stomach clenched seeing that Steve was calling. This was it. You shot a look back inside, seeing Tony snoozing on the couch with Luna. You got up quickly and closed the patio door before answering the phone with a quick hello.

“It’s not mine,” Steve greeted you.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics @agustdowney @fanofalltheficsx @buttercandy16 @last-saturday-night @woohoney

[earlysunsetsoverambrose]

Fool For You (4/4)

Lester Sinclair x f!Reader

Warning: Cursing

A/N: Final part of a request for @mynameisliterallycash!

As soon as you were out of the cabin, you started sobbing. Raw, painful cries fell from your lungs and throat, wracking your body. You felt empty and dejected; utterly pathetic, crying like a lost little kid with nowhere to run. You were too miserable to even feel the bitter cold of the rain. At least no one would be able to tell you were crying. Your sprint eventually died down into a slow walk. You were in no hurry to get anywhere. You weren’t ready to go back to Ambrose just to face more humiliation from Bo. God, you felt so stupid. You just wanted to curl up and let the rain wash you to some other place.

Just as your sobs subsided to quiet hiccups, you heard the roar of tires along the road accompanied by the honk of an all too familiar horn. You didn’t turn. You couldn’t. You were determined to keep walking. You saw Lester’s truck pull up from the corner of your eye, slowing to match your pace.

“Y/N, will ya please get in the truck?” Lester called to you from his window.

“Go away, Lester.” You said, continuing forward while your heart pounded painfully against your chest, “I just want to be alone, okay.”

“You’re gonna catch your death out there! Please just get in and talk to me!” he tried to reason. You didn’t respond this time, “Fine, then, don’t talk, just let me drive ya the rest of the way. I’ll do all the talkin’.”

“I don’t want to hear it right now!” You said, desperate to get away and escape the consequence of your confession, “I know we have to talk eventually, but I’m just not ready right now, okay! So, leave me be, please, Lester! Just go!”

“Ya know there ain’t no way in Hell I’m gonna just leave ya.” Lester said, offended at even the suggestion of abandoning you.

After a few more feet of following next to you, Lester pulled over and got out of the truck. You hear his footsteps quickly approach behind you. He caught up to you, taking a step in front of you and blocking your path, holding up his hands defensively.

“Please, Y/N, just hear me out. I wanna explain some things, if you’ll let me. I know ya don’t want nothin’ to do with me right now, and I got no right askin’, but I got a lot I gotta say, and I’d really like for ya to hear it. After that, ya can do whatever ya want. I promise I won’t stop ya.”

The frantic, pleading look in those eyes you loved so much drew you to comply. You glanced back at the truck and then at Lester. With a heavy sigh, you turned started toward the truck. Lester opened the door for you and helped you up before sliding in next to you.

He took the jacket he had on the seat beside him and wrapped it around you. He rubbed up and down your arms, doing his best to dry you off and warm you up to ease your shaking. You were now very aware of how cold you were. He looked you over, making sure you weren’t hurt any worse than he could see.

“Ya okay?” Lester asked carefully, brushing away the hair that stuck to your face; relieved you didn’t pull away this time.

“I’m tired, Lester.” You answered honestly, “I’m so tired of these feelings. I’d been waiting and hoping to tell you all about this someday, but now that I have, I just feel like an idiot. I think I’ve made enough of a fool of myself today, so whatever you’ve got to say, please just say it.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Lester said looking at you, hoping you’d return his gaze, “I must be the dumbest guy alive to not get what ya was tryin’ to tell me.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s not your fault if you don’t like me.” You told him, throwing him a half-hearted smile, as bitter as it felt.

“Now, hold on a minute,” Lester said in an even voice, “I never said that.”

Your eyes widened at his words, dangerous hope started bubbling in your heart again. You turned to face him completely, hanging on everything he was about to tell you.

“All the nice things ya been doin’ for me: the huggin’, the treats, all the extra time ya spent with me, were cause ya love me?” Lester asked, looking to you to reaffirm his understanding. You nod. “I’m still tryin’ to get it through my head is all.”

“I know I dropped a lot on you. I’m sorry about that.” You said, finding more patience at the sincerity in Lester’s realization unfolding before you.  

“No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ever makin’ ya any less than happy. I didn’t mean to make ya feel like ya didn’t matter to me. Cause that just ain’t true! Far from it. And I never ever wanted to make ya cry. Don’t think I’ll ever quite forgive myself for that since you’re the last person I wanna hurt.” Lester told you, shaking his head at his previous ignorance. He looked back up, straight into your soul, “Y/N, I love ya too. Much more than a friend. And I know now I shoulda told ya a long time ago, but ya mean more to me than anythin’ in the whole world.”

“What?” you asked, practically short circuiting. Your mind went blank and your heart stopped in place, stalling your breath in your lungs. That’s all you ever wanted. Tears of joy pooled in your eyes as a hopeful smile took over your features, “You love me?”

“Are ya kiddin’? The sun rises and falls with ya, far as I’m concerned.” Lester told you as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. He beamed at you, with his famous toothy grin lighting up his face at your reaction. He hesitantly reached out to cup your cheek in his hand, taking your melting into his touch as permission to keep it there and stroke your soft skin, “I’ve loved ya since day one, and I’m gonna keep lovin’ ya til the day they dress me for my coffin.”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” you asked

“Hell no. I thought I was the last man you’d ever love, and I wasn’t lookin’ to get my heart broke.” Lester said with a remorseful chuckle, “Never thought you’d see anythin’ in me worth carin’ ‘bout. Course ya see the beauty in everyone, so shouldn’t’ve ever doubted ya.”

“You’re right. You should never doubt me,” you teased, “But I understand. It’s not like I was very forthright or mature about any of this, either.”

“I won’t make that mistake again, believe me. I just thought all those things ya been doin’ for me was cause you’re naturally so sweet anyway.” He explained.

“Guess we should have had a little more faith each other.” You said, somehow able to laugh at the situation, burying your face in Lester’s shoulder, clinging to his arm once more, “We’ve been wasting all this time wallowing in self-defeat before we ever even tried.”

“Ya know, the funny thing is that I’ve loved bein’ your friend so much that even if that was all God or whoever granted me, I’d die a happy man.” Lester admitted, “Ya just seemed so out of my reach, that when Bo told me ya had a crush on me, I figured he was just havin’ a go at me so I’d embarrass myself in front of you.”

“Bo told you I like you?” you asked, a little pissed that he had been meddling in your romantic affairs. But you should’ve guessed, knowing Bo.

“Well, yeah, but he also convinced me that girls lay eggs right ‘fore they start bleedin’ every month, when I was a little kid. So, he don’t always tell me the truth.” Lester recounted, rubbing at his neck, embarrassed that he ever bought such a bogus story, “Got caught checkin’ the toilets at school for eggs once. I really got an earful from the principal for that. Confused the hell outta the folks when they heard.”

“You what?” you responded, unable to contain your laughter. You both burst into a seemingly endless fit of laughter. All the pain and sadness from just moments ago had dissipated, and you were left with faces that hurt from smiling too much and cramps from laughing too hard.

When you were finally able to collect yourselves, you and Lester simply looked at one another, dreamy smiles taking over both of you. He had your hand in his once again, playing with your fingers as he spoke,

“I should tell ya, I nearly choked on my guts when we met. I saw ya and that smile of yours stopped me in my tracks. And, lord, your laugh could bring a man to his knees. Felt like I got the wind knocked outta me the first time I heard it.” Lester told you, reliving the very moment in his memory as he said it out loud. “S’pose that’s why I always try so hard to keep ya laughin’.”

“Well there’s no one I’d rather laugh til I cry with.” You said, bringing your other hand to encompass his, “Besides, you’re the best at making me laugh, doesn’t seem like you have to try at all.”  

“Good, I’ve got ya fooled, then.”

“Oh, I’m definitely a fool, alright.” You told him, affection and fondness at the forefront of your every thought. Lester felt giddy at your words, turning the lightest shade of pink as he rubbed his neck again. Emotion shone through his captivating earthy eyes, finally showing you all that he never allowed himself to feel before. Longing grew across his stare, echoing the same look running wild in yours.

“Uh, ya know, earlier, when ya kissed me back there? I know it don’t seem like it, but that kiss damn near set me on fire.” Lester confessed, his voice in a hushed voice “And I know I’d give anythin’ for a little more.”

“Les–”

“I know I ain’t anythin’ to write home ‘bout. I ain’t smart and handsome like Bo, or artsy like Vincent, and I certainly don’t got much money. I can’t give you nothin’ ‘cept me and this rickety heart ya got beatin’ a mile a minute. But I’m ‘fraid it’s the best I can do.” He told you, with a guilty smile, trying his best to fight through the feelings of inadequacy that had run rampant in his system for so many years.

“Listen to me, Lester,” you started as you took his face in your hands, so you knew he would hear you, “You don’t have to be anything other than who you are, because that’s who I fell in love with. You are everything I ever dreamed about or wanted out of love. I love you as you are.”

Lester felt tears welling in his eyes this time. That’s all he’d ever wanted to hear all his life, and it meant everything coming from you.

“I think I’m the real fool between the two of us,” Lester said, “But if you’ll still have me, I’d like to make up for everythin’ I missed; and take all the time I got left in the world and give it to ya.”

“I’ll have you as long as you’ll do the same for me.” You answered with a tearful smile, absolute joy taking full control now. You leaned your forehead against Lester’s, caressing his cheeks, “I don’t want to waste another day without you.”

“Well, I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Lester promised. His beautiful brown eyes almost glimmered to emphasize the heartfelt nature of his oath. He stared at you for just a moment, wanting to memorize every single part of this moment between you. He could think of only one more thing to ask of you, “Would it be alright if I kissed ya?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” you told him, nuzzling your nose against his with a smile that sent his heart skipping all the way to Mississippi.

He took you into his arms, drawing you closer to him with your hands still cradling his face. He caught your lips in a firm kiss, steady and careful, yet still brimming with passion and all the affection he had to offer. Your two hearts were beating in time with one another, falling into a familiar rhythm known only to you and Lester.

When you both pulled back, you were out of breath in the best way. This was so much better than anything out of your dreams.

 “I love ya, Y/N.” Lester told you once more. You would never grow tired of hearing him say that.

“I love you too, Lester.” You responded, tenderly. Lester leaned in again, kissing your cheek before sitting back up in the driver’s seat. With one hand on the wheel, he kept his other arm wrapped around you, drawing you to his side like he’d been doing it all his life. He kissed you once more on top of the head, right after he started the engine.

“Let’s go home.” Lester said, never more satisfied.  

The rumble of the road beneath the tires was now a comfort to you, as it brought with it the unique familiarity and intimacy that came with knowing Lester. You rested you head against his shoulder, cherishing every bit of what you used to miss.

As you started your journey back home, you couldn’t help but notice the storm clouds had finally given way to the brilliant shades of the sunset; painting your world in a thousand hues of pink and orange. You glanced up at Lester once again, both of you glowing with the light of a brand new love of your own. Good thing you got out of bed. If you hadn’t, you might never have lived to see a view as perfect as the one from where you were seated.

You closed your eyes, smiling as you pictured the road ahead. Good or bad – it didn’t matter to you either way. Life had never seemed more beautiful. You could hardly wait.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Mod Lenny, I keep re-reading part 4 of The High Road and the Low Road hopeful for part 5. Is it coming soon? Thanks for writing!

The High Road and the Low Road - Part Five

After learning the truth from Claire, a furious Brianna runs to Craig na Dun to prove her mother’s crazy only to fall through the stones herself.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

****************************************************

Young Ian looked smug about something. Jamie knew that was rarely a good sign. Having sufficiently scolded his nephew – who hadn’t even bothered to lie or twist the truth about having absconded from Lallybroch without his parents’ knowledge – Jamit turned his attention to the lass Young Ian had brought with him. 

She looked petrified, poor thing. Who was she and what had Young Ian told her as he brought her here? Why had he brought her here? No doubt part of her open-mouthed fear had to do with the yelling Jamie had just done in front of her. 

“Apologies, lass,” Jamie said, bowing his head in her direction. “I ought not to have carried on so in front of ye. I’m Alexander malcolm and–”

“I already told her that’s no yer name, Uncle,” Young Ian confessed. 

“Iffrin,” Jamie muttered under his breath. 

The lass continued to watch him carefully. I unnerved him, her gaze. There was something familiar about her… He must know some of her people – her father or a sibling perhaps.

“Ian says yer name is Brianna?” The name felt awkward in his mouth.

“Brianna,” she confirmed but with a different emphasis, a different accent. Her voice was quiet and unsteady. 

“I met her on the road from Lallybroch,” Young Ian explained. “She was lost and I told her I’d help her find her way to Inverness on my way back. I told her ye’d be fine wi’ her stayin’ wi’ us as I couldna leave her to fend for herself.”

Jamie kept his face controlled, motionless as he fought the urge to wring his nephew’s neck. His rented rooms were small and cramped and he felt no guilt making Young Ian sleep on the floor when he ran away like this – just part of his punishment really. But he couldn’t let the lass sleep so rough. What had possessed the lad to make such an offer?

“Ye’re lost then?” Jamie asked, turning to Brianna, hoping her plight would help to calm and refocus him.

But she only nodded, still too nervous or frightened to speak.

“Well, Ian’s right – I’ll no turn ye away do ye need a safe place, but it’s no the lap of luxury.” 

All he got was another nod.

Jamie sighed and reached past the shrinking girl to take Young Ian by the shoulder and pull him toward the back of the shop. “A word,” he demanded. 

“Where did ys find the lass?” he asked under his breath, his eyes drifting to watch her as she relaxed a little and began to look around the shop.

“It was near the fairy hill,” Young Ian explained quietly. “Craig na Dun.”

A chill went up Jamie’s spine at the mention of that dreaded place. Perhaps the lass – like Claire – had been ripped from all that she knew and was truly lost the way Young Ian said… Had she confided in his nephew? Would she need more help than the lad kent to offer?

“And ye say she’s on her way back to Inverness?” Jamie raised an eyebrow at Young Ian who tried his best to look insulted.

