#Carrie: she literally says you’re an idiot all the time. only I get to call you that! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

buckyysdoll · 9 months

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— 𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐜𝐬 —

જ⁀➴ — summary: self explanatory; a/n: i’m down SO bad for him <3 -> @bakersbucky + @jvanilly — tagged for ur comments on the dating bucky hcs! <3; cw: light allusions to smut, canon-typical ref to bucky’s nightmares/trauma; pairing: bucky x f!reader

MAIN MASTERLIST

• of course he cried when you told him — he never thought he’d have OR deserve a happy ending :’)

• he secretly wants a daughter so he can spoil both his girls, and he’s privately dreamt for years about the family you’d one day have

• but there’s just something about him seeing your face reflected in his little girl’s 😭 and knowing she’d have your eyes, your smile, and all those parts he adored

• “she’s gonna have your eyes, and your laugh. and i’m gonna love the two of you until i take my last breath on this earth” *😭*

• and so as your baby grows within you, you two stay up late at night in bed talking — he’s tracing the curve of your stomach so softly with his ordinary hand as he’s saying, oh she’s definitely a girl.

• or the conversation goes something like this:

— b: [whispers] i just can’t wait to meet her

— you: [smiling like a lovesick idiot] her? you think she’s a girl?

— b: of course she is, doll, i can feel it.

— you: [smiling even wider] yeah? and how could you possibly know?

— b: i’m a super soldier sweetheart. call it instinct😌

• talks to the bump, sleeps with a hand on your stomach, mother hens you so much

• bucky’d be very precious with you when it came to sex because of his strength - saying “what if i hurt our little bump?” - when meanwhile you’re laying there horny as fuck

• and so you say, “sweetheart, as much as i love you for this i am begging you to take off your shirt”

• at first, he also won’t touch you with his vibranium arm when you’re pregnant

• and with you being you — his wife — of course you notice

• and so you gently take that hand in yours and lay it on your bump and he just weeps that he can have this after all he’s seen and done

• bucky also definitely tries to make up random diy baby bits in the middle of the night

• and you tease him for how frustrated he gets with this furniture from “fucking ikea”

• especially when he then accidentally underestimates his strength and snaps the damn thing in half

• he carries you everywhere — “bucky i’m pregnant, i still have legs” // “and you also have a husband that can do the walking for you”

• gives you massages every night, wherever u want them [;) <3]

• reads literally all the baby books he can get his hands on and gets in a panic at the slightest pain or cramp — frets, “it didn’t say this in the book” or otherwise, “just breathe, doll, alright? i’ll hold you through it”

• the darker, more possessive side of him that he never quite lost (and that you loved) absolutely thrills that you’re pregnant with his child, but he tries hard to bury that part of him — though you absolutely fold at that look on his face

• in truth, he went so quiet and inward when he found out the news and u thought he wasn’t happy

• when really he’s just so fucking scared cos after all this time he still doesn’t see himself as safe

• he’ll stay up hours refusing to sleep so he can just count your breaths, and protect you. his Winter Soldier past came back full force, and hence so did that protective, defensive side. he would’ve killed for his girls.

• “what if something happens? *his voice cracks* what if i hurt our child?” 😭 and his nightmares now reflect this new fear — night terrors have him up at night, eyes wide and skin slick with sweat.

• so when he has them and you need your sleep the further along you get, he sneaks off into the living room to sleep on the couch instead

• and you’d wake up every time and seem to sense that he’s not there — or your baby kicks as if she wants to tell you bucky’s gone

• cos you know he’s not the only one that’s protective of the love of his life <3 — n you say “who’s the super soldier now, huh? you can’t get away from me that easy <3”

• because the morning then finds him with your arms around his middle as you’d scooted to lay behind him on the sofa, your bump to his back.

• your marriage was a two way street and you’d be damned if he didn’t let you comfort him, too. and it’s only when your baby kicks hard at your stomach at the moment that his metal hand was on it, that he’s convinced at last — even if only a little bit, yet — that before she’s even born, his daughter trusts him

• cos it turns out he was right that she’s a girl, his babygirl <3

• bucky’ll come home from a mission and drop his bag straight to the hardwood floor, asking “how are my girls?” with tears in his voice, before kissing your lips, then your bump*

• he gets incredibly soft and clingy — even more so than normal — every time he gets home. He’ll bury his head in your neck and just listen to your heart, hear the proof that you’re with him

• he loves her to bits even before she’s born, and he’s such a total girl dad already. he even loves her more than life when you’ve almost hit full term, and while kissing his way down your body she deliberately kicks — cockblocking her daddy.

• you laugh and you’re so so in love when he leans down and whispers, “excuse me, little one. this is a moment between me and your mother.” but it’s just no good cos every time you get closer to that point, you’re interrupted.

• he always gives in to your weird cravings, and will run to the store no matter what the time is. and if he ever gives you that look because you’re eating pickles straight from the jar, you’ll fix him with a look of your own and say, “honey you lived through world war two, i know you ate weirder shit than this”

• you always wear his shirts around the house with just your undies, and dear god it makes him so. fucking. horny

• it gets him so so proud, so protective and possessive

• speaking of, those aforementioned missions he goes on from now on? he’s absolutely insufferable

• sam teases him no end for it, but really his heart warms for his friend. especially when he’s on the phone mid-fight asking you to put the phone to your bump so he can talk to his little girl

• it’ll either be, “i just needed to hear your voice, doll”// or conversely, “i want her to know my voice” -> the two of you are his whole entire world

• so within no time at all, he flat out refuses to do them at all — he semi-retires and sam understands; he’s secretly proud of him too, just like you.

• bucky is genuinely the world’s most amazing father and you’re so, so honoured to call him the dad to your little girl

• you’re always walking in on tea parties between the two of them, and you’d be jealous at how close they are if you didn’t adore it so fucking much. she’s a daddy’s girl through n through, and who could ever blame her? you were bucky’s girl too <3

• in fact, you once walked in (it’s happened often) on her fully doing her daddy’s makeup, sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor when you come home after a shift. you couldn’t help but just stand there in the doorway crying happy, happy tears at this new life that you’d made

• it was such a far cry from the darkness you know that he’d felt for so much of his life

• and if he still takes on some missions when he has little choice, once his daughter is born? he proudly goes off to fight fascists with the remnants of pink nail polish on his fingers

• or better still, sometimes there’s glitter still left on his cheeks from the makeover he’d gotten the night before

• calls your baby “sweetheart” n has nicknames just for her — “babygirl”

• he lets you sleep with a soft “i’ll get her, love” when your daughter can’t yet sleep through the night. and you see him, the White Wolf, the ex-Winter Soldier with that smile on his face, rocking his daughter in his arms and you just think — who ever would’ve known?

• your love, your beautiful husband, had come so far from the person he’d been. bucky had healed, day by day and step by step with you walking beside him

• idea from that post i saw yrs ago on pinterest — she grows up thinking her mom’s name is “doll” because that’s what she hears her daddy call you. and it’s hilarious the first time it happens, cos she’d only just really begun to talk — and what does she say when you fill up her bottle of juice? “thank you, doll” in that little baby voice.

• bucky just burst out laughing, and you joined him. that absolute smartass <3

• your daughter grows up to you two being those parents that are embarrassingly, sickeningly in love, but that are a safe space in the home that they’ve made for her friends, if they need somewhere to stay.

• and being an ex-avenger who looks the way he does 👀 you’d be lying if you said he hadn’t become a well-renowned dilf to her friends

• his arc with you is exactly just like bucky by the end of tfatws🥲 he goes through so much growth and it’s so, so beautiful. he’s so beautiful

• and he does the arm thing, where your little girl just clings to him like a koala. she’ll giggle like hell and that’s just why he does it — so he can see the smile she inherited from you in his beautiful girl.

• even if the first time you walked in on it happening, you just were a little like 😵‍💫 honey, why are you swinging our daughter around?

• he carries her on his shoulders around the house just because she loves it <3

• and he loves you both enough that he soon starts to love himself <3

✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

1K notes · View notes

demonicbaby666 · 9 months

Note

Can i pls request, Reader and JJ are arguing, Reader confesses her feelings in the heat of the moment, and JJ kisses her. (Jennifer Jareau x reader)

Flirt

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff and bit of angst

Words: 4k+

Warnings: swearing and that’s about it

Summary: You and Emily flirt. It’s never amounted to anything and you’re more than happy about that because it’s all fun and games. Though everyone on the team seems to enjoy the laughs that come from all the interactions the two of you share, one person has never seemed that amused. JJ.

A/n: I’m not sure if this is the vibe you wanted but I hope you enjoy nevertheless! <3

It’s standard, expected even. Friends flirt, and it’s an unspoken agreement, but very much known, it’s all fun and games. The fact that Morgan and Garcia had subjected the whole department to a workplace seminar on appropriate work etiquette - chocolate thunder is not nearly heard as much these days - made you feel a hell of a lot better about the one-liners you and Emily throw at each other on a daily/hourly basis.

The work-wives dynamic you have going isn’t just fun. In truth, it makes workdays easier. The heavy loads brought on by cases take their toll on everyone, and, it’s fair to say, a laugh never hurts. No one on the team minds, well, almost everyone. Hotch, Morgan, Rossi and even Spencer all laugh along, encouraging nicknames, adopting them at times, but not JJ.

She’s never outwardly said anything. Then again, she never needs to. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she never laughs, smiles, or gets involved in the flirtatious banter you and Emily have. At first, it was easy to push aside and ignore, but after around four months of cheeky remarks from Emily and yourself and six months of working with the team, it’s hard not to pick up on the less-than-subtle eye rolls and disdain.

When the two of you are alone, it’s okay. It’s nice. You’ll joke, and now and then, she’ll throw around a particular comment that’ll make you blush, and it’s something you do in return. It remains a rarity, though. And you’re glad for it. Not because you don’t like JJ in that way. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. When JJ compliments you, you feel it all over your body, and you’re sure she sees it. It’s not nothing, and that’s dangerous in a place where workplace relationships are more of a no-no than a yes-yes.

In the office, no matter how hard you try to avoid her, you always bump into her, sometimes quite literally. The coffee you spilt on her white shirt you can still smell. It’s a fond memory, which is unexpected, but that’s only because the moment JJ looked at you, her lips curled up at the sides, and you’d both burst into fits of laughter before she asked to borrow a top from your go bag, a top you’d yet to get back, you never ask though.

JJ mainly keeps to her office, buried in mountains of paperwork. The few times she ventures out to talk to Hotch or visit Garcia, and you happen to run into her, it usually results in you stammering and sounding like a complete idiot, your words running away from you. It’s astonishing how easy it comes to you with Emily and with JJ, nothing. How it is you have blossoming feelings for JJ and can barely function and would sooner hit Emily over the head with a frying pan than kiss her - though you know she certainly wouldn’t disappoint - and can charm her to your wit's end, you don’t know. You know for sure that it’s inconceivably and utterly torturous.

“Hey, short stack,” Emily calls out when you're in her eye line. She’s carrying what is probably, her third coffee of the morning, if not her fourth or fifth, judging by the pep in her step at 9 am. She drifts towards your desk, wafting memories of laughter through rising steam.

“Where’s mine?” You nod to the mug in her hand and try to avoid yawning.

It’s a joke, and maybe it’s the early morning, or the caffeine has fried her brain, but Emily doesn't register that. She looks down at her coffee, back at you, repeats the process another two times, and then unceremoniously shoves the piping hot brown beverage at you. It spills over the rim, she hisses, and you chuckle. Compassion doesn’t come easy when you’re uncaffeinated and sleep deprived.

“Nuh-uh. That has enough sweetener in it to kill a small child.”

“Good thing you only act like a child then,” she playfully jabs, still holding out the coffee. It’s a generous offer, spur of the moment offer, but generous nonetheless.

Alas, you decline. Dropping your bags and shaking your head from side to side, you let out an amused sigh, “I’ll make my own love.”

The coffee machine isn’t far, and it’s non-negligible that you’re in dire need of caffeine, so you start walking over, assuming Emily is following close behind as usual. “Do we have a case?” you don’t bother turning, knowing she’ll be craning over your shoulder any second.

“Yup.” It’s not Emily, though, “I’ll be coming with you guys on this one.”

Turning slowly, you smile at JJ. With her sudden presence still registering, you don’t even want to think about how forced your smile may appear, even if it is genuine, “It’ll be good to have you around.”

She steps closer to grab a stirrer, and you ignore the tension working its way down your spine.

“It'll be nice to be around.” she smiles, and your knees go weak. There's something about her smile. Big, small, soft, forced, it’s never mattered. Every time your legs become jelly, and your heart beats faster.

It's a mystery how she has this much effect on you after six months. It's like the whole world goes hazy. All that matters is JJ, then before you know it, words aren't wording, and you're not, well, you-ing.

You’re saved by Hotch catching your eye as he darts from his office to the briefing room. He waves a file, and the team makes their way over. You try not to stare at JJ walking in front of you. Her hair’s swaying, and if you don't avert your gaze, she's sure to turn around and catch you. There's a little voice inside you. It's telling you not to look away because if she does turn around, you'll see those eyes again, and your tummy will do that weird flippy thing that you'd only ever admit to yourself you've grown to love.

Pull yourself together! You scream to the insipid voice in your head.

You manage to look away. Appreciate the clarity of not being lovesick for two seconds before Emily swoops in, loops her arm through yours and forcibly skips you both into the room. It gets a chuckle from the team, and you glance at JJ to see she’s already got her head down, looking through the case file. She shuffles in her chair, you can only assume sensing your leering eyes, and without raising her head, she looks at you through her lashes.

There's nothing remarkable about how she looks at you; it’s rather ordinary, which motivates you to sigh and slump down on the nearest seat available. Everyone grabs a case file, and you spend that time contemplating who’s feeling more deflated, you or the indented cushion beneath you that is teetering on the brink of death.

It takes a particular type of subtly and poise to mask your rising self-pity, the likes of which you can only hope you possess. Around the table, everyone is listening to JJ, and you ought to do the same. It’s choosing the lesser of two evils, you either focus on what JJ is saying and risk looking like you’ve just been gut punched, or stare blankly into the space between JJ and the projector and come off as a well-rounded put together human.

The latter worms its way on top, the main victory point being that it’ll result in fewer questions asked. Through the garbling, a few words make sense, it’s enough to piece together, and you’re sure time on the jet will equip you with all you need to know.

“Wheels up in twenty.” That, you register.

You’re standing, then you’re walking, then you’re in an SUV, and someone’s talking next to you or, rather, at you. It’s hard to mind, though. Emily makes good background noise, and she seems to drown out the looming thoughts, leaving you to the blur of people and buildings passing by.

Footsteps soon reach your ears. Rossi’s perfectly polished shoes smack against concrete, then metal, as he ascends the stairs to the jet. You know you should get out; your legs, however, ignore this. Emily pulls the keys out and opens her door. Any second, she’ll pick up on your hesitance, and it’s game over. For the duration of the next two days, knowing her, she’ll be on the lookout for any suspicious activity regarding your behaviour if you don’t start moving.

So you move.

Following Emily, the hairs on your neck tingle, and a shiver runs down your spine, despite the warm spring breeze. The signs point to someone looking at you. Turning, you see JJ and Reid walking behind you, neither looking anywhere in your vicinity. JJ seems suspiciously interested in the jet's exterior. Nothing to call home about, though. In her defence, whenever anyone speaks to Reid, they find it hard not to let their mind wander, no matter how hard they are listening.

Nothing outside of the usual occurs when you get on the jet. You sit across from Emily as she slumps down on the first seat available by the front of the plane. It's not that you don't contemplate sitting anywhere else. Who are you kidding? It's not like you don't consider sitting next to JJ, but with all the awkwardness - self-perceived or very much real - you can't stomach the thought of infringing on her and precipitating another chance for you to make an idiot of yourself.

Chancing a look back at JJ, there's the faintest slither of disappointment that comes with watching her haphazardly throw her bag on the chair next to her. It’s unlike JJ to be so indirectly direct in deterring physical closeness.

It’s twenty minutes into the flight, and you and Emily are at it again. In both of your defences’, it wasn’t unsolicited. On the stand, you’d confidently plead you were rabbit holed into discussing how many times you’d had to pretend to act like a couple to deter leering men away, and on top of that, describe, in detail, how you’d mastered the fine art of always getting away with it. Apparently, small talk isn't a thing anymore.

It's been ten minutes of this, and you need to relieve yourself before the next onslaught of laughter results in a change of trousers. You nudge Emily, let her know you'll be right back and turn to head to the back of the jet.

It seems the new norm; whenever an opportunity to glance at JJ’s appears, you take it. Maybe it’s that you’re only just picking up on the habit, something to think about for the duration of the flight, perhaps.

JJ has scarcely moved, one knee up, head turned, eyes out the window. The bag remains unscathed, sitting idly and just as lonesome as the blonde. It's out of respect, for the booming thoughts going through JJ’s head and the physical presence of an ‘I don’t want company’ sign, you stay on your path. However, when you return, her bag is gone, her knee is down, and her attention draws to the direction of the toilet door closing.

The empty seat is beckoning you, calling to you, and though you have enough willpower to return to your own and pretend you haven’t seen anything, laugh about stupid late drunken nights, you choose to save the willpower for a rainy day and sit next to JJ instead.

“Hey,” it’s light, friendly and casual. Smashed it.

Blonde hair, partially bathed in unfiltered sunlight, glides over toned shoulders, and your stomach lurches. “Hey there,” she says. There’s a smile present that’s timid and, for some reason, making you feel a little uneasy because usually, JJ’s smile reaches her eyes, and this one doesn't. The blue orbs are illuminated only by the balmy glow slithering in through the window, and though they’re still as breathtaking as ever, there’s a sadness in acknowledging what’s not there that you can’t seem to shake. “You okay?”

A few seconds, a full minute? You don’t know how long you’ve been staring.

“Uhhh… ya, sorry,” you stammer over your words. There’s a curious look in her eyes, and her eyebrows knit together, “Tired, that’s all. I must have zoned out a little.”

The fingers lying over her knee twitch, and she inches forwards. There’s a split-second thought that maybe she’ll let them run their wanted course, seeking to provide some comfort by brushing over your arm or leg. They remain in her lap.

She’s touring your face, and it's hard to stay impassive when you’re starting to feel more self-conscious than a preschooler entering the lunch hall for the first time. There may as well be turbulence because your body is acting accordingly. You fidget. The paws of your fingers rub over the lines of your palms.

“Are you sleeping?” She’s settled on staring into the dark expanse of your under-eye circles that are half-hidden under shitty concealer.

The worry in her eyes that continuously search your face for an answer to her question is starting to drive you mad. You shrug and turn, relieved that the sinking in your stomach is less vomit-inducing, “Not really, but I manage,” you mutter, eyes wandering over the coffee pot and idle mug.

Whether she believes you is up for debate. A cold chill runs down your arms, and you can tell she’s still staring. A weight suddenly falls on your thigh. With enough speed to snap your neck, you turn.

It’s on fire. You’re sure that your thigh is about to burst into flames, along with your scorching cheeks. No. Your whole body is on fire because JJ’s smiling at you again, and her eyes have stopped searching for evidence of lack of sleep, and they are brighter, gentler and more compassionate.

“This is prime napping time,” she says suggestively.

“Tempting.” you chuckle, or more accurately choke out, shaking your head and paying attention to her hand now moving in circles. Yes. You’re sure. You are on fire. Scorching burning molten lava is slowly replacing the blood coursing through your veins, and you’re going to die on this plane.

Your eyes aren’t the only pair on JJ’s hand placement. As you lift your gaze, JJ’s flickers up too a moment later. Her smile hasn’t faltered. In fact, it may have even grown wider. But you aren’t sure because, at this point, you’re convinced this is all a hallucination.

Finally, she removes her hand to tap her shoulder, “I’m pretty comfy, you know.”

It’s baiting a child with candy, and it’s working. “Well…” you lower your head to the side, and you rest it on JJ’s shoulder, smiling at how easily and perfectly you fit together, “I’ll test that theory out and get back to you.” The end of the sentence is partially yawned out, sleep already weighing heavy on your eyelids.

Sleep hasn't come easy to you over the last week, and it’s a curious thing to ponder upon that JJ is the answer, yet, also part of the problem. Plaguing your mind with her incomparable beauty and so forth. For now, you were too delirious from waking up from the best nap you’d had in… forever…

It isn't hard to admit that JJ was right, she’s inexplicably comfy, more comfortable than your bed, but the brain fog that accompanies your light sensitivity, forcing your eyes closed again, has rendered you incapable of communicating that intelligently.

“I wish I could sleep on you every night.” you sleepily slur, nodding right back off to sleep.

It’s two seconds for you and twenty-three minutes for everyone else. You wake up, jolting your body upright. The words you’d said are still fresh on your lips.

“I-” turning to JJ, dread starts to set in. She’s got the most shit-eating grin on her face that she’s trying to cover with the palm of her hand, and if you weren’t morbidly embarrassed, you might have considered punching her.

