#you guys don’t need to thank me for recognising your talent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

write-and-buried · 2 years

Text

Celestial Navigation

Part 6 - Waning Gibbous

Summary; Whatever happened to that guy anyway?

Warnings; jesus christ listing them makes me want to hide my face under pillows. Oral sex (m!receiving), excessive rimming, cum play, dirty talk, very messy sex, cum eating, spitting, and some discussions of toxic workplaces

A/N; This got filthy... fast. Huge thanks to @astroboots @the-ginger-hedge-witch @radiowallet and @jazzelsaur for encouraging every single whore thot I've ever had

Series Masterlist \\ Main Masterlist

[prev] - [next]

Whatever Happened to Derek Brown?

You couldn’t go to the movies without seeing his face. From the round cheeks and eyes filled with wonder as a child discovering life on other planets from his backyard telescope to the chiselled jaw and sharp cheekbones as a peasant teen in the period drama that won him an Oscar at only 14, Derek Brown was a staple of early nineties cinema.

A clean-cut heart throb, the duelling box office titans of Eric Webster and Derek Brown plastered the walls of teenage girls (and boys) across the nation.

But while you only have to scroll through Twitter to catch a glimpse of Webster’s latest escapades (yacht orgy, need we elaborate?) Brown has been absent from public life for almost two decades. Emancipated at sixteen, running wild through Hollywood throughout his late teens, he suddenly vanished after the death of his parents. What was assumed to be a brief period of quiet mourning has since turned into a mysterious disappearance, fuelled further by Eric’s locked lips on the subject.

“I wish him happiness, wherever he is” the only official statement he’s ever given, referring all other questions about him to his publicist, who parrots the same line.

His sizeable talent notwithstanding, Derek’s disappearance has sparked numerous conspiracy theories about the cocky young stars whereabouts. Every few years an unconfirmed sighting emerges along with a new theory, a monastery in Brazil, a surf instructor in Australia, an extra in the background of Marvel’s latest release. The lack of tax returns, public filings or holdings make most believe he has left the United States and lives a quiet life of anonymity out of the public eye.

With the twenty-year anniversary of ‘Rebel of Owls’ on the horizon, his last, and most famous film, many fans have wondered…

Whatever Happened to Derek Brown?

Buzzfeed News.

“Here it is” Dieter grunts, the sound of falling debris as he pulls a box from the back of his closet. Shining in the lamplight, the statue doesn’t look real. He tosses it on the couch next to you as your eyes scan the slideshow. You barely recognise him, your brain only tickling familiarity as the quintessentially 90s photos scroll across your vision.

Red carpets, cigarettes tucked behind his ear, set photos with the young face of Eric Webster, one of the most famous celebrities in the world, their arms linked around the others neck, brotherly love in all its glory.

ACADEMY AWARD

DEREK BROWN

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR

‘FOUNDERS AND PEASANTS’

“I never saw it” you say, running your thumb across the grooves in the metal.

“Don’t bother. It’s not very good” Derek replies, sparking a joint held between his lips. The flame illuminates his face, and you see the ghost of the boy on the screen.

“I had to wear these stupid lifts in my shoes. I hadn’t had a growth spurt yet, and my voice cracked all over the acceptance speech. Hackman should have won it, for Unforgiven, but I guess the voters thought I was a cute kid with a good story, and that’s what they vote for anyway”

He flops down on the couch next to you, peering at your phone screen to see Eric Webster and him, linked together in the past.

“I met Eric a few years before that. We both auditioned for Judgement Day, but obviously didn’t get it. Became friends and stayed that way. Roared through Hollywood like a couple of young-dumb-full of cum idiots and caused havoc for our agents.”

“That’s why everyone recognised you at the party” Your voice is quiet, the realisations coming to you in waves as he blows smoke rings to the ceiling.

“It happens. But I do have one of those faces, and nobody thinks they’re gonna meet a child actor one day”

“It’s been a secret? This whole time?”

“No… not really” he says carefully. “I don’t hide it. I never legally changed my name, so my accountant knows. My old agent knows, Owen and Molly know. Eric, obviously, he knows too. He visits at Christmas once every few years”

“But I didn’t know” your voice cracks for the first time.

“Hey, no, hey hey” grabs your cheeks, your phone falling into your lap, the screen illuminated as he scrambles toward you.

“How did I break my nose?” he asks, swiping tears from your cheeks as he tilts your face upward.

“You got punched in the face in a bar fight you thought you could win”

“What’s my favourite movie snack”

“Kit Kats”

“What’s my favourite medium?”

“Charcoal… or acrylic depending on the canvas” you’re sobbing now, reaching to touch his wrist as he looks at your face.

“Why do I paint so many stars?”

“You think stories are told there”

“Including ours” he says, brushing a kiss across your mouth. “I didn’t tell you, because that isn’t important to me. That’s a life I left behind, I shed my name and everything about it. It wasn’t me Lou. It was something I did, not who I am, remember?”

You take a deep breath, forcing the tears back as you circle your fingers to feel his pulse.

“Why did Eric call?”

He sighs, pressing his forehead to yours as you stroke his skin.

“He calls whenever he gets a weird question. They ask about me whenever an anniversary is coming up, or when nostalgia is going to help them get more clicks on an article. Usually its just the vague, where is he, stuff that he never answers. But they asked him, through his publicist if he spends a lot of time in New York, and where his favourite coffee shop is. He thinks they might know I own this place. He wanted to warn me.”

“And what happens if they find you?”

“Mayhem, I would guess. If I could do it over, I wouldn’t have vanished, just publicly stepped away. Let it fade in people’s memories and have an ending to the story. That’s what they’re looking for, a satisfying conclusion to the Derek Brown ‘mystery’” he scoffs.

“They’ll come here”

“At least, trying to get a photo. They’ll want interviews and canned sound bites and all that fake bullshit. When they don’t get it, they’ll start digging. Derek Brown might not exist anymore, but Dieter Bravo has been thrown around enough that they’ll get some good stories out of it”

“What are you going to do?”

“What I always do” he grins, “whatever I want”

The scent distracts you, an acrid burning as your eyes flick to the threadbare rug under his coffee table, currently smouldering from a half smoked joint. He follows your gaze and smothers it with a military green croc. When he turns back to you he shrugs, an apology on his face.

You reach out, hooking your pinkie with his own.

It takes four days. A weekend of waiting in an anxious puddle, two days of staring at your spreadsheets with Twitter open on your phone, refreshing the top trending stories and TMZ between each click of the mouse. There aren’t enough interns left for you to fade into the background. Your co-workers ask you repeatedly if you’re okay. Your boss makes you take a COVID test in the bathroom, when it comes back negative, she rolls her eyes and tells you to get back to work.

The first photo of him is grainy. Tousled hair and mismatched socks, sweats rolled over one knee. It’s outside the café, leaning against the brick with sunglasses hooked into his threadbare shirt. You sleep in that shirt sometimes.

It takes an hour for the internet to catch fire. More recent photos appear, Molly and Owen in the background as blurry ghosts as his form is shown painting the walls of the café, or as a hunched figure carrying a mustard yellow armchair down a busy street.

The stories come that evening. People that have slept with him, done drugs with him, snorted lines off his body or had him snort lines of theirs. A woman who shared tabs of molly with crushing kisses in the middle of a silent rave. None of the stories surprise you, he’s told you most of them. They’re good experiences, memories he laughs at, turned suddenly sinister.

His first naked photo hits the internet less than 24 hours later. He’s sprawled on his round bed, cock laying thick and imposing on his thigh as he grins into the camera, offering a cup of unknown liquor to the taker. More follow. They begin to form a narrative, one of a life of pleasure and excess, of unconcerned privilege and recklessness.

Your co-workers begin to whisper that afternoon. You had always assumed watercooler gossip was a trope, overused and never actually happening, until you caught your name in a hushed tone as you walked back to your desk with your fifth, shitty, coffee. There are glances, out of the corner of their eyes you can feel them, pinpricks all over your skin that make you feel itchy, under hot lamps.

You ignore a colleague when he calls your name at 5pm, packing your journal into your handbag you spill into the anonymity of the street. You keep your eyes glued to your phone as you walk, the first of many think pieces about Dieter beginning to appear on TMZ and Buzzfeed, asking what happened to give him such a fall from grace.

You’ve seen the photos from the café, texted by Molly in a moment of peace, full to the brim with fans holding DVDs of his movies, paparazzi with jiggling knees and separate flashes, people taking photos of the paintings on the walls. You haven’t heard from Dieter since it broke, your phone silent except for the reminders for meetings, deadlines, notifications that you once lived by now causing you to grit your teeth as you felt a flush of disappointment.

Your apartment is quiet. The dead plant in the corner seems to mock you as you microwave a poor imitation of macaroni and cheese, your shoes kicked haphazardly across the rug. The sunset is beautiful across the windows outside your apartment, streaking purples and oranges that remind you of his paintings.

Everything feels uncertain. You hover over his contact in your phone as you settle on your couch, too rigid to truly be comfortable, but a stylistic choice in the space. Your phone screen goes dark, giving you a glimpse of your pinched face, the teeth burrowed into your bottom lip. You grab your laptop instead, dragging it and a blanket over your knees as you scroll through the list of classic movies Dieter has mentioned in passing, organised into a spreadsheet.

Selecting one at random, you feel a tug of loneliness at his absence, the stream of consciousness commentary that’s always accompanied these black and white pieces of history.

The colours aren’t mixing right. The contrast not dark enough to make the light glow, dimming the image on the canvas in front of him. He can taste the splinters of his paintbrush as he stares at the unsatisfactory image, the purples in the palette on his arm seeming suddenly wrong. The sunset had looked so beautiful tonight, reflecting off the shining concrete buildings as he sat on the overgrown balcony, listening to the cacophony of the street.

Usually, it was anonymous, the noise below. Horns and screaming and laughter and crying, floating up to him like a symphony he could view from afar, enjoy while staring at the blankness of the universe and wondering how it all came to matter so much it hurts.

But today, his name is the primary noise. Owen and Molly had told him to stay upstairs, as if he had any intention of going down, of allowing them to split him open and feast on the aged flesh. Find a story that only mattered because of a life he willingly gave up.

He wanted to create. It burned like a dying sun inside him for as long as he could remember. Everything itched and scorched until he had a pencil in his hand or a play to perform. Drama club, into auditions, acting into stardom. It was a round peg in an oval hole… right enough to think it worked.

Worked for his parents, anyhow. Supportive but distant, they enjoyed the high society of their sudden famous surname. Never pushing him, never encouraging him, they just were. He can hardly remember their faces now, the scent of his mother’s perfume sometimes caught and followed on the summer air.

Eric had always understood. Standing in line in the same auditions, the blonde hair in perfect spikes, his eyes somehow smouldering at the tender age of fifteen. They ran along parallel lines, his parents shaving down his edges until he was round enough to slide right through the hole. They would sneak off the back lot at Warner Brothers and smoke clove cigarettes, drink whiskey until they were sick and shaking, a makeup artist with glassy eyes giving them eyedrops, breath mints.

Nobody cared, until they did. Until the photos hit the papers, glossy and high def, Dieter on a bar top at eighteen, loops of women’s lingerie collected around his wrist. Eric sucking tequila out of a Victoria’s Secret models bellybutton. Fame and excess rolled together until they were packaged together, saran wrapped for consumption.

They never showed up drunk or high to interviews, they toed the line of playful bad boy together, always yanking the other back by the collar until it stopped being enough. If he dug deep enough, he’d know why he stopped when they died, taken within months of each other, cancer and a stroke. He’d proved enough, they loved him enough, and they were there. Until they weren’t.

He read some of the coverage about his parents’ deaths. The family photo’s he doesn’t remember posing for in contrast to the questions about his morality. Everyone expected him to go off the rails, to join the elusive 27 club and sell pictures of his coked-up face. Everyone would have been sad, and moved on.

Instead, he picked up a paint brush, and bought a cheap canvas at an art supply store. He sat in the back of a rented limousine and ruined the seats with shitty acrylics and painted what the world looked like behind tinted glass. When he left Hollywood, he never had the urge to look back.

He saw this place on the 8th of August. The flat brick exterior with no windows, an old oak door with rusted hinges, tucked between new developments like the least appealing fruit at Whole Foods. It was owned by an estate, nobody wanting it and nobody offering enough to take it off their hands. A grimy shop with a small apartment overhead, the balcony overrun with weeds. His skin had hummed when he touched the brickwork, a promise zapping through his skin.

He didn’t know what it was until you had walked through the door.

Dieter wasn’t expecting you to call. He knows the story has broken, can only imagine what is being thrown around about him on the internet, the conclusions people are jumping to as they dig up more, and more again. He stayed upstairs for most of it, hearing Owens voice boom out against the brickwork, insisting that he wasn’t here, that they didn’t know where he was and wouldn’t say even if they did. He snuck a muffin up an hour later.

He could imagine you now, sitting in your apartment, an empty microwave meal next to you on the couch. Maybe you were watching a movie, you might have been consuming every new article about him – continuing on the trend of the day he assumed. He wondered what you were watching, if his not-so-subtle steering towards Bette Davis had taken root yet, or if you had chosen something mindless, something you’d seen a thousand times and could recite from memory, its words etched on your brain, a script nobody asked you to memorise.

The stories about his family start the next day. Innocuous enough, his parents, his upbringing. They have him in their teeth, it seems, unwilling to let go as his silence begins to annoy. Undeterred by the swirling uncertainty they speculate wildly. His relationship with his parents picked to shreds, interviews and DVD extras dragged forth from memory and replayed on loops. TikTok analysis of his body language, a livestream of someone getting coffee from the shop, the line now snaking down the street.

Owen and Molly are next. A photo of Molly flipping off the paparazzi sparks a new wave of speculating about his chosen family. You giggle when you see she makes it her Instagram profile picture. They find Owen’s friend in L.A – the one who works in porn. Not as an actor, but a makeup artist, and that’s enough for the morality police to come down even harder on Dieter.

They’re ripping him limb from limb, an evisceration in 180 characters, each pillar of his personality smashed to dust with memes and jokes and vicious hatred. Eric cops some of the blowback as well, refusing to distance himself from his friend. There’s a clip of him, drunk at a party, shouting support for his former partner in crime, daring anyone to question him. In a room full of glitzy yes men, nobody does.

It tickles beneath your skin. That everyone cares so much about him while knowing very little. None of the articles mention his paintings. None of them talk about his apparent connection to the human spirit, his obsession with the stars and their stories, classic Hollywood. He could recite the general principles of the Hays code from memory, and he liked to explain all the ways you’d broken them while he licked cum from between your thighs.

He talked until you fell asleep every night, a soothing rumble of a story you’d have never known otherwise. It’s the same feeling from the party, a thousand years and barely a fortnight ago, where they fell in love with an image, only this time it’s the reverse. You haven’t watched his movies, no morbid curiosity to see the cheekbones that could cut glass. It was something he did, not who he was, and it became clearer with every tweet that it wasn’t who you know.

It settles like a dull ache, a burning chasm of loneliness that drags you from your desk at 5pm that day, again. Committing cardinal sin as you close your laptop and leave, not looking over your shoulder for what you once considered vital additional responsibilities. You’re wearing heels today, and the bones of your feet hurt when you reach the building.

There’s still a crowd outside, despite the door being closed. People are taking pictures against the brickwork, jostling for the best light, the capture of the frayed cardboard closed sign that greets them. A few men in jeans with expensive cameras mill off to the side, glancing upwards to the light just visible through his heavy curtains.

You don’t think before you hit his contact. If you strain over the noise, you can hear the foghorn alarm, his ringtone before he picks up.

“I’m outside”

It’s pandemonium when the door opens. Flashes blind you as you feel fingers lace into your own, tugging you inside the door before shutting it with a slam. It barely dims the noise. The bell falls from overhead, cracking into three pieces on the ground as you feel his arms wrap around you, the tension draining from your body for the first time in days as he squeezes your waist, pressing his face into your neck.

“Missed you” is all he says before dragging you upstairs.

He’s covered in paint. Muddy browns cover his hands, sticking through his hair and smeared on his cheek. The canvas in the corner is dripping, long sludgy trails of paint on the floor. You can see the stubs of three joints in it, his palette peeling from the weight of it.

“Couldn’t get it right” he shrugs, following your eyeline to the ruined canvas. “It will happen when it’s supposed to”

His thumb brushes your cheek as you take him in fully. His hair is unruly, his eyes creased deeper than you’ve seen them, his clothing creased and stained. You can smell paint thinner, weed and Makers Mark on him, and you wonder if he’s showered since the story broke.

“Want to take a shower?” you ask, feeling his fingers round brush against your skin

“Together?” he asks, a grin that makes your chest crack breaking his face.

“Wash the paint off first, then we can talk” you reply, the laugh he lets out a shaft of sunlight through your skin. He nods, pressing a brief kiss to your forehead before turning towards the bathroom.

You know where his things are. You know where yours fit in this space, where you leave your bag, kick off your shoes, shed the corporate layers. You know which drawer to dig through for his softest shirts and you pick one that smells just like him to slip on. Your clothes tangle with his in a laundry basket. You know there’s a pile that has clean ones somewhere. You grab fruit from his fridge, a punnet of blueberries and misshapen plums, setting them on the edge of the coffee table as you hear him through the wall, humming under the spray of the shower.

You pick a movie, something in the endless queue and wait, checking your phone and not worrying about its dying battery. You respond to Molly’s questions about her aid relief form, you double tap Owen’s picture on Instagram, the caption something witty about being famous and wanting his dick sucked. You check your email. The sharp one from your boss demanding a meeting in the morning barely makes a dent as you toss the device on the table, stretching your limbs back into the deep couch, waiting for him to emerge.

He brings a cloud of steam with him. His hair damp and curling around his neck, a towel slung low on his hips as he continues humming to himself. His rings catch the light, throwing silver across the walls like stars as he comes to you, seemingly distracted, to grab your wrist and pull you to your feet.

“You forgot this” he says, bringing his mouth to yours.

You’d always broken this into body parts. Lips touched lips, hands clasped hands, the rhythmic sectional breakdown of affection, neatly categorised and labelled as one progressed to another, switched their categories to explore further.

Kissing Dieter is a full body experience, you’ve since learned. From lazy and slow and sleep heavy, to frantic and primal, he kisses you with his whole body. His hands roam your back, tangle in your hair, grab your ass and squeeze your flesh. He mumbles into your mouth, feeding you words like candy as he hovers indecisively between your neck and earlobe, fluttering between the two to scrape his teeth and make your knees tremble.

The towel loosens under the growing erection beneath it as he walks you backwards to the bed. His hands slide under your shirt, tracing over the lines left by your bra as his mouth travels down your throat. He’s consuming, the familiar feeling of being completely overwhelmed by him settling like a weighted blanket on your soul as the damp towel falls free, his encouraging hands pulling his shirt from your body.

“Really fuckin’ missed you” he moans, his mouth travelling across your chest as he backs you right against the rounded edge of his mattress, the sheets and blankets tangled in the middle.

You need more. The days without him have rubbed you raw, left you feeling adrift and furious on his behalf, and feeling his skin on yours, so warm and soothing sparks something deep inside your gut you’re unwilling to name.

“Can I taste you?” you ask, the question feeling ridiculous on your tongue. His hands dig into your skin, you hear his sharp inhale around your chest as his beard scrapes the sensitive flesh.

“As if I’m ever going to say no to that” he says, grinning up at you with a wink.

For all you’ve done together, this is a rarity. He tends towards worship, the focus of his body seemingly on yours alone, save for moments where you manage to catch him off guard, your teeth scraping his hip as he orients his hands on your body, prying you open for spit slicked fingers as you lick the weeping head of his cock.

He throws pillows to the floor before you sink to your knees, his aim precise enough to ensure a soft landing as your hands trail his thighs, encouraging him to sit, the softness of his stomach, the warmth of his skin making you catch alight. His hand is confident, trailing your cheek to the crown of your head, settling comfortably with a broad palm as he watches you, gasping lightly at the scrape of your nail along the sensitive skin of his thigh.

“You can’t fit it all Lou… But I’d love to watch you try”

Heavy. It’s the word that always comes to mind, whenever you take him in hand or feel him thicken beneath or behind you. The veins that run the length of him, pulsing inside you, the drips that leak from the fat head of his cock whenever he looms over you, watching your cunt pulse in wanting.

It flushes darker than his skin, like a storm on the horizon, swollen and tempting as you watch a single shining drop of precum appear at the head, sliding to drip sticky on his thigh. His hand tightens in your hair when you dart your tongue to taste it. Salty and hot, the heady feel of the weight of it on your tongue makes you squirm, your thighs pressing together as you guide him between your lips.

