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hornime · 3 years

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mutually assured destruction | kyoutani kentarou x gn!reader

he pushed your cheeks in with his fingers, effectively quieting your protests. “be quiet,” he spat, “and take what i give you. or nothing at all.”

warnings: 18+, fwb!kyoutani, hate sex, degradation, orgasm denial, fighting for dominance (idek if that’s a thing but it should be), both you and kyo are BRATTY AS HELL, some choking, spitting, CHAIN BITING, kinda toxic ?? but like mutually so it cancels out cus pemdas ???

w/c: 1.7k (i got carried away but kyoutani is just so sexy)

a/n: the way i came up with this title while studying for apush and then kyoutani flooded my mind and suddenly the catalysts of the cold war no longer mattered to me anymore.

you and kyoutani were not a good mix, not by a long shot. simply being in the same room was a disaster waiting to happen; he was a bundle of tnt and you were a lit match. for all that you hated each other, though, both of you needed the other for something: a fuck that would never disappoint.

the sex, just like your relationship, was explosive. it was heart-stopping, ab-clenching, vision-blinding, breath-stealing, hardcore-as-fuck sex. neither of you could get enough of it nor wane yourself off it. you were addicted.

it made you hate him even more.

[11:05 PM] kyo-kyo: come over

you cringed at the contact name. you must’ve changed it after the last time you hooked up, all stupid and cock-drunk. you quickly retyped his contact info before responding to his message.

[11:05 PM] you: why

[11:05 PM] kyoutani: are you an idiot? you know why

[11:05 PM] you: ik i just wanna hear u say it

[11:05 PM] you: say that ur soooooo horny that you just haddddd to text me

[11:06 PM] kyoutani: no. fuck you.

[11:06 PM] you: fine. im not coming over then.

you both knew that was a lie.

[11:08 PM] you: have fun taking care of urself.

[11:08 PM] you: needy bitch.

[11:08 PM] kyoutani: watch it. i wasnt this mean when you were begging me to fuck you last week.

you sighed. that was a moment of weakness.

[11:08 PM] kyoutani: whatd you say last time? something along the lines of “ill do whatever you want just come fuck me”?

[11:11 PM] kyoutani: *attachment: one (1) screenshot*

[11:11 PM] kyoutani: ohh it was “ill do whatever you want PLEASE just come fuck me”

[11:12 PM] kyoutani: youre so much nicer to be around when you use your manners

definitely a moment of weakness.

[11:12 PM] you: fuck off i get it. im coming

[11:12 PM] kyoutani: doors unlocked

the moment you nudged your way into his apartment, he was on you, hands gripping tightly at the flesh of your hips and teeth nibbling at your bottom lip.

“get off,” you groaned, pushing him away. as you peeled off your jacket, you glanced down at his pants and looked back up at his face with an amused expression. “are you hard already?”

he met your eyes with a gaze of lust—and was that desperation?—before turning to walk towards his bedroom, expecting you to follow. “no.”

“yes you are,” you teased. “you really needed me, didn’t you? you’re absolutely pathe—”

before you could finish, kyoutani grabbed your wrist before practically dragging you to his bed. he pushed you onto the mattress and, with his hands on your waist, maneuvered your body up until your head rested between his two pillows. “stop fucking talking. your voice is annoying.”

“at least i can keep it in my pants,” you retorted. “you’re just embarrassingly horny.”

“you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.” that shut you up.

he crept towards you until the gold chain around his neck dangled tantalizingly in your face. in an instant, you were kissing, aggressively melding your lips together in a mess of teeth and tongue. kyoutani’s hands clumsily reached for your bottoms, briefly breaking the kiss to unbutton your pants and yank them, along with your underwear, off your legs. he then did the same to himself, giving his leather belt a thoughtful once-over before glancing back at your face. he was clearly deliberating about something in his head, though you were completely clueless as to what, but he ultimately threw the belt to the side alongside his jeans with a shrug of his shoulders. maybe next time, he thought.

meanwhile, you’d taken off your shirt and were tugging at the hem at kyoutani’s. he seized your forearm, “stop being so impatient,” he chastised, before pulling the cloth over his head and letting it drop to the floor.

breathless, you both marveled in the glory of the other’s naked body. kyoutani, a lot more eager than you—though he’d rather die than admit that—closed the distance between you, leaning down to suck on your tongue. when he separated from you, his eyes cloudy and cheeks flushed, you spit in your palm, maintaining eye contact while feeling blindly for his cock.

he hissed, briefly shutting his eyes, as your fingers closed around his shaft, leisurely stroking up and down.

“where’s the lube?”

“in the,“ his voice became strained as your thumb swirled his pre-cum around the tip, “the bo-bottom drawer. i’ll,” he groaned. “i’ll get it.”

you released his cock as he leaned over, opening the drawer and pulling out the bottle. he dribbled some of the liquid on the pads of his fingers and brought them closer to your hole. you tensed, eyes squeezing in anticipation as you prepared for the intrusion.

nothing happened.

in confusion, you opened your eyelids only to be met with the mildly-entertained expression of the man above you. “so hasty,” he tsked. his fingertips circled your fluttering hole but did nothing more.

“stop teasing,” you pleaded.

he slowly inched his fingers in, groaning as he watched your walls stretch to accommodate him. for a few minutes, he did nothing but push in and out and scissor his fingers, making you wider and wider.

“put it in.”

your words were met with little resistance—he wanted this as much as you did, if not more—and he repositioned himself, aligning his cock with your hole, now stretched and slick with lube. he moved his hips in, moaning lightly as he bottomed out.

“f-fuck,” he mumbled. “you’re so tight.”

“just move.”

he obliged, thrusting in and out, faster and faster, until you both were crying out in pleasure, scrumptiously close to your orgasms.

“i’m gonna cum soon,” you babbled. “don’t s-stop.”

“oh, are you now?”

you nodded mindlessly, brain hazy and unable to register the sinister undertone of his question.

“y-yeah. i’m so close. so. close—fuck i’m gon-”

kyoutani suddenly halted his movements, eyes blazing as he looked down at you.

“wha-why’d you stop?” you couldn’t help but whine. “i was so close.”

“are you seriously asking me that? why i stopped?” he taunted. “who’s the one that called me a ‘needy bitch’? huh?”

shit. if you’d known that he was going to use your jabs against you like this, you never would’ve made them. hindsight is a bitch.

“i didn’t mean it, kyo,” you pleaded, innocently using the cute nickname. “you know that. so why don’t you just give me what i wan-”

he pushed your cheeks in with his fingers, effectively quieting your protests. “be quiet,” he spat, “and take what i give you. or nothing at all.”

he thought for a moment. “and call me ken.”

he resumed his thrusts, significantly more erratic than before, and you couldn’t help but call out his name: ken, k-ken, fuck ken, more.

however, you’d sobered up from your denied release, and a wicked plan was beginning to formulate in your head. kyoutani, actually ken, now, was losing his composure even faster than you were—he’d denied himself an orgasm for the sake of punishing you, after all. you could tell that his dominance was crumbling—his shaking forearms and barely concealed moans had not gone unnoticed—and now was a good a time as ever for revenge.

and his chain, his stupid, fucking, gold chain, was getting on your nerves, clashing with your face every time his hips met yours. fed up and driven by vengeance, you clasped your teeth around the glimmering necklace, catching him off-guard.

he looked down at you, curiosity shining through his lustful gaze. “what’re yo-”

you quickly jerked your head to the side, yanking him off balance and making him land on his side. in an instant, you’d forced him onto his back and straddled his muscular thighs, a triumphant look visible on your face.

“how’d you even d-” ken choked on his words as you slammed back down on him again, taking him impossibly deeper. his hands scrambled to grip the bedsheets, “shit.”

“for the record,” you panted in between heavy breaths, rocking your hips, “i called you a needy bitch because you are a needy bitch.”

“shut up. no i’m no-”

your hand closed around his neck, preventing him from continuing. “yes you are,” you insisted, “and you’ll take whatever i give you.”

he shook his head out of your grasp, gasping for air. “i fucking hate you.”

“open your mouth,” you ordered. he glared at you defiantly. “open,” you purposefully clenched, tightening your hold on his cock, “up.”

at the sudden change in pressure, he couldn’t help but throw his head back and moan, allowing you to harshly grab his chin and let your salvia drip off your lips onto his awaiting tongue.

“swallow,” you demanded.

overwhelmed by the undeniable pleasure coursing through his veins, he did so without complaint. why does it taste good, he sighed internally. now i’m gonna want more.

just a few thrusts later, you both reached your orgasms, moaning far too loud in a room of walls that were far too thin. the intensity made your muscles turn to jelly and you collapsed onto ken’s chiseled chest, your bodies both trembling.

“‘m tired,” you mumbled into his collarbone.

“yeah me too,” he snapped. “you’re fucking exhausting to be around. i don’t know why i do it.”

“i do,” you teased, raising your head, “‘cus you’re a needy bi-”

he mashed your cheek back into his shoulder. “don’t finish that.” you weren’t sure if the fuzziness in your mind was clouding your judgement, but you swore you could hear the hint of a snicker in his voice.

gradually shaking the exertion out of your limbs, you picked up your clothes and got dressed, walking out ken’s front door with a middle-finger throw over your shoulder.

“i hope i never have to see you again!” he called out behind you.

as you headed back to your apartment, your phone buzzed with a text:

[02:01 AM] ken: i have a team dinner on tues and its gonna be annoying and ill probably be frustrated as hell

[02:01 AM] ken: so

you hesitated before responding.

[02:01 AM] you: i can be there around 10

[02:02 AM] ken: cool. sounds good

you couldn’t help the corners of your mouth from turning up. you were happy—in a sick, perverted, sex-crazed kind of way—but happy all the same.

tuesday couldn’t come soon enough. you were going to absolutely destroy each other.

#the chain biting was such a sexy brain move on my part #like how did i even think of that #that one paragraph literally belongs in a museum #spreading my gold chain kyoutani agenda #kinky.inky #haikyuu smut #haikyuu! smut #kyoutani x reader #kyotani kentaro x reader #maddog #maddog x reader #tw.hate sex #tw.degradation #tw.toxic #tw.choking #tw.spit #kyoutani

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 310: A Tale of Two Kacchans

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Deku was all, “hey, you know what sounds like a good decision? Abandoning my studies at the safest place in the country so that the bad guy who wants to find me and kill me has literally nothing standing in his way of doing that.” All Might was all, “I fucking knew you were going to say some bullshit like that so whatever, but I’M COMING WITH YOU and I’m also going to invite the Hawksquad to come with us, mostly so that I can steal Jeanist’s car.” Jeanist was all, “okay fine you can borrow my car, All Might, but only if you wear jeans.” All Might was all, “okay sure” and he wore jeans and also sunglasses and a leather jacket and it was pretty rad. Anyway so now they’re out there fighting crime and hunting down the LoV and stuff, and absolutely none of it is going to end well, I’m just letting you know now. But I guess we’ll let them enjoy it while it lasts.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “happy belated Kacchan’s Birthday makeste, here’s the flashback you really wanted at long last,” and proceeds to pull the old vestige flashback out of the kitchen drawer and upend its contents all over my Friday afternoon without the slightest bit of warning. OFA III is all “WHAT’S UP I’M JUST SOME GUY, HELLO,” and okay?? Hello yourself. OFA II, on the other hand, is all, “okay yeah I have different hair and stuff, but I’m like 98% sure I’m either Bakugou or his goddamn twin, I mean look at me.” Which, yeah. I looked, and he really is though you guys. Anyway though, so he and OFA II basically just showed up in the First (who goes by Yoichi now)’s prison cell one day all “HEY THERE, WE’RE HERE TO SAVE YOU, APPARENTLY, ALTHOUGH WE SEEM REAL CONFUSED ABOUT IT TBH BUT HEY.” And so they saved him, and Yoichi was all “hey nice to meet you do you want to join my super-exclusive Saving The World Club”, and so they did, and then the chapter ended lol. I would have said yes too.

oh my sweet lord?? I didn’t realize we were getting a color page this week, but LOOK AT THIS

this could have been a fucking volume cover. I’m almost mad that it wasn’t, lol but I mean fkldjslklk just look at it??! Horikoshi out here spoiling us and making sure we’re well fed since next week the manga is on break for Golden Week. well this will certainly help to tide me over. hot damn look at those colors

so now it’s raining on some dumb building in the middle of somewhere

is this where the Hawksquad has set up camp for the night? or are we actually cutting back to the League? that’d be unexpected (but not unwelcome)

ffff nevermind dammit it’s just more random citizens under attack

feels like this is the third or fourth scene we’ve had of civilians being Under Attack since this arc started. I mean no offense, but I think we get it by this point. it’s the end times, etc. etc. we’re well aware that things have gone to shit

so apparently these two guys are facing off against a girl with a mutant quirk. and she’s telling them that she’s not a monster and she was just scared, oh shit. I believe her btw, you can see it in her face

but these assholes don’t believe her at all and they’re pointing what looks to be some type of support item gun at her

you know what’s interesting, is that this kind of random quirk discrimination is the exact kind of thing PLF and the like were swearing up and down they’d put a stop to with their glorious revolution. it’s almost like those guys were completely full of shit. huh

so yeah, fortunately for this woman someone is stepping in and intervening before she can be blasted to bits by this trigger-happy asshole for absolutely no fucking reason

looks like a hero actually stepped in and saved her?? but no that can’t be, heroes are the ones that ruin everything and make everything worse, or so I understand. lol where did all of this sarcasm come from out of nowhere dlkdsjlk I’m sorry guys I just suddenly got swept up in the hypocrisy of certain people’s philosophies out of the blue idek

anyway so it is of course Deku saving her, and now he’s trying to talk thess jerks down all diplomatically instead of just kicking their asses, which is certainly a choice

MOTHERFUCKER I’M

fucking impossible to miss the real world parallels here. shit. this woman nearly died for her crime of Walking While Having A Mutant Quirk huh. and meanwhile Deku is just letting this guy scurry away and even letting him keep that fucking bazooka of his, like, ????

fucking hell she’s crying!!

lmao this chapter is actively trying to make me mad now huh. that’s some genuine righteous anger I’m feeling on behalf of this fictional ferret lady whom I only met two minutes ago. girl you are not the one who needs to explain herself here!! you didn’t do anything wrong holy fuck. everything about this situation sucks so much

fkKJKLMMMHFGH

“I’m sorry I made you upset, please enjoy this panel of tiny!floating!Deku hefting this lady’s massive beach umbrella up for her like the fucking gentleman he is” well okay then thank you sir

and JUST LIKE THAT the tension is broken and I’m entirely incapable of taking the rest of this conversation seriously because Deku’s trying to be all calming and authoritative, but now the illusion has been broken because I know he only comes up to like her knees

“well thanks again for saving me young man. I’ll leave you to it, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do like protecting your Lucky Charms cereal from all those greedy children”

oh hey All Might

you wouldn’t have just let that guy with the bazooka just walk away to commit more attempted murders would you?? man

OH MY GOD DEKU IS IMMEDIATELY DITCHING HIM AGAIN

I ~CANNOT STAY HERE~ oh, well, sorry to keep you detained I know you’re busy

dfslkjlk oh my god

fucking told you Deku didn’t pack any food lol. it’s literally all notebooks in that bag you guys. he couldn’t just leave them all in his dorm room when he left, because what if someone tried to read them and came across one of the pages where he absentmindedly doodled Kacchan’s name surrounded by little tiny hearts oh gosh