“Tha’s where she asked to be taken,” he explained.

“And so she will be,” Jamie nodded. “Because I’m going to see here there with ye.” (With a stop at the stones if it pleased the lass.) “Then I’m takin’ ye all the way home to Lallybroch.”

Young Ian’s face fell at the prospect.

“But Da’s likely on his way to fetch me as it is and ye cannae afford to take the time away,” the lad objected. “Really, it would help you and them back home more did ye convince Da to let me stay here and work wi’ ye.”

“I’m no interested in an apprentice as doesna do as he’s told,” Jamie countered. “Stop runnin’ away, help yer mam and da for a year wi’out complaint and then we’ll see if ye’re a fair prospect for me to take on. Now, we’ll leave tomorrow if I can manage the arrangements this afternoon. Day after if it takes longer to settle. And whatever this costs me in business, ye’ll be makin’ up to me should I desire to hire ye in future.” Jamie pointed a finger at an increasingly dejected Young Ian before turning to the lass to tell her the plan. 

She was standing Looking over the copy of Pamela from the shelf of popular titles he stocked for patrons to examine. And she was. There was an amazement and reverence to how she held the book, a care to how she turned the pages, a curiosity as she ran her finger over the seams and spine.

“Ye can read then, lass,” he said, unintentionally startling her. 

The book fell to the counter as she pressed a hand to her chest and muttered, “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.”

Jamie had been reaching for the book as he saw it falling but was lucky to grab the counter and brace himself as he felt the world shift beneath his feet.

“Uncle Jamie?!” Young Ian cried, dashing over to the man’s side. “Are ye alright?” He looked to Brianna, confused.

But her full attention was on Jamie and she looked frozen and maybe a little terrified.

Jamie brushed off Young Ian’s hand as he got his feet back under him, his own gaze fixed on Brianna, looking her over more closely. The familiarity he’d felt before… how had he misplaced it? She looked like the portrait of his mother still gracing the walls of Lallybroch. He’d always found something irresistible about the way Claire carried herself – not the self-assured confidence of a vain and beautiful woman used to being flattered (though Claire had certainly been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen), but the confident bearing of a woman who knew and was sure of herself.

Despite the uncertainty and hesitation in her eyes, Brianna stood taller, rising to meet and hold his confused and hungry attention. It was something he’d seen Claire do a hundred times.

“Ye ken who I am?” Jamie croaked, then swallowed hard against the swelling in his throat. His hands felt clammy and shook as he tried to wipe them surreptitiously on his breeks. “Are… are you who I think you are?” he whispered.

“Are you Jamie Fraser?” Brianna asked, her eyes darting briefly – accusingly – to Young Ian. “Your nephew never did tell me your real name.”

“I am,” Jamie nodded. “And ye’re my… Claire – she… she told ye then? She sent ye?”

“She told me,” Brianna confirmed quietly. “She also told me you were dead.”

“Then she is yer daughter,” Young Ian piped up, victory rising in his voice. “I kent ye must be, soon as ye said yer mam’s name was Claire and that she was English. Ye’re the spit of Uncle Jamie and everyone at Lallybroch kens the stories–”

“Ian,” Jamie interrupted sharply. “Go see to the back.”

“See to what in the back?”

“Just go.”

“Ah… right. I’ll leave ye two to get acquainted,” Young Ian rambled, color rising in his cheeks and a smug expression blooming on his face. He disappeared from the room, though, and Jamie finally looked away from Brianna long enough to move to the front door and lock it against further disruption. 

“Is Claire… How is she?” Jamie asked, still too unsure what to make of the grown daughter standing before him. 

“Well, she’s probably worried and pissed at me,” Brianna said with a wary sigh. “My trip here wasn’t exactly planned – I mean, not just to Edinburgh but to seventeen-whatever year this is.”

“1766,” Jamie informed her. “It’s been twenty years since I bid yer mother farewell… I’ve thought of her – of both of ye – and prayed for ye every day since then.”

His voice was quiet and sad, broken and earnest. It tugged at Brianna’s chest in an unexpected way. She’d heard that sorrowful longing before. 

It had been in her mother’s voice when she’d told Brianna about Jamie – about losing him. 

She took a step closer to him and reached out to rest her hand on his arm. He stilled beneath her touch like an animal spooked and debating whether to flee or play dead. The thought helped put her own trepidation into perspective. He was just as intimidated by her as she was by him – perhaps more.

Brianna reached for what they had in common and found further comfort in speaking about her mother. 

“I’m pretty sure she thought about you and prayed for you a lot too,” she told him. “I didn’t know about you for a long time growing up, but since she told me… there are a lot of things about her and about her and Daddy that make more sense now.”

“Frank,” Jamie replied with a tamed disgust that gave Brianna pause. “Did he treat ye well? Both of ye?”

“Always,” she said confidently before flashes of doubt flickered in her now-untrusted memory. “At least… I know he loved me and never treated me… I don’t even know. I never doubted him or questioned that he – and I always though he and Mama were happy. Now… now I wish I’d listened to her more when she was telling me the whole story and that I hadn’t – well, let’s just say I could’ve handled the news about you better.” She flushed, remembering her behavior.

For the first time the air of sorrow and longing lifted and she noticed curiosity creep into Jamie’s face.

“Aye, I can imagine it must’ve come as a shock to ye,” he assured her, his tone slightly cautious. “I didna ken what to make of it myself when she first told me the truth of where she was from. Didna matter much to me either – I was already too far gone for her. But she didna seem to care o’er much for my askin’ her was she a witch.”

Brianna stifled a laugh as the mental image of her mother first as the Wicked Witch of the West popped into her head before it transformed into Claire as Glinda floating in her giant bubble. Traveling by bubble was far more appealing than the thought of touching those stones again.

“I may have called her a few colorful things,” Brianna confessed. “I don’t think ‘witch’ was one of them, though. No, I was thinking more about the poker I hurled through the window,” she added in a quieter voice.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise and then she laughed. The surprise faded to an amused and prideful smile.

“Well… that might be a bit of the Fraser temper,” Jamie told her with a knowing nod, then leaned conspiratorially forward. “Though yer mam did throw a bit of crockery now and again – usually at my head.”

It was Brianna’s turn to mirror his surprised and impressed expression. This time they both laughed, drawing Young Ian from the back room.

“Ye’re no laughin’ at me, are ye?”

****************************************************

Ian had secured them lodgings for the night. They would reach Edinburgh the next day by his reckoning and he assured Claire that it was highly likely that Brianna and Young Ian had already reached the safety of Jamie and the printshop.

“Ye’ve heard it from at least three folks as have seen them making their way,” he reminded her as they ate from a tray in their meagre room. She would (reluctantly) take the bed while Ian and Roger made do on the floor with the pillows and blankets she insisted they take from the bed. 

“Aye, Claire,” Roger chimed in, “she’s no alone and that’s the key thing. She’s safe and we’ll find her.”

“I don’t doubt that,” she asserted, though with less conviction than she hoped to convey. “It’s just… if I’d known he was alive and that they’d be meeting one another… It’s not how I would’ve wanted them to meet is all. For them to be blindsided by it–”

“I doubt Ian managed to keep it secret from her, did he truly ken who she was,” Ian speculated. “He’s the Mackenzie knack for plotting mischief, but no the knack for carrying it out well. More like to muck it up, that one,” he finished with a laugh. 

He rose to carry away the empty tray over Claire and Roger’s objections. 

Left alone, Roger still kept his voice low as he asked Claire, “Have ye thought what ye mean to say to Jamie when ye see him? What it means now ye ken he’s alive?”

Claire face told him what he already suspected – she’d been thinking of little else.

“Ye said it gets worse each time ye try to pass through the stones, aye? And ye werena sure ye’d even survive a trip back… Maybe… maybe it’s because yer place is here with Jamie,” he suggested.

“And where would that leave Brianna?” Claire challenged. “She’s still not over losing Frank and everything she’s ever known has just been pulled out from under her. What kind of mother would I be if I abandoned her now too?”

“Maybe ye won’t have to choose,” Roger replied, hope and resignation warring within him. “Maybe she’ll want to say.”

“I doubt that very much.”

Roger looked at Claire until he caught her attention completely.

“She didna just pass through the stones and run straight back,” he reminded her. “Brianna chose to come to Edinburgh. And she’ll have met a father she didna ken she had. You didna think to stay until ye met Jamie. She might surprise ye.”

“I’ve lived longer with both Brianna and the pull of life on either side of those stones,” Claire pointed out. 

“And? What do ye think will come of it?”

“Heartbreak. Maybe not at first, but eventually. And the bit before the heartbreak has to be enough to help you survive it all.”

“Well,” Roger nodded and smiled. “I’ve heard ye tell plenty of yer time here before ye went back, so I think it’s a safe bet to say it will be.”

[stressisakiller]

Forgive Me Sunflower

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

(Hello Sunflower Part 10) EDITED 

Summary:  What happens when Bucky wakes up to your bed empty and a strange note on your pillow

Warnings: refences to torture. Murder. cussing

Word Count: 4 k

A/N:  Can you figure out what her secret message was?  Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future chapters! Thank yall for reading!’

Thoughts are in italics

Series Masterlist

<< Previous   Next >>

Life in the tower fell into a peaceful rhythm. Waking up before the sun, heading down to the training rooms. Beating the shit out of Bucky, occasionally you let him win, then breakfast with everyone. Steve and Bucky always made sure to go for a run together, while they were out you went upstairs and sat in the lab with Tony. You may not have had a normal childhood but you “father” hadn’t let your education suffer, we believed that knowledge was everything. So, you were able to help out occasionally with the problems that arose. 

While he worked Tony enjoyed telling you stories, about himself and your parents. You quickly felt as though you got the chance to know them. As much as you loved these stories it broke your heart that you were the reason they were no longer here. 

Tony was finishing one such story when he noticed the dejected look on your face, he quickly switched to telling you about how he became Iron Man. He explained the cave and the fear he felt while stuck there, although he would never admit that to anyone else. He told you of the man who helped him and saved his life, of his sacrifice and the change it caused in Tony’s life. He told you about being betrayed by the man he had trusted the most, you could relate to that. 

Life was good, really good. You felt safe with the people around you, you felt loved and trusted. You felt like you had a family. But of course nothing lasts forever.

You lived in peace for two months. Two months of happiness and tranquility, or as much tranquility as a group of superheroes are able to have. The tranquility was shattered one morning about a week before the avengers were to go to trial. 

Waking up that morning Bucky got ready as always, he headed down to the training rooms and was surprised to see that you had yet to arrive. Weird, you always arrived before him. He went back to the elevator and headed to your room, some nights you liked to sleep in a space that was your own. Opening the door his eyes fell on your empty bed, it was still made, as if you never made it to bed last night. Worried he hurried over to your bathroom and knocked,

 “Hey sunflower, you in there?” the silence that answered him was overwhelming, you weren’t here. 

Where on earth could you be? Upon closer inspection of your room his eyes fell upon a note laid purposefully on your pillow. He carefully made his way over, watching closely for any trip wires. Lifting the card from your pillow he cut open the top with one of the knives on his belt. His eyes scanned the note, he felt the breath leave his lungs, was this some kind of sick joke? He took a deep breath trying to calm himself down before rereading the paper in his hand.

Bucky,

Hello, I'm sorry that I must tell you this in a letter, sunflower. But the time has come I must leave before the sun is up. I can't follow your dreams for us anymore. I have my own and they don't involve you right now. We are done my sunflower. Don't try to find me 

Your star,

Ps forgive me

There was something off about the way the note was written. It was worded strangely, it didn’t sound like you at all. Not to mention the fact that you would never leave your soulmate like this. He thought back to the night before, you had been just as cuddly as normal, you had fallen asleep on him during the movie that you were all watching. He had gently woken you and walked with you to your room, you had given him a quick kiss and a smile before walking through the door. Bucky shook his head, bringing himself back to the problem at hand. He examined the wording carefully, looking for anything that would explain where you were. There it was, oh you clever, beautiful woman. Of course that would be your message, there is only one explanation as to where you are. Fuck. His face paled as the meaning of your message sunk in. You had been forced to write this message and yet you had found a way to tell him who it was. Hydra.

Your day was going well, you had a great time training this morning, you had pinned Bucky no less than three times. Tony had been in a good mood while you sat with him, his newest project was going smoothly and he was excited to see it in action. The best part had been the movie night that the group decided to have. You fell asleep on Bucky, how could you not, he is just so warm. He had taken you back to your room and you had kissed him at the door before parting ways. That is when it all went to shit. A hand closed over your mouth and a gun pressed to your temple. Your brain was still fuzzy with sleep, putting you at a disadvantage, it was quickly clearing but not quite as quickly as you needed. As the fog began to clear you began debating the best way to incapacitate the guy who currently had his hand on your mouth. So focused on the man behind you, you almost didn’t notice when a shadow moved in the corner in front of you. Almost, the moment that the movement registered in your tired brain you froze.

“Please don’t try to escape, we need you to come with us.” The disembodied voice was eerily familiar although you couldn’t figure out why.

You struggled against the iron grip of the man behind you, at the prompting of the man in the corner, he slowly lowered his hand from your mouth allowing you to speak.

“And why the hell do you think I would do that?” you spat at him.

“Simple,” his calm demeanor was starting to give you the creeps, how could he be so calm right now? “If you don’t we will kill every single person in this building and maybe their families too while we are at it.” your eyebrows rose at his statement, 

“Just the two of you?” disbelief evident in your voice.

He laughed, a humorous thing, it sent chills down your back.

“Of course not, stupid girl, there are more of us in this building right now. If you cooperate then they won’t need to be used, they will leave as soon as we do.”

How could you trust him to keep his word? But if you didn’t go with him then there was no way for you to protect everyone. You head swam, you knew he wouldn’t wait long for your answer.

“Fine, but you have to swear that you and your men will leave everyone else in this building alone.” 

“You have my word, he only wants you right now anyway.”