His hand tightens in your hair, a groan escaping his lips as you stretch your mouth around him. He fills you everywhere. The press of him on the roof of your mouth, immediately filling with saliva as you dig your nails into his strong thighs, shuffling closer as he spreads them for you, a low curse and a shifting of the sheets as he grips them in a wide palm.

“Fuck, yes… that’s it” he’s breathless.

You manage a third the first time, your throat protesting the attempted intrusion as you swallow around him, pulling off to watch the thick spit drip from the sides of your mouth, feeling your eyes prick with tears as he reaches to curl a hand around the base of it, holding himself steady for you to resume.

He watches you. His eyes only squeezing shut each time you choke around him, the depraved groan he lets out as you watch his hips twitch, suppressing the urge to fuck into the tightness of your throat, to apply a little more pressure to the back of your head. You’d let him, you’d like it.

Instead he lets you lead, a pool of your spit now dripping over his knuckles as you take as much of him as you can, a steady, slow rhythm as you synchronise your breathing, enough to stave off the tears in your eyes, focused only on the salty, hot taste of him as you feel his skin heat under your palm.

Your jaw aches, the unnatural stretch of him in your mouth as you pull off him, watching as he twitches, the thick vein pulsing as he grips himself tight around the base. With a gentle tug he pulls your head back, makes you meet his eyes as he strokes his length with a lewd squelch of spit and precum, his own wide hand barely fitting around the thickness of him as he squeezes more the swollen tip. You kiss his thighs, his skin still warm and clean from the shower as you scrape your teeth along the soft skin.

“Look at me” he says, his voice gravel rough as you stare past his lazy strokes to meet his eyes, blown dark and focused on you as your mouth travels further up his thighs.

He can do this, he knows how to control himself, has had this same sensation enough times. But the feeling of your breath, ghosting lightly over his skin makes him feel fevered as he shifts, allows your cautious exploration of the crease of his thigh, your cheek brushing his balls as he lifts his foot onto the bed.

You look like you want to ask, as if he’d ever say no to you, and he nods his head before you can find the words. This is new to you, not something you’ve ever ventured towards, despite a forbidden thrill at the thought. Dieter tries to relax, tries to breathe as your mouth travels lower, as the first cautious kitten lick of your tongue flicks across his hole.

The sound he makes is broken, ripped from his chest without permission as he half strangles his cock in response, the sudden locking of his muscles as he sees your eyebrows raise in a smile. You liked it. Slowly, torturously you explore him, every ridge of furled muscle, the sensitive skin of its surrounds as Dieter feels his hair begin to stick to his forehead with sweat. He can’t breathe for how good it feels.

You’re so careful with him, gently coaxing him open with your mouth as he pants and groans, finding exactly what way he likes to be touched, shifting lower to get enough access. He can still see your eyes, watching him as you lick and trace his glistening hole.

“You want to see me lose it don’t you?” he asks, braving a single stroke of his cock, his whole body shuddering from the searing pleasure that races up his spine.

“You’d like it, wouldn’t you, to watch? Or do you want to do it yourself, you want to have me like this, loose and begging for it, fucking myself back onto something just as thick as I am. You want to watch my face? Want to see what it looks like when I get fucked just as hard as I fuck you? I can tell, I can fucking smell your cunt right now, you’re soaked you filthy perfect thing. Don’t you dare stop”

You’re squirming, shifting your slick thighs together as he talks, his hand squeezing his cock in an unsteady rhythm, drops of sweat rolling down his chest as you breach his ass with the tip of your tongue, enough to feel the tight ring of muscle give under your ministrations, swollen and sensitive from your mouth.

“Fuck, don’t fucking stop, please, so good, fuck”

Dieter can’t help it, the barest scrape of your teeth around his fluttering rim and he sees stars. It explodes from the base of his spine with shocking force travelling through his limbs and robbing him of his senses. He comes thick and heavy splattering his stomach and chest, flowing over his knuckles as you lick across his sac, drawing it further, making everything oblivion as he half screams your name.

Your lips are swollen, wet with his cum. Its on your cheek, sliding down in a thick river as you watch him come back to himself, squeezing the last drops from the thick head of his cock. His hand is still in your hair as his eyes swim back into focus, watching you lick the taste of him from your skin. His knuckles are covered in it, and you watch as he releases himself with a wet smack, bringing his hand to his own mouth, collecting it on his tongue.

He leans over you, close enough for his nose to brush your cheek as your lips part for him, feeling him spit his own cum into your mouth as he follows it with a messy kiss. He drags you onto his lap with surprising strength and shaking fingers, and you feel your slick cunt graze against his cock as he tastes himself on your teeth.

You’re desperate, rutting yourself along the underside of his twitching length as you feel his hands grip you, guide your rhythm as your swollen clit catches on the slick head of him, making you gasp into his mouth.

“That’s it, there’s my girl. Use me, get yourself off on me, I want to see you cum on me. Got so wet, so needy from sucking my cock. Wasn’t enough for you was it, next time you want to, I’ll plant this pretty cunt on my face as well, so you can drip down my throat while you choke on me. And I want payback, I’m going to spread you wide open, show you just how good it feels to cum that hard with a tongue in your ass. I’ll stretch you enough to take me one day, get you nice and open and begging for it, hm?”

His hand slips between your own cheeks, slick still with spit and cum as he brushes lightly against your ass.

“You want that? Want me to fuck you here as well, treat me to the sight of your ass swallowing my fat cock while I make you cum on it?”

“Dieter… fuck”

“I know, you’re right there aren’t you. I can feel it, you’re soaking me, you always get so wet for me, just desperate to be filled up properly”

He holds you close when you come, wrapping his arms tight around you and holding you firm to his lap, so that every shudder passes through him as well his mouth claiming yours as you scratch down his spine, seizing in place as he spreads his hands wide across your spine. It’s those same kisses. The lazy, long and slow ones that bring you back to him, each gentle pass of his hands on your skin as he chases your mouth, catches his own breath in between.

“I need another shower now” he says, grinning as he presses his forehead into yours. “You’re coming with this time” You squeal when he stands, wrapping an arm under your ass as he lifts you both with seeming ease.

He’s had less sleep than you, you can tell. His arms wrap around you from behind as he buries you both in blankets, freshly showered on clean sheets as he kisses behind your ear. He insisted on you naked, cupping at your breasts, his hands sliding over your stomach as his breathing slows, the lazy circuit of his hands becoming heavier.

“Dieter…” you whisper, feeling him scoot closer to you, a half-conscious hum of acknowledgement.

“You could leave for real you know.”

“Mm, no” he says, nuzzling closer into your neck. “Your job is here”

“They’re eviscerating you, going after your family, and Owen and Molly and… I don’t know, if you went away for a while, maybe it would die down”

“Won’t” he grumbles, “Do you want me to?”

“No” you answer, the thought of it pulling gravity from your stomach as you feel him smile into your skin. “But you don’t have to put up with it, and if you wanted to… get away from it… I’d understand”

You feel him huff a laugh into your neck.

“They’ll get bored eventually. Find some other scandal and leave me to fuck you in peace. Besides… I’m not going anywhere without you”

It makes tears prick the back of your eyes, some swelling bursting feeling you can’t name erupting in your chest as he kisses your neck again, finding your hand to lace your fingers together.

“I watched Jezebel” You say, clearing your throat of a warm, soothing blockage that heats your insides.

“Oh, that’s a good one. Bette Davis did that one because she didn’t get to play Scarlett in Gone With the Wind. It’s funny though, it’s the first real link between her and Tallulah, because she originated it on the stage. Then there’s Dark Victory, and of course, The Little Foxes. They had these mirrored careers, one on stage and one on screen, and even though Bette had bad things to say about everyone, she never really did about Lou…”

His voice lulls you to sleep. You’ll hear the rest in the morning.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo smut #the bubble fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

298 notes · View notes

lovings4turn · 3 months

Note

back !! could i pretty please ask for a [ 🪩 ] who's your money on? for f1, no gender preference ( although i guess maybe i don’t need to say that when they’re all gents 😅 ) ?

so, my name is dolly — you knew that — and i’m a panromantic asexual person. my gender is… weird 😅 because really I think gender is an odd social construct and I don’t really care what people refer to me as. I’m also autistic, and some of my special interests include musical theatre, books, true crime, superheroes, and mythology of all different kinds and cultures. i don’t get the opportunity to talk about my special interests a lot, but once I do, you’ll have a hard time getting me to stop talking.

as for hobbies, i spend most of my time either reading or writing fanfiction ( and sometimes original short stories ), listening to music, and watching movies or tv shows. i mostly like all kinds of music, but i’m not really the biggest fan of rap. i’m also really into true crime podcasts, and I have a love for older tv shows, such as m*a*s*h and the a-team, as well as all the marvel and dc movies and tv shows. i’m also a pretty decent singer, at least depending on who you ask. i really love books, and my ultimate career goal is to be a librarian ( although if you asked me my absolute dream job, the answer would be a voice actor ). i’m also a half-decent singer, at least depending on who you ask.

personality-wise, i kind of cycle between being bubbly and cheerful and quieter and shyer ( a textbook ambivert, me ), but no matter what, i always do my best to be a good listener and to make my friends happy, because I am very loyal and I love them a lot.

looking forward to seeing what you come up with for this !! hope you’re doing well, love <3 <3

thank you again for sending something in dolly lovely !!! now i promise at all i'm not biased with this but-

❤︎ . . . i'd have to ship you with daniel ricciardo !

look look look , i know he's your favourite but this all just screamed danny to me. he absolutely adores your personality, and thinks it works perfectly with his own ! you're both bubbly, cheerful people, but daniel is more than happy to step up and be the more extroverted one when you're feeling shy. (he also thinks you're the cutest thing in the world when you get quiet)

daniel always mentions one of your interests in a throwaway comment, just to see the sparkle in your eyes when you get a chance to talk about it. he loves to sit and listen to you talk - especially about mythology - and even asks questions, properly engaging in the conversation instead of just letting you talk at him and zoning out!

he also loves to sing with you ! if you guys are driving anywhere, he's putting you on aux and singing loudly along to every and any songs he recognises. he states it's unfair, because you can actually sing, but it doesn't stop him from belting out every last lyric.

danny is so invested in your writing, too. he's always asking what you're working on and if you have anything he can read a little bit of, then proceeds to sing your praises for the next few days because how can his partner be so talented ??

sometimes you'll be so absorbed in your writing that you don't even notice him reading over your shoulder. it's only when he lets out a "holy shit, that's good!" that you realise he's standing there, and has been for the past five minutes or so.

#.° ༘🦇⋆₊˚ෆ becca celebrates #✮⋆˙ becca hits 500!

1 note · View note

grad602-thammaratverkade · 2 years

Text

in the chapter pages i wanted to add something engaging and add something that was relevant to the directory. i have emailed a couple studios like calico and red eye design to ask... why is that region a good place for designers...

“Hi there! My name is Bom and I am a design student from Auckland University of Technologies. I am currently designing a directory for young designers looking for studios and would love a quote form you guys! The question is… Why is Auckland a good place for designers? Cheers, Bom”

Responses

CALICO:

Hi Bom, Thanks for your email! That sounds like an awesome project. I’m more than happy to provide a quote. Great people really make a place, and Tauranga is full of them. We’re surrounded by people who want to collaborate and work together to push the envelope, which has created a really encouraging culture. It’s pretty nice being so close to the beautiful ocean too!

Let me know if there’s anything else that I can help with. May I ask how you found us? It’s always interesting to hear what channels people have come through. Cheers, Emily Woolerton

RED EYE DESIGN

Hi Bom, Sounds interesting. The schools themselves don’t make it a priority to promote the students that are graduating. Having an online portal to view students work from around the country would make it much easier for us to engage with them. We can’t attend all the shows but we are interested in talent from around the country. Auckland is a good place for designers as many head offices are based there so there is a better opportunity to work with bigger clients and bigger projects. Cheers, Sammo

MILK DESIGN

Hey Bom,

Apologies for the late response, busy days at the moment.

Why is Auckland a good place for designers?

The calibre of design coming out of Auckland, and more broadly across the country is at a very high level. It’s globally recognised, with awards like The Best Design Awards having international acclaim. Even our Australian counterparts like to enter Best because of the calibre.

Auckland is a small city relatively, and it’s a highly competitive environment with at least 100 agencies in Auckland alone. This means all agencies need to continually raise the standard to be competitive and get the work they need to flourish. This means that studio’s and the designers in them are pushed hard, making them well rounded, critically thinking practitioners. It’s an industry of continual betterment.

I also believe Auckland is a great place to be a designer now, more so than ever, because the traditional geographic boundaries are no longer a barrier. We’re getting enquiry for our services from across the globe. This means we can live in a great city like Auckland but still be exposed and work on international projects.

There’s probably more Bom, but hope this helps for now.

Thanks

Ben

0 notes

reyeslonestar · 3 years

Text

@howtosingit replied to your post: an incomplete list of lone star fics that I love...

Thank you so much for including me! 🤗🤗

Of course! How could I not?! Your writing is amazing and that fic is the first of many of yours that I have on my list

#replies #howtosingit #you guys don’t need to thank me for recognising your talent #I’m just kicking around in my sand pit pointing out the things I like #you guys are talented and deserve every recognition #I’m just grateful you all share it with us #fic writers are awesome #brian tag

1 note · View note

finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

omg could you do a fluffy little thing based on your nyc insta request where mc meets fans and they ft harry and it’s just like the world’s glimpse into their relationship 💓

yes let’s do this!! this is short and sweet, but i hope you love it all the same!! ;

You were walking out of Starbucks when a group of girls approached you.

The day was not the nicest in New York, but you had errands to run within the city so you thought you’d get them done when it’s not a brilliant say and save the nicer days to do something fun with Harry. You’d been to the Apple store to fix your phone because it keeps on playing up. You’d been to Gucci to pick up a delivery for Harry. You’d been to the local florist to pick up some flowers for your best friend, since she was feeling under the weather. Finally, you’d just picked yourself up a coffee before you had to head back home.

Unfortunately Harry was at a fitting appointment for his tour outfits, so he couldn’t run errands with you, but he sent your good friend, and bodyguard, Aaron with you to keep you company, but more importantly keep you safe. New York could be absolutely crazy when it came to fans, but even more so when it came to creeps who had no respect for women or boundaries, so having a bodyguard helped keep things calm.

“Hi excuse me, you’re Y/N L/N right?” One of the young girls ask and you instantly knew this was a group of Harry’s fans. The giveaways? One of them had a Fine Line tote bag. One was wearing Harry’s merch. One was wearing a green frog bucket hat that Harry had worn only once.

“I am yes, hi.” You smiled politely at them, holding the warm cup of espresso between your hands. Aaron was stood near you, but not making it look like he was here for security.

“Hi, we noticed you in there a minute ago and just wanted to say hi and that we’re really big fans of you, and obviously Harry, and that we really love you guys.” The one with the tote bag spoke, who was also the one that had introduced them. You guessed that they were the most confident out of all them, because it did take balls to speak to a stranger in the way they did.

“Yeah, you’re both so sweet together and you clearly make each other happy. It’s so lovely to see actually.” The one with the frog bucket hat spoke up next. The one with the Harry merch kept a lot more quiet and you could tell by their body mannerisms that they were very nervous and shy - a lot like you actually. You had been an awful lot like them before you met and then he helped you come out of your shell and experience the world in a much brighter and safer light.

You’d be forever grateful for your boyfriend. Your best friend, Harry.

“Aww that’s so sweet of you all, thank you!” You cupped your hand over your heart in awe of their kindness. Harry’s fans always never failed to surprise you with their passion for love and spreading positivity. You admired people like this in general and it was only made more special when they were inspired by your Harry. “What are your names?”

“Oh i’m Alanna.” The one with the tote bag introduced themselves first, holding out their hand for you to shake which you shook kindly.

“Bethany, or just Beth I don’t really mind!” The one with the frog hat introduced themselves next, receiving a handshake too.

“Love your hat, Beth.” You pointed to it and they smiled excitedly.

“Harry was the inspiration!” Although you already knew that you let Beth have a moment to themselves and be happy over the little anecdote.

“And what’s your name, lovely? I’m Y/N.” You reintroduced yourself to the last girl, wanting them to feel as comfortable as possible with, not only you but, meeting new people.

“Marissa.” They smiled and shook your hand willingly.

“Oh I love that name! My aunt is called Marissa, but she goes by Mar though.” You told them the most useless bit of information just to make them feel that bit more at ease.

“People call me Mar too.” They smiled brightly and you felt like you might have cracked through even just a portion of their shell.

“Well, can I call you Mar then?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool! So you guys from New York or..” You asked, looking at all the shopping bags they carried. They’d been to all the shops you once could only just about afford, now you were lucky enough to be able to shop in the places you only ever window shopped in.

“We’re from New Jersey but just came shopping for the day.” Alanna explained. “Never expected to run into you though so that’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, definitely made my day!” Beth added, smiling brightly.

“Well I can only apologise that i’m not Harry or he’s not with me. He’s currently at tour fittings.” You explained and they told you not to worry about being sorry. You had a brilliant idea though.

“No, seeing you is so amazing Y/N!”

“Yeah, you’re Mar’s fashion inspiration!” Mar blushed, as their friends exposed them for being such a huge fan of yours. It helped explain why they were so nervous in front of you too.

“I’m honoured.” You laughed and pulled you phone out of your pocket, hoping to run with your great idea. You prayed it worked. “Just one second.” You held up your finger to them and they just nodded eagerly, sort of hoping that you were doing what they thought you might be doing.

You opened your phone and clicked on your most recent contact. The familiar beeping of a face-time ring rang through the air surrounding you.

“Hello my favourite human being. What’s up? You okay?” Harry’s golden face came up on the screen, your face high up in the corner. He looked so pretty. He was in his brown Gucci coat and had his hair all ruffled from where he’d washed it this morning but not dried it. His hair went crazy when he didn’t intentionally tame it - a bit like yours. You admired his worry for you, smiling as he kissed his camera as if to virtually kiss you.

“Hello my favourite boyfriend.” You teased him. You often greeted him like this and it always made him smile, just at how playful you were being. “I’m doing good, miss you though.”

“Miss you always babe.”

“You free?” You asked, looking briefly to the girls who were all grinning wildly. They were so excited and it made you chuckle, which caught Harry’s attention.

“I am yeah, why? What’re you laughing at? Better not be some hot celebrity you’ve accidentally bumped into.” He rolled his eyes, letting the jealousy get the better of him. You smiled and returned your attention back to your beautiful boyfriend.

“No, there’s no hot celebrity in my presence except from you baby.” That made him beam with happiness and blush with love.

“To what do I owe your beautiful face calling me then?” Harry asked, taking note of your background to recognise that you were still in the city.

You turned the camera towards your new friends, you in the bottom of the picture and them in the top above you. They were huddling together and waving towards the screen. Mar had tears in their eyes and Beth had their hand over their mouth in shock that this was actually happening.

“Met some lovely people who deserved a special hello from you.” You explained to him simply.

“Hello!” Harry stressed the ‘o’ making it sound more like hell-oo. He was so socially awkward greeting people over face-time, but he made it seem so easy nevertheless. He never wanted his fans to feel awkward or unsafe so he had to be as socially brave as he could.

“We have Alanna, Beth and Mar. They’re so kind and Mar says i’m their fashion inspiration.” You winked at Harry, understanding where Mar was coming from because Harry takes fashion inspiration from you regularly too.

“Which one’s Mar?” He asked you and you pointed the best you could to the girl wearing his merch.

“Um pretty sure Mar’s wearing my merch babe! Are y’sure they said you were their inspiration?” He laughed, which made Mar laugh and you were really happy to see that.

“No I did say that.” Mar backed you up, which earned a fist bump between the two of you and you sticking your tongue out to Harry.

“Yes bestie!” You laughed, knowing that was the language Harry’s fans used with one another. Not that you were on stan twitter or anything…

“Sorry if Y/Ns causing any trouble for you lot, believe me she’s quite the bloody handful!” Harry joked, making you scoff and then laugh at how rude he was being. You knew it was all a joke and a front, but he was so cheeky to be so playful in front of people he’d just met.

“Oi y’wanker. Sorry about him.” You apologised on behalf of Harry for no reason whatsoever.

“Harry?” Alanna spoke his name and he dedicated his attention from you to them.

“Hello? Alanna was it?”

“Hi, yes, Um, I just want to say that i’m really proud of you and all your achievements. I think you’re an absolute treasure and we all love you so much.”