AWWWWW

I needed this Horikoshi. thank you for this wholesome soul-cleansing interaction after all of that bullshit earlier

so now Deku’s climbing up this tall building to eat his lunchbox more dramatically. Tokoyami would be proud

and Banjou is saying that society right now is just like in The Good Old Days (read: bad old days) when quirk society was even more of a mess than it is now

which is exactly how AFO likes it, no doubt

so now Deku’s having a whole conversation with Banjou seemingly out loud lol, weird. and he’s basically saying that they don’t have any clues as to where TomurAFO and the League are hiding right now, and none of the Tartarus escapees they’ve found knew anything either

mmmmmfmhm, marge simpson noises

but you think you can?? you, alone, by yourself?? you think you stand a chance?? I just need you to think this all through a bit more kid

Deku it is NOT JUST YOUR RESPONSIBILITY ALONE, PLEASE REALIZE THIS ALREADY. YOU MAY BE THE CHOSEN ONE, BUT EVEN THE CHOSEN ONE NEEDS HIS FRIENDS BY HIS SIDE GODDAMMIT

and of course my pleading is all in vain, because he’s a fictional character who can’t fucking hear me, and also because I’m pretty sure there’s only one character who is going to actually be able to get him to hear reason here. I’ve been saying it, and I’ll keep saying it lol. so until then I guess I’ll just have to be patient

anyway so it appears we’re segueing into another flashback??? HORIKOSHI PLEASE GIVE ME SOME BAKUCRUMBS BEFORE THE TWO WEEK BREAK, I BEG YOU

dlKSDJLFKWJELKGHSLGKLEKJLFKHLGK

YES, THANK YOU, I KNOW WHERE THIS FUCKING IS LOL, IT’S NOT LIKE I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH FINDING OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN THE REST OF THIS SCENE OR ANYTHING LMAO. BUT ANYWAYS DON’T MIND ME, YOU WERE SAYING??

oh my god oh my god I’m not readyyyyy, but also FUCK YEAH I AM SO FUCKING READY LOL LET’S DO THIS

YOU GUYS

I’M ABOUT TO STEP IN THAT ROOM AND YEET ONE OF THOSE FUCKING CHAIRS AT YOU ALL

NOOOOO

I’M ABOUT TO GRAB BANJOU’S GOGGLES AND STRETCH THEM OUT AND SNAP THEM BACK SO THEY SMACK THE SHIT OUT OF HIS FOREHEAD!!! IT’S WHAT HE DESERVES!!! I’M ABOUT TO MOVE TO JAPAN AND GET A JOB WITH DOORDASH AND FIND OUT WHAT HORIKOSHI LIKES TO ORDER FOR LUNCH SO I CAN BE THE ONE TO DELIVER IT SO THAT WHEN HE OPENS THE DOOR I CAN FINALLY ASK HIM “HEY WHAT THE FUCK” IN PERSON

AHHH NO EVERYBODY SHHHHH STOP TALKING!!!!

SOMEONE PLEASE TELL THAT PERSON SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS IN THE BACKGROUND TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, OH WAIT, THAT’S ME

(」゜ロ゜)」 щ(゜ロ゜щ)

LOL THIS FUCKING ASSHOLE!!! LOOK AT YOU!!! YOU’RE NOT KIRISHIMA OR SHINSOU OR IIDA IN A WIG OR ANYBODY LOL. YOU’RE JUST A DUDE. BROOOOO ABOUT FUCKING TIME, WHAT’S GOOD

I CAN’T SCROLL DOWN AHHHH BUT I HAVE TO BUT IT’S TOO INTENSE AHHHHHHH

I CAN SEE THE TOP OF HIS SPIKY HEAD, IT’S FINALLY THAT TIME AHHHHHHHH OKAY I’M GONNA DO IT HERE GOES

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

IT’S HIM. IT FUCKING REALLY FUCKIGN IS HIM OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. WHY AM I SO SHOCKED LMAO I’M THE ONE WHO’S BEEN SAYING THIS THE WHOLE DAMN TIME LMAO. OH GOD. O H MY FUCKING GOD

well okay then sir. so are you an ~ancestor~ or a Kacchan from another timeline or so what’s your deal then

YOICHI WHO IS YOICHI

YOICHI ALWAYS KNOWS WHAT’S UP. LMAO WHO IS YOICHI

(ETA: I’m going to punch myself in the face lmao. he’s Yoichi. he, the First. that’s his name. name reveal at long last what what!!)

MORE IMPORTANTLY SHOULD I BE IMAGINING NOBU’S VOICE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE LMAO I AM ANYWAY BUT YEAH

(ETA: I actually think he’s going to end up being voiced by Nobuhiko whether he ends up being Kacchan or not, just because it fits right in with the general “identical in almost every way” aesthetic he’s got going on.)

TUMBLR HOW WE LIKING OUR ANGSTY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN?? EVERYONE HATED YOU SO MUCH BEFORE THEY EVEN MET YOU, BUT THEY FORGOT TO CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOU MIGHT BE HOT LMAO WHAT A TWIST

“some bright-eyed brat” oh come on. IT’S GOTTA BE HIM LOL

oh my god you all are probably TIRED AS FUCK of all my screaming but I’M SORRY IMMA HAVE TO DO IT ONE LAST TIME BECAUSE...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

that face. that expression!! THE FACT THAT HE’S OUT HERE OPENING DOORS WITH HIS FEET, LIKE HOLY SHIT!! JUST ADMIT THE JIG IS UP ALREADY

and so they really are the ones who busted First out of his jail cell huh

so how did they know you were in the room?? why did they come and break you out?? and how, pray tell, did they know to get you to transfer OFA to them?? hmmmMMMMMMMM

oh MY GOD

you guys. oh my god. it’s too much. every last bit of it lines up exactly with the Bakuverse theory sdkjfj I’m short-circuiting. it’s really fucking happening oh my lord

HELLO SEXY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN WITH HIS SEXY FUCKING SCAR, FUCK YEAH WE REALLY ARE EATING GOOD THIS CHAPTER

HELL YEAH WE’RE GOING. WE’RE GOING FULL SPEED YOU GUYS. LMAO I’M SO FUCKING HYPED RIGHT NOW I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF WEFKJLDKFFFF

SO, EVERYONE, LET’S RECAP. -- ACTUALLY NO, I STARTED TO WRITE UP A LIST, BUT I IMMEDIATELY REALIZED IT REALLY JUST NEEDS TO GO IN ITS OWN THREAD. SO I MADE IT AND POSTED IT, AND NOW I’M FINISHING UP THIS HOT MESS OF A RECAP POST. SO NOW WE’RE BACK TO THIS ONE FINAL PANEL OF DEKU EATING HIS KATSU ALL SERIOUS

YES SIR. YES SIR, WE GOING, FULL SPEED AHEAD, WHATEVER, IDK WTF IS HAPPENING BUT YES!!

lol, anyways so as I said in my other post, mysterious sexy guys with tragic pasts are what bring us together as a fandom, so whatever your thoughts are on the rest of it, let’s just rejoice in that. it’s what we deserve

#bnha 310 #midoriya izuku #ofa prime #ofa ii #bakugou katsuki #MAYBE???#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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ediths · 4 years

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Not Going Anywhere Without You

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: When Y/N finds out that she’s expecting, she’s scared out of her mind. She doesn’t know how she’s going to get through it all. She doesn’t know if Harry even wants to be a father. Fortunately, Harry’s more than ready to take a step back from the stage for a while to start the family that he’s longed for his entire life.

Warning(s): unplanned pregnancy, nerves, pet names, a brief argument (idek if you could call it an argument tbh), fluffiness, dad!harry

A/N: this is one of the pieces that have been on my mind since i saw the dadathon that @tbslenthusiast is hosting!! Everyone should go read the masterlist of submissions and join if you want to!! Also a warm thank you to @taintedwonder and @sunflowers-styles for beta reading/getting me through writing the whole thing!!! and @havethetimeofyourstyles for listening to me tell her about how i cried writing/editing this (ily jill) !!!!!

Masterlist | Taglist | Request - Guidelines | Come Talk!

Reblogs help a lot and are greatly appreciated!!

There’s absolutely no way that this can be happening.

She stares down at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test and has to hold back the sobs that are threatening to overtake her. How could this be happening? No. This simply just cannot be happening to her.

Except it is. She’s pregnant. She’s carrying the child that she and Harry have created together. The truly awful part though? She doesn’t even know how to feel about it.

Of course, she’s excited. She’s happy. All she has ever wanted is a family with the man that she loves, but she's also nervous. She has no idea how he’s going to react to this. She doesn’t know how any of this is going to work. He’s in the middle of a world tour and she doesn’t even know if he’ll be done by the time she’s due.

Hell, she doesn’t even know when she’s due. She doesn’t know how far along she is and the amount of unknown facts threaten to send her spiraling.

What if he’s mad? What if he doesn’t want the baby? What if she has to do this alone? She doesn’t think she can be a single mother.

There are so many unknowns and there’s no way that she can do this on her own. For the time being, however, she knows she has to figure this out herself. She’s in their house in London while he’s in the States performing to thousands of screaming fans every night. There’s no way that she can drop this news on him in the middle of that chaos.

No, she reminds herself instead that he’ll be home in less than a month and she can tell him then. It’s better to do these things in person anyway.

Fortunately, that also means that she has a few weeks to calm the nerves that are coursing through her entire body. She also has that time to figure out how she’s going to break the news to him. She can’t just come out and say “Oh by the way, hey, I’m pregnant.” Can she?

“I’m pregnant.” The moment the words tumble out of her mouth she hears the excited squeal coming from her mother.

She needed to tell someone about the news, and since Harry wasn’t an option yet, her mother had automatically been her first choice.

“Baby, I’m so happy for you!” She shrieks through the phone and Y/N can see how excited she is even though the FaceTime quality isn’t great. The image of her mother all but jumping up and down from excitement brings a beaming smile to her face. “Does H know yet?”

That question causes Y/N’s smile to falter and her mom immediately catches it. “Why doesn’t he know?”

“Well he’s not here and I didn’t want to tell him on the phone, and I don’t know, really. I just found out the other day and I guess I’m just a little scared.” She’s trying her best to not tear up, and the newfound hormones are not helping the cause, but the lump in her throat is letting her know that she’s not succeeding.

“Why are you scared?” Her mother questions softly, trying to get Y/N to open up about what’s bothering her without pushing too much.

“I’m not sure… just scared he isn’t going to be happy with me.” She’s surprised when her mother audibly scoffs at her words.

“Y/N, sweetheart. If you really think that he’s not going to drop to his knees the moment that you tell him you’re carrying his child, you’re delusional.” She lets out a light chuckle before continuing. “He’s so head over heels in love with you that there’s absolutely no way that he could ever be upset over something like that.”

“Yeah but what if he’s not ready? He said he had wanted to wait a bit.” The tears that she’s trying so desperately to suppress are beginning to pool in her eyes and she wants to kick herself for letting this get to her again.

“Honey, H is the only person I know that is completely, without a doubt, ready to have children.” The first tear rolls down Y/N’s cheek as she observes the way that her mother’s face softens at the mention of Harry being ready to start his family. “Y/N, the moment that you break the news to him, his entire life is going to get a million times better.”

She nods and knows in her heart that she has nothing to worry about. She continues to converse with her mom for a little while longer, moving on from the topic of the pregnancy and Harry. Her mother’s words had calmed her nerves considerably.

After the phone call ends she decides to text Harry; it feels like they haven’t been talking as much recently, and she feels bad, knowing that her nerves have partially been the reason for that.

Hey babe, how’s everything going? Where are you this evening?

His reply comes in an instant, almost as if he had been waiting for her text.

St. Paul :) it’s been pretty great here! The show was great last night! Haven’t really done much lately though, it’s just been hotel room after hotel room and show after show.

The thought of him sitting in his hotel rooms alone, more than likely nursing a drink to calm his post concert adrenaline, makes a frown appear on her face. She knows how he gets when he’s away on tour and has to watch everyone around him pair off and go out to enjoy the city that they’re stopped in. He hasn’t been up for going out as much recently and, despite her efforts, she doesn’t know why. He’s usually always up for going out to let the adrenaline run its course, but every time they’ve talked lately, he’s just been shut away up in his room.

Why don’t you go out and enjoy the city with the band, sweetheart?

Feels wrong to go out without you, angel. Miss you being here with me.

Her heart clenches in her chest and she can’t help but feel guilty. He had asked (more like begged) her to come on the North American leg of the tour with him. She had refused, thinking that she needed to stay at home so she wouldn’t have to take so many days off of work. Looking back on it, she probably could have taken the time off and not had to explain. It was just one of the things that seemed to happen when her boss had found out she was dating Harry Styles.

I’m sorry for not coming with you :( I miss you, though. So, so much.

The awful feeling in her gut doesn’t subside - in fact, it only grows stronger. She suddenly realizes that if she had said yes, she would be with him right now. Not only would she be getting him out of those god forsaken hotel rooms but she also wouldn’t be withholding the life changing information that she has.

It’s alright, love. I’ll see you in a few weeks and then we can be together for a while. No worrying about tour.

The prospect of him being at home for a while, possibly even more than a year, causes excitement to course through her veins. Maybe if he’s home for long enough to where he can start raising their child with her, then he’ll be happier when she tells him the news.

I can’t wait until you’re back in my arms, bubs. I miss cuddling with you.

She can’t see him right now but she knows that - most likely - he’s got that soft smile on his face that he always says is reserved for her. He always does so when he lets himself take a moment and think about cuddling with her.

You’ll get all the cuddles the moment that I’m home. Promise.

Their conversation doesn’t last much longer. With the time zones being so different and the two of them being in different countries, with their sadness eating away at them.

She’s in his arms the moment that he swings the front door open. The force of the surprise impact knocks him back for a moment, but he eventually regains his balance and wraps his arms around her.

She sighs in content at the feeling of warmth radiating from his body to hers. He’s always been warmer than her, but right now, after he’s been gone for months, he feels warmer than all the blankets she’s tried to keep herself cozy with.

“Hey, baby.” He mumbles into her hair, not making any move to pull away or even shut the door.

“I missed you so much.” He can hear the crack in her voice and he immediately squeezes her tighter.

“Missed you too, darling.”

She’s the one to pull away first. She unwraps herself from his arms and moves to shut the door behind him. She avoids meeting his eyes knowing that he’s already sensed that something is going on. She never pulls away first, and she’s afraid that he’s going to notice and ask her about it. Hopefully, he’ll just brush it off as the fact that the door needed to be closed or that dinner still needed to be cooked.

Of course, he doesn’t just brush it off. “Is something bothering you?”

She turns away from him and begins to make her way towards the kitchen. “I’m fine, H.”

“Love, please don’t lie to me.” Her breath hitches and her steps falter. That’s the last thing she wants to do but she knows if she looks at him and tells him what’s really going on inside her head, she’s going to completely crumble.

“I’m not lying to you, honey. I’m fine.” He scoffs at her words. He knows they’re not true, but he chooses not to push her too far. If he continues to pester her about it, she’ll close herself off to him and then there will be absolutely no way that he’ll be able to figure out what’s bugging her.

“Do you want me to cook dinner, petal?” He comes up behind where she had stopped and wraps his arms around her from behind. She immediately leans into him and he knows that all she needs right now is his love.

“I can do it, honey. You’ve been busy lately.” She hesitantly turns in his arms and peers up at him biting her lip.

Now seems like as good of a time as ever to tell him.

“H, can we maybe wait a minute on the food?” She tries her best to not let her voice waiver but she knows there’s a slight wobble that won’t go unnoticed by Harry.

“Yeah, of course.” He keeps his arms wrapped around her and waits for her to make the first move.