“He?” your curiosity got the best of you

“Hydra, of course, now I need you to write a letter, one that explains your absence. One that explains that you don’t want anyone looking for you.” His voice was firm, and you knew that you had no choice.

You nodded your agreement, and the man behind you loosened his grip, but the gun stayed trained on you. You walked to your desk and brought out a pen and some paper, taking a second to figure out how to let Bucky know that you were in danger. The solution popped in your mind and you jotted down your note, hoping that he would understand. As soon as you were done they tied your hands together and pulled you to their escape route. With surprising speed and ease they got you out of the building and thrust you into a car. You fought against your bonds until a needle was shoved in your neck, blackness filled your vision and your eyelids felt like lead, the last thing you heard was a man barking directions before sleep took you.

Cold. All you can feel is overwhelming cold. Whatever you were laying on felt like ice. Fighting against the weight of your eyelids struggling against the darkness that held you. Voices, you could hear voices in the background. Trying to focus on their words but unable to understand what they meant. Wake up, you thought. Wake up! WAKE UP! Forcing your eyes open you flinched as a blinding light forced you to snap them shut. Breathe. Slowly opening your eyes, you take in your surroundings, it looks familiar. Fuck. You were back, they had you again, and you walked right into their arms. Tears welled up in your eyes causing your vision to waver. No, you would not cry, you refuse to cry. They don’t get to see you break. A voice brought you out of your thoughts, eyes shooting to the door. No, no no no no. Not him, anyone but him. But his voice was unmistakable, your heart dropped, your father. No you remind yourself, not your father, just an asshole that stole you from your family and forced you to become a monster. You would not let them break you. The door swung open and the face that has been haunting your nightmares since you escaped walked into view, a cold and calculating smile on his lips. 

“Well, well. It is so good to have you back, my daughter. I so missed having you here.” fake sincerity that made your toes curl laced his voice. The gag in your mouth kept you from spitting on him, all you could do was glare. You felt so helpless. He always made you feel so fucking helpless.

“Now now, sweet girl, no need for anger, you must have forgotten that all I have ever wanted is the best for you. You lost yourself these past two years, but don’t worry we will soon remedy that.” He stepped towards you, a rope in his hand, you looked up at him, eyes widening in fear and anger, this was going to hurt.

Bucky ran into the common room, eyes scanning the room widely, gone was the cool calm and collected Bucky. This Bucky had just lost his soulmate to the very people that you had finally been able to escape. He will do anything to get her back. His eyes fell on Tony pouring himself some coffee into a mug you had recently bought for him. Bucky stalked over to him, trying to keep his overwhelming fear from showing on his face. Tony looked up at him as he walked closer, giving him a smirk,

“Hey there grizzly bear, someone steal your honey and piss in your cheerios?” His smile fell as he studied the soldier, Tony had never seen him like this, something terrible had happened.

“What is it? What happened?” Going from playful to serious in a split second. His eyes scanned the room and noticed the lack of his sister, “Where is Y/N?”

 Bucky couldn’t seem to answer, he just held out the note. Quickly reading it Tony ended up even more confused,

 “there has to be a mistake, she would never leave like this.” desperation coloring his tone and he looked back at Bucky. Bucky shook his head, 

“She didn’t, she was forced to write it. She left a hidden message, she was taken by Hydra.” 

“Fuck!” Tony had to stop himself from throwing his mug across the room, it was a gift from you and he would hate himself if anything happened to it.

 “Ok what can we do, we need to find her.” He started to ramble about all of the things he could do and how they could get to her before Bucky held up a hand to quiet him. 

“I think I know where she is. There is a Hydra base in upstate New York, they don’t know that I know about it. I was supposed to be under their control when they took me there but I was slipping, more of myself than the soldier at the time.” He spoke quickly, he wanted to get to her as soon as possible. Tony nodded and called for Jarvis to gather everyone in the mission room. They filed in confused as to what was going on, Steve was the last one to sit down. 

“Y/N has been taken by Hydra and we are going to get her back.” Bucky was clear and concise as he explained the plan to them. If everything went according to plan they should have her back in the next two days. 

Time meant nothing to you. You couldn’t tell how long you had been back in the clutches of the asshole you used to call father. Has it been a day? A week? A month? All you knew was pain. Your thoughts felt fragmented. Like dandelion fluff in the wind. Bucky would come. Keep Bucky safe. All that matters is keeping him safe. Don’t let them see you break. Your head lolled to the side when you heard the door open. He was back, couldn’t he just leave you alone? Freezing water was thrown over your battered body, you bit your tongue to keep from gasping. Cuts stinging from onslaught, the deeper gashes on your tattoos making the water run red.

“Hello, sweetheart, I think you’re ready to be our soldier again.” His eyes were filled with glee at the prospect of being back in control of you, he had so many ideas of what he would have you do, who he would have you kill. He paused, letting the news sink in before continuing.

 “There is no way you can hold out this time.” Your eyes slid from his face, too tired to focus, too tired to fight. The scientist minions unstrapped your limp body from the table that had been your home since you arrived. They dragged you, feet scraping against the floor, to the machine that you had hoped to never see again, the blender. They threw you into the chair and strapped you down, removing the gag and shoving a rubber piece into your mouth. You wanted to fight but you couldn’t feel your arms. They placed the helmet on your head and turned the machine on. 

Bucky, forced himself to calm down, they would have you back soon. It had taken them a day to confirm your location and get ready to leave. Now he sat impatiently in the quinjet with the rest of the Avengers, wondering what awaited him at the base. Praying that you were ok, that he wasn’t too late. A voice came over the intercom letting them know they were 5 minutes out. He stood keeping his hands busy with getting ready, pushing aside his worry and doubt. You needed him and he wasn’t going to let his fear get in the way of saving you.

 The plane touched down and the soldier was on the move. Ruthless and concise the soldier cut through the guards and anyone who got in his way. The only person that matters to him is his soulmate, the one he is here to save. He made his way through the base quickly, his steps never faltering as he moved towards the room that he knew they would have you in. The room that was the scene of every one of his nightmares. He busted through the door and stepped into the room, the one with the blender, the one where they brainwashed him. 

For the first time during the mission his steps faltered, the soldier was devastated by what he saw. You, alive yes, but battered and bruised, face pale and blood running from multiple cuts. A dark purple bruise obvious around your throat. Your face was full of bruises and cuts, your arms were the same. You were staring straight forward, eyes void and he knew he had failed you. He moved to step towards you but your fathers voice caused him to stop.

“Soldier, are you ready to comply?” Bucky wanted to punch the grin off of his face but all he could do was watch. 

“Ready to comply.” your voice was ice, lacking any of its usual warmth and emotion.

“Kill the winter Soldier, I have no more need for him.” You snapped to attention, turning to your enemy, deciding the best way to attack. You charged. Bucky brought his arm up in time to block your attack, moving quickly to protect himself without hurting you. You quickly flipped him on his back, standing over him, he looked at you with defeat, he couldn’t hurt you, not this time. A twinkle came to your eyes that hadn’t been there a moment before, and you did the last thing he was expecting, you winked. Bucky moved quickly rolling out of your grasp, keeping up the ruse and noticed that your blows were softer than they would be in a normal fight, you were still there. You yanked his pistol out of his holster and pointed it at him, finger on the trigger. 

“Well,” came your father's voice, impatience coloring his tone,

 “what are you waiting for? Shoot him.” Bucky saw your trigger finger twitch before you moved, a shot ringing out in the otherwise quiet space. 

Blinking Bucky turned to see the body of your father fall to the ground, bullet lodged between his eyes. Shaking off the sense of deja vu he looked back towards you. Although your actions showed that you were still at least sort of in control of your body, he could tell that the soldier was at the controller. He took a cautious step towards you. You spun, and pointed the gun at him, a glimmer of recognition in your eyes before you slowly lowered the gun. Bucky reached for the gun keeping his movements slow as he released your hold on it. Gently grasping your chin, he turned you to look at him. 

“Hello, my star,” His voice was soft, “It’s your sunflower, it’s time for you to come back to me.” Your eyes seemed to focus for a moment before you spoke,

“I have to finish my mission.” your voice was firm

“What is your mission, my star?” he asked, keeping your eyes trained on him. 

“To keep my soulmate safe, that has always been my mission.” you looked confused at his question as if the answer should have been obvious. He smiled, cupping your cheek in his hand.

“I am safe, my star, your sunflower is safe. Your mission is complete, you can let go.” At his words, your eyes rolled back and you collapsed. His arms wrapping around you before you could hit the floor. Bucky picked you up and began to carry you out of the godforsaken base. 

You wake for a moment as he carries you towards the exit, seeing his face, you were able to  relax for the first time in days.

“Bucky?”

“Hush, little one, I have you now, we are heading home.” 

The next time you woke up you were in the tower hospital, feeling weak but better than you had when you passed out. Your eyes were drawn towards the hand that currently engulfed yours, it was connected to the sleeping form of your handsome soulmate. Reaching across yourself with your free hand you ran your fingers through his hair. The soft feeling, waking him up from his sleep. Raising his head Bucky looked at you. Tears forming in his eyes as he noticed you were awake.

“Hi,” your voice was rough from screaming. His eyes softened, his metal hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

“Hi yourself, little one, you scared the shit out of me.” you chuckled at him

“Wasn’t my intention love, they got me to go with them because they threatened you. I promised that I would take care of you. I didn’t mean to cause you pain.”

“No, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize, I am just happy that you are back with me and that you are safe.” he rested his forehead against yours as he spoke, as if he could force the words into your head. You cleared your throat, a question at the forefront of your mind.

“What day is it? Did I miss the trials? Knowing them they took me when they did to keep me from testifying, they wanted me to forfeit my right to be heard.” you anxiously awaited his answer, worried that you had ruined everything.

“No, little one, we still have a couple of days before the trials start. You were gone a total of two days, and out of consciousness another. You will still be able to make it to the trial. I have a feeling that your injuries might just swing the jury in your favor.” His lip turned up, but there was pain in his eyes, he drew his hand from yours and gently rested it on your hip where the cuts were the deepest, they had cut you to figure out which tattoo was your soulmark.

“Well I’m glad something good came out of this.” sarcasm evident in your tone as you tried to make light of the situation.

“Well that and the death of the asshole that took you from your parents.” Bucky didn’t try to hind the venom in his voice as he spat out the words. Your eyes widened, 

“Wait what? He’s dead?” Bucky looked confused at your question before understanding washed over him.

“Little one, he turned you into the soldier and told you to kill me. You pulled your punches and when you stole my gun he ordered you to shoot me, but you shot him instead.” 

You could tell that he was a little worried about how you would react. As much as you hated the man you had still believed him to be your father for the majority of your life.

“Good, the bastard deserved it.” you looked away from Bucky’s face as you spoke, shame prickling behind your eyes because of the sadness you felt.

“I do have a question though, how were you able to fight his control? Why didn’t you shoot me?” You looked at him surprised by his question.

“They haven’t truly had control over me since I got my tattoo.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you thought back to it. “When they tried to activate the soldier after the mark showed up I was able to talk to her. We agreed that you were as much her soulmate as you are mine and that we would both do whatever it takes to protect you. You became our mission.” you took a deep breath before continuing, pulling your eyes from Bucky’s face.

 “The soldier and I are one, as much as I hate a lot of the things she did, she had as little of a choice as I did. She takes control when they activate her, but I am no longer trapped in the backseat. I’m able to talk to her, and most of the time, she listens.” 

Bucky looked down at his hands in confusion, wondering if he would ever be able to say the same about himself and the winter soldier. Could they ever work together? He let the thought go as he watched you yawn. 

Picking you up, he took you back to his room, you were well enough to sleep in a real bed tonight. Heaven knows you needed it. He laid you down and pulled you close, smiling at the feeling of you nuzzling into his side. Those questions could wait till later, for now, he would enjoy sleeping next to his soulmate again.

Tagged users: @calwitch @writerwrites

[ellewritesathing]

Ten Things    V

Summary: If there’s one thing you have to know about Harvey Kinkle, it’s that he rarely thinks things through. So when he meets (and falls for) Sabrina Spellman on his first day of Baxter High and finds out that she can’t date anyone until her tempestuous sister does, it seems like the obvious solution is to get someone to date her so he can go out with Sabrina. A not so obvious choice for the challenge is Caliban, but, hey, it’s not like Harvey thought that far.

Masterlist  Prev. | Part 5

Word-count: 3.1k+

A/N: sorry for the delay girls and gays (and nonbinary pals) but i finally got accepted into uni so i left the house yesterday for the first time in three months lmao 💕

Harvey had been on cloud nine ever since he dropped Sabrina home after that party. Sure it had only been a few hours ago, but still. He was so incredibly, idiotically happy that nothing could ruin his mood. His dad being pissed at him for coming home late rolled right off his back. Tommy needing the truck and him having to walk to the diner just didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Sabrina kissed him. 

Even waiting for Caliban when he was fifteen minutes late didn’t matter. Harvey just replayed last night in his head and the time flew by. 

Caliban threw his stuff down in the booth before collapsing in. “Why are you doing that with your face?” The fact that he bumped the table and almost spilled Harvey’s drink didn’t bother him. Neither did the scowl on Caliban's face.

Harvey frowned slightly. “What am I doing with my face?”  

“Well, it’s a bit better now,” Caliban said, stealing one of Harvey’s fries and munching it with a fury. “You were smiling.” 

“Is smiling bad?” 

“When it makes you like an idiot, yes.” 

“Oh.” Caliban’s horrible mood didn’t matter. Harvey told himself that Caliban just wasn’t a morning person. Or an afternoon person. Or even really a night time person. But Harvey persisted. “It’s just ‘cause I had a really good night.” 

Caliban rolled his eyes ever so slightly as he reached over for Harvey’s milkshake. He took a slurp from the straw before saying, “You and Blondie made up, I take it?”

“She asked for a ride home,” Harvey said before Caliban had even finished his sentence. “And at first I didn’t want to help because I was so mad but you should have seen her, man. I couldn’t not help her. So, I drove her home and then we stopped and I just started telling her about how shitty it was to be used and all this other stuff and then she kissed me.” 