She’s snickering now, her hands thrown up in mock surrender. “Theory proven.”

If looks could kill, she’d be stone-cold by now. The worst part is none of this is necessarily her fault, and you know it. She only tugged at a loose string you easily guided her to. Yes, it was pointed out to her in a state of delirium, but that is on your head.

“Bedhead,” JJ coughs, the sun hitting the side of her face angelically.

Pursing your lips and keeping your accusatory gaze fixated on her, you comb your finger through your hair. “Now you're just trying to get a rise out of me,” you grumble.

“Pfff,” she rolls her eyes, smirks, then looks at the papers scattered across the table, “You’re cute when you’re sleeping. Drool and all.”

She’s so fucking smug that part of you dies as a wicked, treacherous girly smile forces the sides of your lips to twitch. “I'm leaving now.”

You drop down across from Emily. She looks at you with an eyebrow raised, then at Reid and Morgan, thinking they might have some insight.

“I need a new mattress,” you huff before looking out the window for the rest of the fight, leaving Emily more confused than when you’d first sat down.

~~~

“Emily, you already know who you’re with,” Hotch smirks, “You both head to the crime scene.”

“God forbid they’re separated,” Rossi lightheartedly quips.

“Oh god,” Morgan sighs, a second too late to warn you.

Emily’s behind you. Her fingers come to your shoulder and dig in almost painfully, “My precious,” she says with her best Gollum impression, then hisses because you’ve delivered a swift elbow to her rips.

She relaxes her grip on you, and while everyone laughs at the idiocy displayed, you mockingly pout at her, “Want me to kiss it better?”

She smirks, “Save it for later,” she slaps your arm and starts walking towards the car, “Come on, let’s get going.”

From the passenger seat window, you see the team, and it’s the same old. Everyone’s dispersing, still smiling and relishing in the small break they got from the morbidity of the job, even if it was only for a minute, except, of course, one person. She’s looking off distantly again, fingers thrumming against her thigh, bottom lip between her teeth, and mindlessly nodding at something Hotch says.

Emily hits the gas, JJ becomes a moving blur, and then she’s gone.

About an hour later, you and Emily are walking into the precinct. Everyone’s heads turn as you both walk in, bickering.

“What's happened now?” Reid asks.

You shove your finger in Emily's direction, “She wouldn't let me drive.”

“Because you're a maniac behind the wheel,” Emily tries to reason.

“And you’re a spoilsport,” you grumble, sitting on a free seat between JJ and Morgan.

“I swear, sometimes you're like an old married couple, the two of you,” Garcia remarks over the phone and nods scatter around the room.

“Excuse me,” JJ stands up and leaves abruptly.

There’s a split-second choice to make, compliantly sit back, as you’ve been doing for weeks, or get up and find out what’s going on with JJ.

It takes looking at the team's faces to realise that if you don’t go, someone else will. Maybe it’s selfish. You know you’re probably not the person she wants to see, and deep down, you know she’s angry, and she’ll lash out. But maybe she’ll reveal the truth despite her rage, and that’s motivation enough to get up and chase after her.

“JJ! Wait up!” You call after her, picking up a light jog, your laden footsteps echoing in the small corridor.

She turns a corner and slips out a side door, likely under the assumption you don’t see her. When you open the door, a small side alley comes into view, and then you notice JJ with her back resting against a wall. She looks utterly defeated, but there’s a resting fire there that you see when she looks up at you.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You walk towards her.

Wearing that distant look again, she says, “It’s the case,” it’s so painfully obvious it’s a lie you can’t stop your brow from rising. She notices and rolls her eyes, “What?”

“Oh, come on, JJ. We both know it’s not the case,” you lean against the wall, turning to the side to look at her. She peers out into the alleyway, “You’ve been acting off all week.”

“We don’t have time for this,” she huffs, pushing herself off the wall. She’s probably right, but there’s no point in either of you going back inside when there’s a big chance your minds will dwell on this interaction.

You reach out and wrap your hand around her wrist, “JJ, talk to me.”

“Will you just drop it!” She yells, yanking her arm away.

“What's your problem?!” you’re sure people can hear you from inside, but the heat is rising within you, and JJ’s bringing it out more and more with her pointed glare.

“What the hell is your problem?!” She sneers.

“Really, JJ?”

“Yes.” she crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows expectantly, enough to push you over the tipping point.

“You know what,” you start, stepping forward, “You are! You’re my problem, JJ.”

“Oh.” She drops her arms down, and there’s a flash of hurt flickering over her features that’s not quite settling but not entirely leaving either.

You let out a heavy breath, “That’s not-”

“Forget it.” she steps away, and it’s infuriating because you’re being stripped of the opportunity to explain, and even if you don’t know what you’re going to say, she’s not giving a chance to think.

And now It’s late to stop yourself, the words are coming out without your consent, and there’s nothing left for you to do, “I like you!” you blurt out.

JJ turns on her heels. Her mouth is hanging open, “What?”

“I like you,” you say, this time a little quieter.

It’s a shock that she’s surprised, given that you have been under the impression you’ve been indisputably evident with your affections towards her.

“Honestly, I thought it was obvious.” You channel your inner voice, it’s small and meek, and you’re not pleased with the fragility of your voice, so you lower your gaze to your feet. A small rock takes your interest whilst you wait for the inevitable sound of JJ’s footsteps fading away.

Instead, they grow louder until the small rock is joined by a pair of black boots and a finger presses to your chin, forcing your head up. Then she kisses you.

It’s light, her lips brushing languishingly against yours, willing you to match their slow rhythm. It takes a few seconds, and you’re back in your body. You part your lips, letting the warmth of JJ engulf you. The kiss is slow and passionate. JJ moves her hands to your waist, pulling you closer against her and a sudden hunger grows low in your stomach, promoting you to nibble at her lower lip.

Your hands are on her shoulders, and she’s moving forward where there’s nowhere to go. You’re only aware you’re moving when you feel the cold surface of brick hitting your back.

A groan tumbles from your mouth, and JJ takes the opportunity to plunge her tongue in. It’s all teeth and tongues from there. You’re both panting and taking in gulps of air where you can, yet still refusing to unfurl yourselves from one another.

Eventually, the need for oxygen mounts to an all-time high, and you pull back, resting your head against the wall as JJ peppers kisses along your jawline.

“How did you not see?” you say between soft moans.

“I’m not a profiler,” JJ mumbles into your neck. She lifts her head, and you see her eyes are shimmering with humour.

“You’re also not blind.” you smugly point out.

“Neither are you.” She smirks.

A few seconds are spent simply smiling sweetly and dotingly at one another, eyes darting to and from eyes to lips. Then you’re kissing again, and the alleyway and the world seem to fade away, leaving only you and JJ.

Tags: @aws-l @babygirlscout @red1culous @7thavenger @sapphicprentiss @five-bi-five-mind @auggiewrites @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @summoned-lust-demon @maxinehufflepuffprincess | click here to be added to my taglist

#jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jareau x reader #Jennifer Jareau #jennifer jj jareau #Jennifer Jareau fluff #Jennifer Jareau angst #criminal minds

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alllostinmythoughts · 1 year

Text

My Story

How it all started

I was not born in to the religion but i do consider myself a born in. It’s all I’ve known. My mother was baptized when I was five or six and soon after married my step-father. I do not remember any birthdays, Christmas’, or any other holidays before that point in my life.

My step-father was a fourth generation born in and the religion was everything to his family. We were to carry that legacy on in whatever way possible. Whether by volunteering our time in service or our money in helping others in the congregation. We were to make sure we did nothing to “bring reproach on Jehovah’s name”. It was serious business. Our life revolved around the religion. Not only in our spiritual life but our work and personal life.

My mother was no slouch either. She may have “come from the world” but she was a serious and studious student of the bible. She was a good JW wife and mother. Took care of house and home. Served the congregation as best she could despite her ailments. Our house consistently had brothers and sisters in and out for dinners, barbecues and other get togethers.

I became an un-baptized publisher somewhere between 10 and 12. Not because I felt a calling or anything but because I knew it was expected of me and I already went on service every week with my mother so really it didn’t change anything. I just now had to report those hours I preached.

Doubt

I started to doubt as a preteen. Evolution was one sticking point. I had a very science oriented mind as a child, still do. I just didn’t understand how science could say we evolved but Witnesses say we didn’t. I questioned my mother and she tried to explain it to me and then did what every witness parent does. Pointed me to the “creation book” or Life-How Did It Get Here? By Evolution or by Creation? I read it cover to cover but I still couldn’t shake the idea that hundreds of well educated people came to the conclusion that we came to be through an evolutionary process. But eventually, I knew there was no fighting it, so I just let it go.

Then came doubts about the bible itself. There is so much in the bible that makes me question the organization’s narrative of a loving God verses what God does in the bible. If a person was to do what God did in the bible, I would say that that person was a sociopathic war criminal who should be tried for their crimes against humanity. If you’re someone who believes in the Christian God and believes that the things written in the bible are literal, I’m sorry but this is just my opinion.

Eventually, the expectation of baptism came. At that point, the reasons for me being hesitant wasn’t that I didn’t believe, because I really didn’t know what I believed. I know I wanted to believe, but that was because I knew that if I expressed that anything other than belief, it would alienate me from my family.

Since I wasn’t baptized and underaged, I knew I wouldn’t be kicked out. But it would definitely strain the relationship I had with my mother and sisters. Looking back now, I realized that I would have been in for lecture after lecture from my step-dad. It wouldn’t have been the loving (guilting) approach of trying to bring someone back into the fold I would be reproached for making what he thought was bad and idiotic decision.

I knew there really was only one decision I could make. So, I set the date when there would be an assembly, so I would have to be baptized in front a huge crowd, and I started the questions to be done with two elders. I was baptized in my mid teens.

I look back on that day and I feel numb. I think I felt relief at the time because it was done. The anxiety of knowing that people would constantly be looking at me with the expectation of my baptism would stop. I know now that I didn’t do it for the right reason. I didn’t believe. I just did it, because I knew there was no other choice.

My Step Father

And I continued being miserable. I struggled with my belief and it was not helped by my family life. Like I said, serving Jehovah was supposed to be everything in my family, and that included everything little thing in someones life. How one kept there home, how someone conducted themselves in front of someone else, how someone’s attitude towards work was. And to my step-father there was only one correct way of doing things, and if you didn’t do things that way then as a person, something was wrong with you fundamentally. My father’s way of thinking was based on what the Watchtower taught but to an extreme that I didn’t see in many other family in the organization.

So if the family wasn’t perfect in everything we did, that was not acceptable to my father and we were berated and shamed for it. Sometimes, it felt like nothing my mother did could ever be enough. She strove to keep the house clean to his standards but sometimes she was too tired or there was too much on her plate and he would berate and belittle her. It felt like us kids were never allowed to be kids, we were expected to just get it. You make a mistake once and that was it. Sometimes even a mistake wasn’t allowed. It felt like we were just supposed to know how to do things without explanation.

We would be subject to lectures that would last hours. He would bring up my mothers life before being baptized to shame her. He would imply that she somehow passed on some of her “undesirable” traits on to us kids and that’s why we acted in a way that he didn’t approve of. He would criticize everything little thing we did. Honestly, looking back, some of the things he would criticize us for, was kinda ridiculous. Things that were really not important. In the end, you were left feeling worthless. Trying you’re best would never be enough because if you try your best and you fail, then to him, that means you weren’t trying your best.

Turning Point

After a particular grueling and emotionally exhausting fight, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I went to my mother and told I couldn’t do it anymore. I told her I didn’t believe anymore and that I was agnostic. I told her I would move in with my biological father. Although I was still underaged, I still felt the need to move because I knew the tension would be too much for me. She told me alright but she also reminded me that I wouldn’t be able to talk to my siblings or her anymore. That I wouldn’t be able to see my youngest sister, who was a baby at the time, grow up. That broke my heart, but I said I knew and she said we would talk with everyone later.

That lasted about the day. The reality of my decision caught up to me and I couldn’t take the thought that I could never speak to my family again. Before we could talk to the family I went to her and told her the reason I said all those things was because I couldn't live in a house where in our religion we’re taught one thing but at home we are expected to live an extreme way that one can never attain and that I wanted to stay and I would continue going to meetings.

This reason was partially true. What I was experiencing was what broke the camels back but I was also still questioned my beliefs, I just didn’t want her to know that. And so I started to push everything away, or at least I tried to. They were there, I just ignored them. I overcompensated what I could do to counter the fact that I knew I had doubt and didn’t do more to be involved in the organization. I made sure to keep up to date with everything. I did research for meetings and I probably knew about more events in the bible than my sisters who regularly went out on service and gave bible studies.

Sometimes I look back and wonder if taking everything back and staying was a good idea. I sometimes regret it. I feel I might have saved a lot of heartache.

Leaving

2021. Coming up two years into the COVID-19 pandemic. My sister got married on the 21st of November. On the 28th of November my mother wakes me up. It seems that my parents were waiting for my sister to be married to tell the rest of us, so as not to ruin my sister’s wedding.

I was having one of my bad health days and just couldn’t muster up the energy to get up for meeting. I initially thought she was coming to see if I would be getting up for meeting. She tells me that’s alright, she and daddy just need to tell the family something and after that I can go back to sleep. My hackles immediately rise. Family discussions are usually a toss up on how they can go. I would have never even guess what was about to be discussed.

I walk downstairs with my blanket wrapped around me and sit on the couch. I notice that my mother’s laptop is dialed in to Zoom but not connected to the TV as it usually is, so our family can view the Zoom meeting on a bigger screen. We wait for the everyone to settle in. When everyone is settled my mother moves the laptop to the next room and closes the door because although everybody is usually muted she says she’s any thing can accidentally happen and our conversation could be broadcasted. I get more and more confused by what is happening.

My father and mother look a little nervous. I can’t remember if my mother or father was the one to speak first but they just came out with it immediately. Told us that they would not be going to meetings anymore. I couldn’t believe it. They told us about several things that led them to making that decision.

They told us what they found out about the organization’s hypocrisy with their dealings with the ‘world’. They were a NGO in the UN in the 90’s. If you’re a witness you know that the UN is regarded as the wild beast in Revelation in the bible and that as a witness you are to stay politically neutral and not be a part of any governmental organization. So them being apart of it is kind of a big deal, even if it was only for a decade. They told us of the white-washing of the organizations history. The failed predictions. The double standards expected of different countries.

I remember at one point they turn to my youngest brother and apologize to him and tell him that he was right. You see, a couple of years ago, my brother made it known that he did not believe in the organization and that he was an atheist. That definitely put a strain on the family.

I do not remember who brings it up, but somebody mentions the child sexual abuse in the organization. I have always told myself that that was a line that could not be crossed. That if I found out that the organization was implicit in the cover up of child abuse, that that was it. I could never be in an organization like that.

So that was that. They told us that they wouldn’t stop us from still attending if so desired. They offered to send us all the stuff they found out about if we wanted. They knew that my youngest brother wouldn’t anymore for obvious reasons. My youngest sister was only 8 so, she was just glad to not have to have to wake up early and still for meetings anymore. My oldest youngest brother was past the age that people expected to get baptized, because he always wanted to be 100 percent sure of something before he committed for something and I guess he couldn’t get committed because he wasn’t convinced.

And as for me, I think my mum already had an inkling of where my mind was at, based on previous conversations we have had and provided that time I had told her I couldn’t be a witness anymore. Even if that was years ago. I didn’t give a definitive answer but based on what I said in the conversation, the could infer that I wasn’t going anymore as well.

I let it stew for about two or three days. I guess I just had to let myself come to terms with this big thing that would change everything. I found that I was probably the calmest I had ever been in my entire life. I felt no anxiety. I realized I felt light like a weight had been lifted. I asked mum for all the stuff she found. It didn’t change anything, just gave me concrete proof of what I already suspected.

Aftermath

Unfortunately, we did not leave unscathed. We decided to fade. For those not in the know. Fading is when someone decided not to announce that they will no longer be a Jehovah’s Witness anymore. They will stop going to meetings, without saying anything. This way the elders technically cannot disfellowship (ex-communicate) you. So technically family and friends brave enough can still talk to you without the elders telling them anything.

My parents decided they would tell my sisters, not everything but just that they found stuff out and that they could not in good conscience be apart of the organization. That did not go over well for one of the three sisters and later a second one.

The youngest sister of us four oldest basically told us she had to shun us. She was on my parents insurance and requested to be removed even though she is incredibly sick right now and needs it. She sold the car my parents gave as a wedding present. She only calls to update my mum on her health condition. Because the youngest is not baptized, she still talks to her. She tried to keep in contact with the oldest brother but he would try to ask questions about the organization that’s he could not answer and he got frustrated, so they don’t talk anymore.

The third oldest at first seemed like she wasn’t going to shun us. It seemed just strained at first, which was expected but then she just disappeared. She quit working at my parents business and would not tell my mother where she would be working now. When mum would try and text her, she would only give one word answers and so communication petered out.

The oldest after me still talks to us. She works for my parents and regularly calls my mother. My youngest sister goes over to her apartment almost every Friday. Though the relationship has recently become strained because she is in between my sisters and us. Trying to be neutral but that obviously can’t last forever when my sisters ask her not to talk about them.

Now

Now it’s been 1 year, 4 months, and 14 days since that day. (Yes I did look up exactly how long it’s been.) I have missed two memorials, and have not attended one meeting, assembly, or convention since then. I have gotten therapy. (Shout out to my amazing therapist) Birthdays have been celebrated. We celebrated Christmas last year for the first time. My sister got to dress up for Halloween.

I am trying to move forward. Trying to find myself in the rest of the world. This blog is supposed to be a first step. Hopefully I get there.

#ex jehovah's witness #exjw #ex jw #ex cult #long post #very long post

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mangoisms · 1 year

Text

chapter 5 of forever is a maybe (but i like our chances, baby) is up and posted and i'd just like to cut out what is some of my favorite dialogue from this chapter. no real spoilers either, just some Shenanigans!

“You could ask one of the assistant managers to get it for you,” Miyuki points out as Eijun leads you two into the lower levels of the stadium, where extra equipment, cleaning supplies, and other miscellaneous items are stored. Very little people are around, so the only noise is the soft sound of your footsteps, with the occasional squeak of the soles on the concrete floors. It’s a bit unsettling, but these sections are part of a larger area entirely off-limits to fans and the like, so it should be fine.

Eijun tosses a scandalized look over his shoulder. “That’s not what they’re here for, Miyuki Kazuya! Don’t be rude!”

“Sawamoron, you literally have two of them assigned to you to wait on you hand and foot. That is their job.”

“Well, I still feel bad! And don’t you see how creepy it is down here? Why would I want to make one of those poor assistants go through this? No! Strength in numbers!”

You chuckle fondly. “I’m not sure this park is old enough to have ghosts, Eijun.”

“You don’t know that! Gramps says we can carry ghosts with us sometimes.”

You frown. “Is that why I always see stuff in the corner of my eye whenever you come over?”

“Maybe!”

“Eugh.” You shudder.

Miyuki snickers. The industrial lights overhead flash over the lens of his glasses. “Don’t tell me you actually believe in ghosts. The country bumpkin I get but —”

“Hey, she’s like me! Tell him!”

You shrug. “I’m from Montana, which probably has more cows than people. I’ve been raised to respect the supernatural.”

He laughs hard at that. “Oh, my stomach hurts . . . You two are hilarious . . . Ghosts, please —”

As if on cue, the lights illuminating the long tunnel flicker.

“You’re upsetting the ghosts, Miyuki Kazuya,” Eijun whispers, annoyed, though he does take your hand, pulling you closer to him. “Say sorry.”

“I am not saying sorry —”

The lights flicker again.

“Kazuya!”

“Who am I apologizing, too, huh? What ghosts could possibly be here?”

“The ghosts of old!”

“Old what, you idiot?”

The look of incredulity on his face makes you want to laugh but you figure both he and Eijun don’t want you laughing right now.

“Old baseball, obviously!”

“What ghosts of old would want to haunt a place called T-Mobile Park? You think Babe Ruth is hanging around here when he could be at Yankee Stadium?”

