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exnihiliogenesis · 2 years

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Whole lotta poetry going on for continuing it enduring long in the training practice for the average skilled assigned championship participation as written poems should be always high with contents and extremely abundant to bring it massively one day to the top by playing it raw and uncut just to pretend how simply much imperfect it may sound by obvious while keeping it variably kiddy and unlearned unprofessional arts.

Title:

No filling occupied story, no possible rhyme allegory

In this journey through time universal

Everything supposes to follow plan

As the life stands out by any means

To maintain fascinating in the same

Way for as long as possible success

Is gained and adventure tamed when

You can't get it balanced, perhaps because

There are ups and downs to every

World in game which is a serious venture

For its taking is not a role to play but

Rather a virtue to attain for pleasure

Must undermine the opposite, that

Being pain, should have no drain on

You since to live means to be flame

In this word work rhymery plane

Where all happens to function again

And again with power to verse rap

Campaign and let prose voice make

Flow water rain so brain run the blood

Circulate with words poem to place

A sound music in phrase matching

By each tune melody take, song rule

Whatever in breaks all changing the

Meaning In rhyming arrange and create

The poetry gig sessions on make, the

Lucky language display, in putting

The words mixed for to lay verses

Down while its useful and may be

Constantly key design to open up

The imagination so lines can knowledge

Entail the intelligent action of rapping

That straight engages and inhesitantently

Prevails always in amaze by what all

You are possible to lyrical arty relate in

The passion for word loving is great

To dwell against fails and avoid problems

For no headaches should keep me up

From the walking way in day by per

Say the only path to enter the future

While fate is an indirect fixed outcome

When you still reach the alternate and

Integrate cause set optioned to make

It eventuate in mind situate certain related

On cross over turn out happening ascension

From two time occurrences will meet

In accession as the real final stage is

Initiated to form the resulted origination

Which takes place and relevate the

Circumstance in effect that life leads

Mostly at first to irrespective ending

But comes to have followed the impending

Nature upfront in programmed course

To consequently evolve from its source

Like a seed growth to become a tree

For at last it turns out to be the material

Offspring which gains us the best open

Product that by times, was created through

Its fate induction to provide the knowledge

News becoming fact and reality creation

Just to keep all in procedure to its destination

In time and space for impregnation so

The world may continue to reinvent game

For to rhyme and hold the tension on

What always needs condensing like

Thick milk intervenes with liquid flow

Protein to fill fat on nutrition clean and

Pure to protect from putrefaction by

Enabling cream and honey for the biomass

Consumption does also come from plants

And fruits providing carbonhydrates and

Calcium and support nourishment by

Storing salt and sugar for more flavor

Rocks the food variation to produce oily

Essences straight to supply energy cells

Through natural aging making edible

Rations resourceful by burning calories

To one torching is running the system

And the brains is fueled with the potential

Fire from the elements to create the

Language names to power words for

Life living force creed out of nature

Workings strengthened to change with

The ripe moments transformed into

The good poetry prosing word life owing

And cast the phrases flowing with nature

Loading world up souling verse speech

Chosen rhymes devotion in evoking sound

Bound pursing lots of balladry churning

Steady gurning happy mirthing positive

Lit in a yearning of all poem storming

Fervor for the love of poetic power

Increasingly high favors my favorite

Lyrical further winning worder surder

In the verge of urger rhyming serve the

Eager virtue straight just to burst blow

Air tunes rushy while the super drive is

Much feel free speed to engage it farther

Clever in the heat of time heed for the

Beat is chiming to the song prose no

Matter the limits imposed on the difficulty,

If it takes nearly infinitely then there

Is a lot of time to solve the mystery of

The universe which came into being

For the greatest adventure to smart

The life to solve the intelligence of nature

For our fate thus won't try to belate us

With what cannot really be achieved but

Must be gone going through in world

Past pass evolution to let it all come

Worth to be true and be done with so

Everything can make way and reach in

Achieve any like liken likely likeness

In relation resembles same connection

For more ways should make sense when

Everything goes and lingers for the victory

Must come eventually permanently reality

To not get it all to stressy as some things

May and might get messy if we don't surpass

Our time which can't be stopped since things

Got to rock in ages therefore I follow

The good old pages of my unforgettable

Writings once written for to set mind

Tune into historical documentary for

More commentary as the best good

Against the contrary guess rule on less

Should be speculated in evolution to

Calculate the new methods of exact

Estimation of numbers which are in

Perfect arrangement and hold value

Above the numerification of shape and

Counting base in its data outlay by

What and which degree it falls into area

Of the sphere and locate the 4 points to

Mark the X on the map through putting

Middle tangles with the coordinates and

Focus on range the perfect distances from

The plane that plots and hencewith shows

The exact spot to lead the input on post

Progressive most relative in next info

Connected to track the right line order

In course and reenaction to verse the

Prose proliferation by contextuality in

The making to rhyming binding investigation

So enough resource will be taken for

The incipient fighting stanzas reverbs

The strophe enticing commitment to

Poetry imaginations which will always

Be different and through actuality randomly

Flow effused with producing industrious

Language loops and bring lyrics into

Grooves to be blessed in flesh and only

Rest forever when life has drawn its last

Working breath until then we never

Back down and all usable means are still

Allowed for not to surrender and keep

Creating rhymicals in full blender or

Having words splendour the music to

Poem manner with each bar like the ultra

Hammer in the lyrer slammer every

Cipher the flanger jammer through poetic

Arts in trend and thus bars tender sound

Render with great candor as the wordings

Enchanter and tone rock banger freestyle

Changing commander whenever the

Melody clanger grammar in poetry

Enamored for tunes in harmony on soon

Remains the gasketing hanger by

Voice sampler to trip trap words divest

Raps at spit with mouth direct rip the

Mic to fit disco on a lips blow casting

Flip flow finest fiction ever trick dope

Textures only me hold from my teeth

Scores track which beast modes really

Smack to remain competent and swag

The technicolor when I holla rhyme blow

Hurler just to ball and spur the bass bust

Taller in confidence so raw and unconfined

Making written raps my one of a kind

Permanent activation in life muse for

Producing lyrical works as immense as

I ever could through imagination and

Determined effort only to get fun or

Fullest satisfaction from writing the

Course retraction by never ending lines

Like infinity prosaic world is never done

But keeps recurring all the time

In mind conscious to non-stop

Create any story random

On freestyle riccochet

Improvised giggy

Rewind exposé

#poets on tumblr

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dominickoanm461 · 2 years

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10 Inspirational Graphics About van finance deals

When you get an automobile finance, you will be delivered along with a list of benefits as well as components. All the financial institutions offer a different collection of functions and benefits that creates their vehicle loan special, beneath specified are a number of the typical attributes as well as perks that you are going to come to appreciate when you pick auto loan.

Reduced rates of interest: Being actually a secured funding, auto loan are normally subject to reduced fees of interest as contrasted to other financing options like private loans, property lendings, or other secure car loans.

Quick funding handling: As auto loan are actually given versus the auto you wish to get; it therefore involves tolerant eligibility requirements and minimal paperwork. This allows loan providers to refine the loan a lot faster.

No necessity to utilize your discounts: Along with the schedule of cars and truck financings, people are certainly not required to fork over their discounts or await lengthy to buy their aspiration auto.

Versatility to opt for the tenure: Banks give vehicle loan for a tenure of up to a max of 7 years. You have the versatility to pick the period as per your ease.

No extra collateral called for: You carry out certainly not possess to place any type of added security while get an auto loan. This is actually considering that your vehicle will definitely serve as a surveillance along with the banking company and also in instance you fall short to produce the payment, the bank can take possession of the lorry and market it off to recover the funding amount.

Versatility to pick the settlement setting: You have the flexibility to select the setting of repayment to settle your vehicle loan. You can pick to pay for through post-dated cheque or even use the auto-debit resource where your related regular monthly installments (EMIs) will be actually instantly deducted coming from your financial account. Make certain you carry out possess van loan adequate balance in your profile from which the funds are going to be subtracted.

Early repayment facility-- In an auto loan, you can also pre-pay your finance before the end of the tenure through using this center. The problems and phrases may differ coming from one banking company to yet another. Some auto finance business permit you to pre-close the car loan only after accomplishing a certain period. While some banks enable you pre-pay whenever you yearn for. Costs might be actually relevant for pre-paying your auto finance as well as differs for different lenders.

Accessibility of different payment alternatives: In a car finance, you obtain five different settlement choices utilizing which you can settle your car loan i.e. regular EMI, step-up EMI, step-down EMI, exclusive tie-up EMI, and Balloon EMI.

Profit

In few words, vehicle loan have a considerable amount of terrific functions and also perks. As a result, it is among the absolute most preferred paths for having your goal four-wheeler as opposed to tiring your veteran cost savings. Thorough investigation is consistently encouraged prior to deciding for vehicle lending.

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tsukishumai · 3 years

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pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x f!reader word count: 2.7k (idk I’m sorry) tags/warnings: fluff, smut, NSFW, bondage, oral(f!receiving), MINORS please DNI with this post a/n: a big thank you to @forgetou and @neobakas for beta-reading this piece for me. ilysm <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were always incredibly considerate of Sakusa. It had been that way from the moment the two of you had met. You didn’t scoff at how he needed to be the first one in the locker rooms after practice, or laugh at his post-game rituals. You quietly adjusted to his odd habits, no fanfare or complaints. You never did so with any disdain nor treated his quirks as if they were a nuisance. You just accepted those parts of him without a second thought, considering it just as important to him as his limbs.

So yes, Sakusa fell for the kind girl that made him feel normal – the one that avoided taking him to crowded places, and stitched his jersey number onto a face mask. He thinks your jokes are hilarious, and he feels proud when he’s the one making you laugh. He likes it when you cook his favorite meals, and he appreciates the way you stay up to wait for him when he gets home a little late. He notices the effort you put into always looking pretty for him every day, always waiting for him to initiate contact for fear of invading his personal space.

But that’s just the thing.

Sakusa doesn’t want any personal space from you. He loves the way you smell, and the way your skin feels beneath his fingers. He daydreams about holding you in his arms, and rubbing circles along your back as you relaxed against him. He gets butterflies in his stomach when you kiss his cheek without asking him first, and he revels in the timid look on your face when you apologize for doing so.

He doesn’t mind. Why would he? Despite any preconceived notions one might have of him, Sakusa enjoys affection – from the right person. He’s not going to give Bokuto a high five, nor is he going to shake Hinata’s hand. Sakusa never fails to get the odd look from Atsumu when he slides his hand into yours without a second thought, or when he ‘allows’ you to brush his hair away from his face.

Sakusa wants to scoff whenever he hears that phrase. He doesn’t allow you to touch him. He yearns for it like his lungs need air.

So of course he notices when you try to keep him at arm’s length.

You were never afraid to tell him how you felt, easily slipping I love yous and I’m missing you into daily texts and conversation. It made his heart flutter, but Sakusa wasn’t a man of many words. He’s not sure how to write a love letter, and he’s never even picked up a poetry book. When you ask him how much he loves you, he’ll just look you dead in the eye and say “A lot?”

No, you won’t be receiving sonnets nor prose about his undying affection. He’d much rather just show you.

His every touch is filled with so much care, delicate but sure as they travel across the stretch of your skin. He places gentle kisses along your pressure points, feening for the feel of your pulse against his lips. He wants to taste every inch of you, and commit the sensation of you on his tongue to memory.

Yet whenever he tries to lower his head past your navel, you push him away. You try to distract your rejection with your kiss, rolling him over instead to take him entirely in your mouth.

It’s not that Sakusa is complaining; how could he when he’s pumping his dick into your silky throat, watching your saliva dribble past your chin as you choke on his length?

He forgets about your denial until his next attempt, when he’s nipping at the skin of your hips, moving his mouth to forge a wet trail that lead to the space between your legs, and yet again you pull him up from his spot, kissing him and grabbing him until he plunged himself inside of you instead.

As he collapses next to you in bed, wrapping his arms around you while you nuzzle your face into his chest, for the first time ever, he feels unsatisfied — as if he hadn’t done all that he could have.

He brings this issue up to you the next day, unabashedly asking why you wouldn’t let him kiss you.

“What do you mean, Omi?” You asked, confused. “We kiss all the time.”

“No, I mean,” he turns slightly red as he gestures to your crotch, “There.”

The flustered look on your face shouldn’t have made him hard, but it did. He liked the way you stuttered and widened your eyes, searching desperately for the right words to say.

“I dont know,” you answered finally, “I figured you thought that kind of stuff was gross.”

You cut the conversation off there, no longer wanting to speak on the subject, but it haunted Sakusa for the rest of the day.

Gross? Why would you think that of him? Don’t you know that he wants to claim ever single inch of your body, wants to dip his fingers into you and watch your eyes roll to the back of your head, wants you to sit on his face until he can’t breathe? Had he not been doing a good enough job showing you this?

Sakusa shakes his head, feeling disappointed in himself.

It’s alright. He’s got a plan.

Later that night, as he ran his hands along your waist, lightly dragging his nails across your stomach, he leaned down and whispered in your ear, “I want to try something new tonight.”

You didn’t even think about it as you nodded your head eagerly like he knew you would, gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes that screamed of lust.

He sits up, and you try to sit up with him but he just pushes you back down onto the mattress. You looked up at him curiously as he reaches down the side of the bed to where he placed a plastic bag with his earlier purchase.

Sakusa’s hand emerged holding a pair of silver handcuffs, and he smirks at the way your eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Hands up,” he commands, and you quickly obliged. He looped the handcuffs behind the bars of his headboard, cuffing one of your wrists on each side. He left it slightly loose so as not to injure your skin, but as you struggled against your bindings, Sakusa was pleased to find that it would be impossible for you to get out.

Your arms were outstretched above you, and Sakusa roves his hungry eyes over your dips and curves, so exposed and vulnerable to whatever he wanted to do.

But only one thing was on his mind.

He begins with a soft kiss placed in the crook of your neck, ghosting over your collarbones before leaving marks all across your chest. You fidgeted beneath him, and he placed two hands on your waist.

“Stay still,” he commanded, and you simply gulped.

Sakusa dips his head back down, supple lips enclosing around your hardened nipple, and you arched into his touch. You shiver when his teeth nips at you, while he brings his other hand to cup your other breast, fingers pinching and twisting the previously ignored bud until you were a whimpering mess.

He disconnects his mouth a loud pop, but it wasn’t long until he begins to drag his tongue across your stomach. His direction slowly moves further down, and he can feel you slightly tense up. He ignores the way you try to wiggle your body away from his ministrations; you have nowhere to go, and he has you right where he wants you.

Sakusa draws circles around your navel, his hands finally coming down to rest on your hips.

“Omi,” you say nervously, the handcuffs lightly clinking against the metal bars they were attached to, “I’m not sure if...”