Before Harry could get a word in they each continued to add onto Alanna’s praise. Harry started blushing, never being very good at taking praise. On the other hand, giving praise, he was remarkably good at - you could vouch for that.

“Yeah Harry your music is second to none and it’s really been such a blessing to be a fan of yours. You’re ridiculously talented.”

Mar was last to speak and although they didn’t say much, their words held gravity and were clearly very important to them. Maybe that’s why Harry appreciated Mar’s words the most.

“Thank you, Harry.” Was all was said, but it was enough for Harry to clear his throat so he didn’t start crying in front of these people. He didn’t need stories getting out of how he got all weepy because of some sentimental things his fans said, God the papers would twist that story a thousand different ways - and none of them good.

Harry kept the conversation with them for a little while longer until Harry announced he had to go back to his fittings. After they’d each said their goodbyes to both you and Harry, and even Aaron, they quickly asked whether they could post any of the photos they took from today - to which you and Harry were both completely fine with. The three of them then walked off and waved back to you, you waving too. You smiled so brightly, feeling so full of joy from meeting such wonderful young women. Not all Harry fans were that nice, so you were glad that those were the ones you had the pleasure of meeting. You turned your attention back to your loving boyfriend who was already looking at you - with so much love in his eyes you thought they’d turned heart shaped for a moment.

“What?” You asked, smirking at his cheeky face which gave you a belly full of butterflies.

“You’re just so amazing, d’you know that?”

“Oh stop being so soft i’m going to bloody cry otherwise.” You turned your head away for a moment to catch the tears before they could form, only to look back at him and he had his eyebrows raised as if he already knew that you were on your way to crying. “Shut up, you.”

“I’m sorry, y’too cute not to torment. Alright call me when you get back home safely babe, alright?” He asked and you rolled your eyes at him, he laughed at your childishness but knew that he only meant well for you.

“Okay. I love you, baby.” You kissed your front camera as a signal of goodbye that you did every time.

“Love you so much. Bye, bye, byeee.” He kissed his camera every time he said bye and you laughed at him before ending the call. God you loved him so much. Now all you wanted to do was get home and have a warm bath with your loving boyfriend and, little did you know, soon-to-be fiancé.

692 notes · View notes

nothinghcppens · 3 years

Text

bad liar - pietro maximoff

masterlist

pair: pietro maximoff x female!reader

summary: y/n is the new addition to the avengers, she was introduced to tony stark by nick fury who had heard of her special abilities after she was seen saving a building of people from an attack. when she gets introduced to the team she is taken in immediately, but others seem to not be as keen to get to know her.

warnings: swearing, mentions of trauma

“right, y/n.” tony stark said to you as he led you up the stairs of the avengers tower, “there’s going to be a lot of people here, it might be overwhelming. try not to freak out.”

“i promise you i’ll be fine, it’s them i’m worried about. have you told them what’s wrong with me?” you replied, following behind him. he stopped outside a large foggy glass door.

“there’s nothing wrong with you. these guys are the freaks.” he joked with a slight grin. you rolled your eyes and shook your head. the bearded man, who you had already began to enjoy the company of, placed his hand on your shoulder. “come on kid, let’s make a good first impression.” he pushed open the door and walked in, you stepping in behind him.

the room went silent as the large group of people looked at you. they were sat on the two sofas, a few on the floor. you immediately recognised a few of them, steve rogers and natasha romanoff stood out amongst the crowd, you saw them on the news all the time.

“okay losers, meet y/n y/l/n. she’s our new recruit.” he announced as he clapped his hands together. they all stood up and approached you, you’re eyes widening. you’re eyes scanned the group, now seeing clint barton and sam wilson. standing at the back of the group were a brunette girl and a blonde boy and floating slightly to the left was a red man with a mysterious glowing gem in his head.

“you probably already know steve, natasha, clint and sam.” tony said, gesturing towards them.

“yep, you’re pretty famous round these parts.” you explained, causing laughter from each of them.

“nice to meet you, y/n.” steve greeted, putting out his hand for you to shake.

you glanced at tony before taking his hand and shaking it lightly. “very... formal.” you noted with a grin.

“he’s very traditional.” tony commented, his smile copying yours.

“who’s the red dude?” you asked. the group let out a collective chuckle.

“vision, but the red dude works too.” he said, lowering himself to the ground.

“at the back we have the twins. come on you two, introduce yourselves.” tony called. the two pushed their way to the front, the girl with a smile on her face.

“i’m wanda, very excited to be working with you.” she said. you smiled and looked to the scowling boy next to wanda.

“pietro.” he stated. he was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a tight fitting t-shirt that accentuated his arms and chest. he was very attractive.

“well, can’t please everyone.” you commented, noting his cold demeanour.

they all eventually made their way to the couches again, everyone wanting to get to know you. tony had gave you a coffee and you sat on the carpet with your back against the sofa. wanda and nat joined you on the floor and the rest sat on the leather sofas.

“so, y/n.” nat started, glancing around at the team. “what’s your special talent?”

“i thought you told them?!” you exclaimed at tony.

“i didn’t say that!” he replied, chuckling. you groaned and stood up, ready to showcase your “special talent”.

“i need a volunteer.” you announced with a smirk, “or multiple.” confused looks were shared between the team. “fine. i’ll choose. wanda, steve and mr grumpy over there.” you said, pointing at pietro. he seemed to clearly not like you, so why not annoy him a little.

the three of them stood up and you led them to a clear space in the room. “who wants to go first?” you asked. tony leant back on the char as steve stepped forward, ready for the show. “go on then captain, give me your best shot.” you teased, throwing your arms up in a fighting stance.

a smile grew on his face and he went to throw a punch with his ‘super solider strength’ but you caught his arm and spun him around, pulling his arm behind him. you felt his strength flow through you as you ‘copied’ his powers. your knee flew up and hit his back, causing him to grunt and fall to the floor.

“okay so what? you can fight, there’s plenty of people like that here.” pietro commented with a scoff. his sokovian accent was thick but his english was fantastic.

“fine then, speedy. your turn.” you stated and steve stood up and laughed. “sorry captain, someone had to go first.” he retreated back to the group, taking his seat again. you took a step to the side, now standing in front of pietro who was glaring you down. you beckoned him with your hands and he cracked his neck before starting in a run towards you. you focused your mind on him and you mimicked his powers, running away at his pace. you ended up behind him and he stopped, confused. he turned around and you saw his eyebrows furrow. he ran towards you again but you sped towards him and grabbed his wrist from behind him, preventing him from moving any further.

“what the fuck?” he cursed, looking at you with anger in his eyes.

“aw what? mad that you aren’t the only fast one anymore?” you taunted, a dramatic pout on your face. he scoffed and ripped his hand from your grip, stomping back to the team. “i don’t think he likes me very much.” you could see tony’s amused face from where he sat, he sent you a wink and you turned to face wanda who was buzzing with excitement.

“is he always like that?” you asked, gesturing towards the blonde boy.

“only when he feels intimidated.” she replied, her accent similar to her brother’s.

“you ready?” you questioned.

“always.” she said, her hands glowing red.

you concentrated on her, absorbing her abilities. your hands began to glow the same red as hers and you flicked your hand towards her, lifting her from the floor. she retaliated by thrusting her hand at you, causing you to be thrown against the wall. you pushed yourself up and tossed her across the room where she landed at the team.

“ta-dah!” you said with a dramatic curtsy.

“copying people’s abilities. i like you kid.” sam announced, standing up and helping wanda get to her feet. he walked over to you and clapped his hand on your shoulder, “i think this calls for a celebration. after y/n gets settled in, let’s crack open the drinks!” everyone cheered in agreement.

“we’ll take you to your room.” nat explained with wanda at her side. you were shown to your room where all your belongings had been brought up.

your two new friends helped you choose an outfit for the night and sat with you while you got ready.

“don’t you two need to get ready?” you asked as you applied a thin layer of lip gloss.

“we don’t need to rush, steve and pietro take longer than everyone combined to get ready.” nat replied with a laugh.

———

the bar area of the tower was lit dimly and was filled with people you had never seen before along with your new team members. music played softly over the chatter of people around the room. you were wearing a black slip dress and heels, getting dressed up wasn’t something you got to do enough. you spot steve, sam and pietro at the bar, fixing your dress you made your way over to them.

“good evening boys.” you greeted, sliding in beside steve. he was wearing a blue button up shirt, sam a white shirt and black suit jacket and pietro was wearing a black shirt a few buttons undone, tucked into black trousers. his platinum blonde hair and bright blue eyes stood out against his dark attire. if he wasn’t such a moody brat, you’d maybe appreciate how attractive he was.

“hello, y/n.” sam said with a large smile.

“you look lovely, y/n.” steve complimented.

“thank you cap, shame you’re just a few hundred years too old for me.” you joked, placing your hand on his shoulder. the two let out a laugh and you looked at pietro, his eyes trained on you.

“hey grumpy, enjoying your night?” you asked with your eyebrows raised.

he rolled his eyes, “i was.”

you let out a gasp of shock, placing your hand on your chest. “i’m not entirely sure what i did to piss you off so much, pietro, but can’t you just reign it in for one night? i mean this is my night after all.”

he huffed in response. “is it because i embarrassed you earlier?” you taunted.

“no it’s because i don’t trust you.” he spat.

“ding ding ding! there it is!” you exclaimed. sam cleared his throat, signalling to steve that they should probably leave.

“we’ll go get you a drink kid, don’t go too hard on him.” he said, walking away. steve followed behind him.

“so, why don’t you trust me?” you questioned, leaning against the bar.

“i don’t trust many people.” he explained, taking a sip from his drink. he sat it on the bar before looking back at you.

“what about all them?” you asked, gesturing to the room. you took his glass in your hand and took a sip, seeing his looks of protest. “what? i don’t think they’re actually getting me a drink, they’re just not wanting to stand they’re awkwardly.”

“they saved my life.” he replied.

“so for you to trust me i need to save your life?” you said, turning to face him.

“yup.” he stated, popping the ‘p’. he took his glass back from your hand.

“oh come on.” you groaned, “there’s nothing else i can do? i mean we’re even matching outfits tonight! i think that means we are immediately friends.”

he looked between the two of you, his eyes glancing up and down your body. “he so we are.” he chuckled.

“see! you’re already warming up to me.” you teased, taking his glass again and gulping down the drink.

“you wish.” he replied. you scoffed and gave him the glass back.

“so, what’s sokovia like?” you asked, trying to get to know the mysterious man.

“well now, nonexistent. but from what i remember it was... home. i mean, i only got to experience it for a short amount of time before hydra took us.” he explained.

you sighed, “i heard about that. that sucks. well if it makes you feel any better after my parents found out about my abilities, they locked me up and stopped me from leaving so i couldn’t hurt anyone.”

“really?” he questioned.

“yup.” you replied, mocking the same way he answered earlier. “wow look at us, trauma-bonding. i’m telling you, warming up to me!” you said in a sing-song voice.

“oh shut up.” he laughed.

“is that a laugh i hear brother?” wanda called as she approached them, followed by other members of the team.

“wow kid, you really know how to get people to like you.” tony said.

“i can’t help it. i’m just so charming.” you replied.

the team stayed with you for a long time, everyone talking and laughing. an hour or so passed and everyone had made their way to the couches they found themselves on not long ago. this time you were sat on the couch instead of the floor, the cool leather against your legs. you were sat in the middle of sam and pietro, enjoying watching the team tell stories of their battles. they eventually made their way to the topic of the battle of sokovia that they hid recently been through. you felt pietro tense next to you- he clearly didn’t enjoy hearing about his near-death experience.

“hey, do you want to get some fresh air?” you whispered into his ear. he nodded slightly and you stood up, reaching your hand out for him to grab. you helped him to his feet and announced that you were going to get drinks.

you led him out of the warm room and up to your room which was equipped with a balcony. you pushed open the glass doors and felt the cold, fresh air fill your lungs.

“much better.” you stated, leaning on the railing. “are you okay?” you asked, feeling pietro’s presence behind you.

“i am now. i’m just not ready to talk about it yet.” he explained, “thank you.” he muttered.

“what was that?” you queried, looking over your shoulder at him.

“nothing.” he replied.

“no. i heard a thank you!” you declared.

“nope. you did not!” he exclaimed, his eyes filled with mischief.

“you’re a bad liar.”

———

since the night of the party, you and pietro have been inseparable. you guys train together, eat meals together and you introduced him to all your favourite films. the rest of the team were sick of seeing you guys with each other. no one could get a minute alone with either of you.

“i can’t believe you hated me when i first arrived.” you said, throwing a piece of popcorn at his hair. you two had been watching the maze runner films, as per your request, and were midway through the scorch trials.

“seriously? it’s been 6 months and you’re still not letting that go?” he joked, throwing it back at you.

“nope. you hated me. just because i ran faster than you.” you bit, a sly grin growing on your face.

“you did not! how dare you y/n!” he growled.

“i did! but since you’re too proud to admit it, let’s try again.” you suggested. he raised his eyebrows.

“are you sure you want to test me, princessa?” he questioned, his nickname for you that had become a recent thing. you absolutely adored it when he spoke sokovian. you adored many things about him, his cheeky comebacks, his sarcastic humour, his laugh, his eyes, okay so a lot of things. you had been pushing down any possible feelings towards him, there was no way he felt the same for you.

“oh i do.” you replied, placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, pausing the film and standing up. he followed suit and walked closely behind you as you led him outside.

“what’re you two up to?” cap asked when you walked past him.

“proving to him that i’m faster.” you answered.

“my money’s on y/n!” clint shouted from the floor above.

“same!” chorused nat, sam and tony.

“wanda?” pietro asked.

“same!” she said, peering over the railing. you let out a large laugh as you saw his shocked expression.

you walked out to the courtyard, the sun beating down on your face. pietro stopped very close behind you, his breath hot on your neck.

“you ready?” he mumbled into your ear. his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

you cleared your throat, “yup.” taking a deep breath you turned around to face him. he was a lot closer than you thought. his blue eyes seemed even more beautiful in the sun. you took his wrist in your hand and felt power flow through you. there are many ways that you could copy people’s powers, most of the time when they are in front of you and are about to use their powers on you, you can just imitate their abilities. but you could also touch them and copy them that way.

“to the bench?” you asked, letting go of him.

“sounds good.” he replied, taking his place next to you,

steve and sam were stood at the door, watching intently at the interaction.

“count us down steve?” you called over your shoulder.

“3...2...” he began.

“you know piet,” you said, looking at him,.

“1!” steve shouted.

“you have really beautiful eyes.” you added as you broke into a fast sprint, blue light trails following behind you. you heard his startled gasp before he ran after you. your plan to distract him had clearly worked and you got a head start. you stopped at the bench and plopped yourself down, a second before pietro.

“you cheated!” he complained.

“no, i played smart.” you protested. you stood up to walk away for dramatic effect but pietro appeared in front of you with a gush of wind.

“no. you cheated.” he said, taking a step closer.

“i didn’t.” you replied, “steve! sure i didn’t cheat?”

“don’t bring me into this kid!” he called back, him and sam leaving you guys alone.

“see, even cap thinks you cheated.” pietro stated.

“i can’t help that you got distracted by my charm.” you teased.

he groaned and suddenly bent down and scooped you up, over his shoulder. “pietro maximoff put me down!” you squealed, hitting your hands off his back. he ignored your protests and ran around, whistling a faint tune.

“piet please!” you begged, laughter straining your voice. he stopped and threw you off his shoulder but before you landed on the ground you grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him down with you. you landed on the grass with a thud and a wheeze as he landed on top of you. he went limp and let all of his weight lie on you.

“get off me!” you shouted, laughing heavily.

“i’m quite comfortable actually.” he said. his voice was muffled from his head being nestled in the crook of your neck. his breath tickled your neck. you brought your hands up and placed them in his hair, tugging him up so he could look at you.

“piet i’m going to kill you. get. up.” you growled. his signature smirk grew on his face, clearly trying to annoy you. your eyes fell to his lips but you blinked quickly and met his eyes. his smile grew even wider, he noticed your glance.

“looks like you’re going to have to kill me. i’m not moving.” he replied.

“god i hate you.” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“no you don’t.” you said, pushing himself up on his arms so he was now hovering above you.

“yes i do.” you protested, folding your arms across your chest.

“i really don’t think you do.” he replied, lowering himself closer to you slightly.

you forced a frown on to your face and glared up at him, “fuck off.” you muttered.

he gasped, “fuck off? that’s not very nice.”

“you’re not very nice.” you retaliated.

“ouch.” he said, the smile still present on his face.

“can you get up now?” you asked.

“fine.” he replied, getting up and taking your hand. he pulled you up harshly and you crashed into his chest.

“you are pushing my limits today maximoff.” you said, pushing yourself free from his grip. but it’s never that easy with pietro, he grabbed your wrist. “what the fuck is wrong with-“

he stopped you from finishing your sentence by pulling you in and pressing his lips against yours. you immediately melted at his touch. his hands moved to your waist and yours moved round the back of his neck, into his hair. he pulled you closer, you felt his rough stubble brush against your face. you both pulled back, breathing deeply.

“still hate me?” he whispered.

“yup.” you breathed. you let out a laugh.

“now you’re the bad liar.” he said.

“tony! i’ll take that $20!” you heard sam shout. you both looked up to see him standing on a balcony.

“he made the first move? really?!” tony replied. he jogged out next to sam.

“proud of you speedy!” sam called.

“you better watch it bird man, i can be up there and you’ll be over the edge faster than you can blink!”

#pietro maximoff #pietro x reader #quicksilver #pietro maximoff imagine #marvel imagine #quicksilver imagine #quicksilver x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #imagine

1K notes · View notes

in-the-name-of-styles · 3 years

Text

Need You.

Author’s Note: Hello! After answering tons and tons of asks, and explaining how Tumblr had deleted the second part “Please Stay” to my one shot named “Only If” for god knows what reasons. I had to do this for you guys. I stopped writing years ago, and but kept my masterlist open for you to come and read my writings whenever you wish to. Trust me, this was so effing difficult for me to do! but I’m kind of proud that I removed the time and managed it. but let me inform you it’s not the same, because I do not remember what happened in the original one clearly. I hope this is a better and hopefully more well-written (amongst my other writings *cringe*) version of the old one.

It’s not proof read. I haven't edited it, so I’m sorry in advance for the typos.

So, guys, gals and non-binary pals, I present to you (apology for it being light years late) the part two to your favourite little creation of mine “Only If”, with a new identity... please welcome “Need You”!

Do let me know how it makes you feel in the ask box or comment section. I love reading them. Happy Reading!

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: tons of angst with tons of fluff, sensitive harry???? (or do you guys call it sub!harry nowadays??) anyways it’s a cute!harry :P !

It’s been four hours, and you still weren’t back. Though it wasn’t new for you to go for a drive after an argument with him, you often came back within an hour or two. The blizzard outside was making Harry quite anxious. Even though the fight was extreme, he wanted you back safe and sound. He now realised how harsh he was on you. You didn’t intentionally leak the song. It was a mistake and it could happen to anyone, himself included. He felt guilty over the way he yelled at you; it wasn’t like him to react like that.

Suddenly, Harry felt the need to do something special for you. Though he planned on apologising to you verbally, he wanted his actions to prove it too. He made his way to the kitchen to cook you your favourite meal. He got a hold of his phone and switched on the playlist which include all the songs both of you enjoyed. the sound of the vessels clucking against each other minimised over the song playing on through the speakers.

A smile lit up on his face as he reminisced back to the moment when you were dancing to this song while making the two of you breakfast.

FLASHBACK

Harry rubbed his eyes as he walked down the stairs, his dimpled smile already making its appearance when he heard your voice blasting through the kitchen entrance. He didn’t know why you bothered turning the song on so loud, you were anyways going to be louder. He stopped at the kitchen entrance, a silent laugh escaped him as he leaned against the door frame and took in the scene going on in front of him.

“You say you want a good time! Well here I am, baby, here I am, baby” you belted out loud, cheeks turning red with the happiness radiating out of you. You’d decided that the whisk was your microphone of choice with batter stuck to it and everything. You’re moving those luscious hips which drive him crazy right to the rhythm of the song.

“Talk to me, talk to me, talk to me talk to me, tell me what's on your mind!” you missed a note but you don’t care. This scene right in front of him, he wished he could capture and watch it forever. Bruno Mars did bring a wild side out of you, and he couldn’t bring himself to be jealous of the multi-talented singer. He would give anything to see you like this. Knowing you’re the shy type who doesn’t enjoy too much of attention, getting to watch you like this was definitely a sight.