“Kazuya!”

“Alright! I’m sorry, ghosts of old baseball!”

Another tunnel comes up on your right and all three of you flinch and skid to a stop when metal screeches loudly against concrete.

Several things happen in that moment. You, decidedly spooked, drop back at the same time that Eijun, using your left hand clasped in his right, pushes you back to stand behind him and Miyuki, while Miyuki’s left arm shoots out protectively over Eijun. In between all of this, somehow, your right hand ends up finding the back of Miyuki’s Nike track jacket, fabric clasped tightly in your hand.

A surprised worker meets your gazes, standing at the foot of a tall ladder, clearly having just moved it; at the top of the ladder is an open box in the wall, lines of wire exposed.

“Sorry,” the man says, getting over his shock first and gesturing to the box with a pair of pliers in his hand. “Electrical work.”

You know Eijun is sighing in relief at that but it’s not your imagination, either, when you feel Miyuki relaxing, too. Then you realize you’re still holding him and, with your face burning, you let him go.

He sends you a quick glance over his shoulder but you avoid his eyes awkwardly, shuffling closer to Eijun.

Looking back forward, he straightens his jacket. “Told you, Sawamoron,” he mutters, though it lacks any real heat.

Eijun ignores him still, saluting the man. “Thank you for your hard work! And sorry if we scared you!”

The man smiles, bemused, and shakes his head. “’S alright. No worries.”

The three of you continue on your way, all of you silently agreeing to not bring up any of that.

you can find the masterpost for this fic here!

#this is a little bit of a promotion but also i do enjoy the dialogue from this chapter A Lot and wanted 2 share #also kind of a sneak peek at what their dynamics might be when reader and miyuki make up :D #frmb**#miyuki kazuya #miyuki kazuya x reader #daiya no ace #ace of diamond #daiya no ace x reader #miyuki x reader #kazuya x reader

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spacesuitsforemergency · 3 years

Text

Okay but I love how while Carrie thinks Samara is the devil on earth, everyone else she knows absolutely loves her

She’s sweet to Kendrick and always asks about his bat research or any cool poisonous bugs he may have found

And Chris thinks she’s annoying in a little sister way too, but she won’t interrupt his research or experiments unlike some other people he knows

Then she’s nice to Jon and is always super polite when she comes to stay over. She always helps him clean up after dinner and asks him how his day was unlike his other kids-

Then Kitty and Nancy think she’s cool, she always compliments Kitty’s outfit no matter how slutty, and Nancy likes her in an admiring way cause she’s just so cool

Then even though she thinks Thomas is a doofus, it’s in a charming way so she tries to keep up in conversation with him

Then Carrie just stares at them all in disgust cause how could you like someone so rotten-

#gonna go eat dinner now #Thomas: she’s not that bad babe-#Carrie: she literally says you’re an idiot all the time. only I get to call you that!#samara swift #tenebrosity #carrie crane #ensnare

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yokohamapound · 2 years

Note

I am WEAK for pet names, can we have some hcs for pet names Dazai, Ranpo, Yosano, Akutagawa, Chuuya and Fyodor would call you?

My first request on this blog! Listen, I'm a huge slut for pet names. This is my first time dipping my toes in this fandom so thanks for helping me ease my way in. <3

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Edogawa Ranpo, Yosano Akiko, Nakahara Chuuya, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Fyodor Dostoevsky

Warnings: NSFW, suicide mention (Dazai ofc)

Dazai Osamu

Pet names fall from Dazai’s lips as easily as lies. He’s well known for addressing every woman in his vicinity (except Yosano, because he’s not that suicidal) with beautiful, sweetheart, bella/belladonna, darling. Usually followed an enquiry as to whether they’d use those pretty hands to strangle him.

This might make any sweet appellations he gives you seem throwaway or disingenuous but once you’ve known Dazai for long enough, you can pick up the change in his tone when he says them—still flirtatious, but sincere.

He doesn’t actually use your name that often, but that means when he does, it carries extra weight. The situation at hand is serious—deadly, heavy, or just emotional.

He abuses the suffix “-chan” so much it’s filing a restraining order against him.

Edogawa Ranpo

Now, you know Ranpo calls you by the things he values most—his snacks.

Honey, bonbon, cupcake, sweetie...

If it’s sweet and snack-related, then it’s probably been applied to you at some point in time. Sometimes he just uses whatever he’s most recently been snacking on. Pickle was an...interesting one. Didn’t land quite the way he wanted to when you started laughing hysterically, so he saves that one for when he’s in a silly, goofy mood.

He did once open his eyes, smirk, and call you sugar~ which hit different.

Yosano Akiko

Akiko likes to maintain her composure and professional veneer around others, so if you’re part of the ADA, you’ll probably be addressed just by name most of the time. You might get a “-chan” or “-kun” tacked on the end if she’s in a particularly good mood.

That’s not to say Yosano’s cold, but she doesn’t want to seem too soft in front of her colleagues or clients. She has a reputation to uphold.

When she shucks the white coat and goes home, however, things loosen up a bit. Expect honey, sweetheart, or even darling if she’s feeling extra-romantic.

I think she’s also tested out nicknames that edge toward some of her darker proclivities, but my little chainsaw didn’t have quite the ring she was looking for, so she stuck to more conventional ones.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

It takes a long, long time for Akutagawa to call you anything other than your name, if he uses your name at all. Oftentimes it’s just you. He also liberally calls people idiot, fool, and cur.

Not that those will generally be applied to you. The occasional exasperated idiot might slip past his lips, but he generally reserves the disaparaging nicknames for his subordinates or his enemies.

Akutagawa is reluctant to open up and expose his feelings for you or say anything that can be mocked, but he might tentatively add a “-chan” to the end of your name now and then.

But the real kicker is when he leaned down one day, probably mid-fuck, and called you kitten.

Toes were curled that day. Moans were heard from afar.

Nakahara Chuuya

Chuuya, (oh, Chuuya <3), is almost as bad as Dazai for having a list of pet names as long as his arm. The difference being that he usually only applies them to his s/o rather than every woman around. Unless he’s being snarky.

Let’s see here: doll, dollface, babydoll, sweetheart, baby, babe, honey, sweetheart, darlin’, prince/ss, love, lovely...

I could go on.

He has also referred to you as a dime piece more than a few times. Chuuya has that 1920s gangster aesthetic about him so him picking up slang from that time period just fits.

Chuuya uses pet names liberally. Usually every other sentence, to be honest. He’s a simp for his s/o and he literally can’t help himself unless he’s around his colleagues in the Port Mafia, where he has a reputation to maintain. In which case he limits himself to a tame babe.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

The ever-mysterious Fyodor. Who knows what’s going on in that guy’s head? I’m going to be a predictable little bitch here and say that he very likely has a few Russian terms of endearments tucked up his sleeve. (I don’t speak Russian so apologies if any of these are wrong/inaccurate.)

Rodnoy/Rodnaya (m/f) - approx. “my dear”

Zolotse - approx. “gold/golden”

Myshka - “little mouse” (perfect for our rat man)

Or dropping the odd compliment like umnitsa “clever”, when you understand one of his fucky little plans.

In general, I feel like he goes for quite simple, non-cutesy terms of endearment. Almost a little old fashioned—my dear, my darling, my love.

Usually with a “my” tacked on the front because you are, after all, his~

#Yokohama Pound #Bungou Stray Dogs #BSD imagines #BSD headcanons #Dazai Osamu #Edogawa Ranpo #Yosano Akiko #Akutagawa Ryuunosuke #Nakahara Chuuya #Fyodor Dostoevsky #Dazai x Reader #Ranpo x Reader #Yosano x Reader #Akutagawa x Reader #Chuuya x Reader #Fyodor x Reader #tw: suicide mention #bsd smut

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lovelybarnes · 2 years

Text

clementines- b. barnes

pairings: bucky barnes x reader, platonic!natasha romanoff x reader, platonic!steve rogers, other mentions of avengers warnings: language, mostly fluff but there’s angst if you squint real hard in the beginning about: inspired by a scene in criminal minds i randomly remembered and prompt reader carrying around food for bucky since he forgets to eat a/n: literally so excited to share this with you guys. i have a couple of fics i really do like and want you guys to read, and this is the first of them!

“i thought this was a real mission,” bucky grumbles, shifting uncomfortably in the tight black suit tony had forced steve to force on him. he’s stuffed into a tiny black chair outside the office where you’re supposed to get called into, although neither of you has for most of the day.

“this is a real mission,” steve insists for the second time from next to you, also shoved inside a too-small chair and a tux. “probably one on the harder side, too,” he mutters.

“‘thought missions were supposed to have dirt and blood and fighting. not entitled, rich assholes and idiot government officials. ‘was actually hoping to avoid all of that.”

you sigh in agreement, looking up at steve while you shrug, “i think i’d rather have that, actually. at least tony takes me out to eat after.” bucky grunts in agreement, and your attention lifts to him, narrowing your eyes as you examine him from head to toe, well aware he probably forgot to eat breakfast after his run and is starving due to his rapid metabolism.

steve is about to respond—probably pretend to disagree even though you heard his stomach rumble a few minutes prior—when sam opens the door to the office, nodding to him, “the other old white guy needs you in here. ‘gotta suck you in, sorry.”

steve sighs heavily before getting himself out of the chair and entering the room.

you stare at the closed door, the reason why you and bucky are the only ones left outside in the hallway pretty damn clear to you. feeling hungry at the anger, you go to pull open the zipper of your bag, the deep color matching the blazer and pencil skirt pepper had hung up on your door that morning.

you pull out one of the clementines you’d hastily shoved in there before you left, the bright orange fruit in your fingers, nails already digging into and splitting open the skin. a minute of silence where you simply strip away the peel while he looks at your hands passes by, his eyebrows furrowing as little droplets of sticky juice fall on your expensive skirt.

you eat a slice once you manage to remove it, humming at the taste of the clementine that you break with your teeth. as you pull off another slice, you catch his observing eyes follow your finger as you lick away the orange bubbles that remain on your nails. smirking, you tear off a slice and hand it to him, watching as he eyes it wearily for a moment before taking it from your hold and biting into it.

it goes like that for a few more minutes, you handing him slices and occasionally popping some into your mouth while you discuss what you’re going to eat later, and all the shows you want to watch later on, and last weeks’ mission.

you go through the two clementines stuffed inside your purse, and neither of you ever go inside the stupid conference room.

it’s three in the morning when natasha walks out of the training room to find you peeling clementines, two small baggies laid on the table, one filled up and one seemingly about to be.

“what the hell are you doing?” she questions, making your eyes drift from the orange skin peels between your fingers to her without a flinch at the disturbance. you stare at her for a silent moment, continuing to peel the fruit in your hands distractedly.

“i’m peeling clementines,” you answer obviously after a few seconds of silence, looking back down at your work once you realize all the skin is gone. slices are broken apart, aromatic juice smelling of citrus spraying on your skin and the marble countertops beneath you.

“okay,” natasha says slowly, walking towards you, “why are you peeling oranges at…” she turns to look at the digital clock on the stove behind you, raising an eyebrow, “three thirty-eight in the morning.”

“clementines,” you correct swiftly, gently storing the pieces of fruit inside the little baggie that natasha has noticed has the name bucky written on it, a goofy little heart drawn next to the word. she cocks her head at the sight of you filling it up with two more clementines than the other one had.

“fine, why are you peeling clementines at three thirty-nine in the morning?” she obliges. you shrug, popping a piece from an unmarked baggie natasha assumes is for you into your mouth.

“personal reasons.”

natasha snorts, walking over to stare at you from a closer distance, “please. there’s nothing personal in between these walls. it’s why nothing with anyone’s name on it is ever actually eaten by that person.”

“i like clementines.” you reply simply, “and, please, you really think anyone would eat something with my name on it? or yours, for that matter?” at the slight cock of her head, you smirk to yourself, knowing you’re right.

“they’ll eat something that says bucky,” she points out, stealing a slice from your baggie.

“i know, which is why i won’t leave this out,” you zip up the small bag, shaking it gently before placing it next to you. you close your own bag as well, scrawling your name on a small piece of tape as well as a small note reminding everyone what would happen if you woke up to find your fruit gone. then, you pull out another one, labeled nat, and lay it in front of her. “good night,” you say as you walk away, bucky’s bag swinging gently in your hand.

the mission—definitely more entertaining than the goddamn conference you and bucky never went into, by the way—is finally, thankfully, over. you’re all tired and annoyed at the fact you have to sit in the boring conference room, debriefing, but none of you have a genuine excuse to not be here this time, so you sit and blink slowly, answering questions that steve and tony already know the answers to and monotonically reciting the events of the mission.

while someone in the front discusses their job, you think back to the last time you saw bucky eat something, unsurprised but disappointed to realize he hadn’t since the morning. you know it isn’t his fault, he just forgets. it was never a priority in hydra, and it isn’t a particular priority now unless he’s passing out or you’re shooting him a death glare while worriedly shoving food between his hands—or at the worst, his lips.

you bend to pull out the bag you’d guarded better than the files you were assigned to steal, pleased to find it in perfect condition before opening it and offering one of its contents to bucky right next to you. he looks from you to the little clementine slice you hold in between your index and thumb before plucking it from you and pushing it between his lips.

you hand him the whole bag, gesturing to the little label with his name when he frowns a little, thinking you were giving him something you’d packed for yourself. you wink at him, opening your other pocket and pulling out your own little bag. he grins a little at you, realizing how hungry he is and spending the rest of the meeting with the juice from the clementine sticky on his fingers.

you discover it’s on his lips too after it’s over, when you’re both sitting on the couch, bowls of food sitting in front of you on the table, still untouched and ready to be eaten as bucky’s lips move against yours, citrus of the clementine sweet on your tongue.

497 notes · View notes

flusteredloser · 3 years

Text

sugar sweet

richie tozier x fem reader

category: fluff, fluff, literally just fluff

word count: 3,3k

content warnings: swearing, stealing, slight nsfw (sexual innuendos... bc it’s richie tozier), a driving scene written by a bitch who can't drive, overbearing fluff, sonia

a/n: hello here’s a lil soft fic i wrote in a hyper state today <3 i had ‘beverly’ by ben wallfisch from the it 2017 soundtrack stuck in my head while i wrote the ending so !! enjoy

🎡

"sweetheart, if you don't put your head back in, i'm afraid i'm gonna have to marie antoinette you."

you laughed dismissively at his empty threat, feeling a grin take over. you let the wind crash against your face and through your hair, the scent of sea salt softly filling your nose. if richie thought that you were going to give this feeling up, oh, was he wrong.

despite what he was saying, the sight of morning sunlight streaking through your flying hair and your torso poking out the passengers' window was one richie wished he could get used to. despite his nagging for the past half hour, ranting about the dangers of vehicular manslaughter and mishaps, he couldn't help but beam at your laughter.

he almost hit himself in the head for getting all worked up about safety like eddie always did, but it was something he found himself doing often with you. keeping you safe and sound was one of the few things that kept him from staying up all night. besides, you guys were going to see eddie and the rest of the losers in a bit anyways. the designated role of the pedantic worrier would soon be shrugged off richie's shoulders.

keeping one hand on the wheel, richie’s free hand never left the edge of your knee, not once in the hour-long drive. no matter how far you reached your body out his car's window, his fingers stayed glued around you. you never said anything about the gesture apart from placing your hand over his. being his was something you never got used to, but you were far from complaining.

"richierichierichie i think we're here!" you exclaim, ducking your head back inside the car.

"you sure, dummy? the massive ferris wheel and circus tent means we're close to the carnival?"

your hand leaves his to go shove his temple, "fuck off, rich."

"i know i know, you're really excited," he taps your knee, "so am i."

he pulls into the parking lot, expertly navigating his way through the crowded area before finding a space. an empty space which was coincidentally beside a sketchy beat-up minivan painted with "URIS," in fat letters.

richie laughs, "what are the fucking odds.”

his hand moves from the skin on your knee to the back of your seat, his body shifting to face the rear. you subtly eye your boyfriend sitting in the driver's seat and tried not to physically express any of the thoughts firing in your mind right then. dear god, did he look good today. you end up shamelessly staring at him as he strains his neck to squeeze his way through tight space. his knuckles turn to this ghostly shade of white when he flexed them against the wheel, his rings glinting under the sunlight.

once he finally put the car in park and shifted his weight back to you, he catches your gaze. throwing a wink, he pulls out the keys and stuffs his belongings into his jean pockets.

you’re sure he has zero clue about the effect any of this had on you. sure, he was your boyfriend but sometimes you found yourself feeling scared at how much you liked him. this boy has you wrapped around his finger and he barely knows half of it.

you reach over and run your fingers through his unruly hair a couple more times, enjoying the way the curls bounce back. “you look so good, rich.”

he rolls his eyes at your remark, but you don’t miss the way a small blush reaches tips of his ears. “enjoy it while it lasts, i can’t let the guards recognise me again.”

“i still can’t believe you got fired and banned on the same day, rich. that’s genuinely so impressive, you know that?"

richie rolls his eyes but you see the hint of a grin on his face, “you going soft on me, sweets?”

“could never.” you ruffle his hair, letting your nails glide along his scalp and you laugh at the way his head naturally tips back. richie had no clue why the feeling of your hands in his hair that made him short-circuit, but he wasn’t complaining.

“do we really have to go see them...” richie groans, grabbing your hand and placing it back onto his head when you pulled away.

“richard tozier. i did not pester you to drive us an hour away just so you could fold at me playing with your hair.”

he side-eyes you. “why did i agree to this again?”

“because every day for the last month you wouldn’t shut up about ‘taking eddie’s slushee v-”

“ed’s slushee virginity, riiiight,” he breaks out in a smile, “jesus, can you believe sonia never let him near one in his entire life?”

you tug his fringe towards you and the rest of his head followed, “well, now that he’s all alone there, someone’s got to be there to guide him through his first time, right?”

he faux-pouts back at you, the mischievous glint in his eye sparkling brighter. “fine.”

finally, you let go of his hair and he pecks a kiss against your cheek before putting on his sunglasses and tipping his cap further down his face. opening his car door, you sit there dumbfounded as you watch the 6'2 disguised dork clamber out of his side with your tote bag on his shoulder.

he glances back, offering a hand as if you were going to climb out on his side as well, “c’mon, we don’t have all day.” and richie made sure you knew that by dragging you through the park, evading the guards left and right in under a minute. it was only so long before you spotted a group of idiots wandering aimlessly. bev’s bright red hair was the instant identifier, and watching this bill’s lanky frame grab a fistful of stan’s curls to yank it about sealed the deal.

“stanley, darling,” richie yelled through the crowd, “if you wanted someone to pull your hair that badly you could’ve asked me nicely.” “shut the fuck up, trashmouth!” stan yelled back. “wait. rich?”

you walk over and sling your arm around bev, “you guys haven’t been waiting long, have you?” she grins at the sight of you, “no, but if i have to hear mike argue one more time that the high striker is apparently ‘broken’ i’m going to kill somebody.”

“do me a favour and kill me, bev!” stan’s voice cuts through, followed by a shriek when richie too grabs a handful of his hair.

bev’s hand leaves yours to go smack both boys upside the head. “y’all better stop acting like children before i get fucking fired. i’m not going out like dumbass richie here did.” she eyes the rest of them, who all halt in their tracks.

“yes, ma’am,” the chorus sighed.

🎡

"ed's, i swear on your mother's smokin’ bod that blue is the. best. flavour. there's literally nothing wrong with it."

"you just called blue a flavour, richie-”

"because it can be. it doesn’t matter if blue and red colouring are the same, you can feel the difference.”

"no, i really can't. i don't understand how the colour blue could possibly be-"

richie groans, "fine, eat your mommy's packed lunch like the big boy you are." he teasingly starts to wave his cup in front of eddie's eyes.

"quit it, rich. if eddie doesn’t want toxins in his body, leave him be." ben interjects before sipping his own neon drink.

the boys huddled together around a picnic table they had managed to snatch before the carnival’s lunch rush swept over. richie and bev used to work in the carnival last summer, the two-week period spent with one another supposedly being “worse than the devil’s asscrack.” the comment itself earned richie five slaps, one each from the boys, and a high-five from bev. that was until richie got permanently banned (which you still don’t know how) and now bev carried on by herself whenever they roll back into derry.

currently, you and bev were on your way back from the concession stands, attempting not to spill anything. you each held at least four bags of carnival foods and drinks in your arms, bev also balancing the few candy bars she stashed under her shirt. teeter-tottering your way back to the boys, richie burst out in laughter at the sight of you struggling.

“as graceful as a job you’re doing with that, sweets, do you want some help?” he smirks, already swinging his leg over the chair.

“nope, nothing to see here,” you groan at richie’s smug grin. “rich, i swear to god if you come near me i am going to-”

“hurt me, hit me, murder me, mmhm. i’m sure you’ll do a whole lot of damage.” he winks, swiping the bags from your arms.

“freaky.” stan muttered, churning his slushee with the straw. you grumble at richie’s endearing irritating act of heroism and plop yourself next to stan empty-handed.

“here, you want some?” stan raises an eyebrow, offering his blue slushee towards you.