Your words died on your tongue when Sakusa’s grip tightened on your hips, looking up at you through his lashes before darting his tongue out to wet his lips.

“Relax,” he cooed, “Be a good girl for me.”

You nearly choked, your throat feeling dry watching Sakusa move his hands down to your thighs, kissing his way down to uncharted territory. You felt uneasy, and nervous, unable to keep your insecurities at bay when you felt Sakusa lick at the junction of your thigh and pelvis. He was so close to you – what if he thought it was dirty? Or didn’t like your scent? You could feel the warmth of his tongue trace up your pussy lips, and it was involuntary the way you tried to kick him away.

Suddenly, you felt a hand grip you tightly behind your knees, forcefully pushing your legs apart and up against your chest. You gasped in surprise, face turning red at your position. You squirmed against Sakusa’s grip, but his hold on you was strong, and the silver cuffs around your wrist were doing their job well.

“I thought I said be a good girl?” Sakusa questioned, his expression stern while he had your legs pinned down. “Or am I going to have to punish you for being such a disobedient little slut?”

The butterflies in your stomach manifested themselves as the slick wetness between your legs, and Sakusa smirked at the starstruck look on your face.

“I’m a good girl,” you whispered, though the position you found yourself was anything but.

Sakusa responded by pushing your legs even wider, looking down to admire the view. He could feel the tip of his dick struggling against his boxers, a large wet spot on the material indicating just how much he wanted to wreck you. But that could wait.

You start to feel shy under his intense stare, trying not to wiggle away and get another reprimanding.

“Omi, what are you – ahh!”

Sakusa licks one long stroke up your slit, and you couldn’t stop your entire body from shivering. He could feel your legs tremble beneath his fingers, and who knew just one lick could already elicit such a reaction from you?

He moves one hand away from your leg, using two of his fingers to spread apart your folds. Like a man finding treasure, he plunges his tongue onto your swollen red clit, sucking and nipping at it gently before flattening his tongue, drawing patterns that made you feel like your entire body was on flames.

Your head was thrown back against the pillows, back arching as you struggled to catch your breath. Sakusa flicked his tongue against your pussy so expertly, alternating his speed and rhythm in a way that had your legs shaking violently.

“Ohh fuuuuckk,” you managed to groan out, gripping onto your bindings so tightly, your knuckles were turning white. The lewd sounds of him lapping at your clit could only be heard in between your gasping breaths.

Sakusa flicks his tongue up one last time before pulling away slightly, staring up to drink in your flushed expression. Your tongue was lolled out the side of your mouth, eyes rolled back and chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Your arms hung limp from its tether, and Sakusa can’t think of a prettier picture.

He looks down at your shining cunt, glistening and swollen and Sakusa didn’t think twice about slipping two fingers into your slopping entrance.

He hooks your leg over his shoulder, smiling as you thrashed helplessly, body reacting fiercely to the way he hooked his fingers and found your gspot with ease.

You squeezed your eyes shut, screams and moans filling the room, unable to adjust to the pleasure of Sakusa rhythm.

You could feel the heat pool into your stomach, tightening in a knot so fraught with tension, it was only seconds before you snapped.

Sakusa could feel the way you pretty little cunt began to tighten around his fingers, quickly slipping in a third one and burying them in deeper.

“Ki...kiyoomi.. I’m .. I’m gonna —“

Sakusa latches back onto your clit, flattening his tongue and sucking in rhythm to the way he pumped into you.

Your legs tightened around his head, but Sakusa didn’t stop. He could feel every tremble, every shake of your thigh against his cheeks, blocking out the sounds of the way you called out his name.

You bucked your hips up into his mouth, and he could feel you gush on his tongue. Sakusa lapped up every single drop, and you felt your body twitch as he continued to lick your sensitive clit. Finally, he surfaces from his meal, looking up at you with your sex dribbling down his chin. It was sinful the way he withdrew his fingers from your cunt and reached up to shove them in your mouth. You sucked on them eagerly, eliciting a smirk from the wavy haired man.

“You taste so fucking good, don’t you?”

Sakusa pulls away, standing up to get rid of his boxers before quickly returning to his spot on the bed.

Your arms were numb, and your legs felt weak, but Sakusa gave you no chance to recover from his previous performance, grabbing your ankles once more and pressing your legs down into a press.

“Such a good fucking little whore,” Sakusa murmurs in your ear, nearly crushing you in the process. “You just let me do whatever the fuck I want, don’t you?”

Without a warning, he slams into you in one hard thrust, the only retaliation coming from your mouth was a strangled groan.

“This pretty pussy is all mine,” Sakusa muttered, keeping your ankles steady by your ears, his cadence unforgiving, and unwavering.

“Omi.. I.. I can’t —!”

Sakusa responded by angling his hips to hit your sweet spot, reaching deeper than you thought possible.

“Yes, you fucking can.”

The crude sounds of his drive were only amplified by the way you gushed all over his dick, the mess you made staining the 400 thread count sheets he so carefully picked out for the both of you.

Sakusa wanted to hold out longer, he really did. But the way you looked under him right now, so fucked out and stupid, he couldn’t help but feel himself get closer and closer to his limit.

“Kiyoomi— please!! I can’t —“

In one swift movement, Sakusa pulls out, pumping his cock until he spilled hot white all over your stomach.

You hadn’t done anything but lay there — bound, at that — but you were desperately gasping for air, your heart beating so fast, you thought it would explode out of its cage.

Sakusa sits back on his heels, equally out of breath, his dick growing limp in his palm, though it still twitched at the sight of you covered all over his cum.

He leans over to give you a peck on the nose, leaving you to walk to his attached bathroom.

He returned a few seconds later with a warm towel, gently cleaning the mess he had made all over your stomach. You nearly fell asleep at his touch, only opening your eyes when he unlocked the cuffs around your wrists.

Your arms fell back down limp, and Sakusa chuckled, kissing the red marks left by the cold silver metal.

“I’m sorry for this,” he mumbled against your skin.

You smiled at him lazily, bringing a hand to tuck a loose strand of wavy hair behind his ear.

“Don’t be sorry.”

He smiled once more before planting a soft kiss on your lips. He settles into the empty space next to you, pulling you on to his lap. You laid your head on his shoulder, and your hand settled on top of his chest, sketching soft circles with the pad of our fingers. He rested his cheek on top of your head, while he supported your back and held your thigh.

“Did you… like that?” He asked quietly, his deep voice disturbing the calm that had nearly engulfed you.

You felt your face heat up, burying further into his chest. He chuckled lowly, holding you tightly and placing a kiss on your temple.

“I did… d-did you?”

Sakusa brings his hand up to your chin, tilting it upwards until you were facing him.

“I loved it.”

He leaned down to place a gentle kiss, filled with all the tender love and care he never gets to say.

Suddenly, He pulls away.

“Hey, what are you—“

He slid his hands beneath the back of your knees, picking you up bridal style in one easy movement. He turned around and made his way back to the bathroom.

“Come on, let’s take a bath first.”

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miraculousluvbug · 3 years

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WINGLESS | Ch. 2

***WARNING: Season 4 Spoilers Ahead

***New to Wingless? Start at Chapter 1!

CH. SUMMARY: Of all the people Rena could let slip that she knows Ladybug's identity in front of . . . it had to be Chat Noir.

< < < THREE MONTHS AGO < < <

Ladybug swung from building to building, the exhilaration of a job well done fueling the fire in her veins. Traffic it would seem had resumed immediately, the sounds of wheels on pavement and cars obnoxiously honking ricocheting throughout the city’s architecture. This didn’t surprise Ladybug, seeing as the city had grown quite accustomed to akumas blocking the roads. Once the tips of her toes touched a rooftop, it wasn’t long before she was joined by another pair of boots.

“That went well,” commented Ladybug as she swiveled to face her teammate.

Rena Rouge folded her arms across her chest and popped a hip, lips puckered in a frown. “Are you kidding, girl?”

Ladybug’s face fell. No, she wasn’t kidding. She honestly had felt it went well. Was she missing something? Did a disaster strike while she was focused on her lucky charm? Had her Miraculous ladybugs not corrected all of the damage? Were there civilians hurt somewhere--

Abruptly, Rena clapped her hands on Ladybug’s shoulders and squealed, putting a halt to Ladybug’s internal meltdown. “That went amazing! We’re like a well-oiled machine, you and me. I still can’t believe I get to do superhero stuff!” At the sound of Alya’s impromptu shrieking, some pigeons nearby took flight, cooing what Ladybug imagined was a bird version of crotchety old people grumbling. Not even the least bit deterred, Rena leaned forward into Ladybug’s personal bubble, eyes wide with excitement. “But what I really can’t believe is that I’m doing it all with my best friend!”

Ladybug relaxed her posture and let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. But she quickly regretted it when she got a nice, big whiff of crepes, urine, and cigarette smoke. Ah, Paris. Home, sweet home. However, noticing her thoughts were veering dangerously offtrack, Ladybug shook herself mentally.

So nothing had gone wrong. Rena was just being Rena and drawing out the suspense. Ladybug patted her friend’s right hand--which was still firmly squeezing her shoulder--and smiled sweetly.

“It sure is convenient that I don’t have to hide from you anymore,” the spotted-heroine remarked. “I think half the time I took so long to get to a battle because I always had to come up with excuses.”

Rena grinned with a knowing glint in her eye. “I might be impressed if your excuses were actually good.”

Rolling her eyes, Ladybug turned away from Rena, causing Rena’s hands to fall to her sides. “Hey, you try having to come up with five hundred different reasons you have to flake on your friends and see if you fare any better.”

Rena was about to sass her best friend some more, but the words caught in her throat at the sight of Ladybug hugging herself. She recognized this stance. Ladybug’s head was in what Rena deemed the “Guilt Grotto.”

Rena stepped forward to wrap Ladybug in a warm, girl-you-better-get-your-head-out-of-the-guilt-grotto-or-I’ll-tickle-you embrace when there was movement across the rooftops in her periphery. She craned her head to the right to find the familiar silhouette of Chat Noir vaulting his way over, a goofy grin clearly plastered across his face the closer he got.

In a matter of seconds, he landed squarely beside Ladybug, startling her. Ladybug, the epitome of grace that she was, did a series of awkward hand gestures before falling back on her bum, shrieking.

Chat Noir didn’t even look a teeny bit remorseful.

“Looks like I got here just in time!” he quipped, bowing and sliding his baton back into place on his suit.

Rena held out a hand for her friend as Ladybug voiced her question: “In time for what?”

Chat bounced on the balls of his feet. “Well, for the akuma, of course! You guys were having a quick team meeting, right?”

Rena and Ladybug shared a look. So that’s what he was so happy about. Ladybug opened her mouth to reply, but Rena beat her to it.

“Actually, we already took care of the akuma.”

Chat Noir visibly deflated. His ears drooped and his belt tail started to swish back and forth. “Oh.” He turned to the edge of the rooftop and hunkered down, letting his legs kick to and fro in an attempt to get rid of some of the adrenaline.

Ladybug winced. Chat did not sound happy. Hesitantly, she sat next to him. Rena then took a seat beside her, making her the middle. “Sorry, Chat. I know you like battling akumas more than I do.”

Chat nodded before murmuring, “Thirteen.”

“Hm?” Ladybug scooted closer to him to hear him better, their legs nearly touching. She leaned to her right to get a better look at his face and tilted her head innocently. If she were Marinette then, she might have fallen off the rooftop altogether, but she was Ladybug, and Ladybug had way more poise.

Chat didn’t answer immediately. Whatever it was that he was about to say, Ladybug knew it must be something important if he, the guy who was always upfront about his feelings, found it difficult to say. The guy who told her . . .

It’s precisely when something is important that it’s important to say it.

No matter what.

Ladybug gingerly rested a hand on his arm, hoping he understood what the gesture meant. It’s okay. Take your time. I’m ready to listen.

After a few more moments of staring at his feet, Chat Noir lifted his head so his eyes bore into Ladybug’s. They creased with . . . Was that worry? Sadness? Fear?

“Thirteen,” he repeated, a bit louder. “That makes it thirteen times you and Rena have battled an akuma without me. Since Montparnasse Tower.”

Ladybug was speechless. As she stared ahead, eyes unfocused, she tried her hardest to recall all the akuma battles. It was challenging as her memory loved to fail her when she needed it most. Had he really not been in any of those battles? Had it really been thirteen times?

Had he . . . had he really been keeping count?

Ladybug didn’t know what to say, but she knew she had to say something, anything. But what could she say? Was she sorry?

No, she couldn’t be sorry that the akumas had been defeated, that the victims had been rescued, that she had been able to do so quickly because Alya had been spending a record amount of hours by her side.

She couldn’t be sorry about any of that. She was only sad that he felt sidelined.

That was not her intention.

But she knew what the solution to that was.

And she would rather die before she let Chat Blanc see the light of day.

Somehow, knowing her identity had led to him being akumatized. Somehow, whether it was in an alternate timeline or when their memories had been wiped by Oblivio, she knew that what he said at Montparnasse Tower--that to know him was to love him--was truth. And Chat Blanc had told her what their love did.

Their love destroyed the world.

Their love had killed her.

Their love broke the moon, for crying out loud.

But, most importantly, their love hurt him.

Chat Noir had told her he loved her, many times, and she had even been considering giving his pun-spurting, jokes-at-the-worst-times self a chance. But being forced into combat with her akumatized partner had violently squashed any hope she had for them, for LadyNoir as Alya coined it on her blog. Ladybug would be damned if she allowed that to happen again. And if that meant encouraging him to move on even though it broke her heart . . .

Well, it wasn’t supposed to be easy being a hero.

Ladybug had this entire conversation with herself in a matter of seconds. She was careful not to let her face expose any of her innermost feelings, instead sporting an expression of neutrality. What she ultimately decided to do was tell him the only truth she had to offer. He hated secrets and she hated lying. What a pair they made.

“I wish it could be different,” she whispered.

And oh, how she did. She desperately yearned to tell him who she was, to know who he was, to tell him about Alya and Nino and all the other people she had entrusted with a Miraculous.

She wanted him to know how she grew up, what kinds of things she did at school, how she was utterly ridiculous when it came to her rotten luck (and she tried very hard to push a certain blue-eyed blonde out of her head the moment that phrase came to mind). She was sure he would snicker at all the times she made a fool of herself in front of Adrien, of all the ways she made her own life a living hell with her clumsiness.

Or perhaps he wouldn’t laugh. Perhaps he would pat her shoulder and uplift her with words of encouragement. She didn’t know. After the stunt he pulled with the balcony of candle-lit roses, the boy was a wild card, an enigma. He was complex.

And it thrilled her.

But no matter how she felt about him, they couldn’t know each other that way.

