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#everyone ignore the fact the book is backwards okay
emderperq · 4 months
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I watched gravity falls for the first time!! (blaming @yellow-yellow-jacket for the brainrot)
there are alternative versions on my twitter and insta!!
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slxsherwriter · 1 month
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Might Just Save You Yet
Fandom: 2001 Maniacs, Robert Englund characters
Pairings: Hinted Buckman x female reader
Word Count: 2,905
Warnings: This whole movie serves as a warning
Author's Note: *throws hands up in the air* I guess this is a thing? Englund characters won't leave me alone. But really, as fucked up as this movie is, there's a charm to the character that there shouldn't be and damn it, Robert makes him likeable to a degree. Tagging: @slashingdisneypasta & @tinalbion Hope you guys enjoy! There are two other ideas coming for this fool.
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When you woke up just as the two in front had decided to take the detour, you briefly wondered how the hell they had made it into college in the first place. The detour sign was not official, and it didn't take a genius to see that. Because the jagged wood, painted letters, and backward lettering itself, it could not have possibly been any more obvious. But, the three knuckleheads you had somehow gotten stuck with to make it down for Florida for spring break had decided that the detour sign had to be followed.
“Seriously? Are we really taking directions from a homemade detour sign?” Anderson chuckled softly.
“Ah, calm down. It's nothing you gotta worry about.” Nothing.. lord help you the man that you called a brother was an absolute idiot at times. How you were related remained a mystery.
“When we are all disembowed in the back woods with no one coming to ever find us, don't blame me.’
“Jesus Christ, way to be over dramatic. This is why you have no friends.” You rolled your eyes.
“Maybe if you were a little more mindful, you could actually get a girl to pay attention to you, Nelson.” The other two laughed as you gave it right back to their friend. You probably should have just stuck with your original plan to fly down to Florida. You weren't staying at the beach house with the boys. No, a week-long externship had come up at a clinic that exclusively worked with veterans, and you had jumped at the chance. It wasn't like you were going to do anything besides relax and maybe draw some while on spring break anyway, and the opportunity was too good to pass up.
Anderson had told you that they were driving through, so he and his friends would pick you up instead. He had said that he wanted to see you. Part of you suspected that Corey and Nelson, friends of his since middle school, had wanted to take another shot at hooking up with you. Like damn dogs, they continued to bark up that tree every so often.
“Like you would know what it took to get a guy anyway. You're an uptight bitch.” You swallowed a retort, knowing that nothing you said would help the situation. Anderson finally jumped in.
“Hey, hey. Okay, there's no need for that now. Everyone just calm down. Besides, look, there is a town right here.” He pulled up slowly, easing off the gas as you made your way through what seemed to be an abandoned town. Everything looked like it was right out of a history book. Maybe it was a reenactment setup? They had plenty of those scattered in odd locations. You had a few friends who took it very seriously and had brought you along on a few. Enough to recognize it.
“Seems like a ghost town.” Of course, as soon as that left your brother's mouth, the car pulled up to what appeared to be the center of the small town, and suddenly, there were people everywhere. Music was playing, and they were all cheering. Almost instinctively, you curled a little further down in the car. That was far too much attention for your liking. An odd sense naggled at your brain, but it was something that you ignored, attributing it to the fact that you were now all the center of attention.
“So much for a ghost town,” you mumbled, though the guys were too dumbfounded to really be paying attention. Still, manners dictated that you didn't entirely hide, trying to offer a polite smile.
“Welcome to Pleasant Valley!” The man that stepped forward had an air of authority to him. He paused as if waiting for a reaction from the four of you, and when he got none, he leaned forward with a small laugh. Everyone in the mass who had surrounded was cheering, and it died out just as quick when there wasn't a response. The guys were entirely caught off guard, and you were suffering from a little case of the nerves. “Well, don't be a wet ding dong, fellas,” he offered as he hurried around the side of the car towards your brother.
“Buckman's the man, mayor’s my game.” He was standing beside the car now and finally seemed to notice you sitting in the back seat, and that seemingly impossible wide smile broadened further. “Now, why don't cha'all here, give us a big howdy due..hmm?” His hand was held out to Anderson, and in the blink of an eye, the older man had practically yanked your brother out of the driver seat with ease. Shaking hands, your brother remembered some manners.
“Anderson Lee, nice to meet you, sir.” Corey and Nelson were exchanging looks that could easily be deciphered as get a load of this. He managed to introduce you as his sister, but when he attempted to offer the names of the other two, Buckman interrupted.
“Lee Anderson, Lee. My, my, my. What a beautiful surname. Ya'll ain't from the south now, are ya?” You decided to jump in.
“Yes, sir. Born and raised. We were raised in South Carolina. Anderson decided to go north to school. I stayed a little closer to home, in North Carolina.”
“Then ya crossed over to the other side, I see. Well,” he hummed and glanced towards you for a second as he tipped the front of Anderson's hate. “Well, we might just save you yet.” Anderson wasn't sure how to take the comment judging by the confused look on his face. The crowd moved in a little closer as Corey and Nelson got out of the car, leaving you the only one in it. Which meant you had to get out. Slipping from the car, you held your bag close. Buckman turned his attention from Anderson back to you.
“You see, ya'll arrived just in time to be our honored guests at the Guts n’ Glory Jubilee!” The banner was hard to miss. Red, white, and blue, it hung just over the crowd that had gathered behind Buckman. The cheering started all over again, and you couldn't help but smile. Was it a little off? Maybe. You could have arrived in a backwoods town, one of those off grid sort of deals. Or these reenactors were seriously into their business. Either way, there was a light atmosphere. That nagging worry remained in the back of your brain, ignored still.
Corey was murmuring to Nelson, causing you to reach out and smack at his arm.
“Don't be rude.” They rolled their eyes, but their attention was diverted when a scantily clad woman walked up to the mayor. You blinked for a second as the woman instantly flirted with the two beside you. Buckman had shifted over you subtly in that time, inching closer as the boys had their full attention on Miss Peaches.
In a whirl of activity, more individuals showed up, including the car that you had met up with at the last gas station. While your timetable was tight, you didn't want to be disrespectful or rude. At least that was your reasoning for staying while the boys were only thinking with their lower brain.
It wouldn't be so bad, right? The air was crisp and clean. The heat hadn't fully set in just yet, leaving you comfortable in the quiet outdoor setting. There was a rush towards the hotel because apparently rooms were waiting. Another oddity. You had slipped towards the back of the pack and opted to enjoy a little peace, finally away from the boys. Besides, this seemed like a lovely spot to settle in and maybe do a little sketching.
“Well, darling, just what are you doing out here?” You had found a spot under one of the trees closer to the edge of town. Settled down, you had lost track of the time that had passed. It must have been at least a couple of hours, judging from where the sun was overhead. Buckman was standing just a few feet from you, hands in his pockets and observing.
“Oh, I'm sorry, sir.” Smiling, you hoped that he wouldn't have seen the act of you seeking some solitude as an affront to the hospitality that had been offered. “Been with my brother and his friends for a day and a half. Wanted a little peace, and it's just so nice out. Well, I wanted to take advantage. I didn't mean any disrespect to you or Mrs. Boone by it.” There wasn't a hint of anger as he strolled closer.
“Ain't nothing to be worried about. Just wanted to make sure everything was alright. Everything is alright, isn't it?” You relaxed further against the tree after having gone a little rigid when he first found you.
“Absolutely.” You wanted to ask what the deal with the setup was, but figured if it was one of those off the grid communities, you risked offending him. So, with all those southern manners you were raised with, you offered compliments instead. “You seem to have a little piece of paradise here. The town, the land. Seems like it really lives up to its name.” Buckman stood just a little straighter at that, hands coming from his pockets.
“What a sweet talker you are.” You laughed. “We pride ourselves on our little town. It's very kind of you to notice all the work that we put in.”
“Give credit where it's due.” It had made a great subject for your artwork.
“Well, I hate to interrupt a lady at peace, but dinner is going to be ready soon, and Granny Boone is expecting all our guests.” That was the moment that you realized that you hadn't eaten since yesterday. Quickly, you tucked away your pencils and closed your sketchbook. A brush of your pants had you free of any debris that remained on the ground.
“Dinner sounds wonderful.” You were surprised when the man offered his arm out to you. Deciding there wasn't any harm to it, the offer was taken. The walk back to the hotel was pleasant. The man asked questions every so often, centered around you. There was a certain charm about him that you found endearing and oddly attractive. Maybe it was because it was harmless. You wouldn't be here long, and surely nothing could come of it.
“Sounds like a noble cause, helping those that have served their time.”
“I don't know if I would call it noble. It's…just the right thing to do.” Buckman hummed for a moment before opening the door to the hotel for you. “Thank you.”
“It's not something most these days seem interested in, is all. Focus seems to be elsewhere for most.” That was something that couldn't be argued, and you conceded the point. “Why don't you go on and sit down, now. Dinner's almost ready.”
“Anything I can help with?” Just as you asked, an older woman appeared, all smiles just like Buckman had been.
“I won't turn down a helping hand, even if it is a guest. You mind setting the plates out, dear?”
“Not at all.” You took what she had in her arms and she motioned to send you away towards the table, only catching the briefest hint of low tones as if the two had waited for you to step away to talk. It was either your imagination or truly a private conversation. Shaking your head, as if the negative feeling could be physically removed, you worked on placing out the plates and silverware that the woman, who you assumed was Granny Boone, had placed in your arms.
Dinner was a fairly quiet affair. While Granny Boone was kind and funny, she most certainly took no shit and reminded you a bit of your mother. The cooking had been fantastic, and you had made sure to mention such.
Now, the boys were having dessert, Granny was playing the piano, there was an arm wrestling contest going on, and you were content to sit curled in a corner, working in your sketchbook once more. Instead of the town, you had decided to focus on the people in the room this time. Granny, in particular, since she seemed to be genuinely enjoying what she was doing.
Slowly, bodies leaked out of the room, though one slipped in after being absent. Buckman. He sat nearly atop the piano, sipping from a jug and just observing. While the music continued, the other noise quieted down slowly. Until you heard footsteps approaching. Nelson, of all people. The hoped that he wouldn't bother you if he wasn't acknowledged was squashed instantly. A little liquid courage was apparently the only thing needed for him to change his opinion of you being an uptight bitch.
As soon as the arm was around your shoulders, you shrugged it off and stood up. The two at the piano watched cautiously. You could see them trying not to gawk, and it just caused a rush of embarrassment to hit you.
“You can keep your hands to yourself. How many times does it take for you to realize that I'm not interested nor will ever be. Just because your friends with my brother doesn't mean I have to put up with your shit, Nelson. And, as far as I remember, your last opinion of me was that I was an uptight bitch. So, even if you were the last option on the face of this planet, it wouldn't happen.” Before he could attempt any retort, you walked from the room. The urge to run had been resisted by the skin of your teeth.
Stepping out into the cool night air was a relief. There wasn't enough light out here for you to finish your sketch, but that didn't matter since it meant that you were alone. Sitting down on the steps that led up to the hotel, a heavy sigh threatened to cave in your chest, and you buried your face in your hands for a moment. Breathe, just breathe. The mantra repeated over and over. God, did you hate confrontation like that. And to do so in front of practical strangers?
A soft weight rested against your shoulders, startling you.
“Easy,” Buckman nearly whispered. A blanket, he had wrapped a blanket around you. “Didn't mean to frighten you. Just thought ya might want something to keep the chill off ya.” He was being polite and not bringing up what had just happened.
“Thank you…” Another sigh and the wood creaked under his weight before he settled at your side.
“Some boys just don't learn their manners.” The comment brought a little, depreciating laugh before you could stop it.
“Understatement of the century.” A quiet chuckle was his response. “I'm sorry about that. My brother's friends have a habit of not thinking anything through.”
“Nothing you gotta apologize for, ain't any of that on you. They just need their mommas to tan their hides a bit more so they start respecting others.” You both fell silent as the small noises of the night started to echo out. Insects, birds, the rustle of trees and branches. It had always been pleasant and relaxing to listen to after the day had ended. The silence between you was comfortable, not awkward, and not one that you felt compelled to fill. He didn't either, it seemed. After a few more minutes, it was finally broken.
“I uh, see ya got that little book with ya. What were you working on in there?”
“This?” While you were always drawing, you didn't often share openly. But, there was something about the moment that pushed you towards it. A sense that he could appreciate it. “Nothing much. Just a little sketchbook.”
“Mind if I take a look?” He held out his hand but didn't move to grab the book, waiting for permission. After a second of hesitation, you wanted it over.
“The last one isn't finished yet….” The one of Granny Boone. The first few pages were random little ideas without too much detail since it was a relatively new book. The next three were from today. Two of the town and the last being what you had told him wasn't finished.
“Granny is gonna love this,” he finally spoke softly, amusing lacing the words, but they were genuine rather than mocking. “Ya felt that inspired by our little town?”
“There's certainly a draw.” You missed the giddy grin that overtook his features for a passing moment before it was schooled a little more into a more normal smile.
“I'm touched that you see such charm in our town. And lord, is there some talent here.” Well, there you go again, the heat rising to your cheeks. “Not too many see the town like this.” There was an odd note to his voice, then that caused you to look up. You couldn't place the emotion then. Longing? Desperation? Nostalgia? Either way, it settled there, making the usually peppy and excited mayor seem melancholy until the smile returned, brushed off as if it had been nothing more than a fly on his shoulder.
“Hard to see why. Nice southern hospitality, peaceful, little off the beaten path to make it feel separate from the rest of the world.”
“Glad you think so, darling.” You glanced back out towards the town once more before your world went black.
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what's your favorite punctuation mark? i hear everyone asking? well, firstly i don't choose favorites okay they're all my favorites. but secondly...
punctuation-completionist's favorite punctuation matks
firstly, i gotta give credit to the dashes, specifically the en dash, em dash, and figure dash! (–,—, and ‒) because... they're just nice! (see a post about dashes here for more info on them)
i am a HUGE sucker for the love point. it is not unicode approved (but you can see it on my post about hervé bazin's punctuation marks here for a picture of it) but it is absolutely ADORABLE. literally kind of obsessed
the semicolon. am i biased because i read a book about them? probably but.... ignore that fact. especially the nicolas jenson semicolon; i mean it's frankly just adorable.
the percontation point: see the fact that it's literally perfect. i talked about it briefly before but we can go over it again!! it's used to indicate that a sentence is rhetorical! can you think of a more useful punctuation mark⸮ it even looks like a backwards question mark which is cute.
the fleuron (specifically the hedera ❦) is one of my favorites though potentially describing it as a punctuation mark is a tad... debatable? fleurons are SUPER cool though, they're sometimes referred to as "horticultural dingbats" (which sounds like a very funny insult) but like they're basically just little floral motifs <3 it's very cute, look em up there are a bunch of em
and lastly... the interrobang. obviously. i mean look at it‽ it has a fascinating history, i love the etymology of the word, it's just a very nice punctuation mark
and those are my top eight punctuation marks!! happy punctuation day all of you lovely people!
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notproofread · 1 year
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so i finished a court of wings and ruin
man i have so many thoughts i don't even know where to start but this time i made notes while reading so strap in because there is A LOT to say
i'll start with dearest Feyre darling because damn she is one hell of a main character and not in a good way.
The psychological warfare at the beginning of the book? So cool, especially when she was working against ianthe and the hybern-Siblings because it really felt like her feelings towards them were truly justified and the pure dislike made it all the more satisfying when she won against them (especially ianthe that disgusting piece of shit i fucking hate her).
But i am not too much of a fan of the whole "let tamlin and lucien suffer" thing... Or more like her plan to rope in the whole spring Court and basically leave them to die at hyberns mercy very cool feyre you totally are morally superior
actually it kinda feels like she is taking the moral high ground over EVERYONE which... idk girly you are not exactly perfect and flawless either
also ummmm why is the first thing she and rhys do after being re-uinted fukcing? what about your oh so important sisters bestie... i am actually disgusted
after feyre arrives in the night court again she seems off somehow. there is no focus to her character, she is all over the place even. her part in the spring court was so clear, thoughtful and she had a goal. now that she is back in the night court it feels like a lot of building up (but it is rather boring lol)
alsoi need her to stop meddling with other peoples romantic feelings and romantic interests you don't have to force everyone into a relationship especially if they don't want to!!!!!!!
ALSO also start thinking about your actions before you do them. I'm tired of having to read about how she regrets something she did over and over again
the fact that she FORGETS her sisters????? FORGET??? A HUMAN BEING??? HELOO?? especially elain??? wtf how are you not worried to death about your starving, grieving, lovesick, maybe probably traumatized sister(s)???
and besides why does she think so ill of nesta? wow she is smiling? omg i thought she was made of stone?!?!!? (this is sarcasm btw) she says its an "eternal shock" for her to see nesta almost smile wtf she is still your sister that went through trauma since childhood not a monster you found in the fucking woods
why is feyre happy for elain slowly overcoming her trauma but shocked at nesta? i smell favoritism
and AGAIN i hate that she doesn't like to hear/feel/see the consequences of her own actions. like i already said her actions aren't always justified and when she faces repercussions she blocks the images from her mind lol sure okay that's how growing as a character works
example: she starts arguments with other high lords, insults them and gets pissed when they insult back or not jump immediately to her proposition like babe... what did you expect?
im tired of feyre hoping/thinking that everyone will fold backwards for her and rhys. we know that what you are fighting for is right and important but other high lords do not. they are centuries old, ignorant bastards not everyone is a rhys or a tarquin or even a kallias. they will cause problems on purpose, get used to it please or at least stop being overdramatic at every insult they throw your way jesus
unfiltered thoughts after the weird mor-feyre-beef (??): FUCK THIS i am OVER it, i am OVER feyre what in the dumb fuck is this? mor just told you that she was angry with you because you lied to her and rhys and could have been captured or killed by hybern so feyre responds with confronting mor about her feelings ("lies" ok bitch) towards az and helion. what kind of a shit friend are you??? jesus fuck i hate her so much rn
no wtf wtf i cant believe that this is how feyre defends herself??? MORS (romantic) FEELINGS ARE NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. YOU VANISHING ON HER AND LYING IS HER BUSINESS. STOP FUCKING MEDDLING WITH EVERYONES ROMANCES AND SORT OUT YOUR OWN FUCKING ISSUES
fuck off
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shi-daisy · 1 month
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what do you think of Elaine?
Short answer anon, I hate her.
Long answer, oh boy.
So Elain in book 1 wasn't much of character but rather a plot device. We learn she likes plants and gardening, especially flowers. (Cool why the hell didn't she plant edible flowers or something stull baffles me) we learn she's 'kind' still graceful and probably their dad's favorite. Okay, then Feyre is off to Prythian and we don't see her again till later. Though I will point out there's a scene where she recoils from Feyre because she's 'dirty' but we were just told she's a gardener, why you pulling away from dirt if you garden? Unless she was pulling away from her sister, in which case that's cold. Funny that doesn't get scrutiny unlike Nesta.
In any case then we see her again thriving after the family gets their fortune back, good for her I suppose. Until she's complaining that Nesta is gloomy and that might upset their new friends. Girl check on your sister maybe?! Nope, Feyre deals with that instead and Elain is right there with Daddy trying to get Feyre suitors.
Book 2 and 3 I felt sad she was forced to turn and lost her fiance and life, so at least on those books I was neutral to her and she did have great moment with helping to take down Hybern. Otherwise tho, I didn't care much.
Then comes the novella and I am ready to throw hands and win against her. So Elain got mated to Lucien. She's not happy about, she just lost the man she loved, her father, her humanity, had powers she needs to control and seems to be getting on better with a diffrent man.
Okay, that's understandable, I felt bad for her in that situation and yes just cause she's mated to Luce doesn't mean she owes him shit. So, she could just tell him politely to back off, tell him to wait or outright reject the man if she's certain she wants nothing to do with him. He'd be heartbroken but would understand. Well nope, she ignores Lucien as if he is a ghost and doesn't even acknowledge him. Sorry what? Girl, have the spine to talk to him directly! Tell him no, speak to the man even if it's to tell him off! No can do, Feyre is the one dealing with it (poorly I might add but this is about Elain)
There's also the fact that in book 4 she is dismissive of Nesta. This woman bended over backwards while traumatized to help you when you were losing your shit and now that she needs support 'Ewww I don't wanna go to a tavern ickkkk' Some sister she is.
Worst of all, none of this is called out. Unlike Nesta who Rhysand is determined to break into bits 'Elain is Elain' and she's scrutinized for nothing and the narrative wants me to think she's innocent and naive baby. Press X to doubt, she reads like she's cutesy and manipulates people with that.
Come book 5 I wanted to toss her. She doesn't take Nesta's side, gets mad she didn't heal in a week (Even tho Elain is still healing and took like few months to be functional again) and then at the party she goes 'Were you paid to attend this one too?'
I would've scalped her for this! Fuckin bitch how dare you complain Nesta isn't healed fast enough and then say shit like this to her! She is a dog, as long as she's not caged or pushed to search for the troves she keeps her yapper shut and let's them throw Nesta around and make her miserable. People say she's also a victim of Rhysand but no. If she was she'd fight against him, she'd confront him like Feyre did (for a while at least) and Nesta. But she does not push, she knows Rhys likes her so remains meek and calm and let's everyone else take the fall. She might complain if she's pushed towards Lucien but who knows maybe he'll break it off upon seeing her misrable.
I hate this woman. I'm dreading the fact that if her endgame is Elucien she won't be forced to apologize like Nesta and Feyre were no no no, instead Lucien will have to apologize to her (and maybe even renounce Tamlin. Luce if you do that I'm not having mercy on you either!) and he'd probably have to become a High Lord too cuz God forbid Elain over here lives a simple life with the exiles. He'll be forced to change for her and she's gonna still be portrayed as uwu baby cuz she's pink and cutesy. Gross.