“thanks stan, but he’s got my...” you glance towards richie, half-expecting to see him distributing the snacks, only to see him aggressively nudge the slushees in eddie’s face. “you know what, i’ll take it.”

stan scoffed, “what, you thought i was offering this from the depths of my generous heart? i thought you knew me better-"

the sound of plastic crinkling and eddie’s yelp cut through stan’s sentence.

you look back at the sight of richie threatening to pour the ice into eddie’s hair, eddie shrieking and wildly missing punches at richie. dear god, your boyfriend was such a menace. richie and eddie never spent a day where they weren’t at eachother’s throats though, but anyone with a pair of eyes could see that they deeply loved one another. rich had that effect on people, you think. he was rarely overtly loving, but it’s not like he needed to be. you guys just knew.

ben smiles sweetly between you and your gaze on richie. “you’re staring again, y/n.”

you immediately snap out of it and go to slug ben in the shoulder. “was not.”

“was too.”

"was. not."

"was too!"

you narrow your eyes at ben who sheepishly smiles in innocence. he reaches over to grab a couple onion rings from your bag to which you lightly slap the back of his hand. he groans, trying again from another angle, “just because i pointed out your goo-goo eyes at trashmouth?”

bev snatched a couple rings from across you and threw them at ben. he chuckles gleefully at the perfect catch. “you know, he’s not wrong,” she points out.

“for the last time, i wasn’t staring,” you groan.

“not about that, genius. the way you’re absolutely whipped for that dick.” she smiles. “i mean,” you barely conceal your smirk, “the dick is pretty g-”

"not what i meant," bev sighs while the rest of them groan at your words.

“seriously though,” bill asks with genuine curiosity, “how did you even end up together? how do you even like someone that much?” bev tuts from the other side, “tread lightly there, denbrough.”

“shut up, you know what i mean. it’s trashmouth we’re talking ’bout here.” bill grins, “it’s a mystery how someone can shut him up so quick.”

you laugh to yourself, thinking about the few times you get to see richie completely speechless. “it’s not that hard, you know?” you shrug softly at the way the losers nod. you may all pretend to hate the life out of him but he always had a special place in each of your hearts. “he cares with everything he’s got, no matter what. he’s always there for you even if you don’t want him to be. i just...i don’t think he’s been anything less than...”

“-if you say ‘perfect’, i’m going to hit you.” stan says.

you roll your eyes at stan, “fuck off, but... but yeah. it’s so easy to love him and i honestly owe you guys an apology for being so annoyingly whipped for that dork,” you joke.

aside from the distant bickering coming from richie and eddie in their own little world, a silence hung over the six of you. it was too quiet. wondering if you said something wrong, you scan over them, only to be met with six variations of a smirk. more than confused, you chuckle nervously. “i was joking about the apology thing but if you really want-”

“you said ‘love.’” bev laughed.

“what?”

“you said ‘love,’” she repeated. “that you loved him.”

“i... of course i love him, he’s..” not trusting any more of the words coming out of your mouth, you cut yourself off and gather your thoughts.

of course you loved richie. each and every one of you loved your resident trashmouth, he was one of your best friends. the two of you were the closest of friends, an insufferable duo for years before you began dating. it might have only been a few weeks since he asked you out, but it’s not like too much changed from when you were friends.

there was only more love, more affection, only slightly more sexual innuendos (majority of them were solely just to piss off stan).

so of course you loved him. more than you did when you were friends. which he’s gotta know... right?

“fuck, maybe i do owe you guys an apology.” you joke.

“don’t think twice about it, this is nothing compared to him. if i took a shot for every time he went on some sort of love ramble about you, i’d be fucking dead.” bev replies, “and then he would carry on.”

you laugh, shaking your head in denial, “c’mon, he does not do that.”

“are you blind?” mike speaks up. “you’ve had him since the first day you joined us at the barrens. i can still see fourteen-year-old richie ogling you clear as day.”

you stammered at your response, tripping over your words. “mike, i think you broke her. she’s become bill,” stan teases.

you go to shove stan again and sorely miss. “anyways, my point is...”

you avoid their eye contact and go back to churning stan’s slushee. “he has my heart, fuck, he’s got all of our hearts. like, is he an asshole? sure. does he get on my nerves every other day? definitely. will he be the death of me? probably. but i l-”

“i sure hope you’re winding up to something there, sweets.”

you snap your head up from your dreamy rambling to see richie smirking next to you and eddie squeezing himself next to bill. you feel yourself go bright red at the realisation that he had been listening.

“i- no. that was it.”

“you sure? you going off about me... ‘but’...” richie pushes, quoting your words.

“richie, if you genuinely think you have redeeming qualities, i suggest some self-reflection.” stan quipped. “yeah, i was just pointing how much you bother us. no ifs, no buts,” you jokingly agree.

“mean,” richie rolls his eyes, shifting back in his seat next to you.

he’s gotta know... right?

you wink and stick your tongue out playfully, to which richie raises an eyebrow at. he glances between the blue drink in your hand and your tongue, his gaze on your lips making you nervous.

“now, what?” you sigh, wiping the ice from your mouth and pretending that you weren’t dying to know what was churning in that brain of his.

“nothing,” richie shrugs smugly, “just that i’ve always wanted to know how my cock looked blue.”

the comment took you off guard, your instant blush only fuelling richie’s grin. without hesitation, you lean over with a faux-pout, an act that has richie’s eyes wide. “careful there, trashmouth,” you tease loudly. “you keep this up and you’ll see how stan’s looks blue.”

bev immediately gasps with her hand over her mouth, followed by mike’s stifled cackle as he slapped richie’s back. the rest of the group looks frankly stunned, and stan’s face is on a whole different level of red.

richie doesn’t even look the least bit angry. his jaw is dropped slightly and he runs his hand over his jaw, trying to stop the chuckle that leaves his throat. if anything he looks proud.

shaking his head with a smile, he slings his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer. “that’s my girl,” he grins.

“yeah, that for sure is tozier’s,” bill says.

there’s no way any of you miss the way richie’s face goes red under that comment and your heart skips a beat when he squeezes your side. when no one’s looking, you lean up and kiss by his ear, absolutely delighted by the deeper shade of red on his face.

“darl, if you don’t stop that i’m going to go as red as stan,” he whispers into your hair. the both of you look back at the boy who’s trying to concentrate on his slushee and not the blush that’s continued to creep to his neck. “i’m actually getting concerned.”

you giggle, “shh, he’s fine.”

“no really, i give it a couple seconds before eddie pulls out his medical fanny pack,” richie says.

you look up at him as you’re tucked into his side, his arm still slung around your shoulder. his dark hair and eyelashes caught the sunlight, his blue eyes glinting as he glanced back. his lips were tipped into their signature cheeky smile, almost like a cue that he was going to say something out of hand. you felt the swell of your heart grow as he raised his eyebrows, prompting what he knew you were going to say.

“you know, earlier...” you whisper, looking down to his hand intertwining with yours. “i just... i wanted to say that i... you know... that i-”

“i feel like i should be offended at how hard it is for you to tell me you love me, sweets,” he whispers back, clearly trying to keep a straight face. fuck. “oh god please, you know i-” richie shushes you, kissing the crown of your head. “it’s okay, i know.” you can feel the curve of his lips against your hair. “i love you too.”

trying to tame the aggressive blush and stupid smile that reached your face, you follow his gaze over to eddie. just like richie joked, he had this fanny pack laid on the table in front of stan. you weren’t listening to anything they were saying, but you watched the way stan was squirming from eddie, insisting he did not have heatstroke. mike stood right behind stan, pinching his cheeks and periodically wrapping his strong arms around stan to stop him from squirming. bev was leaning across ben and bill’s laps, joining in and poking her fun at eddie and you notice how bill’s hands traces figures along bev’s side. ben gazes at the group of them, chiming in every so often when stan’s quips got too violent.

it was one of those moments you wish you could freeze.

after a while, richie whispers into your ear. “do you think they’d even notice if we left for the ferris wheel?”

you break your eye contact from the group to gaze up at him. “nope, not at all. you think you can sneak us some tickets?”

“please, you think i got kicked out of here for nothing?” he scoffs.

“is this how you’re going to get banned again?” you grin, poking his side, “stealing tickets for your girl?”

with a soft smile, he takes your hand to subtly stand and back away from the group. with stifled giggles, the both of you manage to make it at least twenty feet without the losers even noticing. the second you two were out of earshot, richie wraps his hand around yours and begins to run, “i wouldn't want it any other way."

🎡

517 notes · View notes

archived-kin · 3 years

Text

simeon with a himbo boyfriend

note from kin: once again i am writing for the boys because this fandom doesn’t have nearly enough content for them, especially for Big and Beefy Men. let them be in dating sim fandoms too!!!!!! give them more content!!!!!

anyway i’ve made you an angel since i don’t want to have to think about the deeper repercussions of what simeon dating a human would be (i mean we all know what happened to lilith when she tried it)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): male!reader, simeon, luke, belphegor, beelzebub, asmodeus, satan, leviathan, mammon, lucifer, barbatos, diavolo, solomon

pairing(s): simeon/reader but it accidentally becomes everyone/simeon’s boyfriend at some point whoops (this ended up as a pretty big block of text as a result so please let me know if you have difficulty reading it so that i can try to format it better!)

warning(s): nope!

genre: fluff!!!! fluff everywhere!!!!!!!!!

simeon thinks you’re the cutest goddamn thing in all three realms

you may be six foot four inches of muscle but to him that is six foot four inches of ADORABLE

you’re very strong so he likes to just run and jump up at you from behind and wrap his arms around your neck because he knows you won’t be fazed by it (physically anyways, emotionally is another story)

the other angels always gasp when he does this in public because it’s so far from his usual ‘poised and elegant’ thing but how is simeon NOT supposed to climb all over you like a koala when you’re so big and huggable???

simeon just really loves jumping at you like that okay

because every time he does you’ll just pause for a second and look very confused as to why your back has suddenly gotten heavier, and then you’ll turn your head, and your smile and excited little ‘simeon!!’ is to DIE for

he has to be incredibly upfront with you about what he wants because otherwise you will not understand

he has to say, word for word, “i want to sleep in the same bed as you every day” before you actually realise that that’s what he meant

the whole exchange kind of went like this:

simeon, being sappy at like seven in the morning: “i want to wake up like this all the time from now on”

you: “??? do you want me to come lie down next to you before you wake up tomorrow morning?”

simeon: “no, for the whole night”

you: “you want to wake up like this for the whole night??”

simeon: [sighs]

he also often has to be the one taking charge when it comes to physical affection

like you’re always willing to give him hugs and carry him around and let him sleep sprawled out on your chest like a starfish and give him kisses but half the time simeon has to ask you because for some reason you just won’t do it on your own???

at one point simeon starts getting a little insecure that you don’t actually really like physical affection and are just going along with it for him

because he’s a sensible angel, he brings this up with you before jumping to conclusions

he was not prepared for you to reply that you always wait for him to confirm that he wants affection because you’re afraid that you’ll accidentally hurt him with your strength if you go for it by yourself

simeon doesn’t cry a lot but dear god did he come close that day

after that it’s just hand holding and hugs and forehead kisses galore from you and simeon couldn’t be happier

now, it’s time for a bit of backstory

you were created purely to fight during the big celestial war, which is why you are so Beefy and Stupid

the beefy is because they needed you to be both strong and intimidating, while the stupid is because they didn’t create you with anything but fist fighting in mind

during the war you were a force to be reckoned with because you could just run at and headbutt a demon and they’d immediately be flung straight out of the skies and back into the devildom

and, even better, this meant that you didn’t have to kill anyone! you could just punt them so hard that they’d be flung out of the realm where the battle’s taking place entirely

once the war was over though they didn’t really know what to do with you

you were basically just this giant baby who didn’t know how to do anything but war

so they just dumped you in a garden and told you to take care of the flowers

which was how simeon originally met you! he was taking a walk around the gardens and saw you crying over a tree that you accidentally snapped in half with your big clumsy hands

now, simeon wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, but HOLY FUCK

if he hadn’t already been an angel in the celestial realm he’d have thought you were some divine being from the heavens

anyway long story short simeon consoled you and started helping you take care of the garden, taught you how to live a life in times of peace, spent entire nights just lying awake and thinking about your smile and your laugh and how warm your hands look to hold and how it would feel to hug you, and finally managed to confess to you without you misconstruing it as just a Friendly Act of Kindness, and now you two are the proud holders of the title Cutest Couple in The Universe

granted only asmo calls you two that but you’ll take it

speaking of asmo allow me to segue this to the rad exchange programme era

you get so sad when simeon tells you he’ll have to leave for a year

your face falls when he breaks the news and your voice is all lost and quiet when you ask, ‘does that mean i can’t see you?’

simeon is absolutely devastated

it’s like a thousand puppies and kittens are being murdered right in front of him

he nearly cries (when i say nearly i mean he does)

but he can’t back out of the exchange program now, and one year isn’t THAT much for beings that live for possibly forever, so in the end, giving you a giant hug and about a million kisses to make up for the ones you’ll miss over the coming year, simeon leaves for the devildom

he makes it about a month and a half without you before he starts getting all mopey

and you’re not doing much better up in the celestial realm

michael actually has to message simeon and ask him how to deal with you because you spend every day dejectedly shuffling around the gardens that you take care of and it’s making everyone sad just looking at you

simeon reads that message and immediately decides that either he’s going back to the celestial realm or you’re coming down to the devildom

the authorities are a little cautious about it because you’re one of the purest angels they have and they really don’t want you getting corrupted by demons

but simeon assures them that the few demons that you’ll actually be having contact with wouldn’t do that, and you’ll be under both his and lord diavolo’s protection

so you end up being allowed to join simeon in the devildom for his exchange year!!!

honestly with the way the two of you react when you see each other again you’d think you hadn’t seen each other in years

simeon runs up to you and jumps straight into your arms and you spin him around in a big hug and ahhhhhhhh it’s like a teen romance movie but with an actually compelling relationship

and so you move into his bedroom (because of course you’re still going to share one down here) and take up a temporary position as a gardener to take up time since you can’t really do school

pros: simeon now gets to see you every day again and you look very cute bustling around the devildom’s fancy gardens with a watering can and wheelbarrow. also he gets to watch you lift an entire shed and it’s the best thing he’s ever seen

cons: the others are all basically in love with you now as well

simeon’s torn between ‘why wouldn’t they be, he’s literally the most perfect being ever’ and ‘what the fuck, that’s MY boyfriend’

belphie likes you because you are similar to beel and you’re also warm and big and strong so he can take naps on you and you won’t be bothered in the slightest

one day simeon sees belphie just jump onto your back and start sleeping there while you’re crouched in the garden doing some weeding and he’s so stunned by the sheer audacity that he forgets to be mad about it

honestly you don’t really notice that belphie is sleeping on you until you go to get up and feel something move on your back

and then, being the dumb precious idiot you are, you just lie face first there on the lawn so that he can carry on sleeping without being disturbed

consequence: simeon nearly cries at your sweetness but is also incredibly jealous and belphie is now having Feelings that he didn’t sign up for

beel meanwhile isn’t sure how to feel about you at first because he kind of feels like you’re stealing his twin all the time, but then you make him your special candied fruits (from produce that you grew yourself) and he loves you from that point forward

also PLEASE share your workout routine with him he wants to know your secret

it turns out that you don’t really have a workout routine?? you were just made like that

though the constant exercise and heavy lifting and stuff you do as part of your daily garden-care routine (you take care of basically all of the gardens back in the celestial realm) helps as well

he’s a bit disappointed but he does like that you can pick him up without any effort

one time he asked if you were capable of it and without missing a beat you went ‘let’s find out!’ and straight up swept him off his feet

beel was fucking screaming on the inside but no can’t feel feelings that’s simeon’s boyfriend

meanwhile asmo… okay we all know the way asmo is

boy took one look at you and immediately started drooling (figuratively anyway. physically his jaw just dropped)

kudos to him though, he backs off with the flirting as soon as simeon informs everyone that you’re his partner

asmo may be the avatar of lust but he is no home wrecker (he still finds an excuse to hug you every time he sees you though because awooga, muscles)

(he does know his boundaries so simeon doesn’t mind too much)

asmo also very likes the fact that you have such a green thumb because it means you can grow the prettiest flowers and you’re always willing to trim him a few to use as accessories

at some point simeon accidentally eavesdrops in on a conversation between the two of you where you’re just gushing about what kind of flowers he likes and how you’re going to plant them everywhere in the devildom because you like it when he smiles when he sees them

CRITICAL HIT!!!!!

simeon is pretty sure he combusts on the spot, while asmo is just squealing

thus was the origin of the title ‘Cutest Couple in the Universe’

satan on the other hand is mostly disinterested in you at first

the two of you live in pretty different worlds even if you live within the a five minutes’ walk of each other. he prefers to stay locked up in his room or the library and just curl up with a good book or ten for hours on end, while you’re always outside, digging flower beds and pruning bushes and cleaning fences and walls and basically doing every other little bit of manual labour that none of the brothers could be bothered to do before

he does note that you’re pretty good at what you do but that’s about it

until one day

you’re just pottering about in the garden outside the house of lamentation doing your angelic gardener thing when the stray cat that satan’s secretly been feeding for the past month or so comes by for its usual afternoon meal

satan has the window overlooking the garden so he quickly spots its ginger fur as well as you staring directly at it, and he immediately panics because what if you scare it away with your intimidating stature???

(yes, part of the reason satan doesn’t acknowledge you before this is because he was kind of scared of you and your muscles that he heard could punt beings out of entire realms back in your hey-day)

so he quickly dumps his book (though not without carefully bookmarking his place first) and rushes down to the garden in hopes of salvaging the situation, only to find you lying face first on the grass once again, though this time it’s not his little brother on your back

it’s the cat, who is purring like a little motor and aggressively kneading its paws against your back

satan can’t even see your face in this moment but he still basically gets cupid-shot in the heart because this is the cutest thing he’s ever seen

he has to force himself to calm down for a bit before he approaches lest he get overexcited and accidentally incur simeon’s wrath in the process

anyway after that satan makes a beeline for you every time he sees you and learns that you are an Absolute Idiot, but it just makes him like you even more

if satan was intimidated by you at first though, levi is downright terrified

you look like you could snap him in half with a single punch

he doesn’t try to talk to you at all for the first few weeks because how could he possibly find common ground to talk to you about?? you probably hunt dragons and eat rocks or something in your spare time

it isn’t until satan brings you up one day and mentions that you are incredibly dumb of the ass and probably couldn’t hurt a fly even if you tried that levi even entertains the idea of befriending you

he’s still not making the first move though

but it turns out that he doesn’t have to! one day you just show up at his bedroom door holding a giant crate of his latest akuzon haul

turns it got dropped off at the local post office after traffic problems and you volunteered to go pick it up and bring it back

anyway levi thanks you and starts unpacking his stuff, expecting you to leave in silence, but then he looks over and sees you just standing in front of his tv and staring at it

he’d been playing some battle platformer to pass the time before you showed up, and while levi himself doesn’t consider it particularly remarkable, you’re absolutely fascinated

being a gardener in the celestial realm you’ve never really had experience with this kind of thing, and you’re even more tech-illiterate than simeon, so what you’re seeing is basically like magic to you

so levi takes it upon himself to teach you as much about the art of gaming as he can in the short span of the next four hours before simeon gets home from a meeting of some kind and you inevitably immediately run off to greet him

you learn the basics relatively quickly but you’re still pretty awful at it

levi loses count of the amount of times you’ve accidentally run right off the end of the platform and fallen to your death once it reaches thirty two

it’s pretty much the most he’s laughed in, like, forever

congratulations! you have gained a new member in your party! levi will now follow you to the ends of the earth because you are the first person he feels like he can just be totally at ease around without being judged at all and just have fun with

(once, after you leave another gaming session to go cuddle with your boyfriend in the garden, levi catches himself thinking that ‘it isn’t fair that simeon gets to date him’ and has to do some serious self assessment)

mammon meanwhile has none of the reverence for you that his brother does

the amount of times he’s tried to rope you into his money-making schemes (which never work because he fails to realise that you are incapable of doing anything malicious in the slightest) is honestly just embarrassing at this point