Sighing quietly, Ladybug brought her knees up to her chest and turned away from Chat Noir. If she had been watching him when she responded, she might have seen him look longingly at her, but she didn’t.

Rena Rouge did, though.

Wanting to make her friends feel better, Rena added, “Don’t you worry your pretty kitty head about it. I’m sure all those battles would have taken way longer if we weren’t already together.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir both stiffened. Chat’s gaze flicked from Rena to his partner over and over before they finally rested on Ladybug. “Uh, what does she mean by that?”

Ladybug shot a glare in Rena’s direction, but her eyes softened when she saw that Rena genuinely appeared surprised.

He didn’t know? Rena’s eyes asked Ladybug.

He didn’t know, Ladybug’s affirmed.

One would think Rena was Lady Luck because her pendant had decided that that moment was the best time to beep, and she couldn’t agree more. Now she had an escape route from this conversation. “Welp,” she clapped her hands together, “I’m gonna go chill in that fine-lookin’ alley over there.”

Before Ladybug could agree, Rena sprang from her spot and promptly disappeared. She was a regular magician, and her latest trick was leaving Ladybug with a rabbit to put back in the hat.

Or, er--a cat back in the bag. Whatever.

“What she meant by that . . . ” Ladybug began slowly, like she was addressing a wounded animal. Which, maybe she was but just, you know, emotionally wounded.

“Yeah . . . ” prompted Chat, signalling that he was not going to drop this.

Ladybug quickly jumped to her feet and began her ritual of frantic pacing. “Look, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while, but I didn’t know how to because I knew it would raise questions that I couldn’t answer--”

A blonde boy in white leather with somber blue eyes appeared in front of her and she dug her heels into the cement, skidding to a stop.

Chat Noir was behind Ladybug now, his voice soft and curious. “Bug?”

Ladybug was frozen in place for a few more seconds before she shook her head hard enough to give herself shaken-baby syndrome and nodded, satisfied that the aggressive head-shaking had rid her of he who shall not be named. She whipped around and started.

Chat Noir was incredibly close.

She didn’t know he had gotten this close.

Geez, his eyes were really cat-like.

He also had a really cute nose--

Ladybug, FOCUS!

Ladybug took a step back. She made it her mission to ogle his bell instead of looking into his dumb kitten eyes. “You--” she began, but Ladybug’s throat was suddenly dry. She gulped. “You know how much I hate secrets and lying. And I know how much you hate secrets and lying. So I’m not going to lie to you. But I may not be able to answer the questions I’m sure you’ll have, so please . . . ”

Ladybug grabbed one of his hands then and held it firmly between her own, pleading with every fiber of her being that this would communicate how much he meant to her even though she knew what she was about to tell him would make it seem like he didn’t mean anything.

Please forgive me, Ladybug’s heart supplied.

When he didn’t immediately take his hand back, she looked up at him. She looked into those dumb kitten eyes and knew without a shadow of a doubt--

She was a masochist.

This was going to hurt. He didn’t like when she was the only one to know Rena’s identity. He definitely wasn’t going to like that Rena knew hers. This would be so much easier if she wasn’t ogling those big, emerald green, beautiful, brazenly dumb kitten eyes.

But she was a masochist. And she needed to see them while they still held love for her.

“I told Rena Rouge who I am.”

There. She ripped off the band-aid. Straight to the point. Zero room for interpretation. After all, her worst arguments started because of her clumsy miscommunication.

Ladybug braced herself for an explosion. She had played this moment in her head a couple hundred times since exposing herself to Alya.

Yelling. There was always yelling.

Sometimes, he stomped away while doing that weird T pose where his fists didn’t connect to his hips . . . a pose she herself was guilty of, too.

Others, he chastised her about her thoughtlessness--to which she responded that she definitely thought about it long and hard that day.

Ladybug braced herself for an explosion because she was sure there was going to be one, especially after seeing him upset about her always running off to Master Fu. He hadn’t even known there was a Guardian for a while.

What she hadn’t braced herself for was the expression on his face.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

His head was bowed.

His eyes were closed.

A lone tear slid down his cheek.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Her heart thudded against her ribcage, screaming at her to run because he wanted her Miracul--!

No! She refused to finish that thought.

Her head yelled back that he wasn’t akumatized right now, that she wasn’t back there, that she wasn’t with him. She desperately tried to shove the image from her mind. This was more than she could bear. She just--she couldn’t take it! She couldn’t take it because . . .

Because . . .

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Because he looked just like him.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

He looked like Chat Blanc.

-----

Heya! Thanks for reading. ❤ Check out my Instagram for Wingless updates. I'm also posting pieces of a Wingless cover with each chapter update!

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obaewankenobis · 3 years

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for forever — obi-wan kenobi

pairing(s) : obi-wan kenobi x reader ( mostly focused on obi-wan’s character, not the relationship because i am a hoe for this man )

summary : after the fall of the jedi order, you can finally be together. alternatively, obi-wan needs therapy/deserves happiness.

word count : 2.1k

warning(s) : character death, a bit of angst i guess but it’s mostly fluff.

notes : roughly edited so i apologize if things don’t make sense, i honestly came up with this on a whim and have No Idea what was going through my head when i wrote this. the povs also switch a lot but enjoy </3.

The sand bit at his fair skin, the grainy winds of Tatooine ruffled through his auburn locks, peppered with strands of grey, as Obi-Wan Kenobi stood, rigid and grief stricken. Kind wrinkles framed his eyes, eyes weighed down by exhaustion and desolation, the memory of a thousand wars flickering in the brilliant blue reflection. Without speaking, the woman looking at him from afar knew he had suffered a lifetime of hardship and grief, his aching heart not given a moment to mourn the loss of those closest to him. The mahogany cloak billowed around his body, covering the burnt, tattered tan robes he wore, as the wind picked up, signaling there would be little time before the twin suns set and it was much too dangerous to be outside. Snuggled between the lone man’s arms, swathed in soft cream blankets to shelter him from the cruel and unforgiving weather, was a baby. With sea blue eyes and the sparse tufts of pale blonde hair, the newborn was the mirror image of his father — that in itself was bittersweet.

Fire. That was all Obi-Wan could remember, the smoldering lava confining him and his enemy — once his friend, his brother — inside a tight circle of flashing blue and blazing rage. Now, things were blissfully quiet, as if the universe was trying to give him peace of mind after what it had taken from him. With heavy shoulders and hollow eyes, Obi-Wan was a shell of who he used to be: a great warrior and an excellent negotiator, all gone. His last mission was here, on Tatooine, to deliver the baby to his aunt and uncle: Owen and Beru Lars. Then, he would spend the rest of his years wasting away in a sandy prison, languishing in his defeat.

“Is it true?” The woman from afar, who had taken to staring at him from a distance, finally approached him, awaiting his answer with bated breath — Beru. Is it true? The words reverberated in his head, as the reality came crashing down upon him. The woman in front of him needed certainty, she needed answers, answers Obi-Wan could not give her.

“Yes,” came the final reply. Who knew a single word could hold such heavy meaning? Yes. An entire government who’s history spanned hundreds of years prior collapsed within a single day? Yes, that had happened. His religion, who he had devoted his entire life to and poured his soul into, gone? Yes, decimated without a sliver of mercy. The baby’s father, the hero of the galaxy, the crown jewel of the Jedi Order, killed? Yes, murdered in cold blood.

Beru finally brought her attention to the boy nestled within the robes of the man. “Is he . . . ” She seemed to only speak in half questions, as if finishing the sentence would make it a harsh reality, and leaving the query to hang heavy in the air would somehow leave her life in a fairytale.

“Yes,” he replied again, nearly choking on his words as the boy let out a tiny coo, as if he sensed they were discussing him.

“Oh.” There was a pause, a flicker of hesitation, before the woman decided to continue her pattern of half inquiries to form her own story. “May I?” With shaking arms, Beruu reached forward to take the boy from Obi-Wan’s grasp and welcome the baby into her own warm embrace. Part of him didn’t want to let the child go, for once he did he would have no real connection to his past life. Letting go of the boy meant letting go of everything, from his first steps in the Temple, to his meeting with his apprentice on Naboo, to the countless, sleepless nights in a war torn galaxy, it would all be gone. The woman’s tender smile and patient gaze was nearly patronizing, she was trying to sympathize with something she couldn’t possibly understand. No one could. A wave of fury washed over him, trapping him in a cage of his own emotions. Obi-Wan had never felt such an intensity roll over his body, preferring to keep his temperament a tranquil, emotionless pit. But this raw, uncontrollable fury was soon washed out with an even more overpowering bout of sorrow, shaking him with such force it made his knees wobble and threaten to give way. For over thirty years he was taught emotions were the enemy, by being detached and aloof he would survive, and look where that had gotten him.

Another soft cry from the baby jerked Obi-Wan back into the present moment, as his tiny arms reached for the woman, drawn to her sunny kindness and comforting aura; he realized a place to call home or a comforting shoulder to cry on was never something he could offer as the baby grew older. The woman made a small clicking sound with her tongue, looking up at Obi-Wan with an expectant gaze, and yet his grip on the baby remained the same. Although his mind seemed desperate to listen to logic, to reason, his body remained motionless, following the dull ache and painful longing in his heart. The battle between his mind and emotions lasted a fraction of a second, and at last, as it had time and time again, his mind won.

Like he had done all his life, selflessly sacrificing himself for thee good of the galaxy, he let go.

The woman took the baby in her arms, and began her journey back to her homestead, pausing just slightly to exchange one last parting smile and a word of comfort. “I think someone wants to see you, Master Kenobi.” With that, Beru began walking, a happy baby in her arms, to her husband, just as the sky merged from clear blue to salmon pink and hazy orange, the twin suns beginning to disappear over the horizon rapidly. As the light dimmed and dusk settled in, the man could make out the shadowy figures of Beru and Owen Lars, holding Luke Skywalker in unmoving content.

Here to see me? Obi-Wan frowned, reflecting on the woman’s words. This was not his home, his very identity was supposed to remain a secret, who could possibly want to see him? Unless . . .

No, that was impossible. He had mourned your death just as he had mourned every other Jedi’s death the moment their own clones turned against them, and he would not allow even a tiny sliver of hope to crawl its way back into his heart. Because in the end, he could only cling to the belief that things would get better, and false hope in such a desperate time would be his undoing.

—

You wondered how long you could stand in the shadows before he noticed you, standing awkwardly by his dewback as he delivered Padmé and Anakin's son to his new family. Like Obi-Wan, you had suffered the loss of everything and everyone you knew, your entire life destroyed in the span of a second, and all you could do was stand there, watching everything burn. The Jedi robes you once wore with pride, robes that were once a symbol of humility and hope across the galaxy, now put a priceless bounty on the head of anyone who wore them.

“Obi-Wan?” The name was dry in your throat, mouth parched and lips cracked due to the harsh Tatooine heat.

Though he was always subtle, you could see his entire demeanor change, the way his shoulders became straighter, the way his hands, once balled up into fists of worry, were now relaxed and laying loosely at his side. In a moment, he had turned around and closed the distance between the two of you, caramel boots growing dull and scuffed as he stepped through the unforgiving desert surface beneath him. “You’re alive,” his voice came out in a hushed, cautious tone, disbelief still tainting the edges. “I thought — Yoda and I — the only ones left — ” his words grew more jumbled with each passing phrase that left his lips.

“But I’m here. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” you cut him off, the calm gentleness of your tone making him stop in his tracks. Slowly, each movement pained and deliberate, you stepped closer, inching your way forward until he was right in front of you. Neither of you could look away; with the Jedi Order dead, there was no reason to hide in secrecy now.

—

To realize he was not alone was comforting, but to know it was you he could seek company in was freeing. In that moment, with the distance so close between your bodies, Obi-Wan dared not breathe, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out the smallest of breaths — this was all he had ever wanted, and still, despite everything, it was something he believed he could never have.

He wouldn’t allow himself to believe it. Not after he spent all those years repressing the desire that burned so deeply within him it began to rot within his heart, trapped with no release in sight. At one point, he had every reason to deny the yearning stirring within him, but now? Now there was no war, no Council, no code, no nothing to stop himself from unleashing decades of pent up turmoil within him.

And stars, it was suffocating.

He couldn’t do this.

“You know you don’t have to push me away any more.” A suggestion more than a factual statement; voice thick and barely audible.

Was this a dream, a fantasy meant to be chased after in his sleep? Or some sick, twisted premonition the Force was trying to convey to him? So many nights he had spent languishing in his loneliness, dazed in a delusion that remained but a figment of his imagination.

“I know.”

“What?”

“The Jedi are no more. We . . . We don’t have to pretend we don’t have — ” The words were bittersweet on his tongue; even with no one there to watch and scold him, he could not betray his way of life so easily. That everyone I have ever loved, I have watched die in my arms? And throughout all of that, I have never been tempted by the dark side, but if I lost you, I would be afraid of my own morality? Those were not easy thoughts to formulate into a coherent sentence — there were no words Obi-Wan could say that would even begin to describe how he felt.

Instead, in a tender gesture of vulnerability, he reached out through the Force, and all at once it came crashing down on him.

This feeling . . . it was all consuming, and he was drowning, struggling to keep his head above water and not surrender to its frosty depths. He was submerged in an endless stretch of icy ocean water so frigid and numbing, that he felt nothing and everything all at once. It was terrifying to think — and let you know — you held so much power over him, but in the same instance, he felt at peace, like a weight he had dragged around for decades was finally lifted off his shoulders. I love you, rang as bright as the city lights on Coruscant and as clear as a Nabooian waterfall. I love you.

“I love you, too.” He heard your voice in a soft whisper, swelled up with emotion as you took in everything. Chills erupted down his spine; he couldn't quite tell if it was from the inky blanket being tugged across the sky as dusk descended into nightfall, or if it was the four word phrase that left your lips.

—

“I cannot live without you,” Obi-Wan let out a shaky exhale, breath fanning across your face just slightly, your foreheads making contact in the lightest movements. You felt dizzy, in a dreamlike trance, for you had never been this close to him. You could see every horror he had survived in his glassy blue eyes, notice every perfect imperfection that blemished his skin and made him all the more real. In a moment, his face had become blurred as he closed the distance and finally, finally, his lips were on yours, and you connected in a long awaited, eternally sought after kiss. You could feel his hands, calloused but gentle, cupping your face, as your own fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, the kiss grew more fervent and needy, every rule you had ever lived by crumbling as you melted deeper into his touch.

After a long moment, you broke away, breathless, your face still tantalizingly close to his.

“I will never leave you, Obi-Wan,” your lips parted in a determined vow, a promise you would keep to your dying breath. The Jedi were dead, and yet you never felt more alive.

#obi-wan x reader #obi wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi #star wars #angst #probably should edit this #obi-wan needs a hug #and some therapy too #post order 66 #revenge of the sith #prequel trilogy #star wars prequels #one shot

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tjerra14 · 2 years

Note

15, 16, 18 please!

