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tteokdoroki · 3 years

Text

an ode to winter | dabi.

♡ pairing: dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 14.1K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: manga war arc!au, single-parent!au, unplanned pregnancy!au, angst, fluff, smut.

♡ summary: touya todoroki had broken a lot of things, your heart, promises, your window a few times, but you swore he'd never leave your child feeling that way. but when he wants back into your life, will he take no for an answer? And do you even want to say it?

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, ( literally 5k of it ), MANGA SPOILERS IN THE EXTENDED ENDING, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of semi-toxic!relationships, struggling with parenting, blackmail ??, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, losers ), handjobs, oral sex ( female receiving ), fingering ( female receiving ), choking, branding, squirting, spit!kink, needy touya lol <3

♡ author’s note(s): OK so this started out as a fic for my bestie @ozzy-bozzy but then turned into this long ass vent fic bc i do be struggling!! i’ve barely written for touya so apologies if his character is off. special thanks to @bakugous-trauma for beta reading n @doinmybesthere for the summary and beta reading and thanks for 4.7K MWAH <3

♡ masterlist | requests

the snow had fallen heavy that day, its flakes dancing along the window panes while you’d brought her into the world. you hated the cold, the way it nipped at your nose and stung at your cheeks, how it could freeze over a heart so badly that it would take years to thaw it out. you’d complained about the ice sheets that frosted your windows to the doctors, the ones on the roads too, but they’d simply wrote it off as your anxieties related to bringing kori home for the first time in such weather.

funnily enough, your daughter much resembled the cold in many ways. you’d named her ‘kori’; meaning ice, since her hair was white as the crisp blanket of winter outside and her eyes a piercing shade of aqua marine, that for a while, had no meaning written behind them except for a cool curiosity that you knew didn’t come from your side of the family. she wasn’t warm either, the first time you held her, her flesh against yours was almost a painful spark of frostbite— you expected that it was related to the lineage she came from too.

you thought that you’d resent kori when she was born; for the struggles that her new life had brought to you. you’d given birth alone and afraid, having lost friends and contact with your family due to keeping your pregnancy a secret. if they had known who caused you to end up in this situation in the first place, you were sure you’d have lost them all anyways. you hadn’t a chance to attend maternity classes due to the hours you worked in order to ensure yourself and your child’s financial security. although, prior to her arrival, dabi had told you that if you chose to give your daughter the todoroki name; you both would be looked after when the right time came.

and like a fool in love, you’d believed him, avoiding the apologetic gazes of the doctors and midwives who’d delivered your baby as you filled out her paperwork and birth certificate. one nurse even asked you if you wanted to contact endeavour for support, and you couldn’t blame her— the rumours of your child potentially being that of natsuo todoroki’s had spread fast through the hospital and it was a given, figuring his bad boy college reputation. natsuo and his ventures into the college life were no stranger to the media, so it didn’t surprise you nor the doctors to believe that this wasn’t the first time a girl had given birth alone to a todoroki child. you suspected that if there were any, enji todoroki would have paid them off.

so you let them believe what ever false truth that might have plagued the hospital walls about yourself and your daughter— not having the heart to tell them that you’d probably receive a much larger sum of money to keep hush about the child that you mothered and the child who’s father belonged to endeavour’s deceased, eldest son.

so you realised, thumb held by the chubby hand of your sweet infant girl; that you couldn’t hate her for the mistakes you’d made and the mess you’d become tangled up in— you could only promise to do your best in raising her despite the odds and difficult circumstances, you could give her the life and childhood that her father never had but most certainly deserved.

“miss yn...”

your midwife; himari enters the room, calling for you— tearing your gaze away from the hypnotising sea-foam eyes belonging to your daughter, the way she looked at you only reminding you of dabi. you’d told him once that his eyes always took you to the mediterranean sea, to which he’d laughed and mentioned you’d never seen it before. when the pair of you realised that this was true, the boy with the black hair and intoxicating stare made an oath to you, that he would take you there someday so you could bask in the warm sun and dip your toes into the clear oceans. you only hoped that this oath still remained true.

“miss yn...” himari tries again, this time stepping further into your hospital room. your thoughts had carried you so far away that you hadn’t realised how close she’d gotten as she lingered by your cot. her hands lay flat against her pale blue uniform, nails you note—neatly trimmed— and a smile that would have made you feel comfortable had you not known she’d volunteered to care for you because she too believed she’d be paid off by endeavour. you almost felt bad that she thought the silly lie was true and that she had a shot at a big time bonus but it was funny to think that no one would believe her when she eventually took to the news to claim that she cared for the next heir of the todoroki empire. “it’s says here, that kori is scheduled for feeding— i was wondering if you wanted to continue breast feeding or try pumping a bottle or two today?”

chewing on the inside of your cheek, you hum with hesitance. feeding kori was something you’d never discussed with dabi, some of the nurses had assured you that it was possible for you to do both— so that you could grow closer to your daughter and form a tight bond whilst also giving the opportunity to others to feed her when need be. there weren’t many others, but you figured that dabi might want to give bottle feeding a whirl when he finally returned from the league business. the business that had made him miss his little girl’s birth.

kori gargles from hunger in your arms, drawing your attention back to her tiny form. a stray strand of hair curls against her forehead from underneath her blankets and swaddling— the end you notice has a slight tint of red to it. the icy shell around your heart thaws. glancing back up to himari; you grin with a decision in mind. “i’d like to try breast feeding again, we can use the pump tomorrow.” you say, voice quiet.

“do you need any help getting her to latch?” your midwife asks, aiding you into a comfortable position to feed kori.

“no,” you smile after getting settled, pushing down your gown to expose your breast to your little girl. “i’ve got her, i can take care of her.”

you say the words more so to yourself than to himari, a hidden reassurance that you’re more than capable of raising your daughter on your own.

for now at least.

that winter, dabi never came home.

the snow melts, the flowers bloom and the seasons change. your daughter grows with the swift transition of the weathers too, her hair is a little longer now but the small curl of red against her forehead remains hidden and the same. her eyes open wider, still that deep shade of ocean blue, she can sit up on her own, throws toys out of her crib and her favourite movies are bambi and bambi two. they’re the only things that she watches, which you hate, because they remind you of her. an innocent child who loses one parent and is left in the care of the emotionally closed off other.

you hadn’t realised how much you would need dabi, but still he is nowhere to be seen.

raising kori on your own proves a challenge, especially now that she’s a little bigger— it was easy after she was born; she was quiet and only made a fuss when she was hungry or needed to be changed. went down easy too, that was until her wails reared their ugly head as soon as the colder parts of winter hit. no matter what you did, the girl would cry for hours on end until her face would hurt from how scrunched it was and her fingers would turn red from the grip she had on your hands.

since her birth, you and kori had to move three times due to the noise complaints about her consistent crying throughout the day, evening and night. by the time february rolled around, you’d ended up in an apartment not so far from dabi’s old neighbourhood— it was a shitty area with high crime rates and an eerie feel to it that made you clutch your purse tighter when you walked home from the late night shifts— you had never had any intentions to raise kori in a dump like this, you wanted a better life for her than what dabi had, but your shabby two bedroom apartment in the dark side of town would be enough for now.

the rent was cheap since your current boss at the local grocers market was close friends with the building manager, but your boss was also a sleaze who thought offering you an extra 10% off of your weekly shop and an expired coupon for the coffee joint down the street would be enough to get into your pants. he was just another thing on your list that you hated about the world, about the current life you lead but you needed to keep him close to keep your rent low and a roof over your head.

besides, it had been a few days since you last saw him at work— the asshole was probably taking a few days to himself while you and your colleagues practically ran the store.

you can’t leave kori with a sitter; they never worked with her. your daughter was far too temperamental for the average person and would spend one night with her before taking their pay and quitting. the only person able to handle your beloved little girl was the old lady who lived two floors above yours, mrs. yamamoto. she was a sweet woman, widowed by fifteen years and had taken a liking to kori that one time you’d helped with her groceries when she couldn’t make it out in the february winter after your little girl was born.

it seemed kori liked mrs yamamoto as well, she was only ever quiet in the woman’s presence and you put it down to how high she had the heat up in her apartment. one time, it was up so high the power in the building went out for an entire night— which was hell for you since kori wouldn’t stop bawling. however; you appreciated the help, you’re sure that without the help of the elder woman you would have been far under the surface— drowning in regret.

but sometimes, it’s easy for the darker emotions to slip through the cracks— take a choke hold over your sanity. there would be nights where guilt would consume you and tears would flow heavily down your cheeks while your daughter slept. it was hard being alone, no one to confide in about the troubles of parenting or to reassure you that you were doing a good job at taking care of your child.

it didn’t help that winter was coming up again, kori’s first birthday fast approaching. the sudden milestone only made you wish that dabi was around more — it hurt you to know that there was possibility he’d run out on you and his responsibilities as a father but part of you believed that your lover was better. the eldest todoroki son appeared way too excited throughout your pregnancy to leave you with nothing.

despite not being able to make it to appointments due to his criminal nature, dabi had somehow manged to find the money to get you a 4D ultra sound of your baby, telling you a few odd jobs here and there allowed him to scrape the cash together. you never asked what it was that he did, afraid of what you might find in the eyes of the man that you loved so much.

why did you allow yourself to love a man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day if he hadn’t broken into your home? his seafoam eyes a glowing shade as he threatened your life through shards of broken glass and then wails of cop sirens outside. were you just as broken as he? had you not realised it yet? you could blame this whole mess on the fact that he kept coming back, but you always let him back in. dabi was a broken man who only knew blood and grit and grime and you were the girl with a chance to lead a normal life— yet you poured all of your heart and all of your soul into loving him because you were so sure that you could fix him.

and every single time you’d convinced him, convinced yourself that what you had could be normal and domestic— dabi would slip between your sheets, pinning you to your bed with your name heavy on your lips and the emotion of love painted into the turquoise flecks in his eyes. they burned with passion while his heated cock sunk between your plush thighs and welcomed him into your warmth. the moans you’d share while your skin slapped together, creating a bubble of safety where you were the only two people on the world.

dabi made promises against your swollen lips as his fingers swirled hidden messages of desire into your slick, puffy clit. he couldn’t give you the ring, the wedding or the house with the white picket fence and dog barking at the post man in the front yard— but he could give you every part of him from the good to the bad, the beautiful to the ugly and he would seal that promise with a throaty groan of ‘you are mine and i am yours...’ into your ear as you came together.

but it seemed that like all things, dabi’s promises were broken like shattered glass— never meant to be kept or eternalised. the shards cut your delicate fingers, the pain numbed as you were left to pick up the pieces and be strong for the small life you were now responsible for.

you were careful to not let the door fly in and hit the wall opposite as you unlocked it, stumbling into your two bedroom with kori’s chubby legs locked around your hips and bag full of groceries in your other hand. “look princess,” you coo down at your daughter sweetly, watching as she drools all over your staff lanyard from work. “we’re home!” bending down, you dropped the produce off by the door before heading off to your living room area, propping kori in front of her toy mat.

smiling down at her, you brush the pure white hair that curls over her cobalt eyes and kiss her freckled cheeks— heart swooning at the way kori giggles in your arms. she’d been on her best behaviour the entire week, keeping out of trouble with the staff at her daycare and mrs yamamoto in the place upstairs, so it was only right that you treat her.

“you hungry babygirl? want mommy to make your favourite, hm?” kori is barely old enough to talk aside from a few babbles and repeats of mama but that doesn’t stop you from asking.

“mmmamamamaa!!”

you press another kiss to her baby fat cheeks before heading to the kitchen to prepare her favourite dinner— spaghetti. ever since kori started eating her solids, she hadn’t been a picky eater and you noticed that her appetite much resembled dabi’s, who couldn’t afford to be fussy about any of the meals you’d made for him before he disappeared.

making the sauce is easy, a dish you’d prepared from when you were a child and used to cook with your parents— you retrieve the ingredients from the groceries and pull out the stuff you’ll need to cook them. you mince the vegetables easily like you’d been taught as your mind gets away from you.

you wish that dabi was here to enjoy the domesticity of your current life— maybe him being around would lift the dark cloud over your life. sometimes it hurt to know that he would be missing out on moments like this and you could imagine him sitting by the couch while kori played with her toys and you cooked for them both. in this world, he’d laugh at her fascination with colder toys and magnets— make a joke about how much your little girl resembles him and kiss your cheek when you served them both up their favourite meals.

tears pool in your eyes at the thought of your wish never being granted and that’s all it takes for you to slip and cut your finger while chopping up the garlic. “fuck!” you boss, dropping the knife and squeezing your hand around the wounded digit. you know that the clattering of the knife has scared kori, and from the way she looks at you, you can already tell that she’s seen you injure yourself. “god, fuck...that hurt.”

there’s a pause in time, while you rinse your cut under the tap, cold water soothing the sting before kori starts to wail like her life depends on it. in a rush, you grab a tea towel in hopes that it’ll stop the bleeding and head straight for your baby, hoping that you’ll be able to soothe her. by the time you reach kori, her eyes are red with tears and snot dribbles from her nose down to her chin while she babbles loosely all the new words she’s learned— in a whiny tone.

“baby, don’t cry mommy’s got you,” you murmur to her, reaching out to the little girl with open arms. your heart breaks at the way her bottom lip wobbles in a watery pout. kori crawls into your arms, white mop of soft baby hair buried into the junction between your shoulder and your neck— her tiny body shakes with awful heaves and cries while her tears dampen the old hoodie of her father’s that you wear, effectively ruining the fabric. “come on honey, it’s okay! momma didn’t mean to scare you...”

she snivels in your arms, quiet for only a second while you walk around the apartment bouncing her. walking kori up and down seems to soothe her for the most part, a trick that worked when she was first born and had her horrible crying fits. “good girl, mama’s got you...” you continue to soothe her, brushing a finger under her white lashes to remove her tears. all is well for a second and it seems her tantrum has calmed, until she grabs onto your wounded finger and makes you curse in pain again.

“shit!”

“m-momma-!” kori whimpers, face creasing in pain as her cheeks start to heat up again. you fear that if you don’t do something soon she’ll bust a lung from crying.

you shake your head in an attempt to calm her down, baby sobs striking right through your body and resume bouncing her, hoping that it’ll work. “shhh kori, honey, it’s okay— mommy’s okay and so are you...” in the process of comforting her, you somehow trip over the discarded knife, sending it flying into the cabinets across from the island and making another loud noise that further spooks kori.

at this she screams bloody murder, the sound of her little chest heaving giving you a splitting headache. you were tired, tired of your daughter’s crying , working long hours with no help and raising a child all on your own. you were tired of the pain spreading through your head and your body and your heart. you needed an out or break at the very least.

you should feel guilty for what you’re about to do, heading for the nursery with a heaving baby in your grip. you can’t think of anything better to do than put kori down for a nap and hope that her crying tires her out— you do your best to pry the little girl from clinging onto your clothes and tuck her into her crib as she sniffles, quickly backing out of her room before she can call for you and make you feel even worse than you already do.

you close the door quietly behind you, somewhat sliding down it while your own sobs take over your body— shaking you violently as you hug your knees to your chest. you don’t know how long you sit there, biting your lips and holding onto in your whimpers while tears stream down the apples of your cheeks, but eventually

you find yourself drifting off with dreams of your happy family.

you jump awake a few hours later, surrounded by a thick darkness from the sky outside. the hum of the city streets helps to bring you back down to earth as you rub the sleep from your puffy eyes and blink away the exhaustion. you don’t quite remember when you’d fallen into a slumber but you figure that kori must have eventually, judging by the quietness that surrounds your apartment.

the blanket of the night allows your guilt to burn brightly in your chest— you shouldn’t have left her alone. scrambling to your feet, you stumble over to the kitchen counter and grab your phone to read the time. 11:06pm. it’s just about time that you check on your daughter, but with two steps of heading to the nursery and you’re met with foreign sound that doesn’t quite fit in with the usual creaks and squeaks of your apparent.

happy gurgles belonging to your baby creep out from underneath her bedroom door, low humming or singing to accompany her sweet sound. humming that you don’t recognise. with a pang of fear to your heart, you reach for the knife on your kitchen floor as a weapon of defence— this would go down nicely with the police. a single mother on self defence...yeah, that could work out.

the knife shakes in your hand as you approach kori’s nursery, barely steady even when you push open the door.

“...touya?”

nothing could prepare you for what you’d see after walking into that room but when your eyes fall witness to your love standing in the centre of the room with a little tuft of white hair cradled to his bare chest. the air around you tingles with warmth as if dabi has heated the place up with his quirk and your little girl curls into him as if she’s known him all her life. but she hadn’t, he hadn’t.

all at once, your heart heals just as it breaks— it’s been so long since you’ve seen the villain that you can’t help but notice all the changes in him, the way his eyes droop a little more with exhaustion and his hair dusted with a the slightest bit of white. he was noticeably thinner too, maybe from being away from a warm bed and good food for too long...so a half of you was relieved that he was home, the other— hurt and betrayed.

“hey beautiful,” dabi’s timbre voice fills your entire being, stimulating your senses into a dull tingle. his lips a drawn into soft smirk as he rocks kori back and forth, your baby’s eyes flutter with the gentle indication of sleep. “how’ya been?”

if you weren’t frozen in shock, you would have given the villain a piece of your mind. how dare he...after all this time apart from you, from his daughter...ask how you were doing? your eyes flutter to the open window behind the oldest todoroki son, as if you need to look away from him to convince yourself he’s real and he won’t disappear when you look back.

proven right by meeting the cool, chartreuse sea of his eyes— your throat runs dry as all you’d ever dreamed of saying in this moment, flees from your mind. “what are you doing here?” you say, trying to sound firm even though your voice falls through.

touya stays quiet, twirling a long finger through the small curls on his—your daughter’s head. “i was in the neighbourhood.” he mumbles, gaze tearing away from you to focus on the content infant he has in his arms.

you should feel angry, you should be screaming and kicking at dabi— forcing him out of your home with your child safe in your own arms but your body doesn’t will you to. hurt seeps through your veins at the casual aura in his tone. of course dabi would treat the situation as if it never existed and that he’d been with you the whole time. the pain of seeing him with her as if he’d been in kori’s life from the very start wraps around your heart in a poisonous grip and squeezes hard until you’re choking back a sob, letting it sit in the base of your throat.

you refuse to break in front of him.

“you need to go. you need to put her down and you need to leave.” you attempt to assert yourself in a harsh bark, almost making dabi jump. he’d never seen you like this before, but then again he hadn’t seen you in a year. he could only imagine what motherhood had done to you, especially facing it on your own. touya hesitates, kori shifting in his soft grip— one he didn’t even know that he had as a villain but you steady yourself and repeat your words. “touya, i said you need to leave.”

“why? so you can fall asleep and leave her crying on her own again?” the villain spits out, harsher than he intended. he watches your face fall and your body curl in on itself and he feels bad. dabi had promised you a lot of things since realising he loved you, and not hurting you like his father hurt his mother was one that he’d just broken. relenting, the dark haired villain eases kori from his pec and tucks her into her crib.

there’s a beat of silence and then. “i’m sorry.”

“you should be.”

“yn,” he sighs, running a hand through the light roots of his hair as he leans over his child’s crib. the young father tilts his head, scanning kori’s face while he identifies every characteristic she has from the family he’d done his best to free himself of. “i’m sorry, it’s just— just that she was cold and crying, so i took off my shirt and held her and she warmed up and—“ dabi pauses his quiet rambling, finally looking up from the slumbering baby tucked away into powder blue silk and locks eyes with you. “and she probably has my mom’s shitty quirk. and i can’t get over how much she looks like them, how big she’s gotten.”

touya finds his shirt after admitting that, throwing on the thin white material before closing the window he came through. he moves with the swiftness that comes with his job, and it’s almost peaceful to watch. you stay plastered by the door, torn between falling right into the palm of his hand and demanding the answers that you and your daughter deserve.

it makes you feel a little sick when he gazes down at kori with pride, it makes you queasy at how easy she was to handle to him. touya todoroki doesn’t know half of what it was to raise his child...but did that make you a bad mother? was there something he shared with kori that you didn’t? dabi hadn’t known what it was to love someone other than himself until he’d met you, but you’d spent your entire life around family and friends who took care of you and made you feel cherished every day. you had all of that before you had dabi, and you’d given it all up for him.

shouldn’t you be the one to easily put your daughter down for a nap? to soothe her tears? and for him to come so briskly into your lives and take care of it all when he doesn’t even know what you’d been through, hurts most of all.

“you don’t even know her,” you start, tremble to your bottom lip as the sob in your throat builds up and threatens to burst. “you never saw her after she was born, never cut the cord, never knew her weight. you don’t know how tiny she was when she came into the world, you don’t know because you didn’t come!” with each word, stray tears manage to escape from your tired eyes, but you’re too fixated on dabi to bother to wipe them. it hurts to cry, it stings even as they stream down the apples of youth cheeks but you don’t move.

