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tornrose24 · 3 months

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I’ve been rewatching The Ghost and Molly McGee and have concluded watching season 1. These are my thoughts and observations:

-I love how Scratch slowly warms up to Molly across the season and it is easier to catch when you watch the episodes in order. From going to a complete jerk, to valuing her friendship, to caring about how she views him, to not wanting to lose her.

-I also love how this show’s art style is like a storybook come to life in every shot.

-It makes even more sense as to why Scratch haunts Adia’s old home. Todd’s soul gravitated to the one place in Brighton that held happy memories for him, where life had yet to turn him into an anxious, fearful adult. It was a safe space for him, and he was mad when a family managed to move in and invade it. Especially Molly specifically moving into his personal room/the safest spot in the house for him.

-Molly and Scratch are BOTH horrible liars. It’s funny how similar they are in that detail, and it’s even funnier if they call each other out on it.

-Scratch is an absolute asshole to a lot of people and enjoys seeing them suffer during this season, but I think that partly stems from a ‘I was/am miserable so I like seeing others suffer.’

-I’d say Molly’s worst episode is the Snow Day episode (not listening to what everyone else wants to do) and Scratch’s worst episode is the Internship episode (taking advantage of an intern to do basic, unhelpful tasks and being a bigger asshole than usual).

-Molly nearly dies 4 times (the machine during ‘Friend off,’ was willing to catch hypothermia in order to have fun in the snow, was almost hit by the truck, and was nearly sliced in half by Jinx).

-Scratch, Mr. ‘So afraid of dying that I never lived a day’…. Gets trampled by animals, eats poison berries, gets hit by a tour bus, gets blended by the machine from ‘Friend off,’ and is sliced in half by Jinx among all the possible things that WOULD have killed him in this season if he hadn’t been a ghost at the time.

-In ‘Very Hungry Ghost’ Scratch doesn’t get to eat any of the food intended for the ghosts. Because he wasn’t fully a ghost, that feast was not meant to be eaten by him.

-I admit I have yet to catch Scratch’s ‘nervous habit of scratching his arm’ during these episodes.

-There’s a recurring theme of the adult characters regaining their passion for something they once loved in a few episodes.

-However I also appreciate showing very realistic struggles, like financial concerns and how you can’t magically restore your community and town to its glory days without some effort put into it.

-Libby’s mom can be seen as an early cameo during ‘The (Un)natural.’ Of course, she would be there for her daughter ^_^

-I’m not a huge fan of the Christmas episode (never rewatched it until now) but GOD do I love the pink sky they use against the Christmas decorations and snow.

-In Pete’s news article in ‘Twin Trouble’, it mentions that other city planners mysteriously disappeared. However, I don’t think the show EVER addressed that, because such a story fascinated me and made me wonder if there was more to Brighton than meets the eye.

-There was a wasted opportunity in not discussing who or WHAT The Chairman was. Was this mystery meant for season 3?

-Scratch mentioning that he is dead throughout the show hits differently now that we know its quite the opposite. So does seeing him having to do mandatory things for the ghost world that he technically shouldn’t NEED to be doing at that moment.

-So does his interactions with Geoff. Oh boy.

-Was Scratch specifically assigned to scare Brighton? What about the other ghosts from there, like the Tugbottom siblings? Howlin Harriet? Sonia? Why don’t we see them doing their job as much as Scratch has to?

-The sheer irony of Scratch believing that he didn’t have any fears in ‘Scaring is Caring’ only for fear to be the reason WHY he was a ghost to begin with. Once again, there’s a hell of a difference between ‘Scratch as a human being afraid of everything’ and ‘Scratch as a ghost being afraid of losing Molly and would do anything to save her.’

-No seriously, it gets to a point where Scratch risks his existence to save Molly in this season and in the next one-if he had been human, he would have been willing to die for her.

-‘All Night Plight’ is an episode I hadn’t rewatched until recently. And it hits a LOT differently this time around. Molly wanted to form a forever memory with Libby and Scratch by seeing that comet and she managed to win over Scratch who went above and beyond to ensure that was possible. While that memory is now somewhere hidden in Scratch’s mind as a living person, this episode likely was one of the events needed to push him into becoming someone who would take chances and embrace life upon coming back to life.

-Considering the number of times Molly almost dies, it would have been one thing if Scratch didn’t take it too well if he failed to save Molly. But if he learned that he was the one who had the chance to come back to life and not her? Yeah, that would have seriously wrecked his mental state.

-That moment when you realize that it was TWO souls hovering on the edge between life and death that changed everything in the Ghost World. Also I could be wrong, but I caught that Molly AND Scratch both have a brighter glow compared to most other ghosts in the Ghost World. Was this stealth foreshadowing, or just a coincidence?

-Scratch’s declaration that knowing Molly was the highlight of his afterlife. That moment when you realize Molly brought him joy after years of being miserable as both a ghost and as a human. This girl reached out to him and was able to get him to open up when no one else did. This girl who is showing him how to truly live once more. This girl who he openly declares to be his friend no matter what others will think.

-When I see Wraith!Molly hugging Libby and Scratch, I just wonder ‘WHY DOES MOLLY HAVE 3 ARMS?!’

-As good as this show is, a lot of folks who watch these Disney Channel shows are likely used to the more story-oriented shows. While the ‘slice of life’ style for TGAMM did pay off, the slow pace and length it took for the episodes to release likely worked against it and I could see why it didn’t attract more viewers at the time.

Stuff relating to Todd:

-Scratch possesses people a lot in this show, but especially in season 1. I’m reminded of someone who talked about the wraith theory on YouTube and he had this guess that Scratch might someday possess Todd and then realize something is different this time. I think that having Scratch use the possession trick so often was building up to that one moment in the last episode because it WAS a matter of time until he possessed Todd.

-As I said in a previous post, I caught Todd in the stands during The (Un)Natural, which was his ACTUAL debut episode. It was easy to miss the first time, but its a noticeable establishing character moment since he’s the only audience member who is visibly NOT happy despite that the team is winning.

-Molly stopping at Todd’s house during the song montage in the bandshell episode hits a lot differently now after the series finale. But then I laughed when she smacked him in the face with a flyer upon stopping by the house a second time in the same episode.

-We have confirmation that Scratch (as Todd) knew the mayor when they were kids and that is a tale I’m very curious about.

-I caught Todd in the audience during ‘Citizen McGee’ when the mayor bestows the honor of being mayor for a day to Molly. I admit a cynical side of me thinks that this is how he actually remembers her name in the last episode…. But at the same time he was so on auto-pilot during that time that he likely wouldn’t pay much attention or remember those events that well. (Plus, you can’t be expected to remember someone’s name once all the time). I refuse to believe that he remembered this event and that Scratch’s memories were what actually triggered the name.

-Todd’s actual lines are very limited (I don’t think he gets many in season 2 compared to this one). While Dana Snyder was voicing him, Snyder lowered his voice so much that it’s really hard to tell that he’s the one voicing Todd. I keep putting my ear to my computer to listen, but Todd barely sounds like Dana. I think they did this on purpose to avoid making it too obvious that Todd IS Scratch. (And that’s probably why he doesn’t talk as much in season 2…. Until the last episode of course).

-The Internship seems to double as foreshadowing, and not just because Todd appears or that his ‘junk’ held some very crucial clues. Molly believes that the pawnshop is where happy memories go to die while Weird Larry assures her that it’s where memories can be reborn into something new. So… is the pawnshop a metaphor for Scratch’s own depression causing his ‘death’ and how he’ll be resurrected into a happier person?

#the ghost and molly mcgee #the ghost and molly mcgee spoilers #i'll need a break before i rewatch all of season 2 #molly mcgee #scratch the ghost #todd mortenson

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undoing-anobrains · 8 months

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you bring me home

part six

series masterlist

wc- 3.6K

They always seem to find each other in the moonlight. As if there's something instinctual and magnetic awoken in them once the pearlescent matter rises in the distance and the sun disappears from sight leaving an explosion of colour in its aftermath. In the dusk Matty can't resist the pull Caroline has over him - he treasures the stolen moments they share in the dim light.

Caroline had been trying to make the time to listen to the boys' latest album in its entirety without being interrupted but she was struggling. She'd heard the singles in the lead up as they were released and she was confident she knew the majority of the other tracks as well just from sharing the studio space with them for the past few weeks but she hadn't yet gotten the opportunity to listen to the final product.

She was the type of person who needed complete silence and darkness to properly absorb music, at least for the first listen, but she also felt rather embarrassed playing it around the boys. There was no reason for her to be because there was absolutely no shame in acknowledging her brother and her friends' talent and she would fully admit to being a fan but they had never witnessed her reactions to their music before. Even if he was her brother, she figured George would have been slightly concerned if he'd seen her reaction to 'I always wanna die (sometimes)' two years ago. The point being their music was a cathartic release for her but she didn't want her initial thoughts to be under the magnifying glass of half the band.

On a random Tuesday evening though her efforts were once again delayed because of Matty's arrival in her room. Lately he'd been turning up at her door earlier and earlier, sometimes to talk, sometimes just to content to linger in silence to be close to Caroline as she browsed journal articles. His head typically ended up on her shoulder and more often than not she found him following them as well. It was rather amusing when he'd ask her at the end 'what the fuck does hypofractionation mean?' and 'I don't know how you read this with a straight face love' when she was reviewing data on the acute side effects a potential breakthrough drug had on gut function.

This time though he was flicking through her belongings absent-mindedly until his fingers danced over the black bottle of nail varnish she kept on the wooden dresser alongside her makeup. Seconds later Matty was eagerly asking her if she'd do his nails and Caroline obliged because she'd never been able to say no to Matty. Not when she should have and certainly not now.

The nail polish let out loud clinks as they hit against each other inside the clear container she stored them in. Caroline placed it gently on her bed in between her and Matty. The potent smell of chemicals intensified as she slowly twirled the lid around until the bottle of black nail varnish was fully open. Taking Matty's hand in hers sent her spiralling. Her fingers brushed against Matty's constantly these days but neither of them had ever dared to be more intimate with it.

Honestly it was kind of insane that she was this receptive to the simple action of holding his band, a seemingly innocuous touch but it ignited an unexpected spark within her. The sensation, so subtle yet electrifying, sent a quiver through her fingertips and settled like a whispering secret in her chest. If only her seventeen year old self could see her now.

Their hands fit together like pieces of a puzzle, as if they were always meant to be intertwined in this way. She could feel the warmth of his palm against hers, a connection that spoke of unspoken understanding and a burgeoning affection. Her breath caught in her throat, a subtle shiver racing up her spine. Holding Matty's hand, her own artistically inclined fingers seemed to tremble with the touch, as if his warmth had triggered a symphony of sensations within her.

Her gaze flickered up from the task at hand, meeting Matty's eyes. His lips curled into a knowing smirk, a spark of playful mischief dancing in his gaze. He was aware – oh, he was all too aware – of the unsteady flutter that had taken residence in her chest.

"Steady there, Caro," his voice, a velvet caress, danced upon the air. "You make it seem like holding my hand is a monumental task."

Caroline's cheeks flushed, a rosy hue that mirrored the delicate patter of her heartbeat. "It's not that," she murmured, her voice betraying her flustered state. "It's just... I didn't expect..."

Matty's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Didn't expect that holding my hand would send your heart into a frenzy?"

A soft huff of laughter escaped her, a mixture of embarrassment and fond exasperation. "Oh, fuck off, dickhead. It's not like I'm accustomed to... well, this."

His fingers curled gently around hers, a reassurance that echoed far beyond the playful banter. "I'm just messing with you. You're doing great, love."

She met his gaze again, a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude painting her features. "You know, you really have a way of making the simplest things feel... significant."

Matty's smile softened, his thumb brushing across her knuckles in a gesture that spoke volumes. "Maybe it's the significance we assign to them that matters most."

Caroline's breath caught at his words, the air between them thick with unspoken sentiments. "You're so pretentious, but I suppose you're right," she replied softly, her voice carrying the weight of a newfound understanding. "We have a way of infusing meaning into the smallest moments, turning them into something memorable."

Matty's gaze remained fixed on her. "It's like painting a canvas," he mused, his voice carrying a hint of wonder. "A single brushstroke can change the entire tone of a piece. And sometimes, the most unassuming strokes create the most profound beauty."

It never failed to astound Caroline how Matty could romanticise the smallest actions with words that would leave the poets weeping. Just one stroke could completely alter an artwork - just like one moment could forever change two people after years of build-up.

Cautiously she continued to flick the colour across each individual nail with as exact precision she could manage with ever so slightly trembling hands. Caroline could feel herself biting the inside of her cheek as she examined every little stroke ensuring it was as perfect as possible. Even though Caroline's hands were shaky they were nothing compared to Matty's. He could never stay still which made it way harder not to smudge the first coat of black polish. She repeated the process with each nail once they were dry before giving Matty a pointed look "Don't move them for the next ten minutes," and at the incredulous one he sent her in return she sighed "you'll fuck them up if you don't let it dry first and then they'll look like shit."

To her surprise Matty seemed to actually concentrate on keeping them still after that so Caroline asked something which had been playing on her mind recently in as casual a tone as she could manage "So, have you guys been planning any post-album release celebrations?"

Matty's eyes held a playful glint as he leaned back a little, clearly welcoming the diversion from the drying nail polish. "Yeah actually, it's been a weird one to figure out but when the rules lighten up a bit next week Ross, Hann and Carly are going to come out here for the night" he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "it's just going to be a chill little party with the boys, it's kind of weird you know - this is the longest we've ever been apart and I genuinely think if I hadn't had George here I would've gone mental."

“I get it," Caroline nodded "you lot are genuinely like brothers. It must have been really hard to be apart from them for this long. But the party's a good shout, we all need it."

Caroline was actually thrilled to hear the other half of the band were going to be joining them next week. Adam had been one of her closest friends for years now but she hadn't seen him or Ross in nearly a year now because of everything that had gone down and how busy work had been for her before that. The last time had been when they headlined Reading and she'd gone to support them.

“It has been," he nodded in agreement "but luckily I've had this really cool girl to keep me company."

"Oh yeah,? Caroline raised a brow "do tell me more."

"Well, this really cool girl happens to have an uncanny ability to make even the most mundane moments feel like an adventure. She's got this way of brightening up the room with just a smile, and her laughter is like music that you can't help but dance to. And even though she's got shit taste in wine I can't stop thinking about her."

Caroline was proud of how neutral she was able to keep her expression after the string of compliments, instead a playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips "sounds like quite the character. I bet she's a handful."

Matty's grin widened, his gaze locked onto hers. "Oh, you have no idea. She's a whirlwind of wit and charm, always keeping me on my toes. And seriously intelligent it's amazing - she's got this incredible depth to her, I've never met anyone like her."

Caroline felt a warm blush creeping up her cheeks, his words painting a picture she never quite saw in herself. "You're exaggerating, Matty."

He shook his head, the sincerity in his expression unwavering. "Not at all. You're one of a kind, Caro."

Their banter had taken on a more earnest tone, a subtle shift in the air that made their words feel weightier, more significant. As their gazes locked, a fleeting moment passed between them, an unspoken understanding that went beyond the playful façade.

"You're not so bad yourself, Healy," Caroline replied, her voice softer than before. "In fact, you're kind of growing on me."

Matty's laughter rang out, a warm and genuine sound that filled the space around them. "Growing on you, am I? If I recall correctly I think you're underselling it love."

Immediately deflecting, Caroline examined his nails which were luckily dry now so she could use it as an excuse "would you look at that," she remarked "my artistry is dry now so you can move again."

"Very convenient timing," he hummed with a small smirk "thanks love, I'll see you later."

He was infuriatingly pleased with himself for being able to rile her up and it showed with his giddy walk out of her room and smug expression. And Caroline was left with the realisation that she couldn't possibly deny that the feelings were reciprocated after that.

❦

Their interactions had become charged with an unspoken tension, a magnetic pull that neither of them could resist. Caroline would catch herself openly blushing at the double entendres that slipped from Matty's lips, and she'd respond with a witty retort that left him grinning. Their playful back-and-forths were a testament to the growing fire that burned brighter between them with each passing day.

Late nights in the studio turned into stolen glances and lingering touches. Matty's fingers would brush against Caroline's as they shared a laugh, and the electricity that sparked between them was undeniable. Their conversations grew more intimate, delving into deeper topics as they shared their hopes, dreams, and fears. It was as if they had built a bridge between their worlds, allowing them to cross into each other's thoughts and feelings.

And then there were the stolen moments—those fleeting instances where their eyes would lock and time seemed to stand still. In those moments, they communicated without words, a silent exchange of emotions that left them both breathless. Yet, despite the undeniable chemistry that simmered between them, they both held back. It was as if they were standing on the edge of a precipice, gazing into the depths below, unsure of whether to take the plunge. Fear of crossing that line and risking their friendship held them back, even as their hearts yearned for something more.

But the tension was becoming too much to bear, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a melody waiting to be sung. As they sat in the studio one evening, the dim light casting shadows across their faces, it was as if the universe itself conspired to push them closer together. Matty's fingers brushed against Caroline's hand, his touch lingering longer than usual, and she looked up at him with a mixture of vulnerability and longing.

Their eyes locked, and in that moment, the world around them faded away. The unspoken words hung heavy between them, and it was as if they were teetering on the edge of a precipice once more. The uncharted territory of their feelings was both exhilarating and terrifying, and they could no longer ignore the undeniable truth that had been building between them.

Matty would strum a few chords on his guitar, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her heart race. He'd playfully croon a line or two, his voice low and seductive, leaving her momentarily breathless. Caroline, never one to back down from a challenge, would respond with a teasing smile, her voice laced with a hint of suggestion.

"Is this your way of serenading me, Healy?" she'd quip, her fingers tracing patterns on the edge of the mixing board.

Matty would chuckle, his eyes never leaving hers. "Maybe, Caro. Or maybe I just can't resist showing off for you."

Their playful exchanges were like a secret language, a way of communicating their growing feelings without the need for overt declarations. Matty's touches became more lingering, his fingers brushing against hers when passing her a cup of coffee or playfully tousling her hair. Caroline found herself leaning into his proximity, relishing the warmth of his presence and the electricity that crackled between them.

