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tangerinesilk · 9 months

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－ I CAN SEE YOU : TANGERINE X FEM!READER

tangerine is going on a solo mission… well, at least he thinks he is. with lemon missing by his side, he’s left with one other option that is supposed to make his job easier. unfortunately for him, you’re not the easiest to work with. stubborn, strong-minded and feisty. you’re both so alike yet nothing has made your bloods boil more than each other.

rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)

warnings ✷ (very quick) smut: fem receiving, kisses all over bodies, a needy but quick hj, p in v, dirty talk, praising, implied rough (consensual) sex / others: cursing, drinking alcohol, mention and use of guns and violence, male hurting female (?) but not between main characters, mentions of blood and wounds.

tropes ✷ enemies to lovers!!!, person a is all talk no bite + person b knows that but still pushes them, playful banter, hiding together in small spaces, fake dating (?), if one is hurt– the other goes a bit crazy, says ‘i dont care’ then cares 5 seconds later.

word count ✷ 6k!

songs that fit the vibe ✷ i can see you - taylor swift | moth to a flame - swedish house mafia + the weeknd | king of my heart - taylor swift | attention - charlie puth | nonsense - sabrina carpenter

a/n ✷ so i made a poll a months ago and this trope + pairing won! i’ve honestly been wanting to write a dave lizewski one as well and got a request idea. so.. we will see lmao. i will probably post then maybe edit later if there's still things i don't like... also, if you couldn't tell but im kind of a swiftie so i will love to write fics inspired by whole ass albums y'all.

but i hope this is what u guys expected and wanted. i actually do love writing for tangerine. just gives into my delulu thoughts. also, if you guys would like a plain pwp fic and not all of this fluff and dialogue stuffed inside, pls let me know bc i am definitely into that idea. 🫡

“You had to go and get yourself shot… then you wonder why you have to wear a bulletproof vest. Fuckin’ hell.”

Tangerine kept his voice at a hushed tone, basically talking under his breath as he strutted through the grand hall of the hotel. Golden light glossed over his figure, passing by couples who were at standing tables with their cocktails.

“Well, Thomas said-”

“Thomas didn’t say shit. Don’t get me fuckin’ started now.”

Lemon already knew Tan was in a bad mood. Another Thomas the Tank Engine factoid wasn’t a playful move right now.

“Hey, mate. Don’t get all fussy wit’ me. You’re just mad about your new partner for the night.” Lemon rolled his eyes.

“Can’t believe I can’t be held accountable of myself. I can handle it on my own but you had to call the fuckin’ princess-”

“She’s good. Your denial is obnoxious, bruv. It’s only a night, you get in and get out.” Lemon replied, holding his wounded side as he laid in his bed back in England, “What happened between you two that you’ve got beef like this?”

“No time to explain nor do I have the patience.” He arrived at the small bar to the side of the room, “If I leave her behind, can I take half the pay that’s supposed to be hers?” Tangerine asked.

“She’s supposed to be wearing a red dress. You’ll see her there… and please don’t cause a scene.” His brother begged.

“No promises.” He replied before hanging up.

Tangerine blows a sigh past his lips, quickly asking for his drink of choice before scanning the mass of people around him. His blue eyes could only search so fast for the man that the hit was called on, causing him an instant frustration when he’s already worried about you ruining things regardless of how long you’re together.

“He’s next to the woman in the tacky gold ballgown… about two feet away from the ice sculpture.” Your soft voice suddenly spoke next to him, “But, I didn’t need to tell you that, right?”

The smirk on your face burned at his nerves and you noticed the clench in his jaw.

“Well, if it isn’t the fuckin’ Queen herself.” He said in a stern tone, “What? Germany was too borin’ for ya? Had to figure out a way to ruin someone’s operation?”

“Lemon is the one who called me in, and it isn’t about you. It’s about the pay out… you’re bound to screw something up with your ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ tactic.” You trailed, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away.

“And I’m certainly not afraid to use that tonight and not your fucked up, painfully long mind games like some fuckin’ psycho thilling killer.” He spat as his drink was place in front of him.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fuck you.”

“Darling, I’m flattered, but we have more important things to do right now.” He lowly groaned, purposefully looking at his target so his back was facing toward you.

Behind his tall stature, you glimpsed past his shoulder and saw your target chatting up a woman.

He won’t be smiling for long, you thought.

“Alright, I’ll wait for him to slip away, follow him and you go through the kitchen.” Tangerine said under his breath, keeping quiet for only you to hear him.

“To go where?” You ask, walking around him to stand face to face.

“Erm…” He sighed, “Whatever car or vehicle you got here in, drive yourself back to whatever place you’re staying and I’ll figure out how to wire you the money.” He shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.

He took a step but you placed your hand on the center of his chest, “Not so fast. I’m not going down if you make a mess of this.”

“I don’t make messes. Well, actually, I get away with them once I’ve done ‘em so, I don’t need to worry about a liability.” Tangerine smirked, a bit of a tilt to his head. Cheeky bastard.

“The only liability here is the one who is ready to pull the trigger in his back.” You said before huffing, “I’m not sorry for what happened in Paris, but that was my choice. So, I’m going with you because it’s our operation. You know… I don’t need a fucking helping hand either.” You practically growled.

The two of you held a long gaze, creating a tense eye contact before he sighed, “Didn’t even say anythin’ about Paris, but if you’d like to assume I’m still mad ‘bout that, be my guest, princess.”

His shoulder bumped yours, making you clench your jaw before quickly following behind his tall stature. While he seemed persistent, you grabbed his hand which made him stop in his tracks in the middle of the dance floor.

He turned, “Am I your babysitter?”

“No, you’re my date. Hold my hand, you idiot.” Your eyes pierced through his.

As he looked down at your hand, he slowly grasped it, your fingers intertwining with one another’s before he proceeded through the glamorous crowd.

Couples swayed and waltzed between each step you took, assuming you were unnoticed by your target. Tangerine kept his eyes on him, easy to with the frosty-white full head of hair he had slicked back. The woman in the tacky dress ran her hand down his shoulder, pressing her lips to his ear to whisper something which made you and Tangerine veer to the side at a standing table.

“Are they movin’?” He asked, facing his back toward them.

Your eyes smoothly shift, taking a quick glance at the assumed couple. You ran your hand down Tangerine’s arm, accidentally feeling how toned his bicep was through the thick fabric of his suit jacket. You almost glanced down, wanting to give another squeeze before clearing your throat. A heat rose on your cheeks as you turned your head to face away from him.

“Y-Yeah, near the bathroom. There’s also a backdoor that leads up to the second floor… lots of private rooms for reasons that are obvious.” You said in a hushed tone, moving away from him to the other side of the table.

“Alright, since you wanna tag along, I’ll follow them and you cover the door.” Tangerine suggested once again.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “You do understand what teamwork is, yes?”

He chuckled, “Yes, I go up there, shoot a few rounds, then we make a getaway.”

“Will you just trust me?”

“Your trust means nothing… I need to know you’re not going to fuck anything up. Just like in Paris.”

You smirked, “So you do have that against me.”

“Well, it’s not like it was your best. Leave me with a shot in the arm, Lemon on the ground and you, little miss greed, get away with your cash. If we all did this job for money, we wouldn’t be riskin’ our lives just runnin’ around killin’ or resucin’ people just for someone’s dime. You obviously do though.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You don’t know me…”

“Nor do you know me so…” He huffed, “Let’s just do what we have to do.”

There was tension between you, as if there was more fo a protective instinct than hate toward one another. You couldn't figure out Tangerine’s deal. Why was he so hostile toward you? Yes, what happened in Paris was fucked up, but he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. He didn’t take shit from anyone, so why were you getting under his skin?

“Shit!” He grunted under his breath, seeing your target disappear into the hall.

The two of you hurry, yet still try to act casual to not raise eyebrows, and exit into the same hallway. As you push open the door, you hear the two talking in the stairwell before another door closes.

“You got your gun on you?” He asked as his hand slid into the back of his pants.

“Of course.” You scoffed, tearing up the slit in your dress. He saw the small pistol strapped to your thigh, making his mouth a bit dry.

He nodded, “Good…”

Taking a quick breath, Tangerine opened the door. You slipped through and he followed behind, your backs facing one another as you scanned the hallway. It wasn’t narrow but if anyone slipped out of one of the rooms, they were right in your sights.

“I’ll take this one, you take that one.” He whispered, pointing his gun to the opposite door of his.

With your heart in your throat, you slowly crack the door open and don’t see anyone before a body flies from behind and slammed the door open from Tangerine’s side. The woman lied dead on the floor, blood all over his dress, and just as you turned around, a punch slid across your cheek.

Instinctively, you ducked to dodge the second jab and swoop under to get on the other side of the man as Tangerine wrapped his arms around the guy to pull him to the ground.

Tan loudly grunted as he tried to gain control, basically attempting to straddle him in order to push his arm against his neck. Even with all his strength, the man gripped his hands around Tangerine’s arms to throw him off along with trying to push his knee between his crotch.

“Watch the door!” Tan directed to you.

You nodded, catching your breath with your back against the wall by the door. The adrenaline ran through your veins and heard your heartbeat in your ears as one tear of blood dripped down your cheek. The crack of bones made you turn your head, seeing the man’s body go limp as Tan began to stand over him.

He quickly walked over the man, as if he was in the way, and comes to your side.

“He nicked you bad. Lemme see.” Tan said, your eyes meeting his as he held your cheek. The touch of his hand seemed to be some comfort, his thumb wiping the blood away and trying to see how bad the wound was.

“Bastard.” He muttered, “C’mon, let’s go before someone comes up.”

Without a word in, he grabbed your hand and dragged you behind his lead. You two headed for the exit door down the other side of the hall as you heard footsteps rumble from the other stairs you came up.

“Wait a minute.” Tan said, fiddling with his belt buckle.

Your eyes widen, “What on earth are you doing?”

He smirked, “Relax, darling. You flatter yourself too much.”

You rolled your eyes as the sound of his belt slid against the fabric of his belt loops before curling the leather strap around the door to keep it locked. The two of you fled down the stairs and suddenly found yourselves in the kitchen area. A few eyes followed as you both ran through, very obvious that you were running from something, but still aimed to get to some kind of exit.

With sudden luck, Tangerine saw his car across the street, instantly knowing which way he was supposed to go. Without skipping a beat, he grabbed your hand once more and the two of you ran across the street. Hopping into the passenger seat and Tan taking off was like a blur, just happening in seconds.

“Y/N?” Tan saying your name woke you from your trance.

“Huh?” You asked, shaking your head.

He quickly turned his head, “You alright?” He said with concern, one hand on the steering wheel and his foot easing off the gas.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t know what happened back there.” You trailed, a bit embarrassed. You were never one to let your guard down, well– enough to get hit right smack in the face.

“Are you sure?”

You turned your attention to him, “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked rhetorically.

“‘Cause of that big cut on your cheek.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Alright, what’s your big plan now, Einstein? Were just going to sleep in your car and hope we don’t wake up decapitated?”

He half-chuckled, “You truly think so little of me, don’t you?”

“Is that rhetorical?”

Tan rolled his blue eyes, “We’re goin’ somewhere safe.”

– – –

You wanted to believe you were strolling into some kind of trap. The lobby had a classic aesthetic to it, pale gold wallpaper and a wall of keys behind the person at the small front desk. You two placed your go-bags on the red carpeted ground as Tangerine checked into a room.

“Hello Mr. Tangerine.”

Oh, great. He’s some guest of honor here.

“‘Ello, Colin. My usual room.”

“Is that what you say in front of all the girls?” You tilted your head, standing behind him.

He rolled his eyes, “‘Cuse her.”

The man chuckled, crinkles by his eyes, “How many nights are you staying this time?”

This time. You could scoff out loud but you didn’t want to hear the tude from him.

“Just overnight. Nothin’ too serious.”

“Well, enjoy your stay, as always.” The man nodded before Tangerine thanked him.

The two of you head toward the old elevator, watching him quickly press the up button before you stand by his side. You half chuckled, “I’ve never seen you act so kindly toward anyone, tell me, does he see you bring girls through here all the time or-”

“Has anyone ever told you to shut your pie hole?”

“Hmm, not verbally. But, those eyes of your say enough for me… you’re too predictable, sometimes, Tan.”

He gave you a lingering look as the door opened, passing him into the elevator. The two of you make your way to the fifth floor and the hall is eerily quite for a hotel full of private contractors and assassins. You had your hands behind your back then patiently waited for Tangerine to jiggle the key into the lock, opening a door to a huge room with a surprisingly wide view.

“You’d think the curtains were closed.” You muttered as he walked over, closing them anyways.

Suddenly, he stripped from his suit jacket and you couldn’t help but see how tight his button up was around his biceps and chest.

“Did you get that a size too small?” You ask as you chunk your heels into the corner.

“Well, I certainly can’t kill fuckin’ bloaks wearing baggy clothes now.”

“But, you can in a three piece suit?” You cocked your eyebrow.

He licked his lips, “As if your dress is a flexible material.” Tangerine said as he pulled his rings off, placing them on the night stand.

“I can say the same for your pants.”

Tangerine wanted to look down but didn’t give into your comment. You place your bag down on the bed, grabbing your silk pajamas nearly folded on top and changed in the bathroom.

“God, just go to bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” You somewhat groaned.

You sit on the top of the bed, unfolding the duvet before shoving it off to get underneath them.

Tangerine paused, “What the fuck do you you’re doin’?”

You furrowed your eyebrow, “This thing called going to sleep. Try it sometime, you’d be less grouchy.”

He rolled his eyes, “I know that, smartass, I mean what’re you doin’ in the bed that I’m goin’ to be sleepin’ in too?”

You rolled over, putting your weight on your elbows, “I know you’re dramatic but this takes the cake for top performances.”

He faked a laugh, “If you don’t get your ass out of that bed in two seconds, I’ll throw you in the tub with a pillow.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to. Fine, do it.” You said before laying flat into the mattress, staring straight at the ceiling.

He didn’t care for your equal amount of sarcasm, but he just gave you a cocked eyebrow.

“Okay, fine. I’d rather sleep on the floor anyways.” He said, stretching his arms up and behind his head. Your eyes quickly admired his muscles before turning back.

“Be my guest, princess.” You scoffed, slipping on your pajama shorts, “I’ll enjoy my big comfy bed.”

You pulled the heavy duvet over your waist, curling up with the dense pillow beneath your head.

Tangerine stood there, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched you roll on your side. He tilted his head back before unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it on the desk chair. Although your eyes were closed, his side of the bed sunk in and you tried to hold back your smile at his faded stubbornness.

With your backs facing one another, you two just listened to the silence of the city. It gave you a moment to think of Paris– the last time you were with one another or much rather supposed to be against each other. You were a double agent, not exactly proud of it but you let greed take over your motivated justice.

Having to scam Lemon and Tangerine wasn’t your finest hour either, you thought about it for months and finally coming face to face with Tangerine (out of the two, he wasn’t the one you would want to bump into again), all the guilt came rushing back like the snap of an elastic band.

– – –

The morning sun runs through the thin silk of the curtains, shining over your bodies in the bed. You wake up to the sound of light snoring, happy that you could sleep through it, and Tangerine in a deep slumber with his arm over the bed. He suddenly looked like innocence, so soft and tender, simply laying there like it was any other day.

You sit up, putting your hair out of your face then head to the bathroom. When you turn the light on, you’re almost surprised to see your reflection. Forgetting about the scar against your cheek, you look more rough around the edges. You sigh as you run your fingers over it, remembering the way Tangerine did last night.

After washing up, you go back out and Tangerine is now standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Your eyes quickly shift up his body, admiring the tattoos in their random places and how the band of his briefs rest on his hips. You sealed your lips from smiling at how sharp his v-line was accompanied by the happy trail disappearing into his pants.

“Sleep good with that stick in your ass?” You retort, passing him.

He rolled his eyes, “...You’re annoying, ya know that?”

“Oh, you’ve made that clear.” You mocked him as you closed the curtains more, “That’s why I love to do it.”

Tangerine flicked on the lamp, giving the room a warm glow.

“Alright, I say we lay low today. Better to be out of sight and–”

You cut him off, “Stuck in this room together?... are you trying to kill me t–”

He then put his hand over your mouth, looking deep into your eyes, “Yes, stuck in this room where we can keep an eye on each other and you can’t screw me over again.”

Your heart stopped for a split second, as if he couldn’t have been more of the controlling one. He took his hand away and you gulped, “Yep. Fine. Fair.”

Tangerine pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek before you go to your bag in the chair that’s pushed in the corner of the room. You slightly bend over to look inside your duffle and his icy eyes can’t help but look up the back of your thighs and straight at your ass and lower back. How he could easily put his hands on your hips and make you hold onto something.

He shook his head, feeling like he was coming down with something to even imagine that thought.

You pulled out an old novel and sat yourself back on the bed, hoping that the hours would pass as you sank further into the broken-in mattress.

Tangerine sat down in the chair nudged into the corner, adjacent from your view, and he pulled out his gun that was conveniently tucked into the back of his pants.