Caliban didn’t say anything as he stared at a baby a few tables over who was stuffing their face with mashed apples. When Harvey didn’t say anything for a while, Caliban eventually looked over at him. “Where'd she kiss you?” 

“In the car!” 

“No, I meant-” Caliban sighed and shook his head. He held up a hand and gave Harvey a tired smile. “Never mind. I’m happy for you Harvey, truly.” 

“Thanks, man!” Harvey said cheerily before ordering another milkshake from the waitress and Caliban asked her to make it two. He turned back to Caliban with his almost permanent smile and asked, “So how did your night go?” 

Caliban snorted and finished what was left of Harvey’s original milkshake. When Harvey didn’t respond again, he sighed and said, “She hates me because I didn’t want to make out with her in front of her house when she was a drunken mess.”

“What? You can’t know that she hates you,” Harvey said quickly. He scurried to sit up straighter and reached out to Caliban. 

Caliban dug his phone out of his pocket and slid it over to Harvey, open on the chat between the two of you, with your last text being sent at 2am and reading: YOU’RE A REPUGNANT ASS AND I DIDN’T WANT TO KISS YOU ANYWAY. 

“Oh,” Harvey said softly, locking the phone and sliding it back over to a very dejected-looking Caliban. “I mean, she didn’t say exactly that she hated you.” 

“Harvey, I’m pretty sure that her calling me a repugnant ass means that she hates me,” Caliban said, rolling his eyes and reaching for where his cigarettes used to live. He cursed when he realized they weren’t there.

“Well, she called me the dumbest boy scout in the troupe but she punched Billy in the mouth when he said I was stupid,” Harvey said with a shrug after he thanked the waitress for the new milkshakes. “So maybe calling you a repugnant ass means that she really cares about you but doesn’t want to admit it.” 

Caliban was quiet, seemingly mulling it over. Then, with no warning, he snatched up his new milkshake and angrily started drinking it. 

“But, uh-” Harvey shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It felt the moment for asking had passed but he couldn't help himself. “You’re still gonna ask her to prom, right?” The glare Caliban shot at him blew Harvey straight off cloud nine. “It’s just that I really wanna take Brina to prom, you know, and she can’t go if her sister doesn’t and-” 

“If I say that I’ll try, will you stop talking?” Caliban asked. Harvey didn’t want to risk it, so he nodded quickly. “Fine then. I’ll ask.” 

“Seriously? Dude, you are the best friend I’ve ever-” Caliban threw a fry at him and Harvey stifled a laugh. “Okay, okay, no more talking. You got it.” 

Caliban seemed content and went back to glaring at the very messy baby across from him. 

“But, uh, one last thing?” Harvey asked quietly. He held up a napkin that he’d fastened to a straw to show surrender. “A wise man once told me ‘people eat that cute affectionate shit up.’ I think you should keep that in mind?” 

“Is that all, oh wise one?” Caliban asked. Harvey nodded and took a sip of his milkshake. “Fine. I’ll take it under consideration.” 

--- 

Caliban had already made up his mind about fixing things with you, but - now that Nicholas Scratch had found him in the street and started harassing him - he had second thoughts. Not about you (you were a perfect pain in the ass; nothing could change his mind about you) but about the whole situation. He didn’t want to ask you out if it meant Nicholas Scratch could benefit. 

“Come on, man, you’ve gotta do this,” Nicholas said for the millionth time. “You’re the only person that can stomach her.” 

Caliban wondered how many times he’d have to hit Nicholas’ head before it made a dent in his hair gel. His skull seemed more malleable.

“Better yet: You’re the only one that can make her act like a human being,” Nicholas said. He let out a long breath when Caliban’s only response was to glare at him. “Fine. How much is gonna take?” 

“Excuse me?”

“How much money is it gonna take for you to do this?” Nicholas dug his wallet out of his pockets. “You said three hundred a few weeks ago but that was before you knew she's literally Satan incarnate, so I’m guessing you want more?” 

“Listen here, I don’t-” 

“I’ll give you five hundred dollars right now if you agree to take her to prom.” 

Caliban’s resolve faltered. Five hundred dollars was a lot of money. It could really help out with his uncle’s medical bills. Caliban’s jaw tightened as he thought about it. If he was already planning on asking you out, was the added money really that bad? 

Nicholas patted Caliban’s arm as he handed him the money. “Don’t feel bad, man. Everybody’s got a price.” 

---

You spent most of the day after the party being in an even worse mood than you usually were, alternating between throwing up and eating anything and everything that Hilda baked, and Sabrina constantly bubbling over with stories about her and Harvey didn’t help your mood. Seeing as you’d thrown up more than you’d like, you locked yourself in your room until you had to leave for school on Monday. 

You left while Sabrina was still asleep so you didn’t have to listen to her perfect stories about her perfect life on the decidedly not perfect drive to school. With the music turned all the way up and empty streets keeping you company, it was easy to drown out most of your bitterness. Your more-or-less of a good mood soured when you saw Caliban in the parking lot.

He was just as annoyingly good looking as he was at the costume party, just not in the flowy white shirt anymore. Today he was dressed in a yellow ringer shirt with gray accents, his practically permanent leather jacket, beat-up converse, and a pair of irritating black jeans. To top it all off, he didn’t look like he’d spent the weekend throwing up or like he had a pounding headache. The bastard. 

Ordinarily, you would have tried to hit him with your car, but Caliban was already safely inside the school doors by the time your engine had switched back on. After some light profanities, you gathered your things and prepared yourself for yet another mundane day at Baxter High. 

Luckily, everyone must have sensed the thundercloud over your head because they stayed out of your way more than usual. Thanks to the added space, things were actually looking up by the time you got to the library for lunch. 

And then came the first flower. 

“Harvey-” 

He cut through your warning with his winning, boy-next-door smile and set a single red carnation on your table. “Chill. It’s not from me,” Harvey teased. He seemed caught off-guard by your silence. He drummed on the table. “See you around.” 

As if that wasn’t suspicious enough, Harvey disappeared just as quickly as he’d arrived, and you barely had time to pick at the carnation’s edges before the next one showed up. The guy bringing this one was smaller, more unsure, but just as cute as Harvey was. And he had better hair. 

“It’s Theo, right?” you asked, looking up from the red carnation in his hand. 

“You know my name?” Theo asked. Oh man, if messing with Harvey was fun then this adorable kid was going to be something else.

“Only if I’m right.” You reached out to take the carnation from him before he combusted. “Are you going to tell me what all this is about?” 

Theo tilted his head to the side as he took a few steps back. He had some nerve. “Are you gonna beat me up if I don’t?” 

And he was gone before you had a chance to come up with something witty. Clearly, all the alcohol from the party had rotted your brain cells and made you lose your touch, and it was pissing you off. Just like the string of nerds who kept coming up to your table and leaving you with more and more red carnations. 

You’d made up your mind to kick the teeth in of the next person who gave you a flower when a very familiar voice took over the PA system and tv screens. 

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Caliban and I really, really messed things up with a girl.” He was sitting on his usual bench near the soccer fields, squinting slightly in the sun. He scratched his forehead for a moment. How did he hijack the systems? “She won’t take my calls or answer any of my texts, so I had to get creative. Apologies for those of you who really buzz one off to lunch-time announcements but- oh shit.” Then, to the person behind the camera: “Can you follow me?” 

Whoever was behind the camera must have said yes because soon they were both running for the bleachers. Judging by shoes and laughter, the cameraman was Harvey, and - judging by the blurring shots behind them - they were being followed by Hawthorne and the basketball coach. Despite your best attempts not to, you felt yourself smile.

“I’m afraid I have to cut my monologue short and get straight to the embarrassing crap- No, that first bit wasn’t embarrassing, you piece of shit. At least I don’t kiss people on the top of their fucking-” 

The video cut off briefly and when it returned, Caliban and Harvey were running again. 

“We’re back? Great.” Caliban stopped for a moment and turned, grabbing onto the camera and steadying it for a moment. He had bits of gold in his eyes. Asshole. “I’m sorry. Here goes my attempt at making it up to you, princess.” 

Caliban paused briefly, taking a breath, and then launching into a rendition of Frank Sinatra’s I love you. You had to admit, it was pretty impressive how he kept singing despite simultaneously outrunning the authorities chasing him down. But still, you were pissed. A song didn’t change the fact that he- 

Oh, no. Harvey went down. Caliban helped him up but it slowed them down too much and now Hawthorne and the others right on top of them. The camera shut off right after Caliban told you to call him (with an annoying, butterfly inducing wink) and Hawthorne told him to shut up. 

You were laughing before you could stop yourself, and you were still smiling embarrassingly when Sabrina slid into the seat across from you and placed another red carnation on your table. She smiled sweetly and gave you a moment to settle into your familiar scowl. 

“So are you going to forgive him?” Sabrina asked. 

You crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair. “Because he gave me some flowers and sang me a song?” 

“Because he got you an entire flower shop and got detention for the rest of the semester,” Sabrina said in her ‘you know I’m right so just listen to me’ voice. If she wasn’t your sister, you might have punched her. 

Still, you considered it. The punching, not the forgiving.

“He didn’t actually say he was sorry,” you said lamely. 

“Sorry for not kissing you after you got drunk out of your mind and threw up on him?” 

No, for leading you on. For being there while you were sloppy and vulnerable and then rejecting you. If that wasn't enough, he rejected you after you spilled your guts to him in that god-awful car of his. 

“Caliban seems like a pretty good guy underneath that leather jacket,” Sabrina said in a more gentle voice as she reached out for your hand. When you didn’t meet her halfway, she settled for picking up one of the carnations and standing up. She walked around the table to stand in front of you. “And, believe it or not-” she tucked the carnation behind your ear and smiled “-I think you deserve a good guy.”

You tightened your jaw and looked at the table. “You just want to go to prom with Harvey.” 

“That too,” Sabrina said with a smaller smile. She patted your shoulder and disappeared into the depths of the library, leaving you alone with your two dozen red carnations and even more staring teens. 

---

After being berated for his lack of respect for authority and blatant abuse of school resources, Caliban was forced through the rest of the school day and locked in a classroom with about fifteen other ‘hoodlums’ and Wardwell. The hoodlums were told to keep to themselves, and Wardwell typed away at her computer. 

As boring as it was, the thought of you chewing out each and every kid he had deliver flowers to you was a comfort. He wondered how you took the broadcast, if you even saw the broadcast. You had to have seen it though, right? It was everywhere. And it was pretty hard to ignore. But if you were still mad at him, you definitely would have left after five seconds. 

Although Caliban still had an allotted hour and twenty-three minutes to wonder if you’d given his little stint the time of day, he was snapped out of his thoughts by the door creaking open behind him. He turned slightly to see you, very awkwardly, making your way up to Wardwell with a red carnation in your hair. 

Caliban smiled.

“Ms. Spellman,” Wardwell said with her usual empty smile. “You’re late.” 

“Oh, no. I don’t have detention,” you said. As Wardwell checked something on her computer, you turned to Caliban and nodded your head towards the window. 

Caliban frowned slightly, tilting his head. Were you organizing a jailbreak for him? Uncharacteristic but charming. 

“Then why are you here?” Wardwell asked, turning her attention back to you. 

“I, uh-” You scratched your head and nodded towards the window again. “I had some questions about the English assignment.” 

“Which are?” 

If it wasn’t so painful watching you blunder through this, Caliban might have actually enjoyed this. Nevertheless, he started sliding out of his seat and heading for the window. 

“Uh, I don’t get why everyone thinks Elizabeth is a jerk for rejecting Darcy the first time,” you said. “I mean, he was just a total ass- jerk. He was a jerk to her and then basically called her an idiot for rejecting him.” 

Wardwell started turning back to the computer - where she would clearly see that Caliban wasn’t where he was supposed to be when you slammed your hands on the desk. Wardwell looked like a deer caught in headlights and Caliban stifled a laugh. 

“But that’s not what I’m here to talk about!” You grabbed Wardwell’s arms and pulled her to her feet. “I’m here because of some really nasty graffiti in the girls’ bathroom. Like really, horrendous stuff. Like, okay, yeah, some of it is quotes about stuff I’ve said to Billy, and I’ll admit that they’re a bit graphic but I didn’t write them on the walls, you know? I just say them-” 

Caliban wasn’t sure how long you kept going on after he snuck out the window, but it certainly took you a long time to meet him in the parking lot. And thanks to him being new and reformed, he couldn’t even smoke to pass the time. 

When you eventually did meet him, you didn't look quite as pissed off as usual but you were definitely still annoyed. You poked Caliban in the chest as you stormed up to him, the flower wobbling slightly as you did. “You owe me,” you told him. “Wardwell made me show her the graffiti in the bathroom and asked which quotes were mine.” 

“It’s not my fault the people find your witticisms endearing,” Caliban said with a smile. You didn’t say anything as you huffed and leaned against the bike rack next to him with a huff. “But thank you for the prison break. It was appreciated.” 

“It better be goddamn appreciated,” you mumbled. 

Caliban laughed and turned to look at you. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t even sure if I could expect you to call me.” 

“I didn’t have a pen,” you said with a shrug, not looking at him. 

"You didn't have a pen?" Caliban asked. 

"I may have deleted your number after calling you a repugnant ass and you responded with 'so you're still thinking about my ass?'" You looked over at him with another shrug. "Not my fault."

Caliban smiled down at you. "No, definitely not."

You clenched your jaw slightly and pressed yourself off the bike rack. “You wanna get out of here before they figure out you’re gone, Sparky?”