Nights spent in the studio became their haven, where they shared whispered confidences and private jokes that only they understood. Matty would strum his guitar while Caroline lounged on the couch, their eyes locking in a silent understanding that transcended words. And when the music faded, it was replaced by a charged silence, a moment permeating unspoken desires.

❦

Their game of flirtation reached its pinnacle during a game night that Louis had organized. The atmosphere was relaxed, the laughter contagious as they played rounds of charades and board games. Matty's eyes seemed to follow Caroline's every move, his gaze lingering on her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

During a particularly competitive round of Monopoly where they'd been secretly robbing money off of George all night, Matty leaned in close to her ear, his voice low and sultry. "I have a feeling we'd make a pretty good team in private too, Caro."

Caroline's breath caught, her heart racing as his words sent a rush of heat through her veins. She shot him a playful glance, her lips curling into a smirk. "Oh, is that right? Are you suggesting we team up for some private games?"

Matty's lips quirked up in a mischievous smile. "You have no idea what kind of games I have in mind, Caro."

Their eyes locked in a charged moment, the air between them thick with unspoken promises. And as the game night continued, their flirtation took on a new level of intensity, a dance of desire that left them both exhilarated and yearning for more.

In the midst of their playful banter and lingering touches, they both knew that the line between friendship and something more had blurred beyond recognition. The studio, once a place of music and creativity, had become a canvas for their emotions, a space where their hearts were laid bare through stolen glances and whispered words.

And as the days turned into nights, and the flirtation evolved into something deeper, they found themselves standing at the edge of something beautiful and unknown, on the precipice of crossing the boundary from friendship to romance. The studio's walls held the echoes of their laughter, their music, and the unspoken promise of what could be—a love story in the making, written in notes and lyrics, and sealed with stolen glances and tender moments.

Caroline's heart raced, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. "Oh, is that so?" she replied, her voice a playful whisper. "Are you suggesting that we're becoming dangerously close?"

Matty's lips curved into a smug smile. "I wouldn't say dangerously," he countered, his tone dripping with flirtatious charm. "But definitely... intriguingly close."

Their banter was a dance of words, a playful exchange that carried with it a magnetic pull. With each passing day, their boundaries blurred, and what had started as friendly teasing began to hold a deeper resonance.

One evening, as they lounged in the living area of the studio, Caroline let out a contented sigh. "You know," she said softly, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames in the fireplace, "I never thought I'd find myself in a place like this."

Matty's gaze shifted to her, his expression curious. "What do you mean?"

Caroline turned to meet his eyes, a genuine smile gracing her lips. "I mean, in the company of someone who makes me feel... seen, appreciated. It's been a long time since I've felt this way."

Matty's fingers brushed against hers, a gentle touch that sent a shiver down her spine. "Caroline," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity, "you deserve to be with someone who sees your worth and appreciates you for who you are."

Their eyes locked in a moment of quiet understanding, and Caroline felt her heart swell with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. In that instant, the flirtatious banter, the shared laughter, and the unspoken emotions came together to form a tapestry of connection that felt undeniably real. And as the future remained uncertain, one thing was clear: they were no longer just friends; they were two souls entwined in a journey of discovery, where each stolen glance and whispered word carried the promise of something more.

The studio held its secrets like a silent confidante, the walls witnesses to the clandestine dance between Matty and Caroline. Their newfound connection had blossomed into something they both yearned for, a tender and exhilarating romance that sent their hearts racing with each stolen moment.

It was a game of secrecy, of stolen glances across the room when they thought no one was looking. Matty's fingers brushed against Caroline's whenever they passed each other, a fleeting touch that left her skin tingling with anticipation. Their conversations were laced with double meanings, every innocent word carrying a hidden subtext that only they could decipher.

Late nights took on a new intensity. As Louis and George retired for the evening, Matty and Caroline found themselves alone, the world reduced to the confined space where music and emotions intertwined. They would sit side by side on the couch, their shoulders brushing against each other, as they whispered secrets that only the night could hear.

"I can't believe we're sneaking around like teenagers," Caroline would murmur with a soft laugh, her eyes locked onto the moonlight streaming through the window. Thinking of how she would have freaked if she'd known this was how things would end up with Matty all those years ago.

Matty's hand would find hers, their fingers entwining in a silent promise. "It's like our little secret," he'd reply, his voice a low, intimate whisper that sent shivers down her spine.

Caroline would often find herself perched on a stool, her eyes fixed on Matty as he played. The way his fingers moved across the strings held a hypnotic quality, as if the music was an extension of his soul. And when he looked up at her, the intensity in his gaze left her breathless, a silent acknowledgement of the unspoken connection between them.

They would steal kisses in the dimly lit corners of the studio, their lips meeting in stolen moments of tenderness and longing. Every touch was electrified, every glance a promise of what was to come. It was the result of what felt like a lifetime of yearning and restraint, a beautiful torture that neither of them wanted to end. Like the contents of a snow globe come to fruition and Caroline found it almost impossible to believe something so inherently beautiful and sacred could be hers, could be theirs - and only theirs.

taglist: @indierockgirrl

#everybody cheered #the long awaited ybmh 6 #ross and hann are making their debut next time :)#abby writes #you bring me home #the 1975 #george daniel #ross macdonald #adam hann #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy #matty healy fic #matty healy x oc #matty healy fanfic

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serialreporter · 6 months

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Can't make a strong habit of talking to them when on the job. Talking humanizes. Creates an image separate from the intended final product.

The man leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair which was still flattened and messed from wearing the mask. How kind of the Entity to provide a recreation of his apartment, here in the Fog. With his status and his sway, he could have most things he wanted so long as he kept the creature pleased. It was a two-way street he felt honored to have.

Chin tilted to the dimly lit ceiling, he continues to tangle fingers in dark locks, thoughtful eyes watching the fan paddles spin lazily and generate a light draft. Clippings of past newspaper articles that decorate the walls of his living room flicker gently in the breeze, articles he'd written. It always impressed him how accurate these realms could be, down to the most minuet detail, that the Entity went as far as to preserve his work for him and any potential guests to witness.

Speaking of.. potential guests...

Is it bad that part of him honestly missed his former life? Not that it mattered anymore, not with a gig this fitting. But truth be told... Danny sometimes found himself longing for the days spent playing a double life. The thrill of deception and thoughtful planning. He missed having an audience, that catharsis of the crowd's reaction when he published a new story. The terrified whispers he'd hear in passing on the street, the honest speculating and theorizing from his readers about where and when the Ghostface would strike next. He knew there were those out there who saw past the veneer of fright he'd slowly cultivated with his creation and had a real appreciation for the way he worked. He often wondered what those followers thought of his seemingly undenounced disappearance. Do they now speculate where the ghost of Roseville went?

It's so much harder now to recreate that same... feeling, here. This man was a cold blooded killer, yes. But he was also a talent. The lack of creative output he could make was... understimulating, to say in the least. Perhaps that was why he's resorted to talking. Something he never used to do when on the hunt. And if he did, it was only to those who met their ends at his blade.

Nothing ends here. And with time and persistence, some of the survivors start to realize that. But often times, they forget with every trial.

The man's eyes start to sleepily drift shut. The more these thoughts wander, the drowsier he feels himself become. His lack of consistent hours could also be the reason for such unaware self reflection. Had he the proper emotional intelligence to understand it, Danny might recognize that the hidden feelings these thoughts described were that of loneliness, something he'd never imagine associating himself with.

But instead, he entertains his drifting consciousness with meticulous mental images. More designs that had yet to be brought to life. New ways he could strike terror into the hearts of those that dwelled in the Fog.

It will be this way until the killer is summoned once more to feed the Entity's ever growing hunger for desperation and horror.

#☼ killing butterflies. ﹙ ic. ﹚#☼ you don't know the murderer sitting next to you. ﹙ headcanons. ﹚#i don't have a drabble tag so this will have to do #look at this freak reminiscing about being a terrorist while people are fighting tooth and nail to survive in the fog lmao #long post

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happilyeverbridgerton · 2 years

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my thoughts on bridgerton season 3

(reposted from my main account, oops lol)

Like everyone else, with the news of the season 3 plot of Bridgerton, I've decided to share my thoughts! This will also include some of my opinions regarding on the direction of how the show is going compared to the books. I hope you enjoy and that we can have a discussion in the comments.

I should preface this my saying, that I was initially not very excited to learn that Colin and Penelope were the main couple for season 3. Benedict and Sophie are my favorite couple out of the entire series, so I was obviously disappointed. Especially after reading here on Shondaland's article that "it feels only appropriate in the third season of Bridgerton for a third son and a third daughter to take the lead."

No, it actually does not. Because by that logic, Benedict should have been the lead of season 2. I really do believe this change in which couple stars as the lead boils down to the reveal of Lady Whistledown at the end of the first season, and the hole it seems like the writers of the show have written themselves into.

But, I digress. I'm learning to separate the tv show from the books, and I will get there eventually.

Immediately, I wasn't sure how to feel about Colin helping Penelope to find a husband. As the article states "Pen values her independence," so I'm not so sure why she is eager to find a husband. Though she was not exactly thrilled at the idea of being a spinster in the books, I feel like it still gave her a sense of freedom and allowed her more room to continue to operate as Lady Whistledown.

However, I do think this plot does allow for some potentially great moments to see Colin slowly start to realize his feelings for Penelope. Similarly, it should allow for Penelope to also realize that her feelings are still there for Colin and have been for a while. I'm interested to see how the new suitors will be introduced and what sort of dynamic they will have with Penelope.

What I'm not necessarily excited about is the way the Lady Whistledown plot is panning out. I am, personally, not a fan of the way the Queen has been involved with this plot of the show. Making the stakes so high that the Queen wants Penelope killed is very extreme, and also just doesn't make sense to me. It seems as though it has the potential to be very 'witch-hunty,' and I'm not sure how it will pan out.

I am interested to see how they go about resolving the fight between Elosie and Penelope. Will this happen in the first few episodes or only at the very end of the season? I'm also curious to know if there will still be some scenes with Penelope helping and encouraging Colin about his writing. I think it provides a sweet connection between the two of them and helps to add to Colin's character.

My last thought does not actually relate to Penelope or Colin, but instead - Benedict. One of my original gripes about the reveal of the leads for season 3 is that it seemed as though Benedict was in the perfect place in terms of his character for when he meets Sophie at the end of season 2.

So far, we have seen Benedict see situations around him of people living outside the norms of society, and he himself has started to adopt the attitude that being outside the ton is not a bad thing (as seen in the first season). Not only that, but Benedict seems very lost at the end of the second season. This is especially present when he learns that he got into art school because of his family/money rather than based on his merit.

All of this to say is what will Benedict do this season? I know many hope that Benedict will at least meet Sophie before she disappears for 2 years, but I'm not so sure. And if that doesn't happen, I hope he is not completely ignored or reduced to comedic relief.

All in all, I am excited for season 3 and what will happen between Colin and Penelope. I adore a friends-to-lovers trope, so I am excited to see this on the big screen. In the meantime, I will work on managing my expectations when it comes to tv/film adaptions and the original material.

#colin x penelope #colin bridgerton x penelope featherington #polin #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3

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bellandari · 2 months

Text

Bellandari Ghost Stories III

This week’s story is going to be a strange one. Of all my experiences this is the one that is the hardest (understandably) to believe and was an experience for me that I never want to repeat.

Sometime in late 2011, early 2012 I had a very strange dream.

It started off in some sort of very large warehouse. Some of my work friends and I were chasing a yeti-looking thing around for who knows what reason when I find myself in an aisle with tall racks on either side (think Costco or Sam’s Club). Right in the middle of the aisle is a desk with a computer on it which seemed like a very strange place for a desk. As I walk closer to the desk I start hearing music and for a moment, on the monitor, I see a girl dressed in black, surrounded by figures in black, playing an instrument and singing.

Your life is a jaded wreck…

The tune lingers on the air as I sit down and the video disappears. On the screen now is a Wikipedia looking article of some sort. The article went on and on about some sort of insurance conspiracy that could be identified by a small image of a ship on the bottom of their webpages. The mouse moves to the image and I click it.

Water.

I’m standing over an ocean, the waves are high but I seem to roll over them. It’s dark and windy – in the distance, a ship draws closer to me.

Your life is a jaded wreck…

I hear the music again. The ship seems to dive into the water and disappear. Off to my right the ship appears again but instead of masts it’s the upper body of what appear to be Samurai. They dip down under water again and disappear. All of a sudden, the body of the Samurai is in front of me, his fist raised! I reflexively pull my arms up to my head and roll over trying to protect myself.

I wake up.

I’m laying in my bed, on my stomach. I’m wide awake and can feel the weight of the blankets on my body and I can feel the air my fan is blowing across my face. Lord of the Rings is still playing on my laptop and the light from my hallway is filtering through the curtains, dimly lighting my room. I reflect briefly on what a weird dream that was before I try to move and then – sleep paralysis.

I’m wide awake but I can’t move. This isn’t my first time experiencing this, I know that it’s just my body lagging behind my mind and the signals aren’t quite matching up. Focus on something little, a pinky finger or a toe and just slowly try to wiggle it. Eventually you’ll either fall back asleep or wake up completely. I start focusing on my fingers.

Then weight.

Someone is sitting on me! There’s someone else in my room! The weight causes me to sink deeper into my bed and I can feel someone sitting on my lower back and then – blows! I’m being punched, one after another blows are being landed across my upper back and shoulders. At this point I’m no longer trying to focus on something small, I’m trying to scream with every fiber of my being and nothing is coming out.

Seconds that feel like minutes go by and finally, by some stroke of luck I manage to move my arms out from under me and push myself off the bed. I get up fully expecting to fight with some drunk idiot but instead I find…

no one.

#japan #ghost #ghosts #creepy #spooky #paranormal

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meganannesapp · 3 months

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This fan engages with queer theory as it represents LGBTQ pride

This fan uses tags in order to further the viewers context. The tags used like “growing up” and “the fan articles are slowly disappearing from the room” all give the viewer clues as to the message the fan is creating.

This was a GIF I took a screenshot of that includes another show in reference to Harry Potter. They make the point of if this person is cast there is higher chance of watching the new Harry Potter show.

This is outrageously expensive Harry Potter merch (in my opinion)

This fan art remixes the original by adding a darker tone to it. This darker tone makes the photos more mysterious and in a way, more magical.

This is an example of indie merch because it takes a totally different approach to Harry Potter

This is a screenshot of a YouTube video where people try to prove they are a real fan. This is a great example of cultural capital. By having knowledge of Harry Potter you can prove to be a real fan. Even note the top comment talking about what it means to be a Harry Potter fan.

This is a Tom and Emma fan edit where they focus on the relationship between Tom and Emma’s characters and how people in the fandom wanted them together. This is a small part of the fandom but this video narrows down on that idea.

One of the things I noticed when looking into this fandom was how varied it was. There are edits of anything imaginable and the edits are still happening years after the movies peak popularity which I find interesting. One of the easier things to find was merch since this is such a popular fandom. Since the fandom is large, there was merch to fit every kind of fan.

#officeofdocmalone #com255 #fandomstudies

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Permanent Chaos (4/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: mild swearing

Part Summary: While Y/N is out shopping with Cara, news breaks that ties her with MGK.

Masterlist

Two days later...

Cara and I go out shopping and have lunch for a girl’s day. I have yet to talk about the other night with Sam. Cara hasn’t mentioned it and I have no plans to either. Cameras have followed us up and down Rodeo Drive. By this point, Cara and I are both used to it. Carrying my bags however, I doubt I look graceful for these videos their taking. Oh well, they have fifteen thousand more of me.

“CARA! EXCITED TO WALK IN THE CHANEL FASHION SHOW?”

Cara ignores the paparazzi and points out a dress in the window at Dolce and Gabbana. I request to go inside to try it on. I’m not sure where I’d wear it to, but that doesn’t really matter.

“Welcome ladies!” A woman in a black dress approaches. “Can I help you find anything in particular?”

I point over to the dress in the window, “could I see that in a size six please?”

She leaves us to go find the dress for me and we roam around a small section while she does. My phone rings and I see Nicole’s name pop up. My heart immediately begins to race. She doesn’t call me unless absolutely necessary, usually we text. I step away toward the corner to be discreet.

I answer the call hesitantly. “Nicole? What’s up?”

“I got a call from Stephanie,” she sounds agitated on the other end.

Stephanie is my publicist, she handles everything that Nicole can’t basically. They bicker a lot since they’re both so headstrong and constantly need control. It’s the classic good cop/bad cop scenario, yet I don’t know who’s who. These two cover every aspect of my career, God bless them.

“Oh no, sounds bad,” I grumble anxiously.

“Depends how you look at it,” she lightens her tone.

“What is it?” I press.

“Well…” she hesitates.

“Nicole!” I drag out her name.

“It’s all over social media, magazines and it will be on TMZ tonight,” she stammers. “I’m surprised you haven’t already heard if I’m being honest-”

“Nicole! What?” I rush her.

“An article about you and Colson Baker just dropped on some gossip sight,” she explains. “It says that you and Colson Baker are dating. Stephanie and I figured no one would believe it but it’s everywhere! They have videos and photos of you two leaving The Ivy plus talking by Sam’s car. If I didn’t know you, I would be convinced.”

My head hangs low as I rub my forehead, letting out a deep sigh. “Oh dear God.”

“We can handle it, don’t worry!” Nicole assures. “This story will be gone soon!”

“I need to go, talk to you later!” I hang up on Nicole right when the woman shows me the dress.

“I’ll take it” I attempt to hurry up the process.

Cara comes up next to me “don’t you think you should try it on first?”

“I’ll explain later but we need to go” I whisper to her and just like that, she’s hurry the woman along at the register.

I have the dress and exit the store in a rush. I must act cool, the paparazzi will take notice of my mood change.

“HOW’S COLSON, Y/N?”

“SEEING HIM TONIGHT?”

“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN DATING?”

“HOW ARE GONNA HANDEL HIS FANS?”

“HAS HE MET THE FAMILY YET?”

“What’s going on?” Cara asks concerned.

“I’ll explain once we’re somewhere private,” I whisper so the cameras don’t pick up on it.