“yn, sweetness, i—“

“i know how much she weighed when she was born, four pounds and thirteen ounces. she was so tiny i was scared that she would break—“ you’re gasping now, almost choking yourself out on the pain that burns brightly in your lungs and claws its way up your throat. “i know her favourite foods, what fabrics irritate her skin, her favourite stuffed toys, how she likes to be swaddled in her blankets at night or that her curls make her face itch but they’re practically untameable.”

you start to heave, losing breath with every word and dabi does nothing but watch, keeping an eye on kori to make sure she stays sleeping as he steps towards you. “i know that i love her more than i’ve loved anything in my entire life, despite how much i suffered alone bringing her into this world. and i know that i named her kori after the ice that frosted the windows of my hospital room while i waited for... you.”

touya remains emotionless while you descend into madness, letting you cry it out. “i’ve been watching...”

you want to scream, beat his chest and blame him for how insane you’ve become. “watching isn’t enough touya, she needed you. i-i needed you.” you whimper, falling limp against the door frame as your hands move threateningly towards your hair as if you’re going to rip it out from the root. “...you couldn’t come and visit? not once i-in the eleven months that she’s been alive? not once while she’s been breaking me down and giving—“

“giving you a hard time? i tried, i took care of you from afar...i’m the one who made your boss disappear. the one who put his hands on you.” dabi sneers towards the end of his once gentle words, standing a breaths width away from you. you hate that you crave the same touch from him as he gave to kori, but you’re still so mad at him.

eventually, it all becomes too much and you succumb to the tears that wrack your exhausted body. you sway with each choked wail that tumbles from between your chapped lips and dabi surges forward to catch you after kicking the knife from earlier away, letting you sink into the warmth of his embrace. he feels like home, smells like safety and not a word is uttered as he brings you to the floor and cradles you like he did with his daughter.

dabi doesn’t need to say sorry when he shows you through how close he holds you to his heart.

when you finally calm down, dabi lifts you bridal style to your bathroom and draws you a bath with the salts and lavender extract from the cupboard above the sink. neither of you speak except for when he softly offers to help you undress— to which you decline— and when he tells you he’s going to fix something to eat.

you knew damn well that the villain could not cook, he hadn’t been when he was little since endeavour took away the entirety of his childhood and you’d only taught him the basics when he was still on the run and stopped by your place from time to time. his favourite thing back then had been to watch you cook to the weird music you kept playing, hips swaying to the beat and a sparkle in your eyes— but you didn’t do that anymore, he could tell those days were long gone.

dabi orders in takeout in the end and you have half a mind to curse him out for using your money— but the day’s events have exhausted you beyond your wits end, so you eat with him in silence atop your double bed after dressing in an old shirt of his. “stay the night.” is what you tell him, scared that he’ll leave. he puts his cigarette out on your balcony. the doors usually stayed locked so kori couldn’t crawl out on her own but you opened it for him since dabi liked to smoke and you hated the ash.

he promised to quit back then, and he hadn’t now.

“i’ll stay.” dabi says, throwing the butt over the ledge and stripping his clothes as he follows you to bed. he decides not to mention he wanted to stay anyway. you peel back the covers enough for him to slip in behind you, heated arms wrapping around your waist and settling on your tummy, where he rubs small patterns into your skin. the villain’s chest is overwhelmingly warm against your back— reminding you of the days where you would spoon and he’d wait with baited breath for kori to kick.

both of you lay together, wide awake in the dark for goodness knows how long. touya’s breath balmy against the nape of your neck and if you focused hard enough, you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your skin. he pretends to sleep, refusing to acknowledge that his proximity to you affects him in the worst of ways— evident in how his prominent hard on presses against the swell of your ass.

rolling over, your heart skips a beat at the way your love’s eyes still manage to glow brightly in the dark— ignited by the flames of his quirk and emotions of angst from the past.

they flicker as he looks to you, pale skin illuminated by the silver moon slipping in from your balconies, scars as enticing as ever. tentatively, you reach a hand out to cup his face, not kidding the apprehension that paint his matured features even as you run your fingers down the scars on his jaw. “been a while since we’ve been like this,” is all you can muster up, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek while your free hand snakes between your bodies in an attempt to pleasure the man.

fear strikes you right in the chest, leaving you panting as dabi flips you onto your back quickly, pinning your wrists against the bed. “don’t,” he growls, almost feral in tone and in his eyes. “don’t do something you might regret in the morning.”

you lay still, staring at the man above you in an attempt to read him. doing so had always been hard, but tonight you can see every detail of his life and every part of him. the fear of being his father and disappointing another group of people, a broken man torn between the people he loved and the life he led— you could finally see him. you wondered if it hurt him to be away from you and his child, if he ever thought of you.

you take a deep breath, fabric of the sheets fuzzy in your ears as you shake your head up at him. “i could never regret being with you,” you sigh, dabi’s gaze lowering. “i just need you...”

your proclamation is all the permission dabi needs before he ascends on your neck, almost whimpering at the taste of your skin against his tongue. you know that he’s avoiding your lips, scared that things may not feel the same if he kisses you there— as if your love might have fizzled out from the months that you’ve been apart. the villain’s mouth is hot against your skin, sharp teeth sinking into the column of your throat— it’s not hard for him to find the spots that make your back arch and body tingle, the dark haired man would be embarrassed to admit that he had your body mapped out in his brain. you were all that he thought about in the months between then and now.

you miss his lips, but you fear that if you push your love to far he’ll clam up and withdraw from you completely. you can’t lose him while you have him now. in the meantime, your bodies press against one another hotly, burning while dabi paints shades of blue and purple deeper than his eyes against your flesh before lapping at each love bite with an odd tenderness people wouldn’t think he possessed at first glance. as he works, touya loses grip on your wrists, allowing them free roam across the expanse of his back.

your nails leave light tracks across his back, trailing up from his muscled back to the nape of his neck— curling in the white roots of his hair in an attempt to tug him up to your lips. “baby,” the old pet name tumbles from between them before you can catch yourself, laboured from where you’re short of breath. “please kiss me, please..”

with newly mussed hair, dabi is still for a moment before leaving one last mark at where your jaw meets your neck— wet tongue lolling over the fresh bruise while his large palm move back to cup your head. a thumb belonging to a scared hand runs over your bottom lip, pulling the plump flesh down while he watches your face for a reaction. “are you sure that’s what you want, beautiful?” the villain chuckles into the dark of the night, pink muscle running over his own lips to wet them in anticipation. “you want your man to kiss you?”

your senses go into overdrive, desperate for any kind of contact from the man above you— he feels so close and yet, a million miles away, even with his body making its way between your thighs and your chests pressing together eagerly.

“touya—“ you breathe, barely able to finish your sentence before the man himself delves deep into your mouth. his lips move with hesitance at first, sucking on yours slightly and parting for air more often than he should but you grip him by the whites of his hair firmly and tug him further into the kiss. your tongue dances along the seam of his lips, prying them open as you seek permission for entrance— dabi groans lowly as you tug on his roots and force your way into his mouth, tasting him as if it were your last time.

you swallow each of his moans that mingle softly with your own, while your tongues dance together messily— the kiss were and sloppy as if the two of you were out of practice. your worries fly out of the window from there, it’s good to know that neither of you had been with others during your time apart instead you feel like a teenager making out with their highschool crush for the very first time. dabi’s hips rut into the plush bed beneath you both and you can tell that even the slightest touches are riling him up beyond belief— it’d been almost a year since he’d felt you against him in any way and it didn’t help that you were so ready to accept him.

that you still wanted him.

whimpering at the thought, the villain pauses against your lips to catch his breath— panting softly. you can feel him pulling away, questioning if he deserves to be with you after everything he’d put you through. so, cupping dabi’s jaw, you let your free hand slip between your heated bodies and glide your fingertips along the waist band of his sweats.

“yn, i ain’t so sure about this,” dabi sighs, body twitching at the proximity of your hands to his hardness, his eyelids flutter shut and lock away his beautiful blue eyes— holding fear, insecurity and desire. “what if ya’still regret this later on?”

smiling up at him, you thumb at his cheek and work your hand deeper into his pants, past his underwear. “you’ve been away too long baby, i would regret not being with you more,” you coo up at him just as you grasp at his hardened length, watching as dabi shudders in your grip. his cock leaks hotly against your soft palm from going untouched for so long, your fingers explore him— tracing down the thick veins on the underside of his length. “let me make you feel good tonight.”

“fuck, sweetness. talk pretty with that filthy fuckin’ mouth of yours.” touya breathes heavily against your mouth, both of yours falling open in hot moans. cheekily, you run a thumb over his tip, circling the slit at the top. dabi collapses on top of you, burying his mop of salt and pepper hair into your neck as he drives his hips into your hand at his own leisurely pace. “y’better live up to those words—shit, don’t go letting me down, princess.” jade orbs finally open, heavy with lust and desire as the air around you tingles with a newfound desire to make each other feel good, settling on the planes of your marked and scratched skin.

your grip around dabi tightens while he fucks into your closed fist, wet sounds filling the room from where he leaks at his bright red tip— almost hot as his hands that dance up your sides and tenderly touch at your hips. so unsure, yet so needy. clear, thick precum guides the movement of your hand as it slides up and down your lover’s girth— he’s much bigger than you remember, swollen with an impending orgasm and dabi stutters when you reach further down his boxers to grip at weighty balls full of his seed, just about ready to burst.

he howls from deep within his chest, the noise only muffled from the drool that glides across his tongue before the villain’s wandering and scarred palms stop at your rib cage, settling just under your breasts. you don’t bother to stop pleasuring him even as his quirk ignites, blue flames burning right through your night shirt to expose your skin to the cool night air. without even a second thought, dabi’s mouth ascends on your tits, taking one into the hot cavern while his free hand seers marks over the other.

the thought have being branded by your man makes your hips jump and your hand squeeze his cock in your grip— a reminder of what’s to come later on. his strawberry tongue rolls across your hardened nipple and you yelp in surprise with the sudden feeling of cool metal across the exposed flesh. “y-you have your tongue pierced?” you squeal as dabi repeats his actions, loving the way you arch your back into his mouth and your heart rate speeds up.

“never know when a bit of metal’s gonna come in handy, sugar tits.”

you barely have time to formulate a response before your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you, biting and sucking and marking your raw flesh like a man starved of his last meal— you don’t let up either, quickly pumping his cock as he continues to leak, painting your hand with teases of his incoming release. you’re sure that his sweatpants and the sheets below you will be stained with his arousal from how much precum oozes from his dick, slicking up your hands and creating the perfect flashlight but you don’t dare to think of anything else but the way dabi’s face twists with pleasure as he desperately thrusts himself into the softness of your palm.

his cheeks flush red, globs of drool connecting the roof of his mouth to his tongue while his eyes grow fuzzy at each step he takes closer to orgasm, the very drool from his mouth covers each of your breasts as dabi switches between them— creating a layer of wet against your supple skin that shines under the moon. you flick your wrist around him, faster, harder— giving the villain everything you’ve got to make him feel good.

“shit pretty girl, y’gonna make me...cum,” touya shakes in your grip, eyes crossing and tongue becoming lazy against your marked up chest. his salvia pools against your skin while he pants and fucks your wet hand as if it were your pretty little cunt clamping down on him. “fuck, fuck, fuck. don’t you fuckin’ stop, don’t you dare fuckin’ stop...”

he barks out the demands, but there’s a neediness to his tone and whine to his voice that makes you grin with pride, even if you’re barely there from having your nipples stimulated beyond belief. “cum for me touya, please, wanna feel you come undone for me.” you beg him, ever so slightly and it’s just enough to push the villain over the edge, sending him into an earth shattering orgasm. you don’t dare to stop as you jerk him off, guiding down from his high as his cock twitches from release and paints your knuckles with the thick white of his seed. he mewls contendly into your breasts, slowing his hips while the world of colours dance behind his cerulean eyes.

“here with me yet?” you murmur to him, grasping his wild locks to tilt his head up towards your face— dabi looks so blissed out but the smirk on his raw and bitten lips tells you the night is far from over.

pressing a searing kiss to your sternum, your boyfriend’s pierced tongue makes yet another appearance as he trails the muscle down your soft tummy— biting your navel as he goes. “never left gorgeous, but don’t you fucking dare think for a second that this is over, y’got that?” he sits up quickly, grabbing hold of your doughy thighs and using them to pull you down the bed. the pads of his fingers start to burn marks into your skin, dancing along your legs and stopping just above the waistband of your underwear. “gotta stretch this cunt open before i give you my cock, remind you of who the fuck you belong to.”

spreading your thighs nice and wide, you release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding as dabi’s hands finally come into contact with your slit, prodding at your slick folds from over your panties. lowering his face between your open legs, your boyfriend hums in satisfaction as he peels your sticky panties away from your pussy. “why, babydoll, you’re so fucking wet down here. this can’t all be for me, can it?” touya teases you, hot breath fanning against your unused sex while his fingers play with the string of your slick that coats them. “y’must’ve missed your man badly for your lil cunt to look this fucked up, s’pecially when i haven’t even touched’ya yet.”

you shiver and nod weakly, willing to say or do anything to feel more of your boyfriend against you. “s’all for you dabi, o-only you could get me this wet, n-no one else could take your place...” you mewl, hips bucking into the air while the man himself watches you grow needier and needier, hormones expelled into the air. dabi grins, leaning into your core once more to press his nose into your wetness, sniffing your spiked panties like the dirty man he is— only to then lay his pierced tongue flat against your folds, tracing your hole with the muscle while his nose bumps at your clothed clit.

“saved this all for me, huh? you’re so loyal, sweetness. waiting for me all this time…” he kitten licks at your cunt until you’re writhing amongst the already solid sheets, forcing his spit into your hole from over the thin fabric of your panties, creating a more prominent outline of your puffy lower lips as your thighs quieter around his head. they threaten to close as he works on you through your underwear— teasing and prodding at your sex to see if you respond the same way to his touches as you used to.

you force your shaking through his black and white locks, grabbing hold of his roots in an attempt to pull dabi back to your heat when he lifts his head from between your thighs— pushing your lips into a pout. “no, no no, baby, please— need you to eat my cunt, want your mouth on me, please!” you cry out, but you’re quickly pacified by his scarred hand which cups your pussy— seat of his hand grinding into your clit.

“god, if i had known you were still this eager to fuck me i woulda come home a long time ago, babydoll.” he chuckles, licking up your inner thigh and biting down on the plush flesh. “need’ta get rid of these though, they’re getting in my way.” the villain gestures to your panties, making you watch as his quirk burns it’s way through the silky material until it’s nothing but ash against your sheets. you gasp as soon as your cute little pussy is exposed to the cool air, missing the warmth of touya’s pink tongue against it. “better.” he sneers, eyes bright and glowing in the dark with a new sense of feral desire.

thick digits press into your tight hole at the same time touya takes to sucking on your swollen clit, forcing their way up your velvet walls in search for your pleasure spot. dabi chuckles against your sticky folds as you begin to whine, hips rolling up into your lover’s face while his tongue draws rough patterns onto your bud. you’ve missed him, missed this. the nights where the villain dabi would sneak into your home, becoming your touya todoroki between the four walls that you shared— where you would spend nights seeing stars by his hand or his cock and he would make you his over and over again. the memories have you clamping down on his digits like there’s no tomorrow, greedily sucking them in as he strokes at the walls of your sex and makes your whole body shake.

touya works hard at pleasuring you, apologising for his absence through slurping the juices from your folds only for you to gush and paint his scarred chin with more of your nectar. the way you taste makes him dizzy, he could spend the rest of his life between your thighs and never miss the outside world like he did before tonight. he wants to be good for you, make you feel good too and it’s not enough to feel the ecstasy roll off of your heavenly body in waves— he wants all of you, mind, body and soul to belong to him.

you can barely breathe, leaking with every swipe of his tongue against you and every twist of his fingers inside of you. you can feel everything at once, the euphoria crackling across your brain, high on the way touya makes you feel. “god, t-touya, don’ stop...feel so fucking good…” you heave in a drawn out moan, barely able to tell what’s up and what’s down as the villain pulls his fingers from your slick hole and replaces them with his tongue ( only after they’ve pushed down on your g-spot over and over again ).

“you’re not the one giving orders, sweet stuff, oh no.” dabi reminds you sloppily, looking like a child with no table manners as your nectar smears across his face. for his own satisfaction, he delivers a harsh smack to your pussy, watching as your entire body jolts and jumps up the bed. “your cunt is mine and i’ll do what i want with it, show you how much i missed it.”

his possessive words almost set you off, the knot in your stomach growing tighter with every pinch of your nub and every swirl on his tongue inside your walls, committing every ridge to memory. your body burns and you’re not sure if it’s from dabi pressing against you so hotly or because of the desire that fuels the fire inside you.

“yours, yours, yours!” you chant like a mantra, high pitched and whiny— your voice mixing with the crude sounds of your own pathetic cunt, that grows louder when dabi spits on your clit to add to your wetness. he lets it drip between your folds, fingers to busy with stimulating you to catch it before it slides between your lower cheeks, opting to use his tongue on you instead.

“ya’like that don’t you? missed your whinin’ pretty girl, fuck, even missed making you a fucking mess.” you keen into his touch, babbling incoherent praises to the man between your legs as he spreads you wider by the ass with one hand and forces his fingers back into your cunt with the other. his fingers curl into a come hither motion, repeatedly pressing down on your spongy spot as he sloppily makes out with your puffy nub— taking only one, two, three strokes to make your eyes roll into the back of your skull and your orgasm to wash over you.

your body convulses, shaking as you’re hit hard by your release— juices gushing all over your lover’s face even as he refuses to let up. “t-touya no...no no...can-can’t,” you whinge, tears clumping in your lashes. dabi spreads your lips again, using three digits instead of two to continue stimulating your clit until another release builds up inside your lower belly— clear liquid gushing out of your abused pussy and staining the sheets below.

he hums proudly, pressing a lasting kiss to your fluttering hole before reaching up to your lips to do the same, barely allowing you the time to catch your breath— chest heaving while you come down from your high. “so pretty when you squirt for me like that, sweetness,” dabi moans into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on him. but as soon as he comes, he’s gone— rolling you onto your stomach and lifting your hips so your ass sits in the air for him. “gonna take my cock now, kay?”

“kay,” you mumble into the sheets, brain too fuzzy to resist as the villain manhandles you the way he wants.

after shoving down his sweatpants, the eldest todoroki grips the peachy soft flesh of your ass— smacking it a few times with his heat activated palms to watch the flesh jiggle and his handprint sink into the skin. you lean back, watching over your shoulder as his cock stands at full attention, hard from seeing you come undone on his fingers and tongue. it burns bright red at the tip, another fat glob of precum making it shine and making you dribble with anticipation. “y’such a fuckin’ slut, my beautiful slut… hungry for my cock even after i’ve wrecked your lil pussy so bad,” dabi says with a cocky lilt to his voice, the very tone making your hole clench around nothing. he taps his sticky cockhead against your slit, running it up and down your cunt three or four times— groaning as it slides between your cheeks. the sensation causes your back to arch as you wail, fingers gripping the bed covers so tight that you almost cause them to tear. “don’t you worry baby, ‘m gonna make up for lost time, you don’t have to miss me anymore.”

there’s a double meaning to his words that you don’t ask him to elaborate on, too caught up in the way he teases your hole as he dips his length in— only to pull it right back out. “don’t tease, need you badly,” you plead, earning yourself another harsh spank to your raw ass cheeks.

“shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” the words are harsh against his tongue, but dabi utters them softly as he relents to his wishes. his cerulean gaze flutters down to where your bodies begin to join, his large hand gripping his length before he starts to push into your dribbling entrance. “god, you’re s’fuckin’ tight, you might as well be a virgin.” pussy spasming at his words, you leak against touya’s cock, creating a lewd squelching sound as he pushes more of himself into you. the weight of dabi’s thick girth causes painful, yet delicious burn which he eases by rubbing soothing circles into your clit once more. “been s’long, i outta fuck you open again, huh?”

“uhuh, take me again touya. make me yours, all over again.” you slur over the spit drowning your tongue, eyes fluttering shut when the villain’s hips surge forward his dick brushes against your cervix. his rough, calloused palm grabs your neck from behind, forcing you down into the sheets while he bottoms out inside of you and pushes the last of his cock past your entrance. the two of you groan in unison, touya sitting heavy inside of your walls before you muster up the energy to say. “move.”

he doesn’t need to be told twice, whilst dabi was enjoying the feeling of being engulfed by your soft, warm insides— cock twitching in relief from time to time— he finds it within him to pull back from your selfish cunt to thrust into you with all his might. the force pulls a broken squeal from between your bitten and bruised lips, your hips pushing back against dabi to keep him inside of you. the pair of you move in sync, bodies dancing in a sensual grind between lovers that moulds your cunt into the shape of your boyfriend once more. “oh fuck yeah baby, oooh, missed your cunny s’bad…” dabi yowls loudly, listening for the squashy sounds of your sexes moving against one another. “christ, you like when i talk about your pathetic little pussy like this?”

you bite down on your lower lip, embarrassed by your own bleats of pleasure when he degrades you like this. annoyed by your lack of answer, touya grabs onto your hips and pulls you off of his cock, only to slam them back into you seconds later. his pace is unforgiving and relentless from there, forcing your body up the bed with every thrust into your core. “yes! like it, love it, missed your cock so bad touya!” you cry, holding onto the sheets for dear life as his dick drags along your pleasure spots and his hands burn marks into your ass and hips.

weakly, you attempt to match his thrusts. circling the meat of your ass back onto dabi and squeezing around the head of his girth every time it plunges into your sopping pussy. your arousals mix as he pounds away at your hole, a thick string hanging between your bodies and dribbling down your inner thighs, tainting innocent skin. the wet noise reverberates across the room, creating a passionate symphony with dabi’s deep, pitiful moans.

even though it had been a while since the two of you had been intimate like this, dabi still knew all the ways to get your body going. he took you from behind but still let his marred hands wonder and explore the planes of your skin, pinching here and there, marking your body as his to use and his alone. there’s love hidden beneath his rough touches, little signs that he missed having you so close to him— having you split open on his cock while you dripped on his pelvis and ruined your bedsheets, was his own way of unleashing his pent up emotions of love, anger and despair onto you and you wanted it. you wanted his good and his bad while he fucked you like his life depended on it, balls deep inside the pussy of the woman he loved was where he was most vulnerable with you.