“Are you actually holding me hostage?” You furrowed your brows, but didn’t take your eyes from your sentence.

“Whatever fantasy you’d like you believe.” He trailed, opening his gun and emptying his rounds into his palm.

– – –

Suddenly, you leaped out of a deep sleep. Your book laid open on your stomach while an extra pillow was between your legs. Your eyes fluttered open, thinking the past few days has been a dream, until you noticed Tangerine wasn’t sitting in the chair. You quickly looked around before hearing the bathroom door open and he stepped out, shirtless and in new dark slacks that rested on his hips.

Your mouth became dry. How could you dislike him so much yet here you are, ready to jump his bones as he crossed the room.

“What are you getting dressed for?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

He half-chuckled at your groggy voice, “I want a drink.”

“Oh, like you’re not just going to abandon me here like I did you?... Where you go, I go.” You warned him.

He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“A bit hypocritical coming from you.”

Tangerine just ignored your smart comment and opened the door, letting you through first before he followed. His eyes, once again, trace your lower back and trailed down your legs. His cheeks flushed pink as he quickly looked away, clearing his throat as he caught up to you so you two were walking side by side.

You pushed the faded down button as you pushed a big breath past your lips. Tangerine put his back against the wall and crossed his arms, his muscles basically restraining in his light button up. As you turned around, you rolled your eyes– but not at him, just at yourself. How could you have any little feeling for someone who also annoyed you to your core?

He took your silence as a bit of a tease. To be fair, you two didn’t really know one another. You met once before and then you simply betrayed him. Quickly, you were dead to him, but now you’re forced to be together and it raised an important question to himself too. Why was he helping someone who obviously can’t be trusted?

Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at that thought, knowing he would have thrown you to the wolves last night after you closed your eyes. He played with his watch a bit before the elevator dinged and caught both of your attentions.

After entering, the low-sounding shifting mechanics of the elevator were the only sounds between you two. You heard Tangerine sniffle, seeing him stretch his neck out of the corner of your eye, but you kept a straight view to the doors. While Tangerine thought you were continuing to give him the silent treatment, you were lost in your own thoughts of the past.

You flashbacked to your last night in Paris together, and remembered how the guilt creeped up on you knowing that, in a few hours, you’d have to betray both Lemon and Tangerine. Before knowing them, you didn’t care, but now that you’ve realized how hard you were falling for Tan, it felt like a double edged sword. If you didn’t do it, maybe you could stay with him– have a life together. But, if you went through with your selfish heist, you’d lose the guy who made you comfortable with being vulnerable after a long time.

Obviously, you regretted your decision.

“Is this what you want?” You simply asked.

Tangerine quickly turned his head, “What?”

You rolled your eyes before facing his direction, “This.” You gestured between the two of you, “The weird animosity and constantly arguing and nit-picking?”

He never thought you’d be so bold to point it out, “I mean, we don’t like each other. Simple, isn’t it?”

“I guess…” You trailed, facing back toward the doors.

Tangerine licked his lips, wondering if he should utter the words on his tongue.

“...But, that doesn’t mean we can’t start over.”

You looked over your shoulder once more before turning around to him, “You mean that?”

He arched his eyebrow, “Should I regret it now?”

Just as the elevator dinged, the doors slowly opened and the hotel lobby appeared empty. You smirked to yourself, “Why don’t we catch up over that drink, huh?” You sort of teased– not sure if it had purpose.

– – –

Your drink tasted smooth, easily trailing down your throat as you leaned your head back to finish off the rest of the liquor in your glass. Once you tilted your head back straight, you were met with Tangerine’s signature eyebrow arch.

“Don’t worry, I’m paying for my own drinks.” You sighed, placing your glass back down on the wooden table top.

“As long as I don’t got to carry you back up to the room.” He sighed, sounding more defeated than witty, then his blue eyes glanced down then back into your eyes.

You hummed, running your finger along the rim of the empty glass.

“‘right so, what’ve you been doin’ since we last…” He cleared his throat, “saw one other?”

You crossed your leg over the other, “Not much. Actually, it’s the first time I’ve been out for a while. After leaving you guys, I laid low in Tuscany.”

“For how long?”

You shrugged, “Five months? I was on the countryside and I wanted to be alone…” then, you smirked, “I heard that you were in Kyoto.”

Tangerine could chuckle about it now, “For a bit. Had a job to do for some psychotic, fucked up family. The dad called in us, they were all turin’ on each other. Whole fuckin’ thing…”

“As in…” You trailed, “Against one another? The whole family?”

He just nodded before taking a sip of his drink.

You raised your eyebrows, “Wow… and you got out with no bruises or cuts? Bullet holes?”

Tangerine licked his lips before he presented the side of his neck, lighter skin over his tanner tone to show the scar. You carefully reached out, brushing your fingers against it which made a tingle go up his spine. You sit back down as he turned back in his chair, and he seemed to tense up.

“Amazing you survived it.” You sealed your lips.

He crossed his arms, “I supposed…”

A comfortable silent fell between you, the light, jazz music playing at a low, and Tangerine’s eyes trailed up the side of your bare leg. He didn’t mean to stare this much, but he felt more vulnerable than usual. One thing you knew is that Tangerine was a layered person, you had to take time to get to the center of him and realize he’s not so cold once you get to know him.

“Five months in Tuscany, I bet that was lovely.”

“Not really. I isolated the whole time… I wanted to be by myself, but I felt bad about what happened… what I did in Paris.” You admitted, but didn’t look into his eyes, fearing that he would turn on you in a second.

Tangerine sighed, “You had to do your job, we did ours… that’s ‘bout all that can be said.”

Assuming from the lack of eye contact and his tone, he seemed hurt too. You could easily let it boost your ego, but, you actually felt a relief. This hatred you’ve held against each other has finally come down and even though it wasn’t actually said, both of you can feel hostility leave the room.

You bit the inside of your cheek, “Remember, we’re starting over. Clean slate. I hope I’m making a good impression so far.” You raised your eyebrows, lifting your glass again just to drink the mixture of watered down liquor.

He chuckled, “You’re just lovely.”

The comment made your face get hot. You blame the accent and how it can just get under your skin.

“I don’t think you’ve ever called me something so nice.”

Tangerine smirked, “Funny since we’ve just met, darling.”

Darling.

It was the first time you heard it as a term of endearment then pure spite.

You rolled your eyes, but you could humor that Tangerine was going along with it. This new cheeky side of him was something you didn’t think existed– maybe it was the liquor talking, but you hoped it wasn’t just that simple.

“So, what brings you here?” You continued to tease, placing your elbows on the table, “Business… or pleasure?” Your hand laid on top of his, brushing your fingertips along the chunky rings that perfectly fit his fingers.

Multiples thoughts sounded through both your minds.

“Maybe it’s the liquor.” “Maybe we’re a little over our heads.” “Maybe we’re bored.”

But, Tangerine held your hand on top of the table, gently holding it as his thumb grazes over your knuckles.

“Depends…” He trailed, now leaning in too, “What are you here for?”

– – –

In just a few minutes, you two were back in the room you felt trapped in for hours.

Tangerine pressed your back against the wall, a tingle running up your spine from the coolness of the wallpaper. Your lips pressed together over and over, tilting your head before biting his bottom lip. He effortlessly lifted you up with his hand under the back of your thighs, and your ankles meet around his back.

He needed so bad, desperate even… and the feeling was mutual.

He put you down on your feet again, pressing a kiss against your scarred cheek then another on your jaw. His light kisses run down the middle of your breasts as his hand lifted up the end of your skirt. You pushed your hips out as your back was against the wall still, watching him pull down your panties in an instant. You kick them to the side and Tangerine placed your leg over his shoulder, kisses along your inner thigh and your hand ran through the front of his curls.

Suddenly, his tongue ran over your swollen clit before sucking on it. With one hand in his hair, the other caressing your breast and running your thumb over your nipple.

Tangerine panted, moving his hand against your pussy lips. He pushed them apart, showing your tight hole and how you clench around nothing. He lowly groaned, running his fingers over your clit before sliding his two fingers into your pussy. You bite your bottom lip to hold back the moan stuck in your throat, watching him suck your clit and finger you at the same time.

Just as your climax neared, he felt your cunt tighten around his fingers. He couldn’t end it like this so, he took them away. You let your leg down, watching him come back up and tower over you.

“If I’m goin’ to make you cum…” He sighed, “I’m gonna be deep inside you when you fucking crumble.” He said so low before pressing his fingers against your tongue, and you tasted yourself.

You pulled his hand back, running your thumbs over his tattooed hand.

“Not if I make you cum first.” You trailed, moving his hand down so you could kiss him.

He could drop to his knees in an instant, but Tangerine surprisingly kept his composure.

You smirked as you pushed him toward the bed, the back of his knees hitting it to make him sit down. As you stood in front of him, he leaned on his elbows as he watched your dress drop to the floor. It pooled at your ankles and when his eyes shifted back up, so glossed over, your bare body was the center of his attention.

“Hmm, I don’t think you’ll last.” You taunted.

As much as he could snap back, you straddled him and pulled apart his tightly buttoned shirt. Your hands ran over his toned and tatted chest before reaching down to his pants, unzipping the fly and he shuffled a bit to shift them off his hips. His cock was hard, restrained from his boxers and you felt flattered.

You giggled, leaning forward to share a slow kiss with him. Your bare pussy rubbed against his cock as you moved closer to him. A low groan mumbled between your makeout, and you pushed him back so you two both fell on the bed.

Your hands pressed into each side of the mattress, gaining strength to help yourself grind against his hard. His big hands tightly held your hips as you continued your smooth momentum, whimpering at your clit being rubbed by your harsh grind.

As heat rose in the room, your right hand dipped between the two of you, and ran over his hard cock once more. Tan’s lips now desperately met your jaw before taking a light bite at your neck. The feeling of your hand caressing through his boxers could make him release right there.

Becoming more impatient, you finally pushed your hand into the band of his boxers and he once more moved his hips to shift out of them.

“Fuck, your cock is so big… can barely hold it with my hand. God, I want you to stretch me out…” You moaned, “Is that okay?”

You purposefully let him believe that he was in charge, and you were falling into the submissive role. Tangerine gained a bit of confidence from your desperate comments, and he sat more up on the bed.

“Fucking christ…” Is all he could say.

He moved the swollen and red tip against your wet slit, also aching and needing your walls to wrap around him now. At first there was pressure, pushing the tip inside your hole then slowly guiding your hips down to completely take in every inch of his cock.

Once he bottomed out, your body lightly shook as your lips brushed against his. He was fully inside you, the tight and warm feeling making him wither beneath you.

Tangerine moved his hand, kissing your shoulder, “God, you feel like fuckin’ heaven.”

“Don’t stop. Please…” You huffed.

– – –

Then, it was morning.

The rising sun peaked through the small split of the curtains. As you tried to shift, your body ached throughout every muscle. A small groan left your lips, but you were pulled back by a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

It snapped you back into reality. Last night really happened… and you were okay with that.

Tangerine’s tattooed arm unconsciously tightened around you, holding you close still as he still slept behind you. You barely look over your shoulder and saw his face, his eyes still shut and his curls looked wild.

You faintly smile as you turn around to face him, and that’s what woke him up. He pulled his arms back and rubbed his eyes from the brightness of the sun coming in. You run your finger along a curl on his forehead, pushing it to the top of his head and your heart melted from the sight of those blue eyes.

“Did last night really happen?” You mumbled, but with a faint smile on your lips.

He placed his hand gently on your cheek, caressing his thumb against your jaw.

“I think the real question is…” He trailed, “Do we stay another night or go back to pretending to not know each other's existences?”

You bit your bottom lip, lightly giggling, “I think we pick secret option three and go somewhere else. Get away for a while… see where this is going. Don’t you?”

Just at that moment, Tangerine’s phone vibrated in his pants that were on the floor next to the bed. He turned over on his other side, reaching down to pull it out and reading a text Lemon just sent.

“Got a call about a job in Budapest. Are you in or overstaying your weekend?”

Tangerine smirked at himself, then felt your lips press against his neck. You placed another kiss on his shoulder, leaving a tender love bite before he turned back around to kiss you. Maybe it was the natural thrill of the chase, but you loved the not knowing.

Whatever was next, you could only hope that he kept it interesting.

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine fic

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kkelouise · 1 year

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second choice [xiao x reader]

slightly angst (wanted it to be really sad to the point it would make it cry but failed miserably so why not add slight) MODERN AU!!!

THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING A FIC PLS FORGIVE ME FOR SOME MISTAKE I'LL MAKE😢😢

a duo very popular in the campus, of course, it's none other than the ever so grumpy cat and the person that can replace the sun. one would ask, how can two polar opposites be friends with each other? not just friends, but best friends to be exact. the reason behind this mystery wasn't that surprising, they were just neighbors and as usual, (name) doesn't let any opportunity to befriend him slide.

it took a few months for him to finally open up to them, almost everyone that knew their friendship admired (names) dedication. one day, a very weird occasion happened, it was so rare that if you told somebody it they would've thought you were lying. it was none other than xiao and... another person. they were so.. happy and carefree.

(name) can't help but to have mixed signals. sure they were happy that xiao finally found someone else he can be with, but rather than feeling quite supportive, jealousy only rose. unhelpful thoughts only filled their head. "how did she get so close to him in just a span of few days?", "how can he smile so wide with her but I've never seen him like that at all?", and so on. it's been a year since they've realized their feelings for him, it was actually time for them to confess eventually, but the butterflies supposed to be felt was only left with utter despair and emptiness after hearing the news.

that said news is no other than xiao and his... friend was now his first ever girlfriend. "i was supposed to be his first. why is it her. if I actually planned to confess earlier would've I be in that spot?" (name) can't help but to miss school for a few days taking time to process the information, just as they were ready to finally ready to confess their feelings from before, opening their phone to message xiao, a post from a certain short green haired guy popped up in the notification bar. it was rare because he barely posted anything at all, not like he has something to post anyway.

but there stood two people, kissing while the sun sets finally entering the night sky.

there it goes, the chance flying away from their grasps. ah.. if they would confess right now it would really ruin the moment right..? forget trying to talk, it would be better to just lay an distance away from xiao to atleast move on.

alas, without any warnings (name) decided to move to another country for atleast a few years just to forget.

xiao didn't even notice their best friend slipping away from his life. he only noticed it after you haven't replied to his chats, weird. dont you usually reply so fast? so he figured you were just busy doing other things. days without replying turned into weeks. where did you go?

after some time, xiao's girlfriend broke up with him saying she doesn't want him anymore and found a better person. heartbroken, he runs into your rented space hoping you'd welcome him with open arms and comfort him. but the only thing that greets him is an emptied place. what happened? did he perhaps get the room number wrong? knowing he didn't, he panics and hastily tries to talk to the landlord where you had gone, you moved. you didn't even try to tell him. why didn't you tell him? who's going to be with him now that you're gone? so many events that he can't handle at all piling on top of another, his head is in an absolute mess.

knowing what happened to xiao, you couldn't help but not care at all. after all, he only ever came looking for you when his girlfriend was gone. you were just nothing but a second choice in his eyes that will always welcome him when he needs you.

but now, times have changed and he knows he'll never feel your presence again, inhaling ever so sharply trying to guess what will happen to him in the future. yellow eyes darting to the floor, tears spilling uncontrollably. oh what will he do without you now?

#xiao x reader #xiao angst #angst genshin #genshin angst #genshin x reader #adeptus xiao #angst

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dramallamas · 3 months

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The (unserious) notes of Beyond Evil, Episode 2!

Previous Episode || Next Episode

bro this body really dragged everyone out there. all our side characters are here.

"there's mud everywhere" my guy youre in a field what do you expect

"could it be a pervert obsessed with feet?" that doesnt narrow down the list that much in this day and age...

Lee Dongsik was sexy in his 20s 30s and 40s not every man can pull that off. Lee Dongsik the man you are

oh and he's here too (Juwon)

Dongsik is also a little shit and i love him for that.

“Do you like me that much?” Houston I’m deceased.

HE DIDNT SAY NO

Man we get flirting in Episode Two damn we get fed well as a community.

“Isnt she your sister, Lee Yuyeon?” LIARRRR

“The recording room isn’t your bedroom.” As in both of theirs? Because I have read the fics 👀

How warm is the recording room is my question. Because if its like my bedroom then shits freezing

I have said this once and will say it again lee Dongsik is a sexy mf

“I got lured?” Juwons face pls he is so confused.

THE SCORE AND SOUNDS GOD PROPS TO THE MUSIC PPL

Juwons disgust is so amusing.

Bro it must suck to be talked about when you are right here.

Part of me is curious as to how Dongsik went from Lee Dohyun Dongsik to Shin Hakyun Dongsik. Like we get hints in flashbacks but not much more.

We act like Juwon had this sudden shift in how he reacts to Dongsik after his Busan trip but it was there the whole time just a lot more subtle.

Juwon looking at dirt is me looking at Jinmuk. Fricken gross.