If her endgame is Elriel at least Luce has a shot at a better partner and she and bland emo are equally dull so they don't ruin better characters (please Gwyn get away from that shadow moron you're too good from him!) Though knowing SJM she might just make Lucien a villain if Elriel is Canon cuz God forbid the Night Court be called out for trying to force them together and use Lucien.
Wish fulfillment tbh, that Lucien tells her 'One of the reasons I left Spring was to see if you were worth it. I got my answer, you weren't' I'd fucking cheer if this happens I'd frame it on my wall. I would love that. Cuz omg do I really hate her. This is why I didn't save her in my fic.
Elain exudes 'I use my cuteness and innocence to get what I want' and if intentional this would make her a cool character. A feminine woman using her wilds to keep herself out of danger and trouble, yeah I'd like that. But SJM keeps insisting this woman is baby and after all we've seen so far I just don't buy it.
Perhaps she could fix her in her book if she says sorry to Nesta and Lucien (even if it's likely they'll say 'Don't worry bout it') and if she yells at Rhys for pushing her on Lucien and using her as a bargaining chip with Nesta. Do that and she could be fixed real quick but I doubt that'll happen so for now I'm not a fan.
Hope this answers your question anon!
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madalice31 · 7 months
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People are so fucking weird and backwards.
Folks flipped the fuck out when Millie Bobbie Brown got engaged at 19. There was so much backlash talking about how she was “too young” to be engaged. But oh it’s quite alright for Halle Bailey to be a baby mama at 22.
20 something maybe too young to get married but certainly not too young to have a kid. Smh. Y’all gurls really THIS okay with baby mama culture huh? I remember when our community (the black community) was looked down on for being a baby mama. But Kylie came around and made it cool? I swear yall sling the word woke around a lot but everyone is still sleep.
Like the comments about people “hating” on young mothers? Can we get real? At least Millie’s boyfriend proved his commitment to her by proposing BEFORE knocking her up.
DDG has been playing throughout his relationship with Halle. The drama with his ex. Like are we really gonna ignore the red flag that he dived straight into his exs DMs the moment he had a disagreement with Halle? That’s how you resolve the issues in your relationship bro? Oh he thinks because he can take her on shopping sprees (that she can fucking take herself on) that’s more than enough to be a good man 🙄. The song talking about him being jealous of her career and sabotaging it. Knocking her up don’t sound like sabotage to yall? And he love calling her “the Mrs” but he was not as quick to put a ring on her finger as he was to raw dog it. And now, after the fact, y’all see him rushing to Zales or Jarred? 🙄 she ain’t even said she loved him until she started dressing differently. Aka until she knew she was pregnant. Now suddenly he the love of your life. Smh. I don’t blame Halle. She’s young. I’m just wondering where her team at? Where Chloe at? If I’m being honest, that’s who I would have expected to pop up pregnant. I mean every song is about getting her back blown out. Seems like she was ready for these streets lol. But truly, did no one have a conversation with Halle to not take her first real relationship too seriously, especially when she’s at the start of her career? ESPECIALLY when he’s such a cornball? I didn’t know who he was until she started dating him. Someone said he got his family out the hood with YT. I’m sorry, since when is that a unique story? Plenty people in this day and age have been able to achieve that, doesn’t take away the fact that they problematic if they are.
I mean someone else said, she’s still Halle. She’s still gonna be booked. It’s not 1964. No it’s not. But women aren’t even allowed to have abortions now, remember? We don’t have governance over our OWN bodies in 2023. This false sense of progression we have as a society is truly concerning. And I mean honestly, maybe for a Millie, it wouldn’t have that much of an effect on her career if it happened to her. Maaaybe. But for a Halle? We already got to fight for a seat at the table. They will use any and every excuse to take that seat from you, no matter how much they claim to like you.
Halle’s career is about to come to a standstill. I don’t know her so I don’t know how she feels about it. But there’s a reason young actresses and singers try to avoid pregnancy when their careers are just starting to take off. Hell just women who have regular careers outside of the spotlight avoid pregnancy early in their lives because as much as people like to act like it’s nothing to have a baby, it’s life changing in a way that no one really talks about or no one really digests.
And now Disney has already removed their submission for her to be considered for best original song for the Little Mermaid. That could have at least been her first Oscar nomination. But we all know Disney don’t play about their image and even tho she’s 22 and not 16, they’re gonna distance themselves. Yeah, it’s not 1964 alright. And I’m sure that’s one of many opportunities she will lose out on.
No judgment tho. I wish her the best and I hope he does right by her. I’m sure she will still be successful but I doubt her success will look the same and that’s the part I wish folks would keep it real about.
All the while I’m wondering where Ms “mentor” Beyonce is. 👀 too busy cheesing with Taylor Swift of all people. Smh. Let me not get started.
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Petals In A Storm
Chapter 12: The Truth Hurts
Saskier, Jaskel, rated E, emotional hurt, panic, minor sex scene
Fic masterpost
When Jaskier finally got out of bed, it was almost noon and he still hadn’t managed to clear his head, just fill it with more turbulent thoughts.
He groaned, rubbing at his face while he considered his options. He could choose to corner Geralt, ask him what the hell he was talking about. He could ignore what Geralt said last night, maybe spend the day with Sam and Eskel. Yennefer might be willing to have him visit her for a bit.
He was mostly tempted just to spend the day alone and avoid everyone. If he spent his time hiding in the library, that might be okay, although Eskel and Sam would probably come looking for him at some point. It also meant another day carrying heavy books back and forth again. That thought didn’t entice him.
Maybe he could find a room he hadn’t been in before and just sequester himself up for a while. He was sure he must be able to find somewhere new, even if he had seen a lot of places whenever he got lost.
Except he was now finding his way around much easier. Would it be believable if he got lost? Did he even care?
 His hand reached out to touch Sam’s side of the bed as he considered what to do.
Then, closing his eyes and swallowing, he got up.
The first thing Jaskier did was head out towards the training pit. He knew at least one of the witchers would be out there training and it would only be polite to watch them work out at least once.
The fact that it might give him an excuse to talk to Geralt had nothing to do with it, he tried to tell himself. Nope, he was just mildly curious to see if all the witchers trained in the same way. He imagined that Ciri would be copying Geralt at the very least.
When he arrived, a good half hour later after he left his room because, although he was getting used to the keep, he couldn’t seem to go anywhere in a straight line.
Emerging into the bright winter’s day, he saw Coën and Lambert grinning wildly at each other as they fought, blunt metal swords flashing in the sunlight.
Geralt was off to the side with Ciri, practising swinging their wooden swords around over and over.
There was no sign of Eskel. It made Jaskier frown just a little bit, but he supposed that the witcher was probably off mending the keep again. Maybe even helping out in the kitchen.
He sat down with a sigh, pulling out his book and pen, and began scribbling. The dull twang of swords became meditative as the words fell out of his head and onto the page easily.
The ache in his bones started to ease the more he jotted down his pain from the last day. It was therapeutic as usual, joining his other heartbreak, but this one was different.
He gazed over at Geralt, watching him teach his child surprise. He could see the concentration on both their faces, then the small upturn in Geralt’s lips as Ciri did one of her moves well. It was odd to see him with the young girl after all the years he tried to avoid his destiny.
Fatherhood suited him, as Jaskier always knew it would.
What would their life have been like if Geralt had asked Jaskier to help raise Ciri? He could imagine her as a young girl running between their legs as they travelled the countryside. Ciri would stay in Jaskier’s arms as Geralt went off to fight whatever monster he was contracted to slay, and Geralt would look after his daughter at night when Jaskier played for their supper.
Jaskier was staring at them both with glassy eyes, his hand hovering over the page with his quill, when a loud laugh drew his attention over to the other witchers.
It was Lambert, guffawing as he stumbled backwards from Coën’s blows. He managed to steady his footing, launching himself back into the fight, slashing at his brother.
Coën has to defend himself as Lambert launches more vicious blows, aiming to knock him down onto the ground like he almost had just moments before.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jaskier sees Ciri barely waving her arms about, too distracted watching the other witchers.
Luckily for Ciri, Geralt hadn’t noticed her distraction yet. Jaskier snorts, already hearing what Geralt will say when he sees her dawdling.
He was so caught up in everything that he almost jumps out of his skin when a large body sits beside him.
“Afternoon,” greets Eskel, his hand twitching as it lay across his own thigh. “Didn’t know you wanted to watch us train.”
“I just fancied the fresh air,” Jaskier deflects. He gives Eskel a winning smile, scooching closer so that their legs rub together.
The witcher places his hand onto Jaskier’s thigh, squeezing lightly, and his eyes fall down from Jaskier’s face towards the book that lays open in his lap.
“What are you writing?” Eskel asks, pointing at it. Jaskier waves the book in the air, hiding his words and pretending he is still waiting on the ink drying.
“Just getting some feelings out,” he admits.
It feels vulnerable to say the words, so he deflects again by winking at Eskel.
A slow smile spreads across Eskel’s lips. They lock eyes for a long moment and Jaskier leans over to kiss him when there’s a loud clatter near them.
They turn to look and see Coën lying on the ground, Lambert’s blunt sword at his throat.
“Got you,” Lambert goads, kicking against his brother’s side gently.
“Ow,” Coën complains. “Stop being a dick.”
“Never,” laughs Lambert, but he draws his sword away and bends over to help Coën get back up onto his feet. They pat each other on the back before Coën turns to face Eskel.
“Your turn, Big Bear,” Coën calls out as he walks exhausted towards them. He collapses with a loud sigh, patting Eskel on the back. “Off you go, show us how it’s done.”
“Alright,” Eskel sighs, pushing himself up. He bows before Jaskier like knights do in tales of old before heading over to Lambert.
Coën snorts.
“He’s such a sap.”
“Why would you say that?” Jaskier asks. He’s barely paying Coën any mind, but he is curious about what his words mean.
Eskel is big and strong, all muscles and height. Soft wasn’t the exact word Jaskier would use for him, especially not when the witcher had begun thrashing his sword against Lambert’s, pushing him backwards with such ferocity.
“Not soft like you, little bird, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Coën leans back with his arms propping himself up, making small grunts of joy as either of the witchers defeat the other.
He claps his hands often, loud enough to disturb Jaskier from his writing. Eventually, Jaskier puts down his book and watches.
It is then that he notices Geralt and Ciri have disappeared from the training area. Damn. When had they left?
He doesn’t get to ponder this for long as another body sits beside him.
“Hey,” Sam greets, smiling at him. He unfolds a cloth in his hands to reveal two rolls filled with cheese. He offers one to Jaskier.
“Thanks,” Jaskier says in gratitude, taking a bite. He tries to subtly move his notebook across his lap and slip it down between him and Coën, away from Sam.
“Feeling inspired?” Sam asks, his voice quiet as Coën continues to shout, groan and berate his two brothers.
“A little,” Jaskier admits. He knows Sam can’t know what’s written in his book, but he feels his face heat up regardless and curses himself for it.
Sam is considering him, his eyes narrowing briefly, but then he turns and watches the fight happening before them.
Jaskier turns too and sees Lambert swiping at Eskel, smacking hard against his leg.
Eskel grunts and then spins, making an attack that Lambert dodges. They parley back and forth, neither gaining or losing any ground.
Coën is beside himself, his voice bouncing loudly off all the ancient stonework of the keep and telling them both how to fight better.
Not that either of them are paying Coën any attention.
It’s when Lambert makes a small mistake that Eskel gains the advantage and ends up throwing him forcefully to the ground, his sword pressing against his belly.
“Alright, you win,” Lambert snarls, wheezing on the ground.
Coën laughs, but Eskel doesn’t join in. He helps Lambert up, then dusts himself off and walks over to the rack and puts their swords away.
Lambert and Coën banter, slagging each other off for having been beaten today, like it was some kind of competition.
Maybe it was.
With everyone standing around, talking, it looks like training is over for today.
Jaskier gets up, jogging from side to side to get the blood flowing in his legs again. Perhaps also burn off some of his nervous energy.
He doesn’t even realise that his book sits abandoned on the ground.
Not until too late.
Jaskier stares in horror as he realises Sam is leaning down to pick it up.
“Looks like you forgot something,” he says merrily, placing the book in Jaskier’s trembling hands.
Jaskier’s heart beats so hard and fast, he’s surprised it’s not punched a hole in his chest.
“Prick,” Coën exclaims loudly behind him, making Jaskier jump and stare at the rude witcher. He was sure that Coën must know his secrets, being a witcher and all, but the witcher wasn’t even looking at him.
“Language,” Eskel reprimands, walking up to Coën and lightly banging his shoulder off him. “Next time, fight Ciri if you want to win.”
Coen snorts, “Yeah, right.” He turns, patting Lambert on the back and joining him in walking indoors.
“We should go in. Sun is getting low in the sky,” Eskel assesses, looking up at the sky.
Jaskier’s hands twitch as he holds onto his notebook, but he nods and starts walking in with the rest of them.
He isn’t sure where they are going, but it seems Eskel has other chores to do, and Sam needs to get back to the kitchen.
“You can come, if you want,” Sam suggests, but Jaskier shakes his head. He still wants to get Geralt on his own.
Jaskier had walked the length of the keep several times, he was sure, but he still couldn’t find Geralt.
He’d even tried Yennefer’s lab, but the witch was teaching Ciri and Geralt didn’t seem to be anywhere in the room, so he left.
It was almost dinner time, and he decided there was nothing else to do but make his way to the great hall for the second time that afternoon.
He opens his notebook, tracing the lines of his words he had written about Geralt earlier with his fingers. Each word sends a bolt of pain through his heart as he remembers every wish, every desire he holds for the man that he had shared most of his life with.
His mind floods with the memories. The fond looks he had given Geralt over the campfire at night. How he had watched the witcher work from afar as Geralt dealt with yet another monster.
The times they had shared a bed at an inn were the worst to consider.
It was at that moment, Jaskier’s mind stuck in memories, that Geralt chose to walk into the room.
Jaskier rushed to stand up.
“Geralt,” he gasps, almost breathless.
The witcher doesn’t respond to him, and Jaskier watches him walk deeper into the room.
He almost didn’t see Sam and Vesemir walking in.
Jaskier gulps guiltily, shoving his notebook into his coat pocket.
Then he looks up at Sam, who gives him a small peck on the cheek as he passes, holding a large dish of whatever tonight’s meal would be.
Jaskier doesn’t really care what it is. The only thing he can concentrate on is the itching feeling across his skin.
He sits back down, waiting for Sam to join him, but the baker stands talking with the witchers.
Jaskier sits there, staring into space, as Yennefer comes into the room. She waves at Jaskier as she pushes Ciri towards their usual seats.
Jaskier waves back half-heartedly.
Sam laughs at something Vesemir says, and Jaskier feels his nerves outtake him, so he forces himself to space out, his eyes roaming over the rough stonework.
It’s certainly a lot neater in this part of the keep than anywhere else, he notices.
He’s still musing what that means when Sam pushes a bowl of sausage and potatoes in front of him.
“Oh, sweet Melitele! Where on earth did we get these?” Jaskier asks, stunned, before Sam gets to sit down.
“You can thank Lambert for that,” Eskel informs them, grabbing a bowl towards himself and tucking in immediately.
“Why?” Jaskier asks, but then it dawns on him. “Oh, right, the hunt he went on the other day.”
“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “Something different for a while.” He winks, then tucks back into his food.
Eskel sighs contentedly, having already finished his food. He leans back, pushing his bowl into the centre.
“Are you going to write a new song?” he asks.
The question was unexpected, although maybe it shouldn’t be. Regardless, Jaskier gulps, dropping his fork and cursing as it clatters on the table.
He’s about to pick it up when Eskel snatches it from his grip and wipes it clean before handing it back to him.
Jaskier takes the offered fork and immediately digs into his bowl and begins eating again until Eskel reminds him of his question.
Fuck, normally he wouldn’t shut up about his work, but right now, Jaskier’s mind swirls.
“I’m not sure if it will work but I’ve got some ideas jotted down,” he explains, looking down at his dish as he pushes mash back and forth.
He could feel Sam looking at him, watching him. Jaskier raises his head, looking back at Eskel, and then at Sam.
“Sometimes ideas don’t blossom into anything… usable.”
It was a lie, but hopefully a convincing one to anyone who didn’t know the first thing about music.
Eskel considers his words, then nods approvingly.
Jaskier is thankful when the conversation moves on quickly, with Sam and Eskel talking about Vesemir’s sense of humour and what it’s like to work with the old witcher.
It’s a relief that no one asks him to play tonight, and that’s something that Jaskier hasn’t felt since that day on the mountain.
Melitele, that hurts to think about. Jaskier eats one final mouthful and then pushes his dish away.
“Had enough?” Sam asks, stacking the other dishes together.
Jaskier nods.
“I’m tired,” he confesses, leaning on Sam’s shoulders. It doesn’t last long as Sam gets up, taking away the dishes.
Huffing, Jaskier pretends to be put out even as Sam trots back quickly.
“Come on. Time for bed,” Sam announces.
Jaskier fell asleep quickly after they got into bed.
It wasn’t normal for him, but it had been an exhausting few days. So, he didn’t think about it much until he woke up early the next morning and saw Sam sitting up in bed with his notebook in his hands.
Jaskier lets out a loud gasp and sits up, looking at Sam with wide eyes.
“You’ve been writing about him again,” Sam comments, like he was talking about the weather, but Jaskier knows he’s been caught out.
“I- I wasn’t,” he stutters, but Sam turns and looks at him with such a stern look that he stops speaking immediately.
“I don’t understand. Every time I feel we move forward, that you are finally moving on, something like this happens. It’s like you enjoy being miserable.”
Sam then turns to cup Jaskier’s cheek, looking deeply into his eyes.
“Do you even know what you want?”
Jaskier can feel the tears starting, the pain ripping through him. Yet, he also feels anger flowing through his veins.
He throws the furs away to get out of bed.
“I have a very big heart, as you well know,” he spits out.
“Get back in bed,” Sam orders wearily, but Jaskier just shakes his head in refusal despite his skin being covered in goosebumps already.
“No, no.”
He knows he was being dramatic, but he can’t help it. His mind is already telling him that he deserves this, that he is always too much, takes too many liberties.
Sam throws a fur at him, and even though he doesn’t want to accept it, he wraps it around himself.
Jaskier sits down at the bottom of the bed and pulls his legs up under him. Immediately, he begins biting his nails.
“I can’t keep doing this. I thought I could manage but I can’t. You need to choose. Choose me, choose Eskel. Hell, I’ve been fine with you sleeping around. I’m fine with Eskel being in our lives. But this obsession with Geralt needs to stop. He doesn’t want you.”
“He does,” Jaskier disputes quickly. His eyes flicker to see Sam’s heated glare, then he looks back down again.
“He said something,” he states weakly.
Sam lets out a long sigh. “Unless it was ‘Jaskier, I want to be with you’ it doesn’t mean anything. You know that. We’ve been through this.”
He leans forward, throwing the book across the bed to land beside Jaskier. It makes Jaskier flinch, but he picks up the book and holds it tight against his chest.
They sit like that for a long time, till eventually Sam pats the bed beside himself.
Jaskier shakes his head. This might be their first fight, and Jaskier knows that Sam wasn’t trying to make him feel ashamed, but this feels like their mountain. Another breakup, this time with a relationship to actually break.
Gods, he’s been so stupid. All his life, people had told him he was a fool and now Sam can see it too. It was probably only a matter of time.
“I’m sorry,” Jaskier blurts out, then stands up, dropping the fur. He runs, grabbing his clothes and shoving them on as quickly as possible.
“Where are you going now?” Sam asks, exasperated, and Jaskier can barely answer as he slips out the door.
“Away.”
He runs down the corridors, desperate to get back under some furs again. It felt like no time at all until he’s standing outside Eskel’s door, rubbing his hands over his face to get rid of his tears.
Just as he’s about to knock, the door opens and there stands the witcher, emerging out of the darkness like the moon on a cloud-filled night.
“Jaskier,” he rasps, his voice a quiet storm of emotion in the silent space.
“Can I- um,” Jaskier stammers, shaking his head. “Can I stay here tonight?”
Eskel frowns, looking around the corridor.
“Where is Sam?”
“In bed. We had an argument. Can I please come in?”
Nodding, Eskel takes Jaskier’s hand and hurries him towards his bed, wrapping him in as many furs as he can.
“I need to get some more furs. I don’t have enough for you to sleep here,” Eskel states, then walks out the door.
While he’s away, Jaskier cries into the furs. He hopes he can get it all out quickly but he can’t seem to stop himself when Eskel returns.
He hears Eskel hurrying over, throwing the furs on top of him. Slipping inside, his arms wrap around him and Eskel gently shushes him as he sobs and sobs.
It takes a while for Jaskier to stop crying, but he does eventually stop and then drifts off to sleep.
When he wakes, Eskel is still holding him. His arms are wound tightly around him as if Jaskier would run away being held back.
The witcher is laying kisses on his neck, muttering words into his hair.
Jaskier blinks, unsure if he wants to move or just snuggle in deeper.
“Good morning,” Eskel murmurs, his words rumbling through Jaskier’s body. It’s a pleasant feeling that Jaskier would gladly get lost in, but he squirms, turning around in the witcher’s arms.
“Hello,” he breathes, reaching up and capturing the witcher’s lips with his own.
Eskel sighs happily, pulling him closer again, kissing him deeper.
Jaskier moans, sliding his left leg over the witcher. He pushes Eskel to lie on his back so he can straddle him better, then quickly starts pulling off his own shirt.
He’s stopped by Eskel gripping tightly around his wrists.
“Do you really want to do this?” Eskel asks.
“Yes,” Jaskier replies, breathlessly. He wants to forget. He wants to feel good like he knows Eskel can make him feel.
Slowly, Eskel lets go of Jaskier’s wrists.
For a second, Jaskier does nothing, just looks into Eskel’s eyes.
Then, his hands move fast, working to strip them of their clothes.
He pushes up the witcher’s shirt and trails his fingers across the muscle and scars.
Eskel makes soft groans in pleasure and Jaskier eats up every sound. Each time he trails kisses, his tongue lapping across the witcher’s skin, Eskel sighs contentedly.
