#whatever I’m sure I’ll be complaining about it eventually

[azriels-shadowsinger]

you should totally do number 12 with az or rhys 🥺

“When have you ever cared?” “I’ve always cared.”

Azriel x Reader

wc: 2k

a/n: i always love a good rivals to lovers story. warning: descriptions of blood and injuries.

prompt list

You hate Azriel. Absolutely hated him. You hate his cocky attitude, you hate the way he never wants you on missions, you hate the way girls seem to fawn over him at Rita’s, and most of all, you hate the way that you can’t stop being attracted to him. Which made the current situation worse, because you were having trouble focusing on training when Azriel was shirtless and sweaty sparring with Cassian across the ring.

After the fifth time of you getting knocked onto the floor by your sparring partner after getting distracted, Emerie eventually gave up on you.

“How are you supposed to be ready for your mission tomorrow if you are so unfocused?” she laughed.

“I’ll be fine. I do-“ You stop speaking when you feel a shadowy presence lurk over you.

“Can I help you Azriel?” You ask sarcastically, turning to face him.

“You’re not going.” Azriel replied gruffly.

“Excuse me?” You scoff.

“I said you’re not going on the mission.” You roll your eyes. Of course he would try to keep you off of yet another mission. You had prepared for that and got Rhysand to personally ensure that you could go this time.

“Take that up with Rhys. He said I’m going.” You say with a victorious smirk.

“We’ll see about that.” He grumbles, storming off towards Rhysand’s office. You wait patiently with a smug smile on your face, pretending to be preoccupied with sharpening your daggers, as he returns.

“You will not do anything without my say so. You will not stray from the mission at all, under any circumstances. If I give an order, you follow it. Do you understand?” He spits angrily, obviously upset over Rhysand’s decision.

“Whatever you say, spymaster. I’ll see you at 6 AM to head out.” You say smugly and turn to leave.

———

You meet Azriel the next morning, and he is already visibly agitated. After an overly detailed discussion of the mission plan, he winnows the two of you to the mission spot.

Azriel made sure to reiterate the plan again once you arrived, earning an annoyed eyeroll at the implied lack of faith in your skills. The plan was that he would infiltrate the safe house, capture the enemy, and extract him from the building to bring him back for interrogation. You were only there to help carry the unconscious body, apparently. You reluctantly agree to the plan, realizing that arguing would get you nowhere. At least you were allowed to join this time.

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Be ready to winnow.” He whispers before disappearing into the shadows.

Fifteen minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. After forty minutes, you were fully convinced something had gone horribly wrong.

Fuck it. You didn’t care if he got pissed, you’re going in to check that everything is okay.

You move closer to the building and peek into the window. No movement. You sneak closer to the door, slipping inside inconspicuously. Upon entering, you begin to scan the area for any signs of Azriel. You walk further inside turning the corner, and that’s when you see it: blood on the floor, and Truthteller lying discarded next to it. That cannot be a good sign, you think while trying to shove your panic down deep. You quickly pick up the abandoned blade and examine the area closer, following the trail of blood and the sound of voices through the halls. When you finally reach a large room, you see exactly what you were afraid of. Azriel is bound against the wall unconscious and bloody. The target is watching him while conversing with someone, twirling a knife in his hand.

“Just kill him already.” The other fae complains.

“No. Do you not realize who this is, you imbecile? This is the spymaster of the High Lord. Once Rhysand realizes he is missing, he will come try to rescue him, and then we can finally take that undeserving half-breed out. Hopefully, he brings the general, and we can kill the bastard too. Only then will I kill the shadowsinger, but not until we get to have our fun with him. I’m sure there are some juicy secrets of the court we can carve out of him.” You feel nauseated at the sickening grin on the male’s face.

Your duty is to this court, and cannot allow Rhysand and Cassian to be put in danger over this. Nor can you sit by and watch Azriel be tortured by this cruel, idiotic male. Idiotic because he didn’t use magical bindings to lock Azriel up, allowing his shadows to roam free. They circle their master, obviously frantic that he cannot hear them.

A small shadow darts towards you, and soon the rest follow. The shadows swirl around you, expectantly, going completely unnoticed by the two males.

“Um, I’m not entirely sure if you can understand me, but I have a plan. If you all could make it very dark in here, that would be great.” You ask awkwardly, hoping the shadows understand. They apparently do, because soon the entire room goes dark, except for the path between you and Azriel.

“What the- hey!” You hear the other male yell and footsteps run towards you. Unable to see through the shadows, you throw a dagger towards the noise. Without checking to see if you hit your target, you hurry to free Azriel from his chains. Once his hands are free, you grab onto him and attempt to winnow.

Winnowing long distances was always a challenge for you, you’re not sure why. What takes others a single jump takes you five. You hold tightly to Azriel and try to winnow. The world around you begins to fade, turning into blackness. Before the sight can completely fade, however, you see a knife come hurdling towards you, landing directly in your thigh.

The sudden burning pain causes you to lose focus, and the world abruptly reappears around you, causing both you and Azriel to land face first in the dirt of a random forest.

“Fuck!” You yell in pain. Either the fall or the sound of your yelling seems to have roused Azriel because you hear faint grumbling beside you before he falls unconscious again. As you attempt to stand, searing pain shoots down your leg from the wound in your thigh. You bite your lip, trying to ignore the stabbing ache. Now is not the time to focus on your pain. You need to get the two of you to safety, you remind yourself. You pull the blade out from your leg with a cry. Once you compose yourself again, you wrap a piece of cloth torn from your shirt around your leg to stop the bleeding. You grab ahold of Azriel again and attempt to winnow, but for some reason, you can’t. That’s when you notice the faint green tinge on the discarded blade.

“Gods damned faebane.” You curse lowly. You won’t be winnowing anywhere for a while. It’s likely in Azriel too, meaning you two are stuck. Great.

———

It took over an hour to drag the giant Illyrian through the forest, finally finding an abandoned cabin. By the time you reach it, you feel lightheaded from the blood loss and from hauling Azriel. There is absolutely no way you could lift him, so once he is safely inside on the floor, you search the cabin for first aid materials. You find a roll of gauze and a bottle of liquor. That will have to do, you think.

You manage to bite your tongue through the pain of cleaning and dressing your wound and begin to work on Azriel’s. As soon as the alcohol-soaked cloth touches his cut, the male jolts up in a panic. One quick look around at the unfamiliar cabin and you tending to his injuries, and Azriel freaks.

“What the hell happened? Where are we? Are you bleeding?” He fires on a string of questions, one after another.

“Breathe. We’re okay. You got captured, not entirely sure how honestly, and I had to save your ass. We are waiting here until the faebane leaves our systems.” You try to sound calm, but that doesn’t stop your racing heart. Azriel thinks for a moment, looking around the cabin. His eyes land on the bloody bandaged wound on your thigh again, and he immediately becomes angry.

“You came in after me?” He barks.

“Uh, yeah?” You ask, confused at his anger.

“You disobeyed a direct order!” Azriel growls.

“You were in trouble!” Why the hell are you having to defend yourself for saving him?

“I don’t care. You should’ve followed orders. I would’ve gotten myself free eventually.” He snaps. You huff in annoyance.

“You stupid arrogant male, they were going to torture you! And then use you to lure Rhys and Cass and kill them too! How the hell was I supposed to sit by and let that happen?” You scream angrily. He attempts to stand, wincing at the pain. You want to tell him that he should stay sitting, but it’s unlikely that he will listen.

“You should’ve stayed outside.” He growls, stalking closer.

“You would be dead if I did that!” You stare him down in defiance.

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have gotten hurt!” That makes you pause. Is that why he’s angry, you wonder.

“Despite what you may think about my skills, I’m perfectly capable of withstanding a minor injury from a mission!” You argue.

“You shouldn’t have to.” He spits coldly.

“Since when do you care what happens to me?” You scoff.

“I’ve always cared.” His voice drops to being barely audible and he turns away. You freeze.

“What?”

“Nevermind. I’m gonna start a fire while we wait.” He grumbles. You walk around him to face him, blocking the fireplace.

“No, what did you mean you’ve always cared? You hate me. Everyone knows it.” You ask hesitantly. This must be some new attempt to embarrass you or something, you rationalize.

“I’ve never hated you.” He whispers, avoiding eye contact by staring at the floor.

“I don't understand. Then why do you always keep me out of missions? Why do you ignore me any time I try to be nice?” You ask angrily.

“I… fuck.” He runs his hand through his hair before looking you in the eyes. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you getting hurt. Either from missions or by me.” The last words come out quieter than the rest. “I thought that ignoring you and keeping you off missions would keep you kept you at a safe distance. I didn’t want to risk you being targeted just because of how I feel about you.” Your eyes soften at the admission.

“That wasn’t your decision to make. I get to decide what is worth the risk for me.” You say in a gentler tone. Azriel looks at the floor again, shaking his head.

“You don’t get it. Today is a perfect example. The people in my life that I care about are constantly at risk.”

“Did I not handle myself?” You ask, causing him to sigh.

“That isn’t the point. You don’t-“ You cut him off, pressing a kiss to his lips. Azriel stands frozen for a second, before quickly wrapping his hands into your hair and holding you closer. “Fuck it.” He mumbles while kissing you, backing you into the wall.

It’s safe to say that you and Azriel found very good use of your time while you waited for the faebane to wear off.

———

Rhysand was less than thrilled to hear about the unsuccessful mission when you returned. After you two showed him what happened, obviously leaving out what happened at the cabin, the three of you made a plan to go back and capture the two males. Azriel tried to argue about you going, but one stern look from you and he quickly shut up.

“Well, it seems like you two sorted out your issues.” Rhys laughs, not noticing Azriel’s smirk.

prompt list

tag list: @fxckmiup

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #azriel #azriel acotar #my writing #azriel x reader #acotar x reader

[withleeknow]

parallel lines.

pairing: jisung x reader genre/warnings: best friends au, unrequited love au, angst; unedited (nothing new lol) word count: 1.3k note: @joy: one of your numbers was “things you said while you were driving” :D hope you like it boo, but i also hope you perish, but i also hope you like it <3

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

live in the moment. don’t let the present pass you by. that’s what people love to tell you.

it’s a bit of a cliché, but it’s not terrible advice. actually, it's something that you have to remind yourself from time to time too - to focus more on what’s happening in the now before it becomes a piece of the past.

if it were any other day, sure, you’d be up for internalizing those words.

but today? no, today you can only focus on one breathe at a time, one stoplight at a time.

because today, he’s leaving. one of the people you’ve cherished the most your entire life is leaving you and there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening.

you’re not even listening to what’s being said from the passenger seat of your car. in fact, in the past forty five minutes, you’ve only been nodding along, making a noncommittal noise every now and then to pretend like you’re absorbing whatever information he’s feeding you.

eventually, you hum at the wrong time, and that’s when he catches on.

“hey! you're not even listening to me,” jisung complains, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“sorry.” the apology is insincere as it rolls off your tongue. “i’m just a little distracted.”

“why?” he asks.

how is that even a question? you spare him a glance, then you tell him, “i’m literally driving you to the airport right now.”

he looks at you, opens his mouth to say something but stops himself before any word could come out.

you turn your focus back to the road, thinking about how the distance keeps getting shorter and shorter, how you’re just getting closer to the ending of a chapter in your life. you could drive slower and bide your time, but what good does that do? you could stall for five or ten more minutes, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s still getting on that plane and leaving you behind.

after a moment of silence, jisung says, “i thought we agreed we wouldn’t let this be sad.”

“how could it not be sad? you’re moving away. we’re saying goodbye.”

“i’ll still come visit,” he tries to reason. “we can facetime and text every day. you can fly out to stay with me sometimes. it’s not like we’re never going to see each other again.”

you huff out a breath, gripping the wheel tightly. “but it won’t be the same,” you say quietly.

to that, jisung doesn’t have a solution to appease you. because what could he even offer you at this point? what you said is true - once he leaves, that’s it. things will never be the same again. absence doesn’t always make the heart grow fonder. sometimes, absence just sucks.

you go over the question in your head a couple times, wondering how you could make it sound less pathetic but in the end, you find that there’s not really any way around it. “would you ever come back?” you ask. “you know, not just to visit. would you come back?”

the man beside you purses his lips in thought.

“i don't know,” his voice is small as he looks out the window wistfully. it's unlike him, but you can't exactly fault him for it. this is one of your last moments together. just minutes ago, you practically refused to let him make light of the situation and face it for what it really is - a looming goodbye that eerily feels like a farewell, and you have to try your best to focus on the road instead of breaking down in front of him. “i don't know if there's anything here for me anymore.”

that stings.

what about me? you think but don’t dare to utter out loud. did you finally outgrow me?

sometimes, you think jisung knows. knows that your feelings for him extend far beyond the confines of platonic friendship. knows that you’ve loved him ever since you knew what love was, or maybe he was the reason why you even knew what love was in the first place.

he’s silly and far too unserious for his own good a lot of the times, but he’s not stupid. and you yourself don’t exactly do a very good job at concealing your foolish heart.

you let the remainder of the drive marinade in heavy silence. you’re too distraught to pretend that you aren’t, to try and make jokes and sweep it all under the rug. when you get to the airport, you help him get his luggages from the trunk, then watch as he drags them inside.

his whole life, packed up in suitcases.

you observe jisung from a distance as he goes to the correct counter to get check in his things. two minutes and the suitcases are already off. the lady behind the counter gives him a manufactured smile as she waves him off with her perfectly manicured hands.

so quick, so easy. the process of leaving you, done in mere minutes.

he returns to you with only a bag slung over his shoulder, his passport in his hands, and a sad smile on his face.

if jisung knows, then he’s pretty decent at pretending he’s just as clueless as the next person. he has never brought it up, never even hinted that he’s aware of how you feel about him and that’s why you’re never sure if he really holds this knowledge or not.

but there’s something different about right now. maybe it’s just because this is your final moment together before the chapter forever closes, but there’s something in the way that he’s looking at you. soft, delicate features and big brown eyes tinged with regret, with a little bit of guilt.

you go in for a hug to avoid being scrutinized under jisung’s gaze any longer. you both just stand there for a couple minutes, your arms around his waist, his arms around your shoulders. your heart begging him to stay while his aches to leave.

you know he’s always wanted to leave. leave this place, leave this city. but you can’t help feeling bitter about it because it means leaving you too.

when you pull away, your eyes are burning with unshed tears but you don’t let yourself cry, not in front of him. there’s plenty of time to deal with your grievances later, when you’re alone.

“text me when you land, okay?” you say, faking a smile. then you pause, “i love you.”

jisung ruffles your hair, tries to do it the playful way he always does and tacks on a grin for good measure, but you know it’s not entirely sincere judging by the way it doesn’t reach his eyes. goodbyes are inherently sad, after all.

“love you too,” he says. it’s not unusual for the two of you to say the same words but mean completely different things.

his hand lingers on your hair as the grin dulls into a tight-lipped smile. you watch him turn around and walk away, and the burning sensation behind your eyes intensifies.

it dawns on you then, that it doesn’t really matter if he knows about your feelings or not. it doesn’t matter because he’s already made the decision to pack up his life and forget about this place forever. it doesn’t matter because knowing doesn’t change anything; your own feelings are yours to bear and he shouldn’t have to be responsible that you’re in love with him.

you stare at his retreating figure that grows smaller and smaller with every step, until he passes through the security gates and you can’t even see him anymore. you hoped he would look back, but he didn’t.

and in that moment, you know that it doesn’t matter, not even a little bit, because he can’t love you the same way you love him.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz1skz @jazziwritesthings (italicized = can’t tag)

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 05.02.2024]

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #han jisung angst #han jisung scenarios #han jisung x reader #han jisung imagines #han jisung x you #stray kids #han jisung

[a-kaash-me-outside]

the walls are thin - ch5

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall. previous | ch5 | next [masterlist]

// overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be ~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 7955 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: oops, 18+ minors dni eventual smut, masturbation, incessant flirting (as always), msby besties, oh we're doing this already?, feelings are confusing but developing, drinking, frustrating a bit sorry abt that, she/her pronouns

send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

“i miss you,” he complains. you’d think you’d have gotten used to that phrase coming out of his mouth by now, but you can still feel your skin tingle. you roll your eyes nonetheless. 

“it’s not even been a full day,” you retort. 

he mulls over this for a minute before deciding that you’re wrong, “not true.”

“i think it is,” you say, “but even if it has been a full day, that’s kinda…,” you trail off, “pathetic?” 

he laughs, the pang in your heart telling you that maybe it isn’t so pathetic to miss somebody after not seeing them for a few tens of hours. you smile at him, eyes moving away from his gaze after just a few seconds. 

“i miss you too, maki,” you reciprocate. 

“not so pathetic after all,” he points at you through the phone. 

you purse your lips to the side, thoughtful, “no, still pathetic i think, just from both sides.”

“yea, fair,” he says, flipping over in his bed, lying on his side, messy hair against his pillow in a way that you’ve seen in person a few too many times. he called you this morning before the two of you had even gotten out of bed. “so, what did you even do last night without me?”

“well, i was planning on staying in and spending all weekend by myself,” you start, “but i actually went over to atsumu’s last night.”

“you? hung out with atsumu? on a friday night? what kinda things did you have to do for that to happen?” he asks, one eyebrow raised. 

“nothing,” you sneer at him, “he’s the one that suggested it actually.”

“yea, and how did that go?” he asks, tiny tinge of jealousy hidden behind the sarcasm at the end of the sentence.

“weirdly good. i thought he might try to make a move or something, but we just kinda hung out,” you explain, maybe omitting the parts where you fell asleep on his chest and told him that you think about him all the time. 

“and what are you up to tonight?” all of the questions that he keeps asking about your weekend are making you miss him even more, because the answer is nothing but you wish the answer was hanging out with maki.

you sigh dramatically, “well, you guys left me, so i’m having lunch with atsumu, but i’m on my own tonight. which isn’t bad actually, going to just spend some time alone, get caught up on assignments, whatever.”

“i’d probably be having more fun with you,” he admits.

“what? not going good over there?” you ask.

“no, it’s a blast. i’ve missed these guys and it’s been super fucking fun. last night, hajime convinced oikawa to jump in the lake with him and because oikawa was really drunk, he did it, but hajime didn’t jump with him and oikawa was really pissed. swear to god he almost drowned. it was really great,” maki laughs at the thought and then responds to your concerned look, “he didn’t drown, yn, calm down, it was funny.”

“and i’ve got to catch up with people that i haven’t seen since high school,” maki shrugs, pausing, “but i mean, they’re not you.”

you’re about to react, some form of i get that coming out of your mouth as there is a harsh knock on maki’s door. “come in,” maki answers. 

from off screen, you hear oikawa mumble something. it’s quiet. you’re not sure you could’ve made it out if you hadn’t previously spent so much time with oikawa. “hajime wants to go to the diner to get food, get dressed.” 

“alright, alright, i’m just gonna say bye to yn,” maki says, sitting up in his bed. 

there’s a loud squeak of the mattress as oikawa jumps on the bed, you assume. “yn! how is everything back there? making it by without us?”

“it’s been one day, guys,” you groan, jokingly. “but it’s good. i’m good.”

“yn hung out with atsumu last night,” maki says. it sounds like a tattle. 

oikawa tilts his head to the side, “last night?” he’s sporting a devious smile as he pounces on maki, both hands covering maki’s ears as he says hushed, “and how did it go?”

a blush rises to your cheeks at the whole spectacle. maki is trying to push oikawa off of him and oikawa, surely used to testing iwaizumi in the same ways, is able to hold his ground. “good, it went good!” you reply in a laugh.

“and? did anything happen?” 

“no! stop it!” you say, watching as maki finally throws oikawa off of him. 

“okay! okay!” oikawa has both of his hands up in defeat, sliding off of the bed and walking towards the door. “10 minutes, maki, we’re leaving in 10.” the door closes off screen.

maki shakes his head, slightly out of breath, “i gotta go, but i’ll talk to you later, okay? i’ll text you.”

you nod. “and i’ll see you sunday?” you ask.

he tilts his head, questioning, “it hasn’t even been a full day. kinda pathetic.”

“fine,” you say, calling his bluff.

“no! i’ll see you sunday, loser,” he says quickly, “god, let me make fun of you for being obsessed with me once in a while.”

you can’t stop smiling. “alright, alright. see you sunday, maki. can’t wait.”

“can’t wait,” he repeats and then hangs up.

&lt; 11:21 pm < have a good day ♡

> maki ♡ / 11:21 pm > you too ♡

/++/

you’ve forgone yours and atsumu’s lawn blanket set up as per his request, which you weren’t really expecting. after the events of last night, you assumed he might want to have the space to be close to you. maybe not. 

you didn’t ask questions, just chose a familiar picnic table and sat on the side that you knew you could watch atsumu approach from. 

and you do, eyes on him as he walks towards you. he cuts through the lawn, deviating from the concrete path, throwing a smile your way when he recognizes that you’re watching him. 