Tbf I also had a very hard time deciding because I want to ask you all of them as well but let's see what you've got for me here!

15: Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)? Definitely the tags. The titles simply pop into my mind, often unbidden while I'm doing something else entirely--which is why at least the last four fics have been named either by microbiology or something else study-related. There's a word, or some lyrics, or a simple phrase that I come across and it just latches on and insists on being used. Summaries are similar, although I'm kinda taking the easy way out by trying to figure out what the fic is about in the most basic sense, which is how you get those extremely vague one-line descriptions I've used lately. And tags... tags are a nightmare. I've got a few standard ones I always use, but when it comes to actually tagging the fic for what's in there, I never know. I just bullshit my way through it. 16: Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?) Hoo boy, what wasn't new ever since I started writing again in June 2021. First Horizon fic. First fic in present tense. First fic from a 2nd person POV. Overcame the fear of writing following Ikrie's perspective. Totally re-organised the way I write fics by putting the unchronological snippets my brain inevitably comes up with into a separate notebook, and insist on writing chronologically when it comes to the actual doc. It's mind-boggling, really. And might've been just the push I needed to find joy in it again. 18: Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them. Most of these were minor things that came to change naturally over the course of plotting/writing. In You, All Things wasn't supposed to have a kiss. Linger was supposed to start with Aloy already in the Cut, and the entire first part with Talanah and then Rost's grave were never planned to be a part of it until they suddenly were. (The very first note on this one reads: "this is supposed to be a short (!!!) fic of Aloy yearning so PLEASE keep that in mind else you'll have to flip (read: gently turn over) the kitchen table") Unfold Your Empty Space was originally intended to be written from Ikrie's perspective but was changed over the course of the gloves dilemma. (Fun fact: this is why it begins with "The stars are different this far south.") There was also a part where Ikrie tackles Aloy, plunging both of them into the nearby, pretty cold river, effectively stopping Aloy's internal crisis.

#good lord i went on rambling for ages #thanks so much for the ask foibs!#asks #fanfic #hzd fanfic

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crescentsteel · 4 years

Text

Just Friends - Part 6

plot: fubu set up with Kuroo , model fem reader warnings: a bit spicy at the end word count: 6.7k

A.N:

I’m putting a short pause on this series. because it’s October: 1) kinktober; 2) Halloween drabbles

next part will be j u i c y

I listen to Erutan while writing

THANK YOU SO MUCH to those who leave wonderful comments in the chapters. I always read them and get silly happy

Lmk if you want to be part of the taglist

I accidentally deleted this chapter. I hate myself

Part 5 | Part 7 | m.list

Your eyes alternate among the four men who are blathering in front of you. You’ve been in events like this before, so interacting with guests isn’t a problem for you. But this. This is mayhem. Much of what they’re saying doesn’t make sense to you. You’re pretty sure that they introduced themselves, but their names didn’t stick because one would interrupt the other before they’re even comprehensible.

Despite them towering over you (except for the orange-haired guy who’s a tad shorter than the rest), they seem like boys squabbling over who gets to talk to the pretty girl first. You had to press your lips together as a disguise of a civil smile, but in reality, you’re stifling a laugh from leaking out. It would be rude since they’re guests as well.

The laugh stuck in your throat instantly evaporates when you see a familiar figure approaching, a figure you know all too well. You try to get a clearer picture, but he turns to the blonde-haired guy, only revealing his side and back profile to you.

You lose awareness of the other four from before. Your eyes are solely focused on him, waiting for him to face you so you can confirm that you aren’t daydreaming. Before you left Japan, it was frequent that you saw him in certain places you go, but it was just actually your brain conjuring his images to fill in the void you felt.

Being out of the country, the daydreams stopped. And now that you’re back, right on your 1st day in Japan, you’re back to seeing illusions? That can’t be. It’s been months for Christ’s sake. You’ve moved on. Maybe it was just someone with the same build, or ..

“I’m so sorry about th-”

Or it really was him.

You definitely aren’t hallucinating. But damn. You aren’t prepared for Kuroo to appear before you, and more so, you aren’t prepared for how he’s looking exceptionally good tonight. He’s donning a formal black suit with a red tie which you haven’t seen him in before. It was always shirt and pants. In his graduation party, it was just long sleeve polo in navy blue and black denim that he wore. You didn’t think much of it. You thought ruggedness was part of his charm. But no. This refined ensemble also suits him. It suits him too damn well.

You can’t believe it. It’s been months and yet, the sexual pull he has on you is still intact.

“Sorry about them.” He says with the signature mischievous grin he has.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ was what you want to say, but you’re on official business. You peek at the four boys, and just as you thought, they’re staring.

You give your rehearsed smile and bow. This is not the time and place for a reunion. You pray that he gets the drift.

Of course, he doesn’t. You become alarmed when he advances directly face to face with you. You take a step back to provide enough space between you two. You can’t have him too close. However, he still catches up. Before you can even react, his hand is already in your hair as his fingers tuck the strands behind your earlobe.

“How’re you, kitten?”

The feel of his skin directly on yours, despite being the lightest of touch, stirs something wistful in you. It gives you unwanted and unnecessary recollections of his graduation party.

You scold yourself mentally. Like you told yourself a while ago, this is not the time and place. When you look around, you see that the blonde and black and white guy was gaping in shock while the remaining two look puzzled.

He hasn’t changed. Still an expert on taking advantage of a situation to make you lose composure. Does he think that you’re going to let him do as he pleases?

Hell no.

You give your best goody-girl impression and beam at him.

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” You say in perfect English, your pitch higher than your usual talking voice. “You must be mistaking me for someone else.” You add. Kuroo’s brows raise at your trivial retort. You peek at the boys to see their reactions. It was priceless.

The blonde guy is slouching, his face buried on the shoulder of the orange boy while his own shoulders are shaking. Orange boy is shushing him. The black and white guy doesn’t bother hiding his boisterous laughing. The black-haired stern guy looks repulsively at Kuroo.

You can’t tell if they understood the whole phrase, but the ‘who are you’ is basic. You’re sure they got that one at least. You turn your eyes to him again and purse your lips to the side. You tilt your head a bit and flutter your eyes in a demure manner.

He grits his teeth as he shoots daggers at the four. “Scram now. Before I report you to your manager.”

“Introduce yourself okay, Kuroo?” Black and white calls out and laughs while walking away. The blonde guy joins him, letting out his suppressed laughter while hitting black and white’s back.

After they’re out of sight, Kuroo’s attention is on you again. His irritation is gone and is replaced with amusement that twinkled in his eyes.

“I didn’t know you spoke English.”

You look down and drop the doe-eyed act. In just one blink, your eyes are sharp and your lips curled into a corner. You cross your arms before meeting his gaze.

“Since childhood actually.” You say proudly with your normal voice. Then, you dive straight to the point. “What are you doing here, Kuroo?”

“I’m working. What’re you doing here, y.n.?”

“I’m working.”

He doesn’t say anything, but the devilish smirk on his face doesn’t leave his face while his eyes are glued on to you. You don’t falter. You hold his gaze with the same daunting expression. Just like before, you always find yourself wanting to topple his presumptuousness. You don’t back down. You’re always ready for whatever remark he’s going to throw at you.

But instead, you’re met with a change in his demeanor. His face softens up - his eyes glint with yearning while his previous smirk dwindles down to something that looks equally sad and glad at the same time.

You’re ready for anything, but this. You didn’t think you’d see him again, but you’ve held up well. You will not let yourself get carried away with Kuroo’s musings, be that sexually or emotionally. So you look away, breaking the spell that held you both captive. You clear your throat before speaking.

“Let’s do what we should be doing here then. See you around.” You try to dismiss yourself from the situation as quickly as you can, but your attempt to walk past him is useless. One pace and he’s already blocking your way entirely.

“Why the rush?” Something about the way he dominates the space in front of you tells you that you won’t escape.

“We’re both working right now.”

“Dinner after this, then?”

You let out a defeated sigh. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Not a chance.” His eyes are gleaming in success when he hands you his phone, just like he did that morning after you had sex the first time. You know that he’s thinking the same. You share the same meaningful gaze at how familiar this scenario is.

You shake your head while typing the number you just got this afternoon.

–

You sit across Kuroo at the coffee shop he took you to.

“What’s this about, Kuroo?”

“What? Can’t I invite an old friend to dinner?

“Mmmhmm.” You browse at the menu and decide which tea you’ll have. You can’t have caffeine right now. You need to be able to sleep after this very long day.

“You look good, y.n.”

You scoff at the comment. Is this his attempt of a small talk?

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you sneer while still browsing.

“Oya? Let’s see then hmm.” You feel the table vibrate as he taps it with his fingers.

“It was shitty the way you left.” The tapping stops in unison with how you feel your heart skip a beat.

Your eyes snap up from the menu. His one arm is on the table while his hand rests on his chin, his eyes piercing yours with a serious intensity you’ve never seen before. Are you ready for this conversation? You still don’t want to tell him what really happened then. You might not feel the same anymore, but it still doesn’t sit well with you. It was your own naivety that got you in that situation. After a while in the US, it registered to you that you did not have any right to be angry at him. He hurt you, yes, but it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t even owe you an explanation for that night. He could have sex with anyone he wanted without letting you know. Your inexperience led you to believe that you two had some kind of exclusivity.

But you can’t have him know that. You both have nothing to gain from letting him know. He’d probably laugh at you, or worse, feel bad about it. Despite your relationship, you know he’s a good person. He might feel obligated to do something about it. You don’t want that. You don’t need that.

“Are you ready to order?”

The waiter came at the right time. Your thoughts were about to go somewhere bleak. You smile at the waiter.

“Green tea, please.”

Kuroo doesn’t move and lazily tells the waiter, “Whatever she’s having.”

You face Kuroo again, ready to answer him this time.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it. I tried to tell you at the bar, but…”

Unpleasant memories surges in your head. You shake your head to chase them away. “I wasn’t feeling very well suddenly. Then I just got busy the following days. I had to process a lot of papers. Next thing I knew was I was about to leave.”

You hope the lies sounded real to him. You didn’t need to process papers. Your visa and passport are ready. You’ve always flown to other countries, courtesy of your family trips. The miserable truth was that you were wallowing in misery in your apartment.

“But I did try again, right? I mean I asked to meet up before I left.” You add casually, a tad cheerier than your earlier tone.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you leave?”

‘Because of you.’ That answer is still crystal to you, but of course, he’ll never know that. “Modeling,” was your answer instead.

His brows knit together in confusion.

“I thought you didn’t like it. Weren’t you doing it only cause you’re cut out for it?”

What. You told him that? You don’t remember doing so, yet he did. You think fast, racking your brain for something believable to back up your lie.

“I wanted to know what would happen if I actually tried.”

He just keeps staring at you as if he knows something you don’t, his eyes searching for any trace of doubt in what you just said. But you just meet his stare firmly, refusing to lose ground.

“Is it worth it?” It shouldn’t be a strange question, but the way he said it is. You must’ve imagined it, but it sounded like it quelled an inkling of loneliness. Perhaps you’re getting tired and projecting the feelings you had at him.

“It is.” The only truth you’ve stated in this coffee shop. You still saw modeling just as a job, yet you presently enjoy the hustle and bustle of making a name for yourself. But back then, it was what you hopelessly clung on to so your head isn’t full of him. It diverted your thoughts from Kuroo until you no longer thought about him, until the feelings faded.

“But enough about me. What happened to you after graduation?” You shift the subject to him so you’ll have to stop talking.

He removes his arm from the table and sits up straight. He takes his wallet out and hands you a calling card that read:

Japan Volleyball Association, Sports Promotion Division

You stare at it with amazement as you read it once again in your head. Holding the same expression, you gape at him.

“You don’t have to look so impressed, y.n.” He says that but he’s grinning too wide.

“It’s just I-I. Uh. Wow.” You struggle for the right words to say. You don’t know how to express the happiness you feel for him. You couldn’t think of a better career for him. He was so determined at university, to the point that he dropped out of its volleyball team. Yet, his laptop background was a volleyball stadium. He’s also kept his volleyball jerseys. You know because you once rummaged through his drawer to look for a shirt you can borrow. He worked hard and in the end, he was able to keep volleyball in his life in his own way.

You don’t have any passion for anything and you never had to work hard for anything. Witnessing someone strive at something and succeed, especially Kuroo who you were with at the last steps before his success, you can’t be anything but happy and proud.

Unhesitantly, you get up from your seat and sit beside him. You loop your arms arounds his neck and haul him in a congenial hug. You couldn't resist it. You had to do something to let out how you feel.

Before Kuroo can even react, you let go. Your arms drape until it is only your hands that are touching his shoulders.

“That’s great to hear! You’re perfect for it.”

He’s once again immersed in the marvel your orbs hold. Your smile reaches your eyes, and what a vision it is. He witnesses it again, how you truly value his accomplishment. You’re an international model, but you never showed this much enthusiasm when you talked about your career. Compared to yours, his job seems mundane. Yet, you celebrate it like it’s a really wonderful thing.

Rather than saying anything, he pulls you back to his embrace, wanting to feel your body against him for the second time. You gasp at his action, but he doesn’t let go yet. Only now does he become aware that he missed you this fucking much.

“Glad to have you back, y.n.” No haughtiness, no games, only sincerity. He can feel your uneven breathing and your chest beating wildly. Suddenly, he’s conscious of how good you feel like this, how you seem so perfect enveloped in his own body, how you should belong to him.

He releases you and looks straight at you, your eyes mirroring the yearning on his own.

“Let’s take this somewhere private,” he says softly. You lower your eyes. But before you do, he catches the pained glimmer in them. You push him lightly away, effectively breaking the contact.

“I can’t,” you say sternly, which winds him up.

“Why? Are you dating someone?”

“No. I just,” you suspire before carrying on, “ don’t want to go back to what we were, Kuroo.”

“And what were we exactly, y.n.?”

That’s when you return your gaze at him, but no remains of the sad glints he saw previously. He waits for your answer to the question he’s been asking in his head before you left.

A dry smile forms in your lips.

“Fuck buddies is how they call it.”

So that’s all it was to you. Can’t say he’s surprised. Disappointed, but not surprised. He wished it was something more.

“But I think that we did become friends at some point, you know,” you add, which gives him a sliver of hope.

“And what are we now?” he presses on.

He sees weariness setting in your pretty face. As much as he wants to keep the conversation going, you look like you should be taking off already.

“You okay?” he asks.

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then proceed to rub your eyes, smearing your eye make up a bit. “Sorry, I just flew in this morning.”

“Let’s go then.” He calls the waiter and asks for the bill.

“I’ll drive you home. You still live there?” He asks, referring to your old place at Roppongi Hills.