We speed walk to the car and I offer to drive since I made us cut the day short. Once we’re on the highway towards home Cara asks what the heck is going on.

“Why did they keep asking about Colson?”

I turn on the radio and Elvis Duran, along with his team, are discussing no other than me and Colson.

Danielle summarizes the article for the listeners. “The article says they’ve been dating for the past few months. They’re very happy but the relationship is still new. The pair has not yet met each other’s families but Colson is going on tour soon so maybe Y/N will join him and eventually meet the family. Throughout, there are tons of photos of the cute young couple leaving The Ivy Wednesday night. There’s even a link to a video showing them, what appears to be, having a deep conversation by Sam Merka’s car. If you watch the video, the two are clearly looking at each other very lovingly. I mean, he’s looking at her the way I look at a fresh pizza!”

The rest of the cast laughs and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Actually, scratch that, I can believe it. I’m just pissed.

“If MGK and Y/N are officially an item, why did she leave with Sam Merka?” Elvis questions.

“I’m glad you asked! According to sources, they’ve been very close friends since the start of TSL. In fact, the duo have taken many vacations together along with their co-star Penelope Glass.”

Cara turns down the volume and looks to me with a steady expression. “Is it true?”

I narrow my gaze at her in bewilderment. “What? No! There’s no way in hell!”

“Okay, just checking,” she lets out a sigh of relief.

“Never ever!” I add and change the station.

Colson Baker is everything I despise in a person. I’ve never hated someone so fast as I’ve hated him. Us together as a couple is impossible. It’s completely irrational.

_________________________________________________________

Later in the afternoon, Stephanie sets up a meeting for us to meet with Colson and his publicist. I had to drag myself to her office. My Fridays aren’t well spent in an office building with enemies. In fact, my whole day could be tarnished by this incident. The meeting room we’re all ushered into is freezing and I’m still in my sundress from earlier. Cara and I were never able to get lunch so I’m starving on top of being cold. The photos of us play in a slideshow on the meeting room’s tv. An endless cycle of false advertisement is how I see the photos. The media is selling us as something completely far from the truth. On top of everything, I’m in a meeting with the one guy in all of Los Angeles I can’t stand. Death would be less painful than the current situation. I tune out the debate between Stephanie and Colson’s publicist. He told me his name but my brain is so numb from the temperature in here I can’t recall it.

“Y/N!” Stephanie calls my name and I search for her around the room until I find her in the doorway with Colson’s publicist.

“We’re going to go make a few phone calls. You two will stay here while we handle the press.” I nod “sounds good.”

I send her a weak smile to charm her out of an apology for zoning out. She huffs and escorts Colson’s guy to her office so they can talk on speaker privately. I stand up from my office chair and stroll over to the windows overlooking the courtyard. I watch the cars zoom by on the street and businessmen and women shuffle in and out of the Starbucks below.

“If it means anything, I’m sorry,” Colson says quietly behind me.

I nearly miss it, he speaks so quietly. I lean against the wall, crossing my arms as I face him.

“You’re sorry?” I shrug, not really seeing his blame. “Why? It’s not your doing.”

I return my gaze to the chaos below us. I watch as people with office jobs travel about. I wonder if they’ve heard of me? I wonder if they like me or think I’m a stuck up actress? I shouldn’t care what people think, but it’s easier said than done. When millions watch TSL every week, it’s hard to ignore the wondering.

“If I hadn’t walked you to the car none of this would be happening,” Colson reasons guiltily.

I shake my head, finding humor in the situation now. The paparazzi can make nothing into a months long romance. A brief conversation outside a restaurant and suddenly we’re meeting each other’s families.

“We were only walking to a car. How could either of us have predicted the amount of attention that would come of us walking?” I justify, not to ease his mind, but my own.

My flicker over to the tv, I examine the slideshow of us. Examining the photos I realize it wasn’t all in my head, the way in which Colson was gazing at me is a tad bit gawk-like. Images of us walking to the car while I’m answering the paparazzi’s questions depict Colson glancing at me with what seems to be such admiration. A picture of when Cara calls for Colson comes up and I’m stunned by how we look. Even I appear to be in awe of him in return. It’s evident Cara is speaking yet neither of us react. We were so caught up within on another.

“I have one question!” I blurt out suddenly with my arms crossed I walk back over to the table. Just one and then I wish to put all of today’s events to rest.” Colson perks up and hums for me to continue. I point over to the photos on the screen “why did you look at me the way you did?”

Turning his head, he reviews the photos blankly and I wait anxiously for some sort of reason. “I’m not looking at you in any particular way,” he disregards my accusations.

I chuckle, amused by his horrible way of lying. “Lies!”

He’s thrown off by my reaction and I storm over to the TV screen to point it out to him.

“It’s clear as day to the press, the public and now me included. You’re clearly lost in some kind of thought! You were there, so was I and our friends! Say all the lies you want but you’ll never convince anyone.”

His jaw clenches and he avoids my gaze. He leans back in his chair, staring out the windows. “Colson,” I sigh, slowly approaching the table. “Maybe the truth could help the lies disappear! If we’re honest then maybe the press will leave us alone!”

He shakes his head low, letting out a brief laugh. “I highly doubt that.”

I have a thousand questions but I’m aware none will go answered. He’s a lost cause. I’m in this alone I guess. Turning my back to him I return to my position by the window. Observing the worker bees swarming around the spaces below. The sound of Colson’s chair rolling back comes from behind me but I don’t even shift. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his figure in the reflection of the window beside me. My attention remains outside. He won’t give me the time of day so why should I treat him any better?

“You wanna know why I looked at you the way I did?” His presence hovers of me and he feels like a wall surrounding me.

“Please,” I mutter a subtle beg.

“I... I had this imagine of you in my head, pre-judgements. You’re supposed to be America’s Sweetheart, Little Miss Perfect! You told me you had been working for this for years, had drive and trails.” He confesses. “You’re not what I expected... It caught me by surprise is all.”

My eyebrows furrow close, “So you thought I was just some pretty face, goody-two-shoes, ditz? If it’s because my image, my past, you said so yourself it doesn’t matter!”

“No, no, that’s not it!” he runs his hand through his hair nervously.

Narrowing my eyes, I press further. “Why then?”

The door swings open and I straighten up before forcing a warm smile to my face. I step back from Colson before the person ever appears in the doorframe. One of Stephanie employees informs us that we’re free to go. Steph doesn’t want to keep me here all day and since I’m allowed to go Colson’s publicist is releasing him. I clasp my hand together, walking over to fetch my purse.

“Thank you so much!” I gush. “Have a good day and please tell Stephanie “thank you!””

The young intern eats up my pleasant expressions. “You too Miss Voss! Will do!”

The young woman shuts the door behind her and I return to the state I was in. Expressionless, I gather my belongings and Colson does the same. Checking my phone for any missed emails or calls I can tell he’s staring me down.

“Does it ever get tiring?” His tone is light, but I can hear the ounce of mockery beneath the surface.

My attention is locked on my phone as text after text pops up from Penelope. She’s more likely than not has seen all the articles and Twitter posts. I should call her and explain.

“Y/N!” Colson shout pulls my from my thoughts.

“Huh? Does it ever get tiring?” I restate his question back to him. “What exactly are we talking about?”

I slide my purse over my shoulder while stepping over to the door, leaving Colson behind. That is until he follows me.

“Your whole act.” He forces a fake smile and tosses imaginary hair over his shoulder. “The “happy go-lucky goody goody All-American girl?””

I scoff, eyeing him up and down. “You’re ridiculous. It’s not an act.”

I swing open the meeting room door, eager to leave here. My heels clink against the white shiny tiles on my walk to the elevators. After hitting the down button, I call up Blake now that I have some time to kill. She’s my oldest friend, I’m sure she sees right through all of the tabloids and is only checking in.

“Calling your boyfriend?” Colson mutters over my shoulder and I quickly move away.

“Don’t have one,” I answer plainly, waiting for Penelope to pick up.

He smirks and props himself up against the wall beside the elevator doors. I side eye him, all he does is smile all the time and he calls me out for acting so happy all the time.

“Can’t you find anyone else to annoy?”

He grins proudly, “sure I could. None would as entertaining as you though.”

“Geez,” I mumble under my breath.

I pace outside the elevators as I wait for one to arrive and for Penelope to answer. Classic of her to text me non-stop but not to answer when I call her back. The elevator doors open and I step inside, ready to get out of here. I hit the ground floor and Colson strolls in lazily not rushed at all. He checks the button and doesn’t add any. The doors shut then silence sits flat in the small space with us. My phone buzzes continuously, I check the name at the top of the screen.

“Frickin’ frackin’!” I clench my teeth together in a growl.

Colson’s eyes widen at my sudden explosion. Closing my eyes, I exhale to calm myself then bring the phone up to my ear. Smiling helps to fake enjoyment when talking to someone on the phone. Sometimes I can fool myself into thinking I’m not miserable during discussions.

“Finn!” I greet. “What’s new?”

My southern accent surfaces. I flip the switch whenever I speak to my family or friends back in South Carolina. I can’t have them thinking I’m not the same Y/N from Charleston. Colson eyes me with his eyebrows raised, surprised by my sudden transition. He makes fun of me in a whisper for my fake enthusiastic voice. I wack him on the arm and it only encourages him more.

“Hi ya Y/N, uh so ya prolly already know butcha face is everywhere along with this MGK fella...” Finn’s voice falters at the end.

I sigh and press my forehead to the wall. Finn asks me if any of what he has read is true and I instantly deny.

My tone goes timid, “who all knows?”

“Just us, Odelle, Greyson and Myself,” he assures.

A sense of relief rushes over me. I turn back around and Colson sends me a sympathetic look, it shocks me. Going from mockery to sympathy from him has my entire mood shifting.

“What ‘bout Momma or Daddy?” I ask, keeping eye contact with Colson.

“Nah, at least I don’t think they do,” Finn guesses. “I’m not entirely sure. Greyson is sayin’ they don’t. He’s the only one that’s home at the moment.”

“Heavens to Betsy,” I exhale deeply, looking up to the heavens. “Let’s hope to the high heavens they don’t. Thank you Finn.”

I go to hang up but he says one last thing. Bringing my phone back up to my ear I reply. “Sorry, missed that.”

My brother becomes stern on the other side, “do you and this guy spend tons of time together?”

I shift uncomfortably, preparing myself for the older brother advice I already see coming. “From time to time but I promise, we’re just friends.”

There’s a pause on his end, an unbearable pause. “I trust you Y/N,” Finn finally speaks. “It’s him I don’t trust. He’s not the best sort of guy. Ya’ll aint right for one another.”

I hope Colson can’t hear any of what Finn is saying. To keep him from becoming suspicious, I keep my replies indifferent. “Sure thing. Uh, talk ya later Finn.”

“Bye, talk to you soon.”

We hang up and I slip my phone into my purse.

Colson leans back onto the railing next to me. “Who was that?”

“My older brother, kinda overbearing,” I laugh nervously then bite my lip. My accent begins to subside again.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Colson remarks.

A faint smile appears across my lips thinking of my brothers. “I have two actually and an older sister. The order is Finn, Odelle, me then Greyson.”

Colson returns a kind and gentle smile. “That must’ve been nice to grow up with so many siblings.”

“It was.” I nod as memories flash across my mind. “Finn and Odelle were grouped together and so was me and Greyson since our age gaps are less.”

As we pass each level on the elevator there is a “ding.” Facing toward the doors again, I absentmindedly watch the numbers go down as we pass the levels. My mind wanders to the many memories I’ve made with my brothers and sister.

“Finn is about Sam’s age, so he likes to believe he’s almost a co-parent for me and Grey,” I describe with a pleased expression. “He’s the total opposite of Odelle.”

Colson genuinely shows interest, “how is she?”

“She’s a total wild card! We all joke that it’s every other kid. Finn and I are the rule followers. He was student body president, quarterback of the football team and still managed to graduate with honors. I’m nowhere near him on the perfect child spectrum but I’m supposed to be “America’s Sweetheart.” My parents eat that up. Then there’s Odelle, she’s the total opposite of Finn. My parents had to beg her to improve her grades so she could graduate. I remember being twelve, it was the middle of the night when I got up to get a drink. I went downstairs and saw her sneaking out of the backdoor. She made me promise not to tell our parents. I haven’t talked about it until today. There were days she’d fake being sick just to ditch school with her friends. By her senior year nothing had changed. She ended up graduating but my parents forced her to go to a college close to home so they could keep an eye on her. Her antics continued the entire time I was in high school. College for her was a playground. For some reason, I envied her. I still do. I suppose it’s because no one expects anything from her. She messes up, well, that’s Odelle for you. She causes trouble, just another day. For me, my parents have me up on a peddle stool. By the time I turned sixteen people out here started taking notice of me. When I reached seventeen the title of “America’s Sweetheart” popped up and from then on, I was longer a teenager. I had a role to play and an image to uphold. I could never make mistakes like Odelle. I have to be “perfect” constantly. Sometimes I feel like a doll, plastic. None of it is real.”

The bell rings for the floor. I comprehend the words escaping my mouth and snap back to reality. I revealed so much about myself while I was in that daze, private facts about myself that I’ve never spoken of before.

Straightening up and adjust my dress, I apologize. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea what came over me.” The doors slide open and I step out. “Good to see you Colson,” I rush out a farewell before speed walking towards the exit.

I mentally slap myself for all I confessed. If only Nicole found out, my head would be on a stick. My life, my background, every aspect of my being is supposed to be flawless. An All-American girl from South Carolina with a wholesome up brining is who I’m supposed to be. If word gets out that I’m not so perfect then… then I would be finished. My hand digs for my keys in my purse.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Colson jogs up next to me then steps in front of me, blocking my path.

“Colson, please....” I practically plead in a mutter, stepping around him.

He wraps his hand around my wrist, stopping me. “Let me buy you a drink!”

Workers around us walk around in multiple directions like zombies. I wonder if they’re taking notice. Hesitant, I narrow my gaze at me. The reason we’re in this mess is because we were seen with one another.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I admit and release myself from his grip.

I only make it a few feet before he’s in front of me again.

“Fine, no to a drink! How about we go get some coffee? Or tea? If you prefer tea!”

His chest rises and falls rapidly, his desperation is evident. The reason behind is desperation is still unknown to me, along with the reason he looked at me the way he did last night. Who is this mysterious man who stands before me? So many questions I wish to ask but I can’t get passed his eyes. Puddles of crystal blue settle on a white canvas. Confused beyond belief, for a reason unbeknownst to me, I accept. Could be my curiosity is getting the best of me.

“Coffee it is,” I give in to his request.

He grins ear to ear and steps to the side so we can leave side by side. “Unless of course you prefer we get tea!” he suggests, sounding a tad nervous.

Honestly I like both drinks but I prefer coffee. He holds the door for me and the bright sunlight of California weather strikes me.

“Nah, I normally drink a cold brew with a shot of espresso,” I describe.

He winces and pretends to gag. “Ew! That sounds horrible!”

“It gives you a boost in the morning! Nice and strong!” I laugh.

“You’re nasty!” He waves his hands in disgust.

“Eh, you’ve called me worse,” I laugh, unfazed by his insult.

He chuckles, “you’re not wrong.”

Our laughing dies down a little as we stroll over to the Starbucks. I peer up at him with a side eye. When our eyes meet we begin laughing again uncontrollably.

___________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @canyoubuymetoast @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa56 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxrl @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresixx @Thysagclub @hockeybabe87

#mgk smut #mgk imagine #mgk fanfic #mgk #mgk aesthetic #machine gun kelly #colson baker #colson #machine gun kelly fanfic #imagine #fanfic

74 notes · View notes

hcuyk · 3 years

Text

LOST IN THOUGHTS

pairing ⋆ idol!kevin x actor!reader

genre ⋆ bittersweet, so fluff and angst

word count ⋆ 0.7k+

warnings ⋆ insecurities and thoughts of unreciprocated love, implied hate comments

prompts ⋆ 8 : did you miss me? — huh? i didn't even know you were gone // 48 : tell me you love me. it doesn't have to be the truth. i just... i need to hear you say it — prompts are from ficscafe's dialogue prompt event.

tagging @nilesig because it's kevin :]

TBZ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

Kevin’s scrolling through his phone while curled up under the blankets, his heart aching with every article that appeared under your shared hashtag with him. It was three am, and yet here he was, slowly letting himself deteriorate with every tweet he came across.

He knew the internet was a dark place and that everything said shouldn’t be believed, but he couldn’t help himself from checking the tweets from your fans, letting all their opinions about your relationship get into his head.

As per usual, he didn’t text you whenever he read these things. He never called nor told you in person, keeping all of this knowledge bottled up within himself. He didn’t need to ask for reassurance or confirmation. He thought he’d be just fine without it, convincing himself that he knew you truly loved him to the moon and back.

But even those who were made of steel could easily be broken down with the comments he was receiving, making him doubt his own reality and strengths.

“Kevin, are you in there?”

At the sound of your soft voice from the other side of the door, Kevin immediately placed his phone face down on his nightstand, watching the way you slowly opened the door.

“Oh, you’re awake,” you whispered, stepping into his room. He sat up in his spot with a nod when you made your way over to him, seating yourself on the edge of his bed. “Did you miss me?”

His features scrunched up at the obvious question. “Huh? I didn’t even know you were gone,” he snorted sarcastically, quick to pull you into his arms.

Your laugh tugged the corners of his lips upward, choosing to gently press his lips against your temple.

Though, when he noticed the genuine smile that adorned his lips, it quickly disappeared, his thoughts from earlier resurfacing.

He grew quiet, having you both sit in silence in the dark. You figured he was sleepy, letting him rest his forehead on your shoulder with his eyes closed while your arms snaked around his torso, holding him close.

“...Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

More minutes of silence passed, Kevin trying his absolute best to organize his thoughts only for them to end up even worse than they were before. He knew it wasn’t you, but the tweets itself that made your touch feel so foreign against him, becoming more and more insecure about your love towards him.

“Y/N?” he repeated, his voice almost going unnoticed if it wasn’t for the pure silence shared between you two.