“yknow it’s almost getting too cold to keep sitting out here,” you say as he approaches, gesturing to your spot on the lawn. your spot. you cross your arms over one another, shivering slightly. fall is settling in, the semester more over than it is started.

he walks around to your side of the bench and sits beside you. you’re not sure if he’s doing this on purpose, making you feel this flustered. when he takes his jacket off, the same one that you met him in, the same one that was hanging on the back of his chair last night, and presents it in front of you, you know that he must be doing this on purpose. 

“are you really giving me your jacket right now?” you ask, mind screaming at you to just grab it. “we’re not in a cheesy rom-com.”

“are ya cold or not?” he asks, extending it a bit further. 

“yes,” you mutter, grabbing it from him and sliding it on. “thank you, tsumu.” you’re enveloped with him, soft fabric infused with his clean scent, and you’re not sure you’re going to give this back, so you hope it’s not that important to him. “it’s cute that your accent comes out when you’re short,” you point out. 

“shuddup,” he says, shaking his head. you scooch over closer to him, legs pressed together. he throws his arm around your shoulder, picks at your lunch, and you’re very aware at how much of a couple you look like right now. it’s quiet, peaceful.

he breaks the silence with a sentence that you’re confused by how he thought it was a good idea, “don’t be mad.”

you immediately face him, expression contorted into confusion and maybe a bit of anger for no reason other than what else are you supposed to feel when someone prefaces with that?

he explains, “i’ve been thinking about what you said last night and-“

“TSUM TSUM!!” 

you jump at the loud voice and nickname. you can’t locate the source so you swivel your head. you search for whoever is calling for atsumu while he continues to explain, “so maybe i told my friends that i think they could meet you and we were getting lunch today.”

“bo, come on, you said you’d be chill,” another voice, a different voice, says. 

“and maybe they didn’t even let me explain, just said they would be there and maybe were a bit too enthusiastic about it?” he shrugs.

you spot the source now, the same buff man from the selfie smiling at you wide and waving excessively. you offer a small wave back. 

“me? meet your friends?” you ask, shocked. you obviously were about to meet his friends. they were crossing the lawn as you spoke. 

“i meant it last night, i just didn’t know you wanted to meet them,” atsumu says plainly. “and if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me.” ba-bump. 

you nod, because you’re certain that if you tried to speak, your words would come out jumbled. 

the two men take a seat across from you. the man with black and white hair beams, “it’s so great to meet you finally. we told him, said she’d probably love to meet us, but i think he’s just been embarrassed about us or something.”

“yn, this is bokuto,” atsumu introduces you. 

“and i’m sakusa,” the man with black hair and curly hair says, introducing himself. 

“it’s really great to meet you both,” you offer.

“hinata is going to be so sad he missed this,” bokuto says, “missing out on finally meeting the girl tsum tsum’s been talking about for weeeeeeks.”

“that’s enough,” atsumu says, shaking his head as he uses his free hand to shake it in front of bokuto. 

“bo’s right,” sakusa reasons, “atsumu does talk about you a lot.”

“guys, see, this is exactly why i didn’t want you to meet her, god,” atsumu says, clearly embarrassed, not used to being on defense around you, not like this. 

bokuto and sakusa are just smiling. 

“she deserves to know,” sakusa reasons, gesturing towards you. 

“yea, i deserve to know,” you speak up. there’s a prideful smile on sakusa’s face.

“never letting you guys interact again,” atsumu shakes his head, scrapes his fingers against your hip in a way that almost makes you jump. you can hear the lightness in his voice and when you turn to look at him, you can see the smallest warm smile. 

“so how do you guys know tsumu?” you ask, nickname slipping out just on instinct. 

neither of them tease you for it explicitly, but they do exchange a knowing look. if you were closer to them you could decipher the hidden meaning of she said it. she said the name. 

“volleyball,” bokuto says, “we all met at volleyball. atsumu is our setter. but also now our best bud.”

“yknow, i don’t think i’ve actually ever asked anything about your volleyball stuff,” you say to atsumu, putting your hand on his knee. you’ve always just talked about it vaguely, no real details. 

“but he's the volleyball guy,” sakusa smirks. 

“no-,” atsumu says.

“yeah! that’s what that guy called you? right?” bokuto asks. atsumu is about to interrupt again, a last-ditch plea on his face, but bokuto doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore it, “maki.” your best friend’s name comes out of this stranger’s mouth in a mocking tone and oh my god atsumu talks shit about maki to his teammates/close friends.

there are a million ways you could react to this statement, stammering and stumbling over your words as you land on a sharp laugh. “i- you-,” you can’t stop laughing, “is that? does atsumu-.” you really can’t talk. 

“what?!” atsumu asks as if he has any room to be the one questioning you.

“you just,” tears are forming at the corners of your eyes as you lean into his shoulder, forehead against his jacketless skin, “fuckin- it got to you that badly?” you turn your attention towards bokuto, “is that how he said it?” 

bokuto, ever the betrayer of atsumu, nods his head. 

“quit it,” atsumu says, less shocked and embarrassed now, your laughter infecting him. “that’s how he said it.” there’s a smile behind the words, soft laughter coming along with it. when you don’t stop laughing for another few seconds, and then a few more, atsumu wraps his arms around you, smothering him in his strong arms. “yer being ridiculous.”

you push away from him and in between your fits of simmering down laughter, subsiding for only a few seconds at a time before picking back up again, you catch the smile on sakusa’s face that says so clearly that you can tell without knowing him at all, so this is why he can’t stop talking about you.

once you’ve finally composed yourself, you turn to sakusa and bokuto, “and you guys play?”

“we both play outside hitter,” sakusa explains, looking like he’s about to elaborate a bit further, but atsumu interrupts.

“since i’m the setter, that means that i’m kinda like the brains of the operation.”

“oh, fuck off, miya,” sakusa says, rolling his eyes. 

you laugh, “i know what a setter does.”

“how? we’ve never talked about it?”

“well, no, but i’ve seen maki play plenty of times,” you note, “oikawa’s a setter. maki and iwa play outside hitter. you didn’t know they played too?”

“oh my god, they’re both the volleyball guys,” sakusa comments, leaning back in his seat like he’s just had the biggest epiphany. 

“fuck off, omi,” atsumu sneers and then turns his attention back to you, “you never told me.”

you put your hands up, “i don’t know! i guess it just never came up.”

bokuto reaches out his arm, grabbing your forearm excitedly. “well, one day you’ll have to come watch us play, yn,” he says, smiling brightly at you. 

“i would really love that, actually. tsumu’s never invited me to one of his games before, so,” you say, shrugging. honestly, it had never been a thought on your mind before, a lot of things hadn’t been on your mind before, but now that you’re sitting here with his very fun friends, you really want to be a part of it all. a part of this side of his life, not the one that you’ve created and pulled him into, lunches and tiny meet ups and dragging him to the grocery store and having him babysit your plants, but whatever this is that’s making your chest feel so light. 

“or let you meet us,” sakusa chimes in. 

“yea, for good fuckin’ reason,” atsumu quips back.

“well, consider yourself officially invited to our next game,” bokuto nods, “here, give me your number and we can-.”

“no way,” atsumu interjects. 

you’re already reaching into your bag, pulling out your phone, ready to punch in bokuto’s phone number. 

“i really don’t need you guys to have more ways to talk shit about me,” atsumu says, but there’s no malice in the words. 

“i wasn’t going to talk shit about you, tsum tsum,” bokuto rolls his eyes, offering out his hand for you to drop your phone into. atsumu is skeptical as he lets you give your phone over to bokuto. as soon as his fingers curl around the phone, bokuto finishes his thought, “but there are plenty of cute photos of you that i have that don’t seem very fair for yn not to have.”

atsumu lunges forward to grab the phone out of bokuto’s hand, but bokuto pulls it back quickly. “bokkun, i swear to god,” atsumu says, standing up as best he can while still being inside of the bench. bokuto is already two steps ahead, springing from his seat, nearly hitting sakusa as he does. 

“watch it,” sakusa warns. 

bokuto is gone, running away as he presses buttons on your phone. atsumu is much more careful on his side, makes sure to unravel from you before stepping out of his seat. “i’m not kidding!” despite the head start bokuto acquired, atsumu is already almost on his heels. bokuto is laughing, head thrown back as he messes with your phone. 

sakusa takes this moment of chaos to talk to you directly. his voice pulls you out of this awestruck daze watching atsumu jump on bokuto’s back. “i can see why he talks about you all the time,” sakusa says lowly across the table as bokuto runs in circles with atsumu on his back as if he weighs nothing at all.

you’re feeling a bit more confident at this sentence, a bit more easily yourself, so you let it slip as you turn to face sakusa, joking as you say, “what? i’ve proven how cool i am in this tiny lunch?”

sakusa chuckles, breathy, before nodding affirmingly, “not exactly what i meant, but yes, that too.” he pauses, contemplating if the thing he’s about to say next is pushing a boundary, saying too much, figuring out how to phrase it before it actually comes out of his mouth. “i meant more that i understand why he talks about you all the time.”

you’re quiet, tilting your head curiously. 

he doesn’t let you sit on your thoughts, finishes his sentence right as bokuto and atsumu are running back towards the table, “because he’s really into you.”

you don’t get to respond, interrupted by bokuto hiding on one side of you, finishing whatever he’s doing on his phone before thrusting the phone back into your hands. he sticks his tongue out at atsumu and atsumu narrows his eyes. “atsumu’s just worried that he’s going to fuck up at our game when you’re there.”

this is all so cute, the bantering and the things that bokuto is saying, but you have so many fucking questions. you want them to run back over there for hours so that you can have a long, in-depth conversation with sakusa about what exactly he fucking means. 

you don’t want to seem unresponsive or like you can’t keep up, so you reply, “maybe i’ll bring maki along and he can show off like he always does.” you almost regret it, but sakusa and bokuto start laughing just like you were laughing earlier and bokuto is slamming his fist on the table and atsumu doesn’t look hurt at all, he looks amiable. 

you turn your head towards atsumu, the laughter allowing you cover to speak just for him, “or i’ll just go and cheer you on. if you’ll have me there.” atsumu gives you a short, affectionate nod. 

sakusa and bokuto leave about a half hour (that’s spent mostly making fun of atsumu the entire time) after that, saying that they’ll see you again soon, they’re sure, and waving as they leave. as soon as they’re out of earshot, atsumu lets out a huge breath. 

“i told you,” he says, shaking his head, body finally relaxed in a way that makes you realized he was tense the entire time. “i told you that they were fucking weird.”

“they’re not weird, they’re sweet,” you say back. there is a certain peacefulness now that you assume only exists because of the huge absence of noise. it’s not better, just more familiar. you slot your fingers into atsumu’s, holding onto his forearm with your other hand. 

“yea, if you’re not on the other side of all of their bullshit,” atsumu shakes his head. 

“maybe if you didn’t talk about me so much,” you tease.

“don’t let it go to your head,” he says, lifting his arm that you don’t have a hold of and tapping on your forehead. you press your forehead into him, laughing. 

the two of you sit together for another few hours, pulling work out of your bags that neither of you really focus on. you mostly spend the time cracking jokes at the other’s expense or for the other to laugh at and finding new ways to get tangled into each other on a picnic table bench until it’s time to leave.

“i’ll see you sometime tomorrow, yeah?” you ask, moving around school work and responsibilities and seeing maki in your head to make room for atsumu in your day.

he leans forward, presses the quickest, smallest kiss into the side of your cheek, “obviously.” as he leaves, the warmth stays, on your cheek and down your chest, through your fingers and toes. partially because of the kiss, sure, but mostly because of the hoodie he’s entrusted in your care. 

/++/

you are both so excited for and dreading your night alone.  you are excited because it’s been awhile since you’ve just had some time in your room by yourself. you are welcoming the extra time to catch up on assignments and take a shower and not do anything else that requires thinking. 

you are, however, despite all of this, mostly filled with dread. saturday night is a staple miya atsumu hookup night. last week it was fine, the week before that, sure, whatever, but after last night, the thought of atsumu hooking up with some random girl that he found out at a party is bringing back a familiarly upset stomach. if you hadn’t had spent the night last night as you did, a taboo listening session might even have been in the stars tonight, would have been maybe really welcomed. 

but now you’ve slept in his bed. you’ve been in his arms. you’ve been on the other side of the wall. there are memories attached to this vision of him now. when you close your eyes, you can see his room so clearly. if you had to think about them in his bed, the one that you felt safe cuddled next to him in, the one where he told you about all of his childhood friends, if you had to think of her on his pillow instead of you? 

you take a deep breath, closing your eyes. you will have a great night all by yourself even if that means sleeping on the farside of your room and using your noise canceling headphones at full volume.

the later it gets into the night, the more antsy you’re getting. hours are ticking by and you have never been this productive in your life, assignment after assignment finished just to stop yourself from thinking for longer than a few seconds. you won’t have to worry about school work for the next few weeks. 

it’s nearly 1 am by the time that you’ve finished all of the work that you possibly can, which, in hindsight, was such a horrible idea. finishing all of your work before the 1-3 am time of the night? 

well, maybe if you’re just not in your room when he gets back, you can just put your headphones on and not have to think about it at all tonight. you grab a change of clothes, your towel, all of your bathroom essentials, and make your way to dorm showers at the other end of the hall. 

your shower takes much longer than it should because you make sure that it does, but somewhere along the way you must have pissed someone off, something from your past must be coming back to haunt you because instead of timing it perfectly to miss him completely, you’ve timed it perfectly to catch him completely. 

he’s all dressed up, hair perfectly done in a way that begs to be messed up, stupidly cute outfit, something plain but looks insanely good on him, enough cologne to fill the entire hallway, and, only when he sees you walking down the hallway, a huge smile on his face. 

you feel extremely underdressed, walking up to him. partially on account of the fact that you are wearing a huge tshirt, underwear, and absolutely nothing else. you don’t know if he’s already been drinking, if he doesn’t notice, or if he doesn’t care, but his eyes follow down your body slowly. 

every single moment in your life has happened because of a culmination of things; this is just a fact. everything that has happened in your life up until this moment has built up to this moment, that’s how living works. you knew this. 

but god you wish you could see a chart, could zoom in on every single point that had a hand in this moment and alter them in some sort of way that wouldn’t have caused you to say what comes out of your mouth. 

you look down at your phone screen, checking the time. “woah, you hung out with me on friday and no company tonight?” you ask as you step around him and in front of your door. why would you say that. 

you know why, vaguely, not completely. you’re not completely sure why you chose to essentially divulge the biggest secret you’re harbored of your entire college career in one sentence, but you know that it had something to do with how flustered you were in that moment, how good atsumu looks in front of you, and maybe the fact that it’s all you’ve been able to think about tonight.

it slips out, really, no barrier of judgment. you guys have been friends for too long. the quips and the teasing come so naturally now that you can’t help it. 

this is the first time that you’re admitting this to him. your heart is pounding as you wait for him to respond. he’s not responding quick enough. you hope that he just doesn’t clock it, doesn’t understand the implications of the joke.

he furrows his eyebrows together, stopping completely, “what?”

your body is burning. how do you backtrack from this. where do you go from here.

when you don’t answer immediately, his mind starts filling in the blanks, and he starts asking more questions, “company?”

“yea, like,” you clear your throat, shifting your towel under your arm, “y’know saturday nights and company.”

he turns to face you completely and you feel like this is your first time meeting him. you feel small, tiny, chest aching because of the violence of your heart. even more so when you see the embarrassment creeping onto his face. “how would you know if i have company?”

this is it. the fucking moment. it’s been over 4 months. the two of you have lived next to each other for nearly an entire semester. you went 2 months without even knowing him, 1 month with fixing all of your previously conceived notions, and this past month falling for him and it’s all about to go crashing down because of a stupid joke you’ve made. 

“you weren’t exactly subtle about it,” you answer and you’re amazed at how your voice is actually audible. 

a lot of things click for atsumu in that moment, you can see it on his face. 

“you heard that?” he asks, quietly stunned.

“all of it,” you answer.

it’s quiet for a moment. you can’t even hear the hum of the lights or the beat of your own heart as you wait for his reaction to the admission. 

“fuck,” atsumu says, palm smoothing over his face, “god, i can’t recover from that at all can i? holy shit.” he doesn’t ask why you didn’t tell him. he doesn’t look put off or uncomfortable. “holy shit. okay. well, fuck.”

you’re about to apologize when he shakes his head, fingers pushing through his hair. you can’t exactly read whatever emotion is there, maybe panic? you can’t get a good read because it’s gone soon thereafter. 

“no,” he says slowly, “i don’t have company tonight. was going to go out and drink with some friends, but i left my ID in my room.” he gestures to the keys in his hand, knuckles white around them. “you still alone this weekend?”

you nod, not really knowing what to do, where to go from here still. he’s not being weird. he’s trying to resume conversation with you, but something feels off. you want to say, “yea, i said i’d be alone all weekend, don’t you listen?” but any joke that comes to you feels too harsh, too out of place, terrified that it’ll end up an admission of something else.

“do you want-,” he begins to ask, but you shake your head so hard that you’re convinced you shake water droplets out of your hair and onto him. 

“no, no, are you kidding? i look like this,” you gesture down.

atsumu looks like he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. fuck. you’ve really ruined things now. 

“go out with your friends,” you say, nodding your head down to the elevators. 

“we don’t have to go out,” atsumu adds.

“i’m not keeping you in on the weekend again,” you say, shifting your weight. “seriously, i’m okay alone tonight, you go on out.”

“do you want to drink?” he asks, persistent as always.

“tsumu, i told you, i’m not going out tonight,” you say. the nickname is muscle memory at this point and you’re glad that at least you have some sort of remnants of a few minutes ago. 

“just, here, we can drink here,” he gestures to his dorm room. you feel like a fucking freshman again. “if you don’t want to drink, that’s cool. i just-” he hesitates. it looks more difficult than it ever has, but he steps towards you and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “it feels weird for the first time between us and i don’t think i can leave if you’re not feeling okay,” he finishes, overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be, and you feel so horrible.

“tsumu-,” you start, but he isn’t having any of it.

“i’m serious.”

“one drink,” you say, “and then you go out with your friends.”

/++/

the thing about one drink is that nobody really has one drink. 

or, rather, you do at first and then you have another because the guy that you’re really into is in front of you, telling joke after joke trying to make you feel better about your relationship because you’ve just admitted that you’ve heard him having sex all semester.

and unfortunately for you and your self-deprecation, the guy that you’re really into is really good at making you feel better, not just with jokes and compliments, but with soft touches and genuine smiles. 

“i can’t believe you’re staying in with me when you look like that,” you say, shaking your head. you didn’t even have time to change, are still in the same post-shower outfit that you were before. 

“come on, you look better than i do,” he says, shaking his head, taking a sip of his drink and gesturing to you with his cup.

you’re sitting on his floor because the bed was a bit much after the painful conversation you had in the hallway. he’s sitting in front of you, back against his desk, as he sets his drink on the floor beside him. you let yourself flush, accept his compliment if only to fasttrack back to how it felt between the two of you before. 

the thing about more than one drink is that nobody really chooses a stopping point, not when the awkwardness has faded and the guy that you’re really into continues to stay the night with you. and definitely not when said guy has taken root next to you, pressed up against you completely. 

“fuck,” he shakes his head out of nowhere. he doesn’t even give you an opportunity to ask what, just repeats himself, louder, “fuck.”

“what?” you ask, turning to look at him, but not moving a single inch away from him.

“i can’t believe you heard all of that,” he says, shaking his head against the side of the bed. he laughs lightly, unbelievably. “that’s really just so embarrassing.”

for the first time tonight, at the mere mention of it, you don’t want to crawl into your room and cry. you’re not sure what exactly it is (it’s the alcohol), but you laugh with him, light at first, and then growing until you’re shaking your head. it is actually kinda funny. 

“it was funny at first, honestly,” you tell him, “i was like oh my god?? and then it progressively got, yknow, not as funny when i had morning classes and exams.”

“is that why we didn’t meet for the first two months of living next to each other?” he asks, turning his head to look at you. and he does, look at you, stares into your eyes with the amount of focus that someone as drunk as the two of you should not have been able to do.

“not really, more like a gift from god,” you say.

“hey,” he whines.

“yea, that night we met i was coming back from maki’s because i couldn’t take it anymore,” you admit to him. you can see the embarrassment settle in even heavier than before, a remorse coming alongside it. after all this time, you really didn’t mean for him to feel bad about it. “you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“i mean, that’s so- i can’t believe-,” he stammers. you’re not used to seeing him like this and you understand why he had to have at least one drink with you before going out, because right now atsumu is feeling exactly how you felt out in the hallway and all you want to do is fix that.

even if it is at your own expense. 

“it’s fine, really, it’s fine,” you say, “it was funny at first, and then annoying, but i mean, eventually-” don’t you fucking dare “eventually it was good for me too.” stop fucking talking.

now he looks really confused and if you don’t explain no fucking stop he’s going to be even more weirded out. 