She stands still for a few moments, barely moving an inch. She inhales but it’s shaky and she feels the tears bubbling up to the surface before she can stop them. She tucks her head into his chest as the sobs that she’s been holding in for weeks escape.

“Shh. It’s okay, petal. I’ve got you. Just let it out.” He smooths the small wisps of hair on her head and slowly rocks their bodies back and forth. The gestures calm her and soon enough the tears start to subside.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She sighs at his question and he’s scared that he’s crossed a line, that he’s asked too much of her too soon. He knows that he hasn’t, however, when she slowly nods her head and takes a step back.

He releases his hold on her and she wipes the remaining wetness of her cheeks. She glances around the kitchen and Harry gently lifts her up onto the counter so that she won’t have to stay standing.

“Um, so I have to tell you something.” She starts, and she busies herself with picking at her nails to avoid his gaze. “And I don’t want you to be mad, okay?”

She still doesn’t look up at him, but she pauses, giving him the time to answer. After he hums his agreement, she takes a shaky breath and continues. “I didn’t plan for this to happen, I promise. I just… I don’t know… somehow it happened and I just… this is terrifying. And I’m probably making absolutely no sense right now, I’m so sorry.” She can feel the lump in her throat returning yet again and she buries her face in her hands to take a minute to breathe.

Harry hasn’t moved from the spot that he was in. He feels like his feet are stuck to the floor. He can’t come up with a reasonable guess as to what she could possibly be talking about and it’s making him more nervous that being on stage does.

“It’s okay, baby. Take your time.” He doesn’t want her to feel like she has to rush to get the words out.

“Um, so, I know you’re on tour and you have a career that doesn’t slow down for anyone, which is why when I tell you this I want you to know that you don’t have to stick around for it. I can do it on my own, okay?” His stomach drops when she says that, but he doesn’t say anything yet. “I’m… I’m pregnant, H. Like I said, you don’t have to help if you don’t want to, you’re terribly busy, and---

“Y/N why would you even say that?” He tries to hold the harshness back, to not snap at her right now, but the fact that she thinks he wouldn’t want to be completely present in his child’s life makes him see red.

“What do you mean?” She’s suddenly on alert, the tone of his voice taking her completely by surprise.

“How could you even let the thought cross your mind that I wouldn’t want to be around? You know me, love.” He’s trying his hardest to not let his emotions take over because honestly, he’s not entirely sure if he’d start yelling or break down sobbing.

“Harry, you’re a singer. Your entire career is touring the world. Singing is your dream, and there’s no way that I’m going to ask you to give that up.” She didn’t think that he would be offended by her giving him an out, but by the cracking in his voice, it’s clear she’s never said something more hurtful to him.

“Yeah, music is my job, and I love that. But my dream, Y/N, the thing that I want more than anything in this entire world, is you.” His voice catches in his throat and she finally looks up at him. He looks broken, like the things she said, the things she thought would help, really just ripped his heart into shreds.

“H, I really can’t ask you to give that up in any way.” She wants to give in, to say that everything will be fine, that he can take time off of touring if he wants. The rational part of her, however, the part that remembers asking him to give this up to any extent could make him resent her, fights against it.

“Baby, listen to me, please.” He pleads. “You’re not asking me to do anything. Regardless of whether or not you want me in our child’s life… which I pray to the lord that you do, I’m taking time off after the tour. I want to spend time at home, with you, with both of you.” He gently cradles her face in his palms and strokes her cheek with his thumb.

“Are you sure?” She doesn’t want to keep fighting him on it. All she wants is to raise the family that she’s wanted for her entire life with the most extraordinary love.

“Absolutely.” He promises.

He bends slightly so that his face is directly in front of her stomach. “Daddy's going to be here for you and Mommy every step of the way, bub.”

Thank you so much for reading lovelies!!!!! Again, reblog the pieces that you like and don’t be afraid to leave feedback!!

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redgillan · 4 years

Text

Under Pastel Skies - 7

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,480

Warnings: none

A/N: This is long overdue, sorry - hopefully it’s worth it. It’s also incredibly long... idek anymore. I want to thank you all for your patience and support. It means a lot to me.

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

You grumbled into your pillow when you heard your phone buzz on the bedside table. Cracking one eye open, you lifted your phone and squinted to read the neon numbers showing on the screen.

7:12 a.m.

You had an email notification, nothing important, but it somehow managed to come through the ‘Do Not Disturb’ feature. You knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep so you got up and padded barefoot into the kitchen.

A smile curled up your lips when you saw the leftovers from your made-up holiday. There were a few cookies and muffins in a plate, a large bowl of cereals, and two dirty milkshake glasses on the counter.

It had been a fun and relaxing couple of days. You ate, talked, played board games, and watched movies in your fanciest loungewear attire. Bucky sought your touch more than usual and it left you a little confused. Every time he touched you, the line between feelings of friendship and feelings of love became blurred.

Bucky was an early riser, always up before you, dressed in his usual khakis and long sleeved Henley shirts with his hair slightly tousled. He looked effortlessly sexy and always had a warm smile for you even though you looked like a hot mess in your mismatched pyjamas, staggering into the kitchen, blindly following the smell of food cooking on the stove.

Today, the kitchen was silent. Bucky was probably still asleep, so you decided to cook breakfast. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d catch him in his night clothes.

Wasting no time, you made a beeline for the coffee machine. You filled the water tank and measured fresh grounds into the filter, but your task was interrupted when you heard groans coming from somewhere nearby. You soon figured out that the sounds were coming from the living room.

Curious, you silently made your way toward the sound. The shades were up, and you could see the midnight blue sky fading into pastel hues of yellow and pink with the approaching dawn. Under any other circumstances, you would have been completely enraptured by its beauty, but something else caught your attention.

Bucky was standing upside down with his head on a yoga mat. His eyes were closed and his features were set in an expression of serious concentration. You half hid behind the wall and observed him.

You were impressed, his headstand was perfectly vertical and he was doing it without hand support, meaning that he was supporting his entire weight on his neck. He slowly lowered one toe back down, then the other, before he rested his forearm on the mat and lifted his butt toward the ceiling, his body forming a perfect inverted V.

“You’re up already,” he asked, sitting back on his haunches. “I can hear you breathing behind that wall.”

Busted...

You peeked out into the living room and cringed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you but that was sooo impressive.” You walked into the room and perched yourself on the arm of the sofa, facing Bucky who was kneeling at your feet. “How do you do that?”

He chuckled, his cheeks red from exertion and bashfulness. “Practice. Yoga’s good for building strength.”

He looked up at you with a boyish smile, his hair damp with perspiration. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, rolling too close to his eyes and making him squint.

His pants left little to the imagination, the fabric stretched across his powerful thighs, and his sleeveless shirt clung to his drenched chest, outlining his muscles. Your eyes darted to his left shoulder where his stump was visible.

Despite living with him for over two months, you had never seen him in one of those sleeveless shirts before, though you couldn’t blame him since it was the middle of winter and you hadn’t been wearing any either. It was warm inside the apartment but not enough to walk around bare-armed.

“It’s easier to do yoga when the sleeve isn’t slapping me in the face every five seconds,” Bucky said, looking at his stump. “But I can cover it up if you prefer.”

“No! Of course not,” you rushed to say. “I’m sorry. That was really rude.”

“You were just looking, it’s only natural,” he said. “People are curious. Staring... well, staring is different.” His frown smoothed away and he turned to you with a smile. “Are you hungry?”

You smiled down at him. “Starving.”

“I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick, then I’ll start breakfast.”

“Actually, I was about to start cooking before I got distracted.” Bucky looked away, a slight blush covering his cheeks. “But I think we have plenty of food left over from last night.”

“We’re not eating cookies for breakfast,” he said. “We’ll save them for later. Right now we need something healthy.” He grinned as he pushed himself to his feet and ran upstairs. “I’ll be right back.”

You shook your head at his antics and returned to the kitchen to finish making coffee. After all he’d done for you, it was the least you could do. You knew Bucky liked cooking –and he was damn good at it- but sometimes you wondered if this was a fair arrangement.

He had given you a place to stay, money, food to eat, your own artist’s studio, and you had given him... nothing. Admittedly, you knew that your presence calmed him, comforted him. You gave him the emotional support he desperately needed and it was important, but he could also have adopted a pet.

Too tired for coffee or tea, you poured yourself a glass of orange juice, hoping it would wake you up. It worked but your self-deprecating thoughts were still playing havoc in your mind.

You were fixing Bucky’s coffee when he came back downstairs after his shower, and you were pleasantly surprised to find him wearing a clean sleeveless shirt. You met his eyes and found that he was watching you intently. You offered him a smile and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

“Looking good, James.”

He looked down at his feet with a bashful smile as he crossed the room slowly. You observed him in silence while he prepared breakfast for the two of you. It was a simple breakfast bowl with yogurt, granola, fresh fruits and honey but he somehow made it look like a gourmet dish.

“There you go, angel,” he said, setting your bowl in front of you. “What are you going to do today?”

You took a slice of kiwi and dipped in yogurt. “I think I’m going to paint. You?”

Bucky licked his spoon and you stared at it longingly before you quickly averted your eyes. No, you couldn’t be jealous of a goddamn spoon. Catch yourself on.

“I have an idea for a new book,” he said, running his tongue along his teeth to clean them before he spoke again. “I had a meeting with my agent last week. It went well, my old publisher really wants to work with me again. I’m signing my contract this afternoon.”

“Bucky!” you squealed after swallowing your mouthful of yogurt a little too fast. “That’s amazing!”

“Thank you,” he said, staring into nothing with wide eyes. “I’m nervous, scared and excited at the same time. It’s strange, y’know, all these feelings mixed together. It’s a bit overwhelming and I haven’t even started yet.”

“Don’t think too much,” you said. “You’ve done this before, you can do it again.”

“Yeah,” he replied, smiling.

You scraped your spoon around the bowl and licked it clean. “What’s it about? Is it a novel? Can I be in it?”

Bucky chuckled to himself and you figured that every single writer had friends who begged them to appear in their books. You couldn’t help it, the idea of living forever as ink on a page was too tempting.

“It’s not a novel,” he said. “It’s the third instalment of my series. The style is a little hard to explain but this is what I like to say: self-help book meets Bridget Jones’ Diary.”

“I tried to look you up but I couldn’t find anything written by a James Barnes or a Bucky Barnes.” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you a fraud? Or are you using a pen name?”

He pretended to think about it. “I’m a fraud.”

“I knew it,” you mock-sighed.

Bucky took your bowl and placed it in the sink along with his. When he started cleaning them, you joined him and took a dish towel.

“I’ll tell you soon,” he spoke after a moment.

“It’s okay, take your time.”

You knew he wasn’t going to tell you what his pen name was, not now at least. His books were a reflection of his struggles, his success, and his fears, and you could understand why he preferred to keep you in the dark for now.

The people who read his books didn’t know him, they were just anonymous faces in a crowd but you were real. You were his friend, his new friend, and your opinion mattered.

“It’s been a couple of years since I’ve published my last book. My agent said that people haven’t forgotten about me but I still have to,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “’show my face’, just to remind everyone that I’m still writing.” He sighed.

“There’s a charity event next month at the museum of Natural History,” he continued. “It’s a huge event, a lot of important people will be there, including some of the most famous gallerists and curators in the country. You’re allowed to say no but,” he paused and turned to look at you, “do you want to come with me?”

You pressed your lips together while you mulled this over. There was no doubt in your mind that it was a great opportunity, one that you would have never had without Bucky, and you knew you had to say yes. But this was your least favourite part of being an artist.

You didn’t know how to sell yourself and you always felt like an arrogant asshat when you spoke about your paintings, even though you had every right to be proud of your work.

You had managed to persuade yourself that this new life would last forever. Eat, laugh, paint, repeat forever. But it wasn’t real. You had to put yourself out there, even if it made you uncomfortable because painting was only half your job.

Something else bothered you. You didn’t want to be the poor, struggling artist who took advantage of a charity event to make herself known. It seemed wrong and hypocritical.

You voiced your concerns to Bucky who looked at you with a pained expression.

“Yes, it’s a fundraiser but I can assure you that everyone at the party will be talking business and exchanging business cards,” he said. “And they’ll compensate with a huge donation to clear their guilty conscience. Is it false philanthropy? Absolutely, and I’m ashamed to say I’m one of them. You’re not taking advantage of a good cause, we are.”

“You’re nothing like them,” you said. “You’re kind and selfless, you’re a good person.”

“I’m not sure that’s true, angel,” he said with a tight smile.

When you opened your mouth to protest, he leaned forward and cupped the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, ending the conversation. He had never done that before and you froze, feeling equal parts confused, incredulous and appreciated.

He pulled back and wiped down the sink with the sponge, acting like kissing you so sweetly was something completely normal, like he was unbothered. Meanwhile you just stood there wondering if you would ever be able to breathe normally again.

You pressed your lips together hard and tried to gather your thoughts but your mind was reeling. You were about to leave the room when your eyes landed on a pile of mail on the kitchen counter.

The first letter was a cheesy view of the Tower Bridge, the words ‘Greetings from London’ written in bold cursive letters across the postcard.

You only knew one person who still sent postcards.

Wanda.

“What’s this?” you asked, nodding toward the stack of mail.

Confused, Bucky looked to you then followed your line of sight and saw the mail. “Oh, Natasha dropped these off last night. She wanted to see you but you were already asleep.”

You nodded distractedly while you picked up the postcard. The sight of it filled you with anxiety. Your sister didn’t’ send these postcards often, but every time you received one it reminded you that things were different now. Gone was the happy and supportive family you used to cherish.

Your breath caught in your throat as you read Wanda’s hastily written words.

I’m coming home.

She was coming home. A wave of nausea ran through you and your breathing came shallow and fast.

“Wow, wow, wow.” You felt Bucky’s hand at our waist, steering you toward a chair, and you realized your legs were giving way under you. “Deep breaths, angel. Look at me. There you go!”

“Sorry,” you said. “See what happens when you don’t let me eat cookies for breakfast?”

Bucky smiled at your poor attempt at humour. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

You debated telling him but you weren’t sure how to voice your concerns so you handed him the postcard instead. You had told Bucky about Wanda. She had disappeared after Pietro’s death, sending postcards from time to time as proof that she was still alive and well.

“Your sister is coming home.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I haven’t seen her for six years. She doesn’t know our mom has Alzheimer, she doesn’t know I sold our old childhood home. She keeps sending those postcards there. I gave the new owners Natasha’s address in case they still receive our mail. They’re very nice.” You let out a humourless laugh. “I had absolutely no idea what I was doing when I sold our house, and they could have taken advantage of me but they didn’t. I guess it’s not every day you buy a family house from a 24 year old girl. It probably screams tragic backstory, uh?”

“You did this on your own?”

“Yup.”

Bucky put his hand on your knee and gave you a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

You looked down at his thumb rubbing soothing circles just above your knee. “Yeah, it wasn’t easy.” You paused, then raised your head to look at him. “Living with you makes my life so much easier. I live in my own little bubble where I don’t have to be an adult. I feel like I can finally breathe. And I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me and all you continue to do.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, shaking his head. “We help each other. We’re good together.”

“Yes, of course,” you said with a smile. “But we both know it’ll have to end one day. It has to, one way or another. I want to be more independent, start my career and support my family. I don’t want to rely on others anymore. I want to rely on myself.”

“But there’s no rush, angel.”

“I know, but nothing’s gonna change if I stay in my little bubble. I have to do things that make me uncomfortable.”

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’ll come with you to the fundraiser.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up in surprise but a smile broke across his face. “That’s great! But what about your sister?”

You shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do. She’ll probably go to our old house, realize it’s not ours anymore. If she’s lucky they’ll give her Natasha’s address. I’m sure she’ll have lots of questions but she can’t show up six years later and act like our bond is still intact. I’m not at her beck and call. I’m only responsible for myself and, Bucky, I’m so tired of trying to please everyone. I deserve to live my best life, goddammit.”

“I am so happy to hear you say that,” Bucky said, his smile blinding. “Celebratory cookie?”

“Yes! Two cookies, please,” you replied, out of breath. “I’m slightly freaking out.”

You spent the next couple of weeks planning for the event; painting, taking pictures of your work, posting them on Instagram, searching for gallerists and curators you wanted to work with and cross-checking the attendees.

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but wonder if Wanda was already in New York and if she was looking for you.

“Check this out!” you exclaimed, shoving a business card in Natasha’s face before you pushed past her to get into her apartment. “It’s official, I’m an artist.”

She laughed as she closed the door, her eyes on the card. “Hi, it’s nice to see you, too,” she deadpanned.

“Sorry, hi.”

“Well, looks like you’re all set. When’s the party?”

“Next week,” you replied, taking a seat on you former bed, her sofa. “I’m a little nervous, but also excited. I don’t know, it’s a strange feeling.”

Natasha pinned your business card onto the fridge using a magnet before she opened the refrigerator door and retrieved a bottle of orange juice. She took two glasses from the cupboard and joined you on the sofa.

“But, yeah, I’m ready. I have over two hundred business cards, I know who I want to work with, and I even bought an external battery pack just in case.”

“And what are you going to wear?” Natasha asked before taking a sip of orange juice. You looked at her with wide eyes, panic written all over your face. “You forgot to buy a dress,” she concluded out loud. “Why am I not surprised?”

“With everything going on, I completely forgot I had to... wear clothes.”

“I’m sure James wouldn’t mind seeing you in your birthday suit.” She laughed when you practically shoved her off the sofa. “Come on, I’ll help you look semi-decent.”

You groaned. “I don’t want to go shopping right now. Plus, I blew all my money on business cards.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s freezing outside, I’m not leaving my apartment,” she replied, reaching for her laptop. “You’re going to rent it.”

“Ew,” you made a face.

You remembered the formal wear store where you had rented your prom dress. The place smelled like moth balls and sweat, and the dress had given you a rash. Not a great memory.

“Trust me, I know this is your first but I’m a seasoned veteran. I’ve been to dozens of fundraisers, and I had to wear dozens of designer dresses. Do you even know how much a Saint Laurent evening gown cost? You can’t wear the same dress twice. That’s a big no-no. And it’s not just the dress. You need a clutch, a pair of shoes, jewelry, a coat. You have to rent them.”

“You’re giving me a headache.”

She opened up her web browser and typed in the website address for the dress rental. As she entered your size and budget, it was obvious that she knew her way around the website and you had to admit that it was a lot easier than traditional shopping.

You looked at the collection of dresses, not entirely convinced, when you found it. You instantly knew it was the right one.

You stared longingly at the beautiful wine-red dress, made entirely of velvet. The bodice was cut on the bias, the fabric draping itself elegantly to contour the shape of the model’s upper body. The skirt was long and flowing, and the waist was cinched in with a thin black belt.

You clicked on the second picture and Natasha let out a strangled gasp. The open back was draped at the waist and weighted with a crystal on a golden chain.

The dress gave off 1930s vibes, it was elegant and refined but the back was daring and sexy. It was exactly what you needed. You paired it with a black wool cape, and Natasha offered to let you borrow a pair of shoes, jewellery and a bag.

The dress and coat arrived the next day. The woman who delivered them was kind and polite, she stayed in the kitchen while you tried on the dress. Once you gave the all-clear, she handed you your receipt.

The dress was yours for an entire week.

On the day of the gala, you were a nervous, sweaty mess. Natasha’s clutch was on your nightstand, filled to the brim with business cards. Your hair and makeup were already done. You sat on your bed in your underwear, staring at the dress hanging in your closet.

“I can do this,” you whispered to yourself.

You were adjusting the fabric around your cleavage, making sure everything flowed nicely, when you heard Bucky shouting from the kitchen.

“The car will be there in fifteen minutes.”

You took a deep breath and smoothed your hands down the sides of your dress, the tickling caress of the velvet calming you almost instantly. You reached for the handle, your heart hammering in your chest, and opened the door.

Bucky was standing at the kitchen island, looking down at his phone. He looked up when he heard the sound of your door opening.

“Hey, are you-” The rest of his sentence died on his lips as he froze. He stood there, staring at you, his eyes roaming your body in a manner that could only be called amazement. “You look-” He shook his head as if he couldn’t find the right word.

You looked down at yourself, grinning. After weeks of seeing you in your big woolly jumpers, pyjamas and painting overalls, you could understand why this was a shock. It was one to you as well.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice sounding strangled.

“Thank you.” He stood a little straighter when he noticed you were checking him out. He wore a dark blue suit with black lapels, a white shirt and a black velvet bow tie. You matched. “You look like a real heartthrob in that suit.”

He laughed and looked away, embarrassed. It was your favourite look on him; when he couldn’t maintain eye contact and his cheeks were slightly red and his nose crunched up a little.

“You’re wearing your prosthetic,” you said, noticing the stiff arm and fake hand.

“Yeah,” he replied, looking at his left arm. “This thing itches like hell, but I don’t blend well in a crowd when I’m not wearing my prosthetic. These people know me, they’ll be looking for me. Let’s not make it too easy for them.”

He finished his sentence with a wink and your entire body threatened to spontaneously combust. Do people still wink? Apparently. You walked over to him and briefly stroked his arm before you walked past him to the bathroom.

It gave him a great view of your bare back and the little crystal nestled just above the small of your back. You didn’t see his reaction but you heard his sharp intake of breath.

You left the bathroom door open while you rummaged through your makeup bag, relief flowing through you when your fingers brushed against your favourite lipstick.

You straightened up and looked at yourself in the mirror. Bucky was leaning against the bathroom door frame, observing you. You uncapped the lipstick and brought it to your lips, locking eyes with him in the mirror.

“Don’t worry, I’m almost ready.”

“I’m not worried,” Bucky replied with a mischievous smile. “Please, carry on.”

You rolled your eyes at his sudden smug expression, trying to look unbothered, but you could feel his eyes on you and you willed your hands to stop shaking. Today was not the day to look like Miranda Sings.

“What’s it called?” Bucky asked from the threshold, spellbound.

“No idea, the label has faded,” you said, rubbing your lips together to smudge your lipstick. “It has probably expired by now, my mom gave it to me when I was a kid.” You blotted your lips and tossed the balled tissue into the wastebasket. “She called it ‘Carter Red’.”

You dabbed the lipstick on your lips. “When we were kids, we used to watch her apply her lipstick. We thought she was the most sophisticated woman in the world. When she was done, she’d turn to us and ask ‘Who wants red lips?’ Then we’d leave the house in our matching red lips.”

Bucky entered the bathroom and took a seat on the edge of the tub. “Did your brothers wear red lipstick too?” he asked with a grin.

You laughed. “Pietro did. Scott was more into nail polish.”

“Do you think I can pull it off?”

You turned to him with a wicked grin and waved your lipstick in his direction. He stood when you took a step closer to him. He seemed to enjoy the playful glint dancing in your eyes. You beckoned him closer like some kind of old witch.

“I’m sure you’d look real cute with lipstick all over your face,” you said, taunting him with your tube of lipstick.

Something in his expression changed, darkened, making you feel hot and cold at the same time. His eyes travelled down your face to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “Yeah, I’d really like that,” he spoke so softly you almost missed it.

It was your turn to freeze. You parted your lips to speak but nothing came out, you just blinked hard and stared at him incredulously, waiting for him to explain what that meant. But he never did, and you took a step back.

Did he just...? Did he just try to kiss you? No! No, that’s silly. Why would he want to kiss you? He was just being playful and you simply projected your own desires onto him.

He took a step back too and gave an imperceptible nod. “The car should be here any minute,” he said, smiling. It was a tight smile and you didn’t like it at all. “I’ll let you get ready.”

After he closed the door behind him, you dumped your lipstick back into your makeup bag and took a long look at yourself in the mirror. You looked deflated, miserable. You sighed... the night was off to a great start.

Bucky waited for you while you finished getting ready. You picked up your clutch, slid your feet into a pair of high-heel shoes, and struggled with your cape until Bucky came to your rescue. To your surprise, his smile was genuine again, and it made your heart soar. Maybe you had just misread the situation and he wasn’t upset, offended –or whatever that tight smile was.

The heels were higher than you were used to, but Bucky gave you an arm to hang onto. The sky was already dark when you arrived at the Museum of Natural History. You walked up the stairs and left your coats in the coat-check room before you took a look around the room.

Hundreds of people were milling around the hall, a glass in their hand as they weaved between the jaw-dropping dinosaur skeletons that were on display. You kept your arm linked through Bucky’s and tried not to stare at anyone.

“Be careful,” Bucky whispered in your ear, making you perk up. “Someone once told me that the exhibits come to life after the sun sets.”

“Remind me to stay away from the Biodiversity Hall,” you chuckled. Then you spotted one of the curators you wanted to work with, you let go of Bucky’s arm and squared your shoulders. “Showtime. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, angel.”

“God, I’m sweating. Is it noticeable?”

Bucky smiled at you. “No, you look perfect.”

You gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I hope I won’t make a fool of myself. I hate small talk.”

As soon as you were gone, someone took your place by Bucky’s side. You grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and made your way over to the curator. You didn’t drink alcohol but the glass made you look like you were part of their little group.

It went horribly wrong; you stuttered when you said your name and everything went downhill after that. While you were talking, he subtly looked around to see if he could find a more interesting person to talk to, which made you stutter even more. Then as you opened your clutch and fished out a card, several others fell at your feet in slow motion.

Between the dress, the glass and the shoes, it was practically impossible to bend over. The curator left and you stood there alone.

“Let me help you,” one of the waiters said. He gathered up your business cards and handed them to you.

You sheepishly took the cards and shoved them back in your purse. “Thanks. Can you take this? I’m not going to drink it.”

“Would you like something else to drink?” he asked as he took your glass of champagne.

“No, thank you. I... I think I’m going to go find my friend.”

You smiled politely at the young man but he had a strange look on his face. He looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated.

“I saw you with Mr. Thomas,” he finally said. “I’m not supposed to talk to the guests but can you tell him I love his work.”

“I’m sorry I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Grant Thomas,” the waiter pressed on. “The writer. I saw you two together.” Then he leaned forward and whispered, “He only has one arm.”

Oh...

Grant Thomas was Bucky’s pen name.

Your face broke out into a huge smile and you started giggling to yourself. The waiter recoiled a bit, confused and a little freaked out. You scanned the room for Bucky.

“Of course, I’ll tell him,” you told the waiter. “He’ll be very pleased to hear it.”

You went in search of Bucky, wobbling around in your high heels, a permanent smile on your face. After walking around for a few minutes, you felt more stable and in control, even going so far as to power walk from room to room.

You found him in the Hall of Ocean Life, entertaining a small group of people. You walked over to him, your heels clicking like typewriter keys. You heard bits and pieces of their conversation as you approached.

“Oh, it’s absolutely lovely,” a woman cooed, a hand over her heart. “Who was your inspiration for your new book, Grant?”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly when he saw you. You gave him a small wave and he held out his hand in your direction. He introduced you to the group, and while it was strange to hear him say your name, you kept a straight face.

“I’ve looked everywhere for you, Grant,” you told him, emphasizing his pen name. “I should have known I'd find you in good company.”

“Oh, she’s the painter,” the woman said. “Darling, I hope you don’t mind me saying this but-” she extended her arms in your direction “wow!”

The woman next to her looked half amused, half exasperated. “It means you look beautiful in that dress.”

“Oh, she knows what it means, Sylvia.” The ‘oh’ woman swatted Bucky’s fake arm. “Grant, isn’t she gorgeous?”

Bucky looked at you with a fond smile. “Yes, she is.”

“Oh, my heart is about to explode,” the ‘oh’ woman squealed before enthusiastically waving to someone behind Bucky. “Sylvia, darling, take her contact details. We need new blood at the gallery. Please, excuse me, I haven’t seen Michael in ages,” she said, stretching out the last word.

She was gone before you could comprehend what was happening. Her laughter echoed through the room. Oh, I hadn’t seen the back of that dress! Sweet baby Jesus!

You found her whimsical and quite intense but if you had to work for her, you’d probably end up looking like her assistant, Sylvia, who seemed at her wits’ end.

She sighed and opened her leather-bound notebook. There were several business cards attached to the pages with paperclips. You handed her one of your business cards as her boss shouted, Oh, Michael, isn’t this party deliiightful? It was Sylvia’s cue to leave.

“Thank you. We’ll take a look at your work and get back to you as soon as we can. Enjoy your night.”

Sylvia rushed to her boss who was looking around like a lost puppy. When she saw her assistant, a look of relief crossed her face. It was a little over the top but it made you smile.

“So, Grant Thomas,” you said, planting yourself directly in front of Bucky now that you were alone. “Cute name.”

“Agh, I wanted to tell you before the party but...” He shrugged. “How did you figure it out?”

“One of the waiters saw us together. He’s your biggest fan. Said you were talented, humble and devilishly handsome in that suit.”

“The waiter said that?” Bucky asked with a frown as he led you toward an empty corridor.

“I think he has a crush on you.”

“I seem to have that effect on people,” he said, linking his arm through yours.

“So humble.” You entered the Hall of Biodiversity together. “What’s the meaning behind your pen name?”

There was a small pause before he answered. “Grant is Steve’s middle name, Thomas is Sam’s. I wanted to honor them. Steve literally saved my life, and Sam... well, he stood by my side even when we barely knew each other.”

“I’m sure they were touched.”

“Meh,” Bucky said with a grimace. “Steve said it sounded like a fake name, and Sam tried to make me use ‘Thomas Grant’ instead. I think deep down they like it.” He turned his head to look at you. “How did it go with the curator?”

You cringed. “Just to give you an idea, imagine an amateur magician performing at their first show. I was sweating, I stuttered, and I dropped my cards. It was awful.”

He laughed softly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m not upset. At least he’ll remember me, right?”

You spent the next couple of hours mingling with a bunch of rich people; most of them were incredibly weird, the others were strangely relatable. You were a lot more cool and collected with Bucky by your side. He always had really nice things to say about you or your paintings, and his words rang true, giving you yet another reason to fall for him.

When you reached the planetarium, Bucky took your hand in his, his eyes sparkling with childlike wonder.

You practically had the place to yourselves, everyone else was either in the Grand Gallery or in the Roosevelt Memorial. Since no one was around, you decided to take your shoes off and walk around barefoot.

You lost track of time, listening to Bucky’s stories about the universe as he guided you along the spiralling walkway.

“We’re just tiny little specks living on a bigger speck, floating around,” he said, gazing up at a model of Jupiter hanging from the ceiling. “Our time here is so limited, our bodies are so fragile.”

“Umm,” you hummed. “At least we’re not at the bottom of the food chain.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that would be a bummer.”

“Do you know who’s at the bottom of the food chain?” you asked. “French fries. I’m starving.”

His laughter rang out, loud and clear, in the silence of the planetarium. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

You headed for the coat-check room, where Bucky left one of his ridiculously generous tips, and stepped outside, shivering from the cold winter night. You looked up at the stars glistening in the dark sky while you walked the short distance to the fast food restaurant.