Before you could answer him for the second time, his heart spoke over his mind. “Tell me you love me,” he muttered, refusing to open his eyes to look at you. “It doesn’t have to be the truth, it’s just—I just…I need to hear you say it.”

“...Kevin?”

“Please Y/N,” he croaked, his heartache returning.

“Kevin.”

It felt like the entire world had stopped when he heard the sternness in your tone, wishing that you could just say those three words so he could be put at ease.

But all thoughts left when you brought his face into the palm of your hands, letting his eyes meet yours. He watched the way they sparkled in the dark, completely falling apart inside when noticing the amount of sincerity that they held as your thumbs grazed against his cheeks.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” His eyes fell shut once again, leaning forward to rest his head on your shoulder.

“It hurts me to hear you say that, you know?” you mumbled, stroking your fingers through his hair as you kept him close against you.

“Saying I love you too?”

“No, you dummy. I meant you telling me to say I love you whether I mean it or not. Is everything alright? Did something happen while I was away?”

When you received no answer, you let out a small sigh, knowing that you’ll get Kevin to speak another time.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I love you so much.”

“I know.”

“Kevin!”

He laughed, letting you push him down against the bed. He fought back by rolling you over, choosing to lie down on top of you with his chin resting on your chest. His smile returned, looking at you with all the love he could muster up within.

There may be a day when he does tell you everything; a day where he’s able to break down and cry in your arms, spilling about all that he’s read and the rumors that have been spread.

But right here, right now, he was here with you.

A/N ⋆ not much thought was put into this, but i'm somewhat slightly proud of it? hopefully others are able to feel what i wanted to portray

#ficscafe dpe #the boyz #kevin moon #the boyz kevin fluff #the boyz kevin angst #the boyz kevin drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #kevin x reader #kevin scenarios #kevin imagines #kevin timestamps #kevin fanfiction #kevin ff #the boyz fanfiction #the boyz ff

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aineryeo · 3 years

Text

Prominence ௹ ATSUMU

The letters of the first few days when you parted ways 📨

Prominence: “Find someone great, but don’t find someone better.” You’d say to yourself, though it was directed to your ex-boyfriend, writing in a number of papers, serving as letters. Awaiting your impending doom.

Timeskip! Atsumu x Reader

Synopsis: You break up with Atsumu Miya in hopes to alleviate his pain. And for what he'd have to deal with. » 6.2k Words

Warnings: Depictions of Mental Illnesses & actual disease, Angst, Suicidal tendencies, Cursing, Atsumu is an impulsive bitch, so is reader. Read at your own discretion. Do not read if this has any sort of possibility to trigger you, more if you feel encouraged to do something you shouldn’t. This isn’t what the fic is about.

It was a rainy day, droplets of water knocking on the window of what was your empty room. It wasn’t a space you were supposed to be getting used to at this point in your long life. A faint tune of a piano was penetrating through your thin walls as you stared into nothing in particular, maybe the particles that become visible with the peek of sunlight through the gray clouds piercing through your window pane.

Your body got up, but you had a stinging migraine, your limbs were weak, and today was an off-day from your work as a bustling city journalist. No phone calls for a sudden need for your presence in your job. Your blanket was wrapped around you loosely, your feet navigating through your creaking floors. How depressing.

Empty fridge.

Messy bed.

Disorganized papers.

And clothes in unsuspecting places.

Your clothes. None of his. You can’t even reminisce about him anymore. Your migraine seems to have gotten worse. You spot one of the few things that were left organized. Your letters. You grimaced, the pain suddenly pushed to the back of your head as you were reminded of the contents.

“It won’t be bad to see him, at least once.” You reason to yourself with a small smile, it wasn’t a happy one. Nonetheless it was one. One reason out of many when you were always reminded that he was already happy, that Atsumu no longer needed you, and your relationship was a ghost of the past.

It has been for a month now, how else would it go, when you were the one who ended it?

Yeah, it was a bad idea to see him. You scold yourself for coming here, furthering your torture. You see him with a huge smile, bigger than when he was with you. Brighter than when you last picked a joke, at least that was what you thought. You dated him since you were sixteen, young, and fresh in-love.

“Tsum, baby, not here.” You vaguely make out, from hiding behind one of the tall bleachers near the exit from where their practice usually resided in. She was very pretty, her voice silky. You hear a rumbling chuckle in return, you feel your spine shudder at the familiarity. “Hm, honey where do ya want me ta do it then? I jus’ can’t resist ya.” You took your small window to catch a glimpse of them. The perfect lovers.

This was selfish, you knew it. But you inwardly cheered for him, happy to know that he found someone great. That he was happy, even if it was at your expense. Your eyes were glossy, dams about to break, so you walk away; like you always do, like you always did. Your mouth formed into a shaky frown, your fists clenching ‘till you were white-knuckling nothing in particular. White-knuckling all your pain, perhaps.

It was when you exited the establishment, into the car park, into your cheap second-hand car, did your tears fall; until everything kept breaking, your multi-functional tape to bar all your emotions inside, failing you for the umpteenth time for the past month. You were all alone, still clutching your keys to open the door to the driver’s seat. When you felt a hand on your shoulder, which made you jolt, you were too surprised that you didn’t get to wipe your residual breakdown off your face.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Your blurry eyes adjusted, and your heart almost jumped at the familiar face. You turned your face away from him, you were too ashamed to show your face to him. To the brother of the man you were still in love with. You changed your voice a few octaves higher, “Yeah! Thanks, sorry you had to see that.” Mishandling your keys before being able to open it quickly, though Osamu stopped you just as fast.

“I know it’s you, Y/N.”

You froze. “I’m not—”

Hearing a small laugh from him made you stop. “I think I’ve seen your car enough times before, with the same plate to know that it’s you when I parked right next to it.” Turning back, he already had his hand out holding a handkerchief.

“Sorry.”

He smiled sympathetically at your small figure, noticing that you’ve gotten smaller than you already were. More fragile. So he placed his hand that was roughly the size of your face, gently on top of your head to stroke it, hoping to bring you some comfort; roughly knowing the situation about you and his brother. How couldn’t he?

“It’ll be okay.”

It’s not. You recall, already sitting in your bathtub, not really crying, not really feeling anything of the sort. You exhaled as if it lightened your burdens. It won’t be.

You hum. Knees to your chest, “Not when...” You sigh, not now.

It was time for work, tedious work that requires you to write articles and camp out places at 2am in the morning, only to turn up and camp out at a different place again, just hoping for an interview for your channel. You didn’t feel like breaking down at all, but it felt like everything is typically more down. You refused to eat when your co-workers asked you to join them, you had no appetite.

You hadn’t for weeks.

A heavy feeling is always stuck inside you. Like everything is screaming at you, but you can’t scream back. You just can’t. Always heaving sighs, always staring into what once was blue skies, turned dull grey. Was it because you regretted having to let go of him? Or was it because of the news you had received prior to when you left him? Was it because the one time you felt like you couldn’t walk, the doctor told you that you had a few left; extend your life with a surgery that was high-risk.

Your hand ran through your hair for the umpteenth time, thoughts drifting to whether you should just end it quicker than what you had. What was the point? You failed to notice that your hand was writing on another piece of paper, as if documenting everything that ran through your mind. And maybe you wanted them to find out, when you’re gone. So you don’t have to face the burden of facing them afterwards and giving them any answers.

But you don’t want to ruin the happiness Atsumu had right now. He’ll blame himself, but this was all your fault. You ended it with a bad note so he’d forget you easily, you yelled at him, told him that he was useless, you didn’t love him anymore. You open your eyes, seeing yourself back at the situation where it all began, and where it all ended.

“Atsumu, I hate you.”

“Angel, what are ya saying? I said I was sorry! I’m tired from practice.” He replied, he was tired. He was stressed. You were stressing him. And he was getting rightfully agitated, it was working.

Your thoughts briefly flash to the days before, same old. You chose to do it days slowly, so it wouldn’t be too sudden; so he’d lose all love for you once you leave him. So you nitpick him again, even though it never really bothered you, “You always do this. Maybe we should just...” You swallow, it was like eating hard, bitter candy at once.

“What? Break up? Yeah, with your incessant yappin’ these days, Y/N, I wouldn’t mind one bit.” He said, looking at you with a harsh gaze. Similar to when some random fan begins screaming during his serving routine. You were nothing now. You nodded, if he had the right mind that time, he would’ve noticed that you were eerily calm; you were expecting this, why wouldn’t you?

“Yeah, break up.” You confirmed, with a somber smile. He hadn’t even noticed that more than half of your things were already gone from your shared apartment. You had one last suitcase, it was right beside the door. Atsumu failed to notice all the little things disappearing, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he failed to also stop you before you hung your apron on the rack, turning the stove off, he was already gone. Into his bedroom, where he slept, too tired for anything his aching muscles couldn’t take right now. Your keys left untouched on the table before you left him altogether. Always, just always looking back with a heavy grimace.

The skies were the same color from that day, to everyday, same grey.

It wasn’t long before you found out he had a new love. Apparently an avid, and innocent fan of his whom he met during one of his morning runs in the park.

“What’re you writing there, Y/N?” One of your co-workers as of now, Akaashi Keiji, brought your head back up in the present. You hummed, folding the paper your hand subconsciously wrote in, and placing it in your pocket. “Nothing, really. My hand just kind of moves on its own when I think of anything in general.”

He smiles, sweet. “That’s endearing. Must be why you’re quite famous in the department.”

You chuckle, “I’m not famous, Keiji. If anything, this job just keeps giving me migraines. You’re the real MVP as a great editor in your dept.”

His hand was rubbing his nape, laughing softly with you. You stood up, supposed to get some water only to fall back down again. Your co-worker quickly catches you with worry etched in his delicate features.

“Y/N, have you been eating?” No, but..

“Keiji, I can’t feel my legs.”

It was showing.

You asked Keiji not to tell anyone, he in turn, asked if any of your family members knew this. It made you chortle, you said, “No. My grandmother died years ago, I’m an only child, and my parents didn’t last.” It wasn’t a funny thing, you knew that but it made you laugh anyway. Laugh at how pathetic you were.

He looked at you, on your bed at your home that he had kindly helped you in after calling your doctor from before. Saying it was that the disease was starting to become severe, causing your limbs, your legs, your arms, to lose its sensation. Slowly, you’ll become more agitated, and it’ll be harder for you to talk, or even move. Only your co-worker, and your boss knew for the time-being.

“You don’t have to help me. I know you’re busy.” You said, though weak, “I’ll only weigh you down.”

Keiji sighed, he knew that you worry too much about other people, he knew that you got lost enough to stop thinking about yourself. And it was sad, he empathized with you in the way that you were both overthinkers, though he’d understood for a while that you were more hasty with decision-making.

“No.” He said, simple.

You looked down at the blanket that covered your bottom half, your top half facing the big, musty, old window next to your bed. Facing away from Akaashi.

“Why?”

He was quiet for a few seconds, save for the usual noise from the surrounding roads. He looked up, before he looked back at your weak figure. “It’s just you—you’re all alone.” Walking around to the other side so he can face you. About to utter a tad more to his sentence, he stopped when he saw your eyes blown wide, a bit red at the bottom, a hard attempt to stop tears from falling. He didn’t miss a beat after, quickly crouching, and allowing your head to rest on his chest.

“So I thought you could use some company.”

You appreciated your co-worker, now close friend’s generous help. It’s been a few weeks, and you’ve been spending it cooped up in the hospital. He had also forced you to finally admit yourself so you can get immediate assistance in the case that something similar were to happen again. A similar event where he was forced to carry you to your car, and drive you home.

The cords stuck to your skin to hydrate you was a bother, but it was manageable. Here were your last few months alive. You still had no idea why you couldn’t just leave. You had no specific goal, you were bound to hit rock-bottom, and the least you can get is a few more months, maybe years of living if you get the surgery. There was no point, nothing to live for. You could work on your career, but what can you really do with legs that can barely stand, and… hands that can’t even pick up a pen.

The latter was the one that you cried to every night if you had tears to spare. The latter was the one where you try to continuously hit your head in hopes it can keep writing. It was such a simple task, why couldn’t it do its job? When Akaashi came to visit one afternoon, he had to rush and grab the sharp pen you had in your barely moving left hand, attempting to dig it in the skin of the right. Just to feel if it was still alive.

Then it was requested to have no pens, or sharp objects left near you without supervision. You’d call your friends, if by friends, you mean other than occasional visits from your co-workers that didn’t know much about your personal life; but still had the courtesy of visiting you nonetheless after hearing news from the boss, you’d consent to it since you were leaving the field. But he hasn’t fired you yet, apparently.

Sometimes it shifts, when your arms refuse to work, your legs will move for a bit, vice versa. A frown forms on your face when it happens to be both. Why couldn’t this just be quicker? You ponder, and hear the door open. Expecting the only person who visits you so frequently.

“Keij—” You stopped. He stopped. “What are you doing here?”

“Hm? So I can’t visit ya now?” Oh, his familiar tone.

“How did you even know I was here?” You said, a bit agitated.

“Asked one of yer co-workers.” He shrugged.

“...You visited my workplace? And they told you immediately?” You raised your brow, bringing your body up to sit on the bed instead. It was a feat on its own, but he’d seen your struggle, he was about to reach and help actually.

“Yeah, I had deliveries to make.” He said, leaning back. “And I may have made them slip it after overhearin’ yer name. Couldn’t resist my charm.”

“You’re ridiculous, ‘Samu.” You smiled, for the first time in a while. He could tell that it wasn’t a normal occurrence in a while, the thought of at least alleviating your stress for a bit eased a tide inside Osamu.

Osamu took his hat off, putting it on the table next to your bed. He was humoring you, because he didn’t want you to see the first look on his face when he confirmed that it really was you who's been confined here. Not any other person with the same name. He sat on the sofa beside you, next to the window. You’d lie if your heart didn’t clench at the sight of him, If you’d look inside, you’ll spot the tinge of pain; but outside, all Osamu could see was that you still adored him. By that, he meant his brother. He knew he might trigger you due to him being the twin of what was your love. Still is, he was sure.

Clearing his throat, your trance broke. “Y/N.”

“Hm.” You lay your back flat on the metal headboard covered in the white pillows of your white bed, in your white room.

“Why are you here?” It was true that Osamu had heard you were confined in the hospital while he was making deliveries to your place coincidentally, so he couldn’t help but perk his ears. Despite your break-up, he was still your childhood friend, and although he heard of the story of how it ended from none other than his brother’s dull voice on the phone that night he was closing up Onigiri Miya; he knew there must’ve been something that caused you to do that other than Atsumu himself. He’d investigate, and help rekindle the lifelong relationship you both shared if he wasn’t so busy himself. And if his brother hadn’t immediately used a rebound to inflict immediate pain upon you, maybe he’d have considered it.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged.

Osamu sighs, “You do. Tell me,” he looks at you with sincerity, placing his coarse palm from the work he’s been juggling in, on top of your pale, lifeless hands. Almost wincing at the cold temperature they held, “Please.”

You sucked in a breath, he placed his, what you assume to be, warm hand on top of yours. But you felt nothing. So you let it out, “I have Friedreich’s Ataxia. Apparently it’s genetic, uh, doesn’t allow me to use these flimsy things.” You glanced at your legs, slightly waving them along with your hands, “I can’t even feel the warmth of your hand right now. I mean, that is, if you’re warm. It’s always cold here. The doctors said they’d try to give me therapy and train me to walk again, or actually use my hands.” You chuckle.

“And something about heart surgery, though that won’t really extend my life for long.” You finish, opting to insert a joke that you thought was bright until you let it out, “Better than turning out blind though! Haha… Kidding, it may happen to me too, which sucks, by the way.”

Your rambling was cut off when you were met with an intense stare from Osamu. “And you’ve found out of this, when?”

“...Nearly 2 months.. Ago?” You gulped the lump that was stuck in your throat.

Osamu rested his elbows on his knees, thinking. “So that was the reason?”

You retained silence.

He sighs. “I knew it would be a valid reason, but I really wasn’t hoping it would be this.” His face hidden in his big hands, frustration was visible. But it was the breathy question of, “Why are the gods this cruel?” To which your eyes soften, albeit a little bit.

“Samu, can I ask a favor?”

He looks at you, face out of his palms. “Sure.”

“Can you… Turn the TV on?” He raised a brow at first before standing up and getting the remote by the stand, switching it on, immediately being greeted by the sports channel on Volleyball. Oh, they had a game today. He had nearly forgotten due to this new revelation from you. He looked at your face that was staring directly at the screen, then he saw the number thirteen, and his heart clenched tighter.

He placed the remote on the table beside your bed, and he took his black cap. He spun it on his finger for a bit, “I won’t tell ‘Sumu.”

You hummed again, before looking at him. “Thank you.” Then he smiles sweetly at you before turning around, his face immediately turning into a painful grimace. Because even he could feel the tragedy of this love.

Each day you were gone was a punch in the gut for Atsumu. His initial lack of reaction to his overreaction, trying to get back at you for leaving him. It was wrong. All he ever wanted was to call you, tell you to come back, have you in his arms, the lot. He’d miss the smell of your hair when he hugs you tight, or the clean apartment whenever he comes home to you beaming, cooking dinner; like his precious wife-to-be. Though he hadn’t proposed, the ring he bought for you started collecting dust in his drawer.

The girl he was with didn’t really last long, she broke it off after getting annoyed by him calling your name instead of hers on any normal occasion on impulse. His head in his hands, bed half-empty. His games gave him a little bit of adrenaline, but every time he sees the empty spot saved for you in his jersey, the adrenaline will scafe off, bit by bit. It’d be a lie if he said that he didn’t at least try to call your number in the past two months, he had actually, for a couple of times. But your number was unreachable, and your social media was non-existent.

It was like you weren’t real. Like a ghost. Sand that was slipping far from his fingers, his hold. His hold loosened in a moment of weakness.

To say his biggest regret was the night you left was a lie, because the biggest regret he ever made was never immediately trying to get you back. He was dazed off in the locker rooms after one of their games, his water bottle in hand. Hinata waved in front of him, Bokuto right next; to which his daze cut off.

“You okay, Tsum?”

He smiled, nodding. But his teammates knew it wasn’t the same for a while now. He was more rigid and tired in his movements. Probably not the kind of exhaustion that could be solved by sleep.