simeon has to step in more than a couple of times because honestly mammon could ask you for your wallet and you’d probably just give it to him without another thought

that being said your wallet wouldn’t be much use because you never have any money

you just don’t understand the concept of exchanging money for goods and/or services so you never see any need for it

that being said, simeon does give you some money every time you go out into town on your own because something will inevitably catch your eye and you’ll suddenly realise that you just cannot live without it

the thing is simeon spoils you ridiculously so he always gives you way more money than would be considered a reasonable allowance

which means all mammon has to do is tag along and ask you nicely and you’ll probably buy him anything he wants

he does this a couple of times but then stops because he actually starts feeling bad about it

something just doesn’t sit right with him when he’s walking around with a bunch of shiny new things you’ve bought him with money that was meant to be spent on you while the only thing you’ve bought of your own volition is a pack of chocolate lollipops shaped like rabbits to share with simeon and luke

he may be the demonic avatar of greed but even he has a line that he won’t cross

he makes up for it by buying you things instead

nothing too expensive (he’s still mammon after all), just little things like sweets or bulbs for flowers you haven’t tried planting yet or food colouring for you to use for your candied fruits

speaking of those candied fruits, guess who loves and would probably kill a man for them?

lucifer

man may not seem like it but he has a hell of a sweet tooth

there was a bit of tension between the two of you when you first met (well there was tension from lucifer anyway) because he’d never met you like he had simeon and luke and had no idea what you were like

plus he’d heard about how you’re everyone’s favourite now back in the celestial realm and the little piece of him that still misses his life as an angel is a little petty about it

but then he interacts with you more and he realises that that favouritism is absolutely deserved

he will not admit it but he has wondered what being carried by you would feel like on multiple occasions

figures out how to read you really well which isn’t much of an achievement when you wear every single feeling you have on your sleeve but it still brings him a bit of satisfaction when he notices something that simeon doesn’t

he may be a pridey mcprideface but he is willing to give up a bit of that pride by pretending he can’t carry something heavy so that he can watch you do it

simeon acts like he doesn’t notice this but he absolutely does and he doesn’t know if he should tease lucifer about it or whack him over the head with a newspaper for it

all that aside though, much like simeon, lucifer also thinks you’re just the cutest

he comes across you building a pillow fortress in the middle of the house of lamentation’s living room one day and is understandably like “what are you doing in my house and what are you doing with those pillows”

you explain very seriously that satan asked you for help in an apparently pre-arranged pillow fight with mammon and that every warrior needs a well-protected base of operations and offer to show him all the optimised battle features somehow recreated from nothing but cushions and blankets and chairs

lucifer’s heart goes d o k i d o k i

he also has experience with Big and Dumb men from dealing with both beel and diavolo (when the three of you are together it’s just himbo3) so the stupid doesn’t bother him much

speaking of diavolo (wow i am nailing all of these transitions from character to character look at me go)

this man is basically just a grown up golden retriever boy and you are a big gentle st. bernard so the two of you get along like a house on fire

you’ve seen how much this man gushes about lucifer. now imagine that times a thousand

that is how he talks about you

honestly sometimes you’d think HE’S the one dating you

simeon would probably get defensive if he didn’t get so much whiplash from their conversations about you

diavolo: “i must say, i never would have pinned [name] as being your type”

simeon, ready to Fucking Brawl: “excuse me?”

diavolo: “though i don’t blame you, have you seen his page in that book about the celestial war? the illustration does his true beauty no justice, of course, but it’s enchanting in and of itself. to be honest i’d have loved to have seen him in action during the war, i imagine it would have been quite breath-taking to see”

simeon: “…what”

barbatos is usually just there in the background during half of these exchanges and he has to seriously stiffen up his poker face to resist just bursting into laughter

the other half of the time the conversation is just simeon and diavolo going back and forth gushing about you

barbatos honestly dislikes you a bit at first

not for any personal faults of your own! it’s just that all your garden work + your very forgetful mind means that you’re often tracking dirt everywhere

it doesn’t help that diavolo keeps inviting you over to the castle for tea and a chat and half the time you leave these big footprints on the floor and he wants to cry because he just spent four hours mopping that

he mentions it to diavolo in passing at one point, who then passes the message on to simeon

barbatos kind of gets concerned for himself because he knows simeon does not take well to you being insulted (one time a demon at the r.a.d. called you an ‘unintelligent buffoon’ and he was ready to start a fist fight right then and there)

not that it was an insult, but you never know how love can blind you to reason

but simeon just assures him not to worry and tells you to remember to clean your shoes as well as changing clothes after doing some gardening

normally you’d forget being told these things within a few hours but simeon offers to give you a kiss every time you remember to do this so now you remember every single time you’re about to enter a building after doing some gardening

after that barbatos holds no ill will to you at all

he teaches you how to bake and is honestly so endeared by how clumsy you get in the kitchen

you knock an entire container of salt into the cake mix by accident because your hands are too big and you moved too fast and barbatos is just like 🥺

he low-key babies you even though he’s like an entire two heads shorter than you

you don’t mind though because getting babied by barbatos means you get given all sorts of cakes and sweets all the time

simeon isn’t sure how to feel about it but it doesn’t seem to be the patronising kind of babying (it’s more of an affectionate doting) so he lets it happen

what he doesn’t let happen is solomon’s relentless attempts to feed you his food

you are both too dumb and too nice to realise just how bad his cooking is, but simeon knows you have a sensitive stomach and are actually a pretty fussy eater - you just tend to stay quiet when something isn’t to your liking because you don’t want to complain

having had a sample of solomon’s food himself in the past, he knows that you’ll probably get sick eating it, and he doesn’t want you to be uncomfy so he refuses to let you try even a bite

it’s like he has a radar in his head that goes off every time solomon approaches you will a bowl of ‘noodle soup’ that looks more like something he’s fished out of a nuclear waste tank

solomon, when he’s not trying to indirectly poison you, is probably the guy you spend the most time with apart from simeon and luke

he’ll just hang around nearby with a spell book while you do your gardening and show you some neat little magic tricks every now and then

he tries to help with the gardening but he’s not exactly physically strong and he nearly breaks his back trying to lift a giant bag of compost

so he decides it’s probably better for him to just watch from afar

kind of wants to conduct an experiment to see just how much weight you can lift before you start getting tired

one time he sees you cut down a whole tree with one hard swat of your hand and just walk off carrying it over your shoulder and he has to take several deep breaths

luke knew you already, so not much changes while you’re in the devildom

he really wants to learn to make candied fruits the same way you do but he can never get the hang of boiling the sugar mixture to the right heat and consistency (plus he’s kind of scared of how hot it gets)

you like to just carry him around on your shoulders and while luke would normally bristle at being treated like a child, you act like this with nearly everyone

(once he sees you running around the garden with diavolo of all people perched on your shoulders, arms raised in the air like he’s on a rollercoaster ride, and he nearly passes out on the spot)

he seriously adores you and acts like a guard dog whenever he feels like any of the others are trying to take advantage of your dim-witted naïveté because NO demons are allowed to harm his big brother like that

he will also chase them off with a stick if he has to if they get too close because no being is allowed to even remotely try to disrupt your relationship with simeon

simeon himself is no fool, and he’s well aware of the effect you have on pretty much everyone you come across, but he trusts them because they’re his friends

besides (and he isn’t being cocky or anything), it’s not like the relationship you have with them even holds a candle to what you have with him

they’ve all known you for less than a year, he’s loved you for nearly two millennia

they might be allowed take naps on your back while you work or be carried about on your shoulders, but do they get to spend every night snuggled up in your arms, feeling your chest rise and fall with every breath you take? no, he doesn’t think so

in conclusion: one day himbos like you will probably take over the world with their big muscles and unwavering loyalty and clueless grins that could make anyone’s heart skip a beat, and simeon’s pretty sure he’d be okay with it

1K notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 3 years

Note

omg i’m so excited i like,, spam read all of your writing and now i can request,,, anyway, could i request maybe something similar to your Tanaka x femboy reader, but with Oikawa? like he mistakes him for a girl and maybe flirts with the reader a little bit and the reader i just like ,,”you do,, you do realize i am a man correct” and hijinks ensue?? sorry if this is too vague i suck at describing things. lotsa love your writing is literally my favorite 💕

Omg wait Oikawa??? And femboy reader??? Hijinks???? Take me now—

——————

Oikawa x reader - Oikawa Tooru Goes Both Ways

⚠️warnings - reader is mistaken and referred to unintentionally as a girl. I assure you, this is a male reader. Femboy reader, if that triggers you.

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

Oikawa couldn’t help but stare as a...rather cute girl stepped into the gym.

“Oi! Shittykawa! Focus!” Iwaizumi was about to hurl a volleyball at Oikawa’s head when he caught sight of where he was staring. He looked from the newcomer, back to Oikawa’s eyes tracing their form up and down.

“Iwa-chan...” Oikawa held his breath as he pointed subtly. “Who is that?”

Iwaizumi looked over back to the intruder. Sure enough, some girl with (h/c) styled hair stood at the foot of the door awkwardly. They weren’t sporting the school uniform, instead wearing a skirt with a cafe apron tied around their waist. Oikawa recognized the cute logo on the somewhat dirty apron as the coffee shop he’d visit on days he wasn’t particularly busy.

All in all, this stranger was incredibly attractive.

Eventually, coach Irihata emerged from the storage closet, and motioned the stranger over. The stranger perked up, pulled out a slightly-wrinkled paper from their back, and timpered off into the office.

Oikawa sighed dreamily. “Iwa-chan...is this what I think it is? Are we fiiiiiinally getting a cute girl manager to manage our team?!”

He draped himself over Iwaizumi’s shoulders. “Aaaaah~! I’m so happy~! And it’s such a cutie too!”

“Get off me, dumbass. You have like...millions of girls throwing their panties at you, literally all that look like her. And you go for the one who decides to join our club?”

Oikawa huffed. “What’s so wrong about that! She’s cute! And she looked so shy standing there...aaaah, I’m swooning just thinking about wrapping her up in my arms-!”

“I’m saying,” Iwaizumi bonked Oikawa on the head. “If you manage to get with her, then break her heart, or at the very least make her uncomfortable, she’ll have to see your annoying face all day at practice, and then she won’t wanna be manager anymore! Because she has to see you!”

Iwaizumi pinched at Oikawa’s scalp. “I want a cute girl manager and to have them actually stay! And who knows? We get brownie points if it’s not another one of your fangirls trying to get in your pants by joining the club!”

“Ow! Mean Iwa-chan, bad!”

“I’m not a damn Pokémon-!” Iwaizumi was about to kick Oikawa in the back, before letting himself simmer down and take a deep breath. He lowered his legs, and turned towards the office door. “...I’m gonna go look at that girl’s application and see what class she’s in. Maybe we can, I dunno, make her a welcome basket of fruit or some corny shit like that.”

“Let me come with you-!”

“No! You’ll just scare her away, and you have cleaning duty! All you need to do is take down the net, and I’ll meet you outside when I’m done. If you be good, I’ll tell you her name.”

Oikawa thought about it for a second.

“Deal.”

He disappeared to take down the net from the poles. Iwaizumi sighed, and walked towards the door. They were the only two left in the gym, as they were in charge of cleanup for the day, so no one else but him should be in the office. Well, minus the new girl and coach Irihata.

Iwaizumi slid open the door. “Yo.” He greeted. He looked around the room, only finding coach Irihata.

“...Didn’t someone come in here with you with an application form?”

Coach Irihata chuckled. “Oh, yeah,”

“He just wanted to drop in his member application before his part-time job made him go back to work.”

Iwaizumi froze.

“...he...?”

“Yeah, he wanted to join the club as a (Position name). He’s not confident about his jumping or spiking abilities, but he claims to be really dang good at digging and receives.”

The two looked at eachother in silence. Wasn’t she-well, he—wearing a skirt? Now that he thought about it, everything about him looked like...well...a him, minus the skirt. Iwaizumi dashed to the table and picked up the application resting there peacefully.

‘(L/n) (Y/n) - 2nd year, class 4’

‘Position - (Position name)’

Iwaizumi scanned the page. He wanted to doubt this was the ‘cute manager’ they laid their eyes on, but they even had a school photo clipped onto the corner of the paper. Sure enough, that was him. His eyes eventually landed on something printed on the middle of the page.

‘Gender - male’

That proved it. The ‘cute girl manager’ Oikawa was just fawning over turned out to be a guy. And their future teammate, no less. Iwaizumi wanted to laugh in Oikawa’s face.

“Is there something wrong, Iwaizumi-kun?”

“Pfft-no! N-no, sirrrrr....” Iwaizumi set the paper down and walked out the the room, doing his best to keep in his snickers.

Oikawa jogged up to him excitedly once he stepped out of the gym. “So? Did ya find out her name? Her class? Is she our manager?”

Iwaizumi opened his mouth to say something, before letting his mouth clamp shut.

“Nah, coach said I couldn’t see it.”

He watched as Oikawa deflated, trudging his way over to the club room to change and go home. Iwaizumi did his best not to bust out laughing on the spot.

This should be fun.

——

“Iwa-chan!”

“No, you stalker.”

“But Iwa-chaaaaaan!” Oikawa whined. “Why not?! Practice ended early, and we could use some coffee! Come buy coffee with me!”

“You just wanna use me as an excuse to see that bo-that girl who came into our club yesterday, idiot! That’s stalking! You’re acting like your little fangirls!”

Oikawa pouted, and Iwaizumi prayed he didn’t catch him on his little slip-up. He turned around, walking off out of school gates. Oikawa dejectedly trailed behind him.

“I’m going home. Don’t bother me if it’s about that manager again—“

Just then, a text tone pinged from Iwaizumi’s pocket. He stopped mid-sentence, fishing out his phone and opening his messaging app.

‘Mom - no ones going to be home because we have to go out real quick. The house is locked, and you left your spare keys with me again. Go out and have fun with Tooru-kun before I come back!’

Iwaizumi deadpanned. Oikawa had his chin resting on his shoulder, with a shit-eating grin Iwaizumi didn’t even have to look at to know was there.

“Yeah, Iwa-chan. Listen to Mrs. Aina and hang out with Tooru-kun for a bit. We can go to the cafe and hang out like your she said, Iwa-chan~”

Iwaizumi pushed past Oikawa bitterly. “Don’t... fuckin’... call my mom by her name... dumbass... stalker... Shittykawa...” he grumbled as he trudged his way in the direction to the cafe. Oikawa let out a small “Yay~!”

——

Hiding behind the big, laminated menus the cafe provided, Oikawa kept glancing over to the cashier-area to try and find (Y/n). Iwaizumi deadpanned, sitting back in his chair nonchalantly.

“You’re acting stupid.”

“I’m being sneaky.”

“You look more suspicious than if you were to act like yourself.”

“As if you would know!” Oikawa whisper-yelled to Iwaizumi, momentarily letting his menu fall flat. “I’m trying not to get caught, unlike one of us-!”

“Hello?”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi froze. Oikawa rigidly turned to the voice, while Iwaizumi almost fell back in his seat.

There stood the boy—well, the ‘girl’, in his work apron, this time, up close. Oikawa could see the detail in his eyes, the way a few of his hairs fell onto his face and stuck because of the small layer of sweat on his forehead, even taking in the small kitty hair clip resting in his hair.

“Hu...huaai...” Oikawa breathed out. Iwaizumi bit his lip. If he started laughing now, Oikawa would tell his mom he was bullying him again.

“Hello! I was wondering if I could get you two anything to drink! No worries if you aren’t ready to order yet.”

His voice had a soft tamber to it, a warm, welcoming aura that fit the vibe of the cafe perfectly. Iwaizumi could see how Oikawa, and probably other people, could mistake him for a girl. Especially with the way he dressed and carried himself as evident to yesterday’s practice.

Iwaizumi tilted the menu infront of him up a bit. “I’ll get a small black coffee. Whabout you, Oikawa?”

When he got no response, other than the hum of acknowledgment from (Y/n), Iwaizumi looked up. Oikawa was staring dumbly at (Y/n) again, and seconds later (Y/n) was caught under his gaze. He stared back awkwardly, waiting for Oikawa to say something or at least order something, until he suddenly jolted up in pain.

Iwaizumi dug his heel deeper into Oikawa’s foot. “Say something, dumbass! Stop staring!” He hissed, covering his mouth from (Y/n) in petty attempts to mask their conversation.

“Ow! Ow! I’ll get a peppermint tea please-! Stop it!”

(Y/n) scribbled down Oikawa’s order, smiling patiently as he did. Iwaizumi removed his foot. There was a beat of silence, until Oikawa smoothly rested his chin on his hand.

“Soooo, (L/n) (Y/n)-chan, is it?” Oikawa said, as he peered at (Y/n’s) name tag. “Pretty masculine name for a cute girl like you~”

Iwaizumi choked on his spit. (Y/n) tilted his head to the side, looking up from his notepad to peer back at Oikawa.

“What...did you say?”

“Sorry, sorry!” Oikawa rubbed the back of his head cutely. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I think (Y/n) is a cute name~”

Iwaizumi didn’t know if he wanted to die from laughter or embarrassment. He was going to pop a vein trying to keep in his cackles.

“Ah. It’s the clothes, isn’t it?” (Y/n) mused. He took a step back, looking at his rather-feminine clothing choices for the day. “I understand why. I get that a lot.”

“...What does your clothes have to do with your name?” It was Oikawa’s turn to sound confused. Iwaizumi let out a few haggard, stifled snickers at his dense expression. (Y/n) raised an eyebrow.

“You...” He pointed at himself with his pen. “You do realize I’m a man, correct?”

Oikawa choked. His eyes widened as his smile cracked a bit. Iwaizumi had to hide his face in his jacket to prevent himself from bursting out into hackles. Oikawa gave a nervous smile.

“Aha...haha...funny joke..”

“I’m not joking, though...” (Y/n) smirked. He wouldn’t deny that seeing the faces of people flirting with him after he told them he had a dick was a guilty pleasure. “Want proof?”

(Y/n) grasped Oikawa’s wrist, tugging it forcefully, and moving his apron to the side. He brought it down closer to his groin until Oikawa sputtered and flailed on the table.

“No! I-I believe you! I-I can see it from here—I don’t need to touch it-!” Oikawa shrieked. Iwaizumi clutched his stomach from laughing too hard, already given up on keeping it in. He snorted loudly, choked on that snort, and erupted into a series of cough-laughs.

By the time Iwaizumi’s laugh turned into the kind where no noise came out-but it hurt in your stomach anyways—Oikawa was laying his head on the table, embarrassed, while (Y/n) chuckled along.

“You knew, Iwa-chan! You knew!” Oikawa hissed, holding his poor, abused hand. “You set me up for failure!”

“You did that to yourself.” Iwaizumi said between breaths. “He’s actually gonna start attending practice as a (position name) starting next week. We don’t have a manager after all.”

“And you got my hopes up for what?!” Oikawa cried out, making Iwaizumi snort again. (Y/n) raised his eyebrows.

“Manager?”

“Oikawa thought that when you came to drop your registration form in yesterday, that you were signing up to be a manager since he thought you were a girl. I saw your form though, so I knew but this guy here didn’t.”

Iwaizumi nudged at Oikawa, who was hiding his face in his hands. “You better be nice to him, though. He’s your new captain starting next week.”

“Ah! How fun! Having my new playboy captain flirt with me before I even join the club. ” (Y/n) mumbled, as he scribbled down something else in his notepad. Iwaizumi heckled when Oikawa whined with his head down.

He didn’t raise his head back up until a slip of paper was placed gently on top of his head. He heard a “I’ll go get your drink ready.” From (Y/n), before he looked up and noticed he was gone. He caught the slip of paper falling off his head as he sat up.

“What’s that?” Iwaizumi said lazily. Oikawa was staring giddily at the paper. He turned the paper around smugly, holding it up for Iwaizumi to read.

‘Call me. If you’re feeling fruity, that is. (xxx)-xxx-xxxx. -‘(Y/n)-chan’’

Iwaizumi stared at the neat handwriting, then back at Oikawa’s smug face.

“...Were you not just listening? He just tried to make you touch his dick? He’s a dude?”

“Eh. Cute girl, cute boy, he’s still cute~” Oikawa dreamily sighed as he watched (Y/n) make his tea behind the counter. “I’d still hit it till he breaks~”

“Pervert.”

“Says you.”

Oikawa earned a sharp thunk to the head.

——————

#haikyuu x male reader #tooru oikawa #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa #oikawa x male reader #haikyuu oikawa #hq x y/n #hq x reader #hq x male reader #haikyuu fic #oikawa x femboy reader #hq iwaizumi #hq oikawa

2K notes · View notes

teklarn · 3 years

Note

hi, this is my first ever ask so I'm not sure I'm doing this correctly, if that's the case I'm sorry; I don't know how tumblr works just yet >:')

would it be possible for you to write something about bakugo, pining incredibly hard for fem!reader and initially hating how strongly he feels about her? because they're not even friends, they only exchange few words occasionally and she doesn't even glance at his way whereas he slowly finds himself unable to divert his eyes from her during classes? shes always with damn deku and his friends and doesn't even seem interested in him at all but his heart can't ignore the way she looks at him proudly whenever they spar together, the way she sends him small confident smiles as they fight each other with all they have; so he thinks that maybe, maybe he might have a chance. basically bakugo liking reader so much he's completely lost in self-hatred because he always thought feelings were for weak romantics and not great people like him, but everytime he sees reader doing some badass things (again, like sparring with him and basically matching his skills etc...) he's reminded of how badly he likes reader? but when he finally accepts he's fallen for reader, after ignoring and trying to forget about how she makes him feel, he masters up the courage to confess? and it's a very clumsy confession because he's awkward and has no idea how to deal with those feelings? and he tries so hard to make reader realise he's never been more serious than now? and reader is startled and speechless before rejecting him? and at that point he's just completely humiliated, so he nods and walks away.