It seems no time at all until Jaskier is pulling down the witcher’s braies and swallowing his cock down his throat.
It’s delightful to work his tongue around the sensitive head of the witcher’s hard cock. Each time he pulls another moan from Eskel’s lips, Jaskier feels his own cock throb and ache.
He slips a hand into his breeches and grabs hold, storking himself in time with the rhythm of his mouth as it works over Eskel.
The witcher’s hands are in his hair, holding on tighter and tighter the closer he gets.
It hurts, but it also feels so good.
Each hum he makes vibrates through the witcher’s cock, and Jaskier knows he’s close.
So close.
Barely seconds later, Eskel spills down his throat. Jaskier speeds up, jerking himself off quicker and finding his own release.
Afterwards, as they lie in bed, Jaskier’s eyes flutter heavily and he’s sure he’s going to fall asleep again.
Just seconds before he succumbs, Eskel makes the suggestion he’s dreading to hear.
“You should go speak to Sam.”
No, Jaskier wants to scream. He wants to say he can’t, not yet, it’s too soon.
“Maybe later,” he says instead.
Eskel doesn’t say anything and Jaskier is relieved. It’s better this way. Let time soothe things out and then he can talk to Sam.
The witcher leaves him alone in the room and Jaskier sleeps for a while.
An hour later, he’s up and busying himself with writing, letting more despairing words pour out of him and onto the page. It feels good to let it out. Sure, there are more tears but what was the creative process without them?
This is his art. His pain is his paint.
It keeps him occupied for most of the day. So much so, that by the time dinner comes around, Jaskier feels drained. His head hurts and he needs a glass of water quickly.
He wanders down to the great hall and finds Eskel. The witcher has sat down already and is tucking into a bowl of food.
Jaskier scans the room, looking for Sam, but doesn’t see him anywhere.
That doesn’t seem right.
“Hi,” Eskel says in greeting, but Jaskier isn’t interested in saying hello.
“Where is Sam?” he blurts out, his eyes roaming the room as if Sam will suddenly appear from behind a pillar or from underneath the table.
“He’s not been around all day. Did you speak to him?”
Jaskier doesn’t answer. His heart is beating fast and there’s a buzzing in his head. He turns, running over to Vesemir who’s laughing with Coën.
“Where’s Sam?” he begs and curses himself when the old witcher turns to look at him with a concerned look on his face.
“He didn’t come back after speaking with Yennefer.”
It’s at that unfortunate moment that Yennefer enters the room, walking in with Geralt and Ciri.
“Witch,” Jaskier spits venomously. He charges towards her and Geralt steps in front, pushing Yennefer behind him.
It doesn’t stop Jaskier.
“Tell me where Sam is?” he screams.
Geralt looks over his shoulder at Yennefer, confusion clear on his face. Yennefer nods, clearly not wishing for his protection, and Geralt moves out of the way, defeated.
“He came to me this afternoon. He asked me for a favour and, well, I couldn’t say no, bard.”
“A favour! What favour?” His hands are shaking by his side, nails digging into his palms as his world quickly falls apart.
“I opened a portal…” Yennefer starts to explain, and that’s when Jaskier breaks.
“Send me to him. Now! Please. I need him back.”
Yennefer glances at Geralt, who shrugs. It’s Vesemir who puts an end to the dramatic scenes.
“Come here, boy,” he commands, taking Jaskier by the arm and leading him to sit down. “You’ve had a shock. You need to eat or drink something. Take a breath.”
“No. I need to find Sam.” Jaskier refutes, attempting to get up, but Vesemir holds him firm with strong hands on his shoulders.
“Eskel will look after you while I find out what’s been going on,” he states firmly.
Next chapter
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Text
Collateral Damage || Drabble
Fandom: Ace Attorney
Wordcount: 1,594
Warnings: Angst of the night terror kind, implied murder, implied poisoning and it’s effect, probably very toxic behavior and just a lot of angsty feels.
Short summary: Klavier’s mind tries to subconsciously confront Kristoph about everything that’s come to light, but all he seems to get in return are answers to questions he fears to ask while awake
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Klavier ran into the court district, the tap of the soles of his shoes echoing harshly in the silent and darkened hallways, as he went up the stairs to the defense's department.
He swung open the door to the only office that was lit, finding his older brother behind the desk in the swiveling chair found in any of these rooms.
"Tell me it's not true."
Kristoph didn't react at all, merely keeping his nose in a thick law book and turning yet another page even as Klavier spoke. The fact that Kristoph wouldn't even give him a second thought stung so deep that Klavier got closer, slamming both of his hands on the defense attorney's desk
"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"
 Kristoph gave a small huff with no discernible emotion behind it other than vague amusement- did he think this whole situation was funny? But then he finally looked over the rim of his glasses at his younger brother.
"What do you want?" he asked, his tone somehow cold and neutral at once.
"What do I-" Klavier started, unsure if the emotion he felt was disbelief or rage; honestly, maybe a bit of both given the circumstances.
"I want you to tell me /why/! All of this- Everything you-"
"Well, like I so often tried to get through your thick skull, Klavier, even the why can be found in the evidence if you bothered to look. But you rather waste time with practiced poses and your feigned likable persona than doing your job as a prosecutor."
Kristoph slammed the book down on the desk, the sudden noise sounding like a gunshot in an echo chamber; and it was loud enough that it made Klavier flinch backward. His back hit a wall, slightly pushing him back forward against the prosecutor's bench of the courtroom, as his brother stood opposite of him in the well.
"So try and keep up for once as we review the evidence, okay? If even a buffoon like Justice can figure it out then the least you can do is try to follow along-"
"Kristoph!" Klavier yelled, trying to gather his thoughts as well as interrupt his monologue
"Do you have any idea of the damage you've done?! You've left two separate young girls orphaned! You tried to poison- to kill one of them! There are just children-"
"Oh?" Kristoph scoffed. "Are they what you're concerned about?"
 He pointed towards the witness stand where Trucy stood, frozen in position as her face was stuck on an expression of deep shock. At her side stood Vera, who had a million mile expressionless stare on her sickly pale face and looked like she could pass out at any moment.
Kristoph just observed them for a moment with absolute disinterest, before making his way over to where they stood.
"Kristoph, leave them alo-"
"Do you think they share the sentiment?" Kristoph asked, turning towards his brother as he leaned back on the witness stand, ignoring how close he was to either of the girls.
Klavier tried to look for a way out to get over there and at least create some distance between everyone involved- since when had the prosecutor's bench become an inescapable box? It was only then that Kristoph's question sank in.
".... What do you mean?"
Kristoph's face twisted into an annoyed scowl as he marched over to the prosecutor's bench.
"Oh come on Klavier, you're neither that naive or selfless. Do you seriously think either of them have the same concern for you? Miss Misham sure didn't when she called you 'the devil' to your face just because of your likeness to me."
Klavier flinched.
"And as far as miss Trucy Wright is concerned; not only did I make her an orphan when I killed her biological father, but I'm also the reason her adoptive father got disbarred, and she had a helping hand in making it so.
… Oh, but she's not the only helping hand in the matter of Phoenix Wright's disbarment, is she?"
As he had paced over to Trucy to emphasize his point, so too did Kristoph cross the well to get back at the prosecutor's bench; and into Klavier's face.
"So are you just going to stand there and pretend like you care about anyone in this case when all that our 'lovable' rockstar prosecutor actually wants to know is why his darling older brother threw him under the bus? How did you even think I was privy to the knowledge that Mr. Wright was forging evidence, huh? I feed you one crucial detail to your case and you never stop to wonder how I even managed to get it?!"
Kristoph leaned his elbows on the stand, his glare cold and hard as he stared at his brother, while his lips curled up in a devious smirk.
"Have the hair bleach fumes really gone so far up your head that you'll think they'll forgive you?"
It would've hurt less if Kristoph had just driven a knife straight through Klavier's heart.
"Or hell, do you think they'll believe you? What did you think was going to happen, Klavier? That if you just stuck your head deep enough in the sand that all of this would go away? For someone who speaks so much of finding the truth that he'll even weasel around to help the defense along for a not guilty verdict on someone you deem innocent, you'd really rather run and hide from when an uncomfortable truth is staring you right in the face!"
"Stop it!" Klavier yelled, once more trying to just interrupt the ease with which Kristoph always took the spotlight and twisted things in his favor.
"How could I have known you'd- I thought..."
It was so hard to get the words out with the lump stuck in his throat and the tears burning behind his eyes as Kristoph seemed to rip and jab at every exposed nerve in Klavier's feelings. And his distress got him nothing but an eyeroll from his brother.
"You're my brother. I never had a reason to doubt-"
 "Oh my god," Kristoph groaned, the tone both exasperated and annoyed as he pushed himself up from his leaning position against the seemingly shrinking prosecutor's desk.
He lunged forward, roughly grabbing Klavier by the jaw to force him to look at him
"What was I supposed to do? Wait for you to finally step your game up and do something to ensure the legacy of our family name? I always had to be the one paving the way while you just kept yourself busy with frivolous things like a side career in music and "finding the truth in any case". Truth. What a joke."
He let go, straightened his posture and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.
"You know what, Klavier? Mrs. Courte was wrong. The end justifies the means. Any. Means. And you?"
"Kristoph, please-" Klavier started, in a desperate attempt to get through to the brother he knew... or thought he knew, anyway.
"Were nothing but a means to an end."
And it that moment it felt like someone had turned Klavier's heart in to glass, only to watch it shatter on the floor in a million broken pieces that could never be put back together quite right.
"You don't- Wait!" Klavier pleaded as his brother turned on his heels, walking away from him down a dark hallway, all while Kristoph began chuckling to himself.
Even if the seemingly insurmountable prosecutor's bench hadn't been in his way, Klavier's feet were frozen in place as all he could do was to desperately reach out to his brother who walked further and further from view; all while the chuckling slowly turned to the hysterical laughter his brother had let out when the whole thing unraveled that day in court.
"We have to fix- Kris, please, don't leave me, PLEASE-"
 Klavier shot up in bed with a loud, desperate gasp as it felt like all the wind had been knocked out of him, the feeling of his racing breathe high and sharp in his chest. It took him every shred off willpower to remind his training as a vocalist and breathe deep and low from his stomach rather than so high from his chest and even so....
It did nothing to lessen the sharp, stinging pain in his heart.
His hands reached up to push his hair out of his face, keeping them there as despair started to overwhelm him while he was simultaneously trying to remind himself that he was just in his bedroom
It hadn't been real. It had just been a horrendous nightmare. The only thing real and tangible was the extend of the horrendous crimes his brother had committed
He only realized he was crying when the tears dripped down on the covers of his bed
A voice in the very back of his mind whispered how he was ever going to make it up to Trucy or Vera, and as soon as the voice was finished bringing it up one of Klavier's hands instinctively moved and clasped over his mouth to hold back the wave of nausea that hit his stomach.
He had no idea how he was going to fix any of this. How he was going to mend the pieces of their shattered lives, or if they even wanted him to.
And how could he even begin to help them if he didn't even know how to pick up the shattered, broken pieces of himself?
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caspercryptid · 2 years
Note
viktor and jayce meet for the first time and the first words out of jayce's mouth are "marry me" you decide the rest
OKAY. drunk frat boy jayce. really, really drunk frat boy jayce. some implications of bad shit at college parties and hazing. I would like everyone assured that Viktor gets Jayce's drunk ass home alone (despite Jayce's best efforts) and there is no blurry consent. Enjoy!
___
Viktor likes his job.
Or, really, his volunteer position. If he’s being completely honest, he does it mostly because it keeps him in Heimerdinger’s good books, but well. First of all, that was an important place to remain. Second of all, it gave him an excuse to wander into the open frat parties he’d never have dared to show up to otherwise and harass upperclassmen. Occasionally, it meant he witnessed someone making a bad choice and got to interrupt them. Occasionally, it meant calling the police. Occasionally, it meant... this.
Viktor’s job was very simple. On the nights of the weekend, he went back and forth through frat houses, and made people drink water, checked if they had rides, made sure no one was having any medical emergencies. He usually only took one night a week, because his leg always smarted the next day, but he was never one to let that hold him back.
So. Water. Rides. Calling ambulances.
Fielding marriage proposals.
“I’m afraid I'm married to my work.” He very gently tells the boy half sprawled out backwards on the couch. “Will you sit up?”
“I don’t wanna.” He groans, stretching. His shirt rides up over absolutely perfect abs, and Viktor does his level best not to look down, but the image is burned into his peripheral vision.
“I’ll consider your marriage proposal if you sit up.” Viktor coaxes, and then has to choke down a laugh as the boy sits up, hurriedly, hair flopping. He really is pretty. Probably a new pledge, given how absolutely wasted he is, and the fact that he’s wearing a T-shirt that says bitch on it. Better than conventional hazing, Viktor supposed.
“Thank you,” Viktor tells him, leaning in a little to adjust his weight and snorting when the boy leans in close to him. He puts a hand firmly on his shoulder to push him back into the couch. “What’s your name?” he prompts.
“Jayce.”
“Alright, Jayce. Since you were so moved by my offer of water that you proposed, do you think you could make good on it by drinking some?”
“Your face.” Jayce says, tone informative.
“Is that an insult?” Viktor deadpans. “I like my face.”
“I like your face too.”
“Than– why have you mentioned it.”
Jayce opens his mouth, closes it again, looks confused. “What did you– say?”
“That since you were so moved by my offer of water–” Viktor starts to repeat, patient, but Jayce perks up, like a very content puppy.
“Your face moved me.” He says, like he’s just remembering. “Not the water. Your face. I like your moles. And your chin.”
Viktor blinks, a little surprised. “–thank you.” he says, and then shakes himself. “Water.” he says.
“What?”
Viktor lets out a breath and then just unscrews the lid on the bottle, and then holds it to Jayce’s lips.
“Slowly.” He says, gently, and very resolutely thinks about puppies and nothing inappropriate as Jayce’s lips part around the bottle. He really is pretty. A little dribbles down his chin, and Viktor carefully leans his cane on the couch and shifts his weight so he can gently catch Jayce’s chin and tip it up a little, feeling his sanity fracture a little as Jayce leans into the touch. He pulls the bottle back, and Jayce makes a little protesting noise, even as more water goes down his chin, and Viktor takes another deep breath, and thinks about– puppies.
That is not making him think less about Jayce.
Dammit.
Viktor makes a last minute decision and sets the bottle down in Jayce’s lap, ignoring the way he looks down at it like it’s a new and fascinating toy, and pulls out his phone, shooting off a quick Done for the night text to Heimerdinger and the little group chat of volunteers, and he adjusts to sit down next to Jayce.
“Why don’t you tell me about yourself while you sober up?” he prompts, because honestly, Jayce looks far too hapless to leave alone, especially with the way the frat brothers tended to kick around their pledges.
That was definitely the only reason.
As Jayce perks up, happy, Viktor realizes his lie isn’t even working on himself. Deep in his gut, he just really... wants to keep this boy company. And to make sure he’s okay. Because dammit, the eyes are getting to him.
It’s definitely just the eyes.
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earlgreydream · 3 years
Text
i hate you.
| 1940s!bucky x reader | fluff | smut |
requested. greaser!bucky au. enemies(?) to lovers. @fitzfiles​ and i are shamelessly indulgent
bucky made up his mind, he was going to win you over. 
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Bucky Barnes was the asshole across the street with the stupid loud motorcycle and white tees and leather jackets. You hated him. 
“Hey, doll.” 
You heard it every day when you came walking home from school, books in hand. And every day, it irritated you. You would scowl at Bucky, and he would flash his stupid smirk and wink at you. 
You’d see him shirtless at night, smoking out on his porch. Once, he caught you staring out the window, and he’d teased you about it the next day on your way off to school. 
“Checking me out last night, doll?”
“Don’t call me that. It’s Y/N. And no I wasn’t checking you out. I was watching you die slowly of lung cancer,” you snarked, making him throw his head back with laughter. 
“If smoking doesn’t kill you, I will,” you muttered before going inside of your house.
“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!” You screamed, throwing your front door open. You were wrapped in a blanket over your thin pajamas, and you were infuriated.
“What?” He called with a stupid amused look on his face.
“It’s five in the fucking morning! Stop revving the engine on your motorcycle! You’re waking up the whole neighbourhood!” 
“You’re the one screaming.”
“I hate you,” you seethed. 
Without breaking eye contact, he revved the engine again. You were so irritated you could cry, and you resolved yourself to go back inside, refusing to let Bucky get the satisfaction of seeing your reaction to his antagonizing. 
This had gone on for months. You were able to ignore him most of the time, but he was persistent. Your friends joked that he was in love with you, but you couldn’t imagine it. Bucky was delighted to get you worked up, and he was proud of himself for it.
“You’ve all lost your bloody minds,” you assured your friends, dragging them inside as Bucky whistled at you from across the street.
“He’s just my annoying neighbor.”
Bucky seemed to be always washing his yellow car in his driveway. You’d come home and see him shirtless, in low-rise jeans that showed off v-lines, bent over the hood of his soapy car. If it wasn’t the car, it was his motorcycle. He always winked at you or blew you a kiss, making you shake your head or roll your eyes.
 You hated to see him washing his car, because it made it that much more difficult to deny how incredibly gorgeous he was. 
Bucky delighted in getting you worked up. He loved to see your cheeks flush pink and the way your nose scrunched up at his banter. He had a crush on you, ever since he moved in, and he always loved your attention, even if he got it by antagonizing you.
Bucky did intend to get in your good favor, but you had made up your mind that you didn’t like him. Bucky was determined, and loved a challenge.
Bucky decided his opportunity to win you over was when it was pouring down rain. The morning had started out sunny when you’d walked to school, but the weather had turned rapidly mid-morning. 
He got in his yellow car, and drove to the college in town, parking outside and going into the lobby with an umbrella. He leaned against a railing, waiting for you to get out of your class, to give you a lift and keep you from getting soaked and ruining your books.
As soon as it started to rain, you’d fretted about getting home. You didn’t have any friends that drove, and you had been debating whether to wait out the rain or just brave it and get wet.
You definitely didn’t expect to see your neighbour leaning against the railing in the front lobby. 
“Hey, doll.” He grinned, standing when you approached him. He had ignored the stares of the other girls, everything else disappearing when he saw you. 
“Bucky, what are you doing here?” you sighed, blushing at the stares you got, everyone hearing his term of endearment for you. 
“I brought my car, I didn’t want you to ruin your books and get wet by walking home in the rain,” he answered honestly, surprising you.
“You drove here to pick me up?”
Bucky nodded, and you fought off a small smile. You didn’t like him, and you were annoyed, but the gesture was thoughtful, and much appreciated. You rationalized the soft feelings by claiming it was basic decency, and it was necessary that you had to take him up on his offer.
“Okay.” 
You took his arm and he opened his umbrella, keeping you dry as he helped you into the passenger seat of his yellow car. You set your books on the dash, leaning back against the leather seat. As he drove, the radio played smooth jazz, surprising you a bit, as Bucky didn’t seem like the jazz type.
“Bucky, you’ve missed the turn.” You said, and he only smiled, biting the inside of his cheek. Your heart rate increased as he drove into the city and you whipped your head to look at him.
“Where are you taking me? I thought you were taking me home!”
“I am taking you home, eventually,” Bucky grinned, and you could’ve screamed.
“You can’t just abduct me! Where are we going?! I will throw myself from your moving car!” You snapped, panicking. 
“I’m not abducting you! I’m taking you to have some fun, because all you do is study and it’s made you wound tight!”
“You’re kidding me. I’ve got to write a paper!” You cried, and Bucky just laughed, shaking his head.
“Just relax, Y/N.” 
You gave him a scathing look, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“You’re insufferable.”
“Most say charming.”
You followed Bucky into a roller rink, rolling your eyes but secretly excited about rollerskating. You slipped your feet into white skates, thankful today you had chosen to wear pants. 
You stepped onto the rink with Bucky right behind you. It had been a while since you skated, and you were a bit unsteady on your feet. You pushed forward, putting your arms out for balance as you tried to get used to the feeling of the wheels under your feet.
“Careful!” Bucky exclaimed when you nearly fell, catching your waist to steady you. You gasped, your hands going to his arms for balance. A blush spread across your cheeks, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the gentle, caring way he touched you.
“Thanks,” you smiled, pushing off his arms and skating smoothly around. He fell in rhythm beside you, skating to the music. 
He tried to show off by skating backwards, but lost his balance and fell, making you shriek. You moved toward him quickly, and held out your hands to help him up.
“Are you alright?” You asked, and he nodded, biting back a smile.
“I’m fine, I’m okay.” 
You decided you’d had enough then, and the two of you resorted to eating pizza at a parlor down the street, Bucky insisting on you needing dinner before you went home. You shivered as you stepped into the air-conditioned restaurant, coming out of the warm summer evening. Bucky slipped his black leather jacket from his arms and put it on you when he noticed. You whispered a soft thank-you, pulling it tightly around your smaller body. It smelled faintly of smoke and castile soap, like him. 
Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of the sight of you wearing his clothes, his heart stirring as you hugged it around you.  
“Feel better?” Bucky asked as you bit into a slice of pizza.
“I’m not going to let you take credit for loosening me up.” 
“Oh, I haven’t even tried to loosen you up yet.” He joked, making you choke on your water. You glared at him for the suggestive comment, and he smirked. 
You blushed at the insinuation, images of intimacy with Bucky flashing through your mind. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you shifted under his gaze.
“Smartass. You still abducted me.”
“And you’re enjoying it.”
You took another bite of your pizza, finally breaking the intense eye contact. 
Even though you had enjoyed the night with Bucky in the city, and you’d gone home full of butterflies, he had quickly managed to get back on your nerves. 
Bucky’s friends came over to party, and they were loud, obnoxious, and kept you (and half the neighbourhood) up with their partying the night before you had a presentation at college. You were infuriated when you complained to Bucky, and he told you that you should’ve just come to party with them, since you were up anyways. 