“Yeah, no worries.” Even Sakusa worriedly glances once in a while, he still cares, though not openly shown. Atsumu slung his gym bag over his shoulders after changing, he decided to visit his brother in his shop for now. He was walking out to drive when he accidentally bumped into someone, trapped in his little thoughts about you again.

“Oh—Sorry, didn’t see ya there.” Atsumu apologized, knowing it was his fault.

“It’s okay, Miya-san.” It took a few moments before Atsumu registered who this was.

“Akaashi? Keiji? Bokuto talks about ya all the time! Nice to meet ya.” He smiled, putting his hand out for him to shake. To which the latter man does. Oh, Akaashi recognizes him, not just from being his friend’s teammate; but from being your ex. He concluded in his thoughts by the few seconds they shook hands that he wished for him to not find out about you any longer. Thinking about the pain it would cause for both of you, especially him. They nodded at each other before bidding goodbyes and heading off to their own destinations.

Atsumu drove past the busy streets of the city, traffic holding him back a little bit. He was stopped a little bit in front of the city hospital. He didn’t know why, but his gaze lingered on the building a little longer than he’d like to admit. His left hand clutching the wheel, the other on the stick; Why does it feel like… He shakes his head to rid himself of ridiculous thoughts, seeing as the cars were finally moving, he did too.

Just as his foot pressed on the accelerator, his eyes landed on you. His eyes were the widest it had been, and this was the day he felt the most emotions since the day you left him.

“Y/N?” He asks, though his window was turned up and he was inside his car. He must be going crazy. Were you on a wheelchair? Was it really you? Or were his eyes playing tricks on him again, just like it had been every time he visited places he used to go with you. Or when he needed anything in particular, his first call in the apartment would be your name, expecting an answer back like you always had been.

He rolls his window down, and at that moment he swears your eyes met before you quickly changed vision. He’d run out of his car to chase you right now, if it weren’t for the honking behind him. Fuck.

He drives forward, and goes around to park for the hospital real quickly. Just to see if he wasn’t going insane by the amount of times he’d imagined seeing you again. He looks around the area, arriving at the greener part of the hospital, probably one of the places where they take some patients out for walks. Atsumu’s heart beats faster when he sees the same beautifully familiar hair, and angelic face he’s fallen in love with. He misses a beat, he stops, just plainly admiring; he notices your weaker stature, and your crest-fallen face. Paler skin, and limp limbs. And for that mistake, he fails to notice you were being guided in already.

He panics. About to bolt when he suddenly trips over his feet, and gets a bloody knee as the door closes. That doesn’t stop Atsumu, no, he’s dealt with much worse; one of which was the pain of not having you in his life. So he runs, and he sees the wheelchair you resided in enter the elevator; and once again, he swears, he swears, that his breath catches in his throat as he sees your eyes, and you see his.

And maybe he didn’t know, and maybe you didn’t know, but for the first time in months, you both saw colors.

“She was there, ‘Samu, I was sure of it!” Atsumu yells even in the midday of the bustling Onigiri Miya.

“Yer delusional as always, ‘Sumu. Ya should get yer head checked.” Osamu says from the kitchen in the back, there was faint squealing from the men and women alike in the restaurant. Feeling blessed for being able to witness the Miya twins in one sitting. And bantering, no less; even if it was over a girl.

“I can’t have mistaken it. I know when I see ma’ girl, Samu. Ya know it.” Atsumu groans, burying his head in his arms on the counter. “But when I asked the nurses, none of ‘em are giving me details. They say there ain’t Y/N L/N on their recent list of confined patients.”

Osamu was lucky he was working the kitchen right now, because he was low-key nervous of what to say, to not compromise you. How was his brother so close to it anyway? He wants to drive him away. He thinks he can agree with your rationale, but when he thinks of his brother’s side, wouldn’t it be more painful to just find out that you were just… Gone? His mind was splitting in half because of this dreaded situation, until Atsumu called him out again.

“Hey, ya scrub! Are ya even listening to me?” Atsumu lightheartedly yelled as Osamu’s heart softened. If anything, he didn’t want to see his brother bear the pain of losing you, permanently.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut yer trap. I have a business running here. Yer scaring off the customers.” Osamu says, getting out of the kitchen, arms crossed with a scowl.

“Help me, Samu. I just… Can’t bear to lose her.” Atsumu finally says, with a lace of evident longing. Osamu’s face contorts into a myriad of reactions that he couldn’t pick from. Before he settled with a sigh, and a lean on his forearms to poke his brother roughly on the forehead. A grunt of pain from the blonde.

“The only one who can help ya is yerself. If ya want to go find her, go ahead. Whatever your choice will be, don’t let it end with regret.” Was all he said before he went away to tend to the girls who were about to order, red-faced, and all.

Atsumu didn’t understand it a bit. How was that supposed to help him? He thinks. His fist digging into his cheek, face contorted into heavy thinking. It went on like that. He had no other clue, but he kept visiting the hospital, kept driving through, hoping he could catch a glimpse of you; to prove to himself that you were real. But for the first few days, he had no sign of you whatsoever. He kept bugging the nurses, or at least asking them everyday and ended up getting rejected again, and again, and again.

He sat in his car parked in the hospital on his free-day. As if a lightbulb turned on, he felt stupid for not visiting your workplace. They should at least know something about you, right? You were pretty well-known, and idolized in the industry. So he drove there, he may or may not have sped up a little more than he should but all in good purpose. He arrived there, and immediately knew where to park, the signature spot for everytime he comes to drive you home. Recently hearing that you bought a car when you broke up with him, made him sink a little bit. But he saw the spot was taken, eyebrows furrowing for a little before parking to the spot next to it.

When he got out, he noticed that the car that took your spot had dusting on it. As if it hadn’t been let out in a while. Or used. Quickly putting two-and-two together, maybe this was your car? The one you had bought? And if it hadn’t been used in a while… Then that supports his thoughts about you being in the hospital. His face shifted into worry. That must mean.. Whatever you had been sick of, was serious if you haven’t been using your car as often, considering your job was hectic.

He shook the thoughts off for a while, determined to find more clues about you instead. But he thinks the search suddenly became too easy when he suddenly heard a few gossiping women.

“Oh, poor Ms. L/N… She’s been hospitalized for a month now.”

“Really? Have you heard of any reason why?”

“I’m still unsure but I heard it’s chronic, and she doesn’t really have long.”

He sucks in a harsh breath. What? His ears perk up more to their conversation. He hides behind a wall, he assumes that they’re probably heading for their lunch break as a group right now.

Then a snicker, “I know this is kind of mean, but who’ll be replacing her now? Surely her position is up for debate.”

Atsumu’s face darkens at this. Stepping out of the wall as his big frame became all the more intimidating, “I mean, she’ll be biting the dust sooner or—”

“Shut your damn mouth, filthy whore.” Atsumu says with a sneer. Chin up, looking down. “Continue that sentence and I’ll see who bites the fuckin’ dust first.” A whimper, “It’s him again!” Shuffled feet, then they’re gone and out of his sights.

It takes a sigh, and a slump in his posture before everything sinks in. What does this mean? Is it.. True?

He shook his head, sure, you weren’t looking so good when he last saw you. You looked especially sick. But it was like nobody, not even the universe, had wanted him to see you. He thought back to the gossiping workers earlier. It’s him again? Atsumu hasn’t visited in a while, and he doesn’t think that he’s seen them… Oh.

Fuck, Osamu.

He could pass off as a professional racer with the speed he was driving at, only lucky enough to not have any cops tailing him. He was breathing heavily, his brother knew about you and didn’t tell him anything apart from that vague statement a few days ago? He couldn’t help the light betrayal he felt but in all honesty, he’d much rather force his brother to take him to you now. So when he arrived in Onigiri Miya, he didn’t waste a second dragging his brother out who was grumbling incessantly.

“The fuck ‘Sumu, I have a business to run!”

“No you, The fuck ‘Samu. You knew where Y/N was? Take me to her, now.” Atsumu said, foot on the ground, he won’t let anything come between his decisions now. Taking the bag of Onigiri from Osamu’s hand, “I’ll take this too. I’ll pay for it, I need to give a treat at least but we’re kind of in a hurry.” Osamu sighed, finally getting the gist of the situation. Deciding to spare his brother, he’d have to apologize to you later for spilling the beans. But he thinks he needs to let his brother let his feelings out as well.

“Okay.”

“No, you don’t have any other cho—Okay. Okay, get in the car.”

Osamu briefly yells at the part-timer he recently hired, telling them to take over for a while. To which they nodded eagerly, and so, the brothers left. Save for the quiet ride for the first few minutes. “...How—” Atsumu clears his throat, “How is she?”

A quiet beat, Osamu thinks of his answer. He settles for a passive one, “Okay.”

“Hn.” Atsumu grunts.

Osamu leans back on the passenger seat, “Just… Just make sure you don’t regret any of this.”

Atsumu raises a thick brow at this, “Why would I?”

“I think you already know why.”

He sucks in a harsh breath at this, and the silence remains. Atsumu reaches the hospital, parks the car, and Osamu leads the way to your room. Every step Atsumu took felt like the ground was shaking and trying to eat him whole. He wanted to see your pretty face again, your smile that could make his day whole and puff his chest out, or your hands that would comb through his hair and ask how it’s so soft when he bleaches it regularly.

So why was he seeing your writhing body under nurses yelling your name this time. Osamu breathes in, slowly understanding the situation as he quickly glances at his brother who was frozen. Both of them kept walking, until they were in front of what was supposed to be your room. Door open, and multiple people, trying to keep you alive. He hears that the doctor is coming, that you should wait, that you’ll get better in no time, at this point Atsumu didn’t know if the reassurances were for him instead.

When he sees your weak hand gripping the railing of your bed, he breaks. The bag of Onigiri long forgotten on the floor as he runs towards your bed.

“Darling, hey, hey, Angel, you—Yer okay, yeah? You’ll be fine, please be okay.” Atsumu says with shaky hands gripping yours, it was intensely cold, as if you weren’t even alive in the first place. He wishes so much that he was the one to give you warmth. “Look at me, you’ll be okay.”

And for the second time in a while, your eyes meet his, your weak, fragile, pretty little eyes; finally meeting him. The nurses noticed you calming down more, but your state wasn’t getting any better. They were initially going to let Atsumu out, but noticing the intimate relationship you two seemed to have displayed, they decided against it. More focused on bringing you back to life.

You had the heart surgery. You took the leap to extend your life, ever since you caught a glimpse of him a few days back; you just knew that the biggest regret you’d ever have is to never try. You told Akaashi when he visited that you were deciding on it, and he was supportive. He was really supportive. But you weren’t blind that it was a risk that may also shorten your life instead. Though wasn’t that what you were asking for, this whole time?

So maybe the time you got out of the surgery unscathed was the calm before the storm, it was the calm before this. But you were glad that even through your hazy vision, it was him that showed. It was Atsumu that kept telling you to look into his pretty eyes, and tell you that you’ll be okay.

Atsumu thinks that even in this situation, you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. So when the most beautiful thing slipped from his grasp, with no chance of clutching it back; his heart is torn, and burnt into crisps, non-existent flakes as his mind replays every memory he’s ever had with you, and how he was standing and watching warm, sunny spring turn into the ruthless, cold winter.

Osamu watched his brother break down in front of your bed, his own tears mixing in the lot, his cap covering most of his face. Another familiar figure that frequented visits with you, a solemn expression on his usual calm face. Heavy feeling on his chest, Akaashi approached the man who lay on his knees in front of your bed while the nurses that were scrambling to keep your life had promptly announced the date and time of your death.

Akaashi handed the box in his hand towards Atsumu who was kneeling with all his might, head on the ground, continuously asking for forgiveness from you, continuously asking for more time, just a little more. He hates this, he hates it. Because, when it sank in, you were gone.

The scene of your death. ⁆ To Visualize :) But instead of it being Kousei playing the piano, it's Atsumu when he plays volleyball, but when someone comes up to him, tapping on his back with a bright smile for an interview after the game; it's not you.

#Atsumu Miya #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #break up #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #timeskip atsumu #timeskip haikyuu #Akaashi Keiji #Atsumu angst #MSBY

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spine-buster · 3 years

Text

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 33

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this one...⛪️

August 7th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was nervous as fuck.

It was Game 4, less than 24 hours after giving up a 3-0 lead, and the Leafs were on the brink of elimination. The boys were quiet. Focused. Only had one thing on their mind. They didn’t want to leave the bubble. They wanted to prove everybody wrong – everybody. Their coaches. Their bosses. Their fans. Their haters. The media. Themselves. This was their opportunity to show everybody what they could do.

Aberdeen couldn’t even think about it without trembling. She never in a million years thought hockey would make her feel this way. It didn’t help the love of her life was a major part of it. And it didn’t help that Alec had texted her early this morning.

Looks like the boys might cost you a writing job if they get eliminated early. Not many shenanigans to get up to in, what, ten days? Article might be a bust.

I’ll have 10,000 words written for you as promised was what she texted back. She didn’t want to stroke his ego, play along with his games, or have him think she wasn’t going to produce just because he thought they might leave early. It didn’t matter to her. Even if they did leave early, she could still do it. She knew she could. She knew she had to, because she couldn’t blow this opportunity.

They morning had been anxiety-ridden at best. She hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep, tossing and turning after getting off the phone with William, and then because of the text, she was barely eating breakfast. Apparently, it was noticeable to the boys, because John had come over to her table and brought her a plate stacked fruit. “If we can eat, you can eat,” he said as he set it in front of her. Mitch ended up coming to sit across from her at the table, and John took the other seat. William approached, standing six feet away, and Auston too. They were congregating, which made her even more nervous.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, forking a strawberry and putting it into her mouth reluctantly. “You guys aren’t nervous?” she posed the question to all of them.

John shrugged. “We know what we need to do. We just have to go out there and do it.”

Aberdeen didn’t know how he could be so calm, as the captain of the team. Then again, he was John fucking Tavares, and calm seemed to be his middle name. She nodded her head. “I don’t mean to be a nervous wreck. I’m just not used to playoff hockey, as you can imagine. This is all new. I never knew I could feel this way about a sport.”

That made John laugh a bit. “Not about a sport, but definitely about a book, right?”

She couldn’t help but smile slightly as she forked at a piece of watermelon. “Definitely about a book.”

“How’s the article coming along?” William asked.

Aberdeen almost dropped her fork on her plate. All the guys turned their heads towards him at the same time skeptically, then towards her at the same time, their eyebrows furrowed. Her body felt like it was on fire. She hadn’t told anybody about the article – except William, of course. She assumed Brendan sort-of-kind-of knew since he set her up for it, but she hadn’t said anything to him. William was the only one who knew. Her cheeks flushed red.

“What article?” Mitch asked, turning his head back and forth between the two of them once more.

“Yeah, what article?” Auston asked.

“It uh, it’s—um, it’s a thing for Toronto Life,” Aberdeen stuttered out.

“Toronto Life?!” Mitch repeated excitedly.

“Yeah,” she nodded slowly. “Brendan uh, Brendan put me up for it. It’s, like…an audition. I don’t know.”

“An audition? So like if it’s good they’ll publish it?” Mitch kept asking questions.

“Basically, yeah.”

“Well what’s it about?”

Aberdeen gulped. “Um, life in the bubble.”

The boys looked taken aback for a brief moment. She knew they were trying to hold back the emotion, but she could see it in their eyes. She wondered if they were thinking the worst now. She wondered if Auston was looking at her and thinking that all she wanted to do in this bubble was get a scoop like Steve Simmons. She wondered if Mitch was looking at her and thinking that she was going to write some scathing article about how he was being paid $10.8 million to not show up in the playoffs, like most articles were saying. She prepared for the worst, honestly. She really did. Because she knew these guys had been betrayed before. She knew the media were constantly down their throats. She knew all they wanted was a little reprieve from that. And now, someone they knew, someone they worked with – someone they trusted completely – was writing something about life in the bubble? When she was in the bubble with them?

“Life in the bubble, huh? So, like how we play video games the entire day ‘cause we can’t do anything else in here?” Mitch asked.

Her stomach was in knots. But that follow-up from Mitch was definitely not was she was expecting. Truth be told, she didn’t know what she was expecting – anger, maybe? Caution? Suspicion? – but it definitely wasn’t Mitch saying that. “Something like that,” she said. “I’m trying to, like, capture how hard it is for you guys to be in here. How hard it is to be away from your families. How you guys are…you know, human, and not just hockey players.”

Mitch smiled. “I think it’s gonna be a great article, then.”

“How’d William know?” Auston asked. “How’d he know before any of us?”

William knew he had to think fast. “I saw her writing it the other day when we went out to the gym,” he said. He had approached her on the sidelines that day for a brief minute or two, during a break in his workout, so if anyone was paying attention and saw them, it was an entirely plausible scenario. “She told me what she was writing.”

“Why didn’t you tell any of us?” Auston asked him.

“Because it was Aberdeen’s news to tell, not mine,” William said.

Auston looked towards Aberdeen. “You’re not writing, like, gossip about us, are you?” he asked.

“Auston, what the fuck—” William began.

“Buddy—” Mitch intervened.

“Hey now—” John piped up.

“No no, it’s fine,” she waved the boys off, staring directly at Auston. She knew exactly where Auston was coming from. She knew he trusted her. He admitted so during the phone call when his Covid-19 story became national news. She knew she had to be one hundred percent honest with him if he was going to have no qualms or suspicions about this article. “They want me to. They want me to write about shenanigans. The stereotypical stuff. But I’m not. I refuse to. I wouldn’t…you guys know I wouldn’t do that to you. And I mean…I—I haven’t told them yet that I refuse to pander to that shit, but they’ll know when they get my article.”

Auston’s entire demeanour softened at her words. It was like his entire body relaxed. He knew – he always knew – he just needed the affirmation. But then he realized what that meant. “But then what happens if you don’t get the job because you don’t give them what they want?” he asked.

Aberdeen shrugged. “Then I have keep looking for writing jobs at other magazines.”

Then and there, he realized what was on the line for Aberdeen.