Part 6

Tagged:  @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e  @miss--moose​  @marrypuffsstuff​  @harryscarolinaa​  @igorsbby​​  @foji2000​​  @hxlalokidottir​  @artaxerxesthegreat​​  @thxmagic​​  @strawberriesandknives​​  @xealia​​  @hotmessindisguise​  @acciomaximoff​  @reheated-coffee​​  @shelby-x​​  @perseny-blog​​  @millie-753​​  @luneerius​​  @shizzybarnaclee​​  @lettherebelovex​​  @throughparisallthroughrome​  @ietss​  @thebookwormlife​  @mechanicalanimalz​  @mariamermaid​  @nqbmf​  @caliban-is-my-girl  @shephard17895​  @music-movies  @andie-kathleen​  @clockworks-world-to-fandoms​  @luquincy  @marina468​  @olivia-west-allen  @drrramaaaqweeen​  @roxytheimmortal​

[fanfictiondreamscape]

First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 5)

Title: First Kisses (Haikyuu - pt. 5) 

Genre: *deep inhale* FLUFF.

Pairing: Oikawa/Iwaizumi/Bokuto x Reader (separate)

Notes: Okay, fair warning. I’m not too proud of this one, but I knew that an issue would come up the second I decided to include Oikawa in this. (I am seriously trying to write him, but he is surprisingly hard to write for how accidentally transparent his character is.)

Otherwise, I think that this is a pretty decent contribution to the series. I hope you enjoy reading it! 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Masterlist

Oikawa Tooru

trash can needs someone stern

keep him and his somewhat sleazy habit of flirting under control

his s/o was most likely friends with him as well.

they’re also pretty similar to hajime, though they are nowhere near as violent and brash with him as hajime is

that doesn’t mean that they aren’t assertive, though. 

they’d be strong and smart, and they’d know the self-worth of themself and him

otherwise, this boy would want to make a huge show out of the kiss.

like seriously. 

this man has it planned.

super elaborate, super extravagant, and super sweet. that was the general aim for it.

what exactly was to happen? well...not what did.

it was valentine’s day.

a day meant for romance

and, of course, oikawa was gushing about you to anybody that would give him the time of day.

you had tried to stay as close to him as possible, but his delusional fangirls were constantly getting between you two 

(you could have sworn that a few of them had been stealing some roses from the nearby park garden to give to him, and that one of them had stabbed you with the stem of one.) 

(they’re vicious, you’re getting pissed.)

you have to realize that there will be a dance hosted that night for the event, and that you and oikawa have tickets to it 

so you can rest a little easier for the day knowing that you will be able to thoroughly celebrate the day with him once school’s out for the day. 

with the thought lingering, you went about your day and would stay by oikawa as he got pulled between classes by some of his fans

you could always appreciate how he would find a way to get beside you

it was endearing seeing him pout and apologize cutely. 

(you wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but your face said all that he needed to know)

anyways, the day goes by, and eventually lunch hits you two in the gut

hajime had decided to lay back a little as you two went on your way.

you witness a few love confessions in the hallways on the way there, and while you watch the underclassmen blush and stutter, you snicker to yourself

it reminded you of oikawa’s confession to you, and you found it endearing.

(for context, he had asked without stuttering, and when he had gotten giddy and ready to leave, the typically-graceful oikawa tooru had continually tripped and fallen on his face. he sent an unaware smile in your direction every time as you laughed at his overly apparent misfortune.) 

he watched as you smirked. 

he found it amazingly devious, yet oh-so attractive.

it only added to the fact that you were the perfect foil to the setter.

the rest of the walk to the cafeteria was spent in comfortable silence as you two listened to the chattering and the swishing of the wind outside. 

it wasn’t until you reached the aforementioned part of the school that your growing bundle of annoyance had reared it ugly head and disrupted the sweet mood.

you deadpanned as you watched oikawa’s fangirls drop in all at once and practically throw you off and throw their valentine’s gifts in his face.

you hit the floor with a thud, and when you went to get up, you saw hajime holding his hand for you to grab.

he had the same expression on his face, and while you already planned to grab his helping hand, it made the scene a little more manageable 

someone didn’t look away from this crap.

oikawa had noticed how the girls had become rougher than usual today

and he had been getting as annoyed as you had by them

and he had enough when he saw them make you a physical ragdoll.

he tried to compose himself well enough to say something in a mature manner (or, as mature as he could get, at least)

he had an image as a role model to some people, and he didn’t want to reflect a bad persona for them

nor did he want to show you his truthful angry side again 

(you had seen it once, it freaked you out. it took a couple minutes to get you back to your senses.)

so he had made a final decision.

as hajime pulled you up and you brushed off your uniform, oikawa had gently nudged the females away and walked up to you.

with a smile on his face, a genuine one, he cupped your face in his hands, closed his eyes

and kissed you in front of the whole student body.

it was deep, very passionate, and threw you for a loop.

it took you a moment to melt into the experience and, when you did, it got 10x more passionate.

as well as a little messy.

hell, the two of you got so into it that tongue got involved.

it took hajime tearing you two apart to make the time continue and the room stop spinning. 

(seriously, any longer and you two would have been full on making out in front of every student. can’t have that, can we?) 

safe to say, that whole romantic gesture screwed over his plan to do something even bigger at the school dance.

otherwise, the whole school now knew that you two were an item, and that oikawa was off-limits. 

(and that if they were to lay another finger on you, they’d have an angry hajime and oikawa after them)

(the two of you got relentlessly teased by the other volleyball third years afterwards, though)

in conclusion:

fangirls will be annoying, kisses will be magical.

seriously. 

it was surprisingly rough and somewhat harsh

you could still feel the drive to not only protect you, but also pour his heart out to you.

you did the same, of course.

and if it weren’t for the unorthodox timing, the kiss would have probably been more mechanical. 

(the whole topic was something that oikawa had to come to terms with when he had spilled his initial plan to him. he still hates to hear that talk.)

final words? impulsive, passionate, loving, and messy . 

for the whole of the scenario. 

Hajime Iwaizumi 

hajime here? 

he’d like someone responsible.

right off the bat. 

he and his s/o would be able to tackle anything together with their work ethic, and that is something that he’d admire

otherwise, they’d have a similar sense of humor to him and be intelligent (same class, possibly?)

would also be somewhat into athletics. 

imagine like, a past athlete or someone that enjoys working out but doesn’t do it often

(gym buddies? he’d love that)

and the kiss, i imagine, would happen when oikawa and iwaizumi are leaving the game between Karasuno and Shiratorizawa.

the two of them are both a little peeved, which is understandable

but you were there to cheer them up just the slightest

(and help hajime knock some sense into the walking, six-foot-something trash can)

it was following the match that the day just...

went.

it was a little dull (just like my writing as of late, holy-)

but you were persistent on lightening up the mood.

you tried to engage oikawa with talk of space and aliens

(“how about mars? do you think that aliens exist there? if so, would their body directly counteract the heat of the planet?”)

(“how about venus, then? i know that there are different standards of beauty everywhere, but what do you think they’d be like? like, your definition of ‘beautiful’?”)

he was so angry and distraught that he just walked off.

considering you had been friends with the trash bin as long as hajime, you knew to let him be.

you admittedly felt a little dejected, but you knew that things would work out eventually.

hajime had tried to do the same before you had joined them, but the same thing had happened to him in the long run.

with a sigh, you suggested getting some take out and watching a movie at one of your homes.

though slightly reluctant, he agrees.

you shrunk a little further in at his reaction, but you knew that the reaction was just a response to the horrible atmosphere

he, truthfully, was just a little nervous to be alone with you. 

he had been having the urge to kiss you as of late, and he didn’t want to make anything awkward between you two

you had been thinking the same thing, but, hey- 

you were trying to focus on the thought of a movie, food, and cuddling with him

so far, it was keeping you from falling completely into a hollow being for the next few hours.

the walk to the nearest house (yours) was about ten minutes from the intersection that you two left oikawa at

your parents were on a business trip and they trusted you, so things worked out.

when you and hajime were inside the home, you had taken to picking a movie and he had taken to looking at menus that had been stashed in your kitchen

you had settled on a dark comedy while he had reached for a pizza place menu.

everything had slowly but surely begun to settle into numbness (in comparison to the depression of earlier)

it wasn’t until the pizza came that things took a turn. 

you had grabbed the pizza and paid for it with some money that had been left for you.

you took it into the living room, propped the box up and everything.

all ready to devour, your mind went straight to the food.

you took two pieces and ate the both of them before reaching for another piece.

(hajime found the sight of your with your cheeks puffed out from the food the cutest thing he had seen.)

(he also started blushing and tried to hide his face behind a napkin but failed miserably.)

(you noticed.) 

anyway, the pizza was slowly being eaten.

you had been fairly clean when eating, and with the movie contributing to an even higher rise in the mood, you had gotten just the slightest bit messier.

a small spot of tomato sauce was right on the corner of your lips.

haijime noticed this immediately and just knew he had to kiss you now. 

his cheeks flared up again, and he grunted.

“you’ve got some sauce on your cheek”

you turned to face him, and with the way things were looking at the moment, you thought that this would lead to something like a kiss on the cheek to remove it.

oh boy, how wrong were you. 

he raised his hand and slowly wiped the small bit off your lip. 

his hand never left when he got it off, though.

the two of you were just staring into each other’s eyes, both turning as red as the sauce that you had just eaten.

he gulped before he asked you the question.

“can i kiss you?”

it was quiet, it was serene, and the tv in the background was completely forgotten when you responded with a ‘yes’.

he leaned in and met your lips with his, and hoLY-

time really flat out stopped. 

he was a little rough,  but he was pouring every ounce of love he had for you into that smooch

his passion shone through and jesus, you couldn’t help but do the same.

you wrapped your arms around his neck as he raised his other hand to cup your face completely

his rough hands were so gentle, and so was the kiss as the two of you broke away from the other for air.

both slightly breathless and panting, a smile sealed the upgraded atmosphere very well.

the two of you then proceeded to cuddle for the rest of the movie.

in summary?

hajime is a person of passion and care, and that can be seen in his kiss

it was just so-

gAH so SwEEt. 

easily perfect for the both of you, as cliche as it sounds

(also, the way that the night ended perfected everything - you had fallen asleep on his shoulder about 4/5 through the movie and he refused to move from his position even when the movie ended. he just turned the tv off and cuddled up next to you and feel asleep as well.) 

10 out of 10, i would most definitely love for something like this to happen to me, as cliche as it is.

crap, i’m starting to realize that i am a hopeless romantic in denial, help-

Bokuto Kotarou

buff boi here needs someone like akaashi

straight outta the gate, he needs someone that can handle his moodiness

someone that can handle his hyperness

someone that can keep him in control whenever he begins to lose it.

(what little impulse control he has left, at least-)

anyway, yeah, you get it.

i would imagine that they would be (possibly) a little more talkative, but generally similar to akaashi

the kiss, though...

let’s be honest, that’s how he would respond to you 

so, to sum that vague statement up:

he’d kiss you as a confession.

that’s all there is to it.

how the confession itself would go?

well...

he was nervous.

akaashi and bokuto were walking and the owlish ace was ranting

“i want to tell her, but she won’t like me.”

akaashi was almost completely fed up with his whining.

keyword: almost.

what bokuto failed to notice was that you and akaashi are friends and classmates, as well as colleagues on the volleyball team.

you were a manager, and had been a huge help to the team when akaashi wasn’t there (for whatever reason).

so, with that knowledge, akaashi knew.

you had told him what you felt in regards to bokuto, and he listened.

the catch was that you didn’t want him to tell bokuto or anyone else.

he wanted to end this whole back and forth on both of your parts,

(”i like them, but they don’t like me. and even if they did, they could find someone that’d be more fitting for them.”) 

BUT, he is a good friend, and good friends keep promises and requested secrets.

he was dying to just cut the crap and get you two together.

quite frankly, he was ready to. he just had to do it incognito

(read: hope to god you don’t tear him a new one if you find out that he was willing to play matchmaker from behind the scenes.) 

anyway, as he listened to bokuto rant and whine and drone about you, the idea hit him.

he’d need the help of another manager, though.

eventually, the day had come to end (with both you and horned-owl man being oblivious), and practice had begun.

bokuto was screwing up more than usual.

he still had his good moments, but anyone could tell that he was bothered by something.

it got so bad that akaashi had to call break.

he had asked to speak to the other managers, kaori and yukie, when he had called it.

you were curious, but you didn’t want to pry.

you had taken to making sure that the team could help bokuto get back on it. 

akaashi had planned something, though, and he was sure that this would work.

once the break was up, bokuto went back to practice.

you found it odd when you noticed that he was starting to mess up again. 

this time, it got so much worse - akaashi forced bokuto outside to take a good, long breather.

kaori had asked you to check up on him after a few minutes. 

being her kouhai, you went along with it and left the duties to yukie.

when you went outside, you noticed the two-toned hair sitting on the steps to the gym angrily pouting.

you wanted to calm him down and get his focus back on the game, but something was becoming a problem.

things between you two had grown more awkward than usual, and you didn’t like it. 

especially now, seeing as it was only you two in the chilly autumn wind. 

that being said, you decided to sit next to him on the steps.

when he heard your footsteps, he quickly peeked up, blushed at you, and looked back down with a less hostile pout. 

you found the sight adorable, but you had to push that away right now.

the Fukurodani ace wasn’t at his best - that needed to be fixed first.

“what’s going on bokuto?” 

he, if possible, got even quieter.

now, not many things scare you, but that?

a silent bokuto?

get your apocalypse materials together, shit’s about to hit the fan - chances are the world’s gonna end in T-minus ten seconds. 

you nudged his shoulder and persisted.

“c’mon, the team needs their ace to be at their best, and they can’t if he can’t tell me what’s bothering him.”

some more silence lingered before he spoke.

“there’s this person. they’re really pretty, and really sweet, and really smart.”

your mood dropped, but you tried to keep it up for his sake.

“they’re also really good at comforting people, and they have patience with me.” 

your mood really didn’t wanna work with you, did it?

“and i wanna ask them out, but i don’t think they like me.”

that was when you took your chance.

yeah, if it wasn’t you, you could at least give him the confidence to ask out whoever the mystery person was.

“then ask them out, bokuto. people admire you, you know? how could they say no to the great bokuto kotarou?”

that seemed to give him a boost, and with quick succession, he had jumped up and stood proud.

“you’re right, y/n! so, do you wannt go out with me?”

y/n.exe has stopped working.

your jaw dropped to the floor, your eyes went wide, and your heart and mind started racing.