Then there was the fact that Bucky kept revving the engine of his damned motorcycle. You hated it, especially early in the morning when you were trying to peacefully trying to pour a cup of coffee. 
You couldn’t stand him, and he just made you mad. 
You hated his motorcycle, and you hated his arrogance. You hated how everyone dropped to their knees at his every whim. You hated when you’d see him painting his fence or working on his car outside, and he’d pull his shirt off when he saw you looking. You hated that Bucky smoked. 
Mostly, you hated how everything Bucky did gave you butterflies. 
Bucky adored the way your brow knit together when you glared at him. He adored the blush of your cheeks and the way you huffed in annoyance. He loved to see your eyes glitter with emotion whenever he got under your skin. He adored the way your eyes lingered on him whenever he was shirtless in the yard.
Bucky adored you.
The night was particularly warm. The summer heat had everyone on edge, and you and Bucky were no exception. The moon was the only light in the starless sky, a dark stillness settling over your neighbourhood. It was incredibly late, but you couldn’t sleep like everyone else. You had been enjoying the quiet loneliness of the night when Bucky had gone outside to the sidewalk. He was shirtless as he lit a cigarette, grinning at you. 
“Hey, doll.”
“Don’t call me that,” you huffed, feeling like a broken record.
“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he blew smoke into the air, and you stood up off your porch swing. You walked across your small lawn quickly, until you were standing in the street. 
“You shouldn’t smoke, it will kill you,” you quipped, making him roll his eyes.
“Don’t stand in the street, a car can come and kill you.” Bucky said back, though there was a tone of seriousness to his voice.
“It’s the middle of the night, no one is going to-”
Bucky suddenly grabbed you and yanked you toward him, making you shriek. Less than half a second later, a car without its headlights on came flying down the street. 
Your eyes were wide with fright, unable to process that Bucky had just pulled you from in front of a car. His eyes blazed with emotion, and you tried to shove off of him. 
“You almost fucking died! I told you not to stand in the damned street!” Bucky snapped at you, raising his voice. 
“Don’t yell at me! I wouldn’t have been in the street if you weren’t such an asshole!” you shouted back, your eyes and throat burning, making your entire body tremble. 
“Why are you so fucking difficult?!” Bucky’s fear at seeing you almost get hit by a car in front of him fueled his emotion, and he didn’t mean to yell at you, but the feelings were boiling over. 
“Because you make me so mad, and because I love you, you idiot!” You screamed before you could stop yourself. When you said the words out loud, you realized you meant them, more than you meant any of the anger. 
There was a deafening silence, and it was too late to take it back.
“Bucky, I-” you stammered, but he cut you off by crashing his lips against yours, pulling you into him. 
Passion lit like a fire between you, and you reached up and held his face, kissing him back with force. You parted your lips and he slipped his tongue into your mouth, moving in sync with you, swallowing your small noises. He cradled your jaw as his mouth moved with yours, drawing you even closer.
The heat practically suffocated you, and you were completely lost in Bucky. He tasted like smoke and coffee, and his body was pressed against your own, overwhelming you with need. His hands slid down to squeeze your ass, and you rolled your hips against his as you moaned. 
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered when the two of you finally broke for air. He wasted no time before mouthing along your jaw, pressing kisses down the column of your throat. 
Your hands ran down his toned chest, before hooking your fingers in his belt loops and tugging his hips closer against yours, wanting to feel him hardening against you. The heat between your legs was spreading, and you were aching for him. 
Bucky groaned against your neck as you ground against him, and he backed you up against his car, needing to ground the two of you. He could hear your small, breathy pants by his ear and you were practically shaking with need. 
“Bucky, please touch me,” you begged, months of sexual frustration pouring out all at once. Who was he to deny you? He kissed you deeply, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing him against your front. 
Your breath hitched when he slipped his hand into your waistband, cupping your sex. You spread your legs a bit, and he slipped his fingers through your folds, tracing the shape of you. 
He hardened at the sound of your soft moans and the feeling of you twitching against his fingertips. Neither of you cared that you were outside, on display for anyone who woke up in the night. 
He found your clit, stroking it softly while you made out, swallowing all of your sexy noises. You were overwhelmed by what he could do with just his fingers, and you somehow needed him closer, even though your bodies were pressed against each other. Your body was buzzing with pleasure from his small touches alone, and you were having the same effect on him. 
“Fuck, Bucky,” you breathed, lightly biting down on his shoulder to silence yourself as he eased a finger inside of you. He pumped slowly, and you took him in easily with how turned on you were. 
“I know, doll, but I gotta warm you up first so I don’t hurt you.” He kissed your jaw, and a short laugh escaped you. 
“Cheeky,” you hummed, palming over his crotch, making him push two fingers into you all at once. The air caught in your throat, but you kept feeling him up as he curled his fingers forward into your g-spot. 
The way you were moaning his name was driving him wild, and he couldn’t draw out the foreplay anymore. You pulled your shirt over your head, thankful you had forgone a bra. Your shirt was discarded in the driveway, and Bucky tugged your bottoms down easily before lifting your nude body up onto the hood of his car. You leaned forward, undoing the button on his jeans and helping him out of them, your eyes widening when you saw how big he was. 
Bucky grinned at you, able to read your mind, your thoughts evident in your startled expression. His ego definitely didn’t need the boost, and you blushed when you realized he was grinning at your observation. 
Your tongue nervously darted out over your lips, and he couldn’t take it anymore. He lowered you to lay down on the cool metal, making you shudder when it came into contact with your hot skin. 
You exhaled softly as his hands skimmed down your body in an attempt to ease your nerves. He leaned down and kissed you gently, bending your legs up to your chest. 
“I’m going to make you feel so good, doll,” Bucky promised, and he meant it. You nodded, your head falling back as he slowly rocked into you. 
Your vision focused in on the moon hanging above you in the sky, and you didn’t care about being outside, even as the warm breeze ruffled your hair. 
“Bucky... fuck,” you whined, arching your back, pushing yourself further onto him. Your knees went over his shoulders, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head as he rocked his hips against yours. 
The slow, deep rhythm had you struggling to breathe, pleasure rolling through your body in thick waves. Bucky was overwhelmed by the feeling of your velvety walls squeezing around him, tight as he fucked into you all the way. 
“That’s my girl,” Bucky praised you as you pushed down to meet his powerful thrusts. 
Your eyes rolled back at the praise, and you felt pressure building low in your belly as he repeatedly hit the spots inside of you that had you seeing stars. You were moaning his name and writhing below him, the sight making him nearly explode.
“Y/N,” Bucky gasped out, fucking into you roughly, one of his hands rubbing your clit to help you along before he couldn’t fight off his own orgasm any longer. 
With the added stimulation, the pressure snapped inside of you, making you squeeze around him and come with a scream, not caring if you stirred the neighbours. 
Let them see Bucky taking you on the hood of his car. 
Your name fell from Bucky’s lips like worship, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you and forcing you to contract around him pushed him over the edge. He came inside of you, painting you with his release and prolonging your own pleasure.
You looked down at him once the buzzing pleasure started to subside, a sleepy smile on your face. He grinned at you, pulling you up into a sweet kiss. 
“Still hate me, doll?”
2K notes · View notes
itsdanii · 3 years
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Because I’m an angst-addicted ball of misery, is it okay if I request drabbles of Fuckboy!Atsumu and Fuckboy!Oikawa being the crush of the reader but she knows of how they treat other girls and doesn’t want to end up heart broken and since she’s shy and introverted, the boys barely know her aside from her being a classmate?
She tries to keep a simple distance away from them until said boys randomly show an interest in her and they start showing her attention, love, and treating her better than the girls they messed with until after a few weeks she overhears from them or their teammates that it’s out of pity/they were bored because Y/N seemed easy to mess with.
Y/N doesn’t let them know she overheard them, instead a switch is flipped and she’s emotionless around them and avoids them. When they ask why she’s like that, she simply says “I won’t let you hurt me like the others.” She basically treats them like they don’t exist (she’s friendly to everyone but them) and said f!boys regret it and bust their asses to fix everything between them (I read how you felt about full angst, so the reader just blocked their number, social media’s, and treat them like the plague until they prove that they truly love her or regret messing with her :) )
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Hey, bub. Sorry for the slight delay! I hope you don't mind me making slight adjustments about the plot for my comfort 🥺 And uh... this drabble turned out to be a oneshot because I got carried away. I only did Atsumu's part which went over 3k+ works 👁️👄👁️ Anyway, I hope that you still like it. Have a good day, stay safe and hydrated! ♥️
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Karma's a b*tch
genre: angst to fluff
warning/s: rude behavior (resolved), cursing, self doubt and insecurity(?), do message me if I missed any
a/n: please do read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason
ft. fboy!atsumu miya, f!reader
never play with a girl's feelings. wanna know why? just read the title.
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You stared at the back of Atsumu's head dreamily, your elbows propped on your desk as you basically ignored the world around you.
Contrary to the belief that noisy students always sat on the back, Atsumu and his twin were actually seated in front. Despite being in the middle of a class discussion, the two kept on chattering as if the teacher didn't exist. The teacher basically gave up already trying to shut them up since they never listened anyway.
You knew that she could've just sent them to detention but of course, who would do that to the miya twins? People almost worshipped them and your teacher wasn't excluded. Everytime she entered the room, you noticed how she would always cast a glance at the Miya twins and smile "politely."
The two, of course, took advantage of it. If it meant being able to get away with their noise by just simply smirking at the teacher in front of them, they'd do it. They already did anyways. They never did anything more than that though, and for some reason you were thankful that they never crossed that line.
You jolted up slightly when the bell suddenly rang, a loud yelp slipping past your lips out of shock. With your eyes widening like saucers, you felt your cheeks heating up when majority of your classmates turned their head towards your direction, some having a grin on their faces while the others having a look of displease.
However, their stare didn't matter as much as a specific person's did. A pair of brownish eyes stared at you intensely, his gaze so intense it was enough to make you almost squirm in your seat.
Feeling your heart rate picking up along with the shiver running down your spine, you looked down at your lap, successfully cutting your eye contact with Miya Atsumu - the guy you secretly liked despite being hailed as your school's certified f!ckboy.
"Make sure to finish all your requirements this upcoming weekend. You're all seniors so I have high expectations on your outputs, understood?"
With a series of "Yes, ma'am," the class was dismissed.
The room was filled with different noises - subgroups gossiping with each other, the footsteps of students hurrying their way out, the rustling of papers, clanking of chairs and the voices of the class representatives reminding the assigned people to clean properly.
It was lively, for them at least.
As for you, you preferred being alone. No, you weren't some weird nerd kid who acted as if they hated the world. Instead, you preferred categorizing yourself as one of those people who were naturally shy and introverted.
You don't really like crowds nor socializing. You've always opted on sitting by the corner, just enjoying the calmness silence brings you.
Grabbing your books from your desk, you stood up and made your way to the door, head casted a little downwards to avoid making eye contact with people, knowing that doing so will result to interactions, and who has time for interactions anyway? Certainly not you.
With the lack of paying attention, you failed to notice someone who was rushing their way out. Like a cliche movie, your body collided with them, the impact causing you to stumble backwards, loosening your grip on your books as they fell on the floor.
Luckily, the person behind you managed to catch you on time, their hand gripping the small of your back to keep your bum from meeting the floor.
"Whoa, there. Ya alright, princess?" spoke the familiar voice just behind your ear, his breath against your skin giving you small goosebumps.
Instantly, you jerked away. Turning around to face him, you bowed down while muttering continuous apologies. "Miya! I didn't mean to bump into you, I.. I swear. I was just walking out and then somebody j-"
Chuckling, Atsumu placed a hand on top of your head, giving your hair a small ruffle which eventually made you look up at him. "Calm down, I ain't mad at ya. No need to be so flustered."
With a stiff nod, you mumbled a small "Okay," before bending down to pick your books off the floor. You didn't fail to notice how your hands were trembling and you silently prayed to whoever diety was watching over you that Atsumu won't notice it.
"Yer y/n, right?" Atsumu asked as he bent down as well, one hand clutching your book as he let his finger trace over the name written on it. "A pretty name fer a pretty face like yers."
You wouldn't be surprised if he'd ask if you were doing okay because by now, you were a hundred percent sure that your face must be looking like a red tomato. "Thanks I guess," you said, giving him a shy smile before taking the book from his hand.
The small encounter was cut off by someone calling for Atsumu's name. Turning your head to the direction of the noise, you noticed Osamu walking towards you with a small frown on his face, one hand gripping the strap of his bag as he went on how they're going to have to run extra laps again if they ever got late for practice.
Atsumu only chuckled at Osamu before turning his focus back on you. With a cheeky smile, he booped the tip of your noise fondly. "Guess I'll see ya around, pretty thing. Careful not to stumble again, alright? Don't want another man catchin' ya."
With that, Atsumu went on his merry way, turning around one more time to send you a wink, chuckling as you gave him a slow wave before his figure disappeared from your vision as a mere dot.
"See ya later..." you whispered on thin air, lips unconsciously curling up as you stared at the direction he went off to. Once you snapped out of your daze, you bit your lip to stop yourself from squealing like a school girl in love.
Well, technically, you were a school girl in love, right?
That night, as you laid on your bed staring at your ceiling full of glow in the dark stars, you thought that maybe it wasn't so bad making conversations with people every once in a while.
-
The days went by pretty quickly.
At first, you thought that everything will be back to normal. After all, you never tried associating yourself with people. Your high school life was basically nothing but waking up early for school then going back home after class and then repeat.
However, something was strange. In fact, it was very strange. Not only were people trying to befriend you but the one and only Atsumu Miya was actually making an effort to talk to you, and to say that you were confused would be an understatement.
He basically didn't pay attention nor spared you a glance before, until that day you bumped into him.
You knew that it wasn't a good practice to judge someone based on what other people say but he wouldn't be called as your school's f!ckboy for nothing. He'd change his girlfriend almost every week as if he's only changing clothes, cruelly dump those who did not meet his certain standards and doesn't care even if a girl cries infront of him. Those are exactly why you tried not associating yourself with him nor his twin.
But there was something about Atsumu Miya that kept on drawing you in. You didn't know if it was his annoying piss colored hair, intense gaze, or the aura surrounding him. You couldn't help but wonder how someone like him, the exact type of person you swore you hated, managed to keep you attracted like a moth on to a flame.
It was weird.
And yet you loved it.
"Ya know y/n, ya kinda wound me," Atsumu said, plopping himself down beside you on the cafeteria.
With your hand clutching the chopsticks mid-air, you surveyed your area, noting how some heads, specifically the Inrizaki VBC's, turned to your direction. "Sorry, what do you mean?" you muttered as soon as your eyes met Atsumu's.
"I literally thought we're already friends when I saved yer ass from falling backwards," Atsumu answered before stuffing his mouth with an Onigiri, no doubt made by Osamu.
Placing your chopsticks down, you wiped your lips with some napkin before speaking up. "I'm sorry for asking this but... what's with the sudden interest, Miya?"
You were aware of how snappy you sounded, but in reality, it was your own defense mechanism acting up. Just how were you supposed to ignore him when it's he himself who kept on clinging to you?
"Hm, what do ya mean? Is it so hard to believe that I'm trying to befriend ya?" Atsumu tilted his head a bit to the side, his lips curling up into a smirk. "Why not try givin' me a chance, princess? That isn't so much to ask for."
You organized your now empty bento, placing it on the side before focusing your whole attention to the man in front of you. "I've seen how you treated girls before," you said with a low voice, averting your gaze from him to avoid melting into a puddle.
Damn stupid feelings.
"I see..." Atsumu said with a slow nod. "Then I guess that makes it more of a challenge."
Your eyebrows immediately furrowed upon hearing that, your curiosity spiking up at what his words meant. "Challenge? What do you mean?"
Instead of answering you, Atsumu just stood up, his bento in hand with the side of his lips curled up. "I'll see ya around, princess."
With that, you were left alone in your table, eyes still trained on Atsumu as he made his way back to the Inarizaki VBC's table. You watched as most of his friends chuckled while patting his back, some even sending a glance towards your direction.
Deciding that pondering over it would only be a waste of time, you stood up and made your way back to your classroom, failing to notice a grey haired Miya watching you.
-
You let out a small squeak as someone behind you reached for the same book you've been trying to get for almost 5 minutes now. Tilting your head back a little, you were met with an upside down vision of Miya Atsumu's face.
With your arms still raised in the air, you spun around to face him, your back flush against the bookshelf keeping you basically trapped. "Miya," you mumbled while looking up at him, one hand fisting the side of your skirt to release some pressure.
"Here," he simply said while handing you the book, obviously holding back from laughing at your flustered expression. "Don't worry, I ain't gonna try anythin' that would make ya uncomfortable. I was just passin' by and saw you strugglin'."
"And he even tucked my hair behind my ear!"
"He did that?" your cousin spoke from beside you.
Both of you were seated on top of your bed, legs crissed crossed as you gossiped about your interactions with Miya Atsumu.
For the past few weeks, you've been having encounters with Atsumu - in the cafeteria, in the library and even outside of school where he claimed that he was out to buy some ingredients for Osamu and only managed to bump into you "coincidentally". Name it and he'll be there.
With these constant encounters stirring up your feelings, you had to resort on calling your cousin for some girl time in order to save your sanity. Luckily, your parents had no objection. They were even happy that you were actually trying to open up to other people. It was only your cousin but according to your parents, "A small step is still a step."
Plopping your back on your bed, you grunted as you placed both of your hands on your cheeks. "Mhm. I just don't get it you know? He's basically this popular guy that plays volleyball, has a group of girls swarming over him and has the face and body that looks like it's been sculpted by God himself, and yet he's wasting his time on me."
You looked at your cousin with a small pout, one hand reaching out to poke her thigh. "Am I just overthinking things?"
With a breathy chuckle, your cousin laid down beside you. "Maybe? I can't really say for sure since I don't know this Miya guy except your description of him, but what I think is that you should give him a chance."
Hearing that, you laid on your side to face her, elbows propped up against the mattress as you rested your cheek on your palm. "Aila, have you been listening to me? He is a f! ckboy. Dangerous, treats girls like shit, and undeniably sexy. What if his sudden interest is only a one time thing? What if he's just messing with me?"
"And what if he isn't?" Upon hearing no reply, your cousin took your silence as her cue to continue. "What if people just labeled him as this so called 'f!ckboy' because that's what they perceive him to be? What if inside him is just someone who's vulnerable, trying to protect themselves from getting hurt by people so they end up hurting others first to save themselves from the pain? What if he's just waiting for someone who wanted to really know him, the real him? Would you really deprive him of that opportunity just because of what you hear from other people?"
"I... I don't know.."
"Miya isn't here to defend himself and I'm not trying to defend him, but don't you think you should at least give him the benefit of the doubt?" Aila smiled as she settled herself on a comfortable position. "Give him a chance, y/n. Everyone deserves to get one. It's up to him to prove whether he's worth the chance he was given."
You sighed deeply, letting her words sink in as you also shifted yourself on a comfortable position, raising your comforter up until it reaches just below your chin. "Then what happens if he isn't worth the chance he's given?"
With a hum, your cousin just shrugged. "Then you either forgive him and let it go or... give him the finger and tell him 'f!ck you' for messing with your feelings," she said with a short giggle.
"It's something only you in the future can decide. Goodnight, y/n."
With a thankful smile, you turned the lamp off as you whispered, "Mh, goodnight, Aila."
-
"Let's be friends," you said as you slammed a box of onigiri in front of Atsumu, a smacking sound resonating in the air making the rest of the boys look at your direction.
Even the sound of balls whooshing in the air stopped, replaced by the sound of them dropping suddenly on the gym's floor.
With his lips parted, Atsumu shifted his gaze from the onigiri, Osamu, Suna and you. "Ah..." he muttered as if he was just as shocked as you for having the guts to come inside the gym in the middle of their training.
Feeling your cheeks heating up out of embarrassment due to his lack of response, you looked down and started to fiddle with you fingers. "You said you wanted to be my friend and I kept on keeping my distance from you so I thought you might appreciate those onigiri as my peace offering." You scratched the back of your head before giving him an awkward smile. "A-anyway, that's all! I'll see you around, Miya!"
Atsumi could only watch you as you dashed out of the gym. Snapping out of his daze, he looked down at the box of Onigiri, smiling unconsciously as he noticed the sticky note posted on top with "Good luck on your practice, Miya! :))" written on it.
"Interestin'," Atsumu whispered before standing up, Kita's voice filling the air as he called the team back for practice.
-
It's safe to say that after that embarrassing moment, you became friends with Atsumu. You even became close with his twin because they were always with each other. It wasn't long then when the usual duo became three - Atsumu, Osamu, and you.
It was hard to adjust at first. Your female classmates would always glare at you and spout out some nasty remarks but the twins were always there to defend you. In fact, you even met the whole team and hanged out with them when you didn't have some academic tasks to finish.
It was fun, and you were thankful for your cousin who gave you the advise of giving Atsumu a chance.
But there was a downside on the situation.
Your feelings which you kept hidden for a long time was only growing day by day, and you were afraid that it was slowly showing signs.
How?
Everytime Atsumu was near, your heart would beat so fast that you felt like you just finished a 4 kilometer run. Your hands would become clammy, breath would hitch, and face would heat up whenever he teases you, and don't even forget to add that one time you literally froze when you spun around, only to come face to face with him - nose almost touching, lips ghosting against each other with only an inch keeping you apart.
You were playing a dangerous game and yet you had no intention of stopping, not knowing that it wasn't only you who had a secret.
Because Atsumu Miya was also playing a game - something much more dangerous than yours.
-
"Where's 'Tsumu?" you asked as you peeked your head inside the gym.
Kita, who was about to walk out, gave you a smile before opening the door wider for you to come in. "Atsumu's in the storage room. The twins made a mess again so I told them to go clean up before we start practice."
"Typical," you said with a short giggle. "Anyway, I'm just going to drop off Atsumu's hoodie that I borrowed last week. I'll watch over them while you do your business."