“Touch it (my phone) again and your fingers will…” shit man

Also unpopular opinion incoming: not the biggest fan of minjeong. Shes tragic and interesting enough but she is also the type of person I would avoid being friends with

We dont give Jeongje enough credit for him standing up to his mother passive aggressively.

THE FIRST RAIN SCENE ITS HERE

All good things happen in the rain in this show and I stand by that.

This one melts my heart (and Juwon’s too)

He just stares at Dongsik smiling… perhaps he cant be all that bad hey Juwon.

HAN KIHWAN GTF OUT OF HERE

Also juwon can I have that jumper pls? At least tell me where u got it (that blue one he wore with the stripes on his arm).

Juwon in casual clothing is smth we dont see enough of especially at the start of the show

Juwon proving he is just as insane as Dongsik in this scene but also just as driven about solving what really happened. Two sides of the same coin.

Also we do not give the camera ppl enough credit either the way they shoot the scenes is incredible and rlly captures both the character and their thoughts/feelings as well as their situation and vibes of the scene.

“I don’t like solving riddles” juwon aint that ur job…?

Tiny hc: jeongje learnt some english words and slips them into his conversations to add fuel to his lie of ‘studying in america’

“There isnt a single cop in the country wjk would prioritise such a case.” Jeongje says to Juwon, who is prioritising such a case.

Juwon nearly losing his cool is so interesting and important to me.

Juwon doesnt fuck with people telling him to stay quiet thats for sure.

Ok so Dongsiks mum sees Dongsiks dad frozen to death and calls him 동식(이?) 아버지 (Dongsiks dad). like imagine u mother calls ur dad "(your name)'s dad!" is this a thing in korea or a script choice?

Tfw you hear the tragic backstory of ur suspect/future bf

part of me thinks dongsiks limp/leg injury might be psychosomatic, at least a little bit.

jihwas contact name for dongsik being 똥식 is so funny. (동 is how its supposed to be 똥, pronounced only slightly differently means shit/poop)

Underrated friendship Jaeyi and Jihoon moment.

God I hate clubs sm (I have been and ended up stressed depressed and just on the verge of tears by the end of it and I was dead sober)

Dongsik is in protective dad mode and he stands for womens rights (and probably womens wrongs) and i love that.

I am aware that this episode 2 notes is mostly just me loving Dongsik.

Everyone beind done with minjeon is also me.

"Dongsik I wasnt cheating on you..." girl youre giving Juwon the wrong ideas. also dongsik would deserve better than you anyway

Juwon rn "this girl is insane... idk what i expected because this is manyang but she rlly is and I am not dealing with it"

Juwon not being a physical touch person and valuing personal space a lot and Dongsik being an exception is everything to me.

also underrated duo moment of Juwon and Jihoon

Honestly Juwon Jaeyi Jihoon friendship trio should be a thing in fics

Actually Dongsik isnt that much shorter than Juwon... huh...

The shot where they are both looking down... I should use that as my laptop wallpaper tbh

Minjeongs death sequence gives me the chills every time.

Them talking about the death body and Jinmuk being in the shade in the background with Jaeyi... means smth but im not smart enough yet.

Dongsiks case wall for Yuyeon in his basement genuinely makes me cry knowing the truth about it

'hey bitch 😏' is the energy we have rn

Bro cannot control his emotions well around Dongsik

“Let me give you a thorough tour of our jurisdiction” is Dongsik code for, ‘follow me I need to show you something’

I remember this scene being the netflix preview (the one where juwon states that he wants to move to manyang) for beyond evil and I remember thinking… what a shit scene to preview to convince ppl to watch the show. However… I think otherwise because…

“Just what about me interests you so much? I don’t think it’s that I’m a cop. Perhaps that I’m a suspect?”

“Let me ask you. Just what about me interests you so much? You obviously seem to be dying to know what I was up to at Foreign Affairs.”

THAT PART IS CONVINCING ASF HELLO

And then… pain.

Juwon hesitating and genuinely looking torn deciding what to do. Does he call it in or… what? Comfort Dongsik? Probably considered how he reacts upon hearing Dongsik start to cry before realising why. His entire face screams “I’m so sorry…”

And Dongsik oh my god. Even though we know he put them there I think this is the first time he properly grieved it, even if only a little.

He probably did it to bust the case back open again so he and the vicitims can get justice.

And fin. See you next ep!

#beyond evil #jwds #괴물 #kdrama #jtbc beyond evil #han juwon #lee dongsik

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homo-rashi · 5 months

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I accidentally figured out my sexuality from writing a character in a fanfic...

Coming out post?

also i neeeeed advice ;-;

A character in my fic Summer Camp named Jean was supposed to just be a small, side character who helped move along the plot of my main two characters, but it didn't go as planned.

Jean became too easy to write. He became me. His quirks became my quirks...So when I was writing him and suddenly I realize I accidentally wrote him as Asexual, It was a weird feeling.

because everything about this character felt like it was a mirror image of me, except I'm not asexual...Or am I?

yeah. I am. lol

I didn't realize it for a long time, or more so, I didn't except it was a real thing that I could be. But everything looking back is so obvious.

I wrote an Asexual self-insert character without realizing it was Asexual

I like the idea of a relationship, but I have no want to have sex, or touch anyones genitals, or even see them for that matter.

all my friendships have felt like relationships to me, because well, there is not difference between a very touchy-feely friend and a romantic partner to me, in terms of physical contact.

KINK RELATED my one fetish is Omorashi. I like it because I can imagine how the other person in feeling because well, i've held in my pee before. I like how I can see the sexual thing happen (wetting) while they are fully clothed (no genitals) KINK END

I don't like smut, or if I do, it has to be done in a very particular way.

(anyone who is Ace and can help me pls my ask box is open i'm still very confused)

Some things i'm still iffy about is:

I like to masturbate. I think its fun, I like the way it feels, but Ive never watched porn (where people are having sex) I only can do it when reading fic or wetting videos.

I'm gay. Ive always identified as being gay. I dont want to date women, I only like men...but all gay men i meat in my country are very horney...

Am I Asexual and homo-romantic? or can I be an Asexual gay man? (the character i wrote is a femboy and yes I am that as well but thats got nothing to do with my sexuality or gender)

how do I figure out if i'm Aro as well? I feel like...I could be?

I like the idea of romance (like in TV) but I also find when I try to find a partner, it just feels weird...I HAVE fully loved someone before and could have seen myself marrying them but, never have i ever felt anything sexual or romantic towards someone since.

#asexual #coming out #lbgtq #ace #aroace #aromantic

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dirtyeddietini · 2 years

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wish you were sober (E.M. x Female Reader)

okay so I had this idea. I was very much in a Conan Gray slump for the past month, and I’m so in love with the ‘’Wish you were sober’’ and ‘’Disaster” songs. And idk if it’s just me? But I feel like they kinda go together? So I thought why not make an Eddie Munson fic based on them (Bc holy shit this dude has done something to me). So the “Wish you were sober” lyrics are kind of the Reader’s POV and “Disaster” is in Eddie’s POV? I hope it makes sense. Also pls be kind, english is very much not my first language and I haven’t written anything since my One Directions days (Which, those days are still not over let me tell you that). Also I hate dialogue?? So minimal dialogue for this one idk?? I’m thinking of making this into a series if people like it enough?? Like with a big time jump idk? I have a lot of ideas. But yeah, hope you enjoy ♡

warnings: alcohol, weed, two fools in love, very much angst??, not very happy ending, implied smut?? like mentions of it idk if heavy makeouts are smut??, unrequited love or so they think??, swearing, use of (y/n), idk if i missed any pls do tell me if i did, also me being an american but havent been there since i was born so i dont really know how america works so if anything is weird again pls do tell me, also idk when to fit this in the timeline of stranger things?? nobody really mentions vecna and everybody is happy and eddie is alive (if i go on with this series then this is fit like in their last year of high school i guess?? we’ll see)

I do not consent to my work being uploaded on any other platforms, translated or copied.

summary: You and Eddie Munson have a not so formal agreement. At the end of the night of every party, when alcohol doesn’t really do anything for any of you anymore - You switch it out for each other’s lips. But what happens when you’re a little bit greedy, and still want even more?

Word count: 3795

It was the first big party of the fall. The Halloween party, nonetheless. Pre-Eddie entering your life, Halloween was the only party you ever went to all year. Post-Eddie it was any and every party you could find, at least the ones you knew would be attended by the pretty, long haired boy. Sometimes you liked to imagine he felt the same. “this party’s shit, wish we could dip. could anywhere but here.”

‘’So, what are you supposed to be dressed as?’’ You drank the rest of your drink before hopping off the counter, giving Steve a twirl and showing off your very homemade witch costume. You’d have actually prefered to sit down, plan out your whole costume and find every piece so it would have looked perfect for the night. But between classes, your job and finding a very limited time to see family and friends, the season changing from summer into autumn hadn’t occurred to you. So here you were, in a little black dress with a witch hat you had bought for your first ever real Halloween party a couple of years back and some old jewelry sown lazily onto your dress. ‘’Well Steve Harrington, I am the wicked witch of Hawkins. Can’t you tell?’’ You said with a bow. Steve just chuckled and filled up his glass with cheap looking liqueur.

“nineteen, but you act twentyfive now. knees weak, but you talk really fly, wow.” ‘’He’s here, you know?’’ Steve asked while throwing a ping pong ball that landed perfectly in your beer. You just shrugged while you downed the beer, trying to look clueless as to what he was saying ‘’He asked about you when he arrived,’’ Steve continued while you tried aiming for just one of the 5 still perfectly lined up glasses in front of him, but missing yet again. You didn’t actually know how Steve persuaded you to play beer pong, knowing how bad you were. Maybe some liquid courage for the night ahead?

“ripped jeans and a cup that you just downed, take me where the music ain’t too loud.”

You didn’t know when or how you ended up on the sofa, surrounded by Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan. Also it just didn’t really matter at this point, your only point of focus being Eddie, dressed as the devil (no surprise there, right?) talking to that pretty blonde. You know the kind of pretty blonde that actually had planned her costume. The one who actually took her friends out, found a costume (a whole costume, not just a random, forgotten dress on the floor of her closet). The kind of blonde Eddie would be proud to show around in town, not someone who only got to taste his lips when he had one too many beers. ‘’Earth to (Y/N)?’’ Jonathan said, waving his hand in front of your face. Steve looked at you with pity in his eyes, being the only one actually knowing who occupied your mind. ‘’Mmm?’’ You said, still looking at the scene in front of you, afraid that you might miss something if you looked away, even for a second. ‘’So, truth or dare? What is it going to be?’’ Robin laughed. You weren’t entirely sure you had ever agreed to the game, alcohol clouding your thoughts, but you had nothing else to do, right? ‘’I guess.. Dare?’’ You said with a sheepish smile, regretting it only mere seconds later. Not only because you were now sitting comfortably on the sofa, squished between Nancy and the coushions, kinda acting like a weighted blanket. Not only because Robin wore a devilish smile while she whispered something in Steve’s ear. No, also because your friends had seen you literally kill the pretty blonde in front of Eddie, with your eyes and that gave Robin a very good idea.

“save me ‘til the party is over. kiss me in the seat of your Rover. real sweet but i wish you were sober.”

It was the first Halloween you attended with the intent of actually partying. The other years where Steve had thrown his big Halloween parties and invited you, you were always sitting on the sofa, soda in hand while being the designated driver. You didn’t mind, alcohol or parties weren’t your thing up until that day (You know the day every teen gets? When they realize that life is just rushing by and they won’t have any fun stories to tell before they’re out of high school? Or was that just you?) Nevertheless, here you were at your first real (well, first real for you) Halloween party. The drinks were flowing (That was also the night you realized you were very much a light weight) Bodies dancing everywhere. You just needed a second for yourself, just to sit on the toilet to gather yourself. ‘’Hoooly shit, I’m drunk’’ You giggled to yourself. You stood up, ready to wash your hands but got a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. ‘’I looked so pretty when I got here, and now look at me’’ You pouted at yourself in the mirror. ‘’Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was in here’’ A voice said behind you, but you were all too occupied with your mascara to care ‘’No no, it’s fine. Come in. I don’t mind’’ You hiccuped, trying very hard not to poke your eye out with your mascara wand. ‘’I’m not really sure we’re that close yet, that I would feel comfortable using the toilet in front of you, pretty girl’’ You could see Eddie Munson coming up behind your back in the mirror. It was not that you didn’t know Eddie, your friends were his friends. It was just that he once let it slip to Steve that you were oh so hot, but how he wished you weren’t so boring. He wasn’t wrong, about the last part anyway. But there was one thing you and Eddie had in common, you just didn’t really care what others thought. So even though you had found Eddie pretty, fucking attractive, it didn’t stick with you that he thought you were boring. ‘’A penny for your thoughts?’’ He asked behind you. Guess you had a habit of zoning out a little bit too much. ‘’I’ll get out of your way, sorry.’’ You said, trying to grab the handle, but falling over your own heels. Eddie was quick to grab you, sit you on the toilet, pour out his beer from his cup and hand you the glass back with water.

And that's how the ‘’tradition’’ started. Nothing major happened that night. You were too drunk, and Eddie was a gentleman. You just sat in his van, talked about life, got a much needed (also a little bit too late) apology for his comment to Steve. Ever since then, the parties always ended up in his van. It didn’t take long until the passenger seat got abandoned for Eddie’s lap and curfew got dragged longer and longer into the night. But that was all that it was. Stolen glances at parties, long makeout sessions leading to always just a little bit more. And at first, that was fine. You weren’t really looking for anything other than a little attention. But as you got to know Eddie more, nothing was enough. Eddie, who had started carrying around a blanket in the van, just so you could snuggle under it when you got a bit too drunk and just wanted to talk. Eddie, who remembered that your favorite smell was vanilla (Also it was hard for him to forget, you basically bathed in your vanilla perfume every time you went to a party because one time, he said that you smelled really good) went out and bought a Wunderbaum so his car would smell like vanilla for you. Eddie, whose lips were just a little too soft to forget.

Anyway, that was only in the confinement of his van. At school things didn’t change, sure he would smile at you a little more, talk to you a little longer but until that alcohol hit Eddie’s lips, you felt like you didn’t really matter in his world.

“pullin me close, begging me, ‘’stay over’’, but i’m over this roller coaster.”

‘’I dare you, to steal away.. One Mr. Eddie Munson’’ Robin said, with a proud smirk. You looked at Steve, hoping he would help, but all he could do was shrug ‘’Those are the rules, girly’’. Sure Eddie would go with you, having downed about 10 beers and had 2 joints.. Or at least you hoped so. But as you looked over, once again, the pretty blonde had her arms around his waist and Eddie was biting his lips looking down at her. You looked at Robin, one more time, hoping she would give you another dare, but she just slumped back on the sofa, smiling. You stood up, knees wobbly, straightening out your dress while trying to come up with enough courage to walk over there. You poked Robin’s cheek on your way out to the make-shift dance floor. You could feel all eyes on you, not just your friends, but also the people surrounding you. Honestly, at this point you wished the floor would swallow you whole. And then you came face to face with… Eddie’s back. You still weren’t sure what to do, how to get his attention.

‘’Hey pretty boy, I missed you. Meet me in your van in 10 minutes’’ You whispered in his ear. You were honestly disgusted with yourself. Why would you say something like that? When have you ever said something like that? Why the hell would you call him a pretty boy? You never called Eddie pretty boy? Also, at this point you were pretty tired of whatever this thing between you two was. How would the boy ever know about your feelings, when you said stuff like that? You cringed, and started walking out. Steve and Robin threw their hands up ‘’What the hell was that?’’ Steve asked. You just smiled and skipped out of the door. It was only when Eddie excused himself from the blonde and raced out of the door that Steve and Robin looked at each other, laughed and felt a little proud of their friend's achievement. “i’mma crawl out the window now. getting good at saying ‘’gotta bounce’’. honestly you always let me down. and i know we’re not just hanging out.’’

‘’Eddie.. Eddie, stop’’ As soon as Eddie got in the wan, he was pulling you on his lap, attacking your mouth with kisses ‘’What, pretty girl, isn’t this what you wanted?’’ He said, mocking you. I mean this was kind of what you wanted. Why you came. Only this wasn’t all you wanted, you wanted to arrive at the party with Eddie, not just leave. You wanted to plan cheesy couples costumes, not just arrive and accidentally match (Which this year, you didn’t. So.) You wanted to dance, kiss, and talk all night. Not just when you were in his van or when the party got too boring. ‘’A penny for your thoughts?’’ He asked, just the same way he did at that first Halloween party. You licked your lips, you knew what you wanted to say. You knew what you wanted. You also just didn’t want to lose this. Whatever this was. Because holy fucking shit, had Eddie swept you right off your feet and started your new adventure as a young adult. He cocked his head, while still wearing that smile you just wanted to kiss stupid. But this was the time you needed to stand your ground. When you had mentioned to Steve briefly that you weren’t in the most ideal situation with Eddie, he had tried to coach you in the way of admitting your feelings, in his words ‘’You don’t have anything to lose. So what if he doesn’t feel the same? You’ll stop wasting your time and find someone more deserving.’’ But what Steve didn’t understand, and what you didn’t feel like you could tell him was, that Eddie didn’t feel like a waste of time. No matter what this was, this thing going on between you two, didn’t feel like a waste of time at all. Eddie listened to you, understood you, made you laugh at any given chance.