it might be a little dramatic but I've always been into unrequited love and one-sided pining. thank you, its okay if you don't want to write about this, i'll understand <33

𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader (my hero academia)

reblogs are greatly appreciated!

a/n: AHHHHH this is so cute <33 honestly this is super exciting for me and this ask made me so happy, lovey. i’m fairly new to tumblr, i’m usually just a reader but i wanted to migrate here from wattpad so this made me so happy. here u are my love <33 i hope this lives up to what u wanted !! :)) a bit lengthy, but i had a lot of fun writing it !!!

summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you.

genre: fluffy, fluffier than the clouds istg, however the clouds are sprinking a little teeny weeny droplet of angst.

warnings: cursing (bakugou, duhh), one-sided pining (on bakugou’s part) second hand embarrassment (on bakugou’s part bc we can all agree he’s a complete idiot when it comes to trying to get someone’s attention), just bakugou being a jackass, i gave the reader a quirk

word count: 3,859

(pls excuse any typos or mistakes, i edited to the best of my ability but i miss some things sometimes !)

- - -

part 2 is here my loves <3

brutal. it was utterly ruthless. he couldn’t focus, couldn’t think right. his hands were already exceptionally sweaty, but gosh when he saw your damn face, he was ready to explode. literally.

what the hell was it about you? was it your stupid smile? or the way you just seemed to carry every battle on your back? was it all the undeniably sweet things you do for others ‘just because’?

it made him angry that he thought about you, but gosh he couldn’t wait to see you every day.

just like any other day, bakugou found himself staring at the large door to the classroom, awaiting the moment you would bounce into his day, skirt shifting around your legs, bag slung loosely around your shoulders.

his leg was bouncing eagerly.

bakugou didn’t know when the feelings came. his cheeks just started flaring up all of a sudden and one day you just looked...different. you hadn’t done anything different to yourself. it was just him. not that he would ever admit that, to you or anybody else.

you were insufferable. you were stupid and obnoxious and so...so damn...

“y/n! come look at this!”

you’d come walking into class just as expected, and as soon as you did, that stupid nerd had called you over.

it didn’t help that deku sat right behind him, either. the two of you had recently gotten closer. bakugou noticed it last month when he yelled at the two of you to shut up about all might and get to work. he’d turned around to find you leaning over deku, hands resting on his shoulders while you peered at his phone.

“sorry, bakugou,” you’d said, barely acknowledging him. you had waved him off like an annoying fly. is that all you were to him? some nuisance that got in the way of your oh-so-entertaining conversations with deku?

all he heard nearly every day was your chipper voice talking to deku. always, “oh my gosh, midoriya, did you see the fight edgeshot was in last night?” or “midoriya! i have something to add to our quirk analysis book!”

that was the one that took the cake. you two dorks shared a notebook, occasionally passed between one another, and filled it with junk about quirks and pro heroes. but no matter how much he tried to tune you out, no matter how he tried to zone off and think about something else, you were always there. it made him want to vomit how much he thought about you.

you were doing an adorable shuffle over to midoriya’s desk and leaned over the table as you usually did while he angled his phone your way. “did you see this hero report?”

deku let you slip the phone out of his grasp to get a better look.

“no,” you breathed. “was this just recent?”

“yeah,” deku said, taking the phone back. “last night.”

“holy—”

“can you guys shut up over there?” bakugou said, his voice quaking.

“sorry, kacchan.” deku scrolled through the article.

dammit, bakugou thought. “i wasn’t talking to you, nerd. i was talking to shitface over here.” he jerked his head towards you. his eyes flared in anger when he saw you were looking down at your phone, now focused in on the article yourself. “i was talking to you, asshat!”

your eyes flicked up to his. you looked around for a moment before slowly pointing to yourself as if to say, “me?”

his face scrunched. “yeah, you. you’re so damn loud.” gosh, he hated how his voice was cracking, how he could feel his ears and cheeks lighting up in a swollen, cherry red. his stomach flipped.

she’s looking at you, gosh i’m sweating. i’m going to throw up. she’s so gorgeous. what the hell? they’re ugly as shit, i don’t think anything of them.

his eyes bore into yours.

“did you...need something?”

your voice broke his trance.

“kacchan, are you okay? you dozed off there for a second. you look like you’re burning up.”

bakugou looked to deku who was currently stretching out of his seat, arm extended. he pressed the back of his hand to bakugou’s forehead. “you’re really warm, kacchan. should we call recovery girl?”

it took him a moment to realize what was happening. his vision got blurry every time he was with you. bakugou smacked deku’s hand away. “i’m fine!” his voice lifted at the end, cracking. “i’m not sick. don’t you think i’d take better care of myself?”

“i don’t doubt you take good care of yourself, kacchan, but everyone gets sick once in a while. there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“i never get sick!” besides, if i got sick, i wouldn’t want you to be the one taking care of me.

he was still pissed. he was always in a bad mood, however, more so right now because you’d gone straight back to your phone and that stupid hero article that was supposedly so damn interesting.

soon enough, the bell rang, and you were seated at your desk. it was jirou’s old spot, however, after much convincing, you two had switched spots so you could be closer to deku. just a few months of getting close to the idiot and you two are suddenly best friends. jirou hadn’t minded one tiny bit, claiming she needed a break from how loud that section of the room was.

late as always, aizawa came trudging into your room. thankfully, his entire body wasn’t obscured by a yellow sleeping bag that smelled of something unwashed and coffee and gasoline. (for some reason, aizawa’s clothes always smelled of it.)

“lucky for you,” he began while shuffling papers on his desk, “all of you are doing training for these first periods.”

the class cheered in perfect unison, followed by their individual chatter. you had erupted with glee along with them, and bakugou was sure he felt his heart clench and then explode. just a tiny bit. but he shoved the feeling down just as quickly as it had come up.

“go out to the field and wait for further instructions. don’t make a sound in the halls otherwise, i’ll expel all of you.”

this shut everyone up in almost a second, the sound draining out just as water does. the first years trailed out into the hall, single-file mimicking the positions baby ducklings would take when following their mother.

bakugou found himself walking faster when he saw you take up your spot in the line, hoping to land his spot right behind you.

unfortunately, this idiot who considered himself bakugou’s friend tugged him back. “bakugou!” a familiar voice rasped.

“shitty hair, let go of me.”

“hey man, chill out. wanna partner up if we’re doing training in pairs?”

bakugou glanced at the line, the spot that should have been reserved for him now taken up by sato.

bakugou tugged his sleeve from kirishima’s hand. “whatever,” he snapped.

“sounds good!” kirishima flashed him a toothy grin and a thumbs-up. the bubbly feeling in bakugou’s chest died down as he stood behind sato, the overwhelming scent of sugar filling his nose, various candies that would go straight to your arteries.

“you smell like ass, damn,” bakugou remarked, squeezing his nostrils together.

luckily, sato was tall enough to not hear the insult, as he towered over bakugou by just another head. the line began moving like a sloppy train down to the change rooms.

bakugou scoffed as he listened to your giggle. he should be making you laugh.

“you’ll be given partners randomly from this box.” aizawa held up a familiar red box. “inside are all your names. i’ll select one, then that person will come up and pick another name from the box. that will be your assigned partner for today. as soon as you have your assigned partner, i want you guys to get straight to work.”

denki raised a hand, speaking before being called on. “sensei, why are we getting random partners? we’re always allowed to choose.”

“in the real world, you’re going to come across different villains every day. you’ll never improve your skills or your quirks if you keep fighting the same person.”

denki sighed, slumping back.

dammit, bakugou thought, gritting his teeth together. there wasn’t any way he wanted to be partners with you. it’s obvious he’d win the fight in the first few seconds.

yes! exactly right! bakugou internally grinned. his fluctuating feelings had finally soothed themselves. you were just another extra, and he had no room for you in his head.

aizawa took a moment to fiddle with the slips of paper inside the box. soon enough, he pulled out a name. “todoroki.”

todoroki walked up, digging his hand into the box when aizawa held it out for him. he pulled out a name, delicately unraveling the slip. “uraraka, you’re my partner.” he deadpanned.

the brunette grinned. “great!”

the two found their own spot on the field, and the class’s attention was once again diverted to their grouchy teacher as he pulled out another name.

“bakugou.”

bakugou strutted up without a worry in his mind. he pulled a name to find...

“y/n,” he said, voice a low growl. instead of the annoying fluttering in his chest, his eyes met yours, and they were filled with a different, new ferocity. he crumpled the paper in one hand, letting it twirl to the ground.

you looked at him, unsmiling. your eyes gave away nothing, and to bakugou’s knowledge, all you saw in him was another opponent.

it took him a moment to realize you had both locked eyes for about a minute. perhaps the two of you would have stayed as you were if aizawa hadn’t snapped at the two of you to get moving as yaomomo’s name was called.

bakugou was on his way to the back of the field, you followed close behind. while there was plenty of room still, he chose a secluded area. while it was still open enough to view everything going on so nobody got hurt, it was often nobody chose to train here. for whatever reason, you weren’t sure.

“wait up, bakugou,” you said. after a bit, you caught up to him.

“if you can’t keep up, then...” then what? he looked at you from the side of his eye. “then don’t keep up...” gosh, here came the embarrassing, disgusting feeling of redness in his cheeks.

you laughed. “what?”

“shut up.”

“you’re an idiot, bakugou.”

“i said shut the hell up!”

“what, so you can call me shitface in front of the entire class but you get all pissed when i call you an idiot?”

so you had heard him!

he tongued his cheek, curling his hands around an invisible ball, explosions sparking in the centers of his palms. “don’t expect me to hold back, dumbass.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it.”

gosh he loved that about you.

bakugou caught his thought in the air.

ahem...gosh he hated that about you.

you both charged in at the same time. his cry was louder than yours, but you struck first.

he admired your quirk. while he’d overhead you explaining all the drawbacks it had, it was strong, and you were strong because you knew how to control it.

purple arrows flew from your arms, going in your desired directions. if you lost focus for one moment, they’d vanish and weaken. if you focused too hard or long, you’d be plagued by a splitting headache.

he’d spent too much time obsessing over your strengths and weaknesses.

your arrows were weightless, however they were solid objects capable of carrying any mass, any thing, and worked as extensions of your body.

the violet arrow had shot out at him, twisting around his right gauntlet and crushing inwards. it’d snaked around him without him noticing, slithering along his back.

bakugou struggled to get the air-light arrow off his wrist, but it was no use. he glared back, only to see your focused, furrowed brows. he’d expected to see your cocky ass smiling. it was nice to see you weren’t.

that was one thing that had also caught his eye. you never underestimate your opponent, but you never underestimate yourself, either.

you conjured a larger arrow. it snaked around your right arm as you hurled bakugou into the air, releasing your grasp on him. you shot your other arrow into the air, and it raced into the sky.

it swerved. bakugou’s eyes went wide as the tip of the arrow came down on his chest. if they weren’t intangible things, he would have been bleeding out.

another drawback: the arrows, while they could solidify, they couldn’t do any actual damage. you had to use your surroundings to inflict harm on your opponent.

he coughed out as the arrow shot him into the ground. he hadn’t even touched you, and here he was, vulnerable and so...so...

you stood over him, hands on your hips.

vulnerable and so lost in that adorable, winning smile.

“get away from me, idiot,” he grunted and turned onto his side, his back crying out in pain.

“i think i won this fight, bakugou,” you chirped, rocking on your heels.

“don’t get arrogant, shithead. you won’t be winning against me anymore.”

you grinned, arrows shooting out behind your back.

the dorms were exceptionally quiet. you were typing away in the common room, bakugou on the couch reading. everyone was off doing something else. it was the weekend, luckily. he’d expected you to go bounding out with everyone else, however you’d stayed back, claiming you had some homework to catch up on.

bakugou being classic bakugou had stayed back. he was excited to have the dorm to himself, but your dumbass was stuck here with him. couldn’t you have done your typing in your room?

you were so aggressive on that poor keyboard.

“oi, quiet down with your shit typing.”

you barely grunted in response.

“don’t ignore me.”

“i heard you, mom.”

“the hell did you call me?”

no response. only your aggressive typing is a bit less aggressive.

“i can still hear it,” bakugou remarked, eyes fixed on your back.

“‘kay,” you said. your typing slowed a tad, and your pressure on the keys lessened.

it was quiet now. bakugou should go back to his book. he shouldn’t still be looking for a reason to talk to you.

the pages crinkled in his fingers. he bit his tongue, keeping his snarky comments in.

“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? doing your damn homework. it’s due tomorrow.”

you turned, pursing your lips. “and how would you know what i’m working on? are you stalking me?”

“i- what? no. you’re such an idiot, of course i’m not—”

“i’m messing with you,” you breathed, face un-moving.

“o-oh,” bakugou stuttered out. he blinked awkwardly.

“gosh, what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

“you’re annoying.”

“you’re a jackass.” you returned to your work. bakugou settled with reading in his room. reading consisted of jumping onto his bed just as the stereotypical high school girl would in an eighties movie. he buried his face in his pillow, face burning bright red. he cursed you for making him feel this way, and hated himself even more for how much he enjoyed it.

the next day came swiftly. you’d left early to go train with midoriya. there were many improvements needed to be made, but you weren’t doing too bad.

you propelled yourself forwards with an arrow, and your green-haired friend shot back, lightning flickering around his body.

landing back on the ground, you panted and swiped the sweat from your brow. from the corner of your eye, you could make out both kirishima and bakugou coming to the training grounds.

bakugou stopped in his tracks, frowning at the sight of you.

it was evident he hated you a bit more than everyone else. he was always making his annoying comments, he was always snubbing you. you saw no reason to talk to him, so you didn’t. either way, even if you tried, he would still get angry for no reason.

it’d taken you quite some time to get used to his obnoxious attitude. tuning him out had been the best course of action, in your opinion.

the way you and midoriya had bonded was through bakugou, in a way. the first day of school, bakugou had snapped at you for tripping over your laces and nearly crashing into him. later that day, midoriya had stepped up and apologized for his old friend’s actions.

you two had never been too close until now. the recent incidents going on with the league of villains had snagged your attention, and it seemed you were the only person who didn’t mind listening to him ramble on about heroes.

you were just as passionate and just as dorky, but midoriya could talk your ear off. you never minded, and he always took the hint when you didn’t want to listen.

you brought your leg up, twirling in the air with ease and watched your heel collide with midoriya’s face. he grunted, stumbling back.

you were about to charge in again when a hand landed on your shoulder, big and rough. you turned to see bakugou standing behind you, a scowl on his face.

“fight me again,” he demanded.

“excuse me?”

“don’t act like you didn’t hear me.”

“i’m in the middle of fighting midoriya right now.”

“so?”

“so if you think that i’m just going to ditch my friend because you want to fight, i won’t.”

“you’re being stubborn.”

“i’m being reasonable. back off.”

“y/n?” midoriya rubbed his jaw—right where you had struck him. “what’s going on?” he jogged up to you and bakugou.

“he wants to fight me in the middle of our fight. it’s nothing serious. don’t worry about it, midoriya. let’s just ignore him.”

bakugou made a sound someone would only make if they were choking. “the hell did you just say?”

“we’re ignoring you!” you waved him off and placed your hand on midoriya’s shoulder, wandering away.

it was new to him, not getting what he wanted. and what he wanted right now was to be around you. again, it wasn’t like he would ever admit that to himself.

“dude? you good? i thought you went off to fight y/n. i was so ready to cheer you on, dude,” kirishima’s chipper voice piped in. “she’s not fighting with you? why not?”

“the dumbass was just probably scared of getting her ass beat by me.”

“dude...that sounds really weird.”

“whatever, shitty hair. let’s go.”

the clock ticked. his ears were on fire. again.

gosh, it was happening again. it was all you. his face scrunched up, his voice would surely crack if someone were to ask him what was wrong.

bakugou was once again stuffing his face in his pillow, hiding his expression from no one. why did you have to go train with that shitty nerd? why were you always around deku? deku, of all people. what did he have? why was he so great?

bakugou was a man of many insecurities, but losing to deku? that was possibly his biggest fear.

perhaps he wasn’t the nicest, or the most soft person out there. bakugou could admit that, at least. but he was smarter than deku. he was stronger and he was better and people liked him more. right?

what was so...amazing about deku?

it was often bakugou would find himself obsessing over little, insignificant things such as these.

you were what he was thinking of most of the time. just yesterday, he’d gotten a test returned. he was expecting an eighty at the lowest, but more so expecting a high ninety. it’d come back exactly sixty percent.

sixty. percent.

bakugou vividly remembered staring at your face. he also remembered not being able to focus because of it. his grades were dropping because of you.

you were the only person to be able to do this to him.

his heart grew quiet, but the pounding of his didn’t cease. he lifted his head.

“alright, fine,” he said aloud. “you win, y/n. you win.”

he settled with getting over his feelings the way he’d read them in his collection of romance manga.

bakugou left his room and knocked on your door. (he was banging on it, but it was his nice way of knocking.)

you answered, looking around awkwardly. “yes?”

his hands shook. how was this supposed to go? sure, he’d seen it in romance movies and read it in books but it was always easy to tell whether the guy would get the girl or not.

in this instance, bakugou was clueless. for once in his life, he was clueless. you stood, tapping your foot with a hand on your hip, waiting expectantly for him to tell you why he was here.

“um.” he scratched behind his neck. “you uh- i uh...i’m sorry i called you a, um...a shitface.”

“okay? is that it?”

what? come on! it was already unlike him to apologize. what else did you want from him?

“did you...i’ve been thinking, maybe? maybe we could..train together as...friends?”

“...what?”

gosh dammit, as friends?

“whatever, um...the uh...” oh gosh, what did the boys do in all the books he’d read? right! bakugou stretched out his arm, resting his forearm on the door, leaning to the side.

although he didn’t, really, because like the clumsy jackass he was, bakugou missed completely and nearly toppled to the floor.

this earned a snicker from you.

his stomach flipped and churned, and bakugou found himself unable to reach your eyes. “uh, would you maybe..? okay, um. do you want to go on a date with me? you absolute fucking dumbass.”

your eyes flew wide. “...what?”

“no, that’s not what i— i mean i didn’t mean the last part. um, i meant the first part. the first two parts. the part where i was asking you if you wanted to go on a date with me and then before that when i said maybe because it’s still a maybe until you say yes. or...or no because that’s an option too.”

he swallowed.

you resisted the urge to mock him, just a little bit. “um, bakugou, listen.”

he leaned closer. “yes?”

“it’s going to be a no. i’m sorry, but i’m just not interested in you like that.”

it took him a moment to register everything. his shoulders sagged. gosh that was brutal.

“oh, alright.”

“yeah, uh, sorry about that.” you offered him a weak smile, still a bit shocked yourself. he did his best to return it, and when you closed the door, his face was ready to explode.

it was so damn difficult to deal with these feelings, but maybe it was better this way. knowing where you stood on your end, he knew he wouldn’t miss out on anything.

perhaps it was alright to admire from afar. things could happen in the future, right?

right now, he’d just wait. for a long, long time. bakugou pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat. maybe it was alright to not have you right now. perhaps he could better himself for you. just for you.

320 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

she ain’t a gold digger ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2417

request?: yes!

“Hi, please write a MGK imagine where the reader joins him on tour and he loses his wallet and when they decide to go out to a club one night, she asks him to get something from her bag and he sees his wallet in there. He accuses her of stealing and they get into a fight and she storms off. One of the guys confesses that they found it in their suitcase by accident and just slipped it in her purse to keep it safe but forgot to tell him and he apologizes profusely to reader and after some persuasion she forgives him”

description: when his wallet goes missing and he finds it in her bag, he lets the tabloids bullshit get to him and causes a fight he regrets

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst

masterlist (one, two)

The hotel room was basically overturned when (Y/N) walked in. Colson was tossing things from his suitcase, frantically searching for something.

“We’ve only been here like five minutes, is it really time to pull a full Motley Crue on this room?” she teased.

“I can’t find my wallet,” Colson said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

“What?”

“It’s not in my suitcase, it’s not in any of my pants - the ones in my suitcase or the ones I’m wearing - it’s not in my carry on or my jacket.”

(Y/N) crossed the room to kneel next to Colson. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. In a more calm manner, she looked through the things Colson had messily thrown about the floor. She helped him to look for the millionth time through everything, coming up empty yet again.

“Okay, don’t panic,” she said. “You had it at the airport because it was with your passport. We can call both this airport and the one we just departed from to see if it’s been turned in. In the meantime, we can lock your cards so no one can use them.”

Colson nodded, but (Y/N) could see the panic in his eyes. She cupped his face and made him look up at her. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find it, and if we don’t we’ll replace it the best we can.”