“Yes, but I don’t have my car yet. I’ll just take a cab.”

He smirks at the misunderstanding. “What I meant is I’ll drive you home with my car.”

“Tch,” you say, but you smile softly. “To Roppongi Hills then,” you add.

He hands the bill to the waiter and doesn’t wait for his change. He gets up to which you follow. “This way, maam,” he says mockingly while leading you to his car.

He let you rest on the way. Your eyes were closed the whole time. You must be really worn out, so he just focused on driving. But the whole ride was only short. In no time, he’s already at the parking area of your place. He stares at you for a while, just taking in your presence, savoring the idea that you’re really back.

He leans in a bit to caress your cheeks. So soft and warm.

His eyes trail to your lips, which is not the best thing to do at the moment. It just fueled his hunger to claim that luscious mouth so he can taste you again. What he’d give to feel you melt in his arms again.

He lets out a harsh breath at where his thoughts are taking him. He wakes you up before he loses control.

You blink a few times and compose yourself rapidly. You unbuckle the seatbelt, but do not move after.

“I think it’d be cool if we stay like this. No sex. Friends without the benefits. Just friends.” Even though you aren’t looking at him, he knows how serious you are.

“Yea, yea. I kinda got that already. I’m not an idiot.”

“Really? I beg to differ most of the time.” The short nap seems to have gotten some of your sassiness back.

“Well this idiot just gave you a ride home. Be a little grateful?”

“Aww. Did I finally tick you off?” you taunt teasingly, to which he mischievous grins at.

“Of course not. If anything, I’d love to accompany you to your room since you’re too tired. As a friend and all that jazz.”

You smile sarcastically and roll your eyes. “Goodnight, Kuroo.” You open the door and hurriedly step out. He immediately opens the window and yells.

“Night, kitten!” which echoes at the parking lot.

You don’t look back, but you flash your middle finger as a response while you keep walking.

He’s bawling at his seat. You’re not a person who curses. Doing so cracked him up even more. The both of you still enjoy trying to get under each other’s skin. And he’s won tonight’s round. Jesus Christ, you’re really something. When was the last time he laughed like this?

Just friends? He snickers to himself. Fuck that shit.

–

Your encounter with Kuroo somehow put you at ease. You won’t deny that something is still there. You definitely felt it, but it wasn’t as chaotic and messy as it was before. You believe they’re just tailends of the past, and now that you made it clear to Kuroo that it’s not going to be the same as before, you can have some peace of mind. All the times you both said you’re just friends, now you can actually say that without pretense.

You like Kuroo. He’s cool and you two share the same humor. With the recent lack of communication and absence of sex, you’re sure that your feelings will completely go away very soon.

But aside from him, you also want to reconnect with another friend.

You press the doorbell on Kenma’s new home the second time. What is he doing? He said he was home. You get your phone to call him, but the door opens all of a sudden. Instead of Kenma, it’s the 6’2 counterpart of the duo.

“Why are you here?”

You two utter the same words the same time, which earns a raised eyebrow from you and a smirk from him.

If he’s here, then you’re at the right place. But why did he have to be here? You want to talk to Kenma alone. You don’t mind Kuroo, but there are things that only you and Kenma know about.

“I think I’m allowed to be at my friend’s house.” He said.

“You’re not his only friend, you know.”

Your peripheral sees something shuffle at a distance behind him. “Let her in, Kuroo.” You hear the familiar nonchalant voice. He looks at where the voice is coming from.

“Haa? I thought it was just us today.” Even though he says that, there’s a knowing tug in his lips.

“Huh? You’re the one who came here all of a sudden.”

Kenma’s annoyed voice reached your ears. You use your fist to cover your mouth from laughing, to which Kuroo pouts at.

“If you’d excuse me then.” You say teasingly while you let yourself in.

Kenma waves languidly at you with a warm smile, as warm as Kenma can possibly be. He still looks the same, except that his hair is longer now and the black roots are more prominent. He’s still wearing the regular baggy clothes, but something about his eyes seem keener.

“Heeey. How are you?” All the saltiness with Kuroo is gone, replaced by amiability exclusively for Kenma.

“All good. My channel and company are doing well recently so I moved out.”

You squint your eyes a bit. Did you hear him correctly? His channel and company?

“Sorry, I don’t quite get it. What do you mean?” He frowns, also looking confused as to why you’re confused.

“You didn’t know? He already founded his company before you left. He also has shit ton of viewers on his gaming channel. Pfft. You really call yourself a friend?”

You ignore Kuroo’s side comment. All you can think about is why you didn’t know the information he just said. You thought Kenma was just a regular student who comes over to play sometimes. Not only that, he’s nothing like the CEOs you’ve met. And he’s as young as you are!

The other night it was Kuroo, now it was Kenma’s turn to amaze you.

And just like with Kuroo, you don’t hesitate to give him the congratulatory hug as well. It’s so gratifying to know that these two you consider friends are successful in pursuing their passion.

Kuroo is a bit shocked at your gesture. He didn’t know that you two were that close for you to hug him like that. Still, he finds it nice that you and his childhood best friend get along swimmingly well. Kenma always had this aversion to people in general. He doesn’t speak much and usually won’t talk until spoken to. More specially, he’s not any good at physical affection.

So naturally, Kenma’s stunned as well. Kenma’s eyes fly to him for a few seconds, but looks down before he can figure out what Kenma was thinking. But he can imagine Kenma awkwardly pushing you away while looking uncomfortable. He already has a plan. He’ll mockingly offer you a consolation hug with open arms since Kenma will refuse to let you. He can’t wait to see you riled up.

Only to be taken by complete surprise when Kenma puts a light hand on your back while patting your head. For someone like Kenma, this is already more than just a friendly hug. What the? And to deliver the finishing blow, Kenma has this almost affectionate smile while doing those.

Goddammit.

Kuroo was feeling fuzzy earlier, but now he’s stumped and irritated at the scene taking place. Kenma never motherfucking ever hugged someone, let alone a girl. A smoking hot girl who, ironically, he’s pining after. Is something between you and Kenma that he doesn’t know about? You seem to share a deeper bond that he’s not aware of.

He’s counting the seconds in his head. When the hell are you two gonna stop this mushy touchy session?

He exhales when you finally broke off from the seemingly not ending contact.

“Wow! And I thought I was rich.” You say jokingly.

“You still are, y.n. By a lot more.”

You ignore Kenma’s last remark and let your eyes travel at his new home. Kuroo can tell what you’re thinking. He thought the same at first. It was big and homey, but a little too humble for his pay grade.

“When did you move?”

“Two days ago.”

“You should’ve told me. I could’ve hooked you up to other options.” Yep. You do share a similar opinion.

“Like Roppongi Hills?”

You look at Kenma inquisitively. “Hmm. Yeah! That’s actually where I live.”

“Kuroo told me the same thing. I wonder why.”

You and Kenma look at him simultaneously. “What? It was cool. You should see her unit. It screams ‘I’m hella loaded’.”

“Maybe I should. Can I drop by some time, y.n?”

Tsk tsk. Unfortunately for Kenma, you’re way too uptight about the privacy of your home. He practically had to force himself in. And he only stayed less than 10 minutes cause you were so uncomfortable and on the edge the whole time.

“Sure! Tell me when. I just finished unpacking my stuff.”

What.the.actual.fuck. Are you shitting him right now? With him, you were all ‘JuSt a PeeK oK?’ but with Kenma, you might as well throw a freakin tea party when he visits.

“Oy, y.n. Why is it okay with Kenma but you couldn’t wait to kick me out when I was there?”

“Uhh.. Ermm.” Your eyes drift around the room, obviously thinking of an excuse. It better be a good one because this is bullshit to him.

“I’m just kidding. I like this best. I don’t need the fancy stuff.” Kenma blurts out.

That made him snap out of it. He let out a deep breath to calm himself down. You laugh nervously but still avoid any eye contact. He turns to Kenma and finds a subtle grin on his friend’s face. It was nothing worth noticing, it only looks like a lazy smile, to a normal person that is. But he has known Kenma since childhood. That was far from a subtle grin. That was the grin of a plan being executed well.

He never told the guy what was going on between you two back then. And even before something beyond than sexual relations took place, you left, so he didn’t see the point in telling Kenma. But of course the former brain of Nekoma isn’t just for games. He has already been figured out even without saying anything.

And just now, he was being played at. Kenma was deliberately baiting him until he does something out of jealousy that could possibly advance his relationship with you. He’s almost touched at the idea, but it’s too twisted for his taste.

He moves to where Kenma is and heavily puts an arm around him.

“Ayt. Scrutinize his house all you want. We’re movin to his game room.” He drags Kenma before you could react. He strides longer to create some distance between them and you.

When you’re out of earshot, he speaks in a piped down voice.

“Since when did you know?”

“Even before you did.” They’ll have a discussion for that later, but he needs to get to his point before you catch up.

“You don’t have to do anything. I can handle this.”

Kenma gives him a disagreeing look. “This has been going on for too long. It’s getting painful to look at you two.” Since they no longer spend as much time together, he sometimes forgets that Kenma is frighteningly intuitive.

“Heh. Don’t worry about it.” He already made up his mind about it the other night. He’s just going to verbalize it for his friend to hear.

“She will be mine.”

–

Work has increased more than you’ve expected. Because of your international experience, you’ve been getting more and more offers. There were days that you’ve been in two to three shoots in a day. That didn’t happen when you were in the US. Yes, you like being busy, but it’s beginning to be too much.

It’d be weird to say that you crave for a work-life balance, since you don’t really have that much of a life. Whenever you’re free, you try to get together with Kenma and Kuroo, but Kenma’s almost never free these days. Because of it, you develop a certain appreciation for Kuroo because in contrast, he always takes up your invites. Though they’re nothing big, just casual dinner, casual chat, and then he’d drive you home. Still, it was some sort of break from work. Kuroo’s become your go-to breather when things get hectic.

At first, you’re a bit wary to spend too much time alone with him. He’s Kuroo Tetsurou, your scheming ex-fuck buddy. He might pull something similar to what he did in the coffee shop, so you’re always on guard. But so far, he’s been behaving. The conversations you usually share are work-related and the times you spent in American and him in Japan. That’s all. He barely even touches you, so you feel stupid for being so cautious.

K.O

The videogame prompt brought you back to the present. You realize you were only absent-mindedly pressing the buttons while your mind was floating ingame.

“Are you even trying, y.n.? You suck more than usual today.”

“Ha ha.” You laugh monotonously at Kuroo’s insult. You put down the controller and leaned back. You stare blankly at the ceiling. “Work’s turned me into a noob.”

You feel him shift his weight in the soft cushion, so you look at him. He puts an arm on the backrest of the couch and pulls in his left leg so he can face you. He’s wearing a loose black muscle tee that did its job perfectly. You see his toned biceps stretched out. You’ve almost forgotten how immaculate he looks underneath that suit he’s always wearing. The outline of his toned chest is also more prominent because of the thin fabric. What about his thighs? They must be as glorious as the last time you straddled him.

What are you doing? Were you seriously gawking at him just now? Your eyes almost dropped down to his lower half if you had not caught yourself. Did he notice? You pray to whoever’s in charge out there that he doesn’t. You won’t hear the end of it if he did.

You focus on his face instead, but it doesn’t help. Your mind can’t stop thinking how ridiculously sexy of a man he is. That’s saying something since you’ve worked with international male models.

God, the lack of sex for almost a year must be hitting you only now.

“That’s just an excuse.”

“What?!” You flip from your seat. Did you say that out loud unconsciously? You’re tired, but you won’t slip up like that.

Kuroo grins from ear to ear. How could he not notice? You didn’t even try to be discreet about it. He’s sure you were thinking of something sexual based on your agitated reaction. And also, it’s still engraved on his mind how you look when you’re horny. Although, it wasn’t explicit, you gave him that look. You want him.

Oh man, he’s tempted to do something about it. Very tempted. He’s willing to bet his car that if he made his move now, you’d actually let him. He just needs to get rid of the tiny space separating you two and he can touch you, feel your softness, trace the silkiness of your skin with his hands, and … ah no. He shouldn’t. He can’t lose control now. He’s been playing nice and keeping his hands to himself for a while, and he’ll keep doing so until you completely put down the walls you’ve held up against him. He can’t lose sight of his true goal, and that is for you to want him beyond sex. If he fucks you now, that might be jeopardized. No can do. He needs you to know that to him, you’re more than just a bed warmer, than just a friend.

Rather than teasing you for being so worked up, he comments on your disarrayed state.

“Work’s really whacked your brain, huh?”

You stay still for a few seconds, then groans harshly. You put your hands on your face and squeal, probably your way of releasing some pent-up stress.

“Yes! God, they just keep on coming. And I just want to relax you know. Like come on. Give me a break! I only have one body. And yes I get it that it’s up to me if I accept the job. But then it’d be a waste to refuse since I’m only starting to be known here. Can they at least not have the same schedule?”

He stares at you having your monologue and starts to feel bad for you. You never had this kind of episode even at your busiest days in university. You had good time management, but now you really are a wreck. No wonder you were carelessly eyeing him a while ago. You’re too drained to keep yourself in check. It was good to know though, that deep inside you still desire him, despite the no-sex barrier you established. Still, it troubles him to see you like this.

“Turn around,” he tells you.

“Um. Why?”

“Just do it. I’m doing you a favor, mkay?”

You glance at him doubtfully, like he’s planning to do something shady. This he laughs at.

“I’ll just give you a back massage. It’s the least I could do.”

Your eyes gleam at what he just said. “Wow. Who knew you were this thoughtful?”

“Shut up and turn around.” You comply.

“Hmm. You should take off your shirt.”

You fiercely look at him from the instruction he just gave, verifying that he is indeed going to do something suspicious. “Say what now?”

He replies with a haughty smirk, “I’ve seen you without anything, y.n. Seeing you in your bra doesn’t mean shit.”

You were about to flip. But he has a point. Also, the massage will feel better without your shirt. You sigh as you pull up the white shirt you were wearing. You slouch to cover your front. You do have your bra on and it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but still. You feel exposed.

‘This is a bad idea,’ you thought.

Kuroo thinks so too. Seeing your bare flesh like this makes him want to put into actions what he was just fantasizing earlier. He shouldn’t have suggested it.

To shake it off, he shook his hands in the air, literally, before placing a firm grip on your shoulders. You tense up at the contact, making your shoulders more stiff than they already are.

“Can you fucking relax?” he snaps. But he meant that to himself more than you. You still heed his direction anyway. When he feels you loosen up, he kneads the tautness in your muscles. Your eyes closed shut as he works on your shoulders for a bit.

“Mmmm,” you groan in relief.