‘’Hey, you with me, baby?’’ Eddie started to grow concerned. You were just sitting on his lap, looking kind of hazed out while biting your lips. ‘’Y-Yeah. Just thinking’’ You said while playing with his hair, a nervous habit you had formed a while ago, which actually benefited both. ‘’Mmmh, about?’’ Eddie asked, while slowly starting to kiss down your neck. It took everything in you to not just shut off your thoughts and give all of you to that beautiful, doe eyed boy in front of you. ‘’Us’’ you said, almost a whisper. This made Eddie stop his actions, swinging his head back up to face you, while his grip around your thighs tightened. He almost looked like a man in love, you let yourself think for only just a second. There was an awkward silence after that. You weren’t sure if Eddie was waiting for you to proceed or if he had to gather up any confidence to say that there simply wasn’t an ‘’Us’’. There was you, and him and sometimes you and him just happened to cross paths. But there wasn't an ‘’Us’’.

‘’Yeah, and what do you think about, when you’re thinking about us?’’ He tried getting you to proceed. His tone didn’t give anything away. ‘’It’s just.. I’m just.. It’s..’’ You said, biting your lips. Come on. This isn’t so hard. You’ve told him about some of your hardest times, some of your darkest secrets and he didn’t judge you one ounce. Why was it so hard to get it out? ‘’I’m not sure I can do this anymore’’ You settled on saying that, still not giving yourself away. You started fiddling with his jacket. Not daring to look into his eyes ‘’Oh.. Okay. May I ask why?’’ He took your fingers, started to toy with them. This was his new nervous habit. Again, beneficial for both. ‘’I just.. I’m not sure this is enough for me anymore? Y’know? I don’t know if I can keep on pretending that this is good enough for me anymore.’’ You said, without thinking twice. The only thing you were trying to do, is to shield yourself and your feelings against Eddie. You didn’t wanna drop the L-bomb for him to not feel the same (Oh, not the love-bomb by the way. You may be head over heels for this boy, but you’re not quite sure that a few drunken kisses can lead to love.)

‘’ ‘Cause the potential of us, it was keepin me up all night long’’

While the turmoil was still going on inside your head, Eddie was beginning his own war in his mind. What you said, to shield yourself, twisted itself in Eddie's head. What he heard was that he wasn’t enough for you anymore, that he wasn’t enough.

While Eddie didn’t plan on this to be an occurrence as often as it had been, he didn’t mind it. At first you were just the hot girl who could make him forget about his own misery once or twice a month. Eddie swore that at first he only needed company, no matter what or who that company was. It didn’t hurt that it was you, a sight for sore eyes. It made it even easier to forget his own life. But then those stolen, drunken kisses turned into Eddie swapping his beer for water, only for him to remember everything you said the next day, for not forgetting how you smelled so beautifully of vanilla, for remembering every tiny detail about you and lasty, just so he could see your drunken little dance as you walked up to your front door after he’d driven you home. He couldn’t exactly pin-point when he realized that this was no longer just a distraction. That this was actually the best part of the parties. That whenever he knew you were in the same space as him, he couldn’t stop looking to meet your beautiful eyes.

“this could be a disaster, there’s so many factors. Like, what if you freak out and then we’re losin it all. At the critical chapter where I say I love you, and you don’t say it after”

‘’I’ll just drive you home’’ That was it. That was the best reply Eddie could muster up. He wanted an explanation, he knew he should have asked. He knew, deep down, that he must have misunderstood. But that little part of him, the little part telling him that he, Eddie Munson, was not worthy of love from such a beautiful, charismatic, clever young lady like yourself, won yet again. ‘’No, Eddie, it's fine. I’ll just get Steve to drive me home. You just go back to the party and we’ll just pretend this didn’t happen. Honestly it’s fine. Like I saw how much fun you had with that blonde girl, what is her name again? Oh it’s Amelia right? Yeah, Amelia. She is fun. And pretty. And well put together I really liked her costume. And also I forgot to tell you that I liked yours. Like those small devil horns? TO DIE FOR. Yeah, so I mean I guess I’ll just leave your car and then I’ll get Steve to drive me home, and then we’ll just see each other monday like nothing happened, right?’’ Another thing Eddie adored, your rambling. Whenever he’d push your boundaries, just a little, you’d just start telling him about your day. How Dustin had made a fool of himself in the cafeteria, spilling spaghetti sauce all over his white tee, because he was too caught up in telling a story. About how Robin made it a competition to see how many times she could make Steve fall in one shift at Family Video. But not this time. No. Because this time may very well be the last time he will ever hear you rambling, to him at least. This time you were all wrong. Letting your insecurities shine through, ones he himself had added to before he got to know you. And Eddie still cursed himself out for it, everytime he thought of it.

Yes, you did see him with Amelia. What you didn’t see was that he could not stop looking at you, behind her. Looking at how you looked so damn cute when you zoned out from time to time, how your smile grew wider and wider with every sip of your cup, and although Eddie would never really admit this to you - Or even himself. He kind of liked how you didn’t really look all that amused by Amelia. He let himself believe that you were jealous, that you felt like Eddie belonged to you. Because in all honesty, he did. Every fiber of his being belonged to you. You just had to ask, and he would happily, never ever look at another girl again.

‘’but if i’m reading it wrong, man, it’d be better off if i died, oh’’ ‘’Yeah, no. It’s fine. I’m getting tired. I’ll drive you home. I was planning on it, so it’s no hassle.’’ Why couldn’t he at least try to ask? Ask what you meant? Ask what you wanted? Also, why couldn’t he look away from your damn cherry colored lips? So plump, so delicious. But now in a very obvious pout. ‘’Y’know’’ Eddie said, starting the car. ‘’I like your costume too. It’s really pretty.. Your real pretty. You’re always really, fucking pretty.’’ At least that's something right? Kind of gentleman-like? Not a full on, love confession. But something. Maybe it’ll change your mind? Maybe you’ll lean over the console, giving him a kiss that he sought after, ever since you broke off the last one. Maybe you’ll realize he looks at you everyday, thinks of you everyday, daydreams about you everyday. ‘’Thanks Eddie.’’ You say. Not looking at him. Not leaning over the console. So you didn’t understand, and what’s even worse is that you didn’t even believe him. He could hear it in your tone. He knew you, goddammit.

‘’So..’’

‘’I just think’’

You started talking at the same time. Finally. Finally. You smile. At him, nonetheless. ‘’It’s fine, you go first, baby’’ It was a habit. He couldn’t just be expected to stop a habit, albeit he didn’t want to. Not really. ‘’I just think it’s better this way, you know? Like I like you. Very fucking much. Not like, like you? I like kissing you? Is that weird to say? Well I do. And I like hanging out with you, you’re like my party-best friend? Y’know? Like a work-husband? But switch it out with ‘’party’’. Party husband.. No, no. Party best friend? Party, very good looking, very good kisser best friend? That makes sense, yeah,’’ You were so proud of yourself, Eddie couldn’t stop smiling. He knew what was to come, but you were so cute, his smile wouldn’t falter. ‘’Anyhooow. It’s better this way. None of us caught feelings, right? And I’m going off to college, right? So like, we don’t have to do the whole shabang with crying and missing each other. Like we’ll just stop it here. One last kiss at Halloween. Very good. I like that.’’ None of us caught feelings. None of us caught feelings. None. Of. Us. Caught. Feelings.Your sentence kept replaying in Eddie’s head. He didn’t even know what to say anymore. ‘’Yeah, no. Yeah. You’re right. It’s silly. You’re going off to college, and me. I’m.. Y’know. I’ll figure stuff out probably. Yeah, no. Good that we didn’t catch any of those mean things called feelings, right?’’ He said, laughing, hand tight on his neck. The rest of the car ride was silent. There wasn’t anything left to say. A daydream. It was all that it was. You coming out of your cocoon, a beautiful butterfly ready to fly off to college. And Eddie. Eddie was still just that. Eddie. Not good enough for you, Eddie. Not brave enough to tell you how he felt, Eddie. Not your boyfriend, not your hero, Eddie.

And while he watched you dance up to your front door one last time, while he fell in his oh so empty bed, Eddie couldn’t do anything. Not cry. Not laugh. Nothing. Because he screwed it up. He really screwed it up this time.

‘’maybe i’m mistaken. you’re not mine for takin. maybe i’m mistaken. maybe i just made it up, messed it up.’’

so idk i kind of hate this one??? i started writing this in like??? july?? but i have an idea of like multiple chapters?? like throughout their life?? idk the next one is going to be set in college. and i also wanna elaborate more on how eddie fell for the reader. also the whole toilet scene?? where reader is sad about her makeup?? yeah that was very much inspired by myself. only i didn’t have eddie munson coming in. also all my inspirations come from song lyrics?? so i think songs will be a big part of this world im trying to create?? and yeah most of them will be modern:/ im sorry:/ but yeah. let me know what u think. pls be kind. kisses and hugs to all you lovies ♡

EDIT: i privated this for a long time?? so if you’ve already red it thats why. i put it up again BECAUSE IM WRITING A NEW FIC RIGHT NOW and idk so here it is again

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader angst #eddie munson fan fic

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conivolos · 8 months

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pokes head in here. hello coni. pls throw your fics at me i want to read them. what are you most proud of. what are u working on right now. what do you want me to read. i want it all hand it over. (i am being genuine but also silly sjdfklsdj what are u writing i am so curious :eyes:)

adsjaksf hiya!!! :D

and yeah!! i do have a couple of wips i want to rant about kajfhkjah

the first ima shout about (it also might be my favorite but shhh) is a 3rd life renaissance faire au :D its currently treebark and dogwarts centric and is quite literally full of half formed sentences and contextless dialogue, but theres three pages of worldbuilding and plot and im really happy with it so far :D, rens the king of dogwarts (the kingdom the faires set in), and the dogwarts army are, well, the knights of dogwarts. and you know martyn's creeper prank? he makes goose noises instead cause its hilarious and it still scares the crap out of everyone but scott asjkjafh. and ima stop there i dont want to reveal any more cause spoilers askjfhas

another wip is post-canon joel's empires s2 finale!! he is regretting a lot of things and theres three more joels than usual. its likely going to be multichap and full of angst (if i can actually make angst without adding puns into it asjksajfh) with a happy (?) ending :D

a third im hyped about is a waterpark au of sorts, based off of ethos old turf war minigame, The RipZone!! its mostly mycelium resistance centric, purely because i have more of a grasp on writing them than the hep. im not quite sure where to plots going for this one, but i have just enough planned out to be insane about it askdjfaskjfh. theyre highschool ago and its set in australia, at the end of the year, so its the beginning of summer and schools just let out (prime waterpark time babayyy)

and the last is another limited life coral kids fic woooo!! the working title is 'whats your favorite constellation?' and i feel it captures the vibes im going for surprisingly well. its barely written and im hoping it wont be as long as the last lmao, im thinking only about 1k words, and it also wont be explicitly romantic. im playing off of the concept of giving each winner being assigned / associated with a symbol (sun, stars, moon, etc.), and the general fandom confusion on what to give to martyn. and wait i wrote a lil synopsis thing for this like two days ago hold on

'centred on scott and martyn, ties tower has just (or is being) constructed, scott's built them a base, the chaos of bread bridge hasnt quite begun. and, while laying on their beds under the sky, scott talks about the stars above them, lamenting about a past life. martyn and scott discuss the dilemma that is the death games. scott doesnt want to win again and they wonder if martyn's going to win this time. martyns not sure if he wants to (he does). they mostly talk about the stars though, and their favourite constellation. its supposed to be nice and calm, fairly reminiscent of the calm before a storm.'

i edited it a bit, but i reckon its still got the vibes down pretty good :D

oh and also, the fics im probably most proud so far are htgth, really the podcast au in general, and surface of the seas :D

i chose htgth / the podcast au quite a few reasons! theyre the first works i ever finished and published, and, excuse my ego /hj, but, im so happy with the way i got the bad boy's voices to fit really well!! i was (and still am honestly) shocked on how well i wrote them!! (also i really like htgth cause i set myself up some plot points im excited to build up on whenever i get back to writing it akhkfasjhf)

and surface of the seas, partly bc im just really proud of myself for writing that much ksfksajdfh. i think i mostly like it cause the little narrative comparisons and bits of lore just scattered around it :D also when i was almost finished, tying up the loose ends n stuff, it was at around 3-4k and the word count just kept going up its funny now but it was quite daunting when it was happening askfjhahfs.

oh and also maybe ive lost a piece of me, almost purely because of the puns :D

#asks #also hi sorry this took so long to answer #putting thoughts into words is Hard #anyways #this was a bunch of fun answer :D #also how do i tag this #coni wips #aerie beloved #bad boys podcast au #ascending!au #third life ren faire au

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zeltqz · 1 year

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hi! so i read your latest kuroo angst one shot (not me hoping for a part 2) and was wondering one - well more that one but this one the the most important(?) - thing.

mika x kuroo started at the end of middle school (but i suppose they started liking each other prior the middle school dance so mika kept her crush/interest in kuroo a secret from reader 🤔 …also what happened when they got together? like mika knew reader had a crush on kuroo and pretended not knowing it?) and it ended during their 1st year of high school. the party was for their upcoming high school graduation so WHY was kuroo jealous/pissed of at daishou? his relationship with mika ended at least two years prior the pool party 🤔🤥 even if daishou got close to mika out of pettiness it wasn’t really kuroo’s business anymore 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

oh what was mika’s reaction to kuroo’s behaviour- him not giving a fck that he basically used reader (w/o her knowledge) to get a reaction from daishou - bc in the end mika ended up with daisho and not kuroo 🤥🤥

there’s more i’d like to know but im scared it might be a bit overwhelming to try to answer to all of my questions 😅

hehe question time

also ask me whatever you want, i like talking abt my own fics (idk if that sounds self centered but uhh anyway)

LEMME ANSWER NOW

AHEM

mika didnt like kuroo till after he rejected yn during the truth or dare. they didnt start dating until after the dance and the relationship lasted from third year middle school to around first year high school. it didnt last because kuroo waws focusing on volleyball and she went to daishous school instead so they barely saw each other

mika knew yn had a crush on kuroo but thought after the rejection that yn would no longer like him so she went afterr him

(dick move anyone reading this (boy or girl idc) PLS dont go after ur friends crushes its so annoying)

kuroo was mad at daishou not because he was dancing with mika, honestly kuroo couldn't give two shits about mika they havent spoken since they were like what 15?

he was mad/jealous because he knew daishou chose HER (his ex) out of every girl in the party just to get on his nerves. because he wasn't all over mika before they had an argument, like minutes after their arguement he decided to go after kuroos ex

so kuroo decided to do the exact same because he knew that daishou had been crushing on reader for a while but was totally unoblivious to the crush the reader has

so kuroo didn't know that reader liked him, the time she asked him to help her, he didn't know that was her way of spending time with her and the way she asked him to the dance either, he was genuinely thinking of not going but decided to go anyway and mika directly asked him out which is probably why they decided to go together

i made sure reader didn't ask him straight up because i wanted young kuroo to not understand social cues and instead ask him if he was attendending but yeah

then in high school he forgot about reader because they barely spoke. the only times they intereacted was probably less than 5 times in total

and mika was hurt that daishou was only using her to get to kuroo but she didn't care about kuroo that much anymore anyway, she is older now and don't care much abt that flop relationship

but mika and daishou start dating because they started spending more time together and enter their canon era hehe

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onetimetwotimesthreetimess · 1 year

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im ready for this angst train let go

“I’m sleeping. I’m sleeping.” The boy says urgently and clutches the covers more tightly.

rafael is so me-coded i used to do this all the time but im the worst actor ever lmaooooo

Alec leans closer and sits in Magnus's lap, both his legs on either side of him. He grabs Magnus's face gently and kisses his nose.

my fav aesthetic, so domestic. can u imagine all that long limbs trying to fit in tho? alec my tallest smol bby

He strokes Magnus's cheeks softly, letting him get away with whatever he’s hiding and replies. “And what happened in this dream where I’m 70% less attractive. Are we still married?”