***

As Aberdeen wallowed in her room, she was nervous. As she showered before the game, she was nervous. As she did her hair, she was nervous. As she got dressed, she was nervous. As she opened her door and walked out into the hallway, meeting some of the guys, she was nervous. When she got off the bus and the team went one way while she, Brendan, and Kyle went another, she clutched at her iPad pro. She looked at the boys one last time, catching Willy’s eye, before the disappeared down the hallway, where no doubt a photographer was waiting to get pictures of their outfits before they went into the locker room.

As she sat in the box with Brendan and Kyle, as always, she saw Brendan look her way. “Don’t even think about asking me how it’s gonna go tonight,” she said before he could even open his mouth.

He held his hands up in front of him. “Excuuuuuuse me.”

“I’m so nervous. I barely ate today,” she elaborated.

“Somebody get Aberdeen a Coca Cola,” he called out to no-one in particular. “She’s gonna need the sugar and the caffeine or else she’ll crash by the third period.”

She couldn’t believe how light-hearted he was being. She didn’t know if it was some type of coping mechanism or if it was because he was generally in a good mood. “How can you be so…calm? Such a jokester?”

Brendan shrugged. “If I was doom and gloom all the time, I wouldn’t still be president.”

***

Aberdeen was on the verge of tears.

Cam Atkinson had scored in the first period. Vladislav Gavrikov scored in the second period. Her heart was heavy. Her stomach was in knots. And now, the impossible: she was watching Jason Spezza fighting. The last person who should be fighting. A part of her understood what he was doing, somewhat – trying to fire up the guys – but the other part of her kept asking why the fuck does he have to do this? Where the fuck are they? Why aren’t they playing? WHY AREN’T THEY PLAYING?!

“I can’t believe they’re fucking doing this to him,” she mumbled under her breath through gritted teeth as she watched Jason skate off the ice. Her knuckles were white for how tightly her hands were in fists in front of her mask. Her leg was bouncing uncontrollably. She couldn’t believe what was happening.

“What was that?” Brendan asked, apparently hearing her, his own voice indiscernible but also just…void of any emotion.

She glanced at him quickly before shaking her head. “Nothing.” She looked over at Kyle. She couldn’t tell what he was feeling, either. What was it with these men and being so stoic?

She pressed the palms of her hands together and intertwined her fingers. “God, if you love me…” she began, mumbling into her hands. “If you love me, God, don’t let them go out like this. Not. Like. This.”

***

Boone Jenner scored in the third period. It was 3-0. This was it.

Aberdeen had to come to terms with the fact that they were leaving early. She had to come to terms with the fact that the boys would lose, again. They’d be out of the bubble. She knew that was probably a silver lining, but these guys so desperately just wanted to play hockey and play hockey and win, and for them to crash out like this was just going to be the worst. They’d never hear the end of it. Bee McTavish told her about last year, about how they lost to the Boston Bruins in Game 7 and how hard it was on the boys, particularly Morgan, and how awful the media was to them, and Aberdeen didn’t want to think about what the media would say now. She didn’t want to think about what they’d say about Fred. About Mitch. About Morgan. About John.

About William.

But just as Aberdeen came out of her thoughts, she noticed something weird on the ice. It wasn’t the regular line out there. Sheldon was doing something different. It was…well, it seemed to be the nuclear option. All the top goal scorers were on the ice. William, Mitch, Zach, Auston, and John. Hustling all over the ice. Passing the puck. Shooting at the net.

And then, with just less than four minutes left, William scored.

Aberdeen jumped out of her seat and screamed. The boys celebrated briefly, but they knew more work needed to be done. She looked over at Brendan, who wasn’t blinking as he looked down at the ice. She looked at Kyle, who wasn’t blinking either.

“Please God…please…” she whispered to herself.

Sheldon kept out the nuclear option. They were young. They could do it.

John Tavares scored only forty seconds later.

“Holy fucking shit,” Aberdeen stood up from her seat, saying her words loud enough for Brendan and Kyle to hear. “Holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit.”

She barely breathed a single breath for the next two and a half minutes. She was standing with her hands over her mouth over her mask and her body was completely still as she watched every move on the ice like a hawk.

William, to Auston, to Zach, who scored to tie it at 3-3.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!!!” she screamed as the boys really celebrated on the ice now. She banged her fists on the counter in front of her as she watched Zach jump on top of William as all the boys on the ice huddled together excitedly. She swore she heard some happy swears from Kyle, and she definitely heard some happy swears from the extra players who were sitting in the seats right below them where the seat covers ended. She barely remembered the period ending.

“They’re gonna fucking do it,” she said to no-one in particular. “They’re gonna fucking do it. They’re gonna make a comeback.”

Everything was a blur as Aberdeen sat back down into her seat. The overtime period. The lines. The minutes. She felt like she was in the twilight zone – some alternate universe where time stood still and nothing else mattered besides hockey. Not even just hockey – nothing else mattered besides this game and what was happening right here, right now. Seven minutes into overtime, Morgan drew a tripping penalty. An enraged Nick Foligno was sent to the penalty box. The puck dropped. It was passed. Marner to Tavares. Tavares to Matthews.

Auston let it rip and scored.

“WHAT!!!!! WHAT!!!!!” Aberdeen screamed louder than she ever had in her life as she jumped up from her seat like a rocket and threw the pen she was holding out into the stands. She began pumping her fist in front of her and pointing out onto the ice. “THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT, BABY! THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!” she shrieked, her jaw somewhere between her face and the floor but her smile taking up her entire face. Then came the excited, can’t-believe-what-I-just-witnessed high pitched uncontrollable laughs. She looked over to Brendan and Kyle. They were stoic. She liked to believe they already freaked out and she missed it.

“Down 3-0 in the third period!” she screamed at them. “Down 3-0 in the third period! Can you believe it?!”

“What are you doing waiting up here? Go down there,” Brendan said, nodding his head towards the exit.

Aberdeen bolted out of the box and rushed towards the locker room as quickly as her feet could take her. Once she got there, she saw the boys filing in, screaming ‘Woooo!’s and ‘Let’s fucking go, baby!’s. William entered the locker room first. He noticed her standing in the room almost immediately and rushed over to her.

She held her breath.

He picked her up and spun her around, causing her to squeal until he set her down. He was wet and sweaty and she could see the droplets of sweat dripping down his face but God if he didn’t look incredible and like the perfect human specimen. “Let’s gooooo!” he screamed once he set her down.

“Let’s gooooo!” she repeated, noticing more of the boys make their way in. Clifford. Spezza. Kerfoot. Barrie. Kasperi. Hyman. Engvall. Rielly. Tavares. Holl. Dermott. Everybody. Everybody. They all came in screaming and did the exact same thing that William did, lifting her up and spinning her around excitedly as they continued to scream and go their stalls and start stripping in front of her. They probably weren’t allowed to do that – they definitely weren’t allowed to do that, be that close together – but it didn’t matter right now. Nobody cared.

“You guys gave me a fucking heart attack!” she yelled at them, clutching her heart as she looked around the room at all of them. She saw a couple of them giggling as they undid their hockey tape and threw it into the garbage.

“Wouldn’t have been a Leafs series without one!” Morgan joked.

Sheldon walked into the room and high-fived Aberdeen. Then Auston walked in and the boys started screaming and yelling all over again. “Let’s fucking goooo, Aberdeen!” he screamed as he picked her up too, one last twirl, before setting her down. “Let’s fucking go, baby!” he screamed to everyone in the room.

It was at that point that Brendan and Kyle walked into the room. Aberdeen composed herself as much as possible as she faded into the background, watching Sheldon give his post-game speech. Everybody looked so happy. So excited.

They could fucking do this.

***

Aberdeen was typing like a furious mad woman in the Notes on her phone. She wanted to write – needed to write all the authentic feelings that were in the air right now as she waited on the bus for everyone. She needed to remember this moment. Every single detail of it. What was said. What was heard. The smiles. The spins. How she was still dizzy.

“Hey Aberdeen! You made it on to TV!” Mitch yelled from the middle of the bus.

Everyone’s head popped up, and she watched as all the guys already on the bus took off their headphones. “What?!” she shrieked.

“They caught you celebrating in the box!” he said, turning his phone and showing her the video.

Aberdeen heard all of the boys get up out of their seats and crowd behind her to watch the video. She noticed the Sportsnet logo on the bottom of screen first and foremost, then listened as she heard the announcers describing the scene, which they replayed in slow fucking motion. “I think that young lady is indicative of most of Leafs Nation right now!” she heard Jim Hughson’s voice as the video showed her jumping up from her seat and throwing her pen. The boys behind her were howling as they watched, and when she began pumping her fist in front of her, they laughed some more. Slightly embarrassed, Aberdeen buried her head in her hands and shook her head. “It’s always me! Why is it always me that gets caught doing these things?!”

“The camera loves you, Aberdeen!” Mitch giggled.

“It happens to all the wives and girlfriends at some point,” Morgan said as most of the guys went back to their seats on the bus.

“But I’m not a wife. Or a girlfriend!”

She could tell Morgan was smiling behind his mask. “Not yet,” he mumbled to himself, shrugging.

Aberdeen turned red. She sat back down in her seat and continued typing away on her phone furiously, making sure nobody saw her skin hue.

***

It was only when everybody got back to the hotel when Aberdeen had to stop typing, but by then, she was sure she’d gotten every feeling. Everybody was still buzzed as they rode two at a time in the elevator up to their floor, and she could still feel the energy even when she was bottled up in her room – like everybody else – and it was eerily silent after just having been so loud.

She had just finished changing into her pajamas when she heard her phone buzz. She knew it was William texting, so she grabbed her phone immediately, ready for his request to FaceTime.

open ur door really slowly so it doesn’t make any noise

Her eyes bulged out of her head. She set her phone down and rushed over to her door, not bothering to look out the peephole, but doing exactly what she was told. She opened it slowly, carefully, making sure not to make a peep. She looked out into the hallway, down to the other wing, and saw William’s head popping out of his own room. He rushed out, closing the door quietly before rushing over to her wing.

“William,” she whispered. Her heart was beating out of her chest. He was not allowed to do this. He was not allowed to do this. She watched as he made his way over. “William what are you—”

She was silenced by his slipping past her and into her room, putting his hand over hers to shut the door slowly so it didn’t make a clicking sound. When it was closed, she tried one more time. “Willy—”

Her attempt was futile. He crashed his lips against hers, wrapping his arms around her as he squeezed her against his body, so much so that he could lift her up in his arms and she could wrap her legs around his torso. He stuck his tongue down her throat. She moaned out at the sensation before realizing that he was walking them into her bathroom – her bathroom that faced the open area in front of the elevators, and not facing or sharing a wall with her room neighbour. He kicked the door closed with his foot before setting her down on the marble vanity sink, her legs still wrapped around his body keeping him close.

“Take this off,” he mumbled as he tugged violently at her pajama shirt, almost ripping it as she shoved her off her body and threw it across the bathroom. She pulled on his t-shirt too, throwing it in the same direction as they crashed their lips against each other’s again.

“We’re not supposed to be doing this,” she whispered out after he bit down on her bottom lip and pulled it away from her. “You’re not supposed to be in my room. We’re breaking the rules.”

“Isn’t that half the fun?” he quipped, a small smirk on his face. Aberdeen could feel her body get hot – hotter than it already was. This was so wrong. So wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be in her room. They weren’t supposed to be touching. They weren’t supposed to be kissing. They weren’t supposed to be doing any of it, yet here Aberdeen was, her body heating up and her core getting even hotter. She scratched her nails down William’s broad and toned chest as he kissed a trail down her neck and to her breasts, sucking and biting down at her nipples gently, causing her to gasp out.

He immediately put his hand over her mouth. Her eyes went wide. He looked up at her from where he was at her breasts. “You can’t be too loud or else we’ll get caught.”

Oh my fucking God. Now she really felt her body light up like a fire. She whimpered slightly. “But Willy—” she tried to mumble against his hand.

“Shhhh…” he cooed. “Can you be quiet, Aberdeen? Can you be quiet while I fuck you?” He was waiting for an answer. She felt a shiver run up her spine. She nodded her head. “That’s my girl.”

William continued paying attention to her breasts before kissing his way back up to her lips and sticking his tongue down her throat again. Aberdeen ran her fingers through his hair and tugged on it slightly before scratching down his back and pulling down his trackpants and underwear. He did the same to her, letting his fingers play with the wet folds of her pussy until he heard whimpers from her again. “Quiiiiiet, Aberdeen,” he cooed once more, bringing his hand that was just playing with her pussy up to her lips.

She grabbed his hand in both her hands and sucked his fingers into her mouth. “I’m not going to be able to,” she whispered, shaking her head.

William pulled her off the marble vanity, grabbing her hips and spinning her around so her back was against his chest. They were able to see each other through the mirror. Aberdeen watched as William’s hand snaked around her body and down to her hot core again. “You’re going to have to be quiet or we’ll get caught,” he whispered huskily in her ear as he played with her core again. Her legs were shaking at the feeling. She gripped on to the vanity.

“Fuck me raw, Willy,” she begged. She had her own tricks up her sleeve. If William was going to play this game, she was going to play hers. She watched his reaction in the mirror and could see his pupils dilate. “I started birth control. It’s okay.”

“You what?”

“I started birth control a month ago. It was supposed to be a surprise but—”

“—Aberdeen—”

“—Please Willy,” she begged, her voice breathless. She could feel his hard cock against her body and was so desperate for it, she didn’t care how wrong this was. “Fuck me raw. Fuck. Me. Raw.”

He bent her over the vanity. She stuck her ass out and kept her eyes on him through the mirror, watching as he positioned himself at her entrance, sliding into her easily. She cried out at the sensation, feeling his hand almost automatically cover her mouth to silence her. When he began moving in and out of her, the sound of their flesh smacking together, she didn’t know if she should close her eyes to revel in the feeling of his slick, hard cock filling her up, or if she should keep her eyes open to watch him fucking her hard and fast through the mirror. She chose the latter. She and William had had many sexual escapades before (sexcapades, if you will), but nothing had been as hot or as raw or as dangerous as this was. The exhilaration of doing a completely banned act – banned since they figured out they were working together, even more so banned now – was giving her the ultimate rush.

His hand was still over her mouth as she arched her back and William pulled her back against his chest. She could feel herself getting close, and when William’s other hand snaked around once more to play with her clit, she tried to cry out but couldn’t. “Are you gonna be quiet when I make you cum?”

She shook her head. “I won’t. I can’t.”

He thrusted into her harder, trying to make a point. She whimpered again and his hand somehow tightened around her mouth. “Are you gonna be quiet?” he asked again. She looked at him through the mirror, seeing the absolute fire in his eyes. She knew what he was looking for. She knew he would tease her and tease her and tease her until she agreed to what he was asking. She nodded slowly. He smiled. “Good.”

He quickened his pace, harder and faster and rougher than before, and Aberdeen continued to watch them fucking through the mirror until she could feel closer and closer to her sweet release. Eventually, her legs began to shake, and she could feel an intense orgasm rush through every single inch of her body. She tried to stay as quiet as possible, but the feeling was too much, and her whimpers escaped her, though they were much quieter than the usual vocal performances she usually gave when she and William had sex, and though William still had his hand over her mouth. At the sound of her stifled whimpers she could feel William’s hot cum spill inside her. The feeling was hot and raw and simultaneously everything she imagined it would be and feel like but also completely new and unlike anything she could have ever expected. His own small grunts escaped his mouth as he felt himself empty inside of her, revelling in the feeling of filling her completely. He eventually let go of her mouth, and her body bent over against the marble vanity again, unable to stand up straight due to the long, intense orgasm. He tried to catch his breath as he continued to watch her body shake, the last of her orgasm rushing through her. He could see her chest rising and falling from her trying to catch her breath.

It was a few minutes before Aberdeen and William could regain their breaths. He slipped out of her slowly, and she whimpered again at the loss of him, still bent over the vanity, though she could still feel a slickness between her thighs. She felt his body bend too, his chest on her back, and felt him kiss her shoulders delicately. She craned her neck to get a look at him. “I better get a writing job soon. I don’t think we’re gonna be able to hold it back for much longer,” she whispered.

William giggled – a low, rumbly giggle from his chest as he smiled and continued placing kisses on her shoulder. “I agree,” he whispered back. “We gotta make sure you get that Toronto Life job.”

She bit her lip. “Did it feel good for you?”

He nodded. “Of course. What about for you? Did it feel different?”

“It felt fucking amazing,” she nodded. “It…it did feel different. I…you’re the first one I’ve ever let fuck me raw,” she admitted.

William nodded in understanding. He knew what she was really saying – that this was, at least physically, the ultimate form of trust, and he was the only one in her life, ever, who she trusted that much. “We can keep doing whatever you’re more comfortable with,” he said.

“I liked this. I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back,” she giggled slightly.

William smiled. He pulled her back upright and, at that point, she could stand on her own again. She spun around so she was facing him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down to kiss him. They stood in her bathroom kissing for a while until William pulled away slightly. “I love you so much,” he mumbled.

“I love you too.”

“Sorry I made you break the rules…yet again,” he smiled mischievously.

Aberdeen winked. “Isn’t that half the fun?”

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merakiaes · 4 years

Text

Rainy Morning - Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: Really soft smut, not very detailed and pretty quick but smut nonetheless so beware. Also probably a bit OOC, but hopefully not too much😅 Like the last fic I posted this is mostly narrative and barely any dialogue, requested by the same person as the last. I hope you like it and let me know what you think, feedback means the world!💕 (Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes)

Wordcount: 2002

Summary: Rain and thunderstorms sets the best, most passionate mood.

A rainy morning was a lovely gift, bringing with it the opportunity to sleep in late on a day off from work and not feel guilty about it, and also happening to set a really good mood for early morning love making.

The crisp chill of the air contrasting against your feverishly hot skin and making the comfort of the bed all so much more satisfying, the sound of the claps of thunder and the heavy rain pattering against the roof and windows, and the flashes of lightning that occasionally lit up the dark room, allowing you to see every part of the man you loved, oh, so much.

The clock was no more than 4:53am but the two of you were still wide awake, having been awoken from your slumber by the loud heavenly ruckus and not wanting to fall back asleep once the cozy atmosphere in the room had dawned upon you.