“s-shit, sweetness, you’re such a pretty mess, so fucked up on my cock, can feel you clamping around me like my greedy bitch should.” you’re stuffed so full, clenching every time touya drives his cock deeper into your gummy cunt, head prodding at the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you. he’s losing his mind at how you choke out his iron hot girth, clear liquid seeping down your thighs at every thrust. “you’re my beautiful brain dead baby, letting me fuck you like this, yeah? missed you baby, missed this,” despite his words, touya is no better than you, mind hazy with thoughts of you creaming around him because of how good he’s made you feel. him, and no one else. you saved yourself for him after all these months, the least he could do was bring you to cloud nine.

he does so by angling his thrusts up to meet your pleasure spot every time, howling your name in the way he knows you like just to feel your hot cunny spew more of your juices out against his tummy. “missed you, thought about this for months,” you lament, elbows that kept you up finally giving out as your body tiredly collapses into the sheets— dabi’s balls still clapping against your ass. he follows you down into bed covers, chest pressing hotly against your back as the jackhammers into you from behind. “thought about your fat cock in my tight pussy, t-touched myself to you...made being alone worth it, made waiting for you to come home worth it. ‘cause i get to see your beautiful face when you fuck me…” you barely register what you’re saying, babbling incorrectly while the temperature of your body rises with your level of arousal.

behind you, touya’s cheeks burn with a new feeling. deep down, all he wanted was to be validated as a lover to you, he’d always been deemed as the bad guy incapable of feeling anything for anyone other than himself. but you, you had proved him wrong so many times and he still found your words hard to believe. yet, it felt good to know how much you loved him. snaking a hand down to your face, the villain squishes your cheeks together and brings you up to his own face despite the arch to your back— he keeps up his sinful pace, your lower cheeks bouncing with every push and pull of his length while he drips a globule of his saliva into your pouting mouth. “shut up,” he grunts harshly, although love is written across his cobalt eyes.

you smile up at him dopily, keeping eye contact with him as you swallow gratefully. “anything for you,” his hands slip from your squashed cheeks to your throat, cupping it as he holds you against him. more arousal pools in your lower stomach, turned on by the thrill of him being able to end your life right then and there, all it would take would be one flame but you know more than anything that dabi loves you and would never hurt you. “i love you, touya todoroki. i a-always will.”

your admission makes dabi’s heart stop in his chest, heated pants tickling your ear as he continues to take you and claim your body as his. with newfound vigor, he links his free hand with yours that lays against the bed and rams his cock into your core as hard and as fast as he can, determined to make you cum. “i—oh fuck, i love you too, sweetness…” the arsonist can feel the way your cunt flutters around his girth at his confession, tears building up in your eyes once more. god, you were so pretty like this, arched for him perfectly in the moon, stars illuminating every curve and dip on your body— showing off the stretch marks from where you’d carried his child. everything about you turned him on in the best possible ways and everything about you that turned him on, also turned out to be everything he loved about you.

your stupid big heart, your stupid big eyes when you say that you love him, your stupid smile when he used to kiss you and hold you and even now when he fucked you. touya todoroki was in love and in the worst possible way but he couldn’t say he regretted a single moment of it, not when you stayed true to him after all these months of being apart. you raised his child and you loved him all the same and a part of him is grateful that you never turned your back on him like everyone else he’s ever loved.

so the least he could do is make love to you, push his creamy cock into the depth of your core while kissing down your spine to watch you shudder oh so cutely. it’s messy and sloppy and the pair of you should feel nasty for the stench of sex in the air, lingering against your skin. but you don’t, how could you? not when love and adoration tingles in the air as well, it’s messy because of the unadulterated emotions you feel for one another— deep in vulnerability is where dabi grinds his cock slowly into you, hitting all the right places that make you scream his name into the night. makes him mumble incoherent praises against your bruised neck and squished cheeks as he lewdly licks a stripe up the column of your neck to behind your ear.

you gush around him and he grunts with ecstasy into your ear, tightening that knot in your stomach as you both step closer to your highs. “you like the way i fill this cunt up, huh? yeah? when i hold you like this, when i fuck you like this?” dabi mutters to you lewdly, holding onto his sanity by a thin thread as his own release sneaks up on him. “tell me you like it...fuck sweetness, please.”

“i love the way you fuck me touya, fuck! only you can make me feel this good,” you moan to appease him, bouncing back against his cock while his hips begin to stutter and your eyes begin to cross. it’s true, you love belonging to him, being able to bring him such pleasure and you know he feels the same way. the villain prods at your g-spot over and over again, stealing your breath away as he pulls you up and into your chest, changing the angle of his hips to bring you to the last hurdle. “baby—ohmygod—-touya! ‘m sososo close, don’t stop...don’t stop, gonna cum, give it to me, give it to me please!” you chant, eyes fluttering shut as you lean your head back against his shoulder and search for his hand, voice rising with every octave as you get closer and closer.

“fucking cum for me sweet girl, shit, cum all over this fucking cock.” dabi manages through gritted teeth, grasping your hand while the pace of his thrusts grow inconsistent.

that’s all that you need to hear before the damn breaks and arousal floods through your entire body courses through your veins. white dances behind your eyes in flashes as your release flushes out of your pussy and drips between touya’s balls, coating them in a layer your honeyed slick. you slump against your boyfriend, not able to mutter a word as you convulse in a silent scream and squeeze both his hand and cock alike.

gently, he pushes you down to the bed and pulls his cock from your intoxicating heat— his free hand clasps around his cock, palming himself towards a swift release. “yeah, oh fuck yeah, fuckin’ love you baby,” he cums on your back and your ass, thick, potent and milky seed landing on your flushed skin before he collapses beside you and exhaustion settles in his bones.

you black out for a few minutes after, fingers still intertwined but dabi manages to slip out long enough to retrieve a washcloth that's damp and warm to clean you both up with. you wake up just as he crawls back into bed with you, kissing your hairline while he makes himself comfortable. “almost thought i’d killed you for a second,” the villain jokes, slinging a loose arm over your bare waist and pulling you to lay on his chest.

“you couldn’t, even if you tried.” you counter sleepily, drawing star shapes on your boyfriend’s naked stomach. a comfortable silence sweeps over the room, despite the thoughts that linger on your mind. looking up at dabi, you notice him drifting off but still can’t help the words that slip from your lips. “why didn’t you ever come back?”

you feel dabi’s chest rise and fall with a deep sigh, fingers coming up to scratch at your scalp— something that used to help you to sleep when you were together before. “i was figuring out a way to get out of the league, to be with you and kori.” he says after some time, catching your eye as you give him a confused look. “shigaraki doesn’t know about her, i never told him. but i knew from the moment we found out about her, i didn’t want her to be a part of the life i’m involved in and knowing how the league works, they’d find a way to make use of her.”

you stay quiet, not knowing what to do with the new information and dabi’s reasoning for staying away for so long. on one hand you were grateful to him for keeping your daughter quiet and safe but part of you still wished he’d given you a sign to let you know it’d all be okay. grabbing your chin, he forces you to look up at him—passionate flames burning in his eyes. “i need you to trust me on this one sweetness, i promise nothin’ will happen to you nor kori. so long as i’m around.”

“pinky promise?” you ask him sweetly, feeling the truth to his words.

you hold up your pinky to the villain’s face, smiling through exhaustion as he rolls his eyes down at you. “pinky promise, babydoll. now get some shut eye, kay?” touya links your pinky with his, scoffing when you make him kiss them.

“g’night, touya.”

“sleep well, babydoll.”

the bed is cold when you wake up the next morning.

the panic sets in quickly, speeding up with the chirping of birds from your balcony outside. you shouldn’t be tearing up over the childishness of a pinky promise. he always made you promises but never actually kept the and as quickly as dabi had waltzed back into your life, he had left you alone and in the cold once more.

gathering yourself together, you stumble out of your bed— avoiding any mirrors that may show the cascade of marks dabi had left against your skin from the previous night. you feel embarrassed and ashamed that you let him back into your life so easily, especially now that you had kori to think about. tears start to well in your tired and puffy eyes as you head to the kitchen, thinking that a mug of coffee will calm you down before you prep your daughter for the day.

but as you wander out of your room, the familiar sound of your baby girl’s laugher drifts through the air— seemingly coming from the kitchen. the sweet melody calls out to you and suddenly your casual stride to the kitchen becomes a brisk walk so you can reach her faster. “kori? baby? did you climb out of your crib again—?” you call out to her, stopping in your tracks when you round the corner.

dabi stands in the middle of your kitchen, still shirtless, with kori balanced on his hip— in one hand he holds a small blue flame, which you’re sure he believes is safe enough for kori to play with while the other steadies your baby girl while she claps and squeals. a first. you’re not too sure when the last time you’d seen her happy was, but you figure her father’s presence had something to do with it.

“i was going to make you breakfast, but the little shit woke up and i didn’t have enough free hands to make you a grilled cheese.” touya smirks over at you, diminishing his flame to grasp kori’s hand and use it to wave at you. she squeals happily, curls bouncing and eyes lighting up in a similar way to her father’s. your heart melts at the sight of them being together, seeing the mannerisms that they share and how joyous they seem. they both grinned the same way, shared the little twitch in their noses and even their sneezes. kori todoroki was an exact replica of touya todoroki, right down to the tiny red curl she had lost in her white locks.

“you know, i thought you’d left,” you make your way across to the island where dabi sets his daughter down and check her temperature— just in case her sudden change in mood is down to any sickness. “the bed was cold when i woke up.”

“didn’t i make you a promise last night, sweetness? i’m not going anywhere,” the arsonist reminds you, wrapping his arms around you from behind while you wipe at kori’s pudgy baby cheeks and give her the once over again. “if you’re checking the kid’s temperature, she's usually pretty cold because of my mom’s quirk. something ice related will be coming through, but she must’ve inherited your strong constitution. guess she has a normal body temp when i’m around ‘cause it balances her out.” while dabi explains the inner workings of kori’s incoming quirk, she claps and babbles excitedly from her place on the island— making a game out of throwing her toys off of it. all of dabi’s logic makes sense and you seem a little more relieved knowing how to take care of her from here.

picking her up, along with her stray toys, you set your baby down by her playmat again and switch on some baby-safe cartoons while you fix yourself and dabi some coffee, kissing all over kori’s face beforehand. he had whined when you pulled away the first time to give your daughter some attention, it was almost comical how the big bad villain had pouted then. “i wonder if there’s anything of mine she inherited or if it’s all you and todoroki genetics.”

“well, her pretty smile certainly didn’t come from me, babydoll.” dabi muses with a light chuckle, arms trapping you against his chest once more as you continue to make you both some much needed caffeine. the coffee machine whirrs as you sway together in the early morning sunshine, warmth from the sun brushing against your skin and touya’s hair tickling your neck before he presses kisses over your fading love bites while kori’s annoying shows play in the background. everything feels complete and at peace. you feel like a real family. “i could get used to this, this life with you.”

you spin in dabi’s arms, cupping his cheeks and taking in his face for the millionth time in the last twelve hours. “then stay, or at least visit some more now that you’re back. you may not feel it, but kori and i need you. everything has always been better when you’ve been around touya… and i mean that. stay.” you stare at him with pleading eyes, standing on your tiptoes to stare him down and communicate just how much you needed him here with you both.

and for once in his life, touya todoroki feels the most loved he’s ever really felt. here in this shitty two bedroom apartment with his angelic little girl and his beautiful girlfriend during the winter season— touya knows this is right where he needs to be. “i’ll stay, for as long as you’ll fuckin’ have me.”

“forever, then?” you ask, eyes lowering to your boyfriend’s lips.

“forever it is, babydoll.” the villain nods, following your gaze before leaning down to capture your lips with a promise written into your sweet kiss.

extended ending

you thought that the best kind of weather was when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds but the air around you was still as cold as a december’s day. the breeze is enough to make your nose run just a little, but occasionally the warmth of the sun’s rays radiates across your skin like a warm blanket, balancing it out.

it was the kind of weather where people didn’t know how to dress, some wore mismatched shorts and jerseys whilst others were decked out in scarves up to their cheeks and sandals where their toes flopped out. it was the kind of weather that reminded you of dabi and kori, they were your warmth and your cold, they balanced each other out and made your family whole.

kori sits on your right hip as you push the car door closed and wave goodbye to an accomplice of your boyfriend’s— your driver for the evening. your little girl’s curls are combed back into two even pigtails, dark blue bows in each one while the red lock of her hair ( now, much longer ) curls against her forehead stubbornly. she looks so pretty, all fancied up a dress that dabi had chosen for her on this particular occasion, the lace irritated her only slightly but the decapitated endeavour plushie her father had gifted her served nicely as a distraction.

you bounce her once, cooing down at your baby before you look to the hospital in front of you— a look of determination in your eye. ever since the night touya had visited you and swore to stay, he’d kept his word to the best of his abilities. being a villain was still a major factor in your relationship, he came when he could stayed if his job permitted it— taking care of your daughter when your shifts were long and even going as far as to learn his and kori’s favourite recipes to cook on the nights where you couldn’t or you didn’t fancy take out.

in the last few weeks his visits had become slightly more scarce with shigaraki becoming more and more demanding, but touya’s plan to leave the league was slowly coming to fruition along with endeavour and the hero society which had both carved a life of struggle for the three of you.

your boyfriend being busy had given you more time to reconnect with the friends you had lost over the last year, meeting up with those from college, mina and tsuyu ( who’d simply thought you’d gone off the radar ) for kori’s first birthday. they absolutely loved her and your sweet girl loved all the attention she was getting. you even had the chance to reunite with your parents, who were more remorseful that you felt you couldn’t come to them for help than the fact that you’d gotten pregnant during college.

of course, they all asked who the father was and you simply told them that he had died ( which was half true ), using the excuse that you were embarrassed to be widowed and with a child at your young age.

shaking your head, you enter the hospital and recite the words that touya had made you practice the night before. you were here by endeavours orders and needed to see mrs.todoroki. your lover had used some sort of hack to put you on the list of visitors for his mother but one look at kori was all the guards and staff needed to let you through. a few nights prior to today, dabi had asked you to do one thing for him before it all went down, kissing your knuckles over some sushi take out.

so despite your nerves, you would go through with this for him, especially if it meant your family could be together. some guards escort yourself and kori to rei todoroki’s room, leaving you with a curt nod and slightly more polite wave to your daughter. the room itself is slightly bleak, a chair and some blue cushioned sofas positioned in an L-shape parallel to the blanketed bed. there’s a tv in the top left corner which and a set of draws underneath where a clear vase sits— containing blooming blue flowers.

rei looks up when you enter, grey eyes flashing with confusion despite the blank look on her face as kori babbles happily in your arms. “who are you?” she whispers, hands retreating from her flowers and folding neatly in her lap.

“oh! i’m yn, your son’s fiancé and this,” you beam kindly, further entering the room and being sure to lock the doors behind you. you nod your head down to your daughter who waves around her endeavour plushy— paying no mind to the situation unfolding. “this is our daughter, your granddaughter...kori todoroki! she’s just turned one and daddy thought it was about time she met you, isn’t that right pretty girl?”

“dada!!!”

rei blinks and you smile again. “she’s a daddy’s girl,” you explain and lift your hand to snow the small sapphire engagement ring on your ring finger. touya had proposed last night as well, certain your plan would work out. “and quite frankly, so am i! how can i not be when your son treats me so well.”

nodding slowly, the wife of endeavour looks down at her hands which you note, nervously fiddle with a stray petal. “so, natsu and you—?” you can see her trying to work it out, curiosity written across her features. you could see why the woman might think kori was natuso’s child— they looked a lot like each other just by first glance but rei was missing an important feature. the colour of kori’s eyes.

“oh no, your other son. the eldest one.” you correct her with a sinister shake of your head. swiftly crossing the room to set your daughter down in rei’s lap. you watch with an evil air of satisfaction as rei todoroki freezes with fear, as the mistakes her family paid out to touya suddenly come to the forefront of her mind. she wobbles with kori still in her grip and you shoot her a dark glare— reaching over to fix her flowers in their vase. “touya picked these out, always said that you loved them. such a pretty shade of blue, no wonder why they’re your favourites, right?”

“please leave.” she looks up at you pleadingly, shaking like a leaf in the breeze outside. oh how you wish your fiancé was here to see this but he had more important things to do.

rolling your eyes, you grab the remote to switch on the tv— pinching kori’s nose affectionately to make her laugh again. “come sit with me rei, let’s watch some tv to help you calm down.”

the woman nods weakly, barely moving an inch as you take a seat beside her with a smile. you skip channels a few times, pride swelling up in your chest when you finally land on the right one, touya’s broadcast flashing across the screen. he sits leisurely in a chair, shirtless with all of his beautiful scars on display— a painful reminder of his childhood and what he’d become. “i, touya todoroki, was born as the eldest son of endeavour. today i’ve killed over 30 innocent people until now, some to protect my family. my daughter, who i have not been able to see due to my father. i would like to let everyone know why i’d end up committing such a hideous act.” he speaks such calmness and clarity, and you can’t help but feel emotional at how he stands in front of the world.

kori grins, leaping up at the sight of her father on the screen and claps her hands. “dada!! dada!! lookie s’daddy!!” she squeals while rei struggles to breathe, panic set in her eyes.

you put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, offering her a sweet grin in an attempt to calm her before the oncoming storm. “keep watching, mrs.todoroki, touya said we’d be one big, happy family after this.” the words are sugar coated and sickly sweet, carrying the dark meaning across to your fiancé’s mother.

looking away, your heart swells while touya tears down the hero society and spills the truth for all of japan to see. you were grateful to the man he’d become— loyal to you, to your daughter and the dreams that you had. the satisfaction of seeing the real villains of the world fall was much greater than any hush money enji todoroki could ever offer.

fin.

— TAGLIST:

@husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @grace-todoroki @toshiuwu @whet-ones-write

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kamotoshi · 3 years

Text

bumping into their ex [hcs]

anon said: HI MISS FRAN! Your writing is so sexc that I'd love to make a request from you! How about hcs for Toji and Naoya (seperate) stumbling upon an old flame/fem!ex-lover years later? Would they try and get back with her if the feelings are still there? Acknowledge her even? Spend a night (nsfw) with her and then go about their own lives? Sorry if this request isn't your cup of tea, obvs you don't have to write it if you don't want to! Love your blog, and hope you're feeling better ilu <3

fran says: first of all hello bb thanks so much for your kindness and sending this in ily! second of all I love how this sounds like an essay prompt bc I thrive off that shit like yes get my brain warmed up with these questions omg critical thinking!! anyway hope you enjoy :)

pairings: fushiguro tōji, zen'in naoya; fem ex-lover! reader

genre: fluff, slight angst, humor, and one bullet point of smut

warnings: brief mentions of sex but nothing super explicit, swearing

✧ takes him a few minutes to realize that it’s even you smh but once he does he has no issue with being the one to approach you. like, if you bumped into him and he went “oh hey I didn’t even see you there” really, truly did NOT see you there

✧ even though years have passed since the two of you last saw one another and he always carries himself with that disinterested demeanor, he still cares about you a lot and wants to know how you’ve been.

✧ he’ll definitely ask if you’re busy and if you wanna grab drinks or something with him whenever you have the time. and ofc he’ll make it seem like he’s hella busy but the man has no plans whatsoever and is just being difficult to make it seem like he’s got more going on than he does

✧ but no matter how busy he seems (according to how “packed” his schedule is), he has his full attention on you when the two of you go out together to catch up

✧ there’s a part of him that wants to flirt with you and see if you’d do it back just to gauge if there’s still a chance for the two of you there, but he’s too worried that his feelings are one-sided to do it

✧ because as much as he loved the relationship the two of you shared, he still has this lingering feeling that you deserve better than him and that he wouldn’t be able to give you what you need. it was most likely this feeling that led to it ending between you in the first place

✧ so, instead of letting his feelings show, he just enjoys the time that you spend together talking about your lives before you part ways

✧ he’ll probably be left with this lingering feeling of regret at not being forthcoming about the way he feels about you, especially if you flirt with him and he pretends not to be interested

✧ and within a few days after your reunion, you’ll probably get a text or call from him asking if you want to meet up sometime. if you say no, you’ll never hear from him again—he doesn’t have the energy to chase you if you’re not interested (and he doesn’t wanna look desperate)

✧ but if you say yes, it’s likely your “meetings” will turn into dates instead ;)

✧ he’s for sure playing it cool even though his heart’s pounding in his chest and his palms are getting all clammy at the thought of talking to you again

✧ he’d definitely act like he didn’t see you at first and almost walk past without saying anything until you look over and make eye contact with him. and even if you hadn’t cast a glance his way he’d still find some “nonchalant” way of approaching you anyway

✧ naoya seems like the type to be more emotional than he appears and things like what happened in your relationship affect him more than he might let others know, so even if it doesn’t seem like he cares and like he’s on top of the world, he’s been thinking about you. especially if you’re the first person he’s ever been in a serious relationship with omg he’s 100% still obsessed with you lowkey

✧ he’ll most likely ask you if you wanna grab a drink or a meal and catch up (he’d offer to pay of course. he needs you to say yes and what better way of doing that than by offering free food?)

✧ but the two of you end up talking for hours and hours until you’re back at his place, walking around the property and reminiscing or sitting and watching a movie together

✧ being together, talking about all the memories you shared when you were together undoubtedly sparks that undeniable chemistry between the two of you. and before you know it, that one, innocent kiss he presses against your lips is turning into so much more

✧ seeing you again, hearing you again, and feeling you again drives him insane because he told himself that he just wanted to fuck you this one time and that would be it, but he finds that he can’t get enough of you and that he wants you to be with him again. like literally as he cums he has an epiphany that he’s still very much in love with you

✧ however, instead of openly admitting that he still loves you, he’s the type to throw that “can you imagine us getting back together lol?” out there all jokingly just to see how it goes down. based on your reaction, he’d be making his decision about whether to be open about his feelings or to just let you go

✧ if you mention trying your relationship again, he’s all for it. but if you don’t, you’ll never know that he wanted you back, and he’ll let you walk away without any arguments. purely in the interest of self-preservation, it’s better in his eyes that you think he just didn’t want to get back together rather than knowing you were the one that got away

#jjk x reader #jjk hcs #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #zenin naoya x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #fran's hc reqs #fran's goin feral

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kaznejis · 4 years

Text

Only Fools- Marco Peña x Flynn!Reader

nialler-tpwk5 said: Can we get Marco x reader but lee and Noah are her bothers and Noah gets in to a fight with him bc they kissed

A/N: Thankyou for sending in this prompt! I wrote this in a matter of hours, so hopefully there aren’t any mistakes- sorry if there is. I really enjoyed writing this; I think the scene between Marco and Noah at the football field is definitely my favourite!