“well, i just mean, like,” you shrug, “like eventually i started to enjoy it.” shut the fuck up. 

he chooses his next words carefully, or as carefully as he can when the room is slightly moving. “like how?”

don’t say a fucking word. “like listening,” you admit. even in your drunken state, your stomach does flips. 

his face still has tiny elements of confusion, but most of it morphs into something much needier than that. “to me?”

you nod, movements barely noticeable but they’re making your head spin. the air is still, room quiet save for both of your quickened breathing. then, the only thing you can see is his hand, moving so slowly that you assume he’s afraid he’ll scare you off. he reaches across you, cups your cheek and pulls you to face him. when you’re looking at him, he doesn’t move his hand. 

he leans in towards you and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol in your body or the fact that an hour ago you were terrified that you would never be able to be in this room again, but you lean forward to meet him. he stops, just shy of your lips, talking so low that you can feel the vibrations against your lips. “and doing what?” he asks.

the whimper comes from your throat, lips tightly shut so it doesn’t have a chance to escape you. you lean forward further, pressing your forehead against his as his hand slides down your cheek to your jaw, fingers spanning your neck, curling softly so that his nails drag against your sensitive skin. you can feel it in your entire body. 

he lowers his head, nudges your chin with his nose, pushing your head further into his hand, exposing your neck. “can i?” he asks, breath tickling as he speaks. you’re not sure if he realistically thought you would deny him right now of anything that he wanted, really. you nod softly, not wanting to break out of his grasp.

the first thing that you feel are his teeth, scraping against the softness of your neck. and then you feel his lips closing around the skin. you close your eyes, no point in keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling, anyway. atsumu licks a strip up your neck before moving down again. he uses his free hand to pull at the neckline of your shirt, exposing your collarbones. he wraps his lips around the bone, sucking repetitively until you’re positive that there’s purplish marks wherever he picks his head up from.

his moves his hand from your jaw, trust you to keep the position that he’s moved you into, and you do. he rewards you for this, both hands smoothing down your body, following your curves, digging into them as he pleases, latheing his tongue over the same spots on your neck and chest. 

“tsumu,” you whine, not really sure for what, but just for more. his hands are on your thighs now, his fingernails pressing harshly into the fats of them before sliding upwards underneath the hem of your shirt. he can feel your skin in his hands now, can’t get enough of it as he moves his hands everywhere and anywhere he can. 

when he gets to your chest, takes both of your perfectly soft tits into his hand, you hear him stifle a grunt. he moves one hand quickly, grabbing at your hip, sliding down from your waist, pulling you towards him, facing towards him so that he can feel you again, so that he can play with your tits better. his touch is harsher this time, more desperate, more purposeful as he goes straight for your tits, no longer ghosting over your skin, but aching for your heavy tits to be in his hands. 

god, he can only imagine what they fucking look like all pretty and bouncing for him. fuck he needs to see them.

he pulls away from you, sits up from against the bed, moves in front of you. he’s on his knees, towering above you in your seated position. you’re looking up into his eyes, whimpers falling from your quivering lips. he cups your face again. you’re ready. you’re completely ready to recall every little thing that you have heard over the past month. you know atsumu, you know exactly what he likes, and you’re going to blow his fucking mind. 

knock knock knock.

just before his lips can touch yours, there’s a pounding knock on his door. 

“no fucking way,” atsumu says under his breath. 

“miya atsumu, get your ass out here now or i’m breaking down the fucking door.” knock knock knock knock knock knock. it's almost scary until you hear laughter from the hallway, snickering at first and then boisterous. 

“come on, i don’t even interrupt,” you say to atsumu, looking towards the door. 

knock knock knock knock knock knock. “we know you’re in there.”

“they’re not going to leave it alone until i answer,” he says, defeated, “i have to answer and then- then i’ll be right back and-.”

“atsumu, you have 10 seconds and i’m gonna start ramming,” the voice says.

atsumu scurries up from the floor, walking quickly over to the door as you adjust yourself, smoothing out your oversized tshirt and patting your hair. “what?” he hisses as he cracks the door open. the person on the other side of the door pushes it open completely. 

“we’re going out,” one voice says.

“another night,” atsumu says, the door already closing.

“i’m not leaving without you,” another voice replies, not pushing the door back open. 

“and i’m not leaving,” atsumu says, and you can tell he’s getting impatient now. 

from your spot on the floor, you recognize one of them as a guy from one of the photos. dark hair, carefree attitude. suna? you can’t remember exactly if you’ve gotten the name right. you’re surprised that you’ve even noticed the person at all. you don’t recognize any of the other two guys that are with him.

one of them, not suna, makes eye contact with you for the tiniest fraction of a second, “you literally have any other day to hookup with some chick.” you wonder if he thinks they’re being quiet. your cheeks burn. you want to be back in your room now. 

“it’s not like that,” ba-bump, he says, trying to quiet them a bit or at least just bringing his own volume down. 

“doesn’t matter,” one of them says.

“i didn’t want to spoil it, but,” suna says, “samu’s here.”

atsumu gets quiet for a second, really mulling over the weight of everything that’s happening, at the two sides that are pulling him in different directions. “samu’s here?”

“yeah, he was supposed to be here earlier, but his train got in super late and so he just got here and he wants to go out because it’s a saturday night. it was supposed to be a surprise or whatever, but you’re not listening to me, your best friend, and just leaving now. so that’s what you get,” suna spews.

“but i-,” atsumu says, instinctively looking back towards you. the look that you’re wearing almost makes him stay. “fuck.” he slams the door on the trio of guys and you are so grateful. you finally feel like you can breathe, can relax just the tiniest bit. he walks back over to you. “i’ve gotta-.”

you push yourself up from off of the ground, stumbling a little bit as atsumu helps you back onto your feet. “you don’t have to explain yourself, tsumu, go hang out with your friends.”

“if samu wasn’t here, i wouldn’t-.”

“i know,” you say. and it’s the truth. you 100% fully believe him with all of your heart. 

“you could go out with us,” he offers.

you’re not sure that you could handle being referred to as some chick all night or atsumu’s side piece or looked at like you’d never be looked at again. you weren’t ready for a miya atsumu night out and definitely not when you’re already feeling it as much as you are. you shake your head. “you go and have fun, see your brother.”

he looks so torn, so frantic as he tries to think out the rest of his night, how to get drunk you back to your dorm without having to expose you to the people in the hallway. “i’m probably going to stay with rin and samu tonight anyway. do you want to just stay here and maybe,” he hesitates, the knocking starts again, “you can meet my brother in the morning?”

“really?” you ask. 

knock knock knock knock. “it’s literally so getting so fucking late. hurry your ass up.”

atsumu helps you into his bed in not exactly the way he wanted to help you into bed tonight. “yes,” he answers, pulling the blankets over you, the softness of them so familiar. “and samu will love you and you will love him unfortunately.” atsumu reaches down and kisses your cheek. somehow it has you more flustered than anything that’s happened tonight. “tomorrow, okay?”

you nod. 

he moves quickly after he’s noticed how content you are, throwing on his shoes, grabbing his ID from his desk, muttering under his breath things that you’re not sure are meant for you. fucking kidding me now? gonna beat the shit out of him for fucking i can’t fucking. 

“goodnight, yn,” he says, reaching for the door, but not opening until you’ve said it back.

“goodnight, tsumu.”

you hear a click of the door, your eyes closing softly. and then you hear the voices. 

“you’re seriously leaving her in there?”

“guys- seriously,” atsumu says, trying to stop the questions about what was happening in the room before they showed up.

“why’re you leavin’ a one night stand in your-”

“i said it wasn’t fucking like that. leave it,” atsumu says through gritted teeth. you hear the lock click.

“no fucking way. that was fucking her wasnt it?” suna asks.

“stop, she can fucking hear you, the walls are thin,” atsumu snaps. 

you listen for the footsteps as they get quieter and quieter until you can’t hear any at all. you know you should be tired. you are tired, but you’re also in atsumu’s bed all alone. your eyelids are heavy and your breathing is slow and-

you reach your hand down between your legs. 

with the scenes that are playing in your mind, you’re almost sure you could make yourself come with one tiny finger. you spread your lips apart with two fingers, sliding your middle finger down your drenched slit. you push the tip of your finger against your hole, head tilting back messily into his pillow. 

he barely did anything to you at all, felt you up and kissed your neck, and you are soaking wet. your mind won’t stop wandering at where the night could have taken you if you weren’t interrupted. how deep he would be inside of you right now if you hadn’t been interrupted. at that thought, you plunge your fingers inside of you, moaning at how good they feel, but they’re not enough.

you’re missing your dildo, your fingers can’t reach deep enough, not even as you shove another finger in and circle your hips on them. you make the mistake of kneading at your tit, but it only leaves you missing the feeling of his huge hands grabbing at them. you’re feeling so fucking needy. it’s not enough that you’re doing this in his bed, you need to be doing it for him. you roll your hips against your fingers.

your clit rubs against the rough texture of the blanket and you almost come on the spot. “fuck,” you say aloud. you take your other hand on the outside of the blanket and push the fabric in between your legs, circling your hips against it. “mm fuck, tsumu.”

the blanket feels so good against you. he’s slept underneath these blankets, has probably jacked off to the thought of you underneath these blankets “fuck!” you say louder. you know exactly how loud you’re being, but you also know that no one that you care about is around to hear them. 

your hands search around the bed. you don’t have time to feel any regret. it feels so good, you’re chasing this high, so fucking close. your skin feels like it’s crawling, aching. you fucking need this. you throw the blanket off of you, take your panties off and throw them across the room somewhere that you’re sure you will regret when you have to get them in the morning, but you need to feel it completely against your swollen lips and pretty clit. 

you take the pillow that’s underneath your head and shove it between your legs. you press down on the soft pillow as hard as you can to get as much friction as you can as you fuck your clit into fabric that smells so fucking much like atsumu. you’re drenched, sloppy against his pillow but you can’t stop. your fingers grip into the cushion, his name falling off of your tongue like an unheard prayer. 

“please, so close, so close,” you say, thrusting your hips against the pillowcase faster. you’re going to come. you’re going to fucking come on the pillow that he’s going to sleep on. “oh my fucking god,” you cry and you let yourself go, flooding as you come against his pillow. you can feel the mess that you’ve made smearing against the textured fabric.you can’t move. your bones feel like they’ve been replaced with bricks, but you need to see it. you pull the pillow up, your eyes instantly drawn to the large wet spot right in the center. fuck. you throb, so painfully empty. “fuck,” you mutter to yourself and put the pillow back between your legs, “not enough.”

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[morganbritton132]

Eddie starts a live stream in his studio like, “I got banished to the basement for stepping on a recently mopped floor.“

He starts out answering questions he sees in the chat but eventually grows tired of that and starts messing around with his guitar. An hour into it, long after Eddie’s forgotten about the live stream, Steve comes down. Eddie honestly thinks he’s going to start reorganizing his record collection or something so he’s a bit surprise when Steve pulls the guitar out of his hand and replaces it with himself.

Eddie is never one to complain about having a lap full of Steve Harrington, especially when he kisses his neck like that, “Sorry I called you a freak.”

Eddie, for some fucking reason: Wanna talk about that other thing you said?

Steve: Not really

Eddie, with a sigh: Unfortunately, I do…. You haven’t spoken to your mother in twenty years

Steve, pulling back: Not true! We spoke at my dad’s funeral

Eddie: So, twenty-three years then? You’re getting yourself all worked up about something that’s probably not going to happen and then you’re going to be upset all weekend.

Steve: It’s different this time

Eddie: How? Did you call her?

Steve: I wrote her a letter

Eddie:

Steve: Shut up, she doesn’t answer the phone. And- she’ll like it. Will helped me with it

Eddie: So, Will knew you were setting yourself up for failure?

Eddie, realizing that was a little harsh: Look, I’m just saying. Let’s be realistic, babe

Steve, climbing out of Eddie’s lap to get up but Eddie grabs his hand before he can run off: You don’t get it, Eddie. You have Wayne

Eddie: So do you! You have Hopper and Joyce, and Claudia. Those are the people that have been there and that love you. We lived in the same town as your mom for years and she couldn’t even go to your appointments

Steve: She let me stay-

Eddie: On their insurance? You have given that woman a lot of mileage out of the bare minimum, Steve. She didn’t work extra shifts to help pay for your medication, Wayne did. She didn’t get you an appointment with that fancy doctor in Indianapolis, Hopper did. They were more of a parent to you than your mother ever-

Steve: But they’re not my mom, Eddie! I want my mom, okay? She wasn’t always like that, she-

Eddie: She’s been like that for thirty fucking years, Steve

Steve: I thought I was going to die. I was pretty damn sure that my brain was full of holes and I was going to die a month ago. I kept thinking that I’m going to die and she going to go to a funeral for a complete stranger, and I-

Eddie, realizing that he never ended his live stream and knocking his phone over so the screen goes black: Stop talking

Steve: What?

Eddie: I think we both need to cool off. You should - you should get ready for bed. I’ll be up there in a second.

It takes a second before you hear Steve say whatever and leave the room. It’s followed by Eddie whispering ‘fuck’ to himself before the live stream ends.

#did someone call for angst? #eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

[backtotheshitshow]

Wood & Words (part 3)

Woodworker! James Potter X Princess!reader

Warning: ANGST!! Like ugh I wrote it and I’m tearing up. Kinda proof read. Also this is like a long one so…enjoy.

Part1 part2

A small knock caught James’ attention as he was cutting down the legs for a stool.

He immediately stoped what he was doing and truned to the door.

“You’re late.” He said with a smile.

“I didn’t realise i had a preset time to be here.” Y/n laughed.

“No but you’re usually here before nine..” James explained.

“I’m sorry I was with my mother.” Y/n said stepping into the wood shed.

“It’s alright I’m only teasing.” James laughed, he took a quick glance at her while he measured the stool leg. She was wearing a different type of dress today, not the same neckline she tended to favour.

He couldn’t help but take notice of how soft her collarbone and neck looked, and wonder how it might look if he were to simply grab her and leave a few small love marks.

“You seem in a good mood this morning. May I ask why?” Y/n sat herself against a barrel set near James’ work bench.

“Am I not allowed to be happy.?” He turned to her, trying to push away his inappropriate thoughts.

“Oh no. I much prefer the grumpy tradesman persona you have going on. Quite mysterious I would say.” She grinned, as she was taking in how he looked in the morning light she noticed a bandage on his hand. A medium sized patch of red had soaked through.

James began to speak. “I know you think your joking but I know that you-“

“You’re hurt.” She said immediately walking over to him and taking his hand gently, to examine it.

“Oh ah just a mishap with a saw. I’ll be fine.” He said looking down at her with a small smile, she looked adorable with her eyebrows scrunched together with concern. That fact that she was concerned about him made it all the more pleasant.

She didn’t trust that he was being completely honest about the severity of his injury.

“May I see.” She said looking up at him. He wanted to protest and tell her that it was simply and occupational hazard but the look in her eyes was begging him to let her take care of it and who was he to deny the princess of what she wanted.

He nodded allowing her to unravel the bandage.

James’s expression softened as his breath caught in his throat. His face flushed, as he stood still, letting her inspect it.

His expression was almost apologetic, as if her concern was misplaced.

“Really it’s nothing.” He muttered, in the past he would have simply just refused her help all together. But now he was in too deep, this woman had a hold on him, and his mind was telling him to let her have whatever she asked for.

She let out a quiet gasp when she laid eyes on the wound.

“Surely this must be painful, why haven’t you taken care of this properly?” She seemed upset at him for having such little concern for his on wellbeing.

James shifted slightly, embarrassed at her visible concern.

"It's fine, really," he lied as his cheeks grew hotter. James had never been one to complain, and he couldn't stand how upset she was... she was so cute.

He was so used to taking care of himself, so he rarely asked for help. Now he felt his resolve crumbling under this woman's concerned gaze, her gentle words and her soft hands.

“Sit down.” She said nudging him towards the barrel she previously sat on.

James hesitated, his face telling her that he knew he should, but his stubborn nature getting in the way. Eventually he acquiesced to her soft demand, plopping down on the barrel and letting out a sigh.

Y/n grabbed a rag that looked somewhat clean, and walked to the sink in the small part of the wood shed that look like a very old kitchen, running the rag under some warm water.

She can back over. “It’s very careless of you to leave such a deep cut without cleaning it. Do you have no regard for your health?”

James didn’t answer he looked away embarrassed about how angry she seemed at him for ignoring his own needs.

As she took care to clean the wound, James just sat there, staring at her, mesmerized by her every movement. She was so soft and delicate, handling him without force.

She was just about finished wrapping the wound when she noticed his staring and stopped. She couldn’t move under his intense gaze.

“Just…be more considerate of yourself please.” She said in a soft tone as she slowly lost herself in his eyes.

Y/n didn’t know what came over her, she as never this bold, but in all fairness she never did think to straight when he was looking at her.

She kissed him.

James's heart skipped a few beats as the Princess's lips pressed against his.

He'd been thinking about how pretty she was, being lost in her eyes for a split second before the sweet caress of her lips caught him by surprise.

He'd never been one to receive affection, at least not for years now, and certainly not this quickly and unexpectedly. His mind was a dizzying combination of shock, confusion and elation.

“I….i shall see you tomorrow.” She whispered and before James knew it she was gone.

……..

The following day James waited patiently for the princess’s arrival trying to keep himself busy.

It began to get late. James had spent the day organising the shed and sweeping sawdust. He was beginning to get tired.

After the kiss they shared the precious day it was hard for him to get a good nights sleep.

By the time she arrived the sun had already settled behind the horizon, leaving the shed only lit by lanterns here and there.

“Why have you come so late?” James asked. He noted that she was not in her usual bubbly mood the expression on her face looked almost ashamed.

She ignored his question

“I’ve come to apologise James. My actions yesterday were inappropriate.” She said stopping at the door.

James couldn't contain his shock. Was her kiss really a mistake?

"W-what did you say??" he replied. To him it had been a beautiful and romantic gesture, perhaps even a sign that she felt something for him.

But maybe his judgment had been clouded and now she was telling him she'd made a mistake. James felt his heart drop.

“Yesterday when..I kissed you. I’ve given it some thought over night and It was entirely inappropriate and improper. I hope you forgive me.” She looked away ashamed of herself.

James was speechless. He had been expecting an entirely different response. He had thought she felt some sort of attraction towards him and the way her eyes had blazed in the sunlight when they’d kissed had been beautiful and he’d been hoping to do it again.

But it seemed the whole thing was a mistake– a spur of the moment thing she’d probably thought about too late.

“W-wait, you’re sorry we kissed?”

“I…yes I. It was wrong of me to do so.”

James sat stunned for several moments as he processed what she’d said. Was she truly ashamed of kissing him? His eyes narrowed as his stomach dropped in disappointment.

Perhaps she had thought about the kiss afterward and then realized he wasn’t someone she was that attracted to. Was he not someone she found desirable? He bit his lip and felt a pang of sadness he hid behind a wall of anger.

“You wish we hadn’t shared that kiss?”

“That’s- not what I’m saying.”

James narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow. Why was she backtracking if that wasn’t what she’d meant? What had she meant then?

James’s thoughts raced as he tried to read between the lines, trying to guess what it was that she was trying to get at.

“But did you… Did you enjoy it? Did you not like the kiss?!”

“I did, yes of course I did…but it was clearly inappropriate….im sorry I put you in such an uncomfortable situation. Please do not be kind for my sake.” She noticed James seemed to be getting quite upset.

James was taken aback and couldn't help but grimace at her last statement. She didn't want him to be 'kind' to her?

Did she honestly think he was just being kind? He was beginning to grow irritated at her insistence on claiming the kiss was inappropriate.

"What's the matter? Am I not someone worthy of that kind of affection?" He said.

“Oh course you are! I’m simply saying I shouldn’t have put in a situation like that.” She explained.

James's eyebrows furrowed and he felt himself grow angry and frustrated. He couldn't understand why she was so insistent on claiming she was the one at fault. James raised his voice in exasperation.

"I'm not a child! I can make my own decisions about what situations I feel I am or am not comfortable in and you shouldn't be the one deciding such things for me!"

Y/n was shocked at his outburst.

“I’m sorry. I just…..,excuse me” she turned around quickly as she blinked back a tear or two..

The way she was abruptly leaving now was angering James even more. What was she thinking? He felt his emotions boiling over and could not let her leave like this.

"No, you're not getting away that easily." *James grabbed her by the wrist firmly.

"You're not going to just leave and ignore this. You're going to hear me out."

James took a deep breath and tried to rein himself in. He was still seething with anger but knew that yelling more was only going to make the situation worse. He loosened his grip on her wrist.

"Look, I just don't understand why you're claiming it was inappropriate. We're two adults. We're capable of deciding what is appropriate and inappropriate ourselves.

You say you enjoyed it, so I don't see why you're so adamant on telling me it was somehow a mistake or inappropriate." He looked at her with pained eyes.

“Do you not think I am aware that you only tolerate my company due myself being the princess! I may seem bit ditsy but I’m not stupid!”