“Sadly. Apparently it's the heart I was in for.” Magnus rests his head against Alec's chest and focuses on his heartbeat.

alec's costume for halloween gonna be his ratty sweater + acid green socks + a board with 80% less attractive carved on it cuz it gonna be most scary for magnus

Max tilts his head upwards at Alec and pouts again. Alec kisses his head and peers at magnus. “Magnus, you weren't here yesterday morning. You were in LA.”

ominous music start playing in the background

Alec grins and drags Magnus to the bathroom where Alec thoroughly clears his brain of any secondary thoughts other than his amazing mouth on him.

now this, remind me of several fic ideas in draft, not gonna state which one though

“I know. But it’s revenge for all the weird heterosexual things I had to witness back in the day.” Alec's grin can be heard through the phone.

alec be the pettiest bitch in the planet and i will still support him i support alec rights i support alec wrong

“Alec, Alec, Alec, please stop. Stop dying on me.” Magnus begs as he lays his head on Alec's chest.

hello 911 this sentence right here

im gagging over all the time magnus fail to save alec like its getting bad for me but i love this trope idk idk sue me idc

He spends the entire day on the beach where Alec and he got married and only came back to Jace’s call, screaming and crying. He runs to his husband and mutters apologies over apologies in his ears.

why do i love this type of angst so much, like regret and desperation mixing together in a perfect miserable bowl

Magnus doesn't find out who it is before the night ends. Every single one of them fails at protecting Alec and Magnus screams loud enough to flood the entire city of New York.

Before the city can drown, Magnus wakes up again with Alec peppering kisses across his face.

this sentence *chef kiss*

He closes his eyes and puts one step inside, ignoring the loud “Magnus, no,” from behind.

cant believe magnus making this dumbass move is totally in character for him actually

Max lets out an ugly chuckle. “I’m not weak like you, Bapak.”

now i dont know about you but if i say this to my parent hell gonna break loose doesn't matter how much mistakes my parent made they gonna sweep the floor with my ass

He can get power and maybe his family back. Magnus can have the life he deserves back. Shadow world can go to hell for Magnus cares.

i dont give a fvck magnus in a bit problematic era is valid and i support him

“The butterflies are supposed to be Blue.” Magnus looks at his hands and they have turned almost black now with anger but he doesn’t care who he destroys today.

smart and feral magnus is the most sexy magnus, carved this into the accord @ alec lightwood-bane

Magnus snaps his fingers and a dagger appears in his hand. He pushes the sword in Alec's hands forcefully. “How about you try it Alec? Plunge the sword into me and kill me” He screams.

mister this is a mcdonald drive through pls staph STAPH

“I wish I had never fucking met you, Alexander. That you never knocked on my door that night.” Magnus exhales. “Every single one of my nightmare is related to you. I wouldn't be in all this pain if not for you.”

this is pain but all i can think about is alec's mind yelling the entire chorus of antihero after he heard magnus said this. god's timing always right. now, shrek forever after!au when magnus's magic accidentally reacts to his outburst and re-set the timeline to when alec never met magnus. someone writes this

He wants to turn the shadowhunter into a toad.

“I will drown you in a pool of ducks.”

“Shut up.” Jace says even though he looks scared at the prospect.

the only brother in law that matter

“I thought you’d freak out if you wake up in our room again. So when I woke up this morning, I got you here.” Alec explains.

very virgo of him to do so

“You said a bad word yesterday, daddy.” Max explains.

they gonna have a cuss jar in the near feature arent they

Alec follows through on his promise this time.

but he wont be able to 70 years from now on- JK HAHA thats my alter ego talking love is fine love is great love is infinite i love love

great work as always your magnus angst always magnificent

Thank you. Thank you. My Magnus angst is the reason I can get through life.

I love how your thoughts go from A to Q in 0.06 seconds. It’s like watching a genius work in real time.

This fic was so fun to write because it was absolutely unhinged. I got to write soft Magnus, Magnus in his unhinged era, angry Magnus, sad, desperate Magnus. It’s like Magnus x10000.

Also yes, Alec making himself small in Magnus’s lap is such a soft aesthetic🥺

me getting 7 more fic ideas only from your reactions alone lol.

#malec groundhog fic #YADAB #anh cutie

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tobi-momo · 3 years

Text

The Third Set

PAIRING: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

GENRE: Romance | Pining | Fluff | A lil crack (kinda)

WARNINGS: not proofread | a lil ooc and soft at the end (pls dont get mad at me 😭😭)

WORD COUNT: 1k+

A/N: hihihi ok so this idea literally came to me while reading another fic (i cant remember it now im super sorry) and it wouldnt leave my head so i couldnt NOT write it yk? pls keep in mind that it gets rlly soft at the end and really out of character😭 i just hc that does affectionate things during an adrenaline rush, like he's too hyped to care ab what going on around him he just wants to see you, and so this is basically where that came from kasjkhasd- also this is not meant to be spicy at all whatsoever (although some remarks from the others are made that way when you read) its supposed to be romantic and lighthearted, so pls dont think its that sexual😭 also thank you @awmahleebkg my wife for giving me the confidence to post this i love you baby <333

Watching Kei play was one of your favorite things to do. Sure, that might sound a little sad, but watching him and his team working together on the court was something that you wouldn't miss the world for. Until an away game came along, it taking place somewhere farther than they usually are, and since you weren't a part of the team, you couldn't take the school bus with them. So, you took the city bus. He might have told you not to, he might have told you to wait at your house for him to return and tell you about it, but you couldn't help it. This was an important game, and you needed to be there and support him.

He was nervous, although someone who didn't know as well as you wouldn't be able to tell, you were always able to see right through him. Always able to tell when he was nervous or scared, even intimidated. He found it annoying, that you were always there for him, confused as to why you dedicated your time for him, but years after your first meeting he realized that he would do the same for you. You didn't know that his heartbeat the same way for you as it did for him, and he sure as hell didn't know that the reason you stuck by him all these years was to feel that exact heartbeat next to yours.

[3:37 P.M.]

Kei <3: Stay home, y/n

Y/n: but it's an important game! i want to cheer you on!

Kei <3: I'll tell you what happens after I get home if you really want me to. But stop whining at me it's annoying.

Y/n: 😠😠 let. me. go.

Kei <3: No.

Y/n: i hate you so much

Kei <3: Sure you do

You wouldn't listen to him, of course. Why would you? You get your bag ready to leave, filling it with snacks and water bottles to help the team out.

By the time you snuck in, it was half-way past the second set. Tensions were high and sweat was dripping off their jaws while they gain each point. You made sure to stay a little quieter, not wanting Kei's attention to be drifted away from the game, especially since you weren't supposed to be there. By the time they won that set, they were tied with the other team. One more set left, things are getting really heated.

The score remained close to each other throughout the game, Karasuno being two points away from a win with their opponent three points behind them. Watching Kei as he looks at the floor with frustrated eyes, obviously mad at himself for not doing better. He frowns, taking a sip of water so no one sees it. You can see a slight tint of fear in his eyes- he was scared of losing the set. Although all you've seen were blocks of perfection, even a couple spikes that hit the court floor aggressively, points going towards Karasuno once more, he thought he wasn't doing good enough. You knew he was amazing, everyone in the room knew it too, so why didn't he?

He jogs back on the court after a timeout from the other team, getting into a serve/receive position, waiting for the ball to come over the net. The server on the other team hit the ball over, sending it straight to Nishinoya, who receives the ball perfectly, passing it to Kageyama. Backing up into the set, Hinata runs behind Kageyama, surprising the blockers on the other side of the net when Hinata smacks the floating ball down with his might. Instead of the ball hitting the floor, the left-back position receives the ball at the seam, shanking it towards the audience.

Another point.

The crowd goes wild and the air tightens as the scoreboard raises. You bounce on the bleachers and stomp your feet in excitement, knowing that this match would be over soon.

Kei exhales sharply at the whistle, relief, and nervousness seeping out of him. He can do it, he thought. Only one more point. When the ball passes him to the other side of the court, quickly moves to the right side of the net, jumping and completely regretting his decision once the ball hits the floor. He watches the ball trail off in shock, the whistle suddenly getting too loud for him. He grits his teeth in defeat, thinking that it would be over for them. His head faces the ground, his hands are balled up in fists. That's when you decide to take initiative.

Inhaling a harsh breath, you stand up putting your hands on each side of your face before yelling out to him.

"TSUKISHIMA KEI!!!"

His head whips from the floor, his eyes widening once they find yours in the big crowd. You stand out- to him at least.

"DON'T GIVE UP!!! YOU GOT THIS!! LET'S GO!!"

His pupils dilate at your figure cheering him on, suddenly wishing he hadn't told you to stay home. He didn't know you were there, or how you get here in the first place, but he was glad you came. He wanted you there. His shocked expression turned into a smirk of confidence before he turns back around and goes to his position. The whistle blows once more, telling the server that they can go. He refocuses on the court, watching the ball and everyone near it, analyzing everyone's movements and predicting where the ball is going to go. The big spiker on the other team runs towards the net with his approach, swinging his arms back, ready to slam the ball down as Kei quickly beats him to it, jumping and raising his arms on top of the net in defense.

The ball smacks the floor of the court.

Kei's eyes glow when his feet touch the ground again.

They won.

He tries his best to catch his breath, heaving once his teammates trample him on the ground. You scream in victory, jumping up and down, sprinting down the bleachers to the team, them welcoming you with tight hugs and cries of joy. Electricity coursed through Kei's veins, adrenaline making his sight clearer, his hearing less muffled and his breathing a lot clearer.

You see Kei on the other side of the court, getting up and steadying himself on his feet once you two lock eyes. You run towards him with a fast pace, him reciprocating as his legs speed up toward you. You jump on him, clinging to him as much as you could when wrapping your legs around him, digging your head in his shoulder. His hand immediately grab the back of your thighs for support, helping your body balance on his while you tug on his neck.

You praise him, telling him how proud you were of him picking himself up and being the best, telling him how amazing his blocks and spikes were, how amazing he was. You could hear his breathless laughs of joy, a genuine smile painting his face when you subconsciously pepper his face in firm pecks from your lips, showering him in sweet affection for his win.

"YOU DID SO AMAZING KEI!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!! THAT WAS SO COOL!! YOU SHOULDA SEEN YOURSELF OUT THERE! OH MY GOD THAT WAS- THAT WAS PERFECT!! I KNOW YOU WERE DOUBTING YOURSELF A LITTLE BIT BUT YOU WERE AMAZING THE WHOLE TIME I MEAN-"

Your words muffle when his lips crash onto your- a rough, exciting kiss that has you moaning in his mouth from surprise and desperation from wanting this for the longest time. Your hands slide up from his neck to his cheeks, palming them and pulling him closer while your lips disconnect and reconnect rapidly, not being able to get enough of each other. His hands subtly, but firmly squeeze your thighs while you tilt your head, giving him the chance to kiss you deeper. The amount of emotion going through your bodies, desperation, love, excitement, impatience, relief, mixing with the adrenaline in your system's causing your worlds to finally collide and mix.

"What are they doing?"

"I don't know but I feel like I'm interrupting something"

"I think they're the ones interrupting"

"Just let them have this one, guys"

"They are literally about to do it on the court how am I not supposed to feel uncomfortable, Suga-san?"

"Aw, these lovebirds are finally getting together, I knew it would happen"

"Liar, you bet they wouldn't!"

"Tanaka-san! You weren't supposed to say anything!"

You couldn't hear any of the banter in the background, your only focus was him, and his only focus was you. And all the team could do was watch.

pls i know this was rlly ooc im super sorry

taglist: @combat-wombatus @hitosushi @toosharkinternet @alpha3113 @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @solar3lunar @zerohawks @katsuhera

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batarangsoundsdumb · 3 years

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yet another ask dump yeehaw!

do you ever think that jay's mother was one of those bitch who believes in horoscope and tarots and things like that and so he believes in these things too, or it is just me projecting?

sheila haywood took one look at jason's birthchart said 'nah this won't do' and left.

Wait, but what happens when the justice league does find out that Bruce and John fucked? Lmao it sounds like it would be hilarious, really, I don’t want a justice league that doesn’t make fun of Bruce for like his entire life.

barry runs out of the meeting immediately and comes back with an entire sti testing kit. diana fully seriously wants bruce to get tested while bruce is sitting there like 'come on guys, you're being ridiculous, i already checked twice'

john is standing in the corner clearly offended while bruce is just like 'don't even say anything, constantine, you fucked a shark'

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

on the one hand, good for him, on the other hand, bro, how do you still have a secret identity when your superhero name is just your last name,,,,

Your fic on ao3 was GOLD PLEASE CONTINUE I loved Dinah's cameo btw ( @purple-vixen

thanks so much! i already continued but this ask is like 10 years old because i'm a notorious procrastinator (also yes! i love dinah so much aahhhhhhhhhhhh)

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

bruce internally: holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit bruce externally: get out of my city, alien

AHHH ur multimedia fic is the only thing that brings me happiness anymore continue it forever pls

uhh thanks, but can't continue it forever because my attention span is that of a toddler on crack on a good day and i can't function without at least 10 things going on at the same time and music in the background

Oi, so I'm getting into dc and watching batman the animated series, and they use fruitcake a lot. Which I thought was very funny and wanted to share w you - Denilla

wait like fruitcake (food) or fruitcake (derogatory) ?

young justice 🤝 teen titans slut shaming batman

tim drake and dick grayson to their respective teams 'you guys stop it, that's my dad'

Happyhoganon: If an eighty year old Batman had fought crime in Gotham City for decades and the only threats to him and the city lately are a wheel chair bounded Penguin, your usual purse snatchers and a few con artists popping up every now and then, how well could the Dark Knight do in maintaining the peace in Gotham despite him being just somewhat fit to do that as an elderly man (which says A LOT given how old he is)

uhh he'll probably do what my grandpa does and that is ruthlessly prank them until they die of shame.

in the death in the family interactive movie there's an ending where Jason is tasked with raising Damian and he decides he's gonna raise Damian to take down the waynes and al ghuls which uh maybe isn't great BUT the idea of Jason raising Damian... PRICELESS. CHAOTIC. I just need more people to know about this :)

yes i saw that wow holy shit but jason would accidentally drop damian on his head one (1) hour in and jason just yeets him into the lazarus pit.

Headcanon: The Penguin has a really hard time fighting any of the Robins because of his avian obsession means there's always a small part of his mind that's like "Birb. Child. Protect" ( @subspacecadet )

as soon as dick becomes nightwing the penguin is like 'you know what, fuck this dude' and shoots at him.

Y'all talking about King Shark dating Constantine, let's not forget about John literally hooking up with Satan

listen there's a clear difference between monsterfucker and satanfucker in that king shark is literally a shark and satan still looks like a normal dude

Does everyone in Gotham think Batman is a teen dad?

everyone in gotham thinks batman has been around since gotham was founded, but they do think that bruce wayne is actually a teen father and dick grayson's biological dad.

why. why would you do that fancast when you know it will only hurt people

what? i loved my fancast it was really well done. i did it with good representation in mind and i really managed that with alfred pennyworth being ✨italian✨

Seeing james charles a jason gave me psychic damage how dare you i need to wash my eyes

well that's a you problem isn't it?

do you think dick grayson thirst tweets about nightwing just to annoy his family/cause problems on purpose in general?

he thinks nightwing is hot, next question.

holy jiminy cricket batman, its as cold as the good lords ass crack in here!!

i- what? this is why i don't fuck with english expressions it's way too goddamn weird

Brooooooo, your teen dad!Bruce au is soooo good. I've got brainrot.

Honestly if you ever write anymore, I'd read that shit twice. Sign me the fuck up. Good stuff, Good Stuff.

uh yeah i'm thinking about writing a fic, but i have exams coming up and i don't wanna fail because that would suck. but after i'll certainly be writing more tho

your teen dad AU is so great! bruce acting like a big brother for all of like a week before he's telling everyone about his son. what if in the AU dick meets the JL because they need to rescue him? maybe he's in trouble/kidnapped at a gala and bruce starts calling for JL. clark finds him and has to fly with dick to bring him home - that's how dick and clark meet and superman becomes dick's fave hero. he goes around the manor thinking he can fly with a red blanket draped around him like a cape.

actually- if you want a young dad! bruce fic with like that kinda stuff(just with damian) go check uhh- in for a penny by cdelphiki. it's really good and bruce is like 24/25-ish. (and dick's there!!!)

This account has solely convinced me that Tim is a trash goblin ( @hamilcat-and-magic-turtle )

because he is. that boy has slept in dumpsters on multiple occasions even if he is the son of a billionaire.

Okay but when you said victory dance I did think of the whole justice league defeating the big bad and then they all start flossing

well that's exactly what hal jordan does and that's why batman uses a gun now. no but the victory dance in my opinion is like the 'we're all in this together' dance from high school musical.

The horrors in Invincible s1 was nothing compared to the comics, I cant wait for s2

oh well okay, i mean i personally react to horror and violence by laughing awkwardly so i can't wait to be called a monster for accidentally laughing at a mass murder.

I'm currently watching Batman: The Brave and The Bold and- Bruce is just talking about Oliver like he's an old love (@nightwings-kid)

okay im going to watch that lmao that's totally and completely in character for him tho.