He moves his hands on your arms, applying just the right amount of pressure to alleviate the tension in your body. You sat up straight when he found the rhythm and motion you liked. He tries to focus, but he constantly betrays himself. The plumpness of your chest is now for his viewing pleasure. That and your slightly parted lips and closed eyes aren’t helping the budding arousal in his shorts.

He accidentally squeezes harder which makes you throw your head back and,

“Ahhhhh”

At that moment, he can confidently attest that this is what hell is. Pure fucking torture.

He stops massaging your arms and pushes to make you slouch again. But he unknowingly does it a bit forcefully from the testosterone coursing in his body.

“Heey!”

“My bad,” he says coldly.

He continues on to your back, but does it more gently this time. He might hurt you if he’s not mindful of his strength.

From the absence of the sinful scenery, he thought he was finally safe from the lust about to rage in him. But you provided a different temptation this time. Your uneven breathing is loud enough for him to hear. Your tiny moans tainted the air, filling his head of images of you under him, writhing in a different kind of pleasure, one that will wrench out a louder, wilder moan.

“Harder, Kuroo”

His dick follows obediently. He feels his restraint ebbing away at every passing second. Damn it. He’s glad you’re enjoying this, but why the fuck does he need to suffer for it. Nuh uh. You need to have a taste of what he’s having as well.

He pulls you so your back is against him, your head resting on his chest. No complaints were heard from you. You probably thought he’s still massaging you. Well, he is, but with some extra service.

His hands move to your nape. He gives it gentle strokes with his thumb.

“That feels good,” you whisper.

“Does it now?” he answers with his voice a bit deeper than usual.

He replaces his thumbs with his middle fingers. Instead of rubbing, he slowly trails both fingers up to the back of your ears. Your reaction is immediate. You gasp as your body suddenly braces up. But he expected it. He knows those were your sensitive spots.

“Didn’t I say relax? I’m going to massage your head now.”

You abide quickly and lose the stiffness. You probably thought you just misunderstood the gesture.

He proceeds to rub your forehead with his fingers while his thumbs circles the back of your head. After a while, he caresses the sides of your face down to your neck. He does it like it’s part of the massage, until he’s delicately stroking you more than actually massaging. You remain still, but with every stroke, he feels your body getting warm. He also sees the goosebumps in your skin.

Oh yea. Precisely as he wanted.

He won’t do anything further than this, but he still has to add that cherry on top of his little seduction game.

His left hand stays on your neck while his right hand cards your hair through his fingertips. And exactly how he remembers you liking it, he fists his hand and tugs your hair.

“Hnnnnn” It was clear and crisp to him. That moan is the carnal kind that he’s been wanting to get out from your pretty mouth.

You should be yelling at him, telling him off, but you got so lost in it. Somewhere through it, you figured out that it was no longer a harmless massage. But it felt good. You couldn’t stop him. You reasoned with yourself that it was okay since technically, it’s still nothing. You aren’t even touching him, so you let yourself feel what small pleasure you could attain from it.

But the way he pulled your hair, it stirred up something in you that you’ve been suppressing arduously. And right now, at this moment, you’re willing to throw away your ‘just friends’ nonsense that you, yourself set up.

You’re about to face him when a loud thud catches both of your attention.

It’s Kenma who dropped his Switch on the floor while gawping at you and Kuroo. It clicks in your head how you two looked. You, on your bra, pressed against him with his hand on your hair.

Instantaneously, you move away from him and take your shirt to cover yourself with it. Your short-circuiting brain overlooks the fact that you should put it on rather than shielding yourself with it.

A blushing Kenma picks up his console from the floor.

“You shouldn’t have invited me if you had other plans” grumbling while heading for the door.

Part 5 | Part 7 | m.list

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #kuroo #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo fanfiction #kuroo fanfic

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two-simps-and-a-google-doc · 3 years

Text

Tiny Galaxies

Chapter 5

Chapter one Chapter two Chapter three Chapter four

Pov: both

Ship: intrulogical

Tw: self deprecation, being forgotten, mention of bashing heads in, slight touch starvation, kissing

Let us know if we missed anything!

Word count: 857

"Hell yeah I do!" Remus said, pulling up a chair and sitting across from Logan. Logan took a deep breath, steadying himself.

"So it started a bit after the first couple episodes. I was giving my points but I was beginning to be...ignored. I decided to keep giving my points and information but all that ended up happening was that I would be told to slow down or that I was being "too much"," he said, using air quotes.

"So, I started looking for alternative methods. Ways to get my point across that would work better than simply saying them out loud. It worked for a little bit, especially in your introduction video, but it still reverted back to me being ignored. I even tried making my contributions optimal but even those were seen as intrusive and...ignorant.

"Then Janus came in. He did such a good job at making the others listen, proving his points and taking action. He did it better than me. He proved my own points. They listened to him and now...they accept him. Janus made my points heard better than I ever could. He's much better suited as Logic than I am. What is Logic if he can't be logical?

"But it didn't stop there. I was beginning to be ignored outside of videos. It started in conversations, the others forgetting I was there. Then it went on to movie nights. Despite them being mandatory, Patton still personally invites us all to join. Until he stopped inviting me. I found out one night when I went to get a small snack and saw them watching a movie. It would have been fine, I'm not much of a movie person, if it had not been for Janus. He was in my spot on the couch, leaning on Patton and smiling. Or, well the equivalent of smiling in regards to Janus. It made me feel...something. I don't know but it wasn't good. But then, last night, they forgot to invite me to dinner. Dinner! I didn't even realize it until I was going to bed. I-I don't know what's wrong with me. Why-why can't I just be normal? Why can't I-I just be heard? Be listened to? Be…," he paused, feeling his eyes start to sting. He steadied his voice, it coming out quiet and soft.

"...cared for."

Remus exhaled. He wasn’t good with all this- sappy stuff but he had to try.

"Tch...guess I am gonna have to bash their heads in. Logie, look, you’re doing a good job at being Logic," he said, voice the most sincere the logical side had ever heard. He placed his hand on Logan’s shoulder.

"There’s nothing wrong with you, you don’t have to be emotionless for them to hear you. If they won’t, then I will. I’ll care for you, I swear on my life that I will. They’re all sons of bitches anyways!!" He exclaimed, giving Logan an encouraging smile. He hesitated before wrapping Logan in a hug.

"You’ll be heard. I promise."

Saying Logan was shocked would be an understatement. Remus, despite not being the best at “sappy stuff” actually...cared? He froze in his spot as Remus’ arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace, the kind of warm you feel after snuggling into a blanket on a cold day. He melted into the hug like ice, slowly wrapping his arms around the other as well. This was his first hug in...a long time.

Logan couldn’t find the right words, if there even were words to express his feelings with. He settled with a simple phrase that said everything he wanted to, “Thank you. I- thank you…”

He hugged a bit tighter, careful not to squeeze any more than he needed to.

“No problem, Specs,” Remus said, playing with Logan’s hair.

Logan melted into the touch even more, a little smile gracing his face. It’d been months since the last time he felt like this, maybe even years. He felt...safe. Secure. Comfortable. Cared for. He let out a small humming sound, content with the feeling.

After seemed like forever, Remus let go.

“...Er..uh….can I...try something? It won't hurt I promise-!” he stuttered out, nervous.

“Uh...sure. I suppose you can try something,” Logan replied, slightly, no, scratch that, highly suspicious.

“Okay,” he let out a breath of relief. “Okay…”

Remus hesitated, looking unsure. Then, he kissed Logan. It wasn’t a sloppy kiss but...love-filled and sweet. Logan sat there, surprised. This-this was a new feeling. He kissed back, hands coming up to cup Remus’ face, pulling it closer. It was sweet and strong, as if they had been yearning for this for years. It was warm, a different kind of warm. It was similar to the hug but...better. More...fulfilling. There came that feeling again, the one in his stomach. He had felt it before, but only when Remus was around. He figured he quite liked the feeling.

He smiled a bit into the kiss, feeling Remus’ hands slide around his waist. For the first time in a long time, he was happy.

Taglist:

@bluerosesbleedred @genderfluidmoma @pansexualpuppet

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nemobookaholic · 3 years

Text

FrostIron Part 1

So I volunteered to write a FrostIron fanfic for @belligerentmistletoe , please let me know what you think. I’m always open to honest critique.

I hope it is going to be as much fun to read as I had writing it. Please excuse any typos or weird phrases, I’m not a native speaker.

Had to split it, cause I’m unable to write less than 6k it seems 🙈 I have to remind everyone, that I don’t own any rights to the characters. You read that on your own responsibility. Its a ship, so I don’t have to tell you what can and probably will happen. No violence to it tough. Enough talki-talki, enjoy.

LokixTony

We are at an alternative Timeline, in which Loki joined the Avengers, after he came to earth together with Thor. Thanos never interfered, so we find Loki wandering the Avengers Tower.

All the halls looked the same to him. He lost orientation some time ago, yet he would never admit that. Not to the people who crossed his path, with their ghastly looks and the mistrust they didn’t bother to hide. And when Romanoff and Barton turned the corner, he slipped into the next door hastily.

Loki found himself in a big room with large windows and a bar in it. The light was dimmed and in front of the counter he noticed a figure leaning onto it. Loki stepped closer to see who that was, it turned out to be Stark. And because the god had no other plans he decided to join him.

“I’m still waiting for that drink,” Loki said, sitting down on a barstool next to Stark.

The mechanic was staring at an empty glass, playing with it, as if he would think about what decision to make.

“Your bad, I stopped drinking a long time ago,” Tony answered after a while, as if he would just realise the presence of the god.

“Then why do you look like you would yearn for one?”

“That’s none of your business,” Tony said, turning away gazing out the window.

“Hard day, hmmm? May I help myself to a drink?” Loki asked politely and Tony nodded absent minded. The god made his way round the counter to get himself a glass, which he filled with whiskey. He sat back to his former place and sipped from his drink now and then. The two men sat in silence for some time.

“You know that nearly the whole crew was against having you in the team?” Tony interrupted the quietness.

“I didn’t expect anything else,” Loki shrugged his shoulders, “what is your opinion on the matter?”

“Hmmm,” Tony started playing with the glass again, “to be honest, I’m not happy either. But as I have experienced it myself, I know that people have the capacity to change.” He scratched his head, “I think you deserve a second chance. Anyway, that doesn’t mean I would trust you,” he admitted.

“Fair enough,” the god emptied his glass. “So what made you hide in here? Did Rogers ask for a private conversation?” Loki chuckled.

Tony groaned, “it’s my fathers birthday.”

“And you have no ambitions to get to see him?”

“He’s dead. Steve’s friend ensured that and like you, he’s part of the team now.” Tony dropped his head into both his hands, “seems like everyone deserves forgiveness, even mass murderers. No offence.”

“I’m sorry for your loss Anthony,” said Loki. If Tony would have looked up, he would have seen that the god wasn’t.

“No need to be sorry. Howard was an asshole,” Tony slammed his fist onto the table.

“Then why do you even bother?” Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Would you not, if someone killed your parents?” Tony mumbled the words to his glass.

“I would give everything to get my mother back and to bring revenge for her death. For the Allfather? I would send a letter of appreciation,” Loki smirked. “Unfortunately I have to send it to myself.” The god wasn’t in full control of his facial expressions and for once more they proved him a liar. Tony gave no reaction to it, so Loki felt encouraged to go on. “He was a miserable father most of the time. You know, kidnappet me from my realm. Promised me a throne that he never intended to give to me,” the longer he talked, the more agitated he got. “I never understood why he took me away from my home in the first place. To make me feel like a freak, once I discovered my true nature?” Slowly the illusion slipped away. His skin turned blue, the eyes red. When he realised he had unmasked himself, he turned back to his human appearance in an instance.

“In the end he was just an old man full of regrets,” Loki ended his monologue.

Tony let out a loud snore.

“Anthony?”, Loki asked in surprise.

“He’s asleep Sir,” a bodiless female voice informed him.

“Thank you for pointing out the obvious,” Loki rolled his eyes, “well, I’m sorry my story seemed to bore him that much.” The god jut his chin forward.

“If that’s a comfort Sir, he was tired the whole day. The fight with Miss Potts made it even worse,” Friday explained.

Loki slid down the barstool and stepped towards Tony.

“Can you explain to me how to find his bedroom?” he asked.

Friday gave him directions, while Loki lifted Tony into his arms. He just hoped that nobody would see him. Not because he would be ashamed of carrying another man, but because of the general distrust that was brought to his person.

The AI woman followed him, to assure that her boss would make it back to his room safely. Not even a humanoid person trusted him, if that wasn’t good news!

Carefully the god placed the fragile human into the sheets. Loki kneeled down to untie Tony’s shoes and placed them on the ground.

He even ensured to pull the blanket over the mechanic's body.

Loki hesitated a second, somehow he liked Stark. With a soft touch to his fingertips he brushed some stray hair out of the other man's face.

Loki turned away and made his way back to the bar. He felt the urgent need for a bottle of wine, or better two.

***

Tony opened his eyes, because the sun was beaming directly into his face.

How did he even get to bed? He couldn’t remember.

“Friday, please tell me I didn’t do anything stupid yesterday night?” he asked into the void.

“No sir. But I’m afraid your company has,” she answered.

“My comp—oh fuck! I was with Loki, wasn’t I?” he didn’t bother to wait for an answer, “where is he now?”

“Shop floor,” was the hesitant answer.

“You let him in?!” Tony flared.

“Mr. Laufeyson has been very charming,” came the snippy answer.

“How could he charm you, you’re not even a real person,” Tony grumbled.

“But he treated me like one.”

“Remind me to look over your coding,” he said.

“Yes Sir.”

Tony made his way through the maze of floors on the Avengers Tower until he reached his sanctuary. When he stepped inside his feet shoved a bottle on the ground. It slid away, crashing into more empty glass.

“What the fuck?” he raised his arms in disbelief.

The scene was like a bad comic. Loki lay in the middle of the room, surrounded by wine bottles. The gods head popped up when he heard Tony enter.

“Aaaanthony,” he beamed at the new arrival.

“Are you drunk? I didn’t think it was possible, according to how much Thor can drink,” Tony slapped his hands onto his cheeks and let them slide down his face.

“He had about twenty bottles Sir,” Friday informed him.

“Twenty?!” Tony looked onto the mess on the floor, “and why did he drink them in here?”

“I couldn’t find the corkscrew,” Loki babbled.

“And so what? You decided to use a hammer instead?”, Tony shouted, which made Loki twist his mouth in pain.

“It was a screwdriver to be accurate,” Loki corrected him.

“How did that even work?” Tony was shaking his head, “anyway, don’t you have a place to go back to?”

“Of course, it seems like I’m the guest who stayed too long. My apologies, I’ll leave immediately,” Loki pushed himself back onto his feet. Not without some effort to keep his balance.

“If you give me the address, I can call you an Uber,” Tony offered, without hiding the annoyance in his voice.