You ate your fries in silence as you glanced around the restaurant. It was bright and gave off a friendly vibe. There were several other patrons even though it was almost two in the morning, though you and Bucky were the only ones wearing designer clothes.

Your high heels and clutch rested on the booth next to your hip, and Bucky’s bow tie was tied around your wrist. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a tanned, muscular chest and a smattering of dark hair.

Bucky had removed his prosthetic after you’d found a booth. His fake arm rested on the table, scaring the hell out of the waitress when she came to take your order. Bucky apologized profusely, probably mentally adding another twenty to her tip.

You dozed off in the cab, utterly exhausted, your cheek resting against his shoulder. His arm was draped over your shoulders, his thumb sweeping up and down your collarbone. When you remembered that you still had to remove your makeup before going to bed, you let out a whine and nestled closer to him. He rested his head on top of yours, and you closed your eyes, enjoying his closeness.

A few days later, you told Natasha about the party, and she reminded you to be careful, to protect your heart. She wished someone had given her this advice when she’d met Sam.

It had never occurred to you that Natasha might have feelings for Sam, not because he was an awful person. No, it was quite the opposite. He was handsome and funny, always looking for some kind of trouble. She’d mentioned multiple times that he was really good in bed, which honestly didn’t surprise you.

You knew she liked him, but you didn’t know she liked him.

On your way home, you mulled over the things she had told you. About a block away from your apartment, you took your keys out of your pocket and stared at the little angel keychain, wondering if your feelings for Bucky were real. The line between friends and lovers was definitely blurred but you couldn’t cross it. There was too much at stake, you couldn’t risk ruining your friendship.

As you turned the corner into your street, you spotted someone standing outside the building’s front door. You slowed down, dawdled, so you could observe them.

You couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, though you suspected a man. They were carrying a traveller’s backpack on their shoulders, blocking your view. Whoever it was, they had a fantastic ass.

They pushed the intercom button, waited a few seconds and pushed it again. When the doors remained closed, they turned around to leave and you came face-to-face with a man with long dirty blond hair, a bushy ginger beard and striking baby blue eyes. You immediately recognized him from the photos you’d seen on Bucky’s laptop.

“Oh my God, Steve!” you exclaimed, startling him.

Part 8

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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woozisnoots · 4 years

Text

modest jeon wonwoo

° pairing: wonwoo x reader ° genre: university!au, host club!au, fluff ° word count: ~1.7k ° warnings: none! ° a/n: this had no business being this long and idek if i like it lol but I want to specifically dedicate this piece to @wonwoosimp bc she’s literally the sweetest, best bean in the world [insert uwu meme here] thank you for gifting me my very first photocard, I literally cried opening it! I love you so much, I hope you enjoy!

welcome to the svt host club!

masterlist!

you entered university with a certain goal, a purpose. eventually, you were going to be the pediatric surgeon that the 13 year old you ushered you to be.

…let's just hope the knowledge of your brain was enough to get you through the first four years of pre-med. with your 3.7 high school GPA, you were lucky to get into your first choice college, let alone your current major

from the start of the semester, you dedicated yourself to studying the anatomy and physiology of the body until you knew every nook and cranny there was to know. and the library was the perfect sanctuary to get your shit together

as much as you loved your roommates, their constant fights over closet space and boy toys gave you no peace of mind what-so-ever

bless the library for being opened 24/7. If your roommates found you sleeping on their only working desk, you would find yourself waking up to the sound of tripping freshmen trying to get to their first 8am class right in the middle of the hallway

but the lone table in the corner of the library just on the third floor did you good at staying focused. even provided some good naps in between every now and then

the day before your first anatomy test, you LOCKED yourself in the library. no one was going in OR OUT of the premise just to sit across from you on YOUR table until you fully memorized the different layers of epithelial tissue >:(

gosh, you even scattered all your notes across the table just so people got the memo that this seat was: [OFF LIMITS]

yes, off limits to everyone except a certain jeon wonwoo.

the way you met was abrupt to say the least

besides your table, you had a pretty good view of the entire campus — from the main health science building all the way to the student parking lot

and just below you, an astonishing sight of a mob of screaming girls chasing after a mouse guy in glasses. not to be inconsiderate and heartless, but unless you heard someone scream bloody murder, diving back into your flashcard you go

tissue after tissue, you start to get delusional because at this point, everything is starting to look the same

slumping down into your chair, you take a second to mentally recharge, drinking the water you’ve neglected for the past three hours

you time yourself for a five minute break, going through the notifications on your phone

before you could read your roommate’s ongoing ramble on the latest update of the “crazy good looking, god-like, elite host club that the university has to offer”

a ‘club’ that you didn’t even know anything about nor cared for

you hear a loud ‘thud’ coming from the bookcase in front of you

from the side the tall, lean guy with glasses that you saw earlier emerged with his hands gripping his tricep

you try not to draw too much attention to him. half the reason being you didn’t want to embarrass him by laughing at the fact he ran into a 10 feet tall bookcase

and you did not need this man distracting you. it’s your eight week streak being this productive, a new record for anything you’ve done in your entire life and your pride wouldn’t let you have it if you lost it just because you saw an attractive man on sight

you scribble down a decent guess to the tissue identification question that you’ve been stuck on for the past few minutes, not bothering to look up

“that’s actually dense connective tissue, not smooth”

jolting up from your seat, you look up realizing the guy 5 feet away is now right in front of your face looking down at all your papers

“you can tell because they’re striated”

you stare at him in disbelief wondering how he could have gotten so fast with just looking at it for a few seconds. eyeing him up and down, he definitely looked around the same age as you but he wasn’t someone you’ve seen around the science buildings. and you would know since you took the liberty of familiarizing almost everyone within the department

“do you mind if i sit here?” his hands already on the edge of the chair ready to pull it out from underneath him

“...yeah sure”

“oh i’m wonwoo by the way,” he says as you both exchange awkward stares and knowledgeable nods

okay well since he’s proven that he might be of help to you, you might as let him stay. from what you’ve gathered, he didn’t have any stuff on him aside from his phone that you watch him get out of his front pocket, getting ready to play pacman

forget how attractive he is, this guy has some brains.

for the rest of the day, as you guys sat across from each other, wonwoo would occasionally bounce back and forth between giving you study tips and playing whatever game he decides to play at that moment in time

he was surprisingly really good at this? he knew more things about the subject than your professors did, and that’s saying a lot. like you’ve been looking at cells for WEEKS and you were lucky to get at least half of them. which begs the question:

“how do you magically know all this?”

the blank expression on his face tells you he wasn’t expecting that question but he quickly shrugs it off. “i just know a few things from my parents that’s all”

you would have questioned him further but the time on your phone read “22:57” and you already broke your number rule about sleeping early before a big test

as you pack up all your stuff, wonwoo pushes his chair in, bidding you farewell

“good luck on your test tomorrow!”

you appreciate the gesture, mentally thanking him for his help and proceed to go back to your dorms, preparing yourself to tell your roommate all about the exciting? day you had

“YOU MORON. JEON WONWOO?”

laying flat on your back on your bed, you cover the bottom half of your face, quivering under your sheets as you stare at your roommate’s outrageous outburst

you explain what happened and who you met today at the library. when your roommate asked to describe him in more detail, all you said was that he was pretty smart for someone who wasn’t particularly in your major

your roommate lets out a loud scream into their pillow, gripping the bed sheets before giving you the earful of the century

“he’s just being modest. he’s a korean lit major but he’s one of the uni’s top students since both his parents are the head of the science department.

…AND he’s one of the most requested host club members. so you caught yourself one big fish today bud.”

top student? science department? HOST CLUB? none of that was processing in your brain. the one club that you wanted nothing to do with and you just happened to meet their top money maker

grand.

the thought didn’t keep you up at night only because you thought that today’s encounter was just coincidence and you probably would never have to see him again.

(sad though, your roommate was right. he is rather good looking.)

the time that it took for you to take your test the next day flew by so fast that you questioned if it even happened. the first step you took out the classroom, you start to second guess all your answers, regretting that you didn’t check a third or even fourth time before submitting

your train of thought halts when you see jeon wonwoo standing in the empty hallway

“i’m sure you aced it”

and just like in a netflix original romance movie, he reveals a bouquet of pink begonias from behind his back while shyly adjusting his glasses

“these are for you. to congratulate you”

weird way to phrase it but you were still gonna take the flowers. “host club tendencies?”

“so you found out?”

from a distance, you can hear the rushing footsteps from downstairs followed by a sense of purpose. “i think i was bound to” :/

you didn’t know how you felt about the current situation. you had no idea what host club was until you got here and you still don’t know what they even do. for all you knew, this could just be a gesture to get them more clients

but if his actions were genuine… you wouldn’t mind seeing him again

“i have to start learning muscles for our next exam. heard it was one of the hardest ones. i’m not sure if you have more studying tricks up your sleeve?”

“i might.” a cocking little grin now appearing on his face

“good. same place at the library tomorrow then. and this time? try not to bring your dedicated fans wherever you go”

so these study sessions continued. you guys occasionally had to change spots - from cafe to an empty bio lab - if the mob ever saw a single hair follicle that might be his

but each time, wonwoo brought something more just himself. one day it would be coffee, others days it would be food. things to keep you motivated.

for a korean lit major, he was taking a lot of time out of his day to help you, being attentive to all the strategies that help you study and such

possibly making your assumption from months back, true.

by the time finals rolled around, aside from the spursts of review here and there, study sessions became more casual. you didn’t feel the need to overwork our brain since you already knew all the information (something you actually learned from wonwoo himself)

possibly the last meeting you’d have with him was similar to your first: just you two together but him playing on his phone. and yet before the night ended

“i have a proposal.”

“i’m not giving you money for your dumb club.” bold of him to assume you would-

“no but i really appreciate the thought :)

why don’t we turn these study sessions into… study dates instead?”

your assumption after 6 months later: finally confirmed

“but that’s only IF you ace your finals.”

well let’s just say at the very end, you had a successful first semester and are now one step closer towards being the surgeon of your dreams.

plus, you even landed yourself a pretty cool boyfriend in the process

let’s hope his parents put in a good word for you when you apply to med school!

#seventeen #wonwoo #caratwritersclub #seventeen imagine #wonwoo imagine #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #seventeen au #wonwoo au #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen series #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader

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iampikachuhearmeroar · 3 years

Text

y’know the wildest thing still to happen to me on this hellsite was my first experience of sexting, sans nudes, that was done in front of at least 250-500 followers because of those horny anons i had in early 2013 when i was 17. instead of being exposed to it on my phone privately with a partner at that age, it was done publicly for the internet to see lmao. i remember begging the anons to stop and “come off anon” because i was “losing followers” at the time too bc i was so insecure about my follower count lmao. and then yeah when they came off anon they were both 28 years old.

to write the responses, i just consulted cosmo mag sex pages for ideas hoping that the anons would like the options i chose. in one i detailed doing anal- a sex act i hadn’t even done yet irl- let alone every other thing i suggested in them (head, idek long, drawn out foreplay, some stupid fancy sex moves that cosmo was all like “use these moves to spice up your sex life 🔥🔥”, sex in a bath, i’m pretty sure i had some lines about tying or handcuffing them to a bed (????) etc etc etc)….

when again, i had never even done any of those above sex acts in real life. i was a naive teen who was incredibly shy in regards towards her love life because she’d “never been kissed” and had never had the “hot emo boyfriend whose in a band and is covered in tattoos” she’d always wanted, let alone even a boyfriend that she had actually fucking liked (ie clear braces boy, for like a month in year 9/2010 vs the popular boys that made fun of her, that she always had unrequited crushes on)…. hell, my blog title when i first started on here in 2011 was “the perfect epitome of being forever alone” because of these very reasons. but here she was, writing explicit sex acts to strangers like she knew what the fuck she was doing, to an audience of 250-500 people- and then to fucking grown ass men in inboxes. i was just parroting the shit i’d read in cosmo (both sex advice and sometimes excerpts of erotica/“sexy, steamy reads” they had some months) and also heard repeatedly in the porn that my high school stalker/creeper at public school loved to show (harass) me with to flirt with me, whenever we were alone together at school in 2012/2013.

like you could tell how naive i was….. because i used ridiculous lines like “like a gentleman entranced, you lead me to the bath for our next foray” and dumbass prose-y things like that. because what the fuck does that even mean 😂😅????

and this is why i think minors should be careful with their online experiences. like yeah, you could say that i wasn’t a minor anymore- more of a “young adult”- who should of made the smart decision to not engage with these anons. but i was a kid. i thought it was fun. and when the dudes came off anon, i thought to myself “it’s not like i’m ever gonna meet them if i ever go to the US or puerto rico at any point. it’s not like that they’ll ever recognise me in person or ever reach out to me again in the future. i might as well do it.” and i did eventually end up ignoring the guys in my inbox, due to my mental health kinda plummeting from the middle til the end of 2013 because of my end of high school exams and stuff… and also the puerto rican guy’s infamously inappropriate “hot PE teacher fucks HOT female high school student in the girls change room showers” fantasy which fucking disgusted me, when he full well knew that i was STILL IN high school.

and obviously again, there’s the point about using the “block” button function. but as i’ve stated several times over my years on here, back in my early days of tumblr, i never wanted to block or unfollow people (even if they were trash like these two men), because it seemed so “mean” and “final”. obvs now i have no qualms about blocking people, and actively encourage younger people on here to use the block button with reckless abandon towards creepy people or people who can hurt them in some way. but to high school teenage me, the whole “using the block button” thing seemed to go against me being a “nice girl/person” so i never used it, no matter which social media platform i was on.

this is why i’m hella scared for young teen girls on tik tok wanting to have onlyfans accounts: because it’s where they’ll be exposed to ACTUAL CREEPS AND PREDATORS incredibly quickly; all because they can make money off selling images of just their feet or eventually their body….. depending on what these creepy strangers demand from them….. and they’ll feel like they’ll have to do it…. but to do it before you even start experimenting properly with relationships and sex is even worse. like. yeah. i’ve admitted before that i originally started this tumblr to possibly post nudes, to see if i’d get the positive feedback that i so desperately wanted/craved from the boys in my year at catholic school- eg. to be called “sexy”, “hot”, “fuckable” possibly “beautiful”- like some of the so called “popular girls” got on their hella basic bikini photos back then (like i remember one girl i knew ended up with like 500 likes and a fair amount of comments on one of her bikini pics and i was INCREDIBLY BITTER because not even a pic of me with a nice outfit on, my hair done and makeup on could EVER get those numbers, let alone even break over the double digits).

but i decided posting nudes or other explicit images on here was an absolute no go, because i realised that i never wanted people that i knew digging up barely clothed/naked pics of me and sending them to me all like “hey, is this you?” and then possibly mocking me, all because i would’ve been dumb enough to put my face in them probably at the time. now when i take nudes and send them, i never show my face. because i know now, that even in relationships, your partner can use nude pics as leverage for arguments or to abuse you in such a way that they’ll upload your pics without your knowledge to god knows where on the internet probably as a way to get back at you in a horrible breakup.

this is what i sincerely hope some young girls who ever contemplate starting onlyfans accounts take some time SERIOUSLY CONSIDER. please know that if you share shit on onlyfans, it can shared and re-shared (i think idek how OF works tbh) to god knows who- and eventually end up in the hands of people you know. i don’t fucking care if it’s a “good way to make money!” or if people think that im trying to stop teen girls from being “girl bosses” and the other dumb as fuck internet memes you want to throw at me. because this shit isn’t “haha internet meme funny” material. it’s some fucking serious stuff. and also, i’m not saying “don’t become a sex worker when you’re older” or whatever either. you’re free to make that choice when you’re in your 20s (no i even mean 17-19 year olds in this post as “young teen girls”- sorry you’re basically kids to me at almost 26). just please consider where the fuck your stuff can be shared to. who it can end up being shared with or to.