The invincible comic is like super gratuitous with its violence so much so I'm shocked the show was able to adapt it in a faithful way! Anyway had the show been live action it absolutely wouldn't have the same impact as it does as an animated show and I'm so glad so many people agree with me on that

also because a live action casting would've been like uhh amanda stenberg for amber, the dude- the guy from the supernatural but with a mustache for omni-man, and scarlet johanssen for debbie grayson

Debbie grayson is a milf, yes. You're welcome for the invincible propoganda, now you can questions your life. Bruce def seems like the perfect father next to Omni-man. Like they really took a rip off justice league and I was like well, now I'm attached even tho I was like hah I know who they're supposed to be. And then bam- death gore death gore gore gore sad Mark grayson just had to have daddy issues. Why does every character have daddy issues. I'm sick of the attacks

because daddy issues make a person arguably funnier, that's why i'm not even remotely funny (haha good dad flex). i liked that it was dark contextually, but not in the colouring, bc i hate when it's like 'uh yeah graphic murder and now a shot so dark you have to sit in a dark room and squint at the screen to faintly see the characters. (like dcau ugh)

About the Wayne insurance, for a moment I thought you would put the video with moans over the waves.

i mean- i could've done that, but rick rolling seemed more family friendly.

Its the first time in forever that im surpise rickrolled, i usually expect it. Congratulations (i really should know better this is tumblr)

i get rickrolled so often but i actually like the song so i dont really give a fuck

Actually, my information about Damian and John's kids is outdated because it was revealed that the old men telling the kids stories about the Supersons were actually Jon and Damian the whole time. I was blinded by my thirst for Grandpa!Bruce Wayne but I was wrong... I liked my version better, tbh (@artemisa97)

fair enough. but i'd honestly like to see damian and jon getting together, just because it's a really fun dynamic and their friendship was really cute when they were kids. (also idk maybe it would be nice to have one (1) main batfam/superfam character that's not cishet)

How am i JUST finding your blog skdskfkd you're so fucking funny and ur takes are hot

i thought u were calling me hot :( but youre not :( crime detected (but lmao thanks)

So I have depression and I swear that your memes are one of the few things that have made me laugh so thank you 💛🥺 (@katekanebadass)

aw you're welcome, and i hope you're doing okay!

The metropolis memes are so funny, I love them 💀😌

i think metropolis is also so fucking funny it deserves more attention imagine having your entire police force being upstaged by an alien from kansas and his kids

as an american i feel your complete lack of knowledge of us geography is just so sexy (platonic) ❤️

thanks so much (i also don't know any other geography, i'm not kidding, like you can tell me you're from hungary and it will just blank, there will be nothing that comes to mind)

In the DC universe they don't say "Can't have shit in Detroit" they say "Can't have shit in Gotham"

this just reminds me of that guy whose porch got stolen like the steps to his door, and i'm thinking of people living in gotham and waking up without a front door and going "can't have shit in gotham"

honestly all i know about chicago is the bean, so. what would gotham's famous sculpture be?

gigantic gargoyle statue in front of one of the police precincts because a villain thought it was a smart way to keep the police inside, but it's too heavy to move.

why tf do people go on about how batman "works alone" or how he's the "lone wolf" when he like 38290202 members in his family

bc people think it's cool that a grown man in his 30s has no friends or family instead of calling it what it is (sad)

Bruce is gotham's sugar daddy

why would say something so controversial yet so brave.

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

dick: gerard way are you in position, gerard way are you in position

tim: for the last fucking time, my codename is 'totally not count olaf' this week, abbafan 3000

dick: shut up my codename isn't 'abbafan 3000'

dick: it's 'abbafan number 1' and you know it

I have a feeling Tim drake is ur favourite batfamily member but okay u don't have favs if u say so ok

i mean he is, i won't deny it. but i love each and every one of the batfam just the same, i just have a weak spot for short dumbass nerds, because i'm a short dumbass nerd.

Omg i fuckin love boy meets world too fam shsjkfk

bro boy meets world was the shit!!! it was just fire and awesome and so fucking great like bro. it was so good im not even going to be accepting criticism

you know I find the whole "joker completes batman" thing a bit disgusting considering the horrendous stuff the batfamily went through because of the joker and let's not get started on the "joker has a point" thing like yeah he's this cool complex villain but he's absolutely batshit crazy

like yes! i get what you mean the joker just fucking sucks man he doesn't do shit for batman's character or the batfam he's literally just annoying as fuck. like the joker has a point' shit is so stupid. i will accept 'magneto was right' because he fucking was and i think he didn't do anything wrong, but joker? he's just like that. he's not even cool and complex he's just a weirdo with a bleach kink at this point.

ALSO YOUR RACISM POST- SO TRUE BESTIE

thanks bestie, i'm glad you agree.

in today's essay of why I think cass should become batman- I was thinking Tim would probably be the most efficient batman in many ways but I also think he wouldn't want to be batman tbh none of the batfamily members would want to be batman because they're trying to outgrow him but cass is the one who wants to represent the symbol that is batman

absofuckinglutely i will say it again and again that cass represents the batsymbol more than anyone in the batfam, in batgirl (2000) she literally didn't care about anything else than bruce's oath to not kill, she thought the batsymbol was more important than anything in gotham. she's just an excellent character because her motivation to not kill is not 'i'm scared i can't come back from it' or 'well my dad says no murder so i'll go along with it' but that she's killed somebody as a young child and she never wants to kill a human ever again and that's so fucking beautiful for a new batman like yes.

need more cass, duke and tim inclusion in gothamite memes

yes yes, a tall order of cass, duke and tim coming up in 1-14 business days

oldest to youngest batfam members cus I'm confused as shit

okay order of being taken in: dick, jason, tim, cass, damian, duke order of age: alfred, bruce, dick, cass, jason, tim, duke, damian (though cass and jason are around the same age general consensus is that cass is a little older)

I'm so confused Steph is a redhead?? like how was it that hard to get this right? the source material is literally right there and free

cw is jared, 19

do you receive anon hate? if so, how do you deal with it

uh no, i'm not remotely popular enough to get anon hate and i also don't say a lot of things that would attract anon hate, but i do send anon hate to @the-real-peter-parker because he forgot about the specialists from winx club

Wait how many languages do you speak??

uhh- 5 if you include latin, but that's a dead language and i'm really bad at it. but english, my native language, german, and french also, tho german and french not fluently.

You can mix aguaepanela with aguardiente 😈 and is tasty

okay but now i'm curious if the liquor deserves the 😈 emoji or if that's a you problem. but i googled it and it looks like something you'd take one sip of and then not remember the rest of your evening.

#i love all of you guys so much thanks for all these asks #some of these are literally from march but fuck it #the day tumblr puts dates next to anon messages is the day i close my inbox crawl into a hole and die #it's such a basic task to answer asks but i don't want to bother anyone with asks clogging up their timeline #and if i don't have a funny or good answer i'm like 'uhh okay won't answer it now then'#so this is for you #also i deleted a few asks because it gives me mental pain to see my inbox go over 50 and it's almost at 100 #i was complaining about having too many asks to the-real-peter-parker like months ago and then i had 45 asks in my inbox #now it's amassed to going over 100 twice #but no i love all of you and you're great and you're all fantastic and i lvoe you #muchos kiss kiss #kiss kiss for my kiddies lvoe you #invincible spoilers #dc #dcu #dc comics #ask #anon #bataranswers #i really wanna try aguapanela now i'm gonna see if i can find panela somewhere and review it for you babes #uh yeah that's it #muchos gracias for all your questions babes

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gunmetal-ring · 2 years

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11x16 stream of consciousness

This is reminding me of jeepers creepers for some reason and idk why lol

Flashback... surprise. Aw does hershel have a stuffed pig?! That's so fuckin cute I wanna see it

Lance is not a great military commander if he's just like. Flipping coins lmao

Oh shit real Stephanie/max and Eugene did the deed! Nerds. Manbun alert.

OK so they're gonna ditch I guess. Where are they? Isn't Leah with them? I guess not?

If they're trying to sneak away in broad daylight...?

Okay so Leah is with some non armored stormtroopers?? How did Leah not see them sneaking away aren't they like RIGHT there

Hiding underground. Nice. "My wife is pregnant" Oh? Interesting that it matters to you now. #foreshadowing Annie's gonna die. Maggie is starting to trust negan... spinoff alert. Ew gross swarm of locusts.

Where is the 2nd location WHAT are they clearing can I please get some goddamn answers are they just sweeping for maggie?? Hello?! Oop there it is. The revolution. Calling bs that the stormtroopers aren't radioing for help. GABE FOR THE SNEAK ATTACK GODDAMN ok I officially like him he's proved himself to be a badass this season.

"Scholarship fund" lol and pay for textbooks with $50,000 amirite?! #cancelstudentloandebt. Oh no, the fundraiser queen is corrupt, whoda thunkit

Incredible that all these secret hiding locations are just. Popping up out of nowhere. I rly find it hilarious that oceanside has existed only to tell the commonwealth to fuck off. No hiding Maggie and team family, no food assistance, no nothing.

Sebastian, how does the old saying go? If everyone around you is an asshole, maybe it's you? Also like literally all max had to do was say "Yup working late" and not act like she's snooping how the fuck would he know any better. You can tell she's the younger sibling. Her parents gave up on being strict by the time mercer got thru to them.

?? What?? Okay sure just rig the building. Uh oh... here comes Leah. She's a better shot than that. The whole swarm of locusts thing would have been better w pope bc he was the crazy religious one. Leah didn't rly seem to give a shit one way or the other. I find it hard to believe she couldn't hit Maggie while running away but whatever ok.

What do you know the rogue assassin you hired is rogue. Lance you rly do suck as a military commander lol

Yup here it comes, the nonsensical narrative arc in which Daryl kills Leah to save Maggie. Makes all the sense in the world. Ah and apparently everyone knows who leah is. Ok time to stop being bitter. Wait oh no oh fuck is Daryl gonna kill Leah bc Leah kills Lydia?! No God pls no I'm sorry Kang I'll take everything i said back this is a great season so far its my favorite ever and the writing has been a1 I swear and I don't even care abt caryl I promise ill nevet write fic that fixes nonexistent plot holes bc nothing about this season could possibly be improved just DONT kill Lydia.

Connie's outfit is very cute I like that shirt. Lol this is magnas first scene in like a hundred episodes I forgot about her. Zeke is a badass as per usual

Wouldn't all the walkers be drawn to the explosion at the building? Not just wandering in the woods? She knocked her out and tied her to a chair and Maggie has been unconscious for like 6 hours... sure. "Everyone you love will be dead" why not hunt them down while Maggie is knocked out overnight? Why just sit there the whole time? OK maybe Maggie will kill Leah and be done with it. I'd actually be fine with that. Yup ok there it is. Great. No fuckin fanfare or anything either. Whatever at least it's over now. I'm sure we won't ever see a discussion or outpouring of feelings about it either were just supposed to accept that Daryl had no feelings and was totally neutral about killing the first woman he'd ever had a relationship with. Sure. Honestly I'd be OK if he talked to Carol about it bc that would salvage this the absolute tiniest bit but I know that won't happen.

Real talk tho how did Connie get that shit printed lol. OK Alexandria is now property of commonwealth? And hilltop? Why? Why not just kill everyone and leave? Seriously this shit is so stupid. OK at least they're rounding people up. Oh lol there's oceanside. Heads they kill them tails they're prisoners of war? What?

Surprise surprise this episode sucked, I'm rly over it. I hate that I'm actually glad this arc is over like seriously I wish I loved this show still I wish I wasn't so fuckin invested and disappointed I want to love the show that my ship is in and I hate that I'm actually glad it's ending. Ugh. UGH. I hate that I'm actually looking forward to caryl going canon bc it means the buildup is over and I know they're gonna fuck up the build up. UGH!!!!

Anyway I'm just gonna start my 10c 11a 11b rewrite now. Leave the missing moments until after the series is over. I'm gonna make a list of moments that we should have seen tho bc no fuckin way am I ever gonna rewatch this season lol.

Omg I didn't even realize that they blew up Barrington house lol. "We've been talking about luck a lot" Oh right when else did they talk about luck? Wasn't that with Carol and Daryl? With double capper acorns? With "we have luck on our side" and "our luck has run out" like it JUST fucking happened! Where are THOSE callbacks?!

Overall disappointed but not the least bit surprised. Underwhelmed once more. Truly insane just how shitty this season has been so far. Glad this block is over and looking forward to all the fix it fic coming this hiatus. Ugh.

#op #twd #twd s11 spoilers #twd season 11 #twd s11 #twd spoilers #review

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1990jeevas · 3 years

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Braid Me a Home

summary:

"Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

A story about the Sleepy Bois being family, told through braids.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: child neglect, hurt/no comfort, canonical character death, implied/referenced mental health issues (like it’s obvious but there isn’t much detail to it), brief blood mentions (ik this fic sounds kinda angsty as hell but its not? imo its light angst)

a/n: first dream smp fic and im ALREADY projecting? christ. anyways. go easy on me pls this is far from my best work i just havent written a fic in like 5 months (more if you dont count the fucking chat fics) mm also i may have posted this like a week ago on ao3 just to test the waters and its already gotten way more comments and kudos than any fic of mine usually gets this early on so hopefully tumblr enjoys it too :]

—

When Wilbur Soot was born, he came out crying, as most babies do. Covered in vernix and blood, he weighed just barely above the seven-pound mark, gasping out sharp cries that only a parent could truly stand, or worse—love. Though he was the second baby born into the family that day, he was fussed over far more than he would ever be again.

Technoblade, on the other hand, had barely made a sound when he came out, a trail of blood smeared across his forehead, almost as if it was meant to be there. He made small noises that were more akin to confused mumbles, weakly grasping at his father’s hair when he was eventually passed on for the second child to be welcomed into the world.

Only when both boys were held in their father’s grasp did Wilbur quiet down, his soft head leaning into his father’s beard as he stared wide eyed at the boy across from him. Though they looked similar enough, Technoblade’s nose was squished further back into his face, appearing almost snout-like to Philza. Of course Wilbur noted this, wiggling until their father somehow managed to get them pressed right up against each other with minimal damage done. Though Techno never stopped squinting like an annoyed old man at Wilbur, he allowed the other to press a fist against his nose, his eyebrows unfurrowing just the slightest bit at the touch.

From that day on, Philza was the father of two twin boys—a loud boy who cried easily, but always calmed down for his older brother, and a rather monotone one, who’s face seemed to be permanently stuck in a scowl, unless said face was being smushed around by the younger. And things worked like that for a while. Not forever, but...a while.

—

Philza taught Wilbur to braid on a hot Monday afternoon.

It had been a rough day for the boy, though Phil hadn’t a clue why. Maybe he had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed? Or maybe he hadn’t slept enough between bedtime and the time Tommy had started crying again, the youngest boy’s crib being right beside his head and all. Though it might’ve seemed cruel from an outsider’s perspective, Wilbur had been the one to ask for it. Something about Tommy being his little brother and how he needed to teach the boy the ways of the world in the same way Techno had taught him—because apparently that was all Techno’s doing now, not Phil’s.

Regardless, Wilbur had been a bit too snippy for Phil’s liking that day, complaining about every little thing they did until finally, the day was over.

Well, as over as it could be with Techno leaving mid foam sword fight, an annoyed shout of ‘I quit!’ leaving his mouth before he snatched up Tommy’s carrier and brought him inside for god knows what reason.

It had only been around four P.M. by that time—too early for dinner, yet too late for Phil to really demand the boy stay outside and continue to entertain himself with a brother who was clearly not entertained himself.

Details aside, Phil isn’t really sure how they got to braiding. He just knows at some point they did and by the end of their outside time, just before the clock struck six, Wilbur had made two thick, messy braids in his hair. They stuck out awkwardly, looking all too similar to Pippi Longstocking’s iconic hairdo for his comfort, but he’d be damned if he took out the braids his son had so happily rushed inside to show his older brother before demanding to do his hair as well. After all, Wilbur didn’t have long enough hair for braids, but Technoblade sure as hell did. It was only at his shoulder blades back then, brunette curls wrapping around his narrow shoulders and thin arms like thick vines.

Wilbur had always enjoyed brushing it out with his fingers and putting cute, handmade clips or flowers in it at random, decorating the waves for his brother who was more than happy to let the boy do as he pleased. Though he would never admit it, Technoblade liked how it felt when Will played with his hair. He was always careful not to tug too hard, prioritizing the comfort of his other half more than the beauty of his work, as he so often referred to it.

So when Will had presented him with the mess that was his first two braids, he wasn’t hesitant at all to let the boy practice on him. Instead, he walked to the couch with a small smile, removing his glasses gently and getting comfortable before his brother plopped down into the space behind him. Long legs draped over long legs with no warning, thighs pressed together as if they were meant to be like that all along—and they might as well have been, for how often they did this.

Phil had watched them from the doorway in content silence, Tommy sitting behind him in a wooden high chair looking bored, but not making a fuss for once. And as he left that doorway to begin dinner, he listened to their muffled conversation and soft bursts of laughter with a small smile on his lips, for he knew things wouldn’t always be this way. They would have to grow up eventually, and when they did, things would change. Phil could only hope it was for the better.

—

When Tommy turns nine, Wilbur teaches him to braid under circumstances not too different from the ones he had learned under himself.