‘holy- he likes me? he likes me? he really likes me?’

bokuto noticed your silence, and he took it as a rejection.

he slumped off and fell to the steps again.

“if you don’t feel the same, that’s oka-”

“wait, no! i didn’t say that!”

your outburst was admittedly uncharacteristic, but for the moment, that was all that was needed. 

his golden eyes lit up, and you blushed bright red.

“really? you really like me too?”

you nodded shyly.

in a fit of happiness, he lifted you up and swung you around.

the action shocked you, but you were giggling by the end of it.

despite his excitement, he still had some decency in the moment.

“can i kiss you?” 

a smile fell onto your face and you uttered a small yes.

he kissed you immediately after.

the entrance was extremely rough, so much so that you nearly fell backwards had it not been for bokuto’s strong arms holding you in place. 

otherwise, there was teeth (by accident, of course), and it was very messy and a little slobbery 

(forlackofabetterword,iswear-)

it lasted for a decent amount of time. 

in fact, it took so long that akaashi got a little worried that you and bokuto had run off (or something like that)

kaori had decided to check on you two, and you two were found sucking face.

yeah, that’s right.

the kiss was romantic, but it was bordering on a makeout. (never reached that point, but most definitely seemed like it)

she decided to leave you two alone.

when you pulled away, the both of you had a slight flush to your faces

neither of you would have changed the moment, though. no way in hell would that happen. 

and, in a twist of events, bokuto was the one dragging you back to the gymasium with a new burst of energy and confidence. 

the rest of the night flowed fairly smooth, and bokuto dealt with his fair share of teasing from his teammates after kaori had let the team know what had gone on.

so, in conclusion:

very, VERY, V E R Y messy.

it was an impatient kiss, an immature kiss, an overall inexperienced kiss.

though, you could only imagine, that the moment was everything you could have asked for and more. 

also, the setting was perfect for the two of you.

a new s/o, the first kiss, and the slight chill of the wind combined with the gleaming moon and stars? 

beautiful, perfect, gorgeous, you name it. 

just- 

buff owl boy needs love, you give him that and more.

he does the same with you.

(please cherish him, you’re the only person that can calm him down quickly aside from akaashi)

[exhaustedfander]

The Best Way to Flirt, Logically [Analogical]

@notdeadyet09 made a request for this so here ya go! This is very silly but I had fun with it.

A03 link

Word Count: 1,498

Summary: It would seem only logical that Logan had absolutely no tact, at least that’s how Roman saw it. He had no distain for him, in fact, they had been very close friends for years now. Sure, they had their disagreements from time-to-time – which was to say, quite often – but for the most part the two got along a lot better than they had in the past. Roman had a lot of respect for his friend so, incredibly respectfully, mind you, he informed Logan that he was fairly certain Logan couldn’t flirt to save his life.

It would seem only logical that Logan had absolutely no tact, at least that’s how Roman saw it. He had no distain for him, in fact, they had been very close friends for years now. Sure, they had their disagreements from time-to-time – which was to say, quite often – but for the most part the two got along a lot better than they had in the past. Roman had a lot of respect for his friend so, incredibly respectfully, mind you, he informed Logan that he was fairly certain Logan couldn’t flirt to save his life.

“Excuse me?” Logan asked, clearly attempting to mask any offence in his tone. It didn’t work.

“I say it in a very loving way,” Roman clarified, though the laugh that followed the statement seemed to indicate that he was not, in fact, saying it lovingly, “I just can’t imagine you being any good at flirting, pocket-protector.”

Logan sighed before pouring himself a cup of coffee. He certainly hadn’t asked to be insulted first thing in the morning, but Roman seemed to be dead-set on doing so.

“Tell me, Roman, what makes you think so? I’m fairly certain anyone, to some extent, could attempt to, woo, as you might phrase it, a potential romantic interest. After all, you were able to convince Patton to court you.”

Roman slapped a hand over his chest, letting out a dramatic gasp.

“Well, I never! I’ll have you know that I very gallantly seduced him! I am a prince, after all. Of course I know how to flirt! I’m the master.” Logan quirked an eyebrow.

“Is that so?” Roman sputtered.

“Of course it is! How dare you say otherwise?!” “Well, I don’t know, Roman. Perhaps because you’ve just insulted me.” Roman made a noncommittal noise before sighing.

“Listen, teach, I don’t mean to upset you and I’m sorry if I have,” that was true, too. Although Roman often expressed the fact that making fun was “how he showed his love” he was working on doing so less and taking other’s feelings into consideration more. Even so, there was always room for improvement. “All I mean is that you’re the brainy guy and I’m the prince. Of course I’m the one who has all the flirting power.”

Logan huffed after taking a sip of his coffee, casting the most irritated glance he could muster for the time in the morning.

“That logic seems rather biased. Just because I’m the “brainy guy,” as you so eloquently put it, shouldn’t mean that I’m incapable of flirting successfully.” Logan was about to elaborate on his statement before hearing a door open down the hall and seeing Virgil stumble into the kitchen blearily. Logan closed his mouth, any further argument in his favor dying as he watched Virgil pour himself a cup of black coffee and begin to chug it with the most lovestruck expression – not that Logan would ever admit to such things.

A glint of mischief usually only reserved for Remus glinted in Roman’s eyes as Roman turned to Virgil and Logan cursed the day he was born (which was rather odd, considering he was entirety aware that he was a side, and thusly, never had been born).

“Help me out here, Hot Topic,” Roman said with a smile Logan didn’t trust in the least bit. Virgil took his lips off of his Nightmare Before Christmas mug, sending Roman a scowl.

“What do you want, princey?” Virgil’s voice, while already rather deep, was even more so when he’d just woken up. He was still clad in his pajamas, a purple and black storm clouds just like his logo and his hair still clearly hadn’t seen the likes of a comb. That was to say Virgil looked adorable and it would be incredibly difficult to argue otherwise. It was simply factual.

“Wow, grumpy much?” Roman complained, earning a shrug in response, “Anyway, I think that Microsoft Nerd over here can’t flirt to save his life, but he can’t seem to agree. What says you?”

Suddenly, Logan rerated more than ever confiding in Roman that he had an…infatuation with Virgil. He’d already had to endure a slew of teasing but that had been manageable. This, on the other hand, was shaping up to be something different entirely.

Virgil snorted, a sound that was much more chipper than his attitude had been prior. It was a beautiful sound, Virgil’s laughter, and Logan would have relished in the sound had it not been at his expense.

“L, come on, you know you’re one of my best friends but there is no way you’ve got any flirting game.” A scowl settled over Logan’s face as he set his coffee cup on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

“So you two are in agreement? I had hoped that maybe you would’ve taken my side, Virgil.” Logan did his best to mask the hurt in his tone, unconscious of how much of it might be seeping through. Virgil frowned, placing a hand on Logan’s shoulder.

“I’m not saying it to piss you off, man. It’s just…I mean – sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset – I don’t imagine you’d be very uh, good at it.” The dejected expression on Logan’s face spoke volumes because as quick as ever Virgil was rushing to make a clarification, “Not to say that I know how to flirt either!”

Roman, amazingly, had watched this conversation in silence before deciding butting in was in his best interest.

“You’re being too soft with him. Logan, I bet you ten bucks you can’t successfully flirt with Virgil!”

Logan’s heartbeat quickened in a matter of seconds as he sent Roman an incredulous look of frustration. He couldn’t tell if Roman was trying to tease him, be his wingman or both, but either way he was handling it extraordinarily poorly.

“Whoa, Roman, he – he doesn’t have to do that. Logan, you don’t need to do that, don’t listen to him, he’s just being an asshole,” Virgil sputtered, looking mortified. Hm. As nervous as Logan was becoming in this situation, Virgil’s reaction to the prospect of him flirting with him was curious. Could that mean – well, only one way to find out.

“Fine, I’ll take your bet,” Logan said as he turned to Roman before redirecting his attention on Virgil.

“Do you have eleven protons?”

“W-what?”

“Because you’re sodium fine.”

“PFFFFT! That’s how you flirt? Nerdy science things? There’s no way that’s going to work on Virgil! Virgil, tell him this isn’t working on you.” To Roman’s surprise, Virgil’s face had just reddened a shade or two deeper.

“I-I…”

“You must have a charge because I am finding myself feeling very attracted to you.”

“These are freaking ridiculous. Just give me the ten bucks now, you’re just digging your own grave at this point. Right Virgil – Virgil? Why do you look so red-in-the-face? No. No! There’s no way this is what does it for you!” Roman said, glancing between Logan and a very flustered Virgil.

“Are you my appendix? Because I don’t understand how you work but this feeling in my stomach makes me want to take you out.”

“L-Lo these are fucking awful, come on, stop it,” Virgil said with a hand covering his mouth and a look in his eyes like he very much did not want him to stop it.

“I could really see myself periodically doing you on a table.” That, it seemed, was Virgil’s breaking point because suddenly Virgil went rigid with a look of what can only be described as “Complete and utter gay panic” in his eyes.

“I – uh – need to go be. Somewhere else!” Virgil said before quickly sinking out of the room and leaving Roman and Logan alone. Roman put his face in his hands and sighed loudly.

“Oh come on! I had faith that Virgil had better taste than those corny things.” Logan raised an eyebrow, still a little overwhelmed that went as positively as it did.

“You say that having a boyfriend who regularly makes bad puns.” “Hey! Don’t you insult Pat’s puns, that’s-that’s different.” Logan rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure.”

“How many of those things do you have memorized? And why in the world would you, what use would they serve? I would assume you of all people wouldn’t enjoy that kind of flirting.”

“Oh, I have flashcards,” Logan explained, “You never know when they might come into use. Now, I believe you owe me ten dollars.” Roman grumbled, reaching into his pocket and presenting the bill.

“Well, aren’t you going to go woo the emo nightmare now? Considering how he left in such a hurry, I would unfortunately have to call that mess a rousing success.” Logan smiled faintly, thinking of how Virgil had reacted.

“I do believe you’re right,” Logan said, failing to mask just how excited he was before leaving the room.

Roman was right, Logan could most certainly not flirt.

It was a good thing that Virgil had a weakness for nerds with absolutely atrocious pick-up-lines.

=+=

[oikoik]

the color of a bruise (part two)

warnings; cursing, pretty vanilla so far tbh

word count; 1626

a/n; can I please just say how much I love Ennoshita,, like he seriously doesn’t get enough love and support

(8:34pm, Karasuno Headquarters, Daichi's Office)

"She isn't cut out for this."

"It's not like she has much of a choice."

"The girl never asked for this lifestyle, she did what she thought was right. You can't punish her for that, Sawamura."

The tension in room was palpable. Daichi stood with his shoulders leaned against the wall. His sharp gaze was on where Ennoshita stood across his desk. The two held their silent pissing contest until Daichi let out a dejected sigh.

"Yes, but that Good Samaritan act just landed her a one way ticket into this mess."

"But-"

Ennoshita's reoccurring concern was cut short when another voice spoke in to reason. "If Daichi didn't find her, you know they would have…" Suga was sat in one of the chairs by the desk, his long legs crossed and a look of genuine speculation etched into the soft wrinkles of his forehead. "Besides, she saved two of our recruits, we owe her for that much... And we might as well use any of her abilities since she’ll be with us for awhile."

"But what does she even have to offer? All we know is that she can aim a can of fucking mace, it's practical to assume she has no real training,"Ennoshita's hands came to rub across his jaw, the uncertainty of the situation as a whole left him on edge. If there was one thing Ennoshita didn't like, it was unidentified liabilities.

"We'll figure it out as we go, but I'm not leaving her to be killed by them. She saved two of ours, so now we save her."

Daichi spoke with such a firmness that Ennoshita knew, even if he wanted to rebuttal the claim, the use of furthering the debate would be useless. He made his decision.

It was huge. So much larger than any house you had ever stepped foot into before. Your brain didn't allow you to gawk, however. It was far too focused on the adrenaline still pumping through your veins as the account of the previous hour circulated through your memory like a broken tape.

A job, a job, a job.. Maybe they need something fixed? What the hell could you fix?... No.. Maybe a secretary! You can type! But what use would they have for secretary?.. Shit! What did they want from you?

You were scattered, your mind a jumbled mess of paranoid delusions and worst case scenarios. This wasn't good, no. But you had to keep a level head if it were to take a turn for the worse.

You cast a watchful glance towards the boy who stood at the corner of the couch. From where you sat you could see that he was in fact one of the boys you had stumbled upon that fateful night. Under proper lighting, he looked cute. His freckled face and kind eyes made you feel a bit more at ease the longer you were forced to wait. You had tried to subtly get his attention through gestures, fearful to make any noise in the otherwise silent mansion, but his eyes remained glued to the floor in an unblinking stare.

That effort had been abandoned after your fourth attempt. You closed your eyes, willing the entire house to vanish when you opened them again. If you had any such abilities, they were clearly against you tonight. When you had reopened your eyes, you nearly yelped at the new additions to the room.

Sat on the pristine white sofa across from you sat a man with neatly style silver hair. Beside him was another man of larger stature and dark eyes. He watched you with a searching stare. You were so caught in keeping your guard up that your heart skipped a beat when the silver-haired man spoke,

"Relax, we aren't going to hurt you."

The dark-haired fellow softened his gaze as he rested his elbows atop his knees. "What's your name? Your full name."

"Y/N L/N." You cringed at the sound of your own voice. It sounded broken and afraid--and while that may be the case, you'd prefer to not have your captors be aware of your current state.

"Okay, Y/N, tell me what you're thinking."

The scoff you let out was second nature. Were you the only one who realized how batshit insane this whole thing was? Most likely. "I think this is a sick game you're playing. Saying you won't hurt me just to build up my trust, and then when I least expect it, you'll have me begging for a life that was never promised." Somehow, despite the racing heart inside your ribcage, you looked up to make eye contact with the brunet.

What shocked you was that despite the chiseled features of his jaw and muscular frame, his eyes were soft as they looked at you. "I can assure you, we have no intention of bringing you any harm. I am a man of my word, and if you would like, I can explain everything in detail."