He walked right up to you and wrapped his arms around you slowly. You jumped in a scare, as you were lost in your own world. “Harry! You scared me.” You complained, trying to ignore the blush on you cheeks after you realised he must’ve been watching you from a far.

He nuzzled into your neck and sighed, while pressing a kiss there, “Hmm… I’m sorry, m’love. But you just looked so beautiful I didn’t want to stop you.” He murmured while pressing more kisses to your neck, then trailing them up to your jawline. “Y’ look utterly ravishing right now. Forget pancakes, instead I’ll have you for breakfast.” He smiled and went on to kiss your cheeks. His comments made you smile. He saw his chance and lightly bite the side of your cheek. You squealed and tried to push him away.

“H, stop!” you laughed. He tightened his arms around you and swayed to the beat of the song then went on to sing next lyric “Tell me baby, tell me, tell me baby what you tryna do!” he slightly lifted up your t-shirt and moved one of his hands under it, and muttered, “huh? What are you trying to do to me, baby?” and pressed yet another kiss to your cheek.

“Gosh, your hands are extremely cold!” you gasped. He then turned you around to face him. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him. The two of you smiled quietly towards each other, then he leaned down to kiss you properly. You shifted one of your hands into his the nape of his neck and the other went on to cup his cheek. He moved one of his around your shoulder and the other around your waist. Both of you sighed and bathed in each other’s presence.

“G’morning, froggy” you teased as pulled away first and smiled up at him. He frowned and tutted, then smacked your ass lightly. You always teased him for his morning face, said it looked like a cute frog. He rubbed the area he spanked and quickly pecked you once again before pulling away to look at you.

Brushing away the hair stuck to your face, “Morning, precious. How’re you feeling?” he asked, hugging you towards his chest. Let’s just say the rest of the day went on just like this. Him being needy for your attention, and you loving on him without any hold backs.

END OF FLASHBACK

Right as he was getting ready to plate the dish, the doorbell rang. He smiled, happy to finally have you home. He quickly washed his hands and walked up to the door as he rubbed his hand dry with the towel which was once on his shoulder. He buzzed you in thinking you’ll unlock the main door with the security code. But after two minutes of waiting and not seeing you walk through the door, he turned on the camera above his buzzer to see what was wrong.

He frowned when he saw two police officers standing outside his door. His heart suddenly started racing at rapid speed. He rushed towards the door and unlocked them. Coming face to face with the two sombre looking men, he tentatively asked, “G’ evening, officers. How may I help you?”

The two men exchanged looks and the tall one replied, “Sir, there has been an accident and we found an ID on the victim. Is this Ms. Y/N Y/L/N residence? we’re here to inform you about the unfortunate event.”

“I-I don’t understand? What happened?” he stuttered, his legs almost felt as if they were about to give up.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have much information for you. May we ask what’s your relation to the victim?” the other officer asked, and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Fiancé.” He cleared his throat, trying to calm himself down. He could feel his panic attack rising. “I’m her fian-” he shook his head, “Just tell me where she is please…” he pleaded and quickly put on his shoes. He took his car keys and raced up to his rover.

“She’s over at St. Thomas, Mr. Styles.” The officers had clearly recognised the distressed man. “Here’s her ID. We hope everything is well.”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to thank them as he started his car and backed out of the parking spot. He raced up to the hospital, and once he reached, he ran up to the reception.

“Y-Y/N Y/L/N? S-She just c-came in? I’m her f-fiancé?” He gasped out your name. The lady was busy tending to others to notice him. “Hey! Hey! Please ma’am just tell me where she is!” he was on the verge of weeping in front of her.

The old lady looked at him with a bit of annoyance, “Take a breath, young man. I’m trying my best here!” She walked up to him. “Now tell me, what was her name again?”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” He rushed. He couldn’t stand straight. Once he got what he wanted, he ran towards the elevator, up to the fifth floor. The corridor was busy and he couldn’t care less about pushing people aside. He just wanted to get to you as soon as he could. He found your door and barged in, not caring about the doctors around your bed.

“Y/N!” He rushed to your side, dropping beside your bed.

“Sir you can’t be her-” the male nurse tried to pull him back.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, precious!” He cried, trying to get the man off of him and get back to you. “I’m here now, okay? I’m not going anywhere- GET OFF ME. SHE NEEDS ME!” he yelled pushing the guy away.

“Hey man you’re no good to her at the moment yeah? Let the doctors do their job!” the nurse tried to make him understand while pulling him back yet again. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to reach to you. He sobbed over your state, blood was streaming down your forehead, and all he wanted to do was protect you and wrap his arms around you.

“No I need to be here! Please let me!” he cried. All of sudden a beep brought his cries to a halt. He looked around frantically wanting to know what had happened. “W-What’s wrong?!” he hiccupped.

The doctor and the nurses around him started rushing around the room. He then heard those words which made his heart stop, “She has flat-lined! Someone pass me the defibrillator!” the doctor raised his voice.

Harry couldn’t believe this was happening. The nurse had enough of the unwilling man and pushed him out the door, “Sir we cannot help her if you’re being difficult. Please calm down and go to the waiting room. We will inform you about her doing as soon as we can.” and then shut the door to his face. Harry could no longer see you. The group of doctors, covered your body.

He slid down the wall next to your door and sobbed into his hands. Only if he would’ve stopped you from leaving. Only if he would’ve told you that he forgives you and that he loved you more than anything. Only if he would’ve let the argument die and kiss you instead. Only if…

Later, the upset man walked himself to the toilet. He caught his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t care about his red swollen eyes, his sweaty forehead and matted hair. The image of you lying on that bed yet again brought tears to his eyes. The thought of you not making it made him retch and he rushed into one of the restrooms. He dry-heaved and cried. Once he was able to breathe, he took out his phone.

Sniffling as he dialled the only number he could think of, The voice on the other side made him breakdown. “Mum I-” he couldn’t complete his sentence, as he tried to wipe his eyes.

“Harry? Darling what’s wrong?!” she asked shocked at her son’s rapid breathing.

“Y/N s-she is- Mum I can’t lose her. I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have let her leave. What if she doesn’t make it?” He wept while running his sticky fingers through his hair.

“Love, what-” she tried to ask him, but he cut her off.

“What if she…What if she dies, mum?” he cried and coughed.

His mother had figured out by now that you were not okay, and might be admitted in the hospital. She tried to calm her son through the phone. Unfortunately, she wasn’t near him and by the time she would reach it might not be enough. So she did the only thing she could once Harry hung up the phone, she rang up his friends.

Harry sat himself down on one of the wating room chairs. No one was telling him anything, he had no idea how you were doing or if you were okay. He was out of tears, and soon enough the exhaustion took over him. He didn’t even realise when he had fallen asleep until he felt a hand brush the back of his head. He opened his eyes and saw his two friends crouching in front of him.

“Hey buddy…” Louis smiled softly. Harry jolted back up, and got up to run towards your room. But before he could stand up straight Mitch stopped him. “H, they just came in here to inform us about her condition.”

“How’s she? Is she okay? Is she awake? She needs me, I need to be beside her.” He rushed. His two close friends, tried to calm him down.

“They said she’s stable now, mate. But we aren’t allowed to meet her yet, okay?” Louis stated.

Harry took deep breaths and looking at their extremely destressed friend, Louis pulled him into a hug. Getting the comfort he desperately needed, Harry started sobbing again. He was tired of crying but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Everything is going to be okay, Harry. She’s our little tigress, she’s going to pull through, yeah?” Mitch ran a hand drown his friend’s shoulder. Harry nodded lightly and tried to slow down his heart.

48 Hours Later

It’s been two days, yesterday Harry was allowed to visit you since they moved you out of the ICU. Thankfully, your internal recovery was rapid, and you could wake up anytime. He was getting a bit impatient. He wanted to see you open those shiny eyes and look at him the way you always did, with so much love that made him giddy and flustered. These past two days he’s been talking to you, continuously apologising for his behaviour, and how he’s going to make up for everything that went wrong. You just had to come back to him.

“and then Louis got frustrated because Mitch was not answering him. But that’s Mitch for you, right?” he slightly smiled and ran the hand which wasn’t holding you hand, through your hair. “You’re going to hate your hair, once you wake up. You always like them a certain way, don’t you? But don’t you worry, I’ll help you wash your hair as soon as you wake up and come back home.” He stated and kissed your hand. He was silent for a while, just continued to run his hand through your hair.

“You’re going to come back to me, right precious?” he asked quietly, “Why aren’t you waking up, huh? Your froggy needs you to open your eyes....” he continued, as he forced a laugh out of his throat which had a huge lump in it. His eyes turned misty as he continued, “I hate it here. Seeing you like this is a nightmare. I miss you so much. I miss you calling me annoying little names. I miss you smacking me when I’m being a narcissistic little prick. I miss your voice. I miss everything about you, and even though it’s just been two day, I feel like it’s been forever. Wake up, baby. Please…” he pleaded.

As the day turned into night, Harry decided to stay back. He asked for an extra blanket and a pillow for his makeshift bed on the couch. He didn’t know why he bothered because he spent the entire night sitting beside you, holding your hand as he fell asleep leaning against it.

You could listen before you could see. The only thing you could hear was the air conditioner and someone lightly snoring against your right hand. You tried to move your fingers as you opened your eyes. The bright light made you squint, you blinked rapidly as your vision cleared. You turned to your right and saw Harry’s peaceful face sleeping against your hand. You felt the need to clear your throat, and your eyes searched the room for a glass of water. But the sound made Harry wake up from his sleep. He lifted his face and wiped the little drool from his face and the little amount on your hand.

“whoops, you’d kill me now if you were awak-” he turned to look at your face, and he had to double take. He gasped, almost falling off this chair. “Y/N…Oh my- you’re awake!” he nearly yelled. He pressed the button to call the nurse and then cupped your face going on to press kisses to your face, “Baby I was so scared. I thought I had lost you!” He laughed his airy laugh and looked at you with utter happiness.

For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. The words he said to you were the only thing swimming through your mind. For you time had stood still, like the fight had happened mere hours ago. You moved your face away from his hands. Harry frowned noticing this change in your mood.

“Hey what’s wrong? The doctor is on her way, yeah. Do y’need anything?” he asked frantically following your eyes round the room. He saw you eye the plastic cup beside your bed, “Y’ want water? Hold on I’ll get it for you.” He ran to the other side and brought the cup up to your face. You didn’t realise how thirsty you were until the first sip hit your throat, you started gulping it down quickly.

“Take it easy, precious. They took out the tube just yesterday.” He explained softly.

Once your thirst was quenched he kept the cup aside then went on to pull his sleeve over his knuckles and wiped the wet corners of your mouth. You moved your face aside yet again, he couldn’t understand what was wrong. But before he could ask you, the doctor came in to check on you. She did her tests and asked a few questions. She left as soon as she was done, and told you even though the injury looked worse than it actually is, you had take it easy for a couple of days.

Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, “How’re you feeling, love?” he asked quietly. You nodded, “I’m okay.” He came up to you and raised his hand to caress your cheek. But before he could touch you, your head turned to the opposite side. He couldn’t take it anymore, so he asked you.

“Will you please look at me? What’s happened, precious?” as he caressed your hair.

“Why should I look at you, Harry? So you can tell me how careless I am, or how I’m not trustworthy?” you rasped quietly. For a minute he was unable understand what you were trying to say. Then flashbacks from your fight the other night came back rushing to him. The things he said to you, and how guilty he felt later. His words had left a huge impact than he thought they did.

He took your face in his hand with very much to little force, he had to tell you this, “Y/N y’have absolutely no idea for how sorry I am for that night-” but you didn’t let him complete.

“That’s only because I got into this accident.” You snapped. He shook his head rapidly, he saw you getting worked up over this. You’ve always been a little firecracker, and you never failed to tell him when he was being a dick or to defend yourself quite amazingly, he always loved that quality. Apropos, he couldn’t let you hurt yourself in this condition.

“First of all, please calm down-” he started, “don’t tell me to calm down, harry!” you raged. He hated himself for smiling when you’re clearly very upset. But for the past few days he had to witness you lie there lifeless which had taken a toll on his mental state. He loved the fact that you were awake, so you yelling at him was more of a reward than a punishment. You looked at him sharply and saw him not taking you seriously, this brought tears to your eyes.

You sniffled and looked away from him to rest your head against the pillows on the raised up side of your bed roughly. Harry’s small smile melted away as quickly as it appeared. He rubbed the side you almost banged to the pillow, “I’m so sorry, precious. I swear I did not mean anything I said.” He pleaded and took a seat down on the chair beside you.

Right then the nurse which pushed him out of the room the other day and now was much like a friend to him entered the room with a tray which had a bowl of soup and jello in it. Harry smiled at him gratefully and took the tray from him as the guy set up the table on your bed.

“How’re you feeling, Ms. Y/L/N?” he asked once he was ready to leave. You gave him a small smile and said you were feeling better. The moment he left Harry looked back at you with a longing look on his face, when you refused to look at him he sighed and set the tray down on the small table and took a seat in front you on the bed. He looked at you as he removed the metal spoon from its cover, and then went on to remove the cover set on top of the soup. He blew light air on the spoonful of soup, then brought it up to your mouth. You refused to touch it. He sighed and looked at you pleadingly, “Y’ know someone told me we shouldn’t remove our anger on food.” He stated, turning your words against you.

You glared at him in anger for minute as he looked at you with a loving smile. “Please?” He moved it closer to your mouth, “You’ve got to eat it, I’m not budging unless you do, Y/N.”

Even though you wanted to stay stubborn, you were kind of hungry. So you let him feed you the soup. When he got to the jello, you refused profoundly. “But it’s the chocolate flavoured one! Remember the time we used to share one when I was here for my fractured foot? C’mon we’ll share this one too, if y’want?” he tried convincing you with his soft eyes.

“I don’t want to share it with you. Actually, I don’t want anything to do with you at the moment to be completely honest.” you snapped. You were aware of the fact that you were being very unreasonable and bitchy but it was his words that has caused extreme hurt to you. Your words hurt Harry, and it was evident on his face. He wrapped up the jello and cleared everything. The day passed, and in the evening your last visitor entered the room.

“There she is!” Louis came up to you and hugged you lightly, making sure not to hurt you. “Hello, darling. How’re you?” he kissed your forehead. Harry left you alone with him as he went to get the two of them some coffee.

“What’s happened to him? Why the long face still? I mean I get that Harry loves to pretend that he’s this macho man and all. S’ a bit ridiculous to be honest. Like who’s he kidding, he’s a puppy.” Louis laughed. You smiled at this.

“I’m still a bit upset with him over our fight. So I haven’t been talking to him.” You explained. Louis frowned at this and then sighed, “Oh love don’t do that... This has been very tough for him. Should’ve seen his state these past few days. The man has been a mess ever since the officers came to your house that night.”

“I’m trying, Lou. But I just can’t forget all the things he said. I was so hurt, I still am!” you rubbed your forehead, as it was beginning to give you an ache.

“He’s very sorry, Y/N. Trust me when I say that I’ve never seen him like I saw him that day. He just wanted you to wake up. He was just blaming himself, how he shouldn’t have let you leave the house.” He took a hold of your hand, “he loves you so much, darling. He’s absolutely mad over you.” He rubbed your hand, “A’bit obsessed if you ask me. If I were you I’d have him get that checked with a therapist.” He joked, you laughed loudly. He smiled with you, and passed you the water you signalled for.

“Forgive him, Y/N. He can’t even bring himself to go home. The only time he went there was to get some clothes, and to put the dinner he made for you in the rubbish bin.” He sassed. “and I know I’m speaking for Mitch too here when I say this, but both him and I could use a break from all the non-stop stress weeping calls we’ve been getting from him.” You gasped at him with a mock offence for Harry, and lightly smacked his shoulder. You were always thankful for Louis in moments like these. He was a great friend to you and Harry.

Harry came back with two coffees and passed one to his blue-eyed friend. He took a seat on the sofa which was against the wall, and the three of you, though it was mostly you and Louis, had a light conversation while the men finished up their coffee. Louis bid his farewell with another kiss on your forehead and a well wish, you thanked him and waved goodbye. Harry walked him out the door, and came back in a second later.

“Y’ need anything?” He asked as he took a seat on the chair beside you. You shook your head as you observed him fidgeting with the cuticles of his nails. He did that when he was anxious.

Neither of you spoke for a while. But the minute you heard a sniffle, you snapped your head towards him. You tried to get a look at his face, the tip of his nose was a bit red and he was now fidgeting with his feet too. He wasn’t crying but he sure was on the verge of it.

You suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of love for the man in front of you. You leaned against your bed and sighed, smiling a little. It’s pathetic how in love you were with each other. You couldn’t even stay mad at him.

“Harry?” You whispered softly. He hummed without looking up. So you continued, “I need you to do something” you faked a stern voice to play with him a bit more.

“Yeah sure, what’s it?” he muttered as he got up and rubbed his hands down his thighs, then finally looked at you. You looked at him without an expression and said, “I need you to come here and give me a good cuddle, a kiss too if I like the cuddle.” And then smiled at him lovingly. He looked at you for a second. You almost thought he was going to yell at you, but the opposite happened. He started tearing up and heavy tear drops ran down his cheeks.

You gasped and quickly leaned forward to take a hold of his hand which was near you. “Oh Harry..” You whispered as you pulled him near you. He the minute you sat him in front of you, he started crying heavily. You were so shocked yet you’ve never been more mesmerised by him. You quickly tried wiping his tears away and comforted him, “Honey, don’t cry. I’m not upset anymore!”

“I-I’m honestly s-sorry! I promise I didn’t mean what I said that day, Y/N!” he tried to speak while wiping his tears.

“I know, babe. I know!” you tried to say it properly but it came out in a laughing manner and tried to draw the crying man close to you, but seeing you laugh made him more upset and he pushed you away lightly, so you forcefully pulled him into a cuddle.

He told himself he’s letting himself be pulled because he didn’t want to hurt you, but it was actually because he wanted you close, so he went in head first. You lay down against the pillows and cuddle him against your chest. He went on sniffling into your neck and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Harry why are you crying!” you tried controlling your laughter. He whined and pulled his face away, “Y’were so fucking mean since the moment you woke up. I didn’t expect it.” He said and hiccupped, thanks to the sobbing breakdown he just had. You pulled on your lips so you wouldn’t smile.

“Well now you know, honey. It hurts, doesn’t it? You were so mean to me too!” You teased. He nuzzled back into your neck, pressing kisses there which always made you giggle.

“I’m really sorry, precious. Honestly, I really am.” He said into your neck, yet producing another hiccup. You couldn’t control yourself anymore so you smiled and pressed a quite a few smooches to his temple, and inhaled his comforting scent.

“It’s okay, baby. I forgive you. I’m sorry for my foolish mistake too, I really didn’t mean to ruin your hard work like that.” You apologised. He pulled away and brought the hand that was around your waist to your cheek and said, “I forgave you a long time ago, but you honestly don’t have to apologise at all. It could happen to anyone, m’love. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Y’know I made dinner and everything as an apology. But then the officers…” his tone dropped and he couldn’t continue. So, you sadly smiled and pulled him in for a kiss.

He sighed and reciprocated the kiss with so much love and passion that you couldn’t help but wrap the arm which around his shoulder a bit more tighter and ran the other through the back of his head gently. The two of you pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes, he moved the hair that escaped from your braid and tucked it behind your ear, “I was so scared. I thought I had lost you.” He whispered softly, and swallowed the small lump, “I missed you a lot, baby” he said and you couldn’t help but peck his cute pout.

“I missed you too, froggy” you replied. The pet name made him reward you with a dimpled smile. He nuzzled into your neck and whispered, “I love you.”

“and I love you.” You kissed his forehead.

“Just for your information, I’m not letting you out of my sight for a really long time.” He stated sternly.

You laughed but stopped when you saw he wasn’t joking, “You know I have to work, right?”

“Y’can easily take a break for a month or two.” He said, as he yawned and cuddle closer to you. “A MONTH OR TWO?! Have you gone mad?” you gasped, lightly pulling on his hair.

“No I haven’t. Try to get rid of me, baby. I dare you.” He laughed a scheming laugh. You knew he wasn’t joking. He tended to become quite paranoid and obsessive over you when situations like these occur. But you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“We’ll see, mister.” You said, and caressed the back of his head.

“oh we will, missus.”

The End.

Author’s Note: I really put in a lot of efforts on this one, so you guys kind of owe me *wink* y'all gotta humour my praise kink now!!! ;P

Love you guys!