Alsooo, whilst I was writing this I received a request for a ‘making out with Marco’ head canon- so I will have something similar to the opening out in the next few hours ;)

Feel free to send in any prompts. :)

Curling the tips of your fingers into Marco’s hair, you breathed out hot puffs of breaths against his face as you moved your lips against his passionately. Marco’s hands clung to your waist as he dragged you into his lap, running his tongue against the seam of your lips as he pushed back with the same level of fervour.

“We can’t do this for long,” You panted as Marco traced the pliant skin beneath your loose shirt, “My family will be home soon.”

Marco just smirked up at you as his hands moved further north, “You know that never stops me.”

You huffed a laugh as you dragged your lips down the base of his throat, “Yeah well, I don’t feel like watching my brothers beat you up today.”

Marco pulled back, pulling a raised eyebrow as he stared at you, “You think I can’t take them?”

“Lee, definitely,” You both broke into giggles at that, “but Noah is multiple feet taller than you with an added sprinkle of anger issues- wouldn’t exactly be a fair fight.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter because we won’t get caught,” He grinned at you as he pecked the tip of your nose softly, “The older brother will go back to college in a week and the younger one is to wrapped up in his own drama to notice anything.”

“True,” You sighed, tracing your finger along his face- the scar at his hairline, the light freckles beneath his eyes, the stray hairs that trailed the edges of his eyebrows. He really was beautiful. Despite what your siblings could ever think, you truly loved Marco- and you believed that he loved you too with the same level of compassion. The two of you were meant for each other; the sneaking around and hiding had only proved to deepen the connection that formed between the two of you.

Though, you could tell that Marco was beginning to grow restless of this factor to your relationship. You were too- you wanted nothing more than be able to be with Marco in public and get rid of the masses of girls that flocked towards him in school. You wanted to be able to bring him home for family dinners like Noah did with Elle and Lee with Rachel; instead of having to sneak him in and out of your bedroom window as soon as the front door opens.

To say the least, your brothers were extremely overprotective of you. Though, Noah’s protective nature was much more intense than Lee’s- he had gone to the lengths of beating up any guy who even dared to look at you, let alone touch you. Although he had softened slightly since opening his heart up to Elle, you still had no doubt that he would hunt Marco down if you were ever caught together. The thought of the two people you loved most in the world going against each other terrified you and you never wanted to be put in that situation. You just wished your brothers would lay off and stop seeing you as the timid girl you once were.

“Are you still with me?” Marco mumbled softly, pushing a strand of hair from out of your eyes. You just smiled sadly back at him before reluctantly climbing from upon his lap.

“You should probably get going, they’ll all be back soon.”

Marco climbed up from your bed after you, letting out a heavy intake of breath as he listened to what you said, “Alright- but I will forever dream of spending an entire night with you here.” And at that he laughed before giving you a sloppy kiss to the cheek and swinging his legs over your balcony ledge

“Be safe!” You hollered as you leant against the door and watched as he jumped from the tree just below your balcony.

The family sat around the table in comfortable silence as everyone tucked into the food your mother had prepared as usual. Though tonight there were no best friends or girlfriends that usually frequented the seat next to your siblings present tonight- meaning that it was just family.

“Noah,” You inquired, looking up to make eye contact with your older brother, “This is completely hypothetical...but what would you do if I had a boyfriend?”

Noah paused, his fork in the midst of digging into a mound of spaghetti, “Depends,” He brought his fork up and chewed slowly as if he were deep in thought, “If your hypothetical boyfriend were to be someone I know I would beat his ass as they are all assholes.”

“Noah!” Your mum snapped, swatting at him in an attempt to weaken his use of words.

“Sorry,” He groaned, holding up his hands, “I was about to say that if he was someone I didn’t know, maybe I would give him a chance.”

“Moral of the story, don’t date anyone from our school,” Lee laughed as he and Noah high-fived, “Why are you asking that anyway?”

“Oh, just wondering.” You smiled in what you hoped was a reassuring way, but you didn’t miss the intrigued, tilted-head look your mother gave you.

Later that night as you lay on top of your bed covers mindlessly scrolling through your social media and waiting for Marco to message you, a knock sounded at your bedroom door.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” You called as you propped yourself up against the headboard, “Hey mum.”

“Sorry to barge in, I bought you some hot chocolate.”

“Thanks,” You grinned as you accepted it and took an elongated sip, though you noticed the look on her face as you did so, “Alright, what do you want to ask?”

“You always know when something’s up,” She laughed and gestured for you to scoot over on the bed, “Earlier at dinner- that situation wasn’t hypothetical, was it?”

“No.” You gulped, opting to stare down at the chocolate that swirled within the mug.

“Oh, sweetheart,” She cooed, wrapping her arms around you and bringing you in to cuddle into her side, “Why didn’t you just say? I would never get mad at you for having a boyfriend.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” You sniffled, cuddling closer into her side, “It’s Noah who would.”

“Ah,” She whispered as he tightened her grip around you slightly, “I see.”

“Yeah.” You whispered back, finding it difficult to speak through the lump that was beginning to

rise in your throat.

“He’ll come around, I promise,” Your mother let out a small chuckle before continuing, “He can’t really judge your relationship status when he’s dating his brother’s best friend.”

You both dissolved into light giggles at that, the situation really was bizarre, “That’s actually true.”

“So,” She spoke slowly, nudging your side, “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” She nodded sincerely, “Marco.”

“Marco…” She mumbled with furrowed brows as realisation slowly set in, “Marco! Oh, he’s a cutie.”

You laughed fondly as you entwined your fingers together in your lap, “Yeah, I would know.”

“You love him, don’t you.” It was a statement, not a question.

You just nodded, smiling shyly as you turned to look at the woman beside you, “I wish we didn’t have to hide.”

“Your brothers will understand eventually, I promise,” and she bundled you up all snug in her arms and kissed your forehead as she spoke.

“I hope so, I really do.”

A few days later, you and Marco were once again hanging out in the confines of your bedroom- though this time the interaction was much less heated as the two of you simply sat with your legs intertwined as you studied and helped each other with homework. If someone was to walk in right now you could brush it off as two friends simply hanging out. But, once again- Noah would beat up any guy who even looked at you. Any interaction could be seen as risky.

“Hey,” Marco spoke, reaching over and rubbing his thumb over your clothed thigh, “Help me with this?” In return you smiled and leaned over to press a slow, teasing kiss to Marco’s lips- which he quickly reciprocated as he looped his arms around you.

Of course, Noah decided to walk in at that moment.

“Hey Y/N-” You and Marco pulled away immediately and froze in place, staring at Noah who was practically steaming with anger, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Noah, wait-” Though your brother completely ignored you and stormed straight up to Marco, grabbing him by the collar and slamming his back against the wall.

“My sister? My fucking sister? You made a mistake.”

“Noah!” You screamed, running to the side of him and grabbing the arm that clung to Marco, “Let go of him, I’m fine.” Though your pleads fell upon deaf ears.

“Out of all the people in the world you decided to play my sister?” Noah spat, getting up in Marco’s face, “You’re a fucking asshole, bro.”

“I’m not playing her,” Marco choked out, kicking at Noah’s legs and sending them both to the ground, “I love-”

“Don’t even say it.” Noah practically growled, landing a solid punch onto Marco’s face as they wrestled. Gasping at the sight of blood dripping from your boyfriend’s nose, you jumped forward and grabbed onto Noah’s shoulders- digging your nails into his skin in a way to replace the lack of strength you inhabited compared to him, “What the hell Y/N, get off me!”

“Get off of Marco then, he didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Y/N,” Your brother spoke sternly, “He was touching you.”

“Yes,” You yelled back, anger fizzling through every fibre of your being, “Because he is my boyfriend!” You dug your hands into your eyes, “I’m not a child anymore Noah, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Well, when you’re with boys like him maybe I do.”

“Boys like me?” Marco deadpanned, taking his hand from his steadily bleeding nose as he did so, “The hell does that mean?”

“Assholes that fuck around.”

“Flynn,” Marco spoke calmly, sitting down on the bed, “I’m sorry to say it but I love your sister, more than anything. I would never do anything to hurt her.” You smiled softly at him as he spoke, he returned it once he was done.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Trust me, I guess?” Marco shrugged, wincing as his nose began to sting, “Did you really have to punch me in the face though?”

“Yeah.” Noah insisted, throwing an arm over your shoulder which you attempted to shrug away, “Hurt my sister though and I will fucking kill you- we clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Marco saluted as he walked over to you and looped his arms around your waist, laughing as he accidentally smeared blood onto your shirt.

Yeah, your relationship was about to become ten times better already.

Would anyone be interested in being added to a tag list? If so, please send me an ask or message saying that you would like to be added!

#Marco Peña #Marco x reader #Marco peña x reader #the kissing booth #the kissing booth 2 #marco #oneshot #fanfiction #imagine #taylor zakhar perez #jacob elordi #noah flynn #noah flynn x reader #marco x yn

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bibliocratic · 3 years

Note

Do you think you might ever follow up that forking paths fic chapter where the two jons talk? Like after our jon leaves, id love to hear your take on how younger jon reacts when martin gets back from (what he now knows, thanks to our jon explaining) that trip to visit his mom. How do you think that jon goes about approaching martin, bc its def clear that our jons words really stick with him

Anon, I loved your prompt, and I’ve thought about it often.

No CWs apply. Set in an alternative series 2, pre JonMartin

This is related to a time-travel AU where both the ‘original universe’ Jon and Martin have visited alternative versions of the archives. There’s no major spoilers for that story, although if you’d like to have a read, it’s here. :)

Coat slumped onto its hanger by the front door. Keys jangling in a lumpen heap. He checks, then double checks the bolt lock, the latch, the door chain, and then toes a door wedge harshly in place for good measure.

Martin puts down his overnight bag, fat with clothes that need going in the wash.

A signal failure at Yeovil Junction, stretching a three-and-a-half-hour journey back from Devon by over an hour. There had been a motley gaggle of the rowdy and the drunk on the Victoria line, and they’d squawked and cheered at the inanity of nothing, their laughing getting louder. He had avoided eye contact, felt his headache building.

Back in his flat, he takes two paracetamol and sits down, feeling like the final pieces of a cliff-face, falling seaward.

A breath out. A breath in.

Sleep is slow to come, and he wakes more than once. Eventually, he just waits for his alarm to go off.

He can’t find an ironed shirt, so he wears a jacket to cover up the worst of the crinkles. He’s on time, but he still frets as he stands, compressed by strangers on the Tube.

The main office area is quiet when he comes in. Martin clicks on the light switch, with a heavy feeling of experiencing the entire weight of the upcoming week at once, then goes into the small staff room to make himself a tea.

Jon’s there when he gets back. Stood by his desk.

“Oh! Hi,” Martin says. The tea sloshes ominously as he jumps, but it doesn’t spill. “Didn’t - didn’t see you there.”

“Martin!” Jon says. Looking and sounding, rather unusually, like he’s slept more than his rationing of three or four hours nightly. “You’re – you’re back. Good. That’s. That’s good.”

“Oh. Er. Yeah.” Martin puts his tea down on a coaster. Jon skitters back to give him space but he’s still close. The bags under his eyes lighter. “Back to the old, er, grindstone, I guess.”

Martin trails off weakly. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy Jon’s company, but it’s early, and Martin hasn’t stored up reserves to be his friendliest just yet, nor to navigate whatever mood Jon might have been stewing in. He’s half waiting for Jon to just tell him what work he wants him to be getting on with.

He wonders where Tim and Sasha are.

Jon, no better word for it, lingers. Weight shifted from one foot to another. He looks over Martin intently, and Martin’s face heats to think of what he probably sees; un-ironed shirt, scruffy shoes. He shaved this morning in a rush, and he’s likely missed a few bristles under his throat, down his jawline.

“How… How was your trip?”

“Um. Yeah. Ok,” Martin lies. “You know. Nice to get a few days away.”

Jon hums, opens his mouth to say something, and then shuts it. Then: “I’m… I’m going to Costas.”

“Oh. Ok. That’s fine.”

“Would you like anything?”

Martin’s small smile bursts onto his face like breaking the surface of a wave, and he’s surprised, by how touched he feels at Jon’s gesture.

Jon reflects his expression for a moment with a similar smile, before it’s quickly schooled into blankness.

“No. But thanks, Jon.”

“Ok.”

Jon makes no move to leave.

“Come with me?” he asks. He’s fiddling with his shirt cuffs, the ring on his finger. “It’s not far, and… I would like you to. If you, er. If you want to.”

Martin nods, and doesn’t understand the relief on Jon’s face.

Jon’s pace is clipped, brisk with speed, and Martin hurries after him, feeling a little bit like a satellite orbiting a force of gravity. By the time they get to the café, it’s the dregs of the morning rush in a small queue that trails limply from the counter around past the coolers stocking juices and sandwiches. Martin offers to get them a table, but Jon makes some flat-footed excuse about needing help to carry the tray while he pretends to peer at the overhead menus with far greater attention than they necessarily deserve. So, Martin waits with him. Listening to the whistling rush of the steamer and the juddering grind of the large silver coffee machine behind the counter. One of the baristas shouts to get the attention of a customer wearing headphones.

Jon won’t hear a word for Martin paying, waving him off impatiently in a distracted, short way that is followed up by a pause, and then a deliberately politer comment about how Martin can get the next one. It’s such a seesaw of tones that Martin’s left a little at sea by it all. Mumbling a thank you, jumbled and lost with the way this morning is going, the buoy lines and anchor points shifted since he went away.

Jon’s face reads similar.

They sit down at a four-seater table, Martin insisting on being allowed to carry the tray, if only to give himself something to do. Jon makes a protracted faff of adding sugar to his tea, drip-feeding it milk until it reaches an acceptable shade while Martin’s fingertips prickle with heat as his hands make flood barriers around his own cup.

“What’s this about, Jon?” he finds it within himself to eventually blurt out.

Jon looks up from his cup. Glances away almost as fast. He manages to balance a fine line between guilty and defiant with only the set of his jaw.

Ah. It’s going to be one of those talks then.

Some sheltered, tentatively uncrumpling part of Martin had hoped that they were past this.

He might as well jump straight to it.

“If this is your idea of some… I dunno, public place where you feel you can accuse me of being a murderer again – ”

“What?! It’s – ”

“ – I know you’re going through a lot, I get it, I do, a-a-and I am trying to understand – ”

“It’s not – ”

“ – I-I thought we were past this, I thought you trusted me, at least not to murder you in your sleep, for God’s sake – ”

“I… It’s not, Martin.” Jon’s hands are held up, palms outwards. “I promise. I. I trust you. It’s not about anything like that.”

Martin’s hands unclench slightly from around his teacup. Jon’s expression bares the singular marks of a man struggling between emotion and ingrained habit.

Finally, nearly glowering, he stares into his own tea, rather than at Martin.

“Tim and Sasha will be here soon. I’ve texted them, told them to come here, not into the Archives.”

“What, why…?”

“There is every chance we may be overheard there, and – ”

“Not this again – ”

“Martin.” There is nothing harsh in Jon’s rebuke, for all it is phrased as a curt interruption. He huffs an irritated breath and meets Martin’s eye almost defiantly. It loosens into regret. “I know that I have… have not exactly given you much reason to take me on faith. And my behaviour these past… I suspect I owe you my apologies for a multitude of minor indignities that you have neither warranted nor deserved, and I am sure that if we had more time, we could both sit here listening my faults and failings to our mutual satisfaction. But the fact is that we don’t have time, and at the moment, my request for your patience and attention is far more important than my desire for your forgiveness.”

Jon’s sincerity is straight-forward, clean-edged.

“Tell me then,” Martin replies.

“Something happened, while you were visiting your mum.”

“How did you know I was – ?” Martin starts, but Jon waves a restless hand as though eager to move on to other matters, to which Martin’s temper rises because oh no you don’t, and he snaps: “Have you been following me?”

It was clearly not what Jon was expecting him to say. His face, scrunched up with impatience, slackens into a mild panic.

“No!” he says. “No, I. I haven’t. I swear, Martin, I haven’t.”

“Then how do you know about my mum?”

“I can explain, a-and I will. But let me finish, please?”

Martin nods. It is not fear that is starting to itch under his jacket, but it bears a family resemblance.

“We had a visitor,” Jon says. From his coat pocket, he pulls out two cassette tapes, like the ones they use for the difficult statements. “Two, actually. While you were away. We can listen to them both, later… and you should. You have a right to. They’re about you, a-and me – um, us. Tim and Sasha were here when the – er, the statement givers delivered them, and I’ve already filled them in on the supplementary information that we didn’t get on tape. I haven’t… I’m not asking you to trust me, or even believe me straight away, but there’s… Martin, there’s something dangerous at the Institute. Something that means all of us harm, and these tapes – ” He taps on them with a nail. “ – they’re a warning. About what our future might entail. And I… I firmly believe that together, all of us, we can stop it.”

Jon winds down like an exhausted clock, and he slumps, his gaze dragged away from Martin’s as though he’s suddenly embarrassed by his outburst.

Martin lets out a long, billowing sigh.

“OK,” he says.

Jon looks up.

“Ok?”

“I don’t – I don’t even begin to understand what’s going on here. But I believe you. Though God knows why.”

Almost furtively, Jon’s face fractures into one of those small, surface-breaking smiles again.

“Thank you, Martin. I – I appreciate that.”

Martin’s blood vessels at that moment traitorously decide to flush his face with heat. He clears his throat.

“Right,” he says. “Right, so, these are the – the warnings, yeah?”

“I’ve brought headphones if you want to listen.”

“Which one should I…” Martin begins, but his voice sputters silent in his throat as he reads the labelling down the sides, printed in Jon’s aggressively neat hand.

Case #0160920: Statement of Martin Blackwood, for the attention of Jonathan Sims. Case #0160921: Statement of Jonathan Sims, for one Martin Blackwood.

“I didn’t record any – ”

“No. You didn’t.” Jon’s expression is steady if wary. “And neither did I.”

“S-so this statement here, that’s – that’s – and that means that your one there, that’s – ”

“Yes.”

“Fuck me.”

He meets Jon’s eyes. Lets out another, decidedly less steady breath.

Jon promised to explain. Jon promised answers.

And Martin can trust that right now. It’s easier, somehow, with Jon looking at him like he won’t let him get lost.

“This one first?” he says, pointing at the tape that another Martin Blackwood has made.

Jon nods, and passes Martin the headphones.

And in a coffee shop on the Southbank, Jon’s gaze not breaking from him, Martin listens to the story of how the world ends.

#tma #the magnus archives #fic #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #no cws apply

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

fools in love

request from nonnie!!! “pls could you write a story about fred being real sad bc he hasn’t seen the reader in a long time since she’s a year younger and still in school and he’s super busy with the store and he has these huge plans for them and he’s just having a rough day and then he finally gets to see her after a long time??? thank you!!”

pairing: fred x reader

word count: 1.6k

A/N: a little shorter, but i hope you like what i’ve done with the prompt :D i’m notorious for writing a lot and making stories very, very long but i wanted to try and write something that was only one or two scenes and end it with a big grand gesture so i hope this leaves you all smiling!!

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy | message me if you’d like to be added lovelies

“Promise, it’ll go by so quickly, darling! I’ll see you soon.”

Fred felt stupid enough with all of these new customers looking as though they were positively in love with him, as he willingly and very quickly turned each and every one of them down, earning him eye rolls, a bombardment of questions and swift glances at his left ring finger to see if they could get any answers out of him for why he’d been rejecting them, exactly. He didn’t need to be reminded that he’d made a promise he wasn’t able to keep. He didn’t feel much like talking. He didn’t feel much like doing anything at all. He felt positively dreadful.

Surely, it couldn’t have been months since he’d last seen you, could it? But alas, it could. Surviving on letters alone and not much else, you’d planned on visiting him one long weekend at the beginning of your final term at Hogwarts. But when Professor Snape had caught you in the Owlery late one evening after hours, sending yet another letter to Fred, he’d placed you in detention for not only one weekend, but four. A whole bloody month. Hogwarts without Fred was seemingly miserable.

Fred, feeling more on edge than before, had plans for that weekend you’d meant to visit. Not just any plans, like showing you his and George’s new artwork for the shop, their new apartment just above it, their inventions that they’d just designed and were getting ready to market and sell after placing on the last finishing touches. It was the first time he’d be seeing you in months—more like years, it felt like. He’d wanted it to be special.

George dropped a very large box of Extendable Ears on the shop desk, took one out, and held it up to the bare spot where his missing ear should be. He grinned at Fred and said, “What’ve you said, mate? I can’t ear you!” He found himself rather funny, rightfully so, and earned himself a laugh from Fred, who was grateful for the few mere seconds of thoughts not surrounding how much he bloody missed you.

George, before closing up the shop for the evening and heading upstairs to make them both dinner, clapped his brother on the back and told him, “Just a few more weeks, Freddie. Don’t look so glum.”

Fred didn’t sleep that night. Maybe an hour or two. Which didn’t help in the morning when the sunshine brought in more customers than he could’ve imagined; the desolate, colorless street of Diagon Alley was swarmed with people visiting from all over. He barely had any time to collect himself and discuss the day’s endeavors with George—each of them were pulled in separate directions with hungry customers itching to get their hands on any and all Weasley products, even those that hadn’t hit shelves yet. Fred grinned cheekily at his twin from across their very busy store. Suppose his day could be looking up.

A few hours into it, and he reckoned he shouldn’t have spoken so soon. Not only had he nearly fallen off of a ladder reaching for something on the highest shelf (his wand was upstairs in his bedroom; not a great place for it) and caught himself on the front desk at the very last minute, earning a sharp pain in his ankle, he’d also needed to stop a few individuals from sneaking out without paying for their items, only to then be followed around by a girl who wouldn’t leave him alone and a very angry bloke who did nothing but complain and yell about how his pygmy puff wasn’t changing colors throughout the day (it wasn’t supposed too).