"I just want to go home."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Miss L/N."

Your heart nearly exploded in your chest. You hadn't noticed the third person enter. He was of average height and build, with dark ebony hair combed neatly away from his forehead. His features were colder, more serious than the other two. You didn't like the way he looked at you as if you were the cause for all his troubles.

But then again, maybe you were.

With wide eyes, you stared at the men on the couch as panic thrummed in your veins. The brunet leaned closer towards you, the palm of his hand was opened as if he were gesturing for a wild animal to calm down. "Relax, I can explain what's going to happen, but you need to settle down first."

Although oppositions nested in your brain, you willed yourself to find any last shreds of composure. You prayed they failed to notice the tremor of your hands as you clutched them tightly in your lap. You gave a small nod.

"My name is Daichi. These are my associates, Suga and Ennoshita. We work in a… taboo field of business. The two boys you had met a few night ago, Hinata and Yamaguchi, also work for me. Does this make sense so far?"

You gave him an uncertain glance, but nodded nonetheless.

"The man that had cornered Hinata and Yamaguchi works for a different… business, and he had real intent to do harm to them. Thankfully, though, you acted with bravery and helped them escape. However…" He paused.

You didn't like the way he paused. Your eyes searched his features for any giveaways. The rationale in your brain told you to dig deeper, demand to know why he was so hesitant about telling you these things, what any of this has to do with you. But your tongue was glued in your mouth, and what came out was the voice of someone defeated, "However?..."

"Because of your actions, you now have a target over your head as well."

In that moment, your heart seemingly ceased to beat. The breath in your lungs dissipated and your mind went white as the words sank in. "What- what the hell does that mean?" You feared you already knew the answer.

"It means, whether you want to believe it or not, you're wanted by one of the most powerful gangs in Japan."

You weren't sure who had said it. Most likely Ennoshita, but your mind was only able to make out two words; wanted and gangs.

Your eyes burned. It took a moment before you realized tears were falling down your cheeks. You didn't rub them away, you didn't try to hide. You merely felt. Felt the coolness of them as they rolled like rain down a window. Felt the hole in your chest become a gaping void. Felt as your world seemingly fell apart.

It was weak, a plea for help, for stability or support. It came from the deepest parts of you, and it was pathetic, "What have I done?..."

Daichi stood from where he sat to kneel in front of your slouched figure. His hands were large, they could easily grab onto you and put you out of whatever misery was coming your way, but instead, they were gentle as his calloused fingers laid atop your own. "I gave you my word that your safety is in the hands of me and my men. You saved two of mine, so now we will save you. Deal?"

When you managed to meet his gaze, you found warmth in the browns of his eyes, a deep level of comfort you never expected had you nodding solemnly.

You notice out of the corner of your eyes that the boy from earlier had reappeared. When he left, you never noticed. But now, his eyes finally looked at you. In them, you saw the same glimpses of sympathy etched into his features. You were quick to look away.

"Yamaguchi is going to take you to your room. You'll be staying here until it's safe for you to return home. I'll send someone to your apartment for clothes in the morning. Go get some rest. We’ll discuss everything else in the morning."

Being told you would have a bed to sleep in was easily the best news you had received all day. You didn't pay any attention to the vast interior of the mansion or hallways as you trailed behind Yamaguchi. You didn't take in any details of the room as you entered, either. Your body merely floated from one place to the next until you were asleep on a mattress that was far too soft for a place so cold.

[mamawelp]

It’s been awhile since I’ve been back on tumblr, but my shits gotten so bad lately that I need something, some kind of outlet. I feel so goddamn alone and my mind feels so stretched thin that if it doesn’t just completely snap, it surely will never fully recover. I thought I was getting better for a while, but the stress of the last three years has taken a toll. My daughter is everything to me, and I feel like I started out with so much joy and energy. Little by little my energy has run down and I have no way of resting to recuperate it. I have no friends, my family is toxic, and my fiancé is in a word, awful. He’s manipulative, a gas lighter, liar, he blames, critiques, always angry, so fucking angry all of the time. He uses my limitations against me and I’m stuck with him. I’m disabled, I have zero money to my name, zero support system, and I’m afraid if I tried to leave him, I wouldn’t be able to bring my daughter with me, or more to the point, he would fight for custody and win. I can’t even trust him to watch our daughter for half an hour. He falls asleep and she gets hurt or makes just the most epic messes of all time. My executive function has gone out the window almost entirely because I am severely disabled and the only one caring for our daughter 24/7. I’m the only one worrying for her, planning for her, teaching her, dressing her, feeding her, changing her. I can’t do for myself anymore because every drop of energy goes to her and there is never a break. And yet he holds it over my head that I’m not doing enough. I am so lost in this depression and loneliness and it’s not fair to her, and meanwhile this man doesn’t even care about his daughter enough to let me have a break. If he does miraculously take her out of the house, he takes her to his moms house, so someone else will watch her. Still, it’s the only way he can be trusted with her.

I hadn’t left the house in a while. It’s hard for me to get out when there isn’t a pandemic, and the longer I stay in the worse it gets. There were more months in the year than times I went inside a public place in 2020. I went outside a few times, but it’s hard for me to even step out on my front porch, or go into my back yard. Sometimes I forget there’s a pandemic going on out there because I have simply not experienced the masks, hand sanitizers, temperature checks, and empty toilet paper aisles. If I need something, I order it or he goes out to get it. Yesterday I felt cabin fever kicking in again. I always have a low grade cabin fever, it’s been like this for 12 years, but the cabin fever has to be greater than the anxiety and mixed with a touch of mania for me to be like, “must leave now.” So I said let’s go get something to eat. I meant a drive through. When I get out of the house, I stay in the car the whole time, even before the pandemic. We were pulling away from Taco Bell and I mentioned that I thought the nacho fries were loaded because of a picture. He started asking me what loaded fries were. I know that he knows what loaded fries are. So I said loaded, like loaded fries. And he kept insisting I explain what was loaded. At that point I had no idea what he wanted from me so I had no answer that was acceptable for him and we ended up getting in a ridiculous argument over goddamn loaded fries. Turns out he wanted the precise toppings I thought were on the loaded fries, that evidently doesn’t even exist. I misinterpreted a picture. All because I misinterpreted a picture and he felt I should have memorized the menu in anticipation of him asking me what loaded fries were. It was awful and so fucking stupid. All I wanted was to leave the house for 20 minutes. We ended up arguing the whole way home and in the kitchen. By the time I started trying to calm myself down I realized that I had been completely triggered in an episode. By which I mean that time felt different. My episodic memory was skewed. There were blank spots in my memory when I had become the most frustrated and confused. Everything was coming back to me in flashes or pictures and feelings. Which screws me, because if he can trigger me to lose pieces of time, then he can control the narrative. He said that I was demeaning him and making him feel stupid for asking. That was never my intention, I legitimately didn’t understand what he was asking me. It wasn’t until I calmed down that I remembered his crack at the window when we got our food. He made sure the window was open and the lady was there to chide me on being indecisive and worrying about what other people were ordering. Like I was a child. (We always get the 12 taco box, but I got a meal this time and wanted to know if he was going to get the party box, because if he was, then I shouldn’t get the combo meal. Like not a big deal, but an important distinction if you’re not trying to waste food or money.) It was a ridiculous argument and I feel a little silly trying to go into every minutiae detail of trying to order our food, but I don’t feel like I did anything wrong and got ridiculed and then grilled over the Taco Bell menu. Anyway...

It’s hard for me to leave by myself, that requires a whole other recipe of confidence and mania. I usually feel like I need another adult as a life line. I just don’t know why I keep feeling like I can use him as a life line. He does this every time we go somewhere. In fact I stopped going to the grocery in large part because he was the only one left who would go with me and he ends up disappearing the second we’re in the door, or he criticizes me for being so slow or browsing, or not taking the most military like detailed path through the store. Because no matter what you are doing, he could do it better, and he’s going to tell you all about it. I use to shop with his brother, or my best friend, but his brother isn’t around as much anymore and my best friend/sister since kindergarten is severely disabled now as well. I have told him a million times that my senses get overloaded in the store and that I have to take it slow, that I have to stay calm and collected, or I won’t be able to continue shopping, but he doesn’t care. I think he wants me to fail.

I stopped driving us places because he constantly criticizes me. He tells me which parking place I should have taken as I pass it which always sort of deletes my brain a little and then he uses that second of confusion in me to jump in full force about what I “always do” wrong and “why don’t you” ever and when I finally get parked it “took me long enough” and what’s the difference between that spot and the spot he said. Usually the spot is closeness to the door. He will park at the very edge of the parking lot knowing I won’t want to go in if he does, while I look for a closer spot so I can easily exit the store. My entire body is exhausted by the time I leave, so I know I will need to park closer. I’ve told him this, he knows this. The parking is just an example. He uses the entire drive to somewhere to poke at me until I am a mess of anxiety and then I no longer have the energy for whatever we’re doing. I do just fine when I drive by myself or someone else. Just to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with my driving, I don’t speed, I don’t follow anyone too closely, I don’t run red lights, slam on breaks just to piss someone off, I don’t swerve through heavy traffic, I don’t roll my window down to yell at people, I don’t cut people off and yell at them for it, I don’t act like I own the road, but he does. He does all of those things. He gets so angry in the car and it makes you feel so uncomfortable and anxious you’ll melt into the seat. It’s awful. He’s awful.

When our daughter was born, I had a renewed since of confidence. I stopped saying sorry and I started just getting pissed. In a way it has backfired though, because now I’m pissed and bitter and he acts like I’m the one abusing him for calling him out on his shitty behavior. Basically he’ll pull some asshole move, I say hey that was wrong of you and he acts completely dejected and will sarcastically say, “you’re right, I’m the asshole.” He makes it impossible to argue with him. He will make shit up, twist my words to fit his narrative, describe to me MY intentions (which is never correct), he will change his story and say it’s been his story all along, he will switch sides of the argument in the middle and tell you your argument was his and his was yours the whole time so that he feels he’s come out on top, and mostly, when you prove him wrong, he will simply deny anything happened directly to my face when we both witnessed it and he will expect it to end there. If I try to say any more about something that he decides didn’t happen he will yell at me to shut up and he will put a hole in the wall or in a door to punish me.

When I try to talk about a health issue that has been plaguing me, he often will make a stupid joke, change the subject, or just interrupt me and bulldoze right over, but it doesn’t fail, within 2 weeks he will be complaining about the EXACT same thing, and if I don’t take him seriously, I am the asshole who doesn’t care and only ever wants to talk about my health.

He ruins every holiday. Without fail. The night before a party with my family, he will purposefully sabotage his sleep, get a few hours and then wake up as the grumpiest person ever. He has on multiple occasions said that if I remind him that we need to be to bed early he will have to stay up. Making it my fault that he stayed up because I presented an opportunity to rebel against someone and he has to take it. Seriously. He doesn’t do this with the same frequency or intensity for his own family parties of course. He acts completely embarrassing in front of my family. He will talk down to me, or get drunk and start lying poorly to family members trying to seem interesting.

So anyway. That’s life in a nutshell right now. And if anything, I’ve got my feelings out so I could easily recall them if I needed to for anything more ... official. It’s hard for me to compile all of my thoughts on all of the things. My memory is shot to hell and it’s easy to get caught up in “well maybe he’s right” when I can’t see the whole picture. My grammar and structure is not the greatest, but my daughter will be waking up from her nap soon, so it will have to do.

[1-1snailxd-art]

Sanders Sides Oneshot - Babysitting

This is how you beat writers block - you draw and then find your will to write afterwards.   

Characters/relationships: Logan / Virgil (analogical), Patton / Roman (Royality), Kid Thomas

Warnings: none

Words: 1511

Summary: This came about from a post by @fanartfunart and seeing as I’m trying to learn how to draw people better, I decided to challenge myself with a drawing....that drawing then turned into a little fic. FYI, I know there is a lot wrong with Logan’s proportions in the picture (I can see it), but Thomas is cute so whatever.  

_____________________________________

"Don't be such a baby, Logan." Virgil huffed, following his partner into the kitchen. "It's a kid, not a freakin' nuclear bomb."

"I know that, but..." Logan kept his back to Virgil as he absentmindedly took ingredients for dinner out of the fridge and cupboards. "I don't know anything about babysitting a child."

Watching the cook’s shoulders slump at the admission, Virgil softened his tone and moved to lean on the counter next to Logan.

"What's to know, Lo? You give him some food, easy for you, and turn on the TV. Job done." Virgil sighed when Logan didn't look away from the bowl in front of him; hands floured as he prepared a pasta dough. "Look, I only need to be in the studio for an hour at most; then I'll come straight home. You can entertain 'til I get back, right?"

"Are you sure you can't stay?"

 The tone of Virgil's phone gave him his answer as the other man quickly excused himself to take the call. It wasn't that Logan didn't like children; he just didn't think he was good for children. Honestly, he questioned daily what Virgil saw in him; a pensive, workaholic wasn't that romantic and didn't scream partner material. Patton on the other hand was destined to be a parent; they'd wanted to be one since they were kids.

The pasta dough came into shape as Logan recalled the day Patton video called them to announce they had been approved for adoption now Roman had consistent work. He'd shared in their excitement but never fully understood it. Admittedly, Logan was still hurt that Patton had moved so far away to support Roman's career and their relationship took a hit from the distance.  

Setting the finished dough aside to rest, Logan washed his hands and turned to find the dejected Virgil walking back in.

 "Virgil? What's wrong?"

"I've gotta go, Lo. Shit's hit the fan with the computers at the studio and Nate's pissed."

"How bad is it?" Logan moved closer, knowing there would be no way out of this now and accepting that he would have to face Patton alone.

"Backups failing bad. I should have gone in earlier when it was just a glitch. It was stupid of me to ignore it and-fuck I'm gonna pay for it n-"

Logan tilted Virgil's chin back and placed a soft kiss on his lips to silence the worrier.