~~~~~~

Despite the stress he was still feeling, Colson decided to join (Y/N) and his friends at the club that night. He was glued to his phone the entire ride there, and once they got to the club (Y/N) took it and shoved it into her purse.

“Relax,” she told him. “We’re here to have a good time.”

“But what if someone calls about my wallet?” he asked.

“Then they’ll leave a message. I highly doubt anyone is calling you at almost midnight, though.” (Y/N) laced her fingers through Colson’s and pressed her body against his. “Please baby? For me?”

Colson sighed but (Y/N) could see the smile on his face. “Fine, but you’re paying for my drinks tonight.”

He had to admit the night out was what he needed. Besides the panic over his wallet, Colson had also basically worked himself to death the past few months. Between recording and filming, and now the tour. He was just grateful that his manager allowed (Y/N) to join them on tour. He’d be out of his mind without her.

(Y/N) pushed through the crowd to where Colson and his friends were and passed Colson his drink. He smiled and pulled her down onto his lap. (Y/N) giggled as Colson pressed a kiss onto her neck.

“If you guys are gonna fuck, do us the curtesy of going to the bathroom,” Rook called over the music.

“Please, I’m more classy than that,” Colson responded. “I’d fuck her in the coat closet like a gentleman.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and stood. “I’m gonna go dance. Enjoy your boy talk.”

Colson watched the beautiful curved figure of his girlfriend strut to the dancefloor. He finished his drink in one mouthful and went to follow her.

They danced together for so long that Colson had forgotten all of his worried for a brief period of time. He gazed lovingly into the face of the love of his life as she grinded her hips against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sheepishly smiled up at him.

“Wanna get out of here?” she whispered seductively in his ear.

“More than anything,” Colson responded. “I’ll get our things. Meet me at the front doors.”

(Y/N) smiled and winked at him as they went their separate ways. Colson pulled out the coat check tickets to get his jacket and (Y/N)’s purse, and passed it to the girl working there. As he shrugged on his jacket, he got the overwhelming urge to check his phone to see if anyone had called about his wallet.

He promised (Y/N) he’d have a good time, but she didn’t have to know he checked. He would just look and see if there were any missed calls then forget until morning.

However, when he opened (Y/N)’s purse to get her phone, he noticed something on the very top: his wallet.

Why does she have my wallet? he thought. And why wouldn’t she tell me that she had it? She knows how worried I’ve been about it.

He tried not to overthink anything before talking to (Y/N) first. He made his way to the front of the club where (Y/N) was waiting with a joint hanging partially out of her mouth. She looked over at him and smiled as a puff of smoke rolled from her lips.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked. When she noticed Colson’s serious look, her smile fell. “Babe, are you okay? Did something happen?”

He found his words stuck in his throat, so instead of speaking he just held his wallet up.

“Holy shit! Is that your wallet?” Colson nodded, still unable to talk. “Where did you find it?!”

“In your purse.”

(Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? How did it get in my purse?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

She looked up at him as she took another puff from the joint. “What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t mean anything, I’m just asking a question. This is your purse after all, the only people who touch it are you and me. Obviously I didn’t put the wallet in there so that leaves one person.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “Say it Colson. Fucking say it.”

“Did you take my wallet (Y/N)?”

“No! Of course I didn’t!”

“Then why is it in your purse?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and turned away from Colson. She started to walk away, but he followed her.

“If you took it, I just want to know why,” he said. “I’m not upset, I know there’s likely a good reason for taking it and not telling me.”

“I didn’t fucking take it!” (Y/N) snapped, spinning around to glare at Colson. “I know how this looks, I know it makes no sense, but I fucking swear to you I did not take your fucking wallet. I don’t know how it got in my purse, I don’t know why it’s there, but I did not take your goddamn wallet!”

“Then why the fuck is it in your purse?!”

(Y/N) let out a frustrated groan and buried her head in her hands. “Why can’t you just fucking believe me when I say I didn’t take it? I don’t know how it got in my purse, but I didn’t take it.”

“It just doesn’t make sense to me, (Y/N). How else would it have gotten there? You’re the only one who even touches your purse, none of the guys have had access to it. You knew when and where I had my wallet last, and now it’s showing up in your bag.”

“If I had taken it, why was I trying to help you find it? Why did I tell you to shut down your cards so no one could use them? Why was I helping you to call the airports and turn over the entire hotel room another two times looking for it? Why would I go to those lengths if I just had it instead of telling you just to replace it all?”

“I don’t know, (Y/N), maybe you were just making sure you could get whatever fucking money you could from me without me realizing.”

(Y/N)’s face fell and her eyes started to well with tears. After being together for a year, she thought he would know her better than that. She thought he wouldn’t believe the bullshit tabloid websites were publishing about her being a gold digger and just dating Colson for the money. She thought he would knew she loved him with her entire heart because of who he was, not because he was a famous rapper.

Apparently she was wrong.

Without another word, (Y/N) turned away from him and walked towards the line up of taxis that were waiting outside of the club. Colson watched her go, his anger starting to subside and be replaced by guilt. But he couldn’t go after her, he wouldn’t. He needed some time to think about all of this, to let her think about it as well. Neither one of them were going to get any answers if they kept fighting and hurting one another.

Colson entered the club again, order two more strong drinks and finding his way back to his boys. They all looked at him with confusion as he sat down where he had been before.

“Dude, I thought you left,” Baze said.

“I thought so, too, until I found my wallet in (Y/N)’s purse,” Colson muttered. “We got into a fight and she left.”

“Why were you fighting about that?” Rook asked, his eyebrows furrowing together.

Colson waved off the comment, not feeling in the mood to relay the entire fight back to his friends.

“Wait, did I not tell you I put the wallet there?” Slim asked.

Colson nearly choked on one of his drinks. He coughed and turned to look at his friend. “You fucking had it?”

“Yeah man, it somehow got in my carry on,” Slim responded. “I found it when we were waiting for our luggage. I put it in (Y/N)’s purse cause I knew it would be safe there. I could’ve swore I told you that, though.”

“You didn’t,” Colson said. “God fucking dammit, I’m an idiot.”

“What did you say to her, man?” Baze asked.

“I...I insinuated that she...she’s only with me for my money and she stole my wallet so she could get it.”

The guys chorused disapproving noises at the same time.

“Kells, (Y/N) is literally the realest person I’ve ever met,” Rook said. “She ain’t a gold digger, and you definitely shouldn’t think that she is.”

“I don’t,” Colson sighed. “I was just pissed. God, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Bro,” Slim said, leaning forward to look at Colson, “go after your woman and apologize.”

Colson nodded and quickly stood from his seat. The cab ride back to the hotel felt incredibly slow. Of course, he had left his phone in (Y/N)’s purse so he couldn’t even call or text her. There was no guarantee that she was even at the hotel, and that thought had Colson’s anxiety so much higher.

He desperately searched his pockets for the hotel key as he approached the room. When he couldn’t find it, he realized it was likely he had left that in (Y/N)’s purse, too. He sighed and began knocking on the door.

“(Y/N)?” he said, his voice soft. “Baby, can you let me in? I think my key is in your purse.” When there was no movement, he added, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should’ve listened to you. Slim admitted to putting my wallet in your bag, turns out he had it all along. I...I should never have thought it was you. I shouldn’t have said what I said. Can...can you let me in, please?”

There was silence. Not even signs of movement. Colson’s heart began to race as he realized the likeliness that (Y/N) had left. He had no idea where she could’ve gone, and now he didn’t even have any way of reaching her.

The door suddenly opened and (Y/N)’s tearstained face looked up at him. She didn’t say anything as she turned away and walked back into the hotel room. Colson followed in silence, unsure of what else to say. He just wanted to hold her and apologize forever, to do anything and everything she wanted to make things better.

(Y/N) got back into bed and laid with her back to Colson. He stood there in the dark, just looking at her.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“You called me a gold digger,” (Y/N) responded, her voice equally as small. “After almost a year together, you called me a fucking gold digger.”

“I know - ”

“We’ve talked about how much those tabloid stories get to me, how upset they make me, and you really had the audacity to bring that up and not believe me when I said that I didn’t take your wallet.”

The fact that her voice wasn’t angry, but rather sad, made everything so much worse. Colson winced at her words, feeling a lump form in his throat.

“I know,” he repeated. “I don’t know why I said any of that. I didn’t mean it, I know you love me. I just...I have no excuses. I am a total fucking idiot and you have every right to be angry with me. I know I’m sorry won’t cut it, but for now that’s all I can say. I really am sorry.”

There was another prolonged silence. (Y/N) didn’t even move from her place on the bed. Colson had accepted the fact that she probably hated him and was preparing to go stay with one of the guys for the night, when he heard the bed shift and (Y/N)’s soft voice ask, “Did the guys give you shit?”

Colson smiled to himself. “Yeah, they did. They called me an idiot.”

“You are one.”

“I know.”

Through the darkness of the room, Colson could see (Y/N) lift the blankets and gesture for him to join her. He quickly kicked off his shoes and threw his jacket somewhere on the floor. The minute his body connected with hers, he felt relief wash over him. He hugged her tightly, never wanting to let her go.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head and repeating the sentiment over and over.

“And I love you, as in you - Colson Baker. Not Machine Gun Kelly, not the man with the money. I love the real you.”

“I know you do. I promise I’ll never doubt that again baby.”

(Y/N) relaxed into Colson’s arms, still a bit hurt from what he had said but happy to have him there with her. Finally, after some time, the two drifted off to sleep.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #mgk #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Note

NO BUT LIKE CONCEPT: SMUT HC where mob!steve comes back from a rough night that leaves him very much outta it and ur the only one who can help him ... in more ways than one

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

I'm making this a drabble cause I can't work with HCs. Thank you❤ Warmings -explicit sexual content, dom Steve, daddy kink, spanking, blood and wounds, bullets. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

You put some distance between your poor ear and your phone upon hearing your friends loud screech, excited since she saw your Instagram post of your new engagement ring.

"It is so beautiful! And so unconventional and unique too!"

"Mm-hm," you hummed, applying a second coat of your fiery red nail paint, to make it more intense, you just knew it'd look amazing against Steve's pale skin, he absolutely loved it when you scratched him and were a bit rough with him.

You never gave him any pointers on what kind of engagement ring you'd like, only thing that was a bit too obvious - which you never actually needed to say - was that you loved shiny things. So he has gotten you a ring with a huge sapphire ruby and tiny sparkly diamonds adorning the band. It was everything you needed and more.

"Makes sense because our relationship is anything but conventional." Where he had never directly said that his job involved a few things that were kind of, sort of, illegal but you weren't an idiot, it didn't take you long to figure out.

You knew he was important and rich when he asked you out, not just because he wore fancy clothes, but the way he carried himself, tall and proud and an aura that dominated any room he was in, two bodyguards always around him, and when you both started getting serious he assigned Peter, who was sort of an intern or newbie from what you gathered, to always escort you places and take care of you.

Maybe it wasn't exactly the most rational thing to do - marrying someone who was as feared as he was respected - but all you knew was that he was a good man and you had faith in him, so you stayed away from that part of his life.

"You must be planning the wedding now," she beamed over the phone.

You scoffed, blowing on your fingers, "No, he's always at work these days. It's so annoying, if it doesn't change then I'm leaving and taking the ring with me."

You looked at it sparkling on your finger, it was too beautiful to part with. Besides it became yours as soon as he gave it to you.

"You're late, but there's nothing new about that," you puffed out your cheeks, hands crosses under your chest, as he loosened his tie and worked on taking off his shoes. He had been coming home past midnight for the last month, enough was enough!

"Doll," he groaned, looking at you and ready to tell you off and ask for some space, but then he saw you. In a satin babydoll that barely covered you, with lace trimmings that did nothing to hide your soft nipples, your toes and nails painted just the color he liked, and you were wearing those ridiculous fluffy slippers with bunny ears that he had grown to love.

His mouth opened and then shut like a damn goldfish, forgetting what he was about to tell you.

"Steven," you furrowed your brows.

He knew he was in trouble as soon as you called out his full name. "Yeah?"

"When are we going to discuss the wedding?"

"I'm sorry, doll, work has been hectic these days. But soon."

"Soon? Soon doesn't do it for me," jutting your hip and leaning against the door to your walk in closet, "I need an exact date."

"I can't give it to you right now, puppy," his jaw clenching as you rolled your eyes, "Watch yourself, sweetheart. I had a long day, you don't wanna get on my bad side today."

"You shouldn't have put a rock on it if you didn't intend on marrying me," rolling your eyes extra hard just to get on his nerves.

"I do want to marry you. But right now... you're sort of making me have second thoughts."

He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. Because you looked about ready to smack him.

"Fine then. I guess I'll leave and go live with my mother from now on. She would be happy for sure, she isn't too thrilled about our engage - " you stopped your rant as soon as you noticed crimson seeping through his crisp white undershirt as he took off his coat.

Your eyes as wide as saucers, your heart beating fast and hard in your chest and you could feel your eyes getting watery. You weren't handing out empty threats, you were definitely serious about leaving. Just to remind Steve of just how much he loves you.

It wouldn't be the first time. You had done it once before, when you went back to live at your apartment because he yelled at you for going out with your girlfriends without Peter. You didn't need a babysitter, especially not one who was several years younger than you. You had gathered up your things from Steve's penthouse and went home with a heavy heart. You loved him with all your heart, but there was no way you could make it work with someone who was that controlling and mean to you.

But he came to you, literally got on his knees to apologize and to beg for you to take him back. He even made you give up your apartment and got you a bigger house for you both to live in. Just so you couldn't take off ever again.

"Steve... your bleeding..." you said as you held back a sob. Any anger you had towards him was now gone.

"Oh, shit," he looked down to his side, "Must've ruptured the stitch or something..."

You walked over to him, holding onto his waist and looking up at him, trying not to look at his wound. You weren't that squimish around blood, it rarely ever bothered you, but this was your Stevie, and he was hurt. "What happened?"

"Its... It's nothing, doll. It was an accident."

"Yeah, I guess you slipped and fell on a bullet," you huffed.

"No, the bullet barely grazed me. And you know I don't like talking about those things with you."

"Why? I'm not stupid or weak, I have a right to know."

"Of course, not, puppy. You're my sweet, strong, smart girl," he cooed, bending a bit to peck your lips and then groaning. "Gotta, be careful with this," he said as your fingers worked on unbuttoning his shirt.

"If I'm so strong and smart then tell me what happened," you asked as you pushed his shirt off his shoulders. You didn't stop to marvel at his huge and perfect body like you always do, you looked at the fresh batch on stitches right over his hips.

"No, puppy. You're too good for that world, too good for me," he groaned as he sat down on the little pink couch he had put in the closet for you. Since you spent hours trying to pick outfits, he didn't want you standing too long and hurting your feet.

"Fine then don't tell me," you whimpered, rubbing your tears off with the back of your hand.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm right here, not going anywhere," he tried to pull you into his lap, usually he wouldn't even have to ask for you sit on it, but right now you were pulling away and refusing for some reason, "C'mere, doll," he almost whined. Not used to being told no by you anymore than you were by him.

"No, I don't wanna hurt you," you hiccuped, as your sobs started to calm down.

"You wouldn't. You could never hurt me. C'mere I wanna cuddle you and make you feel better," he tried to pull you into him again but you just shook your head.

"I should be the one making you better. Not the other way around. But I don't know how to..." you swayed from side to side, suddenly ashamed of your brash behavior from earlier. "I'm sorry, I was being such a brat earlier."

"It's okay, puppy. I forgive you. You were right, we need to fix a date and find a venue and get you a pretty dress. I wanna see you in one of those poffy gowns, like a princess."

"That's called a ballgown," you said proudly, having done your research now. You knew all about the styles of the gowns, sleeves, necklines, colors and everything. "And you're not going to be involved in dress shopping process. Grooms aren't supposed to see the dress before the wedding it's bad luck."

He hummed at that, a bit disappointed but he would eventually see it, and then take it off, so it wasn't a huge loss. "Yes, you're right. But, let's not forget, you were a bad girl."

You gasped incredulously, "Well, you were being a bad fiance!" Which earned you a swift smack to your backside, making you yelp and fall forward, holding onto his shoulders for support.

"I didn't mind you calling me out for that. I want you to be honest with me and tell me everything. But you threatened to leave me, again."

You pouted. Offended for being called out so blatantly. Yeah you always made empty threats, packed up your bags just for show, whenever you didn't get your way. Never considering his feelings when yours were hurt.

"Sorry," you mumbled.

"I forgive you. I know you didn't mean it. But I'll have to teach you your lesson. Just so you know better next time."

You nodded your head, which made him spank you once more, "Yes, daddy!"

"Good. How many do you think you deserve?"

"Um... Fifteen. Ten for threatening to leave, and five for giving you attitude."

"See, you're so smart. I'll punish you tomorrow though. I'm tired right now," he groaned as he sat back against the couch, squeezing your hips and admiring your figure, showing through the thin material of your nightie.

"Um, daddy?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Is there anyway I can make you feel better right now?"

"Yeah, you can give me a kiss. You didn't give me one this morning when I left, or when I came back."

"Okay, I'll kiss you. But I also wanted to do more..." you murmured, your face burned hot as you realised that Steve was going to make you say what you wanted to do.

"Like what?"

"Like, take your cock down my throat. Would that make you feel better? I'll try and be careful about your stitches." Truth be told you missed being intimate with him, you needed it as much as he did.

"It definitely would make me feel better. But I want to have you close to me," he stroked the inside of your thighs, hands dangerously close to your cunt, "Why don't you, come ride my cock. Just like I taught you, hm?"

"But - what if I hurt you..." you whined. But he wasn't having any of it, rolling your panties down your legs.

"You wouldn't, puppy, come on we'll be careful. Be quick."

You gave him a meek nod, unzipping him with shaky fingers, giving his glorious cock a couple of pumps before straddling his lap. You made sure to not put any pressure on his lap. Lining his cock up to your pussy with your hands wrapped around his neck, you slowly sanked down on him.

First giving him a nice and thorough kiss to make him for not kissing him goodbye or welcome home like you always do. "I feel so full," you say against his lips.

He hummed, squeezing your ass, "I was made for you, angel. As you were for me." He slid the straps of your nightie down your arms, exposing your breasts to him. He made sure to shower them with all his lips, sucking, kissing and biting and pulling with his mouth. You were making the sweetest of noises, trying to keep your moans in as he helped you bounce on his cock by holding onto your hips.

"You're doing so good. Being such a good girl for me. My sweet, best girl," he cooed, kissing your forehead, he knew how you were still vulnerable to be on top.

"Am I making you feel better, daddy?" you sniffled, his cock hiting you in all the right places, making it impossible for you to keep going and hold off your climax.

"I'm all better already, thanks to you, puppy."

#berry answers #steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers #steve x reader

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achillieus · 3 years

Text

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB

part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)

(other parts) (masterlist)

This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.

Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.

No more stars for you and I.

“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”

Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.

He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.

He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.

And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.

And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.

It goes like this:

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.

The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.

How could I ever forget someone like you?

The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.

Sebastian calls and texts a lot.

He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.

You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.

23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing

06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha

06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back

06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3

23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones

(three weeks and 10 seconds later)

“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”

“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”

Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.

You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.

“Surprise?”

Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.

(looking back, these were the golden days)

You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.

Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.

You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.

He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.

You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.

He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.

“Why are you so hot?”

“Climate change”

“Oh, shut up”

It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.

And that’s the saddest part.

Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.

And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.

Who falls in love in ten days?

Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.

What will you be then?

A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?

He is your whole world.

(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)

He is your whole world.

And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.

It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.

“I don’t agree with this.”

“Seb, it’s for the best.”

Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.

“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.

“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”

He nods, he understands.

“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”

Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.

“I know, I’ll love you the same.”

“Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”

He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.

And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.

(every night when you close your eyes you see him)

(every night you look at the stars and think of him)

A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“He said the exact same thing.”

You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.

Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.

Three months pass and you almost text him.

Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.

The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.

Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.

And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.

And he doesn’t know any constellation names.

And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.

It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.

Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.

No, it can’t be him.

You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on. And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.

Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.

He won’t recognize me, he can’t.

But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.

He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.

You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.

It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.

“What are you doing here?”

“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”

If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.

“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”

He nods a thank you.

“And you? In Prague?”

“I was at a friend.”

He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.

And then he laughs.

“I was right.”

You’re confused, he notices.

“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”

“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”

“I would have found you.”

You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.

“I didn’t believe you then.”

I barely believe you now.

He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.

“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.

“And what will you tell them?”

“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”

“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”

The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

One last look.

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.

“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”

He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break.

You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.

You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.

You get into your plane and you silently sob.

And then it’s summer.

And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.

They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.

Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.

I’ll love you for a long time.

So long for nothing.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :(

tagging: @lharrietg @awkward117 @dannaloureen @broccoligf @cutestfangirlvevo @caitdaniels @arymb @buckybarnesishot310 @roguesthetic @itsaliceheree @sara-1705 @dorothea-hwldr @freshfreakoaftrash @drinkfantasy @christinamcdonnell @partypoison00 @90ssantiago

#sebastianstan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #letyoudown #monday the movie #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Note

ok. karin vs anakin's genome being 50% the Force. go

Jesus fuck, okay. Uh, fair warning, I know very little about this subject, so it’s 90% bullshit. I am in no way qualified to talk about biology past the high school level.

Anakin's sixteen. He's part of a set of Jedi assigned to a weird mission regarding making contact with an isolated planet of near-humans with superpowers but no space travel. He doesn’t really have a Job here and now, he’s just there as Obi-Wan’s plus-one. There's an underlying plot about Sidious trying to acquire people from Ninja Land, but none of the Jedi are fully aware of it. Mostly they're distracted by all the ninjas and their bitching.

They call it the Shinobi Planet, because nobody can agree on a name for the planet when they ask and the last major international alliance was named after the shinobi profession, right? Good enough, you can change it later when you idiots can agree on literally anything, oh my god. The Samurai are very offended and it's a whole thing.