When the shop was finally empty and he had a chance to sit and actually feel the pain radiating from his feet up through his legs, he pulled at his hair and yanked off his tie; he was absolutely bloody exhausted and was not at all looking forward to the fact that he and George still needed to restock the shelves before the weekend’s end. Luckily, though, he’d been able to slip away and grab his wand.. should make things a bit easier.

George emerged from the storage closet wearing a very cheeky grin, and it only seemed to deepen when Fred frowned. “What’re you so chipper about?” he asked, unbuttoning his vest and throwing it haphazardly over the countertop.

“Bad day, Freddie?”

“Bloody hell,” Fred replied, letting his head fall into his hands. He frowned again, about to explode, but rethought his choice of words, “Not bad, per se, just—long. But I reckon that comes with the business eh?”

George just smiled as he slowly took some Weather in a Bottle products, Decoy Detonators, Basic Blaze Boxes and began to gingerly place them on some shelves.

“Seriously, mate,” Fred began, peering quizzically at his twin who looked as though he was trying very hard to suppress a big secret, “what’s up with you? Something happen you need to tell me about?”

“No, nothing,” George replied, and a larger grin lifted his cheeks, “I just reckon your day could still turn around, is all.”

Fred scoffed. “Yeah, right. Always have loved that enthusiasm of yours, Georgie.” George shrugged his shoulders, his smile only deepening yet again, when he suggested to Fred to head back to the supply closet to grab more of the newer items to place on display at the front of the store to attract more hungry crowds. Begrudgingly he went, not very keen on the sharp pain in his feet now extending all the way into his back. Merlin, he just wanted to lay down.

He took his wand out of his pocket, ready to Accio the nonsense out of all of these items, when something nearly scared the living daylights right out of him. A yelp escaped his lips. He jumped on the spot, whirled around quickly, and discovered a small light in the corner had been flicked on.

“You know,” you began, and crossed your arms in delight, “you’re quite a sight for sore eyes after a long day.”

A very large grin plastered itself across his face; suddenly, all pain in his body seemed to subside at the sight of you. Butterflies were engulfing him. He was positively bewildered at the sight of you. He felt like a right fool for screaming in his own shop, but couldn’t help but grin like mad. Without even thinking properly, he ran across the crowded space to you, lifted you up off of the table you’d been sitting on and spun you around, encasing you in a bone crushing hug you were bound to feel the effects of later.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked breathlessly as disbelief flooded his body.

You slapped him playfully. “You’re not the only one who can pull off the greatest of surprises, Fred Weasley.” You draped your arms across his shoulders and inched a little closer. He felt his insides twist in the best of ways; were you really here? “Reckon I could give you a run for your money.”

“You mean to tell me you’ve actually escaped the wrath of Severus Snape?”

You rolled your eyes casually. “Thank Merlin for McGonagall. Told me not to worry. Has Snape doing other sorts of business, so I doubt he even noticed. Right load of bollocks that was, wasn’t it?” He laughed haughtily at your jokes and his hands tightened around your abdomen.

“Got to hand it to you—you’ve certainly shocked me, that’s for sure.”

“Color you impressed?” you winked.

Kissing you for the first time in Merlin only knows how long nearly set his soul on fire; the steady pounding of his heart seemed to increase the second your lips touched his, the touch he’d been dying to feel, imagining over and over again in all the time you’d been apart. When you tried to pull away to tease him again, he pulled you back, noting that he wasn’t quite yet finished with you, and you both stayed there, your hands in his bright red hair and his gripping your whole body tightly, for several long minutes, or maybe even days.

“You, my love,” he started, tugging gently on your hair, “have no bloody idea just how much I’ve missed you.”

“Nah, I definitely know,” you replied cheekily, flipping your hair, earning a smirk and a wink from him. Then you softened and said breathlessly, “I’ve missed you, too. School’s just dreadful without you.”

He felt a pang in his chest. It had always been difficult being a year apart, especially now with them owning the shop and you still attending Hogwarts. You’d seen one another nearly every single day for six years, even before you got together. It was strange having that all shift dramatically. “I’ll just have to make it up to you then.”

“Oh yeah? Like how?”

“Got a few surprises up my sleeve.”

“Oh really?” you asked, placing a hand to your hip and grinning like mad. “You didn’t even know I was coming! How could you already have something planned?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and continued, “Think you’re going to out-surprise me? Think again, Weasley.”

You pressed your lips gently to his again; the feeling of your eyelashes softly brushing his cheeks sent him into a tizzy. He held you delicately in his hands, as if he were afraid you were going to break, or slip right through his fingers. He opened his eyes, just for a moment, to make sure that yours were still closed. When he saw that they were, he closed his again and gently, very gently ran his hand over the very tiny box he had hidden away in his pocket, holding what would seemingly replace the gold band you had on your left ring finger that’d been there since you were little. He felt the edges of the box against his fingers.. the box that had been there ever since he purchased it a few months ago. Another surge of raging fire raced through his bones; he was sure it was from both you running your hands absentmindedly down his chest, and also the thought of what the weekend would bring. Guess his plans hadn’t been ruined after all.

When you parted and you brought your hands to his cheeks, gently running your hands across his stubble, his smile just deepened at the happiness radiating off of you. He could hardly wait to out-surprise you. “We’ll just see about that, darling.”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated! thanks darlings for always reading and requesting x

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins fanfic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #hp imagine #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #weasleys wizard wheezes #fred weasley one shot

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sad-af1121 · 5 years

Text

It’s You: Part 1

Summary: In which your date doesn’t go well and you meet a stranger who makes you forget all about it with his witty charm. But no numbers or names are exchanged between you two, leaving you both hopeless yet love crazed, never to find one another. Or so you think. Modern AU | Requested by Anon | Pairings: Bucky Barnes x CurlyHaired! Reader Word Count: 3k Warnings: language, sexual remarks, full-on fluff and comedy

A/N: This story actually happened to a close friend of mine and I couldn’t get over how cute it was bc now they’re married! | Thanking @isaxhorror for giving this a look through! Feedback is welcomed 💜

“Fucking jerk,” you annoyingly muttered under your breath, marching out of the posh restaurant where you left your asshole of a date behind.

Something about tonight gave you hope that you’d have a nice time out, however, your gut instinct was totally off. Not only was your Tinder date an hour late to dinner, but was disgustingly taken aback by the way you looked, pressing that you didn’t look the same as you did in your profile picture. The only difference was your hair for crying out loud!

Naturally, you had bouncy, long voluminous curls and sometimes, you liked to straighten them for a new look. Unfortunately, your date didn’t like that fact and claimed you had scammed him into a date. The rage that boiled deep inside you was the least of his worries because when he asked if the curtain matches the drapes down under, you happily splashed a cold glass of water into his face, before gracefully walking out of the room with your middle finger in the air.

A mischievous grin twitched at the corners of your lips as you recalled what happened a few minutes ago and you couldn't help but giggle. Now, that part was pretty amusing and you had to give yourself credit for that.

“Glad to see someone’s having a better night than I am.”

A deep, gravelly voice that was smooth and soft like a harmony of angels lured you back into reality, causing you to turn your attention towards the source. There stood a tall, well-built man whose features were crafted by the goddess of beauty herself. His ice blue orbs captivated every one of your senses, causing a hitch in your breath. Your own eyes scanned his, searching for his intentions, but they were soft, holding a kindness that was rare nowadays.

“I’m sorry?” you tilted your head, smirking and shaking away the trance-like state you were in. This time, you watched his lips curl into a lop-sided grin while he took a moment to timidly look to the ground then back to your eyes as a lock of his chestnut brown hair fell in front of his face.

“I enjoyed what you did back there, almost choked on my drink. But the guy deserved it though,” He chuckled, allowing his tongue to glide over his lips, and what lips he had.

Again, you felt the air vanish from your lungs, making it even harder to respond to the godly handsome man before you. Heat rose to your cheeks and you decided to giggle, a response from a mixture of anxiety and nervousness.

“Uh, yeah he did. Basically called my curls wild so,” you instinctively twirled a piece of your hair around your finger before letting it fall on your shoulder. The man scoffed, pushing his hair back as he looked up into the night sky.

“Unbelievable,” he breathed, bringing his gaze back to you. “Clearly he doesn’t see how beautiful they are.” His sweet, honey-suckled tone made your knees weak and you felt your heart thud a little faster as it swelled, the heat rising back to your face.

You scanned him once more, squinting amusingly to see what game he was playing. “Thank you, but what makes you say that?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you cocked your head to the side.

“Well,” he trailed off, ”for starters, they’re natural. I mean c’mon, some girls would die for those curls. Just end up burning their fingers when they try with a curler.” He snorted, causing you to laugh with him. Your laughter alone made the man grin a little wider, the beautiful sound stringing at his heart like a melodious tune.

“You’ve got a point,” you agreed, mentally walking down memory lane since you have had women would come up to you to either touch your hair or ask what ethnicity you were. It was flattering from time to time, but not all the time, “But what else makes them beautiful?”

“They always smell good and I mean better than girls with straight hair. Guessin’ it’s the products you gotta put in your curls to stay that bouncy and full. Oh, and my third reasoning is,“ he mocked, grinning because, at this point, he was pulling your leg and somehow knew you were going to ask to tell you more, “Because they’re just sexy. Girls who aren’t afraid of their curls show confidence, and you, doll, are radiating with it.”

Your mouth silently dropped then morphed into a smile because he was right, his sudden urge of confidence surprising you. Most men would say sexual innuendos regarding your curls but not him.

“W-wow, thanks,” was all you could say to that, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear when the night breeze decided to make its presence, welcoming itself inside your hair and bringing it to life. And if it wasn’t for your hair flowing in every direction, you’d be struggling to put together letters to form words, then sentences; a constant battle you figured you were having whilst in the presence of this man. What could you possibly say after that? You knew your head was in the right place, but your body acted on its own accord and it left you wondering why. Why was a stranger like him having this effect on you?

There was something in the way he carried himself and you couldn’t put your finger on it. You found his energy to be addicting, longing for more and not in a sexual sense. It was more so in drowning in his presence and him overall. You couldn’t recall a time where someone made you feel this vulnerable yet awoke like he did.

“Jeez, where are my manners… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was not my intention.” His brows furrowed while he smiled apologetically, placing a hand on his chest.

You were yet again, pulled out from your thoughts, instantly shake your head to his words, “Oh no! It’s okay, I really appreciate the compliment. Makes me feel better about this thing,” you blew out a laugh, touching your curls. The man laughed with you, nodding as he understood. Hearing his laughter brought a brighter smile across your face and it made you bite your lip in content.

“Well, I should be going, it’s getting kinda late. ‘N you should get home safely too, Miss. It was nice talkin’ to ya.”

“Miss?” What happened to “doll”?

Before you could get a chance to ask for his name or number, he was already walking away from you and you wanted to beat yourself for not opening your mouth sooner. Shouting after him would make things awkward, plus you were standing in the middle of a sidewalk and didn’t want to expose any personal information publicly anyhow.

Pouting, you hailed a cab and looked back to see if the odd man would meet your eyes but luck wasn’t on your side because he was gone. Maybe your gut was right after all because you wanted to see that man again. Even if that meant going on another horrible date, just to see if he’s there to whisk you away like he did tonight.

***

“You said what now?”

“Ugh! Sam, you’re not making this any easier on me! I think I scared her away.” Bucky groaned, grabbing the couch cushion and burying his face in it. Ever since he came back from the bar, he couldn’t get you off of his mind and it was driving him crazy. The only way he could have some mental relief was if he shared the story with his roommates but he may be regretting it.

“Nah, man. I’m trying to understand how you weren’t able to get her name or phone number when you were flirting with her. You were on a roll too!” Sam threw his hands in the air as he got up from his seat. Steve, on the other hand, wasn’t judging Bucky as much as Sam was.

“Look, see if you can get her number or name from the lady at the reservation desk. Just say you found her glasses or something and would love to give it back.” Steve suggested, placing a hand on his friend’s knee.

“That ain’t gonna work, man! You see how fancy that place is; they’re not gonna give out information like that to just anyone.” Sam clarified, shooting down Bucky’s chance to ever find you.

“She probably thinks I’ve got some weird hair kink or somethin’. Ugh, why does this happen to me!” Bucky whined, shoving his face deep into the pillow. His friends exchange looks before sighing in unison.

“I mean you do man-”

“I think what Sam and I are trying to say is that you’re just overthinking about this, Buck. From what you told me, she sounded like she was having a better time with you than she was with her date.” Steve acknowledged. “We can ask Stark to call the restaurant and get her number that way if you’d like?”

Bucky sighed, removing the pillow from his face and tossing it to the side, his shoulders slumped with defeat. “No, it’s enough that we work for his dad. The least amount of favors we ask him, the less we owe him things, aka paperwork.” He dreaded, before rubbing away the exhaustion from his eyes. It’s been a year since Bucky’s dated anyone and it’s like his mind and body forgot what it was like.

Tonight was the first of what he thought would be many dates yet the girl never showed up, prompting Bucky to have a couple drinks at the bar. If he hadn’t turned around from his seat, then Bucky would have never seen you walk in. The room itself became empty, vacant of any soul other than his and yours. It was the most breathtaking view he had ever come across. Describing it was difficult but the closest comparison Bucky thought of was the moment the sun settled along the waters, painting the sky in colors of purples and oranges. So vibrant and alive that it leaves you frozen in time, never wanting the moment to end.

Bucky Barnes wasn’t for one to believe in love at first sight, yet there he was, picturing his entire life with you, a mere stranger. Perhaps the art of love was recognizing a soul loved in a past life and falling in love with them again.

***

Staring out the window of your apartment, you nursed a mug of coffee, the warmth and aroma comforting your senses. Events from earlier rewind in your head, each time breaking a smile across your face. It felt like a dream, or a scene from a movie because you couldn’t believe how perfect it was, how he was.

But each time you’ve thought about the man, it brought sadness too. If only you could go back in time and ask for his name, that’s all you would have needed, because at least he would have known yours.

“What’s with the frown, Y/N?” Wanda asked, pushing back your damp hair as she tried to read your face.

Jerking just slightly, you turn away from the window to see your friends standing around you. Their expressions filled with worry and amusement but quickly diminishes when you huffed out a laugh. “When did you guys get back?”

“Just now,” Clint said, kicking off his shoes and throwing his body onto the couch before groaning in satisfaction. “I’ve been aching to get home and relax my feet. Thanks to these two, I had another workout carrying their bags.”

“Is that a complaint I hear, Clint?” Nat raised a brow with a smirk and looked over at Wanda who eagerly smiled with the red-head.

“Ah, fuck!” Clint groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I hate your stupid betting games,” he mumbled.

“If they’re so stupid, why do you play with us?” Wanda added, crossing her arms.

“Because he’s the one who starts them,” you snorted and walked away from the window, throwing a balled-up piece of paper at Clint’s head.

“Are we gonna ignore the fact that she was frowning?” Clint brought up, shielding his head from possibly another assault but soon realizing there wasn’t going to be one.

“Yes, for now,” Nat assured, “You owe me 50 bucks aaand I get to pick out a movie for Sunday too.”

“That wasn’t part of the bet!”

As the two bickered on, Wanda gently tapped your shoulder, scooting closer from her spot on the couch. “Why were you frowning earlier? Was the date bad?”

You chuckled, nodding “Yeah. An hour late, cocky attitude and piss poor manners. But I got to splash water on his face before I left so... I'm happy.”

“Oh my god, you did good! He deserved way more than water, but good!” Wanda giggled, linking her arm with yours.

“Yeah. But then I met this guy outside the restaurant,” you smiled brightly, “A total hottie and he had manners! He saw what happened and I guess he came to check up on me when I left. Or maybe he was already there and I hadn’t noticed…” you trailed off with uncertainty, overthinking about your encounter with the man.

“Did you get lost in your thoughts like you usually do?” Wanda smiled, her eagerness to hear more about the mystery man bottling inside her.

Sighing, you lean your back against the cushions, “I suppose I did, but when I told him my awful date made crude remarks about my curls, he said they were beautiful. And said I wear my curls with confidence and he could see that. Said it was sexy.”

Natasha, Clint, and Wanda could see the smile growing back on your face, the three eyeing in curiosity which left the room quiet. You hadn’t noticed your cheeks changed in color, the blood flooding your skin.

“Y/N,” Natasha said softly, rounding the coffee table to sit in front of you while Clint sat up, keeping his eyes on your expression. “Are you in loooove?” She teased, poking your stomach.

“What!” you blinked, dread flooding your every sense as you smacked her hands away.

“You sure, Nat? She gives that same look when she sees miniature cakes,” Clint snorted before yelping in pain by your smack to his arm. “I was only kidding, Jesus Christ.”

“Come on, Y/N. Are you crushing hard on this mystery man? Please tell us more,” she requested with joy bubbling inside her.

Placed in an awkward position you scoffed, “N-no! I don’t even know the guy, let alone know his name! How could I be in love? You guys are insane.” It was a mixture of embarrassment and guilt. You weren’t exactly sure if you were in love or fond of the man’s simple affection towards you. But then again, you’d give and do anything to see him once more. Around him, you felt like you were on top of the world, soaring through the skies, that nothing else mattered except you and him.

Getting up from the couch, you stomped your way into the kitchen, placing your mug into the sink to avoid any more of their pestering questions and assumptions. However, that didn't stop Clint from chasing after you, a smirk lacing his mischievous features.

“Hey, we’re not judgin’ ya if you have a crush. It’s just kind of weird, ya know? We don’t usually see you like this.”

He had a point. You weren’t the kind to fall so easily for someone you just met. Nevertheless, you had your reasons why this man felt different than any other person you came across.

Maybe I’m thinking too much into this.

“Besides that point! Don’t forget you have another date tomorrow,” Clint added as you turned to look at him with furrowed brows and confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“When you couldn’t get Wanda to say ‘moist’ within 24 hours, remember the bet?” He reminded with a sigh, wondering how you’re able to keep up with your busy work schedule but not remember small things like this.

Taking a minute to collect your thoughts, you remembered exactly what he was referring to, groaning in frustration that you forgot about the stupid wager. Clint had owed a friend from work so you had to go on a date with that friend’s friend. As complicated as it sounded, you had to hold up your end.

“Ugh, fine yes. I remember. When is it again?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, wanting this night to be over already.

“Tomorrow night, missy.”

“Ew, a blind date set up by Clint; what could go wrong?” Nat snickered, high fiving with Wanda who also couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

“Please, after this date, no more. I’m quite capable of finding people to mingle with on my own,” you stressed.

“Fine, fair enough. I’ll drive you there.” Clint stated, pulling out his phone to look at his calendar.

With that, you left the kitchen and went straight to your room to finally relax your body and mind. Today was draining enough and now, you couldn’t get rid of your nerves for tomorrow. You hated blind dates but you had to woman up and just do the thing, whether or not you wanted to. As you stepped out from your robe and changed into a t-shirt and shorts, you heard your phone chime on your bed. Adjusting your waistband, you stepped closer to your phone screen to get a better look, squinting at the brightly lit screen.

Clint: “Btw, his name is James ;) ”

PART 2

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17mounteens · 5 years

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Itch (Seungkwan)

Request: hi !! could i please request a seungkwan soulmate university AU where ur friends with jeonghan whos met his soulmate, but u only recently got close so he introduces u to his friends and u have to excuse urself w jeonghan bc ur tattoo starts to itch and u dont know whats going on,, ill leave the rest to u tysm !!

» You’re friends with Jeonghan, who’s a year above you at your university. He’s already met his soulmate, and as you continue thinking about yours whom you were yet to meet, he figures that having you meet his friends could cheer you up. Your soulmate tattoo acts up, which leads you to discover your soulmate.

» If you’re using the tumblr app and can’t see the scenario, which is under a “keep reading”, please try opening the post in your phone’s internet browser (or a computer)! 💕

» 4,090 words

Turning seventeen was a turning point for everyone. Until then no one was expected to care about their soulmate, although some were still wary of growing feelings towards anyone with the knowledge that they might not be meant for them. You, on the other hand, had been one of those who didn’t really think about it much and instead followed your heart while living life to the fullest.

However, it wouldn’t last forever, and after you woke up during the night before your seventeenth birthday, nothing had been the same.

You had woken up due a tingling, irritating sensation on the back of your right shoulder, and when you had looked at it from the mirror in the morning, you could only stare at the soulmate tattoo that had formed there, a beautiful depiction of what seemed like two flowers meshed together.

Ever since then you had spent countless sleepless nights just gently tracing the tattoo, wondering what the person who had an identical tattoo on the back of their right shoulder was like.

Would they be your type? Would they have similar values with you? Would you share any interests with them? Would your personalities match?

It kept you awake a lot, really. While it was said that your soulmate would be the person you’re the best match for, by the time you were in your second year of university you knew about several occasions where the match had been everything but made in heaven.

That was yet another day when you had gotten lost in thought, thinking about what-ifs regarding your soulmate, and it had not gone unnoticed by Jeonghan. He was a year above you, but since his part-time job had taken a fair share of his time, he was still doing some second-year courses, where you had also met half a year earlier. You hadn’t really started getting closer until recently, however, after you had worked together on a longer project and realized that you got along very well and had a lot of things in common.

And, since he had already met his soulmate, you felt like he was providing you with some sort of support as you still waited for the day when you’d finally meet yours.

“Y/N,” Jeonghan called from the other side of the table you were seated by in the library, and grinned at you when you jolted. “I don’t think thinking about your soulmate will help you in the exam.”

You pouted at your friend, but nodded in defeat. “I know. It’s just… when will I meet them?”

“When the time is right,” Jeonghan said, half-joking, but you knew well that that was the general answer.

“How did you meet your soulmate?” you asked, your eyes trained on the tattoo on Jeonghan’s inner wrist, and only moved your gaze into his dreamy brown eyes when he hummed.