"That would be great. Thank you so much, y/n-san. Call me if something happens," Kita said, giving you a small nod before leaving.
As you entered the empty gym, you grimaced upon seeing something that looks like spilled milk on the floor. With a shake of your head, you made your way near the storage room sneakily in attempts of scaring Atsumu.
However, as you got closer, you heard two familiar voices. It was Atsumu's and Osamu's voice, and basing from the way they were speaking, it seemed as if they were in the middle of an argument.
"The fuck did ya say?" It was Osamu.
"I said I was only playin' with her. I mean, she's so easy, don't ya think? It basically only took me a couple of weeks and she came runnin' to me with that box of Onigiri, claimin' she wanted to be friends," Atsumu said, followed by a chuckle. "As if I didn't notice the way she acted around me. I'm telling ya, that girl is in love with me."
"And so, what if she is? That's not an excuse for ya to play with her feelings, dipshit."
Hearing Atsumu huff, you slightly backed away from the door, only to freeze when you heard his next words.
"Y/n is nothin' but a toy to me, somethin' I can dispose of when I got bored."
Biting your lower lip, you clenched the handle of the paperbag you were holding before running out with tears streaming down your face.
You ran as fast as you could, ignoring the worried looks you're getting from the people you were passing by. Even Kita was shocked to see you yet he didn't bother calling out, thinking that you might be needing some alone time for yourself.
You skipped class.
Throughout your whole Highschool life, this was the first time you skipped your class and it was a bummer that the reason was Atsumu Miya.
Stirring your strawberry milkshake from a nearby cafe, you thought about Atsumu's words, another batch of tears streaming down your face as you realized how pathetic you were for believing that he isn't what others say.
Maybe your cousin was wrong.
Atsumu Miya wasn't worth the chance he was given, because he only proved that once a f!ckboy, always a f!ckboy.
-
You blocked Atsumu's social media accounts.
In fact, you even blocked and deleted his number to stop getting in contact with him.
Even in person, you didn't bother paying him any attention unlike before. You stopped coming to their practices, stopped giving him food and stopped talking to him.
You basically acted as if he didn't exist.
It was hard because you knew that your heart belonged to him, but you had to endure it. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction for playing with you. You know your worth and there's no way you're going to let some f*ckboy ruin you.
"Y/n, would ya stop?!" Atsumu said as he grabbed your wrist, effectively stopping you from walking away from him any further.
"Get your hands off me, Miya. I don't wanna talk to you." You struggled against his hold, trying to take your hand back, only to fail when he tightened his grip.
"The hell's yer problem? What's with the sudden attitude? Yer basically ignorin' me and I don't have any idea what I did. Just tell me what I did wrong instead of actin' like a little brat." Letting go of your wrist, Atsumu groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair out of frustration. "I.. I don't like this."
You laughed, eyes squinting as you let out a fit of giggles before pointing at him. "You don't like this? Why not, Miya? I'm just a toy for you, right? So, I don't really get why you don't like this. Is it because you're not bored of me yet so you're not willing to dispose of me?" Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked at him with a serious expression. "Well, I'm sorry to say this but I'm not going to let you hurt me like the others. I'm not a plaything nor am I desperate like those girls pining over you. Have fun looking for a new toy. You're not worth playing with anyway."
That being said, you turned your back on Atsumu, ignoring the whispers that suddenly filled the hallway as the students parted some space for you, leaving Atsumu with his lips parted and feet frozen on the ground.
Serves you right, Miya.
-
Atsumu felt hollow.
With every passing day that you're ignoring him, conversing with people whom you never bothered associating yourself with before, the more he regret taking advantage of your feelings.
It was only supposed to be a game, nothing but a pass time and yet why did it felt like something was missing?
"I wasn't supposed to care," Atsumu said desperately while clutching his head in his hands, elbows propped on the table as he opened up to his twin. "F!ck...I think I like her, 'Samu."
"No shit, idiot," Osamu answered without taking his eyes off the stove. "I told ya several times to stop messin' with people's feelings and did ya ever listen? No. That's what ya get for bein' stupid."
Groaning, Atsumu rested his cheek against the table, facing Osamu's back. "Help me."
Slowing down from stirring the pot, Osamu looked at Atsumu through his shoulder. "Why would I do that?"
"Well, I'm yer twin. Aren't ya supposed to help me? Plus... y/n acts fine around ya." Atsumu sighed before sitting up properly. "I won't bother ya fer a week if ya help me out. I already did everythin' I could. Flowers, chocolates, even payin' attention in class just to impress them! Nothin' worked."
Osamu chuckled at the desperation and frustration in Atsumu's voice. "Deal." He turned the stove off, covering the pot before making his way to Atsumu. Sitting down, he crossed his arms over his chest while staring at the brokenhearted Miya. "Y/n is actually kind. Well, not until that moment she found out about yer stupidity. Have ya tried showin' her that yer willin' to change?"
Atsumu nodded. "I did. I even gave her the usual things girls like."
"I asked if ya showed her that yer willin' to change, not tried winnin' over her through bribery." When Atsumu didn't respond, Osamu let out a 'tsk' before continuing, "Just stop botherin' her and prove that ya regret what ya did."
"Easier said than done," Atsumu grumbled which earned him a smack on the head.
"Will ya stop bein' a sad boy already? I have a plan."
-
Its been two weeks.
Two weeks of no Miya Atsumu trying to apologize. Two weeks of no Miya Atsumu following you like a lost puppy while holding either chocolates or flowers.
Instead, what you were getting were these random post it notes on your locker, your desk, everywhere. Wherever you go, there would be random post it notes with various messages. Some contained cheesy quotations, the others short apology letters.
And despite how mad you were at Atsumu, you wouldn't be able to deny how cute the act was. Not only did he gave you space but also exerted an effort of silently letting you know that he'd be willing to wait for you.
You noticed how he stopped acting like a boss in class, opting to jot down notes instead of chattering with Osamu like usual. You also noticed how he stopped having a random girl beside him during breaks. Everytime you would pass by, no longer would he try to block your way and flick your forehead, but instead give you a hopeful smile before proceeding on his way wordlessly.
But what made you realize that he indeed regret what he did was that one time.
You were walking back to your classroom after forgetting your umbrella. The sound of the heavy rain tapping on the ground resonated on the empty hallways, the cold wind making you shiver as it whooshed in the air.
Wrapping your arms tightly around you, you entered your classroom, eyes widening as you saw Atsumu trying to fit something on the space below your desk while mumbling something.
Clearing your throat, you noticed Atsumu jolting up slightly before turning around to face your direction.
He smiled sheepily before scratching his nape. "I know it's yer birthday tomorrow so I was tryin' to fit this here. I guess there's no point hidin' it already since ya caught me anyway." Sighing, Atsumu picked up the fox stuffie and handed it to you. "Happy Birthday, y/n. I know yer still mad at me and ya probably hate me but I still wanted to give ya a present."
You stared at the fox in your hand, your fingers poking the fluffiness of the material as you fought back the urge to smile. "Thanks," you answered with a dismissive tone.
For a split second, it was silent, and you were aware of the intensity of Atsumu's gaze burning on your forehead, yet you refused to look up, knowing that once you did, you won't be able to hold yourself back and might just forgive him there and then.
"I like ya, I really do. I know I messed up big time fer taking advantage of ya and I'm sorry fer that. It was stupid and childish of me to think that the people around me are nothing but mere toys fer me to play with. I regret hurtin' yer feelings and I'll be willin' to wait until ya forgive me. Just know that I won't stop until ya do."
Hearing something rustling, you looked up and noticed Atsumu taking off his jacket. Within a few steps, he was already infront of you, draping his jacket over your figure. "I'll see ya around, princess. Don't get sick, alright?" Smiling, Atsumu gave your cheek a small pinch before heading out.
You were left in the empty classroom with nothing but the fox stuffie serving as your company. Atsumu's scent was swirling around you from the jacket you were given and at that moment, you haven't notice the single tear sliding down your cheek.
Because of all people, you never expected for Atsumu Miya to be the first one to greet you without having to remind them.
He was the first person you knew outside of your household to ever remember your birthday.
You hugged the stuffie close to your chest, burrying your face on top of its head as you let the comfort it brings envelope you.
-
You stared at the empty space infront, your head swirling as you thought of the possible reasons why Atsumu haven't been in class for three days now.
It's currently your last subject and throughout the whole day, you've been doing nothing but wonder where he was. You haven't asked Osamu about it yet since he was excused from the class due to the preparations for the upcoming match.
And so, the moment your class was dismissed, you rushed your way out, making your trip to the gym. You were thankful that they were in the middle of a water break so you had the chance to call out Osamu's name without having to worry about Kita.
"Y/n?" Osamu's eyebrow shot up upon seeing you. Suddenly, a knowing smile made its way to his lips. Standing up, he walked over to you. "He's sick," he said without even waiting for you to say something.
"Oh.." you muttered, shifting from one foot to another nervously before tugging at the hem of Osamu's jersey. "Do you... uhm, do you think it would be alright if I visit him after your practice? I wanna see if he's doin' alright."
"Alright. I think 'Tsumu would appreciate that. Why don't ya sit on the bench and wait a little for us to finish practice then ya can visit our house after?"
Upon hearing that, your face instantly lit up. You smiled at Osamu as you nodded.
Osamu only chuckled at you and fondly ruffled your hair, a habit he and Atsumu shared.
You waited patiently, and it wasn't long then when their practice finally finished. After Osamu took a shower, you both went on your way to their residence.
As you entered their house, Atsumu's voice immediately met your ears.
"'Samu! Cook me somethin', I'm starvin!"
You looked at Osamu who only shrugged as if he was already used to it. You took your shoes off and wore the slippers you were given before placing your bag on the couch.
"Our room is on the right. Go ahead and talk to him." Osamu said as he pointed on the door at the end of the hallway.
With a nod, you slowly made your way to their room, knocking softly before sliding your way in.
The first thing that greeted you were the mess of opened junk foods on the floor. Roaming your eyes around, you grimaced at the sight of empty water bottles littered around along with the volleyball laying on the ground.
Averting your eyes away from the trash, you looked at Atsumu whose back was facing you, his shoulder raising up and down evenly, indicating that he must be asleep.
Carefully, you walked claser and sat on the edge of his bed, your hand immediately feeling his forehead. "You're burning up," you mumbled, brushing his hair away from his face.
Suddenly, Atsumu's hand gripped your wrist, his eyebrows furrowed as he squinted his eyes. "Am I dreamin' or are ya a ghost?" he asked with a raspy voice.
"I'm not a ghost, 'Tsumu. I'm really here."
You watched as Atsumu slowly nodded before letting go of your wrist. "What're ya doin' here? I thought ya were still mad at me." Sitting up, Atsumu held the comforter close to him as he shivered.
"I heard you were sick. I'm no longer mad at you. I guess I'm still upset but I just can't hold a grudge against you forever, can I? That's not something I can do," you said with a shake of your head. "I really like you, you know? Despite your title of being a f!ckboy, I still fell for you. You were the first person I tried opening up to aside from my cousin. It's just a bummer that you ended up taking advantage of that vulnerability."
You felt Atsumu reaching out for you, his hand enveloping yours as he gave it a small squeeze. "I know, and I'm sorry. I really am."
"And if I give you another chance, will you prove me that you deserve it?" you asked as you looked at him, "I'm still hurt about what happened so I hope that if I give you this chance, you won't waste it."
"Yes. God, yes," Atsumu answered breathlessly, "I promise it won't happen again and I'll try to be better."
Suddenly, Atsumu wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you on his lap as he settled his head on the side of your neck. "Thank you," he mumbled repeatedly against your skin, his arms tightening around you as if he was afraid of letting go.
And he never did.
Indeed, there was something about Miya Atsumu that kept drawing you in, and despite the bumps and dangers that came along your way, you didn't withraw.
Because as you closed the last page of your photo album eight years from then, you realized how right your cousin was alll along.
Atsumu Miya was worth the chance he was given, and he proved it to you every single day, sealing it with the diamond ring now resting on your left hand.
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eloquent-vowel · 3 years
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I have had a few bucky x read fic ideas bouncing around in my head and i cant write! So here is one,
Sam find a person who stairs and doesnt talk a whole lot because they uses ✨telepathy ✨. So Sam think they would be a good fit for Bucky, but he doesn’t know they have that power he just thinks they are mute. Then there is a thing where the reader is telling Buck how it works and they if they have something to connect them together like an object *reader motions to dog tags* they can have an unbreakable mind link. Then they fall in love or something. This is dumb, thank you for coming to my TedTalk
Hey! Thank you so much for this request, it wasn't dumb at all. I really enjoyed writing this. I may have gotten a bit carried away, this may sit close to 4000 words but we vibe. I hope this is what you had in mind! Please enjoy! <3
Click here for my masterlist of other fics and check in my bio for requests if anyone wishes to ask!
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Bucky had been enjoying a moments peace, he loved working with Sam but sometimes all he wanted was to put his feet up, put on some vinyl and enjoy a good cup of coffee all while reading a brilliant book. He had been trying to get into Game of Thrones lately, on Sam’s insistence, and he had been enjoying it. With the crackles of Glenn Miller from the turntable he missed the clunky footsteps coming up the stairs.
The sight that greeted Sam needed to be photographed. Bucky was lounging back on his ‘old man armchair’ feet up, hair in a towel, in a bathrobe, coffee in hand and facemask on, this was definitely one for the family album.
At the sound of the phone shutter Bucky practically launched himself out of the chair.
“Oh, you are never gonna live this one down old boy, it’s going to haunt you.” Sam almost cackled evilly as he began to email the photo to himself- he had learnt the hard way that Bucky was very proficient at breaking phones.
“You better not upload that photo anywhere, Wilson, I have a reputation to uphold.”
“Pfft, reputation, that’s funny.”
Bucky scoffed as he stood up, placing his book carefully on the side table, “Big scary super soldier, people hardly run-in fear from a guy in a bathrobe.”
“I disagree, a man in a bathrobe is definitely something you should run from. AH NOPE!” Sam jumped backwards, on top of a nearby chair, as Bucky lunged for the phone, towel turban falling off in the process. “You are not breaking this phone as well.”
“Fine. But you gotta promise not to post that anywhere.” Bucky huffed.
“I won’t.”
“Good.”
“As long as- “
“Oh no, I’m not doing anything for you.”
“Think of it as payment for the last phone you broke and insurance for this picture.”
There was silence for a moment as the two friends eyed each other up. Sam raised his eyebrows, Bucky’s eyes narrowed. It was an intense staring match between a guy in a bathrobe and a precariously balanced man. A clock ticked.
“Fine.” Bucky conceded. “What do you want?”
“For you to come to a meeting.”
“The families of Veterans ones?”
“Yeah.” Sam slowly started climbing down from the chair. “And before you get your old man pants in a twist, I’m not trying to force you to talk or anything, kinda.”
“Kinda?” Suspicion laced through Bucky’s voice.
“You know sign language, right?”
“Which kind?”
“American? I think?”
“Yeah, I know ASL, might be a bit rusty but I’m sure it still holds up. Why do you ask?”
Sam shifted slightly on his feet, “There’s this person, they come in every week and listen. I tried to talk to them, but they communicate through sign language, and I don’t have anyone there to talk with them.” He cast his eyes to the floor, “I feel bad. They were brave enough to come to the group only to basically be ignored ‘because we didn’t plan well enough.”
Bucky smiled, face mask crinkling around his smile lines, “You could have just asked me to Sam. You didn’t have to blackmail me into this, of course I’ll help. When’s the next meeting?”
“This evening. You gonna be ready or do you need some more ‘me’ time.”
Bucky simply chuckled at Sam’s teasing tone, patted his shoulder making sure to squeeze just a bit too hard before retreating to his room.
“I’ll be there, Wilson, and I will look so much younger than you!”
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It was frustrating to you, going along to these meetings and not being able to communicate. You could always speak into someone’s mind but all that usually accomplished was a very paranoid person. But just listening to other’s stories really helped the grief from losing someone so close to you. You related to most of the people there and even though they didn’t understand you a lot of the time, you were always made to feel welcome- with friendly pats on the back and the odd tissue thrown your way.
You bustled into the familiar building with a new sense of excitement as Sam had promised to bring a translator for you this week. It was finally time to say your thanks to some of the people there and finally let the group know about your brother, so that it wasn’t only you that remembered him.
You all but ran through the hallways until you caught sight of a familiar smiling man. Sam was facing you, talking animatedly to another man, the strangers back was to you. He was tall, broad shouldered and dressed in a vintage looking leather jacket and rather well fitted trousers. Now the debate was: does the tailoring make the ass, or does the ass make the tailoring. You were halfway through the arguments on either side when Sam shouting your name disrupted the intense debating in your mind. You blushed at being caught, then blushed some more when you caught sight of the stranger’s face. Twinkling blue eyes under a deep-set brow should have made him intimidating, but he was smiling, and his face was dazzling. There was an immediate fluttering in your stomach.
“Hey, I’m Bucky.” Dear lord even his voice was nice, what made you smile even more was the fact that he signed as he spoke. Well, Sam certainly knew how to pick them well. “Sam introduced me; said you wanted an interpreter.”
You nodded as you signed back, “Nice to meet you, thank you for helping out.”
“No problem, Sam has told me a bit about you.”
“Good things I hope.”
“Okay I recognise my own name, you two better not be conspiring against me.” Sam piped up, to be honest you had forgotten about him for a moment.
Bucky laughed, and it sent a little thrill down you, he really was adorable.
“No worries, Wilson, just letting them know all your dirty little secrets.”
“Right, you two get in there, before you make me sleep with one eye open.”
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You and Bucky caught each other’s eye, his eyes were twinkling with mischief, and you couldn’t help the smile that overtook you. You had a feeling that the two of you would get on just fine.
The meeting passed easily. Bucky translated your signs and you finally felt like you could actually take part in these meetings. Everyone listened intently when you spoke of your brother and when you had thanked the whole group for being so open to you a couple of people shed a tear. By the end of the meeting though you were tired and very accepting of Bucky’s offer to walk you home.
It was a lot of side glances and hidden smiles and you walked side by side. Drawn to each other under the moonlit sky, it was nice to just be in the presence of someone who had such a kind aura. You spent the walk trying to work up the confidence to sign something, anything but nothing came to mind and Bucky seemed quite content to just walk in comfortable silence.
You soon reached your home, you turned to Bucky with a smile on your face and signed,
“Thanks for today, Bucky. You were really helpful.”
“No problem.” He signed back,
You hesitated slightly before signing, “Would you be happy to have a coffee with me, tomorrow?”
Bucky went a little red in the face, and chuckled, “I would love to, I know a nice place, real cosy. I’ll text you the details.”
“You know how to text?”
“Hey! I get enough stick from Sam, don’t need you getting on my case too. I’ll have you know that I am very adaptable.”
“Sure, Sure.” You smiled at his flustered tone. “I’ll wait for your text then, have a good evening.”
“You too.”
The two of you stared slightly awkwardly at each other, neither wanting to be the first to turn around. You shuffled your feet away slowing, smiling awkwardly once more at Bucky before turning. You heard his footsteps start to fade away as you walked towards your home. You were but three steps to the door when a large figure in a hoodie slammed into you, you raised your arms instinctively to block them when you noticed your shoulder was lighter. The bastard had stolen your bag.
You immediately took chase, chasing around the corner you just walked down but they were fast, faster then you at least. As you rounded the corner you caught sight of Bucky walking ahead. The thief wouldn’t stand a change against him. Without a second thought you cast your thoughts towards Bucky,
“Bucky! Thief! My Bag! Behind you!”
You saw Bucky flinch slightly then turn bewildered, his eyes widening when he saw you hurting towards him, chasing the hooded figure. He caught on and launched after the thief as well, with barely any effort he knocked the thief to the ground, grabbed your bag and whipped out his phone to call the cops.
Well, that was hot.
You took your bag back, immediately checking that you brother’s lucky coin was in the zippy pocket, to your relief it was still there. You looked up to see Bucky staring at you with a very puzzled look on his face. You sighed before casting your thoughts to his head once more,
“I’ll explain later.”
Bucky let out a strange, decompressed noise of shock, it made you giggle. The two of you waited in silence until the police came and took the thief away. The police car had barely driven away when he turned to you.
“Did you just, talk in my head? Or did my conscious just suddenly get really loud.”
“I did. Hi. Sorry about that.”
He waved his hands dismissively. “Believe it or not, not the weirdest thing I’ve encountered.”
“Well, that’s reassuring.”
There was an awkward silence.
“So,” You started, resorting back to sign language, it felt less invasive, “Still down for coffee?”
Bucky smiled, “One hundred percent. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Bye Bucky. Thanks for getting my bag back.”
“No problem, see ya.”
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The coffee shop that Bucky invited you to, was tucked away, it was the kind of place that you would stumble over on accident. With a simple door and a big window out the front, that lead soft orange light filter out onto the alley. There was the faint sound of jazz leaking out of the building, you smirked. It was such an old fashioned place, of course this was where Bucky frequented.
The bell tinkled slightly as you entered the café, where you were greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods. You caught sight of Bucky’s broad shoulders sitting in the corner, and you made your way over to him, smiling at the barista as you passed.
As if sensing you, Bucky turned to smile and wave. He was dressed in casual clothes like last time, but this time his hair was loose around his shoulders. You smiled back before settling into the seat opposite him.
His hands moved hesitantly as he signed, “What would you like? I can recommend their hot chocolate, its very warming/”
“Hot chocolate it is.”
You could tell he wanted to ask you a million questions but to his credit he walked slowly to get the drinks, he even took his time carefully carrying the tray of drinks back to your table. He placed a delicious looking hot chocolate in front of you. You watched as he took a sip.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1-
“So,” Here we go, “What is it you can do, you can speak in peoples’ heads, can you,” He lowered his voice and leaned in, “Can you read people’s minds?”
You giggled slightly, his eyes were basically sparkling, he was definitely nerding out about this.