504 notes · View notes

4dtk · 3 years

Text

“32, 37 hand holding and 3, 26 kissing with rookie actor mark and experienced actor s/o on their first drama together?” yes sure!!! excuse me but i don’t watch that much k-dramas so i’m doing this purely from youtube videos LOL + if it mirrors any other k-drama or is similar then it’s purely coincidence!! just conjuring something up in my mind lol

hand-holding, 32 & 37: not really paying attention, both doing something else, but still holding hands / not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out

kisses, 3 & 26: smiling while kissing, giggling while kissing

“what’s that supposed to mean?” mark glances down at you in the field, saying his line that he’s practiced with you countless times. the poor boy was so worried about the outcome of it, having only acted as side or filler characters for the past year. although, with every gig he gets, you’re there to help him reach his fullest potential: practicing his lines with him, going through the different variations of how he could’ve executed it, accompanying him to sets.

even the staff couldn’t mask their shock when they see you walking together with a boy who was sweating his ass off, the familiar murmur of his few lines said under his breath as someone led you two to a common break room.

“don’t mind me,” you raise a hand, used to the starstruck faces that looked your way once the door opened. patting mark’s arm, you said something about supporting your boyfriend before settling beside him to work on hair and make-up. you conversed with him easily, briefly stopping at times to entertain autographs or pictures from the other side actors in the room.

it’s been like that since mark made his debut a year ago, taking up many gigs that you always supported. mark struck jackpot when he lucky to have someone to catch onto his talent, running an audition by him that got him the job (with a bit of persuasion on your side).

a job with you, where your embraces and kisses were not just reserved for the two of you in the comfort of your home, or where your affection was held back due to the intrusive cameras. this was an entirely new variation: of moments taken in private mixed with the recognisable traits of korean drama.

the touch of your skin is familiar to mark, but the words that come out of his mouth feel foreign instead. it’s not often that he spouts something so poetic written by the hand of skilled scriptwriters, but at least now he has more words to tell you when he can’t do it in his normal, unique way.

“exactly what i said. why do you need an explanation?” you giggle, hand wiggling out of the expensive coat that your stylist put on you for this scene.

you can tell mark’s arms are struggling to hold himself up, with a teasing glint in your eye that suggests you’re making fun of his strength. your laugh deepens when you realise he’s waiting for you to say your line, pleading with his eyes. he's not used to it yet.

you wait for dramatic effect. “after all, my love for you needs no explanation,” you swear you see mark release a sigh of relief, able to finally lower himself to you while he rests half of his body weight onto your person. his character’s kisses are soft, not much different from your own boyfriend’s as he deepens the kiss.

“remember how i wondered about how you taste like?” he pulls away to ask, the line referencing an interaction from one of the earlier episodes where his character said the same thing.

“what do i taste like, han jiwoo?” the foreign name rolls off your tongue easily now.

“hm… if i’m being honest, i forgot. i might have to kiss you again to find out,” mark delivers the line perfectly and doesn’t hesitate to lean again for another kiss. you’re sure he’s not acting now.

your mouths do a great job of hiding things, before his tongue swipes across your lips. there’s a squeeze from your hand when he does that, but you grant him access either way, melting into it with a cheeky smile that grows and a heart that feels full.

you can taste the incoming snort from mark but he manages to hold it in with a mere giggle. your kisses start and stop, struggling to get in even a bit of contact from how much you’re laughing. like always, you two hold your kisses to make sure there’s sufficient footage, but you have to admit that it was partially indulgent, too.

the scene was almost over, and when mark brings you to your feet you’re able to breath easier, both from your boyfriend’s weight on you and the released tension in having laid in wet grass for the past fifteen minutes.

his hand twines around yours, dragging you along the field as you run off into the distance, shoving and pulling playfully while the camera prepares to pan up. the last shot is of the two of you holding hands, swinging it like a pendulum before the green of the field disappears and the blue of the sky appear. soon, it fades to black.

“and that’s a wrap! thank you, everyone!” the director shouts. claps are heard and you’re dragging mark by then, stripping off the coat that’s overheating your body. it drapes over your elbow easily, responding to the other’s searching hand as you take it in yours. all the way to the dressing room you head seemed to permanently stay down, continuously bowing to directors, producers, staff members.

all you’re focused on is getting to your next schedule, promising to the cast that you’ll treat them to a meal soon as your shout resonates throughout the space. everyone cheers and you reply with a grin, slipping into the dressing room.

as you remove the hairdo with one hand, you ask randomly, “so? what do you think of han jiwoo?”

mark looks up from his phone, pulling a face while he thinks of an answer.

"well, for one, i'm jealous of him for kissing you." that elicits a laugh out of you, giving him a squeeze with your hand before he goes back to his social media with a smile, "but he's a cool kid. i'm glad i got the chance to portray h..."

a thud from the doorframe snaps you out of the moment.

"ah! s-sorry, mark-sunbaenim, (y/n)-sunbaenim," they bow immediately.

"i hope you don't mind b-but, i just came over to tell you how much i loved your chemistry on screen! it's such an honour to be on set with the both of you, especially you, mark-sunbaenim."

you grin as the other flushes at the compliment, but the side actor continues. you don't mind.

"i'm hoping to get a big role like you too, mark-sunbaenim! i've been watching your other shows, too. the way you give life to a character is always very refreshing," your boyfriend takes refuge in your connected hands.

"and i can't help but notice the love you have off-screen too! it's endearing, (y/n)-sunbaenim. i hope i'll have a love as strong as your hands are held right now!" mark barely manages a thank you as the actor excitedly bows again before making his leave.

once he's out of earshot, you giggle at the scrunched up expression, face warm from the comment about him to your interlocked hands and your relationship.

"that was unexpected," similarly, you packed your things again with a single hand when mark reluctantly stands up, overwhelmed.

"y'know, i didn't even know our hands were connected for that long until he said something." mark groans. you laugh.

"please stop talking, i might actually explode," your lover calmly says, letting you drag him out the back door with your hand in his.

with a small peck, your lips meet the back of his hand, "well before i do, i need to tell you that i vouch for every little thing that guy earlier mentioned. talent in every bone in your body, mark lee."

you flag down your manager's car too fast to see the smile on mark's face, but he's grateful for your heartfelt words as he thanks you with kisses and cuddles later in the night.

132 notes · View notes

blu-joons · 3 years

Text

You Overhear Idols Being Rude About Him ~ Boo Seungkwan

Your eyes instantly landed on Seungkwan as you walked into the building, noticing how low his shoulders had dropped. You carried on scanning the room, noticing a group of idols stood nearby to him, with their backs turned to him.

As his eyes looked across as he saw you walk in, you knew straight away exactly who the group were, and just what they’d done to him too.

Over the past few weeks, you’d noticed a few changes in Seungkwan, specifically how low his confidence had dropped. Although you didn’t want to intrude on his business, you knew something seriously wasn’t right with him. After a couple of days, he wore himself down until he couldn’t hold in all the things that he’d heard said about him anymore.

As you approached, you could overhear their murmurs, holding your hand up to Seungkwan to keep a distance between the two of you so that none of them picked up on who you were to him.

“He’s just a big joke,” you overheard one of them speak up, flinching at how harsh their words were.

You knew that Seungkwan had kept the extent of their insults to himself, not wanting to repeat what he’d heard for his own sake, and for yours. You could only imagine the things that had been said and how hard it was for him to keep quiet about it all.

“He brings nothing to the group, they should just kick him out,” you heard another acknowledge, shaking your head.

“He belongs on variety, he’s got the face for it, especially with so few other talents.”

Seungkwan looked away as soon as you looked across at him, silently wanting to question why he’d never let you in on the torment he was placed under in his workplace. As they continued to speak, you couldn’t listen to much more, struggling to believe what you were listening to.

Once silence finally descended upon them, you turned to look at each one of them one by one. Every single one of them was an idol you recognised, idols who stood for supporting others and positivity, however performed with anything but.

You knew that although Seungkwan always had a smile on his face, he always took things to heart, keen to live up to the reputation he’d been given through his work on variety.

Just as you went to turn away, you purposely bumped your shoulder into one of them, causing a loud squeal to escape them. As they turned around, you stood firm, trying not to be intimidated as the rest of their group looked around.

“Excuse me,” they scoffed, holding onto their arm.

You remained silent, meeting their eyes with a deep breath. By now, you knew Seungkwan would be watching you once again, but there was no way you were going to let them get away with what they’d said about him.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you quickly cleared your throat. “You might want to be a bit careful over the idols that you slag off, especially those who are far more successful than anyone of you will ever be too.”

Behind you, Seungkwan sunk down as he managed to listen in to what you were saying, their eyes looked to him behind you, before turning back to you.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to butt into other people’s conversations?”

“When other people’s conversations are bashing someone that I care deeply for, I think I have every right to speak up and tell you that what you’re doing is wrong.”

“But Seungkwan-“

“-I don’t care what you have to say about Seungkwan, in fact just stop talking about Seungkwan altogether, what he does has nothing to do with you, just focus on yourselves instead.”

Before they had the chance to argue, you spun on your heels and began to walk off in the direction of the studio that you knew Seungkwan was working in. He was left, staring in awe as you walked past, quickly standing himself up too.

He soon found himself following behind you, struggling to find the words or catch his breath after what he’d just watched, having never had someone stand up for him the way you had before.

You eventually stopped just outside of the door, spinning around just as Seungkwan came crashing into you, meeting your eyes as a wide smile formed on his face.

“What the hell was that?” He chuckled, finally allowing himself to relax.

Your shoulders shrugged as you started walking once again, this time with him by your side, allowing his hand to move across to rest against the small of your back.

Once you were sure Seungkwan had caught his breath, you began to speak. “I can see the impact what they’re doing is having on you, there was no way I was just going to stand there and let that continue when it’s hurting you.”

“I’ve never had anyone stand up for me before.”

“That’s because no one else is me,” you teased in response, “and also because I can guarantee that no one has ever loved you the way I have.”

There was no feeling worse in the world than watching the person that you loved crumble. For so long Seungkwan had been the pillar that had held you up, this time around it was your turn to repay the favour and do the same for you.

Whilst you were certainly anxious, and still slightly unsure where such a wave of confidence had come from, you were relieved to have done it. Most of all though, you were hopeful that this would be the end for Seungkwan’s sake.

“I just hope that it does something.”

“I think it will, remind me to never get on the wrong side of you though, you can actually be quite intimidating when you want to be. Even if it doesn’t change things, knowing that you have my back already makes me feel a lot better about things.”

Even though you could never take away the things that they’d said, and the hurt it caused for Seungkwan, you just hoped that it would help make his life a little bit easier.

“No one talks about you like that and gets away with it,” you continued to chuckle, moving your arm to wrap around him too. “They even look evil though.”

“They’ve got a reputation, put it that way. Can you believe that their fans think their innocent and lovely, it’s crazy?”

“How else do all of these companies earn their money? Your company is just lucky to have such a funny, handsome, charming guy in you to bring in plenty of money to them.”

It didn’t take long before Seungkwan’s cheeks began to turn a light shade of red, a common theme that occurred every single time you paid him even the smallest of compliments.

“I guess all of those things must be aided by the fact I have a pretty incredible partner who always supports me and cheers me on,” Seungkwan noted, leaning across to press a kiss against your cheek gently.

The two of you always had been known by those around you for the great team that you made, picking each other up, and cheering each other on. Even if you couldn’t silence every voice that was rude about Seungkwan, you were determined to silence as many as possible.

“Thank you for having my back today, I really don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there to keep them quiet.”

“It’s my job, you don’t need to thank me.”

---

Masterlist

212 notes · View notes

shushiyuii · 3 years

Note

A giant going out to eat with their friends and getting a tiny in their food that looks more appetizing then the meal.,, (crimeboys??)

ITS TAKEN A WHILE BUT I DID IT, OVER 2K FUCKING WORDS TOO. I REWROTE THIS ONCE ADNJADNAJD AND I HOPE IT WAS WORTH IT LOL /s

Warnings: Soft vore, choking and maybe mentions of fatal? (It's not as bad as it sounds i promise)

Words: 2K+

There was one restaurant known worldwide, known for its delicious recipes from a world-renowned chef, Philza Minecraft. It’s not only known for its mouth-watering meals but also its delightful sweets from their baker, Kristin Minecraft.

Phil and Kristin had met back in their college days in one of the most famous schools for culinary with everyone going there being talented individuals and exceeding expectations of taste tasters across the world, the school’s purpose was to help drive those expectations even further.

Phil was a fine-dining chef whilst Kristin was studying in the baking course. Both had run into each other in coincidence and continued to run into each other since. And well, the two had simply fallen in love fairly quickly, they became the school’s admirable couple. It was love at first sight.

So, you couldn’t be surprised that Phil purposed so quickly after graduation, it was a simple picnic date where Phil attempted to bake a special cupcake for his beloved Kristin. And in the middle of that cupcake was an engagement ring.

They got married soon after, then settled down, started a restaurant together which became known as Tasty Treats. Then came their two little bundles of joy. Wilbur and Techno, they grew up in the restaurant, showing their own cooking talents. But not as much as their parents.

Techno had a particular interest in potatoes, any food he made with his parents had to be made with the ingredients, not that his parents minded this interest. It was just they had no idea why he had an interest in such things.

Techno was more like his father than his mother, and it was the opposite for Wilbur, more like his mother than his father. Although talented with his baking it wasn’t really his main interest, he just helped his mother where he could. His interest was music.

He was often just playing music for the restaurant, his own songs or general music. People noted that Wilbur did have a lot of musical talent, one that was similar to a siren’s lullaby. It was hypnotic, if you heard it, you’d be leered to the restaurant without a choice.

That’s how they met their third bundle of joy.

It was known that Borrowers lived amongst Humans, some being known as family or friends, they were known to live in Human’s walls or under floorboards and such. They weren’t eaten commonly as they used to be since Borrowers had evolved to be resistant to digestive acids.

Tommy had been a young Borrower, a kid living in the restaurant’s walls. He was abandoned by his parents and had grown to be somewhat independent on his own. He definitely wasn’t sneaky or cautious, but he got the job done.

Many of the customers and the owners were aware of a Borrower amidst their walls but they didn’t mind them, since well, the Borrower wasn’t doing any harm to them.

Now how did Wilbur’s music come into play? Well, Tommy would often listen to Wilbur’s music above a loose vent covering in the room. Wilbur was just a teenager and Tommy was just a child at the time.

Tommy was allured to the boy’s music, he found joy and comfort in Wilbur’s music, many had seen him at this point, but he had just become a part of the restaurant at this point, he had yet to be caught yet though.

Wilbur was just happily singing but got called over to help his mom with baking, to which he happily agreed and put his guitar aside by the chair, much to Tommy’s disappointment. Tommy stood up and was about to go back to his little space in the walls when he felt the rumbling in his stomach.

Right, he needed food.

So, he made his way to the kitchen. He stealthily entered the kitchen (as much as he could) and made his way over to the counter, he scanned around for anything to eat and a particular mixing bowl caught his eye and he made his way over to it, without the humans noticing him.

Once he saw the mixing bowl, he was delighted to see that it was a cookie dough mixture, the chocolate chips already in place, all they needed was to be cut into shape and baked. So, before the inevitable happens, he may have helped himself a bit.

But big mistake, “Wilbur! Could you pass me the cookie dough mixture, please? Darling?”, “Yeah! Course Mom!”. The sounds of the humans scared Tommy to a point he fell into the mixing bowl and when he looked up, a wide-eyed human stood above him…

…

“Mom! There’s a Borrower in the mixture!” Wilbur yelled out in confusion. “What?! Bring it here!”. Wilbur then brought the bowl to the other side of the room where his mother was. He placed the bowl down with Tommy struggling to get out of the mixture.

Kristin peered down into the bowl, her eyes widened as she immediately pulled out the Borrower, it scared Tommy. Was he going to be killed for stealing their food?! Was this his end? Tears stung into the boy’s eyes as he looked away from the human who was holding him in between her fingers.

“Wilbur, pass me a cloth, will you?” The hold then changed to a much comfortable one as he now laid on the human’s hand, “Awe you poor guy, you’re just a kid”. Tommy looked up angrily and with fear, he managed to speak up. “I’m not a little kid! I’m a big man!”.

Kristin's eyes softened and she smiled at the Borrower, “A big strong man, huh?” she asked with playful curiosity as Wilbur handed her the cloth, “Mhm!”. “Well, big strong man. Could you tell me your name?”.

“Tommy…”, “Nice to meet you, Tommy, I’m Kristin”. Tommy looked to Kristin to see a comforting face, it assured Tommy it was safe. Then, Kristin used the cloth to wipe over Tommy and clean him up. And once he was, he got another smile.

“You hungry, Tommy?”. To which Tommy nodded, he was then handed multiple chocolate chips to eat. Whilst he ate, he listened to the two humans’ conversation. “You think this is the borrower living in the restaurant?” asked Wilbur, “I think so”.

The two continued to talk as they worked, Tommy answering questions he was asked and that was show they met.

Now years later, Tommy was a teenager himself helping out in the restaurant. Multiple changes had been made to the restaurant to become a lot more Borrower friendly so their new son Tommy could easily move around.

Yep, Tommy had been adopted by the Minecraft’s so he was now Tommy Innit Minecraft. And he couldn’t be happier with his family.

“Tommy hun, mind taking this over to your father please?”. It was a small pot of seasoning his mother had prepped for his father’s latest recipe. “Yep, Will do Mom!”. He yelled as he grabbed the seasoning from his mother’s hands. He almost lost his balance from the weight of the seasoning but managed.

He made his way over to the kitchen, where his father was with Techno, “Dad! Seasoning!”. He yelled as he almost toppled over from the weight of the seasoning. His father noticed and immediately put everything aside, running over to catch his son.

Tommy landed in his hand and the seasoning in his father's hands. “Thank you, Toms”. Tommy then regained his balance, “Where’s Wilbur?”.

“Dunno”. Techno responded as he stirred the potato stew he was making. “It’s been forever since we’ve seen him! When’s he coming?!”. Wilbur’s musical talent had been recognised and had been offered a scholarship at one of the world's most prestigious music colleges.

He didn’t want to miss out on seeing Wilbur again.

“Tommy! A little help please!”. His mother called which snapped him out of his thoughts, he then ran over to the front to his mom and carried out the tasks given to him.

Now he was stirring a bowl for his mom as the day was almost finished, as they were closing his mind began to wander. Then, the bell before the door rang, it caught Tommy off guard to a point to which he fell into the bowl. “Sorry we’re-“ His mom cut herself off.

“Wilbur!”, She suddenly yelled. Running over to her son and embracing him into a tight hug. “Hi, mom! I missed you!”, he hugged back. “I missed you too, honey!”, he placed a kiss upon his forehead.

Then, Techno and Phil entered the room, “Wil!” his father said enthusiastically as he joined the hug of the two. “Hi dad!”, Wilbur laughed. The hug then broke apart and then he got a ruffle of his hair from Techno.

The four of them laughed, “How’s college been for you, mate?”, “Tiring, but great! I’m having a lot of fun!”. “Good!”. The four continued to converse until silence overcame them, they were all wondering the same thing. “Where’s Tommy?”.

The four then agreed to split up and find the Borrower, Wilbur searched the front kitchen, Techno in the back, Techno the storage and Kristin the serving area.

“Tommy! Where are you!?”, yelled Wilbur as he lifted the lids of pots to try and see if the Borrower was hiding in ingredients again. “Tommy!?”, he yelled again then noticed the out of place whisk in a mixing bowl, with Tommy struggling to breach the surface.

He then picked up Tommy, carefully yet playfully lifted him by the leg. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” he said with a playful tone. Tommy then began to spit out curses. “Fuck you! Lemme go dickhead!”.

“That’s how you greet your brother after not seeing him for months, Tommy?”. Tommy then stopped his struggles and looked to his brother, “No- I-“. Wilbur then laughed, “Calm down Toms- I’m just messing with you!”.

“Dickhead!”.

“Be quiet Gremlin since you’re covered in batter. I suppose we better get you cleaned up, huh?”.

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

Wilbur then lifted the boy above his mouth, smirking at his brother’s struggles. He then open his mouth, bringing his tongue out to taste him, he licked at the batter covering him, “Chocolate pudding? That’s always been one of my favourites!”.

He then carefully dropped Tommy into his mouth, feeling no struggle, he knew he had permission. So, he closed his mouth and poked his tongue at Tommy. To which his tongue got attacked by the playful struggles and hugs.

He then pinned Tommy to the top of his mouth, swallowing the chocolate pudding. He then opened his mouth to bring Tommy back out as his fingers carefully picked up the boy. Tommy complained as he was brought out of the mouth.