James's eyes widened and he shook his head furiously. The Princess didn't believe that he actually liked her?

He thought that the Princess was adorable, witty and intelligent and he'd never felt quite this way about anyone before.

To hear she thought he didn't enjoy spending time with her was painful.

"That's not true! I love spending time with you! I enjoy you like I've never enjoyed anyone else before! How in gods name could you think that?!"

Tear began to well in the princess eyes. She was angry and confused and James was yelling at her. She didn’t like him yelling at her.

“I-I-Idon’t know I just thought ….I’m sorry.” A small crack in her voice came at the end of her sentence.

James's eyes widened as he saw the hint of moisture in her eyes. He felt so bad for having snapped at her like that and suddenly his anger melted away to concern. He felt a sudden overwhelming urge to comfort and protect this beautiful girl. The thought of seeing tears in her eyes was unbearable. He moved closer to her and lifted his hand to brush away the wetness in her eyes.

At his touch, James felt his anger and frustration melt away. How could he stay mad at such a delicate and vulnerable girl? Her beauty was truly astonishing but now James realised she was much more than that.

She was also emotional and he could see exactly what she was feeling on her face. She was sensitive and kind despite her title and her beauty and that was more than enough reason for him to want to protect her. He wished she'd realize her worth.

“I-I should be going.” She said

James felt a sudden rush of emotion he didn't know how to handle. But he did not want to let her leave like this. He didn't want her to think he was just being kind to her. The Princess was so wrong about her own self worth and he just could not let her leave thinking that.

“No. You're not going anywhere.” James said firmly and with conviction, wrapping his are around her waist.

to be continued

———-

If you thought this had drama. Just you wait…,*evil laugh*

Taglist:

@valenftcrush

#james potter #marauders #james potter angst #james potter imagine #james potter x reader #james potter au #james potter x y/n #james potter x shy!reader

[lunaroserites]

Art and Ice

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: This might a 2 or 3 parter. College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that troupe and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing I think, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Derogatory use of the word puck bunny. Bucky is a playboy. There is not interaction be MC and Bucky quite yet.

Word Court: 1935

Likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

“I don’t know what to do,” you groaned as you threw your head back against the worn couch. 

“I want the project to focus on movement, but lifelike movement. Human movement.” You mocked your professor. It not being nature themed had to be a jab just for you. All your projects were nature related or still motion. 

“Professor Grace wasn’t targeting you,” Wanda said, letting out a chuckle at your dramatics. 

“Are you sure you’re not a drama major?” Pietro laughed as he threw a butter packet at you. 

“You two are the worst,” you sighed as you threw your arm over your eyes. Twins, why did my best friends have to be twins. The world is cruel, your thoughts drift.

“Why don’t you come to the track and draw me?” Pietro wiggled his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes in response.  

“Eh,” you sighed. You didn’t want a solution at the moment. You just wanted to complain. 

“She just wants to vent guys,” Natasha said as she came through the door holding a couple bags of takeout and a box of wine. “And I doubt she wants to see you and the rest of the track team in those tiny little running shorts you call clothing,” she sassed at Pietro. He just laughed, and stuck a pose with his leg up on the bar stool next to the island counter causing you all to laugh with him. 

“Thank you,” you exclaimed as she handed you your food. You threw a 10 at her and settled back down into the couch. 

“You know, you could come by the rink and draw a couple of the guys,” Nat mentioned. Her long term boyfriend was on the hockey team, Clint, a sharpshooting winger nicknamed Hawkeye. 

“Pfft,” you scoffed. “I’m not going to have them think I’m one of those, puck kitties, or whatever they’re called.” 

“Puck bunny,” Wanda chimed in, you pointed your chopstick at her and smiled. 

Natasha let out a loud laugh, one of those full bodied ones, “god they won’t think that.” You raised your eyebrow at her and gave her an incredulous look. 

“I can’t have them showing off because I’m there. I need to get them in their element. Not focused on what I’m doing,” you groaned again. “Biggest issue is I will need permission from the person or people. So they’ll have to know.” 

“Like I said Princessa, draw me. You have my permission,” Pietro winked, you rolled your eyes at him. 

“You’re too obvious of a choice. And as much as Wanda insists that Professor Grace doesn’t have a personal vendetta against me, she’ll love pointing out I picked the safe option,” you whined. 

“Wanda, you haven’t seen Grace in class. She will take any chance to criticize her pieces. Nitpicking to the extreme.” Natasha chimed in, “if it wasn’t for Dr. Rain I think our resident artist would've failed out of this course by now.” Dr. Rain was the head of the art department and after a wholly undergraded piece you submitted last semester Prof. Grace was on thin ice. So she graded you fairly but took every chance to tear you apart in front of the class. 

“I’ll think about the hockey team. It would be the least expected from me anyway,” you signed and got up from the couch taking everyone’s garbage and throwing it out. Football season was over, but the hockey season was in full swing right now and our team was top of the league. 

“They have practice tomorrow night, you should come by and look at it,” Nat said, giving you a knowing look. 

~The Next Day~

That's how you ended up in the rink. Underdressed because you didn’t realize how cold an ice rink would be in the stands. You were right though, about the type of girls that hung out there, they were scantily dressed and leaning over the tunnel that the players exited and entered from. How they weren’t frozen baffled you. 

Nat was sitting reading a chemistry book across from you near the bench, as you didn’t want the team knowing you knew her. Well everyone but Clint. You’ve hung out quite a few times over the past couple years. You took a seat a few rows up opposite the bench near what Nat called the Sin bin (penalty box.) It gave an excellent undisrupted view of the rink and the players as they practiced. 

The sounds of skates gliding over fresh ice and sticks bouncing off it was an almost soothing sound. The puck skittered across the ice as it was passed between teammates and shot toward the empty net. The goalie, a guy named Quill, was performing some kind of ritual at the opposite end of the rink. Nat mentioned he was a bit of an odd duck. But according to her all goalies were odd in their own ways. 

The movement was fluid and easy to follow. How these giant men moved so weightlessly across the ice left you in awe. The Captain of the team was a blonde center named Steve Rogers, better known as Cap. Most of the school knew him, he was in a few of your art classes over the semesters. His girlfriend Peggy, was the student union president. 

The star of the team was his blurry best friend James “Bucky” Barnes. He was a “winger,” with good prospects for the NHL according to Nat as she gave you a lowdown of the team as you guys went there just after practice started. He was nicknamed the White Wolf. How a man of his size moved that easily was mesmerizing, he almost floated over the ice and it looked like he was dancing. He was sinfully handsome as well. Every other week he had a new girl hanging off his arm. Undoubtedly one of those puck bunnies as they were called. He was the talk of the school after the football season concluded. 

It made you dislike him on principle. The sports were definitely more priority in the school and the art department lacked thanks to these overgrown toddlers on skates. But you couldn’t deny his natural handsomeness, he looked effortlessly handsome and it was almost unfair. 

You looked down at your sketch pad that you had been absently scratching at. Bucky seemed to be your muse because you couldn’t take your eyes off him as he effortlessly skated around the rink. You were in danger and you knew it. You gulped and closed the book before quickly gathering your things and leaving. 

It didn’t take Nat long to text you and ask where you went. You sent her a quick message back saying you were cold. Not that Bucky, the school's playboy, had quickly become the muse of your piece. 

“Nat, I thought you said your friend was coming by,” Clint asked as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. 

“She did, she left because she was cold,” Nat chuckled. 

“Anyone know the pretty one watching by the sin bin?” She overheard Wilson ask. “And what she was doing?” 

“I think I was in a couple art classes with her,” Steve mentioned missing your name. 

“I won’t complain if she comes by again,” Barnes said. Wilson raised a brow at him. 

“What, so you can break her heart well?” 

“Look doll, it’s not you,” 

“It’s me.” Wilson and Stark said together. Barnes shot both men a glare. Then the high pitched whine of Barnes newest fling squealed his name and that was Clint and Nat’s queue to hightail it out of there. The collective groans from the rest of the team matched her thoughts. 

~A couple days later~

“Loki, I don’t know what I’m going to do, this project is worth too much for me to go safe,” you sighed as you laid your head on his lap. He was reading some classic novel for his English class in the student commons. His fingers nimbly moved through your hair as he held the book in the other hand. 

“Darling, just go back to the ice rink,” he knew almost immediately when something was up when you were walking together a couple days later. The perspective bastard. Loki was your best friend since middle school, his brother Thor was the star quarterback for the football team in both high school and here. 

“Why would I do that,” you pouted. 

“Because you clearly want to draw this man, and it will ruin you for months just like that piece you did of Helena,” he said shortly. Helena or Hela was his big sister and she was absolutely stunning. You had pined over drawing her for a piece for months before Loki forced you to ask her. It fixed everything and life back to normal after you painted the piece. 

“I hate when you do that,” you whined, his eyes flicking down to your face. 

“Hate what darling,” he mused. 

“That, being reasonable and knowing what I need before I admit what I need to do.” He laughed and ruffled your hair affectionately. 

“Comes with years of experience,” he sighed and placed his book down next to his leg. “Do bundle up this time will you,” he called as you walked away, you quickly flipped him the bird as you rounded the corner. 

And there you were back at the rink again. Although tonight was a game night and the rink was packed. “20 dollars,” a nasally boy said as he pushed his glasses up, he looked bored out of his mind. 

“Pardon?” You asked, looking at him. 

“It’s 20 dollars to get in the game,” he said in an annoyed tone. 

“Oh, I’m a student,” you showed your ID card, he rolled his eyes, “5 dollars.” You nodded and placed the five down. Only partners of the team got in free. Perk of fucking one of the team members you guessed, that must have outweighed the fear of them cheating or getting bored. You knew that wasn’t fair. At least two of the guys were in committed relationships and one was in an on again off again relationship. The rest though you weren’t sure, you shock your head at the thought. 

You caught the flaming red hair of Nat in her reserved seat next to the bench, Peggy was next to her. There were a few open seats at the top of the rink, not great from getting a good view of what you needed to draw. But it would have to do. Instantly your eyes were drawn to Barnes, number 17, flying up the ice leaving the opposing team in the dust, snow? With a quick flick of his wrist the puck was shot sideways and Barton scored. The crowd stood and cheered loudly. You wished you had ear plugs now. The buzzer was insanely loud and made your ears ring. How Nat enjoyed this you’d never understand. Barton. You thought, Nat wasn’t big on sports, but she was big on her sweet boyfriend. 

You focused on Barnes as he showboated around the rink, celebrating his assist. He moved so fluidly, you were mesmerized. You drew many little pieces focusing on the movement trying to capture the effortlessness of him skating. You were startled from your drawing when the buzzer screeched again the crowd roared in applause. The team scored again and it seemed to be Barnes that scored this time. Hats flew onto the ice as he skated around. That was odd, you squinted at the action. His eyes caught yours for a split second as he rushed past and it felt like eternity. 

Read Chapter 2 here

Feel free you send me a message if you have a request or would like more <3

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes #fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #marvel imagine #college!bucky #college au #loki #natasha x clint #bucky fanfic #white wolf #hockey fic #artist fic #hockeyplayer!bucky x artist!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader

[clangenrising]

Month 13 - Newleaf

Mystique returned home late at night, tired and sore. Razor had every cat who wasn’t already training the Chaff or doing some other kind of errand for him searching the city for the escaped wild cat. She and London had spent the entire day scouring the more remote edges of town for signs of the old gal and her paws were worn nearly raw from it. She couldn’t help but respect the old she-cat, honestly. Somehow she had managed to avoid anyone catching sight of her for days - no easy feat.

Sighing, she jumped over the fence into her yard, comforted by the familiar rattle of wood. Home sweet home, she thought, time to get some well deserved rest. If she was lucky, the Folk might not have put away the wet food yet. Just as she reached her flap the fence rattled again and she wilted, turning to face the visitor. 

“Ugh, what now?” she groaned, tilting her head towards the sky. She dropped the weary complaining when she saw Gingersnap’s face. Her neighbor was striding quickly across the grass, an intensely furrowed brow and pursed lips betraying her anxiety. 

The fence rattled again and a tortoiseshell with a notched ear followed after her. “Your Grace, wait-” 

“I told you,” Gingersnap said tightly, “I’m just coming to talk to Mystique. You can return to your post.” 

“But-” the Chaff cat winced. 

“It’s alright,” Mystique said, “I’ll keep eyes on her. Go back to your post.” 

That seemed to set the cat at ease and she nodded, returning back the way she came. Gingersnap sighed in relief as well but the tension underneath her smile remained. Mystique frowned. Something was wrong. 

“Thank you,” Gingersnap said, stepping up close, “I wanted to have a word with you in private.” 

“Sure thing,” Mystique said, shifting her posture to be more attentive. “What’s up?” 

Gingersnap hesitated. It seemed to Mystique that she was considering turning back with a ‘nevermind’ and that only made her curiosity burn stronger. What was bothering Gingersnap so strongly? 

Eventually, the smaller cat swallowed and said, “Mystique, I need to ask for your help and it’s very important.” 

“Of course,” Mystique said, leaning in, “Whatever you need, I’ll help you.” 

Gingersnap searched her face nervously. “I need you to take me to the frontier. Now.” 

“Now?” Mystique sat up taller in confusion. “What for?” 

“I-” Gingersnap’s words caught in her throat and she shifted her weight like there were fleas in her fur. She grimaced then blurted, “I need to get away from here. I can’t keep going like this, I- I need you to take me to the frontier and we can’t let anyone know where I went. Please, Mystique, I'm begging you.” She curled her tail underneath herself submissively, eyes wide and pitiful. Mystique could tell she was putting on a show but the desperation seemed genuine and that frightened her. 

“I mean…” she wasn’t sure where to start. “Okay, sure, but I don’t- I thought you liked it here?” 

Gingersnap scoffed wetly, tears starting to gather in her eyes. “Please! This place is a nightmare. Surely you’re smart enough to see that!” 

“I thought you and Razor-”

“Mystique, Razor is the reason it’s a nightmare! He’s terrible, he-” she choked on the words, looking away. “I don’t want to talk about everything he’s done to me.” Mystique was baffled by the sudden emotion on display. She had known that her brother and Gingersnap had their differences, that things had clearly been strained after her return, but this was different. 

“So you’ve just been lying to everyone?” Mystique asked. 

“Yes!” Gingersnap stepped closer, bringing the conversation into a more intimate whisper. “Please, you have to understand! If I wasn’t perfect Razor would destroy me. He’s a monster, can’t you see that?” 

Mystique squirmed uncomfortably. “He’s a dick, sure, but he’s always been good to me…” That was a bit of a stretch. He’d definitely done her wrong in the past but that was just what older brothers did, wasn’t it? They gave you shit, they pushed you around, but they loved you anyway. Razor wasn’t perfect but a monster? That was a line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross. 

“He killed a defenseless old woman the other day!” Gingersnap said desperately. “She came to make peace and he killed her!” 

Mystique shook her head. “No, that’s not what happened. The wild cats came to demand surrender.” Sure, Razor had perhaps gotten carried away in killing the wild cat but given the brutal murder of his close friend, Sycamore, she could understand how that kind of thing would have upset him so intensely. 

Gingersnap’s eyes narrowed sharply. “I was there,” she hissed, “I saw what happened! I- I knew her.”

“You knew her?” That didn’t make any sense. 

Gingersnap swallowed and looked over her shoulder briefly, then down at the grass. “Yes. Her name was Smokyrose.” Her anger faded to something tender and sorrowful. “She was a peacemaker and a mother. She was painfully kind and stupidly naive and she thought she could convince Razor to stop the fighting and he killed her just to spite Ghost.” The anger came back again, this time a low simmering fire of loathing. If Gingersnap was lying right now, she was giving a masterful performance and Mystique knew first hand she wasn’t quite this good. The knowledge weighed her stomach down like a cold and heavy stone. 

“That’s…” Mystique swallowed. “That can’t be true.” 

“You know it is,” said Gingersnap, meeting her eyes again. “In your gut, you know I’m right.” 

Mystique stared. Words failed her, scattered and lost by the dreadful truth looming over her. 

“This is why I need your help,” Gingersnap continued. “All those months I was away, I was living with the wild cats. I need you to take me back there. I’ve tried getting Ghost to take me and it hasn’t worked but if we go tonight I think we can make it. Please, Mystique. I can’t take another day here, I can’t.” She swallowed and closed her mouth, seeming to hold her breath as she waited for a response. 

The world was spinning around Mystique. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, like she was trying to pick up a toy and someone had poured a whole basket of identical ones on top of her. She wanted to shut this all out and go back to the way things had been, but that would mean shutting out Gingersnap. She took another look at her friend, at the tear stains on her cheeks and the fear in her eyes. 

“Okay,” she said. “Okay, yeah.” 

“Really?” Gingersnap smiled disbelievingly. 

“Yeah,” said Mystique, committing to the idea however scary it was. “I promised my brother I would look out for you and I meant it, even if… even if he’s the one you need protection from. I wanna be there for you, Gingersnap.” 

“Please, call me Scorch,” said Scorch. 

“Okay. You got it,” said Mystique. Scorch smiled and nearly rose up to headbut her affectionately but seemed to think better of it halfway through the movement and pulled back.

“Right,” she said, clearing her throat awkwardly. “Lead the way.” 

And so she did. It was strange. They’d walked together like this many times before but never before had Mystique felt like she was doing something wrong like she did now. She found her spine prickling with nerves as they got closer and closer to the edge of town. A few cats saw them pass and she nodded to them like nothing was wrong but she started to worry about how she was going to explain this when she came back. 

“It’s alright,” Scorch said softly, her smile in place, “just pretend you’re allowed to be doing what you’re doing and no one will care.” 

“I am allowed to be doing what I’m doing,” Mystique frowned.

“Even better,” Scorch purred. 

Still, Mystique decided to take the long way out to avoid walking past the training barn. Her stomach was starting to rumble as they ventured out into the tall, field grass. Twilight hung around them and winter’s chill clung to the night air like a stubborn tick. Mystique was grateful for her thick pelt and the lack of wind. She’d never been out to the frontier and she hoped that it wouldn’t be too much farther until Scorch got where she needed to go. They crossed the road, careful and quiet, and shortly came across a strong line of scent markers. 

Scorch brightened. “Perfect! I should be able to make it from here.” She turned to smile at Mystique and said, “thank you.” 

“Of course,” said Mystique, “but I’m not just gonna leave you here. There could be all sorts of dangerous stuff waiting for you.”

Scorch laughed. “I can assure you I will be just fine, but it’s sweet of you to care.” 

“Seriously,” Mystique said, “I’m not leaving until I’m sure you’re safe and happy, okay?” 

“Alright,” Scorch raised her brows skeptically and she smirked. “You’ll have to talk to some of the savage wild cats though. Are you sure you’re up for that?” Her tail flicked teasingly and Mystique blushed. Was Scorch flirting with her? Her stomach squirmed with intense discomfort. 

“Uh, sure,” she said, looking away. Scorch laughed again. Shaking off her disgust, Mystique started off through the grass. 

It wasn’t long after that when a rustling of grass, like a creature moving quickly in her direction, turned Mystique’s head. She rounded towards the thing, puffing up to twice her size and baring her teeth with a furious hiss. Whatever was coming their way definitely had bad intentions and she stepped in front of Scorch to shield her from the threat.

“Wait-!” Scorch started.

A large ginger shape slammed into Mystique, hissing in kind. Claws swiped near her face and she ducked out of the worst of it, barely getting her nose nicked. Her collar jingled as she struck back, paw swatting down with force in an attempt to daze her opponent. She wasn’t the best fighter in the city but she knew how to handle herself and she managed to drive him back with a few heavy blows to the skull. The tom hissed and reared up to headbut her in the chin, causing her teeth to clack painfully together. Luckily, her tongue didn’t get caught between them. 

“Stop it!” Scorch cried indignantly, rushing forward. 

Mystique fell back to block her from harm, saying, “Stay back!” 

A second cat had emerged from the grass, a young brown speckled tom, who cried, “Russetfrond, wait!” The big ginger tabby in front of them glanced over his shoulder at him, then squinted past Mystique to glare at Scorch. Recognition flashed across his face. 

“Scorchplume?” he asked aggressively. Despite her confusion, Mystique bristled and stood her ground just in case he tried to lunge again. 

“Yes,” Scorch huffed, side stepping her protector. “It’s alright, Mystique is with me.” 

“What do you have around your neck?” the younger tom laughed, as if it were a live squirrel or something equally ridiculous. 

“A collar,” Scorch sighed dismissively. “One I’m quite eager to have off.” 

“What are you doing here?” The ginger tom said warily and the glance at Mystique conveyed the ‘what are you doing with her’ that he didn’t say. 

“She helped me escape from the city,” Scorch said. “It’s a very long story that I’d only like to tell once. Can we go find Goldenstar so we can discuss it?” The younger cat looked eagerly at the ginger tom who stared Mystique down with a steely glare. She shot one of her own right back at him.  

“What about her?” he asked. 