this is why i was so fucking adamant with my infamous old follower mr adelaide fuckboy/MAF that i personally would NOT consider becoming a camgirl for him or just generally… because i had no idea where the fuck my images or videos would end up. and do you know the places i’d never want them to fucking be??? in the hands of my high school stalker/creeper. in the hands of those two 28yo men from 2013 (who’d now be in there late 30s or early 40s). i absolutely don’t want them in the hands the mid-to-late 20s and early 30s men that that girl i met at public school in 2012 who was pissed that i didn’t believe that were “adults” because we were finally over the legal age of consent (16) in our state of australia, and so we were apparently fine to “fuck” literal grown ass men because “just fuck them and they’ll be nice to you!!” which i knew was fucking bullshit.

i absolutely don’t fucking want explicit videos/images of me ending up in “why the fuck won’t you let me give you “sex lessons” in the back of my car as a “favour” and as payment for teaching you how to drive you stupid, stuck up & frigid, virgin bitch!?” guy’s hands from 2014 (when i was 18/19 at the time and he was 25… he ended up being the first person of many i’d EVER block on social media lol). or i don't want them in the hands of those weird early 20s dudes (one of which was trying to set me up with his friend) who hit on me at 16/17 (2012) who were angry that i didn’t like and watch porn as much as they did…. and who promptly asked me at the end of their period of harassing of me: “do you know any sluts we could add?” because i kept refusing their suggestions etc.

hell, quite frankly i don’t even want them to go to mr adelaide fuckboy/MAF either, but the very few and far between nudes that i sent on snapchat to him back in 2016 are some nudes that i’d rather forget lmao. hell. i don’t even know if MAF ever deleted my nudes or shared them somewhere else or not, after he fucking wheedled them out of me with “i’ve followed you for 4 years, don’t be a shit! you owe me nudes!” so he’d just shut the fuck up about my social life decisions and leave me the fuck alone.

i don’t want ANY ONE of the guys i mentioned above to get their hands on photos of minors either…. because i definitely know my hs stalker/creeper would… because his fave “make her jealous” tactic that he’s always used on me is that “hey…. i’m dating a *insert teenage girl’s age here*! be fucking jealous that you don’t fucking have me and feel guilty that you won’t fuck me like this girl does!!!” just like he did in 2015, when i ran into him on the home from uni… when i turned 20 the next week and he turned 20 that december. at that time it was a 14yo girl he used as an example of him “dating”/“fucking” to make me jealous. instead, i was completely and utterly fucking disgusted. like any fucking sane and normal human being would/should be at that horrible age gap. that is literally a fucking child that he was fucking grooming. and we were literal adults. back the fuck away.

just please. PLEASE CONSIDER the types of people that trawl these kinds of sites and their intentions. please consider that you are young. very fucking young. you literally DO NOT need to upload nudes to the internet because it’s apparently a “lucrative” business. fuck the jokey “boss babe” rhetoric around it all the way to fucking hell.

because if you’re a minor: i do not want you to have your first experience of sexting or sending explicit images literally in front of god knows how many total strangers for the whole world to see (okay i know only fans is like subscriber/follower based or whatever. but i don’t care)…… even when you (depending how good you are with relationships etc) haven’t reached the common supposed milestones of your “first boyfriend/girlfriend/partner” or “first kiss” or have even “lost your virginity” (which isn’t real anyway- don’t buy this fucking bullshit)…. just like i stupidly did with my exposure to sexting here on my tumblr back in 2013. these people don’t/won’t give a flying fuck about your privacy or safety. they don’t/won’t give a fuck about your boundaries either.

please don’t possibly scar yourself for life, just because you’re being told that it’s a quick & convenient way to make some money for weirdos on the depths of the internet. you will regret it in future. just like i do now with mine. it should’ve been something personal between me and and a guy i trusted and liked at the time. not to some random 250-500 random strangers on this hellsite (okay the notes on these posts were literally single digits or non-existent, but still… and also some of my irl friends who had tumblr saw these posts as well) for a show….. and then privately with two 28yo literal grown ass men…. who should’ve been fucking hitting on women their own goddamned age and in their own countries and NOT a 17yo high school KID (at the time) from australia; who, now in her 20s, needs therapy to sort this shit out lmao. mind you they both reeled me in with the “you’re so mature for your age” bullshit line…. which i fell for a little bit, even if it did make me feel kinda gross at the time, too. don’t fall for that bullshit either.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #relationships i guess #internet stuff #this went in a bigger direction that i thought it would lmao #but anyway

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hamiltonimagines · 4 years

Text

Today Is Not My Day

Pairing: Lin x Reader

Request: Combination of three requests

“alright, thanks! could i request a LMM angsty but ending kinda fluffy one where mc is his ex and they haven't spoken in a while. they get stuck somewhere together and end up talking things out and he asks her out at the end? idek if that makes sense but yea” - @notebookgirl30

“Can I get LMM and reader stuck in an elevator?” - @ousi-chan

“could you do one with Lin with just a bunch of angst and fluff? i wanta cry” - @rileygene11

Word Count: 1.2k

“Excuse me...I’m sorry...excuse me” I said, as I rushed through the lobby of the office building. I was running late for a very important presentation for work. My car had broken down on the way to work, which had caused me to be very late. I had been working on this presentation for weeks and I couldn’t afford to miss this meeting.

I was running through the lobby, which seemed to be ten times busier than usual. I ran up to the elevator and it was starting to close. “Wait, hold the elevator” I called out. I saw a hand from inside the elevator reach out and stop the doors.

I quickly squeezed through the doors and sighed once I made it in. Then I looked up to see who had stopped the door and I saw Lin. Lin and I had broken up about a year ago and we hadn’t seen each other since.

“Y/N” he said, breathlessly. “Lin...hi” I said, just as shocked. Lin and I’s breakup had not been easy to say the least. We had been drifting apart because of our busy schedules. I asked him if we could have monthly dinner dates. He had told me that that was too large of a commitment to make. Then I told him we couldn’t be together if he couldn’t make a simple commitment to me. He hadn’t reached out to me and never tried to apologize or make amends.

“So how have you been?” Lin asked, trying to fill the awkward silence with some form of polite conversation. “Listen, you don’t have to pretend like you care. It’s been a year and you never reached out to me, you clearly don’t care how I’m doing” I argued. I wasn’t just going to act like everything was fine.

“I always cared Y/N” Lin said, trying to grab my hand. I pulled my hand away from him and took a step backwards. “We can sit here in silence and when the elevator opens, we will go our separate ways and you can go back to not having to feel burdened by caring about me” I told him.

“Y/N, that’s not fair. Please let me explain” he begged. I didn’t say anything and I wouldn’t even look him in the eye. I crossed my arms and stared blankly at the wall.

The elevator ride felt like it was taking longer than it should of. Maybe it was just in my head because I wanted to get out of this elevator as soon as possible. Then the elevator stopped completely. I figured someone on a different floor had pressed the button, but the doors didn’t open. The elevator just stayed stuck.

I cursed under my breath. “Of course you’re the person that I get stuck in an elevator with. Today is not my day” I groaned, under my breath. “I could think of worse people to be stuck with” Lin said, giving me a hopeful glance.

“I’m still not talking to you” I said, blatantly. I pulled out my notecards for my presentation and started going over them. If I was going to be stuck in an elevator, the least I could do is use the time wisely.

I began pacing in a circle as I read through my note cards. I saw Lin smirk at me and then he sat on the floor.

About ten minutes had gone by and the elevator still wasn’t moving. I was starting to freak out. What if no one ever found us?

I put my notecards back in my pocket and huffed. I took off my blazer jacket and sat down on the floor. “Do you think they know we’re stuck here?” I asked, trying to not sound too worried.

“Of course, they're doing everything they can to get us unstuck. I promise, it’ll be fine” he said, calmly. I hated that after everything we had been through, he still knew all my quirks and knew exactly how to reassure me.

I breathed a sigh of relief and leaned my head against the elevator wall behind me. “I just want you to know that I am really sorry about how things ended” Lin said, hesitantly like he was unsure of how I would react.

“Lin, I don’t want to talk to you about it. Nothing that I have to say to you is nice, so I’m going to keep my mouth shut.” I said, stubbornly. “Well fine, I’ll talk. I just need you to listen” he said.

“I know that how I treated you was wrong. But I’ve learned and I’ve missed you. I just hope that eventually you can forgive me” Lin said. “You can’t just say you’re sorry and expect me to forgive you. You basically told me that I wasn’t worth your time and you had more important things to worry about. How am I supposed to believe that you’ve actually changed and you’re actually sorry?” I asked him.

“Because I’m giving you my word” Lin said. “When we started dating, you gave me your word that you would always make time for me. So we can see how much your word means” I argued.

“Listen, Y/N. I understand that you’re angry, you have every right to be. What I did to you was cruel and it went against every promise I ever made you. I promised to love you and I failed. I promised to respect you and I failed. But it’s been over a year. I’ve realized how wrong it was. I want to make amends. It’s not like we broke up and I never thought about you again. I still get excited every time I hear your name. And I miss you so much when I hear our song on the radio. I still daydream about spending the rest of my life with you” He said, and I could tell everything he said was genuine.

I didn’t know what to say. He had just poured his heart out to me, what was I supposed to say. “Is that all true?” I asked, still in disbelief. “Every single word” he said, carefully placing his hand on top of mine. I interlaced our fingers and I saw him smile.

“Look at that, this feels so natural. Just like old times” I said, under my breath. “Can I please have a second chance? I promise, I’ll prove to you how much I’ve changed” Lin said. “I guess everyone deserves a second chance” I said, smiling.

I saw the smile on Lin’s grow ten times bigger. Just then, the elevator started to move again.

Both of our eyes lit up. “Wasn’t that perfect timing?” Lin joked. “Yeah I guess so” I said as Lin stood up. He held out his hand and helped me stand up. “So how about after your presentation, I take you out to lunch and we catch up?” Lin asked me. “I would really like that” I said, smiling at him.

Then the doors opened and we saw two firefighters and mechanic. “Thank you guys” Lin said, thanking them. We walked away from the elevator and stopped to face each other. “Go do your presentation! You are going to kill it, good luck!” Lin said, kissing my cheek.

taglist: @someinsanefangirl @laurens-interlude @geekycatlover @fanfic-addict-98 @romanoffs-heart @multifandomwriterx @andreasworlsboring101 @criminallyhamilton @imatyoursurrvicesurr @irlydontknoanymore @sayweird99 @nyxie75 @rileygene11 @daveeds-whore @trost-town @notebookgirl30 @teenag1jealousy @royalstans @elizasfaith @kmsmedine

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines!!

#lin manuel miranda x reader #lin manuel miranda #lin manuel miranda fanfiction #lin manuel miranda imagines #lin manuel miranda imagine #hamilton #hamilton cast imagines #hamilton cast #hamilton cast x reader #hamilton cast imagine #hamilton imagine #hamilton imagines #hamilton x reader #lin imagine #lin imagines #lin x reader #lin manuel miranda ex

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massivelycreepypineapple · 4 years

Text

Desperate Measures

Request: hey i love your works. i have a super weird request. what if there is one time where dean gets drunk and hooks up with this random woman while being in a relationship with reader. the reader finally knows about it but she only thought that dean kissed that woman. they were fighting in the impala, and dean finally slipped it out and so they fight even more. the reader becomes sad and doesnt leave her bed for weeks n sam becomes worried but the reader doesn't want to meet anyone so sam and dean hide in her room to see what she does at night and all they see is the reader crying. she eventually has a panic attack and calls her hunter friends and so they sneak in through a window...? idek man its up to you for the ending.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

A/N: God writing about Dean cheating really broke my heart! But I hope this is okay, Anon! I’m sorry if it’s not what you expected.

Word Count: 2755

❅ ❅ ❅

Dean had reached a point in his life that he had to drink a ton to get properly wasted. A struggle he found himself with one night at the library. He was running out of liquor and he was at most barely drunk. Which wasn’t enough to hide the pain, the shame and the guilt spreading through him like wildfire. It didn’t help that Sam refused to look at him and his girlfriend of three years refused to answer his calls saying she needed time away from him.

He finished what little was left of the whiskey suddenly getting up and smashing the bottle against the wall. He was breathing heavily and his legs felt wobbly. He shut his eyes trying not to think about the pain he inflicted on his girl. Maybe she wasn’t even that anymore. But the memories forced themselves upon him, making him relive every piece of shit thing he had done and said to her two weeks ago.

-flashback-

“Y/N! I’m so so sorry! It was a mistake that never should’ve happened!” Dean begged her as he followed her out of the bar.

“Save it you fucking dick.” She snapped at him and got into the Impala.

Dean stood outside her door for a few seconds trying not to panic. The way her words sounded pierced through his heart. Never had she used that tone with him. He took a couple of seconds and then made his way to the driver’s side and got in. He gripped the wheels tight, He was angry and upset and scared.

“Take me home.” Y/N said icily. “And I mean my home. Not the bunker.”

Y/N had her own house, a small little cabin on the outskirts that the three often frequented to get away for a bit.

Dean didn’t say anything or move.

“Take me home, Dean!” She yelled at him.

“Would you let me explain!” He roared back at her.

She gave him an incredulous look. “Explain?! Are fucking serious? You really think I want to hear what went through your stupid head that convinced you to hurt me?!”

She was tearing up. He hated that he did this to her. He hated that stupid whore in the bar who came up to him a week ago. He hated that he was so drunk, he just went with it. He hated that she was there again this time and said something in front of Y/N. He hated himself.

“I didn’t think, okay!” He yelled. “I was so far gone! The hunt fucked me up and I needed to drink. I didn’t even know what I was doing! I never should’ve gone home with her!”

Y/N froze beside him. She started at him wide eyes. Tears quickly making their way down her face. “Y-you had sex with her?” She whispered stunned.

Dean could almost hear her heart shatter. He didn’t know what to say. He stared back at her equally wide eyed.

“I t-thought you k-knew that?” He asked hesitantly.

Y/N just looked at him with the most broken look on her face. She looked down at her fingers for a while. The silence was deafening.

“Take me home.” She said suddenly no emotions in her voice.

“Y/N…”

“Take. Me. Home.” She said even more icily compared to the last time.

Dean knew not to argue with her. He knew he fucked up big time. He just wanted to take back the last one week. He drove her home and watched with a shattered look as she slammed the car door and went inside without looking back. He drove back to the bunker, a broken man.

-flashback end-

Sam walked into the library with some grocery bags. “What’s wrong with you, Dean?!” He snapped at him noticing the broken bottle. “Stop throwing glass around! It’s always me cleaning up your mess!” That stung dean. It was as if he meant it in more ways than one.

“Leave me alone, Sam.” His gruff voice slurred. “You’ve been doing it for weeks anyway.” He mumbled.

Dean didn’t say anything when Sam chewed him out when he first found out. He didn’t bother getting him to talk to him when Sam iced him out too. He knew Sam and Y/N were best friends. She was like a sister to him and he’d do anything to protect her. So he wasn’t surprised when he got punched in the face by Sam.

Dean sat down on the chair staring into space. He barely noticed Sam take a seat at the table.

“She won’t talk, she won’t answer my calls and she refuses to leave her room.” Sam said quietly.

“Why are you telling me this, Sammy?” Scoffed Dean.