Well. Not too too different.

Philza and Technoblade had been...busy as of late. In the house for three days, out for a week, in for a week, out for three more, over and over and over again. Wilbur had become more like a father to Tommy in recent months than he should’ve been, his fourteenth birthday fast approaching as their father took Techno out for yet another job, one that Wilbur couldn’t come on because he was too fucking weak to do anything Techno could do, too fucking stupid to learn all the techniques Techno did, lacking all the strength and agility his older sibling possessed, like the useless prick he was-

Right. This is about Tommy.

When Tommy was nine, his hair rested gently against his collarbones in the exact same cut and color as their father wore. If Wilbur was a lesser man, he would’ve hated the kid for it, but it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t see what a selfish git their father truly was yet. All he knew was that their dad was busy a lot and that, for some reason, Techno needed to go with him. Apparently, that was enough for him to keep holding onto the idea that one day, the man would stay longer and maybe, just maybe, show him some of the same care that his older brother did.

If Wilbur was a better man, he would tell Tommy the truth. He would tell him all about the way Philza had called him useless in a fight, forcing him to instead stay home and care for a child while still being one himself. He would mention how Philza had given him no instructions on how to care for a developing child, how he left out key details to parenting on his own as a goddamn thirteen-year-old, yet remembered to tell him things would be better this way because god forbid he does his fucking job as a father for anyone but Technoblade—

Who he missed. He missed Technoblade, his other half, so fucking bad it hurt sometimes—so bad it left him gasping for breath at two A.M., his head pounding in tandem with his uneven heartbeat, lungs burning as his snot and tears soaked into his brother’s cold, cold sheets. And it made him feel fucking pathetic because the truth of the matter was that...Techno had left him behind too. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the older boy, no matter how hard he tried. Couldn’t hate Philza either, if he were to be honest with himself, but it was a lot easier to pretend he did when his father was the one putting them all in this position to begin with.

So, Tommy was nine when he learned how to braid.

Phil had promised him and Techno would be back Tuesday morning.

It was Wednesday afternoon.

Tommy didn’t fucking understand, and as frustrating as it was that the prick decided to take it out on Wilbur, he couldn’t blame him. Who else was he supposed to take this shit out on? Certainly not the man who had yet to return.

Wilbur had started the braid as a way to distract him. It was simple, really—tell him you know something he doesn’t and that he won’t get to know if he doesn’t sit the fuck down and listen.

When he had started tugging the boy’s hair back from his face, his immediate reaction was to jerk away, swatting at the hands that hovered over his shoulders. This only happened once or twice more before he let it happen naturally, his posture stiff as Wilbur ran his fingers through the boy’s hair with practiced ease.

Though it may not have seemed like it, Tommy was significantly more averse to touch than Techno had ever been. The only reason Techno even seemed averse to it was because of his hesitance to initiate, something he and Wilbur had discussed in depth. Rejection was one of the few fears Technoblade truly had and Wilbur held that fact close to his heart, ready to die with it if need be. Tommy, on the other hand? He was very particular about where and when and why someone was touching him, and it had taken Wilbur a long time to get used to that fact. But, he wasn’t about to make his little brother uncomfortable just so he could be happy and, eventually, he learned the ins and outs of how to touch TommyInnit without causing issue.

Pulling a few of the shorter strands towards the front of Tommy’s face loose, Will separated the blonde’s hair into three sections. They were rather small, what with how thin and short his hair was, it just barely being long enough to even have a proper braid in it, but Wilbur knew he could make it work.

“Now, Toms, you gotta listen to me here, because I can’t show you this bit, yeah? Phil and Tech aren’t here, and my hair is too short, so you’ll just have to feel it out for now, but...this is how you braid hair-” Wilbur had said in a soft voice, brushing the pad of his thumb over the boys neck slowly to ease the tension out of his shoulders. The effect was immediate, the boy slouching forward as if he had just noticed he was holding himself so sternly. Smiling softly, Wilbur instructed him on how to weave the strands together, answering questions and pulling lightly at Tommy’s hair so he could feel exactly where everything went. After he was done, Tommy had reached back to feel the bumps in his hair, all his earlier anger seemingly gone as he gave a small smile. And then he tried it himself.

Of course he got a bit of help at first, Wilbur’s larger hands guiding his own with gentle corrections, but after that Tommy worked on it alone, his older brother watching in silence from a patch of grass beside the porch step.

That night, Tommy and Wilbur slept in Techno’s bed, a soft, blue blanket wrapped tightly around them. And if another body woke them up at some point that night, shoving its way into the mess of limbs, their chest pressed right up against the youngest boy’s back, then that was only for them to know.

—

At eleven years old, Tommy takes a pair of scissors to his hair. With flushed cheeks and salty lips, his hands shaking and his eyes foggy, he cuts, cuts, cuts, until he can no longer braid his hair—until he can no longer look like fucking Phil.

Even though Wilbur had once said he hated Tommy’s long hair—hated how similar he and their dad looked—he felt like crying as he ran his fingers through the uneven strands. He didn’t tell his brother this though, instead grabbing his face and planting a wet kiss on his freckled forehead. In a fierce whisper, Wilbur had said, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Tommy. So fucking proud.”

Tommy never forgets the way he felt that day. He doesn’t forget Wilbur’s words either.

—

When Wilbur loses his last life, Technoblade tells Tommy to braid his hair.

It wasn’t a question either, but a demand forced out between gritted teeth, his face red, his nose stuffy and his lashes wet with unshed tears. Still, his words were clear as day.

“Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

Tommy sniffled, but did as he was told.

Maybe it was because he was too tired to argue with the only person he even had left. Maybe it was because he could tell Technoblade was mad at their father for the first time in his life, and he knew how bad his first time had felt. Or, maybe, it was just because he knew Techno fucking cared. Nobody else seemed to, but he knew Techno did and...that was enough for him.

As long as someone else cared—as long as it was fucking Technoblade—that was enough for him.

Just as Tommy had finished the braid, curling his finger around the light pink tail that tied the whole thing off, Techno yanked it forward. Before he could even register that the hair had left his hand, the older boy had taken an axe to the top of it, letting the rest of his hair fall around his face in uneven curls. Though it was a good ten minutes of work wasted, Tommy couldn’t say a damn thing as he watched Techno pocket the braid, muttering a thank you and heading in the direction of Wilbur’s unofficial grave.

In that moment, he felt relief for the first time in a long while.

—

Wilbur Soot was born covered in vernix and blood, weighing just barely above the seven-pound mark, and he came into the world much like he left it. Everyone had heard his cries—even if they weren’t there, even if they didn’t know him well—they had saw the way he spiraled, desperate and afraid and paranoid, searching for help, but never receiving enough.

And though he was the second child born, he left the world first, returning in a yellow sweater with a small braid tucked behind his ear. He didn’t really know why he had one, but he remembered braiding Techno’s hair and he remembered teaching Tommy how to do his own and he remembered, he remembered, he remembered the braids.

#dream smp #/dsmp #dsmp #sleepy bois inc #sbi #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza #ph1lza #fic #fics #fanfic #fanfiction #the dream smp #shit self #dami writez #/rp #dsmp fic

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perhapsthanatos · 3 years

Text

10:32 pm with yuta ♡

nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)

alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn

genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.

word count: 1400~

playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.

warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3

“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”

“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”

“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”

“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”

you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?

you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?

after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.

“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”

a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.

“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”

“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“

“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”

his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”

you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”

he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”

“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”

“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.

knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.

yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.

he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.

“get in, princess.”

and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.

“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.

“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”

you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.

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buckyskorpion · 4 years

Text

11 hours - part seven

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: hello i apologise in advance. pls dont hurt me!!! i would appreciate your feedback and your theories about where this fic is going! i hope this part isn’t too..... upsetting lmao. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist | please donate to my ko-fi!

masterlist

You believed, until now, that you walked the world seeking out dark corners and underbellies other people didn’t want to touch. That’s your job. The current case you're supposed to be working on involves a man suspected of drugging his girlfriend to take nonconsensual nudes of her and sell them to his friends while she slept. You’re well aware the world is a dangerous place.

But things look different now, in a way you never could have imagined before the Lerna. Those men were dead before you could blink, and you know life is expendable and fragile and so easy to take but it’s another thing to see it taken before your eyes. It’s another thing to take it yourself. And you know, now, why Bucky would only show you parts of his life and himself because this whole truth feels like staring directly into the sun - painfully bright, to the point where it’s all you can see and all the good things are reduced to a spotty, hazy blur.

You’re sitting in your office, at your desk where you’re trying to work but you can’t get the sound of bullet casings hitting the floor and the thunk of a knife in skin out of your head. There, in the centre of your tiny office, was where you sat on Bucky’s lap and kissed him and demanded ‘no secrets.’ Too stubborn to know he was keeping them for a reason, that maybe there are things you don't want to know after all. But you can feel his skin under your fingertips and the brush of his stubble as he kissed you, a memory you can touch, and you can’t help but think it still feels worth it. At the end of it all, if it was a choice of the Lerna happening or never having Bucky at all, you know what you’d chose.

As if he can hear you, your phone buzzes with a text from him. Joey’s at 7?

It’s already 6:30. You’re grabbing your keys and leaving the fear on your desk chair as you text him back. Sounds perfect.

It really is. Joey’s is your favourite bar, and just seeing the grimy neon sign outside makes your heart feel less heavy. This, after everything, remains the same. You still feel giddy jogging down the stairs, ready for the heady bass music to push through your chest and a whiskey apple to numb the wounds. It feels like the beginning, half-nervous half-excited to go find Bucky tucked in a booth at the back, dim purple light chiseling out his cheekbones and catching bright on his sharp smile. Back then it was innocent, if a fuck buddy hook-up could be. Now that you know you would do things for Bucky you’d never do for anyone else, that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to remove his brand from your heart- well. You skip a couple more steps as you head down into Joey’s, only a few minutes late.

You don’t slow down as you enter the bar, weaving through patrons searching for a familiar face. Now that you’re here to the urge to see him, to have him in your arms, is almost unbearable. When you do find Bucky, spinning a glass between his fingers in a nervous habit you’ve noticed he has, he feels your eyes on him immediately. He stands and you crash into him, burying your hands under his leather jacket to feel the warmth of his body against your palms. Bucky hugs you back just as harshly, the force of his embrace lifting your toes off the ground. When he pulls away his runs a hand over your head, down your hair, coming to rest by the side of your neck as if to check your pulse and make sure you’re really there.

“You ok?” he asks, bright blue eyes now dark and hooded as he stares down at you.

You nod, unwilling to let go of your grip on the back of his t-shirt even as he pulls away, and say, “Am now.”

“Need to talk to you, it’s important,” Bucky says. He escapes your grip with ease, because he’s huge and strong and it’s easy to forget that when he softens for you. He sits at the booth and you slide in across him, watching as he downs the rest of the straight whiskey in his glass like its water. That bad feeling is back, like back at Steve’s tattoo shop, but you don’t want it here. You fumble for Bucky’s hand across the table, and he lets you hold it but it doesn’t stop the dread settling heavy in your gut. You squeeze his fingers tighter, just in case.

“Is everything alright?” you ask. “Are we- did the cops find out-“

“No, no,” Bucky says, shaking his head down at the table. His gaze catches on your intwined fingers, the glint of his signet rings in the dim bar light, and says, “The cops aren’t the problem.”

“But there is a problem,” you say, and now Bucky raises his eyes to look at you.

“I need to tell you something, it’s important” Bucky says, again, and the dread rises from your stomach like bile to your throat. “You have to understand this, so you can see that I’m not- that this isn’t just-“

“Bucky.” He lets out a ragged breath as you cut him off mid ramble, scrubs a hand through his hair. You hate the way your voice wobbles when you say, “You’re scaring me.”

You almost make yourself laugh as those words leave your mouth. This scares you? Bucky, frustrated and nervous and clinging to your hand like a lifeline, but when he walked over lifeless bodies he sunk bullets into with a giant rifle on his back - that was just fine.

“You know when we were at Steve’s, and we were talking about Hydra? About Rumlow? Do you remember that?” Bucky asks. He stares at you like he’s imploring you to say it for him, whatever it is he’s struggling to say, but you don’t understand.

You nod slowly and say, “Natasha said Rumlow had it out for you. You said Hydra is your biggest rival.”

“Yes, right,” Bucky says, nodding a bit manically. He’s still gripping your hand tight. “Rumlow hated me, and as far as we can tell - or Nat, I guess, she’s been looking into it - he was acting on his own, to get to me.”

“That’s good, right?” You don’t feel sure, with the way Bucky is acting and looking at you all glassy-eyed. “No big gang war, or whatever.”

“I need you to understand why Rumlow hated me, because it’s not just- it wasn’t just about him, ok?” Bucky says, and now he’s looking around the room like that night in your office. Casing the bar, looking for exits. “He’s dead, but none of this died with him.”

“What is ‘this’?” you ask, and wonder for the first time, do I want to find out?

“The first time I met Rumlow was in the hospital, a couple of days after I got back from Afghanistan,” Bucky says. “I’d been honourably discharged, my arm was all fucked up and fried from a chem bomb and I lost all sensation in it so they sent me home. I remember I was lying in the bed looking out the window, and it was snowing. I hadn’t been anywhere but a desert in so long and I was like, what do I do know? I don’t own a coat anymore. I’m a black ops sniper, that’s not exactly a transferrable skill - can’t even put it on a resume because it’s classified. My arm’s fried and ugly lookin’. I’m fucked.”

“You must’ve been so scared,” you say. Bucky meets your eyes, and you can see it haunting him in the back of them - so much heat and fire and pain left behind, so much cold and unknown and pain lying in front. Your dad has told you a similar story, when he came back from Iraq, and he had the same look in his eyes Bucky does right now.

“I was,” he says, and you squeeze his fingers. He looks towards your hands again and says, “I was, and they knew it.”

“Hydra,” you say, and you know you’re right. Bucky nods anyway.

“Rumlow came into my hospital room and told me, Hydra helps guys like me. They helped him and look - he’s got a job and money and friends and a team again. A purpose. But I said no. I’m black ops, I know shady guys when I seem ‘em and Rumlow reeked of it. Just, Hydra doesn’t like being told no.”

“They target vulnerable, traumatised vets in hospitals?” you ask, disgusted. You can taste the hate that boils up, and that ugly, angry part picturing Bucky lying in a bed so alone and afraid and imagining someone like Rumlow trying to take advantage of him like that - that ugly part says I’m glad he’s dead.

“They’re highly trained and easily moulded,” Bucky says in way of answer, and you shudder at the thought. “But seem Rumlow failed and it was my fault. He failed over and over again every time they sent him to recruit me. So he hated me, and then I started the Commandos with Steve and Sam and Nat to target them. The only way to save the next poor bastard like me from ending up with Hydra is to end them, except there ain't a cop in the city who can touch them.”

“But you can,” you say, and you know it’s stupid but your heart has never been known as terribly smart, so you add, “Bucky, that’s dangerous.”

He smiles, small but it’s there, and he rubs his thumb over your knuckles as he says, “I know, doll. I don’t know if you know this about me, but stupid’s kinda my thing.”

“Very funny,” you say, rolling your eyes at Bucky’s cheeky grin now splitting his face. As quick as it came, though, his smile dies and so does the small spark of hope that maybe this story has a happy ending.

“I’ve made Hydra my enemy and I can’t change that. I don’t want to,” Bucky says, nodding solemnly at his own words and you watch him physically turn cold, stony and distant in the space of a second. “But that means that as long as Hydra is around, they’re going to be coming after me. First Rumlow, but it won’t stop there. They’ll come and keep coming and what if, one time, I don’t get there in time? Or you don’t get to leave your phone on, or even make it to a location before they shoot you in the back of the car?”

“No,” you say. You’re not stupid, you know where this is going and just- no. Bucky is being deliberately harsh, speaking loud and unfiltered to try and make it easier to do what he’s about to do but you won’t let him. That dread turned bile has now turned into straight, acidic fire pumping through veins and it hurts.

Bucky smiles faint and sad, says, “You said it yourself - it’s dangerous no matter what.”

“That's not what I meant,” you say, shaking your head vehemently, wildly, as if you can physically shake Bucky of this stupid idea and the actual pain you’re in just entertaining this conversation. “You know that’s not what I meant, what are- you asked me to stay, Bucky. You asked me, and now you want-“

“I know, I know,” Bucky says, tugging your hand close to him now but it’s your turn to try and pull away, albeit unsuccessfully. “I know and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you almost died. Do you understand that? They would have killed you, and the only reason is me.”

“That’s such bullshit,” you say, trying and failing to pull your hand free of his grip but he isn’t letting go now and the death-grip he has on you, tethering you to him even as he pushes you away, makes your eyes sting with ugly tears.

“It’s not,” Bucky says, so sad, and you just want to kiss that guilt away for him even still, even as your heart is breaking under his fist. “You will always be in danger until the day comes where I can’t protect you, and I won’t do that to you. I can’t, I can’t be the reason you get hurt.”