“I’m going where she goes,” Mystique said firmly. “I’m here to make sure she gets where she’s going safely.” 

“Uh-huh,” the tom said skeptically. 

“She’s fine,” Scorch rolled her eyes. “Look, we’re both very hungry and tired. Can we please just go back to camp?” 

The tom growled for a moment then huffed and turned away. “Fine.” 

“Thank you,” Scorch cried in exaggerated relief. She started forward confidently and Mystique followed closely beside her, eyes still fixed on the big ginger tabby. He stared ahead, almost like he was refusing to look at her. What a weirdo, she thought. 

The younger tom stepped up beside her as they walked and said, “I’m Sparrowpaw, by the way. This is my mentor Russetfrond.” The ginger tom twitched an ear but stayed quiet. 

“Mystique,” she said carefully. 

Sparrowpaw smiled disarmingly and said, “It’s good to meet you. Thanks for helping Scorchplume.” 

“Scorchplume?” she asked, raising one brow to look at her companion. 

Scorch waved her tail dismissively. “My Clan name. They all come in two parts like that.” 

“Huh,” Mystique said. Interesting. 

“What?” Russetfrond glared at her again. 

“I just said 'huh',” she pushed back, returning his glare. 

“Okay,” he rolled his eyes. 

“You got a problem?” she asked. 

“Yeah, I do, kittypet,” Russetfrond said, squaring his shoulders. 

“Kittypet?” Mystique laughed. “Is that supposed to upset me?” 

“Ugh, will you mind your manners?” Scorch rolled her eyes to the heavens. “Mystique is my guest, Russetfrond, can you stop trying to pick a fight with her?” 

“Maybe,” Russetfrond said. 

“Try me, wild cat,” Mystique smirked. He curled his lip in response and she laughed. His face was more pouty than threatening which was especially comical given his ridiculously exaggerated jowls. 

Scorch sighed. “It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?”

UPDATES: - Scorchplume has returned!

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Mystique #Scorchplume #Russetfrond #Sparrowpaw #Newleaf #clangenrising

[graciegoeskrazy]

undo

matty healy + teen!daughter!reader

warnings: teenage pregnancy, yelling, mentions of absent mother, lmk

a/n: it’s not how i wanted it to be but I’ve been holding onto it for too long so im sorry to the anon who requested if it didn’t live up to your expectations. ok lave uo bai.

The thought has been intruding on your train of thought for the past week and a half. Your period was about a week late now which wasn't unusual. You’re a young woman with a growing body - it happens every once in a while. But that paired with the other unusual symptoms and the fact you had an interesting night about a month ago led to the quiet panicking voices inside your head.

It was simple as you were bored, you called up an old friend, he had ulterior motives, and you had no objection to it. It was a fun night in the end, and no hint of regret showed itself, until now.

You knew you needed to talk to your dad. You knew you needed his help. Usually, things like this weren't a big deal for the two of you. He gave you the talk and every single time you groaned and complained about your period he helped you through all of it, not once showing any hint of discomfort. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up with a single dad and no female mother figure. This was different. This was unpredictable.

You planned to tell him as soon as you got home. Or at least that was the plan. That plan was thrown out the window when you opened the door and were greeted with George’s voice

“I’m home!” You said. The dogs came to welcome you home immediately, as they always did.

“Kitchen!” George said. You mentally cursed yourself.

The two of you talked about your day, his day, and other stupid things to pass the time. Meanwhile Matty watched from the other corner of the table. He noticed something was off. You looked and sounded normal, but there was something that didn't belong. You seemed on edge to him, as if you were waiting for something to happen. No matter how hard you try to hide something, you can’t hide it from your dad. “You alright, Love?” He asked, taking a sip from his drink.

“Yeah, fine.” You said, taking a breath, finally meeting his eyes. He was wearing his usual white shirt and dress pants. However, his hair was a mess and he had this look in his eye. One that you knew all too well. He knew something was up.

By now, George caught wind of your act.“Are you sure? You look pale almost.” He reached a hand up to touch your cheek. You moved his hand away and smiled. “I’m fine George. I swear.”

He sighed and took a sip of his drink. “Alright.”

“I’m gonna go start homework.” You said, turning away and heading upstairs.

Matty followed you with his eyes. “Ok…dinner in 20.” You looked back and gave a slight smile.

Once they heard a slam of your door they were quiet. That was until George said, “That’s suspicious.”

Matty agreed, “I’ll go investigate in a bit. For now, just let her be.”

…

You put your backpack down and immediately ran to your bathroom. This was the 3rd time you threw up today. It could be just nausea. It could be the fact that virus’s are going around or that your period had been acting up or whatever. Or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

The thoughts of you have to do it, you have to tell him, you’ll have to do it eventually, all swelled in your head and led to anadreline rush of some sort. Whatever it was, it gave you enough energy and courage to go downstairs and face him.

You feet were working your faster than your brain could. By the time it caught up you had planted your feet in front of your dad, looking at him expectantly.

He had a drink in his hand, waiting. He took another sip then, “You alright there?”

You swallowed. “I have to tell you something.”

His eyebrow quirked. “Okayyyy…what is it?”

You sighed. “I’m…” As you were about to say it, you met his eyes which halted your movements. “Really excited for dinner.”

He chuckled. “That’s it?”

“Yep.” You said, popping the ‘p’

“Bye.” You turned around and headed for the stairs bt your dad lightly grabbed your arm, pulling you back.

“Woah, woah, hold on. What’s going on?” He asked, genuine concern painted on his face.

“Nothing.” You said.

He laughed, “So that’s a lie.” He put his drink down to give his full attention to you. “What’s going on, baby?”

At the touch of his gentle hand on your arm and his soothing voice, one you;\’ve grown accustomed to for years, a dam you never realized you;ve been holding in broke. “I don’t know how to say it.”

He shushed you, soothingly, “Just say it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

You finally turned your gaze to him. “Because I don't want you to hate me.”

He went to hug you, but you pushed him away. “Tell me what’s happened. You're scaring me.”

You tried to catch your breath but it was no use. Eventually you just gave in. “I’m pregnant!” You shouted.

“You’re what?” he asked, his tone growing serious.

You took your time but your eyes slowy met his. Once you looked up you also saw george peeking hsi head out from the kitchen.

“Pregnant.” You repeated. “Or I think I might be. I don’t know?” Your breathing started to get heavy again. “I don't know what’s going on. All I know is that I’m scared and I don't know what to do.”

You expected him to reply. To ethier scream or soothe you, but he stood still. It just sent your nervousness over the edge. “Someone say something, or do something for crying out loud!”

He swallowed. “What do you mean you think?” He asked hesitantly.

“I’ve been throwing up throughout the day for the last week. I’ve been having awful cramps. I’ve been bloated, I…”

“Jesus.”

“My period is over a week late now.”

“Y/n Healy!” And here it was, the reaction you dreaded and expected.

“I got carried away! You were out on tour, and I was alone and-”

“Do not pin this on me, young lady.”

“I’m not! I’m just explaining myself-”

He started to get really red. “You’re 16 y/n! You can’t just run around having sex with the first person you see!”

“Oh, and what a good example you’ve shown me.”

He had enough. “Upstairs. Now.”

You turned on your heels, and went straight up to your room, doing your best to keep everything in until you got upstairs.

…

Your dad was about 18 when your mom got pregent and they had you. She went back and forth for awhile, but eventually decided to leave the day you were born, saying it was for the best and blah blah blah. He promised t give you the best he could, and for the most part he did. Maybe you could do the same?

Your thoughts wer cut short by the knocking on your door. It had been about an hour since the ‘incident’ downstairs. “Baby?” His tone was soft. “George got a test for you.”

You stood still. You’re cries continued, as they did for the past hour.

“Tell me what happened.” He said. He held no anger or demand in his voice. Just concern.

You sat there, took a breath and sat on the other side of your door while u spoke. Matty mirrored you from the outside. “I just got carried away one day. I met up with an old friend and-“ You trailed off, hoping he would get the point without having you go into detail. “I messed up Dad.”

He sighed as you continued to sob on the other side. “It’ll be okay.”

Your emotions were nearing a full 10 right now. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

He turned so he was facing the door. Hoping you would open it as soon as he spoke “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.” He sounded casual. “It’s gonna be okay-“

“You don’t know that!”

“I do! I was 17 when I became a dad. And we didn’t turn out too bad, right?” He smiled.

You buried you head in your hands. “God, I’m such a slut.”

“Hey! You are not a slut. You’re just…human.” You laughed. He was happy he was able to make you giggle, even if he couldn’t see it and it only lasted a millisecond. “Take the test. Whatever it says, we’ll figure it out.”

You stood up to open the door. “Don’t come in. I mean, can you just slide it though?”

He leaned his head on the door frame. “Whatever you need my dear.” Slowly, the door opened. You reached your hand out and he put the box in your hands. Once you closed the door he spoke. “Take your time, I’ll be right here.”

…

Those ten minutes seemed to be the longest of your life. 2 of them consisted of sitting on the toilet and staring at it. Not the test - the test in the wrapper. Some shock of adrenaline (most likely just your need to pee) pushed you to rip it open and place it in between your legs without giving it another thought. You cleaned yourself off and placed it facedown on the counter and set a timer.

You paced and paced and paced. You thought maybe you should go to your dad. What you two talk about for those 5 minutes? What happened? No you can’t talk about those details with your dad. You two were as close as can be but even some things needed to stay sacred. You thought about him. The ‘father’ of the baby you weren’t sure existed or not. He went to another school across town, a mutual friend. He was a year or two older. It didn’t matter though. All the consequences, every single move you made in the past couple weeks, were about you. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. He could be a father or not. It didn’t matter. It was you the consequences fell back on. you. And you were paying for them now.

The timer rang and you grabbed the test without a second thought.

You sobbed.

It was negative. If anything you should be cheering. Screaming. from the rooftops that your life was nowhere near over and you were t getting yourself into a whirlwind of trouble and physical and mental pain. But you cried.

You opened the door. Your dad stoped his movements and looked at you expectantly. He was pacing too just moments before.

“It’s Negative.” You said.

He sighed a breath a relief and hugged you. You continued to sob into him. “Why are you crying?” he whispered.

You muffled into his chest. “Because I didn’t want to let you down.”

He looked at you. “You could never, my love.”

#the 1975 #x daughter!reader #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy x daughter!reader #matty the 1975 #matty x reader

[erospandemos]

Boyfriend Tutorial

Sieun x Male Reader

Length: 3.2k

Sieun has to teach you how to be her boyfriend.

You wake up thanks to your phone ringtone, blasting the default bell jingle in your right ear, with a humid pool in your notebook and a huge pain in your back. Certainly falling asleep at your desk wasn’t a good sleep position for your spine, and not a comfortable one either, but literature was so powerful, it knocked you out in less than thirty minutes. That said, behind that loud ringtone, you were already sensing an upcoming pain in the ass.

Your phone was almost demanding to be answered, it was as if the notes were screaming in your face. You take a deep breath and pick your phone up to see the person who was calling: “Puppy”. Now, you would’ve never saved anyone with such a name on your contacts but you were forced into it, by the same person that was calling you now, your girlfriend.

Once you slid the green button across the screen, her filtered voice came blasting at full volume.

“Good morning sleepyhead! I bet you had the most profound, warm, dream-inducing, fairy-like sleep ever, right? Must have been so heavenly!” You could already tell it wasn’t a “good” morning for her and it wasn’t supposed to be one for you either. Her voice was already cracking your speaker, she must have been fuming mad.

“Good morning, Sieun…” you said softly, testing the ground.

“Wh—first of all, Sieun? We’ve already discussed this before, baby, say it.”

“Honey.”

“Well done. Second, good morning? Babe, it’s 2 pm!”

“Well, you said it first and I—”

“It was sarcasm, you idiot. Can’t you even tell?” she complained. The large sigh behind the speaker gives you a moment to rest then Sieun starts again. “Gosh, I don’t know how I’m the girlfriend of such an airhead… Anyways, listen here mister.”

You lean back into the chair and look to the ceiling, calling the help of the gods, the angels, the deities above but you know nobody could rescue you now. She said the phrase, Sieun’s mom mode was activated and you could not escape.

“Not only I didn’t receive a good night text, which we have agreed on, not only I didn’t receive a good morning text, but you didn’t say anything to me all day! Wh-what am I? I’m your girlfriend, not a random friend you talk to only when you feel like it.”

“Sieun—honey, I…”

“Go ahead, give me your excuses. Like you always do,” Sieun scoffs. You don’t even dare to sigh, if she heard it, she’d go on another rant about you not caring enough or whatever she had in mind—you didn’t know. Next time you should ask your friend to code you a bot to send her texts or remind you to do it, because at this rate, it was only a matter of time until she’d kill you.

“Nothing, honey, I’m sorry.”

“Well, you’re unforgiven. You better make up for it, alright?”

“Okay, tomorrow I’ll—”

“Not tomorrow! Right now. We’re going on a date. We’ve been a couple for two months and you’ve only taken me on one date when you confessed. I’m tired of waiting, you’re taking me on one right now. Think of a place while you come to my dorm.” When she was done talking, Sieun closed the call without giving you time to say anything else.

You go back to your normal sitting posture to think. Sure, you had to prepare for your test but that was in a week and even if it was a lot of material, it was a threat in the future while Sieun was a very close threat. Putting things on a scale of importance, your girlfriend seemed to be a bit further up. Fine, the date was already decided, you might as well go. 

Being Sieun’s boyfriend was, in a lack of words, demanding. You’ve known her for a long time before getting together with her: you were her personal tutor. In the past, her character was definitely rougher and you had to take a long time before she trusted you, but after that you got to see her sweet side. In a mix of hormones and surprise, you eventually asked her out and in a even more surprising twist, she liked you too.

Unfortunately, it was right at the start of your midterm so you couldn’t spend much time with her. Frustruation must have gotten to her too and she was more irritated than usual.

Anyways, you don’t ask yourself anymore questions as you drive the car away from your dorm and drive to your Sieun. While on the road, you looked around thinking of where to take her. She was a very energetic girl and bringing her to watch a movie or to a café would have been very stupid of you. Something like a bowling or an arcade was more fitting. Yeah, you should go to the arcade.

You arrive at her dorm in probably 10 minutes. You knock on the door of her room and another girl opens the door for you. You know her, she’s Sumin, Sieun’s roommate. She comes out of the room like the priest of the Oracle of Delphi, ready to give you one of her prophecies and it wasn’t going to be a good one.

She looks at you with a mixture of fear and worry but politely gives you a smile. “You got Sieun real upset, she’s been complaining all morning,” she says.

“Sorry about that,” you reply apologetically, rubbing the back of your head and bowing. 

“It’s okay, I’m used to it,” she chuckles. “Anyways, she’s in her room, she’s still changing so you can wait in the living room. I’m gonna go buy some groceries.”

“Thank you, Sumin.”

“Good luck,” she says and runs down the stairs. Now it’s only you and Sieun. 

“Honey, I’m here!” you yell at a random direction and Sieun yells back, “You can come in, I’m pretty much done!” You come into her room like a soldier on a battle field. There is stuff everywhere on the floor: clothes, make up, bags, magazines, and if you ever dared to step on one of them, it would be over for you. 

Sieun was sitting in front of a mirror, touching up her lips. She raises an eyebrow, looking at you through the window, then continues to put on her red in a comfortable silence. You limit yourself to looking at her and thinking about what you’ll do later.

She was done. Sieun got up after clicking the lipstick and grabbed her bag. 

She wore a beautiful white dress, simple in appearance but full of little decors up close, it narrows just a little under the chest, not to show too much of her curves but let completely uncovered her shoulders and collarbones, where your eyes went the most. Her pink wavy hair adorned her face perfectly, making her face look smaller and sharper. 

The moment she got up, the air inside the room was pushed out, and a sudden void was left in your lungs as you couldn’t master up any coherent word. You stutter a bit, and turn around to shield yourself from a too strong beauty. 

“Uhm… so, I was thinking of going—” you can barely start when Sieun interrupts you.

“Really? Is that what you’re going to say?” she scoffs. You turn around and see her rolling her eyes, folding her arms, and leaning back on one leg.

“Wh-what?”

“You’re really useless, aren’t you?” she starts. “You’re lucky I’m an understanding person, the other girls would have left you already, but you have a lot to learn.”

“What did I do wrong?” “Well, I made myself this pretty and you’re just going to ignore it?!” Her voice suddenly increases in pitch and in volume. “A good boyfriend has to give a lot of compliments, you know that? I have to teach you everything apparently.”

“It’s just that… I do think you’re very pretty but I didn’t know what to say. You were so beautiful, you made me speechless. You don’t know how much I want to kiss you right now,” you say honestly. 

Sieun is flustered, her cheeks become as pink as hair and she starts to look for a place to hide, without finding one, she covers her face with her hair and storms out of the room. “You said you got a place already, right? Let’s go,” she declares with a mighty voice and then with another almost inaudible voice, she whispers to herself, “What an idiot. He could’ve kept it to himself…”

You can hear her from the other side of the room and sigh at her hypocrisy but whatever, she was cute.

After you told her what you planned and made sure she approved of everything, you went down the dorm and started walking, it was just ten minutes from the building. You start talking about college and the upcoming tests but most of all, you let her rant because she always a lot on her mind.

Things were too smoothly to be true and after five minutes Sieun stops walking. You took a couple of steps before realizing and turn around.

“So are you not gonna do it?” she scoffs.

“What? What should I do?” you ask with confusion. 

Sieun stands there with her fist rolled and her lips curled in an annoyed frown. She doesn’t look so much of a princess anymore. “Gosh, you’re so dense, what do I do with you…? Hold hand! You have to hold my hand!”

“But—”

“Look around, dear,” she says and sways her arms to show you, “All the couples are holding hands because that’s what couples do.” Sieun then stretches her arm out, holding her palm open to you. She flicks her chin, without watching you in the eyes, “So?”

You sigh and take her hand. “There.”

You start to walk again and this time Sieun's steps are wider, with more bounce in her shoulders. You chuckle to yourself, if she really wanted to hold hands, she could have just asked nicely. But that wasn’t really in character with her. 

“You know,” you start and she turns to look at you. “Your hand is really soft. Your skin is so nice.”

“Is that so?” she almost whispers and turns the other way. “Well, your hand is all rough and shitty.”

“You really got a way with words, honey.” “Walk faster.”

On your way to the arcade, a small sandwich house catches your eye. It was one of those small shops that students usually buy their lunches from, and you know it was good from how worn the tables were. Sieun sees it too and mentions how she always wanted to try it. Come to think of it, you always bought her food as a prize for studying when you were her own tutor. 

The arcade is just two from there, you’re already thinking of what games to play: maybe the racing games or the street fighter, it’s been a while since you last tried it. 

Sieun stops again.

You almost slap your face but you can’t let her see too much of your annoyance because that was another trigger for her.

“Is anything bothering you, honey?” you ask carefully. This time you chose your words more wisely.

“Do you know what girls like?” Sieun asks you back. “Everyone should know it by now.”

“Bags? Make-up? Kai?”

“Other than that.” She rolls her eyes.

“I don’t know… Money? Everyone likes money.”

“It’s food, you dumbass! Girls like food. If you want a girl to like you, you must offer her food.”

“What does that have to do with— ah… you want me to buy you a sandwich?”

“I don’t want you to buy it. I’m expecting you to do it. Like, I have never seen a boyfriend not offer his girlfriend food. I shouldn’t even have to remind you, you should already know it…”

“Okay, let’s get you something good to eat,” you say and enter the shop while your girlfriend happily hops behind you. The shop was just like how you thought, warm, comfy, and traditional. The person working there was an old woman, with a beautiful smile, that Sieun immediately greeted with excitement even if she never saw her. 

You order the food and your bad mood is completely gone while you watch Sieun gulp down the sandwich with her cheeks full.

“This is shoooo good!” she barely says. Even if she was a rich kid, nobody has ever taught her manners. No, actually, they did teach her manners but she just chose not to follow them. 

“Do you want a bite?” she then asks you. Leaning on one of her hands she watches you sideways, brushing you with her gaze, “You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not.”

“So do you wanna try?” You nod. Sieun smiles and offers it to you with both her hands over the table. You lean over and take a bite. It was delicious, the eggs and the mayonnaise worked perfectly together and the bread wasn’t too mushy either. But most of all, you two must have looked like one of those couples from the korean dramas Sieun always watches. 

She giggles while you clean yourself.

“Damn this is great.”

“I know right! It's so good!” she replies. “Okay, now let me try a bite of yours.”

 You give her the sandwich. Yours was way too messy to be fed to her like she did. You take some extra napkins and you swear you hear a “nom” coming from her. 

“Whoa! Yours is even better! Why didn't I choose that one?”

“Wanna switch?”

“No, it’s fine.”

 When you were done eating, you finally reached the arcade, while holding her hand of course. The flashing lights and no windows really contrasted with the sunny outside. The AC was turned on, because there was no other ventilation, and it was more chilly than outside. Sieun had goosebumps all over her arms and was stroking her skin to warm up.