You set the hot chocolate down before casting your thoughts to his head, “I can speak in peoples heads relatively easily, it’s how I talk most of the time to people I know. I guess you could call it Telepathy.”
Bucky’s eyes were as wide as saucers, “So you can’t read thoughts, only… speak them?”
“I like to call it casting, makes me feel like a sorcerer. I can read thoughts, but it takes a lot of energy. I used to be able to talk with my brother from across the house. That usually requires some kind of connection.”
“Oh, so like a blood or family connection? Do you have to know the person very well?”
“That certainly helps but it’s not always necessary. If I have a personal object that belongs to that person, something I can hold and connect to them it isn’t hard to make a two-way connection. Especially if that person is willing to open their mind.”
Bucky seemed to be caught in thought for a second. “So, if I were to give you something of mine, we could both talk in our… heads?”
“Well yes, but Bucky we have only just met. Letting me into your head is a lot. I try not to pry but sometimes I’ve found that thoughts just burst through. Let’s get to know each other a before that happens.”
Bucky smiled at you before speaking and signing, “You’re right. Let’s get to know one another. I find you fascinating.”
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It happened on the fifth date. Bucky was just walking you home after a lovely dinner at a small Italian that he claimed he went to back in the 40s. Just outside your door, under the glow of a lamppost he turned to you and took a deep breath before speaking.
“I know this may be a lot, but I wanted to give you these.” He reached around his neck and pulled off something silver. You gasped slightly as he held out his dog tags, immaculately preserved after all these years.
“Are you sure, Bucky? This is a lot.”
“I know and if you aren’t comfortable with it then just let me know but I want to give them to you.”
“You know what this means Bucky?”
“Yeah, I know, I just figured that you’re already in my head all the time anyways, just can’t seem to get you out of it.”
“You cheeseball.” You smirked at him before taking the dog tags and placing them around your neck. You gripped the cold metal for a moment, concentrating on the man in front of you. Taking everything, you knew about him and stretching out a connection, like a hand reaching out to clasp another.
“Testing, Testing, Testing, one two, one two, can my Telepathic partner hear me?”
You laughed, “Yes I can Bucky, you big dork.”
Bucky whooped out loud before sweeping you up in a big hug. The two of you laughing under the lamp light. His joy was infectious, and you couldn’t fight the smile off your face.
“Oh, we are going to have so much fun messing with Sam.”
“You’re evil.”
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Of course, the two of you made a pact not to tell Sam until he worked it out, which wouldn’t be anytime soon according to Bucky. It led to some very memorable moments and Sam refusing to play any form of card or board game with either of you because you always managed to win, somehow. Not to mention all the times you had spoken in eery unison around him.
“I swear, its like you two can read each other’s minds sometimes.” Sam threw his hands up in frustration at another lost game of charades.
You smirked at Bucky across the room, “Should you tell him, or shall I?”
“I think he’s been through enough, I got it.”
Bucky cleared his throat, “We can.”
Sam whipped around to face Bucky, a look of sheer disbelief on his face, “Seriously Bucky-boy, if you think I believe that after all-
“Hello Sam.” You cast your thoughts to him, in the creepiest old lady voice you could muster.
Sam yelped, before turning accusingly at you, “You better be joking around with me right now, I am not dealing with any kind of ghosts in this house.”
“Sorry! Surprise I’m telepathic!”
“You’re serious.”
You nodded.
Sam put his head in his hands and sighed, “Not the weirdest thing ever. Wait, does this mean you have been cheating this entire time.”
You both looked guiltily at one another.
“You owe me. That poker night, void.”
You both laughed, “We’ll have a fair rematch this time Sam.”
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It had been close to a year since you had made it official with Bucky and you were now much more comfortable around one another. He no longer just dropped you off at the lamppost but cam inside with you. You had spent many lovely mornings together sharing glances over steaming cups of coffee. Fighting each other for who got to spread their legs out on the couch, there wasn’t really a loser though as it usually ended up in sofa cuddles for both of you, while watching a film.
Life was pretty great, you thought, as you smiled down at the sleeping Bucky beside you. Finally reaching over to turn off the lamp and put your book down, you were finally reading the hobbit at Bucky’s insistence. As you clicked off the light beside you and settled down you noticed the faster than usual breathing coming from beside you.
“Bucky?”
You reached out, thinking he was awake but instead as you opened up your connection you caught flashes of night terrors. You were falling indefinitely, snow all around you, and in the distance, there were cries of pain, people pleading for their lives, there was gunfire and explosions. You gasped and took off the dog tags. You only gave yourself a moment to breathe before trying to shake Bucky awake. When it became clear that he wasn’t stirring you steadied yourself and settled your hands on his temples. You didn’t care you tired this would make you, you just wanted Bucky to stop suffering. You focused, offering out that hand of connection again, this time picturing it in the shape of a fist and, although it wasn’t subtle, you tried to shake Bucky’s brain awake. You forced your way into his dreams, punching through the dark fog that clouded his thoughts and almost screamed at him.
“Bucky! Bucky wake up! You’re dreaming my dear!”
Bucky woke up with a start. Tears flowing down his face, he stared at you blue eyes shining. No one spoke as he pulled you into his arms. You just breathed together for a moment, counting the breaths and the spaces in between. When he finally pulled back, you saw his eyes flicker with concern before lifting a hand to gently wipe under your nose, it came back red with blood.
“You, okay?”
You smiled sadly, reaching out to put the dog tags back on.
“I should be asking you that.”
“But you’re bleeding.”
“Occupational hazard.” You tried to subtly get rid of any of the extra blood. “That was pretty intense. Wanna talk?”
Bucky looked down to the sheets and shook his head. You smiled at him, tilting his head to yours.
“That’s fine, want me to go? Or would you like to cuddle for a bit?”
Bucky didn’t talk again, just pulled you gently down to the bed once more. Snuggling himself under your chin, resting his head on your chest. You felt his arms draw tightly against your waist. You pressed your lips into his hair.
“May I help you go to sleep? Keep the bad thoughts at bay for at least one night.”
You felt Bucky nod and let out a little sleepy hum of agreement. You closed your eyes, focused on your connection setting up a golden wall against the dark fog at the corners of his mind and settled into a deep sleep.
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You woke to the smell of fresh coffee and the clinking of cups.
“Morning.” You opened your eyes at Bucky’s voice and took the offered cup greedily. Your mind still felt hazy from the energy you used last night.
You felt the bed dip beside you as Bucky sat and sipped at his cup as well, hair a bit of a mess from bed. He had evidently only just woken up as well.
He took a breath, “I had some pretty interesting dreams, sweetheart.”
You stiffened, “Good ones I hope.”
“Don’t worry, they were good. If a little strange.”
“Strange?”
“I was watching myself most of the time.”
You snorted into the coffee, “Sounds creepy”
There was a slight chuckle, “Nah, I was watching myself build a home, a family- “
“Oh God Bucky.” You snapped your eyes to his, you knew what had happened. “I am so sorry my dreams must have stuck in your head.”
“Those were your dreams?”
“Yeah, its only happened once before but when the connection between two people is very strong, it can happen- I call it bleeding. Perhaps we should- “
“If the next words out of your mouth are take a break, I will spill your coffee.” You clutched your cup closer to your chest, “Truthfully, those were some of the beset dreams I have every had. I really loved them.”
You looked back up at him, hesitantly “You did?”
“And I love you.”
“Huh
There was silence as you stared at him in shock. His face as nothing but adoration as the sunlight filtered over his face.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too.”
Coffee cups were cast aside as you both collided. Giggling and joking, radiating happiness as the two of you shared the sweetest kiss. Your feelings merging together, amplifying one another until they shone brighter than the sun.
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Karasuno boys when you wander away
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Characters: Tsukishima Kei, Dachi Sawamura, Asahi Azumane, & Kageyama Tobio, all with a Fem!Reader
Warnings: probably some swearing but nothing besides that :) 
A/N: So this is somewhat based on my IRL relationship haha. I’m very bad with just walking away or getting distracted by something and always worry my partner xD thought it would make for some cute headcanons! Let me know if you’d like more!
Haikyuu Masterlist
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Tsukishima had only looked away for a moment. He walked towards a fresh fruit stand, glancing at the peaches and wondering if you wanted one to snack on on the way home. He glanced back and his lips parted to ask you, but you were no where to be seen.
His lips turned into a frown, trying not to give into that small moment of panic as his eyes scanned the outside market. You were no where to be found nearby. His heart pulsed harder against his chest as his mind reminded him of that news story of girls going missing in public places. Tsukishima pushed through people, giving half-assed apologies as he thought about you being dragged away and no one noticing. How had he not noticed? How would he find you? What should he do now?
His heart raced as he continued to look for you, giving out a small yelp when he felt someone grab his hand.
“Tsukki?” You were suddenly next to him, smiling innocently up at him. “Are you okay?”
The rush of relief that came with seeing you next to him was followed with frustration. “Idiot! Where did you wander off to?” He scolded, his hand tightening on yours.
“There was a puppy,” you admitted with slight embarrassment, smiling shyly. “I just gave him a couple of pats - he looked so lonely. Everyone was ignoring him,” you explained, nodding towards an older man who was dozing off on a bench. He had a leash in his hand and a large dog sat next to his feet, eagerly watching people was if begging for someone to pet him.
Tsukishima shook his head in disbelief, “You scared me for a dog? Moron,” he grumbled, pulling you further into the market. He didn’t want to be in such a big crowd right now.
You giggled, trying not to note the redness in his ears, “Aw I’m sorry Tsukki, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You tugged on his arm gently, trying to give him an apologetic smile but he kept looking away from you.
“Whatever, get yourself lost for all I care,” he pouted slightly and you tried your best not to laugh at how such a tall boy could act like a 4 year old.
“I’ll stay with you, promise. Won’t ever leave your side!” you insisted, clutching his arm and beaming up at him.
Tsukishima glanced at your smile, noticing it looked... almost playful? “What?” He raised an eyebrow, already knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“You care about me,” you teased, reaching up to poke his nose playfully. “You were worried about me because you careeee about me.” You had expected him to pull his arm away, stomp off until you apologized for making fun of him.
But instead he just rolled his eyes, flicking your forehead gently, “Maybe just a bit.”
That surprised you just a little, your heart skipping a beat or two in response, “I am sorry, Tsukki, I didn’t think I went off that far. It just got really crowded,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand gently. “But lucky for me! You’re so tall so it’s easy to find you!”
Tsukishima scoffed some more but blushed anyways, feeling now like he had overreacted, “Whatever. You’re buying me a snack to make it up to me, idiot.”
“Mmkay!” You beamed, the two of you roaming the market together. Tsukishima pretended like he had completely forgotten the whole thing, but you noticed that he never let go of your hand that easily after that. And he always kept you close in crowded areas.
So yeah, maybe Tsukishima Kei really did care for you.
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Daichi is a calm cool collected dude. Calm. Cool. Collected. It was as if he was chanting these words in his brain, eyes frantically trying to find you. CALM COOL COLLECTED, he desperately tried to remind himself. Everything is FINE.
But that still didn’t answer the question: where the hell could you have gone off to?
It was one of the first big matches that Daichi ever invited you too and the crowds were 10x bigger than anything you’ve been to. Daichi’s whole body trembled with the idea that you were completely lost and waiting for him to find you.
“I’m sure she’s alright, Daichi! Y/N’s probably just exploring,” Asahi clapped a hand onto his friend’s shoulder, though Daichi could tell he was nervous too.
“Stop being such worry-bums,” Suga insisted, smacking both of their arms. “Y/N can be as scary as the rest of us! No one would pick on her!”
You were fully capable of dealing with things yourself, Daichi knew this. But he felt a surge of protective energy anytime he felt you needed him. “I’ll be right back,” he mumbled to his friends, his feet quickly running around the gyms to try and catch a glimpse of you.
“Daichi!” Your voice made his eyes widen, darting around to try to find you. Suddenly, he was attacked with a full on jump hug, staggering backwards to keep them upright.
“Y-Y/N! Where’ve you been?” Daichi asked with a laugh, holding you tightly and trying to avoid showing you how nervous he was.
“Coach Ukai told me Hinata left his shoes in the bus so I went to grab it before the game! Shimizu-san and Yachi were both busy so I wanted to help!” You explained, smiling up at him while holding the little bag up for him to see. Your eyes flickered over Daichi’s for a moment, noting the slight blush on his cheeks and the way he couldn’t fully meet your gaze. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, your lips turning into a little smirk, “Were you worried about me, Daichi?” You teased and laughed as his face turned even more red.
“Well I can’t win without my lucky charm on the stands,” he chuckled, ruffling your hair.
“Oh and I just thought you liked me,” Y/N shot back with a laugh. “Didn’t know it was just cause of your game.”
You turned on your heel, starting to walk back to the gym, Daichi following while stammering out a, “I-I do liked you!” He tried to laugh off his nerves, rubbing the back of his neck as he gave you a smile, “Don’t make me all nervous before a game, love!”
You two shared some more laughs as everyone warmed up, and just before you headed to the stands, you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Daichi tried to play it off cool but he was wobbly the whole walk towards the team and the group of boys just laughed, all slapping his back in pride. 
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Unlike the Cap’n, Asahi is not calm, cool, or collected. I mean I think he’s cool but not in this sense LOL.
Asahi and you decided to have a picnic for lunch in a nearby park. But while he was setting up, you magically disappeared and Asahi felt all of his panic just intensify.
Did you? Leave him? To be on his own? Was this your way of breaking up with him?
No, Asahi tried to convince himself, you loved him. You guys had been together for almost a year now, that’s not how you’d end thins... is it?
Maybe you got lost? Did Asahi walk a little too fast to this spot? He knew sometimes you had a hard time keeping up with his long legs but he thought you had been holding his hand this whole time.
His eyes scanned the somewhat busy park. He couldn’t find you anywhere. His heart was starting to beat way too fast and his fingers were shaking while he tried to text the other third years to ask what the hell he should do.
Suga: LOL knowing Y/N she probably saw some cute chipmunk or something and stopped to take a photo of it
Daichi: don’t worry, Asahi, she’ll probably find you soon - you’re this gigantic dude in a park. I doubt she’d lose you
That didn’t help. Now Asahi was noticing how parents and kids were specifically avoiding him. His bottom lip pouted as he wondered just what he could do to seem less intimidating. Should he sit down? No, what if you were trying to see him? Sitting would only make it harder!
Just as he was considering climbing up the nearby tree to see the park from a higher distance, you popped out from some nearby bushes, holding a few wildflowers.
“Asahi?” You blinked in surprise, finding him trying to find a foothold on the tree. “Are we... eating in the tree?”
“Y/N!” The poor boy almost knocked his head on the tree when he turned around to see you, eyes widening. He immediately ran over to you and twirled you around in a hug, “God, you scared me!” 
You quickly apologized profusely seeing how nervous he was, “I’m sorry, Asahi! I saw some pretty flowers over there and thought maybe it would be nice to decorate our tablecloth with!” You kiss his nose and cheeks over and over again trying to get him to calm down (but really that’s just making him more flustered).
The two of you share a gorgeous meal together, and you spend the rest of the day with his head in your lap and you braiding his hair, intertwining some of the flowers you found. The two of you talked about everything and anything and Asahi made sure from that day forward, he could always spot you. Any time you guys weren’t holding hands or standing next to each other, everyone noticed that Asahi’s eyes would dart over to you every now and then, whether consciously or unconsciously. 
When he got home that night, he pressed the flowers you put in his hair in a book and kept them as a keepsake. And then gave them to you in a gift for your anniversary later.
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Kageyama would start feeling panic and wouldn’t even know why. The game was starting soon and something just didn’t feel right. His muscles? No… he felt in tiptop shape. He stretched a little extra today too to make sure he wasn’t feeling stiff. His stomach? No, he made sure to have some food and milk a little earlier. And he wasn’t feeling nauseous so it couldn’t be that. His hands? No, they felt perfect in fact. He was so excited for this game earlier, he had felt the anticipation running to his fingers to just set the perfect ball. So why was he feeling so uncomfortable?
His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think about what was making him feel different. His eyes scanned the crowd unconsciously before realizing what it was.
You weren’t standing up there with the rest of the Karasuno fans.
Where the hell were you?
His feet moved towards the gym doors before Ukai yelled at him, “Where the hell do you think you’re going, Kageyama? The game is staring soon!”
Kageyama’s eyes widened, noting the whole team watching him curiously. Why did Kageyama seem so nervous? He never seemed nervous.
“Don’t worry, Kageyama, with my spikes better than ever, we’re definitely going to win!” Hinata grinned, trying to lighten the tense air in the team.
“I’m not worried, just don’t be stupid on the court,” Kageyama replied, shrugging it off. But his eyes still scanned the stands. Where were you? You had said hello to the whole and wished Kageyama luck just a few minutes ago? So how come you weren’t standing up there with Coach’s friends and Yachi?
The whistle blew to indicate the game starting and Kageyama felt his stomach turn. Why was he feeling like this? You were probably fine so what did it matter?
You had been buying some milk from the nearby vending machines to make sure that Kageyama had some after his game. You knew that he had accidentally finished all the ones he had packed earlier and had been kinda crabby about it so you thought maybe it would cheer him up. You had stood in line for the vending machine for what felt like forever but it was all worth it knowing that you could throw the milk boxes into your lunch bag to keep them cool. Knowing Kageyama would be excited about it made you really happy.
As you walked back towards the gym, you could hear cheering. Your eyes widened as you realized that the game had already started and you ran towards the stands.
“Y/N! There you are!” Yachi’s smile looked oddly nervous. Not that she wasn’t normally nervous at these games, but this one seemed different. “I think something’s wrong with Kageyama.”
Your eyes shot down to the court, seeing how stiff Kageyama looked next to everyone else. They were patting him on the back, yelling “We’ll get the next one!” and Noya screaming, “BRING IT ON!”
“He was looking for you in the stands earlier I think,” Yachi told you with a small giggle, “He looked really nervous when he couldn’t see you.”
Your heart swelled slightly, wondering if Kageyama was off his game because he hadn’t been able to see you. “Kageyama!!” You yelled from the stands, cupping your hands around your mouth. The dark haired boy’s head shot up to look at you, a sense of relief growing on his face. “You can do it!!” You screamed some more, the people on the stands behind you yelling in support.
Even from far away, you could see his lips turn upward in a smile.
Alright, you both thought to yourself. Now we can get started.
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favoniuscodex · 3 years
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detention. [tartaglia x reader]
prompt: high school delinquent tartaglia w/ student council president reader pairing: childe/tartaglia x f!reader word count: 2.1k warnings: mentions of sexual harassment, (very little) blood, childe enjoying fighting other people like always, but overall very lighthearted! a/n: bye i got carried away with this one, this is certainly not a short scenario lol. part of my 900 follower event!
“you’re in here?” an all-too-familiar voice says incredulously, causing you to cringe. you look up from the homework in front of you and make eye contact with the incredibly smug ginger-haired boy who leans in the entrance of the classroom, ocean-blue eyes twinkling with amusement.
“it’s no surprise that you would be here,” you retort, before going back to your schoolwork. you furrow your eyebrows as you hear his footsteps approach you and bite back a sigh as he chooses the seat directly next to you. he drags the chair out from underneath his chosen desk noisily across the linoleum floor and you take a deep breath as you hear its metal legs groan against the dilapidated flooring.
“so,” the boy persists, sitting down in his chair backwards and leaning forward on the backrest, looking over at you. “how’d the princess end up in detention?”
“shouldn’t you be using this time to do homework?” you deflect and he genuinely laughs, as if the thought was preposterous for you to suggest.
“sorry, sweetheart, i don’t exactly have…” he pauses, before turning the worksheet underneath your palms towards him and sliding it to the edge of your desk. “what the hell even is this? this is definitely some alien language.”
“it’s multivariable calculus,” you explain and look over at him with a stoic expression, only to see his eyes widen and a smirk form on his face.
“you know how to do that shit?” he breathes in awe, folding his arms on the backrest of the chair. he lets out a huff of amusement as you grumpily move the paper back to its original position. “that’s kind of hot.”
you rip your gaze from him and stare at the paper in front of you, doing your best to ignore his comments. your eyes instinctively widen a bit in shock and you feel heat rise to your face and childe lets out a soft laugh in response.
“ajax,” you begin in an attempt to collect yourself. “some of us actually desire to pass our classes.” your voice is level as you brush off his flirtations, but you feel your heart beating wildly. the boy, childe, knew how to flirt with you just as well as he knew how to annoy you.
“ah, princess,” the boy chuckles, his voice dropping low with condescension. “it’s tartaglia. you’re asking for trouble when you call me that~.” he’s amused at your words, leaning in closer to you.
“i’m not calling you by your dumb soundcloud rapper name,” you insist as you attempt to focus on finding the surface area of some hyperboloid given by the equation on the worksheet before you. the noise of your mechanical pencil scratching at the paper in front of you fills the air between the two of you as childe stares at you in shock, before letting out a sharp laugh.
“you’re adorable,” he confesses, but you simply huff in displeasure and lean in closer to your worksheet, trying to block him out. “for real though, how’d such an insouciant girl like you end up in here?”
you choose to ignore him, before you process his words and look at him in confusion. “w... what do you think insouciant means?” you almost sound aghast at his words and childe shrugs in response.
“hm,” he responds, as if he’s actually pondering, before a smile returns to his face. “don’t know, don’t care~. guess i used it wrong, huh?”
“yes.” you respond, but before you can continue your work, ajax reaches over and snatches the mechanical pencil out of your hand.
“answer the question and i’ll leave you alone,” he says, holding the pencil out of your reach as you fruitlessly try to grab it back.
“fine,” you respond bitterly. “i punched someone in the face.”
you glance at him and watch his eyes widen, a grin spreading over his face.