“What, you want to be swallowed?”. Tommy’s poutful expression was enough of an answer. “Alright! Alright!”. Then put the borrower back into his mouth. The once Chocolate pudding turning into a taste of Strawberry and Vanilla.

Soon, after tasting the borrower, he tilted his head back and was about to swallow. When the bang of the door scared the fuck out of Wilbur. “Wilbur!” Techno yelled, “We can’t find Tommy!”. His family soon joined the room.

The family stood as Wilbur almost toppled over, holding his throat and stomach. Tilting his head upwards as he began to choke. “Wilbur?!”, his father then ran over to Wilbur. He grabbed his son’s shoulders.

“T-tom-“. Wilbur choked out, Phil’s eyes widened as he realised what was happening. “Techno! Go grab water!”. Techno ran over to the sink, filling the cup to the brim and running over, handing the cup to Wilbur.

Wilbur gulped the water down, the lump in his throat moving as it finally made its way to his stomach. Wilbur panted as he finally got air into his lungs. “J-Jesus…”. Phil patted his back gently to soothe his son.

“Are you okay?”, he asked. “I-I’m fine”. Wilbur’s hand then suddenly moved down to his stomach, and he stared down at it. “Are you okay, Toms?”. “I almost died! Dickhead!”. Wilbur’s then rubbed his stomach in circles and sighed.

“Tommy’s fine too”. Then, he stood up with the help of his family and made their way home. Once he was in his room he put a hand to his stomach, feeling Tommy comfortably sleeping. ‘Yeah, sleep sounds good’. Then laid back, falling asleep himself.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #giant!wilbur #giant!phil #giant!techno #giant!kristin #tiny!tommy #tw vore #shushi's writings

114 notes · View notes

snootsnoot-fiction · 3 years

Text

Your Gentleman

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: None really

A/n: My first marvel fic yay!!! I love that it’s Bucky as well☺️ This is a birthday gift for my dear friend who I love @inthatmomentwewereinfinite 🎉🎉🎉 you’re honestly one of the nicest people on the planet, I hope you have the best day you can ❤️

Summary: You haven’t seen Bucky in years…

The life of one James Buchanan Barnes was quite the tragedy. At least for the most part.It was a long, involuntary life, but to say he wouldn’t be the least bit grateful for the majority time skip would be a lie. Oh, there were things “Bucky” Barnes missed of course, but there was plenty to make up for it.