You give her your flannel shirt. She looks at you with surprise at first then happily puts it on.

“Oh… looks like you’re finally learning,” she smugly says. Sieun is like a little kid in a candy shop. She runs around the machines being easily impressed by every little image she sees on the screens. All that with your big shirts around her, it makes you so proud and happy. It was the dream of every boy come true.

The first game you chose to play together was Street Fighter. You got a couple of tokens, inserted the first one, and chose your characters. You take Ryu because you just liked him more while Sieun takes Chun Li. 

Sieun only knows to spam the buttons and slam the machine out of anger whenever she gets hit.

“Sieun, you’re supposed to get out of the way when I punch you, not stay still.”

“Well, I don’t know how to do that!”

“Just move your joystick.”

“It’s easy for you to say it,” she yells and starts pressing random buttons again. After a long beating, it only takes you one final hadouken to beat her, for the fourth time. Sieun stomps her feet like a little kid, she’s fuming. 

“Don’t you know you’re supposed to let your girlfriend win?” she yells at you.

“Who says that?”

“Everyone knows that!” she says and leaves you alone to find another game, all while throwing you every insult she knew. 

You let her cool down for a couple of minutes then went to search her. It took you a while but then you found her in front of the claw machine, the one with the stuffed animals, as she didn’t have any interest in football balls. She looks at you. You look at her.

“Let me guess, you’re going to say boyfriend always get stuffed animals?”

“Tell me, I’m wrong, I dare you.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Damn you— you already know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll get it for you, okay?” you say. You put in a token. 

Flash forward, you already wasted 5 tokens and you still haven’t got it. Some machines are design to have weak-ass claws so you can’t ever get the thing up, some others have adjustable weights to keep a win-to-profit ratio but the thing that infuriated you the most was how close you were getting—it was just a couple of centimeters from the hole.

“Ooh! You almost got it that time!”

It took you another ten minutes of wasted tokens and swearing to finally get the giant plushie bear. Sieun celebrated so loudly she attracted the eyes of everyone in that room, but you didn’t care, you were too tired.

“Thank you, baby!” she says. “It’s so soft and it’s as big as me.”

“It looks like you.”

“You mean I’m fat?” Her eyes pierce through your heart and you suddenly felt a bullet into your chest.

“No! No no no no no. I mean it’s cute as you.”

“Be careful, mister,” Sieun comments and starts walking on her own. She stumbles upon an air hockey table and challenges you. 

You sigh and go along with her. She just wants to have fun, air hockey is too easy anyways.

She destroyed you.

11 - 1. How did she even do that? She was way too fast, you couldn’t even see the pluck and she already scored. She didn’t even celebrate, she already knew she won from the first few seconds. You never saw anyone play as good as her, with impenetrable defense and flashy attack.

“Whatever,” you say, defeated.

“Not so cocky anymore huh?”

“It has gotten late, let’s go.” But Sieun doesn’t let you go. She holds your wrist. 

“Are you not gonna say I did good? Boyfriends always—”

“Aish, shut up,” you shut her up and placed your hand on her head. Despite your disappointment, you handled her hair with a lot of gentleness. Feeling her grouchiness come back to her after her momentary confusion ceased, she opened her mouth to grumpily tell you to stop touching, but suddenly felt a very pleasant spark on the top of her head. Her words died a little in her mouth. 

Sure enough, you were head patting Sieun, giving her little scratches behind her ears on her scalp. From the way you were doing it, Sieun wouldn’t be surprised if you owned a lot of cats. 

She had never gotten petted before, but the feeling was so pleasant it felt like her head was being clouded up with warmth, barely able to focus on any thoughts under the overwhelmingly nice sensation. She felt herself lean into the touch, his grumpiness completely forgotten.

You looked at her amusement and chuckled, “You kinda look like a cute cat.”

Sieun’s face burned red when she realized she was totally enjoying it as if she was touch-deprived and desperate. 

“You were really good, really good,” you say at the end and let her go.

“...Mh… thank you,” she whispers.

“So did I do good too?”

“Maybe.” Sieun storms out of the building, like always. 

You laugh before running to reach her. Looks like the date was successful, maybe she’ll start treating you nicer next time. For now, she looked so cute, you didn’t care at all.

THE END

Written, 27 July 203 - 29 July 2023

#stayc #stayc fluff #fluff #kpop fluff #sieun #sieun fluff #stayc sieun

[thorougly-melted-brains]

Soap got shot in the face. It’s not so bad, it was a close quarters, clean shot. By some dumb luck the fucker managed to get him from the inside out, so the most damage he’s got is two broken teeth and and large hole in his cheek.

It’ll heal fine, by some miracle it hadn’t even gotten infected (probably because it bled like an old slasher film). But now Soap, one famously chatty John “Soap” Mactavish, is stuck unable to talk for roughly a week.

He’s going fucking insane by the second day he’s fully lucid. His journal is filled with rambles and doodles and eventually just scribbles when his brain ran too fast to even form words.

He could watch videos, if only on mute because he’s got a fucking ice pack strapped around his head. It would be fine aloud but he’s stuck in an inbetween room in the med ward, and he does know some curtesy.

Normally he’d pester Gaz, but he and the Captain are on a mission half way around the world from their current base. And besides, even if Gaz were awake, he’d hardly be in the mood for Soap bitching about a few stitches.

His salvation comes a dose and too many ice-alterations later to count, in the form of one masked lieutenant.

He’s sure his eyes light up like a puppy, but he’s too wound up to care by that point.

“Nice to see you conscious, Sargeant.” Is all Ghost says as he drops himself into the chair besides Soap’s cot. Then Soap sees the objects in Ghost’s hands, his nose scrunches up.

“Paper work.” Ghost states, and drops the offending parchment and clipboard in Soap’s lap.

Soap can’t voice his opinion on the matter, but Ghost seemingly reads his mind. Or his nose wrinkles.

“Your hands still work, far as I’m aware. Price will want the report. I’m sure he’ll just be dying to hear your voice again, even in writing.” Ghost’s normal monotone breaks as he says the last bit. Smug fucker.

Soap, using his still very functional hands, socks Ghost on the shoulder. It earns him a proper, stilling chuckle out of the man. A reward for his suffering. He smiles a bit at that, then winces as it pulls at his cheek. His mouth is still full of coppery taste and a hint of gunpowder, but a fresh trickle of blood makes itself known at his mistake.

Ghost makes to get up and Soap panics. Bored out of his mind and still on some not insurmountably strong painkillers, he grabs Ghosts wrist. Thoroughly attention-gotten, Ghost tilts his head at him.

“Something I can help you with?” He asks, and watches Soap scramble for one of the notepads a diligent nurse had been using to ask him his pain level.

‘I’m bored.’

Ghost tsks as he reads it, giving Soap an unimpressed look.

“Lucky for you, you’ve got the world in your hand right there. And a charger, even.” He says, and points to the phone in Soaps unoccupied hand. Right, he was still grasping Ghost’s arm.

Soap lets go and looks away with a groan. He almost opens his mouth to complain before he thinks better of it and turns back to the paper.

‘Wifi’s shit here, and I haven’t got anyone to talk to.’

It takes Ghost a minute to decipher Soap’s increasingly slanted script.

“Even if you did, could hardly talk to them, aye?” Soap lets the slight at the end slip past him, in favor of very emphatically writing:

‘Can still write. Or text, if they know how to use a phone.’

The last bit is a slight break in character. Usually he’d poke at Ghost for pretending to be tech-illiterate. But his current vocabulary is limited by his already shaky hand-writing.

“Well, handy for you I just might.” Ghost says, and gestures for Soap’s phone.

He’s unlocked and handed it over to Ghost before his words even hit. With Ghost currently occupied by… whatever he’s doing on Soap’s phone. Soap opts to tap his knee and give him a confused look.

“I do have a phone.” Ghost says, eyes twinkling with something like mirth. He hands Soap his phone back, and to Soaps astonishment he finds that Ghost’s entered his phone number.

“Can’t promise I’ll respond quickly, I’m handling two sets of paperwork after all.” Ghost says, and stands up and just walks out like he hadn’t just handed Soap something worth more than gold.

Soaps first thought, when his brain catches up to what had just happened, is to change Ghost’s name. He’d entered himself as simply ‘Ghost’ which went against Soaps sorting system for contacts. He quickly alters it to one ‘Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley.’

Someone who didn’t know him would assume he was a proper respectful soldier boy for entering every one of his contacts’ ranks. Really he just couldn’t be fucked to remember them on his own.

His second thought, after that was fixed, was to focus on what Ghost had said while Soaps brain was still loading.

“Two sets of paperwork.” He’d said. And, upon further inspection, Soap finds the forgotten clipboard in his lap only has the barest minimum papers in it. Soap feels something warm settle in his chest. He decides to text as much to Ghost.

-taking my work was nice

-you really need to work on your coldness

-have a reputation to keep after all

Against his word, Ghost’s response is near instant.

-Not nice, tactical. You’re still technically high, can’t have you fucking up anything important.

Soap notices the punctuation immediately. The image of Simon carefully typing it out on his tiny phone with his large hands makes Soap laugh, before he winces as it pulls at his cheek.

-Also, full name I notice there.

It was the barest of sentences but Soap could just hear the overly-serious tone Ghost would’ve grumbled it in.

-if you’re worried about a security risk lt just know it’s how i put every one in

Ghost types for a long time after he sent that. Soap has to put a careful hand over his mouth to resist the grin forming on his face pre-emptively to the chewing out hes about to get.

-Well, I guess compared to the rest of you that’s the least of our worries.

Soap squawks at that one.

-what’s that supposed to mean??

He knew to wait patiently for Simon to finish agonizing after his grammar this time. Even though he wants to break his bed rest and run to the lieutenant’s office to demand an answer.

-I mean you’re so desperate to talk you’re texting me about fucking paperwork, Sargeant. Also, an excessive amount of question-marks.

Soap could only roll his eyes at that. He was starting to get drowsy though. It was near nighttime, and a Nurse had come in between texts to give him some of the good stuff so he could really sleep.

-maybe if you visited and told me something you’d find the conversation more interesting

It was bold, but he could blame the drugs and exhaustion. Seemed stupid, how tired he was when he hadn’t been on his feet in at least 48 hours. But healing was hard work, apparently.

-Fine, I’ll eat breakfast with you tomorrow. Can’t promise I’ll have much to tell, but I’m sure you’ll fill the space.

Huh, that was easier than Soap would’ve expected. He doesn’t bother answering, just starts to drift off until a Nurse comes in to dim his lights. He wakes up slightly to give them a thanking nod, then properly sets about falling asleep. Thank god he normally slept on his back, he doesn’t know how else he would manage otherwise.

#recently had dental surgery so enjoy this fluffy shite of me projecting on to soap #his comment about sleeping on his back is just me i’m a side sleeper it’s fucking sucked so far #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #not gonna tag the others since they’re so brief #ghostsoap #soapghost #cod mw2 #writing

[teawithnosugar]

Young One

! Pairings ,' Guitarist!Ellie x Singer!Reader ! CW ,' angst/no comfort, mentions of drinking, cheating, mentions of abuse, smoking, mentions of self-harm, depression??? ! words ,' 2.2k ! synopsis ,' Your band has a reunion years after you and the guitarist have a nasty breakup (Modern AU) ! song ,' Mind Over Matter (Reprise) - Young the Giant

"Mind over matter I'm in tatters thinking 'bout her"

! AN ,' Yall wanted this 😭 I’M SO SORRY FOR THE RUSHED ENDING BTW, I CHANGED IT SO MANY TIMES AND EVENTUALLY JUST GAVE UP. Also, I have no idea if this is how bands work, I just based the first half off of one of my favorite movies 😭😭😭

The band had disbanded years ago, to the public, it was due to creative differences. You all remained silent as your old manager spoke to a man who came to discuss an upcoming music festival. The real reason for the disbandment remained a vivid memory, etched deeply within everyone's mind. The tension between you and the brunette was palpable, an unspoken rift that even a fleeting glance couldn't bridge. “For fuck’s sake Ellie, we’re in the middle of a tour. You have the worst goddamn timing”

“I cheated on you and all you can think about is the timing? The tour? Are you kidding me?!”

The words still echoed in your ears, in her ears.

You were all invited to this meeting because you were invited to play at one of the biggest music festivals in America. Numbness wrapped around your being as you sat, not far from the woman you love loved.

“…they’re asking you to play 11 songs, your hits.” the man finished saying. Your old bandmates looked at each other before a chorus of “yeah, sure” “I’m g” broke out. Even Ellie agreed. Then, like an unwavering spotlight, all eyes fell on you, including those green ones you longed to claw out. Slowly, you turned to face the man.

“How much are we being paid?” you asked, your tone devoid of emotion. A ripple of surprise swept through the room. Your brow raised, “What?” you asked, a tinge of annoyance seeping into your voice. It was a simple question, after all.

“Nothing…it’s just…you never asked stuff like that before. You always let me and Ellie talk about the money.” Jesse said softly, trying to laugh off how nervous he was when your cold gaze flickered from him and back to the man.

You scoffed, “well, this isn’t just any gig, you’re banking on our past and history here, that’s a big deal so I’m assuming we’re going to be paid well for this? I’ll only do this if the price is right” Your words lacked warmth, causing your bandmates to tense, while your narrowed eyes remained fixed on the man, who promptly nodded. “Y-yeah, usually headliners are paid 4 million so I’m guessing that’s what they’ll give you.” he stammered, his nerves palpable. You nodded slowly, mulling it over for a moment before agreeing. The meeting concluded, and the day melted away, seamlessly transitioning into the next, and then the next, until it was a day away. The band delved into rigorous practice sessions every day, preparing for the forthcoming festival. Bitterness veiled your every move, but you didn’t complain, just doing whatever you were asked to. During rehearsals, Ellie caught sight of the familiar haze clouding your eyes and the tight grip on the microphone as you sang. The only time she had seen you this way before was during the month of mourning when your mother passed away, a time when she stood by your side, pulling you from the abyss threatening to engulf you. She yearned to be there for you now, but the weight of guilt from that night years ago prevented her from even meeting your gaze. You had never sung again after leaving the band. Each song you had penned for the group carried echoes of her, and performing those melodies, born from one of the most beautiful periods of your life, took a toll on your weary soul. All the pain and longing that you hid under your anger for years surged forth, threatening to consume you. Your gaze pulled towards her during breaks, and smoking sessions with the band, but neither of you talked unless it was important. You remained silent in the corner, a lit joint held between your fingers, as the others laughed and bantered. Your eyes stared blankly ahead, and Ellie couldn't help but worry. Every time you lifted the joint to your lips, the sleeves of your shirt would slightly retreat, briefly revealing old and new scars. She wished she weren't the sole witness to the depth of your current pain, she felt she had no right to care or help. She had no idea what happened to you during the years you didn’t see each other, but your pain was as clear as day, at least to her. Because no one else here knew you like she did, and that filled her with all kinds of pain and regret. When the band split up, she continued making music, coping with the heartbreak in a healthier way than you did. She released singles and albums but you refused to listen to them. You refused to subject yourself to songs about the various women she encountered. Yet, you were mistaken, for they were all about you, each one an apology. She was able to put her pain on paper and in music while you had nowhere else to put your pain. You refused to write or sing songs because every verse that came to your mind was entwined with her, and you couldn't bear to immortalize the woman who had betrayed you. So you kept everything locked inside. When you found yourself rotting away at a job you hated, you remained silent. When you moved in with your abusive brother, you remained silent. You couldn't share your struggles with anyone, because they weren’t Ellie. She was the only one who understood you, at least that’s how it was in the early days of your relationship. Sighing softly, drowsiness washed over you. You stubbed out the joint and leaned your head back onto the wall, drowning out the voices of your high bandmates.

You were all at a bar, just hanging out after a successful concert. All your bandmates were by the bar or on the dance floor while you were seated on a couch, writing in your notebook. Ellie, growing weary of watching you engrossed in your notebook, felt a heaviness settle in her heart. Her heart grew heavy when a fan approached her and started flirting with her because you saw and didn’t even bat an eye. She couldn’t help but feel unimportant to you, a feeling that had plagued her for months as the band's popularity grew, causing you to neglect her more and more. She missed your touch, your attention, you, and there she was, a girl offering everything she wanted from you. In a drunken haze, she succumbed to temptation and led that fan back to her hotel room. She told Jesse to tell you she wasn’t feeling well and went back to the hotel. You initially didn’t plan on leaving the bar so early, knowing she’d probably be better in an hour so you weren’t that worried. But you wanted to show her some of the lyrics you were able to come up with at the bar so you walked to her hotel room a few hours after she left. The hotel, a grand establishment adorned with marble walls and elegant chandeliers, exuded an air of opulence. As you approached her door, poised to knock, it swung open before you. Eyes widening, you beheld a disheveled beauty, her hair tousled, makeup smudged, and attire askew, being pushed out by your girlfriend who’s eyes were just as wide as yours. The girl awkwardly left, leaving you two to stare at each other in silence. She was the first to speak. “Y/N-” You scoffed, interrupting her as your features blend of sorrow and anger, a shield you donned all too often. Weary, she groaned softly, pleading, "Please, let me explain." “Are you fucking kidding me!?” your eyes narrowed. “I can’t fucking believe you.” Sneering, you turned, striding towards the elevator. She followed, desperate to mend what had been broken. “Look I’m sorry but you’ve been busy for weeks and I got lonely, I know that’s no excuse but c’mon, we can fix this.” she pleaded, her words hanging in the air. “For fuck’s sake Ellie, we’re in the middle of a tour. You have the worst goddamn timing” you said, voice overflowing with anger and hurt but you refused to shout or scream. Your words made her pause. “I cheated on you and all you can think about is the timing? The tour? Are you kidding me?! Do you even love me?” Her voice rose, taking a step closer to you, bridging the distance between you, and you were cursing the elevator for moving so goddamn slow. Heart pounding, eyes shut tight, you whispered, “fuck….I can’t do this…I’m leaving.” Her scoff pierced the air. “Fine! Leave!” she retorted, consumed by a fit of fury. You met her gaze with narrowed eyes. "Fuck you, I quit," you retorted bitterly, striding out as the elevator doors revealed the lobby. Racing out of the building and calling for a cab. Once your words settled in her mind, she ran after you. You were already in the cab though, telling the driver to go to the airport. All she could do was pound on the window, her cries desperately begging you not to leave her. Ignoring her pleas, you busied yourself with messaging Jesse about the situation and to pack your stuff for you cause you were going home. “Y/N!” “Y/N!” “Y/N”

Your eyes fluttered open to see Ellie, kneeled in front of you with a raised brow. She masked her nervousness and sadness, striving not to let them surface. “You okay?” she asked, a question that had echoed between you countless times in the past. In that fleeting moment, an overwhelming surge of tears threatened to spill, the urge to tell her that you weren't okay, that you needed help, welled up within you. Yet, mistaking her nonchalant tone for apathy, you stifled the tears, offering her a brief nod. Hastily, you rose from the floor, realizing that you and Ellie were the sole occupants left in the room—everyone had already left. You rushed to the door, accidentally knocking down her guitar in the process. You awkwardly picked it up, pausing to look at your initials engraved in the back along with hers before putting it back against the wall.

You slowly turned to her, but once you saw that look on her face, the one that told you she yearned for you and that she was there for you, you let fear take over and guide you out the door, out the building, and to your house.

The next day you all traveled to the festival, hours going by fast as you all waited for your turn to perform. With your band slated to close the show, you sat in your chair, donning a tight, short black spaghetti strap dress and long black gloves to cover scars and bruises while two girls tended to your hair and makeup. Through the mirror's reflection, your gaze locked with Ellie's, her worried eyes fixed upon you, barely registering Jesse's attempt at conversation. Realizing her distraction, Jesse glanced in your direction, then back at her, he shook his head at her and gave her a knowing look.

Once you reached the last song of your set, you were already near tears. It had been years since you allowed yourself to be so vulnerable, pouring your heart into songs about the woman standing beside you, strumming her guitar for thousands of onlookers, after having been emotionally distant for far too long.

Ellie sensed it, as you sang, your eyes shimmering with a glossy sheen, your grip on the microphone so tight that your knuckles trembled, and your arms quivered ever so slightly. You were losing it and she just wanted to hold you.

“You know you’re on my mind?”

As you hit one of the higher notes of the song, you turned a little sideways, so you were still facing the crowd but you could now lock eyes with her. You both got lost in the moment, consumed by the passion embedded in your melodic words and the strums of her guitar.

“And when the seasons change Will you stand by me? Cause I’m a young one built to fall” As the song ended, whispering the last few lyrics, the crowd cheered loudly, but you heard none of it. The violent ringing in your ears overpowering the noise as an emptiness settled within you.