Anakin wanders a lot. He runs into various strange people and is mostly polite because, listen, half his friends are distinctly not human. When your immediate circle includes nautolans and besalisks and twi’leks and whatever the fuck Yoda is, you’re not gonna blink at a Hoshigaki or... uh... okay that kid just turned into a giant fox, is anybody gonna--no? That’s normal? Just him? Cool, cool, cool.

There’s a kage summit involved in the negotiations going on. IDK what’s being negotiated, probably something to get the ninjas to set up a singular spaceport so there’s somewhere to land WITHOUT ships being regularly shot down by village defense systems powered by that massive flaming purple skeleton warrior or the girl who punched down a mountain or the.. the literal desert? There’s a guy that can control the desert? Is there any way of keeping him away from Anakin?

(Gaara’s tickled pink that the reason someone wants to stay away from him has nothing to do with fear or respect for authority, and everything to do with ‘he is also from the desert and fucking hates it, so he’s staying away from the sand powers,’ because it’s very novel and kind of funny.)

ANYWAY where was I. Uh. Right, kage summit, lots of villages, they invite smaller villages to pitch in, but nobody ever ever ever wants Orochimaru anywhere near this situation, for hopefully obvious reasons, so Otogakure sends Karin.

Really, who else was it gonna be? Suigetsu? You want Suigetsu representing you on an interstellar political field? You want Juugo before he’s stabilized? You want Sasuke, master of ruining kage summits? You want these idiots representing you at the big kids’ table?

They send Karin. She’s a bitch with a temper, but at least she’s not as big of a political risk as... literally anyone else from the snakepit.

Anyway, Anakin wanders around, meeting people, trying foods, showing off when asked for demonstrations. He doesn’t have an Entire Protocol Droid, but he did cobble together a little floating helper that can do translations for him. Assume all translations are accurate and being done by the little helper bot. Bot’s name is G1-0T. Anakin calls it Glot.

He runs into Karin at one point, who’s not super into the whole situation, but at least Anakin’s interesting. She’s not interested in him, because he’s sixteen and she’s like... mid-twenties. And his hair is stupid. But! All these force-sensitive people feel weird to her, because sensor stuff, and it’s not chakra but it’s... something. Anakin is, of course, the weirdest.

(There are non-sensitives in the envoy, so she knows it’s not just a space thing.)

She strikes up a conversation about it, because hey, she hasn’t made it this far to not lean into... you know, being the kind of person who barges ahead with Weird Questions that might lead into fun science stuff.

Anakin is like. Well. This woman’s very strange, but it’s not like there’s anything against talking about midichlorians to random people. It’s easy enough to look up in the core. Not everyone knows about them, but it’s not a secret or anything.

“Wow,” Karin says, though not in so many words, “that sounds incredibly strange, and actually a lot like it functions completely differently from chakra, though maybe it intersects with nature chakra somehow. Can I take a blood sample?”

Anakin doesn’t want to give a blood sample to a stranger. Karin isn’t stupid enough to try to steal one. She’s seen what this Force Stuff can do, and this kid’s got a lot of it. She hasn’t got enough information on hand about it to know if he’d notice.

“How about I let you look at the blood of a guy that can turn into water?” Karin asks, because she’s not going to let him look at her blood. “I’ve got it with me.”

“...why?” Anakin asks, reasonably disturbed.

“He owes me,” she says, and does not elaborate.

“What, there’s nothing weird about your blood to share?” Anakin demands, like the ornery little bastard he is.

“People took my blood against my will for over a decade,” Karin says, with the kind of smile that threatens a stabbing. This is not secret information. Her healing factor is in the bingo book. Plenty of people still want her dead. “Nobody gets my blood except me.”

Anakin has no idea what to do with that answer. Most people wouldn’t know what to do with that answer. It’s not exactly a standard answer.

“So there is something weird about your--e chu ta what the fuck are those scars?”

Karin looks at her arm. She looks back at him. She raises an eyebrow.

“What do you think they are?”

He stares a little longer, and then very carefully does not say anything as she pushes her sleeve back down.

“So can I look at your blood?” she asks again.

“Uh--”

“You can look at mine under a microscope,” she wheedles. “You can’t take any, though.”

Anakin... does eventually agree. Eventually.

-----------

There is a very angry redhead yelling at a machine, and Anakin does not know what to do.

“Is something wr--”

“What the fuck is your blood?” she demands. “It’s glowing in ultraviolet. It burned the dye up. I tried to sequence your genome--”

“Woah, I did not agree to that.”

“--and look at this. Look at this!”

“I don’t know how to read your graphs. None of this is a language I know.”

“It’s garbage,” she hisses at him. Glot takes a few moments to process it. “Look at this. This is supposed to--fuck, where’s the Jiraiya file, he’s standard--this is what it’s supposed to look like for most humans with chakra. And this is a civilian, and a few bloodline users--”

“Do you just carry these around with you?”

“Shut up, you don’t exist. You have--you have more in common with summons than people. I ran a blood test on one of your human diplomats, the ones that aren’t monks--”

“When did they agree to that?”

“They didn’t, I’m just sneaky.”

“I should tell Obi-W--”

“STAY THERE, I’M NOT DONE YELLING YET. Do you see this? Do you see this shit? This is the one and only time I’ve managed to perform any kind of analysis on a bijuu. They don’t usually have blood. Shukaku is sand. Matatabi is literally just fire. This was almost impossible to make happen, but I did it because I’m a dedicated biomedical resea--”

“Because you’re unhinged.”

“--rcher, and you know what? You know what I’ve found?”

“What?”

“Your blood looks like you’re half demon,” she says, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking, a little wild-eyed and clearly pissed at him. “Half of it’s human! Half of it looks like the non-physical chakra manifestations that were torn-apart remnants of a godlike demon. The fuckers can’t die. They also can’t breed. They don’t have reproductive organs! This isn’t just demon-tainted like a jinchuuriki, I’ve got that analyzed--”

“Why?”

“Because my cousin’s a moron, don’t change the subject. You--you shouldn’t exist. Your blood is stupid. Fuck, is this what I’d find if I analyzed the Sage of the Six Paths?”

“The what?”

She ignores him, frowning at papers. “Is--I need to call Haruno, she might still have some of Kaguya’s blood dried on her old gloves from the war, I know she kept those as a souvenir from the whole ‘punched a god’ thing.”

“I’m sorry, the what?”

“There was a thing a few years back, godlike alien demon princess who got sealed into a moon by her sons a thousand years ago, but her immortal sentient goo child brought her back with a giant tree that consumed all the tailed beasts-the flaming fox you saw earlier is one of them--and then used a giant eyeball to reflect off the moon to put everyone in a hallucination at the same time so she could eat our life-forces,” Karin dismisses. “It’s not important.”

“There is--what?”

Jedi see many things. Many of those things are very strange.

This is a little much even for Anakin.

“It’s over, if you want the actual details, talk to my idiot cousin,” she huffs. “But now I need to run comparisons between the actual nonsense that is your entire existence and the actual nonsense that is my cousin’s existence, and maybe Sasuke’s... fuck this is going to be a mess, I’m going to have to cross-reference all the clans with bloodlines we know are derived from Kaguya, she’s the only angle we have on gods like that, unless... maybe there’s still some black Zetsu goo somewhere... Orochimaru must have kept a sample...”

“Uh, can I--can I go? I’m not comfortable here.”

“I need to find Naruto so he can call the Sage of the Six Paths out of the afterlife so I can see if I can get blood from a ghost to compare to yours.”

#Anakin Skywalker #Uzumaki Karin #Karin #Karin Uzumaki #Naruto #star wars #mini fic #Phoenix Posts #Phoenix Answers Asks #this is so stupid and I have no idea what I'm talking about #bijuu don't even have blood but Anakin's has more in common with THEM than with humans

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iguana-eyanna · 2 years

Text

The Blood Within Us Chapter 11

Summary: Will the reader do whatever it takes to protect the ones she loves when tragedy hits the Wayne family? How far will the truth be tested when she realizes she’s not the only one with secrets of her own?

Warning: smut, sex, signs of labor, braxton hicks, nudity

“I told you Dami, we’re fine. You don’t have to fly with Jon so you could check how we’re doing.” You said through the phone as you were laying on the couch.

You and Bruce just finished lunch when he called. He claimed that there were sitings of “wolves'' during this type of season and wanted to make sure nothing happened to you. Bruce smiles where he was standing, knowing all of your boys worried about you night and day.

“Look, baby… I need to go. Your father wants us to do some sight seeing on a light hike. I love you.” You concluded your message as you hung up. You turn around and face Bruce who’s smirking.

“It’s literally the fourth day and your sons are worried that I’ve been eaten by wild beasts.” You joke as you get off the couch. Bruce comes up to you with your hiking boots to help you slip them on.

“Well at least you’re getting phone calls.” He joked as he was tying your laces.

“Hey.” You lightly scolded him, making him look up at you. “You’re still their father, and they still love you.” You reminded him.

Bruce gets up and releases a sigh, giving you a soft smile.

“I know, but I think they’re more worried about you since you’re carrying special cargo.” He jokes, lightly rubbing your belly over your top.

You smile at his affection and kiss his cheek.

“C’mon, let’s head out before the sun sets. I intend to do as much as I can on this trip.” You said, already heading outside. Bruce rolls his eyes and helps you out of the patio so he could lead the way.

On the trail, you notice how beautiful your surroundings were. Bruce even found an opening where you could see the majestic site. Glad that both of you could sit on a higher rock, you snuggled closer on Bruce’s arm as a light chill crept on you both.

“So I was wondering… have you thought of any names lately? For the baby?” Bruce asks out loud, taking you by surprise.

“It’s more of what I don’t want in a name. I can’t stand those celebrities who name their kids after random things. I want our baby girl to have a name that means something to us.” You said, wrapping your arms around your belly.

You see that Bruce was wanting to say something, but he refrained from doing so.

“You have a name for her, don’t you?” You tease as you let go of him.

Bruce groans a bit, looking flushed.

“You might think it’s a bit cheesy.” He says, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Try me.” You said, crossing your arms at your chest.

Bruce murmurs something under his breath, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, what?” You ask.

Bruce lightly kicks his boot in the dirt as he’s building the courage to say the name out loud.

“Lily. It was the flower I gave you on our first date.”

For a second, you forgot how to speak.

“You don’t like it, don’t you?” Bruce says, looking a bit sad.

You shake your head. “No, Bruce… I- I thought you didn’t love me at that time.” You said as your heart clenched.

Bruce’s features changed as he realized what he said.

“My god I didn’t mean… I’m such an idiot… Let me…” He stuttered till he collected his senses and looked at you with loving eyes.

“Ever since my parents died, I forgot what love was. I buried myself seeking vengeance that I even forgot what it meant to be alive. I had to create myself into a phony persona, be Gotham’s bachelor so no one could even think of who I became at night.”

Bruce takes your hand and stares into your eyes, holding onto you like you could fade away.

“I admit that I planned our interaction together. I was supposed to collect intel. But… the more you started talking to me, the more I wanted to get to know you. Even before our date, I was a complete wreck for some reason. I never even went on a real date before and I walked in a random floral shop and got the first flower I saw. And when I gave you that flower afterwards, your eyes just… sparkled. For some reason, I wanted to keep that sparkle in your eyes as much as I could. It took me two years to realize that I loved you. I was a fool to even play you like I did. You became such an amazing mother to the boys and gave them so much love than I ever could.”

Bruce takes a pause, looking down. “I lost so much time with you, and I regret every second of staying away from this sweet girl…”

Bruce says, placing his hand on your belly as he feels a kick.

“I want to do everything in my power to regain your love, trust, and that sparkle in your eye when I gave that Lily.”

You begin to sniffle as tears start falling from your eyes.

“Have you prepared this speech just so we could name our daughter Lily?” you ask him, trying to wipe your tears. Bruce stops you and dries them himself, feeling your soft skin in his palms.

“There’s actually one last thing I wanted to ask.” He says, getting up in front of you and going down on one knee.

You begin to sob more as your right hand flies to your mouth.

“Bruce…” you muffled out.

He begins to tear up as he folds his lips inward.

“I made you wait for the longest time and regretted it so much. You don’t know how badly I want to call you my wife, for you to be Mrs. Wayne. I want to do this right this time, if you’ll have me again?” Bruce asks, opening not the ring he proposed to you the first time, but his mother’s ring you’ve seen in photos.

You get off from your seat and go closer to him, holding the side of his face.

“Even if you ask me again tomorrow and the next, I would always, always say yes.”

Bruce releases a shaky breath, but smiles widely at you. He slides the ring around your finger and stands up to kiss you with all of his strength. Both of your tears mix with each other and you finally let go to breathe.

“You hear that Lily? Your parents are getting married.” You say to your belly.

Bruce laughs at your affection, as well as joyful that you loved the name.

You then look up to him, as all you wanted to do was to have Bruce to yourself.

“Why don’t we go back to the cabin? I’m wanting to give you something too.” You said, as your eyes glinted from the sunset before you. Bruce is a bit confused, but agrees to do so. You take his hand into yours and you walk all the way back. Once you enter, you force him to sit on the couch and have him wait.

Bruce realizes what’s going on and impatiently waits as the minutes pass on. He then snaps his head as he hears the bedroom door open to reveal you in dark lingerie. It was a black lace two piece, hugging every curve on your body just perfectly, but deep down, Bruce knew he could tear that in seconds.

“Dinah gave this to me as a joke, but I could clearly see what it’s doing to you right now.” you said, seeing how Bruce’s eyes turned darker by each passing moment not touching you. With wide steps, Bruce goes up to you, taking in all of your goddesslike complexion.

“You’ll have to excuse me of what I have to do next.” Bruce said, leaving his hot breath by your ear.

“Don’t worry, I never intended to keep this any way. I know you’ll buy me more in the near future.” You tease, pulling his shirt closer to you.

He gives you a devilish grin as you keep teasing him.

“You sir, haven’t formally taken me around this cabin.” You say, licking your lips.

“I guess I just have to take you at every inch of this fine establishment.” Bruce murmurs before leaning in to kiss you as both of your arousals began to rise.

From there, he carries you to the kitchen, the bed, and even the shower where you two fucked with such passion. You both realized that your love making has been overdue and you were enjoying the feeling of being inside of each other. You’ve down any position you could comfortably do and now you were by the carpet at the fire place, where both of you were lying as Bruce fucked you from behind.

You can’t remember when he tore off your lingerie but you couldn’t care less as you reached your climax yet again. You could feel him jolt behind you as he released the 3rd time that night. His hands snake up to your swollen tits and he grabs them fully. You release a loud moan as you could feel Bruce’s hot breath at your neck.

“Something about you so full with my seed does something to me, you put me in agony and I’ll forever be on my knees to beg for your mercy.” he whispers in your ear.

Your breath becomes haggard as his perfect words made you wetter by the second. Once he takes his hands away from your tits, you intertwine your hands into his as he finishes his thrusts. You both stay there for a moment, not wanting him to pull out as you feel so close with one another.

You whimper as you feel him leave you, but he pulls you closer from behind and kisses your shoulder. You lightly chuckle to yourself, making Bruce raise his head.

“What are you laughing about?” He asks, giving you a toothy grin.

You stare up to him as you move away a few strands from his hair.

“When you pepper me with kisses after every time we make love… it always means that we’re ready for bed.”

Bruce begins to laugh also as he never realizes his actions. He then gets up and carefully scoops you in his arms to the bed like he’s down these past nights.

After he places the blanket over both of you, he stares at your tired figure as you fight the urge to sleep.

“I love you.” he whispers lightly, not wanting you to wake up, but hoping that you could hear his words.

You softly mutter the same as slumber finally overcame you. He holds you closer to him as he also welcomes sleep.

But after a few hours, he knits his eyebrows as he feels your body gone from his arms

His consciousness was somehow screaming at him to wake up. Slowly, he sits up from his figure and immediately wakes up to see you sitting on the edge of the bed breathing heavily.

Bruce gets out of his side and kneels in front of you, your eyes shut as you take a sharp breath in.

"I didn't want you to wake up." you whispered to Bruce as you sensed his presence.

His jaw locks as his hands slide to your waist, trying to figure out if you were in labor or something was wrong with the baby.

“Braxton Hicks?” Bruce asks. You nod your head yes as your hands try soothing your stomach.

“I felt the false contractions 20 minutes ago. They’ve been irregular so that’s why I didn’t want to bother you.” You say, as you’re trying to even your breathing.

Bruce frowns a bit, not wanting to deal with this alone. “You should have told me.” He says out loud.

You don’t respond as another harsh kick hits you again, making you whimper a bit. Bruce doesn’t waste time and carries you to the bathroom.

He quickly draws a bath as you sit on the closed toilet. Feeling that the temperature was alright, he guides you in the tub, making you sigh in relief

Bruce kneels by the tub and massages your back to ease the tension in your muscles. After a while, you feel the false contractions cease and you ask Bruce to lay behind you so you could lay down on his chest. He obliges as he could sense you were feeling much better once he joined you in the warm water.

“I know it’s really late, but I’ve been meaning to ask you something. It’s just… I don't know how to ask it.” you murmured, not wanting to disturb the peace.

“I told you, any time of day, I’ll answer your questions.” Bruce replies.

You take a breath in and look up to him with wide eyes.

“When did you know you could trust me?”

Silence fills the room momentarily.

“Do you remember the night I broke into your apartment?”

There was a thud in your apartment.

You woke up abruptly, thinking that a burglar broke in. You go in your closet to grab a sturdy umbrella and dial 911. You slowly got out of your room and looked out in your living space.

“Hello, please state your emergency.” the call stated plainly on the end of the call.

“I think someone is in-” your reply was cut short as you see a man leaning on your sliding window. He becomes limp and crashes onto the floor, unconscious.

“Ma’am?” the voice called out to you.

You hesitantly walk up to the body on the floor. You see that it wasn’t just a man, but the masked crusader: Batman.

His eys looked at you slowly, then closing them again as you could clearly see he was badly injured.

“I’m sorry, it was just a stray cat that came through my window.” You said as you hung up the phone.

You then kneel down to the vigilante and wrap one of his arms around your shoulder, taking him to your bed. As you turn on your lamp, you see how something clawed on his chest. You try prying off his armor as best you could so you could see how much harm was done on his body.

You stopped in your tracks when you could hear him mumbling something. You then registered what he was trying to say: your name.

You yank your hand back from his chest, startled. You know that voice… that voice that calls your name like it was a song. It was a voice that is similar to the man you’ve been dating for quite some time

Moving back from your position, you sit on a chair by the bed, hoping that the man on your bed will wake up.

You had a lot of questions that needed to be answered.

A few hours later, Bruce opened his eyes as he felt the sun. Suddenly, he felt alert as he touched his face.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t take it off.” a voice said softly as she was referring to his mask. He turns to the left and realizes it's you, sitting down while you were reading a book.

“You had a gash on your chest and I could tell your ribs were bruised. I was able to do what I could.” He slowly got up and realized his upper chest was bandaged heavily, along with his left arm. He also saw some parts of his clothing was on the edge of the bed, assuming you tried your best to clean whatever blood or dirt was on it.

“What time is it?” he said groggily as he did his best to get up. You went over him as he almost collapsed on the floor.

“It’s 7:30 in the morning, you’ve been out cold when you broke into my place.” you said, helping him sit on your bed.

He grunts softly as he sits on the soft bed, one of his hands wrapping around his chest.

“Out of all the gin joints in Gotham, Batman had to stumble into mine?” You lightly joked as you brought a chair to sit in front of him.

“Why didn’t you turn me in?” He asks himself, trying to disguise his voice.

You scoff lightly, crossing your arms. “You really think I’m that shallow of a person to do such a thing? You’ve literally done more justice for this city than anyone ever has. I can’t say that the crime rate has lowered, but you made a difference here.” You said, placing a gentle touch on his knee.

You slowly rise from your chair, looking at him as if it was your last.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, but you have two options here. One: you leave out my window and I forget I’d ever seen you. I’ll understand if you never want to see me again also.” A light tremor is detected in your voice, making the masked hero look up to your glossy eyes.

“And two?” he whispers.

“I go out to my kitchen to make us coffee, and we’ll talk when you're ready.” You say, turning around to give him the privacy he needed.

Two minutes pass and you make yourself coffee. You wipe away the tears from your face, thinking that he must have left your room. Suddenly, you hear a few footsteps shuffling to you.

You see the man limping to where the kitchen table was. But at that time, his mask was in his hand, and you got to see that beautiful face of his.

He looks up to you, so scared yet so relieved of showing his true identity.

“I’d like to have that coffee if the offer still stands.”

You give him a small smile as you reveal the two mugs in your hands. You walk up to him and sit by his side, offering the warm drink which he gradually takes.

He felt more sure of himself that you could be the one to show that he wasn’t alone in this world.

TAGLIST:

@elizamalfoyy

#batman #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x pregnant reader #bruce waye x reader #batfamily #batmom #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #dc #dc comcis #fancast #batman fancast #noah centineo #thomas elms #lucas jaye #oscar isaac #damian wayne #damian al ghul

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