Getting to take your time exploring each other was a rare thing for you, between having to keep a watchful eye on Jack also having your separate but equally as time-demanding jobs.

At the beginning of your relationship, back when you hadn’t been living together and only went out on dates at most once a week, you were always alone and able to spend hours in bed together.

But now that you lived together as a family under the same roof, you had to make do with the little time you got, and this was a better opportunity than you’d been faced with in a long while.

So you didn’t waste any time.

Hotch was already fully erected by the time you woke up, his testosterone levels at their daily peak. And as you’d probably already been able to guess, he had no problem with getting you ready for him.

He started out slow, spooning you from behind and leaving featherlight kisses down your neck, shoulder and upper arm while slowly moving his hand up your side, in under the oversized t-shirt that was originally his, and stopping right under your breast.

He takes his sweet time, his hot breath fanning across the back of your neck and his cold fingertips just barely grazing over your nipple, causing it to harden at the touch.

While he used that hand to massage your breasts, he moved the other one down to your butt, gently caressing it before pushing his hand in between your thighs.

At this point, you turn around to your other side so that the two of you come face to face, his eyes already ready to meet yours once they flicker up to his face.

His hand never leaves your body, dragging it back and forth between your breasts, your collarbones and your throat, while the other one settles between your legs, wasting no time to push inside the hem of your underwear.

His raven hair is messy from tossing and turning throughout the night and his eyes are still heavy with sleep, leaving him in his most natural and vulnerable state, that only you get the pleasure of seeing him in.

The mere sight of him is enough to make your stomach erupt with butterflies, and your breath hitches in your throat when he pushes his fingers between your folds, not expecting you to already be as wet as you are, but being pleasantly surprised.

He goes to work without a second thought, dipping into your heat to collect some lubricant and moving his fingers up along your slit, gently rubbing them over the sensitive bundle of nerves when he reaches the top.

Your breath quickens, and you lean in to meet each other in the middle, your lips pressing together in a firm and determined kiss.

You suck in another breath through your nose when one of his fingers enter you, and you’re forced to break the kiss to regain your composure, your foreheads ending up pressing together.

“Tell me what you want.” He whispers, his smooth voice groggy with the exhaustion that clearly still lingers even after a rare, whole seven hours of sleep, and it’s enough to draw a quiet, mewling whine from your lips.

“You. I want you.” You answer, bringing your hands up to cradle his jaw and pressing your lips against his once more, mumbling into the kiss. “I want you to make me yours, and I want to make you mine.”

He wasn’t big on dirty talk, but he loved hearing you express your need for him and the way those words made him feel adequate as a person, lover and husband, something that you knew he often struggled with coming to terms with by himself.

There was nothing that excited him more, both in means of emotional and sexual manners, than to know that he was succeeding in pleasing you, and hearing those words leave your lips were more than enough of a green light for him.

His hand left your heat for a moment, the other hand disappearing from underneath your shirt, only to sit himself up and reach for the hem of the lose t-shirt.

You followed his example and pushed yourself up, raising your arms and allowing him to pull the article of clothing off your body, your heart picking up speed as you watched his eyes fall onto your chest with a hungry, longing gaze.

You quickly rid yourself of your underwear and laid down flat on your back, Hotch wasting no time in placing himself on top of you, attaching his lips to yours and bringing his hand down the length of your body to return to his previous actions.

A low moan left your lips, being muffled into the kiss, as he spread your folds and pushed his finger back into your entrance, immediately followed by another.

He hooked them and slowly started moving them in and out, pressing against your g-spot and really dragging out his movements at an antagonizing slow pace, making you stressed and desperate for more.

But he only continued for a moment, cutting the torture short when he had stretched you out just enough, and everything happened in a blink of an eye after that, his hand moving down to his boxers where he released himself and wasted no time in lining himself up against your entrance, pushing inside and filling you out perfectly.

You whimpered at the feeling, your head pressing back into your pillow, your lips parting and your eyebrows creasing together with pleasure, and as his breathing quickened, he nuzzled his face into the crook between your shoulder and your neck.

“I missed you.” He whispered next to your ear after a moment of silence, like he always does, while he waits for you to adjust to his size

No matter the mood, no matter if the sex you’re having is rough, passionate, quick, slow, or a mixture of everything; no matter if you’ve spent the entire week together, right there by each other’s sides, he would always make sure you knew just how much he had missed your body when you finally found the right time after not having touched each other sensually in days, sometimes even weeks.

And this was just another thing to add to the long list of things that got you going, along with the way you could feel the violent thumping of his heart against your chest.

“Move, please.” You begged, moving your hands to the back of his head and weaving your fingers into his hair.

He didn’t need to be told twice, instantly beginning to move his hips, slowly to a start, but quickly building up a pace that left you breathless.

You raised your legs to wrap them around his waist and he brought one of his hands to your hip, singlehandedly shifting you further down on the mattress for better access, further picking up his pace as he went.

An accidental moan slipped past your lips, way too loud for both of your likings, and he hurried to place his lips back on yours in an attempt to keep you quiet.

The last thing you wanted was to wake up Jack and have to cut your activities short, but still, neither of you could help but quietly snicker against each other’s lips at the irony of two grownups having to sneak around like teenagers in their own house.

You managed to keep quiet for the rest of the time, the creaking sounds of the bed being swallowed by the rain and thunder still dominating the weather outside.

At some point, Hotch moved both his hands, one by one, to take yours, pulling your arms above your head and holding them in place at the edges of your pillow where your fingers kept clenching and unclenching around his closed fists as he continued to meet your hips with lazy but controlled thrusts, after more than enough experimenting having no problem whatsoever in hitting your special spot with every move he made.

Time passed and when you were sure you were closing in on half an hour, the end began nearing.

Your fingers and toes erupted with tingles and your chest with butterflies. Your throat grew thick and your head started spinning, your heart palpitating in your chest as the familiar knot began tying in the pit of your stomach.

Hotch recognized the signs of your climax as well as he’d recognize the signs of his own and picked up his pace, breathing heavily as he stared down at you.

You tried to close your eyes and look away, your entire face pulling into an expression of pure bliss as the pleasure overwhelmed you, but he gently turned your head back to face him, looking down at you with darkened, hooded eyes.

“Look at me.”

It was such a simple, in theory innocent combination of words, but the tone indicating a combination of a plea and an order set your entire body on fire, your heart picking up speed behind your chest and taking your breath away.

“Let me look at you.” He continued, dipping down to press his forehead against yours.

It was hard for you to keep up the unwavering eye contact that he was holding as you reached your high and toppled over the edge, especially so when he brought a hand down to add to your pleasure by rubbing the bundle of nerves that was throbbing with need and begging for release, but you managed.

Your entire body tensed up and as you repeatedly clenched and unclenched around him as you rode out your high, he reached his climax in no time, only then breaking the eye contact he had been holding up until then to bury his face in your neck to muffle his groan.

Your entire body shook with exhaustion as he mustered the last, lazy thrusts and emptied himself inside of you. You could barely keep your legs up anymore but you forced yourself to push through, keeping them locked around his waist until he stilled on top of you and only then letting them fall down to meet the cold sheets.

His arms trembled and his pants were heavy in your ear, and you softly pulled your fingers through his sweaty hair as he caught his breath, allowing him the time he needed to recollect himself while you did the same.

Soon enough, he pushed himself back up on shaking arms, leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss to which you responded by moving your hands from the back of his head to cradle his jaw.

When you came back apart, both of you closed your eyes, sleep once again catching up with you.

“I love you.” You whispered quietly, rubbing your thumbs along the line of his jaw, and he smiled, whispering out an equally as quiet, and equally as exhausted; “I love you, too.”

You exchanged one last, lingering kiss, and then he fell back to his side of the bed, where he wasted no time in pulling you into his side, the two of you falling back asleep only a minute later.

Tagged: @must-be-a-weasley-92 @zizzlekwum @cozytruecrimeaddict @lovelynervouskingdom @shadow-of-wonder @rousethemouse @thesassmisstress

(If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, send me a message, ask or leave a comment)

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut #hotch x reader #hotch #hotchner imagine #hotchner #hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader

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inscribeddiatribes · 4 years

Text

Only If For A Night

—

Summary: Steve’s decision to go back to the past has unintended consequences.

—

A/N: I decided to participate in the lucid dreams challenge by one of my favorite writers, @golden-ariess. This fic has literally taken me forever to write, but it’s finally finished!

Prompt: “Then tell me how I’m supposed to be.” I was also inspired by the lyrics from Only If for a Night by Florence + the Machine.

Time travel logistics and some endgame scenes have been changed.

Warnings: Contains Angst, Endgame spoilers, Steve Rogers centric, Slightly Yandere/Obsessive, Death.

—

It was supposed to be a simple mission. A final task to put an end to the chaos that Thanos had singlehandedly caused.

As Steve prepared to say his goodbyes, he mused on his current life. He had friends, a support system, and shockingly, he had Bucky back. Losing Bucky had affected him more than he’d care to admit. The loss of Bucky had left him reeling. It seemed like he was destined to feel miserable and all alone.

However, in the five years that he had spent without Bucky, he had found you. You muddled through life the same way he did, but you continued to live your life to the best of your ability by taking the time to find and improve yourself. In many ways he envied you, but you had been utterly alone for years before The Snap, which was a reality he didn’t have to face. He had lost Bucky, and while he may have felt alone, he never truly was.

You were unique, he fondly thought. There were probably a million words that he could use to describe you, but unique was the one that fit best.

Bucky and Sam would understand his decision, but you would be a different story.

—

After leaving Sam, Steve slowly made his way over to you. You looked at him as he came to a stop next to you.

You coolly stated, “I heard they figured out how to fix everything. I’m guessing that’s not what you’re here for though.”

His blood ran cold at the thought that you already knew what he was going to do. He opened his mouth to fumble out an explanation, but you interjected, “If you want to go… then go. I won’t stop you.”

You looked away from him and stared straight ahead. Steve could tell that you were beginning to shut him out. This wasn’t how he expected this to go. How could you shut down at a time like this? He finally had a chance to live a normal life, yet you weren’t happy for him. The words flew out before he could stop himself, “This isn’t how you’re supposed to be.”

You turned towards him and fixed him with a piercing glare, “Then tell me how I’m supposed to be.”

A wave of silence passed over you two. Steve heard you sigh. He desperately wished he knew what to say to fix this, but he was left speechless for once in his life. Steve muttered an apology and made his way back to his teammates.

—

Mission. Home. Idle Chatting. Repeat.

Steve could recite his routine like clockwork. His enjoyment of being with Peggy hadn’t been preserved over the years. His weariness of life frequently clashed with Peggy’s personality. Steve had quickly realized that her zeal and unwavering optimism exhausted him. Peggy understood war better than an average Joe, but she didn’t understand what horrors the future held. By extension, she didn’t understand him either — not anymore. It was inevitable that they wouldn’t last together.

A year. A year is how long it took for Steve to realize that he didn’t belong with Peggy. She was determined, smart, and ambitious. All traits that would please most people. However, she just wasn’t right. She just wasn’t… you. The decision to end things came easy to both of them. Peggy sent him on his way with a tight lipped smiled and a knowing glance.

—

He was back. For the first time in months, he was finally excited.

Steve quickly realized that he had no idea where everyone was. He followed the path closest to him to a road and hoped that a driver would be crazy enough to give him a ride to the Avengers building. He somehow managed to cause a traffic jam as people clambered out of their cars to stare at him in disbelief. It’d definitely be a long ride.

—

Fury sharply stared at Steve, “You’ve managed to make quite the commotion with that little stunt you pulled earlier, Rogers. You disappeared for four years, how could you expect anything less? You’re lucky that we have all the witnesses under control until we can release a new statement.”

Four years? How was that even possible? He had just been gone one year.

Bucky walked through the doorway and approached Fury. Bucky directed his eyes toward a plaque on the wall. It was… your plaque? It was enough to make Fury pause. Fury took a quick glance at Steve and proceeded to leave the room with a grimace. He immediately became suspicious. Fury would never give up an opportunity to yell at someone. Where were you?

Bucky softly sighed, “Pal, I know it’s a lot to take in. A lot of things have changed since you’ve been gone. Y/N isn’t here anymore. There was an attack and we couldn’t get to them in time, I’m so sorry. I have to join Sam on his mission soon, but SHIELD gave me an apartment I never stay at. You can stay there for as long as you want. A company car can take you there.”

Steve felt himself still. You were… dead? You didn’t deserve that. You should be here with him… no, he should have never left in the first place. You were gone. Why you? Why him? This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t. He feels his chest tightening and morbidly hopes that he’ll be the next to go.

He couldn’t bear to look at the sympathetic look on Bucky’s face. Steve takes the key from Bucky’s outstretched hand. Bucky pats him on the shoulder and Steve manages to drag himself to the car awaiting him outside.

Steve had ruined his own happiness. The thought that he had messed things up this badly was enough to want to make him start sobbing. He briefly wonders if you had been in this much pain when he left.

—

He spent his nights spent holed up in Bucky’s apartment desperate for any form of interaction. He spent his days at parks during the day in hopes that some eager fan would spot him and bombard him with even something as simple as an awkward, sweaty handshake. Yet no one ever paid him any attention after his initial reappearance. His absence in The Avengers was quite apparent. Thousands of articles about his sudden departure and Sam’s new identity had easily convinced the world that he was a sham.

Even Bucky was slowly starting to give up on him. He never explicitly said that, but his lack of calls and abundance of mission said enough. He was alone.

He wanted to see you again. You were — and still are — his only escape from his loneliness and misery. He thought about you on that consequential day when he had decided to leave. The sunshine baring down on the both of you contrasted the mood of the whole affair. He wished he would have stopped to consider how you truly felt about him leaving. How your coldness towards him was only a coping method. He wished he could go back and scream at himself to stay.

Closing his eyes again, he cleared those thoughts away and willed himself to fall asleep. Dreams were his refuge. He was able to create happy memories of you that he never got to experience with you in real life. Vacations, garden tours, café dates. He did anything and everything with you. You and the whole world were at his fingertips in his dreams. You were his, only if for a night.

—

Bathroom. Eat. Dream. Repeat. Another routine that he could recite like clockwork, only he couldn’t leave this time.

Days passed by. Then weeks. Then months. Everything started blurring together. There was no point in trying to remember them. No one had any need for him anymore. He was no longer Captain America, that role was taken.

He realized he couldn’t be upset, he was the one that had caused this. It still stung to know that everyone had moved on and most importantly, that you were gone.

There was nothing he could now. It was too late. He had lost Peggy. He had lost his friends. Now, he had lost you too. No amount of dreaming would bring you back. He was alone again. He would always be alone — a man out of time.

—

Lyrics:

“And I heard your voice as clear as day. And you told me I should concentrate. It was all so strange and so surreal. That a ghost should be so practical. Only if for a night.”

I don’t own these characters, songs, or lyrics, nor did I create any of them. This work is strictly for fair use/ entertainment purposes. No money has been received from this work.

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hinac0lada · 4 years

Text

debunked

RISS’ NOTE: a small drabble for my grande king<3 happy bday bubu i’m so proud of u and i lob u mwa

ALEX’S NOTE: the flavor of this drabble is, chef’s kiss 3000x

CHARACTER PAIRING: oikawa tooru/f!reader

WC: 2.1k

WARNING/s: nsfw/smut, pegging, some dirty talk, femdom, mommy kink (tooru n reader are aged up)

as always, nsfw will be under the cut!

your sex life with oikawa was beyond one of equipose. you meet each other's needs and desires, aftercare is always the best, and all was roses and peonies. but sometimes, people like to be nosy and assume things about your sex life, putting unnecessary expectations on the two of you. it was all fun and games and you'd usually brush it off, but there was just this one assumption that irked you the most.

‘you think (name) could ever dom oikawa?’

‘with her looks? no way. a total sub.’

who were they to assume your sense of dominance just based on your looks? you weren’t exactly insecure, but for some reason, the comment disturbed you in ways you would’ve never imagined. it ignited this burning passion, this desire to prove them wrong. to debunk all those theories - that were undoubtedly wrong.

and so this leads to the both of you to start this conversation that is taking place in your shared bedroom.

“soo, pegging right?” oikawa cups a hand on his chin as his expression turns into one of contemplating his decision.

“can’t say i’ve tried it before.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you stare him down. “you don’t have to do it if you aren’t ready, babe.” he scoffs at this, jutting out his bottom lip as his face scrunches up in protest.

“i’ve been ready, baby-”

“but are you sure?” you cut him off with a concerned yet somewhat shy look, tone full of wary. he chuckles at this, any sign of teasing gone as he takes your hands to cradle them close to his chest.

“there’s no one else i’d trust with this more than you, love.” a faint blush blooms from the soft gesture, still maintaining eye contact with the brunette. you give a small smile, pleased with his answer.

“i’m glad. there’s no turning back after this, okay?” he gives a firm nod at this, beaming. “mhm! i’ll get my turn after right?”

you pull away, standing up as you reply with a giggle. “of course, tooru. as many rounds as you like.” he silently cheers at this, stripping off his shirt and shorts as he sends you a bashful look.

“mind you, i haven’t really done this before so… be gentle, baby?” you stripped along with him, dropping the articles of clothing on the floor. “no promises babe, but i’ll try,” you cast a small wink with a cheeky grin.

“what should our code be?”

“our safe word could be emerald?” he suggests, now free of his clothes as he kicked them away with his feet. you nod and made your way to the cabinet where the stuff you needed was stored in. “emerald it is.”

you rummage around the cabinet to look for the strap, smiling lightly to yourself. “i won’t lie, i’m kinda nervous,” he hums at this, dipping by your shared bed as he patiently waits for you to retrieve the godly piece of silicone about to be placed right up his ass. if you enjoy it, who was he to complain?

“you and me both, love. but do let me prep up - do we have any lube around?”

“i think we do! try checking the bedside table,” you looked over your shoulder, eyes leading to the said furniture before turning back to search for the device. he wordlessly turns his gaze over to the mentioned furniture, hands trailing over the drawer and pulling it, noticing the required item they needed for preparation. he takes it out, pleased that there was still a generous amount inside the container. “i got it.”