"I apologise for my earlier attitude and clouded judgements. I will be fine this evening. You should go." Taking Virgil's hand, Logan walked him towards the door. "I will be fine until you or Patton return."

"Yeah, you will." he replied with a half-smile, before giving Logan a final kiss goodbye and heading out the door.

  The silence of the apartment was crushing as Logan threw himself onto the couch; sliding his glasses up off his face as he massaged his brow. It was all too much at once. First, he was just worried about seeing Patton and Roman again after years of dwindling contact; then they asked the couple to babysit while they went to the award ceremony that brought them to town; and now Logan would have to face it all alone. A knock at the door pulled Logan from his thoughts and he was quick to sit up and correct himself before answering it.

 "Hey Specs" Roman smiled from the entry; the pink backpack on his shoulder a harsh contrast to the black suit he wore. "It's great to see you again!"

"It's good to see you too, Roman. You are looking well considering the travel."

"Oh please," With a hand gesture Roman stepped into the apartment and put the apparently heavy bag down. "It would take more than a few hours on a plane to ruin this face."

"Indeed," Logan chuckled, turning just in time to see a pink blur heading towards him.

 "Uncle Logan!" Came a cheery voice as a body slammed into Logan and constricted his middle.

"Um...Thomas, I presume."

Logan looked up to see Patton beaming as they walked up the path in a simple blue gown. They looked so happy and lively that Logan forgot all his past grievances; it seemed Patton was happy and that was all that mattered.

"That's my Thomas," Patton giggled.

"It's good to see you again, Patton." Logan pulled a face as he looked down at the figure still holding his arms by his sides. "Your son is very... Huggie."

Roman and Patton both laughed, and Roman snapped a quick picture of the awkward man pinned by his son.

"Oh, I know. I trained him well, don't you think?"

"Indeed, Patton, but...um," Thomas giggled as Logan tried to lift his arms out of the vice grip around him. "How do I un-train him? I do need to work at some point this evening."

"That will do, Thomas; give Uncle Lo some breathing room."

At Roman's word, Thomas let go and moved to his father's side. Logan's moment of reprieve was short lived as Patton replaced their son, pulling their old friend close and whispering in his ear.

"I really missed you, Logan."

"I..." For a moment, he was lost for words before mimicking the tight grip around his friend. "I missed you too."

  The group remained in the entry as Patton began rattling off things Thomas could and couldn't do. Though he listened intently, Logan's eyes kept shifting to the young boy in the pink jacket that lent against Roman; holding onto his father’s arms around his neck and smiling up at Logan.

".... And if you need anything, just call me and I'll come right back and-"

"Calm down, Pat." Roman interjected, "We're just going for a few hours. I'm sure Lo and Thomas will be fine."

"Right. You're right."

"I always am." "That's not true, Dad." Thomas turned to look up at his father in confusion. "We were late to the airport because you got the times wrong, and you brought the wrong chocolate milk last week, and you-"

"Alright, that's enough." Roman was quick to scoop the boy up and headed inside. "Let's get you set up, hey."

A smile crept across Logan's face as he watched them go.

"Is that a genuine smile I see, Logan?" It comforted Patton to see him looking so content, despite his obvious fear of being responsible for Thomas.

"I'm proud of you, Patton." Their eyes widened as Logan turned; his own shining in the sun light. "You made the family you always wanted." "Almost," they laughed. "It's just missing one thing." "Hm?" Brows furrowing in confusion, Logan wracked his brain for what Patton was talking about. "What could you possibly be missing?"

"Just an uncle to teach Thomas about computers and another to show him how to cook. Any idea on where I could find them?"

"I think I do, but they live pretty far away." "That's okay, we're moving anyway." "What?" Logan was genuinely shocked by the news, mouth left ajar as Roman came up from behind and place a hand on his shoulder.

"You ready to be a full-time uncle, Logan?"

 The question left Logan reeling. Three years ago, Patton left their teaching position to follow Roman's quest for recognition in music and theatre; leaving Logan and Virgil behind in the process. One year ago, they adopted Thomas and their contact became almost non-existent; so to be told they were returning to include him and Virgil in their family...was amazing.

 "I suppose I'll have to be."

This time, Logan initiated a group hug; wrapping an arm around each of his friends and briefly forgetting that they had somewhere to be and he had a job to do.

"Jeez Specs, Thomas rubbed off on you quickly." Roman joked; causing Logan to quickly step back and adjust his tie.  

"Ah, yes, sorry." Logan stumbled over his words, causing his friends to laugh at his sudden display of affection. "I got a little carried away." "It's okay, Lo." Patton assured, waving at the little figure that was poking his head over the couch inside. "But we should get going or we'll never leave."

"Right. Yes. Of Course."

 Logan watched as Patton blew a kiss to Thomas before heading down the front path with Roman. Once the car had pulled away, he shut the door and turned to the smiling figure kneeling on the couch, waiting patiently. Brown eyes looked expectantly at him and he thought about Patton's wish for uncles for their son.

 "So… Thomas. Have you ever made pasta before?" The boy shook his head and slipped off the couch as Logan held his hand out. "Perhaps it's time uncle Logan taught you then."

 *************************

 When Virgil came home, he was shocked to find the apartment lit only by Steven Universe playing on the TV. Tiptoeing around the couch he was greeted to the scene of Logan fast asleep with Thomas laying on his chest. It didn't look comfortable at all, but Virgil had to admit it was an adorable thing to come home to.

________________________________________

Tags: @thequeensphinx

What else have I done:

The Shield to your Sword (WIP - A fantasy/magic au - Prinxiety (Royal Roman and orphan Virgil - they’ll admit to their love eventually), Virgil angst, non binary healer Logan, *spoiler* Patton, cursed Deceit and ridiculous Remus)

Libraries are for Meetings (ongoing WIP - Human/University au with Royality and developing Analogical. Slow burn and heavily focused on a grieving group of friends that Virgil slowly becomes a part of to better himself.)

And more....

Writing Master Post

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles

[thewriterwithnoplan]

Dirty and Useless (Part 12)

Summary: Jason Todd had always said there were only two types of cop; Dirty and Useless. So when Y/N comes along with a spunky partner and a laughable code name it’s safe to say they don’t exactly see eye to eye. But if they’ve got anything in common it’s their secrets. Both are hiding behind masks whether they know it or not. Will the Robin get the Nightingale to come out of the shadows? Pairing: Titans!Jason Todd x Reader Word Count: 1543 Warnings: None.

Bruce Wayne was a man of many things. He was a billionaire playboy, a caped crusader, and a proud business owner. Over the years he had donned several masks, each one more intricate and fragile as the last. One thing he had never imagined being – a father. Or rather an absentee, poor excuse of a father.

He’d given it his all, taught his daughter every skill he knew. But somehow, he had still missed the important stuff, the little achievements that had nothing to do with beating a villain into a gutter in crime alley. He’d missed milestones and holidays, graduations and birthdays. But most of all he’d missed the warning signs.

Looking back at it, there had been plenty of signs that Y/N was not happy with her gold-encrusted canary cage. Her protectiveness toward the Sparrow had been the biggest warning. But by then – too busy with his new protégé Dick Grayson – Bruce was far too arrogant to see it. And then all at once, she was gone – in court on one day, out of Gotham the next.

What Bruce Wayne had never been prepared for, was the possibility that maybe the problem hadn’t been Y/N. He’d tried to replace her time and time again. First with Dick Grayson, who he’d molded into the perfect Robin. But even then, Bruce had missed the cries for help and Dick had left too.

But this time, with Jason Todd – whose only wish was to be close to the great Batman – there was no possible way that Bruce could screw this up. Or so the man had thought. Somehow, he’d managed to push even the ever-so-violently-brash Jason away.

“And how was your day Jason?” Bruce asked over dinner – despite the fact that Jason had made a point to ignore the man all afternoon.

“It was fine.” He sighed, with a deject shrug. “Y/N took me out after lunch, so it wasn’t exactly the worst.”

Y/N gave him a teasing pout, “You make it sound like seeing me isn’t the highlight of your day.”

Jason’s answering expression was something of an amused smirk, with a playful eye roll thrown in the mix. For whatever reason Jason’s grumpy mood was directed only at the big bad Batman. Y/N gave an exasperated sigh as she tutted into a spoonful of her dinner.

“Oops, sorry Jay,” She snarked, “I didn’t mean to get in the way of your whole teenage angst thing. How long does it take you to make your hair look like you could careless in a perfect sorta way?”

Bruce had no idea what his daughter was going on about but his newest protégé obviously did. The boy had to wait several minutes for his shoulders to stop shaking in silent laughter before he answered;

“It was your bike helmets, the style just seemed to suit me.”

Y/N cracked a smile, “Sure does, Boy Blunder.”

“Oh, like you’re not the clumsiest girl I’ve ever met,” He grumbled, running a hand through his hair unconsciously. “You tripped over like three times, at the park today.”

“Wait, you two went to the park?” Bruce interrupted.

“Well yeah,” Y/N shrugged, “Jason told you, I took him out of school after lunch so we could get ice cream.”

Jason scoffed loudly, eyebrows raised, “When you say it like that it sounds like you didn’t roll up on your motorcycle and threaten Gregory.”

“That was his name?”

“You what?” Bruce demanded. “What were you thinking? What if the press finds out?”

“Say they’re lying? I don’t know what you’re worried about, I’m the lost daughter of Gotham they’re not going to do anything.”

Bruce opened his mouth to continue ranting, likely about how she was being irresponsible and painting a bad picture for the Wayne name. She’d heard the same lecture a million times before, Jason probably had too. So, when her phone started ringing merrily, both were a little more than relieved.

Holding a silencing finger up – rather rudely, but what did she care – she held the phone to her ear for a moment. After grumbling a few affirmatives and answering a few no doubt strange questions, Y/N hung up and turned to Jason.

“I’m going to see a friend after dinner,” She gave a wicked grin. “Care to join me?”

***

Jason Todd was glad he wasn’t a villain. He’d rather fight Joker a hundred times over than spend more than a handful of minutes in Arkham Asylum. It was fucking creepy as shit. With damp corridors, low ceilings and rows of flickering lights it was straight out of an old horror story.

But Y/N seemed right at home as she strode beside him, navigating the halls like she knew the place inside and out. It was not reassuring. She strut between the barred doors, paying little attention to the cackling lunatics within. For whatever reason Jason had assumed that they were going to meet a level headed companion. Perhaps one of her colleagues from the bureau or a down to earth socialite that she’d befriended.

Instead, they were being escorted through a fucking prison. It seemed that the woman wasn’t done scarring him just yet. At first, he’d chuckled at the idea; how could she beat making a seasoned Gotham thug piss himself with only her eerie singing? The answer was simple – by dragging him through the prison of Gotham’s most wanted, most of whom were likewise pissing themselves at the mere sight of her.

“We just passed Bane,” Jason gawked, “He fucking bowed.”

“I’ve been at this a hell of a lot longer than you,” She shrugged as if it were that simple. “I figure that being nice to the villains gets you further in life, but some of them – Bane for example – think that’s weakness. So, I had to show him that my kindness is a blessing. One that he should be begging for.”

Jason reminded himself why he wanted her on his side. She was a different breed of vigilante, one that people thought twice about crossing. He doubted that the GCPD ever gave her trouble like they did to him and Bruce. Perhaps she had scared the shit out of them too, or maybe they left her be because all she did was sing her song and everyone fell to their knees.

Not for the first time he wondered what it had been like when she’d first started out. She must have done something to command so much respect. Somewhere along the lines, she must have been forced to prove herself. He wondered if she’d ever killed anyone in pursuit of the power, she now so carelessly wielded. It wasn’t exactly unlikely.

“So, who are we visiting?”

“Harvey Dent.” It fell silent for a moment, as Jason waited for her to explain. But the silence seemed to only stretch on further, as they made their way through the Asylum.

“Two-face?”He exhaled heavily, “Why the fuck are we visiting a half-retired, back alley villain? He’s got no stake in the upcoming war, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t know shit about it.”

“Harvey knows something about everything,” Y/N assured as she straightened out her blazer. “He’ll have plenty of information about your precious little clown fight.”  

“You sound like you know him.”

“In the old days - before the whole acid to the side of his face thing – he worked with my father. Putting the criminals, we caught behind bars.” She tugged at her sleeves, hating the fact that she’d been forced to wear the stiff outfit to convince the guards they were on ‘official-business’. “Dad tried to rehabilitate him a few times but I… Look I’m not proud of it, but I set him up to take outa few low-level criminals.”

“You set him up to take people out?” Jason couldn’t hold in his snickers if he tried. “You, little Miss. Perfect Daughter of Gotham? I don’t believe you for a second.”

“That’s funny, bird brain.” Y/N pulled at the shoulder of his own suit, making sure it sat properly. “Anyway, when I was trying to get the court to let me leave Gotham, Harvey helped me. He’s an A-list Gotham asshole but he keeps quiet enough that he can discreetly provide information.”

“I could’ve gotten us the same info.” Jason rolled his eyes, “What’s the point of all this when we could punch it out of the Joker himself.”

They paused in front of a door, “Well that’s not exactly discrete is it? The point of calling me in, was to minimize damages, wasn’t it? If we can get the right information, we could defuse all this before it even starts. So, think of this as your second lesson.”

“Yeah, so lesson one; fight with the Robin symbol.” He scoffed, “Let me guess, lesson two; try talking first? Bruce would be so proud.”

Y/N sighed heavily. She dug a key out of her pocket, wondering how any of the criminals in Arkham, managed to stay there for long at all as she unlocked the door in front of them. A familiar half-melted face greeted her from the metallic table he’d been handcuffed to. Two-face’s signature coin, rolling between his fingers.

“Lesson two is shut up and do as I do.”

A/N: With the second season of Titans finally on Netflix, this story is going to be updated far more frequently so I’d like to ask; After the Joker v Harley fight is cleared up, would you like to see some things from Season 2? 

And further on in the story, there might be some discussion around who the reader's mother is. So if you have any thoughts or recommendations on who Y/N’s mother should be, feel free to comment them!