“No need for that,” Loki assured, pointing at his boots.

Tony looked at him, as if the god had lost his wit.

“Darling, would you mind opening a window for me?” Loki asked the ceiling.

“Not at all Sir,” Friday answered. Instantly one of the big windows slid open. Meanwhile Tony had crossed his arms, watching the scene in disbelief.

Loki clicked his heels together like little Dorothy and started walking on thin air. His seven league boots had proved great benefit to him over the years.

“Those god’s and their magic stuff,” Tony mumbled to himself jealously, looking at the god’s back. “Uh-oh,” he gasped, the second Loki reached the window. The god had stepped way too close to the ceiling, but as he had turned his head to give a superior smile towards Tony, he didn’t see the mural. His head collided with the wall and he fell over backwards. With a nasty sound, Loki smashed onto the ground.

“Oh for heaven's sake, Thor is going to kill me!” The mechanic ran to the god’s side, checking if he was fine.

“Vital signs stable Sir,” Friday informed him, “I scanned his body, it’s nothing but a cut on the forehead.”

“Fucking drunkard,” Tony had troubles not to slap Loki while he was already on the floor.

“Ouch—where did that mural come from?” Loki said with a raspy voice.

“It was there all the time you jerk,” Tony was rolling his eyes.

“Maybe I better take that Uber?” Loki rubbed his forehead, smearing blood all over it.

“First of all, we need to look after this cut,” Tony commanded.

“It’s nothing. I don’t want to bother you any longer Anthony,” Loki said, getting up again.

“You stubborn…” Tony began.

“It will heal,” Loki interrupted him.

“Yes, after you spilled blood all over the floor,” Tony grabbed him by the shoulder. With one fast move he had sprayed something onto the cut. It cooled the throbbing wound in an instant which took Loki by surprise.

“What was that?” Loki asked.

“Something to close the cut. Now tell me where your brother is?”

Loki was shrugging his shoulders, “I don’t know.”

“Didn’t he tell you where he wanted to go?”

“No—by chance I would think he’s stalking Miss Foster again,” a smirk appeared on the god’s face.

Tony hid his face in his hand, he had no clue Thor expected him to play babysitter. “You can stay if you want to,” he sighted.

“I’d prefer to sleep in my own bed.” Loki was brushing his bloody hands on his pants.

“Fine, I’ll drive you!” Tony snapped at him.

“Please, I don’t want to be a burden for you. I’ll find my way back home on my own,” Loki bitched back.

Tony ignored him, “Friday, make sure the Audi is waiting for us.”

“Yes Sir.”

***

Loki’s flat was surprisingly ordinary. Tony would have expected it to be an opulent palace with shiny gold statues showing the god’s counterfeit. One could almost call it minimalist. There wasn’t even much furnishings but a sofa opposite a TV and a big bookshelf covering the wall next to the door. That’s all Tony could see when stepping in. There was a corridor to his right but he felt uncomfortable exploring it without permission.

The polite god had had a feeling that there wasn’t any chance to get rid of his Nanny, so he asked Tony in.

Loki offered him a place on the sofa, but the mechanic disliked sitting down, he preferred to browse the bookshelf.

“Make yourself at home, please. The kitchen you’ll find next door, if you want something to drink. If you could excuse me for a while, I need to have a shower now,” Loki said, disappearing down the corridor.

Tony was fascinated by the books, some of them were written in languages he had never seen before. But also there were many classics he did know, like Shakespeare (at least it must be familiar to Asgardians, as they used this sort of language), Dante, Goethe and many more. Tony randomly grabbed one of the books and pulled out an old, leather bound copy of the Norse Myths.

‘Why would Loki want to read his own tales?’ Tony wondered. He made his way to the sofa and sat down, flipping through the pages. He found notes, scribbled in a child like writing to the side of the text.

One said: ‘After studying Shakespeare, I wonder if he used Valstagg as a role model for his Falstaff? Utter fun.’

Tony was frowning his brows. He had read the Myths before, yet he was interested in seeing them through the god’s eyes, so he started from the beginning. At some point Loki came back in, bringing with him two freezing cans of Coke. He handed one to Tony, when he sank into the pillows next to him.

The mechanic didn’t even bother to look at him, missing the fact that Loki was wearing nothing but boxer shorts. Loki sipped his drink, watching Tony with some interest. After a while he placed the can onto the small table in front of him and let his body sink deeper into the sofa. Loki’s head tipped over to the back, leaning against the wall. He had dark spaces underneath his eyes, the twenty bottles had taken their toll him. Loki fell asleep.

Tony wouldn’t have realised that either, if Loki didn’t sink onto the mechanics shoulder.

“Hey,” Tony tried to push Loki away with one hand. With the effect that Loki’s head landed in Tony’s lap, what made him look down at the god.

“Sweet Jesus, couldn’t you find a T-Shirt?” Tony shifted uncomfortably. Never had he imagined the guy would be so heavy. There was no chance to free himself. Tony sighted, finally he made himself as comfortable as possible and read on.

He was absorbed by the story, when, without his doing, Tony’s hand found its way into Loki’s hair, running his finger through it. The mechanic did that quite a while, until Loki turned around facing the opposite side. Tony got aware of what he was doing. Shocked, he stared at his hand.

Did he just pet another man?! And why did it feel so natural?

He shook the thought off. That was all because of the fight with Pepper, he told himself. He should phone her and apologise. But at this very moment he had no intention to do so. His attention was focused on the god in his lap. Observing Loki’s face this close for the first time, he realised how young he looked. That there was some sadness to it, but also an innocent peace in his sleep.

Tony felt the urge to trace Loki’s cheekbones with his index finger.

Trying to resist, he couldn’t tell how much time had passed. The light was fading slowly, when Loki opened his eyes again. He looked surprised about the delicate situation he found himself in.

Tony was bowing over him, with his face so close that Loki could feel the other man's breath on his cheek.

“Uuuhm, Anthony?” he whispered.

That woke Tony from his rigidity, he shied back.

“You wouldn’t wake up…,” he tried to explain, yet he couldn’t help but stare at Loki’s lips.

What the fuck was wrong with him?!

“I need to pee,” Tony stuttered just to get away from Loki.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the god sat back up.

In an instant Tony was on his feet, heading towards the bathroom. It wasn’t a lie that he had to pee. The Coke wanted to leave his system.

Fiddling for his zipper he froze.

That couldn’t be true! Did he build a tent in his trousers for a guy who once tried to kill him?

Even worse, did Loki realise he had?

Tony felt panic creeping up his chest. Taking some huge effort, he fought the panic down, forcing himself to empty his full bladder.

The mechanic flushed the toilet, turning around to wash his hands. He splashed cold water to his face, tearing out his hair with wet hands.

Tony was desperate about his unusual behaviour. How had Loki managed to charm him? It must have been a spell, there was no other explanation to this awkward situation.

‘I am a straight man, I am a straight man, I am a…’ Tony kept repeating his Mantra.

Well of course there had been some experiments in College, but nothing that ended up to be serious.

When he found he had cooled down, he went back to the living room.

“I just got a call, I need to leave,” he told Loki, staying away as far as possible. He turned towards the door, his fingers already on the door handle, as he felt the god’s hand closing on his wrist, holding him back.

“Uhm, you’ve been my first guest…and, I…thank you for visiting my place,” Loki said, looking at the floor.

Tony opened his mouth in surprise. This day couldn’t get any weirder.

“Thanks for having me,” Tony replied with a little smile, “I really have to go now,” he insisted and Loki let go of his arm.

***

Stark had been in such a hurry to leave, that Loki wondered if he had done something wrong. He was laying on the sofa again, breathing in Tony’s scent that was still lingering there. It reminded the god of machine oil and iron with something fruity to it, but Loki couldn’t figure out what it was.

Did Stark intend to kiss him?

Loki couldn’t tell. The only thing he knew was that he would have allowed him to, this very moment. He wanted it as he saw Tony’s eyes resting on his lips. That’s what worried him most. What would Thor say, if he’d know?

Probably something like: “I knew Stark first,” that made Loki laugh deep down in his throat.

At times he missed his brother, yet he knew why Thor left him here. The god of thunder wanted Loki to get along with everyone on his own. And Thor had to care for New Asgard of course. But they had agreed not to give away too much about it right now.

Loki was the one to stay in New York and keep an eye on the doings of the Avengers.

Yet he wanted to be with Tony for very different reasons.

The mechanic dominated his thoughts and made a new desire grow within him. One he wasn’t sure he ever felt before.

#frostiron #loki x tony #tony x loki #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction #loki #loki of asgard #tony stark #iron man

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ironmandeficiency · 4 years

Text

all over the road

pairing: frankie “catfish” morales / reader

word count: 1345

summary: you and frankie get pulled over.

a/n: first time writing for frankie! and literally any pedro pascal character ever! i’m excited bc i love them both so dang much asdfghjkl, and personally i’m yearning for summer to end so please excuse my yearning for autumn. tagging @scribbledghost and @catfishingmorales who said they were excited for this. here’s the song i listened to while writing

warnings: mild cursing, suggestive themes, getting pulled over

red and blue flashed from behind frankie’s truck. the colors that normally symbolized freedom in that moment meant anything but, the cop’s sirens piercing the crisp autumn air. frankie groaned in frustration and let his head fall back against the headrest. he told you this could happen if you didn’t stay on your side of the truck. but how could he deny you, with the way you were kissing his neck and the hand sliding up and down his thigh.

despite what most logic is telling, you don’t remove yourself from frankie’s side as the officer knocks on the window.

your boyfriend doesn’t make any attempt to move you away from him, instead deciding to try and pretend that nothing was wrong. “good evenin’, officer.” it made you want to laugh and amp up the teasing but you had at least a little bit of dignity.

“good evenin’. license and registration please.”

“of course.”

the officer who pulled you over seemed to be having a decent day, and he also didn’t seem like an asshole. maybe this wouldn’t end in a ticket. he disappeared back to his vehicle to run frankie’s information and as soon as he had reached the back of frankie’s truck, your boyfriend’s lips were on yours.

“i cannot believe you,” he softly laughed into the kiss, “i told you this was gonna happen.”

“how was i supposed to know?”

“you know good and well that if it weren’t for bad luck you’d have no luck at all.” his chuckle followed the phrase he’s often repeated to you. it was an inside joke, a reference to the way you both met.

frankie’s day had been shit and he figured that drinkin’ away his troubles was less illegal than the alternative, so he found himself at the bar. you had been knockin’ drinks back one after another since frankie saw you for the first time at the crowded bar. from what he could tell, you’d been there for a bit and had no imminent plans that involved slowing down. the stool next to you was the only one open and he sat down on it, flagging the bartender to get him a drink.

it was hard to not notice the handsome stranger that had taken a seat next to you. he had a calming air about him that had you slowing down in your chugging of the drink in your hand. “rough day?” it was a simple question yet simultaneously the understatement of the century. you knew it was a question directed towards you, you catching him looking at you in your peripheral vision and not minding it as much as you would have a few drinks earlier.

“you could say that,” you huffed as you finished the last sip of your drink, hand immediately raising to order another. you hadn’t been keeping track but it didn’t matter how many you had, somehow you still hadn’t forgotten the nightmare that was the day’s events.

first you had been blamed for something going wrong at work that was most definitely your fault (it was that bitch becky with the good hair, the one that had been passed up for the promotion you had gotten a few months earlier when you were previously below her in the company food chain).

then, on your way home from what was a terrible day already, you’re rear-ended and sent into the back end of the car in front of you, a nasty gash on your head and now a car that needed repair. the repairs needed were costly and would take a week at the least, and a ride to work wasn’t a sure bet.

you’d never been more grateful that you lived across the street from the bar you now occupied.

he asked you about what made the day so terrible that you were now turning your blood with slight alcohol content to alcohol with a little bit of blood, and you were nearly brought to tears by how genuine he sounded, how concerned he seemed to be over a complete stranger. so you told him all about your terrible day and not even a minute in had him rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“well damn hon,” he sympathized, “if it weren’t for bad luck you’d have none at all.”

that was the start of a friendship that was quick to turn to something more…

which had you in this precarious situation that you were now in. in the side view mirror you could see the officer getting out of his vehicle, but you made no move to take your hand from frankie’s thigh or lips from his neck. frankie knew you were doing this just to taunt him and he wasn’t going to give in by gently pushing you away.

“sir, have you been drinking this evening?”

“no sir, not even one beer.”

“then can you explain why you were in the other lane and hoggin’ the road all the way back from the city limits sign?”

that was the perfect moment to raise your hand a little higher up his thigh and squeezing in that little spot oh so close to the crease between hip and thigh that drove him crazy. he had to fake a cough to hide the moan from the officer, whose eyebrow raised at the two of you.

“well officer, you see this sweet thing here? she’s been teasin’ me since we got in the car. i’m doing my best and i know i’m all over the road, but i can’t help it.”

the officer isn’t impressed. not by a long shot. however, he does acknowledge your presence latched onto frankie. “ma’am, are you wanting to cause a wreck?”

it takes you a moment too long to comprehend the fact that the officer is talking to you. not until frankie’s got your chin in his hands and is pulling it away from his neck to look the officer in the eyes. “no sir, i don’t.” you genuinely meant no harm, that shouldn’t have been a question. part of you was offended at the insinuation but voicing that discontent would do nothing but make it all the more likely that frankie would get a ticket for his driving.

he seemed to be pondering something for a second, studying the two of you intently before speaking once again. “then please ma’am, be a bit more merciful to mr. morales in the future. i’ll let you off with a warning if you promise to not distract him till you get to wherever you’re going.” he was starting to find the situation a bit funnier than he had when he first saw the pickup swerving all over the road.

you quickly nod your agreement to his terms and sit back in the passenger seat, appreciation flowing from your lips and frankie’s as he printed out the warning slip. “you two have a good evening, and drive safe.”

“yes officer, absolutely. thank you.”

with that, the officer left and you were free to go. once the officer was out of earshot, the two of you were cackling at the situation you just endured. it was like it was pulled straight out of a movie or something. wait, movie wasn’t right.

frankie turned the key in the ignition and the radio crackled back to life and it was uncanny the song that came on.

no sir i ain't been drinkin'

i ain't even had one beer

this sweet thing's got me buzzin'

from whisperin' in my ear

just take a peek up in here

at this little hot mess

mister, you'll understand

i'm doin' my best

and i know i'm all over the road...

it was a song. your life had officially become a country song and it was hilarious. the grin on frankie’s face as he recognized the tune had you clutching your sides in a vain attempt to hold yourself together. the hilarity increased when he sang along, shooting you flirty winks the whole time and not bothering to keep any sort of pitch.

#catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #catfish x reader #pedro pascal #triple frontier #frankie morales #catfish #tired soft pilot #i love him #frankie is soft #i love him your honor

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bottlecapbaby · 4 years

Text

Nuka-World Blues | Gage/SoSu

Pairing: Porter Gage/ Fem!Sole Survivor

Word count: 1255

Notes: My first writing for Gage! No one asked, but I delivered. Might be part of a series because god I love him

Warnings: kinda sexual, but it’s just Gage fantasizing a lil. And just a smidge of graphic violence

Sole didn’t like being put on a pedestal, or made into some sort of hero. In fact, it infuriated her. It’s why she refused the position of general for the Minutemen, ducked out of Railroad celebrations early, and didn’t often stick around to see the fruits of their labor. Even when she was married to Nate— and especially when she was pregnant— she felt this invisible barrier between them. Sole knew that she was flawed, like anyone else.

The apocalypse had fucked everyone, but it had fucked her in particular. Turned into a popsicle, husband killed, baby stolen and turned into an old man, and what was she before the war? A fucking lawyer. There was no skill more useless in the lawless, post-nuclear wasteland than that. So why fuck around trying to be nice anymore? It was something she asked herself quite often. Practicing law taught her that people would jump through whatever hoops necessary to prove that they weren’t animals, when they were. 200 years in the future, that hadn’t changed for many people.

When she went to Nuka-World, she wanted to go somewhere new, somewhere she wouldn’t be recognized. And apparently 200 years into the future hadn’t been far enough. A potential raider paradise wasn’t what she expected to find, but it didn’t disgust her as she expected. These people were so wholeheartedly unafraid of themselves— of their animalism, cruelty, manipulative tactics. It was almost beautiful. In a world where strength and skill are always challenged, Sole could actually take pride in being Overboss.

She was, at first, hesitant to take yet another readily offered leadership position. Her introduction to the system of power was with a rigged fight, after all. But upon seeing the raider gang leaders leer and scrutinize her, ready to pounce on any sign of weakness? Well, she strangely felt more comfortable.

———————-

Gage felt like a dumbass, and that was really saying something. When you’re surrounded by raiders, most of whom can’t tell their own asshole from the next guy’s, it’s not hard to think of yourself as the smartest guy for miles. And usually, that’s how Gage thought of himself.

Until the Overboss was involved.

They say don’t shit where you eat, or maybe more appropriately, don’t fuck where you eat. Then again, there probably wasn’t a square foot in Nuka-World where the raiders hadn’t done all three of those things, maybe even at the same time. Either way, it didn’t make Gage feel better about wanting to fuck her.

When she revealed that she was pre-war, he had no choice but to believe it, even without seeing the tacky vaultsuit she had stuffed in the bottom of a bag. She had the curves, the smile, the smarts, the fucking meat on her bones to prove it. They didn’t make ‘em like that no more. It seemed like every new thing he learned about her made her more unlike any woman he’d ever met before. And with that, he felt more temptation.

Until it wasn’t just temptation. He’d never admit it to anyone, least of all himself, but his desires had journeyed beyond just wanting to get his dick wet. Gage had told Sole things he’d never said aloud even to himself, much less another person, and she listened. Goddamnit, she listened. The one thing Colter never did (if he was being generous) and the one thing he’d always wanted. And the worst part? She trusted him too. Told him about her own rich history in the realm of pain, torment, and regret. She shed silent tears and he extended his sympathies. He comforted her.

Which is totally not a very raider thing to do.

Then came the possessiveness. Gage had never particularly liked Mason (the man looked ridiculous, and maybe Gage had his own alpha streak in him), but he had never wanted to butt heads with him as much as he did now. The predatory gaze that subtly raked up and down Sole’s body was not so subtle to Gage. He had to watch her back after all, especially if someone else had their eyes on it. Mags was irritating in her own way before, but her and William’s attempts at getting in the Overboss’s good graces via seduction were infuriating now. Hell, even the rare trade of sadistic smiles with Nisha got him riled up and pissed off at times.

Then? There was the yearning, and this was when Gage knew he was well and truly fucked. At first, his daydreams were of Sole looking up at him while she sucked his cock, how her ass would feel on his hands when he held her against the wall and fucked her until she screamed. Then, how she would look when she came, and how she would beg for him to touch her. Then, how her sleepy weight would feel across his chest, how her smaller, less calloused hands would feel entwined with his. When you’re nutting at the image of someone looking up at you with a lovelorn, adoring gaze, it isn’t about the sex anymore.

So there he was, sitting around like a trained dog at the Fizztop, methodically cleaning his guns and patching up his armor, all while Sole slept just a little ways away. Despite having been asleep for 200 years, she liked to take these afternoon naps. Another thing that, in the eyes of the rookie raiders in the park, made her too soft to be Overboss. She didn’t worry about it. Those who were important knew her strength. She welcomed challenges from the greenhorns, she itched to make examples of them at times. It was that mean streak that kept her popular with the people who were smart enough to stay out of her damn way.

When Colter was around, Gage fucked off pretty much every time he passed out. Wasn’t his problem if the boss got stabbed in the back while he was out cold, not really, not when Colter was as shitty a boss as he was. But the idea of someone sneaking in while Sole was at her most peaceful, most vulnerable? Well, realistically she would use that nasty, freakish blade she kept at her side at all times to pry their ribcage open, but the alternative still twisted up Gage’s guts with worry. So he stayed. If loyalty was a disease, Gage had it terminal.

The radio was on— low volume so as not to disturb sleeping beauty, but still on. But the old raider wasn’t really listening. He’d long since tuned out to focus on Sole’s quiet huffy breathing. Occasionally he’d look over his shoulder at her, and for much longer than he’d ever admit. Her tousled hair was splayed in a halo against the pillow, curling against her cheek.

Oh, to share that bed and feel her warm, soft body against him. To know her touch— carnally, tenderly, whatever way she would give it to him. Him, an old raider, scarred to fuck, missing an eye, teeth rotten, and just generally not a nice guy. Her, a pre-war relic with a penchant for animalistic truthfulness and violence that made her a perfect fit for Overboss. Evidence of a time oft romanticized, and proof that it wasn’t all that great. To those in the Commonwealth, her good looks and good deeds made her the very embodiment of old world blues, in every sense of the phrase. To Gage, she wasn’t afraid to be fucked up and wrong, and that’s what made her so right.

#writing #drabble #nsft #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #porter gage #gage x sosu #graphic violence #just a tiny bit tho #gage x sole survivor

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brandyllyn · 3 years

Note

for the meta asks: 7, 18, 25

OH HI YOU. I luff @michaelperry

7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

I think I'm funny as fuck. I don't know if that's actually true - but I think bickering dialogue - the kind where two people actually like each other and not just spitting hate at each other - is one of my better traits. Also, occasional inner dialogue or descriptions can crack me up.

I also write a lot from the character POV rather than the Reader which I know isn't as common for xReader stories.

The Chapter Four twist. 🤣I did it first in Art of Falling, and now both To sell your love for peace and Harder to Hold. I haven't checked but I probably did it elsewhere too.

I don't know... do y'all agree?

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

So many. A lot of times I'll write an idea that just... goes away by the time what I'm writing gets to that point in the story. Just a few off the top of my head -

In Alabanza Poe and Reader weren't supposed to have any idea who the other was until Reader heard Poe say the word. It was supposed to be all yearning by letter until then.

The first draft of Make Dreams Truths was a full on rape. No just non / dubious consent but actually holding Reader down while she's crying.

In To Sell Your Love for Peace there's a draft where [SPOILERS] Reader actually does end up becoming a prostitute for a variety of reasons - not least of all that Javi made her believe that was sort of inevitable for her. Man, that version was dark as fuck.

Actually, a lot of To Sell Your Love is scavenged from a Sandor Clegane / Sansa Stark fic that never went anywhere.

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

After I post it, usually a week or two later, I got back and re-read it and then read the comments it got. It just makes me smile so much - it's like reading in stereo. Writing itself is fun, but knowing someone laughed or a particular phrase hit them just right makes the whole thing worth it.

When I first started writing again in January, and was writing only for Poe Dameron, I was getting kind of random kudos and 'good work' from people which is really nice - don't get me wrong....

But then @zoriis started leaving me these long rambling comments and she would quote my words back to me and keysmash. No joke, I probably would have stopped writing in late January if it hadn't been for her (and now a few others too).

I always see the thing bandied about of 'writers should write for themselves' which is true enough - but if we follow that logic then I'd never put it out there for anyone else. I'd just write and keep it. I post my work because I want people to see it and hopefully love it as much as I do. And I won't know that unless you tell me.

I also like picking titles. I feel like I'm the only one who loves that part.

Asks are from this post

#now I know why people don't usually send me these #I don't shut up #wow #writing #glad we talked

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lya1989 · 4 years

Text

Peace

An analysis

It’s been a while (months) since I gave my 2 cents on Taylor’s songs. There’s two reasons to this, either the song was pretty straightforward in its storytelling or there are analysis that expressed the same ideas I had far better than I ever could. But I was looking at the annotations and interpretations for ‘peace’ recently and found myself having different takes on it.

Disclaimer: This analysis is written by a queer person so if you’re not into that bye (why are you even on tumblr in the first place)

First Verse

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly this summer, it's clear I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

And it's just around the corner, darlin'

'Cause it lives in me

No, I could never give you peace

The first line immediately sets the timeline/age of the ‘characters” of the song, assuming it’s Taylor and her lover. Coming of age defines as the journey where a youth turns into an adult (around 17 - 22?) This time frame fits nicely into all of her songs that allude to high school imagery eg MAATHP, the love triangle of folklore (which can be viewed with a queer lens as well) and It’s Nice To Have A Friend.

Summer gives more insight on both time and events as well. Many teenagers use the summer break to find love (aka james and the august girl), and in this song, the character “I” who we assume is Taylor, can’t commit to her convictions. Cruel Summer perfectly describes the scenario as if this verse is written in the aftermath of it. CS has a lot of “dangerous” words like ‘knife’, ‘bleed’ and ‘devil’. And the phrase “the worst thing” connects both CS and betty together.

But the thing is, it’s not clear as who is the dangerous one here. Taylor first says that it’s near, which could mean her lover. But then she says goes on to say that it’s lurking around both of them, which suggest a third party Lastly she says it lives inside of her. From these lines I take away that Taylor is afraid of the power her lover has over her, hence they are “dangerous”. She’s also afraid of what others may think about their relationship (eg. media, paparazzi and haters), which are all “dangers” to them and their love. Thirdly she’s afraid of herself for her lover, scared that she might hurt them due to her lack of courage and the inability to give them peace.

“It’s just around the corner” gives me close friends that live close together/in the same neighbourhood (or beside each other like you belong with me mv). It’s very much the friends/best friends to lovers trope, where it’s all about the yearning and the realisation that you are in love. (As a queer woman I can relate to it very much, the reality of this trope is falling for your straight best friend which is why I project all my wishful thinking into the trope)

Anyways, talking about friends got me thinking about INTHAF which is gay. I made it gay - Hayley Kiyoko

All of these interpretation for just the first verse. Whew

Chorus

But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade, ocean wave blues come

All these people think love's for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

The entire chorus draws connections to the songs in reputation and lover.

He built a fire just to keep me warm - Call it what you want

Ocean blue eyes, looking in mine - Gorgeous

I, I loved you in secret - Dancing with our hands tied

Remember how I said I'd die for you? - False God

Devils roll the dice - CS

It’s nice to have a friend - INTHAF

(also You’re my best friend - You Are In love, which is the epitome of the best friend to lovers trope)

I want to quickly point out that the relationship depicted in DWOHT is the total opposite of peace. In peace, the relationship is seen as public, which means everyone knows. People make speculations whether its true love or just a publicity stunt. But she confirms that its true love with her claims of willing to die for them. (Which is ultimate noble move in a love story) In DWOHT their relationship is secret. The only indication the public have of their relationships is them ‘dancing’/being seen together.

In the last line she subverts the idea of having peace/privacy in a relationship. As a celebrity, she’s aware that her love life will be out in the open for everyone to poke and prod and she worries that it’ll scare her lover away. So she turns the lack of peace into a ‘positive’ thing, as if we’ll make it an adventure to climb over together, as long as you are willing (to be with me).

(Also, Victoria’s Secret fashion show anyone?)

Second verse

Your integrity makes me seem small

You paint dreamscapes on the wall

I talk shit with my friends, it's like I'm wasting your honor

And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences

Sit with you in the trenches

Give you my wild, give you a child

Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother Is it enough?

But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west

I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best

But the rain is always gonna come if you're standin' with me

Youareboththebestfriend did an analysis on how the song may be written in her lover’s (karlie) perspective, which does make alot of sense in the second verse, as if Taylor and her are communicating with each other in songs using verses as secret messages.

I know that east and west are about the men in this song, but

Dive bar on the east side, where you at?/Third floor on the West Side, me and you - Delicate

You’re the West village - False God

I want to point out that many took ‘give you a child’ very literally, as seen in how tabloid speculate Taylor being pregnant. (which is far more a stretch than my interpretation) but then again who knows, maybe Taylor do want to have a kid with her lover as a new chapter in her life.

But I’m here to give you an alternative. ‘Give you my wild’ could be Taylor saying that she’ll have moments where she’s ‘mad/crazy’ or any other emotions which is perceive as negative, like throwing a tantrum. With this in mind, connecting this phrase with ‘give you a child’ suggest that she may at times act like a child, whether in terms of innocence or naivety, or outright ‘a brat’.

(being a queer woman, I’m taught and I learned to grow up quickly, to be mature, if not ill get hurt. Because of this, I tend to act childlike as i grow up, as if reclaiming my lost childhood. Idk if anyone else feel this way as well but- there are alot of social issue which shapes this process eg gender roles, infatilisation of women etc its a mess of contradictory methods of oppression)

All my walls, stood tall painted blue - Everything has Changed

You can hear it in the silence - YAIL

Rosé flowing with your chosen family - the 1

Trust him like a brother - CIWYW

All of this songs talks about either young love that stems from friendship or the idea of chosen family (which lgbt people can relate to because not many of their biological ones accept them for who they are)

The juxtaposition between sunshine and rain is also important to note. (one year younger me did a small, brief, cringey compilation/analysis of the rain imagery Taylor used in her previous songs here) In peace, rain leans towards the negative side, the inevitable darker moments she brings due to her fame that will affect their relationship. It’s almost a warning for her lover to brace themselves for the storms.

Chorus

But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade, ocean wave blues come

All these people think love's for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

We have the chorus once again, but this time with repetitive questions. We see the same style of writing in Out Of The Woods and Delicate, which are interpret it as Taylor being nervous/anxious about their relationship, and whether her lover will continue being her lover.

In conclusion/TLDR: maybe it’s easier to understand the song if the sentence was “Would it be enough, if i could give you everything but peace?”

#taylor swift #gaylor swift #kaylor #queer analysis

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