“They came to the convenience store five minutes before my shift ended,” he said with a snort, and you felt your heart drop at how close it had been that he hadn’t met his soulmate that time. “And, you know, when they paid for their things I saw the inside of their wrist, and I just couldn’t let it go.”

You nodded and slowly drifted back to your daydreams, from which Jeonghan would eventually pull you out of again.

You couldn’t help but wonder how you’d meet your soulmate and when. Would it be a similar close call, and more importantly, had you already missed a chance to meet them?

Days went by and your sense of longing for a person you didn’t even know only remained, and as you and Jeonghan also continued hanging out more and more, he had come up with an attempt to cheer you up a little.

You were studying at a cafe that was surprisingly quiet considering the amount of customers, and after eyeing you for a while, Jeonghan finally spoke up.

“Say, Y/N,” he began thoughtfully and placed his pen between his upper lip and nose, from where it fell when you snorted at the sight and he laughed heartily. Knowing that he had your attention, he continued, looking at you warmly. “We’re pretty close now and all, and I’ve got some friends who want to meet you. Are you up for that?”

“Why do they want to meet me?” you asked incredulously, squinting your eyes a little, and Jeonghan couldn’t help but giggle at how adorable he thought you looked.

“I’ve told them a lot of fun stories and they’re always up for meeting new cool people,” Jeonghan noted, and although your mind immediately jumped to what kind of fun stories he could possibly mean, you also found yourself smiling almost smugly.

“I’m cool now?” you asked while scribbling on your notebook.

“Their words, not mine,” Jeonghan said and laughed when you threw him a quick glare. “But so, are you up for it?”

“Sure,” you hummed, mentally going through all the friends you’d ever heard Jeonghan talk about. “So it’ll be… who?”

Jeonghan listed you the names, and you smiled at the memory rules of a kind he had after each one: you weren’t the only one he enjoyed telling stories about. Mingyu, the accident-prone guy who was still the person to go to for help. Joshua, his best friend who had two very different sides to him. Seokmin, the one you got a fun story about at least once a week. Seungkwan, the one who always livened the atmosphere and took care of everyone. And, as the last person Jeonghan could fit into his apartment, Seungcheol, the only one who could ever drag him out for a workout.

“Sounds like a good crowd,” you hummed and nodded. “When?”

“This Friday,” Jeonghan grinned, excited to have all of you meet, which he hoped would not only cheer you up but also enable him to hang out with all of you at once.

Besides, he had a feeling you’d get along with his friends just fine, and so far he hadn’t met anyone who would’ve said no to discovering new people they enjoyed being with.

You waited for Friday with excitement and anxiety, feeling a sense of pressure about meeting people who, at least according to Jeonghan, wanted to meet you. You couldn’t help but feel like they were expecting you to be somehow cool and amazing, and you weren’t sure if you were what they expected.

All you could do, you supposed, was to calm yourself down and meet them with an open mind and, as difficult as it may feel, be yourself.

And so, that Friday you were headed to Jeonghan’s place. When you were still several meters away from the door leading to the hallway, you saw someone open the door to go in, which made you speed up.

Fortunately you didn’t have to raise your voice to ask them to keep the door open for you, as the dark-haired boy turned around right on time and looked at you, and without a word kept the door open until you could get in, too.

“Thank you,” you said with a small smile when you finally reached the door, and felt a new sensation run through your body when your gaze met the boy’s.

Like electricity.

“No problem,” he said warmly and walked to the elevator, where you followed him. After pressing the button to the fourth floor, he turned to look at you. “What floor are you going to?”

“Ah, the fourth, too,” you said and clutched the strap of the bag you had on one of your shoulders.

It was the first time you were feeling so many things in the company of a stranger, and you were confused, to say the least.

Your heart was beating a bit faster, and while you felt restless you also felt comfortable. You had never met the boy before, but there was something very familiar - reassuring - about him, and that feeling only confused you more.

Once the elevator doors opened on the fourth floor, you walked to Jeonghan’s door, and were all the more surprised when the boy stopped next to you and reached to knock on the door.

This time it was you turning to him, mustering up all of your courage before speaking. “Are you one of Jeonghan’s friends?”

“Yeah,” he smiled and tilted his head a little. “I’m Seungkwan. Unless he’s invited more people, I take it you’re Y/N?”

You nodded with a small smile, and somehow the stories you had heard from Jeonghan, most of them positive, made Seungkwan appear all the more warm and comfortable to you.

Before the two of you were able to get further than saying that you were happy to meet one another, Jeonghan was already opening the door and grinning at the two of you.

“Oh, I see you two have already met,” he snickered and let you in to his apartment, where the others were pretty much gathered around the coffee table, some sitting on the floor and some on the couch. Jeonghan looked at the others and pointed at the two of you, as though showcasing you. “Y/N and Seungkwan are here.”

Everyone greeted you with bright smiles, and all you could do was scan through the faces, some of which you had seen in photos that Jeonghan had shown you, but you could hardly put a name and face together for any of them.

After you and Seungkwan had gotten your shoes and jackets off and everything, you joined the others by the table that had plenty of snacks and beverages to enjoy. Everyone was excited and eager to introduce themselves to you, and while you were a bit nervous in such a new situation with strangers, their antics made you feel more at ease fairly soon.

You were sitting next to Seungkwan, who somehow only made you feel more comfortable, and his affectionate bickering with Mingyu made you snort from time to time, which he noted with an amused smile.

Not too long into chatting with everyone, you frowned and reached for your tattoo to rub it. It was starting to get itchy, but for the time being you deemed it to simply be irritation for whatever reason; you never knew.

However, as the evening progressed, the itch got worse and worse, to the point where it took up most of your thoughts. You were uncomfortable, constantly rubbing or scratching or grazing the tattoo with your nails, but it never kept the itch away for more than a few seconds. By then you had moved to the kitchen to try to deal with it while drinking water, and Jeonghan was standing by the wall with Seokmin, who seemed to be telling a story.

Sighing, you figured Jeonghan might be able to help you, and so you placed your hand on your tattoo and walked up to Jeonghan and Seokmin. Jeonghan turned to look at you with surprise written all over his face, and his expression turned more concerned when he saw your puzzled expression that also gave away that you were feeling rather uncomfortable.

“Can I borrow you for a sec?” you asked, and Jeonghan frowned a little, but once he saw where you kept your hand, he immediately nodded and let you drag him into his small bedroom.

“Are you okay?” he asked when you were in the peace of his bedroom, and you nodded while lightly scratching your tattoo.

“I guess, it’s just… my tattoo is itching a lot and I don’t know why, and I thought maybe you could help me a little,” you said through your discomfort, and once you lifted your gaze to Jeonghan’s eyes, you were surprised to see them as big as they were.

His eyebrows only seemed to rise more and more, and when you quirked your eyebrow, urging him to just spill it, he melted into a playful smile. “Y/N, that’s kind of… that means you’re near your soulmate.”

You processed his words for a moment, and the more of it registered in your brain the faster your heart started beating.

You were near your soulmate.

Having been at Jeonghan’s place some times before without any itching on your tattoo, you figured that maybe it wasn’t the location but the people, and so you slowly moved your gaze out of the bedroom door, scanning over his friends that you’d just met.

With the widest grin you’d ever seen on his face, Jeonghan turned to look back into the living room, too, scanning over his guests. “I really wonder who it is.”

You could only nod as you looked around as well, your heart beating fast in your chest at the possibility of meeting your soulmate. Your gaze went over everyone again and again, yet you were constantly drawn to a very particular guy with a loud laugh, a bright smile and a habit of fixing his fringe by a shake of his head.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you took note of just how often he was rubbing the back of his right shoulder, always accompanied by a puzzled frown.

Before you were able to finish your thought, Jeonghan turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised. “I think your soulmate might be Seungkwan.”

And as soon as you thought about how you had felt in his company that evening, starting from the very first time your gazes met at the door to the hallway, it all made sense.

How you hadn’t realized to think more of it was beyond you, and you still weren’t sure if your soulmate really would be Seungkwan, but you were itching to find out - quite literally, too, you noted bitterly as you tapped your tattoo with your nails in an attempt to ease the itch a little.

“How did you not realize this before?” you asked Jeonghan with a pout and hit his arm with your hand lightly.

He was still grinning almost uncontrollably, and he looked at you warmly while shrugging. “He’s just really the type to keep his shirt on and while we’ve talked about soulmates, he’s never shown me the tattoo.”

“Okay,” you huffed, and felt your heart flutter the slightest bit when Jeonghan mumbled something about having a feeling about you getting along particularly well with Seungkwan.

“Alright Y/N, come on, time to get things going,” Jeonghan more or less declared before you were able to ask him to explain himself, and he quickly took your hand into his before dragging you back to the living room, where he brought you to Seungkwan.

Seeing the two of you approach, Seungkwan turned away from the song cover video Joshua was showing him and instead looked up at Jeonghan with his eyebrows raised.

“Seungkwan, Y/N here has to go home and I think you’re just the person to walk them there. I think you guys have a lot to talk about,” Jeonghan said energetically, and you felt your heart jump to your throat when Seungkwan turned to look at you, right into your eyes.

His eyes dilated a little as soon as his gaze met yours, and you just knew he’d felt the jolt of electricity, too.

“Do you live far?” he asked, and feeling a sudden surge of confusion wash over you, you nodded and shook your head at the same time. Seungkwan snorted, at which you felt your cheeks heat up and shook your head to clear your thoughts.

“Not that far,” you said, and got a playful nod from him.

“It’s fine, I could use a longer walk, too,” he hummed and got up from the couch.

A small smile spread to your lips, and the sight of it made him smile, too, and Jeonghan gently ushered the two of you to the door while the others laughed.

“Are you coming back?” Joshua asked Seungkwan from the couch, and after checking the time on his phone, Seungkwan shook his head.

Jeonghan, too, shook his head knowingly. “He has other things to do.”

Seungkwan threw his friend a confused look, but before he was able to ask Jeonghan what he thought he knew, you were already opening the door. “Alright, it was nice to meet you guys! See you again!”

The others replied with similar words, and after Seungkwan had gotten into the hallway and you were about to close the door, you still got a wink from Jeonghan. “Good luck.”

“Shush,” you groaned in a whisper, already feeling nervous and stressed, and took in a deep breath after closing the door.

You turned around and nearly jolted at the way Seungkwan was staring at you.

“Did you really need me to walk you home?” he asked, playfulness all over his voice and tone, and you found yourself shaking your head with an embarrassed smile on your face. He laughed. “Then why?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re walking,” you blurted, and let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding when Seungkwan agreed to wait.

The two of you took the elevator back down in comfortable silence, and as you stepped into the street, he looked at you curiously, waiting for you to say something.

You licked your lips slowly as you built up the courage to bring up the topic of your possibly matching soulmate tattoos, and when you spoke you did it as steadily as you could with your heart hammering in your chest. “So… I noticed you’ve been rubbing your right shoulder a lot.”

He gave you an embarrassed smile and rubbed the spot in question a little. “Yeah, I don’t know what’s happening. My tattoo’s never been like this before.”

“Jeonghan said that it’s related to being near your soulmate,” you blurted, and he stopped in his tracks. When you turned to look at him, you were met with a quirked eyebrow, and it was with a quivering smile that you turned a little and tugged down your jacket and the collar of your shirt to show him your tattoo. “Mine’s been itching a lot tonight, too.”

Seungkwan could only stare at your tattoo in silence. His heart was racing in his chest as he tried to find any differences between your tattoos, but ultimately failed. When he spoke, he sounded dazed. “They’re identical.”

“Do you… want to show me?” you asked quietly, letting go of your collar, and nervously turned back to face him properly and watched him slide his denim jacket down, after which he tugged at his collar, too, to reveal a tattoo identical to yours.

Your feelings could hardly be described with words. Your eyes watered as you stared at the tattoo with a happy smile spreading to your lips, strong waves of disbelief, relief, serenity and gratitude washing over you.

When Seungkwan turned to look into your eyes, you could see his eyes glistening under the street lights, too. “I never thought I’d meet you like this.”

Nodding silently, you bit down on the inside of your lower lip and swallowed your tears when you felt his hand shyly reaching for yours, which only seemed to make you more emotional.

Chuckling softly, Seungkwan gave you an amused look despite being emotional, too. “Do you want a hug, maybe?”

You hadn’t exactly ever hugged someone you’d just met nor had you wanted to, but Seungkwan wasn’t just anyone and you were feeling the most vulnerable you ever had, and so you found yourself nodding, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around him loosely as you hid your face in his shoulder.

He slowly wrapped his arms around you, too, and you felt his nose on the side of your head as he embraced you. You could almost feel how fast his heart was beating, and it made you laugh, after which you sniffled quietly.

The two of you stood there hugging one another for a good two minutes before pulling apart, feeling overwhelmed, to say the least, and Seungkwan smiled at you warmly while you wiped your cheeks with your sleeves. “Do you want to grab something to drink and just… go somewhere more peaceful?”

“I’d love that,” you said, looking into his eyes with a sense of security settling into your heart, and walked with him to the nearest cafe with your knuckles brushing against each other’s every now and then.

Only after you had gotten your drinks and left the cafe did you dare to reach for his hand and hold it, looking at him from the corner of your eye to make sure it was okay. When you saw Seungkwan’s lips curve into a smile you concluded that it probably was, and so you walked to a small park that was pleasantly quiet at that time of the evening.

You found yourselves a bench by the path and settled there comfortably, facing each other with your cups on the bench between the two of you as you started to get to know each other, all the way from the basics - how old you were, where you studied, what your families were like and so forth.

It didn’t take long for both of you to feel like you were hanging out with someone you had known for a while already, and the playful teasing came more or less naturally for both of you.

The past five years you had been thinking about what your soulmate would be like, and now that you had met him, you were over the moon. If not perfect, at least he seemed promising.

He made you laugh, he read you well, he had good manners and seemed to vibe well with you, on top of which you did find him incredibly attractive, to the point where it made you a bit stressed.

All in all your worries faded away as hours passed and you and Seungkwan talked about everything that came to mind. Neither of you really wanted to part ways, but when you yawned for the fifth time in a short period of time, Seungkwan chuckled softly.

“Should I now walk you home?” he asked playfully and grazed the back of your hand lightly with his finger.

Giving him a tired smile, you nodded and looked into his eyes. “I think that’s a good idea.”

With that the two of you left the park, and after disposing your cups you reached for his hand, which you held onto during the walk to your place. He smiled when he noticed his heart flutter a little at that, and you, in turn, smiled when you felt him squeeze your hand.

You walked while continuing the excited chatter, and once you reached your building, Seungkwan pouted and looked at you, at that point holding your pinky finger with his. “Do you want to meet again at some point?”

“At some point?” you asked with a grin and laughed heartily. “We’re soulmates, I’d love to meet you again, whenever you have time. Preferably soon. I’m free tomorrow.”

He laughed at your obvious excitement and looked at you warmly. “I’ve got nothing tomorrow, either. And you’re sure it’s not too soon?”

“I think we’ve waited enough,” you said softly and took a step closer to him. “Meeting again so soon doesn’t have to mean we won’t take it slow.”

“Alright,” Seungkwan nodded, and after he let go of your pinky finger you felt him place his hand lightly on your back. “So… dinner?”

“Why not lunch?” you asked playfully, knowing full well why, and laughed when he looked at you with that look.

“Well, first of all, we just spent five hours talking in the park, it’s three in the morning and I need my sleep,” he listed and laughed afterwards. Then his gaze softened again. “And I think dinner will take longer, which means we get to talk more.”

“You’ve got a point,” you grinned and nodded and leaned in for a hug, during which you inhaled his scent that already felt comfortable and all kinds of pleasant to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow. And please let me know when you get home.”

“I will,” Seungkwan said quietly and hugged you with a serene smile on his lips.

Soon you were standing in the hallway, watching him walk away as warmth took over your chest.

A back covered by a denim jacket had never looked so good, and the message you got next made you smile more than most.

”I know you’re still there. Please go up and get comfortable. 😙”

Admin Scooter

#seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff

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tarithenurse · 5 years

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Agent of Hope - 19

Your world falls into ruin together with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcements Logistics Division when you find out that your boyfriend isn’t one of the good guys. Pairing: Brock Rumlow x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader Contents: Hmmm...weapons, fluff, dealing with trauma, mention of rape, masturbation, violent reaction, difficult choices, more fluff, and kissing. A/N: Thanks to all of you who like and especially reblog <3 On a second note: been looking for houses (need to move out of my parents’ place with my husband bc omfc). Also that GIF just is epic.

19 - An offer you can’t refuse

… Romanoff …

The tinny jingle from the Goldfish commercials doesn’t cause hesitation to the hands moving rapidly to find and connect the right parts needed in the task of assembling three different guns. Only when the last weapon is locked (and loaded) does Natasha spin the cell phone on the table with a frown. Unknown caller, but the small dots in the corner indicate that Jarvis is tracking down the number already and will have an answer in three…two…one…ugh! Langley.

“Afternoon.” The tone is flat enough to show the lack of enthusiasm without being downright rude. “What more does Langley want post-hearings?”

She can almost hear the crooked smile. “Hrph…I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, miss Romanova.” The twist to the last name sends shivers down the former Russian’s spine but the familiar voice continues. “I’m agent Ross…we met during the hearings…?”

The silence is allowed to reign in an attempt to get the man to talk, maybe say too much. Meanwhile, Natasha brings the Glock 26 behind the back and starts to dismantle it, counting the seconds it takes before every piece of metal is spread out on the couch cushion behind her, careful not to lose the pins or the little spring for the trigger.

“Miss uhm…miss Romanova? You there?”

Nervous. Not enough. “…yeah.”

“Good! Good. Yes…” Some paper rustles through the line. “Right…I know the hearings’ve been long and prob’ly bothersome,” agent Ross hesitates to allow for some comment but gets none, “s’I can completely understand and respect if y’aren’t interested, however…I believe that you may ‘ave information that could be of benefit to u- to the Agency, I mean, in terms of filling some gaps. Erm I think…what I’m trying to say’s would it be possible for you to – off record – have a look at our older intel?”

Wait…waaiit…one more second. An intake of breath is Natasha’s cue. “You want me to shed light on old cases that’ve gone sideways?”

“Well –“

“You think either SHIELD, Hydra, or maybe my former handlers could’ve botched it for you guys?” By now the short agent’s sputtering in embarrassment, maybe hoping for the weak protests to soothe any slights the insinuation could have caused. “Send me a top ten and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Really?!”

Yeah, why would I? Simply put, Natasha hates being out of the loop, and the spy in her is aching for the chance of (legally) getting hold of CIA intel. More than that, though, she’s learned the hard way how precious the currency known as “favours” are. Owe someone something? They’ll have a hook in you forever. Someone owes you? It can be the difference between life and death. An IOU from a CIA agent…that could be handy.

“No promises I can actually tell you more than y’know already.”

Movement behind her makes the Avenger turn her head, a smile already curving her lips at the presence of [Y/N] who eyes the weapons (and parts) cautiously.

“Oh, no! That’s okay, no worries!” An idiot might refuse the tentative offer and Ross is far from that. “I’ll compile the files and get them to…you…uhm…”

“I’ll text you an address.” A slightly oil-greased finger hovers over the phone already. “Bye, agent Everett Ross.”

… Rumlow …

The fly circles the room a few times before finally settling on the person in the corner, climbing across brown-stained jeans in short sprints before reaching the lax hand and taking off again. Next time the insect lands it’s by the dried spatter on the wall where the bullet had made a small crater when it exited the skull of…who was that? A glance at the pens and the old-fashioned glasses makes Brock guess at some dusty field of expertise like history or literature. Whatever it had been, the man had decided it was better to risk it all and go looking for Hydra on nothing but a rumour.

“Don’t mind zat,” Strucker dismisses the sight easily, “ze interesting zing is zis.” Careful not to touch, he points at the darkened veins and (with the help of a metal rod) the unnaturally blue eyes. “Ze experiment was quite a success, my friend. We are able to channel ze power of ze weapon into humans.”

“They all end up like this so far?” The eyelid hasn’t lowered again, so the endless glow of space is staring blindly at Brock no matter where he moves. “A bullet in the brain? Why did he get that?”

Chuckling softly, Strucker wipes the little stick in a handkerchief which he folds before depositing both in a pocket. “Zis man gained immense strengz but lacked control.” Oh. “Perhaps zere is a stronger connection between the state of mind and ze results zan we anticipated. We are now looking for actual volunteers.”

…

Fuck. However Loki did it remains a mystery still, but Brock won’t give up the hope that it will be possible to figure out how to control another person with the staff. Damnit, he’d seen the bit of salvaged footage and read the debriefs portraying the events when the Asgardian came to Earth and brainwashed top agents in no time.

The results of Strucker’s and his team’s work is vital both for the promotion of Hydra’s scheme…and to get anything useful from [Y/N] when she will get back again. I’ll be damned if it kills her. Brock’s all too aware that his craving for the ex-girlfriend wouldn’t be condoned if anyone knew – to be fair, he doesn’t quite like it himself because it makes him feel like he isn’t in control of his own damn mind. Every dream is either about missions and kills, sending adrenalin pumping through his veins, or they feature every detail of [Y/N].

The little smile when she was lost in thought. Her spine curving to jut the breasts upwards, skin subtle under Brock’s hands. Remembering the teasing hitches in her breath on a sunny morning, light filtering through the windows to catch in her hair as they made their bed creak together a lifetime ago.

“Godfuckingdamnit!”

Already, an erection is pressing painfully hard against tac-pants and Brock shoves a fist down to reposition the stubborn cock only for a new memory to appear the moment his fingers close around the shaft. Shea-butter mixed with sweat on pebbled nipples…perfect taste. There’s not much room to move the hand, but at least the pants are easily opened allowing for longer strokes.

The speed accelerates with each recollection, fist tightening and twisting while the echoes of [Y/N]’s moans are replaced by cries tearing from her throat when he took her with force. Fuck, it was so good, the man admits to himself, the struggle…oh yeah…the…the control. Breathing laboured, Brock has to lean against the wall, unable to stagger the last few steps over to his cot. She’d begged and pleaded, and he had been the one to grant her peace…or not.