The man thought he would lead a simple life; serve in the war, get married with Steve as his best man, maybe even die of old age. A far cry from the fate that really awaited him, for he found himself being part of the Red Skull’s experiment. An experiment that began his journey as who would infamously be known as The Winter Soldier.

~~~~~

You were quite the artist to say the least. You lived and enjoyed a fairly quiet life as well. That’s not to say your talents weren’t sought out, for you were also quite the fashion designer. Sometimes you would simply consult. Create and draw up a design for someone else to make. Occasionally you would make the pieces yourself. It was an interesting way of making money, and you were happy to keep living your quiet life - your involvement usually kept secret in some way at your request.

Needless to say, one of the biggest things you ever worked on was the new suit for Captain America. You found his tale fascinating. You knew of the man, but it wasn’t until you heard he was back that you looked into him a little more. Strange things seemed to be happening more often.

The detail of his best friend’s supposed ‘death’ was another thing that interested you, but all anyone could assume was he actually was dead now. It didn’t stop you from wondering though.

You did work on occasion for people such as The Avengers, but aside from that, you were a normal citizen. So to say you were surprised when you caught the eye of Mr Barnes in modern day was an understatement.

Recognising him immediately, you weren’t sure what to do. He looked beyond exhausted, and it was clear to you he was trying to keep his head down. The man carried on, and despite thinking you probably shouldn’t, you followed. The next thing you knew, a cold arm was pinning you against a wall as the one and only James Barnes stared at you. Up close, his eyes looked even tireder, and you could see just how rough a state he was in.

“Why are you following me?” He huffed out. Anyone could see how tense he was. Almost afraid.

“I’m no-one I swear! I just recognised you and got curious… you’re Bucky?” He slowly let you go, but remained tense. “I don’t even know what happened… you look awful…” you frowned slightly as you gave him a proper look. You really had no idea what was going on, but you felt bad for him. Whatever happened to this man, you were glad to not know right now.

~~ a few months later ~~

You wondered how people would react to finding out about you helping ‘The Winter Soldier’. The thought made you nervous sometimes, but you knew what you were doing to be right. Something in you from the moment you met him told you he himself was at no fault, but of course, not everyone would see it that way.

The day you met him, you had ended up giving him a fresh change of clothes that would help him to blend in more. You had offered more, even a meal, but trust would take time to build, and he didn’t want to stick around you too long.

‘Too many innocent people…’ was all he muttered before giving thanks and leaving without a word.

‘I’m happy to help…’ you hadn’t been sure if he even heard you, but surprisingly it wasn't long before you saw him again; with time, the two of you built a sense of trust. Bucky would never stay too long, but when he did you would allow him to use your own facilities if he needed, You would make him a warm meal almost every time, and give him another fresh change of clothes if he needed them.

Trust takes time though, and you didn’t know much of the story of why he was even here. You didn’t want to push or pry, but you couldn’t help but wonder sometimes.

Today was the day you’d learn.

The old soldier hesitantly stepped into your home. It always made you frown a little to see just how hesitant he was; whatever it was he was hiding from, you wish he didn’t have to.

“I know you don’t like to, but I made my sofa up for you just in case-”

“Sofa? The couch?” You went a little red and chuckled nervously.

“Yeah sorry, I didn’t grow up here..” and for the first time, you saw him smile. It was little, but it was there. It made your heart flutter just a bit, causing you to smile.

“I might take you up on that.” His words were quiet as he walked in to see the couch. You had set a single, plump pillow on one end, and laid your biggest blanket over the piece of furniture. Bucky had been so hesitant to talk even one word to anyone, nevermind taking refuge from someone, but he couldn’t even remember the last time he had a nice place or spot to sleep. Not only that, but you seemed genuine to him. Deep down he knew he could trust you. Your smile widened.

“Are you hungry?” At your question, he looked back at you with a small nod. The tired look in his eyes made you want to really look after him, but there was only so much you could do and you didn’t want to startle him.

That night, you sat on opposite ends of the couch as you ate a freshly cooked meal, some sitcom on the TV. Eventually you decided to ask him what had happened to land him here. There was no pressure to answer of course, and you were more than willing to forget you asked if he didn’t yet feel comfortable to tell his story… but he did. You listened patiently and quietly as Bucky talked about The Winter Soldier.

Little did you know just how far you had already fallen for this man.

~~ Avengers Civil War ~~

After hiding for so long, Bucky had to admit there was something refreshing about now being out in the open.Of course, the circumstances were most unfortunate, but whatever happened, he would no longer be in hiding. Therefore he wouldn’t be putting you in any more potential danger. The two of you had grown quite close, and if anything happened to you because of him, well.. he didn’t like to think about it.

People like himself existed and had been used to assassinate King T’Chaka, and now the group his best friend Steve had put together were trying to get to the guy behind all of this. Unfortunately Tony Stark had created an obstacle for them. The old soldier could see that both men were somewhat regretful, but firm in their beliefs. Before he knew it, the fighting had begun.

Bucky and Sam Wilson had hidden in the airport terminal to start when this kid in a red and blue costume came at them. Sam knocked the kid away, so Bucky ran after them, and when he reached them, he saw an opening and threw a chunk of metal at the weirdly flexible kid. Naturally this kid was able to throw it right on back before being tackled by Wilson again.

Reaching the both of them just in time, Bucky ran between them as the spider kid flung himself at Sam, landing both the men in the floor below and his metal arm in some sort of.. webbing. The old soldier hated the fact they ended up in this position because of a child who didn’t even sound as though he had hit puberty yet. That’s when the kid was thrown out the window by the little robot bird.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” he growled at Sam, genuinely annoyed with the guy.

“I hate you.” Bucky merely scoffed at the response. They were in the middle of something big, but for a brief moment he found it funny that Steve’s new friend was this guy of all people.

Despite all this, you were still there. In his mind. With everything now in the open, he hoped your part in all of this was still in the dark. He just wanted you safe. To live your life.

~~ present time ~~

To Bucky, it almost felt like his past had repeated somewhat; to skip from one time to the other was confusing and frustrating. At least this time around it wasn’t as far into the future as the last time.

For you, however, it was a lonely experience. With The Snap, you had stayed behind. You lived out those five years. You had found a connection with this older guy you absolutely adored, and then you find out he was snapped out of existence along with half the planet. Lonely was an understatement, especially at the start.

At least he didn’t physically die - a fact you turned out to be grateful for when suddenly all those who had been Snapped were back. Of course, you knew the type of life Bucky led beforehand, so you were still worried, but you hoped with time he would contact you again. That hopefully things had finally calmed down at least somewhat in the world now.

Meanwhile, in the last five years you had moved to New York. With half the world gone, work had been a difficult adjustment for everyone, and you decided to start your own little business in The Big Apple; a prime area for you. It was just a little fashion/clothing business, but it turned out well enough to keep you afloat. Business got quite busy when everyone reappeared. It was stressful at first, but you managed to hire a few other people that helped. You were even able to start taking a little time to yourself occasionally in all due time. Eventually it became the norm.

With business and the world calming down, Bucky Barnes had been on your mind recently. You wondered where he was, if he was alright.

You were in your store. It was a weirdly calm day today, so you sat on a chair behind the main cash register. You heard the door open, but by the time you looked up, the person had disappeared behind one of the clothing racks. You thought about keeping an eye on them, ready to get up if it looked like they needed assistance.

“I got ‘im.” One of your workers said from behind you, offering a smile as she walked past you.

“Thanks.” You smiled back, watching her hover near whoever the customer was before looking back down at the book in your hands. You seemed to get quite into the book, because before you knew it, a shadow stood over you, but you didn’t notice until he spoke.

“Hey..” the voice caused your heart to stop as your ears perked and a weird yet pleasant shiver flew down your spine. You knew that voice. You knew eventually you would see him again, but it was still a surprise.

Slowly, you closed the book, and your eyes dragged up until they were on that same face you had last seen way over five years ago now. His hair was short now, but it was him alright. It was Bucky.

The man offered a small smile and wave as you stared at him. You had no idea what to do.

“Uh.. this your place?”

“Yeah…”

“You’ve done well.”

“I’ve had a lot of time.” Your responses were automatic. Your mind was blank.

“Uuhh..”

“Bucky?” You stared at him with wide eyes, your voice triggered a slightly wider smile on his lips as he nodded.

“It’s been a while.” His words made you scoff loudly.

“You’re telling me!” The both of you chuckled. The last five years had felt so long for you, but the two of you were already falling back into your old dynamic.

“... Listen Y/N.. all that old stuff.. The Winter Soldier stuff… it’s gone now.” His words made you smile for him. You knew how much his past had troubled him. You doubted it was completely out of the way, but you knew what he meant.

“No more hiding?”

“No more hiding.” Bucky smiled, a look of genuine relief on his face.

Just then, a group of teen girls walked in and your smile disappeared for a moment.

“I’m at work. I’m the boss but I still gotta work, we can’t..”

“I know a place we can go to later if you want? Catch up?”

“I’d love to! I close up around six today, we can go after then.”

“Perfect! I’ll come back and we can walk there together.” You smiled and nodded, too shy to say anything else right now. Bucky smiled before turning around, looking back at you as he opened the door to leave. You gave him a little shy wave.

You spent the next few hours constantly thinking about Bucky and finally being able to see and talk to him again. Excited was an understatement. You were happy. Bucky was back. You were always too shy to say anything about what you felt, but absolute adoration was another understatement when it came to that man.

The clock had finally struck six. Your employees were now leaving, and you decided to check the store, make sure everything was alright before closing up. The same employee that had helped out earlier that day came up to you as you picked up your things.

“Your gentleman caller is waiting outside.” She had a knowing smile on her face. She even seemed kind of excited and she stood there and waited as you blushed.

“Thank you..” you attempted to avoid her gaze as you packed the rest of your things in your bag.

“I’ll tell him you won’t be long.” At that, you offered her a smile before she left and you took a moment to relax before following.

Bucky wasn’t right there as you left through the front, but when you turned back around after shutting and locking the place, there he was just a couple feet away from you. A small flower bouquet in his hand. Your heart melted at the sight.

“I know you’re not much of a flower person, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.. You know… with the time gap and all.. But these are your favourites.” Bucky looked almost nervous. You shyly stuck your hand out to take the bouquet, your fingers brushing against his as you did.

“They’re perfect, thank you.” A small smile tugged at your lips again as you looked at them before looking back to the man in front of you.

“I’ve missed you Y/N.”

“Me too.. You that is! I’ve missed you, not myself.” You blushed as Bucky chuckled at your flustered self. He then held out an arm.

“Shall we?” You hesitated before taking hold of his arm with your free hand, a feeling of happy warmth washing over you.

“We shall.”

Tagging; @blondekel77 @book-hoardingdragon @mandosmimi

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fluff #bucky barnes #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fluff #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier fluff

128 notes · View notes

nostalgiabones · 3 years

Text

Starting Line // L.H

It feels like SO long since I last did or posted any writing, but solo Luke has pulled me out of the woodwork! I’m so so proud of his new project and love Starting Line so much that it finally inspired me to write something. I feel like I’m a bit rusty with writing so thank you so much @calumrose and @calpops for helping me out with it! I hope you enjoy this & I would love to hear any thoughts on it!

Falling asleep next to Luke has become so normal, so part of your daily routine that when he’s not there, your body knows. The moments through the night where you’re briefly pulled from sleep for whatever reason no longer feel like disturbances when you’re met with the sight of Luke asleep next to you, instantly soothing you back to sleep. All you had to do was reach out, and he was never far away — a gentle kiss to assure you he was right there.

There’s no such sight tonight though.

The bedroom is dark, so for a moment you feel as though your eyes are tricking you, as Luke is always there. Although, there’s a small trickle of light through the room, streaming through the crack of the bedroom door, and it’s then you realise Luke must not have made it to bed yet. Petunia isn’t curled up in her bed at the far side of the room either, and you know she’s doing so in the studio down the hall.

It’s been several months since quarantine and lockdown began, and your lives have been turned upside down — forced to stay at home, tours cancelled and many, many virtual interviews taking over his life. At first Luke wrote over Zoom calls, and took his ideas into the studio when things opened up a little, but there was a constant nagging in the back of his mind that he needed something more. His mind was swirling with ideas that didn’t quite fit into what the band were doing. He’d had too much time at home, too much time to think, and he needed somewhere to put it so he could process it for himself. He’s too creative, he thinks too much — he needs an outlet.

Slipping out of bed, you grab one of Luke’s discarded hoodies, managing to put it on as you walk through the room still half asleep. It’s sometime in the early hours, but when Luke gets fixated on an idea, time is irrelevant. The light from the hall hurts your eyes, such a stark contrast from the dark bedroom. Your footsteps are quiet as you pad down the hall, not wanting to disturb him, but missing the familiar warmth of him sleeping next to you.

Standing in the doorway, he doesn’t acknowledge your presence — too focused on the keys in front of him, engrossed in what he’s playing. You faintly recognise the tune but now it has lyrics, he’s singing — and then you realise that why he’s not yet in bed. He’s hunched over the piano, his phone open next to him, assuming he’s recording little parts to play back later. There’s a lamp switched on in the corner, softening the room with a warm glow.

“I feel the walls are closing, I’m running out of time…” Luke’s tone is soft, almost like he’s mumbling, out of fear of waking you, or he’s just singing to himself. “I think I missed the gun at the starting line..”

You can just make out the words, and realise it’s purely his emotions - I feel, I think… and a part of you is relieved that he’s getting it down on paper, releasing his worries in the way he knows best. He gets too caught up in trying to understand himself sometimes, yet he avoids it too.

“Hey, rockstar,” You try to get his attention. When Luke lifts his head from the keyboard, there’s a concerned look on his face that he woke you up. There’s a smile too though, an amused one that always appears whenever you use that nickname. He gestures for you to come over, scooting along the bench of the piano so you could join him. You do — sitting as close as you could, resting your cheek on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around your back to keep you there. You wearing his clothes never gets old to him - it’s a reminder that whatever he has is also yours, that he wants to share everything with you; including whatever is on his mind. He hears you yawn and pulls you in closer, suddenly craving the feeling you came in search of, of being next to you.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Luke murmurs, his lips brushing your forehead in a silent hello. You shake your head, a free hand landing on his thigh in a reassuring gesture to say that it’s okay. “I didn’t realise what time it was.”

“You didn’t,” You reply, voice hoarse from the few hours of sleep that you did get. “I always wake up when you’re not next to me. You okay? That song sounds kinda sad.”

He laughs a little, looking at his phone to make sure he’s stopped the voice recording. “It’s not meant to be sad, more... reflective. It’s only acoustic so far, but I think I’ve got the lyrics down.”

He softly plays a few keys as you sit there, the gentle sound in combination with Luke humming under his breath next to you already sending you back to sleep. “You gonna send it to Ash to help out with the drums? Or are you leaving it acoustic?”

Luke hums thoughtfully, almost like he’s reluctant to tell you the answer — whether he’s sure he wants to say it out loud, because that makes it real. “I actually wasn’t going to involve them in this one.”

And there it is.

You had wondered if he’d ever go down this road himself, remembering how he had been inspired by Ashton’s solo works. Luke has been tied to the band since his early teens, he’s grown up in the band and barely had time to breathe until the last few months at home. You know he’s happy with the songs he’s written with the guys so far, but had the feeling he was wanting something a little more.

“How come?” You prompt, and even though you have an idea, you want to hear it from him.

“I just feel like I need to make sense of a lot of things,” He explains, almost as if he’s convincing himself too. “Having all this time at home has made me think about myself and who I am compared with who I used to be, and I need somewhere to work it out. I figured music is the best way to do that.”

He expects a bigger reaction from you, like it’s something so out of the norm that you’d question if he’s doing the right thing — but you don’t. You nod, and take one of his hands in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, to ease the nerves you sense he has.

“Well, you said it’s reflective, and what better time to reflect than when the world is at a standstill? I know you can create something amazing.” You assure him, the words whispered against his shoulder, and it’s all the convincing he needs. “Trust yourself, Luke. You’re way more talented than what you give yourself credit for.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his cheek resting on your head, just basking in the silence for a little while. As soon as he started to write this song there had been a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, that he wanted to keep it just for himself — he wanted to pour some of his anxieties into a song in the hopes of learning more about himself.

“You don’t think the guys will be offended, that I want to work on something for myself?” He asks you tentatively, and you know he already knows the answer to that.

You shake your head. “God, no, Luke. You were all very supportive of Ashton when he did Superbloom, why would it be any different for you? You know they’ll have your back no matter what. You’re best friends before anything else. You should talk to them about it, it’ll ease your mind.”

He hums in acknowledgement, a comforted smile on his lips at your words.

“Do you want to hear some more?” He asks, and you don’t even need to give him an answer. You murmur a reassurance of “of course” and he picks up again, feeling more certain of his craft now that he knows he has your support. He never doubted that you wouldn’t support him in whatever he wanted to do, but he thinks too much — he struggles to make sense of his thoughts, and it prompts him even more to want to create art from it.

You can already see how much it means to him, how he’s poured his heart into the lyrics he’s managed to put together. Throughout your relationship, you’ve gotten better at observing his feelings, and you know this is important to him. There’s pages full of scribbled lyrics in front of him, his hair is messy from running his fingers through it every time had gotten frustrated, and it’s clear he was determined to get something out of this song.

“Tell me, am I broken? I can never leave, biting on my tongue and checking if it bleeds,” He sings, the words clearer now he’s not in fear of waking you and of the words itself. “Is it lost on me? All the things I believe.”

It’s like he’s questioning himself with the lyrics as he sings, and as your eyes glance over the sheet in front of you, you notice a whole page of different thoughts and questions about everything — himself, his life and the band. All things that play on his mind constantly that he usually doesn’t have the time (or he occupies himself to avoid) to think about, all coming to the surface now the world is on pause.

“Take me alive, don’t look away until it’s gone, til it’s gone..”

Luke plays a few keys at the end before he turns to you, your face hidden against his shoulder. His fingertips brush your cheek before he lifts your face to look at him, and he’s not sure whether to smile or not when he’s met with unshed tears lining your eyes.

“Baby,” He murmurs, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours, his thumb softly brushing the first tear away as he slides down your cheek. “What’s with the tears?”

“That song is really beautiful,” You reply, sniffling to try and contain your emotions a little. He brushes his lips against yours in a sweet kiss, a sign of both his love and gratitude — and if just the first song has that affect on you, he knows he needs to pursue what’s in his heart. “It’s so pure, and so you. And I can’t wait to see what else you come up with.”

He feels like crying at your words and doesn’t know how to thank you enough for how supported you make him feel, no matter what he’s doing. “I love you, honey. Thanks for being on this journey with me.”

“Where else would I be?”

And when he finally makes it to bed, with you in his arms and a full heart, he’s content — he knows what he needs to pursue, and with you by his side, he knows he can do anything.

Don’t look away until it’s gone.

***

So there we are! I’d love to hear any feedback, I feel like I’m out of practice at writing lmao 🥺 Also I’m starting a new taglist, so if you’d like to be added to my new one, please fill out this Google form!

Masterlist

Taglist: @irwinkitten @wildflowergrae @luckyduckydoo @letstaketheups-and-downs @jazzyangel242 @cashworthy @babylon-corgis @norawashere @monsteramongmikey @late-nightdevil @maluminspace @fluffsshawn @xhaileyreneex @flowerthug @calpops @youngblood199456 @wokeupinjapanisabop @banditocth @cashtonasfuck @5-secondsofcolor @g-l-pierce @monsteramongmgc @calmlftv @mantlereid @treatallwithkindness @another-lonely-heart @calumrose @inlovehoodx @mermaidcashton @everydayimfangirling @b-easybreezy @ilumxna @malumsmermaid @opheliaaurora23 @talkfastromance4 @zhangyixingxing1 @everyscarisahealingplace @mateisit-balsamic @saphseoul @suchalonelysunflower @findingliam-o @castaway-cashton @megz1985 @notinthesameguey @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @metalandboybands @littledrummeraussie @vxlentinecal @itjustkindahappenedreally @queenalienscherrypie @xxxstormyninixxx @chicken-ona-stick @hoodhoran @harrys-shrooms @midnightash

#reblogs mean so much 🥺 it’s been a while!#luke hemmings blurbs #boyfriend!5sos blurbs #boyfriend 5sos blurbs #boyfriend!sos blurbs #luke hemmings fics #luke hemmings au #mywriting #myblurbs #boyfriend!luke #lhblurb #domestic 5sos blurbs #boyfriend!luke blurbs #boyfriend!luke blurb #5sos blurbs #5sos blurb #5sos fics

140 notes · View notes

ditttiiiwrecks · 3 years

Text

OT7 Fic Rec Master Post:

last updated (16/05/2021)

If my master-list is anything to go by I am clearly obsessed with ot7, so here are some of my favs.

Some of these stories are linked from Ao3. If any of those fics have been cross posted to Tumblr, please let me know.

Current Fic Count: 25

Give all these amazing authors some love ♡ & To all the authors, Thank you so much for writing. I am so beyond grateful for all the work and time that you put in to writing these stunning pieces of literary art.

This list is by no means complete, so if you have any recommendations, send em my way! ♡ Happy Reading!

~Love, @ditttiii ♡

1) Void by @btssavedmylifeblr

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

2) Make You Know Love by @btsismybiass

Summary: Growing up, Jungkook had always shared everything with his brothers; toys, food, clothing, friends, and even girls. The seven were inseparable — secrets were not allowed. Halfway through senior year, Jungkook was sent to a school halfway across the world, though he wouldn’t tell anyone (that didn’t already know) why. Years later, he has an adjoining apartment with his best friend (who is hopelessly in love with him) and 6 brothers he has yet to tell her about. One night, she comes barging into his home unannounced only to be met with a group of sexy foreign strangers.

3) Armed to the Fangs by @jingabitch

Summary: You grew up in the Hunter’s Guild, understanding that it is your sacred duty as a hunter to protect humanity from the vampires that lurk in the dark, draining the life from anyone unlucky enough to be caught. While making the rounds one night, you encounter Taehyung, a fabled born vampire - not that you know that when he tries to entice you into a dark alley. Next thing you know, you’re kidnapped and taken to their home, where you realise that all of them somehow crave your blood and seem to know more about your past than you do. Finding out about where you came from might be the key to setting humanity free.

4) Sanctuary by @softykooky

Summary: some people are lucky enough to be born into a family that loves them. others meet their family in a coffee shop while on the run from the korean ambassador, while they’re holding a man at gunpoint and beating him to a pulp for treason against their syndicate.

5) Eunoia by @wishesunderthestars

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

6) Tangled Hearts by @writersrealmbts

Summary: You have seven hybrids and life with them can be both good and stressful. Some days are better than others, but in the end, you know that they’re always there for you, in more ways than one.

7) Diamond Tears and Little Wings by @writersrealmbts

Summary: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?

8) Rose & Thorns by @minniepetals

Summary: a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other. and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

9) The Butter Series by @minniepetals

Summary: their names alone had every men and women turning their heads and falling at their feet. successful, prestigious, handsome, rich and untouchable to anyone that looked their way. and you? you were just an employee who worked for them. who would have known you meant so much more to them than you could ever imagine?

10) Stray Cat Strut by Bang to the Tan (TyphloticHaruspex)

Summary: When your grandmother passes away, she leaves her countryside house in your name. The longer you stay, the harder and harder it becomes to explain away the odd happenings. What kind of secrets does this sleepy town hold? And why do the local animals act so strangely around you?…

11) BACK HOME by @alexlwrites

Summary: : The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.

12) A Hundred Percent Human by Wrienne

Summary: In which you are forced to take care of seven hybrids in a twist of fate. After your estranged mother passes away, you're left with an unwanted will and the heavy burden of responsibility. Although you're desperate not to stray from the familiar path you thought was laid out in front of you with a fully human boyfriend who loves you more than anything, your life is thrown upside down once more after another unfortunate incident (that may or may not have to do with said boyfriend) occurs. Drunk and down on life, you finally decide to deal with the house and the unsavory business your mother left behind. However, to your shock, you find that seven very different hybrids are included with both the house - and the business. Seven hybrids you never even met before - even less agreed to take care of. Set in the not too distant future where infertility has become mankind's greatest issue. Will contain sexual content.

13) I’ll Still Stay by @sugamoonv

Summary: Y/N, living in a society where hybrids are seen as commonly as pets and working a well-paying job, finally decides to adopt a hybrid for herself. But what happens when instead of one new companion, she leaves with seven? And what happens when nature decides that these companions are meant to be more than that?

14) The Gateway to Your Heart by @justimajin

Summary: ❝You gave me the best of me, so you give you the best of you.❞

15) Like I Do by interlude__dream

Summary: It's summer in Seoul. You didn't expect much to happen during your nights working at a coffee shop, but somehow, giving one kid a sandwich wrapped up your fate with seven hungry boys more tightly than you could have ever imagined.

16) w e a r e a l l m a d h e r e by cath_mg

Summary: In which you're a model student who just managed to catch not just one, not two, but all seven 'transfer students' who just happened to visit your university.At the end of the road, will you stay or will you run? Or...

17) Follow Me Down by ARMY_BRAT

Summary: It was supposed to be a simple vacation to a foreign land. You certainly didn’t expect to wake up drugged and caged like an animal in the basement of seven beautiful men.

18) Sharing is Caring by always_bias_wrecked

Summary: You decide to let the rest of Bangtan watch you and your boyfriend Jimin have sex one time. Now suddenly everyone seems to want a piece of you, and Jimin doesn't seem to mind sharing.

19) Ruin Me, I Dare You. by porcelainbones

Summary: Where a regular wannabe author discovers the members of the biggest band in the world are her soulmates. All Seven. (not a reader insert)

20) Abundance by @angelicyoongie

Summary: You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don’t get along – but all want to stay with you. Yeah, it turns out crazy is an understatement.

21) You Never Walk Alone by @agustdakasuga

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

22) Accidental Friends by erakun

Summary: Meet Bangtan, international superstars, the pride of South Korea, the love and hope in the dark of many lives, the role model and celebrity crush of so many people, and a group of people you often stumble across in your day to day life. You become acquaintances, slowly become friends, and- that's it. You are in a platonic friendship with Bangtan. Let me say it again. *clears throat* PLATONIC.

23) Lifeline by @forgottenpasta

Summary: What happens when a witch curses seven vampires to share one fated mate between them?

24) Restitution by @cloudteawrites

Summary: When an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is.

25) The Lore of the Forest by spield

Summary: Nothing ancient and magical is ever really lost. When the descendants and heirs of the myths and legends come together to live a normal life, something - someone - is thrown into their plans. Bringing with them aid, magic and so much more.

594 notes · View notes

kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

little changes | i (miya atsumu)

➵ miya atsumu is the bane of your existence. but, that means different things at different times of your life.

PART TWO

wc: 6.9k (i know)

warnings: f!reader, cursing (too much tbh)

a/n: hi i couldn’t get this out of head so here you go,,, there’ll be a second part tomorrow

The first time you'd met, he'd pushed you into a puddle.

"Slow down!" You yelled, chest heaving as you tried to catch up to the two boys ahead of you. Even at seven years old, their legs were significantly longer than yours.

The twins scrambled to a stop, looking over their shoulders at you.

"Hurry up!" Atsumu yapped. "If you can't keep up, we're gonna leave you behind."

"That's unfair!" You pouted, stumbling to a stop in front of them. "You can't just leave me out!"

Atsumu stared at you for a moment.

One clean shove, and you were on your butt, muck and water splashing up around you.

"What'd you do that for?" You yapped, looking up at the boy with a glare strong enough to kill a god.

"You were bein' annoyin'."

"Hey!"

"That's not cool, 'Tsumu," Osamu sighed, holding out a hand to you.

Atsumu shrugged, letting out a long, exaggerated yawn.

That was the day you decided that Miya Atsumu was your arch-nemesis.

Not much had changed since that day. Miya Atsumu was, to put it lightly, the bane of your existence.

Middle school brought him no maturity. If anything, he got worse. He treated you like a nuisance, your friendship with Osamu be damned. But unfortunately, the two of them were rarely apart. And apparently being around you was better than being bored.

"You can't spike a ball for shit," he mumbled, shaking his head at you.

"Oi, language!"

"Shuddup," he rolled his eyes, turning his back to you. "You're so borin'."

He always called you that. Boring.

You glared at him, clenching your fists. You were just trying to play along with them. Sure, your volleyball skills left something to be desired. But Osamu didn't mind. And you wanted to play with your friend, his shitstain of a brother be damned.

"Yeah, well–" You sucked in your breath, trying to think of something very cruel – but not profane, because you're only eleven and swearing is one of the worst things you could do – to say to him. "You're a bastard!"

He looked over his shoulder at you, one eyebrow raised. Did his silence spell your victory?

"Pig."

Nope.

That was just the first of many monikers Miya Atsumu gave to you. He had so many, in fact, that it seemed he was allergic to calling you by your name. Pig seemed to be a particular favourite.

But, you always prided yourself on being tough. It took more than a few paltry words to do some real damage to you. And you were determined to not let Atsumu get the upper hand.

And yet, some days he did. They were rare, but they stung like nothing else. It was the days he got possessive. The days he told you to piss off, that he wanted to hang out with Osamu and he didn't want you there to ruin it.