“Because I’m worried about her. Because you want to and need to know. I’m beyond angry at you, Dean. But I also love you and care about you too. I-I know you made a mistake. I can see it eating you up more than anything.”

Dean chuckles humourlessly, “What do you want me to do, eh Sammy? She refuses to talk to me. The last thing she said and I quote ‘Leave me alone, I can’t stand to look at your face.’ And that was almost two weeks ago.”

He still remembered that conversation with Y/N.

-flashback-

Dean stepped onto Y/N’s porch and rang the bell. He hadn’t spoken to her in few days since he dropped her off here. Not that he didn’t try. He initially gave her space, but he needed to talk to her. He needed her to know just how sorry he was. But she refused to answer his calls. Which was why he was here desperate to see her.

The door creaked open a tad and Y/N’s messy head came into view. When she realised it was Dean she was about the close the door again but he stopped her.

“Please just let me talk, Y/N. I just need you to know how sorry I am. Please!” He begged her.

She looked down at the floor, a single tear slipped our her eyes. Dean’s heart broke at that. All he wanted was to keep her from feeling this pain. He wanted to travel back in time just so he could undo his mistake.

“Y/N…I love you so much. I hate that I did this to you. Please let me in, I just want to talk.”

“Leave me alone, Dean. I can’t stand to look at your face right now.” She said, her voice was horse from crying.

Dean wanted to cry right then, he deserved it. He deserved her hate, she deserved so much better than him. He was a piece of shit for doing this to her. He sighed and looked at his feet, his eyes getting blurry.

“Okay.” He whispered and turned. He flinched as the door slammed shut.

-flashback end-

“I’m really worried about her Dean. I went to see her on my way back and she didn’t even flinch or move from her bed. I don’t think she’s been eating either.” Said Sam with his puppy dog eyes.

Sam spent the last two weeks checking up on Y/N often. He even ended up spending more time at her cabin, away from his brother. But the last few days he was back at the bunker after realising that Dean had completely let himself go.

Dean looked at Sam, “I don’t know how to help, Sammy. I tried to make it right. Fuck, I’m still trying man. I think doing what she says will help, so I’m staying away.”

“I-I might have an idea.” Said Sam looking sheepish.

“What, idea?”

“It’s a little unconventional.”

“Just spit it out, Sam” Dean was exhausted and he’d do anything to make this right. He didn’t care how unconventional it was. Hell, their whole life was unconventional.

“We break into her house and see what she’s up to” He said unsure.

Dean chuckled, looking incredulous at the same time. “Who are you and what have you done to my brother?”

“I’m serious, Dean! She won’t talk to anyone, and it’s the only way to make sure she’s at least okay!”

“Sam! I’ve hurt her enough! The last thing she needs is me breaking in and ruining it more for her!” He glared at his brother, unable to believe that he would come up with such a ludicrous idea.

“And you say you care about her and want to make it better, huh?” Sam scoffed at him. “Dean, sitting here ain’t helping anyone! She’s all alone at her place man! You know deep down it’s the only way.”

Dean sighed and rubbed his face. He knew Sam was right. He clenched his jaws and looked at his brother who wouldn’t stop with the damn kicked puppy look.

“Fine. We’ll go tonight and make sure she’s fine.”

Sam clapped him on the back and left the room to put away the groceries.

_______________________________________________________________________

They broke into her house that night. They made their way to her bedroom and put their ear against the door to see if they could hear anything. When they heard nothing they slowly opened the bedroom door and saw the bed empty and the bathroom door shut with the light on. They looked at each other and shrugged. Dean figured that maybe if she was getting out of bed, it was a good sign.

They heard movement and like a bunch of idiots, the two of them darted behind the headboard where there was space between the wall and the bed, and crouched down, hidden from Y/N. They heard her make her way back to the bed. She was crying and it broke Dean’s heart.

Had she been crying all along? Was that all she was doing, hiding from the world? How badly did he break her? He hated himself even more then, knowing this is what he caused. He looked at Sam, who had his eyes shut, unable to listen to her cries. Dean wanted to smack Sam for making him do this. They were stuck there and all they could do was sit behind her bed and listen to Y/N cry. He couldn’t take it anymore and went to get up to comfort her, but sam grabbed him, shaking his head. Dean glared at him and settled back down.

Few minutes later they heard her breathing change, it sounded as if she was going into a panic attack. This worried Dean even more. His head snapped up and he felt so helpless sitting there while the love of his life was suffering because of him.

He had had enough and just as he was about to get up, he heard her call someone.

“C-Charlie?” Her voice was breathy. “I n-need you.”

It would seem Charlie had said something on the other side.

“Okay. C-can you come in through the window?” Y/N managed to get out. “I think Sam’s here.”

Charlie said something before Y/N thanked her and cut the call.

Dean and Sam looked at each other wide eyed. If Charlie was coming, they’d be in serious trouble. She’d sniff them out like a bloodhound and not to mention, Dean was going to get his ass handed to him. Assuming she knew what he did.

20mins later they heard boots thud against the floor. Charlie had snuck in.

“Y/N!” She ran towards her, pulling her into a hug on the bed. “Oh Y/N…” She comforted her as Y/N cried into her shoulders.

“Breathe for me, babe. It’s going to be alright.” Charlie coaxed her into breathing again, stopping her from having another panic attack.

“I-I’m sorry” whispered Y/N hoarsely.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Dean needs to get his ass whooped to hell and back!” She said fiercely,

Dean gulped at that. Charlie could be scary if she needed to be. But he didn’t disagree with her. He would happily let his ass get whooped if it meant Y/N would see he was sorry.

“I don’t know what to do, Charlie. I love him so much, and what he did hurts just as much. I want to forgive him. He’s tried to apologise and I can see he’s sorry. But how do I move past it? How do I stop feeling this pain?”

“You guys have been together for three years now. Y/N, as much as I want to hurt Dean for doing this to you, the only way you can move on is if you talk to him. Even if it’s to break up, you need to look him in the eye and tell him how you feel.”

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Right now no matter what you do, you won’t feel better about it. The only one to make you feel better is Dean. And-“ Charlie stopped suddenly and looked towards the headboard.

“Charlie, what’s wrong?” Y/N asked getting alert herself.

Dean and Sam looked at each other afraid that they had gotten caught. They heard guns being drawn and cocked. Suddenly Dean found himself on the receiving end of the barrel of the gun.

“Woah woah! Charlie don’t shoot!” He yelled, while Sam did the same towards Y/N who too had a gun drawn.

The girls were glaring fiercely at the brothers and there was a tensed silence.

“What the fuck, Winchesters!?” Yelled Charlie.

“I know! I know, I’m sorry! We aren’t supposed to be here, but it was all Sam’s idea!” Dean was desperate to get her to drop the gun.

“Thanks man” came Sam’s reply.

“Is this some sick joke to you?! You cheat on her and now you spy on her?!”

“Charlie, came down.” Y/N said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Sam, why did you guys come here?” She couldn’t look at Dean yet so instead talked to Sam.

“We were worried about you, Y/N. You wouldn’t talk or answer our calls. I stayed here with you for more than a week and I still didn’t get any response from you. We needed to know if you were ok, we didn’t plan on hiding. It just happened when you came out of the shower.”

Y/N sighed and crossed the room to sit on the bed. “So you heard everything huh?” She asked quietly not looking at anyone.

But Dean knew it was meant for him. He took a step towards her and stopped, wondering is he should. It was wrong of him to even be here at the moment. Charlie and Sam slowly made their way out of the room to give them space to talk.

“Don’t hurt her anymore, Winchester.” Threatened Charlie before closing the door.

Dean stood there, feeling awkward and scared. He didn’t know how this was going to go. He thought she surely hated him but hearing her say otherwise, brought hope in him. Maybe he could earn her forgiveness after all.

“I want to move past this.” Y/N’s voice came softly, surprising him. “I understand it was a mistake. But I have to know. Why?”

Dean took a seat beside her, leaving some space in case she wanted to be away from him still. He rubbed his face taking a deep breathe.

“It was a really bad hunt. It was a shifter and he took your form and made me hurt you and then kill you. And I went to the bar after and got really wasted. When she approached me, I didn’t even think if it was you or not. I just needed something. I needed then and there. But I never meant to hurt you, baby. I made a huge mistake. And I’m so so sorry. I’d take it back in a heartbeat.” He said.

“I know you’re sorry, Dean. But I don’t know how to move past this.” She said so sadly.

“I want to do anything and everything I can to make it up to you sweetheart.” He looked at her. “I love you.”

Y/N looked back at him with a frown. “It’s gonna take a lot of sucking up, Winchester.”

“Yeah. I won’t let you down ever again. I promise.”

Y/N shuffled closer and rested her head against his shoulder. He rested his against her head. They sat there for a while just being in that bubble. Maybe things just might work out in the end.

❅ ❅ ❅

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dontwakeme-causeimdreaming · 3 years

Text

Fearless (Taylor’s Version) Thoughts:

(This will be VERY LONG)

Ok first of all I’m incredibly happy she gets to own this entire album now I’m so proud of her and these are all opinions we all have different favs and that’s totally fine if mine are different than yours

Fearless: kinda miss the country twang when she sings “drag me head first fearless” bc it was so fun to imitate when singing but overall good

Fifteen: her vocals are so strong in this omg “gONna be” hits different ... like it is so clear she really knows better now than she did at fifteen even sm more so than when she sang this at eighteen like she really feels it

Love Story: ok we been knew on this one a little bummed the eagle sound meant nothing though

Hey Stephen: this was never a personal fav of mine tbh but I LOVE her giggle in this omg (even more than the original giggle)... also the humming is a vibe at the end

White Horse: the control over “begging for forgiveness” a goddess

You Belong With Me: omg this one sounds the most different to me so far but I LOVE IT (also YBWM is a personal fav to begin with)... we can have a little misogyny ✨as a treat✨

Breathe: another tbh that was never my favorite (I don’t dislike it I just wouldn’t put it on ya know) but I feel like I can hear Colbie sm more on this version which I appreciate ... also “lOst a friend” in the bridge is so good

Tell Me Why: hot take but TMW has always been a personal fav and this version is SO GOOD the vocals are just so strong ugh and the “my mind” in the bridge is *chef’s kiss* ... “ask me for my love and push me around” toward the end too ugh I LOVE it

You’re Not Sorry: this song always gives me Conrad Fisher and Belly Conklin vibes from the Summer I Turned Pretty trilogy (especially the second book, but I would also accept Belly and Jere in the third book) (iykyk) but her control in the first verse is INCREDIBLE

The Way I Loved You: is it just me or does this version sound more country than the original? Also this may be really controversial and I’m sorry (please don’t attack me bc I do love this song) but I feel like Taylor sounds too mature to be singing about loving a toxic relationship here (which is a compliment to Taylor’s currently really healthy relationship it’s just too stable for this to be relatable anymore... or maybe I’m too old now 😬)

Forever and Always: this sounds so similar yet so different to me simultaneously but I do feel like since it’s been a decade and she’s obviously over the 27-second break up call now this version isn’t as sassy (especially the baby back ups)

The Best Day: this one sounds the most similar to the original so far imo and I hope it brought her joy instead of pain with the re-recording considering her mum’s health

Change: I know the original was written about Obama winning in 2008 but I can easily see the re-record being about Biden winning in 2020 bc both were such important elections

Jump Then Fall: I like that she keeps the “heh” before the beginning of the second verse that part is so fun this song is my ex best friend’s all time favorite though so it’s bittersweet listening to this version wondering what her thoughts may be

Untouchable: I usually skip Untouchable whenever it comes on the original but I didn’t this time I didn’t hear much of a difference but I liked Taylor’s version better (couldn’t tell you why) (maybe bc she owns it and I love her)

Forever and Always (piano version): this somehow sounds so much more raw (probably bc she has mastered writing heart breaking ballads at this point since 2008 lol) (e.g. All too Well, champagne problems, etc.)

Come In With the Rain: hmm I’m torn now that I made it this far on the album I can’t tell if I think this of the Best Day sounds most like the original

Superstar: Joe Jonas just can’t catch a break this week

The Other Side of the Door: ok but unlike TWILY I don’t feel like she sounds too mature to be singing this song (even though it’s about playing games in a relationship) and I always equate (and love) the two. The last verse in this song hits SO hard though on both versions but she sounds like she is having sm fun singing it on her version 🥺

Today Was a Fairytale: I will never get over how low the bar for men is “wore a dark grey t-shirt” and “told me I was pretty” is a fairy tale lmao... but in all seriousness I loved this version

You All Over Me: I love the addition of Maren Morris I do just wish that when she adds female collaborators they got actual lines as opposed to harmonies like her male collabs do... the lyrics are very old school Taylor with the pavement references it reminds me of both TTWAS and Fearless simultaneously

Mr. Perfectly Fine: SUCH A BOP this song walked so All Too Well could run with casually cruel and I find it iconic that Sophie posted about it like I don’t even have an ex that broke my heart but when I hear that song I feel like I do

We Were Happy: I am SOOO happy this was chosen as a vault track this has been one of my favs since like 2011 before all the unreleased songs were deleted from YouTube my 14 year self is QUAKING to finally have a high quality and easily accessible version of this song I AM SO HAPPY

That’s When: ok but see what I mean bc Keith gets actual lines whereas Maren and Colbie just get background harmonies but I did enjoy this song it was catchy

Don’t You: ok this is really relatable I vibe with it it’s a little slow first listen but her slow songs with lyrics I relate to always grow on me a lot

Bye Bye Baby: I like the beat a lot and idek how to describe the one part that really caught my attention it was like “ayayay” toward the end idk it’s very late now I’m tired lol but I liked it

I’m incredibly tired now after staying up to listen to this on a work night but it was worth it I hope my rambling made sense (this post is mostly for me to remember my initial thoughts and how they change over time but I love discussion too just please be respectful if our opinions are different!)

*Disclaimer: this will be the ONLY version of Fearless I listen to from now on even though I prefer the 2008 version of some songs bc Taylor owns it :)

#taylor swift #swifties #taylurking #fearless #fearless taylor’s version #from the vault #rerecording

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bellamybellamyblake · 4 years

Text

STAINED RED

(bellamy blake x reader)

Warnings: angsty as hell, canon death, lowkey panic attack, emotional breakdown, sadness, lots of mentions of blood, idek what to call the ending

Pairing: Bellamy x Collins!Reader

Word Count: 2k ~roughly~

A/N: I asked myself if I should make the first Bellamy one-shot that I post angsty. Then I remembered that I don’t know how to write happy stuff so in honor of Season 7 starting in one hour - even though I can’t watch it - here’s some sad shit.

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Finn giving himself up to the grounders was the dumbest and smartest thing you had ever witnessed. Stupid; now you and Clarke have to deal with the aftermath and the fact that the commander's soldiers were stringing your brother up like an animal. And wise because he knew there was nothing anybody could do otherwise to sanctify an alliance with Lexa. As you and the aforementioned blonde watched Finn get chained to a pole, you connected eyes, and agreed wordlessly that you would do anything you could to make his death painless and short.

The two of you broke away from your lineup of people and headed to go into Lexa's barricade, Bellamy followed when he noticed and the man asked what the hell you were doing. Clarke quickly explained - and lied - that they were going to just talk to the commander as a last resort when Raven stopped you and grabbed your hand, catching all the other two's attention.

Eyes dancing in the moonlight, you eyed Raven as she pulled out a small and makeshift metal dagger and placed it softy in your hand, sliding it up your sleeve. "If she won't let him go," The tan skinned girl started ominously and determined. "Kill her."