“You can’t protect me if you’re not around,” you say, so soft you can barely be heard over Joey’s house music but honestly, you might as well be completely alone for how little you care about the bar around you.

“The safest place for you is away from me,” Bucky says, and that makes you laugh. Humourless, fucking painfully, but you laugh and Bucky glares so dark you’re reminded of the look in his eyes when he stared down at Rumlow’s body bleeding out on the ground. Through gritted teeth he says, “You think I would do this if there was any other way?”

“There is another way,” you say, glaring right back. “There’s not being a coward about it, Bucky. You lead a dangerous life, I get it. Believe me, I fucking get it, and I chose to stay. Ok? I wanna be here anyway, so why does my choice not matter to you? Is this some stupid excuse to get rid of me?”

“Don’t say that,” Bucky all but growls, and you should be scared. He’s scary, Bucky is dangerous by his own admission but you refuse to be afraid of him. Even when he’s trying to force you to be, holding your hand too tight and dragging you around the booth so he can pin you to the seat and you both know the only way you can move is if he lets you. As if he thinks he can scare you away from him, if he can’t reason you to go.

“I don’t care how dangerous it is,” you say into his seething face, inches from yours, teeth bared in a truly terrifying snarl as he pins you to the leather in a show of strength that will leave bruises tomorrow. “I don’t wanna be away from you.”

For half a moment, you really think Bucky is going to hit you. He moves so fast, and you’ve never seen his face look like that - hurt and angry and upset and half-insane all at once. But he just presses his forehead to yours, closes his eyes and breathes you in, and for another half a moment you get to think, maybe he’ll change his mind.

“You’re all I want,” Bucky breathes, so soft and quiet you almost don’t hear him if it wasn’t said almost directly into your skin. “But that’s selfish.”

“I don’t care,” you say, like a mantra now, or a prayer. Just hoping he’ll hear you, “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.”

“You should,” Bucky says, and pulls away from you just as fast as he came in. “I won’t be the reason you end up dead.”

Bucky sits before you like a solid brick wall - unbreakable, immovable, cold and blank. His eyes are shuttered from you and you know there’s no way to get to him now. There’s nothing else you can say. If you aren’t enough for him to push past his fear and love you anyway, nothing you say is going to change his mind. Just because you know it’s true doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though, as you sit there boxed in by this menacing stranger looking at you in a way you never want to be looked at again. Like he already doesn’t know you. Like you’ve already been forgotten.

“This was always gonna happen, wasn’t it?” you ask, more to yourself than to Bucky. You laugh at his silence, the flat set of his mouth and clenched fists on his thighs. Maybe if you never went to that first party at Natasha’s house and remained at arms length, sneaking out his window and never staying the night, then maybe you could’ve had him just a little bit longer. But you didn’t, and now you’re hurt in a way you’ve never been before. Your dad never prepared you to survive a pain like this.

You slide out the other side of the booth, tripping slightly as you climb to unsteady feet. It’s hard to see through unshed tears but you don’t bother looking back at Bucky still sat in the booth. You weave through people just as fast as when you came in, but for the opposite reason now - you can’t leave behind this dim-lit bar painted with the gorey tatters of your heart fast enough.

When you emerge onto the street you know Bucky has followed you, his hulking presence palpable behind you as you stand on the sidewalk and try and calm your rapid heartbeat. You’re surprised its still beating with how much it hurts, especially when Bucky places a hand on your shoulder and cracks your heart neatly in two. He says, softly under New York traffic, “Let me drive you home. Please.”

Instead of asking why, why does he care, why does he want to, if the safest place is away from you then leave me alone, what you say is a mildly whiny, “You don’t know where I live.”

“I’ll put the address in my phone,” Bucky says, calm and low as if to placate you but you’re well past that point now. You’re crying openly on the street like a lunatic as Bucky gently takes your hand and leads you towards his bike, manhandles you onto it, clicks a helmet on over your head. It feels cruel for him to be this soft after so ruthlessly tearing you apart, but you suppose it’s better than being left alone in the street like he never cared at all.

When you pull up to your apartment building Bucky kills the engine and leans in close to you before you have a chance to jump off and run away. You think, surely he’s not about to kiss me right now and you really hate the part of you that hopes he does, but he doesn’t. He just leans in close and whispers into your helmet, “They could be watching your place, after what happened. I’m so sorry.”

You close your eyes. Bucky’s right, this will never stop, but that doesn’t mean you want to face it alone. Your whole life has been carved out for you only, but just once you thought maybe you could live it with someone else. That’s not a life for you to have, it seems, so you take a deep breath through snotty tears and nod, say, “I can handle it,” because you know you can. You’ll have to.

“I think-“ Bucky starts but falters, bites his lip blanched white before continuing, “They might leave you alone if you make it clear I’m not in your life anymore.”

“You can’t ask me to do that,” you say, and all the resolve you just gathered is shattered as instantly as you found it. You’re crying again because fuck, nothing has ever hurt like this has, from the inside where you can’t find it or heal it or stop it so it just sucks the life out of you one painful second at a time.

“You have to, honey,” Bucky says, and you want to punch him for it. The way he talks to you like he loves you, like he cares, but he can’t if he’s making you do this. Break your own heart to save his. “Scream at me, send me away. They won’t need to target you then.”

“You’re cruel,” you say, pulling away from him. You don’t want to touch him anymore, can’t stand to be this close so you trip off the bike and stumble down the street. Bucky stares after you, his own eyes teary and face screwed up in genuine pain. It could never compare to the sick feelings in your stomach as you take a deep breath and scream, “Go away, Bucky. Fucking leave me alone and never come back or I’ll fucking kill you, you hear me? Fuck off, and don’t come back.”

You can’t help the sob that rips from you, threatening to buckle your knees and break you right on the sidewalk. Bucky is looking at you like you’ve just stuck a knife in his chest but he asked you to, he keeps asking and taking and it’s always you that ends up hurt. You leave him on the street, stumble up the stairs to your apartment and sink to the floor as soon as the door clicks shut behind you. It’s dark in your apartment, nothing but streetlights outside casting shadows on furniture he never touched, but it still feels like he’s haunting you just the same.

Bucky’s bike revs to life and he tears away, the sound ripping straight through and down the street. It leaves you hollowed out, a burnt-through husk curled up on your hardwood floor. You know you’ll never hear that sound again.

****

For your entire life it’s always been you against the world. The only person you could ever trust is yourself, the only one who’s going to look out for you is you and you can’t remember a time where you didn’t think this way. Maybe it’s nature, maybe it’s nurture, but it’s how you’ve always seen the world.

However, you’re only now starting to feel what being truly alone is actually like.

Bucky’s contact lies open on your phone, but you don’t press call. You won’t. He pushed you away for your own ‘safety,’ for his own fear, and you’ll have to learn to live with his choice. Even though you still love him and always will, you can’t have him and you’ll just have to be ok with that. So you leave this contact photo up on your phone, resting on your coffee table beside your open laptop. You’ve got the input feed of the bug you planted in your dad’s kitchen open, chunky headphones on, scrolling through the audio from the past few days since you’d last seen him.

Your heart is broken by the first man you’ve ever let into your life and the only other person who knows you and who you trust, you’re currently spying on. Now, for the first time, you truly have no one left.

Focusing on work has always been an escape for you, and even when your life is in pieces around you and your heart looks no different, work still pulls through. Even if that work is your own father and the inane conversations he has with himself about the baseball teams on TV, or the calls he makes to his vet friends, or the late-night renditions of ABBA songs you remember well from your childhood. A file lies open on your coffee table with your father’s name on it and pages of notes you’ve made from nearly one hundred hours of audio recordings. You hope beyond hope that you’re just paranoid, and that this time when you go digging you don’t find anything at all.

The only thing you’ve noticed so far is your dad makes a lot of phone calls. They’re long, with a lot of names thrown around you don’t recognise as being his friends or anyone from work he’s mentioned to you before. You write them all down to look up later, but you’ve got to go meet a client so you shut everything down and collect your notes in the file. You hide them, just in case, and grab your leather jacket before you leave. You still have rent to pay. The world goes on around you despite everything being turned upside down, almost as if Bucky never happened at all.

You leave via the back of the building, to come out onto the street closest to the subway station. Usually smokers hang out around there so you aren’t surprised to see two men leaning against the wall, but you are surprised when they star following you down the alley. At this point you’re an old hand at being followed, and the petty part of you brain thinks in Bucky’s direction, see? Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not, dumbass. You sigh to yourself and plan to give them the run around once you clear the alley, but you don’t get a chance to.

From behind you hear a couple of solid thunks, a groan, a muttered curse from one of the men and then one final thunk before silence. You turn around, half afraid of who you’re going to meet once you do and half annoyed because you think you might know who it is. Sure enough, standing there in her leather jacket and a rusted metal pipe from the dumpster in her grip, is Natasha.

She blows a stray strand of hair out of her face and says, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“So he’ll break up with me but will still have me followed,” you say, folding your arms over your chest. Natasha shrugs and you mutter, “Figures.”

“I am always the first to say James is an idiot,” Natasha says, twirling the pipe like a baton in her delicate hands. She grins at you and says, “James is an idiot.”

“I’m aware,” you grit out, glaring at the red-head. “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure you don’t end up as Hydra mince-meat,” Natasha says, “What does it look like?”

“Doing whatever Bucky says even when it’s stupid,” you say. Natasha doesn’t like that, her bright grin dropping into a scowl as she steps up to you. Small, but with a clearly lethal weapon in her hands if the unconscious bodies behind her are anything to go by, she jabs the tip of the pipe into your chest and forces you a step backwards.

“James always has good intentions, even if his logic is sometimes flawed.” She drops the pipe, letting it clang to the floor between you as if to punctuate her saying, “Besides, James didn't tell me to do anything. I volunteered.”

“Why?” you ask, sneering slightly. “I think we both know you don’t trust me, or like me, and you make it very hard to like you.”

Natasha smiles at that, and you hate the face she makes every time you say something she ‘approves’ of - condescending, like she doesn’t expect you to have brain cells and is surprised every time you do. She says, very solemn despite the smile in her eyes, “I owe you.”

That makes you pause. Instantly, like you’re right back in that bar. You can see her groaning body struggling to stand after being thrown into a wall. Rumlow pointing a gun at her back, the blood-thirst emanating off him in waves. Your own hand, as if detached from your body, flinging the knife across the room into his neck before he can put a bullet in Natasha’s.

You swallow thickly, shake your head and say, “No you don’t.”

“I do,” she insists. She steps forward with her hand out, beckoning her fingers like she wants you to hand her something. You just stare at her empty palm for a few seconds before she clicks her tongue and says, “Phone.”

You hand it over without thinking, which was definitely stupid. But Natasha just types away quickly before giving it back and you see you have a new contact with her name attached entered into your phone.

“If you ever need anything,” she says, and taps your phone screen with her nail, “call me.”

It was only minutes ago you were sitting on your couch scrolling through audio from your tapped father’s kitchen thinking you’ve never been more alone in your life. Yet here you are, looking at a helping hand outstretched from the last person you expected it to come from. Your fingers shake slightly as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, and Natasha smiles at you like she understands.

“Thank you,” you say, and you hope she knows you genuinely do mean it.

Natasha nods, then says, “Get out of here, alright? I have to clean this up.”

You suppose that’s Natasha speak for ‘your welcome,’ so you leave her to it. The whole client meeting you can’t focus properly, too busy trying to decide if you feel safer or more afraid at having one of the scariest women you know watching your apartment. By the end of the day, your conclusion is that if Natasha is going to be in your life, its probably best she’s on your side rather than against it.

When you get home that afternoon there is no sign of the two guys Natasha knocked out, nor is she anywhere to be seen. You can’t help but feel watched, though, as you enter your building and climb the stairs. She’s a busy woman and you know she can’t be watching you all the time but you still feel her green eyes on the back of your neck - its not an altogether uncomfortable sensation. That’s something to unpack later, you think, as you collapse on the couch.

You try to resist, but as soon as you sit down and close your eyes the urge to forget about the case you’ve just taken on and look into your own hunches grows too strong. You get up again and fish out your dad’s file again from your hiding place, bringing it back to the couch to flip open. The list of names you’ve been compiling is at the top, scribbled in messy handwriting as you listened to your dad’s one-sided conversations. You tallied up how many times the same name had been mentioned and in what context, however it had been hard to decipher what your dad was talking about with only half the story.

You decide to go looking into the most mentioned name - more of a title, really. Somebody your dad calls Chief shows up in almost every single conversation he has over the phone, and when you were going through the audio it dredged up some strange, suppressed childhood memory. You used to hear him talking to guys downstairs when you were doing your homework, and you always thought he called them ‘chief’ as a nickname or weird, macho term of endearment like how kids in your class would call each other ‘bro’.

Maybe, he was only talking to one guy. You were going to find out.

Starting at your dad’s job, you scroll through their website and LinkedIn profiles to find any link to the name ‘Chief.’ He works as a security guard for a chain of clubs in the city so you are doubtful, and sure enough nothing really comes up to peak your interest. Your dad really only has one other major outlet to look into and that’s the VA, so you have to swallow past the dirty feeling of investigating suffering vets and start scrolling through the website for the Brooklyn VA group attached to the medical centre.

It’s all wholesome stuff and nothing of interest to your snooping at all until you get to a photo gallery from four years ago. It’s dedicated to commemorating the Brooklyn VA and New York Police Department workshop day promoting mental health for vets and servicemen. There are a bunch of photos of group activities and the lunch put on by the VA, and you spot your dad in a couple of them. You’re about to click off when you find one where your dad is posed with another vet and a very official, very dressed up cop. Nothing you haven’t seen at least forty of before in this gallery, but it’s the caption which makes you pause.

It reads, Some of the Brooklyn VA’s finest with NY Chief of Police. It has to be a coincidence, the man’s job title and nothing more. He’s tall, broad, with sandy blonde hair turning grey under his police hat. There are more medals than you can count pinned to his uniform and even in this grainy photo you can tell he would squash your dad like an ant if he gave the Chief of Police a reason to. You’ve never paid attention to this before, steering clear of cops whenever you can, but you find yourself googling him as soon as you can pull yourself away from his mile-long stare.

As soon as the NYPD profile on the Chief of Police loads, your blood turns to ice. You want to say you’re crazy, you’re crazy, you’re paranoid, but name one time your paranoia had led you wrong? Two strange coincidences don’t happen back to back, no matter how disconnected they may appear. Two worlds you never thought you would know, let alone be watching them collide, stare up at you from your computer screen. You can hear Steve’s voice like he’s sitting right next to you, saying “It is strange we haven’t heard anything from Pierce,” and right under a professional portrait of the Chief of Police is his name burning into the back of your eyelids - Alexander Pierce.

You shove your laptop onto the coffee table and stand, pacing back and forth in front of your couch. Scraping a hand through your hair and pulling half of it out of your head in the process, you try to reason your way out of connecting these dots. They’re barely dots, their echoes of dots - so your dad took a photo with the Chief of Police four years ago and he refers to someone he knows as ‘Chief’ as a nickname and Steve mentioned Pierce was someone in Hydra and the Chief of Police happened to be named Alexander Pierce. So what, right?

“Ok, ok, ok, ok,” you say to yourself, rushed and manic. You’ll just ask your dad. He’s your dad, he was never supposed to hide anything from you so why would he start now? If you just ask he might-

You don’t get to finish your thought. Three loud knocks ring through your empty apartment, your doorbell chiming impatiently straight afterwards. You stare at the door with your heart in your throat, long enough for them to ring the doorbell again and a loud, male voice to call out your full name. Someone you don’t recognise, yet they know where you live. You approach the door on silent feet and look through the peephole, reaching for the baseball bat you keep behind a pot plant as you do.

Standing outside are two men in suits, one of whom is looming at the peephole and making stupid faces while his college rolls his eyes and attempts to hold him back. Through the door, you ask, “Who is it? What department are you with?”

“I’m Special Detective James Rhodes and this is my partner, Special Detective Tony Stark,” the unimpressed cop says, elbowing his colleague out of the way who is still trying to look through the wrong side of the peephole. Holding up a badge and gesturing for his partner to do the same, Detective Rhodes says, “We’re with the FBI, ma’am.”

“Shit,” you say, before realising you said that out loud. Your hand feels numb where you grip your baseball bat tightly, and you decide in that moment you have to be dreaming. No way has the events of the past fifteen minutes taken place.

The guy who must be Detective Stark laughs and says, “Shit is right. Let us in, ma’am, we need to ask you some questions.”

You look back at the coffee table laden with copious notes on your father and your open laptop, Chief of Police Alexander Pierce’s face staring back at you. An omen, you think, but it would be even more suspicious if you asked them to wait to clean everything up. Your heart-stopping, life-changing, maybe-discovery will have to wait.

You slide off the chain and unlock your deadbolt, opening the door for the two FBI agents. They walk in without another word, and it really hits you then. It doesn’t matter what Bucky does now, if he leaves you and never comes back or if he never left at all - you’re in this, now. And now you’ll pay the price.

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