You told yourself that it didn't matter. That you couldn't care less what he thought of you. But it wasn't enough to shift that awful little feeling that came with being told you were unwanted.

"Don't listen to him," Osamu sighed, hand clumsily patting your back. "He's just… like that. He sucks."

You sniffed, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Yeah."

You were just mad at yourself for crying. Thankfully, Atsumu had stalked off before you'd crumpled. But still. You'd let him get to you. You were better than that, right? Better than him.

"I still like you," Osamu swallowed, fumbling with the right words to say in a situation like this. "I'll beat him up for you, if you want."

You shook your head, a little too vigorously. "Nah, I don't want you to get into a fight with your brother because of me."

That's what it came down to, really. The feeling that you were in the way of something important. Of something that mattered more than you. The spiteful look Atsumu would shoot you whenever Osamu spent time with you instead of him hurt most.

Osamu shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. I really want an excuse to deck him in the face sometimes."

You giggled at that. It was the first time you'd smiled all day. "Thanks, 'Samu."

--------

With each year that passed, Miya Atsumu seemed to get worse. And with each year that passed, you were baffled.

How could someone have such a garbage personality? And worse yet, why was he blessed with such immense talent? You weren't an idiot, and you weren't the sort to deny credit when it was due. The twins were good. You knew jack-shit about volleyball – you'd sworn off it ever since Atsumu had been such a bastard about it – but you knew enough to know they were impressive.

They were just first years, but they were already on the starting line-up of the volleyball team. And you were quite proud of Osamu for that. It was nice to see other people recognising his talents. He'd been humble enough about it, too. Atsumu was another matter, but you'd developed something of a talent for tuning him out. So long as he wasn't insulting you directly, you could ignore him quite well. Life was much better for it.

The only bad thing about Osamu joining the volleyball team was the fact that he now hung out with them. Which wasn't a problem, per say; you were welcome to join, and they were all cordial enough. No, the issue was that sometimes spoke about girls. And nothing was more infuriating than hearing teenage boys advise one another on how to impress girls.

"You're saying I should just… ignore her?" One of the second years frowned at one of the older boys.

"Yeah," the third year nodded. "If you ignore her, she'll get all anxious about it, and she'll keep thinkin' about you."

"Huh," the second year nodded, blinking slowly. "Isn't that kind of… I dunno… mean?"

"Very," you mumbled.

"Huh?"

"If you do that, you'll seem like an asshole. Girls don't like guys like that," you sighed, head rested on Osamu's knee as you looked up at the sky.

Hanging out with the volleyball team wasn't high on your list of favourite activities. But, you had nothing better to do.

"I thought girls liked 'bad boys'," one of the third years laughed.

"I don't wanna make any generalisations," you shrugged. "But it's better if you're friends first. So you've gotta be nice to her."

You had absolutely no experience to speak of. But it seemed like the right thing to say.

"You're only saying that because you've got a thing for Osamu."

You hadn't planned on a murder today. But Suna had just changed your plans.

"Do not," you mumbled, shutting your eyes. Don't bite back, you thought to yourself. If you bite back, they'll just tease you more.

You'd actually thought about it, once. You were sixteen, after all, and ready to yearn. But, as hard as you'd tried to convince yourself that you felt something more for Osamu had fallen flat. The thought of kissing him made you laugh, when it should've made you blush. You hadn't mentioned that to him, though. Having a girl laugh at the thought of intimacy with you was probably at least a little humiliating, regardless of who she was.

"You're lying on him as we speak," one of the team snickered.

"Because I'm tired." You opened one eye to take a glance at the team. You took a moment to visualise punching them all in the face, one by one. It was almost rhapsodic. "You all suck."

"You're not even good enough for 'Samu, anyway."

Oh. Oh.

You bolted upright, glare immediately honing in on him. "Excuse me?"

Atsumu raised an eyebrow at you. "So you think you're good enough for him?"

You opened your mouth to reply. Fuck, you didn't have anything snappy to say. Was strangling him out of the question? Oh God, you could feel your face growing redder by the second. You needed to do something–

"Oi, don't use me as an excuse to make fun of her," Osamu sighed. "You don't really think that highly of me."

"That's cold, 'Samu," Atsumu grimaced. "You really think I'd be okay with you datin' this cow?"

"What did you just call me?"

"Do you like it more when I call you a pig?"

"What on earth gave you that idea, you bastard?"

Osamu rolled his eyes as the tirade began. Not a day went by without something like this happening. Atsumu said something contrarian, and you exploded like a little firecracker. You weren't the sort to start fights, usually. But there was something about Atsumu that always managed to get under your skin.

He'd hoped that finally entering high school would've taught Atsumu how to behave. He should've known to be wiser than to indulge himself in some wishful thinking.

"Does he always provoke her?" Aran asked, frowning.

Osamu nodded. "Uh huh. He gets a kick out of it."

"Hmm," Aran nodded, "knowing everything I do about Atsumu, that makes perfect sense."

"I keep tellin' her not to respond. It just eggs him on."

"Well, I guess it's kinda hard not to," Aran shrugged.

Osamu sighed. "Y'know, sometimes I just wish they'd get along."

Aran laughed, shaking his head. "Sorry man, can't see that happening any time soon."

--------

Being a teenager fucking sucked.

Getting dumped by an admittedly shitty boyfriend might've been some kind of rite of passage, but that didn't make it hurt any less. You'd tried to count your blessings, small as they may be. At least he hadn't dumped you over text, right?

Maybe it would've been better if he had dumped you over text. That would've given you a few hours at least to pull yourself together. Instead, he'd pulled you aside just before class had started, telling you that he was done with you. He hadn't even given you the chance to speak.

And then you'd had to walk into class and pretend everything was okay. A whole school day was far too long to try and pretend you had it together.

Behind the gym was the only place you'd managed to find the silence in which to mourn. You would've gone and cried in the bathroom if you could, but there was always someone in there. You didn't want to make a scene. And surely, nobody would come behind the gym.

"Oi."

Oh, fuck.

"What do you want?" You mumbled, lacking the courage to look at him.

"I was just tryin' to clear my head before practice," he said. "What're you doin' out here?”

"None of your business," you sniffed, your shoulders hunched and your fists scrunching the fabric of your skirt.

He sat down.

No. No, no, no.

"So," he cleared his throat, not quite looking at you. "I heard about… your ex."

"Great," you sniffed, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand. It'd already reached Atsumu? How much did he know?

"Are you… alright?" His voice was quiet, unsure.

"What do you think?" You hissed, drawing your knees up to your chest.

"Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just, uh… you've seemed kinda off today."

You shot him a look.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I just…" He sighed, hanging his head.

You pressed your lips together, trying to sift through the jumble of thoughts in your mind. It wasn't that you'd expected your relationship with that asshole to last. Far from it. You just hadn't expected it to go… like this. Not after he'd taken so much from you.

"It's just that–" The words escaped from you with a hitched breath. "It's just that… I gave him a lot, you know?" You took a deep breath. You weren't about to admit everything to fucking Atsumu of all people. But you just wanted to talk. To put the pain into words. "And he didn't have the decency to… to treat me with respect. He… He…"

"Did he hurt you?" Atsumu's tone was sharp; sharper than you'd ever heard it. He still wasn't looking directly at you. If anything, that was a small comfort.

"Not physically or anything," you shook your head, relaxing your fists. "It's just that he… he treated me like shit. And… and I liked him more than I should've, I know that, but…"

You made a valiant effort at swallowing the lump in your throat. "It just fucking sucks, you know?"

You don't know why you're telling him all this. You'd already said more than you'd wanted to. But damn, did it feel good to get it off your chest.

Did you seem a bit pathetic? Fuck it. Atsumu already thought poorly of you. Letting him see you like this wouldn't be a massive hit to your pride.

And, to his credit, he's listening. You think.

"I think–" You sniffed, taking a deep breath. This was the worst part of all. "I think he's been hooking up with Eiko. Or, at least, he's been trying to."

"What, really?" Oh, he'd looked pissed. You'd never seen this amount vitriol in his face before. Not even when he was arguing with you.

"Yeah." You nodded weakly. You knew it probably wasn't Eiko's fault. And even if she had 'seduced' him, he'd still chosen to dump you over it. You just didn't have the energy to direct your anger at anyone but him.

"Fuckin' piece of shit," he grumbled. You could see him clenching his fists. You'd never thought he'd get this angry on your behalf. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Don't." You nearly reached over to grab his arm. But, you didn't. "Please, I just… I just want this to pass, okay? I don't want to create a mess."

Atsumu stared at you for one long moment. You knew he was weighing up whether or not he should listen to you. Then, he sighed. "Fine."

"Thank you," you mumbled, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You didn't know what to say, now.

"Well," he cleared his throat, finally meeting your gaze, "if he tries anythin' with you, lemme know, okay?"

You blinked, your own brow just as furrowed as his.

"He's a pig," he grunted, "and… and you deserve better than that, 'kay?"

You stared at him. Had those words really just come from his mouth? "I thought I was the pig."

Atsumu said nothing. He doesn't know what to say. You'd never really interacted like this before. Without the barbs.

He wanted to say that, even though he makes fun of you all the time, you matter. Frankly, he doesn't really know what he'd do if you weren't there for him to pick on. He's used to you being around, you know? That bred at least a little fondness. And the thought that someone had genuinely, actually hurt you pissed him off.

But he doesn't say any of that. Because he doesn't know how to. Hell, he doesn't even know what that means.

"I, uh," he cleared his throat, standing to his feet. "I've gotta get back to practice."

He wants to tell you to text him if you need anything. But, he doesn't think that'll be very comforting, coming from him. So, he walked away.

"Hey, uh, Miya?"

He stopped in his tracks, just as surprised as you were. You never called him by his name.

"Could you, uh… could you keep this between us?" You asked, your throat alarmingly dry. "I'd rather 'Samu didn't know about this. I'm worried that… that he might do something stupid."

Atsumu looked over his shoulder at you. It's a small moment, a quiet one.

He just shrugs. "'Kay."

The next time you're watching them play, you're not just cheering for Osamu.

--------

It's over. Finally.

And you couldn't be more relieved.

Of course, you were going to miss your friends. And of course, all the changes that were about to come your way were fucking terrifying.

But high school sucked. And being a teenager sucked. You couldn't wait to move on from all of that. To make a real person of yourself. And you were going to Tokyo. Tokyo. You'd always lived in Hyogo; the thought of living somewhere so vastly different was downright exhilarating.

But before all that, you had to survive your goodbyes. You'd made it through the graduation ceremony well enough; in truth, you'd zoned out a little.

But now you were all outside, and it was finally time to say goodbye for good. And quite frankly, you hadn't expected to be so emotional. Honestly, you were just proud of yourself for keeping it together. Nobody else was crying – yet – and you'd be damned if you were the first person to lose composure.

You'd managed to say goodbye to most of your friends with a smile, and you'd even bid farewell to your beloved literature teacher without getting too miserable. Surely, there wouldn't be too many people left to see.

A flash of grey and yellow at your right.

Oh no. You had to speak to Osamu. That'd do it.

"Oi!" You called out, hurdling towards him.

Osamu turned around, raising a hand at you. Atsumu glanced in your direction, but he made no effort to greet you. Asshole.

"C'mere," Osamu smiled, opening his arms up.

You threw yourself into them, wrapping your arms around his neck as you supported yourself on your tip-toes. He smiled, chuckling in your ear. Good God, you were going to miss him.

"We did it," you smiled, squeezing him tight.

"Somehow." It was subtle, but you could feel the joy in his voice.

"Good job on getting into TSUJI," you beamed, dropping down as he released you from his grasp.

"Thanks," he smiled, reaching a hand up and ruffling your hair. "University of Tokyo’s nothin' to sniff at, you know."

You blushed, despite yourself. "Yeah, well…"

"Stop bein’ so humble," he said, punching you gently in the shoulder. "Make me proud, you hear?"

"You too."

And that's enough. That's all you need to say. He wasn't big on words, and that was okay. It had always been okay. You knew that you guys would stay friends. Even if everyone else fell away, if you drifted from all these people you held close… you knew you'd have 'Samu.

You heard a voice calling you. You straightened your shoulders, looking up at Osamu resolutely. "I'll see you this weekend, yeah?"

"Sure," he shrugged, nodding at you.

You smiled back, feeling that persistent sting at the corners of your eyes. Your eyes flicked over to Atsumu for just a moment. He'd turned away from you once you'd thrown your arms around Osamu, opting instead to speak to some of the first years. You wondered, for one short moment, if you should try and talk to him.

Nah.

You swallowed, turning around to walk towards whoever had called your name. If you spent any more time standing still, you might not be able to hold back the tears.

You felt a tug on your sleeve, pulling you downwards.

"Oi."

You'd know that voice anywhere. "You're so rude." You shot him a glare, straightening yourself out.

Things had mellowed out a little since that day behind the gym. You wouldn't go so far as to say you were friends; he was still abrasive, and you were still struck by the urge to punch him in the face whenever he came into your field of vision.

But his words had been a little gentler. Insults abounded, but he seemed a bit more mindful. Like he was checking your mood before pushing your buttons.

Or maybe you were just imagining it. Maybe you just wanted that weird little moment between the two of you to mean something.

"What do you want, Miya?" You sighed, after a long silence.

He'd just been standing there, completely silent. He hadn't even bit back. His lips were pursed as he stared at nothing in particular. What an earth is he thinking about? You wondered.

Then, finally, he looked at you. "Wanna live together?"

You froze. Why was he so… like this? "Excuse me?"

He shrugged, hands in his pockets and an obnoxiously bored look on his face. "That's easier than findin' a roommate, right? We already know each other, and we'll both be in Tokyo."

No congratulations. No words of kindness. Nothing. Just straight to business. You weren't sure if that or the offer he'd just made was more baffling.

You bit your lip. Could there be anything worse than living with this fool? Maybe you could end up with a shitty roommate – but he'd also be a shitty roommate. How much worse could a total stranger be?

"Hey. Dickhead."

You jumped, looking up to meet his eyes. "Oh, uh… Let me think about it."

"'Kay."

And then, he was gone.

'Kay? 'Kay? That's all he'd had to say to you? After asking you to live with him? How'd he even come up with that idea? Had Osamu told him to do it? Oh, maybe it was his parents. They were quite fond of you, after all. Perhaps they thought you could keep their son in line or something.

But that wasn't your responsibility! You didn't want it to be your responsibility!

You shook your head. No, you weren't going to let this dominate your thoughts. You would worry about Atsumu later. For now, you just had to focus on getting through the rest of today.

--------

Your reasons for living with Miya Atsumu were simple.

One: you'd avoid each other. Surely, even if you were in the same apartment, you'd give each other a wide enough berth to ensure some sense of privacy.

Two: you could live like an absolute pig and it wouldn't matter. Who cared if you didn't do your dishes that evening? It only affected him. And fuck him.

Three: you'd heard one too many horror stories about friendships being torn to pieces because of shit like this. You didn't want to risk that.

Four: you didn't want to live with a stranger.

Simple as that.

And those were the four reasons you'd told Osamu, in a paltry attempt to justify yourself. He'd been sceptical, of course – and he'd said, without an ounce of goodwill, "you don't know just how bad he is to live with" – but he hadn't tried to stop you.

But one semester was already over and done with. And things were fine.

Honestly, you were still surprised that he'd even asked this of you. But, his reasons were his own, and frankly, you didn't care what they were.

Yes, he lived like a pig. And God, you'd heard him in bed one too many times because apparently he doesn't know how to be quiet.

"It's not my fault you're not gettin' any," he'd say. You always wanted to bite back and say that you were getting more than enough, thank you very much. You were just polite enough to be quiet. But, you always decided – quite wisely – that it wasn't an argument worth getting into.

But, there's something about the freedom of simply not caring if your roommate would get mad at you for some stupid mistake that made it all worth it. You were allowed to fuck up, to make all those silly mistakes every did in that transitory stage from high school to adulthood. Nothing you could do would ruin an important friendship.

You got to learn how to be a decent person without the consequences.

"Would ya mind if I had some friends over?"

Believe it or not, but this was a big step for him. A few weeks ago, and he would've just brought them over, your feelings be damned.

"When?"

"Thursday evenin'."

"What for?"

"Just catchin' up," he shrugged.

"Is this you asking me if I'm okay with it, or is it you asking me to get out of the house?" You raised an eyebrow at him, stirring your tea.

He flashed you a grin.

You rolled your eyes. "Really?"

"Come on," he propped his chin up on his fist, beaming at you from across the kitchen counter. "Surely, you don't wanna be around when there's a buncha guys in the apartment. Do you?"

"So you're going to bring them over regardless of what I say?"

Nevermind. This wasn't a step for him at all.

"Essentially," he shrugged.

You groaned, lolling your head back.

"Can't you just go to the library or somethin'?" He pouted.

"I don't have any assignments to work on," you frowned. "It's literally only week two."

"Aren't you always tellin' me it's better to get ahead early?" He raised an eyebrow at him.

You narrowed your eyes at him, biting the inside of your cheek. "Week two's overkill."

"Well, just… do your weekly readings or somethin'."

"I'd rather do them from the comfort of my own bed."

Atsumu groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I already told 'em they could come over."

Oh, you were so ready to throttle him.

"Can't you just… make yourself busy?" He shrugged. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable or anythin'."

"You should've thought about that before inviting them over," you growled. "Shit, what are you planning on getting up to, anyway?"

He shrugged. "It'll just stress you out."

"Miya, what the fuck–"

"One of the guys thinks you're hot."

You blinked. He really knew how to be blunt, didn't he?

"And?"

"I can't promise he won't try'n hit on you."

"Yeah, and?"

Atsumu shrugged. "I dunno. I just… thought you might be a bit uncomfortable with that."

"How does he even know what I look like?"

"I showed 'em a photo."

Oh God. Of course he did.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"I mentioned that my roommate's a chick. They wanted to see."

"Miya," you sighed, gripping your own hair. "What – and I cannot stress this enough – the fuck?"

"It didn't seem like a big deal at the time," he tilted his head at you, smiling. "I mean, I'm just as surprised at you that someone finds you attractive–"

"Shut up."

"– but I just thought you should know. Clear things up before they get too awkward, you know?"

No, you didn't.

But, you didn't really want to have this conversation anymore.

"Fine," you sighed, turning to pour the rest of your tea down the sink. For some reason, you didn't really want it anymore. "I'll find something to do."

Shouldn't be too hard. Maybe a bar or a pub would have a student's night. Maybe one of your friends would be free. There was always something to do in the city.

"I owe you one," Atsumu grinned. You had half a mind to knock his teeth out then and there.

"You really do," you sighed, rinsing your cup out.

"Already got something in mind."

"Sounds like there's a catch," you mumbled, looking over your shoulder at him.

"No catch," he held his hands up, giving you what you assumed was his best smile.

"Has anyone ever told you you've got an untrustworthy face, Miya?"

"All the time," he grinned. "Nah, but really. No catch."

You titled your head at him, waiting for a proposal of some kind.

"I'll buy you pizza."

You scoffed. "Really? That's your consolation?"

"I'll get you the expensive shit," he shrugged. "Friday night. Promise."

"Can you even afford anything that's not from the cheapskate menu?"

"Can you?"

You shrugged at that one.

"Nah, I promise, it'll be good," he sighed. "I'll make it worth it, 'kay?"

--------

Friday nights were for Atsumu.

You weren't quite sure how it started. Something to do with him being exhausted from volleyball practice. Something to do with you being exhausted from university. Something else about how neither of you had any energy left to go out and socialise.

Whatever it was, you'd settled into a comfortable rhythm. Friday night, pizza, and a shitty movie.

These days, you actually liked having him around. Not that you were going to admit to it, though. No, you'd rather die than do anything like that.

You weren't quite sure why you'd suddenly adjusted to him. Was it because you'd known him for so long? Even if he was an absolute nuisance, he was familiar. Someone you could be a goblin around, without having to worry about him wanting to end your friendship over it. No, you'd been involved with each other far too long for that.

And honestly, it was kind of nice to have someone to relax around. While you'd managed to find some people you clicked with at university… making friends was hard. There was no-one you could be an absolute pig with yet.

So, Atsumu would do for now.

You'd just finished watching Neil Breen's Fateful Findings. It had been surprisingly easy to find a copy with Japanese subtitles; that being said, you didn't feel it had given you any clarity as to what was actually going on. Atsumu had loved it, though. He'd already tried throwing some of the quotes back at you. That was sure to make him harder to live with for at least the next week or two.

"Wanna play Smash?" He was sprawled out on the couch, looking at you with a painfully cocky expression.

"Absolutely not."

"Worried I'll beat your ass again?" Did he have to smirk after every second thing he said?

You glared at him. "Wanna say that to my face?"

He grinned, turning to face you head on. "Worried I'll beat your ass again?"

"I was having an off day," you mumbled.

"Wanna prove that, or…"

You bit the inside of your cheek. If you did play, there were two possible outcomes. The first was that you won. If you won, it'd shut him up, and you could go on with your pride more or less intact. The second was that you lost. And you weren't quite sure if you could handle his ego.

"I'll prove it to you right now," you snapped. "On this couch, with my fists."

He blinked at you.

"You're going down for good, Miya."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "I'm gonna make you squirm like the worm you are."

He laughed. A real, genuine laugh. The sort that relieved all tension from his body, erasing any hint of his usual insufferable expression.

He was actually kind of handsome.

You'd always known he had a nice body – you weren't blind, you were just too proud to admit it. And it'd gotten even nicer since graduation. Practice paid off, it seemed.

And there was something appealing about his relaxed air. About how he didn't seem to take life too seriously. It almost made him enjoyable to be around.

Maybe that's why so many girls were interested in him.

Wait, no. They only liked him because they hadn't spoken to him yet.

Oh, right. Girls.

Something shifted in your chest. Something you had never noticed before. Something so quiet, so understated that you hadn't even realised it had made its way in there.

Oh God, you thought, what the fuck is happening to me?

Whatever it was, you didn't like it.

Miya Atsumu was hot. That, unfortunately, was a fact you were now uncomfortably aware of.

"Oi." A hand was being waved in front of your face. You jumped. "Pay attention, you pig."

Oh, nope. There he was. There's the Atsumu you were used to.

"You're a fucking bastard," you mumbled, shrinking into yourself.

You're weren't quite sure what you were saying. You'd just flicked onto autopilot. But you knew that your words were comfortable, familiar. Little insults that a child would throw around. Anything to stave off whatever that weird stirring in your stomach was.

--------

In many ways, realising Miya Atsumu was actually kind of hot ruined your life.

Were you being over-dramatic? Probably. But had things changed? Definitely. To a large extent, it was on you; glances stolen when he wasn't looking, your mind wandering to places it really shouldn't.

But he'd been acting up, too. Standing far too close to you when you were in the kitchen – close enough that you could feel his chest against your back, reaching over your head to grab a cup while damn-near draping his body over you, walking around without a shirt on in the common area…

One time, when you'd dressed up all nice for a friend's birthday, he'd brazenly checked you out. He hadn't said anything – he'd just stared. When you asked him what was wrong, he just shrugged and told you to have fun. And, of course, he'd smirked at you. You'd been ready and willing to kill him.

Whenever you were on the couch, he always seemed to reach over you and take the remote himself instead of simply asking you to hand it to him. And sure, that wasn't all too weird – but he tended to get really close, and catch your eye for just a moment with that little smirk on his lips. Each and every time, you felt like you were going to explode.

You'd taken to sticking pillows between you on the couch, because you wouldn't be surprised if he decided to lay his head on your lap or some shit on a whim.

Maybe he was messing with you, but this sort of behaviour wasn't totally un-Atsumu. You'd seen him act like this with people before. It's just that you two had never really been close enough to warrant it. Was it just a symptom of the fact that you guys were kind of friends now? Was he just treating you like everyone else?

But some part of you was even angrier at that. You didn't want to be treated like everyone else.

God, you felt stupid for even feeling like that. Especially when you'd had an awkward morning chat with a few of his bedfellows – where each and every time, you couldn't help but marvel at the fact that he was punching so far above his weight. How on earth were people this beautiful paying attention to him?

That was starting to make more and more sense recently.

You tried not to think about it.

But that was getting harder and harder to you. You'd been kind of lonely. Some quiet part of you wanted a serious relationship; someone to come home to of an evening, to relax and unwind with. You'd even been actively looking. Not that you were about to admit that to anyone.

But men are shit. Especially ones in their early twenties.

But as resolutely as you believed that, there you were, preparing for yet another date. You'd have a particularly messy string of disasters recently; men who did little more than stare at your tits, men who had nothing interesting to say, men who thought that being an asshole was a personality…

Tonight, you hoped, would be different. Sure, you'd met this guy in an econ elective – you'd needed something easy to bring your GPA up – and that certainly wasn't a point in his favour. But, he'd taken in interest in you, despite the fact you'd never really spoken before. A few months ago, you might've turned him down. But surely he'd be better than the drivel Tinder unfailingly turned out.

Only problem was that he wanted to go somewhere chic. Somewhere fancy. Somewhere that was, quite frankly, out of your comfort zone.

"Another date?" Atsumu scoffed, leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom.

"What's it to you?" You grumbled, leant in close to the bathroom mirror. You couldn't get your makeup to look how you wanted it to; everything just seemed a little wonky, a little uneven. And your foundation hadn't settled nicely into your face. It just sat there, a tacky second skin you just wanted to slough off.

"Nothin'," Atsumu shrugged. "You've just never gone out on a Friday before."

Oh. That's right.

You shrugged, biting your cheek. "It's the only day he could get a reservation." In truth, you hadn't even thought about it.

"Same guy as before?"

You shook your head. You couldn't actually remember the last guy you'd told Atsumu about. The amount of bad dates you'd been on was getting embarrassing. "Nah. This one's a classy bastard."

He snorted. "You're kiddin', right?"

You shook your head. "I'm going to have to let him pay for the date because I genuinely don't think I can afford it."

"Yikes," he chuckled. "You know, I never really took you for a gold digger."

You had half a mind to throw your mascara at him. "Shut up."

"If you keep faffin', you'll be late."

Shit, He was right. You checked your phone. 5:25. You had five minutes to leave. You picked it up and made your way to the door, ready to squeeze past Atsumu. You turned, dashing back to the mirror and poking at your hair.

"Stop worryin'," he chuckled, waving a hand at you as he began to walk away. "You look nice."

Those words stuck with you all the way to the restaurant. They were so simple, so innocuous, but… They were touching, coming from him.

And when your date was talking to you about something you simply didn't find interesting, you couldn't get that look on Atsumu's face out of your head.

--------

The date was a veritable disaster. Possibly the worst you'd had in a while.

First of all, the guy was a total asshole. And not just the Atsumu kind – no, this one was rich. He'd had his entire life handed to him on a silver platter, and it showed. You could tolerate it, at first. But when he'd literally said, "I don't think the poor should be allowed to vote," you knew you couldn't stick around.

Second of all, you couldn't stop thinking of Atsumu and his damn smirk.

You'd gotten up without even giving your date an explanation. You'd stormed out of the restaurant in a rage, resolute on walking all the way home.

Why did it always turn out this way? The guys were either assholes, or far too self-centred for a proper relationship. If they were neither of those things, there was just no chemistry between the two of you.

God, were you the problem? Were good people just not attracted to you?

What were you supposed to do?

To top it all off, it began to rain when you were just halfway home.

As you slammed the door, you looked as awful as you felt.

Atsumu flinched, sprawled out in front of the television. He sat up a little straighter, looking at you from over the back of the couch.

"Yikes!" He scoffed. "You look like shit!"

Your breath caught in your throat. No. No, you weren't going to take this from him right now. Not tonight.

"Y'know, you wouldn't've gotten rained off if you'd just stayed in," he chuckled, propelling himself off the couch and ambling his way over to you. "What a waste…"

He came to a stop in front of you, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants. He had that look on his face; that insufferable smirk he whipped out whenever he'd beaten you in something menial. That smirk that, in any other circumstance, would've made you want to punch him. But tonight, it just made you want to cry.

"You haven't said anythin'," he frowned, tilting his head at you. "You okay?"

You wanted to lie. You wanted to tell him that it was fine, that the mascara dappling your cheeks was just the result of the rain.

But you couldn't. You couldn't get the words out of your mouth.

You took a deep breath.

You stopped breathing. His arms were around you, pulling you into his chest. It was rough, the embrace of someone who wasn't used to tenderness. There's this strange stiffness to it, an admission that he doesn't really know what he's doing. But as he rests his head on your chin, you couldn't be more grateful for his efforts. Your hands found their way to his chest, balled up and tense.

"Hey," he mumbled, "hey. It's going to be okay."

You looked up at him, your throat sore from holding back a sob and eyes stinging from unshed tears.

Maybe it's because you're emotional. Or because you're tired. Or maybe it's because you're lonely, and he said a few nice things to you today.

You kissed him.

It's hot, open-mouthed as your fists grasped his shirt, pulling him down to meet you.

Your head is swimming; what the fuck is happening?

His arms tensed around you, his lips moving to meet yours.

This is what you want. This is what you've wanted for a while now. You hadn't wanted to go on all those shitty dates. You hadn't wanted to waste your time with men you didn't care about. What you'd wanted was–

He froze.

So did you.

His hands are holding your forearms firmly as he stepped back, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"No, baby." He shook his head. "Not like this."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You flew down the hall, slamming your bedroom door.

You sank to the floor, arms finding their way around your knees. You didn't want to cry. You didn't want to dignify this evening with that. You weren't going to pity your own shitty mistakes.

Fuck the date. That wasn't even the worst part of the night.

You'd just kissed Miya fucking Atsumu. Things were finally going okay between the two of you. He'd been treating you like a human being.

And now you'd ruined it.

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu imagines #atsumu scenarios #atsumu imagines #haikyuuwritersnet #IDK WHAT TAGS ARE #also i can't believe i'm putting in this much effort for atsumu #mayhaps i enjoy him a little #ANYWAY here's part one of my labour of love #2nd part's up tomorrow!

2K notes · View notes