You knew that if either of you even attempted to hurt Lexa, you and Clarke would probably be dead in, at the most, minutes. Unless they decided to make it slow - which was probably what they would do.

It's not that you didn't care whether or not if Finn dies, you did. He was your twin brother, you cared with everything you had. When he told you that he decided to turn himself in you slapped him upside the head and told him he was crazy. When you watched him get dragged away from you, you wanted to sob, especially seeing Raven and Clarke's reactions. And now, seeing him like that - terrified, wanting to live, regretting his choice, - you almost talked yourself out of it going along with your plan.

But you and him both understood that if your people don't align with the grounders, that they would all be dead by morning.

You and Clarke over me.

Instead of telling Raven, 'no,' like you should've, you shook your head up and down in agreement, giving the girl a sense of false hope that she didn't deserve the burden of having it dragged through the mud.

Before anything else could happen, Bellamy pulled you aside, delaying your brother's death by only moments. "What else is there to say, Y/N?"

"I don't know. Neither does Clarke but we'll figure it out."

There was no way you were going to tell him what you and the blonde were up to, you knew he would tell you not to let his death be on your conscience. You could practically hear the words coming out of his mouth and maybe you or Clarke will be the one to end it, but it was his choices that got him strung up in the first place. Since their first battle with the grounders at the dropship just a few weeks ago, your brother had never been the same. Then he found out the girl he was in love with went missing and you didn't even recognize him anymore.

He was beginning to scare you.

Or that was all a bunch of bullshit that you were telling to make yourself feel better and add some extra insentive to actually go through with it, you didn’t actually know for sure.

At your words, Bellamy hugged you quickly with some assurance that he'll still be there no matter what happened. It's like he was reading your mind, which sometimes you believed he could actually do. Nodding, you pulled back, sticking to silence as the best answer and he opened the gate or you and Clarke to pass.

Both of you made your way through the path of incredibly intimidating grounder soldiers and went to the entrance of the commander's tent. There stood Indra, a woman that you actually kind of admired - her loyalty to Lexa was something you had never witnessed in anyone that wasn't related.

"Let us through," Clarke spoke, you standing in front of her and stepping into the warrior's spear, daring her to move it.

“Let them pass.”

At the commander's order, Indra reluctantly - but instantly - removed the spear from your abdomen and you let out a breath of relief. As you and Clarke approached Lexa, they made quick eye contact, knowing what they needed to do, deciding that the blonde would do most of the talking.

“You plead for nothing,” Lexa said, her bravado never failing her. “You cannot stop this.”

"No, only you can. Show our people how powerful you are, show them you can be merciful. Show them you're not a savage," Clarke tried, a last ditch effort to save her lover's life - something you and her didn't exactly agree on but not something to hold against her.

“We are what we are.”

Clarke started begging the woman, trying to get her to see reason or even switch her out for Finn, trade her life for his. And as Lexa predictably denied, and practically put his upcoming death on her head, you jumped in not allowing this conversation to get any worse.

If that’s even possible.

With a stone cold face and no emotion in your voice, you spoke. "Can we at least say goodbye?" The commander just nodded at you as an answer.

You let Clarke go first, something in her eyes was pleading you to not make her be the one to do it and you shook your head with a yes, waiting to the side patiently as she held and cried for your brother. You gave them the privacy of not listening in, though it was painfully hard not to. Only when you saw her kiss him and stumble away, her knees giving out as sobs took over her body, did you advance towards your flesh and blood.

Stepping up to Finn, a grave expression written on your features, you immediately pulled him in for a hug, finally realizing the gravity of this situation. You two didn't even need to exchange words to know how the other felt or what they wanted to say.

All your older twin brother could even mutter was, "I'll be okay, Don't worry." He could almost tell what she was going to do but it was confirmed when he glanced to her hand and saw a shiny metal knife, just barely making contact with his shirt. You let out a shaky breath and hesitated.

Choking out an, "I love you," you let only a few tears fall from your eyes to your cheek, and squeezed your brother in an even tighter embrace. "I'm sorry." That's all you could say, that'll you knew to say that could even remotely make him feel any safer.

You felt him nod, and you guessed that was his acceptance and signal, telling you he was ready for you to follow through with your plan. You felt the knife break through his skin as you pushed it deeper into his heart, killing him instantly. You almost expected him to say something while you still held his, now limp, body in your hands, already regretting accepting the responsibility for this.

But instead of letting any more salt flow from your tear ducts, you took a deep breath, gathered your bearings and stepped away from Finn, haunted.

\|/|\|/

You couldn't stop staring at the blood. His blood stained on your shirt and hands. You sat away from the commander and Clarke who negotiated an alliance, not having spoken since you plunged a dagger in your own twin's heart. You didn't hear anyone come in, you didn't hear Abby and Kane arguing, nor did you hear Clarke agreeing to all the terms Lexa set. You didn't even hear them leave.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Your brother was dead and you’re the only one to blame.

When it finally occurred to you that you can wash the physical blood off but it'll always be her fault, your hands started shaking, your chest tightened and the ringing in your ears became deafening. Maybe if you had just killed Lexa like Raven suggested, they would've gotten him out. You should've done something, anything else, it didn't matter what.

Then you remembered when Kane tried to say something of comfort to you. Clearly, you didn't respond, but you did recall him putting a small wet rag next to you so you could wipe the blood away. Sure enough, when you looked to your left, finally breaking out of your trance - only to start panicking even more - you grabbed the piece of cloth and started viciously scrubbing your hands.

You didn't care that your skin was turning red and getting chapped underneath the crimson liquid, probably to crack and create more of your own. You didn't care that the tent had become empty aside from you. All you could focus on was the blood and the fact that the air seemed to be pulled out of it like an airlock on the Ark and sobs overtook your body as you tried to scratch the red off.

It was then that you felt someone take hold of your hands, making you quickly glance up to see Bellamy's mouth moving but you couldn't hear any words come out. The room was becoming smaller and smaller and you tried to rip your hands away to keep scratching the disappearing liquid off. Everything will be fine once it’s gone. It wasn't until right now that you realized you were speaking, words tumbling from your lips without your control, over and over again.

“I have to get it off. I have to get it off."

Suddenly, sound started filtering into your ears as Bellamy forced you to connect eyes by putting his hands on your cheeks and pulling your face up. "It's gone! You got it off, alright?" You only responded with the shake of your head, a frantic expression glued on and you still couldn't inhale or exhale correctly, breaking the eye contact. "Look at me, Y/N/N, breathe. It's okay."

Tears were uncontrollably falling down your face and you couldn't catch your breath. "I-I can't-I-I killed him -I-"

"Don't talk, just breathe. It'll be okay."

If you weren’t completely trapped in your own head, you would've been able to focus on the caring tone the man you loved used. You might've even conceded right then and there, but you were so wrapped up in remembering the knife piercing through your brother's heart at your own hand.

“I-I'm a monster," You stuttered out, bringing your hands to your head, trying to push your own head in. "God, it hurts-"

“They would've tortured him, you know that." You heard Bellamy say, his own voice a little louder than before but it was breaking too, though you still couldn't bring yourself to believe him. You could tell he meant the words he was saying but they just sounded like lies to you. The man could tell that that no more words were going help you calm down and as he stared into your absolutely devastated eyes that weren't returning his gaze and his heart broke at the sight. He just decided to pull you in for a tight embrace, your face was immediately buried into his chest, your tears soaked his shirt and he wrapped his arms around you. "You saved him from so much pain. You're not a monster, I promise."

Why does he keep lying to me?

His warmth was both appreciated and unwanted, you didn't deserve this. You're a cold blooded killer, you don't deserve comfort. You didn't have the physical nor mental strength to push him off and selfishly let yourself be held and loved even though you deprived Finn of ever feeling that again. The thoughts running through your head make your cries pick up once more, and you just needed the debilitating pain to be gone.

Your voice was begging, pleading, broken. “I can’t take it! M-Make it stop, Bell, please.”

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wildandsexyjacks · 4 years

Text

Borderline

Pairing: Oh Sehun + Reader

Genre: idek maybe a little angsty at first + lovers to exes to lovers again AU

Word count: 1,4k

Warnings: rated M for the fun stuff. it’s not explicit me thinks but, um, it’s there so read at your own discretion

“He’s staring at you.” your friend whisper-shouts, leaning on your shoulder so you can hear her over the heavy bass thundering in your ears.

You don’t need to ask who the he she’s referring to is because everyone always knows when Sehun and his group of celebrity friends arrive by the commotion it causes. You also don’t need to look to know exactly where he is, as they always claim the same spot in the VIP lounge on the second floor. He’s probably resting his forearms on the top of the balcony railing, double scotch in hands, staring down at the dance floor looking utterly unimpressed. It’s been like this every weekend for the past two months.

You don’t need to look, you don’t want to and you shouldn’t, but your eyes betray you just the same. It’s been like this for the past two months too.

Sehun looks gorgeous in tight pants paired with a dark dress-shirt and the blue Gucci coat you gave him for Christmas last year. When he sees you looking, he raises his glass and shoots you his classic white-teeth-crescent-eyes smile. After raising your own glass, you down its content in one long gulp and turn your back to him to resume dancing with your friend.

Every weekend. Every fucking weekend he’s been doing the same damn thing. He comes to your nightclub knowing you don’t like it, stares, stares, stares, and then he leaves. You should be used to it by now, but it still hurts to think of things that could have been, so you force yourself to not look back again.

After five songs, you’re starting to get thirsty, so you go over to the bar to get yourself another drink, right at the same time as Sehun walks down the stairs. He strides in your direction and leans against the bar counter, trying to get your attention.

Well... That’s a first.

“What are you doing in my club?” you ask, fixing the strap in your dress so you don’t have to look at him.

“It’s my birthday,” he explains, giving you a weird look.

Right.

Fuck.

“Congratulations.”

Sehun nods towards the dance floor.

“You’re a great dancer.” while he waves a hand at the bartender, you entertain the thought of smashing his head against the counter for being so full of himself. he was the one who taught you how to dance, all those months ago. It’s how you ended up in bed together for the first time. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Just as you’re about to reply, the bartender - a new guy you hired a few weeks ago - takes one look at Sehun and frowns.

“Everything okay here, boss? Is this guy bothering you?”

Sehun looks insulted, but you just wave a dismissive hand.

“It’s alright, he’s a friend.” you tap your fingers on the bar counter “I’m thirsty, Han. Mix me an Orgasm, please.” then you point to Sehun, giving him a crooked smile “He’s buying.”

After the bartender gives you two thumbs up and turns on his heels to prepare your drink, Sehun scoots closer, raising one perfect eyebrow.

“Am I?”

“Buying?”

“A friend.”

You open your mouth, then close again, not knowing what to say. It’s a difficult question because Sehun was never a friend. At least not just that. He was Chanyeol’s friend, then he was a one night stand, then after a week of one night stands he was something else. After a month, he was almost like a boyfriend... And everything was great for several months. For over a year, actually, up until mid-february, when he hinted at possibly wanting to go officially steady. You freaked out, and he became an ex.

Han-the-bartender saves you from having to reply by setting your drink on the counter and sliding it in your direction. You take a sip while he watches you expectantly then nod your approval.

“Thank you.” you turn around to go back to the dance floor, looking at Sehun from over your shoulder and shouting to the bartender “Put it in his tab.”

You manage four steps before Sehun catches up and grabs your arm.

“Look, you know I can’t stay down here for long, can’t we at least go somewhere to talk?” you stare at him in silence, unmoved, until he goes all out, pouting adorably to strike where it hurts the most “Please? It’s my birthday.”

Biting your lip, you avert his gaze. This is not a good idea.

Not a good idea at all.

“Sure, why not?” you shrug.

Next thing you know, you’re in the storage room, sitting on a pile of boxes of Grey Goose, Sehun standing between your parted legs as he kisses a thorough line down your neck to your collarbone. His fancy coat is long gone and you’re currently unbuttoning his shirt with skilled fingers, all the while listing the reasons why you’re not a good match.

He’s a famous actor, a celebrity, a public figure with a reputation to maintain. You’re a nightclub owner and a party girl.

He looks chic and cool but in reality, he’s a hopeless romantic while you’re almost pathologically afraid of commitment.

You’re both too busy to make a real relationship work.

If you keep this up, it’ll hurt a lot more when it inevitably ends.

“Come on, Y/N.” Sehun snakes a hand up your thigh under the skirt of your dress, reaching lace underwear and making you squirm with want “I know you like me too. Stop being so pessimistic, let’s give it a shot.”

While he keeps moving his hand, you pull his hair, shaking and panting, with only half a mind to tell yourself that you knew this was a bad, bad idea. Sehun has a way of making you beg with minimum effort, and both of you know he’s got a steady ground to bargain over anything while touching you like that.

“That’s not- oh god- That’s not the point.”

The pile of boxes is barely holding up and the wall scratches your exposed shoulder blades in an uncomfortable way but you can’t bring yourself to tell Sehun to stop “The point is that- yes, right there- it’s not going to last.”

“I already told you, you think too much. Let’s worry about that later, if the moment ever comes. Right now I just want to make you-“ he kisses your lips, your cheek, your neck “Come on, baby, let it go, I got you.”

He keeps the pace impossibly slow until you’re begging like you knew you would, like you know he likes. With that same infuriating smile, he drops to his knees, puts your legs over his shoulders and in a second he has you seeing white. While you catch your breath and struggle to form coherent thoughts, he kisses your inner thigh, mumbling soft words against your skin until your legs stop shaking.

Before you have the chance to get up, though, the bar manager barges into the room, catching you and Sehun in a rather compromising position.

“There you are!” she exclaims, and you both jump to your feet, knocking down half the pile of boxes you were sitting on “Oh! Oh! I’m sorry.” she then turns around, covering her eyes after finally realizing what exactly she just interrupted “Sorry, it’s just... Mr. Oh, your friends are looking for you. We’re closing soon, so...”

Sehun’s already buttoning up the few buttons you managed to undo, looking down, embarrassed. You grab his wrist to check the time on his watch. 5:38 a.m.

“Right. Right, um, thank you, Yumi. We’ll be there in a second.”

“Of course.” she’s still trying to avoid looking in your direction “Do you want me to send someone to, you know... The vodka.”

You assess the puddle of alcohol at your feet and can’t help but feel a little sad - two boxes of fine vodka, going down the drain. Then there’s Oh Sehun by your side, still embarrassed and trying not to laugh, looking the cutest right after making you find god just a minute ago.

Fuck the vodka, you don’t regret it at all.

“Sure. That would be great.” you smile at Yumi’s back “Thank you.”

“No problem!” the bar manager blurts out, then all but runs off.

As soon as you’re left alone, you break out laughing. Sehun wraps his arms around you and hides his face in the crook of your neck, body shaking with silent laughter.

“I’m sorry.” he murmurs after a second.

“Oh, don’t be.” you shrug “I’m putting this in your tab too.” taking Sehun’s hand, you drag him out of the storage room “Now how about we go back to my place and you can convince me some more?”

“Convince...? Wait.” he stops walking “So you’re considering it? Giving it a shot?”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe you are being pessimistic.

Maybe it’s worth a try.

You look over your shoulder and smile, tugging at your joined hands.

“Ah, well. It’s your birthday, right?”

so... i got carried away lmao

happy birthday to the most handsome man in this entire world and maybe others, king of eyebrows and pacific-wide shoulders.... greek gods only wish they’d looked as good as osh

additionally, the exos have spoiled him rotten but let’s be honest: it’s what he deserves

#oh sehun #sehun #sehun scenario #sehun au #sehun fanfic #sehun imagine #exo fanfics #exo scenarios

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