You didn't know how or when you arrived there, but numbness slipped away as reality crashed upon you. In the backstage bathroom, your back pressed against the wall, Ellie's body pressed fervently against yours, lips moving violently against the other. Your arms wrapped around her neck as her hands gripped your hips tightly. You hated how happy you felt when her lips first met yours a few minutes ago. All the memories from years ago where you’d find yourself in this similar situation after concerts came back to you. It was so similar but so different—her lips, her skin, her taste—all held a haunting familiarity, overwhelming you in this moment. Her lips trailed down your jaw and neck, leaving light marks upon your skin. Then, it struck you—the image of her hands on that other girl, her lips on that other girl—and your heart broke all over again. So you shoved her away.

Her eyes widened, a string of apologies tumbling from her lips, but you tuned it out, the all-too-familiar ringing returning to fill your ears.

“fuck….I can’t do this…” those familiar words left your lips and she realized what was happening, you were walking out again.

She stood there, her heart racing wildly, tears streaming down her face, as you ran out, unable to halt the flood of emotions. She finally got to hold you for the first time in years, only to watch you slip through her fingers once more. Her skin tingled, clinging to the lingering touch of your presence but you weren't even there anymore.

The next time she’d ever get to see your pretty face again would be in pictures from online articles on how you died that very night. "Another young one lost"

#the last of us #tlou #the last of us 2 #tlou 2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader

[headkiss]

oooo, anna what about peter with piggy back rides? i feel like he's the type to do that for you even if he doesn't always want to but he just cant say no to you.

hi hi!!! baby’s first peter blurb and i hope u like it <333 | 0.6k of fluff

Peter Parker could never say no to you.

Whether it was impromptu plans, a small favor, a takeout run—or swing—for whatever you were craving. You name it, he’d do it for you. He wasn’t always eager to do it, but the end result was worth it every time. Your smile, a thank you kiss.

You’re the normalcy in his life, the only time he can let his guard down. He repays you in any way he can.

He thinks he’s found an actual angel every time he looks at you. You never complain about him getting home late, you clean his cuts with delicate hands and whispered apologies, you hold him without question if he seems like he needs it. You can read him so well that sometimes he wonders if you can see into his thoughts.

You’d find a whole lot of yourself in that head of his.

It’s another one of those late nights today. You decided to try and stay up and wait for him to get home. You don’t wait up every night he goes out, but sometimes it was nice to be able to greet him with a hug, a once over to make sure he’s okay, and then a kiss.

You set yourself up on the couch, put on a random show, and blink yourself awake anytime your eyes grew heavy. Eventually, sleep won, and you ended up slumped against the couch, a position sure to leave a kink in your neck.

Peter climbs through the window as quietly as possible, scrunching his eyebrows under the mask when he notices that the TV is on.

He’s quick to find you, shutting the window once he’s fully inside. He can already feel some of the tension in his muscles melt away when he sees you, head lulled onto your shoulder, fast asleep.

No matter how many times he tells you to go to bed, not to sacrifice your sleep for him, he finds you this way more often than not.

He slips the mask off, sits next to you on the couch, and lifts your head with a gloved hand gently. He moves so that you’re leaned against him instead, and he trails a hand up and down your arm.

“Hey, bug. Wake up,” he speaks softly, trying not to startle you.

You shuffle and press yourself into him closer, though you’re still asleep. He loves you, he has for a long time but sometimes he feels it wash over him in waves. Now, seeing the way you search for him even in sleep, he feels it.

“C’mon. I’m home, let’s go to bed.”

Your eyes flutter, peel open slowly. “Peter?”

“Hi.”

“Hi, baby,” you wrap an arm around him, “missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” he kisses the top of your head. “Why aren’t you in bed, hm?”

“Wanted to see you first.”

“You’re cute,” he squeezes you to him. “Let’s get to bed, okay?”

You squeeze your way behind him on the couch, arms around his neck, legs around his waist, your chest against his back. You bury your face into his neck and mumble into it, “carry me.”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. You never miss an opportunity to feel him pick you up with ease, to let him be your form of transportation. He grabs a hold of your legs and stands, bringing you with him.

He walks slowly, almost like he’s trying to put you back to sleep. You push a kiss against his cheek for it.

Depositing you on the bed, he pulls the blankets back for you and lets you crawl underneath them. He’s quick to start his night routine, a speedy shower, and everything that follows.

“Go to sleep, I’ll be beside you before you know it.”

You listen to him, sinking into the mattress and closing your eyes.

When he comes back, laying next to you, you move towards him again, half asleep and eager for a cuddle. You lay against his chest, and he holds you to him.

“Love you, bug.”

“Love you.”

He finds your hand, holds it even after you’ve both fallen asleep.

#peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker blurb #peter parker request #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker fic #peter blurbs #spiderman #spiderman x reader

[opposums-love-arson]

Scream Queen Book 1: Conventional Final Girl

The Epilogue

Chapter 8 / Masterlist

Hey guys, just letting you know after the epilogue I won’t be posting on this account anymore! I’ll keep it up for a while though. Anyways, if you want you can follow my main account @total-lost-boys-simp for more stories and eventually a sequal to SCB1CFG! It was great getting some new readers & just know this doesn’t mean goodbye! Thank you for everything!

It’s been what, a little less than a year? About eight months, I think. I still have these bone chilling dreams about Billy & Stu. One minute we’ll be close, watching a movie like Friday the 13th, Pieces, Maniac, or even Sleepaway Camp. Next I’ll hear the phone ring. Quickly I’ll say, “I’ll get it,” and move myself off the couch leaving a space between them. The person on the line will say, “Hello (y/n), it’s been a while,” instantly I could recognize it as Ghostface. Looking back at the couch the boys would be gone, no trace of them ever there. “Who is this?” I’ll ask, even though I know the answer all too well. I’d hear a laugh on the other line before being yanked back into someone’s arms. Looking at who it is I’ll be filled with dread just seeing the masked killer as they raise the knife over their head. Suddenly I’m being pulled away by a blood covered Stu saying, “We have to get help!” When I look back for the murderer we stop at a door…

Looking forward I’ll see the deranged killer in the stark white mask yet again but this time he’s taking it off to reveal himself as Billy looking in my direction with a Kubrick Stare. “We all go a little mad sometimes,” he says before raising a gun that barely misses me. That’s when I realize it’s not me he’s aiming for. The person he does shoot changes every time, it could be; Sidney, Tatum, Casey, Steve, or even Principal Himbry… but they say the same thing each time, “Save me (y/n),” before they bleed out on the floor. Next thing I knew both Billy and Stu come charging at me, tossing me to the ground. They’ll hold me down as they run the Buck 120 knife all along my body. It’s so vivid, I can feel the chilling alloy steel grazing my skin all the way from my jaw in my abdomen. They whisper nonsensical things in my face. And when one of them raises the knife above their head and plunge it into my body, everything just goes white.

“Hey, earth to (y/n)?” I hear Randy call me from the counter.

“Hm? What’s up?” I asked, snapping my head in his direction leaving my thoughts behind.

“You’ve been staring at the shelf for almost fifteen minutes,” He complains

“Guess there’s just too good of a selection?” I said with a false smile and a shrug.

“Yeah sure, just up and pick a movie,” Randy said, rolling his eyes.

“Jeez did anyone ever tell you that patience is a virtue?” I laughed out as I snatch up a copy of Amityville Horror.

“Still staying away from slashers?” Randy asks, a sympathetic look in his eyes.

“Yeah, they just remind me too much of that night…” I said, look down and scratching my arm.

“anyways...What are you and your dad gonna do tonight?” He asked, trying to change the subject.

“Hmm? Oh Neil just wanted to stay in and watch some movies, maybe order some pizza?”

“He adopted you over half a year ago, start calling him Dad for once!” Randy said, cackling at his own words.

“Yeah yeah whatever, see ya later!” I shouted as I left the store.

So much has happened since October of last year. The day after ‘That Night’ Neil told me about what Stu and Billy did to my mom. It was just Neil and I from then on so he decided that I should officially be his daughter! Neither of us see it as replacing Sid or my own parents, if anything we see it as a better way to remember them and keep them close. The town held a mass memorial for all of the victims. The individual funerals were hell. I just wanted to say goodbye to my friends, my mother and my sister but there were reporters and news vans at every turn.

It’s never been the same after I not only lost Tatum and Sindey but also… Stu and Billy. I get it, I shouldn’t have anywhere near a soft spot for those two but I do. I don’t excuse anything they did because it tore apart everything that made me happy in the world. That doesn’t mean I don’t see why they did it. Billy was hurt and driven mentally insane once his mother abandoned him because of the affair. And Stu, at the same time he might be a spoiled rich kid but he was also manipulated into all of it by Billy. In a way, neither of them had full control of what they did.

I like to think that had they not run away on ‘That Night’ they would’ve been sentenced but also would’ve been able to get the psychiatric help they really needed.

“Neil, I’m home!” I shouted as I opened the door. No response.

“Neil?” I called out again, suspicion rising in my voice. No response again.

“Are you here?” I asked, looking around the living room, the kitchen, upstairs in his room, Sid’s room, my room, every room in the house.

“Neil?!” I called out again this time with frantic breathing and hot tears itching at my skin.

“Oh woah, woah, kiddo it’s okay!” Neil came from around the corner running to me.

“I thought- I thought you were gone! That they took you! Where were you?!” I asked, clinging to his sleeves and he pulled me into a hug.

“Shh shh, I was in the garage working on the car, kid,” He said as he rocked me back and forth.

“I already lost mom and Sid. I don't want to lose you too, Dad,” I said as I thought back to how I found Sid and Tatum at Stu’s house…and the officer who sat me down to tell me how my mom passed away.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m okay, we’re okay,” Neil softly said, trying to calm me down.

“Ya know what, you got a letter on the counter, looks like it might be from a family member, go take a look,” Neil said as he ruffled my hair.

Going downstairs I look on the kitchen counter, sure enough there’s an envelope with neat and somewhat familiar handwriting. Huh no return address, I thought to myself. I’m careful not to rip the paper as I open the envelope. As I looked inside I saw a few polaroids and folded paper inside. Taking the polaroids out ran my blood cold. One of them was a picture Mrs. Riley took of Sid, Tatum, and I from our final sleepover. The next was of our group at the fountain, all of us, but Sid and Tatum’s faces were crossed out and small Ghostface doodles were placed over Billy and Stu’s. The last two were pictures of me, Stu and Billy on Stu’s couch at one of our movie nights. Placing the pictures down I look at the paper… on the folded front said; To: (y/n), from: Yours Truly. The letter itself said;

Dear (y/n),

It’s been a while. We’ve really missed you. How’s your mom…oh wait. We just wanted to check in and let you know we’re doing fine after you killed us. Or well, almost killed us. We bet you’re wondering how we’re still alive, Right?

Well for starters, the knife? A retractable prop, bit of a let down since you didn’t actually stab Stu, right? Then that gun, we switched out Dew-fuses’ bullets for blanks while you ran to his car. Really explains how Randy lived. You most likely knew that already. Also when you kick someone against a coffee table, you should really check their pulse next time.

We hope you haven’t gotten too comfortable thinking we’re gone for good ‘cause trust us baby, we’re coming back for the sequal.

P.S. you should pick up the phone.

Sincerely,

Yours Truly

Just as I finished reading the letter I heard a ringing from the telephone in the lounge area where Sidney got the call the night we were attacked. Cautiously I walked over to it, fear in my chest making my heart race and my palms sweat. “Hello?” I asked, swallowing nothing out of pure nervousness.

“Hello, (y/n), miss me?” Asked an all too familiar raspy off pitched voice.

“Oh shit.”

Tag list; @katie-tibo @thatoneuchiha @honeybee54321 @lolwey @livingordeadwhoknows @theomegaofvodka

I’m sorry for the inconsistent posting, please forgive me 😭 also let me know if I should put a sequal in the works? Thank you so much for reading!

#scream 1996 #scream fanfic #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #stu macher x reader #billy x reader #scream #scream x yn #stu x reader #halloween

[wolveria]

The Raven's Hymn - Ch 46

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, violence, horror, death, monsters, human experiments, dark with a happy ending

Chapter Summary: “I know it’s a lot to take in, but really, I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

AO3

You bolted, your body acting before your mind could catch up.

SCP-035 was free. You hadn’t quite thought through the implication of releasing all the SCPs and how they might react to said freedom. You’d thought at most you’d have to worry about running into 173, not 035. Especially when all the cells had just opened, which led to one conclusion: 035 had escaped before 079 had opened the doors.

These thoughts flashed through your mind, the implications trailing behind your body’s visceral reaction to his appearance. But 035 anticipated the move and snatched you around the middle, forcing you round to face him. He held you in a mocking parody of an embrace.

“No, no, none of that,” he tsked. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but really, I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

“Let go!”

You tried prying yourself from his grasp, unsuccessful with your panicked attempts, and 035’s face immediately flickered into a frown.

“Brrr. Cold reception.”

A groan came from your left. 035’s frown flipped into a grin in the blink of an eye. He released you, sauntered to the veteran guard who was trying to reach for his gun despite being in a pool of his own blood, and pulled the trigger. A single bullet ripped through the man’s neck, assuring his death but not granting it swiftly.

The white mask turned upward to face you with a grin.

“Stay put, little bird. If you take flight, I’ll have to clip your wings.”

He tapped his rifle in case you didn’t get his meaning.

You looked away as 035 began to pick things off the bodies, specifically the keycards and whatever else was in their pockets. You could try to run, but you didn’t trust him not to shoot you for the inconvenience.

Instead, you picked up the laptop where it spilled from the bag, placing it back inside after checking it over to make sure it was intact. Luck was on your side as none of the bullets had punctured it.

After placing it inside and looping the strap around your neck—an awkward affair with your hands still tied—you held the device to your chest when you caught sight of 035 eyeing it.

“How sweet,” he cooed, “you really do have a soft spot for the strays, don’t you?”

He held one of the keycards, twirling it between his fingers like a cheap magic trick.

“You shouldn’t trust him, you know,” the mask continued, the card dancing across his gloved knuckles. “079 might know how to open some cages, but he doesn’t know the way out.”

“And you do?”

035 snapped his fingers and pointed the magically appeared keycard at you.

“Bingo.”

You weighed your options, but really, you both knew your choices were limited and he was the one with the guns and the keys. You held out your arms, offering up your bound wrists.

“Can you let me out of these? Please?”

He perked up at the plea and rubbed his porcelain chin with a thoughtful hum.

“I’m sorely tempted, especially when you ask so sweetly. But… no.”

He grabbed you by the arm, happily dragging you along despite you trying to plant your feet, the smooth soles of your slippers not adding much traction. Somehow, you’d found yourself in an even worse situation than with the guards.

“035, listen to me,” you tried. “You don’t need me, you can clearly handle yourself and navigate the facility. Let me go—”

“Hush,” he bit out, his face now hidden as he flipped down the ballistics visor. “Stop complaining. And stop dragging your feet. I’m helping you.”

His version of “help” was probably as useful as a hole in the head, but when he gave you a forceful yank, you picked up your feet. He was strong, much stronger than his host body should be. It must have been one of his anomalous properties, but that gave you a chance. If you could only touch his skin or the mask itself, you might be able to pry him away from his host.

“With all the skybridges retracted, we’re stuck in Heavy Containment,” he commented, his pace solid and even, as if he had a destination in mind. “But there’s a way out through the archival section. I know it, and so does your man.”

“…My man?”

He snorted.

“Well, less a man, more a beaky pain in the ass.”

After being caught by the guards and then 035 showing up, you’d almost forgotten about your original rescue mission. Shame heated the back of your neck.

“If he knows a way out, then… we should go to him.”

035 barked out a laugh.

“Yeah, no. You can get your beau after I get the hell out of here.”

You growled and tugged at his hold, but he simply gave another chuckle and continued to drag you along.

“I’ll let you go once I’m free and clear. I’ve gotta look after number one. You understand, don’t you, Reid? You’d throw me under the bus to save your own skin, seeing as you’ve done it before.”

He shoved you inside an opened room, and you struggled to stay on your feet. You caught a glimpse of a bank of surveillance screens before 035 pushed you against a computer console, the grin of his covered mask hovering inches from your face, barely glimpsed past the darkened shield.

“Stay put, sweetheart.”

Your silent glare followed him to where he stood before the wall of screens. 035 began to flip through them, and you realized they were various facility cameras, showing the corridors and mezzanines. None of the cameras had access to the interior of containment cells, as they had their own dedicated observation rooms, especially for SCPs labeled as cognitohazards.

What 035 was looking for, you didn’t know. There was the occasional security guard, and on one screen the actual MTF team, most likely the one that had been stationed underground near 682’s chamber. It was the only explanation for how they’d gotten on site so quickly.

You eyed 035’s uniform, about to ask him how he’d gotten out of containment before 079 had opened the cells, but his full attention was on the screens, working the controls that moved the cameras.

You inched toward the door.

“Do you understand what you are?”

You went still and looked over your shoulder. 035’s back was to you, his focus on the monitors, but you still sensed the uncanny weight of his attention.

“SCP-001.”

“But do you know what that means?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

He turned around to face you, bracing his hands back against the console as he eyed you with a tilt of his head. You almost wished you could see the mask. That blank slate of a shield was somehow more disturbing than his frozen grin.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

You pressed your lips together and stared back.

When enough time had passed to indicate you weren’t going to answer, he pushed himself away from the computers, his steps slow and mocking.

“Would you like to know? I’ll tell you right now. All you need to do is ask.”

“No.”

You shrank against the wall, the solid surface against your back as he crowded your space, towering over you. Of course, he couldn’t pick a host body that was smaller than yours. Showmanship and intimidation were just as important to him as a functioning body.

“I’ll tell you anyway, little bird.” 035 raised a hand to your face, rubbing a gloved finger against the side of your cheek. “You… are the answer.”

You turned your face away from his touch, unease crawling over your skin, though you frowned at his cryptic words.

“But the answer to what question?” he mused. “Now, there’s the mystery.”

You scoffed. 035 was either stalling for some reason you couldn’t see, or he was simply so arrogant as to think the breach would operate on his schedule. Either way, you didn’t have time for this.

Your attempt to push him off was met with an amused chuckle.

“Who do you think locked you in that cell with 049?”

You froze. Your body was locked in place, air trapped in your lungs. 035 tilted his head and gazed off to the side, as if trying to recall a particularly elusive piece of information.

“Who influenced poor… oh, what’s his name. Kevin? Kelly? Kenneth, yes, that’s it. Who pushed the unfortunate boy into sealing the door, cutting off your escape from our good doctor?”

Kenneth, who had been acting less and less like himself as time went on. Kenneth, with his nosebleeds, his unusual fear of 035, and his apparent infection with Pestilence.

Why hadn’t you seen it? Or sensed it? You still didn’t fully understand the extent of your abilities, but wouldn’t you have known if something was wrong with him?

A worse thought occurred to you. What if you had sensed it but had been so focused on 049, you’d simply ignored it?

“That was you?” The words were a wheeze in your throat. “Why?”

035’s tilted head drifted back to you, the shadow of the mask barely glimpsed beneath.

“Maybe I was curious. Maybe I was bored. Maybe I just wanted to see what would happen when 049 dug in his claws. If you would fall prey to his cure and blow this whole fucking circus sky-high, or if you would fizzle out his deadly touch.”

Another sinister chuckle.

“I certainly didn’t expect you to become an adverse amplifier. You’re only supposed to neutralize us. Make us harmless, inert. Not reverse our abilities. It’s all dreadfully fascinating. 049 never spoke of it, did he? There’s a name for what you are, and we all know it.”

Your attempts to shake him off were as successful as the first time, and you bared your teeth at him.

“I don’t care. I don’t care about any of that shit. I’m going to find 049, so either help me, or get out of my goddamn way.”

035’s head moved away as if he was genuinely taken aback, but his words were light.

“Bossy for someone in zip tie bracelets.”

He moved closer, a sinister undercurrent to his words.

“Now, come along, sweet girl. It’s time for you to make yourself useful. You owe me for that lie you told the Site Director. He stuffed me in an airtight, lead-lined box, and I did not care for it.”

He flipped up the shield, the grin spread wide in contrast to his angered words.

“But… I’m a generous man, and you’ve caught me in a good mood. If you give me what I want, I’ll point you in the direction of your precious doctor. Deal?”

You swallowed compulsively, eyeing the smooth porcelain. There was no glimpse of the MTF soldier underneath, nothing but black holes for eyes and a mouth.

“And what is it you want?”

It was dangerous to even let him entertain the possibility of a deal, like trying to barter with the Devil and come out ahead, but if there was a chance he knew where 049 had been taken…

He perked up, previous chipper attitude bubbling to the surface.

“For you to be my meat shield, as it were. Lots of nasties in this place, and I’d rather not have to burn through bodies. You’re the perfect cover for me to slip by.”

Oh. Well, that didn’t seem too bad. Which, of course, immediately raised your suspicions.

“Tell me where 049 is first, and I’ll do it.”

035 clicked his tongue with a playful head-tilt.

“That’s not how this works, little bird.”

“Stop calling me that.”

The grin seemed to spread wider even though it didn’t actually move.

“Well, I can’t call you big bird. That name’s already been taken by our tall, feathered friend. You do know he has feathers, don’t you?”