He grunts as he comes. White stickiness spurting between his fingers, adding to the blurry haze from the inability to focus on anything else than the rush thrumming through the veins. It’ll be a short reprieve before the need returns like an endless hunger that nothing can sate. One thing can. But [Y/N] isn’t here, she’s tugged away somewhere with the fucking Avengers and that makes it all a million times worse because to think that Romanoff or maybe even Steve get to be close to her. Get to touch her, smell her.

It stings pleasantly when the hand connects with the drywalling and the structure behind it, thin strings of cum hanging from the torn plaster. At least that clears Brock’s mind a bit.

… Reader …

Lying awake all night, it’s almost a relief to sense the grey dimness take over the room and allow the outlines of furniture to stand out – not even Natasha’s steady breathing has been able to calm your mind after the hours of training spent to tire out your body at least. Why this time?! You’ve spent more than enough nights trying to escape nightmarish memories and negative thoughts but this…this issue is different and you’re happy with the decision you’ve made. I should just tell her.

It’s almost possible to make out the contours of Tasha against the white pillow, darker hair spreading like a halo of smoke. You know she sleeps lightly. Brushing your lips featherlight across her cheek, and she already turns to find your mouth with her own. Sweet and lazy kisses, a single tug to your bottom lip. Morning breath is a non-issue when she invites you into a bubble of gentle safety. Home.

“Morning, babe.” Her fingers tease the shortest hairs in your neck. “You’ve managed to sleep at all?”

There’s no reason to answer, just plant a peck on her nose. “I’ve made up my mind,” you offer as consolation, “and I hope you’ll understand why it’s important to me.”

The love never disappears from the touch while she sits up against the headboard. If it was light enough, you think you might see cautious interest mingled with concern in her eyes because Tasha isn’t as good as hiding it as she thinks she is. That’s a secret though.

“Okay…” She drags you onto her lap, straddling her so the strong arms can wrap around your waist. “Is it about the call from Ross?”

The scent of shampoo still clings to her hair as you bury your face in it, happy to talk into the red mess. “Yes, but mainly it’s about wanting to do what I can.”

Of course your reasoning isn’t perfect, but Natasha doesn’t interrupt even once as you explain how you want to do your part to support the hearings and the new request from the CIA by giving a testimony. Gifted or not, at least there’s information about Brock that can be of use and it seems someone else than just the Avengers are trying to clean things up…hopefully that includes tracking down the people that can be identified to Hydra through the data dumped on the net the day SHIELD fell. You promise to keep the ability secret to anyone outside of Natasha and her friends...admitting that you’ll have to be careful although you’ve got the most convincing cover to any strange phrasing “thanks” to what Brock and his people have put you through while in their hands.

The colours have returned to the world by the time you finish explaining. Dusty lavender heightens the rosy cheeks of the woman looking at you with a serious expression that makes your stomach knot. I have to do this. It’ll be hard as fuck, but it feels right. Feels important.

“I’ll let him know,” Tasha whispers, pulling you in for a tight embrace, “and I’ll be with you all the time.”

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scienceglitches · 4 years

Note

How does your Shockwave perceive his relationships with say Megatron, Soundwave and Starscream??

Who’s asking---?

Omg no, but aaaaaaaaahhhhhh

All three are vastly different ones, though admittedly I feel like I may be bare bones with Megatron because how the Prime animated series handled him was very....disheartening towards what Megatron could be. It felt like a disservice to his character? But maybe I’m also giving Megatron too much credit in combination with believing they tried to wrap up too much in a short amount of time, ahah. (But also I’ve only watched Prime, animated, and Cyberverse so my source material for Megatron is a poor library as is fjaosidfz)

Read more bc this got kinda....lengthy...Sorry if this more than what you were hoping for anon!!!? ;;;;; (It may not even be what you wanted at all LOL;;;;)

With Megatron; Shockwave thought him someone to be respected at first. A scenario of “He a little confused, but he got the spirit”. And in some regard Shockwave still does respect the bot, but he “justifies” this that he saw Megatron fight a lot of battles in the pits. He patched Megatron up in a lot of positions, it would make sense for a bot to lose their sense of self or to go power hungry like Megatron seemed to do. To go from (minor?) to Gladiator to commanding your own army that’s strong enough to wage a war across Cybertron large scale is a large jump, especially for a society where caste systems were very strong and upheld. Even for someone who opposed that very caste system, you could become weak in other areas when given even a slim chance to oppose it on a large scale.

Never mind how obsessed Megatron became over Optimus Prime.

It was at that point that Shockwave knew he was only entirely with the Decepticons for his own sake. To be able to freely experiment and expand the knowledge of where things can go. He tried to observe it as a thought that Optimus was what remained of that caste system, but Megatron showed his old ways. Old ways of treating everything like a Gladiator show, had to throw in dramatics, had to impress. Which isn’t something Shockwave can relate to. Impressing others is not why he does what he does.

He perceives his relationship with Megatron as something that could have been better, but ultimately only sided with him in the end as a means to properly exercise his genius to create and explore where other bots didn’t want to under the strict ‘right vs wrong’ caste system. Megatron disbanding the Decepticons because Only At That Moment he discovered suffering feels wrong to Shockwave, like maybe there’s something more? It wasn’t logical how the dissolve of Decepticons came to be, but he was never that loyal either so he’s not hard pressed to hunt him down and find out why. (Though if given half a chance he’d love to pry deeper into the reasoning, just out of curiosity.) Ultimately it’s nothing, he’s not missing anything with Megatron’s absence. At most maybe Megatron still gave Shockwave what he wanted, as with the rebuild of Cybetron maybe the caste system won’t be so strict and he can experiment as he wants again.

With Starscream: I’m speaking with thinking of @soleresistar‘s Starscream in mind, of course. Since they’re kind of my Starlight and I only have this blog because of them! But I feel like their portrayal of Starscream is so fucking spot on I don’t think it’s canon divergent. I’ll mostly be playing off of what has already developed between the two in our threads and maybe some stuff that we have vaguely planned out for these two in the future!

Shockwave perceives his relationship with Starscream as something greater than what he had with Megatron, for sure. And as of right now they’re Partners, Starscream is definitely someone that Shockwave now has to trust despite the past three times Starscream has lied to and betrayed him. Shockwave feels like there’s more to observe of Starscream than with Megatron. And despite how eratic Starscream is on the outside Shockwave feels like there is one common thing within that makes him act like this; Which is fear. Something that Shockwave can piece together and understand, he does this or that because he’s afraid. Especially considering what has happened to Starscream in the past and all that he’s lost. Wanting to be validated also makes sense in all of this.

Having to trust Starscream so that he can survive (both of them) is something powerful, and Shockwave can even understand that. At this point it’s only logical that they would work together, but in Shockwave’s processor he definitely understands that Starscream could find one (1) thing that could cause him to decide to turn tail and leave Shockwave in his bulky, slower, and land bound self to defend for himself. Which was easy when he was the only one on Cybertron (sans the insectcons), but now there’s Autobots riding around causing a ruckus.

Their relationship is...there. And in the past Shockwave has definitely used Starscream as a basis for how to act or emote. While moving his antenna’s is natural for him, they only do so much. Wings, however, he’s discovered convey so much more. And that’s something he’s interested in! Also the very concept of the hidden Seeker language is fascinating and something he’d like to learn just to learn. (Bc Shockwave’s just a beefy nerd)

Starscream will become a bot that Shockwave ‘trusts’. Starscream is scientifically curious, and wants to find his place again that’s not living in fear if he so much as breathes in a disapproving way to Megatron. Shockwave is willing to give him this place.

Dratz and I have even discussed scenario (in deeper and longer depth) where if they did manage to find Megatron, and he decided to go back to his old ways of physically berating Starscream Shockwave would step in. Without the ranks of the Decepticons it is illogical to show your disapproval in this way, there is nothing to disapprove of. If you wish to be angry, than be angry, but take it out on a rock (or a bot more your size.) It’s just ridiculous. Though, other than finding Soundwave, Shockwave has no want or need to find this estranged warmonger really.

With Soundwave: OOOOOOOHHH, forgive any biased as WaveWave is my like....default ship for Shockwave. But I’m trying to explain this in a way that’s not totally biased and is just how I think they perceive each other. (Or Shockwave of Soundwave, anyways) And I say default ship in the sense of....Shockwave is without a doubt endeared to the other bot, and exists very comfortably with him. Where as normally Shockwave is constantly operating in a sort of rigid way of needing to figure literally everything out even about himself.

Their trust is impeccable. When Dark Mount was literally falling down around Shockwave, he calmly requested a groundbridge and just kinda waited for Soundwave to get that for him. While things were falling down around him, because he knew that Soundwave would get it for him in time. Or another time when Shockwave was still out retrieving Predacon bones himself, when Bumblebee and Smokescreen showed up and ganged up on him (and eventually Optimus too) Soundwave? Just showed up? Soundwave never leaves the Nemesis unless ordered. Another small thing would be when Cybertron was still livable and before Shockwave’s first accident Soundwave just like. Points for Starscream to go to Shockwave. Shockwave can say without a doubt he trusts one bot and that’s Soundwave.

And in all honesty I feel like I would need to headcanon deeper with someone who muses Soundwave about what exactly happened during the Gladiator days. Also on the fact they share a name. They’re not regarded as brothers or twins like others in the series, so in some way I feel like their sparks are touched by each other. Maybe not deeply, maybe not subtly at all actually! This is stuff that I think about a lot and over the top but don’t really have the other half to muse or headcanon off with. (Because like. I get Soundwave, but I don’t get Soundwave. He’s not my muse.)

I also know that I headcanon Shockwave as permanently having a comm link opened up for Soundwave at all times, so when he got sent to the Shadowzone it was a very jarring and emptying moment for him. But there was also so much going on in that moment Shockwave didn’t have much of a chance to investigate it or do anything about it. And then it just became more and more difficult to do anything about it as things started really hitting the fan.

But Shockwave perceives his relationship with Soundwave as something absolute, it’s unavoidable.

Shockwave has also picked up cues from Soundwave, similar to how he has with Starscream. At first Shockwave, too, thought that Soundwave’s oath was ludicrous and pointless. But as Shockwave is learned from a couple different walks of life, there’s a certain expression in silent languages that spoken ones really can’t get across. (Which is weird for a scientist based entirely on logic.)

Just as a fun bonus here’s a dumb meme I made for @stiillness when we were talking one night ahah

#ooc #headcanons #?#i spent so much time writing this #ill do some replies tomorrow im sorry guys ajsdfzopsi #Anonymous

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zodiacal-dust-and-curls · 5 years

Text

It’s Late (Ch 1)

A/N: This is a work of fiction! It takes place in an altered universe where certain member's partners don’t exist. Should line up with the Sheer Heart Attack tour. No one requested this. @rogers-wristbands was kind enough to proof read for me (thank you, love). I’ve been told that I’m no longer allowed to come for anyone’s whole life just because I’m sad (bc I definitely did. I came for my own favorite.) Enjoy!

Warnings: Angst (like you wouldn’t believe), Cheating (very bad. I do not condone this), Pregnancy (Unplanned), Mention of Abortion, Swearing

Word Count: 1.6k

The boys had been on tour for about a month now. It felt much longer than that thanks to waking up to a routinely empty bed. You’d had phone calls nightly, but a disembodied voice did nothing to soothe the ache that was beginning to burn through your soul.

Brian usually called you at the same time every night. Just before you went to bed, which was before the show started but after soundcheck. Tonight, the call was running late. John had managed to sneak a call in to check on his favorite un-biological sibling. Yes, he really insisted on using that term, just to get under your skin and drive you a little crazy. After years of pretending to hate it, you’d grown quite fond of it and missed hearing it while he was away.

“What do you mean he hasn’t called?” You’d swear you could see his eyebrows furrowing through the line, his mouth managing to flatten and pout at the same time. “He left 30 minutes ago to go back to his room and change before the show. He’s had plenty of time.”

“I guess I’ll just have to be the one to call tonight.” You said a little wistfully, Something wasn’t sitting right with you. “Can I have the number for your hotel?”

“Sure. Ask for room 615.”

“Dr. M’s room. How can I help you?” It came through the line too giggly, too feminine, and absolutely wrong.

“If you could put Mr. May on, I’d appreciate it.” You managed to hide the venom in your voice surprisingly well, but you were sure your facial expression told a very different story. Thank the powers that be for telephones not having a video option.

“Briiii ~ phone for you.” The mystery woman called out.

“Who is it Junie?” You heard call back.

“They didn’t say, but they did ask for you by name.” She must have forgotten to cover the receiver because the amount of giggling you heard next was enough to make you forget all the coolness you had purposefully injected into your tone.

“Hello?” This voice you knew. You’d heard it every night for the last 12 months either in person or over the phone.

“Hello, Bri.” The malice in your voice was clear. You could hear the blood draining from his face over the line. “Lose my number and don’t bother coming to see me when you get back. Tell Junie I said hello.” The last thing he heard was a click then a dial tone.

The show that night was a disaster. John had told you as much the next morning when he called to chew you out for messing with the guitarist’s head. The conversation quickly turned around when you told him what had happened.

You still got nightly phone calls, but now it was your oldest friend and confidant instead of the man you thought you loved.

About 2 weeks after the switch, you noticed you were feeling sick all the time. You’d mentioned it to John and promised to see a doctor if it stayed that way for more than a week.

“Johnnie,” you breathed out in a sigh of relief when the phone rang that night. True to your word, you’d gone to the doctor after feeling like crap for a week. “I’m so happy to hear your voice right now.” It was starting to come out in sobs, all your forced composure slipping from your grip.

“Hey, hey, Y/N. Breathe.” He whispered to you and hoped that his words would provide the comfort that his arms could not. “What happened? What did the doctor say?”

“John . . . I’m pregnant.”

The silence that followed was not what you were hoping for, but you knew it was a distinct possibility. John quietly followed it with death threats to the only person he knew could be the father and promises to support you with any decision you made.

The band would be home in 2 weeks for a short break. Brian seemed to have lost your number and you had no intention of looking up one for him to tell him this news. You told John that you still had time to make your decisions and wanted to see him in person before making anything real.

The day had finally come. You were estimated to be about 8 weeks pregnant. John had promised to come see you before running off to Veronica’s. As a man of his word, he knocked on your door early that afternoon and scooped you into a hug. You weren’t ready for that hug to send you spiraling into a mass of tears, but it did. Having John back meant decisions had to be made, people had to be told, things had to be done.

The one thing you knew for sure was that ‘having some sort of an accident’ was completely out of the question. The little bean growing inside you was partly you. They had been your most constant companion through all the heartbreak and anger you’d endured. Your little bean was going to live, you just weren’t sure you were the best option for a parent.

John once again kept his promises and supported your decision. He hadn’t told a single soul of your situation, but now it wouldn’t be a secret for much longer. The break was only for a week to regroup with loved ones before continuing the tour. If you were going to keep bean, there was someone you’d have to tell and a signature you’d have to collect.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” You had heard those words too often in the last few weeks. First from John, then your parents, and now from Brian.

“And what would you propose as an alternative, Mr. May?” You had said his name with such contempt that it would be difficult for a passerby to believe you’d been in a loving relationship at any point in time.

Brian just looked at you sadly. He’d never gotten the chance to apologize and it looked like he wasn’t going to. You had come over, accompanied by John, to inform him of your new situation and get him to sign away his parental rights. If you were going to have your little bean, Brian would have no say in the matter.

“It’s just that this is my child too, Y/N,” he had always wanted to be a dad one day. It broke his heart that his eldest child wouldn’t get to know him.

“Are you joking?” Something about your quickly shifting hormones pushed you to anger quite often. At this moment you could feel it pulsing through your veins and pooling in your stomach, as if to make a protective cover for your little bean that was growing there. “You wouldn’t even know if I didn’t need you to sign this. As far as I’m concerned, you lost all privileges to have a say in how I conduct my life the moment that woman entered your room.”

Brian wanted to bite back at you. He wanted to be angry, but the only person he could find at fault was himself. He slowly signed the document and passed it to you.

John had been characteristically quiet throughout the whole exchange. He just watched for the moment things went to far and he would need to intervene, but it never came.

“Good bye, Mr. May, and good luck with your future endeavors.” You removed some of the anger from your voice as you said your good-bye, opting for a cool if almost business like tone. You could feel John watching you, waiting for the next outburst.

“Good bye, Y/N. John.” Brian let you leave without trying to convince you of anything further.

You were lucky to make it through the majority of your pregnancy with minimal complications. Morning sickness was a bitch, but it ended early in your second trimester. John delivered a bit of good news the same day your morning sickness ended.

Veronica was pregnant, too. You had someone to formally bond with while you made it through your journey. Also, your little bean would have a lifelong friend, just like you did.

With the band wrapping up a tour and planning to record every day, you and Veronica grew very close. So much so that John started to feel like he was being replaced by his own wife. You reassured him of his importance in your life by asking the two of them to be godparents. They gladly accepted.

Days came and went as time passed you by. You’d been so busy preparing for the little one to finally make their appearance, that you were almost shocked when your water broke. Luckily, a phone call to the Deacon residence (and to your parents) gathered all the necessary people to meet you at the hospital.

Several hours later, you were greeted by two smiling faces holding a small white bundle. Labor for you had been intense and after the initial skin contact, you more or less passed out.

“Good morning, mumma.” You heard Ronnie’s sweet voice greet you as you turned your head to look at her.

“Good morning.” You smiled gently, still extremely tired from delivery, but absolutely delighted that John and Veronica had waited to see you.

“I hope you don’t mind, darling, but we couldn’t stop ourselves from seeing our godchild.” John spoke this time. He only called you darling when he really wanted something from you, or when he was feeling extremely vulnerable.

“Of course not.” You smiled at the pair of them, feeling something loosen in your chest. In just a few short weeks, you’d be back for their little nugget’s delivery. “However, I do think that it’s breakfast time for the two of us.”

“Quite right, Y/N.” Veronica passed you the bundle she’d been holding.

Looking at your little girl made you so incredibly happy. Thank heavens you had decided to keep her, your little bean. She made everything worth it.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this and I’m sorry. Leave me some feedback! I’d love to come for someone else’s fave.

Ch 2 - Ch 3

#queen #queen fic #brian may x reader #brian may angst #john deacon #veronica tetzlaff #tw: pregnancy #tw: abortion #pregancy #abortion mention #tw: children #children #t writes #nsfr #queen imagine #queen angst #it's late

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piipedreams · 5 years

Note

47 + Sharon plus anyone! Your choice!

(it’s shillam again bc i’m weak n i love them. pls send all ur love to @artificialmeggie for checking through this for me too pls. also i’m on mobile bc i’m on holiday so sorry if this is horribly formatted)

for the prompt: “no one needs to know”

“FUCK!” Sharon exclaims, lashing blindly at her altar before storming to the other side of the room, her enraged stomps drowning out the sound of things tumbling over. She thinks about giving up entirely and throwing herself into the hammock Aquaria had insisted on erecting only to never use, but the combination of her current lack of luck and her lack of faith in her daughter’s carpentry skills convince her otherwise. Thus, she resigns herself to lying face-down on the wooden floor, booting the ground with the toe of her scuffed Dr Martens just for good measure.

“And you wonder where I get my dramatic streak from…” drawls an all-too-familiar and all-too-frustrating voice. Sharon’s daughter Aquaria is perched like a princess upon Sharon’s king-size bed, lounging back against a plethora of throw pillows and lazily waving a hand in the air supposedly to dry her nails. Sharon loves the little nightmare, she really does, but she’s not in the mood, knows that she’ll snap if she opens her mouth to respond and doesn’t want to put that on her. Luckily, Aquaria knows her all too well, not even giving her a chance to retaliate.

“Oh, and be careful with the altar. If you kick a candle over and set the place on fire I’m not taking the blame like I did when you burnt dinner last year. We’re both too old for that now, it’d be embarrassing.”

Aquaria is ten.

Sharon still doesn’t dignify her words with a coherent response, letting out a long, low groan just to remind her daughter of her current suffering and torment. She hears the sound almost immediately echoed from the bed, is unsure whether she’s being mocked or watching her daughter become herself and is unable to discern which option she’d hate more.

Lifting her head, she watches Aquaria flounce off the bed and flick her long, blonde hair over her shoulder with purpose, tiny heels clacking as she makes her way across the room, pausing to reassemble Sharon’s altar with what Sharon just knows is a hidden eye-roll. The little brat.

“Fine,” she announces in a sharp, impatient tone, as though Sharon had just made a decision or request she wasn’t aware of. As well as her flair for the dramatics, it seemed the kid had also inherited Sharon’s general distaste and impatience regarding other people. She was so proud. “If you’re not gonna talk to me, I’ll go and fetch somebody else for you to rant to.” And with those words she struts out of the room, her little wedge heels clicking against the wooden floors and her hair bouncing behind her, completely ignorant as Sharon calls out half-arsed protestations in an attempt to change her mind, get her to stay instead.

“Well don’t you look fucking pathetic?”

“No. Not you.” The smugness of the voice she hears, clearly revelling in the sight of Sharon, collapsed and defeated at her feet, kills any trust she had in her daughter. Because she could not have made a worse call than fucking Willam if she was really trying to provide her with any modicum of emotional support. When people told her having a kid would be the catalyst of her long impending breakdown, she’d never imagined this would be how. The little traitor.

The sound of stilettos, almost definitely red bottoms, grows louder and a pang of dread blossoms in her heart as she hears the woman approach, flippant and sarcastic in all the worst ways as she exclaims “Wow, okay. I thought we were friends!”

Sharon doesn’t have fucking time for her and her dumb games. “You thought wrong.”

Apparently Willam doesn’t have time for her either though, because her snickering suddenly stops, toes digging under Sharon’s side and then lifting as though trying to push her up, obviously to no avail.

“Get up.”