“nice, well.. i found it,” you stood up, turning to face the male, teasingly displaying the main star of tonight's show. “isn't it a beauty?” he turns his gaze towards the plastic dildo, giving it a once over with a small snicker. his dick was still bigger after all.

“how cute.” he comments. you roll your eyes, letting out a small giggle as you walked over to where he was situated, giving a gentle kiss on his forehead. “your dick is still bigger, yes. don’t let it get to your head.”

“it should be basic knowledge,” oikawa leans in to snag a kiss from your lips before handing the bottle of lube over to you. “prep me up, baby.”

“alright, tiger,” you opened up the bottle full of lubricant, coating a generous amount on your fingers before sitting down in front of him, pulling him closer. “tell me when it hurts baby, i don't want to hurt you okay?”

he gives a nod, leaning in to kiss her cheek as he shuffles even closer. “mhm, i will. emerald, okay?” he asks again for reassurance.

“emerald,” and with that, you slowly insert a single digit inside his tight hole, peppering kisses along his neck; occasionally sucking on certain spots. he lets a small grunt escape his lips, the unfamiliar but somewhat pleasurable feeling of fingers moving around his butthole was foreign but he takes it nonetheless. pleasured sighs fanned over your head as he let you mark his neck.

“do you feel good, baby?” you mutter in between kisses, leaving love bites on his neck, butterfly kisses tracing his jawline. you took pleasure in hearing the sighs of your beloved, enough to spur you on even more as you felt the slight throb of your core in between your legs.

“y-yes, love-” he grunts, feeling your long, nimble fingers stretch his puckered hole in order to prepare him for what was to come. “more, baby. i want more,”

“hmm? i didn't quite hear you baby,” you purred in his ear, a smirk gracing your facial features. it was kinda like payback at this point, recalling the times oikawa would edge you until you’re in tears.

“you have to earn it first,” you added on, slowing the pace of your fingers to a more painstakingly slow one much to your delight. he whines lightly, hands dipping down to rake his fingernails on the side of your thighs, rubbing his growing erection against your knee.

“please,” he swallows, feeling himself loosen up. “f-fuck me, mommy. please, i want you to fuck me-” he gasps at the slow thrusts of your fingers, feeling himself shiver at the feeling.

“good boy, you're doing great darling,” you placed a kiss on his lips, free hand making its way to his pulsing cock, slowly rubbing the head in the process. you gradually quickened the pace of your fingers.

“how do you want me to fuck you tonight baby?”

“fuck me with- with your strap-” he stutters out, feeling his cock twitch against your hand, groaning out praise and pleas as he shuddered in your hold. you couldn't help but chuckle at the state he was in, seeing as he's enjoying himself. you insert another finger inside his tight walls, pace quickening as you multitasked with fingering his hole and giving him a hand job. “loose enough yet, tooru?”

he shivers once more, a flushed expression adorning his pale skin. “y-yeah, i think i'm ready now..”

“alrighty!” you exclaimed, a little too excited - the giddiness that you felt was overwhelming as you knelt on your knees, adjusting the little device that you were wearing.

“get on your knees and let me see that cute little ass,” you snicker, patting his rear as he got on all fours. he gave you a look as turned around, getting on the position you requested of him. he turns his head to the side, admiring your profile from his doggy style pose he was under.

you position yourself in front of his hole, [e.c] irises meeting with his own, the glint in your eyes telling stories of excitement. “you ready for me, baby?” he grunts in affirmation, bracing himself. “yes,”

“yes what?” you smack his ass lightly, hard enough to hurt but not enough to leave a mark. he yelps at this, the slightly pleasurable burn tingling his pale asscheeks.

“y-yes, mommy,” and without hesitation, you slowly let the silicone dildo enter his tight butthole, watching the piece of silicone disappear inside him with amusement. “does it hurt, baby? feel alright?” his grip on the bed sheets tighten, figure shaking a bit at the sudden invasion in his ass.

“a-a little... just take it slow-” he groaned out, eyes fluttering open.

“i promise babe, just tell me when to move okay?” you lean in to smother the nape of his neck with kisses, caressing his sides to soothe him down. he lets himself have a moment, trying to adjust before he lets out a shaky sigh.

“you can try moving, love. please, make me feel good.”

“your wish is my command, my pretty boy,” you started thrusting in a slow but steady pace, resuming back to gently bite the nape of his neck to where his sweet spot is. he throws his head back, shuddering at the way your teeth bit down on his neck, knowing exactly where to mark him. “fuck! ahh- more, mommy, more,”

“more, you say?” you pulled out and violently slammed it in again, hoping you didn't hurt him by accident. “shit! fuck yes-” he pants, hole tightening around the strap as his ass slammed against your naked hips.

“how bad do you want it, baby?” you whisper by his ear, before pulling out and thrusting in again, actions getting repetitive.

“i want it.. so bad-! ram i-it into me, mommy-!”he gasps, ragged breaths leaving his lips as he whines from the pressure building up. you grab onto his hips to control the pace, continuously ramming into his ass, pressing his head down onto the soft mattress. “who makes you feel good like this, baby?” he moans out loud, lewd pleas and erotica echoing left and right as he drowns himself in the pleasure.

“fuckfuck, you mommy! m-mommy's fucking me so fucking good!”

you quicken the pace at an inhumane speed, the sounds of praises and moans that echoed in the room filled you with excitement, ignoring the tingles on your thighs. “oh yeah? do i fuck you so good to the point you're losing your mind right now?” you emphasize this with a harsh slap on his ass, the impact receiving an immediate reaction from his drunken yelp.

“y-yes, mommy!” he wheezes, feeling his cock twitch from how hard he was of how downright hot the situation was - fucking him like a bitch in heat. “shitshitshit, i-i can't-!” you pull him up using his hair, tugging him close to you, bodies exchanging heat as the room got even more humid. “can't what baby? can't handle this fucking dick inside your ass?” you pant, keeping your pace steady but fast as you bite down on his shoulder.

oikawa arches his back against your breasts, shivering from the heat radiating from their bodies from their aggressive rut. “m-mommy, please- let me cum! i'll be your good boy, i s-swear!” pathetic whines and pleas escaped his lips as his tongue lolled out from his mouth, legs quivering underneath.

“mm, let me think about it, baby,” hearing his whines sent shivers down your spine - one violent thrust after the other, disregarding the weariness you were starting to feel. your only goal was to make him feel good. his cries only grew louder, the pleasurable burn in his butthole catching up to him as he reached down to rub his hard-on, desperate to get off.

“let me help you with that,” you chuckle at his desperation, grabbing his stiff cock to help him reach his climax whilst in the process of catching up to your pace from before. the stimulation from both his cock and asshole was too much, having yet another moan escape from his bruised lips. “fuck, i'm cumming mommy! c-cumming~!”

“come on baby, cum for mommy,” you pant, sighs escaping your lips before picking up the already fastened and secure pace - ignoring the ache you felt in your legs as you wanted him to reach the climax he’s begged for so nicely. he lets out a few more grunts and moans escape his lips, shaky breaths growing louder as he finally reaches his high, dick spurting out ribbons of cum all over your hands as it dripped to the bed sheets.

after thrusting a few more times, you stopped with a shaky sigh, bringing up the hand previously jacking him off to your mouth to lick up his cum, humming in satisfaction. “you taste so good, my good boy,”

he shivers, panting as he drops down to the bed, spent from being pegged. “th-thank you, mommy,” you remove the dirty strap, stretching a bit to ease the friction from your stiff joints, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead before getting up to clean the hot mess.

“you did great, my love. i'll run you a bath, okay?” he hums in approval, moving to sit up from the bed. he felt sticky and dirty after all. “alrighty~”

after a few minutes of prepping a hot bath for your lover, you came back from the bathroom and kissed his once bruised lips. “thank you for this, tooru. i love you.”

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fandomsonrequests · 4 years

Text

welcome back

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: park seonghwa

reader: fem!

warnings: smut, some swearing, protected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT KIDS), 18+

a/n: ahhhhhh im sorry this took so long ;^; school is making me lose time to write. i also apologize in advance- i suck at writing smut :’))

requested by @im-broliet

“Welcome ba-”

Your greeting was cut off as soon as Seonghwa throws himself into your arms. You’re caught off guard by his action and stumble a little but manage to regain your balance soon after. A chuckle falls from your lips and you pull away to cup at his cheek, thumb brushing his plush skin, taking the time to appreciate the presence of your boyfriend who has been away for two whole weeks.

Seonghwa leaned in to kiss you, his actions were gentle and full of love. You couldn’t help but smile into it, wrapping both arms around his shoulders. He leans his forehead against yours when he pulls away, a soft smile in his face.

“I missed you,” He whispers against your lips.

“I missed you too,” You reply. “Did you get enough rest before coming here?” “I did.” He answers you while you untangle yourself from your boyfriend and lead him over to your couch.

You pat the space on your surprisingly soft couch while you head into the kitchen to grab him a glass of water. He leans back into the couch while you two make idle chatter about what had happened. It was mostly you prompting him to share his experiences in the country he was last in.

Despite being the eldest in the group, Seonghwa seemed to display some sort of childishness in him. In this case, it was with the animated sparkle and passion in his eyes as he recounted his experiences. He talked about the culture he shared with the fans, the small variety show ATEEZ had there, and the different kinds of interviews they went through.

“You guys were pretty busy huh?” You muse as you lean against the couch, legs thrown over Seonghwa’s lap.

His long fingers trailed up and down your thigh, leaving a tingly, ticklish sort of feeling behind. “We were and it was admittedly kind of exhausting. But I’m feeling better now that you’re here.”

“You sap,” You tell him as you shift forward to kiss him again.

He pulls you onto his lap as your lips danced with his. It didn’t take too long for things to get heated, especially with the way his hands desperately grabbed onto you like you’d disappear at any moment. You let out a small yelp against his skin when he squeezed your bum, making a ferocious red color bloom across your cheeks.

“You’re so cute, bunny~” He teases you when he notices your blush and you lightly slap him across the chest.

“Stop teasing me..” You whine and a low chuckle rumbles from his chest.

Luckily he spares you mercy and decides to just get on with it. His strong arms wrap around your thighs and he stands, lifting you into his arms while he walks to your room. While he shuffles through the hallway of your home, you shower him with kisses, lips traveling down to his jaw. He falters for a moment and groans out in pleasure when he feels you nip and suck at the sensitive area near his ear.

He managed to reach your room and laid you onto the bed. You barely have time to settle yourself on the plush mattress when he’s on top of you. His hands make work of pulling down your shorts while he lavishes your neck and collarbones with sharp kisses. You crane your neck to the side as you allowed him to mark your skin, his teeth nipping here and there while his mouth sucked dark purple marks into them.

You could feel yourself grow wet with each passing second, a whimper escaping you whenever his deft fingers tease your clothed cunt, brushing against your clit with the slightest pressure only to pull away.

Your hand shot out and gripped his wrist when he pressed against you again, hips involuntarily bucking up into his hand. “Hwa..~” You whine again, wanting nothing more than to have him fuck you already.

Seonghwa feigns confusion but you could see through his warm, lust blown eyes the true intent of his actions. What a fucking tease...

“What is it, bunny?” He asks you curiously before moving his knee between your thighs and towards your crotch. Your breath hitches at the action. He could feel the warmth of your slick stain through his jeans but he didn’t give a damn. “What does my baby bunny want?”

“Please stop teasing me,” You whimper up at him, emphasizing your point by grinding your hips up into his knee.

He could feel his cock strain against his jeans at the sight of you looking so helpless and under his mercy, lips kiss swollen and eyes glazed over from the lust that consumes you. He realizes that despite the tough, taunting demeanor he put up- he’s just as impatient as you.

He couldn’t wait to ravish you.

Seonghwa decided to indulge you, throwing off his shirt and shucking off your underwear. He kissed down your stomach and towards your thighs, nipping at the skin there before reaching your dripping cunt. The way his warm breath fans over you as his tongue licks up to your clit sends shivers down your spine.

Without any more warning, he suckles on the bundle of nerves, making your toes clench and your back arch of the bed. “F-fuck,” you exclaim.

His hand splays over your stomach to keep your hips from bucking up as he growls into your pussy. He eats you out like a starved man, your grip in his hair fueling him even more. Usually, he’d punish you for this sort of impatience but he was away from you too long- he could let this pass.

Seonghwa reached up to rub his fingers against your labia, spreading your juices along your inner thighs. When you inch your hips towards him, he takes it as a signal to bury his index and middle finger up to the second knuckle into you, making quick work of massaging and curling against your walls.

“Hngg, Hwa please,” You beg him, releasing a rather loud moan when he gives a harsh suck. “P-please just fuck me already.”

“What was that bunny?” He pants against you, a devious but subtle smirk on his lips smothered in your wetness. “I couldn’t quite catch that.”

“Seonghwa please, baby, I fucking need you,” You cry out. “Please please please- I just need your so bad you’ve been g-gone too long,”

The way you lean up and look down at him with the helplessness in his eyes finally spurred him to give in to both your desires. “Since you asked so nicely..”

Soon, whatever article of clothing that blocked the both of you were thrown away to the side hastily. You reached into the drawer beside your bed and pulled out a condom, helping Seonghwa roll it onto his length. You drank in his moans when your hand wrapped around his cock and gave him a couple of pumps before his impatience got the better of him and pushed you onto your back, laying multitudes of kisses down your neck.

Your legs wrap around his waist as he lines himself up with your entrance. You both let out moans of relief as he slowly bottomed out within you. You both stayed like that for a moment, allowing yourselves to adjust to each other.

Despite the somewhat primal air around you two, there was a sense of tenderness between you. Seonghwa couldn’t help but lay a passionate kiss to your lips, whispering on how beautiful you were against them.

“I love you, ____.” He tells you, groaning at the way your warm walls clenched around him.

He finally starts to move his hips against you. It started out with slow but deep thrusts, your feet interlocking around his waist to pull him closer to you. His arms wrap around your waist while yours go around his shoulders.

His face buried into the junction between your neck and shoulder, inhaling your scent as it lingered with his. Soon, his pace starts to pick up, the steady rhythm of skin against skin resounding through the room.

Your back arches when he ground his hips down into you, hitting your spot perfectly. “Th-there,” You tell him, whining when he angled his hips to continue thrusting into that spot.

Eventually his hands started to roam, caressing your hips and coming up to rub against your clit, making you squeal from the pleasure. After being away from each other so long, his touch brushing against you just set fire to your skin, amplifying the pleasure you felt.

The same could be said in Seonghwa’s case. It felt like he was losing himself in you whenever you rolled your hips against him, your warm velvety walls tightening around his length. But your hands clutching onto him for dear life grounded him back to reality.

He could sense how you were close by the way your stomach tensed, lip caught between your teeth to keep yourself from cumming. He let up from circling his thumb on your clit, leaning over you as he pounded into you harder. “Does my baby want to cum?” He pants, giving a particularly hard thrust against you.

You could only nod your head in response from the overwhelming pleasure you felt. A couple of more thrusts from him sends you over the edge. You throw your head back as you cum, letting out a drawn out moan. Flashes of white floods your sight as you ride out your high. Only when you came down from it did you realize that Seonghwa had cum too and was now supporting himself over you with shaky arms.

You lightly grind your hips up onto his to milk his orgasm, eliciting a small whine from him. He collapses on top of you when he couldn’t hold up any longer. The sounds of sheets rustling along with both your panting filled the room.

It takes a while to recuperate and clean yourselves up. Once the sheets were removed, the condom tied up and properly disposed, Seonghwa heads to the bathroom while you flop back onto the bed. You could hear water running from the tub while a soft but fragrant scent wafts into the room.

“Are you running a bath, Hwa?” You call out, voice raspy from earlier.

“Actually bunny, I’m doing the laundry.” Seonghwa replies as he moves to lay down next to you while waiting for the bath. He could only chuckle as you shoot him a tired glare, prompting him to kiss your forehead.

Eventually the bath was ready and you two settled in. The warm water helped relax your muscles- especially with your boyfriend’s. You settle against his chest and his arms wrap around you, gently washing you off with soft loofah that hung by your tub.

“I saw a few clips of your concert,” You tell him and he hums, telling you to continue. “People can’t get over the Baby Shark dance huh?”

Soenghwa flushed in embarrassment at the mention of that and he stumbled over his words when he replied to you. Thank God your back was against him or else he’d never get to live down this moment. “Let’s make it a rule to never speak of this again.”

You laugh quietly at this and turn your head to look up at him. “You’re so cute, baby.” You tell him, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw.

You two continue to bathe, catching up. He laughs when you tell him how you almost beat your friend’s high score in a video game, you listen intently when he re-enacts an awkward interview moment, and much much more. Sometimes you wished he didn’t have to be so busy all the time but you’d take what you can get.

Seonghwa peers down at you when he sees your head loll to the side, your eyes heavy with sleep. “______,” He Shakes you awake gently. “Come on, I think it’s time we head out.”

You could only nod sleepily. He helps you out of the tub and wraps one of your fluffiest towels around you, chuckling softly at the sight of you. “Whaaat?” You laugh drowsily and dawdle out the room.

“You’re so cute, bunny.” He replies as he dried himself off and followed you into the room.

You managed to pull out some of the clothes he had left behind while you dressed into some shorts and one of his comfortable shirts. You sprawled out against the bed and beckoned him towards you once he threw on his clothes. You giggle at the noise she lets out when you pull him into bed with you.

A soft silence fills the air as you two settle under the covers. Seonghwa’s arms wrap tightly around your waist and pull you snug against him. You rest your head into the crook of his neck, allowing the beat of his heart and warmth lull you to sleep.

“...I love you, Seonghwa..” You tell him, part of your consciousness drifting into sleep.

“I love you more, _____.” He says and kisses your forehead.

You snort at that and look up at him, just about ready to pass out. “No way, I love you more.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Just,” You yawn and let your eyelids droop. “Just watch..”

Seonghwa could only hum in response, deciding to go along with your sleep-induced musings. He moved one of his hands from your back to your hair, brushing his fingers through your locks to help you sleep.

“Sleep well, _____.” He whispers, heart full of love as you drift off in his arms.

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop smut

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