“holy shit, that’s so hot. i never thought you’d do something like that. jeez.” his face flushes with excitement as he leans forward, unceremoniously dropping the pencil in front of him. his words are excited and you suddenly wish you had lied and told him you were late to class. “so, like, did they ask you one too many times for homework answers? were you stopping them from trying to take your president seat? did they beat your score on the last chem test? there’s so many possibilities…”
he sighs almost dreamily. you grab your freshly retrieved pencil far too tightly in irritation and return to the paper before you. “no,” you respond, your voice uncharacteristically sharper than the usual tone of distaste you held towards childe. his smile suddenly drops, noticing that the air between the two of you had turned from slight irritation to full, seething anger. his eyebrows furrow in concern.
“princess,” he says lowly, words cautious. “why’d you punch someone?” his words are authoritative, but you knew that if you said you didn’t want to talk about it, he’d find a way to drop the topic. plus, he’d probably find out eventually. the event had happened in a busy hallway after all and you were the refined student council president who had never broken a rule before in her life.
you let out a sigh of defeat, closing your eyes briefly, before turning in your chair to face ajax. his cerulean irises pierce into yours with a seriousness you had never seen before and you decide that maybe, despite all of the ways he annoys you and makes your heart beat faster, you can trust him. after all, he’s always kept all of his promises to you, throughout all the times he’s stopped to pester you whenever he saw you, whether it be in the hallway, in class, or outside of school.
“okay,” you begin, letting out a nervous huff of air, running your palms across your thighs in a comforting motion. “i... punched a guy who… wouldn’t take no for an answer. he crossed a few boundaries and… got a fist to the face because of it.”
your friends had always complained about how childe was bad news, constantly running into trouble with others and winding up in detention half the time because of it. if you had counted correctly, he had been suspended twice for reasons you hadn’t bothered to ask about, because in your eyes, the boy was no more than a harmless pest, always smiling, cheerful, and persistent in trying to flirt with you and in trying to become your friend. despite your half hearted attempts to shoo him away, ajax would always bounce back and increase his flirtations, never failing to make your heart beat faster.
but now, as you watched his fists clench on his thighs, his knuckles turning white and his fingernails digging sharply into his skin, you realize that the ajax you had experienced was a far cry from what most people experienced. his expression looks murderous and you realize that maybe he had actually earned the fearsome nickname of tartaglia. you suddenly appreciate the fact that you weren’t on the delinquent’s bad side, because the rage that swirls in his baby blues makes your blood run cold. it also makes your heart beat faster, but not in fear.
you silently question why you were finding tartaglia’s attractive. such a reaction was a massive red flag, but you figured you could probably use it to decorate your walls, splay it across the length of your bed, and stare at it in admiration. you begin to ponder what other decorations you could use in your bedroom, including a six foot tall redhead with the clearest blue eyes you had ever seen, but childe’s words snap you out of your reverie.
“who did it?” his words are steely and foreboding, uttered in a lower tone than you’ve ever heard him speak with. normal people were of the mind that snitches get stitches, but luckily, you were a goody-two-shoes who loved to rat on everyone. you smile giddily, cheeks warm from admiring the rage that churned within the man before you, and part your lips to respond. however, the trill of the end of day bell interrupts the two of you, signaling the beginning of detention.
childe lets out a huff of contempt and interrupts you before you can once again try to say the words. “yeah, okay, whatever, don’t worry about it. just... work on your homework or something.” he says dismissively and you’re briefly confused until you see him whip out a textbook.
holy shit, he actually goes to class? you wonder, before seeing him flip open the pages, put the book in his lap, then nestle his cell phone with in the pages in a haphazard attempt to seem like he is studying. you watch briefly as his fingers fly across the touchscreen and his thumbs type out an angry message to some person you couldn’t see the contact name of.
the teacher at the front of the room commands your attention and you pay attention to their words before returning to your homework, only bothering to glance over at him every few minutes. his position remains unchanged for the rest of the detention session, furiously typing nearly the entire time.
when detention ends, he leaves wordlessly. rather than pestering you to accompany him somewhere, he simply slams his textbook shut, tosses it hastily in his backpack, and storms out of the room without making eye contact with you.
---
school begins the next day and you are standing at your locker and grabbing your textbooks when a familiar, chipper voice interrupts you. 
“heya, princess!” he greets, peering around the metal door of your locker. 
“hey,” you respond unamused, before turning to look at him and ask him what he wants, but the sight of the boy causes you to freeze in your tracks. his eye is mottled with purple, yellow, and blue bruises and his bottom lip is busted open. his hair is disheveled and there’s a proud look in his eye as he smiles at you, before wincing at the action as his lip begins to bleed once more.
“what happened to you?” you ask incredulously before turning to rifle through your backpack for a tissue to give to ajax.
“ah,” childe responds in a mischievous tone. “let’s just say you won’t have to worry about a certain problem anymore.”
“you’re still here,” you instinctively respond as your fingers finally grasp the packet of tissues in your backpack. upon actually digesting his words, you nearly drop the tissues before hastily pulling one out of the packet and holding it out to him. “wait, what? did you fight him?” you stare at him with eyes blown wide open and he smugly smiles at you in response before cheekily taking the tissue from your hands and wiping the blood off his chin.
“yep!” his voice is far too cheerful for the situation at hand, but you can’t help but crack a smile at his words. “a knight always has to protect his princess.”
your face flushes with heat and you instinctively look away from him, unsure of what to make of such a bold flirtation. you let out a nervous giggle, taken aback by him being so forward about literally beating the shit out of a guy on your behalf. “you’re insane,” you say, but your happiness can’t help but leak into your words and grins at you, eyes shining with admiration.
“go to dinner with me.” he blurts out confidently, but a faint nervousness hides in his expression. despite his best attempts to seem nonchalant, you see right through it, but such vulnerability in his appearance causes you to respond without hesitation.
“okay.” you respond softly and a shy smile begins to creep over your face as ajax blinks at you in surprise.
“oh... cool,” his words are dazed, as if he hadn’t expected such a response, but his smile only grows wider. “awesome, yeah, cool.” his attempts to play it cool fail, especially as he stumbles a bit when he tries to lean on the door of your locker, only to have it swing out from under his weight.
“a princess always has to thank her knight, after all,” you respond with a soft giggle and childe’s expression softens, a smitten expression crossing his face. the warning bell for first period rings and childe holds out a freshly bandage hand to you.
you place your hand in his and he holds your hand with such a featherlight touch that, if not for the bandages that brush against your skin, you would have doubted that he ever could have hurt anyone. besides, you knew he only would hurt people who were asking for it.
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loveelle · 3 years
Text
Saturday
Luke Patterson x Reader
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Request from Anon: Luke Patterson prompt? Luke (ghost) likes to flirt with reader every chance he gets? Kind of like the scene with Julie/Nick at her lock? He even gets a little jealous?
And Request from Anon: Julie and the boys try to convince her best friend she’s in love with a ghost? Luke Patterson x reader?
A/N: Two requests done in two days??? Who is this girl writing because damn she’s productive for once!??! I’m also sorry that this one is like so abrupt in the ending, I write the same damn endings for every fic and it’s fine, but I’m getting bored with myself, so I’m trying to figure out where to go with the endings, which means... absolutely nothing. lol.
WC: 3.2K
MASTER
---
“Do you think this shirt makes me look good?”
You nearly jump out of your skin and let out a squeak as the sudden appearance of Luke next to you. Offering the people around you an apologetic smile, you hold up your phone and pretend like someone was talking to you. As soon as the attention was off you, you turn back to Luke who was laughing hard and send him a glare. “Must you decide to jump scare me when I’m at school?”
He smirks at you as he leans on the lockers and crosses his arms. “When I get that kind of reaction? Of course, I must.”
You roll your eyes at him. “What did you want?”
“Oh, does this shirt make me look good?” He pulls his shirt out from his body, making you gulp as your eyes flicker down.
“Nope.”
Luke scoffs playfully at you, knowing you were just messing with him. “Haha.” He mocks and you can’t help but smile.
“Why did you need to know? It’s not like anyone could see you besides me and the band.”
“Well, yeah.” He shrugs and the smile on his face only gets bigger. “Always gotta look good in front of a pretty girl.”
You feel your cheeks heat up at Luke’s flirting as you turn back to your locker, lodging your phone which you had been pretending to talk on, between your shoulder and your ear when you pull out the last of your books. “And you went with that shirt?” you joke and watch Luke put a hand on his chest and pretend to be wounded. You laugh softly before you close your locker and start your walk to class with Luke next to you.
“Y/N! Wait up!” A voice calls out from behind you two as you spin around, seeing a kid from your math class jogging to catch up with you. When he finally stops in front of you, you hesitate glancing to Luke only to see his jaw locked as he stares down the boy.
“Gotta go. Bye.” You say into your phone before shoving it into your pocket. “Hey Daniel, what’s up?”
“I was hoping to get to walk you to class.” The smile on his face makes Luke’s jaw clench only more as he looks to you, only to see the smile on your face.
“He wants to walk you to class.” Luke says and you pretend to ignore him, focusing on Daniel.
“You don’t have to do that.” You assure him and Luke forces a smile, turning to square up to Daniel.
“Yeah, you don’t have to do that. I’ll walk her.”
“It’s no trouble, it’s on the way to my class.” You know there wasn’t much of a way to get around this so you suck in a breath and nod. As Daniel moves to walk by your side, you shoot a glance back to see Luke jaw dropped as you walk away with Daniel. You chuckle softly at him and he snaps out of his daze.
“I’m coming with!” He shouts over the sea of kids and sooner than not, Luke was on your other side.
“So, I was wondering,” Daniel begins, turning slightly as he walks to talk to you, “if you were free this Saturday like I am, maybe we could hang out.”
You were taken back by Daniel’s offer. “Uh, Saturday? Like, tomorrow Saturday?” you ask and Daniel nods, hopeful that you’d say yes. You ignore the comment Luke made under his breath as you think about Daniel’s offer. “Uh, I think I might have plans tomorrow.”
Luke furrows his brows and scoffs. “You don’t have plans tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I have plans tomorrow.” You repeat, looking away from Daniel briefly to Luke and scowl at him. You wince, however, when you realize Daniel couldn’t hear Luke refuting your plans.
“Oh.” Daniel frowns. “Maybe Sunday?”
“How about never?” Luke mumbles and you bite your lip, tightening your hold on the books in your arms.
“I’m not sure. I have to check.” Daniel’s face brightens at the possibility of going on a date with you and you feel bad for knowing Sunday would come and go and Daniel wouldn’t be getting that date. “This is my class.” You point briefly to the door that was ajar for students to enter and Daniel moves past you to his own class as he turns around to talk while walking backwards.
“You have my number, right?” He calls out and you nod, pulling your lips into a thin line to at least try and smile. “Cool, uh call me or text me if you’re free!” He points at you and you give him an awkward thumbs up. He smiles at you one last time before running down the hall to his own class.
“She won’t!” Luke calls after him before turning to you smugly. You let out a heavy breath and pull out your phone before resting against the wall and avoiding looking at Luke. “So, what are you doing tomorrow?”
“Luke.” You chastise him, giving him a glare that you quickly drop out of fear there was someone behind him thinking you were glaring at them.
“I’m just asking you know, in case you wanted to drop by Julie’s and watch us practice. You know how much I love seeing you there.” He leans on the wall next to you, meeting your eye as his lips tug up in a smile. “That is, unless you did already have plans?”
You roll your eyes and control the smile making way on your face. “If you weren’t already dead, I’d kill you.”
“So, I will be seeing you Saturday?”
“Yup.” You say before shoving your phone in your pocket and walking into the classroom.
You hear Luke laugh behind you and you can’t control the smile any longer, letting it take over your face as he shouts at you. “I thought so.”
“Oh, shut up.” You mumble and fall into your seat, beginning the long wait until class was over and you could go over to Julie’s and relax.
---
You were draped across the couch in Julie’s studio, Luke’s guitar in your lap as you strum gently on it, playing the chorus of a song that’s been stuck in your head for almost a week. While you were humming under your breath, you don’t notice Julie walk into the studio.
“Luke’s gonna kill you if he catches you playing that.” Julie calls over, making you laugh.
“He can try.” You smirk. “But I’m not afraid of ghost boy.” Despite not being afraid of Luke, you did put his guitar back where you found it.
“Let’s not ignore the fact he wouldn’t kill you because you’re both in love with each other.”
You let out a laugh and Julie raises a quizzical brow at you. “Luke’s not in love with me and I’m definitely not in love with him. I think I’d know if we were in love with each other.”
“Y/N, Luke could get down on one knee and propose to you and you’d still think he just sees you as just a friend.” Julie deadpans and your jaw drops. The corners of your mouth twitch into a smile as your best friend doubles over in laugher.
“You are so mean!” you gasp out, picking up a pillow and tossing it over at her. In the middle of doing so, the boys appear right in your line of fire. The pillow went right through Luke’s chest as he furrows his brows, looking between you and the girl behind them who can’t control her laughter.
“Did we miss something?” Alex points between the three of you and you shake your head, not wanting to repeat what Julie had just told you. There was no way they were right. Luke wasn’t in love with you and you weren’t in love with him. Simple as that.
“Okay then.” Luke’s words were slow as he eyes you and blow away any confused thoughts as he takes the spot next to you, draping an arm over the couch behind you.
“Nope.” You say and shoo him off the couch. “You have rehearsal.”
“Oh, but I’d rather stay here right here next you.” Luke’s smile had your cheeks heat up but you pretend to gag, making everyone laugh as well Luke. He pushes himself off the couch, refusing to look away from you until he has his guitar in his hands and turns to his friends. He was met with several different smirks knowing exactly what Luke was doing flirting with you.
Julie moves past him all the way until she was by your side and sending her smirks to you. Your eyes widen and you grab another pillow and hit her with it. She grabs it before you can get a second swing in and hit you back with it.
“Stop!” you laugh out a Julie keeps hitting you with it, giving you enough time to grab the last pillow on the couch and try to defend yourself. The band was watching on, Luke’s focus was strictly on you, trying to memorize the way your smile made your eyes close tight and the way your laugh fills the air. Until you land on your back on the floor and knock over the glass of juice you brought out to the studio with you before rehearsal began.
You freeze as the cold drink covers you, your mouth still upturned in a smile as Julie stands over you. She drops the pillow back on the couch, her hands covering her mouth as she gasps. “I’m so sorry!” You let out a small laugh, reaching your hand up for her to help you up.
“Don’t worry about it.” You assure her when you get to your feet, looking at the way your shirt was soaked.
“Are you okay?” Luke asks you and you gave him a funny look before sighing.
“It’s just juice, Luke. I think I’ll live.” Luke nods, glancing to the ground before meeting your eyes again and you took a deep breath before turning to Julie. “Hey, Julie? Can I borrow a shirt?”
Julie nods and grabs your hand to take you inside. You follow her without a word, only a glance back over your shoulder to see Luke watching you. Once you were out of Luke’s sight, Luke tosses his head back and groans.
Reggie and Alex laugh at their friend’s struggle. “Dude, just ask her out.”
Luke rolls his eyes at Alex’s advice, knowing that a relationship between you and him wouldn’t work. “I’m not going to ask her out.”
“Why not?” Reggie faked whined and Luke gave him a pointed look.
“Should I start with the fact that even though we can touch each other, I’m dead and she’s not? Or the fact that she’s not interested?” Alex and Reggie share a look that made Luke’s brows draw close. “What?”
“She’s interested.” They say at the same time and Luke take a deep breath, glancing to the door before shaking his head.
“How do you know?”
“We know.”
“Then could you let her know?” He points towards the door, his finger dropping seconds before you and Julie and enters the studio and you were donning one of the oversized sweaters Julie had stashed in her closet.
“Thanks again for letting me borrow this.” You tell her, holding the door open until she was inside.
“Course, you can just give it back tomorrow when you come over for rehearsal.” You nod at her, making a note to wash the sweater tomorrow morning before you come over.
“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Luke interrupts your thought as you and Julie glances up, seeing Alex and Reggie growing confused like you and Julie were.
“Hear what?” Julie speaks up, looking between the boys, thinking it had something to do with them. You catch Luke’s eye, seeing the way his lips tug in a smirk and you realize what this was about.
“Luke.” Your voice was low and he knows you were trying to get him to keep things hush.
“Y/N’s busy tomorrow.” He reveals and falls onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the table in front of him.
“What?” Alex calls over, a look of surprise struck across his face and you kind of take offense to it. “You are?”
Your mouth opens, not knowing what to say before you shake your head. “No.”
“No?” Luke repeats, pretending to be confused.
“No.”
“But I thought you were and that’s the reason you couldn’t go out with Daniel?” Your eyes close and you let out a sigh as Luke spills and you weren’t prepared as Julie gasps and grabs your arm.
“Daniel asked you out?” She looks almost mad as you turn to her.
“Um, maybe?”
“And you said you were busy? Are you crazy?”
“Well, I-” you stammer out, trying to form a thought on what to say.
“Y/N!” Julie stops you from coming up with an excuse. “You have to go out with him!”
“Woah,” Luke was off the couch in an instant, suddenly realizing that the idea to mess with you wasn’t all that smart considering Julie was stubborn and would get what she wanted, which in this case was for you to go out with someone who wasn’t him. “Well, I don’t think she has to do that.”
“Quiet Luke, this doesn’t involve you.” Julie snaps at him, seeing him gulp as he looks between you and Julie.
“I’m just saying, like maybe she is busy!”
“She’s not.” Alex butts in once he realizes that this could be Luke’s chance to tell you how he felt.
This time your look of annoyance was sent to Alex and he knew you wouldn’t last much longer. “I’m am.”
“Doing what?”
You bite your lip, letting your eyes move around the room inconspicuously until your mouth speaks on its own. “…Pilates?”
“Pilates?” Julie clarifies and you run a hand through your hair, hiding your face briefly before nodding. “Y/N, I don’t even think you know what Pilates are.”
“I know what Pilates are!” You practically screech as your friends all glare at you, except Luke who looks almost as panicky as you. “Okay fine,” you give in. “I just didn’t want to go on a date with Daniel.”
“Why not?”
Luke lets out a breath you were sure he meant to be a laugh, but you could almost sense his nerves. “Does she have to have a reason?”
“Yes!” Everyone shouts at him at once you cover your face, backing out of the room and letting yourself outside to get some air.
Luke wanted to go after you and apologize for bringing up Daniel’s date, but the moment he took a step, Alex stops him with a hand on his chest and shakes his head. “You should stay here.” He says and Luke scoffs.
“I’m not going to-”
“Luke.” Julie cuts him off. “We’ve got this.” For the first time since the argument started, Luke believes they’re on his side and lets them go outside and leave him alone in the studio, only growing more anxious by the passing second.
You were seated on the steps outside as Julie, Alex, and Reggie all come outside, making you groan. “You guys, I really don’t want to talk about Daniel anymore. Can you just go back and rehearse?”
“How about we stay out here and don’t talk about Daniel?” Reggie offers and you hesitate before nodding. That sounds… fine? They take seats on the steps around you before Reggie throws his arm over your shoulder. “Let’s talk about how you’re in love with Luke.”
You groan, shoving Reggie’s arm off you and turning to Julie. “You told them your stupid theory?” you grumble and Julie puts her hands up.
“I didn’t need to. They figured it out by themselves.” You roll your eyes.
“There’s nothing to figure out.” Your voice was quiet as your head dips, chewing on the inside of your lip. No one said anything as your sights move up from the ground, clocking each saddened look before you give in. “What do I do about it?”
Evil grins, that’s how you would explain the 3 different looks being shoot your way. Of course, none of your friends were evil, only excited, but nonetheless, you were terrified.
“Well, we have good news.” Alex begins and you listen eagerly. “If we can tell that you’re in love with him- and don’t fight back on that, you are- then we can also tell that Luke is in love with you.”
You inhale deeply. “You’re sure about this?” 3 eye rolls were all you receive. “I just have to know before I go in there and screw up the best friendship I’ve got.”
“Hey!” Julie nudges your arm. “I thought we had the best friendship!”
“We do, Jules.” You say sweetly and Julie’s brows raise out of annoyance and unbelievability.
“She’s just not in love with you.” Reggie adds on you hide your face as you groan, hearing your friends laugh all around you.
“Advice. That’s all I need.” You remind them and the laughing stops, finally being replaced by your friends telling you what to do.
---
Luke had been pacing since the moment his friends all stepped outside. He knew Alex and Reggie at least knew how much he liked you and it was the only hope he had that Julie wouldn’t convince you to go on a date with Daniel.
His thoughts ramble in his brain until finally the door opens and you step inside alone, tugging on the sleeves of Julie’s sweater. He freezes only seconds before your eyes lift up to his. Luke takes a breath of courage. “I don’t want you to go on a date with Daniel.”
His words stun you as your brows lift briefly and you clear your throat. “Um, and why is that?”
Luke couldn’t answer. He can’t. He wants to tell you that it was because he was falling for you, that every time he’s flirted with you it’s because he likes you and he likes hearing you flirt back, he likes imagining that someday by some miracle, you’d be a couple and do actual couple things, that he could make you happy. His mess of thoughts were cut off by a pair of lips. They were soft and plump, and had several bite marks lining them, but they felt perfect against his.
Luke pulls you closer as you kiss him, your hands gripping the sides of his tank top as he cups your face to pull you closer. Alex’s advice plays on repeat in your head and suddenly, you were very thankful you decided to listen to your friends.
Just forget everything and kiss him.
.
.
.
.
801 notes · View notes
the7thcrow · 3 years
Text
indulgence | part one
~
pairing: felix x (fem) vampire!reader series
summary: an indulgence grows to become dangerous, as the society of hampden college takes note of y/n’s new blood bag.
series masterlist.
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word count: 4.9k
genre: forbidden love, angst (sorta), fluff, suggestive.
warnings: blood, suggestive content (kissing and a shirt comes off, nothing too crazy lmao), hook-ups (but nothing is explicitly described), strong language, and vampires ofc.
rating: 16+
a/n: hi everyone! this is my first fic, so i’m sorry if it’s a little messy. this is part one of what will be a series. i’d love to hear some feedback, so don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or message! i hope you enjoy!
...
..
.