You said nothing beyond your silent glare. 035’s glee seemed to grow.

“Did you not get him naked enough for that? I had no idea you were both that repressed.”

Bile and rage burned in your throat, equally choking.

“Fuck you.”

“No, thank you. I’d rather not have big bird’s sloppy seconds.”

An angry noise ripped out of you as you launched forward. But 035 was quicker than the Site Director, jerking back before your forehead could collide with his.

He shoved you against the wall without care, a cackle erupting from the mask despite the tragic face that appeared within the blink of an eye.

“For being the one who introduced you two, you’re awfully uncooperative with me.”

“You locked me in!” you screamed. “You tried to kill me!”

“You were already dying,” he hissed, the humor dropped from his voice. “Because of me, the good doctor healed you. Because of me, Kenny-boy let you out so you could go stick 079 in a socket. You’re here, able to whine about how unfair your life is, because of me. You should be grateful.”

Rage burst from your rib cage like dragon fire. You kicked as hard as you could, colliding with his knee and pulling out a surprised grunt. You shoved him off-balance with the force of your full weight behind it, and then you were free, running out the door and down the hall, your rage curdling into biting fear.

035’s voice followed, echoing off the walls as if he surrounded you on all sides.

“Not very sporting of you, sweetheart.”

You didn’t stop. Your breath burned in your chest after months of inactivity, but you pushed your legs, feet pounding against the tile. The corridors were cleared out, empty of personnel, guards, or even SCPs. If you’d been thinking clearly, it might have given pause.

You recognized the double set of doors ahead of you: the entrance to the Heavy Containment cafeteria. Bursting through the unlocked doors, you ignored the stairs to your right that led down into the dining tables and kitchen, instead running across the raised walkway that spanned the spacious room.

A hand clamped around your wrist just as you made the halfway point. 035 yanked you backwards, back to him, and you didn’t resist.

No, you didn’t resist. You ran straight at him, using your momentum and his pull to carry you forward. He realized what you were doing too late.

The walkway lacked any sort of traditional railing, but what it did possess was a glass wall barricade, blocking it off from the cafeteria below. Not acrylic, not polycarbonate, but real glass.

Your shoulder collided with 035’s chest, and he crashed back through the glass, carrying you both over the edge into the open air.

Next Chapter

#the raven's hymn #scp 049 x reader #scp 049 fanfiction #scp fanfiction #scp 035 #the boy is loose

[emilycollins00]

Hiii I don't know if you would write it (it's okay if you don't) but to change the tone a bit, could you do a list of toxic traits/red flags of the troupes members? I saw it in another fandom and thought it would be interesting! love your stuff btw

Thank you for waiting love!! 💕 That said, hope you are still around aksdjkdn it's been a while.

I wasn’t sure if you meant in a relationship or just in general, so I went with the flow a bit and did whatever felt more suitable for each at the time (hence why some are longer)

Warning: I focused on showing bad traits and exploiting them so my apologies if any fan doesn’t like what I chose, don’t take it too much to heart!

A3! and their toxic traits

Sakuya – Conflict avoidance / Insecure

He definitely struggles to voice what he wants and needs because he’s afraid of upsetting people or his patner, which leads to Sakuya never deciding anything.

Afraid of rejection, instead of addressing conflicts or expressing his feelings openly, he tends to retreat into silence, limiting himself to smile, and definitely avoids discussing certain topics.

Of course, when there’s a fight he never wants to argue. Not to say he’ll just apologize, but he will try to find a solution (even if it doesn’t make much sense) to pretend it’s all good and everyone is content when in reality, it’s not.

Itaru – Childish / Half-assed

Has a tendency to talk about people behind their back when they do something that upsets him, instead of talking it out.

Sometimes going out with him feels like babysitting. He tends to complain if he’s in a place he didn’t want to be. It’s his day off and you two already saw one another three days ago, couldn’t he just have stayed at home?

Incredibly bad memory when it comes to remembering special occasions but try asking him when is the birthday of his favorite character… or maybe don’t.

Masumi – Overly intense / Tunnel focus

This boy’s downfall are relationships. Masumi has incredibly intense feelings – that’s no surprise, so when he finally falls the beginning is perfect, almost fairytale like.

But then he asks opinions about choosing a wedding venue. Asks about a having kids. When going to the store he even begins to look for baby clothes. First week gone and he’ll want to meet with in-laws. Want to move in together.

He loves so much that it’s overbearing and doesn’t realize how pressuring he is – how fast he’s willing to move everything. Still, what’s there to think? Their partner must want the same thing.

Chikage – Righteous / Emotionally Distant

Being with him, whether it’s in a romantic relationship or friendship, is emotionally draining.

While people pour everything they have into their relationships, Chikage, aside from the people from Mankai, won't even be half as invested. And all the time, patience, and effort that should've come from both parties is off unbalance which ofc turns into an eventual distance.

IF he’s ever confronted about it he sighs, because as expected, it now has become a tiring task for him. People know he’s usually like this. Why getting angry or bothered by his persona? It’s not like he was lying or anything to anyone.

Tsuzuru – Workaholic/ Untrustworthy

I think at first his relationships would be great. Tsuzuru does try to make time for friends/partners/family after all.

But sooner than later, he’s again cramped up with scriptwriting, uni, work... you name it.  People notice the pressure he’s under, so he’s usually proposed to take a break, to go with someone somewhere, but he just doesn’t listen. 

He will be apologetic “I’m so sorry, I have to complete this before the end of... “I forgot we were…” “I’ll make it up to you next time!” and it’s understandable, but he’s always like this.

If anyone insist too much, he might get irritated and snap, and if the person snaps back or leave he does realize how badly he messed up… but half the time, he won’t make a move. He’ll tell himself to talk it later.

Citron – Toxic Positivity / Overthinker

King of no one can be mad if we don’t focus on the issue? A little bit tactless given the situation as well.

And god bless him but while he takes notice if anyone is not feeling well, partner or not, he decides to be absolutely oblivious to their bad moods. If they want to talk about it he doesn’t get it either. Why is everyone upset about it, at least it’s over now!

Doesn’t like taking responsibility for his actions, making excuses to justify his behavior, so he tries to always have others or his partner on his side, just in case.

Tenma – Accusatory / Invasive

Always has something to say, no matter the argument – even if he's clearly the one in the wrong. Instead of working it out rationally, he shifts the blame away and pins it on the other person, guilt-tripping into thinking he's the one compromised.

If others were indeed wrong however, prepare for a non-stop nagging for days to come. If driven by his ego, this will escalate and in eeeevery conflict, this will be brought up.

In a relationship Tenma thinks he has the right to intervene in his partner’s personal affairs, meaning if they have something going on or someone they have a problem with, he’s going to lash out even if he was asked to leave it alone. What-? Why are you mad? You should be thanking him!

Muku – Pessimist / Passive

He want to know everything about everyone and in a relationship, his partner is always free to tell him about their problems… but that’s when troubles begin.

Overly sensitive, and when stresses he’s the type to blame himself in any situation which makes dealing with him kind of exhausting after a while.

That said, despite his kind self, Muku is overly passive in his communication. He often avoids direct confrontation, leading to unresolved issues which given his pessimistic nature as well have him tensed all the time awaiting when his actions might turn against him.

Since it really always his fault, you don’t have to remind him.

Misumi – Uncommunicative / Dismissive

Misumi, as many here, has a tendency to avoid confrontation and suppress his emotions, leading to communication barriers and unresolved issues in any type of relationship.

As it goes, this lack of communication prevents any relationship from progressing and resolving underlying issues, creating a stiff dynamic... at least from other people's view, since Misumi likes to get over things quickly and expects everyone to do the same. A little bit tactless in that sense.

This includes having a hard time taking the blame. He wants it to be on everyone. Even if it’s his fault, the closest anyone’s ever going to get is: Mmm we all said and did things we shouldn’t, right? let’s try to move on!

Kumon – Overwhelming / Unattentive

He doesn’t even know he usually speaks over or interrupts others but definitely knows he has the need to protect their partner.

He’s so deluded into thinking he’s doing a good thing by pulling their partner away from the slightest danger. Sidewalk is too crowded? He’ll insist to walk on the busy road. Too hot today? Maybe it’s better to stay inside. He pulls everyone away every time he thinks they are close to getting hurt. At first it’s nice, but does become suffocating.

And if it's his partner tells him they don’t need his help, he’ll laugh before assisting anyway.

In general relations sometimes he will not stop even if you can’t keep up with him if he’s too excited. He’s just go go go all the time.

Kazunari – Liar / Dependant

On one hand Kazunari knows he can be completely honest with his partner, but he can’t differentiate between being honest in a way that supports a healthy relationship without… sometimes being honest in a way where he says something to hurt their feelings. So yeah, he sometimes lies.

He also involuntarily crosses boundaries (no consent in certain lives, photos uploaded…) and suffocates with constant attention. He struggles with trust issues too, constantly seeking validation from his partner or others to alleviate his insecurities.

This behavior in the end becomes draining if he’s in a relationship, as his partner feels trapped and unable to maintain their independence.

Yuki – Non-existent filter / Accusatory

During intense moments of blinding anger, Yuki jabs out everything he thinks without ever sugarcoating it, and there really isn't much to stop that.

Also maybe because while logical most of the time, he’s a bit short-tempered in certain situations (especially when stressed), so if provoked or at least he feels recriminated, he'll say some really hurtful things, insecurities that people took time to open up to with him.

If something goes wrong and he’s not in the fault he’s quick to complain as well. He already knew what was going to happen, so why did everyone insist on doing it? And why would anyone think he will sympathise afterwards? 

Banri – Expectations / Charge

Wants to be in charge of everything. Prone to micromanaging their partner while stubbornly refusing to ask for help even if it’s obvious,

He has so much going on that if anyone crosses him, romantic relationship or not, Banri will play with the “I will leave if you want”. Because he would leave and he wouldn’t even feel regretful.

Because of his good memory and capacities, he tends to wait for people to catch things quickly. He didn’t bring coffee to class and expects people to know that he drank it on the way because morning rehearsal was rough. He didn’t answer anyone’s text so he expected everyone to know that needs revision – to him, that stuff is easy. What? No one knew? He always does similar details for everyone – he shouldn’t have to say it out loud every time.

Specially his partner. They should know what he’s thinking in these moments. If they don’t, maybe they didn’t love him as much as they said.

Taichi – Jealous / Low self-esteem

This boy lacks confidence in himself and the relationship no matter the type.

Catches himself thinking how everyone is much better than him – and in a relationship he’s scared his partner would leave him for anyone. Makes sense. They are perfect and kind, he’s just... him.

Of course he would want to be with their partner all the time, very clingy and overly emotional when arguing with him or when they tell him off. Might have taken a look or two at his partner's notifications of messages. He felt bad after though, he promises!

Juza – Self-esteem / Walls

Usually clueless about what he’s doing wrong and can’t seem to know how much effort to put into a new relationship, romantic or not. It could be days of not talking with him or him not answering just because he didn’t know if it would feel abrasive.

So yeah, I wouldn’t say he’s blinded by his anxieties and worries but then again, it’s not like he’ll ever talk about it with anyone either.

In a relationship, Juza wouldn’t think they love him enough to stay if he reveals all his insecurities. In his eyes, his partner will leave him one day, he knows it. They are too good for someone like him.

Sakyo –  Rigid / Controlling

Exceedingly strict but only when it’s related to him. Like, he doesn’t pick up the phone during work time because that wouldn’t be professional of him, yet when he’s with others? He continues mentioning work-related stuff or leaves to take calls.

There’s also certain controlling behavior in his romantic relationships. While he may initially come across as caring and devoted, his need for control becomes evident as the relationship progresses, leading to feelings of suffocation and resentment.

When in a fight, Sakyo is rough with his words and has to have the last word no matter what. His anger also lasts for days and the silent treatment is a huge thing. Will act like nothing has happened after that.

Omi -  Low esteem / Unwillingness to commit

This man's steps on eggshells with relationships, romantic or not. Omi is terrified to let anyone in and see their eyes judging.

In a relationship he’s too scared to show how much he loves his partner and honestly that very own cautiousness, that unwillingness to fall, hurts more than he realizes.

Omi is also someone who never expresses complicated feelings, either. He might just need time, but never asks for any.

People are left feeling like they might only be in the relationship because he doesn’t want to hurt their feelings. When asked he hesitates, which hurts the most. He can’t seem to understand he needs to let himself go. This happens again and again because in the end, Omi decides that it’s best to not fall at all – he doesn’t need another scar.

Azami – Extreme / Overly guarded

Azami is prude but as he grows, he becomes not so… accepting.

He scoffs wherever he sees something he doesn’t approve, and if in a relationship their partner wants to hold his hand, he’ll rip it away and lecture them angrily about how it might look to others. You should know by now.

As such, he tends to be emotionally distant and closed-off in all relationships. He struggles and often avoids discussing his feelings or concerns.

This emotional guardedness creates insecurity in the relationships, as many feel like they are unable to connect with him on a deeper level. His reluctance to open up leads to communication misunderstandings as well.

Their partner or friends must not love him, that’s the only reason he can think of – but he won’t show his fear of that possibility.

Tsumugi – Distracted / People pleaser

This young man doesn’t make it on purpose, which is all the way down frustrating.

He will have periods of time where he’s attentive to everyone, and in a relationship his partner is his number one priority.

Others becomes overly focused on his own pursuits, leaving little time or energy for nurturing any type of relationship. When he notices, he becomes again hyper attentive, doing anything for the relationship to not deteriorate.

But since additionally Tsumugi struggles to communicate effectively about his emotions and decisions, this leads to more distance to grow.

Hisoka – Ghosting / Short-tempered

Honestly he doesn’t look into the care and delicacy relationships take. Doesn’t answer messages nor call and if he does it’s quick and short.

He’s sparse with his attention. No, he doesn’t want to go out, partner, friend, or whatever should stop asking. Also it’s becoming annoying. When in a fight, if he finds it’s not important, it will always seem like he doesn’t care about anything.

Hisoka won’t compromise either, he won’t be more attentive, he doesn’t want to be, that’s too much work. And if they try to force it? Then people just don’t get him and probably just want to change him.

People unwllingness to accept and understand who he is only proves to him that this specific relationship whatever people what to call it, wasn’t meant to be, so he shrugs it off.

Azuma – Façade / Bottling emotions

No matter what, he refuses to share information about himself and can’t keep everything equal, whether you are a friend or his partner.

If there’s a feeling like something is off, and anyone mentions it rather than admitting what’s on his mind he’ll simply say that it’s fine, that all is good and perfect, and then proceed to bury it even deeper within him.

Azuma keeps burying his feelings in and trying not to resent whatever is causing him like this more and more until one day something happens and his emotions erupt out of him and he’s crying or worse, leaves for some time.

If anyone wants to know where he’s been, well, good luck trying to figure it out.

Tasuku – Rough / Absent-minded

Prioritizes his own needs and desires above others, resulting in selfish and insensitive behavior. I can’t imagine Tasuku changing his routine to fit someone else in, lover or not.

To him it’s pretty straightforward If someone doesn’t fall into sync with him, that’s life and this relationship just wasn’t meant to be. What? Why should he change the time he goes to the gym – shouldn’t his partner just get up earlier if they want to eat breakfast with him?

Or with his friends, sure he gets along, but why should he alter the way his life is, and try to finish rehearsal earlier? He doesn’t get the reason to change and tends to avoid fighting, not just because of cutting contact, but because he doesn’t want to fight with anyone... he doesn’t have time for whatever it is.

Homare – Overly worried / Opinionated

By now everyone should know that he will not give you much space when there’s a problem. He will constantly be asking questions about it and little time does he tries to listen to all versions or if he even should intervene.

And holy molly does he intervene often enough.

Also Homare doesn't get mad almost never, but becomes incredibly distressed when something goes wrong.

He won't say anything when he's feeling like that though. It's hard for him to control his emotions during a difficult time period and usually needs to be comforted to calm down but becomes so difficult when it’s time to allow people into the real him.

Guy – Distant / Trust

If this man ever has any type of problem, most people, partner included, will never know.

It’s not that he’s actively trying to keep things away, but he has no way of knowing that he should be sharing certain things.

Everyone’s held at arm’s length. His partner might think being his partner would make them close, but it’ll feel like he confides in his troupe more than them.

He doesn’t have a good example of what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like, so don’t expect him to do anything romantic unless anyone tells him so. He also doesn’t have a filter, meaning he’s brutally honest. No one should be surprised if he hurts feelings in his monotonous voice.

_______________________________________________________

Hope you all enjoyed it, definitely interesting to think of them in these terms.

Have a wonderful day! 💕💕

#a3! #a3! sakuya #a3! tsuzuru #a3! omi #a3! banri #a3! azuma #a3! tsumugi #a3! masumi #a3! misumi #a3! citron #a3! itaru #a3! tasuku #a3! hisoka #a3! homare #a3! yuki #a3! chikage #a3! tenma #a3! taichi #a3! guy #a3! muku #a3! azami #a3! kazunari #a3! kumon #a3! juza #Don’t worry bc this was super interesting to think about! In a writing sense ofc.

[imnotgoinghome]

Physically Close

Summary: “Y/n, I can’t physically get any closer to you, it’s impossible”

This one is a little shorter but I hope you guys enjoy it!

“Peter?” You called for your boyfriend, who just so happened to be invested in homework like he usually was.

“Yes?” He didn’t even bother to look up from the English paper he was writing.

“Are you done yet??” The question you had been asking him since you made the agreement to cuddle after he finished writing his essay about 10 minutes ago.

When you didn’t get a response, except for the small head shake no, you got up off his bed, walking over to see how far he was from being finished. After finding out that he only had a paragraph left, you poutingly asked him “Can you finish later, I wanna cuddle” hoping he would say yes.

“Can you wait 5 minutes? Then I’ll come cuddle with you, I promise.” Not the answer you were hoping for.

You didn’t say a word, but instead turning his chair around to face you, and siting in his lap before he could tell you no. Your legs sat right below the arms of the chair, your arms snaking around his neck, and your head going to the crotch of his neck. You pressed yourself into him, if he wasn’t going to come cuddle with you, you would find a way.

Of course Peter knew that if he didn’t finish soon he would have to deal with this, but he didn’t expect it this early on. Your breathing tickled his neck as he turned back to his desk. He kept one hand on your back, rubbing comforting circles, while the other hand finished writing.

In no later then 5 minutes he was done, just like he promised. You on the other hand hadn’t moved, still siting in Peter‘s lap. You didn’t usually come and sit with him while he did homework, but when you did, he didn’t complain.

“Hey I’m done” he said quietly, just in case you had fallen asleep.

“bed” was all he could make out when you responded. You words had come out muffled do to your position.

Peter gently placed his hands under your thighs as he stood up, bring you over to his bed. He sat you down on the bed, tickling you in every place he knew you would react to.

“St—Stop!!” You said in a fit of giggles. You tried to get out of his grasp, wiggling slowly but surely off the bed. You eventually found your footing after escaping Peter tickles.

“No, no more tickling” you said still slightly laughing.

“Ok fine, no more tickles” he said throwing his hands up in defense, still laughing himself.

Then he gave you the look. The look he knew you couldn’t resist. Oh no, it was happening. Every time he gave you the cuddles look, he had a reason. And that reason was to never be spoken of out loud. He wanted cuddles. The one thing you wanted 10 minutes ago, was now possessing him.

The more he continued giving you the look, the harder you had to fight the urge to jump on him. You fought the urge as long as you could, until…you finally broke.

You slowly started walking towards Peter, embracing him in a tight hug. Of course he gave you a hug back, but it wasn’t until you started pushing him backwards that he became suspicious.

Soon you were on top of Peter, sandwiching him to his sheets. “Why?” He asked you laughing. “Why are you always pushing you onto my bed?” He added, earning a giggle from you, causing Peter to laugh underneath you.

“Because, your fun to push over” you said once you stopped giggling. “Cuddle me closer” you said pouting as you looked down at your boyfriend.

“Y/n, I can’t physically get any closer to you, it's impossible.” He said looking up at you, his oh so needy girlfriend.

“Fine… but you owe me” you finally said after a beat of silence, still pouting. “Owe you for what?!?” Peter said sarcastically, throwing his hands up in the air, which took a surprising amount of effort considering you were laying flesh on top of him.

“your in debt mister” you stated poutfully, pecking him gently on the lips.

“oh yea, yea, whatever.” Peter started, suddenly getting an idea.

“I do have an idea for how I can pay you back though” he said, placing his arms around you once again, eyes lingering at your lips.

“Oh yeah? What might you have in mind?” You asked, gaze dropping to his lips as he slowly started to lean down. You met each other in a kiss, Peter only smiling into it, deepening the kiss as time went on.

Peter Parker may still have been in ‘debt’, but you weren’t going to complain if he paid it off with kisses. You know, maybe Peter being in ‘debt’ wasn’t so bad after all.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #cuteness #mcu #peter parker blur #peter Parker cuddles #fluff