Sharon tries to ignore the way such a demand makes her jaw clench and muscles tighten somewhat.

“No,” she groans in response, long and whiny, determined to be as difficult for Willam as possible, to wield all her brattish and stubborn parts like a weapon and prolong the experience as much as she possibly can. It’s probably petty, definitely antagonistic, but she’s still frustrated and maybe Aquaria is smarter than she’d thought because she’d provided her mother with the greatest outlet - someone to wind up.

She relishes in the aggravated sigh she gets in return. “Get off the fucking floor and into that fucking hammock.”

The bite of the demand, the scratchy growl underlying in Willam’s voice as she speaks so plainly and apathetically, as though Sharon is nothing more than a mild inconvenience that won’t behave does something to Sharon. It’s the indifference of her voice, the way it essentially yells that she knows exactly what to do with Sharon, how to deal with her and why and that she has no doubt she’ll execute this control flawlessly causes a stir inside the woman, her teeth grinding ever so slightly and an involuntary shiver wracking her which seems to be the final straw.

Willam stamps her glitter Louboutins against the ground with enough force to snap the flimsy kitten heels in half, centimetres from Sharon’s head, her ankle brushing the outermost wisps of her hair in the movement and Sharon tries to ignore her body once again, biting back a whimper she knows would be pathetically high and embarrassingly needy as heat pools in her stomach. She mutters a resolute “fuck!” all hard vowels and spiked fricatives, finding comfort in the knowledge that Willam is just enough of a dumb blonde not to understand the true target of her exclamation.

Body protesting, she hauls herself to her feet and plods obediently over to the mesh hammock that hangs low in the corner of the room. Despite her best efforts, she has to admit that perhaps Willam did have a somewhat decent idea, collapsing into the fabric after feeling the pull of temptation deep in her stomach and letting out a small, audible groan at the way her body is so graciously welcomed. Her muscles relax, the brain fog and electric anger causing her current storm-like state beginning to ebb away as she closes her eyes, lies back and just breathes, deep, heavy, slow, and full, like she has all the time and all the oxygen in the world to enjoy. For just a moment, she forgets her not-quite-friend is even there, losing herself in the onslaught of sensations and sinking into her own, private, relaxed little haven of a world. Hell, for a moment she almost considers thanking Willam, a notion that leaves her head almost as immediately as it crosses it, the thought broken apart entirely by the interruption of none other than the woman of the hour herself.

“Cute.” In spite of their differences, Sharon has always found great pride in being the only one smart enough to be able to decipher Willam’s different tones and meanings, always picking up on a fake comment, sarcasm and every tiny emotion bitten back behind polite, uncharacteristic words. But when she says that one, tiny little word, Sharon is lost completely, unable to recognise whether it’s her own intrusive and self-absorbed thoughts causing her to detect a chink in Willam’s armour of sarcasm, some modicum of genuine emotion and belief behind the comment. Once again, however, she reminds herself that this is not the time nor place and pushes every thought stemming from it to be suffocated in a dark, faraway corner in her mind. She traps every branch within the area and blocks it up, pressing a label onto the jar of thoughts declaring it for a rainy day. She starts to miss her pre-Willam irritation as the woman clears her throat and continues. “...Anyway. Budge over.”

Still on autopilot, her body made of clay that moulds itself to Willam’s words, she finds herself obliging before she’s even really processed the words or what they imply, body shuffling closer to the window. With just a half-second of hesitation, Willam gracelessly kicks off her heels and plops herself right next to Sharon, a little off-centre so the hammock swings slightly as her shoulder collides with Sharon’s chest, grappling helplessly for an anchor to the rocking fabric and finding it, unfortunately, in Sharon’s t-shirt, her fingers clinging so tightly to the neckline that the tips dig into the soft flesh of her tits. A small part of Sharon - a wayward thought that had just about escaped the rainy day trap - secretly hopes that Willam has pressed hard enough to leave little marks in her skin, a visual reminder of her touch, the collision of her body with Sharon’s.

As the choppy movements of the hammock slow and eventually still, Willam begins to maneuver herself into a more comfortable position, rolling onto her front and overlapping the leg closest to her with her own. Her grip on Sharon’s top remains tight, her body seemingly trying to accommodate that one point of contact in the most convenient and comfortable way, resting her head atop and then above Sharon’s shoulder when the former doesn’t work out, face tilted towards her so that her breath bats softly against Sharon’s cheek and the slight bulge of her small chest pressed against Sharon’s left arm, rendering it dead and absolutely useless. Not that Sharon minds. Not that Sharon’s not going to pretend she does mind.

“Uh…. Will?” she asks cautiously, humiliated by the way her voice cracks ever so slightly, how overall delicate and gentle it sounds. Willam bumps against her in acknowledgement. Every part of her body that has the luxury of feeling Willam’s burns, the originally warm feeling growing more scalding and deadly the more she thinks about and accepts it. So she tries to amp it up a bit, this time almost obnoxiously loud and abrupt as she asks, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Cuddling you.” She halts for a moment as though that’s it, a horrendously obvious and yet cryptic answer, smirking at Sharon’s disapproving frown. Apparently, the expression was yet another step too far, and the stirring in her stomach starts up once again, this time the heat a result of a chemical reaction as lust and fear mingle together in the most addictive of ways as Willam’s face hardens, eyes stony and cold, her whole demeanour, despite being wrapped around Sharon, clearly indicating her aggravation. When she speaks, it’s snappy and abrupt again, the Willam that Sharon knows and therefore knows how to deal with - a no-nonsense bitch with a heart layered with stone and gold that knows exactly what she’s doing and why, and that it’s not really any of your business, thank you very much.

“Fine!” she snaps, eyes rolling so hard it’s a wonder she doesn’t do herself permanent damage. “I tried to be nice about it!” Sharon isn’t sure whether to believe that, the push and pull between them being so off and inconsistent all day that she’s actually never felt more on edge around Willam yet somehow never felt more comfortable around her either. She’s not so sure how nice that really is. “Like it or not, you’re a repressed little dyke who’s throwing her toys out her pram like a fucking toddler because she needs a hug and she’s touch starved by other woman. I’m trying to deliver.”

This time, the heat that had been pooling in her stomach doesn’t burn her or frighten her, instead spreading through her body as an almighty warmth, accomplices to the warm arms that wrap around her as Willam finishes speaking. It’s horrifyingly difficult not to react, as always with Willam, for an entirely different reason. Because Sharon has always prided herself on understanding Willam and the emotions and messages underlying in her words, and this one is clear as day - Willam cares. She notices, knows Sharon even if neither of them like the thought of that, and cares enough to want to help even when she knows she’s going to get nothing good out of it️. Sharon had wondered why of all people Aquaria had approached Willam, but the painstaking tenderness of her words and her touch leaves her wondering whether Aquaria even asked her at all, a thought far too exhilarating for her to continue thinking. Nevertheless, she makes a mental note to thank her daughter when she eventually returns, considering that maybe the new sewing machine she’d been begging for isn’t too expensive after all. Her head spins as she bites back a grin, trying to return to her permanently antagonistic state and diffuse the tension between them so thick, palpable and tangible it feels like a weapon.

“This is still too weird.” Her tone is so unconvincing, so wobbly and quiet and indirect she doesn’t even believe herself. Willam snickers.

“Well suck it up, bitch, I’m not here to ruin your image! No one needs to know Emo Goddess 666 needs a good hug sometimes.” She shuffles closer, every bitchy and humorous facade long gone from her expression. The thought of such vulnerability and trust between them threatens to swallow Sharon whole. Willam winks, nosing at Sharon’s chin as the arm clutching Sharon’s shirt finally releases the garment and rests lazily over the woman’s waist, a warm, protective anchor against all the shit she’s thought all day, week, year. “Or that she gets them.”

This time Sharon hums, too content and heavy-lidded to try and muster up a response. In another universe, she corrects Willam, reminds her that she’s goth, not emo, biting her lip and squeezing her thighs together as Willam tells her to shut the fuck up before she makes her. In this universe, however, Willam accepts the hum as a sign of Sharon’s begrudging complacency and trust, the sparks of hope that signify a new beginning almost visible were it not for how deeply she’d buried her face into the crook of Sharon’s neck at this point, the two of them entangled as though they belong this way. And maybe they do, so Willam pushes her luck, it seems.

“Hey, how about a kiss too?”

#i looove these two #also mom!sharon and daughter!aquaria #shillam #sharon needles #willam belli #prompt #asks #anonymous #answered #my writing #aquaria

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ts-2020-olympics · 4 years

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EPISODE 1 - “My Legs Were Not Qwoperating” - Kathy (Part 2)

no. jk here.

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So, it’s morning. I look around at our camp, and see everyone is at work. Karen is painting their flag and using safety scissors to cut out Monty’s head, Kevin is chanting to himself in the corner, Stoner’s been asleep so we buried him in the sand up to his neck and then sculpted a sand castle around him. Tommy is just trying to make eye contact with anyone he can and so I’m...avoiding that. I’d say we are solid but that’s probably not the truth, and so that kind of stinks. I’m hoping the newbies really fuck up, and I know that’s harsh but...that’s showbiz, babe!! Speaking of newbies I still haven’t talked to a few of them. Emma like zoomed away the first day and I’ve given up on talking to her. Hope she goes first. That’s all I got for now, going to eat breakfast I will continue this rant later.

my truth is that i haven’t played an org game in so long i forgot i was playing and then remembered an hour ago and tried to do this wack qwop game hsksksj! my legs were not qwoperating

I see there's an arena going on! I might go there first if the rest of the team is okay with it - gives me a chance to scope things out and get a feel for the area. I'm excited!

WE WON THE FUCKING CHALLEEEENGE AAAAA NOT ONLY DID WE WIN BUT WE KILLT IT WE SCORED 12 AND EVERYONE ELSE GOT LIKE 8 AND 5 OHMYGOOOD IM NOT GONNA BE FIRST OUT YALL IM SHAKING I CANT BELIEVE GSJDKDVDSNDBWSKHSD okAy okay so thank god bc my tribe has like no drama so our vote would’ve been really difficult and that gives me more time to think about my possible advantage and the possible bonds here.

so while I am safe I still have to game a little bit and talk to the people I’ve been talking with who are going to tribal like Sammy and Jordan, funny enough who are on the same tribe.... maybe I can get them to protect each other..... hm

Well we lost because of technicalities, I choose to blame that. This tribe is apparently extremely quiet to each other, so the fact that I messaged everyone hello this morning, nearly 48 hours after the start, I am SOMEHOW one of the best social players here. Challenges are generally my strength, we got last in QWOP, so backup is social game in a social ORG. I can be in some danger here, but I think I have a TRusuT sclusTER to keep myself here. As is necessary. I don't care who goes, I have a preference, but I don't really want to set a goal right now. Flexibility is key.

I'm literally PISSED. I'm fuming right now, like wtf? OK so I haven't confessed anything yet because my tribe has been SO quiet. I've honestly talked a lot more to some of the people from ONE WORLD than I have from some of the people from my own tribe... and I'm not crazy okay? It's NOT my fault. I put in effort with these people... But some of these people are just DRY! Drier than the Sahara Desert! Drier than my chappy ass lips! They can't hold a conversation, and that's obnoxious. I'm not going to respond to you if your message has literally nothing in it worth responding to, that's why most of my messages will either have a follow-up question, or something actually of substance to comment on/reply to... YOU SHOULD DO THE SAME SO WE CAN ACTUALLY SPEAK AND MAINTAIN A CONSISTENT DIALOGUE!!!!!!! But NOOOOOOO, my tribe decides to not speak... MOVING ON! The only people I've had good conversations with really are Juls and Em, and lo and behold, Em does lit rally nothing in this challenge, which sucks because I'm afraid that may put a target on her back. But I'm not sure, I definitely will vote with her and I think Juls will too. I'll move onto that later but I wanna talk about why I'm fucking LIVID RIGHT NOW. I literally made SO many suggestions on how we could tweak who does what in this challenge, or what we do on certain parts. Now I'm going to admit a TINY bit of fault here, in that I didn't say my suggestions on the tribe flag. There are some things I think we could've done to make it better, but I love Juls, and everyone had already told her it was great, so I didn't wanna make her feel that I didn't like it or was over criticizing. So I didn't say anything. That was my bad. BUT EVERYTHING ELSE, LUV? I said We should guess lower than 610... Now granted my even 600 guess still would've been too low to win, BUT AT LEAST IT WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN OVERBOARD! HMPPHH!!!!! Or maybe we could've compromised on 605 if people hadnt IGNORED ME!!!! IDK!??!?!?! Further than that, I asked for different tweaking on the chant and nobody gave any suggestions. I'm not saying we would've won or anything had I taken the lead or that I was doing everything the right way, obviously I wasn't since my chant got 3rd, but what I'm saying is once it became obvious the challenge was going to be about group participation and suggestion, our tribe needed to unify. Everyone in the tribe needed to have a clearer vision and talk to eachother and actually put in the EFFORT that this stuff requires. Which I'm admitting my own error, in not doing that with the flag. But our tribe was just so quiet and silent before now, which sent me down a paranoid spiral, that I was super fucking worried about my place in the tribe or where things were heading. Now I realize I'm in a good position on the tribe for sure, it's just that our tribe is STRUGGLING. ON THE (Mr.) BRIGHTSIDE!!! We lost by a tiebreaker guess, and only by 4 points.... and I'm pretty close with Juls, and it seems like a target will probably fall pretty easily onto Billy. He had the worst QWOP score, described himself as arrogant in his own intro, and just seems.. critical of others. He gives off a strange vibe. If it's not him, I'm pretty sure it'd end up being Jacob or Em. I feel that me and Juls are safe which is all that I can hope for on a tribe this freaking tiny, I instantly connected with Juls over our love of anime, the fact her name is the same as Euphoria Jules, and other stuff. As far as One World goes, I honestly keep forgetting it exists. I haven't reached out to too many of the others but have talked back to those who talk to me and it's been generally decent. I get along well with other Jacob, the not pie one. Caeleb I already know from before this and so I feel like we'd def work together, and I get good vibes from a lot of these people like Eve, Nicole, Ben, etc. Honestly I'm just so frustrated right now because things have been quiet and nervous and I'm PARANOID, and my tribe was so close to winning but fucked it up over minor things we could've tweaked had we just tried a little harder and communicated a little more. ugh, this SUCKS. now my first legacy in Tumblr Survivor is a mediocre chant (i honestly really like it and i put a LOT OF THOUGHT INTO IT OKAY....) and a trip to tribal council *Sobs* Here's hoping things take a positive turn from here...? It could always be the Bronze before my Gold! ~Hamfisted olympics metaphor~

Love my tribe a lot! However, i still feel on the outside somewhat tho.... Idk this is a lot for me I just hope we win until a swap or whatever its called ahh

Alright, Darcy back here with yet another confessional! Here is a little update since I last posted confessional, mainly the biggest difference is now I have an ally formed with Ben. At least, I made a deal with Ben yesterday proposing just the generic looking after one another ordeal, then going to give it some time and maybe question Beck about forming an alliance, since I've been connecting with her even more past bit, but don't want to go too fast and end up asking half my tribe right away to work with me, as I don't want to be seen as playing hard out the gate and make myself a target. Meanwhile, I decided to give the Olympic Village searching a shot, but alas was no luck in the cafeteria cabinets, so will just have to try my luck again in the future rounds. Thinking of searching either the South or North end of Village next round, but we shall see. Anyways, I'm glad my tribe won Immunity, so don't have to go to tribal this round, and this Olympic Arena twist sounds great, essentially one person from each tribe goes to the Arena, I believe for the immune tribes just 1 person is selected to go to the Arena, and for the losing tribes, the two voted out go to arena, where the winner of the voted out people come back in the game, and loser is out of the game for good. Think I read that all right, but maybe won't hurt to give it another read to double check. For now though, I shall go, so will see you all with my next confessional.

Fuck having to go to tribal first. I don’t like having to send someone home when I don’t even really know who I’m playing with yet.

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Seems like Billy pulling the "I don't want to make any moves" to me was surprisingly bullshit. Who would've thunk. I think everyone is fine with voting out Billy here, I didn't really want to initially, but yeah, uh no. I could be in danger, but if everyone is honest here, I should be fine. Fingers crossed. "I'm either going to be first boot or win" - Pia Miranda

So, the first tribal is in a bit and we were almost sent there but managed to pull through in the tiebreaker! I hope that opens some of my tribemates eyes (lets be real, just Stoner who hasn’t been doing much of anything!) Being in One World but none of the newbies talking to me is still wild to me, half of them still haven’t even accepted my contact request. Yet they’re plenty active in the chat, so what gives? Anyway, I hope it’s just that they are intimidated by the very fact that I am beauty, and grace, and Miss United States. I hope we can win the next round, hopefully first or second place so we don’t have a close call again. We are trying to get Chris to go to the Arena so he can get us that 20% but he hasn’t answered so...what gives? On the alliance front I’m good with Kevin and Karen tribewise , the bigger picture is Kevin, Jacob and Sammy want to align and then we will have a bigger alliance that includes Beck, Juls and Eve. Eventually I might wanna break off and align with Jules and Eve, but having bigger targets around is essential. Anyway that’s all I got for now. I should start making video confessionals AS THINGS ARE HAPPENING. Ya know? Anyway toodles for now see ya next round. OH, and I’m hoping Jules and Jacob are safe this tribal :( love them and hope we can work together going forward.

Hiiii, arena results are about to come in so I'm just gonna drop a quickie confessional before that happens. I don't honestly remember how much I talked about the strategy and gameplay that was going on, so I'll give you a quick rebriefing of that. I'm really close with Juls. Em I like, but I want more out of her. Jacob is quiet, but inoffensive. Billy, I actually like him, but there are certain things about him that just.. Rub me (and others) a strange way and that's why we voted him out because certain things he did just didn't quite gel with the rest of the team. If he does return from the arena though, it's possibly I may vouch for him over Jacob because Jacob... HE JUST NEEDS TO TALK!!! But idk. One world still SUCKS and is dragging me through the MUD because nobody wants to do cross-tribe talking me included but that gets me paranoid as FUCK, luv. About the live tribal, it was fun! My camera angle was awkward and I was soo nervous though, but I think I was still able to hold it together relatively well, act normal, and give semi-decent answers. Will definitely be improving my live tribal performance for next time so I can be a bad ass bitch on call, it's GOING to happen... dskfdsf. I love Emma on call/video sooooo much, But on text she's kind of dry. Maybe I need to ask her if I can call her sometime, but I haven't done a call for a game like this in a looong time. I'm a bit nervous about that. But yeah. I'm looking forward to the game... The first tribal just makes everything real, and you realize, oh shit, we're playing Survivor. And I forgot how thrilling it was to play in a live, video environment like that, it just grips you and it feels so much more intense than when wiki results are just posted in chat and you don't have to deal with physically seeing the person you're voting out, talking to them with your actual voice, etc. All that stuff just makes the experience that much more realistic and it's so intense and fun. I'm ready to get this game on (Btw fuck the arena twist)

hey guys im really loving this game so far... keep up the good work!

i didn’t appreciate the attitude billy gave me whenever i tried to help the team out but! i’m willing to get over it because he is a nice guy. i feel fairly comfortable with my team and i’m just hoping we can avoid another tribal!

Hello! I can not believe I'm back for a 6th time on Tumblr Survivor this is so crazy! Especially for an Olympic season because I vowed to myself that I would never do a season again that was more than 20 people after being in Japan. Now that I'm back I'm ready to play, I haven't really came into this season with a strategy but if I did it would have changed because this is a One World season and now with the arena twist I'm sweating. One World makes the season super social (probably one of my least favorite twists) it's very easy for this season to let pre-mades and majorities take over just like that and let underdogs like me in this season to get taken out especially taken out early. So I have been social not only with me but a few people on different tribes but not too much. I don't want to seem like I'm playing too hard but I wanna build relationships before swaps happen so that people choose to ally with me (A WINNER) over a newbie or a returnee who hasn't won because I already have a big target on my back. With how the tribe divisions are it gives the newbies the biggest advantage with 15 newbies compared to 5 winners and 5 non-winner returnees, which isn't bad in a Fan vs. Favorite season because the ratio is even with returnees and newbies. However, now that I'm in the minority and also labeled a WINNER, I have to do damage control to lower my target but most importantly integrate with other people which is hard because I'm not the best social player and I know that's my weakness but I still have to attempt. In terms of my own tribe I'm closest to Kevin, when I talk to him we have a good conversation I probably already irritate him but I think out of everyone I can put my trust in him the most compared to everyone else. I think having one good ally is how I want to approach this season due to the arena twist I don't want to come across as running the tribe especially the winners tribe incase we do go to tribal because if I vote in the majority and that person stays they are immune and will be mad and spill the beans about the tribe, and I want that person to be the least mad at me so the focus is not on me. So having overall good vibes and 1 strong connection is a good strategy for the long term game. It might put me at risk for being voted out in the short term but I want to play the long-term game. Preferably if it is up to me I'd want Nicole to be the next closest to Kevin and myself without myself having to make an official deal with Nicole so I'm not seen as the ringleader. Kevin says he wants Stoner to be the first one voted out on our tribe but honestly I rather it be Karen. Stoner has the reputation keeps his target bigger than the rest and I think Karen has the better chance of flipping on the winners and succeeding than Stoner does. So my target is Karen if we do lose. I also believe that there may be an alliance with Nicole, Kevin, and Karen which I hope is not an actual alliance because that's bad news for me. I hope we don't go to tribal because I don't wanna go to a tribal with only 5 people. Wish me luck!

Whew it has been one round and i've fucked up so much its not even funny. its a little funny. anyways i start this game on a tribe of 5, i allign with connor who ive never played a game with and find some similar common ground, and with jacob who seems chill. we lose the first challenge sucks and all hell breaks loose, long story short fuck sammy. I'm trying to work my way back in caeleb and jacobs good graces. its gonna be a rocky road, but its one i've driven before

#zestypowerfuluniqueflavorfulhealthy #confessionals

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