You are late. The pattering of rain echos from atop your umbrella, the puddles of pooling water soaking your loafers as you hurry along the busy street. However, you pay no mind as the liquid seeps into your shoes, mud embedding itself along your pant leg. On a normal day, you’d scowl. You’d curse the shitty weather, and grumble as you marched home to change into a dry pair of shoes. Only today is different. Today it doesn’t matter, not when you have far greater troubles warranting your concern.
The Council isn’t pleased. They’d be even more upset, if that were even possible, if you arrived tardy. You can imagine their old, petulant faces, looking down on you with disgust. Perhaps even pity, seeing you as nothing more than a childish young girl, who’d been foolish enough to break her vow. You frown to yourself, that’s all they would ever see you as. It didn’t matter how the years passed by, to them you were, and would always be simply that. A child. Always younger, always naive. Most of all, always beneath them.
The headquarters becomes visible in the distance, clouded in the slight haze of fog. It appears to be like any other building on the Hampden Campus. Old and rustic, elegant in the way it was shaped and carved, a relic of history reflected in a modern day era. Only this building holds a far different tale than those surrounding it.
Far more bloody. Far more gruesome. A home to monsters.
Monsters like yourself.
You knock on the door. Twice, slowly. Then a pause, before three times quickly. A code, letting anyone inside know that you are, in fact, a member of The Society. 
The door opens with a creak, a young boy with electric blue hair peeking out through the crack. After recognizing your face, he smiles, ushering you in quickly as the door slams shut behind you.
“Y/N! It’s good to see you. It’s been a while, huh?” The boy says, casually leaning against the door. It has been a while, you never came to this god awful building unless it was absolutely necessary.
“I guess it has been. But it’s nice to see you too, Jeongin,” you speak warmly in return. You’ve known Jeongin for a couple years now, since he first arrived at The Society doorstep. Alone and confused. A freshling, having just been turned. While perhaps not physically, he’s certainly grown since then, in both confidence and courage.
Suddenly, the smile drops from his face, his expression becoming sullen. “I hear you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble,” he states. When you don’t respond, he continues. “It’s not true, is it? I know you wouldn’t-”
“Listen, Jeongin,” you cut him off quickly. You aren’t in the mood to be lectured, especially not by someone whose opinion you actually care about. “I’m already running late. I’ll catch up with you after, okay?”
“Wait, Y/N!” He calls after you, but you’ve already disappeared down the hall, heading towards the council room. You quickly cast a glance at your watch. Shit, five minutes late. They wouldn’t forget that.
With only a quick breath to gather yourself, you burst in through the large wooden doors. The silence in the council room is deafening, as all heads turn to face you. In all your life, you’ve never seen so many dissatisfied faces. 
“Ms. L/N,” the head councilman calls. He has an old face, embedded with wrinkles and a scalp of thinning white hair. Unlucky. He could have been beautiful, or at the very least, young. However, he must’ve been turned late. A pity, to stare at such a reflection for eternity. 
You stifle a laugh. The frown he always appeared to be wearing probably wasn’t helping. 
“Take a seat,” he states, motioning to the chair seated in the center of the room. How dramatic you think, to put you in the middle of so many staring eyes. While the council was only composed of three individuals, the room seems to be full of other lower ranked members of The Society. 
As you take your seat, your gaze wanders the room, landing on a familiar head of shaggy brown hair. His eyes bore into your own, his expression serious. Perhaps even angry, the longer he stares at you. 
You want to say something. Mostly, to ask him what the fuck he’s doing here. This isn’t any of Chan’s business, yet for whatever reason he has the audacity to stare at you as if it is. As if you will grant him answers. As if he deserves answers.
“Ms. L/N,” the chairman interrupts your thoughts. “Do you know why you’re seated here today?” 
Why are you seated here today? Well, that answer is complicated. How could you have possibly gotten yourself into such a mess? How could you have been so foolish? You knew the rules. You knew what was permitted and what was not. Yet, you chose to ignore these conditions.
Why? What could possibly have made you toss everything you’d promised to the side? 
Well, that story starts with a head of bright blonde hair, and a set of curious eyes.
~~~~
The library of Hampden College had become something of a second home to you. Late nights spent bent over a book, transcribing various philosophies and literature into latin. Sometimes greek, however you didn’t have quite the same knack for it. That’s where you found yourself tonight, your beaten down copy of The Iliad staring back at you from its place on the table. 
Your classics degree was coming along just fine. You didn’t mind the endless books to read and poems to analyze. Nor the papers you often found yourself crafting from this very spot in the corner of the library. It was always quiet, always solitary at this time. Even the night owl students having gathered their books, departing the library for a brief rest before their early classes the following morning.
Tonight however, was different. You heard the door creak open, glancing up as a boy appeared in the doorway. He had long blonde hair, fluffing at the nape of his neck. Sporting a sharp blazer and a pair of oxfords, you couldn’t deny he was well dressed. Perhaps that’s why he grabbed your attention immediately, you were attracted to effort. To someone who was put together, who cared. 
The boy took a seat just a few tables away from your own, gently setting his books down and disappearing into the maze of shelves to your left. You attempted to go back to your work, but couldn’t seem to find your focus. Who was this boy? You’d never seen him before in all your time at Hampden. Also, why would he possibly be at the library so late? You recognized the faces of those who while rare, might possibly be here at this time of night. He wasn’t one of them. 
You would remember if he was.
You strained your neck trying to find his figure, having lost him almost immediately.
“A fan of Homer?” A voice rang out from beside your ear. You jumped in shock, greeted by a sweet smile and wide eyes. The boy chuckled. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
You smiled sweetly, trying to calm your beating heart. “No worries. And well, you translate the entirety of Book Eight overnight into Greek, and tell me if you could still consider yourself a ‘fan of Homer.’”
The boy laughed before beginning to pull a chair out beside you. “May I?” He asked.
Looking back, you should have said no. You had a lot more work to do, and near no time to do it. Not to mention of course, rejecting him initially could have saved you from this whole mess. Instead you nodded, a grin forming at the corners of your lips as he sat down. 
“What’s your name?” He asked. His voice was sweet, sultry. Alarming in just how deep it was, not quite fitting his bright and youthful exterior. 
“Y/N, classics department. Yourself?”
“Felix,” he answered. There it was, the first time you heard the name that would cause your undoing. “I’m majoring in history. Listen,” he began, leaning in slightly closer as if he were going to tell you a secret, his voice lowering further. “I must say, I’m in here all the time, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”
You hummed, leaning in closer to him as well. His eyes glinted. “Well that’s simple, I’m assuming you don’t frequent the library at-” you glanced at your watch- “2:32 in the morning.”
Felix’s eyebrows furrowed with something like concern. “You’re here every night at this time? Why?”
“Hey,” you began, not wanting to lose the playful nature to the conversation. You’d heard enough concerned voices to last a lifetime already. “Aren’t you here this late yourself? You’re in no place to judge.”
He laughed, and you knew you could get used to that sound. “Fair enough, I’ll leave it be.”
“Why are you here this late, anyway?” You asked.
“Oh, so you get to know my secrets, but I can’t know yours?”
“Of course.”
He rolled his eyes playfully, resting his head on the desk, cradled by his crossed arms. “If you must know, I couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d read some of your classics, thought they might help me doze off.”
You shoved his arm, to which he feigned a groan of pain, clutching his shoulder. “Excuse you,” you laughed. “I have a lot of Homer to struggle through, and no time for your cheap shots. You can go ahead and leave now.”
You were surprised when he got to his feet, worried for a moment he’d taken you seriously and was actually about to make his exit. Instead, he disappeared into the philosophy section, emerging with a copy of The Odyssey. Felix flopped down back in his chair beside you, extending his feet on top of the table and leaning backwards. 
“Well, then I guess I’ll suffer along with you,” he said. Without another word, he flipped towards the first page.
Felix was a good person to study with. Well, technically you weren’t studying with him, but nonetheless it was nice to have him in the room. He didn’t bother you, didn’t speak, just let you do your work. Sometimes you’d look up and meet his gaze, his eyes imploring you. Curious. Mischievous. 
Dangerous.
“Alright,” you yawned after an hour or so had passed by, stretching your arms high in the air. “I’m done.”
He smiled, slowly closing his book and setting it down on the table. “Yeah? Finally going to go home and sleep?” 
“Sleep? What’s that?” You said, playfully scoffing. “Nah, it’s already past 3:30, it’ll be 4 by the time I get back to my apartment. Not worth it at this point.”
“Hmm,” Felix hummed, a flicker of mischief in his growing smile. “What ever will you do to pass the time?”
“I don’t know,” you returned, excitement building in your chest. “But I suppose I’ll leave you now. You still have about 3 quarters of The Odyssey to get through, and I don’t want to tear you away from-”
You shouldn’t have been surprised when his lips crashed into yours, but you were. You let out a small “mff” against the sudden impact. It took your brain a second to catch up to speed on what was happening. Here you were, with this incredibly beautiful boy of whom you literally just met, kissing in the middle of the library. 
Your second thought was about how you’d never done this before. Not kissing someone, hell you’d done a lot more than just that. But never a stranger, and certainly never a human, for that matter. You had to be careful with who you got close to, you never knew who could be dangerous, who could be a hunter. Besides, The Society had rules, and this alone was undoubtedly breaking a few of them.
So what the hell were you doing?
You should stop this, you thought. But the more you settled into a rhythm, the more your worries trailed from your mind. Felix was a good kisser. A really good kisser. His lips were soft, warm, his breath sharp with the taste of mint. When the dork had a chance to pop a tic tac you didn’t know, but it made you smile against him. 
You ran your fingers through his hair, leaning into him. He groaned in response, moving his hands down your figure, settling in on your waist. Carefully he began to fiddle with the buttons at the bottom of your blouse, and with that it all suddenly became real.
“We can’t do this,” you breathed, finally breaking away from him. 
“Oh, I’m sorry. I went too far, I-” he began to apologize, frantically removing his hands from your body and shifting backwards into his chair.
“No,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips at his sweetness. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, gently tugging him closer to you. “We can’t do this here.” 
The Society had rules, plenty. Human’s, in any sort of relationship, were out of the question. Public displays of affection with even your own kind, especially of the more vulgar sort, were off limits as well. The idea was to not bring attention to yourselves, to not cause a scene. And if you were going to break one of these rules so terribly, you figured you could at least pay the respect to do so privately.
“Okay,” he mumbled, placing his forehead against your own. “Where should we go?”
“My place? It’s a little far from here, but I don’t have any roommates. So..”
Felix smiled, planting a soft, lingering kiss at the nape of your neck. “Lead the way.”
~~~~
The walk over to your apartment wasn’t awkward per say, it was simply...charged. Felix had his arm looped around your own, making your way silently down the dark, lantern lit path through campus. You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest, a desire thrumming down inside you, resurfacing. It had been a long time since you’d last been with someone. That last person being Chan, your ex as of eight months ago.
Things had been good with Chan. Great even, in the beginning at least. He was intense, thoughtful. He loved you deeply. Most of all, Chan understood. Like you, he was a member of The Society. He was under every restriction you were, and felt all the same frustrations. 
Of course, not all good things can last. Eventually your relationship began to sour. Your arguments became full on brawls. Your differences and quirks became unbearable. You couldn’t be in the same room without being at one another's throats. You were the one who finally decided to end things. 
Chan was the only man you’d ever loved, and since him you’d never entertained the thought of being with another. Until now, that is. You glanced towards Felix, who was staring ahead down the street, his eyes dark. You could feel his own desire radiating off of him, visible in the way he slowly swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. Besides, Felix could give you something more. Something Chan could never.
No. You stopped yourself. That wouldn’t be happening tonight. It would only make things more complicated, more dangerous. Still, you could feel it deep inside you, pounding for control. That familiar, incessant hunger. The more you tried to ignore it, the more it was there. Becoming stronger as your ears focused in on Felix’s heart beat, the sound of blood pumping through his veins.
You were pulled from your thoughts as the sight of your apartment complex appeared in front of you. Quietly you entered, making your way up the stairs and towards your own door. Releasing your arm from Felix’s, you fumbled for your keys in your purse. Giving him a small smile, you twisted your key in the lock, and allowed him inside.
The moment you closed your apartment door, all bets were off. Felix tossed his books onto your kitchen table, clashing into you with a speed that almost made you lose your own breath. You felt your back press against the wall behind you, Felix’s lips devouring your own. Desperate and wanting.
He quickly revisited the buttons of your blouse, this time starting at the top and beginning to make his way down. All the meanwhile his lips traced your neck, gently brushing against your skin. With every new kiss fueling your own desire, you slowly began to rock your hips into his own. This was escalating. Fast. As he finished with the last button, he allowed your blouse to drop from your shoulders, smiling to himself as he took you in. 
“Your turn,” you breathed, tugging at the collar of his shirt as a signal to take it off. He did so, absent-mindedly tossing it aside into your living room. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him, staring deeply into your eyes. Then he proceeded to say the very last thing you ever expected him to:
“Look at your eyes… You haven’t fed in weeks, have you?”
You slapped his hand away and shoved him off of you, rushing to the otherside of the room, putting the coffee table between yourselves. “How-How do you?” You stammered, physically unable to form a complete sentence. How could he possibly know what you were? How did he even know you existed?
Felix’s eyes widened, clearly shocked by your reaction. “No, no. Don’t worry!” He said frantically, outstretching his hand to you. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you or anything. I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”
You stared at him, disbelievingly. “Yeah? And how do I know that?” You let this man into your home, your safe space. How could you have been so stupid?
“Look, I grew up around Vampires okay? My neighbors, back in my childhood home, they were like you. I know the signs. I know how your eyes blow out when you’re hungry, the way they glaze over when you haven’t fed in a while. That’s it. I didn’t even realize until I got a good look at you, back when you were translating. It’s no big deal, really.”
You scoffed. No big deal? Felix didn’t seem to realize just how big of a deal it actually was. Humans weren’t supposed to know what you were, certainly not at Hampden. The Society had made well sure of that. God, if The Council saw you now...
“Y/N, I’m sorry. I should have told you back at the library. I honestly didn’t think it would freak you out this much. That’s on me,” he said, inching slightly closer to you. Despite yourself, you didn’t move away.  “I’m serious though, it’s been a while since you last fed. Hasn’t it?”
A while was an understatement. The Society had been going through a shortage of blood bags, after having severed their connections with one of the nearby hospitals. Meaning if you wanted to drink, it would have to be from one of their Certified Donors. Which was another, fancier and far more innocent way of saying prisoners. These were humans who had given their lives to The Society, some willingly and others not so much.
You didn’t like going to their quarters. Located in the basement of the main district, it was always quiet down there. Always solemn. You’d never been to a place lacking so much hope. You’d only gone once, and drinking from that man still haunts you to this day. The way he didn’t move or speak, or even wince when your fangs broke his skin. The way his eyes were hollow and empty. How when you were done he simply laid down in his bed and turned away from you, without another word. 
The Certified Donors were what made you begin to hate The Society in the first place. Since then, your resentment only seemed to grow. 
You sighed, walking past him and flopping onto your couch. “Yeah, it’s been a while,” you confessed.
Felix carefully approached you. Instead of seating himself next to you, he got down on his knees, resting a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay, you can use me. I don’t mind.”
You were ready to tell him no, the word lingering on the tip of your tongue. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. Perhaps it was your hunger, the fact that a few more weeks in this drought, you might actually become ill. 
Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you wanted to disobey the society. That this little act of rebellion, this utterly wrong indulgence, was what made your desire grow unbearable, unchained. You hated The Council, you hated the Certified Donor system, and you hated the way they had such a firm grip and control on your life.
A beautiful boy was seated in front of you, begging you to drink from him. How could you possibly say no? Better yet, why would you say no? To deprive yourself of something so great, for something you despised so deeply seemed ridiculous. That was the moment your judgment lapsed, that you crossed the point of no return. If you drank from Felix, there would be no going back. If the council found out, there would be consequences. Big ones.
But who doesn’t love a little risk?
You sunk down to meet him on the floor, staring at his bare chest. You could hear his heart pumping, its pace quickening the closer you got to him. 
“Are you sure about this?” You asked.
“Yes,” he whispered. You shifted your position. Not quite seating yourself in his lap, but hovering above, your knees on either side of him. 
“This might hurt a little bit,” you warned. You extended your fangs, approaching his neck, carefully. You didn’t realize until then how nervous you were. It had been a long time since you’d fed from a human. You’d drank from Chan of course, but he was also a vampire, and your blood didn’t have quite the same effect. There was pleasure in it, usually accompanied in moments of ecstasy, but it didn’t replenish you. It didn’t heighten your senses, nor fill you with energy. Most of all, it didn’t satisfy your hunger, your thirst. Not at all.
Felix’s blood would. 
You kept this in mind as you finally plunged your fangs into his neck. Felix let out a gasp, tensing beneath you, his hand clutching onto your arm for support. The taste of his blood grazed your tongue, metallic and warm. Delicious.
Fuck, did blood ever taste this good before? You didn’t think so.
The sweet taste consumed you. Intoxicating. Raw. Cascading over your mind in a blanket of pleasure, reveling in the way its effects seeped over your body. You could feel your mind growing sharper, your senses becoming more alert. It was a relief, after weeks of blurry weakness, of being too close to humanity in your thirst. You felt yourself again, the monster you are. The monster you are glad to be.
Here you were powerful. Invincible. And all you wanted was more. More. More.
More of this power, this sensation, this strength. This is what feeding should be. What feeding can give you. Not from a blood bag, nor a helpless prisoner, but from someone you want. Someone you desire. Someone who desires you in return.
It was as you felt Felix’s grip on your arm loosen that you finally broke away, breathing hard as you caught your breath. Felix’s eyes shifted to yours lazily, dazed. Perhaps even delirious. For a moment you feared that you’d taken too much. He blinked slowly, his eyes regaining focus.
Then he smiled. “Shit Y/N…” he began, his voice appearing more of a croak. “That felt really fucking good.” 
You grinned, leaning into him and pressing a series of kisses up along his jaw. Felix shivered, allowing his hands to slowly slide up your figure. Wanting.
“Yeah?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. “Then how about we continue where we left off?”
      ~~~~
The next morning you woke to the sound of your alarm buzzing, sunlight peeking through the opening of your drapes. You heard a low groan next to your ear, quickly becoming aware of the hand wrapped around your waist. 
So last night really happened. The reality of your situation dawned on you. You’d both drank from and fucked a human. There was no going back now, you’d completely disobeyed The Society.
Worst of all? You didn’t care. At least, not near as much as you should have. 
You shifted to face Felix, seeing his eyes still closed, eyebrows furrowed. “Hey,” you whispered, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “We have to get up. I have class.”
He groaned again in protest, shaking his head and burying his face into the crook of your neck. Between last night's events and the ringing of your alarm, you both only got about two hours of sleep, and that was being generous. This was no problem for you, as while sleep was a luxury, it was not a necessity. The same didn’t go for Felix.
“Come on,” you laughed, worming out of his grasp. “You’ll be fine, I’ll go make us some coffee.”
You rolled out of bed, throwing on Felix’s discarded shirt and heading towards your kitchen. Flicking on the radio, you felt oddly blissful as you grounded the coffee beans into a filter. It had been a long time since there’d been another person in your apartment. It made the space seem less… haunted. No longer lingering with the essence of Chan’s ghost. It felt fresh. New. 
Felix emerged from your bedroom, rubbing his eyes sleepily, sporting only his khaki’s from the past day. His gaze met yours and he smiled. “So, I take it my shirt is yours now?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, leaning forward over your kitchen counter. Felix bent down, causing you to become nose-level with one another. The close proximity made your heart race.
“Mean,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss you softly. There was no unchained desire, no promise of more. It was simple, warm. A morning of peace after a night of wildness.
You could get used to this, you thought.
The thought sunk in your chest like a stone. This wouldn’t be as simple as you wanted to be, as you needed it to be. There would be sacrifices to make, and cautions you’d have to adhere to. You had to get the truth out in the open. Better to rip the bandaid off now rather than later.
 “Felix, you can’t tell anyone about this.” You said. The smile faded from Felix’s face, and for a moment he looked so… hurt. He stepped back.
“About the feeding? Y/N, I wouldn’t tell anyone what you are, don’t worry about-”
“No, not just the feeding. About us. About any of it.”
Felix opened his mouth to say something, but then quickly closed it. His gaze hardened. “Ah. Got it,” he stated sharply, grabbing his blazer and motioning to the door. “I’ll just head out then.”
“Wait, Felix! No, it’s not like that,” you said, rushing around the kitchen island and reaching for his arm. He turned around to face you, his expression wounded. “Listen, I don’t know how it was with your old neighbors, but here at Hampden things are different. There’s certain rules we have to follow, and what you and I did? Well, that broke about a hundred of them.”
Felix was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Okay… But what do you mean rules? Who’s enforcing them? Hampden?”
“No, it’s bigger than that. There’s a group of us here, a society. There are rules we abide by, and they’re meant to keep us safe. Keep us united,” you explained.
“Like a cult?” Felix asked, and you had to refrain from rolling your eyes.
“Well, if that helps you, then whatever. Yeah, sure. A cult.”
“Where do you-”
“I’m sorry,” you cut him off. “But that’s all I can really tell you, at least for now. Honestly, the less you know, the better. Just for safety’s sake.”
“Oh. Alright,” Felix said, his lips pursed. He wasn’t pleased, that much was obvious.
“I know this sucks, I’m sorry. But if we want to keep doing this-”
“Wait,” Felix interrupted, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “You want to keep doing this? I thought you’d get in trouble?”
You smiled, and were pleased to see the corners of his mouth curve up in return. “I’ve already risked getting myself in trouble.” You trailed your finger along the bare of his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. He was so alive, so real. And it only made you want him more. Perhaps, that’s why he wanted you as well. You were unpredictable, wild. A challenge. 
A match made in hell.
“I dug myself a grave, Lix.” You looked up at him, entranced by the curiosity swimming in his eyes. “Might as well lie in it.”
~~
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